An Account of “Something like a Folk Show!”

Friday evening, NAPA bar. I usually come here on Mondays for Alchemy readings, but the general atmosphere was more laid-back than at the beginning of the week. Maybe that was because almost everyone already had a beer in them. No matter the alcohol level, everyone was there for the live music – live music played by the English and American Studies 2^nd year student Matěj Vašíček and his musical partner Louise Hallgren. ¨

The evening was promoted on social media as “Something like a Folk Show!” – and indeed, there were moments of folk show. For example, the popular sing-along of "A Hundred Years Ago" that got the audience involved, then “The Saint Patrick Battalion” which Matěj performed alone. The two singers utilized not only the guitar, but also the harmonica. These, alongside covers and self-written songs, together formed a pleasant evening where all study and personal stresses were forgotten.

The following section of this article shall be dedicated to impressions of my fellow classmates who have attended the event. As for myself, I enjoyed myself thoroughly and though the concert portion of the evening lasted not even an hour, casually conversing with fellow students also helped form a relaxed Friday evening.

-          Anna Hupcejová

“The concert had a great spirit. NAPA bar has a nice cosy feel, which added a lot to the performance. It is wonderful to see our classmates being active outside of the classroom and cooperating with people from other countries too. Their own creative work, music and lyrics were fabulous, and I encourage everyone to attend next time!” – Kryštof Petrásek

“I didn't know what to expect and I somehow missed the fact that they were also playing guitars (which I like), so I was really surprised. They were both great, their own music was interesting, I preferred the slower and more quiet songs, but all of them were really creative. The bar was full and though I usually don't like when someone is making me sing, it was fun when the whole bar joined in singing one song (I don't remember what it was, something traditional I think). It was much better than being home on Friday night so if any of you will have any kind of performance in the future, I'd be happy to go there too.” – Alena Bulantová

"The concert was infused with the sort of energy that I've come to expect from someone like Mat. The addition of Louise Hallgren only enhanced the whole experience." – Andrew J. Buring

Lessons of a Conference

For almost two months I have helped organize the international conference “Winning Central Europe: The Spread and Reception of the Korean Wave in the Czech Republic and the Adjacent Countries” together with members of the Czech Korean Association. The event took place on the 28^th and 29^th of November in the Celetná building and needless to say, it was a successful happening. This article is dedicated to the lessons I have learnt and what I recommend to do in order to make the organization of any event as smooth and worriless as possible.

1)    Divide jobs between members of the committee and focus only on your specific responsibilities. I was the Conference coordinator and my main job was to keep e-mail correspondence with all of the professors and students concerning accommodation, transport, program, abstracts etc. as well as keeping registration of listeners. I wanted to help out with refreshments organization too, but it was already too much – and working late into the early morning hours, responding to e-mails and keeping track of various changes, is not good. Which brings me to point number two,-

2)    Limit the time you spend working. Honestly! Give the work 2 hours at most and get stuff done instead of working for hours on end, because you simply keep on procrastinating. The same goes with any task – essays, revision, reading that book for literature class or article for Linguistics seminar...

3)    It is the 21^st century, but still: get people’s phone numbers. It just may happen that you’re in a building with unreliable or slow internet and where is your God then? Ask for people’s phone numbers to avoid conversations like “I haven’t received your last e-mail!” and therefore extra stresses like “Because you haven’t responded we understood the deal isn’t happening” and having therefore to think of something last-minute (true story)... Just get their phone number and get all communication done in a matter of minutes instead of depending on internet connection and waiting forever for replies. PS: Thank you, girls from O.M.G. dance group (pictured), for coming in and performing even though our central medium completely disserted its role one night prior!

4)    Plan ahead. Where to order food; the location of the nearest supermarket in case milk for the coffee runs out; who will wash the cups and dishes and where, the route for the professors when travelling from the accommodation to the conference room...

5)    Sit down and enjoy the show. You have spent so much time and energy on this event, so make sure you get enough sleep and food to actually take the seat of a mere objective listener than a subjective coordinator. Also, this is the perfect chance to meet people both from the guest lecturers and audience and it would be a pity to waste it due to responcibilites that can easily be done before the event! 

