In the more than ten years since Zoltán Balázs founded the Maladype Theatre, the company has gained a strong reputation not only in Hungary but also abroad, with its special, groundbreaking, and often improvisational theatrical experiments. In the new season, in addition to several domestic premieres, they will tour "half the world" and organize numerous events. The artistic director and director talks about why they perform less in Hungary, which core pillars show a company's value, and what is missing in Hungarian culture.

- I assume that all these foreign invitations didn’t just fall into your lap.

- It’s the result of several years of work, ongoing consultations with producers and theatre partners, which led to co-production offers and festival invitations. Currently, we have a repertoire of 9 productions, and nearly every performance travels—next, we’re touring India with Egg(s)Hell. After India, we’ll be heading to Iran, followed by a larger American tour. Meanwhile, we’re preparing an unconventional production of The Master and Margarita in co-production with the Radu Stanca National Theatre in Sibiu, on its main stage. I’m directing two performances that build on subtle differences, which will be an exciting challenge for me and for the actors of both companies...

- And between all these travels, you also have several premieres planned in Hungary.

- In mid-November, we had the double premiere of Don Carlos and Egmont. These two performances balance on the edge of very different ways of thinking and worldviews. After that, we start the rehearsal period in Sibiu, with a premiere scheduled for February, then after a few performances, we’ll return home and start working on Don Juan with Sanyi Zsótér. However, we won’t be home for long, because we’ll be attending festivals, and we also need to somehow generate the income to sustain our operations for the year...

- Has the idea of working in a hosting theatre ever come up?

- We’ve done that before and have new invitations as well, but based on various experiences, I think it’s not worth moving into another building temporarily in Hungary, especially if we have a permanent performance space and are constantly on the move. Instead, I prefer the unexpected spaces/conditions of foreign hosting venues or the Radu Stanca main stage. Aside from the variety, this offers a much more financially stable opportunity. A company is only as valuable as how much it travels, how strong and varied its intellectual condition is, and how close its relationship is with the audience. Continuous training and development of these three core pillars is the reason why Maladype has become a "traveling theatre" over the years.

- There will be several regular programs at the Maladype Base in Budapest in addition to the performances.

- The highly successful Free Academy continues, as well as the "Crossroads" series of foreign guest performances. The Base program’s repertoire will also expand with István Orosz’s visual art series and the Maladype Film Club, presented by Attila Janisch. The Carlos Affair has received special attention at the Classroom Review, and it is a key project in our educational programs in close collaboration with schools and universities. In our reading theatre series, in a scenized form, Maladype’s actors will present works by contemporary foreign authors. I’m directing the first play, Theatre of the Absurd by Matei Visniec, and the other three will be directed by guest directors.

- You have a very good relationship with your regular audience.

- So much so that this summer, they volunteered to renovate the Base. It’s wonderful to feel the people’s loyalty and affection, but no matter how full the theatre is, it can’t sustain a company’s operations and planning. It would be better if we didn’t have to worry every day about how we’re going to survive, but could focus on how the company can be more progressive and efficient in everything it has consciously been searching for and exploring over the years. I wish I could guarantee the return on our work every day, for the actors and for the audience. But how and with what, when we still don’t know if we’ll even receive the necessary funding for our operations? Like the other independent theatres, we didn’t even receive our operating grants by mid-November!

- What’s your experience abroad?

- As strange as it may sound, there are still places where patrons are involved in the lives of significant creative workshops and artists because they understand that quality, diplomatic tasks, and convertible culture are areas that return the invested capital. There are difficult situations abroad too, but somehow, the protection of cultural values is more widely integrated across the entire field of culture, so art cannot easily become prey to political games. In these places, it’s unquestionable that culture and education are long-term, sustainable investments.

- Don Carlos, like several of your previous performances, can also be seen as a political reflection.

- Eventually, reality catches up with theatre, as is the case with Don Carlos or King Ubu. The key is to maintain playfulness, the creative and lively nature of the spirit, and not take ourselves too seriously. Krzysztof Warlikowski said about Macbeth: “When ambition pushes human pain aside, lying begins.” Human pain is a part of our everyday lives, and we need to know how to speak about it, give space for self-expression, and bring to light everything that others remain silent about. This is something that is sorely missing today, and the greater its absence, the easier it is to manipulate and dumb down people. And I don’t want to live in a manipulated world.

Krisztina Szepesi, Pesti Műsor, 2012

Translation by Zsuzsanna Juraszek

- It seems to me that over the past decade, you have intentionally shaped the program, artistic concept, and your own career at the Maladype Theatre, having a clear vision of where you wanted to go. It's as though you embarked on a staircase, where each step had to be reached to arrive at the highest level. Is high awareness truly a characteristic of yours, or is it just the impression I get as an outside observer?

- I see it similarly, with the difference that when we started (my career preceded the debut of Maladype), we didn’t have the awareness. The team, which didn’t even have a name back then, experienced the encounter as an uninhibited adventure. After the success of our first work, Jack or the Submission, we found the name "Maladype."

"Maladype" is a Romani (Luri) word meaning "encounter."

- It precisely expresses the experience that brought us together and connected us through our shared playing. Our next performance, The School for Fools, was already performed under the name "Maladype Troupe" and was also successful. From there, the process could not be stopped—it was a story that wrote itself. From the coincidences and adventures, a more and more conscious theatrical thought emerged. I couldn't ignore the fact that the role of leader/guide increasingly demanded a more responsible attitude from me. Over time, as The Blacks was completed, more and more people joined us—civilians, critics, theatre people—who were watching our activities with growing interest. We couldn’t ignore the demands that came with this, which required more, more sophisticated, and unexpected things from the troupe.

- Is this connected to why you chose only works that did not fit, or barely fit, into the Hungarian theatrical tradition for a long time? I’m thinking of authors like Ionesco, Ghelderode, Genet, as well as Sándor Weöres’s Theomachia, Hölderlin’s Empedocles, or Wyspiański’s The Acropolis.

- There was no pre-established approach for these authors and their works in Hungary. It’s a bit of a cliché now, but still true, as Weöres Sándor pointed out, that our task is to make the invisible dimension of literary material, like drama, visible. This is a huge challenge because you have to create theatre behind it. Weöres didn’t give us any instructions in Theomachia; we only had the grand flow of words and thoughts, from which we had to extract the story and formulate its essence both visually and acoustically. The mentioned plays posed challenges to the troupe that required actors, directors, and creative partners with intuitive abilities and resources.

- The need for conscious thinking, mentioned earlier, might also require the occasional need for retrospection and summarizing. The troupe’s anniversary offers a good opportunity for this, with screenings, book launches, and gala nights that recall the first ten years of Maladype. How do you see what you have achieved over the past years? How close have you come to realizing your goal? Let’s look at the two ends: on one side, the debut works Jack or the Submission and The School for Fools, and on the other side, the performances created in the last three to four years, which are still on the repertoire.

- Let those who watch our works decide where we are. One thing I’m sure of—we’re still far from the goal. A few years ago, Orsolya Kővári asked me in an interview if there was a performance in my future plans that I absolutely wanted to create. I answered—and I can’t say anything else today—that there is an author, a play, a desired performance in my head, and there are actors who may someday reach the knowledge and quality required for that particular performance. But until then, we have to build the path leading there with enormous patience, concentration, consistency, and painstaking, hard work—the very staircase you mentioned at the beginning of our conversation. The most important thing is that I have constant playmates—first and foremost the actors and my collaborators—who work with great devotion, persistence, and commitment.

- How do you avoid the story becoming insular? To what extent do external impulses influence your work?

- External impulses, on the one hand, refresh our way of thinking; on the other hand, they make us uncertain and question everything we’ve done up to that point. This forces the whole troupe to formulate new, powerful, and valid answers. Everything that touches us is there to shake us up, refresh us, and push us to rethink the directions, intentions, and goals that have shaped our work until now. If necessary, we’ll erase everything in one motion and head in the opposite direction. We cannot exclude the concept of change from the workings of Maladype because, without it, what we’re doing would not just become insular but barren, dead, and sterile. That’s exactly why I asked Sándor Zsótér to work with the troupe three times, and why I invited Italian director Claudio Collova to direct Woyzeck—because I wanted to avoid insularity.

- In addition to directors, we should also mention actors who have worked with the troupe as guests: Ilona Béres appeared in Theomachia, Mari Törőcsik in The Marriage of Figaro, and Andrea Ladányi in In Inferno.

- It’s a great feeling that those artists who are already icons in their own field are happy to come to Maladype to perform. They trust the whole troupe, Sanyi and me, unconditionally, and are fresh and open, willing to take risks. Maladype actors learn a lot from them, and we deeply appreciate it that they like and respect our work.

- What factors determine your choice of plays, beyond ensuring they’re optimal for the troupe’s functioning?

- The theme of the play primarily determines my choice. While compiling the anniversary publication, I realized that almost every play I’ve done revolves around the same theme, with the same questions recurring. Over and over again, I explore the relationship between the collective spirit of the community and the identity of the individual; in Theomachia, it’s through Kronos and the curates, in King Ubu, it’s through Ubu papa and his surroundings, and in Inferno, it’s through Dante and the damned souls' relationships with each other.

- The same applies to Ostrovsky's The Tempest, which, in contrast to your previous choices, is a realist drama.

