Showing posts with label Issue number six. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Issue number six. Show all posts

Monday, 23 December 2013

Overture to the November MP

Winter is upon us, yet given the number and genre diversity of the articles sent in, inspiration has not fallen into slumber. In the November issue, the genres of interview, poetry, short story, travel and event reports are present – it is a highly readable one and I hope you will enjoy finding out more about students’ experiences at universities abroad, background of “The Tempest” production, the Doctor Who television series (written by our Native speaker co-editor) and more in articles written not only by the second year students.

You can read and download the PDF version of the MP for free over at this link:
https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B9XZHIul8APITjhGZ2w5d0tUUGs/edit?usp=sharing

- Anna Hupcejová (Editor in Chief)

Interview with Clare Wallace

Even though most know her through the Introduction to Literary Studies seminar, this associate professor is a specialist on Irish literature, drama and cultural studies. The following interview reveals more about the dark-haired Irish-born Clare Wallace.

·         Miscellaneous
What did you study at Trinity College?
Perhaps unsurprisingly, I studied English at Trinity.  I did a couple of years of French as well. However, I would have to say that the degree was only a part of the ‘study’ experience there. Trinity is a remarkable university partly because of the wonderful campus in the heart of the city and its copyright library, but also partly because of the ways in which students from very different disciplines come into contact with each other socially and creatively within the university.

If not teaching literature, what other profession would you like to attempt?
Teaching literature is my profession and I’m afraid I haven’t had much time to consider any hypothetical new ones lately. I quite like what I do.

·         On Literature
Is there a short story that helped you get through a rough patch?
I don’t really use literature as therapy, if that is what is implied.  There are a few short story writers, however, I would recommend Angela Carter’s collection The Bloody Chamber and Other Stories for an intoxicatingly playful mix of feminism, postmodernism and lush language; J. Sheridan Le Fanu’s In a Glass Darkly for delightfully gloomy Victorian Gothic and James Joyce’s Dubliners which everyone should read a few times.

Your latest academic book is on David Greig. Is there any specific reason why you study his works?
The reason I’ve spent so much time working on his plays is because they are fantastic—thoughtful, formally inventive and political in a manner that is ‘anti-cynical’ to coin a phrase. He’s one of the most significant and gifted playwrights at work in the UK today.  If one has a choice (admittedly not always the situation for a BA student), one should never write about authors one doesn’t love.

Who do you consider to be the greatest Irish dramatist?
Samuel Beckett.

What was the most memorable theatre production you have ever seen?
Best of all time – not sure. Best recently – I just managed to catch the last night of Greig’s latest play, The Events, in London. When I interviewed him for my book, back in 2012, we had a long conversation about current events, (in particular the Anders Breivik massacre in 2011) travel and his projects and it was fascinating to see how many of those ideas made their way into that play.  It’s a really moving and provocative two-hander about trauma, violence and multiculturalism—with a choir on stage.

Do you have a favourite piece of Czech drama or prose?
Kafka, The Trial; Kundera The Book of Laughter and Forgetting … cheery books like that.

·         On a more personal level
What part of Ireland are you from exactly?
I grew up in in the countryside in County Monaghan quite near the village of Glaslough and within a couple of miles of the border with Northern Ireland.  Despite the shadow of The Troubles, I had quite a peaceful, rural childhood!

When and how did you get to the Czech Republic?
I came to the Czech Republic first in 1996. An Englishman, Bryn Haworth, had succeeded in securing some funding to establish an Irish Studies strand within the English Department, so I came to teach Irish Studies. Then when he left I carried on from there and ended up teaching lots of other things as well.

Do you have a writing spot in Prague (a café, literary bar etc)?
It would be nice to be hanging around artistic places doing artistic things but the reality is rather more banal. Like all my colleagues who work at Faculty, our financial situation necessitates other sources of income.  I teach at two private universities in Prague, I am also a parent of a school-age youngster, so I am lucky if I can even manage a coffee somewhere these days.  I can’t speak for creative writing, but I doubt if anything much of scholarly value can actually be produced in a literary bar in any case.

From your experience, is there anything the Czechs and Irish share (characteristic, behaviour, sense of humour etc)?
No, I do not think there is much specific or meaningfully shared territory between Czech and Irish identities; that said, I don’t hold with national stereotypes, they lead to hasty generalizations about people as groups that are rarely very truthful.  Mostly they are a cover for either wishful thinking or covert racism.