Anna Hupcejová

The Czech-Korean Assocation (Česko-korejská společnost, ČKS) is a non-profit organization which organizes events such as Korean film evenings, lectures, Korean days in Ostrava and Prague and most recently an academic conference on the spread of Hallyu in Europe with the goal of bringing the two cultures closer to each other. More information at www.cks-korea.cz, in case of inquiries or interest in becoming a member of ČKS, write info@cks-korea.cz.

Selah Sue on a Sunday Soirée

To sell out Roxy on a Sunday night? That requires someone special—and Selah Sue (1989) more than fits the bill.

This hot & young artist from Belgium (her real name is Sanne Putseys) rocked the world upon the release of her debut album Selah Sue (2011) with smashing hits such as “Raggamuffin,” “Crazy Vibes,” and “This World.” Her idiosyncratic voice suffused with Soul was influenced, by her own admission, by Lauryn Hill, a singer whose songs drip with soulful smoothness, along with M.I.A., Erykah Badu, or Bob Marley. She has devoured her influences to furnish a flavour very much her own, a soul/funk/reggae fusion distinctly Selah Sue. Her voice is raspy as if she’s just gone through a shouting marathon, yet rich and endowed with excellent singing technique. In “Ragga Medley” (to be found on YT), we can observe a confident mastery of the reggae cadence. Crowned with giant bird’s nest hair, this petite 25-year-old has an awe-inspiring stage presence; she conducts the band with voluptuous authority and radiates a deeply sensuous female grace. While she’s at it, Selah manifests that to be genuinely attractive, one does not necessitate a swollen booty of a raw-meat-in-a-Tesco-plastic-bag aspect which other female ‘stars’ are trying to push down our throats. 

Sue is able to sing out a spectacular range of emotion; as the night of the concert progressed, as more had been shared, she articulated her inner world unto the club – made you feel like she’s confiding in you solely, twin intimate souls late in a bar. A Diva in the best sense possible, Selah Sue offers solace and reassurance that there’s still class in the music industry; that the rare breed of the Lady hasn’t died out.

Jaromír Lelek

Fun Times at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe

It is a rainy August day in Edinburgh, and the Fringe is on.  If you should happen to find yourself in the UK during summer - and if you can brave the Scottish weather, the crowds and the pamphleteers- then saunter down the Royal Mile and witness the assorted strangeness, wit and charm of the world’s largest arts festival.

This is no understatement; with over three thousand shows, a good number of them free, and the population of the city doubling during the month of August, this festival is a monster. It hosts comedians, musicians, actors, dancers, writers, street performers and whoever else decides to come.  The Edinburgh Fringe, the bastard child of the more respectable and far smaller Edinburgh Festival, has been going since 1947. Alumni of it form a “Who’s Who?” of the British comedic and arts scene; figures such as Stephen Fry, Hugh Laurie and Tom Stoppard had their first big breaks here.  Every summer the streets fill with performers wanting to follow in their footsteps, and audiences eager to see the next big thing. Some shows are good, some are great, some are downright awful but seeing all that is on offer is truly in the spirit of the Fringe. Every theatre, church, pub, town hall or flat seems to be hosting some performer, and you never quite know what to expect.

This year for instance I have seen some truly excellent improvised comedy, courtesy of the Oxford Imps the only paid show I have seen this year, stand-up from myriad comedians; some veterans, some first-timers, all free. There have been stories from a policeman turned comedian followed by a drama about a women’s intellectual society in 18^th century Edinburgh. A man in a tight animal-themed onesie dancing energetically to Michael Jackson songs on the busiest street in the city, next to him was a BBC talk-show discussing Ukraine. The streets of the city become filled with people in assorted strange costumes promoting their shows. One can stumble accidently upon a South African choir giving an impromptu performance of spell-binding beauty. Posters adorn every wall and reviews mark every page of the newspapers.

