{"id":285,"date":"2024-10-24T16:40:27","date_gmt":"2024-10-24T16:40:27","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.critical-stages.org\/30\/?p=285"},"modified":"2025-03-17T19:14:54","modified_gmt":"2025-03-17T19:14:54","slug":"my-exotic-girlfriend-independent-hungarian-art-in-hellerau","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.critical-stages.org\/30\/my-exotic-girlfriend-independent-hungarian-art-in-hellerau\/","title":{"rendered":"My Exotic Girlfriend: Independent Hungarian Art in Hellerau"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

No\u00e9mi Herczog<\/strong>*<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Abstract<\/strong><\/h5>\n\n\n\n

This article claims that the financial crisis in Hungarian cultural policies can and most probably will radically change and narrow down (if not cancel) the experimenting performing arts sector in the country. Simultaneously, this has sparked innovative artistic solutions, transforming crisis into an opportunity for aesthetic exploration. To support this thesis, the essay examines the 2024 selection of HELLERAU’s “Nebenan” series, which this year features independent Hungarian art. This series showcases contemporary works from regions where artists face challenging political environments.

Keywords: <\/strong>Nebenan\/Mellett\u00fcnk, Hellerau, Hungarian independent performing arts, dunaPart showcase, emerging Hungarian artists<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Begging is a recurring motif in the performances of the 2024 Nebenan\/Mellett\u00fcnk<\/em> Festival<\/a> in HELLERAU, European Centre for the Arts, which was dedicated this year to Hungarian experimental theatre. I have mixed feelings about my country being the third in a row of festival themes following Belarus (2022) and Ukraine (2023), as all are obvious instances of shaken democracies \u2013 just like Hungary.<\/p>\n\n\n

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Imre Vass and Csaba Moln\u00e1r in The Voice of Power<\/em>. Photo: Johanna Lamprecht<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

By means of the Nebenan<\/a> series, HELLERAU presents contemporary art each year from regions where artists work under difficult political conditions. Inviting independent Hungarian artists to Hellerau, a brilliant festival, is a significant gesture of solidarity on the part of the important German institution. It matters, however, that our situation is different from the other two aforementioned countries. In Hungary, there is no armed fighting in the streets, no political prisoners in jails, nor are there any threats to our physical safety. Nonetheless, Hungary today is also a deeply shaken democracy, a hybrid system, where the internationally recognised field of experimental arts faces a difficult future.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

One of the very first scenes from The Voice of Power<\/em> by the important choreographer Adrienn H\u00f3d (Hodworks) is a scene with the singular contemporary dancer-performer Csaba Moln\u00e1r, who silently scribbles rough portraits of some members of the audience, and at a certain point, suddenly offers these pictures to the models, asking for loose change in return. I remember this scene while attending the show in Hungary, but it takes on a different meaning in Hellerau. For another example, in her piece 10 Minutes of Poetry <\/em>(Proton),<\/em> Lili Monori, actress and theatre maker, is also engaged in a kind of begging from the audience. Are the Hungarians from the former Eastern bloc reflecting on their position in western Europe? The curatorial team, consisting of Carena Schlewitt and Saskia Ottis, offered an intelligent and ironic reflection on this relation between guests and host by inviting the Hungarian band Exotic Girlfriend to the festival. The guests of Nebenung Festival are exactly the so-called exotic<\/em>, or endangered, Hungarian independent companies and artists from Orbanistan. At the same time, international cooperation means a lot <\/strong>when the professionally most exportable segment of Hungarian theatre, has become an enemy of the state at home.<\/p>\n\n\n

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Lili Monori in 10 Minutes of Poetry. <\/em>Photo: Norbert Pandur-Balogh \/ Proton Theatre<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

