The performing group of The Suit try not a smaller challenge to do than put on stage the South-African writer’s Can Themba’s work on stage as a jazz-opera. Even the basic story is full of tension, but the natural differences of the two music genres and the surprisingly well working mixture of them, can square it all.

On the Open-Air Stage of Városmajor during the warm-up conversation, Ganga Tsengiwe, the Hungarian ambassador of the South-African Republic, talked about the forms, how oppression has appeared in Sophiatown, in the outskirts of Johannesburg, in the 1950s. By putting the performance into a political and historical context, even before the beginning can lead its interpretation, but one of the magics of The Suit is that the story can be interpreted on its own without it: that way, another important and difficult topic, the oppression inside family can be put into the middle. However, it is even more exciting, if we put the two next to each other, as that way the complicated political processes can be seen to be reflected in a micro atmosphere, which is easier to interpret, which grows the weight of all human gestures. And it even highlights the fact, that human games after all are not different from the political ones – and wise versa.

There is game too and fight as well: it turns out that Matilda (Csilla Radnay) has a lover, because her husband, Philemon (Barna Kelemen Bányai) strikes her with an unnatural punishment: from now on she has to treat the suit, which her lover has left there, as it must be a guest. Matilda, who sings at the beginning with confident femininity, slowly loses her shining, and herself too with it. She takes the Suit into her lap, hesitantly feeds it, which for the first time during the history of the stage versions of the short-story, the actor, who performs the lover, in this case Ferenc Fehér performs it too, with the covering of his face. The suit is there on all their social events, at all the meals, and reminds the wife all the time, to her act – she cannot hope, that at a point her husband must be satisfied with this punishment and their life can return to their normal way. For Barna Kelemen Bányai’s Philemon, seemingly nothing is enough: he still seethes on his own, his shape and movements are tight, he does not get wider in the place too, he mostly moves in one spot – he himself, cannot get out of this spiral of revenge, which has been generated by him, and that way it catches him more and more. As it usually happens, he realises it only when it is too late.

The set, which was designed by Zoltán Balázs, consciously limits the place, and that way the already narrowed focus becomes even thicker. The set has more functions, its elements, which can be turned here and there, gives some playfulness and many possibilities for “hiding”, which is the returning element of the performance. The husband is hiding, as well as the lover, and after a while, the wife is too – they are hiding from each other, from themselves, from the world. The performers give place for the association, and we can take it by words, as the place and the happenings are tightly but not obviously connected to each other – for example during Matilda final solo, when she closes herself into the prison of the elements of the set, which are moved here and there. But not only the set, the costumes are also in continuous dialogue with the actions (costume designer: Daniella Sovány), and it is connected finely to the African roots of the story too.

The performers do not have an aim to make an adaptation, which is loyal to the place or the time, on the dresses only some colourful patterns refer to the African style. Matilda’s costume is especially interesting: as the oppression becomes stronger towards her, there are more and more colours and patterns on her dresses – she seems to try sign that way, that there is a problem. When at the peak point of Philemon’s vendetta, we can listen to again Matilda’s song, her husband is the one, who gets the colourful headscarf off the destroyed woman, he opens her hair. She seems to have lost the control over her clothes too.

Adrián Kovács composed the music of the performance, and I must admit, that he has done an excellent work. The lightness and softness of jazz counterpoints well the fixed nature of the opera, and two together can form a special musical world according to its atmosphere. The changings of tempo and rhythm can follow beautifully the actions, which can be seen, and the active nature of the music can always offer something new to our ears. Humour gets its place too, and that way the sounds, which follow the activities, for example of the yawning, can fix into this unique sounding, which base is given by live music (orchestra: András Szép, Benedek Kárpáti, Szabolcs Dörnyei / Balázs Rodek, Balázs Rabóczki, Tamás Gyányi). The libretto is Zoltán Balázs’ work, and the characteristic of the text, which can be unusual for the first time, is that the characters many times talk about themselves in third person singular, as they would narrate their situation, what has happened to them by viewing it from outside. The text is in English, we can follow the happenings in Hungarian only with the subtitles, but we do not need it many times, even when the viewers do not or only a little bit understand English version: the impressions, which are given by the music, the performances of the actors, especially Csilla Radnay’s can lead the viewers by hands. Radnay performs wonderfully not only with her face and body, but with her singing voice too. She can express punctually and understandably all the depth and highness, the wide scale of the suffering and oppressed woman’s feelings.

Zoltán Balázs’ staging connects many elements, which can work well on their own too: the special music, which defines the basics of the performance, the stable performances by the actors, the associative place, the costume, which operates with fine references, they all can become parts of this puzzle. That is why, it is a shame that the role of the Suit – however, it is a good idea, that it is performed by a dancer, who can express so much with his body – cannot take a precise shape. The performance can hardly use this new thing, which remains in the background that way, and does not seem to be such a great thing, as it was mentioned by the performers before. In spite of the encouragement of the free association, the viewers with the sense of lack are looking for in the love-political triangle of the wife, husband and the Suit, the exact place of these later ones, and those gestures, which can tell something about the deeper layers of relationship between the characters and the piece of clothes. However, one piece of the puzzle gets lost, the whole thing can be seen clearly.

Júlia Prizakovics, Revizor Online, 2026

(translated by: Veronika Fülöp)

From the short story by the South-African Can Themba, The Suit, using the adaptation by Mothobi Mutloatse, Zoltán Balázs and Adrián Kovács have created a disturbing jazz-opera, with Csilla Radnay, Barna Kelemen Bányai and Ferenc Fehér’s performances, which give us important experience.

In connection with Zoltán Balázs’s performances the surprise is not a new thing, as he always creates his performances as some kind of individual trials, he is not afraid of making experiments. It is not different in case of The Suit, after its premiere at the end of June in Bánk, his performance can be watched on the Open-Air Stage of Városmajor. As the director has said it, during the introducing conversation before the performance: he is interested in the extremes.