Fringe fatigue easily sets in, too many shows in too short a time. While some have managed ten hours of shows every day for twenty seven days, lesser mortals such as myself will probably find themselves needing a rest after their third or fourth.  Regular attendees develop a special talent for avoiding the promoters and pamphleteers, while newcomers are easily distinguished by the wad of promotional material they’ve accumulated. The worst faux pas is to actually take the Fringe guide with you around the city, at over four hundred pages its only practical use outside is to savagely beat slow walkers and mime artists or to use as a shelter from the changeable weather.

Despite the weather and questionable quality of some of the shows the Fringe is an experience which is not to be missed. Half the enjoyment of it exists merely in the sheer variety of it. To my mind there are few places in the world where you can enjoy such a vast buffet of live entertainment. Edinburgh in August presents an opportunity not only to see a wonderful city during a brief period of decent weather, but to sample as much as possible from the entertainment world.

Graham Bush

Concert review: Marketa Irglova at Studio DVA

Back in 2007, you could hardly escape the unbelievable story of a young Czech musician, Markéta Irglová: she started playing the piano at the age of seven; at thirteen, she met Glen Hansard with whom she later shot the low-budget, yet highly acclaimed film Once. In February 2008, nearly twenty-years-old, Markéta was at the Kodak Theatre in Hollywood accepting an Oscar for Best Original Song.

After the collaborative project with Hansard, The Swell Season, announced its hiatus in 2010, Markéta began working on her first solo album, Anar, released in 2011. Its follow-up Muna (Sept 23, 2014), thematically a lot different, straying from human relationships to the question of a higher being, had been finished for a while but the release date had been postponed due to Markéta's pregnancy. Now a year old, little Árveig has been on her very first tour. Markéta and her band had graced the United States and Canada with their gigs throughout the month of October, proceeding with the European leg of the tour until mid-November.

The concert at Divadlo DVA on November 10 was the last one out of the three in the Czech Republic, following Brno and Markéta's hometown Valašské Meziříčí. With my Once re-watch and the date quickly approaching, I was getting, reasonably, more and more excited to hear her ethereal voice and mellow piano-driven melodies in the intimate theatre atmosphere.

For once, I thoroughly enjoyed even the opening act. The Israeli-born singer-songwriter Rosi Golan played a forty-five minute set of acoustic songs, and the applause was getting observably louder with each one.  After a quick break we were presented the premiere of Markéta's new music video for This Right Here, and after that, shortly before 8:30, Markéta herself finally appeared on stage,  starting the evening with one of my personal favorites, Phoenix. Most of the performed songs were off her latest release but she threw in some of the well-known Once sounds. As I had not attended her show before, getting to hear the beautiful, Oscar-winning Falling Slowly that concluded the setlist was quite an experience! Shortly after, Markéta was back with a three-song encore: first, The Hill, performed solely by her on the keyboard. Then she was joined by Rosi and Aida for Golan's Can't Go Back and one more Swell Season's piece, I Have Loved You Wrong. After the well-deserved and persistent standing ovation, she came back once again, laughingly remarked that that would really be the last song of the night, and sang Karel Kryl's Jeřabiny acapella, encouraging the audience to join in. After the show, she was signing autographs, taking photographs, and, of course, humbly accepting a shower of praise by the merch table - where, by the way, people were queuing up, and both Markéta's and Rosi's albums were selling like hot cakes.

It is safe to say that the night was an epic musical experience that exceeded all of my expectations that were set pretty high. The aura of eeriness, fragility and modesty that Markéta has always emitted was present on stage as well as outside of it, and the way she plays combined with her angelic voice rightly leave concert halls all around the world filled with awe.  

Zuzana Ondová

Note: Photographs from the event are available at 

http://musicserver.cz/clanek/48856/marketa-irglova-rosi-golan-studio-dva-praha-10-11-2014-fotogalerie/.

The Musicalities of July and August

I was hoping to write quite an ordinary article about the Colours of Ostrava festival, using phrases like 'colorful, but stitched together from fine materials' confidently, making you aware of the many wonderful acts performing there or navigating you through the city, elaborately describing every band's style, all serious stuff like that.

