Feeling like squatters who settle virgin territory by making a trip to the unknown, a troupe of oppressed Hungarian actors ventured to the states 13 years ago. Squat Theatre set up shop in New York City, creating avant-garde plays in a storefront atmosphere.

After nine years of city club life, they took to the road with "Dreamland Burns," their first work of a trilogy written and designed for the traditional proscenium stage. Tomorrow's 8 p.m. performance of "Dreamland Burns" in Eisenhower Auditorium offers an exhibition of award-winning special effects and incredible visuals.

The adventures and misadventures of a young girl, Alexandra, in New York City are told in this surreal representation of city life. The loose plot shows Alexandra moving into a Manhattan apartment. She begins an adventure with a palm-reading cab driver to plot the murder of her boyfriend after the couple breaks up. These seemingly everyday events are made fantastic by magical theatrical effects.

A 36-minute black and white film begins the performance, creating two levels of perception. The audience sits in the dark with the two dimensional screen, suddenly shaken by the explosion of live theatre. This contrast creates a great intensity of being alive.

Squat excels in its imaginative and startling visual imagery, winning four OBIE awards, two American Theatre Wing Awards, and a Bessie award. The set of "Dreamland Burns" includes four stationary mannequins cast in plaster and coated with resin. Previously filmed faces of the actors are projected upon the dummies, creating taling props. A Frankenstein effect is created as death gains life, art objects simultaneously become actors.

More than providing a pretty environment, the props become part of the action. Visual aids create an environment of total fiction, said Stephan Balint, author and director of "Dreamland Burns."

Every inch of the stage is used, and scenery ideas must be resourceful, said Eva Buchmuller, Squat set designer. For example, she painted a backdrop of red flames that doubles as a Manhattan skyline when the lights go out.

Manhattan enabled Squat to express the artistic freedom which had not been permitted in their homeland.

"What is natural here, as artistic rights, was struggled for there," said Balint. Artistic oppression in Budapest, Hungary led Squat members to perform in chapels, staircases, streets and personal apartments.

The absence of large theater projection in the small room performances created a special style for Squat. The performers physical interaction with the Hungarian audience initiated a close bond among the artistic intellectual crowd filling the room. "Those struggling fighters in our audiences are now in power," Balint said.

Banned by the Hungarian authorities for political activism in 1972, Squat came West in 1976. "Our message was our existence. There wasn't any straight political message. We were totally independent, which caused suspicion in Hungary. Our independence of art was suspected," Balint said.

Balint said he felt that old feeling of censorship as his lectures to the University's theater classes were cancelled without reason. Scheduled to talk on Wednesday and Thursday, he was left a brief note of the revised plans. Balint feels there was a fear of his inventive style of theatre.

Squat Theatre's art is distinguished from conventional theater by the accent on the roots of daily and personal life, Balint said. "We create a new piece incorporating the environment into our style and the way we perform. We deal closely with life, showing its risks."

Simultaneously, theater as art takes center stage. Drama starts before any action begins. Balint said artistic presence should stand by itself, with no hierarchy of scenery and action. Total art, including music, visual props, action and dialogue is the goal, he said. "Theater should be just as alive as life, yet the artistic aspect is just as important."

Internationally recognized for their invention of storefront theatre, Squat gave birth to a revolution of theater and space. Across Western Europe and on West 23rd street in Manhattan, Squat performed in storefronts, using real life streets for background. Audiences were spontaneously incorporated into the performance, such as "crazy people" who came into the store and were inserted without a break, Balint said. "Bums were dancing in the streets. Surprise jumps were made on you. It was possible then. The street was an open and homey place."

After seven years of storefront theater, Squat abandoned their city club for personal, social and financial reasons. "We don't want to become exotic specialists, using the same style forever. Storefront theater would then become a gimmick." The streets have changed, becoming colder and crueler, Balint said. Control of the street and its elements is crucial to storefront theater, but no longer possible.

The youth and craziness necessary to perform in this nightly spontaneous manner has changed with the end of an era. Storefront theatre was born in a period when "black art and funk met avant-garde." The era created a new New York, Balint said.

The problem with the present era is "everything is just culture. Culture, culture, culture!" Balint said. Theater was rooted before culture and goes beyond culture, making it "harder to affect the guts of" a University audience. He said students are presented with opportunities on a silver plate. The excitement is less, the college environment is artificial, and the resistance is harder. An extra energy is needed to affect the lives of people who page through books, accepting everything, he said.

To engage the audience for 90 minutes, Squat creates magic and allows viewers to step into the world of theater. A double standard arises as the members of the audience lose themselves in the play yet simultaneously feel their own presence apart from it. The performances give a good story by reflecting on important problems in life, Balint said.

"Killing Time," third in the trilogy beginning with "Dreamland Burns," is presently being written. Balint said it is less poetic and personal than the first, as the straight hellish experiences of a middle aged man are portrayed in a political commentary. "You can only perform personal things for so long before international importance breaks in. History is unoppressable."

Squat Theatre will perform "Dreamland Burns" at 8 p.m. tomorrow in Eisenhower Auditorium.