I was fortunate enough to attend a recent Budapest performance of House of Asterion, based on a play by Jorge Luis Borges.

This presentation was directed by and starred Croatian actress Čarna Kršul. Its initial viewing was at the Bethlen Téri Színház, a small Budapest venue perfect for this type of play. I came to the performance with only minimal knowledge of the play’s theme: the “re-” telling of the classic story of the Cretan Minotaur from an alternative perspective. And what, exactly, did that mean? I was uncertain.

Borges was an Argentine short-story writer, essayist and poet, a key figure in Spanish-language literature. His best-known books deal with common themes, including dreams, labyrinths, libraries, mirrors, philosophy and religion. As in many of his stories, Borges looks at a popular story through a different lens, shedding light on other possible interpretations of the events. Not always an easy read.

House of Asterion is a special mix of prose, poetry and dance, performed by three actresses of Spanish, Hungarian and Croatian nationality. Settled in the cozy theater, I watched the unfolding performance with interest and a slow awakening of its meaning. The production was simple yet powerful, consisting of a darkened stage with many large square two-metre-high columns scattered around the area. Obviously, this was meant to represent the famous Labyrinth of King Minos of Crete. And who - or what - inhabited this confusing space out of time? Why, the Minotaur, of course, also known as Asterion.

Following and interpreting the play is often quite daunting, due to Borges’s pre-occupation with labyrinthian metaphors, sometimes impenetrable language and obscure references. But once the viewer comes to realize the theme of the play, watching the performances becomes a pleasure.

The original play is basically a monologue by Asterion: how lonely he is, how his “house” (i.e., the Labyrinth) has a lot of rooms and corridors, but no locked doors. Asterion speculates about his own death, and eagerly awaits the coming of his "Redeemer", who will take him away from his infinite house.

Ms. Kršul’s interpretation of this play is accomplished through dialogue, dance and the interaction between the three characters. Asterion struggles with his lonely life and his belief that someday, somehow, a Redeemer will come to lift him out of his physical and emotional despair. His anguish is expressed through dances and also using the poetry of Croatian writer Zoran Kršul (Čarna’s father).

Once the viewer lets go of the modern, physical world and descends into the emotional and metaphysical labyrinth, the performance proceeds with a vigor and intensity that complement and, in fact, enhance Borges’s basic themes.

The minimalist staging, coupled with basic lighting and original music by Dávid Katona, require the viewer to enter the labyrinth along with Asterion and his two ‘companions.’ The entire production is a tour de force that gradually, but powerfully, involves the audience in the perils and emotional traumas of the main character.

The choreography, by János Feledi, draws the audience deeper and deeper into the maze and finally, forcefully, ends with the climax any reader of classical literature will recognize: the slaying of the Minotaur.

The story ends with a line from Theseus: "Would you believe it, Ariadne? The Minotaur scarcely defended himself," thus revealing with those words to the reader that Asterion is indeed the Cretan Minotaur. As the lights dim and finally wink out, viewers accept the end of Asterion, all the while asking the question, “Has he been redeemed?” The answer is ours to determine.

Cast: Vanesa Hidalgo Martín, Lili Teiter, Čarna Kršul
Choreography: János Feledi
Sound design: Dávid Katona
Poetry: Zoran Kršul
Stage design:Orsolya Vadász
Visual design: István Csekk
Costume design: Zsuzsanna Antal
Director: Čarna Kršul

Photo by Molnár János

Article by Gary Lukatch