Hungarian dancers set fast pace

The Hawk Eye, February 6, 2007.

 

Before the Hungarian State Folk Ensemble took the stage Monday night, most of the spectators didn't know what to expect. The music was foreign and the Hungarian lyrics were not understandable.

But the transmutable energy expended by the dancers didn't need a translation. Within the opening minutes, the audience tried desperately clapping their hands in time with the fast paced rhythm set by the bass drum and the first black-vested performer.

"They (the dancers) don't get tired," Johnson said in amazement. "I've haven't seen them break a sweat."

Just as Johnson said, the dancers moved so quickly that they resembled marionettes controlled by a frantic (but precise) puppeteer.

"It's way better than I expected," concert-goer Cindy Johnson said. "It looks like their legs are attached to strings."

According to Csecsi Katalin, who has been dancing with the ensemble for six years, learning how to endure such an intense physical workout is an acquired skill.

"The first year is very hard, but you get used to it," she said. "When you love it, it is not so tiring. If I don't dance for one day, I miss it."

Katalin is one of the few dancers who speaks English, thanks to a one-year stay in New Jersey where she studied English. At the time, she was baby-sitting and dancing in a strictly amateur capacity.

"My life is quite different now," she said.

Despite her love for America and giddiness at the chance to tour the U.S. and Canada, Katalin said that Hungary will always be her home. It has been 13 years since the Hungarian State Folk Ensemble last toured the U.S., so it could be a long wait to come back.

"I hope I have a chance to come back, because I haven't seen the Grand Canyon yet," she said.

For Laszlo Papp, a Hungarian native who moved to Fairfield 16 years ago with his family, the show was about more than dancing. It was a touch of home.

"I came here to study with Maharishi," he said. "Fairfield is a very nice community to raise a family in. It is like a little island."

Papp was there with his wife, Agnes, and their four daughters. Although three of his daughters were born in America, his oldest daughter Livia spent her first year of life in Hungary.

"I'm very much looking forward to it," she said before the show began. "I've never seen anything like it. Just clips on a computer."

Livia was especially interested in the performance because of her own background in Kathak dancing, which is classical style of Indian dancing.

"She's quite the good dancer herself," Papp said as he doted on his blushing daughter.

Although it was quite the challenge for Papp to uproot his family and bring them all the way to the Midwest, he said he is quite pleased with his life in America. It just took his wife a little while to get used to it.

"She keeps saying she never wanted to come here," he said.

Spectator Don Wilkenson was one of the few audience members who was prepared for the Hungarian dance. He had seen it before, when he and his wife stayed in Hungary for three days on a two-week cruise.

"We witnessed a lot the dancing there, and it is quite unique," he said. "It (Hungary) is a very different and interesting area."

Of course, no traveling dance ensemble is complete without an honored guest. 76-year-old Attila Lukovich was a Hungarian dancer for 27 years when he lived in Los Angeles. He decided to retire at age 62, and now helps the ensemble by working the DVD concession stand and performing other tasks.

"I'm an old fart now," he said with a hearty laugh.

Lukovich did not start dancing until the tender age of 34, when he moved to California. He said it was a hard age to start out, but he discovered a Hungarian could make a good living by dancing in America.

"When I was in Hungary, I didn't see anything in it," he said.

The Hungarian State Folk Ensemble, which was established in 1951, is regarded as one of the greatest folkloric dance ensembles in the world. The ensemble is kept busy year round in Budapest, where they perform more than 130 performances a year.

WILLIAM SMITH