Cabinets

I wanted to make a collection of photos of these display cabinets which are out on the streets in Budapest. They are permanent advertising spaces, and have so much more solidity and grandeur than posters or billboards. The old-fashioned window-cabinets intrigued me, not to go into the courtyard, where the shop advertising leads to, but as frames/containers as sculptural objects, maybe.

I am interested in the different glass, the wood or metal frame, the non-uniform shapes of the various cabinets. The matching pairs on either side of the doorway, the upkeep of some of them, the neglect of some. I walked past one of my favourite ones (a knitting shop advertisement, row 1 column. 1&2) and it was in the process of being changed by the new shopkeeper. The old knitted items were being replaced with balls of wool stacked high in the colours of the rainbow. I stopped and took another picture, and the owner started to talk to me. I explained that I was an art student and I tried to explain my fascination with the cabinets, their function, their ubiquity. It was difficult to explain, so I just said something about being interested in knitting (which is true), so she took me into the shop. She had come from New York, though her parents were Hungarian, and she had just taken over the running of the old wool shop. She was keen to promote Hungarian yarn, made using Hungarian wool, and also to promote knitting and contribute to and nurture the small knitting community in Budapest. I was in the little shop, and there was an old lady sitting on a chaise long, doing some knitting, with three or four other pieces of half started knitting beside her. The owner was also a knitwear designer, so i looked at some of her clothes, including knitted bikinis.

I felt like this was a treasure I had been led to, but unfortunately, it was wasted on me, as I just wanted to get back out on the street to look at more cabinets.