I am too lazy to find pictures of all these pieces, but these are the names of works from the national gallery at Veletrizny palac. This was certainly one of my top 3 museums visited this semester. There was a huge variety of art styles represented in their collections, the building design was conducive to smooth exhibit flow, and even the special exhibit in the entrance (Propaganda posters from Vietnam) left me with a lot to think about.
Anyway, these are the names of the works that I was most struck by. I have pictures of most of them on my Picasa page:
"Spoons" by Tomas Medek
"All Souls Day" by Jakub Schikaneder
"Birch Trees" by Alois Kalvada
"Pilgrim" by Arnost Hofbauer
"I <3 Russian Modernism" by Petr Pisarik
"Village Green" by Karl Schmidt-Rottluff
Slavicek's impressionism
Also worth mentioning, if you're taking the time to look up these artists, were some of the contributors to the show at Bubec's gallery:
Lucie Linhova
Katerina Stenclova
Eliska Jiratova
Suddenly there were two days left until we were supposed to be going home. I took a long walk on my own through a park and the world expo building grounds. I went to the first few minutes of the NYU final club night, thinking I was going to get good food since they spent $2000 to have it catered at a club. What a waste! Where in past years that money has gone towards a nice dinner catered for students and staff so we could visit with our friends and professors in a quiet enviorment one last time before leaving, this year it was spent on an inadequate amount of food at a night club. The professors didn't come and I didn't blame them. After about 10 minutes, I went back to my apartment to write the last of my final papers. Yes, I am that lame.
One of my classes arranged independantly to get coffee with our professor, and I'm glad we had that opportunity to speak with her outside of class this one last time. I learned that NYU doesn't treat their abroad professors well. Since they are wage workers rather than contracted staff, they are not eligable for health benefits, tenure, or (the expats among them) the green card that allows them to start applying for Czech citizenship. And somehow NYU still insists that they turn in their research so that the school can put its stamp on it. Absolutely absurd.
Also absurd? I pulled an all-nighter so that in the morning of the last day Sam and I could watch the sunrise from Charles Bridge. It was snowing so there was no sun to rise.
That snow turned our journey home into quite an epic adventure. Our first flight got cancelled. Then our second flight. We spent a night in the airport hotel, and then our third flight got cancelled. They put us on a fourth, switched airlines (which meant different luggage restrictions so we shuffled bags a bit), flew us to Germany, and informed us as we landed that Frankfurt was closed. We were given a group ticket and told that we should skip check-in so that we wouldn't miss our next flight. We went through security, had a little trouble at border control because our visas were expired (which, according to Czech law, should not have been an issue...the guard obviously didn't know what he was talking about), had to sprint to the gate to catch our next plane... We just made it in time but weren't allowed to board because they had given our seats away when we didn't check in. We asked for help and were sent in circles...three times, four times...until we were finally put on a plane bound for Newark. So we texted our parents that we would be arriving at a different airport than planned a full day later than planned, and eight hours later we were home.
Monday, December 27, 2010
"Salty soup, chef in love" -proverb
My last three weeks in Prague are a blur. I ran around trying to finish exams, spend time with friends, see the last museums on my list, and pick up Christmas presents for my family.
I loved the Museum of Decorative Arts. The first gallery I saw had part 2 of the Decadence Now exhibit displayed. It still isn't my style, but I have to say that the Erwin Olaf "Fashion Victims" photography series caught my attention. I like the concept. My own contribution? Consider it a piece of performance art: at the suggestion of a friend, I visited the restroom on the same floor for the sole purpose of looking out the window and into the Jewish cemetery from that unusual angle. One of the reasons I decided to go to the museum in the first place.
The serious collection was farther upstairs. There were metal candlesticks shaped like sea-horses (not seahorses), a 4-season themed beaded centerpiece for a table, squares of delicate lace, wedding dresses from different periods in Czech history, sundial rings, pocket sundials with string instead of needles to create the shadow, and even a sundial shaped like a cup. There were all kinds of clocks, beautiful pieces of jewelery, photographs, vases, and old books that I longed to leaf through. This was certainly my kind of museum. Of course, I left really wanting to take a glass-blowing class.
My literature class took a field trip to the sculpture studio of artist Cestmir Suska. The journey into the suburbs to visit him was very snowy and cold, but the trip was well worth-while. Suska told us about his background, his different works, and his artist's cooperative--Bubec--which hosts "art safaris" in the ex-airplane-hanger that is now their shared studio space. He was very thoughtful and earnest, the kind of person I could easily listen to for hours. Because so many of his pieces were out for us to walk through, the changes in his style as he experimented with different media and concepts were easy to see. It felt like walking a timeline of his work, with him there to footnote and highlight as he saw fit. Personally, I fell in love with the rusty flower pieces. Maybe it's because they have flowers or patterns or math. Maybe it's because I want to learn about welding as much as I want to learn about glass-blowing.
All things in time, I suppose.
Another event that necessitated a snowy journey was the end-of-semester concert that the music students put together. I love when any of the art students showcase their works at the end of the semester, and since I had friends in this concert it was especially fun to hear their works. Unfortunately, the concert was very long and by the time we got out the snow had rendered the trams completely useless. This was the first and last time I took a taxi in Prague...but there was no other way to get home!
I went to an exhibit called PLAY at Manes Gallery on the river. It was supposed to be a school event, but it ended up being just me and Eva, one of the RAs. It was fun though. All of the pieces in the exhibit were interactive. We built with blocks, made noises with toilet plungers, played music with lights and shadows, and spun kalidescopes that looked out on the river. On the lower level there was a work about the 12 senses that Rudolf Steiner designed the Waldorf Education program around. I still have to translate the pamphlet from Czech into English, but a woman at the gallery explained each of the senses and the corresponding activities for me as I walked through. Overall I really enjoyed the exhibit and found it to be a welcome break from paper-writing.
That same day, I went in the evening to an event hosted by Firefly. The event was run by the woman who built the company and she explained how branding works, how she ended up in Prague, and what the process of a creative design team can involve. She had a few really cool exhibits where she took styles, materials, or objects from one of the countries that she has worked in and challenged artists from another of the countries to design a series of works with that theme in mind. For example, the windows were lined with glassworks by a Czech artist who designed a sake set for her. Very cool way to think.
In the rush to visit the last museums on my list before the end of this adventure, I found myself in Dox modern art gallery. I'd walked by the building numerous times during the semester because it's on the same block as one of the NYU dorms. However, it took looking up and catching sight of the giant skull currently on the roof to lure me inside. Overall, not my kind of gallery. There was a piece about the perils of the state education system that I found amusing because it seemed to be a visual representation of all the research I had been reading for one of my final papers. Two other exhibits that I found interesting were an outdoor-ish graffiti installation and an exploration of soviet-era depictions of space-travel/a sci-fi future.
Of course, I then went almost immediately after to the Mucha museum where Sam and I looked at pretty art nouveau posters, I searched for the flower design that I want a tatoo of (don't worry, I didn't find one), and I learned that Mucha did a series of HUGE oil paintings (not in his namesake style) called the Slav Epic. Totally different art, but very very cool.
