The “Disappearing” of Croatian Art in Hungarian Art Exhibitions at the Turn of the 20th Century

Abstract

This article examines the place of Croatian art within Hungarian art exhibitions around the turn of the century. Over close to a decade, from the 1896 Millennial Exhibition until the 1904 St. Louis World’s Fair, the way Croatian art was displayed within Hungarian exhibitions had changed. While it might seem that the ultimate absence of Croatian art in later Hungarian displays is an example of Hungarian chauvinism, the opposite is the case: Croatian art still continued to be displayed, but not as a subsidiary of Hungarian art.

1. Introduction

From 1896 until the outbreak of the First World War, Hungary, like most other European countries, participated in the period’s innumerable world’s fairs and international expositions. And, like most other European countries, it was with ever-decreasing enthusiasm. The rapid pace and ever-growing number of exhibitions led to what the Germans termed Ausstellungsmüdigkeit/Exhibition Exhaustion. This article will focus primarily on three art exhibitions at some of those many fairs: Budapest’s 1896 Millennial Exhibition, which celebrated one thousand years of Magyar presence in the Carpathian Basin; the 1900 Paris World’s Fair, which celebrated the start of the new century; and the 1904 St. Louis World’s Fair, which commemorated the centennial of the Louisiana Purchase. At each of these events, Hungary and “Hungarian” art were represented. This article will explore particularly how within the span of these three exhibitions, 1896–1904, Croatian art disappeared from Hungarian art history at these fairs.

2. Literature Survey

There is extensive and ever-increasing literature on fairs and exhibitions, major and minor, great and small, international and national. For a general overview, Robert Rydell’s influential and ground-breaking work as well as more recent works by Leerssen and Storm, as well as Geppert, are fundamental (Rydell 1984; Geppert 2010; Leerssen and Storm 2022). Geppert and others were also responsible for the comprehensive bibliography of fairs based on the California State University at Fresno’s Donald G. Larson collection of fair memorabilia (Geppert et al. 2001). The reconsideration of smaller fairs has its champion in Marta Filipová, whose Cultures of International Exhibitions, 1840–1940: Great Exhibitions in the Margins was path-breaking (Filipová 2015).

Given the great national significance of the 1896-os millenniumi ünnepségek/1896 Millennial Celebrations, voluminous literature commemorating the occasion and documenting the exhibition exists. For the historical exhibition portion of the fair, there is a multi-volume catalog broken down by period: early occupations, the Romanesque, the Renaissance, and the Baroque (Nagy 1896). In addition, there is a general history of the exhibition documenting the cultural and economic state of Hungary at the time (Matlekovics 1897). Many individual exhibits within larger exhibitions, such as the Croatian-Slavonian Art Exhibit, produced specialized catalogs focusing solely on their own displays (Kroatien und Slavonien auf der Millenniums-Landesausstellung 1896).

The 1900 Paris Fair has the most extensive literature of the three fairs being considered. It is almost too voluminous to document. From an overall history and general catalog to the catalogs of individual exhibitors, to every participating country, publications were produced.1

The 1904 St. Louis Fair is the least explored of the three fairs, though not because of a lack of documentation. Again, histories of the fair were produced by the fair itself and by the Senate Committee on Industrial Exhibitions.2 Additionally, almost every exhibitor produced a catalog. As interest has grown in the “lesser” fairs, such as St. Louis, more work has been conducted exploring the fair, its exhibits, and its greater meaning (Knott 2006; McClain 2015; Lützeler and Students 2005; Albert 2023).

While the history and activity of fairs is a significant part of this paper, Croatian art, especially at the turn of the century, plays an important role. The significance of Croatian art within the Austro-Hungarian Empire has long been recognized, but little English language scholarship exists; already in the late 1990s, Steven Mansbach looked at Croatian paintings, and more recently, Elizabeth Clegg, and especially Rachel Rossner, have brought the works of Croatian artists to a larger, English-language-speaking audience (Mansbach 1999; Clegg 2006; Rossner 2007; Alujević and Vugrinec 2020). Recent years have seen a spate of books focusing on Croatian art at the turn of the century, especially on its relationship with Vienna (Alujević et al. 2017; Krasznai 2024). The nation-forming aspect of the art exhibition was explored in a recent show at the Split Museum (Majstorović et al. 2011). Despite the great cultural significance of the fair, little seems to have been written on the Croatian exhibition itself; one notable exception is Borbála Gulyás’ brief article from 2011 (Gulyás 2011).

Budapest 1896

The 1896 Millennial Exhibition, though celebrating an event of only national importance, was designed and intended to draw an international audience. As part of the demonstration of Hungarian cultural and political growth, the Millennial Exhibition showcased Budapest, a city, which in the previous three decades had grown from a small village into a European-scale imperial capital. As part of the nationalism of the celebration, while the exhibition itself was located in Budapest, throughout the Lands of the Crown of St. Stephen,3 which at that time included parts of Burgenland, all of Slovakia, portions of Ukraine, Transylvania, and the Kingdom of Croatia and Slavonia, celebrations, great and small, marked the millennial year. Speeches and parades were held; buildings and commemorative monuments were erected. These events served a two-fold purpose; while ostensibly celebrating the arrival of the Magyars, they also clearly asserted the significance and, perhaps even more importantly, the control Magyar-dominated Budapest had over all the residents of trans-leithania, whether ethnically Magyar or not.4

It was in the imperial capital, Budapest, that the most significant and ostentatious commemorative event took place. In Budapest’s Városliget/City Park—located at the end of the Andrassy Boulevard—numerous temporary buildings and a few permanent ones were constructed to house an exhibition celebrating Hungarian culture. To facilitate travel from the city center, the avenue was equipped with the first underground subway on the European continent.5

