Fur Alma By Miklos Steinberg Work Guide

To stand before the original "Fur Alma" by Miklos Steinberg work (currently held in a private collection in Vienna, though a charcoal study resides at the Hungarian National Gallery) is to experience vertigo. Measuring approximately 81 x 65 cm (32 x 26 inches), it is an oil on canvas that vibrates with restrained chaos.

For the serious collector, locating a Fur Alma by Miklos Steinberg work is the equivalent of finding a Fabergé egg at a flea market. Fakes abound, primarily from Eastern Europe, which use cheap mink and laser-cut wood.

For years, “Fur Alma” was considered entirely lost. The only known 16mm print was believed to have been destroyed in a fire at a Viennese storage unit in 1983. However, in 2019, a Hungarian archivist named Bálint Szabó announced he had found a corroded reel in the basement of a former state film institute in Budapest, labeled simply: “Steinberg – Alma”.

Digitization attempts have failed. The reel is too brittle. What little footage could be salvaged amounts to 47 seconds of flickering, chemical-burn-scarred images — a woman’s hands knitting nothing, a flash of fur, a single frame of a rabbit’s eye.

So, for now, “Fur Alma” remains a ghost. A rumor. A nightmare that exists only in the testimony of the dead and the obsessive notes of a few scholars.

If you need to cite a real Steinberg work, these exist and are citable:

You can find his catalog via Editio Musica Budapest (EMB) or Hungarian Music Information Centre.

“Fur Alma” is not “good” in any conventional sense. It’s amateurish, grainy, and narratively incoherent. And yet, it strikes at something primal. Steinberg wasn’t interested in telling a story; he was interested in states of transformation. The knitting as an endless, Sisyphean task. The fur as a symbol of both comfort (warmth, skin, the maternal) and terror (taxidermy, death, the animal within). The act of wrapping the pelt around the head is an inversion of birth — not coming into the world, but retreating into a second, darker womb.

Critic Rott described the experience as “watching someone remember a dream they never actually had.” It evokes unheimlich — the uncanny — not through monsters or jumpscares, but through the slow, patient erosion of identity. Is the man in the rabbit mask becoming the woman? Is the fur consuming them? Or are they simply repeating a ritual that has no end?

Why should we care about a lost 12-minute experimental film from a failed Hungarian émigré? Because “Fur Alma” represents something the algorithm-driven, hyper-accessible modern world has forgotten: the power of the unverifiable. We are so used to everything being available on a screen that the idea of a work you cannot see — one that exists only in description and memory — becomes a kind of holy object. fur alma by miklos steinberg work

Miklós Steinberg died in obscurity in 1989, alone in a rented room in Lyon. He left behind no heirs, no manifesto, no final statement. But if the rumors are true, he left behind “Fur Alma” — a fur coat breathing in the rain, waiting for someone to remember.

Have you seen it? Do you know anyone who attended the 1962 Vienna installation? Or is this all just a beautifully constructed hoax? Let me know in the comments.

Remember me.

Further reading: “The Ephemeral Gaze: Lost Avant-Garde Cinema of Central Europe” (2015, out of print); “Miklós Steinberg: A Phantom Index” (Szabó, 2020, self-published).

The Story

The film "Fur Alma" (also known as "For Alma") tells the story of a Hungarian woman named Alma, who was a singer in a local church choir. After the fall of communism in Hungary, the country's economy struggled, and many people lost their jobs. Alma, a devoted wife and mother, found herself struggling to make ends meet.

The story takes a dramatic turn when Alma decides to take a drastic measure to provide for her family: she begins to sell her body to wealthy clients in order to make a living. The film's narrative is a powerful exploration of the moral dilemmas Alma faces, as she tries to balance her desire to do what is right with the harsh realities of her circumstances.

The Inspiration

Miklós Steinbeck, the director, was inspired to create "Fur Alma" after reading a newspaper article about a woman who had made similar sacrifices for her family. Steinbeck was moved by the story and decided to create a film that would explore the complexities of the situation and raise questions about morality, poverty, and the human condition. To stand before the original "Fur Alma" by

The Making of the Film

The film was shot on location in Hungary, using a mix of professional and non-professional actors. Steinbeck worked closely with his cast and crew to create a realistic and powerful portrayal of Alma's story. The film features a mix of drama, social realism, and elements of Hungarian folklore, which add to its unique atmosphere and emotional impact.

Reception and Impact

"Fur Alma" premiered at several international film festivals, including the Berlin International Film Festival, where it received critical acclaim. The film was praised for its thought-provoking narrative, strong performances, and Steinbeck's sensitive direction.

The film's success helped to raise awareness about the challenges faced by women in Hungary and around the world, who are forced to make difficult choices in order to provide for their families. "Fur Alma" also sparked important conversations about poverty, inequality, and the role of women in society.

Legacy

"Fur Alma" is considered one of Miklós Steinbeck's most important works, and it has cemented his reputation as a talented and socially conscious filmmaker. The film continues to be screened at film festivals and universities, where it is used as a tool for discussing important social issues.

The story of Alma and her struggles has resonated with audiences around the world, and "Fur Alma" remains a powerful and thought-provoking film that challenges viewers to confront the complexities of the human experience.

Before dissecting the "Fur Alma" by Miklos Steinberg work, it is essential to place the artist in his historical frame. Born in Budapest in 1888 (some sources cite 1884) to a Jewish family of modest means, Steinberg was a contemporary of Chaim Soutine and Amedeo Modigliani. He trained at the Hungarian University of Fine Arts before fleeing the rising tides of provincialism for the crucible of Paris—Montparnasse, circa 1910. You can find his catalog via Editio Musica

Unlike his peers who dabbled in pure Cubism or Fauvism, Steinberg developed a distinctly visceral style. His figures are elongated but not elegant; they are tortured, introspective, and swathed in thick, almost sculptural layers of oil. Critics of the time called his work "grotesque realism," but modern eyes see pre-Freudian psychological portraiture. Steinberg survived World War I in a volunteer ambulance unit, an experience that bleached his palette to grays, deep umbers, and the startling crimson of memory.

The interwar period (1920-1938) was his most fertile. During this time, he painted the series of "Fur Women" or Pelzfrauen—a thematic exploration of texture, identity, and the way clothing becomes a second skin. The "Fur Alma" by Miklos Steinberg work is the crowning achievement of this series.

MLA:

Steinberg, Miklós. Fur Alma. [Publisher], [Year].

Chicago (notes & bibliography):

Steinberg, Miklós. Fur Alma. [Place]: [Publisher], [Year].

APA:

Steinberg, M. (Year). Fur Alma [Musical score]. [Publisher].