„Ne reménykedjetek, én nem gyüttment vagyok, hanem gyütt!” (lit. “Do not hope: I am not a gyüttment [an outsider who has ‘come and gone’], I am simply the one who has come.”)

With this sentence – “Do not hope: I am not an outsider who has ‘come and gone’, I am simply the one who has come” – József Szarvas opens the Barn Theatre and Gallery (Pajtaszínház és Galéria) in Viszák on 15 March 2007, an initiative through which he aims to bring theatre and the countryside closer together. This ambition on the part of the actor is far from accidental; indeed, when one examines his life and career, it becomes entirely comprehensible.

József Szarvas was born on 5 June 1958 in Debrecen. He spent his childhood in harsh circumstances, in the tanyavilág, the scattered farmstead culture of the Hungarian Great Plain. He trained as a butcher at the Irinyi János Vocational Training School and Secondary Vocational School of Food Industry in Debrecen. In 1977, he applied to the Csokonai National Theatre Debrecen as an assistant actor; out of all the applicants, he was the only one accepted. However, after just one season, he was dismissed due to being ‘professionally unsuitable’. His ‘lack of education’ and eye problems were cited as reasons. Szarvas was then transferred to the theatre’s chorus. Several individuals recognised his voice – including Fridolin Poták, a singing teacher at a music school, and Magda Varga, an opera singer. Still, without a secondary-school certificate, he could not be admitted to any formal institution for musical training. Ultimately, in 1983, he completed his secondary education and, just at the upper age limit, was admitted to the Academy of Theatre and Film Arts, where he studied under István Horvai and Dezső Kapás. (His classmates included Antal Cserna, Csaba Jantyik, Ádám Lux, Zoltán Megyeri, Judit Román, and Éva Varga.)

Between 1983 and 1987, he not only had to become an actor but also had to learn how to learn; in this respect, too, the years spent at the Academy proved decisive. József Szarvas received his acting diploma at nearly 30. At the outset of his career, he was burdened not only by his provincial background but also by his age, which caused him considerable frustration [1].

He would have preferred to sign with a provincial theatre. Still, he received offers from a succession of prestigious Budapest stages: the National Theatre, the Katona József Theatre, the József Attila Theatre, and the Vígszínház (Comedy Theatre). Szarvas did not consider himself sufficiently prepared; nonetheless, trusting the support of his former class tutor, István Horvai, he chose the Vígszínház. While still a student, he appeared as Kirillov in Demons, directed by Tamás Ascher. Critics noted his stage presence [2]. At this time, beyond the specific demands of the role, it was the world of Fyodor Dostoyevsky that occupied him most deeply, as it evoked his own childhood experiences [3].

The 1990–1991 season marked a turning point in his career. His 1990 encounter with director János Szikora proved particularly formative; together, they rehearsed Péter Kárpáti’s Az út végén a folyó (lit. The river at the End of the Road). Szarvas brought a raw, shocking sense of reality to the stage of the Pesti Theatre [4].

In 1991, he was cast as Valerio in Leonce and Lena, directed by Enikő Eszenyi at the Budapest Kamaraszínház Theatre. Once again, he delivered an outstanding performance and was praised by critics [5]. Roles that suited him so precisely brought not only positive reviews but also numerous awards: the Best Male Performance prize at the National Theatre Festival, the Critics’ Award, and the Zoltán Greguss Prize. In connection with the latter, the often merciless critic Péter Molnár Gál spoke with praise of Szarvas’s artistry: “Convincing in a dinner jacket or in historical costume, cigarette turned inward in his palm, or in heroic guise. His knowledge of life is not drawn from literature but from life itself. He knows every social type intimately and effortlessly creates their lifelike behaviour on stage. Szarvas, already a great actor at the Vígszínház while still young, had been working as a butcher before enrolling at the Academy. He had previously completed training at a meat-industry technical school, where – what a blemish on an artist’s biography! – he received a ‘good’ grade for cutting. Perhaps he cut beef poorly, but with infallible anatomical knowledge, he dissects written characters and roles [6].”

Szarvas’s portrayal of Truffaldino in The Servant of Two Masters, directed by László Marton in 1992, was a tour de force. According to critics, his acrobatic skill and dynamism helped maintain the production’s rhythm [7]. Also in 1992, he played Cliff in the Vígszínház’s emblematic production of Look Back in Anger, directed by Péter Rudolf. That same year, he was awarded the Jászai Mari Prize.

Playing Oedipus, who blinds himself, in János Ács’s 1994 production proved another defining experience. The role of the sightless Oedipus acquired particular significance for Szarvas, as he recognised in it the importance of self-searching and self-awareness. The performance’s authenticity stemmed from its deeply personal tone [8].