- I picked The Tempest because for years it was pointed out to me that I wasn’t able to tell a linear story. The play’s everyday, gradually unfolding story wouldn’t have been enough on its own to satisfy me, so I tried to capture the essence of the story by transposing the main motif and climactic moment from László Németh’s Villámfénynél into Ostrovsky’s family drama, where the characters’ lives are briefly illuminated by a flash of lightning. Together with set designer Judit Gombár, we placed the story in a studio set: a ramp steeply rising before a vast painted panorama with doors cut at odd angles, evoking Russian Constructivist artists. Although the roles were developed using Stanislavsky’s psychorealistic method, the moving lights of cranes and trolleycars continuously flashing across the “studio” acted as a sobering effect on the actors’ presence—the machines, which illuminated the scenes up close, became another source of tension for the already agitated and confused characters. Ostrovsky’s "protected heroes" could thus never truly be alone. This Brechtian effect was amplified by the initial parallel, later disjointed use of Leos Janáček’s opera Katia Kabanova, where music and text almost came into Beckett-like contact.

- As an artistic director and director, you naturally have a strong influence on Maladype’s performances. But how do your actors affect you? Do you see them as co-creators, or more as executors of your concept?

- On one hand, as children whose essence is play, and on the other hand, as co-creators. A special relationship has developed between us: they are both my “children” and my friends. Of course, they don’t always agree with me, and we often argue, but this is essential within the troupe’s work. My job is to understand them and help in their development.

- I imagine that it’s not easy for your actors to adapt to your directing methods, at least they have to shed many things and rethink their approach. You’ve often said—and you alluded to it again—that your actors need to rediscover their childlike selves, the unrestrained joy of play. What kind of presence, attitude, and mental (and perhaps even physical) condition does this require of them?

- There’s no place for actors who seek an easy adventure, no matter how talented they are. Maladype demands basic abilities, professional knowledge, and proficiency from its actors, just like any other troupe, but our actors must also possess certain additional qualities. If an actor doesn’t want to constantly renew, change, and eagerly and greedily "attack" topics, tasks, situations, they’ll "starve" here. Most actors are set up for comfortable acting, so they use rehearsals mainly to fortify themselves with tools that ensure their safety.

- However, the opposite is happening at your company.

- At Maladype, the most important thing is that the actor creates their own safety in their head and prepares for unexpected situations during rehearsals. However, there is no single possible alternative or solution; the actor must always find and choose the most appropriate one. Their choice must never come from panic; panic must be completely eliminated from their performance. During rehearsals, they must prepare for the possible appearance of new and unknown elements. Let me give an example: in Egg(s)Hell, accidents can happen just like in any moment of our lives: an egg could break, someone could fall off a chair, the performers could accidentally hit each other, but the actor's reaction cannot be panic-stricken. It's similar to when a parent is watching their child on a playground, and suddenly the child falls off the swing. If panic appears on the parent's face, the child will become scared and start crying. But if the parent smiles, the child calms down. The same applies to the actor, who, if they can accurately perceive the reactions of their environment and publicly accept their failures, even think them through and incorporate them into their performance, will be successful; if not, they will become tense and full of anxiety. The gesture of generosity is essential in the functioning of Maladype. I must be generous with everything—my own vulnerability, my mistakes, my successful or unsuccessful solutions. This is all me. This is who I am.

- Your thought leads to the concept of the human actor, which is one of the foundations of your work.

- We tend to forget that actors were first human beings, and moreover, children, who for some reason longed to become actors. We have to return to that state, break down bad habits, shatter the idol of vanity, and rebuild the person in front of the audience's eyes. This, of course, is not simple and requires a special spiritual disposition and mindset. Most actors do not trust the power of spoken words; they want to assist the audience's illusion by expressing their emotions more forcefully. Yet, tension is not revealed in the moment of speaking the words, but before or after it. I am not worried about whether I can say the word "I love you" to someone, but whether they will respond with what I want to hear.

- You mentioned Egg(s)Hell, which was first performed in December 2008 at the Thália Theatre Studio. Many have tried to describe the play in various ways, including references to movement theatre and physical theatre. Undoubtedly, the play is unique in your efforts, yet it directly follows from Leonce and Lena. How would you define the kind of wordless acting you employed in Egg(s)Hell, using music, dance movements, and improvisation?

- Egg(s)Hell is a complex system, a series of exercises, and a set of possibilities that utilize and exhaust the acting abilities I’ve mentioned before. It doesn't want to tell a story, it doesn't want to be an "explanatory" performance. There, and then, as the art of the moment, it tries to dissolve into the joy of playing. The new members, Erika Tankó, Judit Ligeti Kovács, and Zénó Faragó, worked for a year before performing their first show. You can’t just step into Egg(s)Hell. The hardest part of this performance is that you have to notice when someone, at the same time as you, offers something stronger, and you must not be afraid of giving it up. An actor is inherently exhibitionist and self-actualizing, living for "me, me, and me." But here, we need "you, you, and you." This is just one example, but from this, you can already sense how much self-discipline and concentration this performance demands. There’s no recipe for it, so after the performance, I can’t tell the actors, “You should have done this or that...” We can only talk about possibilities and optimal solutions. Egg(s)Hell is like drawing a tree, which is destroyed after the performance ends, but the next day, we draw it again, and maybe it will be much smaller or more robust. Leonce and Lena, Egg(s)Hell, and later performances didn't come out of nowhere. If those incredibly strong, uniquely structured, unusual texts hadn't existed, those reflective thoughts that required distinct external and internal formulations, we wouldn’t have been able to loosen up and lighten our acting, and we wouldn't have been able to build this troupe.

- Staying with Egg(s)Hell, how does the composition and improvisation relate to each other in the play?

- There’s no composition. There are very difficult and precise exercises that I put together, but what happens in the moment, or how the partner reacts at any given time, cannot be predicted. Take, for example, the chair game, which everyone thinks is choreographed. It’s not. You can’t perform it the same way twice. It’s the same with the music; the actors don’t know what comes next, so they always have to be ready for quick changes.

- Leonce and Lena offers more scene variations rather than fixed scenes, and it seems there was a sharper shift in the company’s functioning around it. Can we talk about a standstill or crisis in connection with that?

- No, it was a completely conscious change, preceded by a horseback riding accident that kept me bedridden for three months. By then, I knew I had to make Leonce and Lena, as it was a troupe play that raised many generational, gender, and identity issues, which the members of the troupe needed to think about and discuss. I asked myself why I shouldn't show the audience what I think is most exciting in the actor's work? The moments when, in rehearsals, the actor brings out their most creative abilities. And so, the performance was born, in which the audience gets a glimpse of the actor's true workings by not seeing a single fixed, director-approved version but several variations of a scene on any given night. I believe a much fresher and more truthful Leonce came to life this way than if we had only locked in a single version.

- But this solution involved serious risks.

- We’ve performed it 86 times so far, and it has been very successful at several foreign venues. The possibility of new adventures has always strongly inspired me. I could have created eras for each performance, but I immediately moved on because I didn’t want to preserve it. That’s why my work might be hard to "pin down." I know that some critics withdrew back then because I didn’t give enough time. If I had done three more shows like The Blacks, they might have stayed with me. But I didn’t have the time for that. I decided early on that I would walk my own path and not try to please anyone. Of course, partners are needed for this, because no matter what I come up with, if they don’t accompany me on the journey, it won’t work. Everything that the actors have learned, whether in Egg(s)Hell or Leonce, is just the foundation for what they need to use in the upcoming Don Carlos/Egmont. We’ve reached a turning point, so we’ll be exploring different directions, but everything we’ve considered important so far will continue to accompany us: playfulness, directness, the everyday tone, and the presence of the human actor.

- How do you approach Schiller’s and Goethe's works Don Carlos and Egmont?

- I don’t want to tell Don Carlos and Egmont as a classical story. I want to examine the case of Carlos and Egmont in a trial setting. This idea came from the rehearsal process of Platonov and the Miskolc camp, which we also closed with a trial. Very strong arguments were made both for and against the rebuilding and complete dismantling of a factory system. Some performed well as actors but weren’t convincing, while others were excellent at arguing, but poor actors. The actors of Maladype must attempt to create a new form of play in which intellectual and emotional "manipulation" come together. The audience will watch the outcome of the case as if they were members of the jury.

- We’ve already mentioned that Maladype signifies an encounter, and indeed, the history of the troupe can be described as a story of encounters. But I would add one more word: dialogue, because you are constantly in dialogue with each other, with your creative partners, with the plays, and, of course—and perhaps most importantly—with the audience.

- I hope that we can take a step further in this communication. Many civilian experts are now joining our work, people knowledgeable in law, constitutional issues, and the media. The audience will increasingly participate in rehearsals, with a larger scope and presence. Earlier, during the public rehearsals of King Ubu, the audience could actively observe every aspect of the creation process. Most recently, in In Inferno, civilian participants embodied the "sinful souls."

- Why do you think the constant presence and participation of the audience in the performance is so important?

- Because I love the audience. I trust them. Just as the actor is always right, so is the audience. An unwritten contract has been formed between us regarding something we call theatre.
The Mikszáth Square Base, where you’ve been working since 2009, seems particularly suitable for such an intense dialogue with the audience. You perform Lorenzaccio and The Marriage of Figaro there, and King Ubu was created there. How do the theatre spaces affect your directing work? Currently, your performances are seen in three main venues: the Base, the Thália Theatre Studio, and Trafó.

