Novák Ferenc ‘Tata’ – Kossuth Prize-Winning Choreographer, Director, Ethnographer, Artist of the Nation Awardee (1931-2024)
He was the innovator of Hungarian stage dance, a master of dramatic theatre based on folk elements, an emblematic figure of the 20th century choreographic school. Like Béla Bartók in music, he continued to interpret the ancient cultural treasure in the theatre, that he himself had witnessed during his collections in Szék (Sic, Romania) and Romania and during his childhood years in Transylvania.
Childhood
He was born on 27 March 1931 in Nagyenyed (Aiud, Alba County, Transylvania, Romania). His father was then working as the governor of the prison in Nagyenyed (Aiud). His father was one of the Transylvanian generations, whose men joined the 'Great War' as soldiers of Hungary, but when they returned from captivity, they found themselves under Romanian rule in a new country. It was a tradition in the Novák family that the first-born son became a priest. This was meant to be the fate of Ferenc Novák's grandfather had he not rebelled: he chose to become a teacher and married an Armenian girl from Szamosújvár (Gherla, Romania). His other grandfather, from the Makkai branch of the family, was an impoverished nobleman who opened a tinsmith's workshop in Kolozsvár (Cluj-Napoca, Romania). He became successful and therefore wealthy with his aluminium sheet pots. His grandmother from Gherla brought Armenian flair into the family, but they were great patriots as Hungarian Armenians. Ferenc Novák has always been proud of his Armenian roots.
He was five years old when his father was transferred to Beszterce (Bistrița, Romania). His childhood was spent in middle-class prosperity, thanks to his prison governor father. Like his grandfather, he was also called Ferenc, a name passed from father to son. His mother, a Makkai girl, was a gentlewoman: her wardrobe was full of gala dresses for festive occasions, but she never behaved snobbishly; she loved her husband but found it hard to bear his difficult nature. Her father had no equals in eating, drinking, spending money, revelry, and hot temperedness. As a great hunter, he often took his young son and sometimes his eldest child, Laci, with him on his early morning hunts. Novák inherited his knowledge and love of nature from him. Just as his father taught him humanity when he saw how he treated the prisoners entrusted to his care.
Ferenc Novák was, by his own admission, an irrepressible child: he was outspoken, he could not tolerate injustice even at school. He retained this characteristic in later life. His uncontrollability turned into passion and diligence as an adult, and his outspokenness was renowned throughout his life, but he never drew the sword in defence of himself, but always for the community and the 'cause'.
He grew up in an extremely diverse environment, playing with his peers in three or four languages in the street, sometimes in Hungarian, sometimes in Romanian, sometimes in German, but he even knew many Yiddish words. "What a lot could have been collected in just that one city, that Saxon-Romanian-Hungarian-Yiddish-Romani city!", he later remarked. Even if he did not collect it, he stored it all as experience, and it was present in his humanity, openness and acceptance, as well as in the nuances of his work.
His school life was hectic: he completed three elementary years in a Romanian school, and when the Hungarians marched in, he was allowed to start secondary school with a differential exam. Later, he was supposed to go to the Piarists in Cluj-Napoca, but the war prevented this. "I went to the Cistercians in Székesfehérvár, then for a few days to the Faludi [grammar school] in Szombathely, and when we came home from Austria, I went to a grammar school in Zalaegerszeg for a while, and when we came to Pest, I could enrol at Vörösmarty [grammar school] with a differential exam."
Among sports, he liked ice skating and won a figure skating competition, but he preferred to play in a team. It was this quality that later made him such a great organiser and leader in the dance movement, and of course his inherent 'tendency to leadership'. "I really liked to organise, and since there was always a need for someone to make quick decisions, it was usually me, who did so, who made the quickest decision, so I became the leader."
Moving to Hungary
His family came to Hungary in the difficult years of the Second World War, under extraordinary circumstances and adventures fit for a novel. In the summer of 1944, her mother ran out of patience and told her husband that she was divorcing him, so they moved to the Makkai grandfather's house in Gherla. But the front was approaching, and they decided to flee to Székesfehérvár to stay with friends. His father took care of them, supported their cause, and they took refuge at the home of the Head of the District Court, a former hunting companion of his father. Amid the war, it was extremely difficult for them to reach Székesfehérvár. His father took care of their journey too, summoning one of his prisoners, János Majer, a notorious railway thief and a high-class swindler. He promised to release him if he took his family to Székesfehérvár. And he did so: by train, by car, by motorboat, whatever he could get. Even though he was free to go after their lucky arrival, he continued to help the family. From time to time, he knocked on the door and brought them flour, sugar, ham, petroleum in secret, and when their mother was taken ill with gallbladder disease, he brought a medical major to her who immediately acted on behalf of ‘Attorney’ Majer's client.
