I must exist as a parasite

On May 18, Maladype Theatre premiered Richard III, starring company leader Zoltán Balázs and directed by Sándor Zsótér. After a long hiatus, Zoltán Balázs returned to acting last year: since November, he has been performing Viktor Kravchenko's manifesto, which candidly reveals the true face of the Stalinist regime and the world of Soviet labour camps, under the title I Chose Freedom. We spoke with the actor-director during the final week of rehearsals before the premiere of Richard III about his latest role: what makes it interesting and how he will appear before audiences as the Duke of Gloucester - in 2016, in an apartment theatre, without a hump, a cane, or a limp.

In Maladype Theatre's latest production, I Chose Freedom, you stepped into Viktor Kravchenko's shoes: you directed yourself and stood alone on stage. In contrast, you are now preparing for the new premiere with your fellow actors, directed by Sándor Zsótér, in the role of Richard III. What is the rehearsal process like?

Just as I experienced the joy of paying attention to others, merging into events, and spontaneously dissolving into the moment as Hamlet under the direction of Tim Caroll years ago, I am now able to experience it again as Richard under the direction of Sándor Zsótér. In this directorial concept, intellectual modulation is light, playful, but requires a very precisely constructed and interpreted, well-timed "ensemble play", so that I can react calmly and openly to the impulses coming from my environment; I can reflect the intentions of the various characters in such a way that my attention, interest, and generosity are disconcerting to them. It is an incredibly exciting and complex game, and Sándor Zsótér is a great master of the game. During rehearsals, we focused primarily on the content of the text and the relationships between the characters, and only finalized the final coordinates of the performance in the last period.

Was this also the case when Sándor Zsótér previously directed at Maladype?

Not quite. Although Sándor always trusted the personal truth of the actors' imagination and playfulness, he already had a finished concept and score at the read-through, and he set the actors in motion with a system that he and his creative team had established in advance. The current rehearsal process is almost the complete opposite of this. Alongside the strong contours and directorial intentions, the actors' personal responsibility was also given a lot of space. I first worked with Sándor Zsótér as a third-year acting student at college in Hans Henny Jahn's The Coronation of Richard III. Then, as an apprentice actor, I appeared in his direction of Shakespeare's tragedy Timon of Athens at the Radnóti Theatre, and then as a member of the company in Schiller's play Mary Stuart at the Bárka Theatre, but I never performed in his productions at Maladype. I used to think it was important not to participate as an actor in my own company's productions, because I didn't think it was right. But so much has happened to us over the past 15 years, and so much has been reevaluated, that today it no longer causes me any concern.

One of the first Hungarian Shakespeare translations was made from Richard III, titled “Tongor, or The State of Komárom in the 8th Century”. Of course, there is a literary-historical explanation for the emergence of such adaptations, but we can consider this symbolic for a moment: Richard III is a source material that every age deems relevant regardless of time and place, and that transcends itself. How can an actor find Richard's human side?

According to literary historian István Géher: "The hero reflects the age. Richard is a scoundrel through and through, which means he is the only truly modern person in his environment. The world belongs to him..." Our performance tells the story of Richard III through Ede Szigligeti's 138-year-old translation. The company is taking an incredible risk by presenting Shakespeare "à la Szigligeti" today, as even István Vas's poetic translation from 1943 is enough to set off alarm bells for many theatre creators and audiences. The trend today is to stage contemporary texts or quickly retranslate all the classics so that young people who wander into theatres are not distracted by the abstraction of language when they try to immerse themselves in the flow of events or the "who's who." And Richard III is indeed a great and intricate Who's Who! Who is whose mother, grandmother, husband, bastard son or lover...! Sándor Zsótér and Júlia Ungár, dramaturg and translator, go against these canonized expectations and tendencies with their bold, firm, and "unmodern" decision to choose Ede Szigligeti's translation as the linguistic basis for acting and self-expression relevant to today's audience. Thanks to this, Szigligeti's translation has compelled us all to formulate our thoughts and intentions concretely and precisely, and to represent our goals flexibly and effortlessly, beyond the grammatical and articulatory complexity of convoluted sentences. It is a very concentrated and complex task, but it perfectly organizes and directs our thoughts and the shared attention of the actors and the audience. Philosophers, aestheticians, and literary historians have repeatedly written about Richard that the enjoyment of thinking is one of his most important—if not the most important! —characteristics. This intellectual game motivates me too; it is my most powerful task as an actor. Our Richard has no external or internal hump, and we do not use any medical aids to convince the audience that Richard's wickedness stems from his physical and mental defects caused by his premature birth or his disadvantageous situation resulting from his physical defects. His focus on others, his sharp mind, and his chameleon-like nature are his truly essential characteristics, and these are where the acting challenge lies. I have to exist as a parasite who, as part of Richard's pre-announced program, focuses on the current situation, task, and character, because he feeds on the previous mistakes and errors of his environment. In my interpretation, Richard functions as a kind of "solar panel" who only needs to illuminate the facts. Everyone in his environment has something to hide, and not just a little. None of them are saints. Exposing these petty games and characters is more than enough to justify a more modern, new way of thinking, on which Richard will stand or be placed as the new king.