The exhibition was divided into two parts: the historical exhibition, celebrating the history of Hungary until Franz Joseph I’s ascension to the throne in 1848, and the modern exhibition, displaying the cultural and commercial achievements of Hungary since that ascension, though notably, recent history was not presented. The historical exhibit, clustered around the park’s lake, consisted of four structures, each dedicated to a distinct period of Hungarian history and each housing artifacts from that period.6 The historicity of the display was incorporated into the structures themselves. Designed by Ignác Alpár, each structure featured architectural details from diverse buildings contemporary to the period displayed within. Thus, the structures both housed historical exhibitions and were themselves, at the same time, documentary examples of Hungarian cultural and architectural history.7

The modern section, a significantly larger portion of the Millennial Exhibition, was distributed over the remaining area of the park. Though primarily consisting of temporary structures, it incorporated the several permanent buildings already there, remnants of the 1885 National General Exhibition. Among the exhibitors were government ministries and official enterprises, such the Ministry of Agriculture, the Hungarian State Railway, the armed forces, and the City of Budapest. Almost every major Hungarian industry was represented, ofttimes with both a larger pavilion sponsored by the industry itself and smaller, private pavilions constructed by individual entrepreneurs. Representatives of breweries and distilleries not only displayed the modern processes behind their wares but sold (and sometimes gave away) samples as well. Adjacent to the grounds of the exhibition, but separately owned and operated, was an amusement area Ős-Budavára/Buda under the Turks, a recreation of the City of Buda under the Turks, which featured the recreation of a mosque from Sarajevo as well as other buildings.8

Among the temporary structures of the contemporary exhibition were four pavilions constructed by the recently reconstituted Kingdom of Croatia and Slavonia. Following the Austro-Hungarian Compromise of 1867, which had elevated Hungary to equal partners with Austria and created the Austro-Hungarian Empire out of the Austrian Empire, Hungary negotiated the Compromise of 1868 by which Slavonia and the Kingdom of Croatia, both long a part of the Kingdom of Greater Hungary, were politically conjoined and subsequently granted nominal independence while still remaining under Hungarian control. The King of Hungary was, at the same time, the King of Croatia and Slavonia and was represented in government by the Ban/Governor appointed by the Hungarian King. Croatia (which I will use as a shorthand for the Kingdom of Croatia and Slavonia) achieved some measure of independence, though ultimate power remained vested in Budapest. Local, Zagreb-based ministries controlled Justice, Internal Affairs, and Religion and Public Education. As in Hungary proper, the Ministry of Religion and Public Education would control schooling, including professional schools. Economically, the new kingdom remained enthralled to Hungary. Croatian-produced goods had to physically pass through Budapest before they could be exported from the corpus separatum port of Fiume on the Croatian coast, which was the commercial port of the Hungarian portion of the Empire9. Thus, goods had to be superfluously transported to and from Budapest before export, raising their price to economic unfeasibility and crushing any possibility of meaningful Croatian industrial growth.

The four Croatian structures constructed at the 1896 fair were the Forestry Pavilion, the Manufacturing and Industrial Arts Pavilion, a Refreshments Pavilion, and the Art Pavilion. All four Croatian buildings were located immediately adjacent to the historical exhibition (Figure 1). And just as the buildings of the historical exhibition themselves were as equally artifacts as the objects they housed, so too were the Croatian structures themselves as significant as their contents. The political and construction histories of these pavilions, as well as those from previous exhibitions, have been documented and explored by Dragan Damjanović (Damjanović 2015; Damjanović 2010). Of the four pavilions constructed in Budapest, only the Art Pavilion survives, though in a very different location and in a slightly different form.

In addition to the fine arts exhibition, the Art Pavilion was to house delicate, fragile, and invaluable historical artifacts; therefore, a fireproof, cast-iron structure was called for. As Damjanović recounts (Damjanović 2015), no suitably qualified Croatian foundry for such work could be found. A structure had been proposed by Hermann Bollé, who had previously designed the Croatian pavilions at the 1882 Trieste and 1885 Budapest exhibitions (Damjanović 2010). His proposed initial design for the 1896 pavilion was modified by the new architects, the Hungarian firm of Korb & Giergl.10 They kept Bollé’s internal disposition while altering the exterior style to be more in line with the Hungarian architectural taste and style of the day. The building’s frame was cast by Ödön Neuschlosz and Sons, a Budapest firm, which ultimately also lowered production costs. After the fair, the pavilion was dismantled and re-erected in Zagreb in a slightly different form under the supervision of the Zagreb-based architectural firm of Hönigsberg and Deutsch, while the interior was redone by the renowned Viennese firm of Fellner and Helmer. Best known for the many theater designs, their theatricality was fully deployed during the reconstruction.11 Following damage from the 2020 earthquake, it is currently being repaired and refurbished.

3. Croatian Exhibition: Description

The Croatian Art Pavilion was the only separate art exhibition at the fair. All other fine art was displayed in the Műcsarnok, the nearby purpose-built pavilion designed by Albert Schickedanz.12 Despite its rather specific name, the Croatian Art Pavilion housed two distinct and separate—but related—sections: a historic exhibition and a contemporary exhibition. The organization of the pavilion paralleled that of the exhibition as a whole, though within the confines of a single building instead of being dispersed over the entire park. The historical section, located on one side of the building, housed about 750 artifacts and documents from Croatian history; the other side, the contemporary exhibit, consisted of 130 objects, two-thirds of which were paintings or graphic works and one-third of which was sculpture.

