Műcsarnok, until 15th February 2009
1200Ft.


Műcsarnok
Thomas Ruff doesn't so much take photographs as 'take' them. However, Ruff is no petty thief nor is he a rip-off merchant. A great deal of his photographic output has to do with the appropriation and manipulation of images into a broader conceptual idea.

One of his greatest concerns is commentary on the image as well as photography as a medium, to illustrate first-hand that a photograph is not in fact what Roland Barthes would call the “spectrum” - the actual things being photographed. Rather, Ruff’s work concentrates on Barthes’ “stadium” - the interpretation and contextualization - or in Ruff’s case, re-contextualization and de-contextualization. He is not so much a Photographer as he is an Artist, or Mediator.

His most noted work to date is his jpeg series where he pulls somewhat iconic images from the Internet - such as the freshly attacked, yet still standing, Twin Towers in New York - blows them up to enormous proportions (the long side usually measuring around 3 meters), and pixelates them, removing information which renders them unrecognizable at close range. However, the image of the 9/11 attack (ny02, 2004) is missing from the show, bringing into doubt how representative this “retrospective” actually is.

His other noteworthy series that features photos pulled and manipulated from the Web are his Nudes, a series of pornographic photos. The artist doesn’t pixelate these images in the same manner but instead blurs them, bringing countless genitals, plastic-looking breasts and vinyl lingerie into the realm of what might just border on tastefulness.


Some of the work in the exhibition will have you wondering what exactly Ruff considers photography in the first place. His Substratum series, for example, just looks like old iTunes visualizer screen shots. Similarly, in the Zycles series, which takes centre stage in the exhibition space, Ruff uses computer formulas to create huge psychedelic canvases, which he likens to children’s meaningless scribbles. And meaningless they are, especially with the sub-par explanations he gives with each series. Perhaps he reveals too much; that there really isn't as much going on behind each photo as one might give him credit for.

National Theatre
Komor Marcell u. 1 [map]
Pest South, IX Millenniumi Kulturális Központ (T2) 3 min

Sunday night and a foray to the National Theatre to see a performance of an English-language comedy, The Complete Works of William Shakespeare.

The concept: every one of Shakespeare's plays performed by three players in two hours. As you might imagine, some of the bard's larger themes get glossed over in this format. This play was written by some prog-rock sounding trio called Long-Singer-Borgeson and is performed at the Nemzeti by a dramatic troupe called the Madhouse Theater Company.

Mike Kelly, Matt Devere and Andrew Hefler make up the cast. And, as you also might have imagined by now - it's a comedic spoof.

I had heard about this play and its long Budapest run many times. But the main circumstance that put me in the seats was not a review or knowledge of the text. It was a chance encounter with cast member Matt Devere in a Budapest watering hole - 6tus - a few weeks ago that brought me there. After he'd bought me my fifth Unicum, I pledged to see his show within the month.

On Sunday I was good as my word. Navigating a convoluted system of Metro, trams and buses brought us to the National Theater (Nemzeti Szinház), part of a relatively new complex that also includes the Palace of Arts (Művészetek Palotája or MUPA). The Palace of Arts building is quite handsome. I can't say the same for the theater building - a marriage of late-19th century neo-Hungarian excess and 21st century XIII district condominum.

But it's what goes on inside that counts. And the inside of the theater was packed, mostly with what I assumed to be rich Hungarian teens and their chaperones. A full house for a play that is not new on a Sunday night - very impressive.

And the play did not disappoint the packed house. The Complete Works of William Shakespeare is not so much a theatrical piece but an elaborate comedy sketch. The script is loose and unfocused, but the production is amply held together by the charisma of the three players. There are a few moments (a few too few, perhaps) where the true dramatic talents of the players are juxtaposed against the slapstick of the material: certainly the most entertaining bits of the evening.

For the record, the play ends with Hamlet being done in 90 seconds - backwards. What a piece of work is a man! How infinite in faculties, in form and moving how express and admirable! Especially when cross-dressing as Ophelia with buck teeth or running about the stage in reverse gear with a rubber knife through thine own cursed head!

SF.

This article originally appeared on sfinbudapest.com. Read more from SF here.

Equus - Auditions

A while ago, we covered the debut play from Equus productions: Equus, the story of one boy's love affair with a horse (to put it crassly.) Review here.

We'd been pretty skeptical about English theatre in Budapest, but were actually very impressed with what Equus managed to put together. Now they're starting a new project and you, who never got the breaks, you, who could have been a contender, might want to audition.

"Equus Productions is seeking artistic minded people both creative and performing for its Spring Production. Three Male actors - playing ages 20's, 30's & 40's; One Female playing age 40 + ... (Nationality irrelevant)
Auditions to be held in early December. Interested ???
Telephone Rhett on 06 30 955 5882 or email equusproductions@gmail.com for more details."

"I coulda been somebody, instead of a bum, which is what I am, let's face it."

Don't miss your chance.

Andy Sz.

Quantum of Solace review

I have a theory about James Bond which might prove unpopular with hardcore fans. This is that for a long time, the Broccolis have been quietly pulling off one of the boldest scams in motion picture history. By simply switching things around, they’ve managed to get away with remaking the same movie over and over again, for forty-six years.

