Our story began in 1984 when we performed Stephen, the king, a rock opera about the struggle for freedom, at a Hungarian scout camp in California.
This was a key moment in our lives.
We were born in the U.S., most of us to parents who fled Hungary after the 1956 revolution. Some of had never been to Hungary, and some of us didn’t even speak Hungarian well. But in 1984 Soviet troops were still stationed in Hungary and our parents either couldn’t – or just wouldn’t – go back.
In the meantime we became American-Hungarians.Emphasis on the Hungarian.
Over the decades we developed a double-identity, which was further complicated when many of us moved ‘back’ to Hungary after the democratic transition.
Now everyone asks me, where is home?
The story continues in the summer of 2009, when we meet again near Yosemite Valley and perform Stephen the King for the first time in 25 years. This might turn out to be embarrassing – or it might be cathartic. Or maybe both.
But I wouldn’t miss it for the world.
(Réka Pigniczky, Director)