Székesfehérvár, however, became the scene of warfare, changing hands several times as the Germans tried to stop the front there. They had to flee. The adventure continued until they finally reached Budapest in 1945.
Ferenc Novák became a student at the Vörösmarty Grammar School in the autumn of 1945. The family lived in Kispest [then a suburb of Budapest], in great poverty. His father was slandered, he spent some time in prison, then the charges were dropped; his mother was ill, and he took on all kinds of jobs to support the family. After Kispest, they lived in a rented flat in Hajós Street and then on Győri Road [in Budapest]. While attending secondary school, he worked in the bronze-casting workshop of uncle Darázs to help support the family. The free spirit of the transitional era of 1944-1949 captivated him too, and he took part in the youth movements of the time, mostly, of course, in cultural programmes. "We were living in a multi-party system, and students like us got involved in everything. In class, we tried to decide the fate of the country among ourselves."
The world of work
After graduation, he applied to the University of Economics, attracted by his uncle's profession as a merchant, but despite his successful admission, he was dismissed, presumably because of his personnel records. After a brief stint as a trainee technician at the Chemical Machinery and Radiator Factory, where he organised cultural programmes. At the factory, there was a folk-dance group led by Zsóka Mártonné Benkő, who was the soloist of the amateur group Ruggyanta (lit. Rubber). At first Ferenc Novák just watched them, not even thinking of dancing. But when some heavy piece of iron fell on one of the boys’ feet while the group was preparing for Stalin's birthday celebrations, Novák, as cultural officer, felt obliged to save the day and stood in for him. However, he had a bad impression of the situation of folk dance in Hungary at that time. In 1949, he was present at the World Festival of Youth and Students as a French interpreter and watched the folk-dance shows. He was expecting to see what he remembered of Hungarian and Romanian folk entertainments and dances in Transylvania. He found this element in most of the presentations of the Bulgarian, Romanian and Yugoslavian ensembles, but "unfortunately, the Hungarian folk dance movement was then shackled by the proletarian culture”.
This is the beginning of the life story of the artist known to the public. Despite the success of the gig, he did not want to continue dancing, but by then Mrs Benkő, who was then in charge of organising the Építők Ensemble, "wouldn't let him go". At the Építők, he realised that university students like himself and social outcasts were dancing there. He joined in. "In the autumn of 1950, István Molnár, the great choreographer, taught us the Székely verbunk [Hungarian recruiting dance] in the Építők Ensemble. I said to him, ’Uncle Pista, this is not the way the Székely verbunk is.’ ‘How is it then? How do you know how it is?’ And I started to dance like the children of Csíkdánfalu (Dănești, Romania) and Csíkrákos (Racu, Romania) used to dance in the boarding school of the Hunyadi János Grammar School in Bistrița. Only we called it ‘fooling around’, because while we, urban middle-class children, were standing in the corridor, watching how these kids from Racu dance, we learned it from them. And we said, ‘Come on, let's fool around with the kids from Ciuc.’ And I showed Uncle Pista how to fool around, that's how it is. ‘What do you call it? What's this fooling around?’; I told him. The old man watched me dancing and said to Mrs Benkő: ‘Zsóka, enrol this boy!’ That's when I realized that this fooling around, this is culture, this has value."
He started dancing regularly, learned quickly, and on 4 April 1950 he was already performing with them, and even became the group's political officer. So, he stayed with the Építők, kept in touch with the union, and won the heated debates. He earned his living as a dispatcher for the Water Construction Company, and later worked for the Transport Construction Company, which was building the underground railway at the time. He also organised the cultural life there. He gave lectures on literature to young workers. The workers who worked in pressurised environment were making big money and they didn't have much patience to listen to him, so he would go to their regular pub on Verpeléti Road, where they would play cards and he would sit among them and tell them the story of a novel or two. He got a beer in return. He persuaded many of them to continue their studies, and he later made it a point to similarly encourage and support his dancers. During his friendship with Pina Bausch, he proudly told how the world-famous German choreographer was impressed by the Hungarian company's culture and knowledge.
