An Anniversary Roll Call: 9 Years of Joy, Thoughts, and Theatre Magic at Reactor!

March is a very big month for us, a wonderful month that marks the anniversary of our Reactor space, as well as World Theatre Day! In our 9th year of creative activity, we wanted to take the pulse of the four wonderful minds on our administrative board who handle the planning and coordination of Reactor projects. So, we asked ourselves how things are feeling lately, what visions we've chased, and what our relationship with theatre is like these days. Here are two tough questions and 4 delightfully honest answers from Alexa Băcanu, Petro Ionescu, Oana Mardare, and Doru Taloș.

Happy Birthday, Reactor! Happy World Theatre Day! Cheers to 9 wonderful years!

How did you imagine Reactor would be after 9 years? What was the dream version you wanted to reach when this project started, or when you began working here? How has that ideal version evolved over time?

Oana Mardare: In the beginning, I didn't imagine too much about the future. I had just a single thought the very night before opening: "we are going to start and we are never going to stop." I had this exciting feeling that we were stepping onto a major path that would shape our lives, that we were playing our biggest or only card, and that this was it! The rest was a bit of a mystery, as the next steps weren't quite clear. I felt that the future would depend on the encounters and experiences we would have with all those new people we didn't know yet when we opened, who ended up gathering around our space (honestly, I only knew Doru at the time). And that proved to be absolutely true! The encounters and experiences of the early years were key to where we are today. I believe things were built "step by step," just as Lucia wrote for us in a stencil in the yard.

I think we worked for years with very limited certainties, going year by year, step by step. And while that "we are never going to stop" turned into a battle with overproduction, heavy workloads, and burnout for a few years, things have balanced out beautifully over time. I only started visualizing an ideal version about 3 years ago, during the pandemic. Surviving that challenge made me realize that this fragile structure we work in is much stronger than we thought. For me, the ideal version of Reactor is a joyful collective that supports the space and supports itself through working here, working without self-exploitation, finding room to breathe around our work, and truly enjoying creating together.

Alexa Băcanu: I never imagined anything like this, honestly! I still can't believe nine years have flown by and we are still here, still together. Instead, I used to imagine what Reactor would be like in 50 years, when it might only exist in history books (or who knows?). Recently, I've started to feel that this beautiful story of an independent space in Cluj that nurtured artists, experimented with theatrical methods, and built a warm community around it will definitely have a place in Romanian theatre history. I think future theatre students will be quite envious of us, just as I used to be of other artistic groups from bygone eras. My intuition tells me there will be a lasting legacy, a wonderful footprint of what is happening here right now, and honestly, what more could you wish for?

The ideal version of Reactor was actually the real version when we started: a place where your ideas can blossom into reality without endless negotiations and detours, a non-hierarchical working system with solid ethical principles, always looking for ways to grow and develop on all fronts. Over time, I think the dream version came to include the ideas of stability and breathing room. In a way, I felt like I was holding my breath this whole time, from project to project, budget to budget, hurdle to hurdle. I realized it's a marathon, not a sprint—a big step forward towards stability, I would say!

Doru Taloș: I don't think I had a clear picture of the future 9 years ago. I remember my first thoughts were all about sustainability and survival. We thought about that a lot back then, and everything was short-term—for the next year, the next 6 months, the next 3 months. A beautiful, ideal vision of the future emerged over time, through wonderful meetings with the people who rolled up their sleeves to help build this place, and that didn't just happen once. We have imagined, and keep imagining, other possible futures in dialogue with the people around us and in relation to who we are today. I feel we have never stood still; we've always sought to improve our space, our working methods, production systems, rehearsal processes, and presentation styles. Maybe that's something I always wanted—and still want: to never stop exploring, to honestly and directly question our work, always, no matter how challenging it might be sometimes.

Petro Ionescu: I wasn't with the Reactor team from the very start, from that legendary 24-hour opening packed with all kinds of performances and activities, and in some ways, I miss that experience. In 2015, when I returned to Cluj, I longed for a creative home, and Reactor had great potential to become that place for me, though I was afraid to get my hopes up too high. The optimistic and ideal version was one where a group of artists would form a community strong enough to create bold, valuable theatre for the world around them, and where financial, human, and logistical resources would allow them to turn this into a truly meaningful lifestyle. Along the way, things shifted and the balance between meaning, resources, and theatre wobbled a bit, but there have been so many moments of pure wonder when I said to myself, "Wow, I can't believe we made it this far! It's perhaps more than I ever dreamed of." Today, I still wish for that perfect balance. Even if those early days are hard to replicate, I sometimes miss the wild enthusiasm and energy of 8 or 9 years ago, even with all the uncertainty and carefreeness. Without them, we wouldn't be here today!

