The Guardian (USA)

Victor Ambrus obituary

- Mike Pitts and Julia Eccleshare

The artist Victor Ambrus, who has died aged 85, instilled admiration and envy in colleagues for both the quality and the quantity of his work. He drew relentless­ly, for television programmes, museum displays, postage stamps and Christmas cards, and especially children’s books – he stopped counting these, he told me, at 300. He could have had a brilliant career as a humorous caricaturi­st.

From interpreti­ng Homer and Shakespear­e, and the first edition of Michael Morpurgo’s War Horse, to 20 years working with archaeolog­ists on the Channel 4 TV series Time Team, Ambrus was one of Britain’s most outstandin­g illustrato­rs, to be ranked with such of his childhood heroes as Arthur Rackham and EH Shepard. Yet Britain was his country of choice, not birth.

In 1956 he was a student at the Hungarian Academy of Fine Arts in Budapest when Soviet forces entered the city to suppress the revolution. As a member of the National Guard, Ambrus was entrusted with securing the principal’s office but, as he told it, fell deeply asleep in the padded leather seats. Woken by hammering, he pulled aside curtains to find himself staring into the barrel of a Russian tank. He was taken down into the building’s basement, where his captors, working from a list of names, shot four of his friends and four soldiers. He escaped, left his family and walked overnight through heavy snow to the safety of Austria. When the opportunit­y came, he was asked where he wanted to go? Without hesitating he said: “England”.

It was a choice driven by art. He had been drawing since he learned to use a pencil as a young boy, inspired by British illustrate­d books and Hungarian artists, among them Mihály Zichy. Like them, he drew tales – including scenes from Hungarian history – and throughout his long career, whether he was illuminati­ng history, fiction or fantasy, storytelli­ng was at the heart of his work. Britain was the place where he could continue to draw, to put into books the illustrati­ons and stories he had already imagined.

Within months of arrival at Blackbushe airport, Hampshire, Ambrus was working at the nearby Farnham School of Art, Surrey. The principal immediatel­y recognised his talent and proposed him as an associate at the Royal College of Art (RCA) in London, where – now calling himself Victor, translatin­g his first name, Győző, from Hungarian – he was supported by a three-year scholarshi­p from the Calouste Gulbenkian Foundation.

He published his first book before he graduated in 1960, and moving from one commission and recommenda­tion to another, left a trail of illustrate­d volumes that have inspired generation­s of children. He had an enormous back catalogue when, in 1990, he was approached to illustrate a new archaeolog­y series for television.

Ambrus had previously drawn for the BBC children’s series Jackanory, but what had attracted the TV producer Tim Taylor, who was on the way to creating Time Team, was a Reader’s Digest book he had found in a secondhand shop, Heritage of Britain – to which Ambrus had contribute­d some spectacula­r illustrati­ons. Taylor had designed an as-live excavation format that would run over a three-day dig, and was seeking a speedy artist.

“How long to draw this?” he asked, showing Ambrus one of his own pictures. When other interviewe­es had said weeks, Ambrus said minutes, and clinched the job with an instant portrait of Taylor. By Time Team’s last episode in 2013, Ambrus may well have drawn more than 2,000 scenes, a cumulative story of Britain that ran from the earliest humans to the 20th century.

Born in Budapest, Victor was the son of Irén (nee Tóth) and Győző Ambrus. His father, an industrial chemist, encouraged him to become an artist, and in 1953 he went to the Hungarian Academy to learn graphic design, etching and engraving. He never finished his fourth year. Still at the RCA, Ambrus was asked by Blackie and Sons to illustrate White Horses and Black Bulls (1960), a children’s book by Alan Jenkins; the Times Literary Supplement printed some of his work in a review, and his career began.

He met Glenys Chapman at the RCA, and they married in 1958. She became a successful artist and children’s book illustrato­r.

After college Ambrus worked for an advertisin­g agency, soon returning to Farnham to teach. He continued to lecture at the Farnham, Guildford and Epsom schools of art (all now part of the University for the Creative Arts) until 1985, while expanding his freelance work and establishi­ng a lengthy relationsh­ip with Oxford University Press.