In 1996, he once again took on a lead role in George Dandin, directed by Péter Gothár. Unlike the bourgeois ethos of the Pest theatre world, Szarvas introduced a raw sense of reality to the stage through his physical presence. In connection with the 1997 production of The Italian Straw Hat – however well suited the role of Nonancourt, the nursery owner, may have been – he spoke to the press with some disillusionment about the portrayal of peasant figures at the Vígszínház [9]. After ten years, József Szarvas left the Vígszínház. He yearned for change and renewal, which neither the increasing number of film roles (for the leading role in Szórád-ház [lit. The Szórád Family], he received the Silver Nymph Award) nor guest appearances (such as his portrayal of XX in Sławomir Mrożek’s The Emigrants at the Pinceszínház [Cellar Theatre]) were able to provide. While he looks back on his seasons at the Vígszínház with gratitude, he considered joining the Csiky Gergely Színház more beneficial for his artistic development [10].

This move proved decisive not only in professional terms but also in raising questions about the village and the city, the countryside and the theatre. Although Szarvas’s physical type clearly influenced the roles assigned to him – at least at the Vígszínház – he nevertheless resisted the notion that his primary asset was his rural background [11]. Later, he came to regard theatre itself as an urban art form, a mode of expression that cannot function outside the city. Consequently, rural life experience could scarcely interest urban audiences on stage, except in minimal circumstances [12]. A provincial actor, therefore, must work through his origins, which can prove both disadvantage and advantage. “I do not really like living in Budapest, yet my imagination and my inner drive to prove myself force me to stay. Rural origins affect every actor differently; for Antal Páger, it was a blessing, for Imre Soós a curse. I brought self-doubt with me. Now, as a successful actor, I regard it as a programme to resolve this [13].”

In 1997, József Szarvas signed with the ‘elite provincial theatre’ in Kaposvár, where László Babarczy understood that broadening the range of roles was a vital challenge for the actor’s career [14]. At the Csiky Gergely Színház, he played, among others, the title role in Ivan the Terrible, directed by János Mohácsi, and the Chief of Police in The Balcony, staged by Babarczy. The Kaposvár seasons genuinely brought new challenges compared to his earlier roles, yet Szarvas’s professional curiosity soon turned elsewhere. While grateful for his time at the Csiky Gergely Színház, he found that freelance work from 2001 onwards offered greater opportunities, allowing him to collaborate with directors such as Gábor Tompa, Árpád Schilling, István Iglódi, and Sándor Zsótér.

In 2002, János Szikora invited József Szarvas to play the leading role in the opening production of the new National Theatre: Az ember tragédiája (The Tragedy of Man). His portrayal of Adam offered fresh possibilities for self-interpretation and posed a significant professional challenge. Szarvas approached Adam as a naïve, curious man [15], and this same naïve curiosity permeated his interpretation of the drama [16]. From that year onwards, he not only embodied Adam but also became a permanent member of the National Theatre ensemble, to which he has belonged ever since. Since the theatre’s opening, he has appeared in a series of major productions, working once again with László Babarczy, and later with Róbert Alföldi, Tamás Balikó, Tamás Jordán, István Znamenák, Eszter Novák, Viktor Ryzhakov, László Bérczes, and Attila Vidnyánszky. He regards the National Theatre and its ensemble as a benchmark of quality.

In 2007, returning to his roots in the village where his holiday home stands, and drawing on the knowledge gained throughout his career, József Szarvas opened the Pajtaszínház és Galéria (Barn Theatre and Gallery) in Viszák, a venue dedicated to organising cultural events. Here, his past and future converge: no longer ‘an outsider who has come and gone’, but ‘the one who has come’, since the Pajtaszínház may serve as a meeting point for exactly those values – village and theatre – which he had long regarded as mutually exclusive. In his induction speech at the Academy of Arts, delivered on 6 February 2015, he described the revitalisation of cultural life in Viszák as an activity rooted in the village community and its traditions: “I came to understand that the Barn Theatre and Gallery can fulfil the role it seeks within the community only through slow and humble work, and only if it is capable of contributing to the community’s traditions, its intellectual and built heritage, to their preservation, strengthening and safeguarding. It became clear to me that the creation of new values could be the driving force of my commitment – new values with roots, a past, a history. Only an intention to create value of this kind can justly evoke joy and pride among members of the community [17].”

[2016]

[1] “When someone in their early twenties embarks on a career, they can still afford to wait four or five years; I am already four or five years behind, and it would not satisfy me to begin with minor roles and only start truly acting at the age of thirty-five. That frightens me deeply. In fact, I think that is what I fear most – that I will not be able to make a breakthrough.” Szilárd Nyakas: Színről-színre (lit. Scene to Scene), Petőfi Rádió, 1 November 1986.

[2] “For me, beyond – or if you like, on this side of – the thrills of drama, the most exciting discovery was the performance of József Szarvas, then a fourth-year academy student.” Ibid.

[3] “Let us briefly set Kirillov aside: Dostoevsky – the entire Dostoevsky universe – I do not wish to elaborate now, but the way I have lived, the way my childhood unfolded, came back to me with tremendous force last year when I read Dostoevsky for the first time in my life – and acted him as well.” Ibid.