The basic work, the short story was written by the South African Can Themba. The jazz-opera, titled as The Suit, was born with the usage of it, of and Mothobi Mutloatse’s adaptation, the composer of which is Adrián Kovács. The performance has benefitted from this construction, which has many layers, as the layers can intensify each other.

The location of the story of The Suit is Sophiatown, which is one part of the town of Johannesburg, which was ruined by the apartheid movement in the 1950s. The main character of the story is Philemon (Barna Kelemen Bányai), who has been cheated by his wife, Matilda (Csilla Radnay). Meanwhile, the husband has found out a very devious punishment, so that the left suit of the lover (Ferenc Fehér), she has to treat during their everyday life as a presented guest, for example she feeds it, pampers it, practically he closes her together with the ominous suit. The great ingenuity of the performance is that the title giver piece of clothes in this version is performed by a dancer. The idea, which was a weird thing at the beginning, has gradually become an extreme, unbearable abuse.

The set, which consists of stands, which have forms of human spine, is also created by Zoltán Balázs. The orchestra of five members is led by Andrán Szép. First, they seem to be two mismatched musical genres, the opera and the jazz meet in this performance. But fortunately there are not any forced or contrived things in it, we can talk about some kind of new dimension, new quality instead. The language of the performance is English, the libretto has been made also by Zoltán Balázs. (The performance can be watched later in Bánk in the METTRIN Arts Centre, then it will be taken on an international tour.)

Csilla Radnay has proved many times, her presence on stage is extraordinary and she can sing virtuosically, she handles with confident technique the changes of music and genres. Barna Kelemen Bányai is her worthy partner, who as Philemon is a lover and a cruel one at the same time, he is the cunning abuser too. Ferenc Fehér, who performs the suit, can raise the piece of clothes into a vivid character, however, he can be presented in reality, with his movements or some gestures.

They have put into the jazz-opera three original South African songs too, which have had many remakes too: The Lizzy, Lizzy, the Rosie My Girl and the Malaika. The meaning of the latest one is Angel, lovers call each other many times that way in Africa. It is a sad love song. It is about a poor young man, who cannot get married with his “Angel”. Miriam Makeba the South African singer has made this song world famous, and it is well-known with the remake of Boney M and Angélique Kidjo too. I can risk telling, that nobody has managed to sing it with that kind of sensitivity and dramatic power as Csilla Radnay did it in the Városmajor. Meanwhile the two sides of the installation, which form a spine, she has been closed onto herself slowly. The drama, which unfolds slowly, by the end has become cathartic, however it is about nothing else just us, and our innermost, most cherished secrets.

Gyula Balogh, Népszava, 2026

(translated by: Veronika Fülöp)

There are genres, which I try to avoid, and there are those, with which I can be chased away from the world. If I think about opera, then I am sure that it worth following the text either from a book, or reading a projected subtitle, so far, the smart glasses have not been there to be able to become part of the performance, however I would enjoy this fusion very much. The jazz is the other one, which pushes the cacophony to the limit, so in the long run I cannot handle it. Here a question rises, why I went to the Open-Air Theatre of Városmajor to watch the performance of The Suit, which was performed as the part of the competition programme of Szemle Plusz.

The co-production of METTRIN and Maladype has been directed by Zoltán Balázs. He uses the adaptation by Mothobi Mutloatse from the Can Themba’s classical short story, according to Léna Megyeri’s translation.

Philemon (Barna Kelemen Bányai) is the loving husband and the good working man with bitter humour in the Sophiatown part of Johannesburg. His wife once worked as a singer, but since their marriage she has been the bored housewife. One they the husband caught Matilda (Csilla Radnay) in their home, but instead of getting divorced or quarrelling with her, he has punished the woman in a grotesque way. He treats the suit (Ferenc Fehér), which her lover has left behind, as an honourable guest and he wants his wife to do the same. The days go on, the situation becomes more and more grotesque, when they take the piece of clothes for a walk or during the common dinner, Matilda has to feed it. When the wife finds a hobby for herself, there is a gleam of hope that the torturing days of their everyday life would be finished.

All of these are happening in a vacuum. Because of the South African background of The Suit, behind the personal conflict a much bigger social reality can be found, because Sophiatown was the multi-coloured and culturally vibrant part of the town of Johannesburg, which was eliminated violently during the apartheid movement, its inhabitants were relocated. During a story, in which Philemon has deprived Matilda gradually from her freedom, it is hard not to recognise the parallels of the mechanism of power. The oppression rarely starts with one single prohibition. The rules are changing slowly, the control is normalized, the borders are pushed on gradually, up until the victim herself has become the part of the formed system. The relationship between Philemon and Matilda has become the miniature model of it, in which the home has become the society, the husband has become the ruler.

Human nature is rather strange. There are stereotypes, which have been written down in connection with our behaviour, but the individual and the psyche can overwrite it well from time to time. It is said sometimes that there are people with Latin and Southern temperament, who snap up, who are loud, who are intense, who express their feelings spectacularly and do not take care of their surroundings, while they also chase away the observers too. The private sphere does not really exist to them, they privately define what concerns them, but the community has got used to it, so inside the nationalities it does not cause any disruption. Anyway, others use consciously the shyness of the given nationalities, and they succeed by embarrassing the others, because they try to escape from the situation and sooner let anyway. But that silent type also exists, which does not do any mess, but uses a calm voice, and rises higher fear in his surroundings. It is a common characteristic anyway, as the aim is to make feel the fact, that something is not good, it is not comfortable to the other one.

In case of cheating the situation is the same, if we catch our partner with her lover, it can raise many kinds of reaction from us, it can be shouting, fighting, jealous invitation for a duel, physical activity, divorce, killing, suicide, lethargy, revenge, the palette is very wide. Anyway there is that type of people, who answers with fatal silence, who goes back, who becomes reserved and keeps distance, but does not let it go anyway. The love and hate can cause an inner conflict and result in the fact that they express possession in connection with their partners, which can turn to be frightening or even abusive one. In case of The Suit it starts with a little strange thing, which turns to be a serious moral terror and then finally to be abusive relationship. This punishment can be seen as educative or even adequate, however, in viewers’ mind appear those kinds of possibilities, that they have already got used to. It can be forgiveness, divorce with quarrels, the war of plates, apology, the blaming of each other, the cheating as a revenge, the showing of dirty things or even physical hurting can be mentioned there, which seems to be ordinary, and sometimes accepted and lawful. Obviously today we handle it differently, the physical punishment does not seem to be adequate form of behaviour, but with time even mental abuse or terror has lost its usual nature.