·         On University and future plans
Quite a few of our readers are slowly putting together their BA thesis together – what was yours on? 
Good question – it was a very long time ago! At the time I was doing a BA we could choose between writing two extended papers of around 25 pages, or one 50 page work. I know I chose to write two papers, and I know I wrote on work on Jacobean Tragedy. The other was obviously very dear to me as I have utterly forgotten what it was about.

What are your current research projects?
At the moment I have just completed a chapter on a theatre company called Suspect Culture for a book on British theatre companies.  I have also just completed revising a paper on Northern Irish dramatist, Stewart Parker, and his television plays. And the biggest thing on my horizon is a monograph on British Theatre Criticism from 1980-2012 for Palgrave.

Have you written any poems, drama or prose?
Unfortunately yes, but I was young at the time.

Do you ever experience a writer’s block? How do you tackle it?
Writer’s block can be a nice way to say a few different things, can’t it? It might mean ‘I’m too lazy’; it might mean ‘I don’t know what I want to say’; it might mean ‘I don’t want to do this really’ (perhaps connected with ‘I’m too lazy’, perhaps not). So one needs to know which it is in order to begin to tackle the problem. Personally, I find it difficult to jump in and out of a research project—usually I try to guard two mornings a week for writing and research which sounds like a luxury.  The reality is that it’s never enough if one knows one needs to crank out 5000 words of good work a month between classes and marking and prep.  However, if one were to wait for the perfect time to write, nothing would ever get done. So my policy nowadays to at least do something even if it is insufficient.  Better to get started than to be paralyzed at the starting line, set some targets and then let deadlines do their terrible work on your conscience.

And finally, where do you see yourself 5 years from now? What books would you like to have written by then?
Hard to predict, hopefully somewhat less frenetically busy.  The theatre criticism book will certainly be done.  After that who knows. Maybe I’ll just have writer’s block in a literary café for a bit.

- Prepared by Anna Hupcejová

Party

‘Unhappily my explanations of this sequence of personal development—Turn On Tune In Drop Out—were often misinterpreted to mean “Get stoned and abandon all constructive activity.”’   
- Timothy Leary

I.
Saul woke up that morning with a vague awareness of the party to come and wouldn’t feel roused in spirits, nor in the naughty bits, until much later when Theresa’s rsvp gloriously arrived: “Well, why not.” Theresa knew she was fine and fine ladies do not usually occasion places like this, that is to say, riddled with junkies and dominated by gigantic speakers on the onslaught to conquer your senses and lull your soul to trance.
It wasn’t Trance music though. What made him tick was D’n’B proper, i.e. 160-180 beats per minute. What captivated this particular group of friends was a fine Raggajungle tune occasioned by monstrous Dubstep drops. Starting in the late 80s the father of all these instrumental delicacies—Rave—with its rate of about 135 BPM swept Britain. All having been imported from the British Caribbean (Jamaica), Jungle then gained grounds and its fans— Junglists—would become the heroes of the now classic motion picture Human Traffic. By the late 90s the unifying term for all these reggae & dancehall & ragamuffin inspired genres and subgenres was coined—drum and bass. Here may be marked the starting point of its gradual descent from the ‘pirate radios’ into the fabulous garish world of mainstream entertainment.
   Crudely simplifying, asked who he was passing by the half-blind doorman, he answered that he was Saul.
“Silly name,” the doorman thought to himself, buzzed the door and let him in. He wasn’t a doorman per se but an old tenant that thought he was one and made a peculiar buzzing noise every time somebody would be just about to push the door; he relished the imaginary power he thus exercised. Placing himself into ancient times he imagined a society, which would collapse as soon as he’d miss one day of duty. The other tenants rather liked him. But Saul was already out on the street reassuring himself he didn’t forget to bring the skunk and all the smoker paraphernalia. He got on the bus just in time, leaned a bit against the cushion tablet and eased into some Benny Page.
Here he was standing in the sector of the parking lot adjacent to the club.
“Where are they,” Saul wondered and tried to tower over the growing crowd to spot the idiosyncrasies of his friends’ gait. Josh would be the fat one. Jenny had a beautiful vivacity of gesticulation. Mark would be the one smoking the cheap cigar and Hester would beam her heavily eye-lined gloom. The crowd was amassing; loud murmur humming like a sea of articulate bees, a laugh here and there shooting its way up and down like casino fountains.
   “Hey man, how’re you?” announced Mark just about to light a fat cheap ‘cubano’.
   “Hey dudes, I’ve just arrived. Been here long?” asked Saul letting his hand sink into his pocket, “Got the bottle?”
   “Got the guts?” smiled Jenny and flourished a bottle of Absinth.
   “Man,” began Josh with a long emphasis on the middle part of that address, “it’s a killer. You gotta try it.”
   “Dude, I wanna survive till Pixie’s on,” countered Saul and examined the bottle inquisitively.
   “Chug, chug, chug…” started Josh the chant.
   “Man,” Mark dropped in and resumed, “are we some bloody Americans? Czechs don’t need some stupid drinking chants or games, they just drink,” said he with a confident ease and laid his eyes on Saul.
   “You bastard,” said Saul smiling and so he chugged. His impressions rather resembled those of a Big Bang exploding. In the first few milliseconds there was some smooth pleasant titillation to the tongue but it soon expanded rapidly and degenerated into green terror. Every drop stung. It was as if Hulk would thrust his hunk arm down his throat. Progressing fluidly towards his stomach, it tore the tubes as it passed leaving a scorched wasteland. Upon finally reaching the stomach, the muscular green fairy grabbed it firmly and clenched it into a powerful maalstroom—