So much going on! For the start of the holidays, my friends got together and made vegan Jewish food. Yay for applesauce and latkes! We also learned about St. Mikulas day. What my family has always celebrated as the feast of Saint Nicholas (for which one leaves shoes outside the bedroom door so that the saint can fill them with chocolate coins--geld--by morning) is a pretty big deal in the Czech Republic. People everywhere dress up as Saint Mikulas, an angel, or a devil. The trio walks around together, especially in Old Town Square at night. Children who want presents on Christmas have to approach Saint Mikulas and either sing a song or recite a poem. He then asks their parents whether the children have been good. If the parents say 'yes', the angel gives the child fruit or chocolate. These children get gifts on Christmas. If the parents say 'no', the devil wipes ash on the child's cheeks, rattles a chain perhaps and gives the child coal or potatoes. This is where things get a little strange: the Czechs say that on Christmas the devil will come with his sack, put the bad children in it and bring them back to hell with him. Yikes!
Of course, those who are of age can also celebrate the holiday with special "devil's beer" offered around the city. I think it's sweetened with wine; it's a bright red color and very good.
Personally, I spent Saint Mikulas day on a field trip. One of our wonderful RAs took a group on a trip to the suburb that he and his family are from. We walked through the panelak rows, through an Ikea, through a pet store that sold monkeys, and through a snowy park. Then we went back to Prague and talked in a teahouse for a while.
On December 8th, less than 10 days before our intended departure, my architecture class took a different kind of field trip. We visited the studio of CMC Architects. These are the people who revitalized the holesovice industrial district, which is where DOX and a few other very artsy buildings are now located. The architect who spoke to us showed us a slideshow of planned projects--none of which had been realized yet. Apparently, many of the company's urban designs got veto'd because the city insists there is "no space for experiments in Prague." Only two of the designs we saw had been actually built, and these were private projects commissioned for wealthy clients outside the historic part of the city. I hadn't realized that so much of the field of architecture is designing projects for proposals and competitions, knowing that most of the projects won't ever be built. This is a trend I've noticed in this class through the semester, and it makes me glad I decided not to become an architect afterall.
The next day, my IR professor gave us a list of films that he personally suggests for those craving a taste of Central European culture. Here's his list:
Skylarks on Strings by Menzel
Ucho by Kachyna
Katyn
Man of Marble
Man of Steel
It's better to be rich and healthy than poor and ill
Good Bye Lenin
Lives of Others
Kolya
Pouta
Since I'm on a link-posting spree, I might as well include this one. It's for the successful dessert that I brought to our last dorm potluck: Lamingtons
I loved the Museum of Decorative Arts. The first gallery I saw had part 2 of the Decadence Now exhibit displayed. It still isn't my style, but I have to say that the Erwin Olaf "Fashion Victims" photography series caught my attention. I like the concept. My own contribution? Consider it a piece of performance art: at the suggestion of a friend, I visited the restroom on the same floor for the sole purpose of looking out the window and into the Jewish cemetery from that unusual angle. One of the reasons I decided to go to the museum in the first place.
The serious collection was farther upstairs. There were metal candlesticks shaped like sea-horses (not seahorses), a 4-season themed beaded centerpiece for a table, squares of delicate lace, wedding dresses from different periods in Czech history, sundial rings, pocket sundials with string instead of needles to create the shadow, and even a sundial shaped like a cup. There were all kinds of clocks, beautiful pieces of jewelery, photographs, vases, and old books that I longed to leaf through. This was certainly my kind of museum. Of course, I left really wanting to take a glass-blowing class.
My literature class took a field trip to the sculpture studio of artist Cestmir Suska. The journey into the suburbs to visit him was very snowy and cold, but the trip was well worth-while. Suska told us about his background, his different works, and his artist's cooperative--Bubec--which hosts "art safaris" in the ex-airplane-hanger that is now their shared studio space. He was very thoughtful and earnest, the kind of person I could easily listen to for hours. Because so many of his pieces were out for us to walk through, the changes in his style as he experimented with different media and concepts were easy to see. It felt like walking a timeline of his work, with him there to footnote and highlight as he saw fit. Personally, I fell in love with the rusty flower pieces. Maybe it's because they have flowers or patterns or math. Maybe it's because I want to learn about welding as much as I want to learn about glass-blowing.
All things in time, I suppose.
Another event that necessitated a snowy journey was the end-of-semester concert that the music students put together. I love when any of the art students showcase their works at the end of the semester, and since I had friends in this concert it was especially fun to hear their works. Unfortunately, the concert was very long and by the time we got out the snow had rendered the trams completely useless. This was the first and last time I took a taxi in Prague...but there was no other way to get home!
I went to an exhibit called PLAY at Manes Gallery on the river. It was supposed to be a school event, but it ended up being just me and Eva, one of the RAs. It was fun though. All of the pieces in the exhibit were interactive. We built with blocks, made noises with toilet plungers, played music with lights and shadows, and spun kalidescopes that looked out on the river. On the lower level there was a work about the 12 senses that Rudolf Steiner designed the Waldorf Education program around. I still have to translate the pamphlet from Czech into English, but a woman at the gallery explained each of the senses and the corresponding activities for me as I walked through. Overall I really enjoyed the exhibit and found it to be a welcome break from paper-writing.
That same day, I went in the evening to an event hosted by Firefly. The event was run by the woman who built the company and she explained how branding works, how she ended up in Prague, and what the process of a creative design team can involve. She had a few really cool exhibits where she took styles, materials, or objects from one of the countries that she has worked in and challenged artists from another of the countries to design a series of works with that theme in mind. For example, the windows were lined with glassworks by a Czech artist who designed a sake set for her. Very cool way to think.
In the rush to visit the last museums on my list before the end of this adventure, I found myself in Dox modern art gallery. I'd walked by the building numerous times during the semester because it's on the same block as one of the NYU dorms. However, it took looking up and catching sight of the giant skull currently on the roof to lure me inside. Overall, not my kind of gallery. There was a piece about the perils of the state education system that I found amusing because it seemed to be a visual representation of all the research I had been reading for one of my final papers. Two other exhibits that I found interesting were an outdoor-ish graffiti installation and an exploration of soviet-era depictions of space-travel/a sci-fi future.
Of course, I then went almost immediately after to the Mucha museum where Sam and I looked at pretty art nouveau posters, I searched for the flower design that I want a tatoo of (don't worry, I didn't find one), and I learned that Mucha did a series of HUGE oil paintings (not in his namesake style) called the Slav Epic. Totally different art, but very very cool.
So much going on! For the start of the holidays, my friends got together and made vegan Jewish food. Yay for applesauce and latkes! We also learned about St. Mikulas day. What my family has always celebrated as the feast of Saint Nicholas (for which one leaves shoes outside the bedroom door so that the saint can fill them with chocolate coins--geld--by morning) is a pretty big deal in the Czech Republic. People everywhere dress up as Saint Mikulas, an angel, or a devil. The trio walks around together, especially in Old Town Square at night. Children who want presents on Christmas have to approach Saint Mikulas and either sing a song or recite a poem. He then asks their parents whether the children have been good. If the parents say 'yes', the angel gives the child fruit or chocolate. These children get gifts on Christmas. If the parents say 'no', the devil wipes ash on the child's cheeks, rattles a chain perhaps and gives the child coal or potatoes. This is where things get a little strange: the Czechs say that on Christmas the devil will come with his sack, put the bad children in it and bring them back to hell with him. Yikes!