Philemon of The Suit, in spite of it, becomes the archetype of the oppressive system, as the first grotesque fantasy, the humanisation of the piece of clothes has become complete in reality with Matilda’s dehumanisation. First the nature of punishment can be understood, seemingly the husband chooses another way, he does not shout, quarrel or become aggressive. But as the happenings go on, it gets new interpretation. The violence on its own, as we talk about it nowadays many times, cannot mean just the physical punishment or the restriction of some rights. This manifestation is more about control, but we cannot see the nowadays so fashionable narcistic version, but the form of psychological control and mental abuse instead. It is a harmless grotesque situation, which becomes an everyday routine, from which it is unable to escape. It becomes torture, which is more than a lesson or punishment, and becomes an endless circle, from which they are unable to get out.

The present staging of The Suit can do what only a few people can think, as we can see those kinds of ways of behaviour, which are about the question of sin, atonement, apology, abuse and forgiveness at the same time. We often forget this last one during our present, or we taste the word with negative connotation, disgustedly. It is interesting especially because, we do not think about which is shown in the performance, this way of thinking can poison our own personalities too, and we cannot even recognise, we ourselves have become abusers. From our own points of view, our truth exists, and we do not feel our acting abusive at all, but all of these are just because, we are close to it, we cannot get out of it. When the irreversible happens, it must be too late. It may be, but just may be, that it is good to step back a little and get a view on it all, and do not concentrate on just our own point of view.

Csilla Radnay and Barna Kelemen Bányai’s voices are fantastic, the energy and chemistry can pulse between them during the performance. The set (Zoltán Balázs) is grotesque and practical at the same time, it can show us the surrounding, which it would like to: an elegant circular place that is full of instruments of torture. The costumes (Daniella Sovány) are creative and enviable. The perfection of the music (composer: Adrián Kovács, music director: András Szép) can be ruined by one aspect, and this is the sound system, in case of the not so perfect setting, the understanding of the lyrics can be reduced to zero. This is the only reason why jazz-opera can be problematic (András Szép, Benedek Kárpáti, Szabolcs Dörnyei / Balázs Rodek, Balázs Rabóczki / Zsolt Magda, Tamás Gyányi), as both of them can over dominate the ears, so the fact, that they can be enough on their own, according to the place and the technicians’ abilities both of them can mean a serious drawback too.

Emerald Dragon, Smaragd Sárkány kulturális blogja, 2026

(translated by: Veronika Fülöp)

On the coast of Lake Bánki, the METTRIN Arts Centre can be found in a wonderful surrounding: here they performed The Suit by Can Themba, put on stage by Zoltán Balázs. The composer of the Hungarian premiere is Adrián Kovács, the performers are: Barna Kelemen Bányai, Csilla Radnay and Ferenc Fehér. The story is a cruel one, however the music, the movements are shockingly beautiful, all wrapped in the jewellery box of the set.

This new musical work, which blends elements of jazz with classical opera traditions and is based on an adaptation of a short story by one of world literature's best-known South African author (Mothobi Mutloatse) and on a libretto (Zoltán Balázs), and it is a collaboration between METTRIN and Maladype and will serve as the opening performance of the Louis Armstrong International Jazz Festival.

Director Zoltán Balázs, following in the footsteps of Peter Brook—who was the first to stage Themba’s masterpiece in Europe—promises a gradually unfolding, associative performance that defends the order of the irrational universe through the power of humour and the absurd, and watching the premiere of The Suit, he has managed to fulfil it.

Cruel game

The story of The Suit is set in Sophiatown, a neighbourhood in Johannesburg that was destroyed by the apartheid regime in the 1950s. It is hard to explain how, but from the tiny elements of set, the patterns of costume (costume designer: Daniella Sovány), the smoky saxophone music, we can find out, that we are not in Europe. All of it is strengthened by the fact, that the characters speak and sing in English, and sometimes we can hear some sentences from them even in Zulu language.

The main character of the story is Philemon, (Barna Kelemen Bányai) the dutiful husband who catches his wife with a young man. Instead of confrontation and separation, he forces Matilda (Csilla Radnay) to treat the suit left behind by her lover (Ferenc Fehér) as a guest of honour: feed it, talk to it, lay in bed in the evenings. He cannot put aside this “game” even when they have company, and while the others detect it as a funny whim in the life of the couple, they are slowly being ruined by it.

The prison of revenge

According to the director’s idea, the powerful and tragic story deals with the topics of love, betrayal, revenge, dignity and oppression. It reveals the psychological effects of a system, which refuses the humanity and freedom from its members. The actuality of the play, which is full of surrealistic elements, are given by the domestic violence and social division.

Composer, Adrián Kovács blends Afro-jazz rhythms of marabi, mbaganga, and kwela with European and Hungarian sounds, which support that disharmonious world, which the director and author have dreamt about. Philemon is a musician himself too, and once his wife has musical ambitious, but somehow it has been pushed into the background in her life – maybe this is the reason why she was looking for other excitements.

Barna Kelemen Bányai’s sad, cheated saxophone player, closes himself into the devilish helmet of his own revenge – the cage is expressed by the compact set too, which has more functions, as we have got used to it in Zoltán Balázs’ performances. The once wonderful singer, who is performed by Csilla Radnay get more and more powerless, as the weight of revenge is pulling her down. There is no chance for forgiveness and reconciliation, the two actors’ singing can express shockingly the wild power of emotions in the deep.