II.
   Shot, shot, shot, a spliff and some foosball. People, lots of people; talking, dancing, drinking, smoking—pounding beat of life—beers, fags, joints, blunts, bongs, pipes—pounding beat of life floating in the grassy air, in the vapid beer, in the plugged up urinal. Finally free, finally out of the shell.
   “Hey what’s your name?!” Saul shouted towards what seemed to be a nice blond.
   “M(/XX” answered she.
   “What?! I’m Saul.”
   “Mary. Wanna get out of here?”
   Saul’s smile broadened. He grabbed her hand and began leading her towards the exit with a flash of triumphant spark about him, but was met with resistance.
   “What are you doing?” said she, her mimicry confused, hand protesting.
   “The bar’s that way,” she yoked her hand out of Saul’s which started to sweat upon his realising the misunderstanding. She wanted to get beer, not to get out of here. Luckily, the queue wasn’t that long so the awkward stifling silence that hung between them like a steel lump and pressed upon their skulls with a claustrophobic intensity, was soon to be broken by them toasting hastily and darting their separate ways.
   “You wouldn’t believe what just happened to me,” began Saul panting.
   “Had some kind of a, ehm, faux pas with a girl again?” uttered Jenny who was used to Saul’s terrible amorous ventures and stretched her arm languidly in his direction. Saul accepted the J, toked deeply and as he was exhaling he sighed:
   “Yeah, nevermind.” Hester wasn’t there were no signs of Theresa, Josh was ordering beers, and Jenny turned back to Mark with whom she has, once again, been engaged in an argument:
   “But how can you say you wouldn’t legalise it? Isn’t that the goal of those marches we all so eagerly go to? And isn’t that what we all want? What the Nature wants?” insisted Jenny.
   “Yeah, we go to the marches to get high [posh cough] en masse; the communal spirit, good vibes. That’s about it though. And I don’t care about the nature—in this case—I care about us,” reacted Mark and sipped the beer Josh had brought. Josh looked sad.
   “From the viewpoint of an average smoker, that is us,” specified Mark, “the current almost decriminalised state is nearly ideal. You can smoke it, you can carry a decent bulk, you can grow a couple and once we get pass the arrests of poor ol’ grandma’s with their little gardens, I think we’ll be golden,” closed Mark and after receiving a shot from Jenny coughed a bit but composed his face back again by lighting a new cigar.
   “Exactly: a decent bulk! If caught with more than 15g’s you’re screwed. Considering that a usual plant yields about 50?... 100 grams or more, how’s that golden?” countered Jenny and resumed, “And once it’s legalised, it will be in the hands of the government to control the distribution, which means not selling it to minors, there’s gonna be a certainty of quality, dealers are gonna get pushed away from the market, the country will profit… everybody wins,” said Jenny slowing down and putting an emphasis on the every-body.
   “Government distribution means taxation, my dear ex,” returned Mark smiling as if more rejoiced about the latter than the former and continued. Jenny writhed.
   “Not only is it gonna be more expensive, the ‘quality’ you’re so hyped-up about will drop due to the mass production. Just imagine and compare the states now and what could be. Now, with at least some connections, you can get it from an individual grower who pampers it to get the stickiest of icky. If legalised, corporations take over and focus on growing as cheaply as possible and selling as high as possible. Moreover, it would lose the ‘forbidden fruit’ feeling, air, cache, what have you,” (Jenny here tongue-in-cheek confirmed the she actually did feel had by the last one). “The kids would find another drug that is illegal and therefore cool. This one, that only makes you happy & hungry, is a relatively healthy way to piss off your parents.”
   “Dude, have you seen Mohamed lately?” dropped in Saul, rising in tone to suggest a challenge.
   “Oh yeah, you seen that guy?” joined Josh and resumed, “dude doesn’t care about nothing but getting high. It’s a normal state for him, and how paranoid he gets, Jesus. And his girlfriend said he’s shit in the sack unless having his smoke on.”
   “Well sure, but that’s an extreme case,” Mark defended himself. “And you can’t blame that on weed, really, these dudes would sooner or later sink into doing something, anything, whether booze, machines, Molly... I guess what I’m trying to say is that the joint doesn’t roll itself, it’s always the man who does the rolling,” said Mark putting a dark emphasis on the last statement and leaving a semi-dramatic pause.
   “Poor little drugs are the victims in all of this,” deduced Jenny mockingly and went on as if addressing an elementary school class: “Kids? Don’t do people, people are bad, m’kay?” Everybody laughed.