How has Reactor changed your relationship with theatre, especially considering how things work in the independent scene?

Doru Taloș: That's a tough one to answer. I'm thinking. Perhaps now I am much more aware of how incredibly important people are: both those on stage and those behind the scenes. How vital the work of the lighting and sound crew is, the set builders, the folks who make sure the house is full, or the team that drafts and manages our projects. And how demanding it can be to wear so many hats at once. There is a lot of vulnerability in theatre, and it can feel heavy when we feel alone. It's so important to work together, to support and uplift one another. This is also true when we connect with our lovely audience. That is the very heart of theatre for me; we need people. I seek to understand my relationship with the people around me, rather than with theatre itself—theatre on its own is less of my focus right now, it's all about the community.

Petro Ionescu: Irremediably, I'd say in short! I like to joke that I might have chosen a different path if I knew then what lay ahead. There are things I might have preferred not to know, or that feel very costly, and not just financially. Independent theatre puts you in the position of an outsider, which keeps you constantly questioning your place, and that isn't always comfortable. But on a larger scale, this reflection connects directly to the social, political, and ideological dialogues in society. In independent theatre, at least in my experience so far, you aren't just an artist—you roll up your sleeves and dive into the massive amount of work behind a production, a project, a space. Yet, there is nothing quite like it! Most of the time, this hit me during rehearsals, reminding me that I chose theatre because I love to play, I love being around people, and I love translating, reflecting, or even escaping reality in so many beautiful forms. And there's another unexpected gift theatre gave me: the beautiful process of learning. It's a kind of mutual education that isn't just about the craft, but about how you learn about yourself, the people around you, and the discoveries you make together. Over time, this inspired me to teach. That's why Fresh Start is a project that brings me so much joy and fulfillment, sometimes even more than working on a play!

Oana Mardare: Deeply and forever! :) It continues to be an amazing school. I'm so glad that the projects I work on still challenge me to discover new horizons. Although at first, I felt like we opened a theatre where everything I learned in school was turned upside down (funny, when you think about it) and that "these young directors" were asking for things I had no tools to deliver, I now feel I've successfully blended those languages and "tools" (both old and new) to understand so much more about this wonderful craft. We play a lot with performativity, non-theatricality, postmodern languages, distances, conceptualizations, conventions, metatheatre, personal stories, real-life material, and auto-fiction—things we didn't learn in school! I absolutely adore projects where someone is searching for something unique—a language, an aesthetic, a voice of their own. I feel incredibly lucky in this regard, even though I've had moments of total confusion, times when I felt I didn't understand the limits of my craft anymore or when certain processes pushed boundaries a bit too far. It wasn't always comfortable, and I thought a lot about what comfort means for an actress like me. I have some answers, which I'd happily share in private with anyone interested! :) I am happy to say that today I am doing great, I love the shows I perform in, and I love championing them. So, looking at it from this angle, it all makes wonderful sense!

Alexa Băcanu: It has changed my relationship with theatre tremendously, and it's not done yet! First of all, as a spectator, my expectations are different, my standards are higher. I need to see the spark of thought in a show, its reason for being, whether aesthetic or political—I don't mind which, but I no longer have patience for empty art that doesn't try, doesn't say anything, doesn't move me, and just exists in a mediocre or confusing way. I don't just expect to like a show; I want to feel a coherent mind behind it. And speaking of enjoyment, I've started to view theatre as a whole experience, not just a place to go and feel comfortable. I think that's the healthiest way to look at it if you want to appreciate bold, challenging artistic endeavors for which you might not have the reception tools ready, perhaps because they are brand new or don't fit your personal taste. I've started to see theatre in context, focusing on who is speaking, where, and about what, not just how. So, even though it might not sound like it from how I started, I've actually become much more tolerant! I no longer judge shows by absolute, universal standards, but recognize that I view them subjectively, based on how they made me feel and the presence of that creative spark I mentioned (which, even if it doesn't work for me, might make someone else feel wonderfully alive, who knows!).

As a creator, rather than a spectator, I think I've become much more aware of my responsibility not to spread harmful clichés, to do no harm, and to protect fragile things, even by accident. What completely flipped for me is the idea that to keep your artistic detachment, you must always be subtle, never directly vulgar, never militant, and never seem to have opinions. In the meantime, I realized that if you don't have opinions, you don't really have anything to say, so you might as well stay silent! All the legendary past artists we adore had strong opinions that they showcased in the most passionate ways. Shakespeare has the subtlety of a cannon (a very talented one!) when telling us how things are with family, gender, and politics. It's just that over time, the cannon smoothed out and became the canon! (A little joke that sounds even better in English!)

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