Of course, those who are of age can also celebrate the holiday with special "devil's beer" offered around the city. I think it's sweetened with wine; it's a bright red color and very good.
Personally, I spent Saint Mikulas day on a field trip. One of our wonderful RAs took a group on a trip to the suburb that he and his family are from. We walked through the panelak rows, through an Ikea, through a pet store that sold monkeys, and through a snowy park. Then we went back to Prague and talked in a teahouse for a while.
On December 8th, less than 10 days before our intended departure, my architecture class took a different kind of field trip. We visited the studio of CMC Architects. These are the people who revitalized the holesovice industrial district, which is where DOX and a few other very artsy buildings are now located. The architect who spoke to us showed us a slideshow of planned projects--none of which had been realized yet. Apparently, many of the company's urban designs got veto'd because the city insists there is "no space for experiments in Prague." Only two of the designs we saw had been actually built, and these were private projects commissioned for wealthy clients outside the historic part of the city. I hadn't realized that so much of the field of architecture is designing projects for proposals and competitions, knowing that most of the projects won't ever be built. This is a trend I've noticed in this class through the semester, and it makes me glad I decided not to become an architect afterall.
The next day, my IR professor gave us a list of films that he personally suggests for those craving a taste of Central European culture. Here's his list:
Skylarks on Strings by Menzel
Ucho by Kachyna
Katyn
Man of Marble
Man of Steel
It's better to be rich and healthy than poor and ill
Good Bye Lenin
Lives of Others
Kolya
Pouta
Since I'm on a link-posting spree, I might as well include this one. It's for the successful dessert that I brought to our last dorm potluck: Lamingtons
Sunday, December 26, 2010
11/20 - 11/28 Welcome to my(?) city!
Picked Cass up from the airport and started a crazy week. We cooked together and with friends. We went to Palac Akropolis for a Reggae dj night and to Roxy for a free Monday rock/ska/techno night. He came to my classes all through the week, and now understands why I love my professors here. We ate Czech food at a place near my dorm that I frequented but still don't know the name of. We went to the Vysehrad and to the Osadni dorm. My architecture professor invited the class to his book release party at the Cubist Cafe, so we attended that. We ate at a few veg places, a super-secret vegan place, and a Middle Eastern place. The fabulous piano prodigy Michelle Lee had a concert through NYU so we went to that one night and met friends at a hookah bar after.
Then it was Wednesday and my family was arriving. They were too tired to walk around much so we went to a hockey game--something you should definitely do while in Prague--and then had an Italian dinner in Old Town before calling it a night. Cass and I had wanted to climb the metronome but it had mysteriously gone dark and still. Creepy! So we decided to wait. I think they enjoyed walking around over the next few days. I hadn't realized how much I had picked up from my architecture class. I also hadn't realized how much walking I do every day. They were pretty good sports though. My dad was really struck by the monument to the victims of the soviet occupation in minor town. We passed it en route to Petrin Tower, from which we saw Prague's spires all silhouetted and dotted with lights. It's such a beautiful view on cold crisp nights.
I wrote about Thanksgiving on my class blog, which I'll be linking to as soon as I copy it all over. Somehow we managed to keep our main traditions: 1. Having Godmother Sharon with us and 2. Eating at a restaurant. Pretty amazing.
The metronome still wasn't lit when Cass and I were heading back, but we decided to climb it anyway. What a view!
That next day, Friday, we spent the entire day in the castle. We crossed Charles Bridge and then took a tram up. We ate lunch at Strahov brewery before admiring the monastery library across the square. We also explored the cathedral, the old palace, and the Romanesque Basilica. We had dinner reservations for 6.30 and it was pretty cold out by the time we finished all the architecture-focused stuff at 4, so we took refuge in the Lobkowicz Museum. Which I had wanted to see anyway. There the family showcases the enormous collection of portraits, weapons, manuscripts, instruments, and other treasures that they had owned, lost to the Nazis, got back, lost to the Soviets, and finally have retrieved again. It's only one of their properties, but it's a beautiful building and a very well put together museum.
After dinner, I even convinced my dad that he, Godmother Sharon, and Emily (since they were the not-quite-sleepy ones) should come to Pivovarsky Klub to meet up with some of my friends. It was so much fun!
Friday was our off-beat day. We took a morning trip to the "baby tower," aka the Žižkov television tower, to get a different view of the city. We then took the metro to Minor Town and went inside St. Nicolas' cathedral, which was gorgeous and very baroque. We split up for a bit after that. My family went to the Carmelite church that houses the Infant of Prague since we had seen a replica at the Lobkowicz museum. They tried to get into Cafe Savoy for lunch. Cass and I went to an Afghan restaurant in Old Town before returning to Minor Town to hang our lovers lock, admire the Lennon wall and pose with Černý's baby sculptures. We were all supposed to meet back in Old Town Square for the opening of the Christmas Market there. I hadn't realized when planning this that the opening of the market included a tree lighting comprable to the lighting of the Rockefeller tree. I've never been caught in a mob before, but that's what this turned into. My dad texted that they were ok and near the edge of the crowd, but I'm pretty sure Cass is the only reason I got out without breaking any bones. It was the scariest thing I've ever experienced.
The tree was lovely when the crowd finally cleared. We found my family and went to the much smaller and calmer market at Náměstí Míru. I'm actually glad we did. My family got to see the neo-gothic church there and see another neighborhood outside the Prague 1 tourist zone. They needed a break from meat so we went to Radost FX for dinner. I'm not sure if they liked the veg food but the decor made them laugh.
Everyone left on Sunday morning and immediately it began to snow.
Then it was Wednesday and my family was arriving. They were too tired to walk around much so we went to a hockey game--something you should definitely do while in Prague--and then had an Italian dinner in Old Town before calling it a night. Cass and I had wanted to climb the metronome but it had mysteriously gone dark and still. Creepy! So we decided to wait. I think they enjoyed walking around over the next few days. I hadn't realized how much I had picked up from my architecture class. I also hadn't realized how much walking I do every day. They were pretty good sports though. My dad was really struck by the monument to the victims of the soviet occupation in minor town. We passed it en route to Petrin Tower, from which we saw Prague's spires all silhouetted and dotted with lights. It's such a beautiful view on cold crisp nights.
I wrote about Thanksgiving on my class blog, which I'll be linking to as soon as I copy it all over. Somehow we managed to keep our main traditions: 1. Having Godmother Sharon with us and 2. Eating at a restaurant. Pretty amazing.
The metronome still wasn't lit when Cass and I were heading back, but we decided to climb it anyway. What a view!
That next day, Friday, we spent the entire day in the castle. We crossed Charles Bridge and then took a tram up. We ate lunch at Strahov brewery before admiring the monastery library across the square. We also explored the cathedral, the old palace, and the Romanesque Basilica. We had dinner reservations for 6.30 and it was pretty cold out by the time we finished all the architecture-focused stuff at 4, so we took refuge in the Lobkowicz Museum. Which I had wanted to see anyway. There the family showcases the enormous collection of portraits, weapons, manuscripts, instruments, and other treasures that they had owned, lost to the Nazis, got back, lost to the Soviets, and finally have retrieved again. It's only one of their properties, but it's a beautiful building and a very well put together museum.