- They have a very strong influence. I was eager to finally work in spaces that weren’t sterile, enclosed theatrical spaces, surrounded by artificial lights and barriers. I wanted to stage works where actors and audiences could meet directly in an exchange of energy. The spaces we use offer a new kind of theatre experience: one that isn’t mediated by illusion or separation, but one where everyone works together in a common sphere.

- Let’s not forget that you also started as an actor. You played Romeo, Tuzenbach in The Three Sisters, Bicska Maxi in The Beggar’s Opera, and János Szász assigned you the role of Treplev in The Seagull. Important roles found you, but I believe the turning point was the title role in Tim Carroll's Hamlet production, which radically broke with previous theatrical stereotypes in staging the play. It is no small matter that you received the Gábor Miklós Prize for this role, but what’s much more important is how it influenced your directing work and later productions. What experiences did you gain from that work?

- For example, the experience I gained in Hamlet was very significant during the staging of Leonce and Lena. I got to experience firsthand, with my own body and nervous system, how limitless the actor’s communication tools are. There was one Hamlet performance where I stopped in the middle of a monologue and asked for a break from the audience because my brain was exhausted. That can’t happen—the actor must not stop because their job is to stay in the moment and finish the performance, no matter what. But I couldn’t continue because I would have been lying. I sat down for two minutes, went through the thought process in my head, and reconstructed the monologue word by word. There was stunned silence, and my partners were "shocked," as they weren’t prepared for something like that. It was only on my way home that I realized what I had done. I realized that I had been "interested" in solving Hamlet’s problem; I had truly used my brain, not just pretended to, and that’s why I was exhausted and needed to stop. I had normal symptoms because the actor, and the role they represent, is fragile, vulnerable, and easily fatigued—it can easily "drain." The actors of Maladype also stop during performances and tell the audience if something isn’t right inside. I am convinced that the audience is much more likely to embrace this type of actor than one who constantly shows that everything is fine.

- Let’s return to the current situation! Maintaining an independent company and securing the necessary funds has not been easy in recent years, and it is an even greater challenge now. Recently, the Performing Arts Act was amended, creating three main funding categories: national, prominent, and other. How does this affect your operation?

- That’s hard to predict. We automatically fall into the "other" category, the "scraps," which is essentially doomed to die. We can propose our classification, but if I were to put Maladype into the prominent category—nationally, it’s clearly not possible—the curators can override that, and the final decision is with the minister. Right now, the entire Hungarian cultural life is in a trap. It saddens me that a country is consuming and then spitting out its intellectual resources.

- What can be done in this situation? How can you ensure the survival of the troupe?

- Maybe we can count on some sponsors. But the most important thing is the loyalty of the audience. I still see opportunities in co-productions and foreign guest performances.

- If I understand correctly, you are focusing on creating more performances and taking on more guest appearances.

- Yes, you understood that perfectly. It’s all about work, nothing else. I don’t like to complain because so many others are doing it. Why should our voice be the one they hear?

- Does the constant struggle for survival consume a significant amount of your energy?

- It would be better if I didn’t have to deal with it, but I have no choice. One must work hard for their freedom.

- As the artistic director, you lead the work of Maladype. How much do your own artistic ambitions take a backseat? Do your personal directing goals still shine through behind Maladype’s work?

- They must be visible because I "stimulate" this team. My philosophy shapes Maladype’s operations. If I didn’t stay at least ten to twenty steps ahead of the actors, I couldn’t function as either a company leader or a director.

- Now, as we speak, Maladype is reflecting on its ten-year history. Do you see another ten years ahead for yourself and the troupe? What are the prospects, and how do you imagine the future?

- I can imagine anything, including the possibility that we won’t have another ten years. We might move forward, but we might also get stuck in a rut. One thing is certain: we must continue our work as we have, and our path will reveal itself.

Gábor Ménesi, Műút, 2012

Translation by Zsuzsanna Juraszek

Although recently we regularly hear bad news about independent theaters: unpaid subsidies, severely reduced amounts and a showdown with them in the new performing arts law, Maladype is still preparing for a celebration. The company was brought together ten years ago by Ionesco's play Jack; since then, critics sometimes refer to them as a high school of acting, or as a theater of pleasure, and sometimes as a self-righteous and excessively norm-breaking group. There is no doubt about one thing: Maladype has earned an unquestionable place in domestic and international theater with its unusual formal features and unique vision. On November 19, they will be greeted by the entire theater profession, from A to Z, from permanent theaters to alternative theaters, as part of a gala show. In connection with the anniversary, we spoke with Zoltán Balázs Nádasdy Kálmán, Jászai Mari and Őze Lajos award-winning director and artistic director.

- Maladype’s (Encounters) forerunner was the Vareso Aver troupe, made up of Gipsy and non-Gipsy members, who contracted for a single performance in a brave and free adventure (Blood wedding, directed by Zoltán Lendvai). Would anyone have thought then that it would become an officially registered theater?

- I wasn't even in the picture, but the Serbian producer Dragan Ristic wanted a piece that wasn't so folklore-based. He was looking for a director who could make theater in Gypsy and Hungarian, with a mix of professionals and amateurs, but everyone said no. They recommended me as a mentally ill guy who would accept it. At the time, I was commuting between France and Hungary and I had the desire for adventure. It was also known about the play (Ionesco: Jack, or the Submission) that it had already failed everywhere, so it was doomed from the start. In my concept, the Gipsy family spoke the Lovári language all the time and only switched to Hungarian when the Hungarian family got involved in the play, and at the end the two got mixed up. People loved it. The freedom of "why not" gave everyone such energy and faith that our eponymous performance was born.

- Then with the next one, (Ghelderode: The School for Fools), which is also a symbol-laden, surrealist material, you took a risk again.

- In that case, we also did not want to illustrate the written material. Erika Molnár, who played Galgüt, spoke three languages, the fools were Gypsies, but they had to speak Latin and they were trained for the highest etiquette, their original identity was terribly suppressed, which then exploded on stage. Here we asked: is there art, is there a single answer, path, form and content.

- And there is?

- There is no answer. I brought a gift, and I didn't: take it if you know, that's what art is about. Somewhere halfway between the two performances, we realized that we really had met each other. A normal person does not become a company leader, especially not so consciously. If the community is good and people are happy to talk about something in it and take risks, then it is worth doing.

- At that time, you were already an actor and director at Bárka, you could have followed this path as well.

- Yes, I already prepared Theomachia and The Blacks, but I felt that these people should not only be kept, but also developed. Many people have already joined us here. (Artúr Kálid, Éva Bakos, Kristóf Horváth, Balázs Dévai, Nóra Parti) Maladype was just a side activity for everyone, the scenes were made during nights, in stolen times, like partisan actions. On our way, The Blacks meant the combination of instinct and consciousness: a metacommunicative world and a system of signs that is understandable to the spectator, but also transports him into the world of ceremony, like at mass, where he is not impressed by what happens, but by how it happens. We invited opera singers who lent their voices live to the gaping actor. Many people could not put this anywhere, because they thought I had crossed a line.

- You also played in Bárka. You are headstrong, you can be yourself almost only in your own coordinates and ideas, yet you had to let roles be assigned to you. Did you meet the expectations of others?

- I don't think I could do them well. For example, I was a horrible Romeo. The only role I could do well: Hamlet. In Hamlet, my coordinated side was paired with a very free, very rebellious side of me. But I wasn't an actor there either, I tried to represent Hamlet's problem as Zoltán Balázs. It happened that during the fifth monologue I was very tired, I felt that I could not continue the play and that I needed a little break. The other me said that this is why they are paying me and waiting for the effect. Then, while they were fighting with each other, I told 350 people in the auditorium that I would like two minutes because I was tired. There was a great silence, and then I slowly started to piece together the monologue word by word. The audience applauded - they felt that the theater had been destroyed and I was just one of them - but the actors were shocked that such a thing could not be done. It was an important discovery that man dares to allow himself errors.

- At the age of six, you left home with a suitcase and ran after a traveling circus because you wanted to play. Then you became an actor and director because you still wanted to act. In managing a troupe, especially in today's situation, what is the game for you?

- I'm still surprised by the Russian roulette nature of the independent theater, they still haven't fired the bullet that's in the gun, but they'll, I'm sure. To this day, I have so many questions to ask, but I can't answer them until I get to the end. Doing is always more valuable than thinking about whether to do. I'd rather make a decision and then close my eyes or ears so we can sense it. I know that one day it will end and there is a performance at the end that I want to do, but there are still many things to go through.

- They are trying to shorten this path for you now. The performing arts law, which came into effect in 2013, has already been adopted, where you, the independents who have been highlighted so far, are classified into a practically non-existent third category after the national and permanent theaters, along with about three hundred others. As a company leader, you have to plan ahead. What will you do if this happens?

- You have to think ahead and move forward even in such a situation. I want to live and work in this country and preferably in the quality that they expect and are used to from us. If we can't get into a situation at home that matches our talent, knowledge and years of proven experience, then we will have no choice but to leave, because I don't want to and I can't work in an unworthy situation. I should be primarily concerned with the direction, the plays and the development of my actors, not with fighting in Orwellian conditions and making my voice heard.

- Are there any set-in-stone principles within the troupe?

- We don't lie to each other and to the spectator. Of course, we also have disagreements, age group and taste tensions, but the spirit is the same. It is very important for the troupe leader to be dominant, but he cannot dominate the troupe or impose his palm on the personalities of his actors, because then there will not be free, powerful and fresh people who are burning with being themselves. Here at the Base, we play in an intimate space and I have human actors. Everyone forgets that he was first a man, then he became an actor. With us, the spectators stay here even after the performance, we talk to them. We get tired if we are not being asked. I want to know what they take home: if they tell me, I get it.

