The Tempest performance by Maladype and Bárka Theatre is passionate and above it, it is emotional. It uses despised – „bombastic” – theatrical effects, which have been exiled into storage room to construct a grandiose prose opera. It does not ironize, does not use counterpoints: it gives wild-romantic melodrama, in which real dramatic heroes show flooding feelings with great-opera-like performance, in front of the painted sets, while Leoš Janacek’s later-romantic opera can be heard from the loudspeakers. Is it playful formalism, game of style, sarcasm? No, not at all! In Ostrovsky’s drama vision-like pictures, imagined language, unbearably tensed situations and extreme actions show the overwhelming, devastating tempest of soul. Zoltán Balázs creates the credibility of deepness that gives tragic elevation and perspective, so with one word he gives the credibility of university.

Ostrovsky’s enchanted heroin, Katerina is a real dramatic hero, whose tragedy comes from her personality. She necessarily rebels against her jealous mother-in-law, against Kabanova’s depressing terror. She falls in love with Boris, with the melancholically fallen young man, who had to come to that dusty little town from Moscow, whose life is crippled by his guardian – who handles his heritage -, by Dikov who has terrifying anger sometimes. Varvara, Kabanova’ clever daughter helps the hopeless lovers, to be able to meet by the River Volga, when Katerina’s well-intentioned but powerless husband travels to Moscow, to let himself live there. Pilgrims and hypocritical people can be found in the town by the River Volga in the Kabanovas’ house. The picture of a hypocritical and cruel, superstitious and liar world is formed there, the emblematic figure of it is the silly old woman, who has frozen the sensitive Katerina to death with her terrible predictions and made her confess her “sin” to her mother-in-law. The love was born during the ominous silence before the tempest, during the tempest Katerina knees down in front of Kabanova, finally during the stormy night she jumps into the deep from the rock. Boris is sent to Siberia by his uncle. Varvara escaped with Kudriash, with whom she has met secretly. Kuligin the eccentric inventor, the scorned humanist finds the dead body. Kabanov who remains alone for ever is crying for his unfaithful partner, then goes against his mother who he treats as the killer of his wife. In The Tempest we can find basic motives of romanticism (fatal love, demonic madness, tempest of soul and nature, flying and falling, a superstitious religiosity that ruins the soul and the opposition of God everywhere and in everything, the fight of the degenerated and empty tradition and freedom, which fulfils personality. From all its elements the real dramatic poetry is coming: expressive theatrical effects, captivating atmosphere, and high tension characterises it all the time. The performance creates a theatrical poetry which is respectable for it.

Judit Gombár’s widened set of play cites the wild-like world of great operas: in the background there are gigantic painted mountain peaks, in front of it there is an irregularly shaped ramp that runs upside (bridge, path, river side, rock), which is painted red, deep blue, dark purple by the picturesque lighting which serves the mood of each scenes. In the expressionist painting of space black dressed lighting technicians are pushing the camera cars on rails, there is a crane of camera too, there are spotlights on them. The points of lights follow the actors during the scenes, they change from one to another, they widen and get narrower: they guide the viewers’ attentions. The light becomes a kind of silent character, when the reflector goes contrary to the character who crosses in the deep at the stage lights, or when it is fixed on the scaffold to cite the sun. The continuous metamorphosis of area is magical. This space is the space of soul, as the tempest is the tempest of soul. The half circle can emphasise, border and connect – as a camera in a film.

They mix under the performance the overflowing music of Janacek’s opera, Katya Kabanova, which must paint the characters’ feelings, moods, angers. To use this solution on the stage is crucial. If actors live through and show up the inner happenings, an over-decorated tautology can be formed. If they cannot live it through, this undertone will be a faulty illustration. Anyway, it destroys the magic of presence. In the performance of Bárka-Maladype Theatre, in this wonderfully fabricated prose opera the musical showing of emotional waving is obvious.

The women seem to be the ancient pictures of each characters in Judit Gombár’s heavy, trailed, nicely stylised, emphasising costume-like dresses, with their bunned, braided hair buildings – they are portraits that have got into life, they are typical figures of the XIX. century mythology of Russia, who are painted with wide brushstrokes. Kátya Tompos’ really nice, fragile Slavic beauty can reflect Katerina’s nobility of soul. Olga Varjú – Kabanova – with the stuffed weasel in her arm, in her layered red dress, with her tight hair she is the wild eroticism closed into the queen-like strictness. The men’s costumes are suitable for a great (open air) stage: they are essential like the dresses of figures on cards. Dikov – Róbert Kardos – is the man with boots and gun, wild master. Kudriash – Ádám Tompa – is a freedom-loving Cossack boy. Kabanov – Balázs Dévai – in his long pastel Russian shirt is like a tall, eternal teenager. Boris – Zalán Makranczi – in his “Germanic” coat, silly little hat, he is like Buster Keaton with his wondering face who gets lost in the Russian steppe. What is the actors’ work, if the figures are so ready, if so many things are shown by their inner sound, the opera, if the lights can shade so punctually?