After dinner, I even convinced my dad that he, Godmother Sharon, and Emily (since they were the not-quite-sleepy ones) should come to Pivovarsky Klub to meet up with some of my friends. It was so much fun!
Friday was our off-beat day. We took a morning trip to the "baby tower," aka the Žižkov television tower, to get a different view of the city. We then took the metro to Minor Town and went inside St. Nicolas' cathedral, which was gorgeous and very baroque. We split up for a bit after that. My family went to the Carmelite church that houses the Infant of Prague since we had seen a replica at the Lobkowicz museum. They tried to get into Cafe Savoy for lunch. Cass and I went to an Afghan restaurant in Old Town before returning to Minor Town to hang our lovers lock, admire the Lennon wall and pose with Černý's baby sculptures. We were all supposed to meet back in Old Town Square for the opening of the Christmas Market there. I hadn't realized when planning this that the opening of the market included a tree lighting comprable to the lighting of the Rockefeller tree. I've never been caught in a mob before, but that's what this turned into. My dad texted that they were ok and near the edge of the crowd, but I'm pretty sure Cass is the only reason I got out without breaking any bones. It was the scariest thing I've ever experienced.
The tree was lovely when the crowd finally cleared. We found my family and went to the much smaller and calmer market at Náměstí Míru. I'm actually glad we did. My family got to see the neo-gothic church there and see another neighborhood outside the Prague 1 tourist zone. They needed a break from meat so we went to Radost FX for dinner. I'm not sure if they liked the veg food but the decor made them laugh.
Everyone left on Sunday morning and immediately it began to snow.
11/14 - 11/19 Catch up post
Yet another American movie that I saw for the first time in the Czech Republic: Blues Brothers.
I went to a lecture by Tania Le Moigne, the woman responsible for establishing Google in the Czech Republic. Seznam is the search engine/email provider that most Czechs use, and Le Moigne has a very interesting story about getting involved with google.cz. In her pre-Google days, she started a company that made board games for children. Her favorite is a manners-focused game called "Don't Pick Your Nose." She brought a copy of this game to one of her Google interviews and got the job, leading her to reflect that "It's good to do something different."
Some of her other interesting thoughts:
- "you don't have time for safe bets"
- "Google wanted to develop new programs for the Czech market; I told them that we needed to work on converting the programs we already had into Czech first. Why would I use a search engine that doesn't speak my language? That was first priority."
- "It's called an ecosystem. Interesting people know interesting people."
- "The weakness of Google is that it doesn't communicate with its users well. People don't know about all of the programs we offer."
Why was I at a business lecture? I'm not sure, but it was interesting.
These days have been filled with planning for my family's arrival, brainstorming and researching for my final projects, and keeping up with my homework. Somehow, though, I've found time for visiting breweries, making midnight brownies, and saw Harry Potter 7 (part 1).
So the experience of going to the movies in Prague...First thing to note is that seats are assigned. We picked a showing of HP7 in English with digital Czech subtitles and sat right up front. Not to give any spoilers (trying hard!) but the scenes with the ministry propaganda office, propaganda posters, and the constant uncertainty that comes with life during wartime impacted me much more that I think they would have if I had seen them before spending time in an ex-Soviet state. The movie had an intermission, which caught me off-guard. I still say Emma Watson is too beautiful to play Hermione, but oh well.
I'll leave off there to avoid real spoilers. Let it suffice to say that I definitely belong to that generation that grew up with the Harry Potter books on our bedside tables. Strange to think that it's all ending soon.
Suddenly it's the 19th and Cass is arriving tomorrow. Strange to think that all this will be ending soon too. Such strange seasons my life has.
I went to a lecture by Tania Le Moigne, the woman responsible for establishing Google in the Czech Republic. Seznam is the search engine/email provider that most Czechs use, and Le Moigne has a very interesting story about getting involved with google.cz. In her pre-Google days, she started a company that made board games for children. Her favorite is a manners-focused game called "Don't Pick Your Nose." She brought a copy of this game to one of her Google interviews and got the job, leading her to reflect that "It's good to do something different."
Some of her other interesting thoughts:
- "you don't have time for safe bets"
- "Google wanted to develop new programs for the Czech market; I told them that we needed to work on converting the programs we already had into Czech first. Why would I use a search engine that doesn't speak my language? That was first priority."
- "It's called an ecosystem. Interesting people know interesting people."
- "The weakness of Google is that it doesn't communicate with its users well. People don't know about all of the programs we offer."
Why was I at a business lecture? I'm not sure, but it was interesting.
These days have been filled with planning for my family's arrival, brainstorming and researching for my final projects, and keeping up with my homework. Somehow, though, I've found time for visiting breweries, making midnight brownies, and saw Harry Potter 7 (part 1).
So the experience of going to the movies in Prague...First thing to note is that seats are assigned. We picked a showing of HP7 in English with digital Czech subtitles and sat right up front. Not to give any spoilers (trying hard!) but the scenes with the ministry propaganda office, propaganda posters, and the constant uncertainty that comes with life during wartime impacted me much more that I think they would have if I had seen them before spending time in an ex-Soviet state. The movie had an intermission, which caught me off-guard. I still say Emma Watson is too beautiful to play Hermione, but oh well.
I'll leave off there to avoid real spoilers. Let it suffice to say that I definitely belong to that generation that grew up with the Harry Potter books on our bedside tables. Strange to think that it's all ending soon.
Suddenly it's the 19th and Cass is arriving tomorrow. Strange to think that all this will be ending soon too. Such strange seasons my life has.
Czech them out!
What a terrible pun.
I was somewhat surprised to learn that the Czech Republic had a prolific, if short, cubist movement. Here are some Czech cubist/ cubist-inspired artists:
Antonin Prochazka
Emil Filla
Bohumil Kubista
Otoo Gutfreund
Vincenc Benes
Josef Capek
Josef Gocar
Vincenc Kramar
Frantisek Janak
Josef Plecnik
Also, one of my professors suggested a set of books for those interested in European politics. The author is Neil Kritz and the title is Transitional Justice. Interesting stuff.
I was somewhat surprised to learn that the Czech Republic had a prolific, if short, cubist movement. Here are some Czech cubist/ cubist-inspired artists:
Antonin Prochazka
Emil Filla
Bohumil Kubista
Otoo Gutfreund
Vincenc Benes
Josef Capek
Josef Gocar
Vincenc Kramar
Frantisek Janak
Josef Plecnik
Also, one of my professors suggested a set of books for those interested in European politics. The author is Neil Kritz and the title is Transitional Justice. Interesting stuff.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
A Pocket-Sized Sundial...
...and other adventures to be posted shortly.
I'm currently in the process of water-coloring/writing a 20 page book project, writing a 20 page policy paper on Central European university systems, researching a 10 pager about Waldorf education and a Manes gallery exhibit, and studying for a few tests. And soaking up every moment of these, my last 9 days in the Czech Republic.