It’s a singular achievement, put into perspective by imagining how tiresome twenty-two versions of any other film would be. Jaws, for example. The Neverending Story, Part 22. By now, these film sagas wouldn't be playing to packed houses, they'd be direct-to-video bombs, featuring Z-list stars and occasional cameos from people who should know better. Like Malcolm McDowell or Mick Jagger.

Personally, I gave up on Bond a long time ago, so it was a pleasant surprise that 2006’s Casino Royale turned out to be really rather good. Inspired by the Bourne movies, the franchise looked to have taken a big step forward. Casino Royale was lean and tough, the story was engaging, and in Daniel Craig, we had the best Bond in decades.

It’s unfortunate then, that Quantum of Solace has undone pretty much all of this excellent work. I wish I could summarise the story but I had absolutely no idea what was going on - apart from the fact it had something to do with Bond’s dead girlfriend, the shadowy but boring Quantum organisation, and an environmental terrorist.

There’s a traditional formula for Bond films - a breathtaking pre-credits stunt, followed by thirty to forty dull minutes of plot exposition, after which Bond hooks up with a babe and chases people all over the globe (and sometimes into space). Obviously aware that Bond stories are stymied by this template, the writers of Quantum of Solace have departed from it by dispensing with the initial plot development section altogether. Instead, they spend the first third of the film whipping Craig around the world at breakneck speed, which has the unfortunate effect of making Quantum of Solace seem like the Holiday programme, but with fighting.

All of this isn’t very interesting, and it’s easy to slip into a soporific state during the copious action set-pieces. In fact, I was far more taken with the dazzlingly surreal universe this film dreams up - one where a beautiful female secret agent can meet Bond at a Haitian airport wearing nothing but a brown trenchcoat and boots. Immediately, the two British government employees check into a hotel and get busy, before receiving an invitation to a party…. that evening! She hasn’t a thing to wear! Leave it with me, says Bond, and arranges for her to get some clothes and have her hair done.

However, that particular scene has nothing on the bizarre ten minute sequence in which Bond steals a plane and crash-lands in the middle of the Bolivian desert. Eventually, he climbs out of a crater then walks for hours in the midday sun, dressed in a tuxedo, before rocking up to a dusty, ramshackle, one-horse town. There, he hops straight onto a public bus (the kind that comes along once every three days) and doesn‘t even bat an eyelid.

The whole film feels like a missed opportunity, especially after the efficient and exciting Casino Royale. Craig is good, but the problem with creating a grittier Bond is that if it isn't backed up by an interesting or partially believable story, it's difficult to know why you should care. Bond doesn't instantly become a deeper character just because he's mourning his girlfriend. Either way, it'll be interesting to see what happens next. Will Ms. Broccoli follow this up with yet another money-spinning, predictable action flick, or will she attempt to find some better source material (Sebastian Faulks, perhaps)? Wasting Daniel Craig would certainly be a shame.

Finally
, a word about that title, which has been widely dismissed as the worst ever. I’ve been mulling it over for a while, and I think to some extent I know what it's trying to say. ‘Bond 22 - An Amount of Comfort'. Whatever that means. It’s as pointless and daft as the film itself.

Andy T.

Petőfi Csarnok, Városliget,
19th December, 3490Ft

Pest, XIV, Széchenyi Fürdő, (M1) 5 min

Oh my Lord! Look who've cropped up in Budapest: Deliriou5? Yes. (It wasn't a question.)

A long time ago, in a town far away - Bedford, England, to be specific - I found myself at a Deliriou5? gig. It was held in a small church hall. There was a guy we knew called Sam whose family were members of a small, groovy kind of church that may or may not have been a cult. (I don't know where the distinction is drawn.) His mum argued with us about how the eye evolved.

When Sam invited us to the gig, I was a little suspicious. "They're not going to be really Goddy, are they? I'm not coming if they're Goddy." "No, they're not Goddy," he lied. My friend Stephen was angling for Sam's sister, so I think I had some kind of fluffer duty, especially as I was the one with the car.

The little hall was packed, and Sam went over to Deliriou5? (I can't help saying it like that), who hugged him, patted him on the shoulders and the like, and looked all chummy. I looked around at the audience; not a very rock 'n' roll audience, in truth. The gig began and they had some kind of projector, like the ones you get at school, displaying the lyrics: "Father God, you heard the prayer; From deep within my spirit cried; If there's a God, come rescue me; Now here I stand, I'm saved by grace." That's quite Goddy, I thought.

Not as Goddy as it got just before the interval. A song ended in clouds of feedback... feedback that just kept feeding back. And as it fed and fed and fed, the singer raised his arms out straight on each side and began to mutter... "Thank you Jesus... thank you Jesus..." To my horror, the people around me began to raise their arms too, all murmuring "Thank you Jesus... Thank you Jesus." I looked across at Stephen. He wasn't murmering. "Thank you Jesus!", I thought.

The interval arrived and I was out of there like an atheist. A slightly shaken atheist at that. Stephen stayed. It got weirder. I think someone was cured of Leukemia or something like that. [I invite him to elaborate in the comments.]