The Croatian art display was organized by the Dalmatian/Croatian artist Vlaho Bukovac (1855–1922)13. Bukovac is a critical figure in the history and development of Croatian painting, both in his studio and organizational work.14 He was appointed by the Croatian Ministry of Religion and Public Education to curate the exhibition; he chose the objects and supervised their installation. Of the 115 paintings or graphic works displayed, the largest single contribution, 27 works, was his. The other artists in the exhibition were Artur Oskar Aleksander; Antal (Toni) Áron; Menci Clement Crnčić; Bela Csikos-Sessia; Konrád Filip; Italo Hochetlinger; Hugo Conrad von Hötzendorf; Oton Iveković; Sigmund Landsinger; Baroness Anna Löwenthal; Nikola Mašić; Celestin Mato Medović; Albert Mosé; Franjo Pavačić; Hermina Schmigoz; Ferdinand (Ferdo) von Quiquerez; N. Kaltenecker; Milan Sunko; Ivan Tišov; Róbert Frangeš; Ivan Rendić; Simeon Roksandić; Rudolf Valdec.15

In addition to his works being included in the general display, Bukovac was also responsible for the crowning image of the exhibition, Long Live the Emperor/Njeg. c. i kr. ap. Veličanstva Franje Josipa I., a piece painted in commemoration of Franz Joseph I’s visit to Zagreb in the previous year.16

The cohort chosen and displayed by Bukovac is a good reflection of the state of Croatian painting at the time, as well as a fair compass of its future direction. Of the 19 artists displayed, 17 were men, and 2 were women. The women, Anna Löwenthal and Hermina Schmigoz, both nobility with the title of baroness, presumably did not rely on art as their livelihood.17

The exhibited artists represented three distinct artistic generations. There was an old guard—three of the artists, Hugo Conrad von Hötzendorf (1807–1869), Ferdinand (Ferdo) von Quiquerez (1845–1893), and Milan Sunko (1860–1891)—who were all deceased by the time of the show: Hötzendorf already in 1869, while Quinquerez and Sunko had died only three and five years earlier, respectively. To this older group, the artist Albert Mosé (1835–1903), then aged 61, should also be assigned. Of the remaining artists whose ages are known,18 they ranged from 20 (Artur Oskar Aleksander (1876–1950)) to 45 (Anna Löwenthal (dates unknown)).

More significant is the principal site of their education: of the nine artists whose education is certain, two—Konrád Filip19 (1874–1938) and Ivan Tišov20 (1870–1928)—studied locally, in Zagreb. The majority—five of them—studied in Vienna (Oton Iveković21 (1869–1939); Bela Csikos-Sessia22 (1864–1831); Menci Clement Crnčić23 (1865–1930); Sigmund Landsinger (1855–1939); and Nikola Mašić24 (1852–1902)). Two had studied in Paris: Artur Oskar Aleksander25 (1876–1953) and Vlaho Bukovac. Though Bukovac was initially an autodidact, beginning in 1877, he undertook formal training.26 Despite its proximity, not one of the artists displayed had studied in Budapest, a reflection of the ethnic tension between residents of Croatia and the Kingdom of Hungary as a whole.

The works displayed are known (there are one or two points where different language catalogs differ regarding the content of the show), and there is photographic documentation (Figure 2, Figure 3, Figure 4, Figure 5 and Figure 6), but discerning a one-to-one correspondence between the images displayed and the photographs is difficult.27 However, it does seem that the works were grouped by artists. In Figure 4, at least three works by Budovac (Dubravka/Dubravka28, Portrait of Gustav Pongratz/djece Gustava viteza Pongratza, Gundulić Imagines Osman/Gundulić zamišlja Osmana,29 and Long Live the Emperor/Njeg. c. i kr. ap. Veličanstva Franje Josipa I30) can be clearly discerned hanging side by side. In Figure 5, Medović’s The Srijem Martyrs/Četiri sriemska mučenika pred sudom31 and Áron’s, Blind Peasant Girl at a Fountain/Sliepa djevojka u crkvi32 are both visible.33

4. Croatian Exhibition: Official Hungarian Reception

Two distinct and differing sets of Hungarian writing about the 1896 Croatian art exhibition exist. The first is the official record: exhibition publications written or sponsored by the exhibition’s organizers themselves. These materials include the official documentation and histories of the exhibition, such as Sandor Matelkovics’ nine-volume Hungary’s Economic and Cultural State. Results of the 1896 Millennial Exhibition (Matlekovics 1897), or the numerous authorized catalogs of the fair and its exhibitions. There was a general multi-volume catalog of the exhibition (Mudrony 1896), while the historical exhibition, housed in the four pavilions designed by Ignác Alpár, produced its own three-volume catalog (Nagy and Herman 1896). Mór Gelléri, one of the exhibition’s organizers, produced numerous guidebooks, which appeared in at least four different languages: Hungarian, German, French, and English (Gelléri 1896a, 1896c, 1896b, 1896d). It is interesting to note that not all official publications seem to have been produced in all four languages; when one is lacking, it tends to be the English version. There is always a German version, which is not surprising: the language was one of the two official languages of the Austro-Hungarian government. Even though the Magyars chafed at their forced linguistic association with Austria, the production of a catalog in an official language accessible to the Empire’s citizens was a keen political move. Though the Millennial Exhibition was an intensely Magyar event, celebrating their arrival in the Carpathian Basin, publication in German would both give the materials the imprimatur of official publications and additionally enable cis-leithanian visitors to enjoy the exhibition, even if only vicariously. Publication in French would appeal not only to French visitors but to any francophone at the time when French was considered the world language, spoken (or at least understood) by the educated the world over. The occasional lack of an English version is puzzling, though it could simply be an artifact of library collecting. Nonetheless, there have long been close ties between Hungary and Great Britain, but perhaps not enough visitors were expected to make a print run worthwhile.

Matlekovics’s work is an exhaustive documentation of the fair. In close to 9000 pages, various authors document, analyze, and critique the fair and its constituent exhibits in word and picture. The ninth and final volume of the work covers health, art, public education, the Count Zichy exhibition, and the Budapest City exhibition. The chapter on art is broken into three major themes: painting and sculpture, authored by Gusztáv Keleti,34 a painter and art critic; architecture, authored by Győző Czigler, an architect; and finally, music, an article composed by József Harrach, teacher and composer. The three articles follow the same general format: after a broad and general introduction to the history of the art branch in Hungary, a more detailed discussion of the branch’s representation at the fair follows. Gusztav Keleti’s section, “Painting and Sculpture”, focuses primarily on the Hungarian exhibition presented within the Műcsarnok. Of Keleti’s 70 pages of text, only 6 are devoted to the Croatian-Slavonian exhibition. And his discussion of the exhibition focuses far more on the deficiencies in the history of Croatian art, as well as the parallels he sees with Hungarian art. The essay begins:

A closer acquaintance with one another, which leads to mutual respect, is the most natural way and the surest basis, both between individuals and nations—for the development of a community of interests, a sense of belonging and fraternity.

