Already Buried but Still Alive: Péter Halász at His Own Funeral

Ed. note: The following is excerpted from a newspaper article by the the noted Hungarian journalist Tamás Szönyei, originally published in Magyar Narancs (Hungarian Orange), volume 18, number 6 (http://www.mancs.hu/index.php?gcPage=/public/hirek/hir.php&id=12731).

The invitation arrived as an email attachment jpeg file in the typography of mourning.

You have your dinner and then you leave for an open-casket memorial service. The individual who has initiated this, who has organized it all, welcomes the audience at 10 P.M. sharp, wearing a black jacket, white shirt, tie, and red scarf. He explains that he collapsed after a rehearsal in October. It was not exhaustion, as it turned out; it was a fatal, pernicious disease. And then he says, "Interestingly it did not shock me that much. I thought: 'That was it?'"

Péter Halász is appreciative that so many people have come. Then, in the midst of the intense snapping of digital cameras by the journalists in the audience, and to the tune of "I Put a Spell on You" by Screaming Jay Hawkins, he climbs slowly and limberly with weakened limbs into the black coffin. The coffin is padded; nevertheless, it is not very comfortable. From time to time, Halász turns right, sits up, drinks from his mineral water, reacts to his friends' performances with a big laugh or a wave of his hand; he even corrects the inaccuracies of one guest who misquotes him. He calmly endures the ordeal—after all, he was the one who wanted this—but he does ask at one point what time it is (in other words, how much time is left; the ritual lasted until midnight), and later he notes that the crematory should be more comfortable.

Figure 1.

The invitation to Péter Halász's premortem funeral at the (Art Hall) on 7 February 2006, in Budapest, also the city of Halász's birth. The invitation reads: "We kindly invite you to Péter Halász's precrematory open-casket memorial service. The Family."

His voice is amplified by the microphone anchored to the coffin. Audience members smile as he just lies there like some kind of mischievous, bold, lean Snow White. His vampire picture, which hangs right above the coffin, falls down at a certain moment in the course of the evening: the accidental but absolutely adequate dramaturgy of life. Miklós Vajdai, Master of Ceremony and DJ, takes it and rolls it up, and the show goes on.

Figure 2.

(left) Péter Halász, lying in his open casket, laughs as his poster falls off the wall. 7 February 2006, , Budapest, Hungary. (Photo by Németh András Péter; courtesy of Magyar Hírlap)

Figure 3.

(right) Yvette Bozsik's performance for Péter Halász, who looks on from inside his coffin. 7 February 2006, at , Budapest, Hungary. (Photo by Németh András Péter; courtesy of Magyar Hírlap)

Figure 4.

Péter Halász gets into his casket on 7 February 2006, at , Budapest, Hungary. (Photo by Németh András Péter; courtesy of Magyar Hírlap)

Longtime colleagues, friends, lovers, and students say goodbye in words and music. There are long sequences of memories, personal stories, and appraisements carefully avoiding pathos, poems, and dark humor. Every performer directs him- or herself; it is the heart and the temper that determine the scenes. That said, it is all Péter Halász's staging. Morbid, we might immediately respond. In reality, not at all. Instead, it is very bold, completely natural, and deeply human. Halász says goodbye and provides an occasion for all of us to meet and to say farewell to him. Oil lamps burn and wine is also offered.

There is an ongoing temporary exhibition in the spacious [Art...