A conversation with Ágota Szilágyi and Erika Tankó, actresses at Maladype Theatre about identity, personal inventory, necessary resets and new beginnings on the occasion of their performance, “Outlet”.

How was the idea of Outlet born?

Erika Tankó: At the end of the last theatre season, we were sitting together somewhere, perhaps in a café, and we felt like we’ve been through so much both together and separately that we have a lot to talk about to the audience, and that maybe the things that are important to us could be of interest to others as well.

What does the title refer to? (The Hungarian title of the piece, ‘Out-lét’ is a play with words and also refers to being an outsider – the translator)

Ágota Szilágyi: It’s difficult to talk about this issue. We were born in Romania as part of the Hungarian minority. Throughout our childhood, we heard that we needed to preserve our Hungarian identity. This was a natural “fundamental experience” for us as children, but of course over time everything that was happening around us took on a different meaning. We can’t a don’t want to erase this experience, because it strongly defined our sense of identity. Apart from this, we both came from families where there were no artists before us. We are first-generation artists trying to find our own way in unknown territory. Trust me, we often feel like outsiders... and we haven’t even talked about being part of the independent theatre scene yet.

Why did you choose the genre of performance art?

E.T.: We felt like performance art is a feminine genre: it’s intuitive, it gives a lot of freedom, and yet it has a very strong organizing force that stems from the performer’s personality. The precision that comes from our personalities offers an opportunity for us to show the most nuanced aspects of our individuality.

How difficult is it that in this format, you are completely on your own?

Á.Sz.: The hardest and at the same time the easiest thing is to create something from nothing. It’s a tremendous experience that requires a great deal of self-awareness. I think we have never learnt so much about ourselves and each other before. What's more, there is little useful, comprehensive literature available on the genre of performance art, as its boundaries are very uncertain. We often had to remind ourselves that we wanted to create an event that didn’t work according to the rules of a theatrical performance, but according to those of performance art, which is a very daring, experimental genre. We argued a lot about which of our ideas and each other's ideas we considered theatrical. We tried to systematically eliminate or transform those ideas.

How was the creation process different compared to working in a company?

E.T.: It was completely different, as we had no script like in a theatre. We had to adapt to our own and to each other’s rhythm in the best possible way. Writing the rehearsal schedule for yourself can be liberating and dangerous at the same time: there’s a risk of becoming lazy or overworking yourself. We tried to avoid both. From this point of view, it is fortunate that we are so different and complement each other well: if one of us overdid it, the other was there with their calmness. It’s a common trait of actors to blame others if something doesn’t work: we blame it on the script, the concept, the director who didn’t trust us, the lack of time (there’s never enough time), the lack of understanding for our complicated souls, etc. Well, we have no excuses now, as we have to take responsibility for everything. We also discovered how much smartness and organizational work is required to prepare a performance: from finding the right seamstress to ordering custom light bulbs... we went through it all.

How did you structure the event?

Á.Sz..: First, we organized a few central themes and collected ideas for them from our own experiences and readings. We assigned images to them that could express what we wanted to say. Then we started writing, both text and lyrics, which was one of the bravest parts of our undertaking, as none of us had ever tried anything like this before that would be presented to an audience. Some things required more work, and some came instinctively, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. It simply flowed out. When you feel that a thought is so strong inside you that all it takes is a little push to give it form: those are the most beautiful moments.

How much did the methods you learnt at Maladype help you in your work? Did you draw on them, or did this process require a completely different approach from you?

E.T.: We encountered our first difficulties when it became clear how differently we think... our brains work on different wavelengths. We have known each other for a long time, but this stylistic difference had never been so obvious to us before. We thought we could turn this into an advantage, and it helped a lot that we could always fall back on “the Maladype-style” that we both know.

In the programme notes you say: “Transilluminating memories, putting that past in its place, making the present transparent and permeable, taking ourselves home into our own depths.” Is what you are preparing a kind of inventory, a reckoning? A pause, a rest, and preparation for a new start?

Á. Sz.: That's right. A personal inventory, enumeration, letting go and starting over. As a human being, as a woman, as a creator. Where are we now, where do we want to be? What can we identify with, and what do we want to get rid of? Where are our roots, and how can we draw strength from this heritage? How long will vulnerability be a burden, and where is the point from which we can move forward with the greatest confidence and freedom? Saturday night is the first or last step in making decisions that we have been mulling over for a long time.

Will the audience get to know a new side of you?

E.T.: They haven’t seen us like this before. We looked for situations in which we could face our fears: things we hadn't done on stage yet, for example because we didn't have the courage or felt inadequate. This is not recklessness, but a necessary reset of ourselves, which we believe every creator must do at certain moments in order to move forward.

There will be one single occasion for the performance. Is it true now more than ever that it will be a “once-in-a-lifetime” opportunity? How can you prepare for that?

Á.Sz.: By figuring out a system, establishing the rules of the game, and not letting yourself despair if things don't go as planned, because we are putting ourselves through physical and mental trials that could naturally lead to disintegration. We boldly expose ourselves to this idea and eagerly await what happens...

So you still have a few surprises in store for us.

Á.Sz.: ... and to ourselves, too.

By Ildikó Éri, szinhaz.hu, 2015

Translated by Lena Megyeri