Acropolis by Wypianski surpasses the three unites by Aristotle: the permanent place (we are in the great church of the castle of Wawel in Krakow) does not fix the time, action and characters who can jump from scene to scene that way.

The play has, besides its concrete time schedule (the actions take place on once passed Holi Saturday night between midnight and four o’clock) a mythical time too, outside history, which can give us an infinite experience, meanwhile (according to the writer’s instructions) we do not move outside the huge walls of the cathedral. It is really shocking, when the characters step out and speak out from their place (but not from their time) and they refer to the “real” place, to the bells of churches of Krakow, and to the River Vistula which is flowing by the hills of the castle. But what else can they do in this confused time and place: according to the writer’s imagination the animated art works – angels, antique gods formed to tombs or anonym sculptures start the line, then give the timeless (world)stage of the church to the characters of Troy from Iliad, then to biblical figures.

After the chain reaction of the first scene which is led by the angels, from the second one those characters appear on stage who are wearing the mark of chosenness on themselves: Hector, the escaping Jacob who has cheated his brother and father, finally King David go to the last battle. It is hard to find any other rational parallel between the scenes, but it is not impossible: all the vectors of the symbolic and esoteric refers, which are hidden in the text, point at Christ, between all possible Christs, at the lamb of the Book of Revelation, who “will open the Book”. The ghost story, which has been exiled into objective memories, can come into life like a magic in Wyspianski’s drama which is intentionally thick as an opera. The real main hero is the soul there who can fill the art works with life, as Hector who goes to the final battle tells it too in the second scene (Priam: “What makes you do it? / What a cursed idea you have?” Hector: “The soul...”)

Those who put this play on stage – after finding order between the writer’s creeping metaphor – have to find this wondering, prophet-like “soul” to be able to open the original depth of the drama. From now on I have to talk about two solutions, so about two performances: Sándor Zsótér, as we have got used to it, does not use any illustrations, and with pure tools creates “present tense” context with the actors of Maladype in the Fencing Hall of Bárka Theatre, the leader of the troupe, Zoltán Balázs offers a theatre of ceremony without any quotation marks. This later one is much closer to Wyspianski’s characteristic Slavonic ecstasy.

Zsótér extends the unsolvable duality of time with a third one: he shows the de-heroic and dishonoured half past during the first two scenes. Mária Ambrus composed into the middle of the Fencing Hall a stage around which there are seats. Besides the sculptures of tombs and the benches, which are placed towards the transparent altar, nothing is what it seems to be: the plans of the main walls are given by foldout books for children, while the walls of the crypt are drawn into the place by telephone books. A robust goods lift imitates the tower of church in the middle, which is the only “way” into the upside area, for example the first angel arrives with it to start the scale of resurrections – most of the performers are on different points of the place at the beginning. (The only rhyme between the two half parts can be the fact that Judit Gombár, who is Zoltán Balázs’ set designer, lets down from there the orange baldachin curtain of the second part.) The characters will disappear in the end, through the stairs going down from the place of the altar. Tempus, The Time leaves much earlier, who as there is not any gate, opens road to himself through the walls, so through the children books: in an interesting way from outside to inside, then downstairs. At the possibility of present would leak away together with him through the subtle walls from the stage: the other elements of the objective world, the electronic lightening artificial candles, the artificial flowers express the air of a passed trendy world which has already been forgotten, as well as the quotation of the bittersweet nostalgic song is, “The time stops”. Another blasphemous sign of time(less)ness is the old coffeemaker which splashes in slurping way when waking up is mentioned.

The characters as they are connected to more sculptures play literally souls, the bodies are doubled, we can see an irregular puppet theatre, where the mover leaves the moved one (his own original body) on its own, which is handled by another actor after it. (I need a long time to understand how I should watch this strange situation: Should I follow the actor or the sculpture, to whom and where I should connect the voice?) It is powerful anyway when sometimes the soul turns directly to its partner: “Who are you?” – asks one from the another once. It is a nice idea, that the sculptures are sometimes torsos, one of them has not got a head (Amor’s who belongs to Zoltán Oláh), other one has not got body (Artúr Kálid as Tempus), these are completed, filled with life by the actors – souls who belong to them later. In case of the allegorical figure who is played by Artúr Kálid, the head of the sculpture as it is held in his hands can be seen as a refer to Hamlet, to the unsettling time.