Live music

The Suit is the gem of South African literature, which has been translated into several languages and adapted in various forms, including an adaptation by Mothobi Mutloatse and Barney Simon at the legendary Market Theatre in Johannesburg in 1994, and later in 2004 at the Théâtre des Bouffes du Nord in Paris, in a French translation by Peter Brook, Marie-Hélène Estienne, and Franck Krawczyk. The dramaturg of the Hungarian performance is Zsolt Lukács.

The music in The Suit is not the background but it is a live material. The musicians: piano András Szép, percussion instruments Benedek Kárpáti, guitar Szabolcs Dörnyei and Balázs Rodek, saxophone and flute Balázs Rabóczki and Zsolt Magda, bass Tamás Gyányi. Following its premiere in Bánk at the end of June, this multidisciplinary production will also be presented in Gyula at the World Literature Classics Festival and in Budapest as part of the Városmajor Open-air Theatre, Szemle Plusz competition program.

Noémi Sümegi, Index, 2026

(translated by: Veronika Fülöp)

....It is an unworthy parallel to mention Schiller on the same level with Herczeg, but here the story is again about a ruler, who is betrayed, left alone, feels himself lonely between his partners. In this case the author has not forgotten to write the characters. The king, II. Philip is an unlimited tyrant, he does not have to be afraid of losing his empire, but is, as his loyal one, who he rose to this position because of his honest and incorruptibility, has planted the phobia of all tyrants in him: the idea of freedom. Posa is the naivest positive intriguer of drama literature, he gets involved hard into the family and governmental business, which makes everybody fall, the queen, who loves his son-in-low, her previous fiancé (they use queen here too, they are unable to correct István Vas’ half a century old mistake), Carlos gets lost from the point of freedom and love, the lover of the king, Princess Eboli, whose vanity is hurt, Posa, who sacrifices his life, and the king himself, who is emotionally robbed at all. There is only one winner: The impersonal Grand Inquisitor, who stands in for absolute ideological power.

Zoltán Balázs directed a very amusing performance on the Maladype Base. We are sitting around a circular, staircase like podium, out of which an orange tree grows, designed by Judit Gombár. We don’t need to suspect allusions, in Schiller’s drama someone is sent to bring some oranges, which is hereby on hand, and once the king fills Posa’s mouth full with orange and this isn’t either symbolic. The actors are on stage most of the time, they perfectly use the stairs symbolising hierarchy, and even if they are not in a scene, sitting still, their body language refers to their relations with the others. Sometimes they leave the central podium behind, for example Philip shouts at his empire from the open window at Mikszáth Square, and Posa will be shot down in the window by snipers. Their performances are concentrated and intensive, Károly Kuna (II. Philip), Erika Tankó (Elizabeth), Zoltán Lendváczky (Carlos), Ákos Orosz (Posa), Gabriella Varga (Eboli), László Keszég (Alva) and Gyöngyi Balsek (Inquisitor) can all express the story with strong and clever interpretation and natural irony.

The sounds of Mikszáth Square and the Radio Station nearby somehow become parts of Goethe’s Egmont, which seems to be the continuation of Don Carlos in the same evening with the same performers. Of course it isn’t, after all it is. Posa’s Flemish idea of freedom is in Egmont’s hand, both played by Ákos Orosz. Egmont compared to the Schiller - type of hero is an ordinary person – we can call it a Shakespeare-like Goethe - whose only desire would be liveable freedom, if the dictatorship – appearing in the form of the Duke of Alva – was about to allow it. His arrest and imprisonment appear as daily news in the phone-in programme of the radio. Gabriella Varga and Gábor Jászberényi, the two presenters are sitting in front of a microphone, which is located where the orange tree grew before, they are talking about political actualities, giving us cooking tips and answering to messages they get from the audience while singing pop songs – very perfectly. The idea of freedom, death row, execution appear as commerce media events of our everyday life. It is a funny, devastating and true pamphlet.

Zoltán Balázs and Maladype have got it very well, and what is more important: they do it gorgeously.

Tamás Koltai, Élet és Irodalom, 2012

(translated by: Veronika Fülöp)

“Once there was a mister, / Because the law needs him - / Now there is a law, as he needs it / The mister needs it.” Today in Hungary all theatres should shout about it. If not everybody, but many of them do it – the Maladype has wrapped their shout into two performance with extreme power.

Schiller’s Don Carlos and Goethe’s Egmont have been performed almost at the same time: both of them area about II. King Philip’s country. Schiller made report from the king’s country, from Spain, while Goethe found the ideal topic in The Low Countries, which is oppressed by a tyrant. However, the Duke of Alva is the main character of both stories, the controversial, opportunist right hand of the king, an idea, which is reborn again and again, is the connection between the two plays, it has two figures: in Don Carlos it is Marquis de Posa, who criticizes the absolutism openly and with silly courage. In Egmont the main character, who leads a revolt against the Spanish, and stands in for the religious piece, he states the necessity of the freedom, equality, constitutionalism, justice and the abolition of tyranny, and even the democracy, which is above all.

This is the idea, which cannot be said enough time and loud enough in a democracy, which is built on thinner and more and more overused columns. There is no theatre, which can forget about it, when it can survive only if the mister needs the law about it, and this is the idea, which can connect the two performances of Maladype – which are played together and one by one too.

Zoltán Balázs, director very elegantly solve the question of “actualisation” in connection with the plays: he believes that the texts can speak on their own, and the actors tell them well interpreted, besides it he signs the contemporary nature of them only with some smaller and bigger signs. For example with Marquis de Posa’s (who refers to himself as the “civilian of the future) more modern, ordinary costume, the presence of an orange tree, as natural surrounding but it can be a political reference too, or the grotesque, radio reporters of Egmont, who always broadcast the happening – punctually only between the songs.