The military
In 1951, his family was not spared from forced relocation. They were living in Farkasrét by then. The usual order arrived: in two days they would be leaving with a limited amount of luggage. He went to the factory's party secretary to complain. There was nothing he could do, but he suggested that if Novák joined the Party, his application could be ante dated. He was reluctant to lie, but with a sickly family at home, he filled out the application form. Then they waited, all packed, his father already musing about what it would be like living in a small village, but nothing happened for months, except that Ferenc Novák was called up as a soldier.
Before his enlistment, he applied to the Honvéd Ensemble, then led by Sándor László Bencsik. He was asked to do a test dance, but he had no idea of ballet movements. To help him, they suggested he danced freestyle. He presented a ‘pontozó’ [a traditional Hungarian men’s solo dance]. But they were not familiar with that. He was dismissed, but it was some satisfaction for him that László Seregi, the later world-famous ballet choreographer, went after him and asked him to teach him this dance.
He was assigned to Hévíz as a reconnaissance officer. He met four or five people there who were dancers like him. Géza Boross, Ernő Lődör, Imre Torda, József Muri: compared to them he was a beginner. The political officer insisted that there should be a show. The orchestra was also preparing. As was customary, in such cases the soldier was given an advantage. There was no cannon to clean, no training to attend. They started to work, but within minutes there were conflicts, one wanted a Rábai piece, the other a Molnár piece. They were in danger of losing their privilages, fearing they would be sent back to the barracks.
The group left the matter to him, who for the sake of peace, discarded both parties' favourites and choreographed a verbunkos himself, according to his own ideas. He was criticised and became irritable, a lifelong trait of his, but said he would not open a debate, they should do as he said. The stern choreographer was born then, whose reputation as an ensemble builder reached every dancer from Amsterdam to Transylvania and Russia.
In 1952, they were posted to Marcali and he recruited some girls from the village with the help of the local cultural centre’s manager, held five or six rehearsals a week and after a few months, in the spring of 1953, they won the army competition. Károly Falvay, who just then took over the leadership of the amateur Építők-Vadrózsák ensemble from Mrs Márton Benkő, the outgoing leader, was a fellow competitor. Falvay invited Ferenc Novák, who was discharged from the army, to take over the feeder club training. At the time, Honvéd was already a professional ensemble, with Iván Szabó in charge while Miklós Rábai oversaw the Hungarian State Folk Ensemble. He was also invited to join the SZOT Ensemble, which was founded at the turn of 1951 under the direction of István Molnár, but he did not want to become a professional dancer even then. However, he enthusiastically threw himself into the education of young people. Falvay represented a modern approach to dance, but their pedagogical methods differed, and they had their differences.
The Bihar Ensemble
He was lucky to have met his former comrade-in-arms, Géza Boross, who was active in the Helyiipari és Városgazdálkodási Dolgozók Szakszervezet [Worker’s Union of Local Industry and City Management], and suggested that they should set up an ensemble. This became the HVDSZ Central Ensemble, formed in 1954. This is how Ferenc Novák's life's masterpiece was born: the Bihari Ensemble.
The Bihari was a central formation, bringing together various ensembles belonging to the Városgazdálkodás (City Management). There were people from the chimney sweepers, the spa management, the janitors. And from the deputy janitors, whose ensemble was named after János Bihari [1764-1827], the influential Hungarian Romani composer and violinist. "We settled on this group, but they fled when we started gymnastics and the Molnár technique..." They were aware of the importance of junior training, so they organised a school for young people. When the SZOT Ensemble ceased to exist in 1955, Sándor Timár came over and taught them a suite from Bag. Bálint Sárosi, later to become a folk music researcher and a scholar of folk instruments, joined their orchestra while still in college. They grew with talented people of good spirit.
After 1956, they formed a self-education circle led by István Éri and Ernő Pesovár, where they gave lectures on literature, art and music to young people, and sought out like-minded people to join them. "There was a fantastic intellectual buzz. We had debates and discussions that went on into the night. The boss was István Éri, who sometimes 'ordered' everyone to read and report on professional or philosophical writings not yet published at the time, according to their language skills. Contemporary writers, filmmakers and theatre people were welcome guests at these meetings. Meanwhile, all of us in the room were engaged in feverish creative work. In 1957-58-59, an ensemble working in such a collaborative way was a special and unique phenomenon in folk dance."
