How long have you lived here?
Since 2009. I usually don’t remember dates, but this one stands out because I created my diploma project here: a large textile sculpture that resembled a map-body made of roots. I stitched it while hanging it from the window handles, and as I worked, it slowly engulfed the entire window.
Every corner of your home is filled with unusual and exciting details, especially when it comes to the built-ins and furniture. Which space or corner do you love the most?
When I first moved in, we didn’t change the floor plan—just did a basic renovation. Then, about two years ago, when our daughter was born, we had to reorganize the space, as there hadn’t been a separate room before. My husband, József Konrád (architect and interior designer — Bunkerdolphin studio), redesigned the apartment in a practical yet detail-conscious way.
One of my absolute favorites is the built-in plywood wardrobe that also houses an eclectic vintage piece—a wardrobe originally from a young girl’s room in the early 20th century. My father gave it to me when I moved in, and I really wanted to preserve it. Due to limited wall space, it wouldn’t have fit on its own, but this way, we managed to give it a new context and keep it.
What materials and colors do you love most, and why?
Honestly, I’m not attached to one specific material—I’m happy to live with almost anything, be it wood, plastic, or metal. That said, I really like the contrast between matte painted wood and glossy glass. That’s probably why we have so many display cabinets and vitrines. I also enjoy their shape—they remind me of dioramas. As for colors, I’m drawn to bold choices. Pink and yellow are my favorites: pink feels intimate and personal, while yellow gives me energy.
How would you describe your home in three words?
Chaos, humor, experimentation.
Your space is filled with objects in what appears to be an eclectic style, and you clearly have an eye for unusual shapes. Do you have any guiding principles for what makes it into your home collection? What makes something a “must-have”?
Our home and object collection has evolved very organically—most of the pieces come from flea markets. There’s no strict guiding principle, but I’m definitely drawn to the unique and unconventional, especially non-mass-produced pieces. I’m also very fond of the naive, figurative folk art of different cultures—there’s often a kind of disproportionality, humor, or instinctive freedom in those works that I really love. For example, we have three wooden animal-shaped benches from Indonesia that look like caricatured, funny animal characters.
I’m also drawn to bizarre forms—grotesque objects or those that resemble body parts. In the hallway, there’s a "monster-eye" lamp from Szarvas, and I adore the hand-shaped ceramic lamps by Árpád Világhy from the ’90s. I’d also include Rozália Hetey-Bakó’s studio ceramics designed for Hollóháza—their shapes remind me of sci-fi movie sets from the ’80s and ’90s.
Sometimes I play around with more curated compositions. In the bedroom, for instance, there’s a visual motif around the circle. It all started with a round shelf we found at the Devecser flea market. Years later, we stumbled upon a 1970s West German circular bed, which now pairs with a fan-shaped painting by Botond Keresztesi that’s essentially a half-circle. These pieces began a kind of visual dialogue, which we later completed with a “steering wheel” sculpture by Belgian artist Tom Volkaert, acquired after a joint exhibition. The whole motif got an absurd finale when we added a vintage eyeball model to the shelf—suddenly, all the circles condensed into a single sphere.
How would you summarize your decorative taste in one word?
Eclectic.
What personal object holds the most emotional value for you, and what’s its story?
My daughter Rózi’s dirty sock. One day, not long after she learned to walk, she ran out into the garden without shoes. The sole of her sock perfectly captured the imprint of her little foot. I kept it and plan to have it framed someday.
What’s the strangest object you own?
There are several, but one I really love is an Inuit carving made of fossilized whale bone. It depicts a face with another face inside its mouth—symbolizing the inner self, though to me it also suggests a kind of self-devouring gesture.
Another odd piece I adore is a parrotfish embedded in resin from 1972—a souvenir from Dubrovnik. It holds a prominent spot in our bathroom. Among kitchen objects, one of my favorites is a 1987 Fitz and Floyd teapot built around the King Kong story.
What’s the first object you remember being deeply affected by — and why?
It’s hard to pinpoint, but one object I loved as a child was a Bols Ballerina Brandy bottle from the ’50s or ’60s. It sat on a shelf in my grandparents’ colonial cabinet for as long as I can remember. When you wound it up, the Blue Danube Waltz would play, and a tiny ballerina inside would spin. My grandparents have since passed, but I still have the bottle. The liquid has darkened over time, and the dancer is barely visible now, but I treasure it.
Is there an object that has influenced your art?
I have a small collection of anatomical models—both human and botanical. They interest me not just as study tools but also visually, in terms of form and color. I’m especially drawn to stylized representations of internal structures in nature—they feel very close to my own sensibility.
Another example is a small beaded stool from the Bamileke tribe in Africa. Its surface has a checkered pattern made entirely of tiny beads. I don’t know if it directly inspired any of my work, but I love the visual connections I can draw between it and my own practice—especially the pattern-based, fragmentary construction, which mirrors how I build my own pieces.
Why did you choose the Point Chair from The Neat Studios? What drew you to it?
First of all, I love Italian furniture from the ’70s and ’80s—it’s playful and functional at once, often walking the line between design and fine art. The use of mixed materials (metal, leather, upholstery) in this chair really resonates with me as a maker. I especially love the quirky little steel ball on the backrest that holds the leather arm in place. Plus, the model was introduced in 1985—the year I was born.