The two performances are as much different from one another as their surroundings too: in the royal court, Don Carlos, who is wandering with his rucksack in the chinaware shop of protocol. His performance is more ordered, text centralised, than in case of Egmont, on the other side of the barricade, he goes between the simple sons of the society, this performance is a wild, endlessly full of ideas element of a chain on the halfway between the prosaic and post-dramatic theatres. In the two performances not only the high level of the actors’ performances but their qualities are permanent: we can tell, that it is not about the performances, or even about the deep transformations, but it is about the extension of the actors’ own personalities. The viewers can have the feeling, that if they stood up from their chairs, and they would ask a relevant question from Ákos Orosz, who is ageing intensely as Marquis de Posa or Egmont, the actor remained in his role, but he could answer with arguments, which are not in the text. Or as it was not Erika Tankó, or the naïve lover of Egmont, Clara, but a third one, who has been formed of the two of them, who would stand for half an hour in her desperation, leaning to the frame of the window, without any movements. It is good that in the Base of Maladype, only a room is the place of the performance, and we are sitting only a metre or two away from the central circular bench (first, in the middle of it an orange tree is growing, then a studio of a radio): that way the sparks, which appear sometimes between the actors, can be caught discreetly. Erika Tankó (Queen Elizabeth) and Károly Kuna, the king have some pair fights to settle the power relations, during them, for example, when Tankó hits the tree, Kuna involuntarily jumps back. Or in case of Ákos Orosz’s Marquis de Posa and Tankó’s madam, whose mouth, which are full of the questions of existence, hardly reach each other, and from that point, when finally their hands reach each other (because in this performance Elizabeth seems to be in love with Posa and not with Carlos).

Zoltán Balázs also plays with the narrowness of the place of Don Carlos: during all scenes, everybody is – except for the Grand Inquisitor, who appears in the end – sitting around the tree, and who is in the scene in reality, according to the play, those stand up or at least change their positions. That way we can never be sure, that those, who should not, may be able to hear the happenings, what they are talking about: this uncertainty gives some excitement to the performance, the idea makes it elevate and makes it theatrical, that way, that it does not want to pretend the illusion, but trust in the viewers to create it.

In case of Zoltán Balázs’ Don Carlos, the focus it neither the love struggle, of the princes, who is in love with his stepmother, nor the tension between the king, who rightfully suspicious, and his close family, but Posa and Philip’s long argument. That picture is extremely strong and allows many interpretations, when the king tries to fill the marquis’ mouth with more and more oranges, while he predicts a new world order, and criticizes the present one. Posa and Carlos has a friendship, or something even deeper than it, and it becomes important from this point of view: to open the king’s eyes anyway, the important thing is to lead him toward the good way. Impressive, as Ákos Orosz so enthusiastically, meanwhile clearly and with punctual interpretation tells his text during the four and half an hour of the two performances: he gives the message that we can hardly recognise, when he is executed, as his idea has already been there permanently, everywhere.

Erika Tankó forms a very strong woman from Elizabeth; someone, who can rules the place without any words, if she wants to. That way, it is even more exciting, when she is deliberately weak, and pretends herself to be a fragile one, and she is, when even if not because of her aura but in a natural way, but from the royal status or position she can get about it. Károly Kuna’s Philip is an interesting figure: narrow-mindedness is far from him. He sees the things clearly, he is looking for the new effects, but – and it is frightening in connection with him, and those type of people with power, who he stands in for – he consciously chooses the “more tyrannical” solutions, and not in a predetermined way, because of the force of his royal position. Zoltán Lendváczky’s Carlos is empty-headed at the beginning, he seems to be a teenager, who risks everything – in his case the improvement of his identity is the most interesting one, as in front of us, this almost-man, who at the beginning of the performance, in the pose of a new-born baby, does not care about anything, becomes harder and a potential political man. Gabriella Varga, who performs the Princess of Eboli, who is in love with him, gives a woman, who is moving between extremities: from her naïve, enthusiastic lover, after the refusal, she becomes a petty, spiteful fury, who does not think about the result of her acts. László Keszég’s Alva here and in the Egmont too, is the eternal watcher, who moves only, when he has a punctual plan, he is hard to be influenced, and he is not led at all by his feelings. In case of Gyöngyi Blasek’s many smaller roles, the transformations are wonderful: she is equally authentic as a foolish child, an inquisitor, who has frightening authority, as a worrying mother and as a real retired one.

The lightness of Egmont after the weight of Don Carlos is almost refreshing – only almost, as the idea is the same in this case too, and the announcer of it is executed here too finally. Egmont is the inverted version of Don Carlos, but it show the two sides of the tyrannical measures and not of the coin, there they show the forming of decisions, here the endurance of the decisions. There the secretiveness of those, who are in the darkness, between great dangers, and the two of them can hardly stay together, here – by the broadcasting of the radio – the full and perfect openness without any secrets is what is characteristic. There the inner opponents, here they are from the outside. There the rigid strictness, here the joyfulness of the rebellious ones, their cocaine-filled parties, the chasing of the skirts. There everybody has still known accurately, that all pronounced words have their own results – here even during the execution, in the radio they are talking about the process of making squash stew.

All these laziness, civilian nature, weightlessness can be expressed perfectly by Gábor Jászberényi and Gabriella Varga’s duo in the radio, with their live performed Hungarian and international hits, and continuous gossiping. Of course, it gives a very special atmosphere to the performance, as there is not any so important monologue, during which we cannot listen to the FM of the Low Countries – the fizzing on the stage is unusual and exhilarating. However, they can work on the more important sentences, to make them hearable all the time, and they cannot get lost in the live-music.

The great amount of humour of course cannot make us forget, but finally even more emphasize the tragic side of the things: that a lazy cut of the power, can get the head of the rebellious one, while the resistance was the most important thing in his life, on which countries would be able to be built. We can only hope that the idea is similar to the manuscript in case of Bulgakov: if it is said once, it cannot be burnt of executed.