The first works at the Bihari Ensemble
Ferenc Novák's first choreography at Bihari, Verbunkfantázia Bihari János emlékére (lit. Verbunkfantasy in Memory of János Bihari), caused a scandal. "... It was trampled in mud. It has no special regional characteristic, and anyway…” The next one was choreographed for Behár's Csuvaslakodalmas (lit. Chuvash Wedding Dance). He wondered: "...can one stay clean if everyone around him behaves like a boor? I want to show this in the context of a wedding, in the contrast of a young couple in search of ideals in life and in each other, amid the orgy of the wedding guests, which goes to the point of ordeal. The poem Mennyegző (lit. The Wedding) by László Nagy [Hungarian poet 1925-1978] was published while I was working on the choreography. I feel that the theme and ideology of the choreography is almost identical with the poem. After that, as the poem is hugely influential, I could not avoid using the same title as the poem." This was followed by an even bigger storm, with some people suggesting that he had flouted the traditional Hungarian wedding ceremony. "I was not even granted the compulsory licence to perform. The reasoning was that my ideas about folk dancing were confused and I was not fit to lead a large ensemble. A few years later, however, these works were cited as examples."
Anna Poór, head of the dance department, sent him to a residential course, which he found difficult to tolerate. They were practicing Gyula Varga's Mikepércsi Csárdás (lit. Csárdás from Mikepércs), or the Ajaki leánytánc (lit. Girls' Dance from Ajak), which he was obliged to practice. And singing. When Varga saw that he did not sing, he made a loud lecture about how one should not be a dance group leader who did not know how dancing and singing were connected. Tata understood that he was being targeted and invited Varga to his next rehearsal. Because he kept on working on pieces. He showed him the Somonyi szvit (lit. Somogy Suite), including a karikázó [women’s circle dance], a kanásztánc [swineherd’s stick dance], and a csárdás [traditional Hungarian dace]. Girls were singing in two parts. This was a rarity in those days. Varga was ashamed, he said he had been misled.
The first successes
In the spring of 1956, he created the dance Kanász és a Korpások (lit. Swineherd and Bran), which was performed on the Folk Dancers' Demonstration Stage, but even there he was criticised for not having a licence. During the interval, Károly Szigeti complained to Miklós Rábai about this injustice. Rábai refused to believe it and took immediate action, but Novák did not immediately accept the licence, he had to wait a little longer. This small dance piece was praised by the critiques: "The composition was a testimony to true artistic taste, fastidiousness and patience. The number, which lasted barely five minutes, was justly the biggest success of the evening and clearly demonstrated that even such a simple dance, with simple means but with the necessary taste and sophistication, can give the audience a lasting experience."
His performances have always been concerned with the complexity of theatre. "Those of my generation, such as Károly Szigeti, Sándor Tímár, Antal Kricskovics, Katalin Györgyfalvay, Antal Simon, István Orsovszky, Ernő Pesovár, who a long time felt that they were of the same mind as me, and who are known as the second generation of choreographers, were all committed to the concept that folk dance is also suitable for creating a theatrical language. Most of them started with dramatic works, and they are primarily proud of them. Theatre was the love of our generation and still is for many of us. And we wanted to make theatre with folk dance.", he said in an interview in the 1980s.
Collection in Szék (Sic, Romania) and graduation
In 1958, he decided to acquire theories along with practical experience: he began studying literature and ethnography as an ‘individual correspondence’ student. Gyula Ortutay and Tekla Dömötör examined him in conversation. For the fifth year, he was sent to the Folklore Institute in Bucharest for a museum internship. But there it soon became clear that he was much more interested in Romanian theatre than in scientific research, so after eight weeks he came home and became a librarian at the Kézműipari Vállalat [Craft Industry Company]. He found it hard to cope with the tedious work, so after eighteen months he moved on, accompanied by a letter of denunciation against himself.
He wrote his thesis entitled Szék táncai és táncélete a 20. század első felében (lit. The Dances and Dance Life of Szék in the First Half of the 20th Century) about the experiences and results of his collection work on ethnography and cultural history, which was outstanding in European terms. Between 1959 and 1964 he recorded about 300 metres of film of Sic dances, made sound recordings of almost 100 instrumental and vocal melodies, but also recorded original ballroom music from the dance hall of Felszeg [upper part of a settlement] and the dance of the little ones. In the autumn of 1958, he visited Sic for the first time - following the earlier collections of László Lajtha [composer, 1892-1963] and in Cluj-Napoca, he arranged with the girls from Sic to accompany them. At that time, there was no bus service, they had to walk up via Bonchida (Bonțida, Romania) on a shabby, potholed road. "I was fortunate to have met the people of Sic, because I found there a state of affairs representinig the 18th century, both socially and culturally," he later recalled.
