Theatrical slap – Interview with Zoltán Balázs / 2018
A survey on violence in the theatrical rehearsal process
A Facebook debate, which has fortunately faded away by now, about "yelling" as a legitimate form of instruction that is immediately forgotten/forgiven after rehearsal, prompted the editors of our journal to ask artists about the presence of violence in the theatrical rehearsal process. We asked the following questions:
1. How do you deal with stress during rehearsals as a director?
2. To what extent is it acceptable to vent your anger at colleagues, technicians, actors, and others during this process?
3. How should a director talk to an actor, where are the boundaries, what is acceptable and what is not during rehearsals?
4. What hinders collaboration, and what helps it?
Zoltán Balázs’s answers:
– The most important thing in the communication between the director and the team is to develop a common vocabulary that serves as a reference point for what is and is not acceptable. The possibilities are different in every environment; I speak very differently with the members of my own company, Maladype, with whom I spend most of my time, openly and attentively, and very differently with a new team in a foreign theatre. In such cases, I cannot be too pushy or too dominant, while at the same time I have to achieve the change that made them invite me as a director, and it is also important that the trust between us remains after the premiere. How you allow yourself to use more unpleasant forms of communication depends on many factors. At the same time, for me—both with my own company and with other theatres—rehearsals are still an island of peace: the theatre environment is like a war zone, full of conflicts and clashes of will, but rehearsals themselves are peaceful, even if they are uncomfortable; many problems can arise there too. But even so, during rehearsals, you only have to deal with what you are there for, and that's good for the nervous system.
– But even an island of peace can be disrupted by problems and tensions. What do you do in such cases?
– My answer is short: everyone gets two chances. You can be late, be irresponsible, try anything once, maybe twice, but not a third time, because then it's goodbye. The members of Maladype know exactly the parameters of working with me, so expectations and demands are clarified very quickly. Problems can arise when I have to transfer my own habits, dynamism, and energy to a more comfortable environment, because those who are not ready for fast action will fall behind. Of course, the director has to deal with the less efficient ones as well, but for the sake of the final result, he has to strive for harmony. But there is much to be gained from life, good friendships, lovemaking, humour, or sports: for example, before my accident, horseback riding meant a lot to me, and now it's spinning. There are ways to release extra tension and enter the island of peace in a more human way.
– Has it ever happened that despite all the horse-riding and spinning, you couldn't control yourself and started yelling?
– One time, our two leading ladies were rehearsing Don Carlos, and no matter what they did, I kept stopping them: that's not what I said, that's not what we agreed on, it's not right. Then I realized that there was nothing wrong with the scene, I was just trying to quit smoking, and they happened to be the ones who caught those two or three hours while I was venting this pent-up energy and constantly picking on them. I have to acknowledge things like that, and then I feel ashamed for a while, we have a good laugh, and then we continue from a completely different place. Sometimes you have to face the fact that factors outside the theatre also shape communication. And when it comes to professional issues, you have to speak up: I'm not one to avoid conflict, it doesn't matter whether the actor in question is called László Sinkó or Zsigmond Bödők, my job is to get the most out of them, and that obviously requires a strong opinion and determination. Until I can show what I want to show, I will not give up, and there are several methods for this —but yelling is not really one of them. Instead, I persistently look for detours that will still take me where I need to go. I have now learned to sit still during rehearsals, which is my greatest neurological development: I used to jump around, rush about, fly, and throw myself around. Inside, I alternate between hot and cold, but I have to express this inner energy through vocal and verbal means, not gestures.
– Can any form of aggression be part of the aforementioned detours?
– Aggression is overflowing energy coupled with inarticulate expression, whether we are talking about physical, verbal, or psychological aggression. Back when I was starting out, there were certainly times when I “beat up the audience.” When the ladies and gentlemen were watching Pelléas and Mélisande in Gyula, the actors were clicking their tongues, talking backwards, and Orthodox music was playing, and after five minutes, a woman sitting in front of me turned to the woman next to her and said, "Hey, is this how it's going to be?" I replied, "Yes, this is how, and you're staying here and watching it to the end!", and turned their heads back toward the stage. I was aggressive because I felt that the actors were pouring their hearts out and they didn't understand. Today, I think that if the audience isn't hooked after five minutes, then there's something wrong with the performance, something we didn't manage to convey—then they should get up, leave, and come back. I see the world differently now, but at the same time, it is not the inarticulate part of aggression that is essential, but the part that is coupled with determination, strong opinions, and consistency. And this creates conflicts, but conflicts are good for theatre.
