{"id":489,"date":"2016-11-29T17:35:09","date_gmt":"2016-11-29T17:35:09","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.critical-stages.org\/14\/?p=489"},"modified":"2023-06-03T08:07:31","modified_gmt":"2023-06-03T08:07:31","slug":"love-and-landscape-have-style-in-czech","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.critical-stages.org\/14\/love-and-landscape-have-style-in-czech\/","title":{"rendered":"Love and Landscape Have Style in Czech"},"content":{"rendered":"

Festival Divadlo in Pilsen, Czech Republic, September 2016<\/p>\n

Matti Linnavuori<\/strong>*<\/a><\/p>\n

The annual showcase of best Czech theatre, Festival Divaldo, in Pilsen, faithfully incorporates one small-scale, low-key production in a nearly-experimental, or, at least, non-conventional style; the kind of production at which you nod approvingly, while waiting for something more obviously topical from big companies and big stages.<\/p>\n

\"The
The painting, the actors\u2014with Lucie Trm\u00edkov\u00e1 in the foreground, the hay from home eternal,
and the microphone stand in Double Home<\/em><\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

In 2016, the small-scale Double Home<\/em> (Dvoj\u00ed domov<\/em>) is not that easy to forget. Jan Nebesk\u00fd\u2019s production draws from the texts of Jan \u010cep (1902-1974), a Catholic essayist who lived in French exile following the Communist takeover of Czechoslovakia in 1948. \u010cep writes about longing for his native landscape and of the inevitability of worries brought about with aging. He reaches out for both his childhood memories and for God as the ultimate guarantee that all is not lost even when old age removes things into the distance. \u010cep is never sentimental though, and neither is the unpretentious delivery of the three actors on stage.<\/p>\n

During the performance, behind the actors, the artist Igor Korpaczewski paints on a large canvas the inner landscape of a \u010cepian world-view, and, on one side of the stage, Martin Dohnal on piano plays his music to the same effect. \u010cep\u2019s longing is for a rural paradise with bales of hay on the set and potatoes on the table, but I cannot help thinking that his wistful no-nonsense take could also be relevant for the many immigrants newly-arrived in Europe.<\/p>\n

Nebesk\u00fd (born 1953) realized Double Home<\/em> for the Jedl o.s. and NoD Experimental Space in Prague. Beyond the Czech language, I believe \u010cep is best available in German, but he managed to publish autobiographical fragments in French, too (Ma soeur l\u2019angoisse)<\/em>. Jan Zetiloukal\u2019s L\u2019exil de Jan Cep<\/em> (2014) provides further reading.<\/p>\n

\"The
The spinster (Hana Tom\u00e1\u0161 Brie\u0161t\u2019anka) marries her officer (Martin Sini\u010dak) in Oil Lamps<\/em><\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

There were other productions in the Divadlo selection which addressed national heritage issues on a grander scale; for example, Martin Glaser\u2019s direction of the beloved Jaroslav Havl\u00ed\u010dek novel Oil Lamps<\/em> (1935, 1944). Glaser and Olga \u0160ubrtov\u00e1 dramatised the novel for the Brno National Theatre. A spinster marries her cousin without knowing about his syphilis. Having a period piece in the Divadlo selection may seem a conservative choice, but Glaser and the actress Hana Tom\u00e1\u0161 Brie\u0161t\u2019ansk\u00e1 show, beyond any moralism, how being true to oneself means inviting tragedy. For a contemporary viewer, syphilis may not be a prime concern, but the many modern-day ailments which have followed are; the repercussions brought by a fatal illness remain timeless, which the production shows without underlining the point.<\/p>\n

\"The
The lovers of Foam of the Daze<\/em> sleep on the wall, the band plays behind the see-through oriental carpet at the back, and servants enter by rolling in via the coal-loading window to the right. Photo by Jakub Kopeck\u00fd<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

The directorial duo, SKUTR (\u201dScooter\u201d) of Luk\u00e1\u0161 Trpi\u0161ovsk\u00fd and Martin Kuku\u010dka, adapted Boris Vian\u2019s 1947 cult novel Foam of the Daze<\/em> (L\u2019ecume des jours<\/em>) for the Klicpera Theatre in the town of Hradec Kr\u00e1lov\u00e9. The novel is a surreal cinematographic read and every paragraph sounds like a set designer\u2019s wild dream. However, Jakub Kopeck\u00fd\u2019s set and Simona Ryb\u00e1kov\u00e1\u2019s costumes do not attempt to illustrate every whim of the narrative, but establish a fairytale crime scene or love spot, depending on the accent of the goings-on: at times, SKUTR emphasize Vian\u2019s oppressive view of what work does to those compelled to meaningless and ultimately destructive tasks; at times, the directors follow the desperate love intrigue with compassion, which they\u2014quite remarkably\u2014manage to do without flirting with performative decorativeness.<\/p>\n

\"Jakub
Jakub Kopeck\u00fd\u2019s set mirrors the distorted reality of Woyzeck<\/em>. Photo by Michaela Svobodov\u00e1<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

SKUTR\u2019s second contribution to Divadlo was Georg B\u00fcchner\u2019s Woyzeck<\/em>, in an interpretation of the Pilsen J.K. Tyl Theatre. This time, Jakub Kopeck\u00fd\u2019s huge set commanded more attention than actual use. With Woyzeck<\/em>, I had time to wonder why there is a microphone stand in so many Czech and Polish performances, and why actors grab the mike to deliver some isolated lines, even though they all carry mikes attached to their cheeks. Of local offering, more delightful was Tom\u00e1\u0161 Dvo\u0159\u00e1k\u2019s puppet version of Moli\u00e8re\u2019s The Doctor in spite of himself, <\/em>at the Alfa Theatre, with its inventive and witty role changes between puppets and actors: characters grew in size or withdrew into their real scale according to how much courage and self-esteem took over or forsook them.<\/p>\n