This settlement on the border of the Câmpia Transilvaniei has preserved its Hungarian identity through the centuries and the years following the Trianon Treaty [1920]. Ferenc Novák was passionate about visiting the countryside, collecting and recording the motifs and incorporating them into his choreographies. Even then, he was convinced that professionals should not imitate the original folk-dance, but should transform it into art, knowing its mother tongue perfectly. This was always in the focus of his creative work. He was keen on preserving the customs of the village and the life of its inhabitants for the future.
By then, he has already ‘found’ photographer Péter Korniss [1937- ] for the Bihari Ensemble, with whom they became inseparable, and everything that happened in the Táncház (dance hall) movement was largely due to the enthusiastic and professional work of the two. Korniss later recalled the beginning: "He didn't know me, but he saw my photos of the Ballet Pécs in Muzsika and thought they were good. He went to Fényszöv [The Photographers’ Cooperative] and asked about me. He was told that I was doing my military service and would be back in three months. When they realised that he was looking for a photographer for the Bihari, and they said that Korniss was an assistant, and offered him a real photographer. But he said, ‘Thank you very much, but I'll wait for him.’ A life is defined by such things."
In the meantime, Tata led the Bihar Ensemble, where he met his future wife, Jolán Foltin, who had joined them as a dancer from the Kőbánya ensemble in 1962. They had two children: Eszter Novák, a renowned director and artistic director of the Szigligeti Theatre in Nagyvárad (Oradea, Romania), and Péter Novák, actor, singer, director and composer. Jolán Foltin became a great choreographer, her work was recognised with the Erkel and Kossuth Prizes, among others, and she was awarded Artist of the Nation. She died in 2019. They divorced after 18 years of marriage, but during their marriage they both drew much inspiration from each other's artistic talents, and their professional friendship and family alliance remained close for the rest of their lives.
Successes, awards
Although a significant part of the profession knew and acknowledged the Bihari's work and Ferenc Novák's dramatic performances, which based on original sources, the serious breakthrough came in 1965 with the performance Várj rám! (lit. Wait for Me!), which was unanimously described by the critics of the time as "a milestone in the development of Hungarian folk dance". The idea had been born a year earlier, when the Bihari had been invited by the Jeunesses Musicales to play for five weeks at a music festival in Brussels. Great success and international critical acclaim confirmed that the ensemble was on the right track. It was then that he first outlined his artistic programme for the coming years, the first performance of which was a production inspired by the Simonov poem. "I first conceived the dance based on the Ghimeș folk song Rózsám, a nagy erdőn átmész… (lit. My Rose, You Walk Through the Great Forest...), which expresses the trials of a man who is forced to leave his partner (war, work, persecution) and the formidable power of faithful waiting, the attraction of home and country. This work was a touchstone, because I felt that if I could say all this in the language of folklore and at the same time make it universal, I could say a lot more", he said after the successful reception, which convinced not only the theatre and dance audiences but also millions of TV viewers, thanks to Ki mit tud? [a talent scout program of the Hungarian Television 1962-1995], of the "emerging power of modern folk-dance artform". "One of the most original and talented creations of recent years in this beautiful field of art," wrote Népszava.
The Honvéd Ensemble
At that time, his mission was already clear: "Artists who have acquired a European education have a duty to speak in their mother tongue and not to feel that this is provincialism. Just as the educated Hungarian public now understands and demands Bartók, but also the Spanish Lorca, so they are beginning to understand films like Szegénylegények (The Round-Up, 1966 film by Miklós Jancsó) and, we hope, the dance works are entering our artistic life with similarly high standards."
The Bihari was a great success at the Dijon Festival in 1965, and when they returned home, Ferenc Novák received a telegram from the Ministry of Defence, asking him for a meeting, because they were looking for a dance director for their ensemble. He contemplated for months before he decided to go for it, but he did not break with the Bihari. This later turned out to be a good decision, because he was able to make his dreams come true with them. He had no previous experience with Honvéd, not even an occasional one. It soon became clear that they did not need a choreographer in the first place, but they needed his ability to create order. This discouraged him, but he stayed on for years. He also didn't like the fact that they kept pushing the military themes. He took over the major numbers from Bihari, but the artistic director, Kamilló Lendvay, steered the performances towards revues, and there were often clashes between them. "There were no problems with the professional work. (...) For me, it was a schizophrenic situation: I was going my own way outside of this environment with great success, while the management of the Honvéd Ensemble was banning internationally awarded works from its programme..."
