Flóra Molnár: A prison grid or a ladder leading to the sky?

Susan Sontag: Alice in Bed - Târgu Mureş University of the Arts

How can a person trapped between being and non-being travel the world and the depths of her own spirit if her bedridden state deprives her of experience?

Zoltán Balázs and the acting students of the University of Arts in Târgu Mureş graduated in 2020 submerged into the world of Alice James to create a sharply sparkling performance on the university stage.

Special set design in the middle of the stage. Alice sits on top like the ruler of the space. And even though the outside world treats her with a kind of condescension, Alice still watches things from a height. Her immobility not only puts her in restraint, but also gives her freedom. Time to think, self-improvement, time to really get to know herself, to constantly color her inner world. She is in such a privileged position that she can deviate from the traditional way of life for women without being excluded from society (it is true that her state of health plays a role in this), some parts of which are promising, but others repel her. Because she basically spies on her surroundings from above, she sees everything clearly, but human proximity is unknown to her. Alice is an extremely exciting, courageous and self-aware personality, thinking exceptionally about life and human relationships, but when she meets real, flesh-and-blood people, she handles the situations peculiarly. She gets bored of her visitors because she doesn’t like the self they see, but when she meets a stranger, a burglar, she finds herself in a whole new position. How much do we create our world, how much does our world create us? How do we shape others through our attitude towards them? Along these issues, the performance elaborates on Susan Sontag’s drama translated by Dorka Porogi, which is represented by dynamic and at the same time highly concentrated acting performances.

The rebel Alice James is sensitively played by Anikó Rákosy L., she dominates her world, keeping the attention of her entire audience, without a single inaccurate breath, without a single undeveloped movement. There are no unreasonable breaks in the performance, the actors help Alice with tireless energy to the decision of the last scene, move some elements of the set, hang on it, climb on it, perform strange stunts, all this while speaking. And the characters not only fill Alice’s world, they also build it. They shape, moreover in part form the model in which the girl is forced to live and in which the ladders sometimes become gratings. I am thinking in particular of the free-spirited, yet hesitant, success-oriented father (Loránd Czüvek), the mysterious brother (Kornél Ádám) who encloses his sister, or the superficial and unfriendly nurse (Judit Réka Barkó) who clings to appearances. With their spirituality, with their vulgar will, they shape the atmosphere and, to some extent, Alice’s image of herself. It is a false world, defined by protocol, society’s expectation system, vanity, and function, in which if a woman is unable to give birth or become successful, she simply becomes dysfunctional. However, Alice thinks differently, so it’s no wonder she prefers the company of “ghosts”. Emily Dickinson and Margaret Fuller (Fanni Zádor and Bernadett Vadász) are experienced and successful women whose dream-images visioned by our protagonist provide company for the girl. Alice looks up at them because they can live a life she has no chance of. She longs for the experience, but such as her illness, her person is also misunderstood, and when the experience with the outside world comes to her in the form of a burglar (Zoltán Pál), the expected encounter drowns in confusion. Is it worth the physical and mental pain to live ourselves, to feel what is happening, or is it enough to think about what might happen? Alice struggles - not only with her illness and the sarcophagus-like prejudices forced on her, but also with her own mental limitations. She’s not at all sure she can make something better, more valuable, or she’s worth fighting for. And yet, there is something that, in the last scene, exudes endless hope and faith: the image of Alice stepping out of her frame, despite all her hopelessness, climbs out of her dark tower and takes on her fight despite her fears.

The stand designed by Zoltán Balázs, which is a tower of Babel condensed into a specific point in the space, an embodied analogy, provides an exciting and special context for the excellent acting. The edifice is more than a set, more of a living space that is constantly being shaped by the actors and the piece, like an anthill that is constantly being built and buzzing. In connection with the piece, I must highlight the beautiful and special costumes, which are the work of Măriuca Ignat. The sight perfectly expresses the visionary world of a sick woman, the medium of a girl longing and yet living in some kind of fear, with the characters she may have considered violent, strange, frightening.

Alice in bed is a strong, thought-provoking, concisely striking performance that sparkles the talent and versatility of the actors and the creativity and sensitivity of director Zoltán Balázs. I could see an exciting and border-crossing adaptation of an extremely saturated piece that could be played undeservedly little because of the measures caused by the epidemic.

Flóra Molnár, art7.hu, 2021

Translation by Zsuzsanna Juraszek