Fast forward 14 years and they're playing Petőfi Csarnok. I don't know if it's likely to be quite as intense but, if someone suggests that you go, and you're not a religious nutcase, don't say that you haven't been warned. On the other hand, it is their farewell tour, so if you're looking for God in the form of mediocre rock, it might be a while before the chance comes again. Tickets here.
delirious; delerious, delirius, delerius Andy Sz.

Shame on Hungary for not bringing Animal Collective to their capital city. This band, originally from Baltimore but at present split between Portugal and the States, are producing some of the most innovative rock music around. And recently, they've been churning it out faster than Hartley's can make jam.

Their current tour has taken them to Slovakia, Vienna, and Poland, but not Budapest - Animal Collective wanted to play here but just couldn't sort out a gig. Still, that wasn't going to stop us. Last week we made the three hour trip to Bratislava for what turned out to be a stunningly good concert, and beforehand, thehub joined up with Dave Porter (aka Avey Tare) to discuss the tour, the new album, and Crayola crayons.
__________________________________

Hub: How’s it all been going?

Dave Porter: Yeah, well. The tour’s been pretty good.

H: It’s an interesting set of locations. A lot of people skip this part of the world.

DP: I think we always make a point, even in the US, of not going back to the sa
me places. It’s not like we have anything against going anywhere but it can get a bit monotonous. A lot of people message us and say 'why don’t you come here', or 'why don’t you play there…'

H: Have you had a lot of people requesting you to come here?
DP: Bratislava I don’t know, I couldn’t tell you about specific places but for a while now
, maybe like a year or two years, we’ve wanted to do a Central and Eastern European tour just because we never get over this way.

H: What did you expect before you came?

DP: I didn’t know what to expect, definitely not as big crowds or as much enthusiasm as we’ve seen so far. I guess only now we’re getting to the heart of places we’ve never been to. We’ve been to Poland and Vienna before and the shows there were great this time too, even better, a lot crazier than I expected. It seems like it's been mostly sold out.

H: A lot of people won’t have seen you before. Has that affected what you do in your sets?
DP: Not really, we’ve been playing the same set of songs now since last Spring when we started writing our new record and we always try to play a lot of new material live. Over the year we’ve been throwing in a lot of old songs as well to mix it up a little, so it doesn’t feel like we’re playing the same set over and over again. We have like 26 songs we can play. We’ve been playing them so much and touring so much that we’re jamming a little bit more.


H: You’ve finished the new album [Merriweather Post Pavilion, due in January]. Is that mainly what you’re playing now?
DP: I’d say half of our set is stuff from the record.

H: And given that you always work ahead, are you performing anything newer than the new album at the moment?

DP: No. We’re working on this visual project. In terms of new material, we’ve been spending a lot of time on that lately and we hope to finish the musical part by December - we’ve got some studio time then. It’s the first time we’ve ever written a lot of new material that we’re not going to play live any time soon. We haven’t really had a lot of time with wanting to just be at home.

H: About the new record, was the writing and recording for Merriweather Post Pavilion similar to Strawberry Jam?
DP: No, not really. Strawberry Jam when we started was a little bit more open ended. We were going on tour for Feels and decided to write some new material for that. It was kind of haphazard at first because we had our initial writing session for Strawberry Jam in Lisbon. It took a little while to get used to the environment - we had a lot of problems with the studio space there and I think that contributed to it being a slower process. With the new one we had a bunch of ideas and we were enthusiastic to start writing as soon as we were done recording Strawberry Jam. Noah [Panda Bear] and I sent demos and melodies to each other and to Brian [Geologist]. Josh [Deakin] had decided that he didn’t want to tour for a while which pretty much meant we started to work on a new record without him. So it was a little bit different. We wrote most of it really quickly and the first tour after Strawberry Jam we had foundations for almost all of the songs.

H: Did that have anything to do with it being your second record on Domino and being more comfortable with them?

DP: I think it was just knowing more what we wanted to do going into it, whereas with Strawberry Jam when we first started writing the songs we didn’t know what was going to go on the record or even what kind of record it would be. This one we had a clear picture. [Various MPP tracks here, here, here, and here].

H: With your aliases and the kind of music you play, Anim
al Collective seem like a band that could distance yourself from your fans but in fact, with the bootlegs and so on, it’s the complete opposite. You’re very accessible. Is that something you’ve wanted from the beginning?
DP: Sort of, I think it goes in both directions. When we starte
d it wasn’t even called Animal Collective. We wanted the name of the band on the record to be whoever was playing, like Avey Tare and Panda Bear, so it would just be the label Animal that put out our records. Starting to tour more it became Animal Collective because we needed a name. We thought it would be better for people to recognise us. We had this back and forth between wanting there to be a bit of mystery. With the records and the music we don’t like to divulge too much information. We like to keep this kind of mystique about the records, to be their own world, their own environment so we don’t really talk about how they’re recorded. I don’t think we’d ever do one of those ’Animal Collective in the Studio’ things. For us it’s got to be this slightly mysterious world.

H: It seems like a happy medium, not too much and not too little.

DP
: Yeah. At the same time we’re like, just normal guys. It was always really important to us that we didn’t have like a rock and roll attitude, like we’re above everybody else. We wanted to go beyond that and have it as an experience that everybody shared together musically. Talking to people and hanging out with people when we can is part of that.