In their relations with their partner countries, Hungarians have never experienced this in a more vividly conciliatory and benevolent way than on the occasion of the Millennial Exhibition, in which Croatia-Slavonia presented visible and tangible evidence of its economic and cultural progress in the imposing framework of three or four huge pavilions. Indeed, our wise king, who sympathizes with us, expressed the public opinion and satisfaction of the whole nation when, on the occasion of visiting the Croatian-Slavonian pavilions, he demonstrate his joy at the fact that on this occasion the brother nation, through its surprising sympathy, had given such a clear testimony to its sincere sense of unity with the motherland.35

Keleti’s presentation of Croatia-Slavonia as benefitting economically and culturally from Hungarian rule clearly sets the stage for the rest of his comments.

Keleti goes on to compare the current and near future state of Croatian art with that of Hungary from previous centuries. Talented Croatian artists were forced to expatriate in order to find success, and only after their deaths were they appreciated in their homelands. Keleti fails to acknowledge that, while in the case of Hungarian artists, it was the Ottoman Turks and then the Austrian Habsburgs whose rule fostered that flight, in the case of the Croatians, it was the Magyars themselves.

Keleti delves into discussing the 15 different artists displayed in the pavilion. He is rather dismissive of Bukovac, writing: [c]ertainly at this time, he is the most sought-after portrait painter of the Croatian distinguished society, and we can deduce not only from the large number of portraits exhibited, but also from the social status of the personalities depicted.36 While much of the criticism portion of the essay is devoted to Bukovac, who, as may be recalled, had the largest number of works in the exhibition, attention is also paid to the younger generation, especially Celestin Mato Medović, whose The Srijem Martyrs/Četiri sriemska mučenika pred sudom and Sacrifice to Bacchus During the Persecution of Christians/Žrtva Bacchu za vrieme pro gonstva kršćana37 are both praised.

Keleti closes his brief discussion of the Croatian painting thus:

In the Croatian-Slavonian Art Hall we thought several times: what a pity that the products of Croatian sister artists have so rarely, or rather never found their way into the exhibitions of the Hungarian capital! How interesting it would be to study the differences of their color poetry in comparison to ours. In filling this gap, we hope to be able to welcome next year one of the precious achievements of the millennium celebration.38

At the exhibition, many of the exhibitors, whether government or privately sponsored, produced their own publications. The Croatian pavilion produced an official catalog, Croatia and Slavonia at the National Exhibition Organized in Budapest in 1896 to Celebrate the Thousand-Year Anniversary of Hungary, which included material about all three of the actual exhibition spaces; the fourth space, the refreshments stand, had no displays. Three different catalogs—a Hungarian-, Croatian-, and German-language version—were printed. All seem to be rather accurate translations of the presumably Hungarian original.39

The Croatian-Slavonian catalog is divided into two parts. The first section, “Introduction”, provides a comprehensive overview of Croatia’s history, political organization, geography, ethnography, agriculture, industries, education, health, and finally, architecture and fine arts. The second section, “The Exhibitions and the Exhibited Objects Index”, is a piece-by-piece listing of the objects displayed in all three Croatian pavilions, with the following displays: Forestry, Industrial Arts, and Fine Arts.40

Although the catalog is an official representation of the Croatian-Slavonian exhibits, the tone it takes in describing the history of Croatian art is rather critical. The catalog essay presents a very different vision of Croatian art to that presented in Keleti’s essay. The essay, whose author is unnamed, begins, provocatively: “[i]n Croatia-Slavonia, there is no trace of independent art from an older time”.41 Then, like Keleti, the author goes on to describe how Croatian artists found fame and fortune outside of Croatia, stifling the domestic development of art. The story then resumes in 1835, with Konrad Hetzendorff presented as the pioneer of Croatian art in the 19th century. The author discusses a number of artists, many of whom were displayed at the Millennial Exhibition, but, interestingly, devotes little ink to Bukovac, whose career he summarizes pointedly: “As finished painters, Bukovac Vlaho and Medović Celestine moved to Zagreb a few years ago, both of Dalmatian origin. The former trained in America, especially in Paris, under Cabenel…”.42

Greater emphasis is given to those artists who trained in Croatia, especially at the Zagreb Crafts School (now the Applied Art and Design School); these included János Tišov and Robert Frangeš. Also mentioned as “the younger forces working in the field of painting” are Béla Csikós, Kelemen Crnčić, Zsiga(sic) Landsinger, and Hochetlinger.43

After praising the support of the Ministry of Religion and Public Education in providing the studio space for several of these younger artists—Medović, Tišov, Csikós, Iveković, and Frankoš—as well as awarding commissions for the decoration of the Ministry’s offices to younger as well as more established artists,44 the painting section of the catalog essay concludes on a hopeful note:

Due to the lively impulse given by the national government to the above-mentioned artists mainly for the large hall of the Department of Religion and Public Education and for churches, we can only now speak of an artistic movement in Croatia. It is to be hoped that this new formation in the development of our art will rise to a considerable degree of artistic perfection if many young workers join these artists, who, with the aid of the national government, receive their training at the various art institutes of the monarchy and abroad at this time.45