- However, not many people could handle this pace. From the initial company, only Kamilla Fátyol is with you.

- Yes, what we do is not necessarily actor-friendly in the classical sense of the word, but if someone crosses this certain border, where there are no guarantees and safety limits, then it is a great experience and a great happiness. The actor reaches areas that he would never reach on his own. There is no recipe for who does it and why, but one's own responsibility cannot be avoided. You have to believe that something can happen to you here, and if it can, it will.

- Most independent theaters define themselves along contemporary lines. In comparison, you play real classics, you didn't write any pieces yourself. What determines the choice of pieces?

- I am not attracted to contemporary dramas, for me the theme is also contemporary in Don Carlos, I would like to approach the realization in a "contemporary" way. I think of the theater as much more elevated, more distant, to which signs and codes lead, it cannot be offered on a tray, because then the interest of those who come here will be destroyed. I want to surprise the spectator, but I won't surprise them because a sentence or a situation will be familiar. For me, the actor determines the play, if I don't have an actor who is suitable for the task, then I don't do that play, even though I have a list in my head of the order of the plays.

- You already have many invitations abroad. You just came home from Poland, then went to Romania and Transylvania, and then to Vienna, almost within two weeks. Did you have to push and lobby for the invitations at the beginning, or did it come naturally?

- Eight years ago, the contemporary drama festival featured The Blacks and Theomachia at the same time. They called me back then, but we didn't go because we weren't there yet. I still had to find the most ideal medium material, who are able to maintain a repertoire, operate in such an environment and do not hesitate to operate their nervous system, I’ve been having this for four years.

- How did you get Mari Töröcsik, the Actress of the Nation to "play" with you in The Marriage of Figaro?

- Do you think she would be here if she didn't want to? She is simply curious about who she is and who else she can be. I don't think I can describe the development history of Maladype more absurdly than the fact that Mari Törőcsik rehearses and plays with us in an apartment theater in the eighth district and calls me director.

Ágnes Szabó, 168 Hours, 2011

Translation by Zsuzsanna Juraszek

Maladype Theatre celebrated its ten-year anniversary this year. With a special gala that moved the industry, they indicated that not only in their name, but also with their existence, they are working to create meetings between the members of the industry, actors and spectators. On this occasion, we spoke with the company's artistic director, Zoltán Balázs.

- How did Maladype's birthday gala show go?

- It was an experience beyond expectations. It is honorable and uplifting that so many people from the theater profession and other fields (music, dance, puppetry) came. I think what really happened was what made us think it was important to organize this "people-centered" gala: the meeting. There was an intense life both on and off the stage. I think the most valuable thing is that people finally came together not against something, but for something .

- The company's name also obliges the company to do so, since Maladype means meeting.

- The theater got this name when our show School for Fools was already being prepared at Szkéné. Before that, we didn't have a company name, since during our first joint work, no one would have thought that there would be a sequel. I was a graduate director when a Serbian producer, Dragan Ristic, approached me to direct Ionesco's play, Jack, or the submission, with amateurs and professionals, gypsies and non-gypsies. This play previously failed almost everywhere in the world, so for me and the team, performing the work was a great challenge and a special adventure. Thanks to our unique concept - which unified the differences of the participants - it was still a success, so the School for Fools, which was spoken in Latin, Gypsy and Hungarian, was born as a result of this spontaneous meeting.

- A book was prepared for the 10-year anniversary. Did you close something? Or are you just focused on the future?

- This and that. Basically, I am a person of the moment, so even now, after ten years, I am still focused on the present, and I do not want to conclude, understand and digest everything. But it is a fact that such an important event unwittingly prompts all of us to interpret and examine the impulses and phases experienced together in its context. Ten years ago, the company set out on a journey and, while remaining true to itself, tried to get from somewhere to somewhere. This anniversary is a great opportunity to do a "big wash".

- Even if they do not draw a conclusion, there are still milestones.

- Naturally. Such were The Blacks, Acropolis or Leonce and Lena. Of course, not necessarily in the sense that these performances were/are being tried to be boxed in by theater analysts. It's true that we didn't make their job easier, because we changed the style or direction of writing that they could have gotten used to. I learned from Ilona Béres that you have to be able to switch and stop in time.

- How did Ilona Béres get in touch with the troupe?

I asked her to play the role of Kronos in Sándor Weöres' play Theomachia. Ilona Béres is both a curious, childlike creature and a determined predator. If she smells blood, she will strike. She made a decision after the invitation and did not look back. As Kronos, she stood motionless in the set for two and a half hours, spoke backwards in the second half of the work, and even had the energy left to provide useful advice to her young colleagues. I think she really knows what endurance is. In Theomachia, she stood not with his feet, but with his "head".

- Did Mari Törőcsik also come as a predator?

- She came back from the death. Who else could do this "stunt"? Mari Törőcsik, like Ilona, ​​is still curious about the new, the ever-changing. Sándor Zsótér and I asked her to play the role of Marcellina in Figaro, and she came to play at Maladype. At Maladype Basis, Mari Törőcsik plays so close to the audience as perhaps never before. A lively and vibrant playmate, an attentive and giving Master. I wish she could be with us as much as possible.

- What is special about Maladype that grabs you so much? How would you define and promote Maladype?

- I don't want to promote it, it's not my job. I don't know what makes you "stick" to it, but I'm sure that Maladype is a community theater where independent and free personalities strive for the experience of performing together night after night. It is important to us to maintain a constant and deep conversation with spectators, for that we developed a strong and direct relationship with our audience. We believe in human-centeredness, the "human actor", which means that during the performance, the actor reminds himself again and again that he was a human before he was an actor.

- Are spectators always open to this game? Wasn't it the case that the audience just didn't want to play along? After all, the performance of Leonce and Lena wouldn't even work if the audience didn't participate.

- Fortunately, spectators are extremely open-minded. However, the actors of Maladype must also be able to handle situations when the audience has difficulty opening up for some reason. In such cases, a lot depends on the actors' intelligence, ability to create relationships, as well as their sense of rhythm and style. It's a matter of continuous conditioning. We cannot pretend that the spectators are not in the same space as us and that we do not notice when they sneeze, ask for a tissue or go out. In recent decades, the theater has, unfortunately, placed the spectator further and further away from the happenings on stage, in an observational position. We want players and spectators to be able to get closer to each other again during the game.

- In the troupe young people make the majority. Is it something that changes constantly?

- Continuously, but that's okay, because theater itself is change, metamorphosis. If it is not capable of renewal, it feeds itself and dies. Sometimes it's brutally hard and too fast, but it's necessary. It is important for a troupe to dare and offer something new to itself and the audience, because if it is not able to do this, it will become worn out and remain introverted. Young people are perhaps the most suitable for this risky business.

- Can you accept it if someone suddenly quits, for example Leonce and Lena and goes to another troupe?

- I can/could accept it, but this has never happened before and I believe that it cannot happen, since the actors of the troupe didn’t sign on to Maladype in search of an easy adventure. They know what they are doing, but if it doesn't turn out the way they planned or the way we wanted, there are people who are so honest that they don't let down either the company or their playmates with whom they previously built the performance. With Leonce and Lena, we are at the 83rd performance and it is the most specific piece of Maladype's eight-piece repertoire; it is not as easy to jump out of it as it is to jump in. We currently play our shows in three different locations: Maladype Base, Thália and Trafó. I consider this important because our actors can try themselves in several plays at the same time in several locations. Unlike the majority of Hungarian actors -whose university training basically prepares them for safe acting-, the Maladype troupe is committed to surprising, unpredictable and constantly changing theater situations. It is impossible that while everything around us changes, we ourselves do not change...

- You recently stated that "it's an extreme situation" and it's hard to run an independent theater under such conditions.

- Hard as a rock. We are trying to stay alive, move forward and show new things, while our work is being less and less supported and our room for maneuver is becoming more and more narrow. Materially, the situation is clearly "extreme".

- You are one of the prominent independent theaters.

- Yes, we are highlighted with a "surplus" of 500,000 HUF. It doesn't matter what domestic and international successes we can show, it doesn't matter whether we have a long-term strategy and concept, operating principle, infrastructure and sensible, verifiable economic operation, unfortunately all of this is not what matters. What matters is who's who you are and what circles you belong to. The more you're around, the more certain survival seems - apparently. Certain achievements, values ​​and results should speak for themselves. Those theater communities and intellectual workshops that have already proven themselves and that believe in consistent team work and want to develop, whose goals are characterized by innovative tendencies and the continuous pursuit of quality, should be given the opportunity - as, for example, in Poland - to continue to develop and fulfill themselves. In Poland, they say to a beginning company manager/director: our friend, you get five years, and when it is over, we will see what has been realized of your plans; where is your talent, your momentum, and what is the new perspective of the company you lead. If we see that you were able to run your theater business efficiently and successfully, you will get another 5-10 years, if not, thank you very much. But at least that person got a chance.

- But the possibility of “Barn’s warmth” is also there.

- Sure, it's everywhere. I don't think this is the case only here, but I live in this country. I would be proud if things didn't work that way in this country. It's like Orwell's Animal Farm: all animals are equal, but the pigs are a bit more equal. However, there are other people working on the farm. The independent theater sphere is no more valuable than any other theater environment, the different areas of the theater structure cannot be distinguished and subordinated to each other in this way. I would like those who have already put something on the table to not always have to start from scratch, because that way you can neither plan nor develop - but staying alive is also in question.

