Judgment Day - Almeida Theatre
Judgment Day - Almeida Theatre Judgment Day - Almeida Theatre
8 Horvath in a radio interview on Bayrischer Rundfunk, 6 April 1932 Since you received the Kleist Prize, newspapers and literary journals have been brimming with opinions about you, in fact I think it fair to say that no other modern playwright has enflamed the hearts and minds of the critics and divided them in quite the same way as you have. So it’ll be interesting to hear your opinions first hand. I can give you my opinions. And to save you the trouble of the first question, I’ll cut straight to telling you when and where I was born and whether I’m a thoroughbred German writer or merely some strange mixture. When asked if I’m German I can only reply: my cultural identity is undoubtedly German for the simple reason that German is my mother tongue. As far as I’m concerned, this is the determining element. Only then I would add the fact that I spent crucial years of my development in Germany, in Southern Bavaria and Austria. My name is Hungarian, I have Hungarian blood, Czech and Croatian too, so I’m a typical Austrian – Hungarian melange. But let me point out that the products of such racial mixing needn’t be the worst. It’s well known that many individuals of mixed race have been identified by later generations as the truest and greatest representatives of German culture. For example Nietzsche. Yes, he was half Polish for instance. And the painter and poet Albrecht Dürer was half Hungarian. But let me descend from these dizzying historical heights and get back to talking about myself. Let’s straighten this out: I frequently read articles describing me as a Hungarian writer. That’s utter nonsense of course. I’ve never written anything in Hungarian (apart from at school), only in German. That makes me a German writer. Anybody who is familiar with your work will be aware of your German, very Southern German style – even though you’re not a German national. Perhaps you could tell us where you were born? I was born thirty years ago in Fiume on the Adriatic coast. When I was thirteen I went to Munich and attended school there. Were you a successful student? Well, more or less. Actually, less. That was during the first years of the war. Yes, the war started while I was at school. When I think back on it today it seems I don’t remember the time before the war. I really have to concentrate to remember things from the peacetime before. I believe you and others of our generation will know what I mean. Yes, I certainly do. The World War darkened our youth and robbed us of our childhood memories. But let’s move on. Yes, let’s talk about the arts. Tell us Herr Horvath, how did you become a writer? In 1920 I was a student at the university of Munich and was as they say ‘interested in the arts’, but had never actually been artistically active in any way. Outwardly that is. Inwardly I’d been playing with the thought for a while and said to myself: why don’t you try to be a writer? You like going to the theatre, you’ve experienced a lot, you like to contradict, and above all you have this strange urge to write down the things you see and experience and the things you imagine others to see and experience. You also believe that you should never make concessions, and you’ve never been worried about what others say about you. And here we have all the trappings of what more flamboyant souls might call ‘the realisation of a poetic mission.’ By chance I met the composer Siegfried Kallenberg one evening here in Munich in 1920. Kallenberg suddenly asked me: wouldn’t I like to write a pantomime for him. I was naturally somewhat puzzled since I couldn’t imagine why he should approach me of all people – I was not an author at all and had never in my life written anything. He must have confused me with someone else, I thought, and at first I wanted to correct him, but then I thought about it differently: why not have a go at writing a pantomime. So I agreed to it, got to work and wrote the pantomime. Later it was performed. I received my first review, I think you wanted to know about this? Indeed. It was devastating and started with the words ‘It’s a disgrace’ and continued in that vein. But I didn’t really take it to heart. So you decided to pursue writing as a career? Ah! I