Martin Munkácsi

ferrotyped, mounted, title in ink on the mount, inscribed 'Martin Munkacsi Photograph' by the photographer's wife in ink and with Metropolitan Museum of Art collection and 'de-accessioned' stamps on the reverse, circa 1923, printed in the 1940s

Estate of the photographer

Collection of The Metropolitan Museum of Art

Sotheby's New York, 2 October 1996, Sale 6888, Lot 218

Pesti Napló, 15 April 1928, p. 81

Photographie (Arts et Métiers Graphiques, 1931), p. 110

Nancy White and John Esten, Style in Motion (New York, 1979), p. 96

Aperture: Martin Munkácsi (Millerton, 1992), frontispiece

F. C. Gundlach, ed., Martin Munkácsi (New York: International Center of Photography, 2006), pp. 27 and 40

Retrospecktive Fotografie: Martin Munkácsi (Bielefeld/Düsseldorf, 1980), p. 1

Martin Munkácsi: A Retrospective (Woodstock, 1985), p. 11

Maria Morris Hambourg and Christopher Phillips, The New Vision, Photography Between the World Wars (The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 1989), pl. 74

Sarah Greenough, et al., On the Art of Fixing a Shadow:  One Hundred and Fifty Years of Photography (Washington, D. C.: National Gallery and Art Institute of Chicago, 1989), p. 294

Manfred Heiting, et al., At the Still Point: Photographs from the Manfred Heiting Collection, Volume II, Part 1 (Los Angeles and Amsterdam, 2000), p. 297

This ferrotyped print has been mounted on a white board. The edges of the image are rubbed, with tiny chipping at the upper and right edges. There are small, sharp creases in the corners, edges, and in the lower portion of the print that likely occurred prior to mounting. When examined in raking light, the following are visible: deposits of original retouching, particularly in the upper half; light scuffs; scratches; and minor indentations. These are not obvious when viewing the print normally and do not detract from its appearance. The mount edges are rubbed, age-darkened, with small losses of the top paper ply and a tear at the lower edge. The corners are rounded and creased, and there are some small losses of the top paper ply. The periphery of the reverse of the mount is age-darkened and rubbed. The reverse is lightly soiled.
In response to your inquiry, we are pleased to provide you with a general report of the condition of the property described above. Since we are not professional conservators or restorers, we urge you to consult with a restorer or conservator of your choice who will be better able to provide a detailed, professional report. Prospective buyers should inspect each lot to satisfy themselves as to condition and must understand that any statement made by Sotheby's is merely a subjective qualified opinion.
NOTWITHSTANDING THIS REPORT OR ANY DISCUSSIONS CONCERNING CONDITION OF A LOT, ALL LOTS ARE OFFERED AND SOLD "AS IS" IN ACCORDANCE WITH THE CONDITIONS OF SALE PRINTED IN THE CATALOGUE.

An avid contributor to the European illustrated press of his day, Munkácsi’s personal style incorporated a radical approach that was at odds with conventional notions of photojournalism.  This image—which is here called Foreign Water, but was also reproduced with the titles 'Motorcyclist, Budapest,' and 'Getting Into Spring'—captures a motorcyclist as he plunges through a puddle.  In its embrace of chance, and evocation of the wet and rutted roads of springtime, this photograph balances the documentary with the experimental. 

A motorcyclist and an all-around sportsman, the young Munkácsi was an enthusiastic sports photographer.  By the early 1920s, his work appeared regularly in the Hungarian newspapers Az Est and Pesti Napló, and later in the Berliner Illustrirte Zeitung.   Munkácsi traveled widely for BIZ and filed his action-packed photographs from four continents. 

Fellow Hungarian photographer, Gábor Dezso Hackett, described Munkácsi’s immersive approach to his craft:

‘I saw him kneeling in the water of a moat at a steeplechase, “shooting” horses as they jumped the obstacles, saw him tie himself outside the rear seat of a racing car and shoot alongside using a 5 x 7 inch “miniature” camera. “Crazy Angle” Munkácsi, that’s what they called him; at other times he was “Dripping” Munkácsi, because he was always running into the editor's office waving the hardly washed, still dripping wet first print’ (‘Martin Munkácsi,’ Infinity, September 1963, Vol. 12).