- Despite the not very positive picture, what else do you have planned for the second half of this season?

- Now that the Maladype 10-year anniversary celebration is over, we will continue the rehearsal process that has already started. Schiller's Don Carlos and Goethe's Egmont await us.

Beáta Kézdi, hetivalasz.hu, 2011

Translation by Zsuzsanna Juraszek

As a kind of reckoning, the ten-year-old Maladype Theater holds a one-week jubilee series with performances, screenings, and a book launch. As part of this, a gala evening will be organized tonight at the Pesti Theater, where Mari Törőcsik, Ilona Béres, Éva Almási, László Sinkó will appear, among others, and the list of performers is very long. We spoke with Zoltán Balázs, the head of the troupe, about the beginnings, the present, and the chances of the company's survival.

- I don't want to sum it up, but since Maladype means meeting, I thought it was stylish to meet yourself again, with someone who fell into this adventure by accident, together with the spectators who grew up with us. - Zoltán Balázs justifies the necessity of the jubilee week - We are researching where we came from and where we are going. I learned from director Robert Wilson, who I consider one of my important masters, that sometimes you have to stop for a while to see the direction you are heading towards, put the risk factors in their place, you have to motorize things again.
Today's gala evening at the Pesti Theater is primarily a meeting with those who have been and will continue to be associated with the Maladype Theatre.

- Many people thought that they belonged there, and this is also important because now independent and permanent theater artists come together not against something, but for something - Zoltán Balázs adds. Many people come to the gala from many directions, and according to the head of Maladype, the fact that Éva and Ágnes Almási are performing on the same stage says a lot about the openness of the initiative, this can also prove that there is still an opportunity for meeting and dialogue today - claims the Transylvanian-born actor, thirty-four-year-old Zoltán Balázs, who also holds a degree in directing. He had just graduated from college when a Serbian producer approached him to create a performance in Gypsy and Hungarian, and offered him a play by Ionesco, Jack or the submission, the young director was attracted by the adventure and said yes.

- The Maladype troupe was created from the team at that time. Then they made the School for Fools, which was also a success, then new members joined the team. Later, a new task always arose, and this courage, risk-taking, and enthusiasm kept the team together. The actors became playmates and mediums who demanded the attention of the troupe leader, the excitement of playing together and traveling together. The team has changed in the meantime, almost all members of today's troupe are trained actors, having attended university in Budapest or abroad. Kamilla Fátyol is the only one who can be considered Maladype's own upbringing.

- It is a big thing that we proved to be viable, that we developed our own image and that we entered the international market. The actors became more confident in being able to communicate with the world. But together with the troupe, my job is to constantly passionately and greedily search for and research the new - says Zoltán Balázs - of course this involves fights and struggles. They can be my mouthpieces, but they can also deny what I ask of them, and this results in rethinking and reformulation. We are full of new goals and new dreams.

- An important stage in the life of Maladype is that they recently got their own performing venue, the Base on Mikszáth Square, a three-room flat, where, for example The Marriage of Figaro was made, Mari Törőcsik also took a role in this production, but the troupe currently has eight performances in its repertoire. In addition to their own base, they continue to play at the Thália Theater and Trafó.
The Maladype Theater, as an independent company, received 34 million state subsidies for one year three years ago, 22 million last year, and only 15.5 million this year.

- The existence of the team is uncertain. We can pray and lobby, but I still believe primarily in work, for example, foreign co-production opportunities represent a serious opportunity - says Zoltán Balázs about the future, who cannot predict whether Maladype will be able to stay together for another ten years - So far, nothing has happened but from one side of the boulevard of Tavaszmező Street, we moved to the other side, Mikszáth Square. We cannot know in advance how long a meeting will last - he notes with a wry smile.

Gyula Balogh, Népszava, 2011

Translation by Zsuzsanna Juraszek

The internationally noted director comes and goes in the world like Odysseus, who feels that perhaps it is time to return to Ithaca, his home. His new direction, the stage version of Margaret Atwood's novel The Penelopiad, will be presented on the 22nd of July at the Gyula Castle Theater after the Budapest one. 

- Is it a coincidence or a conscious choice that in recent years, the world has produced performances by women writers that captivate from a female perspective. The line-up is enriched by the stage version of Atwood's novel, The Penelopiad, which tells the story of Odysseus from the wife's point of view. Do you miss the female point of view these days?

- Absolutely. Especially the capacity for empathy and forgiveness. The characters of the plays I direct are experienced, determined and strong women who fight for their rights. Such deeply emotional and self-identified women who bravely stand up against fixations and prejudices. I'm lucky because the actresses kept me close to their souls during the rehearsals for Gardenia, Nine and Alice in Bed, they didn't slander or take sides. Harmony quickly developed between us and proved to be lasting.

- What occupied you in The Penelopiad?

- I am interested in the passion of the search for truth. The elemental desire that drives Odysseus's wife to finally hear her own voice. According to Atwood, the past helps us understand the present, so it not only strengthens the female aspects of the myth, but also presents us with a psychological thriller full of secrets and an exciting crime story running on several threads, in which the long-suffering Penelope is forced to face herself and a hidden crime. You have to carefully sort through delusions, manipulative intentions, conflicting opinions and defamatory rumors. At the very end of the confessional story, Penelope refers to herself and Odysseus as shameless liars. As a couple who never believed each other's words. His revealing statement reveals that we all exist from lies.

- The torments of physical existence, from illnesses to difficult family and relationship constraints, lock man into matter, who can only be free in his imagination and spirit. Did this idea inspire you to stage the play Alice in Bed, which was performed at the Örkény Theater for the second time? In this, the mysterious illness and bedriddenness of the writer Alice James come to life with the images of Alice in Wonderland?

- In 2020, I staged Susan Sontag's work as an exam performance for the graduating acting class of the Marosvásárhely University of Arts, but unfortunately, due to the Covid epidemic, the students were only able to perform the production put together with a lot of work once. After what happened, we all had a strong sense of loss. When I received an invitation to direct the MESS International Theater Festival in Sarajevo in 2022, I immediately knew that I had to rethink this multifaceted existentialist play with Bosnian artists. The significance of my choice was only enhanced by the four-fold jubilee associated with the personality of the American writer: the anniversary of her birth and death, the thirtieth commemoration of her production of Waiting for Godot during the Yugoslav War, and the American premiere of Alice in Bed.

- To what extent did the historical, social and cultural background, the memory of the Bosnian War, the Sarajevo War Theater, whose members were honored as national heroes, give additional meaning to the performance?

- The social memory of the South Slavic war is alive. The mental injuries caused by the siege are passed down from generation to generation, therefore the thinking of the youngest generation of artists is deeply influenced by the exploration and knowledge of the still hidden burdens of the unspoken past. In Bosnia, peace is lasting, but religious, political and ethnic tensions are still present, unresolved spasms remain. The creators try to find themselves and their place in the world in the spirit of "pure memory". At the beginning of the rehearsal process, we got to know each other's viewpoints and revealed our personal experiences related to the Sontag text.

- The image of the disease also appears in Sontag's other writings.

- Sontag dissects the concrete and abstract rhetoric of disease images, the metaphorical and metaphorical application of the pathological condition in his study volume entitled Illness as Metaphor. In his opinion, well-executed similes, which can even carry contradictory ideas, can be used to describe sensuality, passion, repression, purification and "stiffness of the soul". Alice, suffering from a variety of obscure and debilitating illnesses, experiences her state of stuckness as cyclical projections of despair, hopelessness, and rage. Negative emotions, family tensions and traumatic memories form a specific pattern in his imagination. The pyramid-like structure symbolizing the state space of the performance also reflects this, the mountain of unresolved issues rooted in the past. In Sontag's world view, the landscapes of the realm of illness are populated by ominous metaphors, which are difficult to get out of, so I supplemented the text of the work with three riddles. The answer to the first is "Memory" and to the third "Nothing". The arch stretching between the two expression is the supporting pillar of the performance: it is only possible to move forward if we eliminate the dissonance that is straining within us.

- He was forced to wind up the Maladype troupe. Are they about to pass away or be reborn?

- Time will tell. All forces unfold in their own time, but this moment is unpredictable. We have to be ready for it. Maladype's vitality has always been fueled by change. Since our inception, we have known that everyday life is full of surprises, side effects, anomalies and adversity that we have to overcome. The strength of our theater lies in its organization and not its size. After we were forced to part with our permanent company due to financial reasons in May 2023, we returned to project-based operation. We are currently creating domestic and international co-productions with guest artists, which we distribute on several continents.

- A noted artist on the international stage, he absorbs many cultures during his foreign productions and guest performances at Maladype. Do you observe domestic theater conditions from the status of an outsider?

- Although thanks to my work abroad I can stay out of the domestic theater scene, I still regret that I cannot make a meaningful contribution to the development of Hungarian theater life with my knowledge, experience and international network of contacts. It is a world phenomenon that the quality of the theater, just like that of the food, changes before our eyes, and not necessarily in a good direction. Amid the multitude of direct messages, our professionals forgot to write in theatrical language. Forward-looking attempts are being made in the form of "local anesthesia", but I would rather call these efforts zone reforms. We need more creators who, keeping in mind the cause of theater art, by connecting creative intentions, are able to unite our battered theater world as a bridge.