Bálint Kovács, Ellenfény, 2012

(translated by: Veronika Fülöp)

According to the most careful adjectives, it is an intensive theatrical experience, if the viewer can meet King Philip even if, the Spanish ruler is not on the stage. Other times the Duke of Alva is sitting in front of the viewers, and while a scene is going on behind him, Alva’s slowly raised pointing finger becomes a sign, then turns out that he just scratches his nose. Even the staring means attention, and if the viewers get closer with a metre, they could become the part of the happenings, and they were not been able to avoid it. They are touched by the breeze of action, when Philip kicks Carlos from himself, or follows him in a crouching way, as Egmont almost rapes Clara. Because all of these are happening in a distance of half of a metre, we can smell the sweat of the fighters, we can see the pushes of muscles, so it is a more sensitive experience. The Base of Maladype in reality creates a mercilessly close connection between the performers and the viewers. That way, in their performances of Don Carlos / Egmont, the plays by Schiller and Goethe, are connected not only by the idea of freedom, the failing wants, or the rebellion against despotism, but the showing from the merciless closeness: the fact that the passions have not got lost in the fog of the past times, but they are with us and hurt us.

It is four hours long, with two intervals, the great task of who knows how many hundreds of pages of traditional texts, can make moving the monumentality of the appreciated plays. The happenings take place in the permanent light of the white room on a central piece of set. Those characters of Don Carlos, who are not acting at the given moment, are sitting on a podium, which is combined by a circle shaped bench, they are presented as silent puppets, the performers refer to them, and when their turns come, they jump up vividly. With the mode of performance, which is adjusted to the tiny place, Zoltán Balázs, the director can speed the tempo up. There is not any in and out going, not any waving of flags, they do not have to reorganise the place after a tense moment, the story is going on without any brakes.

Judit Góczán, the dramaturg, speeds up Schiller long, slow lines by concentrating on the most important moments of the main characters and she can show us that way the excitement of the story. Only Posa and Philip’s dialogue becomes a little bit slower, many ideological backgrounds appear here, but of course, without any content, the play would remain naked. The rhetoric is indicated by the witty solution: while Philip is talking about that how can he imagine the success of his country in spite of Posa’s critic, the gives orange nicely to the marquis. In Judit Gombár’s set everything happens under the treetop of a wonderful orange tree, in the grove of Aranjuez, but those, who has more symbolic sense, can associate to the growing of tyranny. Finally, the orange garden of power becomes empty: the failed ones and the servants leaves the room, and leave the king on his own, in his heartbreakingly lonely room.

The intimate place makes the figures of Don Carlos with great arcs, pure. Actors, who speak beautifully leaves the pathos of iambus. Everything is a little bit more prosaic, they are not petty, but a little bit clearer, while the gear wheels of the relationship can the machine of great acts move. Examining from very close the sufferings of Don Carlos and the others, similar to follow the inner pain of a family. Zoltán Lendváczky performs a hyperactive Don Carlos, he is still an immature kid, who is suffering while trying to get love, he is friendly, he has not known why, but he would like to leave, and his conflict with Alva is more like a teenager like arrogance than hate. Károly Kuna, as King Philip is the worried father, who is moved by his responsibilities, there is something statue like, in his character, some lonely unhappiness, and some kind of bloodthirstiness at the same time, like in case of a Mayan god, when sometimes anger bursts out of him and Mari Benedek skirt like costume swishes on him. László Keszég’s Duke of Alva is a little bit less sharp, he is a darker figure, as he is watching respectfully, but motionlessly, with his gazing, big eyes like a crocodile that is looking for prey. Ákos Orosz’s Marquis de Posa has many colours, he acts by Carlos like an elder brother, he tolerates carefully and understandingly the young one’s outbursts, but he explains to Philip with the drive of a freedom fighter, and with resigned silence let Elizabeth reach his hand. According to the scene the queen’s heart, performing by Erika Tankó, would seem to be beaten for Posa and not for “her son”. Gabriella Varga shows Princess Eboli as an attractive and silly maid, while Gyöngyi Blasek’s Grand Inquisitor is heavy even with her airy figure, as a gloomy angel gets Carlos’ life to be protected from the king.

In the Don Carlos has already had something from the fate, but the other play of the evening, talks about failure, as it would be the necessary resulting product of the rebellious drive in any case. Egmont takes us into the confused German land, and the performance grabs mostly the subversion of the world, in a special performance. Everything is perfect and turned to be contemporary, the cut and got lines of Egmont work on more voices, next to the remaining, old-styled dialogues, we can listen to iconic, pop-songs, and they can strengthen sardonically the dramaturgical stress. The story is crammed into a shallow program of a music-radio. Gabriella Varga and Gábor Jászberényi comment on the happening like disc jockeys, and with their singing and guitar playing can give ironic double button to the heroic turns.

Ákos Orosz’s dishevelled Egmont is a very passionate hero, but he is not an ideal one, he is more a half shiny and half shabby anarchistic knight of a political cartoon, who would eats up not only the tyranny but the whole world, as dissatisfied he is. His nose is dusty because of cocaine, he would have sex with Erika Tankó’s young Clara in the hole of the window: if we like it, he can be told to be the real free man, so – he has to fail. The theorem is easy. László Keszég’s Duke of Alva and his son of Ferdinand by Zoltán Lendváczky, during a wonderful beatbox, can stop Egmont. There are not any chiselled fights. There are only sensible facts: the revolution, from home, watching from the window, turns out to be intrigue and failure, they are just speeches in the cells, and meanwhile the pop or the news are flowing from the radio. The best part is, when Egmont is waiting for the verdict, and the reporters broadcast it alive, they accept calling and messages that comment the happening with the same simplification, as we have got used to them. Gyöngyi Blasek’s mother, for example, talks about the squash stew, which the main hero ate last time... It is a definite gesture, as people’s sound reacts: how would we treat an Egmont today?

László Deme Sz., szinhaz.net, 2012

(translated by: Veronika Fülöp)

For almost an hour the Don Carlos performance of Maladype has been similar to the American teenager soap operas of the 2000s, to the Orange County: Carlos – leaves all the power behind – can think only about his love towards his step-mother, king Elizabeth, who however hard tries to avoid the prince’s heart outbursts, she cannot stand against it fully. The piquancy of the thing is not the fact, that Carlos’ lover’s dad is the wife of II. Philip, but the queen’s maid. Eboli on one hand is the lover of the king, but by the way, she is in love with his son. In this opaque coincidence of this love triangle, there is only one man outside the circle, for whom it is important what will happen with the people, while the whole royal house fights for their selfish aims: he is Marquis of Alva. When Marquis of Posa with his own total freedom and idealism stands in front of the megalomaniac king, then the storm of feelings stops: suddenly it is all about us.