[4] “The leading role, Jani, was played by József Szarvas. He launched the play. Wearing a frayed jumper and shabby trousers, he stopped at the edge of the stage and leaned his back against the wall. From the moment he entered, he brought with him the burden of early rising, the bone-penetrating cold, the gloom of barely dawning light. He clasped a mug in his hands and slurped from it with sensual moans, as if nothing good would come his way that day – or perhaps ever. He crunched sugar cubes slowly and loudly, as though to sweeten life emphatically. József Szarvas’s acting on the stage of the Pesti Theatre was like a carefully locked door suddenly being flung open onto the uglier side of the world. The elegant premiere audience was struck by the harshest, most naked gust of reality. (…) The lived-in quality and vitality of Szarvas’s performance astonished and stunned the spectators.” Andrea Stuber: Színpadon már nem bukik Valerio, a Jani. Szarvas Szarvas kacskaringói (lit. Valerio No Longer Fails on Stage – The Meanderings of József Szarvas), Esti Hírlap, 21 September 1991.

[5] “The role of Valerio was entrusted to József Szarvas, who created a junior Balga: a figure embodying sound peasant sense, resourceful, and amiably wise. This Valerio is delightful – vitality, human vulnerability, and rustic charm. Pure life force. A veritable power-plant of vitality.” Ibid.

[6] M. G. P. (Péter Molnár Gál): Szarvas Józsefnek… (lit. To József Szarvas…), Népszabadság, 9 May 1991.

[7] “Like a marvellous acrobat, József Szarvas performs the dazzling feast for both his masters, while also catering for himself – starving for a whole day – thereby creating the standout moments of László Marton’s production, which may at times be slightly sluggish, yet is for the most part witty and inventive.” Esti Hírlap, 20 February 1992.

[8] “There are so few opportunities for someone to speak in the first person on stage. This is such an opportunity, and it is perfect. The self-searching one must go through in Oedipus is something I have been doing all my life. I believe that deciphering who I am is a lifelong programme. Theatre is such an effective therapy for me because, at times, roles reveal: well, this too is me – and that as well.” Katalin Szűcs: A civil Oidipus (lit. The Civilian Oedipus), Vasárnapi Hírek, 8 May 1994.

[9] “Yes, this is a kind of peasant figure. Directors tend to see me as a strong fit for such roles. Perhaps it is because I come from the countryside – my physiognomy suggests it. But sooner or later, I would like to play characters other than just the clumsy ones.” Kalapkérdés (lit. A Question of Hats), Kurír, 22 March 1997.

[10] “Had I not been at the Vígszínház, I would not have played in Péter Kárpáti’s Az út végén a folyó (lit. The River at the End of the Road), which, although it failed spectacularly, I consider a good production. The Pesti Theatre audience would not accept such a strongly naturalistic piece – it could have been a success at the Katona József Theatre. After this failure, I went to Director László Marton to hand in my resignation letter. He asked me to stay. The theatre – and Marton personally – tried to find roles suitable for me. (…) It weighed heavily on me that, although I was one of the Vígszínház’s well-employed actors, I still could not become a defining figure for the audience. The Vígszínház audience scarcely knew me; I hardly played on the main stage. My only leading role there was Oidipusz király (lit. Oedipus Rex), and even that was in the Theatre Tent. Marton perceived clearly that, from a business perspective, promoting me to the main stage entailed risk.” Gábor Bóta: Megszólalni, ahogyan csak én tudok (lit. To Speak as Only I Can), Magyar Hírlap, 24 May 1997.

[11] “I do not believe that my greatest asset is my rural background, but I do know that my physical presence determines many things.” Ibid.

[12] “I believe that my profession, as such, is very much bound to the city; it is urban. A city-dweller is not necessarily interested in the life experience I could present, because they would not know what to do with it.” Gábor Bóta: Arcom van, de nevem még nincs (lit. I Have a Face, but No Name Yet), Magyar Hírlap, 25 January 2002.

[13] Fruzsina Lázár: Élete delén jutott el a Paradicsomba (lit. He Reached Paradise at the Midpoint of His Life), Magyar Nemzet, 29 May 2001.

[14] “In Kaposvár, I played roles I had never played before – princes, barons, a tsar, a chief of police. Babarczy and his colleagues understood that I had gone there because I felt there was still much for me to learn.” Ibid.

[15] “Adam is a naïve, curious male role. And I myself am a naïve, curious man. I can still find this kind of adolescent charm within me.” Gábor Bóta: Arcom van, de nevem még nincs (lit. I Have a Face, but No Name Yet), Magyar Hírlap, 25 January 2002.

[16] “Our production of The Tragedy is about the fact that Pap Vera and I stand here, at this age, in the present, and look back from here. For me, what is most interesting in the role is how, with my age and physicality, I can evoke something from childhood, from growing up, and from passing away as well.” Tamara Török: Tériszony – beszélgetés Szarvas Józseffel (lit. Vertigo – A Conversation with József Szarvas), Zsöllye, April 2002.

[17] József Szarvas’s induction speech at the Hungarian Academy of Arts. Delivered on 6 February 2015.