Financial insecurity regarding cultural endeavors appears to be a problem in Western Europe as well. The Hungarian situation might be different from some of these examples because the state still strongly supports cultural projects, yet any form of criticism against the state is considered to be a form of political warfare, which means that artists and performers who criticize the system are disqualified from receiving public funding. In March, during the week of the Nebenan Festival, a propaganda state movie was shown<\/a> in Hungary about a national poet (S\u00e1ndor Pet\u0151fi); it is among one of the most expensive Hungarian films ever (17 and a quarter million euros) 98,3% of which has been supported by the state.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Meanwhile in Hellerau, one could see QR codes left by Hungarian artists as evidence of crowd funding for the experimental festival Under500<\/a>, organized this past June by private supporters. Clearly, experimental art lacks state support in contemporary Hungary. The national secretary of culture claimed in 2023 that this is because only 20% of the Hungarian audience is interested in experimentation. But we wonder when experimentation ever received 20% from the state budget for theatre in Hungary? Having grown up in a post-socialist country, we thought that culture should be state-supported, but we obviously do not share a common view on what counts as a valuable cultural endeavor that deserves to be subsidized.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As I was writing these lines in August 2024, I came across a story which illustrated this paradox. But let\u2019s first begin with a short explanation of Hungarian experimental performing arts in general. This branch of culture belongs primarily to the independent performing arts sector<\/a> in Hungary, that is to say, the independent sector, which differs from public theatre in that they lack a municipal or a state owner and therefore receive no normative subsidies.[1]<\/sup><\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

These typically NGO or non-profit companies are entitled to apply for operational and project grants. For a long time now, the National Cultural Fund (NCA\/NKA) has been the key institution to which such non-profit agencies could apply, as it used to guarantee that their support was distributed according to professional principles and would provide quality assurance. In the past, the NKA was operated by independent professional figures; in other words, they were independent from professional politics. Today, however, the situation is quite different: powerful figures of Hungarian cultural politics have also acquired powerful roles in the NKA committees, for example, Attila Vidny\u00e1nszky, an internationally renowned director of merit who is at the same time a controversial figure. He wields the most power in the field of Hungarian theatre and holds several important positions, including chief executive of the National Theatre. Another such figure is Szil\u00e1rd Demeter, who is the director of the Hungarian National Museum. Apparently, professional organisations have a one third minority in the NKA, while the government (and a government friendly institution, the MMA) enjoy two third majority.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The rates are the same in the committees too. By the time this article is published, two members of the theatre collegium of the NKA will have resigned (September 2024) in response to the cultural minister’s manipulation of previously approved decisions. This intervention has stripped politically marginalized independent companies of even the minimal subsidies that the committees had intended to grant. Many believe this marks a significant loss of independence for the NKA.<\/p>\n\n\n

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The protest slogan Culture is a national minimum<\/em> stolen from protestors on the website of the NKA<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

Already in 2019 many of us protested against that<\/a> status quo: according to a leaked draft of the law, the full occupation of the NKA was forthcoming. This plan, which is history today, cut the operational subsidies of the independent sector and was also a threat; we already knew about the anti-democratic manner of appointing the artistic directors of repertory theatres in Hungary. Our slogan used to be, Culture is a national minimum, <\/em>highlighting the absurdity that a government calling itself national <\/em>would cut the funding of the most exportable segment of national performing art, that of independent theatre, as most Hungarian directors with an international reputation belong to this sector. The State did not seem to acknowledge our demands. But this summer, as I was writing these lines, we realised that they had stolen our slogan. They stole words from those whom they executed with financial censorship. Today visitors to the website of the NKA can see billboards of repressed artists from all over the country, and they can read our protest slogan, which is the new official motto: Culture is a national minimum.<\/em> However, this culture seems to refer to a different entity in the present time. It is a symbolic gesture of expropriation of those whose existence is not considered to be important by the very same state.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It is clear that these two parties have quite different understandings of what culture is. Loyalty to state ideology, among other things, has become the newest, if not the most important criterion for the present political leadership, while the independent or critical artist has become an undesirable element, one who is tolerated but not state-supported, or, to put it in another way, is financially censored.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I am aware of a former independent project in Hungary which will not receive any further state support as of this year, and its closure has been justified informally on the grounds that criticism of the government has been voiced on stage. Such developments perpetuate the cultural practice of self-censorship that is deeply rooted in Hungarian culture and history. Today, loyalty to state-defined ideology is required for government funding: urban theatres which are managed by politically appointed artistic directors receive funding, whereas theatres whose artistic directors are not endorsed by the government are excluded from funding.<\/p>\n\n\n

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Protest at Mad\u00e1ch square in 2009. Photo: Independent Performing Arts Alliance (IPAA\/FESZ) \/ Istv\u00e1n Znamen\u00e1k<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

It is also evident that those hurt most deeply by this status quo are the independent companies. Such artists typically express a critical perspective in their work, so the political leadership in Hungary has never expressed an interest in supporting their professional or creative development.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

