Programme

They live among us. We heard about their stories, we watched it over the news, we heard the neighborhood gossip. They are the ones sitting on the farthest bench in the park, the ones always apologizing, the ones never really looking in other people's eye, the ones with just too much makeup, and the ones we turn away from, because the look in their eyes just makes us uncomfortable. We see them but do we really know them? Have we ever asked them, about the choices they made, about the path they walked, about the battles they fought, about the lingering sadness around them, about the cuts and bruises? About their strength to keep going, to keep breathing, to keep longing for a better life, for a calm destination, for 12A Happiness Street.Let this text be their voices. The unspoken, uncomfortable truth of these women. The performance was produced within the framework of the European project “FemminiCity”, funded by the CERV programme.

They live among us. We heard about their stories, we watched it over the news, we heard the neighborhood gossip. They are the ones sitting on the farthest bench in the park, the ones always apologizing, the ones never really looking in other people's eye, the ones with just too much makeup, and the ones we turn away from, because the look in their eyes just makes us uncomfortable. We see them but do we really know them? Have we ever asked them, about the choices they made, about the path they walked, about the battles they fought, about the lingering sadness around them, about the cuts and bruises? About their strength to keep going, to keep breathing, to keep longing for a better life, for a calm destination, for 12A Happiness Street.Let this text be their voices. The unspoken, uncomfortable truth of these women. The performance was produced within the framework of the European project “FemminiCity”, funded by the CERV programme.

Macbeth is the tragedy of disorder, a plunge into the depths of the human soul, but it is also the tragedy of power—a violent, anarchic power. The protagonist’s ascent to the throne is extremely rapid, as is his downfall. We thus witness the annihilation of a system of values, from whose ashes a new world will ultimately emerge. The staging is choral: the performers are always on stage, moving as a single body from which scenes and characters emerge. All die, yet none remain on the ground. Each is reabsorbed into the chorus in a continuous cycle, symbolizing power which, like life, renews itself again and again. The production of Macbeth is possible thanks to support from the Italian Cultural institute in Bucharest.12+EN: Warning: this performance contains smoke effects. 

Under the direction of Attila Balázs, Mónika Tar skillfully evokes one of the most distinctive and culturally significant genres in Hungarian literature with great flair and naturalness.

The Tót family lives somewhere in a Banat village. Their only son is on the front during the Second World War. At the boy’s suggestion, a major suffering from nervous breakdown arrives at the family home on leave. The parents and the boy’s sister receive the officer as if their son’s fate depended solely on their hospitality: they walk on tiptoe, adjusting to his every demand, even though it becomes uncertain whether the son and the major are still fighting on the same side of the front. At first, submission is guided by hope; later, faced with madness, obedience becomes the only remaining response. How long can vulnerability be endured when decisions are driven by love? When does fear take control, and how does this state come to be perceived as normal?In Horváth Hunor’s staging, The Tót Family becomes a memento marked by black humor: the disintegration of the world is not a single spectacular moment, but rather a small crack in the plaster that spreads slowly and insidiously.

The Tót family lives somewhere in a Banat village. Their only son is on the front during the Second World War. At the boy’s suggestion, a major suffering from nervous breakdown arrives at the family home on leave. The parents and the boy’s sister receive the officer as if their son’s fate depended solely on their hospitality: they walk on tiptoe, adjusting to his every demand, even though it becomes uncertain whether the son and the major are still fighting on the same side of the front. At first, submission is guided by hope; later, faced with madness, obedience becomes the only remaining response. How long can vulnerability be endured when decisions are driven by love? When does fear take control, and how does this state come to be perceived as normal?In Horváth Hunor’s staging, The Tót Family becomes a memento marked by black humor: the disintegration of the world is not a single spectacular moment, but rather a small crack in the plaster that spreads slowly and insidiously.

Who wouldn’t want to be rich, to earn lots of money with little effort, to wear beautiful clothes, and live in a bigger house? That’s all Jankó ever wanted, so he grabbed his walking stick and set off into the world. And because this was a world of fairy tales, he gained much more than he expected. In addition to riches, he also found the love of a real fairy. Is this the end? Is this the conclusion of the story? No, it is not over—it’s just the beginning. What comes easily goes quickly—and the fairy leaves. Only now does Jankó realize that all the wealth, beautiful clothes, and the big house are worthless without someone to share.So, he takes his walking stick and sets off once again. He no longer cares about treasures or richness, only if that beautiful fairy could be with him one more time. He would even fight the devil himself for her. (And he will.)

Who wouldn’t want to be rich, to earn lots of money with little effort, to wear beautiful clothes, and live in a bigger house? That’s all Jankó ever wanted, so he grabbed his walking stick and set off into the world. And because this was a world of fairy tales, he gained much more than he expected. In addition to riches, he also found the love of a real fairy. Is this the end? Is this the conclusion of the story? No, it is not over—it’s just the beginning. What comes easily goes quickly—and the fairy leaves. Only now does Jankó realize that all the wealth, beautiful clothes, and the big house are worthless without someone to share.So, he takes his walking stick and sets off once again. He no longer cares about treasures or richness, only if that beautiful fairy could be with him one more time. He would even fight the devil himself for her. (And he will.)

Once upon a time there was a small village in the heart of Africa. There lived a mother and her three sons. They were very poor. But they had something: mother's beautiful hair, ebony-black, long as to reach one end of the village and the other. Her hair saved them from all their mishaps: when they were hungry, they could use it to fish, when they were bored, they would use it to jump rope, when it rained, they would hide under it. But one day, the boys grew up and left home in order to make a living... Will mother's hair keep protecting them?

They live among us. We heard about their stories, we watched it over the news, we heard the neighborhood gossip. They are the ones sitting on the farthest bench in the park, the ones always apologizing, the ones never really looking in other people's eye, the ones with just too much makeup, and the ones we turn away from, because the look in their eyes just makes us uncomfortable. We see them but do we really know them? Have we ever asked them, about the choices they made, about the path they walked, about the battles they fought, about the lingering sadness around them, about the cuts and bruises? About their strength to keep going, to keep breathing, to keep longing for a better life, for a calm destination, for 12A Happiness Street.Let this text be their voices. The unspoken, uncomfortable truth of these women. The performance was produced within the framework of the European project “FemminiCity”, funded by the CERV programme.

Ordinary people are swept away by the vibrant chaos of festival lights. They are lost. Disappointed. Unsatisfied. And long for more than the tight limits each day allows. Caught in the whirlwind of loud music and overflowing crowd, they desperately try to convince themselves that they still have control over their own lives. Old loves fall apart, new illusions emerge. They all search for the same thing: a single breath of freedom, a moment of tenderness, a sincere touch, before being swallowed once again by the aimless crowd.

Ordinary people are swept away by the vibrant chaos of festival lights. They are lost. Disappointed. Unsatisfied. And long for more than the tight limits each day allows. Caught in the whirlwind of loud music and overflowing crowd, they desperately try to convince themselves that they still have control over their own lives. Old loves fall apart, new illusions emerge. They all search for the same thing: a single breath of freedom, a moment of tenderness, a sincere touch, before being swallowed once again by the aimless crowd.