Later, the disputes increased, György Görgey became the artistic director, and the Ministry repeatedly rejected the planned scripts of the performances. For a few more years, his love of the dance ensemble and the possibility of some important performances, such as the idea of a production with Károly Szigeti and Katalin Györgyfalvay, which later became legendary, kept him there. "The Tíz magyar néptánc (lit. Ten Hungarian Folk Dances) was not an old-fashioned folklore show that smelled of dung. The beautifully composed and perfectly executed pieces came together in a spectacular stage production. Unfortunately, the Ten Hungarian Folk Dances was without continuation, the leaders of the ensemble scrapped Tata Novák's plans" - said István Gantner, a former Honvéd dancer. The performance received a strong professional response, with critics marvelling at the "expressive, serious scale of the dances." "This kind of stage folklore, if we look for its direction and character, reminds us of Stravinsky's Sacre and Bartók's Allegro Barbaro, the poetry of Lorca and László Nagy, and, inevitably, the dance art of Antonio Gades.”
The Táncház (dance house) movement
On 6 May 1972, the first dance party was held in the Book Club on Liszt Ferenc Square in Budapest, in a closed circle of the participating dance companies: the Bihari János Dance Company of the HVDSZ, the Central Artists' Company of Vasas, the Bartók Béla Ensemble of the VDSZ and the Vadrózsa Dance Company of the Építők. Many articles were written about the extraordinary popularity of the dance houses, which later became open to the public, and about their community-building and community-retaining power. "The Táncház (dance house) is an opportunity for socialising, community education, the dissemination of professional knowledge and, of course, for general information and noble entertainment. I think that the evening you attended is a pretty good example of how it was achieved. We tried to appeal to the senses and emotions at the same time, to make them feel the essence of Sic folklore", said Lajos Lelkes, the then secretary of Bihari, in response to a journalist's question on the first occasion. Even though in the early days they danced and sang only for their own pleasure, the movement quickly expanded thanks to Ferenc Sebő, Sándor Timár and the Bartók Ensemble, and in 1973 it found a home in the Fővárosi Művelődési Ház [Metropolitan Cultural Centre].
The International Dance Theatre Amsterdam
After almost ten years, in 1976 he left the Honvéd Ensemble and searched for a while until László Maróti from the National Council of Trade Unions decided that he should be the head of the Szeged festival and the specialist adviser for the factory bands. Szeged marked a major turning point in his life when he presented his choreography Májusjárás (lit. May March), to a poem by István Kormos [1923-1977], at the festival of International Association of Festival Cities, which was then being held in Hungary. The performance was seen by Ferdinand van Altena, director of the International Folkloristisch Danstheater in Amsterdam, and he wanted to meet him. This meeting brought him to the Netherlands. He was offered a permanent contract with the Amsterdam company, but he signed it only for one year. He had no intention of staying there, but this invitation gave him the freedom to 'go in and out' of Europe.
Their first show was born in 1977, it was a huge success, and the Dutch ministry provided a supplementary grant for the International Dance Theatre in Amsterdam. His work was highly acclaimed internationally, but his greatest success at the time was the freedom to live without financial worries. So much so, that when he was recalled to the Honvéd in 1982, where there was again a problem with artistic direction, he refused to accept it as a job and he refused to get paid for it, but agreed with Ferenc Kárpáti, later Minister of War, that he could realise his submitted designs as artistic director. Kárpáti had his objections, but he saw that it was an ambitious concept and he agreed.
He started to implement his plans, but the party leadership did not recommend his appointment because they considered him inconsistent, especially as they considered it impossible to implement the 20-25 programmes he planned. Eventually, Tata was right, the shows great successes.