H: In many ways, it seems like you guys can do no wrong. Almost everything written about you is positive. Do you feel pressure from that or is it something that doesn't register, perhaps because you’re in the middle of it?
DP: Pressure only to deliver certain things, information for example. We have this message board that’s popular for fans to write on and I started to kind of distance myself from that, because being a part of it so much can affect the way you think about things. People can write what they like but for me personally, it’s not really any of my business.

H: It was probably different when you weren’t so popular…

DP: Maybe a little bit. It’s cool to be involved in some form and it’s a good source of information. It’s cool that fans can ask questions and we can go on it but at the same time, it’s not really an important part of the music making process.


H: You've become a household name. Is that something you think about?
DP: Not really, we just feel pressure to write records that we’re excited about, because we’ve been doing it for so long. Getting larger has always gone at a natural pace. There was a point when we put out Sung Tongs and we’d go to a 200 capacity club and suddenly it was sold out. It was like wow, people are coming out to see us. We always want
ed that to happen and always wanted as many people as possible to be into our music but you never really know where it’s going to go.

H: Is playing these smaller European venues a way of revisiting your early days?
DP: In a way. The past couple of European tours I’ve felt we were breaking through. It helps to have all these songs out there on the internet. It’s crazy to go somewhere and people know songs that you haven’t put out on a record. It blows our minds. When we put out Strawberry Jam, I felt there were places in Europe that we still needed to crack.

H: Funny to hear an American artist talking about ‘crac
king’ Eastern Europe…
DP: Yeah, in America we instantly started to tour. Back then it was before the internet became a really popular tool, so touring was the only way of getting our band known. It was easy just to hop in a van for two or three weeks, but we had to find a way of managing that because the States is so big.


H: Have you guys been having fun being in sma
ller cities here?
DP: It’s hard because the time and the set up that we have is in
tense and long, so it’s a lot of work. This tour we’ve been trying to go out to bars and stuff after the shows, to talk to people and hang out.

H: One last thing, I wanted to ask you about your commercial.
DP: Yeah, for Crayola.


H: I had the TV on one day and I saw it and was like, I know that song, it’s Sweet Road. How did that come about?
DP: We get offered commercials all the time. Our publisher wants us to make money, obviously, but it’s not really something we’re enthusiastic about, attaching our music to somebody else’s product.


H: Well, a lot of parents would be probably be delighted to hear Animal Collective. I applaud you for it.
DP: Yeah, it’s the only one we’ve ever done. But I guess Crayola crayons were always pretty important for me growing up…

__________________________________

A fresh box of colourful crayons isn't a bad analogy for Animal Collective's music - playful and raucous, experimental and complex - however you choose to describe it, there's certainly a hell of a lot of colours in there. And from what we've heard, it should be a happy new year. Merriweather Post Pavilion is going to be a bumper 150 crayon pack.




(Interview:Andy T, Jacob P
Photos: Jacob P)

Millenáris Fogadó,until 19th October
10:00 - 20:00
1800 HUF/adult; 840 HUF/student
Fény utca 20-22 [map] Buda, II, Moszkva tér (M2), 5 min

If you’ve been in Budapest for too long and yearn to travel around the world but only have a Sunday afternoon and a thousand or so forint to spare, fear not: World Press Photo 08 to the rescue.
The organization puts together the world’s most prestigious and well-traveled contest (the exhibition gets around to almost 50 countries) for excellence in photojournalism. The diverse pool of jurors is made up of experienced photographers and industry specialists from around the globe, which is reflected in the content of the show.
There are plenty of truly astonishing photographs: Brent Stirton’s murdered gorilla in the Congo looks a lot like a film still from 1995's, Congo, a credit to them both. Clark Detrick’s shot of an eye-gouging on the court of a college basketball game is both lucky and stomach-churning, while Vanessa Winship’s black and white portraits of Turkish school girls hark back to the work of Diane Arbus. Chuck Close, a well known American artist, although not for his photography, contributes a welcome diversion in his daguerreotype portrait of current civil rights silhouette artist, Kara Walker, (work that one out.) Meanwhile, Yonathan Weitzman’s depiction of an African girl’s dress caught on barbed wire at the Israel/Egypt border will have you staring for more than a few seconds.
Hungarian photographers also stand out. Balazs Gardi took first prize in the General News category for his black and white shots covering the US and Afghan army in Afghanistan. Closer to home, Zsolt Szigetváry’s poignant shot of an injured gay couple at a parade in Budapest brings Hungary's own problems into the foreground.
It is not necessarily the composition or the quality of the photography that earns a photograph high marks on World Press Photo’s list. Take John Moore’s first prize work in Spot News. His most important shots were extremely blurry, a result of his first-hand presence at the assassination - by way of suicide bombing - of Pakistani Prime Minister, Benazir Bhutto. The fact that he was able to make any photographs amidst the frenzy of the explosion makes for an incredible story.
This excellent exhibition is, however, not without its shortcomings. The building at Millenáris looks more like a warehouse or garage, with its gritty, untreated cement floors, making it feel like you’re looking at prestigious photographs while getting your car's oil changed. Many of the photos also seem to be of poor print quality (i.e., grainy, pixilated), though you may feel this is only a minor detraction.
The inclusion of some of the photos certainly pushes the limits of photojournalism: Travis Dove’s shots of famed US skateboarding anarchy haven, Skatopia, for example. The photographs suggest that the presence of a photographer wasn't exactly passive, which might not fit too well with photojournalism’s code of ethics.