III.
   Hester showed up with unusually coloured cheeks and rare life about her. She gazed at them, one by one, seeming to make certain calculations.
   “Shouldn’t we get on with it?” she finally breathed out. They understood. They chugged their drinks and stepped forward in the direction of the stage thus emerging from a green thick fog. Usually quiet and slumped within, now proud and composed Hester led the party.
   With perfect timing as in an imperfect movie, their favourite DJ just assumed the stage. The art of getting to the front of the throng and as close to the stage as possible is a tricky one and it requires great craft and cruel indifference. But getting there through all the stratagems and cunning slides into impossibly narrow crevices is just one battle. The war over holding the spot is something quite different. Though this was a small club so it wasn’t that challenging; take a 50000+ concert or a festival and you end up, my gorgeous reader, with a proper challenge. Here you were able to hold your spot easily for a couple of hours provided you had the stamina and that you hadn’t been screwed over by your dealer into taking sleeping pills instead of an E. In a proper concert mosh pit, one is being constantly swayed as in a tempestuous sea. One moment you are rocking out to some fine tune on your precious little spot, heroically won, and then in the next you suddenly find yourself 20 meters away involuntarily dry humping the gentle reader in front of you. You fall, you get dirty, and punched and kicked—a good soul sometimes appears and lifts you up again (which always feels awfully nice and bonding)—and from time to time you get buried under a pile of bodies. If the tune is right, it’s worth it. Crowd surfing is a chapter for itself, a full account of which, with all its ethical intricacies, is above the scope of this puny paper.
   I move yo body di jump s’don’t do it...“He’s playing it! Reload! Jesus yes!” cried Josh. Nobody heard him but they all understood his rapturous face. And they felt the same—this was the bomb that has been gracing their Winamps and BSP Players. And here was the man himself a few feet away spinning the living soul out of the record. He loved it, they loved it. There was a sense of euphoria bursting from both the sides exchanging energy. Earlier cultures had used drugs and music as the means to connect with their gods or to perform ritual festivities. Here, in the quasi-underground club culture of Prague, music and drugs themselves were the gods: Pixie was Odin and Weed was Athena; Aphrodite was Bacchus, Dj Katcha became Venus; Shrooms were the nymphs, Ecstasy Hathor, and LSD Vishnu in the supreme form of Vishvarupa. Manifold trumpets crying out at the pace of a speed-freak rapping the coked-up language of the tune that unites crossed fellows, emboldens timid souls and breaks open the mind. They loomed tall and large. Dark mechanical undertones of an army of gigantic creatures powered by electronic hearts glow crimson, pierced with rusty cables and galvanic sparks. Sad burning eyes they march robustly forth thus shake the Earth. Monstrous leviathans that echo straight out of Hades’ fathomless chambers; the dark lord himself tapping gently his black long bloody nails against the throne of slaughtered skin in the rhythm of Netsky’s Take it Easy. Jah! Emperor Selassie I, King of kings, Lord of lords, the Lion Prince of Judah, Jah!
   In the end, Theresa didn’t come and everybody vomited. ‘Twas a night well spent.

