“The Thinker”

Last weekend, while reading an art history book, I came across a familiar face dubbed “The Thinker”. No, it wasn’t Michelangelo’s Lorenzo de Medici lost in thought, and it wasn’t Rodin’s famous sculpture either. It was the original, Neolithic version of “The Thinker”. When was the last time I had seen it? It must have been in grade 5 history class that I became acquainted with it, and never thought about it ever since.  And now there he was, in all his glory, looking back at me in the company of another piece called “Seated Woman”.

“Is this couple so famous that it became part of  art history books?”I marveled. I was very impressed!

The "Thinker" & the "Seated Woman" - Masterpieces of Neolithic Art by londonconstant.

The two clay statuettes were found in Cernavoda, Romania, in 1956, in a tomb near the river Danube. They originate from the Hamangia culture, an early farming society emerging in the sixth millennium B.C. They were found among other similar but headless figurines. There is no unanimous agreement on the age of the artifacts, various sources dating them somewhere between 2500 B.C. and 6000 B.C.

There are plenty of other statuettes from the Neolithic, but none of what I’ve seen display the high degree of care for form, gesture and emotional involvement. These figurines are clearly the work of an artist.

The woman is depicted in a casual way, sitting with arms resting on one knee. Her robust thighs and hips follow the usual Neolithic approach to femininity (i.e. abundance and fertility), but the well defined hands are positioned softly and gently on the knee.  The portrayal of the woman is executed with sensibility and subtlety uncharacteristic to that age.



Can it get any better than this?  It sure can! The maker shows even more concern for the male figure.


He is seated on a meticulously modelled and realistic stool.  Lost in thought, his facial expression and suggestive gesture show anguish and worry. The artist made a conscious effort to articulate his subject’s state of mind. If the statuettes were to be used for nothing but religious ritualistic purposes, he would have not bothered with that. I suspect he made the figures for his own pleasure, like all artists do. The heavily stylized anatomy and facial expression look very contemporary to our eyes. The Thinker’s arresting presence conveys that perhaps what we are witnessing is one of the beginning moments of art where a personal aesthetic and independent thought take priority over the generalized tastes of the collective. And what a huge leap is that for humanity! Thousands of years of progress follow, a lengthy but steady evolution, until art arrives back to where it had started. I keep thinking that Brancusi himself could have carved these figures! Art has indeed come full circle…

This novelty is a Romanian coin dedicated to The Thinker:



The picture below demonstrates the draw of these statuettes even in the present day. Artists and artisans are inspired by the mastery of these figures. These are contemporary copies of the sculptures.

The Thinker of Hamangia and his Woman

And lastly, this is my sculpture inspired by these two figurines, titled “Evolution”. For more pictures follow the link: https://erikatakacs.wordpress.com/2010/03/10/evolution-new-sculpture/


Inspired by the art of Csontváry

Today I’d like to write about one of my favourite painters. I must have been 12 when I first saw his large sized paintings.  They made quite an impact on me.

Csontváry (1853-1919), was born in Hungary the same year as Van Gogh, had a similar life, and as a painter was his equal (in my opinion). Unfortunately his contemporaries did not understand the symbolism of his vision. He was a loner and a schizophrenic.

c. 1900
Oil on canvas, 67 x 39,5 cm
Hungarian National Gallery, Budapest

At the age of 27 Csontváry had a vision. A voice told him he was going to become the biggest sunway painter (in his words), bigger than Raffaello. Nobody knows what he meant by “sunway”. He worked for more than 10 years as a pharmacist to make enough money to support himself as a painter. He was 41 when he set out for Paris, but like Van Gogh, didn’t stay long at the Academy. Like Gauguin, he yearned for something pure and simple, but he found the exotic in the people and nature of  the Middle East.

Old Fisherman
Oil on canvas, 59,5 x 45 cm
Herman Ottó Museum, Miskolc



Csontváry painted thousand year old cedars in Lebanon, this one here is one of the best, titled “The Solitary Cedar”. The tree personifies him, the lonely artist, misunderstood and ridiculed by many.  The sheer size of this canvas, and the incredibly vibrant colours left me breathless and speechless. I felt small and insignificant, overpowered by his art.

The Solitary Cedar
Oil on canvas, 194 x 248 cm
Janus Pannonius Museum, Pécs

He held about three exhibits in his lifetime, largely ignored by the public and the press. He probably never sold a painting. Because of lack of success and loneliness he slowly descended into mental illness and was unable to paint another painting.


Oil on canvas, 385 x 714,5 cm
Janus Pannonius Museum, Pécs (loan)

After his death he remained unknown for a very long time due to most of his work being owned by a private collector. Today his collection is exhibited in national galleries in Hungary.

Pilgrimage to the Cedars in Lebanon
Oil on canvas, 200 x 205 cm
Hungarian National Gallery, Budapest