Nevertheless, it would take much more than a slightly dubious series of photos to detract from the wide ranging and superb content that is displayed in the majority of the exhibition.


Jacob P.

MUPA, 17th September
Komor Marcell u. 1
Pest South, IX Millenniumi Kulturális Központ (T2) 3 min
For the tail-end of summer, yesterday was particularly bitter. The fact that the temperature here has plummeted may well have put the willies up the organisers of the MOL Jazz Festival - over the next three days, the festival shifts to a 'jazz tent' on the banks of the Danube.
That's a stones throw away from the buildings that house the awful, shiny clubs Buddha Beach and Inside but thankfully, last night’s Opening Gala was at the Palace of Arts - a venue that is shiny, not awful and most importantly inside, rather than near it.

Only two acts were on the bill, which indicated that lessons might have been learnt from the previous year. 2007’s Opening Gala was a long concert, which felt like a long concert - not helped by an unnecessarily drawn-out set from excitable German vocalist Michael Schiefel, who liked the sound of his own voice so much that he looped it for half an hour. By the time the excellent Richard Galliano appeared, the audience had started to drift away.

The bulk of last night’s show was given over to a screening of Dans La Nuit, with Louis Sclavis performing his score live. It's a work which treads a fine line between jazz, classical, and incidental music - but more on that later.

There was no doubt about how to classify the opening act; the Modern Art Orches
tra, an eighteen piece big band made up of some prodigiously talented Hungarian musicians. This was a powerful group, at its best when sticking to a more traditional big band sound, instead of the jazz-tinged contemporary composition which started the proceedings. Mid tempo, heavy on atmosphere, with lots of moody swells and murky chords - I was left with the impression that they were either building slowly, or keeping something in the tank.

Their set picked up with the introduction of 19-year old tenor saxophonist Gábor Bolla. After a breathless start, in which Bolla seemed intent on playing as many notes as he could, as fast as possible, it became breathless in a good way. The opening to their final piece, driven by some thunderous drumming, was a standout moment. While the MAO's performance might not have caught fire for any sustained period, at the very least their inclusion gave the programme a welcome balance.

On to Sclavis then, whose music for Dans La Nuit, a 1929 silent film, was composed at the request of Bertrand Tavernier. It was a smart move that drew attention to Charles Vanel's neglected classic (even though the majority of people who have heard the album won’t have seen the movie). Personally, I've never felt this was one of Sclavis’ best records - I couldn’t shake the idea that rating it highly would be akin to calling Godfather II a masterpiece, after only having seen it with the sound off.

Rare, but undeservedly so - Dans La Nuit really is a fantastic film, the heartbreaking story of a man who shortly after getting married, suffers a gruesome accident which leaves him wearing a mask. Horrified, his wife starts an affair. There’s a patchy history of modern scores for silent movies, but it quickly became apparent that, as well as being one of the most important contemporary jazz musicians around, Sclavis is also an exceptionally gifted composer.

Listening to the CD requires you to fill in a hell of a lot of blanks. Military drums - some kind of army procession. A distant clarinet note over relentless percussion - a train...? After ten minutes, it was abundantly clear that I had all the wrong answers. In fact, the military drums underscore a procession after a wedding ceremony. A trembling, tense marimba solo in 'Mauvais Reve' fills what should be a joyous celebration with a sense of foreboding. The more meandering passages found a point and the recurring main theme, which I've always thought was archaic, folksy and really rather nice, became infinitely darker and more complex.

At times there was just too much to take in. The ensemble sat with their backs to the audience, but even so, I found my eyes drifting away from the screen and towards the musicians. They cut loose a lot more than I'd expected, with some brilliant, dissonant improvisation from the violinist, Dominique Pifarely. A virtuosic bass clarinet drone at the film's climax had my eyes on Sclavis rather than the action, but to single moments out is almost ridiculous - the playing was uniformly magnificent.

Disappointingly, only the ground floor was open yesterday. The first and second floors were nearly empty, apart from a handful of photographers... and what’s with people leaving early at MUPA? Perhaps they knew about the film's sub-GCSE ‘it was all a dream’ ending, tacked on at the request of the studio. Anyway, it was a shame. This was a performance which warranted a full house, and raucous, heartfelt applause.

Words by Andy T.
Pictures by Jacob P.

LUMU, until 16th November,
1200 ft (discounts available)
Komor Marcell u. 1 [map]
Pest, IX, Boraros tér (T 4,6), 8 min

Hot on the heels of what would have been Keith Haring’s 50th birthday (4 May), Budapest’s Ludwig Museum of Contemporary Art has brought a prominent American artist’s work to Hungary.


The fact that most of the pieces in the Haring exhibition span only a few years is a bit of a disappointment but you can hardly hold that against the Ludwig — AIDS tragically and bitterly cut his life short seventeen years ago, at the ripe age of 31. Having said that, while there are only so many fruitful years from an artist who dies young, the exhibition did seem to lack certain items that would have helped show the diversity in Haring’s graffiti-inspired expressions.

