Today, the stage of the Novi Sad Theatre Festival was filled with all manner of fantastical creatures: jepuri, andraci, slute, and even tiny white house mice. They were brought to life by the actors from Zrenjanin in a performance inspired by the wondrous world of Voja Despotov, one of Zrenjanin’s most distinctive literary voices. Petrovgrad emerged in all its rich Bečkerek (the old name for Zrenjanin) colors and textures.
One of the strongest impressions of the evening was left by actor Kristian Kardoš, who portrayed one of the most famous Bečkerek andraci, embodied in the poet Despotov himself, with remarkable restraint, subtlety, elegance, and dedication. Speaking after the performance, Kardoš reflected on the world the ensemble created out of Despotov’s poetic imagination, on today’s his hometown monsters, and on what it means to live and work as an actor there.
Does Zrenjanin today still have any poetic wonder, any andraci or jepuri like the poet Despotov — someone who can play with words the way he did?
I’m afraid people like that no longer exist. He was a unique man. One of a kind. Sadly.
Why do you think that is?
Probably because the times were different. The world Voja wrote about in his works — the way he described the city, the way it looked, breathed, and functioned — has disappeared. Everything today moves much faster. There’s no longer time for things that require time, concentration, and true dedication. In the poet’s day it was different, and that’s why there are no personalities like him anymore.
Do andraci and jepuri still appear in the theatre from time to time? What happens then, and how do actors live with them?
There are always some andraci around. Sometimes actors deal with them well, sometimes less well — it depends on the situation. Of course, theatre cannot consist only of cheerful and lighthearted themes; difficult subjects must also be explored. We are here, we work, we love what we do, and we are always eager to keep working.
An actor is always hungry to work. Is theatre today producing the right kinds of things?
That’s a very debatable question. Subjectively speaking, I like some productions because of their themes, the actors, the directing — all the elements that make a performance. Others I simply don’t like, often precisely because of the subject matter. And I say that openly to my colleagues.
What is life like for an actor in Zrenjanin?
Well… let’s say I won’t complain. It’s not bad. We work, and that’s important. The theatre is currently under renovation, and we hope it will be completed within the timeframe we were promised. Things could certainly be worse.
To return to your performance, which is where we began: the way you delivered the text, guided the story, your voice, your command of speech, the atmosphere you created vocally — is that simply part of an actor’s craft, or is it difficult, in times like these, to find the concentration and dedication that such work demands?
Of course it’s not always easy. At the beginning we didn’t even have a finished text — we created it ourselves — so I thought learning the role would be easier, but it wasn’t. I initially wanted to make the text more playful, but the director suggested that I shouldn’t, because in the story we are telling Voja is no longer a child. He is a grown man, casually recounting his story, while everything around him is shown and embodied by the others on stage. What matters most to me is that our story feels authentic and joyful, and before every performance I concentrate on absorbing it deeply into myself.