- They developed a progressive, innovative direction in their application with Andrea Rost to manage the Opera House. Together with the other applicants, they "failed" by sticking to the proven, the usual. Does it make sense to come up with an experimental spirit in this centralized cultural management?

- That's the only thing that makes sense. Conceptual, daring and independent thinking induces real change. As co-creators of Andrea Rost, we undertook to create a distinguished place for the Opera House in the international opera world. We did what we deemed necessary and we live with the consequences. The misery surrounding the opera competition made our friendship with Andrea even closer. For me, cosmopolitan artistic individuals like him, who are carriers of universal urges, are extremely inspiring. It takes a lot of fortitude not to give up when you see what others don't. As before, we use our knowledge where it is needed. I recently received an invitation from Amsterdam to lead an art institution, but I don't know if I, who, like Odysseus, constantly come and go between the islands, would be able to settle exclusively on the land of Kirké or Kalypszó. It may be time to return home to Ithaca, where my home and family are.

Rita Szentgyörgyi, HVG, 2024

Translated by Zsuzsanna Juraszek

 

The internationally noted director comes and goes in the world like Odysseus, who feels that perhaps it is time to return to Ithaca, his home. His new direction, the stage version of Margaret Atwood's novel The Penelopiad, will be presented on the 22nd of July at the Gyula Castle Theater after the Budapest one. 

"A director has to make his mark in his very first performance: if he doesn't succeed at first, he won't look for it later."
The Maladype Theatre is now celebrating its tenth birthday. Instead of celebratory honorifics, should we start with saying "maladipe"? Because sometimes you say "maladájp" and others "maladip".

- It should be pronounced "maladipe", but as a joke I also say "maladájp", as it is pronounced in English at international festivals. In Gypsy, for example, "malagyipe." For me it can be "maladip" or "M.D." also - anything is good. Back then we needed a name that accurately expresses the essence of the spontaneous encounter between Gypsy and non-Gypsy actors during the company's first work (Jack, or the Submission). Maladype means meeting in Gypsy, and since the sound of the word is also very beautiful, we kept it.

- The pictures in your performances are also beautiful. You used to talk a lot about non-verbal theater as your ideal. Somehow, I've always felt that between visuals and text, the latter is secondary for you, for example in Leonce and Lena...

- However, there is a lot of text in Leonce and - although powerful movements accompany the different scene variations - the backbone of the performance is still the precise and clear interpretation of the written material. Regardless, we also have non-verbal solutions, but dramas are not only baroque tangles of visual worlds or acoustic pleasures. There are many conditions for image, text, movement and music to meet, but they are only interesting together. Mostly, everything depends on the condition, readiness and creative energy of the actors: how fresh their brains are. The team has changed over the years, partly because as the leader of an independent troupe, of course, financially I cannot maintain families. If we talk about the leading of the actors, Egg(s)Hell is our most special performance, where there is no text, the actors have to improvise, and I can no longer help them during the performances. Everything is their responsibility. Actually, non-text-centered performances based on non-dramatic material are better for conditioning the actors.

- Then you also say that sometimes the image and text match, other times not. Can you give an example of both?

- It happens that I see something as very good, but others think it is not. For example, "too beautiful" - this is often blamed on me, and I don't really know what to do with it. The clarity, orderliness and discipline of the iconography mean perfect harmony to me. Striving for this is essential in my stage compositions. Such was Pelleas and Melisande, which I consider one of my most beautiful works. Over the years, I realized that if I had left enough time at the beginning after Pelleas... or The Blacks, then over time not only the spectators but also the analysts would have learned to decode each language, but Maladype and I had always changed the language. When they would have said that it was good, we understood, then we jumped to another type of performance, for example Empedocles, in which practically nothing happened while the actor got from one side of the stage or the table to the other, only the whole world turned around and with him. The Man was at the center, around whom everything is constantly changing. I've been directing this ever since, as it's what I'm most interested in: this is what King Ubu and Inferno is about, that's what School for Fools was like, Theomachia and Empedocles.

- And from your point of view, what didn’t work out?

- I do not know. Sanyi Zsótér and I still have a little argument about Acropolis (Wyspianski's play was directed by the two at Bárka - N. H.). He is convinced that it was too big of a task because we did not assess enough what the team at the time could handle. I agree with that, but if we didn't do it then, we would never have gotten to Leonce and Lena, which is now running its eighty-fourth performance. Our first few works were sent to heaven by the critics, then some of them didn't find the handle after that, because our pace changed: our internal development required a different rhythm.

- You mentioned that as an independent it is difficult to support the families of company members. Politics also has a big say in this.

- Of course, but not only politics. Taking care of a company is also a matter of concept, strategy and cooperation. Obviously, the situation of the independents is the most difficult, but I must add that if the selection comes sooner, and in addition to the many small companies there are some that receive guarantees, we would hold it elsewhere. In Poland, for example, they say: you get five years, my friend, in that time show what you are capable of! If we see that you have enough talent, perseverance and perspective, we will give you another ten years. Think about what it's like to work without accounting for everything you've spent operating money on when you know no one is looking. So what's up? Who you know. This is not normal, this is infuriating; and the most infuriating thing is that we can all do something about where we are.

- I've never heard you talk about public affairs, especially not on stage.

- That's why we reflect to the news, even if we don't do “news theater”: in King Ubu, the dailies randomly fall into the hands of Ákos Orosz or Ádám Tompa, but of course everything is always a bit arbitrary with us. Kornél Mundruczó is really interested in this form of theatre-making, and he does it well, but we and I are interested in something completely different, and I'm afraid it wouldn't go well if we turned to it. Many timely ideas will also arise in Don Carlos, but in the meantime the actors are still expressing Schiller, and then Goethe in Egmont. I would never do documentary theater because I am not interested and because there are directors who are really specialists in this. Today's theater is a little too compassionate for me anyway. Too forgiving and conflict-free. A “friendly” rehearsal process became somewhat mandatory.

- You also always say about your company that it is above all cheerful.

- Of course, it is cheerful, but this cheerfulness is given by energy. The real, nerve- and brain-consuming, flowing energy. We still grind and argue with each other.

- And others don’t?

- Others too, but there are many "theaters of love", where the main thing is that the actors do not come into conflict with the partner, the director or the material. Least of all with themselves. Art itself is a conflictual genre. It is not worth trying and playing conflict-free, at most only lightly.

- Then let's take a conflict: your production of The Duchess of Malfi was removed from the program of the National Theater after a few performances. It turns out that it is visually identical to a performance of Oedipus the King...

- I wasn't talking about that kind of conflict. When Mari Törőcsik was accused of embezzling the assets of the Művész Theater, she said that if she had a whole hour on a TV channel where she could talk about all this publicly, she would do it, but not in three minutes. This is too complex, complicated and ugly story for that. I think she spoke about this for the first time in fifteen years on “Záróra”. Here, I would only note that the history of Malfi can be searched in all my directions up to this point. A director has to make his mark in his very first performance: if he doesn't succeed at first, he won't look for it later. Those who have really followed my career know that I have been dealing with the same problem (individual versus collective) and the same signal system for years. From the first moment, opera, puppetry or exotic, Asian, African art are present in my works. Why would I need to copy anyone when I can work from authentic sources?

- The problem here was that Malfi and King Oedipus’ visuals were the same.

- How would it have been the same visually? One depicts an atavistic, Beckettian end-world based on decayed, raw and rough materials, while the other presents a bright gothic visual world woven with oriental minimalism and aesthetics, elaborated in details, in connection with a didactic play such as Malfi. That is why the stage lacked the blood and filth that Hungarian traditions would have "required". Julie Taymor, who directed that Oedipus, borrowed this huge, large-handed, double-headed solution from the Kwakiutl Indians around Vancouver Island or the Eugungun Flali masks from Ivory Coast. It's not her invention, just like it's not mine. These were made for various tribal ceremonies, from which Taymor most likely drew as we did for Amalfi. But (theatre) renewal cannot work without learning about the cultural traditions of humanity. This affair was a nasty trap into which we all carelessly walked. And the worst part is the procedure itself: it was as if they were renovating the performance, and then there was no word, no speech, I found out from somewhere else that it was taken down. I learned from it. I consider Malfi to be one of the most important performances of my career, and I always think of the actors playing in it with great affection, because they took a risky and unusual path with me during the rehearsal process. László Sinkó's portrayal of Bosola was the greatest acting performance of the season.

- Then let's move on. You are no longer only directing rarely played authors, and of course you are looking for your own way, but you are also using recipes. Do you usually watch other directors' interpretations before your work?

- Yes, I think it is very important for a director to be informed and prepared. I read everything I can.

- Aren't you afraid that it will bind your imagination?

- No way! Just because I read Thomas Mann, I don't start writing and speaking in his style. And I don't need to take pictures from others, since I have my own dreams and independent visions of the world and myself. I had good teachers who believed in the continuous development of association skills, and I live according to their guidance.

- Orsolya Kővári conducted several interviews with you. You told her you knew exactly where you are heading to.

- That's right, and I'll tell her. I promised, because for a long time she’s been trying to get out of me what that piece is that I'm really interested in.

- But why don't you do that right now?

- Because I'm not there yet. This is the lesson of the Acropolis, you can't rush the things.

- And if you were to experiment over and over again the perfroamnce that interests you the most?