In the handy notebook that lives in my school-bag are notes and sketches that will soon become post-dated blog posts. In the meantime, I'm living like Jigglypuff on adderall: trying to take in as much as I can, hoping these experiences become part of who I am, and being far too busy to sleep. Of course, my real life doesn't involve adderall because that stuff is scary. But you get the point.
Hold your thumbs (Czech for 'cross your fingers') that my exams go well, and I'll have more adventure stories--and probably a list of suggestions for anyone visiting Prague--very soon.
Na shledanou.
I'm currently in the process of water-coloring/writing a 20 page book project, writing a 20 page policy paper on Central European university systems, researching a 10 pager about Waldorf education and a Manes gallery exhibit, and studying for a few tests. And soaking up every moment of these, my last 9 days in the Czech Republic.
In the handy notebook that lives in my school-bag are notes and sketches that will soon become post-dated blog posts. In the meantime, I'm living like Jigglypuff on adderall: trying to take in as much as I can, hoping these experiences become part of who I am, and being far too busy to sleep. Of course, my real life doesn't involve adderall because that stuff is scary. But you get the point.
Hold your thumbs (Czech for 'cross your fingers') that my exams go well, and I'll have more adventure stories--and probably a list of suggestions for anyone visiting Prague--very soon.
Na shledanou.
Sunday, November 14, 2010
So glad I took this class...
Another History of Architecture adventure! We started with a tour of František Bilek’s chateau. He not only designed the building, but he was responsible for creating all of the decorations inside it as well. That means the sculptures on the first floor are his works, and so are each of the pieces of furniture, door-handles and window-hinges. Can you imagine such a project?! I think it would be wonderfully fun but hugely intimidating because it’s so…huge.
After the chateau, we walked past some other art nouveau buildings on the way to Letna park. We wondered at massive and beautiful buildings (many of them currently private residences) and wondered, gaped at the Prime Minister’s old official villa, and then admired the view of Prague at night as seen from a park look-out. It’s a funny thing: since daylight savings time, this class takes place entirely in the dark. We’ve been spending more time inside buildings as a result, but this also means that my pictures haven’t been coming out so well.
Just a thought: I wonder what the people who live in these buildings think when they look out the window to see my professor walking his bike and 12 of us students following beside him. We approach the building and stand there looking at it as he points out different details and explains its history… What a strange thing to see out one’s kitchen window on a Wednesday night.
After the chateau, we walked past some other art nouveau buildings on the way to Letna park. We wondered at massive and beautiful buildings (many of them currently private residences) and wondered, gaped at the Prime Minister’s old official villa, and then admired the view of Prague at night as seen from a park look-out. It’s a funny thing: since daylight savings time, this class takes place entirely in the dark. We’ve been spending more time inside buildings as a result, but this also means that my pictures haven’t been coming out so well.
Just a thought: I wonder what the people who live in these buildings think when they look out the window to see my professor walking his bike and 12 of us students following beside him. We approach the building and stand there looking at it as he points out different details and explains its history… What a strange thing to see out one’s kitchen window on a Wednesday night.
Monday, November 8, 2010
Time keeps on slipping...
How did it get so late so soon? It’s night before it’s afternoon! December’s here before it’s June! How did it get so late so soon? –Dr. Seuss
My dorm has had a few potlucks now, and I’m consistently amazed at how many people participate. In general, the programs here seem to get a lot of student support, but I wasn’t really expecting a dorm-bonding event to have a big turnout. I love my dorm: the building has a pretty small number of students living here, and everyone is very chill. It’s not like the monstrous dorm from last year where I didn’t know 9/10 of the building and constantly had to deal with vomit in the elevators and smoke in the staircases. This is a really good group of people. They’re all radically different personalities, which keeps things interesting, but overall they’re very friendly and great to live with. And it helps that we have such approachable RAs and a helpful building manager. Unlike in New York, here I’ve had a chance to actually spend time just hanging out with these lovely people. They’re friends (though ever professional, of course) who I’m hoping to keep in touch with and maybe even see again when I’m in Berlin next semester.
After the boys over fall break reminded me that American pancakes aren’t a regular part of life here, I decided to make some for the most recent potluck. They were chocolate chip. Yum! I also made pumpkin soup and pumpkin butter with the remaining half of my orange squash. So much seasonal goodness!
Friday the 5 was the last of the NYU-sponsored trips that I managed to get on. At first, I hadn’t really been interested in touring Plzen. Back in September, the history of beer-making in a Czech city hadn’t seemed so interesting. Since then I’ve had my share of Plzen brews. That new understanding combined with Plzen's becoming one of the 2015 European Culture Capitals convinced me to sign up. Maybe Sam’s nagging helped too. Regardless, it was a great trip and I’m glad I went. My advice to NYU in Prague students of the future: take advantage of the school sponsored trips. Instead of spending each weekend jetting off to Western Europe, as you may be tempted to do, sign up for the free weekend trips. You have your Thursday night in Prague instead of on a plane; your Friday and/or Saturday touring part of this wonderful country; NYU pays for tours, hostels, and (most) food; and you get home before dinner on Saturday so you still have part of your weekend to spend exploring Prague. Which you should pretty please be sure to do! Because suddenly it’s November and you’re wondering where the semester went.
Excuse my tangent. Now then, back to Plzen. This was a day-trip so we got on the bus at 8 and were in Plzen by 10. We started out with a tour of the major sites of the city. The school where Smetana studied under his uncle’s watchful eye was one of the tour highlights, along with the park that was built when the city moat was filled in and a mural depicting famous people from the life of the city. A more curious stop on the tour was a memorial of thanks to American soldiers who liberated Plzen at the end of WWII. Apparently, Soviets forbade history teachers to mention that Americans had any hand in ending the Nazi occupation. This would have been fine except that there were photographs of US soldiers that told the real story. So they had to concoct a cover-up and, long story short, the monument that exists today was build in very recent history because it could be built only after the old myths were expelled. Interesting stuff.
Two other stops on the tour were a Franciscan monastery and the gothic church in the main square. Our group walked into the church at the monastery to admire the decorations. This would have been fine except that they then walked up the main aisle to the alter, stopped to discuss the design of the pulpit, and took a few photographs…all while some old Czech women were trying to hold Eucharistic adoration! I hung out in the back and wondered about the places where the religious lives of some overlap with the academic (touristic?) lives of others. I’m all for admiring holy buildings, but it’s disrespectful to do so without understanding the basics of their community lives. The Jewish museum in Prague handles this really well: they hand out kippahs so that even the gentile men who visit the synagogues can cover their heads. Maybe the Catholic churches should put a sign out during adoration asking visitors to remain quietly in the transept. I was really uncomfortable.
Outside the gothic church in the main square, we got another dose of Czech superstition. I feel like wherever we go, there is something that you’re supposed to rub or hug or kiss for luck. In Plzen, the legend says that the town executioner was once waiting outside the church on his wedding day. Because he was considered an unclean person, he couldn’t enter the church and a legal stand-in groom had been appointed to take his place in the ceremony. As he waited, his nerves overcame him. He clutched at a sculpture of Christ’s head that was part of a decoration on a gate by the back of the church, and he started to pray. An old lady walked by and saw him. Since it was believed that executioners had some sort of mysterious power, the old lady immediately went and told the town that she saw the executioner transfer some of his magic into the sculpture. Even since, people have touched it for luck. It’s supposed to make your wishes come true.