This pattern of neglect is vividly described in a lengthy essay by Gy\u00f6rgy Szab\u00f3, former artistic director and founder of Traf\u00f3 Contemporary Performing Arts, Hungary’s most important production house. His essay, which traced the 40-year history of the experimental segment of Hungarian theatre, was published as a two-part treatise in the Hungarian theatre monthly SZ\u00cdNH\u00c1Z. Without touching on artistic or aesthetic arguments, Szab\u00f3 focused exclusively on structural and economic problems, analysing the consistently unstable status of so-called independents in the whirling sea of Hungarian culture. In particular, he explored how the country moved paradoxically from the relative freedom of the dictatorship of the 1980s to a subsequent absence of democracy in Hungary as instantiated through the contemporary neoliberal, authoritarian order. Consequently, the reduction of funding threatens the independent sector and could painfully terminate a fruitful process that has been flourishing for decades. Of course as COVID has also shown, for the experimental sector, a crisis is always an opportunity as well, as the festival in Hellerau could very well illustrate, but as the Hungarian artistic community is relatively small, the withdrawal of state funding poses a serious challenge. Indeed, present political practice has the potential to radically change the future existence of the independent sector.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In his comprehensive article, Szab\u00f3 shows how several lines of demarcation have always defined Hungarian theatre. For example, alongside the rather simplistic axis of power versus resistance in effect before the fall of the Iron Curtain, an opposition between the public or repertory theatres and independent theatre also shaped the Hungarian theatre community. This latter conflict of interest is cardinal in the sense that the independent sector has never become an equal player in Hungarian culture. The key moment of official recognition came for the independents with the performing arts law which, after years of lengthy negotiations, was enacted in 2009 and guaranteed independent companies and venues a minimum of 10% of municipal operational subsidies.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

However, after the 2010 elections which resulted in the new Orb\u00e1n government, this guarantee was immediately cancelled without any negotiations. The performing arts law was modified in the centralizing spirit of the public policies, strengthening the status of city theatres as national or special institutions, now lead by political cronies of the governing party. Furthermore, it relegated independent companies to the ever-growing cauldron of so-called others<\/em>, which indiscriminately combined and included all applicants in a most heterogenous mix (Herczog 460).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But who is it to blame? D\u00e1niel Heged\u0171s, representative of the German Marshall Found, noted in a panel discussion at the festival that Hungary has not been invaded by foreign forces; in other words, it is necessary for us to take responsibility. If we recognise that we are ultimately responsible for the hybrid system, this self-confrontation may bring a sense of catharsis. For the time being, however, the response to the current situation in Hungary by those who are not satisfied with the status quo is generally one of apathy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

This sentiment is powerfully expressed in Viktor Szeri’s *1993 performance fatigue<\/em>, which, like most of the festival performances, was included in the dunaPart<\/a> Hungarian platform 2023 editionas well.[2]<\/sup><\/a> This festival represents the attempt by the aforementioned Traf\u00f3 to channel experimental energy into the international pulse, and his work is key to the survival of the independent theatre community. In addition to dunaPart, the selection included additional works such as film. Although G\u00e1bor Reisz has recently directed theatre productions, he is better known as a movie-director and was invited to Hellerau to premier his 2018-film.<\/p>\n\n\n

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Viktor Szeri in fatigue. <\/em>Photo: J\u00e1nos R. Szab\u00f3<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

The Nebenan Festival adopted various new approaches in the Hungarian experimental field. For instance, a greater number of participatory works are present in the sector today as well as in the selection of work chosen for the festival, which requires a different kind of participation from the spectator that tests our limits. Also, it is no longer the case that permanent theatre or dance companies predominate in Hungary; project- work is well represented in the program, and many of the performers collaborate in numerous works.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Many aesthetic advantages have materialized as a result of these new tendencies, but at the same time, the independent creators involved have experienced greater existential insecurity. For practical reasons, many solo-performances such as the aforementioned fatigue<\/em> have also appeared in the programme: it is easier for a one-man show to travel, and it is also easier financially to promote solo performances in present-day Hungary.<\/p>\n\n\n

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Jenna Jalonen, Ring. <\/em>Photo: Gergely Ofner<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