But since it was a festival about music, it is the songs that can navigate you through my experience; which, on top of that, is all too intimate to be read as more than a diary entry, really. Sure, I will give you written hints – but mere names would be all mute. So, without further warning, here's the first bit.

Matt Berninger goes into the crowd during “Mr. November.”

If I'd say I was going there to see The National, it would be partly true. Lots of bigger or smaller (namely Chet Faker or Ólafur Arnalds) acts I like were going to be there, but The National? A treat! Of course, you can feel the atmosphere only partly from shitty videos like this. But, for sure, the lead singer taking a little walk is a sensation (even if he does it regularly). Mr. Berninger coolly strolling on the stage, drinking his wine, dived into the people with the strangest kind of self-confidence.

Sir Robert Plant & Sensational Spaceshifters!

Old, but still roarin'. Mr. Plant's got it all – the voice, the ideas. The performance was not his only, as the band stole a large portion of the spotlight. The guitar in the classic Led Zeppelin song “Going to California” was so crafty I could not believe my ears (Jimmy Page wearing a mask?). Gradual tasting of new sounds from an upcoming album was keeping on toes even the most devoted Led Zep fans, who waited to sweat their four-symbols-T-shirts to “Babe I'm Gonna Leave You.”

Well, those were the big names! Of the acts completely unknown to me beforehand – here are some that really got my full attention. They were all excellent performers.

Seasick Steve, whose pal playing drums looks even older than he does, but the energy! Makes his own guitars out of beer cans, vacuum cleaners (and at one point the drummer became 'broommer,' producing the rhythm in a rather unusual (sweepy) way (sounded awesome, though; gotta tell mum):

Denver Broncos UK, “the band with the native American girl in it”; their sound was so full of quietness that they stood out in the ocean of noise:

Graveyard Train, with their chains 'n' voices:

Musicalities of August

OK, here we go. (“Can he get even more personal? What is this – a space for showin' off?!”) I know this is supposed to be more or less coherent – but not only Ostrava stays tuned during the summer.

Prague's MeetFactory brought the legendary, un-thought, un-hoped-of experience.

Neutral Milk Hotel were in town. If you don't know them – give it a try. That should be enough, I'll leave it as it is.

And just this Saturday, Jakub and Hanka, two classmates of mine (or maybe even your mates as well) performed in Napa Bar. Naming the event “The Last Last Sprinkles gig” was not that a bright idea as a) we want more and b) none of the explanations of “Why Last Sprinkles exactly?” were all too satisfying. The all-acoustic show was great and the duo even sang “Bloodbuzz Ohio” by The National (see the coherence?). But one singer-songwriter should be especially mentioned, as the event was somewhat a reaction to his performance:

Charlie Rayne and “Laura's Song” from the EP Thirty Sunsets.

Jakub performed Charlie's “Blue Eyes” and a few of his own stuff as well – while Hanka accompanied him with her voice and played the piano. In a couple of songs they were even joined by their friend playing cello.

And that's practically all you could have been missing and I've been hearing! At least I tried to transmit some of the vibes here and there – if you'd like, you can follow Charlie's facebook page (https://www.facebook.com/CharlieRayneMusic) as he will be touring in two months and Prague is surely going to be a stop. But even until then I'm sure there will be some live performance I'll be surprised and amazed by.

Luke Red

A Writing of a Reading

A chance to not only read great writing, but to have it read to you by the author is a great privilege. Many say that hearing the author read his/her own work often reveals something that had previously been hidden within the bowels of the text. On the 30th of May I had the opportunity to experience one such reading. Held in the library of the Anglo-American University and hosted by Stephan Delbos, the reading was comprised of; Diane Simmons, with her ‘Starry Night‘ short story, and a plethora of Burt Kimmelman’s poems, picked out at random, though with a certain bird feeder theme slowly emerging as the night slithered on. Accompanying these fine writers were Magdalena Císlerová and Jan Zikmund who acted as their translators.