If all of the good-luck rituals I’ve heard of this semester work, I should be fluent in multiple languages, tending a huge garden, writing pretty decent books and able to pay my parents back for every penny of my tuition…all within a year or so. Hold your thumbs for me! (Which apparently is the Central European version of crossing your fingers.)
The tour ended at lunch time, so Brianna led Becca and I to Andel Café for some to-die-for vegetarian food. This semester has been filled with great veg food, but I’m going to try to make those baked tomatoes when I have fresh tomatoes next summer. If I’m successful, I’ll post the recipe asap. Promise.
After lunch, we took tours of the Plzen underground, the original Plzen brewery and pub, and the current Plzner Urquell brewery. We learned that the underground cellars were originally for storing food and collecting well-water, but that they were eventually connected and could be used to making/storing beer, traveling between houses, and hiding valuables during times of war. We also watched a video about barrel-making and a video about Plzner’s growth as a company. We tasted hops and barley and unfiltered yeast-y beer. Then we watched the sun set over Plzner’s heliport before heading back to Prague for a quiet night.
Saturday, Sam and I had intended to explore some of the outer neighborhoods of Prague on foot. Instead, we started by taking tram 22 to the end of the line to see Bila Hora. We stopped off at a monastery on the way and ended up at the Star Castle on the way back. Then it started to rain so we hopped from tram to tram to stay dry. We went all over the city before eventually ending up in some southern outskirts. At that point I got cold so we came home to eat soup.
After dinner we headed to A Studio Rubin to an excellent concert featuring Megaphone and Milo. We had met one of the guitarists from Megaphone at an NYU event put together by one of the RAs a few weeks ago, and it was fun to see him perform. He even recognized us (well…he recognized Sam immediately), which was unexpected but pretty sweet.
After the concert ended, we walked out into the street. A few drunks were being a bit loud on their way out—not obnoxiously loud for NYC but annoyingly loud for Prague—until suddenly we heard pigeon wings and gunshots. We looked up, startled, and saw someone leaning out of the window of his apartment. He fired a few more blanks from his handgun before leaning back inside. Perhaps a bit of an over-reaction? In a city where you can be arrested for making too much noise after 10 pm, maybe not. Although that’s what you get for living over a concert venue in the tourist center. Just saying.
Sunday was pretty lazy. I went with Sam and Skjviana to get Afghan food at Ariana (which was sooo good!) and then we crossed the Vltava and walked down the river bank until we reached the Staropramen brewery. At which point we turned home to get caught up on work before class.
So now it’s Monday. Tomorrow, I turn old. To celebrate, friends are coming over for food. These are a few of my favorite things!
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Let's hear it for Soul!
After a pretty fantastic fall break, I was thoroughly exhausted for Halloween. I stayed in and studied; the Czechs don’t do Halloween anyway. Which, as I attempted to explain to a classmate earlier today, makes sense because our ‘Hallow’s Eve’ is not their ‘Hallow’s Eve’. They celebrate All Souls Day on November 2 rather than the first.
Once I was caught up on my work, I walked to the grocery store and spent a whopping 250kc on groceries because we have no food in the apartment. This is called post-vacation empty-fridge syndrome. (As a side note, if you do the conversion and decide that I’m being sarcastic, know that that’s a cheap bill in NYC but a moderate one in
I fell back into my classes very easily. I even remembered where we were supposed to meet for History of Architecture! We went to the Rudolfinum to start talking about historicism. The Rudolfinum is a neo-renaissance building that houses a concert hall—which I was in at the beginning of the semester when I saw the Philharmonic—as well as a gallery space. The current exhibition has actually generated quite a buzz around NYU because one of our professors is the curator. Otto Urban put together Decadence Now! based on the idea that decadence has been a strong influence in modern art. My professor explained that Decadence is the name of movement in writing and art historically associated with the 19th century. I’m obviously not an art historian (or else I should have known this), but seeing as styles seem to build off and react to each other, it made sense to me that Urban would see the influence of Decadence attitudes carrying over. I was interested to see how he would use the exhibit to point out its role in current art.
The concept of the exhibit was interesting. The pieces were grouped around 5 excesses and their manifestations. Excess of the self, for example, is depicted as pain. Excess of beauty becomes pop, of mind becomes madness, of body becomes sex, and of life becomes death. I don’t know anywhere near enough about art theory to agree or disagree…although I wonder if the same kinds of motifs can be found in pre-Decadence art as clearly. If so, the argument that Decadence influenced contemporary art by establishing these relationships might have to be reworked to consider where Decadence got those ideas from originally. Regardless, I thought the exhibit was organized really well. Aside from the unusual and interesting concept for arranging the pieces, the whole exhibition just flowed very well.
With my family coming to visit soon, I keep thinking about where to take them. I’ll probably leave this exhibit off the itinerary. Here’s my reasoning: The original artists of the Decadence movement were all about breaking taboos. Sure, Félicien Rops had some racy works…but his paintings were original. One might even call “Pornocrates” amusing. The original Decadents were artists who were making fun of the Victorians for 1) taking themselves too seriously and 2) pretending to be squeaky-clean and proper all the time. Maybe I would consider taking my parents to an exhibit with such pieces as those Rops made…the violence and eroticism had a target (of sorts) and was creatively presented. It’s interesting. As far as the pieces from Decadence Now! go, there were very few that would merit a pause. Personally, a sculpture with taxidermied animals having an orgy on a teeter-totter just does nothing for me. This isn’t the same as saying ‘I didn’t like the painting of the fairies having oral sex.’ I didn’t like it, but there are plenty of pieces of art that I don’t like, yet can appreciate. These really weren’t even pieces I could appreciate. Most of these works didn’t even strike me as effective pieces of ‘shock art,’ though you could tell with some that they were trying. Really they were.
Lest I sound too terribly negative, I did really enjoy one of the large portraits in the first gallery. I didn’t write down the artist’s name, but the portrait was a really dynamic one of the head of a person wearing a black S&M mask screaming against a stark white background. Maybe not the most aesthetically appealing content, but the photo itself was striking. Farther on in the exhibit were photographs by Ivan Pinkava, a painting by Josef Bolf and a fantastic skeleton-wheel sculpture by Steven Gregory, all of which were appropriately morbid (they were in the death room). I found these to be the most remarkable of the gallery’s works…aside from the architectural details of the gallery itself.
Since November 2nd fell on a Tuesday, I was able to take the time after IR and go to Olšanské Cemetary. I wanted to see how All Souls day is marked in the
Monday, November 1, 2010
Fall Break
"Never travel alone." It's solid advice, and advice I've heard repeated constantly since I was first introduced to the concept of the buddy system. But a rather wise young man whom I've had the privilege to meet a few times shared his version earlier this semester: "Always travel with a friend. That friend can be God, but always go with a friend." So, parents, before you berate me for going solo, consider that I was not alone in my fall break travels. Really.