Of course, it would be a generous degradation if we tell that the first hour of the performance, is nothing else just a soap opera, working with canned feelings. The feelings are added much more finely, reserved and discreetly, and all through the performance, crystal-clear interests drive the characters, in case of their formation, the troupe of Maladype can perform something elevated. Maybe it is not an exaggeration to tell that there is not any other theatres in the country, where all the actors so trustfully and on such a high level can perform and live on the stage at the same time.

Károly Kuna’s desperately frustrated shining gaze can express all mania of power, which comes from fear and instinctive jealousy and this gaze can tell everything about II. Philip – maybe those things too, which we do not want to know so much: what a ruler looks like from close, who cannot accept different opinion. Kuna’s king can remain human-like all through it: his hysterical outbursts and silliness come from the narrow-mindedness of the continuous fear. Gabriella Varga in the role of princess Eboli can understand almost by words all self-revelation in front of Carlos. The actress performs an obedient and self-confident maid, she deals with feelings reserved all through the performance, but when she finds in sweet face to face with the choice of her heart, she just throws on him the flirting, which is filled with fine sensuality. Varga has a good sense of rhythm, she keeps a parade of form, which comes from her inside, which gives a perfect base for Eboli’s later vendetta, which ruins everything. Erika Tankó’s Elizabeth is sensitive, she keeps balance between the sensuality and honesty, she flies from man to man – sometimes she is driven by her heart or noble aim, and she always remains woman that way, that she can even fall in love with Marques of Posa, who has not sense of these kind of ordinary things. Zoltán Lendváczky essentially from the tiniest gestures until the most basic signs of characters, is similar to a teenager, who is on the edge of growing up, who cannot accept that there are more important things on the world than the love affairs. He is always made to face up with it, and obviously he does not like it so much. He can accept his responsibility, only when it means his best friend’s life. László Keszég is loyal to the upper aim of power between all circumstances, he is a reserved and rigid Duke of Alva. Gyöngyi Blasek orders with easy superiority, she is the omnipotent representative of the Almighty, in the role of the Inquisitor.

Ákos Orosz’s Marquis of Posa subordinates everything to the upper aim, he is ready to sacrifice everything to be able to create a world, which is easy to live in by doing tricks with the ruler, or at least gets over him somehow. Posa fight for his ideas all through the performance, Orosz with very fine, human-like measures can get the individual needs, his selfless and pure friendship into his acts – it is another question, that in his case the individual and common interests are the same. Maybe it is not an accident, that he can stand in for all his ideas against the king with courage, freely, facing up with the unsure thing, which are on favour of humans in reality. The actor puts all his sentences into these few moments, which we all should claim here and now.

The king is deaf of course, the attention from him is condescension, it is a grace without content, without any arguments, the only thing, which he can do is to try to fill Posa’s mouth – and it is such a wonderful picture, when the king feels his opponent’s mouth with oranges. Nobody has to be afraid of interpreting this concrete thing in the easiest way, as the most important element of the performance is that the orange tree is not an easy allegory of Fidesz – the collecting of oranges can be a kind of displacement activity as well as the property of love games.

No matter how playfully and freely, but the actors, with the continuous moving of their gazes can fill the place, given by the set, which was designed by Judit Gombár and which is made of a wood-settee and an orange tree in the middle of the stage. Don Carlos can be so understandable and concrete by its elements, – which actuality is nicely emphasized by Mari Benedek stylishly made fashionable and cool costumes – it is easy to get lost in it. The problem is not the fact, that Maladype with Zoltán Balázs’ leading does not want to make a one-dimensional political statement, and it is even very likeable that the performers try to interpret the play itself (dramaturg: Judit Góczán). They put it into parallel with our present, but instead of it, the fact is that these parallels, the statements to us, in spite of the actors’ performance become very small from the point of view of the length of the performance (there is much unimportant information too, from which sometimes hard to get the important ones). Sometimes it can be felt, that the troupe changes Schiller’s original play, they could let more to the dramaturgical scissors. The motives, the concrete things, the sub-meanings, many times remain between two actors’ look – sensibly it is there, only for them, and for the viewers these are inaccessible.

Finally in the country, ruled under the sky of the orange tree another powerful man – meanwhile a woman – the Inquisitor states order, next to her the so far omnipotent-like king seems to be an easy runner-up – he even sacrifices his son to be able to keep the throne. The relationship between power and religion, however in this picture does not point over, the later one can freely play with the earlier one, while the earlier one covers himself with the later one. Anyway, it also makes the understanding easier, that the residents of the Orange County, in their own complexity, have not been strangers to us anymore, even if Marques Posa is not enough.

Attila Nyulassy, 7óra7, 2012

(translated by: Veronika Fülöp)

I do not know what is Egmont like without Don Carlos – sometimes the Maladype Theatre performs the two performances one after another, then one by one. I have experienced the previous one. After Don Carlos, Egmont starts with a special mood: while in our heads there are political fights of the previous performance, which are filled with storms of feelings. These are still working and the need in our heads to do something with it, then it all starts in the hole in the middle of the sofa – where there has been an orange tree so far – the live radio, which play Hungarian and international hits too, it talks about fights on streets, and reports on political speeches. All these will make the atmosphere in the flat at 2 Mikszáth Square, heart-warmingly revolutionary somehow. Thanks for the music, and the actors’ easier performance, which is built on effects, then even a possibility appears in our head, that Egmont is performed in front of us, in reality.