Although it isn’t billed as a retrospective, there is perhaps a simple solution: some of his famed chalk drawings from the NYC subways would have made it come close (if indeed, any were even saved or preserved). Instead the museum attempts to sum up Haring’s life with a pretty lacklustre timeline as you walk up the stairs. Check Keith striking a vogue with Madonna in that Polaroid! Wow-wee!

Haring’s work balances many aspects of living in America in the 1980s (New York City to be exact) — consumerism, the backlash against the advertising industry, the AIDS crisis, and race. Haring managed to pull this off without being preachy. Cheeky, yes, but fantastically so. The result is something extremely thought-provoking, certainly what the artist was shooting for in a time with so much cultural garbage.

One thing anyone will notice after stepping through the door is the prevalence of penises in probably 80% (my rough estimate) of his work. Any guy who can use that sheer amount of phallic representation, and continually come up with something new must have had something going on upstairs.

Personally, I’m a fan of art that doesn’t take you days to extract a deep meaning from and Haring’s use of well-known cultural symbols to drum up discourse is intelligent without being over-bearing. As far as I‘m concerned, Warhol never seemed to say that much, but Haring takes Warhol‘s ideas a step beyond.

Take for example, one of the larger pieces from the show, Prophets of Rage, 1988
. It’s homage to his buddy Jean-Michel Basquiat just before his fatal drug overdose. There’s a ton of cultural symbols: the oppressed black man, crumbling religion, a suffering and decapitated Jesus, power, money…. Point is, you can use signifiers to come up with something new that will remain relevant.

One of my biggest qualms with the exhibition in general is the fact that the main piece used in advertising it, 1982’s Untitled (the ‘red dog figure tossin’ around those two green dudes‘, as I like to call it) is grossly misrepresented in all of the promotional material for the show. If you’ve got a set of working eyes and have been in Budapest for any length of time, even an airport layover, then you’ll probably have seen some sort of publicity for the exhibition - specifically this piece.

Well, if you do go, check it out, not that you have any choice. This thing is NEON! NOT the primary red and yellow plastered onto posters all around Budapest. I’m talking spandex bicycle shorts, Day-Glo snap bracelets, “surfs up dude”, full on 80s neon. Maybe they didn’t want to spoil the vivid, eye-aching sensation of actually seeing the piece up close… although, I guess I just did.

All told, Haring’s work is definitely worth a trip to the Ludwig, whether you're a fan, on the fence... or even if you just have absolutely no idea who this guy is.

Jacob P.

Holdudvar, Margit sziget, [map]
Between Buda and Pest, II, Margit hid (T4/6), 5 min
Budsucs website/tickets here (usually hosted in Repeta Sarok)

It's Friday night and tonight, Budsucs occupies the usually calm space at the back of Holdudvar. The name is terrible but the cause is noble: English language comedy in Budapest.

Now, I'm one of those people who's quite hard to please when it comes to comedians, so if you're not and you laugh at anything, don't bother with this review and just go anyway. Presumably, as the numbers swell, the selection of comedians that they can lure out here will multiply, so your very presence is a kind of pro-comedy demonstration. But for anyone who wants an idea of what to expect...

I can't look at a compère without thinking of Alexei Sayle's bumbling Bobby Chariot, who would have gone down well enough here, since people were generally geared-up/beered-up for laughing. This one was nothing out of the ordinary but in fairness, he was as sharp and as he needed to be, as he accosted members of the audience and ad-libbed some semi-offensive response or other. Swiftly on then to the comedians.

Brett Schafer is from LA but now lives in Budapest. That's pretty much his act, combined with a very nervy start. (It does look as though he's still finding his feet.) Like many Americans in Europe he felt the need to bang on about what people think about Americans, which was a bit irritating in my book. Perversely, people wanted to laugh, but they weren't really sure when they were supposed to.

Liam Mullone, on the other hand, had a relaxed, Izzard-esque approach and demonstrated the kind of standard Budsucs should be aiming for. I’d seen a bit of his material before (here), which he repeated on the night, and happily it stood up to a second hearing. Delivery is half the game in stand-up and whether you can make a list of Surf’s top stains funny or not is a good test. He did. He also enjoyed some banter with a dog in the audience (really, it was a dog), which demonstrated that rarest quality: wit. (The banter demonstrated the wit. The dog was a dullard.)

Tinky Winky followed. He calls himself Dave Thompson now but he shot to fame when the BBC decided that the seven-foot Tellytubby wasn't behaving as a Tellytubby should. His “interpretation of the role was not acceptable”, apparently. The same charge might be levelled at him this evening as his comedy was distinctly hackneyed. He was persistent, certainly. Fearless, yes. But even this kindest of audiences was groaning more than laughing. “Men are twenty times more likely to get cancer of the testicles... I’m happy to say all three of mine are fine.” It was like watching The Comedians. Plenty of jokes with a one percent hit-rate. BBC, please reinstate him.

So what does that say about Budsucs? Judging by Liam Mullone’s last minute revision of his notepad at the bar, it’s probably a bit daunting to come out and test the audience here: an unknown that many comedians can live without. And although Dave Thompson didn’t do a lot for me, he has at least got some kind of credentials, having worked with Harry Hill, Dipsy, La La and Po. A mixed bag of comedians, therefore, was still enough to show that Budsucs is doing something right. Overall: entertaining and, crucially, it puts Budapest on the comedy circuit.
budsucks bud sucs sucks
Andy Sz.

