Krisztina Szepesi: Egg(s)Hell
I threw a short one. The egg fell apart on the stage, and they executed the boy. If I threw a longer one, he can’t have been washed in egg yolk of half a dozen and everything would have happened in a different way. The improvisation can draw with the virtuosity of surprise. And the troupe of Maladype does it too in case of the Egg(s)Hell.
Zoltán Balázs sends some instructions for the actors before the performance, and then it has seemed to be strange, but soon we would see an Indian celebration with human victim and a terrace of a crowded café, with the waiters’ ballet-like coordinated work. On the stage only the plastic flamingos do not laugh. They accept the news with gracefully standing necks, raised up their “noses”, with whole calmness.
Then Bolero by Ravel sounds and the theatre begins. The actors, who are sitting on the chairs, first just change their positions, they stand up and then sit down, then short stories are going on meanwhile, as they touch each other, look at one another. The egg goes from hands to hands, from mouth to mouth, and the eight actors can react with perfect sense of rhythm to the louder music, and then the increasing passion turns into common wildness, and then the chaos turns into order. Then we learn, what would happen if there was a bomb in my heart, and what can make a woman from Pest beautiful. The group is fooling around with such a playfulness to different kind of music and forms sometimes really tragic moments too, that I can easily forget when between the fantastic ideas there are some more boring ones. There is risk in the game, but the courage is convincing anyway. On the face we can see, that how incredibly they enjoy this strange game.
Kamilla Fátyol and Ádám Tompa show for example, can a serious flirt be born by the touching of a couple of cigarettes into the backcombed hair. Orosz Ákos do everything with touching enthusiasm for a woman, who has already been waiting for someone else for a while, with the knowledge of his complete hopelessness, then later he can push himself onto the ground so smile raising as nobody else can do it. Éva Bakos gets into a funny chasing, and she cries for help with shining eyes, reddish face, joyfully. Zoltán Lendváczky’s body cannot stay calm for a moment, his repertoire is almost infinite. Hermina Fátyol throws herself elegantly into the deep. She does it confidently. Zsolt Páll once puffed himself up and commanding, then a few minutes later he performs as a pathetic commander. Katalin Simkó floats charmingly, as an aerial dancer, and she flirts joyfully with everybody.
The harmony can make us happy. One of the performers starts a scale of movements, then the other one goes on with it, then another idea is born and it runs through the group as a wave, and so on, then finally the game is over. By then the chicken and ostrich eggs have already flown, as the world is circular, people sometimes love then hate each other, but they have to live together on this circle, and these eight actors in the small world of the stage can do it wonderfully.
Krisztina Szepesi, Pesti Műsor, 2009
(translated by: Veronika Fülöp)
Zoltán Balázs sends some instructions for the actors before the performance, and then it has seemed to be strange, but soon we would see an Indian celebration with human victim and a terrace of a crowded café, with the waiters’ ballet-like coordinated work. On the stage only the plastic flamingos do not laugh. They accept the news with gracefully standing necks, raised up their “noses”, with whole calmness.
Then Bolero by Ravel sounds and the theatre begins. The actors, who are sitting on the chairs, first just change their positions, they stand up and then sit down, then short stories are going on meanwhile, as they touch each other, look at one another. The egg goes from hands to hands, from mouth to mouth, and the eight actors can react with perfect sense of rhythm to the louder music, and then the increasing passion turns into common wildness, and then the chaos turns into order. Then we learn, what would happen if there was a bomb in my heart, and what can make a woman from Pest beautiful. The group is fooling around with such a playfulness to different kind of music and forms sometimes really tragic moments too, that I can easily forget when between the fantastic ideas there are some more boring ones. There is risk in the game, but the courage is convincing anyway. On the face we can see, that how incredibly they enjoy this strange game.
Kamilla Fátyol and Ádám Tompa show for example, can a serious flirt be born by the touching of a couple of cigarettes into the backcombed hair. Orosz Ákos do everything with touching enthusiasm for a woman, who has already been waiting for someone else for a while, with the knowledge of his complete hopelessness, then later he can push himself onto the ground so smile raising as nobody else can do it. Éva Bakos gets into a funny chasing, and she cries for help with shining eyes, reddish face, joyfully. Zoltán Lendváczky’s body cannot stay calm for a moment, his repertoire is almost infinite. Hermina Fátyol throws herself elegantly into the deep. She does it confidently. Zsolt Páll once puffed himself up and commanding, then a few minutes later he performs as a pathetic commander. Katalin Simkó floats charmingly, as an aerial dancer, and she flirts joyfully with everybody.
The harmony can make us happy. One of the performers starts a scale of movements, then the other one goes on with it, then another idea is born and it runs through the group as a wave, and so on, then finally the game is over. By then the chicken and ostrich eggs have already flown, as the world is circular, people sometimes love then hate each other, but they have to live together on this circle, and these eight actors in the small world of the stage can do it wonderfully.
Krisztina Szepesi, Pesti Műsor, 2009
(translated by: Veronika Fülöp)