tried all sorts of more conventional jobs first, but I wasn’t suited to any of them. I must be destined to be a writer after all, I thought. Would you say your plays have a satirical element? I’m a big friend of satire. I can’t help it. I’d be interested in your thoughts on parody. I expressly reject parody as a dramatic form. Parody has nothing to do with art and is nothing but very cheap entertainment. Herr Horvath, let’s talk about our mutual passion: Theatre. I assume you will agree with me that the theatre will survive the present dire economic circumstances. Theatre as an art form cannot die, for the simple reason that people need it. For me this is a self evident and obvious fact. The theatre dreams on behalf of the spectator, and
simultaneously allows him to experience the products of his fantasy. You may have noticed, that almost all plays feature a criminal incident – indeed, the vast majority of all dramatic heroes right down to the extras are guilty of some crime, they are not honourable gentlemen! Isn’t it strange that people buy a ticket and go to the theatre, dress nicely and put on perfume in order to eavesdrop on more or less slanderous things or watch how someone or several people are killed, – and hereafter leave the theatre in a festive mood, ethically excited. What is going on in the individual spectator? The following: his apparent abhorrence of criminal proceedings on the stage is no true indignation, but in actual fact a participation, an experiencing, and through this experiencing a gratification of antisocial cravings. So the spectator is appalled by Photo: Mick Hawes. Reproduced couretsy of Museums Luton & The Luton News himself. This condition is called edification. I’ve enjoyed our conversation and I very much hope that the listeners of Bavarian Radio found your comments and ideas just as stimulating as I did. Thank you. Translated by Philip Thorne – Assistant Director 9
- Page 1 and 2: Judgment Day by Ödön von Horváth
- Page 3: P Bermuda • France • Ireland
- Page 6 and 7: 4 Ödön von Horváth Christopher H
- Page 8 and 9: 6 A BIOGRAPHICAL NOTE “ON DEMAND
- Page 12 and 13: 10 CAST CAST IN ORDER OF APPEARANCE
- Page 14 and 15: 12 David Annen Alfons Theatre inclu
- Page 16 and 17: 14 Tom Georgeson Landlord For the A
- Page 18 and 19: 16 Photo: Jill Furmanovsky CREATIVE
- Page 20 and 21: 18 the Sun; Every Good Boy Deserves
- Page 22 and 23: 22 October - 5 December 2009 MRS KL
- Page 24 and 25: 22 RECENT ALMEIDA PRODUCTIONS Eilee
- Page 26 and 27: 24 ALMEIDA PROJECTS Almeida Project
- Page 28 and 29: 26 HISTORY OF THE ALMEIDA THE ALMEI
- Page 30 and 31: 28 JOIN THE ALMEIDA’S CIRCLE OF S
- Page 32 and 33: 30 ALMEIDA SUPPORTERS The Almeida i
- Page 34 and 35: 32 Jane Hill Caroline & Charles Heb
- Page 36 and 37: 34 THE ALMEIDA THEATRE COMPANY The
- Page 38 and 39: 40 ALFRESCO DINING OXO Tower Restau
simultaneously allows him to<br />
experience the products of his fantasy.<br />
You may have noticed, that almost all<br />
plays feature a criminal incident –<br />
indeed, the vast majority of all<br />
dramatic heroes right down to the<br />
extras are guilty of some crime, they<br />
are not honourable gentlemen! Isn’t it<br />
strange that people buy a ticket and go<br />
to the theatre, dress nicely and put on<br />
perfume in order to eavesdrop on<br />
more or less slanderous things or<br />
watch how someone or several people<br />
are killed, – and hereafter leave the<br />
theatre in a festive mood, ethically<br />
excited. What is going on in the<br />
individual spectator? The following:<br />
his apparent abhorrence of criminal<br />
proceedings on the stage is no true<br />
indignation, but in actual fact a<br />
participation, an experiencing, and<br />
through this experiencing a<br />
gratification of antisocial cravings.<br />
So the spectator is appalled by<br />
Photo: Mick Hawes. Reproduced couretsy of Museums Luton & The Luton News<br />
himself. This condition is called<br />
edification.<br />
I’ve enjoyed our conversation and I very<br />
much hope that the listeners of Bavarian<br />
Radio found your comments and ideas<br />
just as stimulating as I did.<br />
Thank you.<br />
Translated by Philip Thorne –<br />
Assistant Director<br />
9
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