- No, you can't store the jam five times either. New piece, new challenge. If I’ll be alive, I will do it. I have great actors, but they have to get there with me. Anyway, there are several things holding it back, we perform a lot, we travel a lot, I also have foreign directings waiting for me, who knows when there will be time for that. I would also like to write a book, and that would also require a quiet semester.

- That's what I wanted to ask. You reflect quite a lot on your own work.

- Which is perhaps not typical for directors in Hungary. Now for the anniversary, after crazy work, a book about ten years of Maladype has been published. We also organized a birthday gala, which finally brings people together not against something, but for something. But nothing ends with the holiday, we keep working. We're still alive, I think an independent company can't show more than that today.

Noémi Herczog, Revizoronline, 2011

Translation by Zsuzsanna Juraszek

This year, Zoltán Balázs celebrates the ten-year existence of his company, Maladype. They commemorate the anniversary with events, a book about the company’s ten years and the staging of Dante’s Divine Comedy. The leader of the company squeezed a good hour and a half between two festivals to talk about his working method, the experiences and memories of the ten years.

- Let’s talk about festivals first. How did you prepare to perform abroad with the company?

- In the first place, the way our company works is quite special. Our eight pieces in the repertoire must be constantly conditioned. They need to be maintained at all times. Physically, the expectation from the actors is quite high. At the same time, you have to prepare mentally, because the stage presence is not just instinct, not just intuition. The brain, the attention, the shared attention, the parallel perception, and therefore the mental condition, need to be trained. This conditioning takes place with us all year round. Festivals are a test for us of how well something works in a foreign environment that we have worked all year long. Luckily, they call us a lot and we accept requests.

- Is there a difference between Hungarian and foreign audiences?

- Yes, absolutely. Hungarian spectators cling to the verbal part of the performances. Abroad, the importance of metacommunication at festivals intensifies. It is a different challenge for the actor to speak to audiences who do not understand what he is saying. Even though there is subtitling, things are so tense that the spectator does not have time to follow the subtitling. It’s the actor’s job to bridge that. That’s why I also expect my actors to live in the moment to capture change in themselves and in the spectator.

- By the way, how much do the Hungarian audience buy for the interactive theater?

- Pretty much. By the way, I don’t poke the spectator, there’s no aggression in interactivity, I don’t pour ketchup on them, we communicate at a given moment, in a given space, through a given topic. We are already at the eightieth performance with Leonce and Lena. Anyway, we have a large number of performances and we work with a fixed repertoire. And we have three variations for performing venues.

- Earlier it was the Bárka. Was it easy to say goodbye?

- Yes, it is very easy. I spent a long time there. While I was a member there, I lived a double life between the Bárka and my own company, Maladype, but even then I basically lived for Maladype. My team worked at a different pace than the company of Bárka. We were spinning at a different speed and we were lucky because when Krétakör ceased, the leaders of Thália invited us to the Studio. It only took a year, but I had to go down that road then. We had to build our own place. Anyway, as I see it, many great theater thinkers get there at some point in their lives to create in the intimate conditions of a “home” theater.

- Do you like this environment?

- Oh, very much! It's very good for me to come in here.

- What about Budapest?

- I love Budapest the most at night. Night covers the ugly and makes people more liberated. Paris and southern Spain are also important places, Paris is perhaps my favorite city, but I would go to Tibet or even Iran, where there are big spaces, endless spaces without people.

- Going back to your company: Saying goodbye to Bárka also meant parting from several people, only Kamilla Fátyol remained. Didn't that hurt?

- I didn't lose them. However, some of them have started families and I cannot afford family people. It is also the price of independence that you have to give up certain actors. Maladype continued on its own way, and people lent their knowledge and talent to it. Everyone had their time, shorter or longer distances. Change itself is natural in theater. Everyone is afraid of change.

- You do not?

- No, I love change. For me and for the theater I make change is everything. I expect a lot from my actors. They have to work with difficult texts, with complex texts. They are not used to it, they do not learn it. However, I challenge them. I studied abroad, I saw alternatives like Robert Wilson or Anatoly Vasilyev. They did not give answers, but taught them to ask. The constant questioning starts the process of finding answers within myself, reaching for things without a prescription - for Dante, in which nothing is guaranteed.

- Indeed, Dante: you started celebrating the anniversary of your company with Inferno. This is an important stage in your spiritual journey. Why don't you sit in Dante's place in the performance?

- Many have asked this. It’s about me, indeed, but one works with mediums. I don’t miss acting or directing anyway. I'm neither an actor nor a director. There are very few things anyway that would still interest me as an actor and I want to work with even fewer directors. Hamlet was a great gift. I was infinitely free there, even with the strict rules of the game. I boldly experimented with my body, my brain, with everything that I am. I learned a great deal through Hamlet. Now I have playmates who are also interested in the most beautiful thing, metamorphosis and dare to take risks. I finally found my partners in them.

- Is it that good now?

- Yes. I put these opportunities and tasks in their hands with a good feeling. A good example for this is Egg(s)Hell, where I don’t have a chance to help them. I trust them, but to do that I had to lay down the rules exactly, to draw the world within which they could move. They are not under supervision, I do not stress them. I can’t imagine playing in my company, I have to stay out. This is a delicate thing inside and out, I don’t want it. I can only accept from Woody Allen that he directs and plays at the same time, he is somehow authentic both inside and out.

- How much democracy is there within the company anyway? Can they use their own ideas?

- Of course, they can use it. At the same time, my concept is pretty definite. I’m already attending the first reading rehearsal that I know the piece from start to finish, I don’t want to use my actors to experiment. I want to steer, guide and help them. At the same time, you have to ruin your security yourself, and that’s where the biggest risk is. "Surprise me" and movement are important within the system. Form and content, on the other hand, are not enemies. There is a phobia of form and beauty in Hungary.

- When you found your actors, was the most important thing for you to be able to create with them like that?

- I was looking for good “material”. They cannot know this method because it is not taught to them. Good basic skills are important.

- When you look at them from the outside like that, do you feel they’re achieving what you wanted? I’m talking especially about Dante’s Inferno.

- I have important topics to account for in life. I didn’t want to be a traitor myself. There were those who started out as revolutionaries with radical thoughts in their heads, and yet they became fossils of the system they wanted to overthrow. I want to avoid this. Such an adaptation of Dante can help me. In the depths of Hell, when confronted with Lucifer, the decision is whether one becomes a traitor. I don’t want to look back at what I did frozen in ice at the age of sixty. I want to be strong, courageous and risk-seeking even then, surrounded by people who believe in the same. Theater isn’t a dead genre, but some make it dead, and that makes me terribly angry. They reduce it, they make it down, they make primitive gestures towards the spectators, even though they are not stupid.

- When you were preparing for the performance with the company, were you watching movies, pictures, listening to music, which evoked the atmosphere of hell that helped in the creative process?

- There was even a cartoon, we watched an Inferno cartoon with drawn monsters. But we also saw the movie Dante’s Peak. We also listened to Liszt, of course. Awareness is an important requirement, but processing and rewording are even more important. Dante gains a lot of impressions that make him change himself, he understands that he has to live, he has to come back after his own hell, but in the meantime something has changed radically. If Zéno does it well [Zénó Faragó, in the role of Dante - ed.], His voice will tremble there.

- The performance is very intense, it takes a lot of discipline to change everything in a matter of moments, you have to be present in the moment. How could you solve this with civil actors?

- Obviously, it was my job to keep the concept. They worked with great humility. Andi (Andrea Ladányi, in the role of Andrea Ladányi, Vergilius - ed.) said that she had never seen such a disciplined choir, even though she had worked with a lot of dancers and choristers. I had to convince them, but for that, it’s essential that I believe in what I’m doing. If they succeed, they will throw themselves in it, as they are also there to create something good, to participate in it.

- In the Dante play, you used Babits' text and Ádám Nádasdy's fresh translation at the same time, putting the snippets quoted from Babits in the mouth of Andrea Ladányi (Vergilius). Why did you choose this solution?

- Vergilius is the past, he is archaic, he is knowledge, an archaic added text is something that suits him the most . Originally, Ilona Béres would have been Vergilius, who herself embodies the authenticity that is in decline. It’s almost impossible to find someone similar to her, but unfortunately she became ill. I couldn't risk her health. Vergilius, the leader, had to be formulated by a personality who is authentic, who communicates, who believes that the power of the spoken word is enough. Andrea Ladányi is someone who can do that, she doesn't want to meet anyone’s expectations. I'm fantastically happy with her.

- Please talk about the cathartic scene when Lucifer, frozen in ice, caressing his Judas in the depths of hell!

- It’s a Pieta scene, a cruel flick, an evident code. I don’t want to explain, the interpretation has to happen in the spectator. It’s not my job to serve the stupidity. I have to irritate, poke the spectator to be angry, to feel something, to feel like arguing, to talk about it. In that scene, both characters are me, just as Dante is both characters as he even patterned all the characters about himself. The embracing and repelling, Judas and Lucifer. I (or you) are Dante, writhing between a profane and a saint. The choice is ours, it is a personal responsibility in life. The other thing is destructivism, which is incomprehensible to many. For example, when we draw a mandala in sand and then sweep it away. Many do not understand this because art, attention, and communication lack generosity.

- Hölderlin’s Empedocles was the piece that drew my attention to you, a brilliant work of art, perhaps the best I’ve ever seen on stage.