5. Croatian Exhibition: Popular Hungarian Reception

Unsurprisingly, the official exhibition publications look favorably upon the exhibition, glossing over shortcomings. In contrast, then, there is the reception in the Hungarian popular press. As the Millennial Fair was a, perhaps even the, major national and cultural event of the year, almost every publication included articles about it, with specialized journals focusing on their own areas of interest. The idiosyncratic Építészeti szemle, published by Janos Bobula, ran two articles about the exhibition building: one focusing on the structure itself, the other on the contents. The author of the first, smaller article—one of a series of short pieces about the exhibition structures—focusing on the actual structure of the pavilion was rather paradoxically critical, praising the building as one of the most beautiful of the exhibition 46 but decrying the fact that, while at least ten times larger than the Telephone-News building by Gusztav Wehle, it had no more decorative ornament than its significantly smaller companion.47 However, it is possible that this was meant as a compliment, as in a second article, “The Croatian Fine Art Section”, the building is characterized as “one of the highlights of the exhibition”, though perhaps again, focusing on the building more than the contents. The article continues that while the exhibition is well organized, and its size is, at the first glance, an impressive manifestation of Croatian artistic activity, closer inspection reveals that only four of the painters are actually interesting. And of those four, a majority of the works are by Vlaho Bukovac.48 The article goes on to praise Bukovac for his versatility but criticizes him for his lack of ability to moderate his bravura style and focus on the subject at hand. The three other artists who received positive comments were Medović, Csikos, and Mašić.

More mainstream publications also critiqued the Croatian exhibition. László Kézdi-Kovács, an art critic for the daily Pesti Hirlap, wrote an extensive article on the exhibit, considering in great detail several of the works. However, he began by reporting on the French critic “Mr. Tissot”, who, in writing about the Millennial Exhibition, its displays, and its festivities, mistook the very small Croatian art display for the major Hungarian art display. His critique provides a certain levity to the article. According to Tissot, the “Hungarians” have made great progress in all areas; their art is still like a baby smiling in the cradle. While their art gallery is “a charming abode”, it is as small as their artistic community, which Tissot numbers at about twenty artists. “Of these, I saw the same name on about 30 paintings, who is undoubtedly the most famous Hungarian painter. His name is Bukovac Vlaho.49

Kézdi-Kovács blames the confusion on the reluctance of Hungarian artists to sponsor a banquet in the Műcsarnok, the site of the real Hungarian art display, because of the cost. Tissot thus wandered into the wrong venue, and his misconception was born. Had the Hungarian artists simply borne the 100,000-crown cost of a buffet, the praises of Hungarian art would be in newspapers from Japan to Bolivia, even as far afield, he writes, as Hades.

After this vituperative introduction, Kézdi-Kovács goes on to critique the Croatian exhibition, discerning within it many of the same flaws, which Tissot had erroneously attributed to the Hungarians. He notes the extraordinarily small number of Croatian artists and the inordinately large number of works by Bukovac. Nonetheless, he praises the artist as a lively and fresh-faced newcomer, whose absence from the Budapest art scene could only be regretted.50 Of the other 15 artists on display, Kézdi-Kovács singles out Medović, Csikós, Áron, Mašićs, and Frangeš. In conclusion, Kézdi-Kovács mentions the unspoken undercurrent of national discord between the Magyars and the Croats: “See, the popular figure of Miklós Zrínyi also shows that we often got along with our Croatian brothers and sisters without constantly butting heads”.51

Tamas Szana, writing in the Fővárosi Lapok, concurred with the opinions already discussed. While praising the physical exhibit and the beauty and decoration of the light-filled rooms, he decries the installation itself, complaining that while there is enough art for two rooms, it is all crammed into a single room. Further, the dearth of variety in the artists is evoked, with him saying, “I can easily count on my ten finger the Croatian artists on display in Budapest”.52 He too considers Medovićs, Csikós, Áron, Mašić, and Frangeš to be among the more talented of those displayed.

One of the most insightful and trenchant critiques of the Croatian art display stems from the pen of Ludwig Hevesi.53 His article in the exhibition supplement of the Budapest-published German-language Pester Lloyd is one of the few articles of the period, which considers, in depth, the actual work, not the paucity of painters or mistaken identity. Hevesi writes lyrically about Croatian painting, placing it within the spectrum of “Slavic” art, invoking the Pole Matejko54 and the Russian Vereshchagin55 as representatives of that genre. He sees the colors of their works as a reflection of the environment: the fat brilliant colors of berries and the yellow of corn, which can lean all the way to orange. “Tell me what you eat”, he writes, “and I will tell you what color you paint with”.56 Even when they study abroad, in Paris or Munich, while their palettes may speak French or German, they always do so with a Slavic accent. There are, according to Hevesi, only two types of painting into which the Slavs can throw themselves: history and plein-air. Even then, the works bear the marks of their originators: history painting becomes the metaphor for political discontent and landscape an unbridled representation of the sun and air of the homelands. Ultimately, Hevesi favors three artists: Bukovac, Medović, and finally, Mašić, who, Hevesi reminds the viewer, has exhibited extensively in Austria-Hungary.

The positive reaction to Croatian painting was not limited to just Ludwig Hevesi. As Rachel Rossner described it, Croatian newspapers were filled with the laudatia of the foreign press—to their minds, a vindication of Croatian painting (Rossner 2007, p. 93).

6. Croatian and Hungarian Painting in Copenhagen, 1897

One of the goals of the 1896 Croatian exhibition was the promotion of an independent Croatian art to the Croats, to the Hungarians, and to the world as a whole. This attempt was successful: not only did the idea of an independent Croatian art germinate, but Zagreb also gained a new art venue. Just as the Budapest Millennial Exhibition was ending, Copenhagen’s Ny Carlsberg Gallery hosted an International Art Exhibition, its inaugural show. In a letter57 authored by the museum’s founder and the inaugural show’s organizer, the Danish brewer Carl Jacobsen, the purpose of the show was to give the public a historical overview of the development of modern art. While there were some works by deceased masters from the middle of the 19th century, the emphasis was on modern trends. Thus, Jacobsen continued, you will find academic and secessionist works exhibited next to each other. He continues: “Each nation will have its own separate hall, which will make the overview considerably easier”.58 Jacobsen further notes that “[c]ontrary to what usually happens, all participants in this exhibition have received a special invitation so that it would not be crowded with works of lower rank”.59

Two points stand out from this correspondence. First, Jacobsen treats Austria-Hungary as a single political entity in the accounting of the numbers of works from participants while listing Croatia separately, as if it were already an independent country, not a political vassal of Hungary. Second, that Jacobsen personally invited all participants speaks to an international awareness of Croatian modern painters and modern paintings. Granted, it is possible that it was not Jacobsen himself who was aware of Croatian painting, but the fact that someone in the Danish art industry of the time was aware of Croatian painting and Vlaho Bukovac, its main protagonist, speaks volumes.

