Pest South, IX, Üllői út 95 [map]
Klinikák (M3), 1 min
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.
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.
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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.
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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.
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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,
Find programme schedules through the beeb's website.
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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
Lazar u. 16 [map]
Pest Centre, VI, Opera (M1), 1 min / Oktogon (T4/6), 3 min
I expected this to be awful – after all, it was described to me as poetry and improvising saxophones. Ghastly, I thought. But no, not at all.
One man plays instruments through a loop pedal, whilst another recites poetry rather slowly and nervously. It’s being filmed, and the lad holding the boom mic seems to be part of the act – he keeps lurching the big fluffy mic dangerously near our poet’s head, whilst nearly hitting audience members in the face with the other end. I’m enjoying the sideshow as well as the main attraction.
The poet, Dániel Dányi, reads his own material, jittery but purposeful. He has the kind of American accent you would expect to hear as a voice-over on an old black and white detective film. He pauses every so often to drink some wine, blink, eat a few more bites of a large pear, and let the musician do his thing.
The musician is Janó Nemes, who plays an electric bass, a tarnished sax and a flute through a loop pedal, by turns building up and taking away layers of rhythm and melody. It’s not showy or self-conscious, but rather melancholic and beautiful - he obviously likes Tom Waits. The sounds conjure up a rainy urban scene, and go perfectly with Dányi’s set of poems about Keleti and Nyugati.
This is one of the first events at the recently opened Treehugger Dan’s Bookstore Lounge, the first of many. Treehugger Dan himself tells us about the next few events – music from a UK singer-songwriter, a fair trade film night, acoustic Colombian music. At the end we all clap enthusiastically, put a donation in the hat, and take our teacups back to the bar. It's small and a bit righteous, but with cheap fair trade coffee, tea, eupathy, and thousands of good books, there are plenty of reasons to come back here.
Treehugger Dan’s Bookstore Lounge is in the lobby of Yellow Zebra, behind Opera House on Lázár u. 16. The original Treehugger Dan's Bookstore and Cafe on Csengery u. 48 is still open too. www.treehugger.hu
Lucy F
Budapest is described warmly but it’s the Hungarian language that attracts the lion’s share of the author’s admiration. His unbridled enthusiasm radiates from the central character. If your desire to learn Hungarian needs rekindling, 'Budapest' could provide the spark of inspiration.
Buarque delights in ambiguity, in dissolving the borders between people, places and, indeed, paragraphs. He's poetic, romantic, yet often frustrating. He'll lead you down certain roads, hiding ‘round corners and disappearing down side-streets at every opportunity. At times, the side-streets become the thoroughfares, resulting in an intriguing but exhausting journey.
The author’s dedication to a weaving plot made my relationship with narrator, Jose Kosta, a little turbulent. Unlikely situations and dubious decision-making sometimes wrecked my suspension of disbelief as Buarque stretched the plot to fit the skeleton of his post-modern ambitions.
Rather like Charlie Kaufman’s Adaptation, the self-referential plot is folded several layers thick. It’s impossible not to appreciate Buarque’s craftsmanship and imagination but equally, it's impossible to ignore his vanity. He treats his readers as Kosta treats his women and colleagues: with an air of intellectual superiority. How much you are wowed by his resolution will probably influence how much of this you're willing to forgive.
Erzsébet krt. 39 [map]
Pest Centre, VII, Király utca (T4/6), 3 min
In comparison to say, the British Film Institute's plush cinemas on London's South Bank, the Örökmozgó Filmmúzeum feels like something of a tin-pot operation.
Housed in what was once the 'Matra Mese és Ifjúsági Mozi' (which roughly translated means a 'children's picture house' specialising in 'fables'), the premises were taken over by the Hungarian National Film Archive in 1991. With its small café, narrow auditorium, and a couple of members of staff who seem to sell tickets, coffees and man the projection booth, it's clear from the outset that Örökmozgó isn't necessarily going to be a polished cinema-going experience.
At times, it's extremely ropey. In the past couple of years, I’ve seen Dustin Hoffman get sliced in half as he crossed the street during a showing of Midnight Cowboy. Only four minutes later, when the print was repositioned, were Dustin’s upper body and legs happily reunited. On another occasion, a copy of Buster Keaton's The General had four false starts before it was finally able to leave the platform. Perhaps most disappointingly of all, I turned up to a screening of Labyrinth to find that, contrary to what was advertised, the entire cast - trolls, goblins, David Bowie - would be speaking in French.
And yet, in spite of the damaged prints and occasionally misleading advertising, it’s really rather easy to ignore Örökmozgó’s flaws. Because of its connection to the archive, it has by far the most eclectic programming in the city. A single day might throw up a Claude Chabrol thriller, followed by a series of early shorts from D.W. Griffith, topped off with the film adaptation of Catch-22. And as disorganised as all that sounds, films are usually shown as part of week or month long seasons, such as 'America at War', or John Huston at 100.
As far as I'm concerned, it's the best cinema in Budapest. It isn't often you get to see films as diverse as Last Year at Marienbad, Apocalypse Now and Touch of Evil on the big screen. A monthly schedule is available here, films generally start at 4.30, 6.30 and 8.30 and tickets are inexpensive. Bring your own popcorn.
orokkmozgo film museum rock moz go orukmozgo arthouse cinema, repertory, art cinema
Get off the tram at Kiraly, and walk towards Blaha on the left hand side of the krt. Örökmozgó is on the corner of Dob utca.
