Ildikó Piros was born in Kecskemét. Encouraged by her mother, she appeared on the stage of the Katona József Theatre, under the direction of Vilmos Radó, already as a child. Immediately after completing secondary school, she was admitted to the Academy of Theatre and Film Arts in 1966. That year, Zoltán Várkonyi launched a new acting class, selecting thirteen students from among 1,200 applicants. Her classmates included, among others, Erika Bodnár, Annamária Detre, Szilvia Sunyovszky, Péter Blaskó, András Kern, János Papp and István Verebes. Reflecting on how and why she applied to the acting programme, she explained in an early interview: “I am from Kecskemét. I brought with me the baggage of good humour from my childhood. At the time, my interests ranged widely: I played the piano, took drawing lessons, recited and performed in a literary theatre group, and even led a small beat band of which I was the ‘captain’. We often performed at the cultural centre in Kiskunhalas; in short, I tried my hand at everything. My mother had once wished to become an actress. She did not succeed. She urged me to apply. I was admitted, and that is how it all began.” [1]

As she later learned, her teachers had decided after the first round of auditions that she would be accepted. Independent of her successful application, she quickly became known to a wider public, as she had obtained a small role in the film Nem szoktam hazudni (lit. It is not my habit to lie), directed by György Kárpáti, around the same time. In 1968 she was cast in a leading role in A veréb is madár (lit. Even a sparrow is a bird), directed by György Hintsch, a film that brought her national recognition. In reality, she was still ‘only’ a student. She recalled this period in an interview given to Film Színház Muzsika: “During my time at the Academy, I was able to try myself in many different roles, to discover what I was capable of. I sensed that my class teacher, Zoltán Várkonyi [actor and film director, 1912-1979], had also taken notice of me, yet for three years he did not once pronounce my name. He always addressed me only as: ‘You, the tall blonde, go up on stage…’. However many times my name is written down, I would like to remain, in some small way, that ‘tall blonde’…” [2]

She achieved her first truly significant stage success while still a student, performing the role of Dása at the Madách Chamber Theatre in Rakéta (lit. The Rocket), a play by Aleksey Nikolayevich Tolstoy. Her interpretation was met with unanimous praise in the contemporary press. Barabás Tamás wrote: “And the true discovery of the evening – the very reason one ought above all to see the production – is Ildikó Piros, a final-year student at the Academy. Not a single false gesture, misplaced emphasis, minor fault or even the smallest inaccuracy stemming from inexperience could be detected – nor, indeed, was there much opportunity for such, as we were entirely captivated by the wholeness and unity of her performance. Her diction is excellent; every nuance of emphasis, every fleeting change of expression, every moment on stage is expressive, deeply felt, and of high emotional sophistication. She presents a form of art that is at once classically refined and contemporarily alert. A new value for our theatre…” [3]

It could hardly have surprised anyone that, upon graduation, Piros was engaged by the Madách Theatre. In the 1970s and 1980s, alongside the National Theatre and the Vígszínház, the Madách was regarded as one of the most prestigious dramatic theatres in both the capital and the country. For any young artist, it offered an exceptional training ground and a succession of excellent roles. Indeed, prominent parts and notable successes soon followed. She appeared as Gloria in George Bernard Shaw’s You Never Can Tell, performing alongside Klári Tolnay, Lajos Balázsovits, Péter Huszti and László Mensáros. She then took on the role of Luise Miller in Kabale und Liebe (Intrigue and Love). According to Judit Szántó, critic for Színház: “In Intrigue and Love, only Ildikó Piros’s performance radiated, with a distinctive personal refraction, the full scope of Vámos’s artistic intentions to the audience. She embodied the eternal Luise Miller, who, resisting radical reinterpretations, remains at once a timeless heroine of youthful love and an eighteenth-century German bourgeois daughter; yet she also articulated precisely the shifts in emphasis shaped by the past twenty years. In place of Ferrari Violetta’s fragile, poignant vulnerability, Piros highlighted Luise’s exceptional inner resources; she was harsher, more astringent, more intelligent, her beauty more earthly, sensual and less ethereal.” [4]

She achieved the most striking success of her early career in Chekhov’s The Seagull. Audiences, critics and theatre professionals alike agreed that Ottó Ádám had found in her the ideal interpreter of Nina. As Ottó Major observed: “I followed Ildikó Piros’s radiant performance of Nina with unbroken sympathy. One can, of course, imagine a Nina with a more romantic flight, more suffused with emotion. Yet I find her farewell in the fourth act more convincing, more authentically Chekhovian, than the familiar outbursts of romantic pathos. This seagull is a bird with wounded wings, and wherever she may go, whatever she may become, the shard of frozen happiness will never melt in her heart.” [5]