- Jaromír Lelek

Erasmus experience

Spain is an amazing country. Even though this is not my first visit to Spain (nor the second one), I still feel fascinated by the parched rocky landscape lashed by wind.  I found myself living in a country where seniors walk in parks listening to the radio playing in their pocket and where people eat bread (or rather, as they call it: “baguette”) with every meal (even if the meal contains pasta, rice, or potatoes). Though living in the second coldest city in Spain (by the way, I´m wondering which one is the first) is sometimes harsh, but I am very happy that I can be here.
My Erasmus experience started many months before by filling in the application form. During the entire administrative process I was really looking forward to spending half a year living and studying in a foreign country. However, when the date of departure was just several days away, I started to experience fear too. What will it be like? Who will my flatmates be? What will the courses be like? And many other questions preoccupied my mind. However, when the plane landed in Spain I started to enjoy my stay.

I realized (despite my expectations) that many of the stereotypes and myths about the Spanish people are true. Before going to Spain you should learn at least three basic Spanish words: “mañana” (tomorrow), “fiesta” (party), and “siesta”. The one that says that the Spanish do everything “mañana” (tomorrow) means that when you apply, for example, for a library card in the municipal library and they tell you that you can collect it “mañana”, you should understand that the card will not be there sooner than in a few weeks. Otherwise you will keep going to the library every day and asking for the card and they will keep telling you that it will be there tomorrow.

Another very popular – even among people who don’t speak Spanish – word is “fiesta”. The stereotype that many Spanish think that life is an endless fiesta is also true. Moreover, during the most productive hours (generally 2pm – 5pm) in Prague you can buy anything, go to bank, post office,... but here it is “siesta” (understand that almost everything is closed). To my Spanish friends it seems totally natural – they say that the people working in the shops, banks, offices also want to have their lunch. To me however, it seems that 3 hours for a lunch is a pretty long time.

Spain is also a country where almost nobody speaks English well enough to be able to communicate in it – I don´t mind that; I am here to improve my Spanish, but when ordering anything with an English name in restaurants (e.g. muffin, chicken wrap) one has to resist the tendency to pronounce the name “correctly” (in English). If you want to be understood and get what you ordered you have to pronounce it in the Spanish way, which often makes English words sound so strange that no British or American person (with no previous knowledge of Spanish) would ever understand them.

As far as the language is concerned, for me studying in Spain does not mean only a simple fact that the lectures and seminars are in Spanish, but also a change of working languages. Translating from Spanish to English and vice versa helps me to find new connections between the two languages and to perceive better the similarities as well as the differences.

Erasmus is really an international experience. There are many foreigners at the university (the majority of them are French, Italians, or Belgians) and I find myself practising even languages that I don´t speak. Now, after more than two months that I have spent here, I would recommend Erasmus (or any other possibility to study for some time abroad) to anyone. I think it can enrich you and you can benefit from the experience a lot!

- Veronika Sochorová

Tempting Shakespeare

The theatre ensemble of current and former students gathered to present one of Shakespeare´s dramas, The Tempest. Charles University Workshop Production led by John Martlew managed to rehearse the play within only one month so that people could see it before Christmas. There were four performances of The Tempest: 24th, 26th, 27th November and 3rd December, they all were staged at the theatre Na Prádle in Malá Strana.

The actors-amateurs should be praised not only for the fact that they had such a short time to practice and that the play is very long, but also because they turned out to be some truly talented young people. There is no doubt that it has to be difficult to pretend to be constantly drunk during the play or to jump up and down like a monkey all the time or even to look decades older that one actually is. The set was laid out in a strictly Elizabethan way using very little props, which helped to draw the spectator’s attention to the beauty of innocent Miranda and talented bare-chested Ferdinand.

The keen spectators could study a short glossary which they received together with the programme as a freebie. The even keener ones, who read the programme till the very end, might have wondered about the special thanks dedicated to the Czech-Japanese Association. As the play proceeded a little bit, the strange yet humorous choice of an Asian wardrobe was striking. The absurdity of that was supported by the Italian names Shakespeare gave to the characters. In order to make the play unusual, John Martlew took some of his imagination from the time he has spent in Japan and used it here. Apparently, the costume designers have chosen the kimonos quite well as they worked well with the performance of the gifted students which surpassed the expectations of many spectators.

