Tucked away on Nagymező Street in Budapest is the Mai Manó House—a storied institution of photographic excellence. You might not notice it if you were, say, taking photos of the bright peach colored Operetta Theater just across the street. Not that I know from personal experience.
If it were me, though, I’d probably turn around thinking, “Who even likes operettas, anyway?” while trying to remember the lyrics that come after “I Am the Very Model of a Modern Major-General” and be instantly struck by a much more sophisticated building buried behind ridiculous palm trees and outside seating for a coffee shop.
Turns out, it’s the Mai Manó House. Which for some reason I assumed was, what, Italian? It’s not. I took some half-assed photos, went home, and did some Googling while sipping palinka. Turns out the place just reeks history.
The building was built in the 19th-century charm as the creative studio for Mai Manó, a renowned Hungarian Royal Court Photographer. He was known particularly for this skill in capturing portraits of childhood in a uniquely delightful way. He made waves across the continent, and his work was featured in major exhibitions. His reputation attracted a glamorous clientele, increasing the prestige of the studio with every shutter snap.
The building isn’t really all that grand, but oh man is it cool. Its Neo-Renaissance façade is covered with intricate ornamentation, most of it cast in Zsolnay unique majolica. Just wow. Inside, a symmetrical marble staircase in the lobby leads up to a reception room and Mai Manó’s apartment. Another decorative staircase led to the second floor, where a sunlit studio stood just off a waiting room with windows by the renowned Hungarian mosaicist and stained-glass artist Miksa Róth. The third floor was rental apartments, while the fourth and fifth floors has dark rooms and workspaces for retouchers, colorists, and copiers—all under a beautiful glass roof.
After Manó's death in 1917, Hugo Weisz, another acclaimed photographer, took over the studios. Weisz left his mark, too, continuing the house's legacy with his progressive approach to photography that brought an entirely new dimension to the art of capturing images.
In 1930, Sándor Rozsnyai purchased the building, modifying the ground floor and yard to create the famous Arizóna nightclub. The Arizóna was different from the other clubs in Budapest at the time—more modern, more diverse, and more daring. It had a New York-style interior, it played the jazz and swing music that were popular in America, and it hosted alternative theatre troupes, cabaret performers, and experimental musicians. The club’s clientele were curious, adventurous, and open-minded celebrities, artists, politicians, and bohemians—including none other than Britain's Edward VIII and Wallis Simpson. It survived right up to the outbreak of World War II in 1939, when it was shut down.
And like nearly everything in Budapest, the building suffered through 45 years of Communist rule. As with many grand buildings in the capital, it was artlessly carved up into countless small apartments as the authorities relocated of peasants into cities and the bourgeoisie into the country. But since 1998, there has been a steady effort to reconstruct the building, which is now gradually being converted into the Hungarian House of Photographers as funds become available to purchase individual apartments.
These days, the Mai Manó House doubles as the Hungarian House of Photography, boasting an impressive collection of photographic works, from vintage prints to modern installations. The once-bustling studio is now an exhibition hall, while the former painting studio has been transformed into the Sunlight Studio, a space where contemporary artists can create their own visions.
Stumbling across the Mai Manó House was a reminder to me to let yourself wander down unknown streets and alleys. What started as a cool building turned a story that started more than a hundred years ago. If you're ever in Budapest, check it out!
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