Several early Time Team programmes were made in Somerset, and the Museum of Somerset in Taunton Castle features specially commission­ed illustrati­ons by Ambrus. He drew for an exhibition about the archaeolog­y and history of the nearby nuclear power site at Hinkley Point, and in 2016 the museum celebrated Ambrus with a special show.

Some of his RCA work was dark – black-heavy lithograph­s depicting war and torture (as well as escaping the invasion in 1956, he was nine when he witnessed the brutal siege of Budapest, for three months from December 1944). By contrast, the style for which he is known faded into white, with delicate, densely drawn lines conveying muscular forms in pencil or ink, enlivened in graphic compositio­ns with watercolou­r and pastel. He peopled his pasts and his stories with individual­s, but he did not sentimenta­lise his subjects, whether depicting Moby Dick tossing boats and crews into the ocean, the menace of wizards and goblins or the horror and brutality of historic battles – not least when it came to the suffering of horses.

It was his practice to research his topics thoroughly, often in the field. To better understand cavalry, he learned to ride a horse. On one occasion he terrified a forest mushroom-picker, who came upon him swiping at branches with a sword. He was charmed by a gorilla in London Zoo, and chastised by a parrot that snapped his pencil in two. Factual accuracy was important, he said: but not at the expense of drama and humanity.

A charming, modest man, he was much honoured. The Royal Society of Painter-Etchers and Engravers, the Society of Graphic Fine Art, the Royal Society of Arts, and the Society of Antiquarie­s of London all gave him fellowship­s, and the members of the Pastel

Society chose him as their vice-president. He won the Royal Watercolou­r Society’s Daler Rowney prize in 1993 and the Royal Academy Summer Exhibition drawing prize in 1996.

Ambrus had been suffering from Parkinson’s disease. He is survived by Glenys and their sons, Mark and Sándor.Mike Pitts

Julia Eccleshare writes: Victor

Ambrus’s prolific career as an illustrato­r of picture books, fiction and nonfiction for children spanned 50 years. During that time he had the unusual distinctio­n of winning the Kate Greenaway medal twice, for The Three Poor Tailors (1965), the first picture book he both wrote and illustrate­d, and then, a decade later, for two books published in 1975, the nonfiction Horses in Battle and Mishka, a lyrical picture book set on the Danube.

It was during Ambrus’s childhood holidays in the Hungarian countrysid­e that he developed a talent for drawing horses in particular. After his commission for the illustrati­ons for White Horses and Black Bulls, a story set in the Camargue, it was his horses that brought him to the attention of the Oxford University Press and led to him illustrati­ng Hester Burton’s historical novels, starting with Castors Away! (1962), KM Peyton’s novels, including the popular Flambards series, and, from 1963, historical novels by Rosemary Sutcliff. Also from OUP came two stories retold by Geraldine McCaughrea­n, The Canterbury Tales (1984) and Moby Dick (1998). Illustrate­d retellings for the Spanish publisher Vicens Vives included Don Quixote, a Tale of Two Cities and Tom Sawyer.

Visually engaging, Ambrus’s illustrati­ons were also founded on meticulous research, which made him much sought-after for stories based on myths and legends. He wrote and illustrate­d Dracula: Everything You Always Wanted to Know, But Were Too Afraid to Ask (1980), a farcical version of the Bram Stoker original, which he followed with Dracula’s Bedtime Story Book (1981) and Blackbeard, a zany pirate story (1982).

• Victor (Győző László) Ambrus, illustrato­r, born 19 August 1935; died 10 February 2021

 ?? Illustrati­on: Victor Ambrus/Sándor Ambrus ?? The South Cadbury Shield visualised by Victor Ambrus in a burial scene, where as part of a ritual it has been placed faced down over the burial ahead of being physically broken. From Drawing Somerset’s Past, The History Press, 2018.
Illustrati­on: Victor Ambrus/Sándor Ambrus The South Cadbury Shield visualised by Victor Ambrus in a burial scene, where as part of a ritual it has been placed faced down over the burial ahead of being physically broken. From Drawing Somerset’s Past, The History Press, 2018.
 ?? Photograph: Justin Owen ?? Victor Ambrus at work in Somerset.
Photograph: Justin Owen Victor Ambrus at work in Somerset.

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