Zsótér’s thought is interpreted the strongest way by the dialogue between Clio (Éva Bakos) and the Girl (Nóra Parti): the muse of the story writing can get free in the hardest way from the real captivity of the words, while the others are having sex by the tombs. Anyway, we are captives of our books, objects, melodies and our nostalgia, we cannot even get closer to our own soul, not to the other people’s. The only possible way if we break through the wall, which the human means in his rational sense: in the final scene the Girl is knocking on the gallant’s scull, “are you still at home, or have left”, then similarly to the others, she invites the boy for a love act.

The girl and the boy’s scene ending happiness is questioned a lot, when the same actors (Ádám Tompa and Nóra Parti) come back as Paris and Helene in the second scene: Zsóter shows a relationship which is over its peak point a lot: the unhappy and “burnt out” couple, who were the causes of the war of Troy, are standing in front of us. Once Nóra Parti gets the plug of the electric artificial flower in her mouth, but of course, no light can flash up. This degraded state forms the base of the main line of the scene: Hector (Balázs Dévai) against all rational reasons (Achilles would give up this fight with him), forces the battle himself, in which he will die, and at that moment in the area of the catholic church the future begins: Hector and Priam’s good bye scene, the relation between the father and son, can be the prototype of the consciously accepted sacrifice, it can show us Jesus’ prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane. However, the composition of the area, the hero who is turning towards the altar behind him with the father who is saying goodbye from the highness of the lift, can be beautiful reference, Zsóter’ picture of soul remains artificial creature till the end, it is distilled product of laboratory, it cannot grab me for a moment. I think that this approach of direction is incompatible with Wyspianski’s sensual and ecstatic language.

In contrast with it, Zoltán Balázs has recognised the strange graceful logic of the play, the power, which neglects mostly the individuals’ acts, which the state of being chosen means. Jacob’s story, which comes to life from the Flemish wall tapestry, does not have any moral lessons, maybe one, that the chosen one can do hardly anything and hardly anything can be done with him: Jacob’s mother, after Rebeca’s urging, cheats her father and brother, gets the first born one’s privileges and the blessing with it, but then while she is escaping from her brother’s anger in Laban’s house, during her own wedding night, she becomes the victim of a conspiracy – her lover, under the covering of veil, makes love with the elder sister, Leah, instead of Rachel. The sins are not followed by punishment, during the closure of the scene, Esau’s anger does not end in reckoning, but in forgiveness which cleans Cain’s sin too. The edge of the rational mind becomes blunt because of The Almighty’s mercy: Jehovah orders the heroes of the story by dreams. The most important one is the vision, which the hero has by Betel, which according to Wyspianski is a real initiation to death. (Angels: “You get into life in flames. / You die during the day / You are walking in the shining float. / An axe hits your head. / Your death comes for you. / Come, get into life again, / Much power can help you.”)

Judit Gombár “dresses up” just the depth and the high of the place: upside on the place of the imaginary tower of church there is an orange cloth, it is strange, opened – in the middle there is a transparent point – and it gives a tent roof to the house, for which the laid multilayer carpets on the floor of the Fencing Hall, forms the world itself. The figures come down from this cloth not from the wall, anyway the Gothic stretchy dresses and their snake-like long sleeves are connected to it, as they are moving, swimming through the place: the drawing of the carpet forms the walls of a giant square, and along the diagonals between the tops. (The actors’ needs and intentions – as we have got used to it in case of other performances of Maladype – instead of the natural appearance, can be manifested on these roads with defined aim.) The cloth, which is a baldachin too, that covers the centre as well, forms an aura around the dreams that reflect the divine meanings of the actions, around the light bed of fights and loves, where sky and earth can become one in a mysterious amor sanctus. Meanwhile the important actions are in the intersection of the diagonals, under the baldachin, the divine light can select perfectly, and it spreads only in the emphasised moments, as it puts is transcendent third dimension to the plain shady world of the play that is happening on the carpet. Sometimes this light reaches the viewers too: they fire the candles which have been put to our chairs during the break, at the beginning of the ladder-scene, and the actors blow them away only after a long time, after the meeting of Rachel and the hero. (The flames appear again during the closure, but then they are the only light source of the place, as they coming down on a ball-shaped candlestick. Back, Matthew Passion is connected to it all which is played in. The performers must use it as a reference to The Almighty who arrives into the life on the Earth.)

