Recently, Viktor Kravchenko's world-famous but lesser-known work I Chose Freedom was published for the first time in Hungary by the Maladype Theatre. The author was, in his youth, part of the establishment of the Stalinist regime; having turned away from the system, he emigrated to America, where he wrote his memoirs. He was likely executed by the KGB. His work is often compared to Arthur Koestler's Darkness at Noon or Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn's writings on the Gulag. Kravchenko’s autobiographical account, which is a powerful indictment against Stalin, will soon be dramatized and performed by the Maladype’s leader, Zoltán Balázs – "as a one-man manifesto." The actor-director recently issued a statement protesting the absurdities in the support of independent theaters.

- In his book, Kravchenko demonstrates that even an active participant in a dictatorship can return to the deeply encoded human desire for freedom. Why has this globally recognized work not been published here until now?

- I don’t know, but I’ve experienced this myself: Hungarian literary figures and historians have heard of it, they know Kravchenko’s name, some have researched it, but very few have read the book in English. The book no longer offers new insights into the era of Stalinism, but it is unique in how the author describes the "replanning" of his own thinking under the conditions of that system. His childhood memories are marked by continuous self-examination and self-reflection. Meanwhile, it also becomes clear that there is no social system where the issue of personal responsibility can be avoided.

- How did you come across the book?

- I read about the work six years ago in an interview with Ariane Mnouchkine. The world-renowned French director mentioned it as one of her five favorite books. The title of the book struck me due to its personal resonance. I tried to find the book through Russian sources because, at first, I didn’t know it had been written in America. Ilona Kiss, the former director of the Hungarian Cultural Center in Moscow – with whom I worked on Bulgakov’s The Master and Margarita – helped a lot. Through her, we managed to reach the heir to the author’s rights, Andrew Kravchenko, the only living son of the author, who lives in Los Angeles. After three years of negotiations, we obtained the exclusive rights to the work and the opportunity for a stage adaptation.

- The title of the book aligns with what you usually express as your company’s artistic manifesto: their greatest asset is freedom. Kravchenko was likely executed by the KGB in New York in 1966. Today, other forces are draining the blood of Hungarian independent theaters.

- Unfortunately, our experiences testify to the pressures we face from multiple directions. That’s why, when it comes to the possibilities of our work, we always need to be prepared with scenarios a, b, c, and additional plans. This is, of course, only possible with a strong intellectual base and an unwavering creative value system. Otherwise, true change, which also keeps the spirit in condition, is the essence of theater. If a creative workshop cannot identify with this, it is not viable.

- That's quite theoretical. You recently bid farewell to the Szputnyik Hajózási Társaság, led by Viktor Bodó, but others are facing issues as well. A recent news: the Jurányi House, one of the most important bases for independent creators, had five million forints retroactively withdrawn by Deputy State Secretary Péter Hoppál from the sum already awarded by the relevant board. You also issued a statement protesting the absurdities in the funding process.

- First of all: this broken state didn’t start now. It has happened before that deceptive dialogues were based on seemingly superficial encounters. However, this year, in the chaos surrounding the distribution of operational funds, we were shocked to see that the board withdrew nearly four million forints from Maladype, not the deputy state secretary, which further strengthens my belief that we must respond with a more determined attitude to such events.

- A series of statements?

- It’s better to work. We need to continue to present measurable and justifiable results. It is everyone’s individual and collective responsibility that the profession has reached where it is now. And unfortunately, it’s also a fact that the constant SOS signals or the endless mourning music for the fallen distract from those who are still alive. Those who do not see their survival strategy in the repetition of emergency calls.

- Where do you get money to operate?

- Mostly from collaborations with foreign partners and domestic support. However, the money awarded in the operational grant cannot be equated with state and non-state project grants, contributions from foreign partners, and other types of support. The latter can only finance the costs of a given project, they have measurable professional criteria and strict accounting rules. These are largely not "additional" funds that help with operation, and cannot be used for operating costs, so the amount awarded in the annual grant is of huge importance.

- I can feel the suppressed anger in you.

- Yes, it angers me the decision made regarding the operational grant, as it swept aside the activities and results of Maladype’s fifteen years. But let's also consider the numbers: last year, the curators were drawn from representatives of the non-independent sector, but this year they were from the independent sector, and yet they reduced the support. Think about the absurdity of the situation when even Béla Pintér and his company – who received one of the highest grants this year, 30 million – are outraged by the decision of the board. Of course, there are cliques now too. However, the support for independents has radically decreased, creating even more tension among their representatives. Some of the companies that were once subsidized have transformed, others have ceased to exist. Everyone sees the past differently. A company truly committed to its freedom is handicapped in this professional environment. I don’t want to forget when I only had dreams, and I started fighting for them, because it would lead to self-destructive processes within me.

- Your company participates in foreign festivals one after another. They will perform in Liverpool during POSZT, then direct in Chicago. But they always return.

- Primarily because I am still responsible for Maladype. However, regarding our existence here, the question constantly pressures me from within: how much longer can we keep doing this? Perhaps the staging of Kravchenko’s work will provide an answer for me. After all, the character of the author-hero also encourages me to strong self-reflection.

Interview by Ádám Sztankay, 168 Óra, 2015

Translation by Zsuzsanna Juraszek