OCR
ANITA RÁKÓCZY changes; he sends Clov away. With Clovs help, his catalysing, confrontational role, Hamm finally manages to complete his story. Or in fact, Clov completes it for him. There is a picture on the wall with its back to the audience, which at this point Clov turns around to expose the image in the painting: it is (almost) the opening tableau of the play, with Hamm in the middle, and Clov himself standing halfway between Hamm’s armchair and the kitchen, his usual position. A finished product. A sign that has accepted its meaning. Meanwhile, something unusual happens. It is Tompa’s directorial addition, a coda that might be surprising for an audience that is used to directors following the author’s stage directions verbatim. However, it strongly underlines Tompa’s general concept of the play and a peculiar message that is unprecedented in the Hungarian-language Endgame productions. Towards the end, Annamaria Biluska’s Nell and Lajos Makra’s Nagg (after both of them have died in the course of actions) emerge from the transparent bins. At this point, the elastic, metallic fabric disappears, and water starts running on the inside of the bins, like the tears on the walls. Nagg and Nell, hand in hand, walk upstage, taking Hamm with them. The three, a nuclear family, stand in a row, holding onto each other, at the back of the stage, while a strange light spreads through the stage and especially on the three at the back. At first, the light appears to be an electrical discharge coming from the kitchen, but then it becomes clear that Tompa has flooded the stage in a transcendental light. In the meantime Clov, fully dressed, ready for departure, stands by the kitchen door, looking in the direction of the audience. He is the only one alive, the only unfinished sign. The play, in terms of Clov, is left open. Whether he stays or leaves, he has his whole paternal heritage to deal with in his travel bag. Having explored a selection of Gabor Tompa’s Beckett directions, a section of his Beckettian oeuvre, one may find that although he treats the author’s spoken text with respect, does not alter or rewrite any part of the dialogue (with the exception of occasional retranslation, undoubtedly for the benefit of both Beckett’s plays and the productions), he has innovative approaches and surprising turns in store when it comes to directions, set design and additional stage actions that are not present in Beckett’s dramas. Also, Tompa has a devotion to electronic devices — either malfunctioning ones that suddenly start to function, or short circuits, electrical discharges, and breakdowns that are always connected to and open up the way for the presence of a different quality. Moreover, there is another feature common in each of the productions discussed — and in fact all of Tompa’s Beckett directions — namely clownery. In Tompa’s opinion, “all of Beckett’s characters are clowns, including the immobile ones.”* Even in Play, 36 Ichim: Tompa Gabor,113. + 98 +