Ilona Beatrice Polyák (Bea) has been running the Hungarian House in New York for almost a year and a half, but her connection to the institution and the City goes much deeper. She was born and raised in New York City, attended a Hungarian weekend nursery and school, was a Hungarian scout, and participated in Hungarian community events there. What’s more, she still lives very close to the building located in the heart of what used to be the old Hungarian neighborhood on the Upper East Side, so it was almost natural that she took over the management the Hungarian House last year—an institution owned by three Hungarian organizations that has seen difficult times, particularly in recent years. Her energetic and cheerful personality, practical and creative approach have brought new momentum to the House.

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You are a second-generation Hungarian American. Tell us about your family.

Our family’s story in America began in 1956. My grandfather, Vitéz Béla Juhász, spent six years as a prisoner of war in Belarus during and after World War II as he fell hostage in Ukraine. When he returned to Hungary, he got married and lived in Vésztő, a small town of approximately 5,000 people in Békés County. They had two children: my uncle Béla, born in 1952, and my mother Ilona, in 1955. In 1956, my grandfather was involved in what started as a peaceful protest led by railway workers (MÁV), but where a policeman was beaten. He wasn’t guilty of the accusations and had no intention of fleeing, but on 2 March 1957, he ultimately fled after learning he was to be arrested by the communist State Protection Authority (ÁVH) the next morning. A police secretary tipped off a neighbor, who warned my grandfather to flee immediately. Thus, my mother essentially grew up without her father from the age of two. Although family reunification was later possible under the communist Kádár regime, my grandmother never followed my grandfather, who waited for her in Belgium (near Mons) until 1960, working at a coal mine. This summer, my mother and I visited the area in Belgium where he had lived. My grandmother was afraid of the ÁVH and didn’t want to cross the border with two children, so she chose to stay in ‘safety’. My mother thus grew up in Hungary, but after finishing high school, she came to the U.S. to visit her father, who by then had started a new family—so I have a rather extended set of relatives…My grandfather lived and worked at 16 West 16th Street as a building superintendent until he retired. My mother stayed in the U.S. and worked as a flight attendant, first for PanAm, then for Delta Airlines, from where she recently retired.

My father is from Székesfehérvár, Hungary, and arrived in the U.S. in 1973, after spending two years in Austria, where he lived in a government-allocated flat with others rather than in a refugee camp, and worked as a painter and electrician. In New York City, he initially moved into a flat owned by the parents of Magda Farkas, who is a key supporter of the Hungarian House. He continued to work as a painter and electrician, first within the Hungarian community, then he became a handyman, then a building superintendent, and eventually a maintenance supervisor responsible for approximately 30 or so buildings at Glenwood Management. Early on, a locally well-known holocaust survivor, also from Fejér County in Hungary, Mr. Louis Gáti (born Lajos Goldenberg), employed him frequently through his connections at many property management companies. My parents met at a táncház (Hungarian folk dance gathering) held in the recently closed Hungarian Greek Catholic church within the local Hungarian community. They married soon after and had two children, my brother, István Timothy, and me. As my mother was often away due to her job as a flight attendant, I spent a lot of time with my grandparents. I often tagged along with my father and grandfather while they worked, which comes in very handy now, as part of my responsibility as the manager of the House is to maintain the building.

What was it like growing up in the old Hungarian neighborhood in the Yorkville section of the Upper East Side, where the Hungarian House still exists, even though the neighborhood itself is no longer Hungarian?

Even though we didn’t live right in the heart of the Hungarian neighborhood, we were very close by. I clearly remember that as a child, I didn’t understand why not everyone spoke Hungarian, because in this area, every third voice I heard was Hungarian. At the age of two, I started attending the Hungarian nursery at the nearby St. Stephen Hungarian Roman Catholic Church—that’s also where I was baptized. The Arany János Hungarian Nursery and School held its sessions in the church building back then, later moving to the Hungarian House after the church closed in 2015. The school never had its own premises, and has always operated at rented venues, just like the local Hungarian scout troop, which I attended from 1986 until 1997, up until the age of 18. I vividly remember my first overnight scout camp—I was only six years old, and it was a life-changing experience, especially for us, city kids. Although I never officially took folk dance lessons, my nursery instructor, Terike Mersitch—who, incidentally, lives in the same building block as I do, and whom I regularly visit—roped everyone in, so I performed at some Hungarian events, too. My American elementary school is three blocks away, and my middle school is just six blocks away from the Hungarian House. So yes, this is truly my neighborhood—as well as my American and Hungarian community.