Dave Thompson plays Letchworth Arts Centre on 6th September.
Liam Mullone is on the telly on Wednesday 3rd September (Sky News) and doing the rounds in the UK. Dates here.
Brett Schafer will crop up at Budsucs again, I’m sure.

Kontroll (2003)

One recent Hungarian film I’ve heard an awful lot about is the subway system drama Kontroll. Released in 2003, this was a big domestic hit for director Nimród Antal who immediately bought a single ticket to Hollywood, where he went on to make this rubbish.

On paper though, Kontroll sounds interesting. A film set in the world of miserable Budapest ticket controllers? A critique, perhaps, of the much-maligned Hungarian public transport system, shot on location? Sign me up.

Sadly, Kontroll isn’t very good at all. In fact, it’s a tiresome mess, hovering uneasily between quirky comedy, quirky thriller and quirky romance, the lack of a clear focus giving the unfortunate impression that Nimród was making it all up as he went along. I suppose that ultimately, it would fall into the category of a ‘yoof’ movie, a little like Doug Liman’s Go, or more worryingly, any of Guy Ritchie’s empty, London-based films. The action is frenetically edited, and underscored by a thumping, but lame soundtrack from NEO, which constantly reminds you that if you aren’t under 25 you probably won't get the most out of this film.

Kontroll tells the story of a group of ticket collectors, led by Bulcsú (Sándor Csányi), a man who works, sleeps, and lives in the subway …(although he doesn’t, as far as I can recall, eat Subway). The rest of his crew are a weird bunch of freaks - there’s a convincingly shabby, moustachioed controller, a grizzled veteran, a narcoleptic, and the thick new boy who, for no reason whatsoever, has wheels in the bottom of his shoes. The other characters aren’t much better - we’re introduced to a pretty girl who wears a bear costume (for no reason whatsoever), a rival crew of controllers who hate Bulcsú’s gang (for no reason whatsoever), and a psychotic maniac who pushes pedestrians under trains (for no reaso…. pfffff. You get the idea).

With very little in the way of character development, the film ends up wearing its weirdness like a badge, the sprawling, claustrophobic underground system reminiscent of the effectively bizarre worlds created by Jeunet et Caro, or Terry Gilliam’s Brazil. Only, Nimród’s underground world seems flimsy and pointless - in my book, ten genre-hopping sub-plots don’t make a story. So... Bulcsú is afraid to leave the underground system… where he has these ‘hilarious’ encounters with passengers…. and everyone thinks he’s the pedestrian-pushing maniac... but, he falls in love… 'oooookaaay.' Finally though, so what? I was left firmly stranded at the station.

It’s in the comic sections that Kontroll disappoints the most. Nimród opts for an unimaginative montage technique, and sets up a series of familiar encounters between controllers and ticketless passengers, Japanese tourists, and beautiful women… then, rather than writing funny material, makes everybody SHOUT! It’s like being stuck in a lift with a boisterous six year old.

Interestingly, the film opens with a monologue from a BKV spokesperson who embraces, but also distances himself from ‘his friend’ Antal’s film. There certainly is a clever satire to be made about the flawed underground system here in Budapest, but this isn‘t it. How about a movie which tells the story of controller with a heart of gold, who cares about the passengers, doesn’t take great delight in finding people who are without a valid pass, and genuinely loves his job? Now that, I’d buy a ticket for.

Andy T.

Zöld Macska Diákpince
Pest South, IX, Üllői út 95 [map]
Klinikák (M3), 1 min

A complex psychological drama about a disturbed teenager is not the most obvious choice for the first play from a new production company. The decision to cast Hungarians in the lead roles of an English-language play might also raise eyebrows.

A little more detail doesn't make the prospects any rosier: Leo Ilyés, who plays psychiatrist, Martin Dysart, and Miklós Béres, who plays the troubled Alan Strang, have never performed in English before. Leo has to tackle several monologues while Miklós has a nude scene to handle. The auditorium is a cellar in a bar and the props are largely constructed from wire and bits of cardboard.

All of this sounds suspiciously like a recipe for disaster, but by ten o'clock, it's clear that the whole thing has worked out remarkably well.

The reason for this is that director, Rhett Stevens, knows what he's doing. His casting of Hungarians in English roles isn't as daft as it seems: actors who can handle the roles are rather more important than British accents. Also, it has lent the cast a sense of community and the play a wider purpose.

Leo explained his initial trepidation: "At the casting, Rhett asked me to read from an English text, and I looked at it and thought: I can't do it. I must have been pretty bad but he must have liked something." Leo also praised the entire cast who together helped him master the demands of the script, providing a full immersion environment to help develop his English.

Stevens' casting throughout is spot-on; I can't imagine the central characters in each other's roles. Miklós makes a convincing Alan. From boyish glee through teenage obstinacy, ecstasy and embarrassment, his delivery is excellent. He takes the role in his stride: whether getting into the mindset of a disturbed teenager or taking his clothes off in a packed but tiny auditorium. "I didn't even think about thinking about it", he says.

The production too is commendable. Humming sound effects, provided by the cast, are ominous and exciting at the same time, while the lighting feels professional despite the limited facilities. Moreover, the minimalist horse-riding scenes truly capture the imagination.

