| Thursday, 30th June 2011 | 20.15 / The Novi Sad Theatre, Grand Stage |

A Marginalist
A Marginalist cannot be placed into any of the literary forms, as this piece is an exception: it relies on non-verbal theatre, through which it leads us to the darkest corners of our souls; it is a public analysis, an attempt to reach both the artistic and autobiographical ‘truth’. A work that excites and touches. The ending is cathartic despite the fact that we arrive there through a grim voyage into the soul of a man whose childhood was ridden by great traumas and marked by an unbearable repentance, which later leads us into the mind frame of a constantly anxious, aggressive person, an addict, who is, nevertheless, driven by elementary desire for freedom and artistic consciousness.
Whether this is a monodrama or not is an intriguing question. The leading actor is accompanied on the stage by György Kozma who first appears as a choir singer and then as Szakonyi’s psychiatrist. He sets the show into motion with his singing, and then, through questions he gradually elicits from the actor the information about crucial moments of his life, from the clash between his parents, through his grandma who committed suicide, to the social phobia or constant challenges of a life of an emigrant. However, each horrible episode, each frustrating memory, leads to ultimate liberation: the man standing in front of us reveals his anxieties, only to eventually blow them away lightly as feathers.
The dialogue is presented on three levels creating a feeling of simultaneity. The two men speak behind the curtain and it is only their shadows that we can see most of the time. A parallel footage displays their statements. Moreover, almost naked Szakonyi shows himself from behind the curtain from time to time, poetically adopting, problematising and releasing the crucial moments and memories. We are reading him from his shadow, face or body language at our disposal, choosing which of these languages is closest to us. It is our choice if we want to rationalise and suppress or, quite on the contrary, to experience these feelings. What is this? A confession? A sublimation? An actor’s statement? A spiritual autopsy? A one man show? Perhaps the key to the play is this series of motions; Szakonyi, with his shoulders sagging, who jumps out from behind his cover and under the limelight erects himself, showing muscles where hanging stomach was; who wins the space over in huge leaps, transforming almost completely, becoming younger, implying the difference between the body on stage and a civilian body.
It is impossible to say if the piece is autobiographical or pseudo-autobiographical, but it is surely based on real traumas and emotions. A Marginalist also implies how illusory the truth of a life story is. (...) The power of A Marginalist lies in the fact that the audience is drawn into the story very quickly. And while it is a fine fabric made of an endless line of unique moments, it touches upon the familiar archetypal fears and pains. Györk Szakonyi is a ‘born marginalist’, which makes him become our close partner.
Anges Veronika Tot, Hospital Room No 6, Life and Literature, Year LIV, No. 31, 6th August 2010.
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The Györk Szakonyi Company
Györk Szakonyi, an actor and poet, has been a prominent member of the Josef Nagy Society for over 25 years. Besides this, he has performed as a soloist and in duos. More notable among his performances are: The Forty Thousand Metre Runner (duo G. Szakonyi – J. Nagy, the MU Theatre, 1987), Do You Like the Noise of Footsteps in the Fallen Leaves? (solo, CAC d’Orléans, 1995), The World Memory (The New Synagogue, Szeged, 1999), Correction (duo G. Szakonyi – Nina Umniakov, CAC d’Orléans, 2000). Recently, Györk Szakonyi has been appearing in the plays by Yveta Božik and Béla Pintér.