photo credits: Anna Hupcejova

The evening started off with some light conversation and mingling around a buffet table laden with snacks and wine. Once everybody had arrived, we were ushered into the next room by Mr. Delbos, who proceeded to introduce our first speaker, Diane Simmons and Magda Císlerová. Her story followed a young woman who had arrived at an unmarked bar, only those ‘in the know’ were aware of. Waiting for her friend, she seats herself in one of the booths and becomes a fly on the wall, listening to the woes of a nearby table, where a woman is slowly spilling her guts about her new fling, the never revealed high ranking politician. Once Kim, her friend, arrives the narrative switches focus to Kim’s life story and how she had finally persuaded her lover to leave his wife. Having mixed whiskey and expensive champagne together, the protagonist becomes rather intoxicated and after taking a short bathroom break returns to see her friend has left her alone once more. The story was laced with dark humour and sharp jabs at the, at times ridiculous, New York lifestyle. Simmons’ story was punctuated by her translator, and while she did not put as much emotion into her words as the writer did, she did a fine job interpreting the author’s words.

photo credits: Anna Hupcejova

We then took a short break, with several of the viewers going over to personally thank Ms. Simmons for her thoroughly enjoyable reading. During the break, everyone filled their cups with their personal choice of poison and debated to what degree they liked the story. Following that, we were treated to several of Burt Kimmelman’s poems, most of which were taken from one of his most recent collections Gradually The World. His poems ranged from things he discovered during his travels, to birds and their everyday lives, to poems of loss and finally to the paintings of Monet.  While at times short, each set of verses had an emotional punch to them and often left the audience mesmerized and contemplating their words. Assisting him was Jan Zikmund who helped translate two of his poems and offer an interesting insight and academic view of the poets work.

            As the evening slowly wound down, everybody left the library and spread out into the city with the words of the two authors now wriggling inside our brains, trying to find a place they could call home.

Andrew J. Buring

Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Wales – Well, Maybe You Did

What do you actually know about Wales? Well, I surely didn’t know much – a country of Dylan Thomas, Manic Street Preachers, Catherine Zeta-Jones and of course, the town with the longest name. This (together with few scraps of Welsh history I remembered from Professor Procházka‘s lecture in ‘Introduction to British and American Culture’) made me think of Wales as quite a mysterious country and as it is always great to learn something new – especially about other cultures – it really caught my attention when I saw a poster at the faculty inviting for an evening presentation of Welsh history and language given on the 6th of May by two Welsh Erasmus students – William Francis Hannell and Elan Grug Muse.

photo credits: Ivana Herglova

The first part presented by William was dedicated to Welsh history and culture and gave us really in-depth overview of the country’s history from the settlement of Wales till present – the modern history concerning the political situation, creation of The Welsh Assembly etc. was probably the most interesting part for most of us along with Welsh literature and culture in general.  But the second part of the lecture presented by Elan was truly fascinating as it was focused on Welsh language. I’m not going to lie, even the pronunciation of the letters of Welsh alphabet wasn’t easy for us – and it’s probably time to stop boasting about the Czech sound “ř” as it is nothing compared to some of the Welsh sounds. But after we embarrased ourselves few times we could proceed with some useful phrases like Rydw i’n dod o’r Weriniaeth Tsiec (I come from Czech republic), Hwyl fawr (Goodbye) or Ga i beint o gwrw os gwelwch yn dda? (Can I have a pint, please?).

We were also told some interesting information about Welsh language system itself like consonant modifications (if you’ve taken the Irish course, it would be quite familiar to you) and regional differences in Welsh. After this crash course in Welsh we were completely exhausted – but the reward was worth it as everyone got to taste ffroes, a typical Welsh pastry a bit similar to pancakes.

Johana Lajdová

Book-dealing at Micro Fest

There have been great many enviable positions engraved in the annals of history. From absolute rulers considered to be gods down to the professional prostitute testers and selectors of days more recent. But none can aspire to touch the prestige and power that come with the job of a volunteer bookstand guy at the Prague’s Microfestival.