The scale of scenes which is together with the ritual extension of light can make clear, that the condition of getting into the state of grace, into the divine situation – it is the whole self-revelation. That is why that during the ecstasy of the ladder scene Zoltán Balázs makes first Jacob (Kristóf Horváth) naked, then Rachel (Kamilla Fátyol) then later the Angel (Ádám Tompa), that is why actors roll up the carpets on the middle of the place of Earth, and then the whole troupe get dressed for this ceremonial state at the end of the scene – that way with the taking of any pieces, they emphasize the closed clothes that have covered their whole bodies, backward. According to the director’s interpretation sometimes even the elevated stylization of the play gets pure: Jacob has sex with Rachel in reality, the Angle really fights with him, so the performance can show up a higher, divine reality with the help of these real islands of actions that are put between symbolic actions. (The level of stylization is shown there by the original text and the situation itself: the fountain of Bethel, where Jacob has seen a dream can be identified with Rachel, and the Angel can rise the whole situation with the help of his higher status.) The peak point of the whole performance is Jacob’s ecstatic dance, who is turning around as a dervish while having bath in the lights of Apollo and Jehovah, which – as we can see it – will become the only long action of the fourth scene.

The director gives up all theatrical tools to give the clean stage to the only character of the last scene, to King David – after all to the exceptionally strong music, which was composed by László Sáry. Under the extreme shot, which is similar to a light of work, the members of the troupe sit around Szabolcs Hámori, who sings the role of the king, and to his scene long singing solo – with Kornél Mogyoró’s help – they give the sing and drum company. (Here the instruments, which were carried as jugs during the earlier scene get their real function.) As the bass singer’s upper body is naked at the beginning indicates that he stands clean in front of his God. Before he can start, the cloth from the sky comes down and the earlier baldachin surrounds his waist as a skirt. David is over his own story, he shares with us the inner ideas and doubts of the hour of death. His memories, which recons everything at the last, frozen moment of sense, which reflects his own story, now play again the movie of his life, while the final question as a refrain comes back again and again: “who am I?”. In the only action which is happening on the stage we can see Jacob’s dervish dance, but it is slowed down: the singer is turning around during his monologue, and the cloth, the corners of which are held by the actors, is gradually twisting on his body.

The actors not only with unbelievable humility but for me with unknown deep concentration make plastic the strict palace of rhythm of the composer, and to tell the truth, this team work, the visible feelers of the attention of the performers towards the soloist, can amaze me the most during the long time of the performance, which the troupe works along with unbelievable flow.

Next to actors, László Sáry’s well sing-able, archaic and modern phrases can form an arc during the performance, which becomes really elevated thanks for the drama per musica of the last scene. It is not by accident that I try to avoid the expression of “aria”: the melodies are more similar to Baroque monody than to authentic Hebrew cantillations, which emphasized the importance of the understanding of text during the heroic age of operas – melisma can give much sensitivity to dictions. That way King David’s passionate and personal song can become the shocking counterpart of the performers’ disciplined drum playing during Szabolcs Hámori’s inspired performance. The sounding cantus firmus of the canon of the choir intonates a coral from Matthew Passion, in that way from the Baroque heroic time of the Old Testament we get to the Saviour of the New Testament, musically too – the virtual closure of the performance also fulfils this process.

I can remember only an example from films if I want to find that eternal slowness, into which Zoltán Balázs and László Sáry’s theatre and music invite their viewers during the last scene – in Stalker by Tarkovsky the nearby pictures of the heroes’ face can evoke this pace. Obviously, the performance loses many of its viewers, but I hope, that those who it can win, will stay till the end along that narrow road on which the enchanted soul leads us – into the innermost room.

Gábor Pap, Criticai Lapok, 2006

(translated by : Veronika Fülöp)