Despite the fact that I could only commit one week (and during the off-season), I applied to WWOOF in Slovenia. I got a response from a family living just outside Litija, and so I bought train tickets and headed off.
Getting there was a bit of a fiasco. When buying my tickets, I had printed off the information about the two trains (or two series of train connections) that I wanted to take. The gentleman behind the counter instead printed out (and charged me for) an international rail-pass...though I didn't realize this until later. Having the rail-pass meant two things: I paid more than I had been planning on and my ticket listed different transfer stations than the print-outs I was following. The consequence? I got kicked off the train somewhere between Bratislava and Budapest because my ticket wasn't valid for Slovakia. After buying a ticket to get out of Slovakia, I bounced from info desk to info desk and train to train until I finally made it to Ljubljana.
Had I been traveling with other people--and consequently responsible for them--this would have been a much more stressful experience than it was. In fact, it would have been so stressful that I might not have been able to appreciate the views of the Austrian and Slovenian countryside beyond the train windows. And that would have been a tragedy, because the views were breath-taking. I would almost consider buying another rail-pass just to take that train ride again. Almost. As a side note, having the rail-pass was useful once I was train-hopping to get back on track. Of course, I wouldn't have been in that position in the first place if my ticket had been for the connections I wanted...but what can you do. It was an experience.
Strangely enough, I ran into NYU students on the last leg of my journey. They were going to Zagreb and we sat in a compartment with a Croatian boy who just thought that the other students (two girls who were very NYC glamorous) were fantastic. It was cute watching him try to impress them. In the process, he taught us some Croatian phrases (which we pronounced in a Czech way, prompting him to rebuke us and warn us that doing so made the words sound more Serbian...which would get us in trouble) and told us about his favorite food and drink: Ćevapi and Rakia.
I got off the train in Ljubljana, the capital of Slovenia, and spent three hours walking around the city center. I stopped at a lounge called Makalonca Cenik for tea and then met up with the parents of family I would be staying with. For the sake of their privacy, I'm not going to put their last names up here...but if you are seriously looking to WWOOF in Slovenia, feel free to email me and I'll forward you their info.
Their small farm is about an hour outside of the city and 15 minutes from Litija. By the time I got there the first night it was too late to look around so we just went to bed, but I knew from talking with Mateja (the mom) and Sandy (the dad) just on the car ride that I had made the right choice staying with them instead of touring Europe over break.
I'm not sure what was more refreshing: being outside a city or inside a family. There were roosters crowing, leaves changing colors, and vegetables growing. The comfortable smell of the wood stove and the voices of the kids (ages 4, 14, and 15)...listening to loud (Baltic and Serbian) music and spending time in a kitchen...There were moments when I felt like I was home at the start of the fall and winter holidays.
While I was prepared for anything, I'm so glad to have ended up with a family. After two years of hosting WWOOFers, they all spoke really good English. Because of this, I had a chance that I rarely have in Prague: the chance to have genuine open conversation with non-expats. And I'm so so glad to have been welcomed by this particular family because they were all such kind and interesting people.
I watched multiple "American Pie" movies with the Tim (the 15 year old) and Žan (the 14 year old), nodding when they pointed out "American style" film camera tricks and blushing when asked about various sex-toys. Actually, by the time I left I had spent large blocks of time in conversation with each of the boys. We talked about education systems and politics. We talked about movies and music. They asked what I thought about gay rights, whether all Americans are really bad at geography, and how we celebrate holidays. Sometimes we listened to Pink Floyd; sometimes we listened to Lepa Brena. We discussed the definition of 'rock and roll' and the rules of texas hold'em.
Interestingly, when I asked them about school we usually ended up talking about food. Though their parents had moved the family out of the city, both boys take the train to a city school--a Waldorf school at that--where they are in the minority when they identify as farmers, bring sandwiches made on 'black' whole-grain bread, or eat vegetarian. Apparently, people really give them a hard time about being vegetarian...a discrimination problem that I can't comprehend after living at NYU.
Food was actually a frequent discussion topic. We talked, as expected, about Thanksgiving turkeys, fast food chains, and ready-made frozen meals. The boys introduced me to Blejska Rezina and begged me to make "American style" pancakes (though not for breakfast due to the sugar content). Spending time with Mateja meant also talking about hydroponic farming, bread making, cereal-based coffee drinks, jam making, squash, and herbal teas. Mealtime involved gathering everyone who was home around the table, joining hands to say grace in Slovene, and spending time all together...which was enjoyable even when I couldn't follow the conversation due to my linguistic ineptitude. Mealtime was when I learned that salad is eaten from a common bowl, everyone uses his or her own knife for putting spreads on bread, soup is common as a starter for lunch, and cream cheese should never (outside Philadelphia) be mixed with jam on the same piece of bread.
Much of the work I did was also centered around food. I cut apples for drying, juicing, and jam-making. Lots and lots of apples. I also picked beans, gathered raspberries, raked leaves into the compost pile, and even cooked a few times. After weeks of writing papers and reading academic articles, working with my hands was such a relief!
Midweek, I spent a morning wandering along the Chestnut Touristic Trail that started near Saint Anthony of Padua pilgrimage church, wound through the mountain woods, dipped into the valley, and circled back toward the farm where I was staying. Taking time to be alone with my thoughts in the woods was such a luxury! There were a few touristic farms on the trail (complete with carvings and paintings that reminded me of the Pennsylvania Dutch hex signs that I'm used to), but I didn't get too close to any of them. I do wish I had known that there would be shops selling local honey where the trail intersected beekeeping paths. I'd have brought a few Euros along.
As wonderful of a time as I had, the most memorable two stories are both from my last few hours with the family. Throughout my stay, Žan had been working on a project for school which involved writing/illustrating 30 pages about the chicken house he and Sandy were building. When he showed me his work-in-progress, he also explained to me the benefits and needs of a certain breed of chicken that he wanted to buy: the silky. This is important background information for the first story. So...
Saturday, my last day, was also Žan's 14th birthday. This was a week after Tim's birthday and a week before mine. For his birthday, Žan got to pick what foods we had for lunch. He picked grilled cheese and tomato soup (which is what I like on my birthday if I'm home!) and french fries. I have wonderful pictures of him feeding Sandy french fries!
We were finishing eating and Žan had a bottle of non-alcoholic 'champagne' that he was very excited to open. As he was getting ready to pop the top, Sandy brought a big box with a bow into the room and set it on the floor. Everyone got up and hugged Žan and wished him a happy birthday, and he thanked them but then said he would wait to open the gift because he wanted to open the champagne first. And that's almost what happened...but then a small thumping sound came from inside the box. Well! You can probably guess where this is going. Žan temporarily forgot about the champagne and rushed to open the box. He was surprised and delighted to get three silky chickens as a birthday present. He rushed to bring them outside to the chicken house, leaving Mateja and Sandy victoriously beaming across the kitchen table. I'm so glad to have been part of that moment.
