Friedrich Dürrenmatt

The Visit

Main stage

The Visitors

Claire Zachanassian
Magda Stief
József Bíró
Moby, the seventh housband
Melinda Kántor
Hoby, the eigth housband
Loránd Farkas
Zoby, the ninth housband
Rita Sigmond
Koby, first blind man
Áron Dimény
Loby, second blind man
Alpár Fogarasi
Szabolcs Balla
Csaba Marosán
The Visited

Alfred Ill
Attila Orbán
Madam Ill
Gizella Kicsid
Karl, Ill's son
Balázs Bodolai
Ottilie, Ill's daughter
Éva Imre
The Mayor
Zsolt Bogdán
The priest
Ervin Szűcs
The doctor
Lóránd Váta
The teacher
Gábor Viola
The policeman
Sándor Keresztes
The painter
Levente Molnár
First citizen
Róbert Laczkó Vass
Second citizen
András Buzási
Third citizen
Ferenc Sinkó
First woman
Réka Csutak
Second woman
Júlia Laczó
The others

The executor
Áron Dimény
The conductor
Zsolt Vatány / Péter Árus
The uncomfortables

Csilla Albert
TV reporter
Andrea Vindis

directed by
Gábor Tompa
András Visky
set design
Helmut Stürmer
costume design
Carmencita Brojboiu
Ilona Varga-Járó
original music by
Vasile Şirli
Johanna Bodor
set designer`s assistant
Cezarina Iulia Popescu
director's assistant
Kinga Kovács , Gábor Viola
stage manager
Pál Böjthe
Emőke Veres

Date of the opening: january 07, 2015

Friedrich Dürrenmatt's The Visit is his only theatrical piece and he termed it not simply a comedy, but a tragicomedy. Dürrenmatt said that although tragedy is impossible in our modern times, it hides in the depths of our grotesque stories in almost every case.  “The flow of the tragic stream” has been given a new form by the society of our times, since today it is society and not fate that eliminates its heroes. Dürrenmatt is interested in this tragic element in comedy, just like Shakespeare, whose comedies reveal a certain cruelty that suddenly pops up from underneath the surface.
The Visit is a pathological report of a small rural town. A town where the local community repeating moral clichés and forming “little circles”, “little public bodies”, societies, assemblies and other alliances of interests is proud of its own blamelessness, while its every inch is corrupt and mercenary.
Claire Zachanassian’s revenge is not so much against Alfred Ill who played her false, but against this community, living in the bonds of its own pettiness, whose corruption she exposes. Tragedy, writes Dürrenmatt, is devoid of objectivity. Moreover it makes it impossible, while comedy practically creates it. I think that this indispensable aesthetical objectivity could help us to see more clearly, and to understand the community of which we are part.

Gábor Tompa