Andy T.
Welcome to our occasional round-up of Hungarian music videos, freshly picked, prepared and delivered directly into your lap (top). For our initial selection, we've opted for a gypsy/balkan theme. So, to get the ball rolling...
1) Parno Graszt - Este Jrok
This excellent band plays around once a month in the city, typically in venues such as West Balkan and Gödör. They're originally from the town of Paszab, a place which their myspace page describes as being in one of the most 'underdeveloped' and 'culturally authentic' regions in the country. The highway code certainly doesn't look too important in Paszab - apparently it's perfectly acceptable for the twenty-strong group to stand around, blocking roads, bridges and other major thoroughfares. In fact, the whole town seems content to join in the madness.
2) Cigánycsárdás (Gypsy-csárdás)
The next video caused me to re-think my ideas about dancing properly to gypsy music. Before I saw this it all looked rather difficult, but obviously, I couldn't have been more wrong. What you really have to do is just watch the dancers, remember the steps, and copy them...
3) Besh O droM - Amikor én még kissrác voltam
Our final clip comes from stalwarts of the Budapest music scene Besh O droM, a band known for their breathless fusion of techniques and musical styles. The song is a cover version of a runner-up from a 1968 music contest, and this fantastic video shows that contest, slickly re-edited. You can hardly see what's new and what isn't.
parno grast, gypsy music, besh o drum, bosh a drom, folk music, hungarian music
Masterpieces of the Swiss Rupf Collection - Picasso, Klee, Kandinsky
0 comments Posted by hub culture at 21:08
Until 27th January, 2008
Museum of Fine Arts, Hősök tere [map]
Pest, XIV, Hősök tere (M1), 1 min
If you haven't noticed that The Museum of Fine Arts is playing host to a Picasso, Klee and Kandinsky exhibition, you probably don't use the metro too much. Being listed first, the Picasso brand-name clearly has the most pulling power, although that's Klee's "Legend of the Nile" on the poster. What kind of split will the exhibition have, I wonder?
2200HUF seems quite pricey to me but 10% off with a little card from the tourist office is briefly enough to take the sting out of it. I then ponder the wisdom of buying a ticket at all when I find that there's no one on the door.
Inside the gallery, it's quickly clear that this particular sample of Hermann Rupf's collection isn't going to be a case of a couple of paintings and a few sketches. The exhibition is more-or-less chronological, split into two around 1930. This exposes what a tight-knit bunch the early cubists were: string instrument, newspaper, wine bottle, grapes... were Picasso, Braque and Gris all trapped in the same room? Perhaps things will change in the next gallery...hang on, what's this? "Guitar, Bottle and Fruit Dish" (1921).
Some quirky sculptures by Laurens liven it up a bit and Derain's landscapes are an oasis in a sea of still lifes. Picasso does finally come through with the squawking, light-hearted "Young Girl" (1929), which amuses me greatly.
The second half, for me, was far more exciting, thanks in no small part to Klee, who's a lot more varied than I gave him credit for. I'm not sure whether my memory beat my eyes to the notion that Klee has a certain penchant for swastikas - but it seemed that as soon as I thought it, I noticed them. This led to a little (more) confusion as to how to interpret the paintings. In fact, he'd been using them well in advance of Hitler, so it appears that continuing the trend throughout the thirties was an act of defiance, from the seemingly safe distance of Paris.
Kandinsky is also well-represented, with a series of colourful balancing acts and miniature universes from the 20s through to the 40s. It's the Kandinsky I know and love and seeing them in the flesh, makes me realise how few colours there are in the digital world. I'm also happy to see that Kandinsky did occasionally depart from this style, with the juxtaposition of Quiet Tension (1935), a personal highlight. In contrast, Picassos seem a bit thin on the ground, the bulk of his stuff being in the first half. Only now do I feel that some cobbling together is going on: neighbouring paintings have an identical theme and there's a distinct missing room where the freaky portraits should be.
So, if Picasso is supposed to be the main act, he's somewhat upstaged by Klee and Kandinsky. Nevertheless, if you're not too partisan or bothered about seeing the famous ones, there's a lot of quality on show.
The Museum of Fine Arts is the huge neo-classical building on the left side of Hősök tere, as you approach from Andrássy út.
Andy Sz.
With such hefty subject matter, you might expect a heavy slog but I found myself book-in-hand as I waited for the metro, as I got off a tram, as I rode a turbulent bus to Budaörs. Reading it in Budapest was like watching a play from the centre of the stage. After ten days, I put it down, having been educated, touched and thoroughly amused.
Gyuri, son of a bourgeois family, confined by the Soviets’ capsized social order, does all that he can to avoid joining the army: namely, being good enough at basketball to be employable. Tales of the naked travels of the transport workers’ team fit in well with my own experience of Hungarian humour.
Above all, Fischer finds plenty of time to talk about life. Growing up is still growing up, even if it means more crouching in cellars and police cells. Parents are still parents, even if they’ve lost the will to participate in society. On a personal level, problems are much the same, occupation or no occupation: “1950 was a good year, I almost slept with four women.”
Under The Frog is irrepressibly funny. This doesn’t undermine the significance or the devastation of the events that took place. Moreover, it puts them into the proper perspective. Too often, vast swathes of history are swallowed up in a cloud of misery, which distances us from the people and their lives. Here, the triumphs and tragedies are real, human and all the more poignant.