Please shortly introduce the Hungarian House to us.

On 23 August 1963, five outstanding members of the Hungarian American community of their time established the American Foundation for Hungarian Literature and Education (AFHLE). Peter Schell, Ede Neumann de Végvár, Károly Pulvári, Ferenc Chorin, and Tibor Eckhardt, operating within the framework of the established Széchenyi István Society, the Hungarian Catholic League, and the American Hungarian Library and Historical Society, came together to create AFHLE, registered as a non-profit organization by the State of New York City on 16 April 1964. With the generous support of their founding members, the three organizations purchased the current building from the German athletic club Central Turnverein on E 82nd Street on 9 September 1966. Later, the Catholic League handed over its ownership rights to the local Hungarian Franciscans, who in turn passed it onto the Hungarian Scout Association in Exteris (KMCSSZ), which is the third co-owner organization.

The founders of AFHLE ensured the House would always stay in the hands of the community. The co-owners can only pass on ownership rights to organizations with similar objectives, and strictly with the consent of the other two co-owners. Further, if the Foundation were to be dissolved and the Hungarian House sold, none of the co-owners shall benefit from the proceeds, and the entire amount is to be offered to organizations engaged in Hungarian scientific and cultural activities. As one of the central community establishments of Hungarian immigrants in New York City, the Hungarian House has welcomed numerous leading personalities over the years. It was among these walls that József Antall, the first democratically elected Prime Minister of Hungary after the fall of Communism, greeted the Hungarian American community, as did Presidents Árpád Göncz and Pál Schmitt, Cardinal József Mindszenty, and also Member of the European Parliament Otto von Habsburg, nuclear physicist Edward Teller, Nobel laureate physicist Dénes Gábor, Cardinal Péter Erdő, President of the Hungarian Parliament László Kövér, and many others.

From the very beginning, thanks to the work of hundreds of generous supporters and volunteers, thousands of visitors could learn about aspects of Hungarian culture in the Hungarian House. Numerous lectures, concerts, film screenings, productions, folk dances, exhibitions, fairs, dinners, gatherings, and Hungarian and English language classes took place in these halls, all of them serving both the Hungarian immigrants and the host country. Times have changed since, and so have the visitors and supporters of the Hungarian House been renewed generation after generation. Today’s immigrants and visitors come from different backgrounds and have different needs than the Hungarians of the major immigration waves of the past. Yet the goal remains the same: to maintain Hungarian culture and acquaint American society with it. The Hungarian House is currently the only active Hungarian cultural center in New York City, and as such, one of the most important pillars of the local Hungarian community.

‘Yet the goal remains the same: to maintain Hungarian culture and acquaint American society with it’

The daily operations of the House are carried out by the House Committee, delegated by the three co-owner organizations, as well as the General Manager. We appreciate the support and volunteer work of all those who help with achieving our mission and value the preservation of Hungarian American culture and community life in New York, helping us to ensure that all Hungarian immigrants and temporary visitors can feel at home among our walls.

How did you become its General Manager? Did they approach you?

They didn’t approach me; they invited applications, and I applied. I had felt for several years that the institution needed a different kind of care. At times, I attended programs frequently and came to the conclusion that the Hungarian House deserved more—we should offer more of ourselves. I also found out that this wasn’t a full-time job—although that’s not really true, because in practice, there’s always something to be done. Beyond organizing programs, maintaining the sustainability of the House is constant work. Our non-profit organization survives on donations, rental contributions, and grants. I constantly monitor grant opportunities. We recently received one from the Bethlen Gábor Foundation (BGA), supported by the Hungarian government, for operating expenses, program development, and heritage preservation. To my great joy, we’ve also managed to win two local American grants. Shortly after I started here, I secured significant funding from the Christopher and Dana Reeve Foundation for a mobility device—unfortunately, it’s not optimal, since it can’t be permanently installed, only used on an as-needed basis, but people who previously couldn’t manage the steep stairs at the Hungarian House can now access the building. And our latest success is the Tulipán Foundation Artistic Ambassador Award, through which we’ll be organizing a weekend of events commemorating the 200th anniversary of Mór Jókai. This will feature the Csillagköd-képlet performance by the Ketten a versben (Two in Verse) duo, who already performed here last summer.