Backtracking a little bit, I am waiting at Havel airport to pick up Michael Farrell, an Australian poet who is to read at the festival. As he comes out of the gates, he strikes me as; short, serene and amiable. On my flourishing a Plzeň instead of a handshake by way of truly welcoming the poet in Bohemia, he politely refuses saying that he doesn’t drink beer. My beard drops.

Steven Fowler, a British avant-garde poet and another artist I was picking up, ecstatically received Mr Brown, the canned ice-coffee, and immediately tweeted it. Maggie O’Sullivan who is a sweet Yorkshire lady and a visual artist, walked out of the arrivals’ gate right into a minimalist bottle of champagne and some car hi-fi jazz which incidentally alleviated the conundrum she had been having; how the world does not appreciate its poets. We agreed that it is the people who make the world and I assured her that the unworldly people of Microfest would welcome her with flung-open arms.

image credit: Robret Carrithers

The poetry festival itself opened with the reading of Boris Ondreička who has gone to extreme lengths exploring normativity. Vanessa Place, the star guest, conceptualist poetess and a lawyer, delivered on her promise of a funny, thought-provoking and controversial show as one of her bits, as in comedy bits rather than poems, involved saying ‘I’m gonna kill you bitch’ over and over. She accompanied the rawness of the content read (‘content’ being a concept she would appeal against, however, as well as against any allegations that her work has any whatsoever) with soothing, swaying motions of her body. She explains herself as a mere mediator or appropriator and anything stirred in the audience’s bosom, she says, was already there—the fact that some of it seemed funny to me is an impression wholly constructed by myself. Place insists she doesn’t add anything, moral or message neutral. She appropriates and selects to shake and make the listener/reader falter in his world.

The musical numbers of all the nights trumped many a performance. The most remarkable was Jörg Piringer’s (pictured above) visual poetry performance with free-flowing individual letters that were appearing on the screen as soon as the poet spoke them into the microphone. They were arranging themselves into peculiar structures often interacting with each other like living larvae. This was hands-down beautiful. Jennifer K. Dick’s witty engagement with the world of science captivated one’s imagination and all the three concluding artists—Michael Farrell, Maggie O’Sullivan and Linn Hansén (pictured below)—delivered amazing readings as well. O’Sullivan, who also had her visual pieces screened, hit an exemplary balance between tedious recital and artless shouting, which unfortunately appeared in quite a few numbers – she insisted without imposing, yet in the end it were her words that did the insisting, as it ought to be. The Swedish poetess had one of the most mesmerisingly anxious peers, which together with her poems’ witty playing with history made for a riveting performance.

All the readings were bilingual with translators from the faculty (much respect to my colleagues for managing to do a great job with the often ‘untranslatable’ pieces). This added an interesting clash/merger-of-cultures note. Experimental poetry there was and it was handled with craft and innovation (Jorg), yet one asks whether in some cases the experiment wasn’t there just to patch up lack of content – kind of ‘shockism’ to abuse the political phrase. Nevertheless, it was a unique literary event. Microfestival proved itself to be the leading experimental poetry festival in the Czech Republic and all the kudos for that goes to its delicate and driven director, Olga Peková.

Jaromír Lelek

Evening of the Reversed Pygmaion Effect

The Pygmalion effect, or Rosenthal effect, is the phenomenon whereby the greater the expectation placed upon people, the better they perform.

Before I went to the reading of the Australian poet with Polish roots Jakob Ziguras on the 28^th of April (an event organized by the AAU and B O D Y), I read some of his work. Most of them I have enjoyed – though some were too philosophical for my taste. I looked forward to seeing the man behind the poems and needless to say, I had great expectations. I expected that I would like his poetry even more after meeting him and seeing him read – but this expectation failed.

I simply felt that the poems deserved a better presentation. The poet himself seemed kind and warm, but gradually I received the impression that he is distant. His persona was absent, he seemed to be unreachable – like a Grecian urn was for Keats. A question posed from the audience was if he could read something personal – he smiled and said that he could, but only after the second nudge from the audience did he do so. It was a poem about a vacation by the sea. Still, the poet seemed impersonal, aloof in his attitude and lacked enthusiasm and perhaps even emotion.

