Op-ed: Traces of a distant homeland – The Hungarian imprint on New York City

New York is a palimpsest of migrant stories; some are shouted from monuments and church steeples, others sit quietly in windows, alleys and small cultural houses. For those looking for Hungarian traces in the city, the Greenwich Village–Upper East Side corridor offers a surprising itinerary: André Kertész’s famous window at 2 Fifth Avenue; the cobblestoned intimacy of Washington Mews; congregations and institutions on the Upper East Side; and a nationalist monument that still draws crowds every March 15. Below are the places, the short histories, and the practical details that make them storyworthy.

1. André Kertész – (2 Fifth Avenue)

Why it matters: André Kertész (1894–1985), the Hungarian-born photographer who helped define modern photo-language in Paris and New York, spent his later life at 2 Fifth Avenue, in an upper-floor apartment overlooking Washington Square Park. From that high, private vantage he produced his celebrated “From My Window” series — intimate, geometric views of the park and its passersby that crystallize the outsider’s gaze turned toward everyday city life. Kertész’s move into a 12th-floor flat in 1952 marked a decisive shift: the apartment became his studio and subject.

2. Washington Mews — a cobbled pocket of old Europe

Why it matters: Just north of Washington Square lies Washington Mews, a gated, cobblestoned lane that once housed carriage houses and later artists’ studios. Though the surviving documentary evidence of named Hungarian residents in the Mews is limited, the street’s character — small-scale, studio-filled, European in atmosphere — drew many émigré artists and students connected to NYU in the mid 20th century and functions scenographically in stories of Central European presence in the Village. For a feature about Hungarian cultural footprints, the Mews is an atmospheric link between Kertész’s window views and the studio culture of immigrant artists.

3. The Hungarian churches of the Upper East Side — community anchors

First Hungarian Reformed Church (Emery Roth)

Why it matters: The First Hungarian Reformed Church, at East 69th Street, was built in a deliberate “Hungarian vernacular” style and designed by Hungarian-born architect Emery Roth; it has long been a focal point for the city’s Hungarian Protestant community and stands as one of the few explicitly Hungarian ecclesiastical buildings in Manhattan. The church interior preserves folk ornamentation and a coffered ceiling painted with Hungarian motifs, reflecting immigrant efforts to recreate a familiar spiritual architecture in the New World.

4.  St. Stephen (Szent István) — Roman Catholic Church

Why it matters: The Church of St. Stephen of Hungary, often called Szent István, on East 82nd Street, served and still serves Hungarian Catholics; its presence alongside the Hungarian House and the American Hungarian Library helps complete a religious and cultural axis for the Hungarian diaspora on the Upper East Side. The parish’s records and community memory are a useful oral-history resource for any writer exploring midcentury Hungarian life in New York.

5. Hungarian House and the American Hungarian Library — civic memory at E 82nd

Why it matters: The Hungarian House of New York (officially: The American Foundation for Hungarian Literature and Education) and the American Hungarian Library & Historical Society at 213–215 E. 82nd Street have been central to preserving Hungarian-language books, newspapers, records and community programs in New York since the 1960s. For a feature piece, these institutions supply archival material, contacts for first-hand interviews, and photos of ephemera (programs, posters, immigration documents) that enrich any narrative about the community’s lived life.

6. Lajos (Louis) Kossuth Monument — a public pledge of memory on Riverside

Why it matters: The Lajos Kossuth Monument, on Riverside Drive at West 113th Street (Riverside Park), commemorates the Hungarian revolutionary leader Lajos (Louis) Kossuth (1802–1894) and stands as a tangible expression of Hungarian-American pride and transatlantic solidarity. The sculptural group, created by János Horvay (Horváy János) and unveiled in 1928 amid large public ceremonies, was funded by Hungarian-American donations and remains a locus for Hungarian national commemoration (notably March 15 observances). The statue’s scale and the 1928 dedication — attended by tens of thousands — underscore how visible Hungarian political memory once was in New York.