Equus is by no means perfect. There are a few fluffed lines here and there, some of the acting feels a little conscious, and the Hungarian accents are, at times, demanding for an English audience - although Stevens points out that the opposite is true for the Hungarian contingent.

This, in itself, alludes to the clear success of the production: Equus serves everybody. Both Hungarian and English audiences have a chance to see an ambitious English-language production, with absolutely no intention of dumbing down the script. Development of the actors is also mutually beneficial for Hungarians moving into English roles and English-speakers moving into acting.

The current run at Zöld Macska has just two performances left and if you're looking for gripping theatre, you'll get your money's worth at 1400Ft a ticket. But what next for Equus? Stevens hopes that Equus will pop up again for a few one-off performances but after the summer he'll turn his mind to a second production. He ponders for a moment... "I'd like to do a comedy."

The remaining performances of Equus take place at
Zöld Macska on 21st and 24th May, just across the road from the Klinikák metro stop on Line 3. Full details, cast and tickets here.
Equs, Echus, Echuus, Equous
Andy Sz.

"Where is my son? Get him up here - he'll show you how it's done!" And up he comes, Szilvási junior, to give us a display of the gypsy men's dance. Skipping, jumping, stamping, clapping, thigh-slapping, calf-slapping - it's so frenetic that his legs become a denim blur, but he's still full of grace and poise. But if your dad is the leader of the Szilvási Gipsy Folk Band, you'd have plenty of time to practice your dancing.

I climbed the long stairwell to Corvintető on Monday, certain I was going to enjoy the set. It was the first gig of their residency and it was pretty busy. At first people were shy to come into the centre of the dancefloor, and clung to the edges, bobbing up and down to the music. Every so often a gaggle of Roma girls, all dolled up in their bling and high heels, would come and do a fast jiggly dance, clicking their fingers with their arms high in the air.

Five songs into the band's set, and all the wallflowers were boogying unselfconsciously in the middle of the dancefloor.
The music requires little description - it's dependable, well-played good-time gyspy music. Have a listen on their website, or better still, come and hear them live. They often get guest bands in too, some from as far away as Italy. What really intrigued me about this gig though was the audience.

This is real Roma party, with the band bringing folks up onto the stage to show off their gypsy dancing skills. Szilvási István, the bandleader, kept shouting things out over the mic, like, "A cigányság nem diszkriminativ!" and other messages about social unity. The dancefloor filled up with people, and became a sweaty mass of Roma, Hungarians and the odd foreigner, all having fun dancing together. I know it's often said that music can break down social boundaries, but on that rainy Monday it seemed truer than ever.



Lucy F.



I have a little portable radio on my bedside table. Radio C wakes me up, and Bartók Rádió lulls me gently to sleep (unless they're playing Schoenberg of course, in which case I start having the dreams about the pins again). But enough about me. Here are the radio stations I like listening to:


Rádió
C - 88.8FM
www.radioc.hu

C stands for Gypsy. This is ‘Hungary’s first Roma radio’ as the tagline tells you in Hungarian. It's
mainly music, with some discussion programmes. Every weekday lunchtime 12:00-13:00 there’s traditional Roma music. Sometimes it plays really cheesy pop but thankfully always goes back the crazy cimbaloms sooner or later.
_________________________________

Bartók Rádió - 105.3FM
www.mr3.hu
Bartók Rádio is Hungary’s classical music radio. Click on Hangtár from their website and you’ll find a complete list of what you’re listening to. It’s not all straight classical –there’s also a lot of modern and experimental composers. Plus, they play jazz later on and the odd bit of folk. This is good stuff - I don’t miss BBC Radio 3 any more.
_________________________________

Tilos Rádió - 90.3FM
www.tilos.hu
Tilos started out in 1991 as a radio station run by pirates, but has grown into a legimitate, socially aware brand. It's an unpredictable mix - Balkan folk, Gamelan music, Studio One Reggae, rare funk and soul - anything goes, even if that means 45 minutes worth of instrumentals from Madvillain. Tilos parties, held in various venues around the city, are also worth a visit.
_________________________________

Folk Rádió – online only
www.folkradio.hu
Folkrádió is a not-for-profit, 24-hour online radio which plays, surprise surprise, traditional folk
music. All music, no talking, and the best thing is that the website tells you what you’re listening to at any given moment, so you can track down what you enjoy. If you’re into Hungarian folk this is a great resource.
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BBC World Service / Radio France Internationale - 92.1FM
www.bbc.co.uk/worldservice and www.rfi.fr
These two broadcast giants have reached an entente cordiale, and share a
radio station, mainly broadcasting in English and French, with snippets in German and Hungarian. C'est en français toute la journée à partir de 9h30, et juste quand les rosbifs prennent leurs gin tonics, from 6pm it's in English again.
Find programme schedules through the beeb's website.
_________________________________

And all the rest...

There's an awful lot of other radio stations in Hungary - these just my recommendations. To listen to all the rest online, a good web portal is Reciva.com -
here is the link for Hungarian stations.

All of the FM frequencies given are for the Budapest area. If you're listening from elsewhere, check out the local frequencies on the station's website.

Lucy F


 

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