The golden years of Honvéd and the legendary theatrical successes
Throughout his life, literary works have been an important inspiration for him, although he stated that he never looked for a literary work, but for a subject that interested him, and then somehow found it naturally in a lyrical or prose work. It was so with Passió (Passion), which accompanied him throughout his career. He first created a passion play for the Bihari Ensemble, in which he drew on the tradition of Csíksomlyó (Șumuleu, Romania) only in parts, it was rather inspired by a work of a Greek author. He felt that at that time anti-Semitism was very much on the rise in Hungary and in the region: in the Czech Republic, in Poland, and he found it intolerable. It was at that time that he came across the novel The Greek Passion / Christ Recrucified by Nikos Kazantzakis. The story is set in a Greek village in Anatolia and tells of a community preparing for the Easter Passion Play, which was due to take place in the following year, but in which a 'stranger' is cast as Jesus. They stir up tempers in the village until, at the end of his way to the cross, the angry mob crucifies the young shepherd. Novák worked on this story with the dancers and in 1981, he choreographed the powerful Csíksomlyói passió (lit. Passion of Csíksomlyó) for the National Theatre's chamber theatre, the Várszínház.
Imre Kerényi invited Novák and László Rossa, who was involved in the theatre production as musical director, but Tata would only accept the invitation if he was given time to work with the actors. The film The Name of the Rose by Jean-Jaques Annaud, based on the novel by Umberto Ecco, premiered at that time, and the director told how he spent a year in a monastery before the work began, studying their lives and daily routine. Tata wanted to do something similar. Of course, there was no time for a year of study, but he was given a few weeks with the team while they practised walking, eating, movements and folk songs. This was of course striking in the harmonious stage world of the mystery play, whose music and movement were inspired by equally impressive adjectives: "the world full of dignified movement (a masterly work by choreographer Ferenc Novák), which is not only an external ornament but part of the same perfection, fitting together of the individual 'acts'."
During these years he was invited to work in the theatre several times. Particularly memorable is the debut of Kőműves Kelemen (lit. Kelemen, the Stonemason) at the Pesti Theatre. Ferenc Novák had already choreographed a Kelemen, the Stonemason with five boys and a girl in Bihari. Levente Szörényi and László Marton saw it at a festival and were inspired by it when they asked him to choreograph the performance, because as it turned out, they had been arguing for six months about how to kill the female protagonist. It was this scene that struck a chord with them, and later with the audience. "There is an eerie beauty to this Danse Macabre. So much so that whole rows of seats in the theatre thunder unconsciously foot-tapping to the rhythm of the music in this mythical dance that breaks the curse and maintains the wall." The critics were unanimous in their enthusiasm for the production, which was born under a lucky star, but was undoubtedly defined by the movement and dance, into which the actors, including the leading role played by Géza Hegedűs D., threw themselves with great enthusiasm. "Ferenc Novák's eloquent choreography sets the tempo and tone, strongly suggesting intense community work, and naturally enhances the music by Szörényi, sovereignly created from folk elements, and the simple, plot-supporting, dramatically charged Bródy lyrics. Kelemen, the Stonemason is a unified and powerful stage work.”
Almost a year later, at the premiere of István, a király (lit. Stephen the King) at Királydomb [‘King’s hill’, a meeting point for royal armies in medieval Hungary], Ferenc Novák was already involved in the preparatory work. They met every week and sketched out the framework of the planned bold and large-scale performance in advance, so that by the time they went to Királydomb, the movement material was already complete in thought. And the dynamics of the production were created, as the reviews said, by the intense presence of half a thousand dancers. The whole performance, directed by Gábor Koltay, is a revelation, "...but the main attraction is now choreographer Ferenc Novák: with microphone in hand, he coordinates a huge crowd of about 400 folk dancers. The many young men and elegant women move simultaneously with impressive precision. They fill, almost embrace, the vast space, the air dusts under their dancing feet, and the lay observer can detect elements of rock and roll in the powerful movements of this ancient dance culture. The spatial vision of their superbly talented director and his superbly composed spectacular scenes make them the secret protagonists of this large-scale work." His ideas, such as dreaming up a Szekler script for Gyula Vikidál's (Koppány) song, were received naturally by the creative team and the audience. His belief has long been that "both choreographer and dancer must know folk dance as a mother tongue, because only then will they be able to conscientiously and objectively evoke and interpret it, or, more to the point, recreate it. We must be aware of ourselves, of our Hungarian identity. What makes us important and necessary for others is primarily what distinguishes us, although what connects us with others is also very important, and if we represent our culture (and indeed our own culture) consistently and convincingly in this spirit."
