Simon Stephens' Pornography

It is a very difficult task to write about something that is culturally and emotionally not exactly relevant to me. There is a great deal of national feeling and a sense of national solidarity in the play as the actual events and consequences of winning the right to hold the 2012 Olympic Games and more importantly, those of the July 7 bombings unfold. Lucky for me, these are not the issues Stephens focuses on.

It is the people that we should listen to. And accordingly, the monologues are the most powerful parts of the whole play, especially those of the Terrorist and the Student. It is not by coincidence that they both represent the angry, aggressive youth culture which is dissatisfied with the current power and which tends towards violent self-expression and a simplified worldview. The Student is neurotic and slightly racist and the spectator might even make the causal connection between this and the final deeds of the Terrorist. He is angry too and desperate to show something to the world. What this “something” may be, even he himself does not know. The merits of these two actors are undeniable but we should not forget about the playwright either. By making the soliloquies painfully personal and often baffling, he leaves space for the audience to make up its own mind about these issues.

As a non-professional, I can say that the actors’ and actresses’ performances were quite satisfying on the whole, the Student and the Terrorist being the most remarkable. However, I was not entirely satisfied with the setting. I find the idea of the huge glass surfaces captivating and haunting at the same time, especially when the reflections doubled or even tripled the image of the characters as if they had split personalities. The music was disturbing and loud which served the (supposed) purpose of Stephens well. On the other hand, I would not be so sure about the success of the projections. They were often very annoying and most of the time seemed to be out of context and rather arbitrary.

All in all, I think it is a good play, the actors are obviously devoted and talented and they were able to make the characters seem real but something went wrong with the production. It might be that the audience comprised mostly of Hungarians, thus they could barely be culturally drawn to this play or it might be that the director had the same problem which he tried to overcome by using fancy, but unfortunately very distracting stage devices. They distract us so much that the whole point of the play is endangered and that is a serous mistake.

As good as it gets

I chose to write about a case of collaboration that has happened recently (namely this weekend) so that I can give a detailed description of it. In my dormitory, we organize the so-called Freshmen’s Weekend (GóJa Hétvége) around the end of October (or in this case the beginning of November). Three days, during which first-year students have to complete (non-humiliating!) tasks such as reciting impossible poems, taking part in a whole-day steeplechase and performing a short play they had been preparing for roughly a month. On top of it all, we have a regular ball on Saturday night with suits and beautiful long gowns.

At 16:30 Friday, the older students gather together to divide tasks and responsibilities among each other. This goes wonderfully because everyone arrives full of ideas and enthusiasm and we already have the skeleton of the whole arrangement. It turns out there would be seven stations, each with a group of three or four “senior” students on different locations (either inside the dormitory’s building or outside) waiting for the freshmen to make them do numerous funny tasks. It is nothing like the brutal, humiliating “rites of passages” of fraternities that you can read about in newspapers. It is all about having fun and making fun of yourself (that includes older students as well who set an example for freshmen) in a completely harmless way.

As everyone was bursting with ideas, there was no fear that any of the stations would be boring. I chose to be a member of the second group which was positioned in the basement pub of the dormitory. We created three tasks to be completed by the freshmen: one of them included the gadget built from Lego that you can see on the picture and the other one featured this classic song. In fact, it is so cheesy that it has become some kind of a national anthem among us. Also, check out the choreography.

Tunak Tunak Tun

The freshmen were also divided into groups of four and five and during the tasks, they had to work together in order to succeed. This serves as a means of getting to know each other and later on forming friendships and being able to help each other. As a side note, it usually works. J The steeplechase usually ends around 1 or 2 am. on the Citadella which is the last station.

I chose to describe this event as an excellent example of collaboration because this is the second time that I take part in it as a senior student (before that I was one of the GóJa-s) and it was a fascinating experience both times. The best part in it is that we manage to work together so well forgetting that otherwise we naturally have our petty quarrels.

1989 – A sense of change

When you approach the mother of a nearly 21-year-old girl to tell you about her feelings about 1989, first you will have to go through the usual baby photos and baby stories that you have already seen and heard a hundred times (including the one about my setting fire to a dish towel). My mum claims that the biggest event for her in 1989 was my birth and all other things were dwarfed by it.

Nonetheless, I managed to get some valuable information from her. What surprised me the most was that she claimed not to have been affected too closely by all that turmoil. She grew up far from the centre of events (in a relatively small town) in a lower middle class family. This was the social layer most supported by the system, so she had many opportunities both as a child and later as an adult. All she knew was that she could go to free camps every summer, though she never understood the words of the oaths they had to take as a young scout. I think what happened to most youngsters was that they slowly gained consciousness of the silent trespassing of individual rights the system was committing.

Interestingly enough, my mother said she did not notice the whole disturbance until she heard people talk about 1956 no longer as a counter-revolution but as a revolution. This was shortly before smaller riots broke out (which she obviously missed due to living in the country). She was not among the heated young people who stormed on the streets of Budapest carrying banners and shouting “Long live the revolution”. In a sense, Hungary’s whole history was changed in the course of weeks; everything you could read in history books became political lies. I think this is what most common people – those who were not terribly wronged by the system – realised, not that ungraspable notion of “freedom”.

The change of regime was undoubtedly distant for many people but those who fought for the precious individual freedom definitely felt they achieved something historical. The question is whether we, they actual beneficiaries of this change will ever learn to appreciate it with its whole weight.

Fogasház

Introducing…FOGASHÁZ


Fogasház is a newly established fabulous place of fun and culture. More precisely, it is a pub in a building waiting to be demolished. In Hungary, we have a special term for these places which directly translates to English as ‘ruin pub’. Very clumsy wording, I acknowledge, but it will soon be justified why it is very appropriate too.

Fogasház is currently in ruins, although it is not an eyesore at all. The place either survives a few months before the demolition is completed or it disappears after a couple of weeks. Of course, we have very much reason to opt for the first solution. What makes this place so enhancing and even magical (apart from the astonishing lighting) is the enthusiasm, uniqueness and enormous potential that it offers to the visitor.

The pub is run by KOHÓ, an association of dedicated youngsters who dream of establishing a both culturally and socially multifarious place. They have so many plans and ideas that could turn this place into one of the hottest, most popular pubs in Central Europe. No exaggeration there. During our little tour in the building, we saw The Room with Yellow Walls where erotic strip comics with a certain Sin City quality were exhibited; The Room with Pink Walls where a lecture about New York’s population was taking place; The Room with Blue Walls where we could observe an exhibition of pencil drawings and poems.

On the upper floors, we encountered a famed Swedish painter (who is about to have an exhibition in New York) working on his latest masterpiece. There is also a girl living in one of the flats on the first floor who paints glass and organizes practical courses where other people can get a glimpse at this form of art. Without doubt, one of the most exciting and unmatchable parts of the building is the roof. It is an excellent ‘hiding place’ and provides a complete view of the street lying under it. However, the most curious and mystical place on the roof is the ‘Alice in Wonderland-door’, which leads to the neighbours. Or does it?

All in all, this place is absolutely worth visiting not merely for entertainment and drinking purposes but also to learn something from the spirit of these young people. No matter, how dirty and ruined this place may be, the atmosphere is certainly one of a kind. And this is because we as simple, everyday visitors also catch this feeling of ‘belonging to what we established out of nothing’ that hangs around the whole place.