Bálint Kovács, szinhaz.net, 2018
A Facebook debate, which has fortunately faded away by now, about "yelling" as a legitimate form of instruction that is immediately forgotten/forgiven after rehearsal, prompted the editors of our journal to ask artists about the presence of violence in the theatrical rehearsal process. We asked the following questions:
1. How do you deal with stress during rehearsals as a director?
2. To what extent is it acceptable to vent your anger at colleagues, technicians, actors, and others during this process?
3. How should a director talk to an actor, where are the boundaries, what is acceptable and what is not during rehearsals?
4. What hinders collaboration, and what helps it?
Zoltán Balázs’s answers:
– The most important thing in the communication between the director and the team is to develop a common vocabulary that serves as a reference point for what is and is not acceptable. The possibilities are different in every environment; I speak very differently with the members of my own company, Maladype, with whom I spend most of my time, openly and attentively, and very differently with a new team in a foreign theatre. In such cases, I cannot be too pushy or too dominant, while at the same time I have to achieve the change that made them invite me as a director, and it is also important that the trust between us remains after the premiere. How you allow yourself to use more unpleasant forms of communication depends on many factors. At the same time, for me—both with my own company and with other theatres—rehearsals are still an island of peace: the theatre environment is like a war zone, full of conflicts and clashes of will, but rehearsals themselves are peaceful, even if they are uncomfortable; many problems can arise there too. But even so, during rehearsals, you only have to deal with what you are there for, and that's good for the nervous system.
– But even an island of peace can be disrupted by problems and tensions. What do you do in such cases?
– My answer is short: everyone gets two chances. You can be late, be irresponsible, try anything once, maybe twice, but not a third time, because then it's goodbye. The members of Maladype know exactly the parameters of working with me, so expectations and demands are clarified very quickly. Problems can arise when I have to transfer my own habits, dynamism, and energy to a more comfortable environment, because those who are not ready for fast action will fall behind. Of course, the director has to deal with the less efficient ones as well, but for the sake of the final result, he has to strive for harmony. But there is much to be gained from life, good friendships, lovemaking, humour, or sports: for example, before my accident, horseback riding meant a lot to me, and now it's spinning. There are ways to release extra tension and enter the island of peace in a more human way.
– Has it ever happened that despite all the horse-riding and spinning, you couldn't control yourself and started yelling?
– One time, our two leading ladies were rehearsing Don Carlos, and no matter what they did, I kept stopping them: that's not what I said, that's not what we agreed on, it's not right. Then I realized that there was nothing wrong with the scene, I was just trying to quit smoking, and they happened to be the ones who caught those two or three hours while I was venting this pent-up energy and constantly picking on them. I have to acknowledge things like that, and then I feel ashamed for a while, we have a good laugh, and then we continue from a completely different place. Sometimes you have to face the fact that factors outside the theatre also shape communication. And when it comes to professional issues, you have to speak up: I'm not one to avoid conflict, it doesn't matter whether the actor in question is called László Sinkó or Zsigmond Bödők, my job is to get the most out of them, and that obviously requires a strong opinion and determination. Until I can show what I want to show, I will not give up, and there are several methods for this —but yelling is not really one of them. Instead, I persistently look for detours that will still take me where I need to go. I have now learned to sit still during rehearsals, which is my greatest neurological development: I used to jump around, rush about, fly, and throw myself around. Inside, I alternate between hot and cold, but I have to express this inner energy through vocal and verbal means, not gestures.
– Can any form of aggression be part of the aforementioned detours?
– Aggression is overflowing energy coupled with inarticulate expression, whether we are talking about physical, verbal, or psychological aggression. Back when I was starting out, there were certainly times when I “beat up the audience.” When the ladies and gentlemen were watching Pelléas and Mélisande in Gyula, the actors were clicking their tongues, talking backwards, and Orthodox music was playing, and after five minutes, a woman sitting in front of me turned to the woman next to her and said, "Hey, is this how it's going to be?" I replied, "Yes, this is how, and you're staying here and watching it to the end!", and turned their heads back toward the stage. I was aggressive because I felt that the actors were pouring their hearts out and they didn't understand. Today, I think that if the audience isn't hooked after five minutes, then there's something wrong with the performance, something we didn't manage to convey—then they should get up, leave, and come back. I see the world differently now, but at the same time, it is not the inarticulate part of aggression that is essential, but the part that is coupled with determination, strong opinions, and consistency. And this creates conflicts, but conflicts are good for theatre.
Bálint Kovács, szinhaz.net, 2018