Another recurring theme in Richard III performances is that his opponent, the seemingly positive hero Richmond, could become just another Richard if he comes to power. Sándor Zsótér solved the Richmond problem: in our performance, he does not appear in concrete physical reality.

There is no "mandatory" Fortinbras and Macduff: potentially good or bad rulers who will follow on the throne and, possibly, restore the time that is "out of joint." According to Sándor, there is no greater quality than Richard. He is a charismatic predator. The way he plans and executes his program is impressive. As an actor, it is not my job or my goal to make Richard likable, but the fact is that Shakespeare exposes the role in such a way that the audience is immediately privy to his plans through his opening monologue and immediately becomes his accomplice. Sándor has not burdened me with the general wickedness and scheming associated with the role, so I can induce different channels of communication and points of contact during the play. My ability to persuade and convince is the main safeguard for advancing through the character of Richard. I don't have to practice the art of deception in a flattering, hypocritical, or Tartuffe-like way: in fact, in our performance, I sometimes take a poetic approach.

Will the audience be close to the actors, as is usually the case at Maladype? What effect can be achieved by having Richard deliver his first monologue in such an environment?

In this small space, it is impossible and pointless to lie. Every millimetre counts, as does the directness, conciseness, and clarity of the wording. It depends on who you are talking to and how you are talking to them, as well as what exactly you want to achieve with your words. Direct and indirect dialogue carries great weight in such a small space. To stick with my solar panel example, it matters a great deal which way the panel is facing.

Am I right in thinking that preparing for this role is a joy?

Absolutely. I love rehearsing and working with the material provided by the author and director so much that it doesn't really matter whether it's on a normal rehearsal day, at the premiere, or at the next performance that I make a new discovery. Every occasion is an opportunity to rehearse. I am interested in what makes it possible to express more "essentially" what Sándor and I have defined together during rehearsals in relation to Richard's role. Entire scenes can be determined by such small details as where I "start" or "jump from" in a given situation. I mustn't push myself too hard, but I mustn't fall behind either! Economical acting – I think.

The performance features actors outside of Maladype Theatre. What is it like working with your partners?

In addition to Maladype's permanent actors—Kata Huszárik, Ágota Szilágyi, Erika Tankó, and Zsigmond Bödők—six wonderful guest artists also perform in the production: József Kádas and Márton Pallag from the Forte Company, Zoltán Friedenthal from the Pintér Béla Company, Balázs Fila from the József Attila Theatre, as well as Sándor Márkus and Péter Pál Szűcs, freelance actors. They have all worked with Sándor Zsótér before. I believe that the actors working together in this performance understand the "Zsótér way of thinking," that there is no need to go through unnecessary formalities with them, that they are willing to take risks and overcome all kinds of obstacles, and that it is possible to talk about the essentials with them. I find it fascinating how powerful and personal these guys, who have already proven themselves in countless leading roles, can be in these rapidly changing and difficult scenes. It is also very liberating that we don't have to take ourselves too seriously. Irony, playfulness, and humour were not absent from the rehearsals or the performance. As the audience has come to expect, Sándor Zsótér's regular creative team, dramaturg and translator Júlia Ungár, set designer Mária Ambrus, and costume designer Mari Benedek have once again created a special and unique world.

You recently staged a play in America that was a huge success: critics recommended seeing your production. What memories did you bring home with you?

I really enjoyed my time in America. I was in Chicago for two months and ten days. I directed Matei Visniec's play “How to Explain the History of Communism to Mental Patients”, and its success was due not only to the fact that the cast was highly motivated and we understood each other perfectly with the entire creative team: the set and costume designers, and the composer, but Donald Trump and his current scandals also contributed greatly. Through his "operations," many things became clear to American audiences when they had to decode the Stalinist absurdity that we already know so well. I think the play was presented at the right time and in the right place. The Trap Door Theatre, where I directed the play, is highly regarded in professional circles and is a meeting place for contemporary, avant-garde works, authors, and directors. It is a huge deal for an actor to be invited to participate in a production at this theatre with a 20-year history. This is especially understandable and appreciable to us when we realize that in Chicago and across America, there is no guarantee that an actor who has been cast in one production will be cast in the next. Even if they do, they cannot know how successful the production will be and what consequences it will have for their own career and development as an actor. There are very few permanent companies there; in Chicago there are perhaps three. Actors are mostly hired for specific projects and productions, which are preceded by very serious casting calls. They compete with hundreds of others for each role, and if they get it, they focus all their energy on it, even if they have to work in a restaurant or an office during the day. There are very few places where acting is a salaried job!