This I found was a great contrast to my expectation – he failed to excite me for his work and based on this conclusion and the fact that the Literary Theory exam is coming up, I am definitely taking the objective approach. The creator of the verses I choose not to connect with the creation itself as instead, I decided to read the poems (like “Pymalion”, included in this issue) in my mind, voiceless. In short, it was the evening of the reversed Pygmalion effect – when my expectations were not reached. I hope the next poetry reading attended will leave a more positive aftertaste than this one has. (Though the wine was good.) 

Anna Hupcejova

The Report of a Sonnet

How wonderful it is to see a brain, a voice and rhythm

Working together to bring out the melody:

Marťa luring the mind, Dan moving the feet – swing ‘em!

‘‘Tis pure music’ Hilly says, now to perfect the verbal malady.

Invoking the spirit of the poems, you could taste it in the air,

Timeless themes sung in a timely key: gospel, chanson, blues;

Emotional truth so striking, the tunes do bear,

Of love making worth the strife, or a sex-change operation – just choose.

In the ninth line Mr Hilský told us much oft’ happeneth,

Nobody there would doubt the soul of man:

And then hermelín, strawberries – music for the deaf!

Meeting brilliant people of the same turn, that’s how the rest ran.

      Absorbing Shaky’s genius through and through

      What is more important than me and you?

Even the bleak weather suggested some vile act of Englishness was about to go down. The celebration of William Shakespeare’s 450^th birthday took place in the Kolowrat theatre and one could sense it in the humid air that “Culture” was the crunch of the evening (besides delicious Elizabethan-themed snacks, cheese and wine – especially that sweet lemon-ish candy, Bětka you know what I’m talking about).

Some Guy (the art director of the theatre who also starred in Macbeth) introduced the show which featured none other than a man of Shakespeare’s own spirit himself, Martin Hilský; next there was Daniel Dobiáš, a musical composer, who put Shakespeare’s sonnets to music, sang and played the piano. They were accompanied by two singers, Josef Guruncz and Jessica Boone, a flashy-eyed epitome of a delicate Lady who also starred in Macbeth, and with whom I had the infinite pleasure to converse. Each of the sonnets (76, 25, 18, 20, 30, 64, 50, 66 + 2 encores) was introduced (sometimes read in its entirety) by Mr Hilský in his notoriously deeply insightful and riveting fashion that we all know from his lectures. Then the musicians took over. English and Czech overlapped as the genres shifted rather often; Dan Dobiáš always struck the right key, most remarkably with Sonnet 50 put in Gospel – Mrs Boone (who later admitted she’d been particularly apprehensive about this piece) gave an astonishing performance hitting the high notes with heartfelt precision.

It was rather surprising to see, upon attaching myself to a tour through the theatre offices, so many different devices to relax: there was a serene ‘green room’, there were wire crowns from Macbeth crumpled into little balls which has been presented as a very therapeutic activity and if nothing worked, Guy Roberts sighed and pointing to the T.V. confessed there’s always Game of Thrones to numb the mind. And to further the note, one of the encores of the show featured the famous sonnet that mocks the angelic lady of Petrarch’s sonnets by inverting all the stock clichés about her ethereal golden-locked perfection. Mr Hilský winked a funny tooth as he advanced with a straight face some theories of academics who asserted that the lady’s reeking breath might have been caused by wine and garlic.            

Jaromír Lelek

One, Two, Three: April Alchemy

These readings are a good reason to look forward to Mondays; to see familiar (and new) faces, to hear pieces of poetry or prose by familiar (and new) voices and to again sit in the cellars of the Napa Bar with a pint of beer or glass of wine after a long day. In short, it’s a wonderful escape from the world of responsibilities and duties into the one of Alchemy, where creativity and imagination are most valued and supported.

