Budapest Theatre Digest

The Hungarian government scraps its system for theatre subsidies.

(Photo: Béla Pintér speaks out again Vidnyánszky's role in having the TAO system for theatre subsidies abolished in his latest production entitled Jubilee Talks.)

In late 2018, the Hungarian government announced that the TAO system (a far-reaching framework for using tax revenue to fund projects and institutions) would no longer apply to theatre subsidies. What it will be replaced with – no one knows. No announcements have been made. Authorities have assured theatre companies that they will receive the support they were expecting, based on ticket sales in the year 2018, but so far this money has not materialized.

This is a typical Hungarian story, where there is so little information to be had and everything is up in the air, it feels almost pointless to write about it. Still, the story must be covered, since it my have profound effects on the country’s performing arts scene for years to come.

Reactions to TAO program’s abrupt demise were fairly calm and diplomatic – at least, in public. In the January 2019 issue of Fidelio, an entertainment guide, musical theatre producer Mária Rosta claimed, “I’ve known for some time that this type of TAO support would end. There’s simply nothing else to be done with all the abuses that lack of supervision made possible.” In the same issue, Gábor Nagy-Pál, leader of the independent theatre Stúdió K, opined, “For as long as I’ve known, we’ve always operated in crisis mode, and not just Stúdió K. All my life, I’ve never worked in a theatre with, let’s say, normal financial conditions. Now, we simply must wait. The problem is we don’t know anything, and so we’re not even able to react appropriately.” His company has requested donations over Facebook, which he characterized as a “cry for help”, to sustain them through the period of uncertainty.

It is difficult to uncover what suddenly motivated the radical change of policy with no apparent contingency plan. Nonetheless, in private conversations with individuals from many different areas of the industry, everyone names Attila Vidnyánszky as the responsible party. (In his latest production, Jubilee Talks, impresario Béla Pintér speaks very harshly onstage about Vidnyánszky’s role in ending the TAO program; yet, seeing as that play is a satire, his words would be out of context in this article.) Attila Vidnyánszky was appointed leader of Budapest’s National Theatre in December 2012, and took over effective management of the institution in 2013. For years, he has inveighed against the TAO program and called for its abolition. Finally, it seems, lawmakers acted on his suggestion.

What were the perceived problems? The injustice. Since TAO subsidies were based on ticket sales, what was to stop a large theater like Vígszínház (Comedy Theater) from printing unsold tickets, then claiming the subsidy for empty seats? I must hasten to state that, despite Mária Rosta’s comment, I have no evidence of abuses taking place, and I cannot say how easy it was to cheat the system. Still, the argument ran that huge venues offering popular entertainment had a great advantage. The main stage of Budapest’s National Theatre, for instance, has only a third of the capacity as the Vígszínház (Hungarian Quarterly, Summer 2002).

What effect will this have on theatres? Ironically, bigger institutions are better equipped to weather the freeze in funding. Smaller groups that survive off the subsidies suffer disproportionately. Take, for example, the Béla Pintér Company. They have no permanent venue and must always rent spaces for their wildly successful productions. (As a rule, all their performances sell out.) Director’s assistant Rozi Hajdú broke down the numbers for me.

If they sell out the Átrium venue, they can make one million forints in ticket sales in one night, but 60% of that sum pays the rent. The remaining 40% is not enough to pay all the actors and staff and technicians. Under the TAO system, they could recoup 80% of the price of each ticket. That was the only way they could make a profit. TAO subsidies were paid on a yearly basis, so they never received the money they had counted on after 2018, leaving them deeply in debt. Of course, they, too, have received assurances that they will eventually receive funding, but now one cay say when, in what form, or whether it will be the total sum that they expected.

In another layer of irony, Vígszínház finds itself in a good strategic position. The son of the National Theatre’s leader, Attila Vidnyánszky, Jr., has two starring roles at the venerable site (Hamlet and Charlie Chaplin in The Dictator). He has also recently unveiled his first direction for the main stage, Ferenc Molnár’s classic play Liliom. In effect, Vígszínház director Enikő Eszenyi is holding the young Vidnyánszky hostage. If new regulations were to go badly for her company, she could simply set him free. His career might not fare so well, given the current unpopularity of his father.

The future is uncertain. The most paranoid speculators talk of a government-appointed Arts Board filled with theatre veterans from the regime change (late 80s) who will decide, on a primarily political basis, what companies and institutions receive support. Call me naïve, but I doubt this outcome. How could theatre artists who lived through the political transition perpetrate a suppression of theatre similar to the kind they experienced under Communism?

No doubt due to changing market pressures since the late 80s, we have seen a slow shift from heavily-supported artistic theatre (where the director is the dominant figure) to more crowd-pleasing entertainment with higher ticket prices (where the main draw is the star power of the performers). These more recent, commercial-oriented companies (like Orlai Productions) are likely to perform better in the new environment, since they are less reliant on subsidies. In the meantime, we can expect smaller venues to raise their entrance fees.