Lujzika is gone. She had previously disappeared from the public eye, since her fading vision initially made it difficult to learn new roles, while later making it impossible for her to take the stage. But she still belonged to the theatre, to the Cluj company, where the art that was so specific to her developed and was perfected. She was among those who connected great generations, for whom doing theatre proved to be a true vocation. To offer something important to the audience, to share the act of recognition with those who - as she herself said – breathed together with the actor during a performance. This was her aesthetic, as we would say today, but even today we do not mean anything other by it than a personal, meaningful and vital way of relating to the world and to God.
Breath means, in a more antiquated sense, the outpouring of the soul - yes, the outpouring of souls, of a multitude of souls, and a communion with them, a mysterious encounter, but all the more real, more palpable.
Lujzika's soul left us, but that doesn't mean she didn't also stay with us. She has returned her soul to the Creator, so says a common formula, but do we realize that this means all the more that her soul - with all her life, with her charmingly serene life wisdom - has become breathable for us, too? Alongside the soul of the One who created us?
A vital art: the simultaneous capturing of acting and the great questions that permeate our entire existence, a gentle naturalness and a tactful knowledge - perhaps this is the essence of Lujza Orosz's art. Her art was simultaneously modern and minimalist, as she knew what few know: that the present time represents but a single concentrated moment which if offered to the viewer in all its purity can create something lasting. She knew that this was the ultimate essence of the theatre, everything else was just a small, sometimes trivial addition, which is better to be rid of, than to let it turn into a self-affirming petty deed.
An optimistic view of life, I write, although Lujza Orosz was rightly considered by most to be an actress of tragedies. Her always strong presence, which imposed the striking immobility of photography even onto moving images, the exuberance of her voice reverberating the abyss of time, the enchanting transparency of her personality made her portrayals truly grandiose, important, and stirring. And yet we remember her serenity, her naturalness and her power to forgive, with which she had so generously gifted us time and time again.
The tragic feeling seeks answers to the so-called great questions of our individual and community life - it is from this constant search that Lujzika’s characteristic serenity shines through, because her worldview does not stress arbitrariness, the act of disappearing without a trace, fading into oblivion or the absurdity of our entire life, quite the contrary: it emphasizes the special value and, yes, the unmistakable magnanimity of our uniqueness that we share with others.
Even in her comic roles she always introduced a small breath of tragedy, because man is always a whole, even in his ridiculous fragmentation, even in his smallness, man is his own unrepeatable oneness. Lujza Orosz has never forgotten to keep alive within us this knowledge, usually rather suppressed than not.
In the production of The Bus Stop, her role asked for her to comfort a desperate young woman, who, while waiting for the bus that would never arrive, mourns her own deserted, unbearable life. This image, her compassion leaning towards the young woman, the tone of her voice, the reality of her presence in that situation, remained deeply imprinted in me. Not in my memory - that would be too little, because Lujza Orosz seems to have stepped out of her role, offering her entire humanity to her stage partner and, at the same time, to the public. In that moment I learned something about the theatre that I could only learn from her, something that evokes her person, and the singular vibration of her soul.
After losing her sight, she lived with an inner breadth, which it is good to be remembered. She always saw more than that which was visible. And now, when she has become invisible to us, we can see her again - using that inner vision we gained because of her - unchanged and, from now on, irreversibly so.
The apostolic teaching says "Faith comes from hearing the message": Lujzika's voice echoes within us the gift of her life, which she had generously shared with us.
May the Creator receive her in His infinite peace, which surpasses all reason!