Let’s go through fast the technical problems: with nice words, we can tell that the acoustic of the Maladype Base is horrible, which the actors can speak through easily anyway, when a performance-like sized concert is nearby, then in spite of the routine, they are unable to be heard – as it has happened many times. But we have lost just some important sentences, or words, as during the performance the radio and the scenes can be heard parallel all through. We can hear a Republic hit and that dialogue, when the characters are talking about upcoming arrival of The Duke of Alva ans his troops at the same time. As the situation is not rosy here: while Clara is totally in love with Egmont, her mother wants to make her get married to Brackenburg, as the fate of her loved one is more than doubtful, as the Flanders, who are rebelling against the Spanish inquisition, are singing his name day and night. Maybe I do not have to tell that between Alva and Egmont the later one becomes the loser, he gets into jail, then ends on gallows – in spite of the fact that there cannot be any complaint in connection with his ability to make a compromise.

Egmont fights not against Philip but for a country, which is led between witty, humanist frames, where people are not deprived of their own freedom, where they do not try to lead them fanaticised by national, religious and other clichés. Egmont can be rebellious any way, he does not rebel at all, he has just his own principles, and he is searching for the possibilities of a better life – it is not accidental that he tries to make an agreement with Alva. He tries to ease the wall, to make the system not work as concrete, but should be built on people. All of Alva’s answers are concrete for it – their dialogue plays perfectly and reinterprets again and again Philip’s rural principles: the law is about power, not about people. It must be told to the society, how to be able to live. And it is not a possibility, but a compulsion. It is concrete.

The context is created mostly by the radio duet of Gabriella Varga and Gábor Jászberényi. They preform fake cheerfully, in a really so called sensationalist way with the text, which fills the performing time and has been written perfectly (there is actual politics, private opinion, comments through messages and everything, which can be listened to in a radio). The really special atmosphere is created by the live music: Jászberényi from one point of view can choose professionally and accurately between the accords of hits – it is a mixture of stylish and unstylish music. Meanwhile, Varga, who performs in the most natural way of the world Margit Pármai’s autotelic outbursts, can appear and sing as a real rock star. Her voice not only fills the place – which taking into consideration the stage of a size of a room, is not a very big challenge – but it sounds and fills everything, like we are on a concert – her sexy laziness is very impressive. Above it all, she shows us all the parties of Budapest, which are heavy of passions, and has a frustrated atmosphere.

In this world the games of power can go on. Zoltán Lendváczky’ William of Orange tries to learn the whole profession of the royal superiority with passionate innocence, but we can find also the doubt in the son of the prince of Alva, which the actor can add with fine over thinking during the dialogue of William and Egmont. László Keszég hold on to the character of the Duke of Alva with easy strictness, with cold precise attitude, he sees the aim all through the performance in front of him, he keeps working the right hand of the power, which become very dangerous because of his limited intelligence. The actor can mark it: Alva knows what he does. Gyöngyi Blasek is a meddler, she is a worrying mother, who cannot measure the circumstances, Erika Tankó, who performs her daughter, can performs Clara with endless desires, whose passion is not an item to buy: it comes from like and love in reality. Ákos Orosz gets again the role of critic of power, similarly to Marquis of Posa, Egmont is also ready to make compromise in favour of the greater aim – finally he is also killed. This time Orosz holds a much extreme basic situation, as Egmont’s self-awareness is mixed with some disillusionment and nihilism too – the unmeasurable breathed up cocaine must refer to something like this.

Many gestures, which are similar to the cocaine tries to ease and bring Egmont between us – the dresses, which has civilian effect, the squash stew with sunny side up eggs, with references to the place, the mood of the easy party at home and so on. Anyway the performance can get its true drive with Don Carlos, it makes it controversial too – it is unable to get rid of that idea that the performance is second part of the previous one (the actors perform characters, who are similar of the ones of the other performance, it reforms – from a little bit different point of view – ideas). From the point of view of the form, the now and here are the most important in connection with it, as the rebellious idea boils and the question works in it: is it change or concrete. Don Carlos is not the past, it happens in front of us in an emphasised way, it is connected to the questions of the everyday lives in an emphasised way.

We can only hope that performance, which starts from the everyday life, with the fall of Egmont is not about the possible picture of the future – because of the sudden closure, which shows strict state and does not make us think it over, let us leave the question easily behind. But the troupe gets something very well, as we do not have to force us to get up against the concrete. Can it be broken anyway?

Attila Nyulassy, 7óra7, 2012

(translated by: Veronika Fülöp)

I have already watched the pre-premiere, but I can tell that who have to go to watch this performance in autumn. As soon as they can, the writers should be ready, to be able to experience that Schiller-like version of the dramaturgical “acceleration”, which can be compared only to that feeling, when a person is pushed into the back of his seat on the aeroplane, which is about to take off.

This effect can be raised by those performance of Don Carlos, which is just middle levelled, but this present, lighting event strengthens all of it. The directors and designers should go to watch appearing the upcoming scenes of the play, between Judit Gombár’s central fountain-like, polygonal bench, in the atmosphere of a theatre of room. Those should go, who can enjoy the actors’ works. We can see in her peak form, Gabriella Varga, who returns after her maternity leave, in the role of Eboli. Károly Kuna appears in the role of King Philip, who has been forgotten from time to time, just to prove again, that only a few people have this kind of dark and burning presence, maybe Viktor Fülöp was the last one, around whom the air could boil that way. (Maybe there are some people, who can still remember the famous dancer’s last moments in the King Deer in Radnóti Theatre.) Then those viewers should go, who are selfish and hopeful, and who by seeing The Duke of Alva by László Keszég, who has been carved of marble, can be surprised and calmed down: there are still Hungarian actors, in whom the ideas and feeling are presented as charge, and who can stand in for that kind of power, which we have not got used to in our theatres. We can also watch Erika Tankó as Elisabeth, Zoltán Lendváczky as Don Carlos, Gyöngyi Balsek in more roles, and Ákos Orosz as a magnetic Marquis de Posa, who is not from our world.

I have to admit, that the text of the advertisement, which is there to advertise Don Carlos and Egmont in autumn, can use the expression of “minimalist monumentalism” in connection with the given style with good reason. We can experience tectonic events here, on the force field of a room theatre.

Katalin Gabnai, Mindenki Színháza, 2012

(translated by: Veronika Fülöp)