Hungarian actors can be happy because, regardless of whether they are part of a company or not, they usually know their season in advance: who they will be working with, how much they will be earning, and they can focus all their energy on rehearsals and performances! In the US, an actor can devote a maximum of six hours a day to diving into their current task after work. Perhaps the strangest custom of the theatre system there—which I previously thought only existed in movies—is that everything depends on the opinion of a seven-member team of critics who watch the performance and decide together by 9 a.m. the next morning whether or not to recommend it. There are 270 theatres in Chicago: this seven-member committee attends every performance, and the fate of every production depends on their opinion. If they do not recommend the performance, the theatre will perform it a maximum of two times for friends and relatives, and then it will be shelved. If they do recommend it, the number of planned performances increases, everyone who matters sees it, and it is nominated for awards. Thank God, in our case, the latter happened, and in light of this, I am very happy that the work we put in has brought such results and success. The American theatre market has very special rules. There is a lot at stake.

But even so, would you be able to imagine living there?

Yes, because not only in the theatre, but all over America, the answer to everything is: No problem! Meaning: it's okay, we'll figure it out, we'll solve it, we'll do it, we'll think about it, and we'll find the solution! In restaurants, they always check to see if my glass is empty and are happy to refill it. Not because they have to, but because it's natural for them, an organic part of hospitality. I could go on and on listing everyday gestures and small attentions that promote people's well-being. I could live in America.

You also presented your one-man-show, I Chose Freedom, which could be considered an indictment of Stalinism, in Washington. What was the response like?

Performing Viktor Kravchenko's story in Washington to a large number of Hungarian dissidents was very moving. The silence, the attention, the dense, intense energy with which the audience followed and experienced the performance was amazing. I had a similar experience recently at the National Theatre in Miskolc. I am impressed that audiences in 2016 come to see this "something," because I don't know exactly what genre it is, and they listen to the political and private life of a Soviet official in my presentation for nearly 140 minutes. If I had to classify it in terms of genre, I would call it a manifesto, because I think that when an actor talks about a topic that deals with the past, especially when he does so with the motivation and personal attitude that I have in the performance "I chose freedom," it would be a bit like walking through quiet streets at night with a megaphone, waking people from their peaceful sleep in their homes and rousing them from their dreams so that they can hear about the dangers of history repeating itself and, if possible, never again commit the same tragic mistakes that have already been made. At the Kravchenko performance, people sit and listen attentively to another person talking about a third person, with whom the performer identifies, guiding the audience step by step. There are no special effects! There are no sets, I don't change clothes every minute, I don't stick on a moustache, yet it captivates people. Then, after two and a half hours, they ask, "Is that all? We could have listened to it longer!" Isn't that crazy today, when most theatregoers expect to be dazzled with all kinds of effects and tricks? The human word still has value after all! This is why Richard is so interesting too: he knows exactly how to speak, to whom and what to say.

Are the plans for the next season already in place?

After the premiere of Richard III, rehearsals will begin for Dada Cabaret, also written by Matei Visniec. This production will be presented in the fall at the Átrium Film Theatre in a co-production with Gábor Farkas and his band. After the Budapest premiere, it will be staged in collaboration with international partners at various renowned theatres, integrating local actors into the production; for example, in early November at the Odeon Theatre in Bucharest. Next year, we would like to continue working with guest directors, whom we will try to pay from the reduced budget that is "graciously" allocated to us each year. Since it is impossible to cover our daily operations and artistic plans from this amount of funding, the usual annual strategic game follows: where and from whom can we obtain additional income and support? In the summer we perform at festivals, followed by co-productions later on. There can be no talk of expansion this year either; the goal is to stay alive.

But the main thing is...

...that we're still here. (laughs)

...that you have enthusiasm and determination.

I have always had enthusiasm. I will not become bitter and hateful, nor will I become cynical. That does not mean I am blind; I can see exactly what is going on around us and how. That said, I think people can best fall back on what is inside them: a sense of belonging, good company, and a sense of humour. If you have these three things, they are a powerful driving force. Richard III also has the ability to make me sensitive to things that I was not previously sensitive or open to, or only partially so. It reawakens areas of my attention that had become dulled over time or that I had forgotten about. For example, that you don't have to want to lead; you have to let things "lead" themselves.

Annamária Verasztó, origo.hu, 2016

Translated by Lena Megyeri