Glass Plates from Across the Ocean: The Private Photographic Legacy of Hussar Colonel László Isépy
26 • 05 • 10Gáspár Kéri
It is a rare moment when family heritage and scientific research meet by pure chance. László Isépy, a former military officer of the Austro-Hungarian Monarchy and a teacher at the Ludovika Academy, certainly never suspected that his glass negatives would one day find a safe home in Australia. Ultimately, it was from there that a Hungarian museologist discovered them, and through her, they were revealed to the domestic public. Through a chance encounter between the Australian Past on Glass project and a staff member of the Hungarian Theatre Museum and Institute (OSZMI), pieces of an extraordinary private photographic oeuvre emerged from the fog of oblivion a few years ago.
The storms of Central European history often sweep away irreplaceable values, yet the fate of László Isépy's estate unfolded in an unconventional manner. The descendants of the former hussar colonel emigrated to Australia after the Second World War, taking Isépy’s glass negatives—mostly captured in the 1910s—with them to the distant continent. The Past on Glass project, managed in Australia, is actually built specifically around this unique family archive. The creators of the website recognized that the moments captured on these fragile glass negatives extend far beyond a family’s personal memory; they are unique snapshots of an entire era.
The Fortepan community photo archive, which is extremely popular in Hungary, is based on a similar principle, although it is known to draw from a much broader selection. While Fortepan collects visual fragments of the past by relying on the power of collective memory, Past on Glass typically presents the world of László Isépy’s family and social circles. However, the common denominator of both projects is the realization that private photography sometimes tells a more authentic story of the past than the official documentation of the time.
The person behind the images, as well as the precise history of certain photographs, was unraveled by Mariann Sipőcz, a staff member of the Hungarian Theatre Museum and Institute (currently the Head of Special Collections at the National Film Institute – Film Archive). In her study titled The Mystery of the Photographer—which appeared years ago in the OSZMI's "Artifact of the Month" series—the researcher identified Isépy, who had previously been treated as an unknown amateur, through brilliant investigative work. The meticulous examination of military rank, family connections, and the locations appearing in the images allowed the glass negatives—some of which were taken with a stereo camera—to finally begin regaining their original context.
László Isépy’s subject matter was simultaneously influenced by his military profession and the bohemian spirit and openness to the arts that characterized his private life and social network. Although a disciplined sense of composition and the conscious placement of space and figures occasionally appear in the shots, his images are much more deeply permeated by a profound humanity and a love of life, as well as the power of spontaneous and unstudied moments. Meanwhile, through the photographs, we gain insight into various events of contemporary social life; we can stumble upon decently erotic female nudes, but famous actors of the era also appear—including Sári Fedák, Irén Varsányi, or Gyula Hegedűs, typically members of the Comedy Theatre (Vígszínház) company—while family gatherings and European travels further enrich the collection. The photographs clearly reveal that for this self-taught photographer with an intuitive eye, photography surely represented a dedicated intellectual recreation and, above all, a form of entertainment.
In this case, the process of digital preservation is a fateful return. Within the framework of the Past on Glass project, the descendants in Australia take care of the preservation of the physical media, while the digitized versions—even if only in virtual form—return to their place of origin in Hungary. At the same time, the technical characteristics of the glass negatives, their extraordinary resolution, and delicate tonal richness provide a captivating experience for today's viewer. We can observe details in the recordings that the creator himself might not have considered important at the time: a household object tucked away in the background, the fine weave of the clothing, or the unstudied naturalness of those in the photos bring the "peace-time" world, which finally sank in the cataclysm of the First World War, even closer. The past, once rescued to Australia, now takes its rightful place in the Hungarian collective memory in digital form, while the site's administrators encourage everyone to join in deciphering the names of locations still shrouded in mystery and the identities of anonymous individuals.