- Yet half of the critical class withdrew. They didn't want to slow down and watch. It was unacceptable to them that they thought it had no story and did not have the quiet depth that it would have needed to receive it. It was a terrible effort for the actors in Empedocles to move slowly and speak quickly meanwhile. This is terribly difficult. I’ve always been excited about the genre of motionless movement. Of course, they didn't really know what to do with it. That’s why I staged Ostrovsky's The Tempest afterwards. I did the story there, but like never before, no one before. I put it all together in a studio, with spotlights that illuminated the performance live. I used the music of Leos Janácek's opera for all this. I have always been interested in the relationship between text and music. But there was no culture for that! Not even among those who call themselves analysts.

- Are you listening to criticism anyway?

- No. The stupidity is making me terribly furious. I was also disappointed in many young people who started out as being comets, but they also lined up. There is not much real communication either. The way so many talk about theater is incomprehensible for me many times. Theater needs to be made risky and bold, experimenting. For example in the case of Dante they were outraged by limited shapes we show, but it's a geometric work! I didn't invent that.

- What else inspires you?

- I always dream and I remember all of them. I use my dreams and my memory is excellent. The actors can turn out of their world, that I always remember what I asked them to do. It also makes them feel safe, but it is difficult to conform to this coordinate system.

- Can you usually make the concepts, the dreams become reality?

- For the most part, yes. I never had to compromise. I never had to work with an actor I didn’t want to, or direct a piece I didn’t want. If something didn't quite work out, it did not depend on my will, but on my knowledge, then and there I was not yet prepared for it.

- Isn’t it tiring as a company leader that in addition to directing, you are the face, the hand, the heart, with all the good and bad consequences of that?

- It’s hard but not tiring because I have a lot of joy in it. I’m a father figure, I know, but I have friends in the company, not my service staff. That's good. There was a time when I overtook myself, pampered them, but things turned around. We now combine conscious, purposeful work with permissive, loose, light, improvisational and risky elements.

- Do both of these feel casual for you?

- Of course. At the age of twelve I lost everything, my homeland, my friends, after that I had nothing to lose. I have no respect for authority. I don't care about the canon. I'm not scared or stressed. As a teacher I rather prefer to talk, to stimulate the students to think, I want to see personalities, something.

- When did you decide you wanted to do theater?

- I didn't want to do theater. I wanted to laugh a lot, to have a good time, that was the plan, but life drove me to the theater, because there was joy and clowning in it too. Then I did the Conservatoire in Paris and learned the method there. However, I did not lose this joy; if that would be the case, it would be over.

- How would your 17-18 year old self like you now, at the age of 33?

- I didn’t lose that young self of mine, I’m the same as I was when I was six. I'm as "evil" as I was then. I’ve always wondered how to get people out of their usual frames. I still do that.

Anna Nikoletta Nagy, kultblog.hu, 2011

Translation by Zsuzsanna Juraszek

The Maladype Theatre is ten years old. The company celebrates its anniversary with Dante’s Divine Comedy. We talked about the first part, the performance of Inferno with director Zoltán Balázs.

- Why did you choose Dante’s huge work to think about the ten years you lived with Maladype?

- Because at the heart of this large-scale travel story is the author himself, Dante, who, as a self-righteous and dedicated person, sets high standards for himself and his then current environment. Its creative path is a road lined with depths and heights, and going down to hell is inevitable. Ten-year-old Maladype, like Dante, has consistently followed its path throughout, striving to be an independent company capable of redefining itself in all circumstances. “Over-the-counter” authors like Weöres, Ghelderode, Genet, Hölderlin or Wyspianski are no strangers to us. Dante's authorial behavior, the worldview and language of his Divine Comedy, fits well into our repertoire, as artistic and poetic texts have long been natural sources of our stage language. The space of Trafó meant the main challenge for us, because compared to our permanent performing venue, Maladype Base - which is a civic apartment with white walls and natural light conditions in Mikszáth Square - we have to play Inferno between the black walls and a stage space illuminated by spotlights. In recent years Maladype got far away from these types of artistic spaces, so it’s especially challenging to rediscover and “settle in”. As a director, I’ve had the opportunity to work in a wide variety of theater spaces, but I’m really happy with Maladype’s own playground, the Base, where I can rehearse in an environment free of classic theatrical traditions every day, close to people’s everyday lives. The consequence of this close relationship with the audience is that we can work with twenty-five volunteers and civil actors in Inferno.

- Maladype Base hosts full-day workshops on Sundays called the Free Academy. Can we say that now you take the stage with your own audience?

- Not really, as these civil actors are not the same as those who attend the Free Academy. We have a wide variety of spectators: those who have come to the open rehearsals of King Ubu, those who have attended the Free Academy, and those who have been loyal supporters of the company for years. The civils who are playing with us in Inferno have applied for an audition we announced three months ago; we were looking for enterprising people who would like to be “sinful souls” in our upcoming performance entitled Inferno. A lot of people applied, but in the end only twenty-five civils got a place, because together with the five Maladype actors, they form a chorus of thirty people during the game, which exactly matches my original concept. Since I usually have pretty definite ideas about my upcoming performances, the volunteers also had to follow precise directing and choreographic instructions. They worked with discipline and great devotion, which is necessary and essential for this teamwork.

- How did you select the volunteers?

- We selected primarily based on the condition of the applicants: imbalance problems, memory impairment, coordination deficiencies, etc. We soon also screened out those who could not distinguish their right hand from the left. Older and younger people are playing with us in the performance, for whom we have to take equal responsibility. I considered it very important that in Inferno real people should “being punished” because in my reading, Dante meets figures in the underworld who still have a great zest for life. Each of them longs for Dante to bring news about them to the world of the living.

- Andrea Ladányi was given the role of Virgil, how did you choose her?

- Originally it was meant to be played by Ilona Béres, with whom I had agreed on the role of Vergilius a year ago. At the time, at the beginning of Maladype, we worked together wonderfully in Theomachia, and I was really looking forward to the opportunity to work together again. After Kronos, who was the protagonist of Weöres' play, it was not easy to find a role for Ilona that could be a worthy offer for her in the case of another work together. When I decided that we would mark our jubilee with Dante’s Divine Comedy, I immediately called her with the role of Vergilius, and she happily said yes. Unfortunately, Ilona's health has been shaken ever since, so we were unable to begin the rehearsal process together. After that, I had very little time left to find the exceptional personality who could authenticate the figure of Vergilius with her own person. I saw Andrea Ladányi in The Visit and I thought she was fantastic. She is a very straightforward, lean, but sensitive personality who, as evidenced by her own life and art, is able to lead a man who still has a lot to learn and who needs a true master in the process. Andrea is a real master. And Zénó Faragó, who plays Dante, is a real student.

- In the person of Zénó Faragó, you assigned the lead role of the evening to an actor who has recently joined the Maladype Theatre.

- I chose him because he is young, dynamic and remarkable, he looks very much like Dante on the outside as well. I first worked with him in Timisoara on the Return of Ulysses, and I saw an extraordinary opportunity in him, as also in Erika Tankó. Now they are both members of the company. Since we’ve been working together for a year now and I see that the self-digestive processes in Zénó have started and now these seem to come together, I decided to entrust him with Dante’s figure. He is a curious figure who wants to know, to face. At the bottom of Inferno, frozen in ice, Lucifer tears Cassius, Brutus, and Judas, the three traitors. Judas is a symbolic, unavoidable figure that a determined creator must meet or face sooner or later. You have to ask yourself if you want to be Judas yourself. Do you want to be a traitor and a denier of the principles, ideas, goals, and plans you set for yourself at the beginning of your career and in which you ever believed with your full being. Do you want to see yourself frozen in the ice, or can you dodge the traps waiting for you in time? That's what this trip of Dante is all about.

- You also use two translations in the performance: the classic work of Mihály Babits and the translation of Ádám Nádasdy finished for the sake of the performance.

- The language and wording of the translation of Mihály Babits and Ádám Nádasdy give the verbal tension and excitement of the performance. Andrea Ladányi speaks “Babits” as Vergilius, and the other actors speak “Nádasdy”. In addition to the two translations, guest texts by Thomas Mann and Paolo Santarcangeli can also be heard. Dante’s work is basically a narrative text, full of self-reflections that we, according to our concept, had to dramatize and supplement with various scenic and acoustic solutions to turn it into more direct and vivid material during the performance.

- Kornél Mogyoró and Ákos Kerényi will play various percussion instruments and two Japanese taiko drums.

- I have always considered the relationship between text and music important, the symbiosis of the two gives the rhythm, score and unique composition of Maladype’s performances. Just as space and time have a musicality, so human speech and music have a temporal and spatial extent. Geometric enjoyment. Whenever I thought of Inferno, I always heard the pounding of huge Japanese drums in my head.

- The silence of the soundproof hell, from which the wailing sound is not heard, and the deafening inner throbbing of the huge drums can create a great tension...

- There is always a lot of hustle and bustle in the human mind, between the “soundproof walls”, accompanied by many small voices, encouragement and instruction. Inferno is the mental restlessness. We all know Rodin’s Gate, at the top of it the famous figure of the French sculptor, the curled up Thinker, looking for the frontier of thought. To set the human mind in motion, to free its spirit, is the bravest, greatest, but also the most dangerous thing. Dante made an attempt on this in his work. In our performance, we don’t want to compete with the crowds of Bosch images or the sight of horror movies, sci-fi, our vision is a clearer, people-centered game with a worldview of Leonardo.

Anna Magda Fehér, ellenfeny.hu, 2011

Translation by Zsuzsanna Juraszek