The Danish Croatian exhibit in 1897 was significantly smaller than that of the Budapest 1896 exhibit. Instead of the 120 or so works shown in Budapest, there were only 20 works. But many of the same artists were displayed: Robert Auer, Vlaho Bukovac, Prof. Béla v. Csikos, Otou (sic) Jvekovic, Nikola Mašić, M. C. Medović, Ivan Tisov, and Rudolf Valdec. Notably missing were the three deceased artists who had been shown in Budapest, though in keeping with Jacobsen’s desire that the show represent the modern movement, this is understandable. Again missing are the two female artists: Anna Löwenthal and Hermina Schmigoz.

The show does not seem to have made a terribly great impact on the art world. There seems to be no mention of it in either Austrian or Hungarian newspapers and art journals.

7. 1898, the Year of Croatian Artistic Independence

The years 1897–1898 were a watershed for Croatian painting. Two exhibitions—one large, one small; one domestic, one international—demonstrated to the Croats, and the world, the independence of Croatian painting.

The national exhibition was the inaugural show at the newly re-erected Art Pavilion/Umjetnički paviljon in Zagreb,60 the self-same structure, which had housed the Croatian Art Exhibition in Budapest two years earlier.61 The D.H.U. (Druztvo hrvatskih umjetnika/Society of Croatian Artists) exhibition consisted of some 158 works,62 the vast majority of which were paintings or graphic works.63

A similar cohort of artists were presented in Zagreb as had been presented in Budapest two years earlier. Bukovac, the leading Croatian painter of the day, was again involved with the organization of the show. The number of his works displayed, about 50, or one-third of the total number of works, might be a reflection of his involvement, although it might also be a reflection of the esteem in which he was held by the Croatian art establishment.

A significant and noteworthy change in the roster of artists is the addition of several more female artists. While Baroness Löwenthal, listed grandiloquently as “Anka Barunica Löwenthal Maroičić de Madonna del Monte”, does appear again in the catalog, it is with only a single work. Baroness Schmigoz was not among the artists on display. However, two other women were present: Slava Raškaj (1877–1906) and Zora Pl. Preradović (1867–1927).

Vilma Vukelic describes the exhibition as having produced “a luxuriously illustrated catalogue…published in four volumes” (Vukelic 2020, p. 277), which featured reproduction of the paintings, several photographs, and “a comprehensive written overview of the whole event” (Vukelic 2020, p. 277). The centennial of that show was celebrated with an exhibition (Ukrainčik and Reberski 1998).

8. Croatian Art and Its Relationship with Vienna

The various authors of reviews of the Croatian Art Pavilion tangentially touch upon a number of common issues, the relationship among Zagreb, Budapest, and Vienna prime among them.

The choice of the art academy for an Austro-Hungarian artist of the day was not just an educational decision but a significant and meaningful political and cultural one. The organization of the Empire meant that each imperial half supervised and supported its own system of education, including art academies.64 In the 19th century, Vienna and Budapest both had art academies, although the Viennese one was significantly older. It traced its origins to the late 17th century, while the Hungarian one was founded only in the late 1800s, after the implementation of the Compromise of 1867.65 The instruction in each school was in the local language of the imperial half. While both Hungarian and German were official imperial languages, far fewer citizens who spoke German also spoke Hungarian, while most middle-class Hungarians spoke at least basic German. But when Hungarian artists wished to train abroad, despite its proximity and artistic importance, they would often studiously avoid Vienna for political reasons. This does not mean that all artists avoided Vienna; enough studied there over the centuries that a significant book was published about it (Fleischer 1935). But there was a general reluctance, especially with the rise of Magyar nationalism following the Compromise, to study in Vienna despite its allure. To encourage educational exchange between the imperial halves, Franz Josef I even instituted a special annual scholarship to the Academy of Fine Arts designated for one of each: a student of painting, a student of architecture, and a student of sculpture, from the Hungarian portion of the Empire; few took advantage of the opportunity. That the reasons were political, though, rather than cultural or linguistic, is evidenced by the fact that Munich and Berlin, also German-speaking cities, were common destinations for Hungarian artists.

Just as the Hungarians eschewed Vienna for political and cultural reasons, so too did Croatians avoid Budapest. For the Croatians, Vienna was one common locale of study, but Munich seems to have been more popular.66 But even when studying together in the Bavarian capital, Hungarians and Croats would attend different écoles: the Hungarians gravitated toward the studio of Simon Hollosy, while the Croats preferred that of Anton Ažbe.67

9. Paris 1900

At the 1900 Paris Exposition, Austria and Hungary constructed distinctly separate national pavilions, a reflection of the growing discontent with Dualism. The buildings’ forms clearly demonstrated the image each polity, Austrian and Hungarian, wished to present to the world. Interestingly, though, both produced structures, which looked to historical architecture. The Austrian pavilion, the Reichshaus, designed by the architect Ludwig Baumann,68 was Maria-Theresia Baroque. The Hungarian pavilion, designed by the architects Bálint and Jámbor, prominently featured a citation of the Vajdahunyad, the ancestral home of Matyas Corvinus, the great Renaissance king of Hungary. The building itself was a reworking of Ignác Alpár’s main historical exhibition building of the 1896 Millennial Exhibition, though neither as large nor as elaborate.

