it could have happened, nevertheless. Antal Németh” directed the Tragedy in
a studio in 1939, after the famous technical “fireworks” of the 1937 main-stage
production. I wonder: what might the dimensions of the National Chamber
Theater’s studio have been? Németh: “I’m producing the Tragedy on a stage that
fits one’s palm, foregoing all technical tricks.” How could Antal Németh have
avoided facing the fundamental conflict between theatricality and the story in
the text, which is as old as theater itself?! How could a director of such large¬
scale format and thought, who understood the dramaturgical character of
the Shakespearean stage so profoundly, avoid the temptation of empty space?
Gyorgy Lengyel, the other great Madach interpreter and director in Hungar¬
ian theatrical history, mentions a religious ceremony taking place in an inti¬
mate atmosphere in his writing about the Antal Németh studio production.”!
An open-winged altar’s changing panel paintings indicated the settings, and
Madach quotations written on ribbons (“speech ribbons,” in the manner of
medieval painters) led the viewer: I mention them lest I omit the pre-Brechtian
element of the Antal Németh-esque conception. Eighteen actors played the
Tragedy, conceiving the work as an oratorio. A speaking chorus. And another
thing: the set designer, Balas Laszl6 Visky, painted the altar paintings.”
In the present production, a 2 by 1 meter table appears in the long axis of
the stage from time to time. The emphasized scenes take place on this table:
for example, this is where we will see the tiny pyramids constructed of sand, or
just a single one, we'll see. The possibility of using projections comes up: from
above onto the 2 m? table and the 26 m? stage — Purcarete has in mind mainly
animated versions ofthe emblems of the civilizations in the historical scenes.
I recommend Géza M. Tóth to him, and we instantly watch the animated film
director’s marvelous Ergo. Again, that pure childlike enthusiasm for this truly
poetic film: he’s deeply touched by the work’s purity, its refined, tragic quality
and poetic respiration. I promise Silviu to phone Géza, as long as the theater’s
manager, Attila Balazs, agrees; he, by the way, is one of the three Lucifers
(alongside Andrea Tokai and Andras Zsolt Bandi). Of course, uncertainties
arise over whether the intended form can tolerate digital interventions — but
we let this decision await the evolutionary process. But I go ahead and phone
Géza M. Toth, today.
Antal Németh (1903-1968): Hungarian director, professor, theater manager, historian of
theater.
Gyôrgy Lengyel: La tragédie de l'Homme, poème dramatique d’Imre Madächi, L'Annuaire
théâtral 47 (2010), 157-171.
Tamás Koltai: Az ember tragédiája a színpadon, Budapest, Kelenföld, 1990, 111. In fact, his
name was Balás László Viski, but his name was printed in the program with a y. It is worth
mentioning that Balás Viski, born in 1909 in Dés (today: Dej, Romania), was a student in the
Accademia de Belle Arte in Cluj, whence he arrived at the Hungarian Conservatory of Applied
Art in Budapest.