Her portrayal of Desdemona – opposite Ferenc Bessenyei’s Othello and Péter Huszti’s Iago – brought further acclaim. She sought to move beyond traditional, one-dimensional interpretations, aiming instead for a portrayal of greater naturalness and nuance. As Béla Mátrai-Betegh wrote: “Desdemona’s purity is deeply moving – almost other-worldly – as Piros lets her drift across her own sky like a light cloud. She floats above, yet somehow becomes entangled in the gutters, mud and blood below. In her performance, innocent joy beholds its own reflection in the mirror of horror.” [6]

A significant milestone in her career – and one of the actress’s own most cherished roles – was Heloise in Ronald Millar’s Abelard and Heloise, a play less familiar to Hungarian audiences. Once again, she appeared alongside Péter Huszti, in a production directed by Imre Kerényi. The unusual theme – an illicit ecclesiastical love – and the performances of the leading pair, who were married in real life, both contributed to the production’s success. “We have never seen Ildikó Piros so complete. The radiance of the actress arises from the harmony of inner and outer beauty; she convinces us of Heloise’s triumphant love even in her humiliation, and reveals the sometimes even greater stature of Heloise – whose spirit, unbroken and freely soaring, is shown as strong and majestic.” [7] wrote Imre Demeter about her.

From the second half of the 1970s onwards she appeared alternately in classical and contemporary plays.

She was Míra in Imre Sarkadi’s Elveszett paradicsom (lit. Lost Paradise), Ophelia alongside Péter Huszti’s Hamlet, Irina in Three Sisters, and Viola in Twelfth Night. In András Sütő’s Egy lócsiszár virágvasárnapja (The Palm Sunday of a Horse Dealer) she played Lisbeth, and later Adél in Ferenc Molnár’s Üvegcipő (The Glass Slipper). These roles already represent the mature artist’s outstanding character portrayals. From Luise Miller she became Lady Milford. Schiller’s classic was brought back to the repertoire by the Madách Theatre two decades later. In the production created jointly with the Arany János Theatre: “Ildikó Piros’s Lady Milford is able to express, with great force, all the charms and cruelty of the court favourite, but also her sincere human emotions; with this present appearance she elevates this role into an important milestone of her career.” [8]

Among her performances of the following years, outstanding are the Actress in Ferenc Molnár’s Testőr (The Guardsman), Madame de Rênal in The Red and the Black, and Mrs Vizyné in Édes Anna (Sweet Anna). Another major success of this period was the title role in Schiller’s Mary Stuart. Alongside the gentle Mary, who accepts the role of sacrifice, she also revealed the character’s determination and hardness. The rival Elizabeth was played by Éva Almási. Asked by Zsuzsa Vadas whether, if she had had the choice, she would still have chosen to play Mary, she replied: “Yes, of course. That is who I am. But as I have already been Luise Miller in Intrigue and Love, and have played the great opponent, Milady – a negative role – why should I not one day be Elizabeth as well?” [9]

Her final period at the Madách Theatre also includes several repeated classics, now in new roles: after Gloria she played Mrs Clandon in Shaw’s You Never Can Tell, and after Ophelia she reappeared in Hamlet as Gertrude. Naturally, the two American plays must also be mentioned. In Tennessee Williams’s The Glass Menagerie she appeared as Amanda, and in Arthur Miller’s All My Sons, a drama confronting grave moral questions, she gave a memorable performance as the mother, Kate Keller. The long, thirty-seven-year era associated with the Madách Theatre came to an end with the theatre’s change of profile: the dramatic theatre was transformed into a musical stage. From 2007 she has appeared at the Turay Ida Theatre and the theatre of Sopron, where she continued to perform some of her earlier roles, such as Gertrude and Kate Keller. New tasks also arrived: Melitta in Egy szerelem három éjszakája (Three Nights of Love), and the female lead alongside Péter Huszti in Arbuzov’s A Late Meeting.

She has spoken on numerous occasions about her performances, her approach to character formation, and her relationship with her directors. Of particular importance to her is the network of relations between the characters, and the exploration of these interconnections. Instead of constructing a role from within, she approaches the character from the outside inwards, gradually building herself into the figure. “The fact that I can draw makes role interpretation easier. I regularly draw my roles; I need to see from the outside what I should become. Sándor Pécsi, whom I loved dearly, did the same… I do not believe that an actor can simply pick up the characteristic traits of a figure in the street or elsewhere. It must come from within. It is true that we ‘build’ from our experiences and memories, but these elements must be assembled, recreated.” [10]

She maintains that throughout her entire career she has been fortunate with her directors. She met Imre Kerényi at the Academy, and he accompanied almost her whole career. Among those who directed her were László Vámos, Tamás Szirtes, András Léner and István Verebes. Yet she owes the most to Ottó Ádám, who, at the end of the 1960s, created a new company at the Madách Theatre, within which Ildikó Piros became one of the leading artists. Her relationship to her directors was fundamentally shaped by the fact that, even at the beginning of her career, she wished to be an active collaborator in the staging of a play, not merely the embodiment of a preconceived concept: “In order to understand my director’s intention properly, I must know the entire play very well. It is an important task for me to think about it extensively, and of course primarily about the roles. Adaptation to the director does not mean that the actor cannot have observations or even objections.” [11]