Immediately adjacent to the Hungarian pavilion was the Bosnian-Herzegovinian pavilion. Designed by Karel Panek, the interior decoration was devised by the Moravian-born artist Alfons Mucha. Mucha also designed the poster advertising Austrian participation.69

Although both Austria and Hungary displayed artwork in their respective national pavilions, the majority of works were in the art exhibition located in the Grand Palais, a structure especially built for the 1900 exposition. The Austrian exhibition at the Grand Palais consisted of close to 300 objects. Interestingly, they were primarily organized by the artists’ affiliation: Genossenschaft der bildenden Künstler Wiens, Vereinigung bildender Künstler Österreichs, more commonly known as the Secession; Comite der in Paris lebenden österreichischen Künstler; the Prager Zweigecomité; and the Krakauer Zweigecomité. Secondarily, within the organizational affiliation, works were then organized by medium.

The works selected by and representing the Prague and the Krakow committees were not situated in the Grand Palais with the Austrian works among those of other nations. These works were displayed within Baumann’s Reichshaus in four rooms on the first floor (Pendl 1900, p. 23). The overall exhibition was quite small; the Prague committee displayed 62 works, while the Polish committee was represented by a mere 34 works.

Most of the Hungarian art, about 250 pieces, was exhibited in the Grand Palais. Included in the Hungarian exhibition was a smaller and separate display of Croatian, Slavonian, and Dalmatian art (Figure 7). In the French-language catalog, following a 26-page-long essay on the history of Hungarian art and listing of the works displayed was a 4-page essay on the history of Croatian painting with no listed author but presumably written by Elek Koronghi Lippich, who authored the main essay of the catalog and was one of the organizers of Hungarian participation at the Paris Exposition. Like the catalog from the 1896 show with its disparaging opening “There is no Croatian Art” here, the essay began: “Apart from the famous painters of the Cinquecento, Julio Clavio, Medulic, and the priest Mathias of Miletince, we find almost no trace that would denote an artistic movement in Croatia-Slavonia for the Middle Ages.70” The essay then picks up the history of Croatian painting with Vlaho Bukovac.

Even in the discussion of more recent Croatian art, the article is still dismissive. Its author discerns two main strains in Croatian painting: the nationalist realist school and the more impressionist school. The approach of the entire catalog is the viewpoint that modern Croatian art is merely derivative. Indeed, the brief essay concludes by proclaiming, “one hopes the artistic movement which is manifesting itself in the Croatian capital will exercise a salutary influence on the intellectual life of the Slavs of the south of the monarchy, similar to the effect produced by Croatian literature”.71 Following the essay was the listing of works in the “Croatian, Slavonian, and Dalmatian Artists” exhibition.

Given the political organization of Austria-Hungary at the time, the grouping of these three regions, Croatia, Slavonia, and Dalmatia, is interesting. While Croatia and Slavonia were part of the Hungarian trans-leithanian portion of the Empire, the kingdom of Dalmatia was ruled from the Austrian cis-leithanian portion of the Empire. Indeed, one of the spaces within the Austrian Reichshaus was dedicated to an exhibit of the Verein zur Hebung des wirtschaflichen Verhältnisse Dalmatiens, arranged by Johann Graf Harrach and Dr. Michael Haberlandt, evidence of Austrian economic and cultural interest (Pendl 1900, p. 23).

In the organization of the display, the early stages of the emergence of cultural nationalism’s triumph over politics are visible. The Dalmatians, politically Austrian, were culturally southern Slavs. The grouping of the three regions, Croatia, Slavonia, and Dalmatia, despite their political separation, remained a coherent one and seems to have had an encouraging effect on the participants. A few years later, in 1908, the Prva dalmatinska umjetnička izložba/First Dalmatian Art Exhibition in Split, despite the limiting name, again united artists of Dalmatia, Croatia, and Slavonia, this time in Split.72

The Croatian, Slavonian, and Dalmatian exhibition as a whole was significantly smaller, consisting of fewer than 40 works. Even though many of the artists who were displayed in the 1896 Croatian exhibition were again displayed in 1900, they were represented in far smaller numbers. Bukovac, the epitome of Croatian painting, this time only had nine works, one-third of what he had displayed four years earlier in Budapest. The Croatian, Slavonian, and Dalmatian participation in the 1900 Paris Exposition seems to have been managed not by Croatians, as in 1896, but rather by the Hungarian authorities who, in word and deed, minimized Croatian artistic achievement.

Despite the catalog essay’s cursory dismissal of Croatian painting, it is clear from the objects displayed that the art branch was undergoing great transformations. A simple comparison of two of the major works from the 1896 exhibition, Bukovac’s Gundulić Imagines Osman or his Long Live the King!, with his 1900 contribution My Nest73 shows a dramatic evolution. The crisp academic historicism of the two earlier works was abandoned from an incredibly loose and emotional representation of home life. Again, while many of the actual images have not yet been found, at least in Bukovac’s trajectory, this evolution is quite clear.

10. Croatian Art: Hungarian Descriptions

Again, there are two distinct and very different descriptions of the Croatian contribution to the Paris Exhibition. The official catalog of the Hungarian Fine Arts exhibit devotes 28 pages to the history of Hungarian art. The catalog lauds the difficulties Hungary and Hungarian art have overcome to reach the esteemed place they now hold in the world.

Croatian (and Slavonian and Dalmatian) art is again given short shrift. In a scant six pages, the story of Croatian art is again given as in 1896: “[a]part from the famous painters of the Cinquecento, Julio Clavio, Medulic, and the priest Mathias of Miletince, we find almost no trace that would denote an artistic movement in Croatia-Slavonia for the Middle Ages” (Lippich 1900, p. 45). This essay credits Ferdinand Quiquever (sic) as the first painter to attract the attention of Croatians but then immediately shifts focus to Bukovac and his influence.

The cursory essay ends on an optimistic though relatively patronizing note:

[the] lively interest aroused in the whole nation give reason to hope that the artistic movement which is manifesting itself in the Croatian capital will exercise a salutary influence on the intellectual life of the Slavs of the south of the monarchy, similar to the effect produced by Croatian literature.

