The Festive Dinner of Don Juan


Main stage

Don Juan, Don Louis' son
András Hatházi
 
Sganarelle, Don Juan's servant
József Biró
 
Señora Elvira, Don Juan's wife
Emőke Kató
 
Señor Carlos, ex-fiancé of Señora Elvira
Gábor Viola
 
Señor Alonso, Señora Elvira's brother
Ervin Szűcs
 
Don Louise, Don Juan's father
Csongor Köllő
 
Francisque, a poor man
Róbert Laczkó Vass
 
Charlotte, peasant girl
Anikó Pethő
 
Dunya, peasant girl
Csilla Varga
 
Juan, peasant
Balázs Bodolai
 
Statue of the commander
Gergő Bereczky
 
Mister Sunday, merchant
Attila Orbán
 
La Ramine, waiter, mercenary and others
András Buzási
 
Woman in Veil/Donna Anna, later Spirit / The time
Éva Imre
 
Tisbea, young woman in transit
Rita Sigmond
 
Fabio, once car mechanic at Fiat
Csaba Marosán
Wolfband: Szabolcs Balla, Renata Burcă, Gábor Viola, Róbert Laczkó Vass, Rita Sigmond, Csaba Marosán
directed by, set design by
Matthias Langhoff
 
costume design
Carmencita Brojboiu
 
dramaturg
Eszter Biró
 
musical coordinator
Katalin Incze G.
 
director's assistant
Balázs Bodolai ,
 
choreography
Ferenc Sinkó
 
stage manager
Yvonne Nagy, Imola Kerezsy
 
assistant
Maxime Contrepois, Diana Dragoş

Date of the opening: március 06, 2013
Date of opening: 6 March 2013

Duration: 4 hours 20 minutes with one intermission

Recommended for ages 14+


Owner of the stage rights for Histoire de l’Oeil (Story of the Eye) by Georges Bataille:
© Pauvert, 1967, 1976, department of Editions Fayard

After Tirso de Molina, written by almost Molière, with a little Mozart, da Ponte and Georges Bataille 

Scenic version by Matthias Langhoff and Eszter Biró


Music: Katalin Incze G.
Workshop 
AN OLD STORY
 
1.
Once, in a forgotten book in my library, I read about a girl who, while walking one shining summer day in Sevilla, discovered a church that supposedly was founded by the famous womanizer, Don Juan. On a brass plate, the girl read that it was Don Juan’s wish to be buried beneath the gate of the church. The penitent sinner wanted to be trampled upon even by the lowliest. The girl broke into such laughter that she could not, or did not want to, retain her urine. It trickled down both her legs, and a stream gushed on to the tombstone.
 
A few years later, I tried to find this church in Sevilla. Nobody could help me. Nobody knew about the grave or the church.
 
Finally, I found the grave and the urine drenched tombstone. But it was not in a church, nor in a cemetery, either. I found it near a building site or dump, 3464 km east of Sevilla. I bent down and wiped the centuries-old dirt from the weathered brass plate, and this is what I read there: “I did not want you to believe me. I wanted you to have no hopes about me. I did not want to be good. I wanted you to hate me, to laugh at me and despise me. But if I leave, you’ll realize just how much you miss me. Pay my servant.”
 
I left the place – the building site or the dump – uncomprehendingly. A fly that had inexplicably survived the frosty winter settled on my green patinaed hand.
 
!!! Go to the theatre before it’s too late. !!!
 
2.
On  my way home at the end of the  workday, I was leaving the rehearsal room, and between the bathroom and the staircase I noticed a cleaning woman watching me. She was grey, like most cleaning ladies, about my age, and she was smiling at me in a polite and friendly way.
 
I stumbled and she said, in German, with a slight accent: "Vorsicht" and "Guten Tag." then "Ach ja". I was reminded of Herta Müller. I recommend my work to her, to the cleaning lady.
 
Mattias Langhoff