She has often spoken of her grandfather, a special-education teacher, to whom she owes her beautiful speech. Even during her college years, it was noted that her distinctive voice and articulation were effectively reflected in her character portrayals: “Her voice is disciplined, clear and confident. Its hard, almost dispassionate tone stands in a curious contrast to her extremely expressive, highly sensitive facial play, capable of conveying the tiniest nuances. She knows how to remain eloquently silent on stage. Perhaps these meaningful silences were the finest moments of her performance. She creates tension around herself by listening intently to her partner, resonating with them, living with them, absorbing and processing within herself the other’s emotions and thoughts.” [12]

She taught acting for nearly fourteen years at the Hungarian Dance Academy, a role she always speaks of with great delight: “I am proud and happy that fate entrusted me with this task. I always wanted to be a teacher. Or rather, when I was very little, a ballet dancer. I could not have received a greater gift than to be able to teach acting to ballet students at the Hungarian Dance Academy. A beautiful circle has closed; every dream of mine has come true.” [13]

She has appeared in numerous films and television productions. Her most memorable screen role was Sister Zsuzsanna in Abigél, the television series adapted from Magda Szabó’s novel. She portrayed the gentle and kind, yet firm deaconess who takes the fate of the protagonist, Georgina Vitay, to heart. She still feels a strong attachment to Magda Szabó and to the humanistic spirit that characterises both the writer’s personality and her œuvre. It was this bond that brought Ildikó Piros back to the stage: in her one-woman show Abigél titkai (lit. The Secrets of Abigél) she speaks about the author’s life, quotes from her major works, and recounts anecdotes from the making of the once hugely successful television adaptation directed by Éva Zsurzs. “I have tried to escape from this profession before: at thirty I studied art history, later I taught at the Hungarian Dance Academy, but the theatre is my life. I was seventy when I decided to retire for good: at the same time, both my sons gave me a grandchild, and at seventy I suddenly had two again. I said this was a gift from God. Then I changed my mind, and for the centenary of Magda Szabó’s birth I created a one-woman performance entitled The Secrets of Abigél.” [14]

When asked in an interview what she loved most, she answered: sunshine. And why? A radio conversation reveals the reason: “I once played the Sun. At the Academy my first role was in a small musical acting exercise based on Prokofiev’s Peter and the Wolf, in the class of Ida Versényi. Of the twelve children, eleven were the storm, all dancing, and I was the ray of sunshine who, when the sky clears, only had to stand up in the centre of the circle. Aunt Ida said, ‘You’ll get a headdress on your head and then you’ll be the ray of sunshine. You will shine!’” [15]

[1] Piros Ildikó (Ildikó Piros), in Tükör, György Lehotay-Horváth, 28 April 1970

[2] Tehetség és szerencse – nyáresti párbeszéd Piros Ildikóval (lit. Talent and Luck – summer evening dialogue with Ildiko Piros), in Film Színház Muzsika, György Sas, 08 August 1970

[3] Alekszej Tolsztoj: Rakéta – Bemutató a Madách Kamaraszínházban (lit. Alexei Tolstoy: The Rocket – Performance at the Madách Chamber Theatre), Esti Hírlap, Tamás Barabás, 11 October 1969

[4] Mit kezdjünk a romantikával? (lit. What to do with Romanticism?) in Színház 1971/7, Judit Szántó

[5] A Sirály – Színházi levél (lit. The Seagull – Theatre letter) in Tükör, Ottó Major, 15 February 1972

[6] Othello, in Magyar Nemzet, Béla Mátrai-Betegh, 14 October 1973

[7] Abelard és Heloïse (Abelard and Heloise), in Film Színház Muzsika, Imre Demeter, 30 November 1974

[8] Ferdinánd, hol vagy? (lit. Ferdinand, where are you?) in Vasárnapi Hírek, Tibor Bános, 03 November 1991

[9] Stuart Mária: Piros Ildikó (Lit. Mary Stuart: Ildikó Piros) in Taps 1994/6, Zsuzsa Vadas

[10] Piros Ildikó, Aki megnyerte a közönséget (Ildikó Piros: Who Captivated the Audience) in Ország-Világ, Ilona Schmegner, 07 August 1991

[11] Desdemona: Piros Ildikó (lit. Desdemona: Ildikó Piros) in Néző 1973/9, Kecskemét

[12] Fiatalok a Rakétában (lit. Young People in the Rocket), in Színház 1970/1., Vera Márton

[13] „Engem a sors a tenyerén hordoz" (lit. "Fate has Carried Me in Its Palm"), in Keresztény Élet, Kinga Jálics, 26 February 2006

[14] Szabó Magda csábította vissza a színpadra Piros Ildikót (lit. Ildikó Piros was enticed back to the stage by Magda Szabó), in Best Magazin, 03 April 2022

[15] n.d., Hungarian Radio, Szivárvány, László Rapcsányi

[2022]