-          Magdalena Schlindenbuchová

Questions for John Martlew

When leaving the theatre after seeing “The Tempest”, I thought how marvellous it would be to interview the man behind the production. I was lucky to find myself at the Plato restaurant, conversing with John Martlew only days after arranging the interview through the phone, not by email. Though I had a line of questions prepared, it developed spontaneously in an hour-long conversation.

Miscellaneous

Firstly, what is your connection to Charles University?
I taught here from 1992-1999 and that is when I started doing the plays. I think it was in 1997 I just decided I’d like to do a drama workshop. Eventually students from the Philosophy and Law faculties were brought in and the general philosophy is that the actors must be students and non-native speakers. The purpose was to get students to do Shakespeare also outside the classroom... and yes, that’s how it all started. I always come in Autumn for a Thanksgiving party and then got 5-6 weeks to produce it and I come in again during Easter, so we produce about 2 plays per year.

When did your relationship with Shakespeare start?
At university, where I directed “Measure for Measure”. I always had a passion for Shakespeare. I studied English literature and Greek and Latin. English universities are different than here, because there are so many societies that also have funding. I always preferred directing than acting.

Did you ever act?
Yes, of course. For example I played Ferdinand once. But I still prefer to direct than to perform.

Why so?
I always make a distinction between actors and performers. A performer is always himself during acting while the actor loses himself. Lisa Minnelli, for example, is a performer – she’s always herself, doing something. I always find it hard to lose myself – so that’s one reason. Also I suppose directing is like conducting, the way one puts everything together. It is always a matter of interaction with the people, seeing what you can get out of them and this is what interests me.. However, I don’t meticulously plan a production before I starts; “The Tempest” was one of those.

About “The Tempest“

Do you like the play itself?
I am not actually that fond of “The Tempest”. I prefer “Measure for Measure”, it was very rewarding and so was “Twelfth Night”.

Why are you not fond of “The Tempest”?
Because to me, the characters are shallow, they are impersonal! Prospero is vicious, yet he is still a victim. What I can’t see in the play is a general theme, a moral – it moves towards forgiveness, but you don’t feel it to be the main idea. Neither is Revenge strong enough to be the main theme. There are hundreds of interpretations that see Prospero as God, but you cannot push any of these theories forward. There was even a production that saw him as a myth of colonisation, a superior spirit, but you can’t work out a consistent idea. This happens often in other Shakesperian plays and characters – even the villains suddenly have moments when they have another side! Caliban in a single moment turns from a negative character to gaining sympathy and being believable. The human condition is superior.. That is what makes it interesting, there are always 1, 2 lines that change everything. Romeo says: “O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright” and after that he is completely lost and eventually dies.  

Where did you rehearse?
In my flat! There is a big room and during the weekends we rehearsed at the Faculty. During the week it is virtually impossible to find a free room.

Which was the most difficult part of producing “The Tempest”?
The lighting, timing for rehearsals, sound... And moving it from my flat where we rehearsed into the theatre.

There were evident influences of Japanese theatre in “The Tempest”. Why so?
I worked in Japan for first 2, then 3 years - I taught at a university there.

About Prospero, I noticed that while in the original text he is portrayed to carry his staff around the stage, in the play he throws it away at the very beginning!
Yes, the props get onto the stage, but also must go off the stage! Generally the audience notices the big things, not the small things.

Have you seen any theatre adaptations of it before?
No, I have only seen one production. I don’t see theatre much, for I am abroad a lot. In England you have to be near London to see productions and I’m not. And I’m quite fussy I suppose – if I’m not happy with the production, I leave during the interval.

Do you consider yourself to be critical?
Where Shakespeare is concerned, yes.

Are you self-critical?
I have to be. Sometimes the actors cannot do what you want them to do and you have to accept that – but I try to bring out of them what I want.

Did that happen during “The Tempest”?
No, actually. That was the first time that did not happen. Mikuláš Mařík, for example, who played Caliban, whenever I was to tell him what I want from him, he was already doing it. It is quite noticeable that the “old” people have a consistency of performance. From experience, I know that if the body is somehow connected to the text, you know they can act.

Like a connection?
Yes, a connection. You can read the text beautifully, but if the body is not somehow involved, the performance is generally not so good.