\"Obsessions
Obsessions<\/em> tend to cumulate to those who have, and Marek Cpin\u2019s set shows it brilliantly. Photo by Lucie Svozilov\u00e1<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Director Jan Mikul\u00e1\u0161ek and dramaturg Dora Vicen\u00edkov\u00e1 always create thrilling productions. (In Critical Stages<\/em> issue 12, Max Wyman reports on their Hedonists <\/em>https:\/\/www.critical-stages.org\/12\/the-ship-may-be-sinking-but-in-the-czech-republic-the-band-plays-on\/<\/a>.) The 2016 Divadlo showed their Obsession<\/em> (Posedlost<\/em>), from Theatre on the Balustrade in Prague (Divadlo Na z\u00e1bradl\u00ed). The set, by Marek Cpin, consists of two apartments on top of each other and doors to a corridor which hurls new characters into the apartments at unexpected moments.<\/p>\n

Obsessions are encounters between lovers, would-be lovers or ex-lovers. Very few words are exchanged, but, instead, gestures are grand, precise and meaningful. Sometimes they are gags, only to lead to a surprise turn in the very next moment. I wished I could have seen the show one more time immediately afterwards, but I also realized that, in doing so, I only voiced my wish to control events\u2014love\u2014which are essentially beyond control.<\/p>\n

\"Astrov
Astrov (Robert Miklu\u0161) with Sonya (T\u00e1\u0148a Mal\u00edkov\u00e1) in Uncle Vanya<\/em>. The deliberately drab interior is by Jana Boh\u00e1\u010dkov\u00e1 and Lenka Jaburkov\u00e1. Photo by Kuba Jira<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Stylish is the one adjective I would use to describe Mikul\u00e1\u0161ek\u2019s direction, and stylized is how the actors come across. Playfulness is the general tone of the Divaldlo, and I definitely do not have cheap, intellectually lazy irony in mind. Talking of style, in Ivan Burajs and HaDivadlo\u2019s (Brno) modern-day clothing production of Uncle Vanya<\/em>, Sonya (T\u00e1\u0148a Mal\u00edkov\u00e1) only confides in Yelena (Lucie Schneiderov\u00e1), because Sonya is so infatuated with the idea of Astrov that she must speak to someone, anyone. I am reminded of the Helsinki City Theatre version (2014) by the Hungarian director Tamas Ascher, where the drink rising in their heads brought about a short-lived solidarity between the two women. Back in Pilsen, concerns are not hammered home to the audience. For brutal messages, one must look at the foreign guests, of which Korn\u00e9l Mundrucz\u00f3\u2019s Disgrace<\/em> was discussed by Thomas Irmer in Critical Stage<\/em>s issue 8 https:\/\/www.critical-stages.org\/8\/no-exit-no-explanation-no-exit\/<\/a>.<\/p>\n

\"Venyamin
Venyamin (Nikita Kukushkin, right) reads from the Bible to his schoolmate and disciple (Alexandr Gor\u010dilin) in the Gogol Centre production of The Martyr<\/em><\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Kirill Serebrennikov adapted Marius von Mayenburg\u2019s The Martyr<\/em> (M\u00e4rtyrer<\/em>, 2012) from Germany into Russian society for his Gogol Centre production in Moscow. The religious fanatic Venyamin is now Russian Orthodox. He quotes from the Old Testament to condemn everyone around him: his mother, his schoolmates and, above all, his biology teacher who represents the voice of reason and compassion. Everyone else, authorities included, give in to Venyamin\u2019s demands, and, before you know it, the entire social structure has slipped into the command of hate-filled literalisms from the Bible. Good-natured, relaxed acting makes this even more frightening, and so does the knowledge that, in real life, Russian leaders do not hesitate to rein religion into the service of nationalistic political goals.<\/p>\n

\"The
The participants of the artistic dinner under the scornful eye of Thomas Bernhard (Piotr Skiba, to the right, with his exasperated hand on his forehead) in Woodcutters. Photo by Natalia Kabanow<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Krystjan Lupa has been directing Thomas Bernhard since 1992. The Polish master\u2019s five-hour version from the Austrian master\u2019s short novel-monologue Woodcutters<\/em> (Holzf\u00e4llen<\/em>, 1984) has twelve characters on stage plus one (Piotr Skiba), in the role of Thomas Bernhard, who sits aside and keeps falling asleep when forced to listen to the others babbling about their role in art and the role of art in their lives, or rather in their careers. Bernhard\u2019s criticism of the many hypocrises within the art world is every bit as biting as it was in the 1980s, and Lupa makes the artists really boring people. There is very little variation of rhythm and the movement of actors is stripped to a minimum: no wonder the Bernhard character cannot keep his eyes open. Unfortunately, the same happened to me and I had to leave, missing the last fifty minutes so as not to tumble from my seat. I understand that my praise for the Wroclaw-based Teatr Polski show\u2019s hyperrrealism is misguided, but I cannot resist the temptation. Five hours of monotony makes it absolutely clear that Bernhard\u2019s artists are overblown in their self-appraisal, but it also speaks volumes about the commitment Lupa demands from his audience to his artistic declaration. A stunning feat.<\/p>\n