We constantly receive program proposals from Hungary—people offering to give various performances—so many that I don’t even know what to do with them: for now, I just save them, and when I need a specific contact, I can go back to this database. But we’ve only managed to invite a few so far, and overall, our budget is lower than needed to develop these proposed programs. What I really miss is the appearance of similar proposals from Hungarian Americans. There are performers of Hungarian descent here, too, and inviting them would be much more affordable. So my aim is not just to win grants from Hungary—I’m constantly looking into American grant opportunities as well. But these are much harder to win: the competition is fierce, many people apply, so the deadlines are often cut short, or they cancel the funding for budgetary reasons and publish an entirely new grant call. I’ve already had the unpleasant experience several times when, by the time I had developed my ideas and written the application, it had been closed, modified, or withdrawn. Most recently, for example, the Lisle International grant application proceeded this way, which was very disappointing because I had become quite emotionally invested in it. I had come up with a project—not the first of its kind in the world, I admit—to expand The Tragedy of Man by Imre Madách with new American chapters.

What do you mean when you say ‘we should offer more of ourselves’?

We should be reaching out more strongly towards the Hungarian American community. In the past, I felt that the programs primarily targeted Hungarian speakers. While I know that Hungarian folk dance is very popular even among those who don’t speak the language, it seemed to me that the Hungarian House, by focusing almost exclusively on that, ended up excluding Hungarian Americans who—and I’m sorry to say it, but it’s true—weren’t interested in folk dance and wouldn’t come to a single program of that sort. There are people who never cared for folk dance in Hungary either, and in the U.S., they’d be interested in something else—or at least, something additional. I often meet people who understand only half of any Hungarian text—when they come to a Hungarian event, they don’t leave with the feeling of having understood. I speak Hungarian well, and I’ve always been part of the Hungarian community, which has helped me both with the Hungarian House and in many areas of my life, but many Hungarian Americans either don’t speak the language at all or not well, because their parents didn’t think the investment was worth it—or simply couldn’t convince their children to learn. Today, we live in a different world; there are many ways to learn Hungarian, but even now, the energy invested doesn’t always pay off.

So you’d like to move beyond folk culture and offer more programs that aren’t exclusively in Hungarian. What has materialized out of these plans so far?

This year, we held our second fundraising Spring Sneakers Ball—last year with the Életfa band, this year with the Holdvilág band—which was my attempt to refresh and modernize the idea of folk dance. I don’t want to lose valuable Hungarian traditions; I just want to re-interpret them a little. At the same time, I want to open the door to older generations as well, who haven’t really been attending, like my former nursery teacher, Terike Mersitch. She was a folk dance instructor alongside Kálmán Magyar in the 1980s, who nowadays no longer dances due to age, but she’s always talking about how great those times were. To lure her back, I came up with the sneakers idea—they’re suitable for seniors and also appeal to young people. And for me, after a knee operation, they’re optimal, too. I believe sneakers may bring different groups and generations together. Last year, we aimed to collect 200 pairs of sneakers and ended up doubling that—in the end, I posted 400 pairs to the GotSneakers recycling program. Meanwhile, we helped families get rid of shoes they wanted out of their flats. Unfortunately, we hardly get any money for them, but it’s an environmentally friendly community building effort—the shoes aren’t going to landfill but will be recycled. Nevertheless, I haven’t yet decided whether we’ll continue and make it a tradition. It would be great to collect something that helps the environment and supports our budget—but I haven’t found anything better yet. I don’t want to deal with used clothing, and as far as I know, no one pays for used batteries either.

‘We aimed to collect 200 pairs of sneakers and ended up doubling that’

What other new things have you brought into the Hungarian House?

The concert by Itinera Band, held on 16 July, which can be considered a blending of Hungarian folk music into Hungarian electro-folk, is another example. But what really counts as new: I’ve brought in operas and operettas. Last year on Mother’s Day, Amore Opera made its debut here, performing pieces on the theme of motherhood by Hungarian (and not only Hungarian) composers. Amore Opera is a local New York City not-for-profit organization founded by Nathan Hull and some of the former performers and members of the Amato board of directors after the Amato Opera closed in 2009. Following in the footsteps of Amato Opera’s founders, Anthony and Sally Amato, Amore Opera works to continue their legacy of contribution to the arts and community for over 75 years. On New Year’s Eve, they returned to do a joint-fundraiser concert and gala dinner together with our Foundation.

Since then, we’ve been presented with another opportunity to collaborate with an American musical theatre not-for-profit foundation called Light Opera of New York, which has been operating for nearly 20 years. As more and more venues where small performance groups can afford to appear are closing down, I proposed organizing a program at the Hungarian House for them, on the condition that they also perform some Hungarian works, so programs remain aligned with our Foundation’s goals. They were delighted to accept the offer. In July, they started with a private event, Reprises and Reprisals, that previewed excerpts from She Loves Me—the American adaptation of Illatszertár. In October, they will repeat portions of this for our audience as part of a joint charity concert. If all goes well, we’ll continue working together on future musical programs.

