Miklós did not consider himself to be a collector in the newer sense, that is as an investor. It’s not that he didn’t buy art. He certainly did so, though mostly in order to support artists in need of help whose work he liked – and this is indeed what he did in the case of „Jaki” (József Jakovits), the Hungarian Surrealist living in New York. He bought, rather, what he liked, what he felt close to, and not whatever was trendy or in the ascendant. Neither of these factors interested him in the least. Upon meeting a (to him) new artist in Hungary, he would acquire – either through purchase or gift – one or more of their works, thereby cementing his new contact. His apartment, the „Hotel Muller,” is wallpapered with excellent paintings and populated by sculptures, while works on paper are stored in profusion in the professional-grade flat files.
It is in this milieu that conversations between host and guest take place, mostly in the morning hours, as Miklós is early to bed and early to rise. He guarantees absolute independence for his guests, but the intellectual seances are, against the backdrop of the pictures, sculptures and enormous specialized library, an indispensable ritual at the Hotel Müller. His library is so rich that one never has to bring any reading material along; it could easily function as a lending library on Hungarian art history.

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