Erika Tankó graduated from the Târgu Mureș University of Arts in 2004. After spending six years at the Csiky Gergely State Hungarian Theatre in Timișoara, she joined Maladype Theatre two and a half years ago at the invitation of Zoltán Balázs. She was recently seen in important roles in Don Carlos and Egmont. We interviewed the actress about her experience.

- Have you ever done an interview?

- Not in Hungary. In Târgu Mureș, I spoke briefly on the radio about my first and so far only film, The Witch Circle. Later, during my first year at the university, I gave an interview to a theater magazine. They asked me what my Catholic high school upbringing meant to me and how I transitioned to the acting profession. Recently, I came across that article again and was astonished as I reread what I had said about my early self and my acting aspirations. It seemed like a lifetime ago... so much has happened since then. I was convinced that I would be at home as an actress, and I never longed for Hungary...

- But you ended up joining a Hungarian theater company...

- I never would have knocked on the doors of Budapest theaters because I wasn’t drawn to the bustle of the capital. But the rehearsal process for The Return of Ulyesses Return with Zoltán Balázs in Timișoara was so great, and I felt so connected to his way of thinking, that when he invited me to Maladype, I said yes without hesitation. It wasn’t about Hungary—it was specifically because I wanted to work with him. I think our meeting was, in a professional sense, “love at first sight.” His unconventional way of working left a big impact on me. It was something I hadn’t encountered before. He saw how I worked on the role of Penelope, my determination, my persistence, and how once I set off on a path, I don't look back, I only look forward.

- What did you find innovative about his working method?

- He didn’t give us a marked-up script right away, there was no authoritative rehearsal, and we didn’t start immediately creating scenes. We focused on the whole piece: we read the epic, then learned certain parts of the text, and used them as material for games and exercises suggested by Zoli. We only received the final script much later. For a long time, we didn’t even know the final cast, and through improvisational games, we were able to try out different roles. I always felt that the preparatory games had a purpose, a goal, and—most importantly—a perspective. This freshness had a powerful effect on me, just like the fact that, just a week before the premiere, we still didn’t know the final form of the performance, yet within a few days, the separate parts still came together into a whole. Zoli tried to scrape off the mannerisms and the acting techniques we were used to. Through him, we were able to exist on stage simply and clearly once again. He didn’t allow us to use unnecessary gestures or resort to inarticulate yelling just to solve a situation dramatically. We couldn’t hide behind lies. Through our collaboration, he made us realize how hard it was for us to give meaning and content to a simple sentence, to convey it clearly, because wrong emphases had been ingrained in us. It was terribly hard to recognize this, but we were grateful for the confrontation. It meant a lot to me to have someone who cares about stage honesty, real presence, and who feels responsible for making us interested in the work. Zoli also showed us how much sensitivity, ease, and elegance there is in focusing on our partner without grimaces or filler gestures.

- Did you ever doubt whether you wanted to continue the kind of acting and lifestyle that Balázs Zoltán demands?

- If something doesn’t come from within me, if it’s not sincere, I can’t represent it fully on stage. During the six years I spent in Timișoara, I tried many different theatrical styles and acting methods, but I didn’t feel as connected to any of them as I do to the one that characterizes Maladype. Romanian theater is more expressive, a bit sensationalist, as opposed to the method used in Hungary, which is based on Stanislavski. To illustrate this, I would say that if you tell a Romanian actor to walk across the stage from right to left, they would ask how, while a Hungarian actor would ask why. Since I started working at Maladype, I’ve come to believe more in the power of wordless tools, the strength of speech and expression. Now, when I sit in the audience, it’s harder for me to be lied to, and I find it harder to lie to myself as well. Now, I long for the audience to see me as a person on stage, not as an actor who can easily pick and choose from a toolbox of techniques. I no longer want to portray a role just with technical tricks.

- How can an actor be true to themselves on stage while performing?

- Perhaps by not forgetting that they were a person before they were an actor. I have never felt like an actress in the classical sense of the word; I see myself more as a player. The game between people is more exciting to me than just being seen.

- Since joining Maladype, you have been given bigger roles than before...

- Yes, I’m now playing roles I wouldn’t have dared to dream of before. Now, they care about my growth from one performance to the next. This trust and the new challenges are inspiring. It’s important to keep one’s curiosity alive, to want to try new things, to seize opportunities. At Maladype, this is not hard for me. It’s terrifying to stand on an 1.80-meter-high platform in Egg(s)Hell and fall backwards, hoping that the others will catch me—but you have to be invested in experiencing such moments. If we only did the task because someone asked us to, we would miss something important.

- After performances, do you feel more physical or mental exhaustion?

- It depends on the performance. Don Carlos, for example, is exhausting both physically and mentally, but I always push through the dead point. When we truly give ourselves to a problem, when we really pay attention to our partner, when we ask questions sincerely, when we have something to discuss on stage, we don’t even notice time passing. It feels like we are addressing an important issue, and it doesn’t feel like a coincidence that I’m arguing, questioning, or answering. This somehow recharges me. But there are times when I feel like I can’t go on physically—like when I stand motionless for half an hour at the window in Egmont—but my body proves me wrong, and it turns out that even extreme stillness is bearable.

- Maladype exists as an independent theatre. How does the financial uncertainty in this area affect you?

- We are aware that we exist on the periphery, and we know that there’s a process of draining resources going on. We believe that what we can hold on to is our work. If we only complained and didn’t work, we would give a reason for the independent sector to be dismantled. We must not lose the only tool we have to prove our right to exist: our theatre, the argument that we are doing good things. I don’t feel that there is no need for us, as many new, innovative initiatives come from the alternative sphere. Moreover, the human gestures we receive from our audience and our volunteers are more important than the fact that the cultural policy doesn’t treat us as they should. The gestures keep us alive and reinforce our belief in our work. After all, governments come and go, but this environment will outlast them.

Kovács Bálint, Tóth Berta, szinhaz.hu, 2013

Translation by Zsuzsanna Juraszek