I’d like to blend their repertoire with other genres and include Hungarian language content as well—for example, inviting a performer from Hungary to recite a few poems or sing a song alongside the English-language opera or operetta, so the American audience can experience that, too. Through these collaborations, I can bring in high-quality classical music programs that are developed by American financial support, but since Hungarian works are performed as well, we can attract a new audience—Hungarian Americans who have never attended Hungarian House events before. I also want to mix the two languages more deliberately, because for Hungarian Americans, it’s natural that words, cultures, and things are interwoven. It’s a normal part of immigration, especially for our generation.

Does that mean all programs will now be bilingual?

Of course, there will still be Hungarian-only events—not least because the Hungarian Consulate General and the Liszt Institute in New York occasionally host performers from Hungary at our venue. In May, for example, the Jókai Theatre from Békéscsaba performed Acquaintances and Strangers, about the accidental meeting of Mihály Munkácsy and Mór Jókai, and we also hosted the Karády Katalin tribute evening Don’t Ask Who I Was, followed most recently by Magda, the Szabó from Debrecen.

However, I no longer want to organize Hungarian film screenings without English subtitles, for example. And if we screen an English-language film on a Hungarian topic—which is quite rare—I’d like to add Hungarian subtitles. So, film screenings will definitely be bilingual in the future. I also want to offer theatre performances in two languages. For example, in January, we screened Ferenczi and Freud — Intrigues Around the Divan by Budapest’s Spinoza Theatre with English subtitles. More recently, during the Vaclav Havel Rehearsal for Truth Festival series held at Hungarian House, Stella Abel performed an English adaptation of Sándor Weöres’ Psyché twice in English and once in Hungarian. The latest book launch of Being Hungarian in America at the beginning of June was also bilingual, followed by a performance by the band Dűvő playing for an audience that didn’t speak Hungarian, to warm them up for the Hungarian Festival in New Brunswick, New Jersey, celebrating its 50th anniversary, which I’ve attended many times myself.

You’re also bringing changes in the field of visual art—more and more paintings or photos are appearing on the walls…

Because I can’t stand bare walls! (laughs) At the beginning of the summer, we displayed stylized flower-patterned paintings by Melissa Katkó-Pepin, director of the Hungarian Museum and American Hungarian Foundation in New Brunswick. After that came the exhibition Dancing Brushstrokes by Shosanna Kertész. In early June, along with the American Hungarian Library and Historical Society, we also hosted a ‘pHen’ workshop, where participants worked alongside three students from Moholy-Nagy University of Art and Design—winners of the 2024 BioDesign Challenge’s outstanding artistic award—who shared their perspectives through a unique, interactive session.

Summer tends to be a quieter period with fewer events, but from autumn, we’ll be back at full speed, starting with the school year opening. Both the Hungarian school and scout group still hold their major events at our venue. We didn’t have an Easter egg decorating session this year, but there was a 15 March commemoration, and there will be one for 23 October as well—last year we featured a monologue about Pál Maléter, this year’s plan is to be decided, and of course, Mikulás will also return. We don’t usually celebrate 20 August here—during the summer vacation, a lot of locals leave the City. By the way, I love being in Hungary for 20 August; the events are fantastic, but here it’s hard to gather people at that time.

Any other new plans for autumn?

Quite by chance, while tending to a stray blue jay that had wandered in, Ákos Rózsa from the István Széchenyi Society drew my attention to the Birdo bird photography competition and put me in touch with its founders in Hungary. We are now considering launching a joint amateur bird photography contest for the Hungarian American community in New York City. In addition, I’d like to organize a three-day Christmas–winter holiday Concert Music Series—it would be easier to apply for and arrange than financing three separate performers. I’ve already begun preparing for the 70th anniversary of the 1956 Revolution—I plan to apply for funding from the Tulipán Foundation, among others.

What’s your vision for the Hungarian House in the long term?

As a place of opportunity. In my opinion, any institution that survives beyond a certain number of years—in our case, 60—should look around and reassess its place in the world. The Hungarian House isn’t just an event hall that you can rent, and it’s not just a building used by the scout troop and school, or a home for folk dancers. It’s a place that can be filled with life and possibility. I’d like the Hungarian House to welcome even those who may have visited before, but didn’t feel it was for them. I don’t just want to celebrate Hungarian heritage in America; I want to somewhat shape its present and future.

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