Image credits: Anna Hupcejova

It is probably the longer hours of sunshine and fresh breeze that made the atmosphere of the April Alchemy event so positive. The majority of the pieces read were optimistic too – poems of hilarious moments spent with friends describing farts, a few witty verses by Willie Watson (interviewed in the March 2014 MP, ed. note) or uplifting lines in the star-guest Tom Draper’s poems. I personally enjoyed the accessibility of his work, as he introduced not only the development of his verse, but also the experiences lying behind it – family problems, moving from Kent and Prague or simple instants of reflection when somewhere. Always after a short introduction, a poem was read – and this was very refreshing, as usually during seminars at university, the messages of literary works one is expected to decipher without much knowledge to the author’s biography. In this case, the work and life were heavily linked and was therefore not too difficult to grasp. 

After the perfect introductory performance reading by Draper and a quick (meaning about 20-minute to exchange words with everyone) break, the open mike session commenced. That was the time when adrenaline began flowing through my veins – for I signed up to read. As the status of names on the list neared mine, I grew increasingly nervous as well as excited; I worried about whether my short story would be as successful as my last one (“Heartstrings”, included in the March 2014 MP, ed. note). I honestly could not predict the audience’s reaction and that scared me.

Then my name was called and I went on stage with the thought “Just do it” in my mind. Nike, hehe. Focus now! Well, long story short, I was surprised to not even half-way through “Ducky” look up from the papers at a laughing audience. This positive reaction occurred repeatedly, I gradually loosened up and began laughing myself; joy, relief, something like that. Only of course, the conclusion made the audience go “ah no!” in shock and then they laughed, shaking their heads – because it was a little cruel.

There is no better feeling than realizing that what you wrote in a moment of creative spirit made a room filled with people smile and laugh; and an evening at Alchemy fills one with euphoria and adrenaline to create something as soon as possible, something worth reading in a month’s time again in the cellar of Napa to the citizens of the Alchemy Reading Series group.

Anna Hupcejová

Heli Review

Wednesday afternoon, I was scrolling down the Facebook page after the evening classes at the university, idly sitting on the river bank with a pack of almonds and dry fruits. A few minutes later my momentary slackness was interrupted by the idea to visit Fabio Fest to watch the peculiar masterpiece by Amat Escalante, a Spanish-born film director. I briefly took a look at the plot summary posted on IMDb telling that this was some “love story between a young girl and a police man”. Not really caring about that non-inviting intro, I called my friend to join me and we headed for CineStar. Later on, after the film ended, I didn’t really get the connection between this fabricated description on IMDb and what I saw on the screen.

First, the film was immediately touching yet silently violent, although there were hardly any sickeningly violent scenes the feeling of them was hidden between the shots. Second, it is conceived freshly and acutely. Not cruel, but “reality capturing”. Not loathsome, but captivating. You are, in the middle of everywhere, you cannot even think to leave the cinema hall to go to the toilet: not because it is so uncivilized but because THE FILM made you watch ceaselessly. You watch the kids being raised within that subconscious harshness derived from the deeds of natural savageness around them. You are aware of something bad to be forbidden but they are born without that morality. You can judge it and be affected yet you can’t move while you stare at how the young boys are suffering in front of their non-responding peers; while the genitalia of the former is sadistically set on fire by the older ones, while the girl with lacklustre eyes is drawing the map to some place since she can’t even talk after the sexual violence she experienced. The film never tells you directly how it was and what it was but the effect you get watching it is even more potent, indeed. 

Uneasily, you accept it. It is natural as someone is brought up watching severity, whose organically trained innards are able to stand and reconcile it. Some people in here, near you, right now, suffer. It is ok. It is how it is. Eat your dinner. Some of them suffer on purpose, some do so with no reason mentioned. Cruelty is born not to comment itself but to spread itself among those who do not consider it abnormal. Who is born to take your sister’s virginity and separate families. "Natural born” brutalized men happen, born not against nature but to make that baby squirm. Eat your dinner. No shame. You can do nothing. One dies, one lives, one kills. Everybody is bound to its congenital messiah. Eat your dinner.

Margo Kirlan