(Lippich 1900, p. 48)

The treatment of the exhibition within the Hungarian press is rather different. None of the optimism is present; indeed, in the essay on Hungarian Fine Arts, József Diner-Dénes does not mention the Croatian portion at all (Erdélyi 1901).

11. Croatian Art: Foreign Descriptions

However, the Croatian exhibition is not ignored in another publication of the fair: the work Exposition universelle, 1900, the chefs-d’œuvre published in Philadelphia the year following the fair. In a nine-volume richly illustrated work, the book’s authors, Victor Champier, André Saglio, and William Walton, discuss at length the artworks of the fair, breaking them down in part by nationality, with both Austria and Hungary treated in separate sections. Within the Austrian section, however, the works of the Prager and Krakauer Zweigcomités are both discussed, and in favorable terms.

The text of the Hungarian section, though nominally authored by Americans, closely follows that of other Hungarian-language publications of the fair and indeed credits Lippich de Korongh, the chief author of the Hungarian publications, as the source for much of the essay. Emphasizing the uniqueness of Hungarian history, especially Hungary’s role as a bastion against the Turks, which slowed its development following the golden age of Matthias Corvinus, the essay then quickly describes the development of Hungarian art and art education in the 19th century, with the quick succession of schools, art academies, and foundations all promoting the development of Hungarian art. Yet, in the entire discussion, there is no mention of Croatia.

Most interesting, though, is the section entitled The Art of the Minor European States. The section begins:

The painters of the minor States and dependencies of the multitudinous Austrian Empire give evidence, in their works, of various qualities which bring them closely in touch with those of other European schools, more especially the contemporary ones, and also of various national and local characteristics which serve to distinguish them,—and which yet may be claimed to be more local variations and accents and not truly distinguishing and separating traits.

(Champier et al. 1900, p. 51)

12. St. Louis Description

By the 1904 World’s Fair, both Austria and Hungary were loath to display, victims of a turn-of-the-century ailment, Ausstellungsmüdigskeit. Hungary chose not to have a separate national pavilion. Instead, they created a national space within the Manufactures building. Austria had originally considered not even participating, but vehement protests from Austrian industrialist groups forced the government to reconsider. Ultimately, they not only participated but committed to building a free-standing national pavilion, one of only a few in the international portion of the fair.

The Austrian Pavilion (Figure 8), again designed by Ludwig Baumann, with construction supervision by Josef Urban (who additionally exhibited as member of the Hagenbund), was a strikingly unique presence at the fair. It was the only modernist pavilion at the fair, though this was more a reflection of the Austrian authorities’ apathy to design rather than a modernist or avant-garde intent.74

The pavilion featured two architect-designed rooms: a parlor/reception room by Leopold Bauer and a reading room/library by Josef Plečnik. The rear of the t-shaped pavilion housed several rooms with art exhibitions. The exhibitors included the Vienna School of Arts and Crafts, the Prague School of Arts and Crafts, Polish Artists, Bohemian Artists, and the Hagenbund.

Hungary did not have a separate national pavilion in St. Louis. Instead, within the Manufactures building, a distinct exhibition space, defined by large wooden walls, was created (Figure 9). In contrast to the modernist Austrian pavilion, it was very folk and rustic. The Hungarian art exhibition, one of the few to produce and distribute its own catalog, was situated solely within the Art Pavilion (now the St. Louis Art Museum). There were two notable features to the Hungarian art exhibit, which differentiated it from all the other national exhibitions at the fair. First, many of the works were for sale, which had not been the case at previous exhibitions. Second, and more strikingly, there was no ethnic differentiation or regional origin given for the works, be it Croatian, Slavonian, Transylvanian, or Ruthenian: all were simply labeled Hungarian. By 1904, Croatian art had been disappeared from Hungarian art history; but it did not disappear from the Austro-Hungarian Empire as a whole.

Outside of its Hungarian framework, Croatian art continued to develop and to be displayed. The 1896 Art Pavilion, once re-erected in Zagreb, was home to almost two dozen shows until the First World War, many focusing on Southern Slav art.75 Within the Austro-Hungarian Empire, before it broke asunder, there was at least one more great display of Southern Slav (Croatia, Slavonian, and Dalmatian) art. This time, it was in Vienna as part of the 1912 Adria Exhibition, held in Vienna’s Prater.76 Around the Prater lake, a series of temporary exhibition buildings were erected, which recreated the historical monuments of the Adriatic coast, including the renowned Rector’s Palace in Dubrovnik. Within the structures, historical, cultural, and folk artifacts were displayed. Rector’s Palace recreation housed the art exhibitions, of which there seem to have been two: a general exhibition, with primarily Viennese artists but with an emphasis on the Adriatic coast and culture as subject matter. Housed within the palace as well, though separated, was an exhibition of work by “Dalmatian” artists, among whom numbered Bukovac and Medović. The addresses of the “Dalmatian” artists, as listed in the back of the catalog, is revealing (Ausstellung Dalmatinischer 1913). Of the ten artists listed, two resided in Prague, where one, Vlaho Bukovac, was professor at the Academy of Fine Arts. Five listed Viennese addresses. Rudolf Marčić, in military service, was stationed in Pressburg, then part of Hungary. Of the two who resided anywhere near the Adriatic, one listed his address as Trieste, the other as Split. Perhaps the “Dalmatian” of the exhibition referred not so much to their residence as to their subject matter, which was indeed focused on the Adriatic coastline.

In the nearly ten years between the 1896 Millennial Exhibition and the 1904 St. Louis World’s Fair, little is written about Croatian art and even less displayed in Hungarian-organized exhibitions. Croatian art seems to have disappeared, or perhaps better said, migrated from Hungarian consciousness to Austrian consciousness, though conflated with Dalmatian. From 1896, when Zagreb gained the first public art gallery in the Balkans, Croatian art thrived, as did the art of all the South Slavs. Hungary did not “disappear” Croatian art so much as, in its adolescence, Croatian art set out on its own.