In confessional situations they put their hands on their heart. They mostly walk leaning forward, as they would balance with the headwind, or they would flow on tiptoed like ballet dancers. They open their arms and push their backs to the wall if they are frightened or they curl up in the corners holding their knees. Many times, they move at the end of a musical phrase, at the beginning of a sound they froze into a picture. Many opera-like poses, conventional gestures and forms of great stages. Meanwhile they are not funny, over-thought this performance which is composed till the smallest details. The actors concentrate well their passion into the formation of gestures. The century old theatrical tropes are ennobled into meanings. The elegantly plastic motions, movements show only a part of the inner happenings – we can feel how many ideas by actors remain hidden. Zoltán Balázs matches the “patent” solutions to concrete things to help expressions. Katerina and Boris must be torn from one another, they cannot leave each other. From the pathetic but arrogantly formed action the power of their love cries. Katerina balances on the edge of the upper floor, while she is talking about the freedom of flying. It is a heroic picture – a light dressed woman up in front of the dark sky -: it is similar to Tosca. Finally, the left young woman opens her hair, leaves her upper dress, before she jumps into the deep, or motionlessly stretches up to the upside climbing wall, between the sky and the earth.

It a real performance: the actors do not reproduce things – they become signs. The truth of heroic gestures come from deep analyzation, and relentless sophistication of formation. Zoltán Balázs and Judit Góczán dramaturg, solve the drama by Ostrovsky and do not match the idea to the drama. Kabanova and Dikov’s relationship tells us about the hypocrisy of the families’ powerful members and confesses about the depravity of tradition that ruins natural feelings. The drunken master who is pointing with his gun and the strict great woman jump on one another, the wild man hides himself under the royal train. The cruelty is a revenge for their dissatisfaction. Does Katerina have to die for these? The mixture of the old mad woman and the pilgrim figure is an excellent invention. It emphasises and makes a symbolic character the frightening figure. It tells about the maniac madness of rigid conventions, about the terrible sins behind the superstitious belief, and about the deformed eroticism which is hidden behind the fanaticism. Éva Bakos’s old woman, who is dishevelled-grey, in her dirty-lacy nightclothes is a frightening phenomenon. The wild obsessed one of moral issues and moderation is not characterised by great-opera-like ceremonialism. It is like she is rushing from a cruel theatrical performance into the world of ritualised passions. The “difference” of actors’ speech is a really intensive element of effect. Éva Bakos’ extremely powerful performance, the courage of her play one of the most lighting value of the performance. She cries her ominous cures by cracking her whip, the handle of the whip stretches between her legs like a phallus, its line winds onto her neck like a snake. During the dark afternoon of confession, she is the overwhelming tempest herself, and with her open legs she gives birth to the decline.

The performance is getting more and more silent. After that the strong form makes us accept the tragic passions, they play fewer and fewer music, the theatrical gestures become rare, the play becomes more and more lack of tools. Olga Varjú, as Kabanova shows evidently the power which is essential to the tension of drama. During the perfect decline something irritating can remain in her, while her greatness is captivating. Artúr Kálid as Kuligin does not bring the cliché of the eccentric freak one. The blaming that comes from his sentences and views shows us that morality that loves and understands humanity, and that makes him a real outstanding figure in this cruel town. The drama would give possibility to show us how coward and selfish Boris is, how wimpish and indefinite, narrow-minded Kabanov is. In this performance both of them are victims who would deserve better fate. Zalán Makranczi’s Boris is not a man, as he cannot decide on his own life. Balázs Dévai’s Kabanov is sad, a weak husband, who would be able to love Katerina if they do not always feel on themselves the mother’s piercing look. Balázs Dévai’s play has a beautiful arc, as from the indifference, through the cheating and drunken anger, he gets till the understanding that he has loved his wife and with her death he lost everything. Kátya Tompos is singing wonderfully a Russian folk song while she is saying goodbye to life. It is a shockingly wonderful theatrical moment. Everything is shown in it which dies with the final fall. Just a performance which is formed with so demanding thoughts, graceful culture of forms, punctual acting can be so purely and quietly without any tools, can be so sensitive.

Balázs Perényi, Színház, 2007

(translated by: Veronika Fülöp)