Was there someone who surprised you at “The Tempest”?
Stefano (played by Milan Růžička, ed. note) was a massive surprise. Playing drunk is very difficult; you over-play, waving your arms, stumbling... But I did not expect that kind of performance to come out of him! He read very well at the casting, but the quality of his performance amazed me. You can never tell this, how very good they are going to be, all you know is that it won’t be dreadful.

Are you content with “The Tempest”?
Yes, especially having the shortage of time in mind. Generally it was the way I wanted it to be, I suppose it was okay.

“Okay”?
[Laughs] I don’t see it, it was just okay. I try not to interfere during the plays, like during the pause walk up and say “It’s so very slow today, liven it up a bit”. And sometimes it happens that the audience is not responding as you expect... I have given negative feedback once or twice when the people did not take it seriously, but otherwise I am amazed at how well the actors generally are, especially in this production.

On the Charles University Workshop Production and its future

Do you consider there to be a difference between English and Czech students?
Czech students still read books! But then, I never taught English students. I can say however that I find my experience here very enriching; the interest, the way they enlighten me with their knowledge, enlighten me with their youth. I am an old man, you see and I am amazed when they treat me like one of them.

Do you have a favourite production?
The ones that become favourites are the ones that do what you wanted them to do. The “Twelfth Night” did exactly that. The “Merry Wives of Windsor” was very successful with the audience though it wasn’t my favourite. I was pleased with “Measure for Measure” and especially pleased with “The Winter’s Tale”. The people in it wanted to be in it and also because of this it had a level and so I consider it to be the best.

What play are you planning on producing next?
No idea really. But when choosing a play, I keep three things in mind. Firstly, I have to like the play myself. Then, I have to have the cast, the people to do it. I have to be able to imagine them in the play. And thirdly, the play has to be accessible to the audience – it should not be full of words.

How does the casting work?
I do it personally. We do have a website, but I prefer to keep it within the university. We perhaps miss people, good actors, but we have to restrict ourselves. It happened though that I have lost contacts to two great actors who I have never found since... It is basically a matter of personal connection. I usually go speak to the first years, mainly in the Translatology department, especially because the head is very supportive of the project.

What about the Anglophone department?
We get a few people from there as well – a few, because again, there are very little men. Shy or not interested... Many good actors are shy, not the show-off types. Interestingly, there have been great actors from the Translatology department. However, we never had anyone from the Faculty of Education! The main problem is finding men, male actors in the English department; there are many women. We always had more men interested in acting women, maybe because women know that there are 4 female parts in Shakespeare? But no, I always try to recruit actors from especially the first years.

Isn’t it easier to work with male actors?
No, I don’t find it so! Men can be equally hot-blooded, as well as more sensitive. I don’t find a difference really, but there are more men coming to audition. Perhaps the girls are more shy... In England, I think, there would be more women interested in acting than men, but that is just my personal speculation.

It’s been 20 years since the first production of the Charles University Workshop. Given Prospero’s final line, ‘farewell to the stage’, does it in your view have a connection to the Workshop’s continuance?
I did not think of that. But I do hope that the production will go forward. If I stopped, I think I would be the one who could carry it on, for he has the support of the faculty. One does not know! But the main thing is trying to get new people in it, for doing it is what is important. So okay, one wants the production to be as good as it can, but the actors and audience are important factors, together with the ones I have listed before.

Final questions on Shakespeare and drama

Do you produce also plays other than Shakespeare’s? If not, whose and what work would you choose?
The main reason why we do Shakespeare is because of the connection to the Faculty. I did co-produce Wilde’s Importance of Being Earnest, but that was just an attempt to get people to produce something themselves. If I were here all the time I would do some modern plays.

Have you read any Czech drama?
Some, like Čapek, but a long time ago. There is really no point in doing a Czech play in English in Prague, same goes with doing a Greek play in English in Prague.

In the Literature on the British Isles seminar we studied “Merchant of Venice”. Any chance of you producing that?
No – for we haven’t got a Shylock! There was this one man who was in “Measure for Measure” and another play, but left soon. He might have been the role, but I don’t see anyone at the moment. Plus, it is a difficult play to stage, with the caskets, the frequent change of setting...

If you could ask Shakespeare a question, what would it be?
“Where did you come from? How did you manage to do it? How did it happen?” He has this incredible insight.

- Prepared by Anna Hupcejová