The Ten Commandments of Drifters

"I never wanted to be anything other than a clown." (Hobo)

"I’m working on a monodrama. We will perform it in Debrecen. It’s about a musician’s life—not mine—through which I can sum up..." Hobo revealed his plans in an interview two years ago. But the charming young interviewer soon led the conversation in another direction—towards an upcoming mega concert. Now, rehearsals are underway at the Csokonai Theatre under Attila Vidnyánszky’s direction, and the vision he once hinted at is finally taking shape.

The Ten Commandments of Drifters speaks of journeys. Wandering may appear as a mere sequence of physical actions, yet it is, in reality, a spiritual odyssey filled with symbols and mysteries. It is the constant movement of a restless soul—the monotonous turbulence of an unsettled existence. Every departure carries the hope of finding home, every arrival contains the promise of settling down, and every unpacking holds the premonition that sooner or later, departure will come again.

The backbone of the performance is built upon poems from The Ten Commandments of Drifters collection. The structure of the show outlines the evolution of a musician’s worldview and philosophy. The journey begins with early Doors hits—
"When Music reached us too / And unfurled the flag of our hair"—
 and from the origins of rebellion, through the various chapters of blues, we arrive at the present day. As the background fills with photos and images, the defining songs of each era play, capturing the essence of a lifetime of musical experiences.

The performance moves from hit to hit, yet it follows a clear purpose. The creators guide the audience through a process of purification. They lead us to a symbolic three-way crossroads and then to the sea—a presence long yearned for by the musician. The sea—from where one can call across to the distant shore… The sea—from where one can cry out to the stars. This wandering journey is a confrontation with one's own past, one's own life. It is the grand act of seeking God.

But Hobo does not long for a solemn God. He seeks a God who cherishes playfulness, who protects drifters without demanding they abandon their wayward nature. "The greatest thing is to play," he declares.
 

"I have always chosen my own fate."

"I belong neither to the right nor to the left."

"Die, and you’ll be great! Posthumous success is the only payoff."

"I am not alone, and I am happy. I have a beautiful family. Even a drifter has a home to return to."