A series of other dramatic works followed: after Magyar Elektra (lit. Hungarian Electra), Antigone, József és testvérei (lit. Joseph and His Brothers), Kocsonya Mihály házassága (lit. The Marriage of Mihály Kocsonya) and A helység kalapácsa (The Hammer of the Village). The most outstanding of these was A szarvassá változott fiúk (lit. The Sons Who Became Deer), which was created in collaboration with the Győri Ballet (Ballet Győr) led by Iván Markó and performed in front of thousands of spectators at the Szeged Open Air Theatre. In this case too, he fell in love with Ferenc Juhász's poem A szarvasság változott fiúk kiáltozása a titkok kapujából (lit. The Cry of the Sons Who Became Deer from the Gate of Secrets) He thought it was a modern idea what would happen to the young people who return from the villages to the cities, and it was his idea that together they could give a vivid idea of what the village and then the city environment would be like. "Novák's dance plans encapsulate all his virtues. His loyalty and humility to the peasant dances of the past, to the customs of the dance halls. But he is not satisfied with merely copying them, because he is a theatre man to the core, who does not have to select a succession of dances, but has to choreograph theatre, a lively, live and dramaturgically elaborate performance."
In 1989 the situation changed, he got a contract and a salary at Honvéd and he was officially employed by them. With the regime change the band's programme remained unchanged, except for the omission of a few obligatory movement songs. The artistic productions were still valid. However, in 2000, after the Ministry of Defence gave up its funding and the company could only be saved at the cost of a serious political struggle, in which Ferenc Novák was at the forefront. In a letter sent to the then prime minister, he wrote: "If it can be said in an interview in this country that instead of the 50-year-old Honvéd Ensemble and the cultural values it represents, we would rather equip a battalion, then I do not want to live in this country.”
The Bihari school
In the meantime, the Bihari Ensemble was also producing a series of great dance dramas, the group was expanding, creating a school for young people, and bringing home awards from festivals at home and abroad. Bihari was truly his life. Now a classic, Forrószegiek (lit. People form Forrószeg) is a poignant ballad about love, also inspired by Sic. "In the late 1980s, as I'm a mess, I never organised the tapes, I was looking for a data broker, Pista 'Futurás'. I had to listen to the tapes, and in each of the three streets there were two or three old women who told a tragic story about the love between a boy from Felszeg and a girl from Forrószeg," he said in his inaugural lecture at the Hungarian Academy of Arts.
The story goes that the two young people fell in love, even though their rules forbade it. The girl's suitor was her brother's best friend. The brother threatened the girl several times and even beat her when he found out that she was in love with a boy from Felszeg. Then, together with her friends, they devised a murderous prank. They blooded a man's shirt and lied to the girl that they had murdered the boy. The girl believed him and hanged herself in grief. Tata Novák staged this story under the title People from Forrószeg. He immediately sensed that this was a true Romeo and Juliet story. He used 'natural dances', original dances, in the production, and the piece still has a poignant power even decades later, when it is revived. "Ferenc Novák's People of Forrószeg can be regarded as one of the emblematic pieces of independent Hungarian dance drama in every respect, as it presented the classical and universally valid ideas of Romeo and Juliet, one of the best-known love tragedies in world literature, which has seen countless theatrical and film versions, in a specifically Hungarian setting, in a unique way, using the tools of Hungarian folk dance. And in this approach, the piece can certainly be considered as epoch-making."
Ferenc Novák was an extraordinary community organiser, his dancers knew they could count on him, just as he trusted them. He took an active role in ‘getting things done’ for the dance community, he and Jolán Foltin were instrumental in the legislation on dancers' annuities, which has now been rewritten, and he played an active role in getting the National Dance Theatre its own building in Millenáris Park [an exhibition space, function venue, and park in the 2nd district of Budapest] after decades of adversity. He worked for the Association of Hungarian Dancers and was one of the founders of the Magyar Művészeti Akadémia (Hungarian Academy of Arts), but when he felt that dissent was not respected, he spoke out in protest; for him it was a matter of conscience. A few weeks before his death, he wrote an open letter to his fellow artists calling for solidarity with independent communities.
The János Bihari Dance Ensemble has introduced thousands of children and young people to dance over the past decade, and their enthusiastic community continues to spread the word about the power of Hungarian folk dance and dance theatre around the world and has become a pillar of the Hungarian dance world. Ferenc Novák served his profession for the rest of his life, and many of today's directors, choreographers and theatre professionals have ‘passed through his hands’, and as he admitted, this has had a formative influence on his thinking and later activities.
[2024]