Creative new structural models have been designed for operations; for example, the SUB.LAB.PRO<\/a> trains young dancers in a work environment that replicates technically and creatively the conditions of a large dance company. The program is \u201cfinancially self-sustained, and the participation fee covers the salary of teachers and choreographers, studio rental, video and photo documentation fees, costume, administration and other organisational expenses. The program receives minimal government support.\u201d The actual performance may also benefit from the recent pattern of diminishing opportunities, as the above-mentioned difficulties and circumstances intervene and penetrate the aesthetic structure of the production.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The influence of COVID was apparent in several pieces such as in Viktor Szeri’s (*1993) seemingly still while evidently quite engaging performance which presents the state of being burned-out. The minimalistic choreography by another emerging artist, R\u00e9ka Oberfrank (*1994), Miracle<\/em> is also the result of her being alone during the quarantine-period. The dancer had to spend long hours alone in her own room, rediscovering parts of her body which lead her to realize that she did not need a great new technique as long as she had her body and the music by \u00c1ron Porteleki.<\/p>\n\n\n

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Hungarian resident artists in Hellerau (left to right): Haibo ILL\u00c9S, Rich\u00e1rd MELYK\u00d3; Hel\u00e9n TAMASK\u00d3 \u2013 Photo: M\u00e1ty\u00e1s Czegl\u00e9di; Katalin BIT\u00d3 \u2013 photo: Klaus Gigga<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

One of my favourite works was created by a Hellerau artist in residence, Katalin Bit\u00f3 (*1991), who’s art is also inspired by the narrowing field as she uses contemporary dance to explore conceptually how her paid jobs, which she depends on for survival, influence her aesthetic choices as a dancer. Her decisions are based on many factors apart the deficits in her life. Without romanticising the fact that she does not make a living from dance, Bit\u00f3 objectively shows that it is precisely the seemingly boring jobs that become her resources and her inspiration.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I would also like to mention Hellerau\u2019s residency programme curated by Janka Dold. The Raw Quakes<\/em> by Haibo Ill\u00e9s and Rich\u00e1rd Melyk\u00f3 (*1994) is a unique lecture performance during which two socially awkward intellectuals sit on stage, delivering an unusual lecture and using the complex metaphor of earthquakes to connote a variety of natural, personal and political meanings. Another impressive work is Hel\u00e9n Tamask\u00f3\u2019s (*2000) inspiring dance piece which explores the state of death.<\/p>\n\n\n

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L\u00e1szl\u00f3 G\u00f6nd\u00f6r in Living a Dream with Grandma. <\/em>Photo: Gergely Ofner<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

A higher level of personality  (autobiography) can also be noted in the program. These confessions are often also shaped by critical circumstances, sometimes with a heeling power. It was only during the COVID crisis when L\u00e1szl\u00f3 G\u00f6nd\u00f6r (*1986) could finally find the time to move together with his Holocaust surviving grandma. Living the Dream with Grandma <\/em>depicts an intimate portrayal about grandmother- and son which intimacy on stage is obtained thanks to a crisis (COVID). It is the most compelling work on the Holocaust which I have seen thus far. Whenever the horror of genocide is depicted artistically, ethical questions arise concerning the exploitation of another person\u2019s trauma for the purpose of creating art. In the autobiographical production by L\u00e1szl\u00f3 G\u00f6nd\u00f6r, however, this dilemma is treated with both candor and irony. For example, the narrator beseeches his grandmother to help him, \u201cGrandma, I am nobody in my profession, please help me, who, if not you?!\u201d, and of course Grandma helps. We also hear the voice of the remarkable grandmother and witness her unique personality while we also recognize a very unusual character in the third-generation grandson. Nonetheless, the topic of the Holocaust itself remains largely undeveloped, which might be seen by some as the appropriate response to the dilemma.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Another highly esteemed production from this year\u2019s festival (2023-24) was staged by Lili Monori (*1945), actress and underground theatermaker. This autonomous solo is an ode to art against dictatorship: let this dictator be a prime minister or the theatre director. In her piece, Lili Monori is her own director, creating an aesthetic from her character as an outsider, confessing that she lives under the line in Hungary, making unique, underground theatre from deprivation. This year, the audience of Wiener Festwochen could see Lili Monori perform in Korn\u00e9l Muncrucz\u00f3\u2019s Parallax<\/em> by Proton Theatre. As one of the greatest Hungarian actresses of our time, she has perfected the delivery of a very natural style as she discusses her artistic credo. This conscious choice forced her to the periphery in Hungary both professionally and existentially. This underground, almost civilian tone that Monori uses, not to mention that often she speaks in Hungarian with no subtitles, makes the situation a little absurd. Still, the audience responds to Monori with deep emotion as they listen to her performance.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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