After lunch, I only had a little bit of time left. I went outside to make mudpies with Zala, admire the new chickens, and attempt (with Žan's support) to ride a unicycle. Then the boys suggested we ride motorbikes. This led to the second story, which I'm going to copy/paste from an email I sent to one of my friends back in NYC:
"After a fantastic fall break (which I'll write more of later), the time arrived for me to part from my Slovenian host family. I made mud-pies with the daughter, cheered for one son as he opened his birthday present (chickens!), packed, ate grilled cheese and tomato soup...and found myself with an hour to spare. The birthday boy suggested I try his unicycle, which I did without much success. Then his brother brought out their motorbikes and they insisted that I try just once before leaving. For about 10 minutes, it was lovely. Then I crashed in the fantastically graceful way only I can. Bleeding from both knees, both palms and my shoulder, I limped back to the house with the boys. Their mom tied a bandage around the worse knee so that it wouldn't bleed through my jeans any more than it already had. We laughed because I'm a clutz. We laughed because I hadn't shaved for a week so Mateja bandaging my knee also meant everyone admiring my hippie leg-forests. We laughed because we didn't want to say goodbye.
"I hugged everyone and, looking like I'd just gotten mugged, hopped onto a train. Transferred once. Transferred twice. While waiting for my train in Vienna, I was approached by three NYU in Prague students who needed help getting home. We all sat in the same train car and traded travel stories.
"13 hours later, I was back in Prague.
"14 hours later--because they re-routed the trams for construction so I walked-- I was back in my dorm.
"I didn't have my key so the security guard let me in to my room.
I promptly took the longest shower of my life, cleaned my room, curled up, and went to bed."
And let me say, I was looking out the skylight before falling asleep around 7.30 am on Sunday, and I was so confused. It was still dark out! I'd woken up at 7.30 the day before to bright sunlight! I was too travel-tired to realize that it was daylight savings time playing tricks on me.
When I woke up, I spent Halloween grocery shopping and catching up on homework.
I could only take a few pictures because my new camera has a small memory card, but they're all online if you want to check them out: http://picasaweb.google.com/101917038422029660027/FallBreak?feat=directlink
Sunday, October 17, 2010
A Selfish Post on the master of puppets
My laptop is down for the count...which means midterm papers have to be saved in cyber-space if I want to keep them somewhere accessible. Ladies and Gents, allow me to present the pun-nily named (all for you Mr. T.) paper for my Literature and Place class:
Master of Puppets: Jiří Trnka’s Ties to Czech Culture
“Do your paper on Jiří Trnka,” my suitemate said, “He animated creepy puppet films that were more for adults than kids. He’s right up your alley.” Sure, Trnka’s “The Hand” and “The Cybernetic Grandmother” have their disturbing moments, but on the whole Trnka’s legacy grew more from his mixed-media innovations than from controversial content in his works. Though he would create films protesting the fetishism of technology, he created those films by breathing new life into a storytelling form with deep historical roots in the Czech lands through his use of new technologies and trick photography.
Czech puppet use evolved from Pagan traditions that used puppets for both ceremonial and entertainment purposes. After the 30-years-war, the marionette style of puppet became particularly popular, and this remains the case today. Typically, puppeteering was a family trade. This custom may have developed because the puppeteer was expected to make his own puppets, make his own sets, control all the puppets in a show, and perform all of the voices as well. With this much work involved, it is not surprising that the spouses and children helped with some of the labor. In doing so, they informally apprenticed in the field and so naturally grew into puppeteers themselves. Other signature characteristics of Czech puppet theater that could stem from this one-man tradition include the development of stories conceived with few set changes and one to two character scenes. Noticing these aspects of Trnka’s early works clearly reveals his training in classical puppetry.
Jiří Trnka was born 24 February 1912 in a suburb of
Skupa recognized the boy’s talent and convinced his family that Trnka should attend the
In 1945, Disney dominated the international animation scene, creating a standard of anthropomorphic animals and ‘smile through the storm’ morals. At the same time, Trnka thought up his first film: Grandpa Planted a Beet. At the time, he was animating for the Trick Brothers and so was able to turn his story into the first Czech animated cartoon. His use of human characters was as revolutionary in the international scene as his moral: the help of even the smallest and weakest is valuable. Considering the tone of Czech literature, though, his choice to deliver Aesopic lessons rather than Disney-esque ones makes complete sense.
He made one other animated film, The Gift, before beginning in 1946 to produce the first stop-motion puppet films. He began with
At first, Trnka’s puppets acted without commentary and without voices. The auditory cues for the tone and plot were set by the music of Václav Trojan’s music. He later experimented with the use of external narrators, folksongs as chapter introductions, and eventually dialogue for the puppets themselves. This last experiment proved especially challenging. Trnka believed that “the mask-like faces of the characters would preserve the magic spell of myths” (Boček, 160). Animating the faces of the puppets to enable realistic speech would ruin this effect, so Trnka has to think of other possibilities. Sometimes his characters wear costumes that cover their mouths. Sometimes they whisper with their backs to the camera. Sometimes the camera focuses on the audience being addressed. In later films, he sometimes even uses paper dolls with animated faces to serve as the voices for the puppet characters.
This capacity for creative problem-solving, combined with the unique problems brought about when dealing with a cast of puppets and a crew of apprentice puppeteers, is part of the reason Jiří Trnka became such a sensation. When he needed transparent characters, he would shoot two images on the same frame and let them overlap. He used burning candles and moving suns to show the passage of time. He lingers over details to build suspense, manipulates shadows to move the viewer’s focus, and deliberately chooses the placement of color (or lack of) to emphasize motifs. In short, he pioneered the use of trick photography in animated film and inspired other artists to experiment with similar techniques. He became such a master of nuance that he even animated a “Shakespeare without Shakespeare” project: A Midsummer Night’s Dream performed without the prose dialogue that the play usually depends on. His version, a puppet ballet, manages to keep the humor of the original even without the repartees, and his version of the play-within-the-play even has a touch of tragic humor that gives it more depth than in the original.
To discuss Jiří Trnka’s place in Czech culture is difficult in such a short space. His final two works—The Cybernetic Grandmother and The Hand—are also the most frequently discussed. The first echoes “Up from the Wheelbarrow” (Ogden Nash) in warning against over-digitization. It features a young girl whose grandmother, at the parents’ telegrammed request, places her in the care of a cyber grandmother. The second film was banned by the Soviet government because it blatantly declares that totalitarianism suffocates the creative spirit of man and kills him in the process. The main character delights in making pots for his favorite flower. One day, a giant hand impinges and pressures him to sculpt hands instead. The overwhelming desperation and paranoia created by the situation causes the character’s death. Perhaps the most disturbing aspect of the plot is the way the hand does not directly kill the character—in fact it gives him a formal wake upon his death—and so can claim innocence of the deed.
These films showcase all the skills that Trnka developed during his long career, and they are also brilliantly executed examples of social criticism delivered through a medium traditionally reserved for children. They do deserve to be discussed; however, they are not representative of Trnka’s role in Czech culture throughout his career. Considering the 28 films Trnka is responsible for (as well as the numerous merry circuits and book illustrations), it becomes more apparent that his legacy is that of an artist. He pioneered a multi-media film style and developed the techniques necessary to best utilize the available technology while overcoming the limitations of the media being included. Certainly his social and political commentaries are significant, but his innovations in animation were the first serious threat to the Disney monopoly. They were innovations that stemmed from his training in traditional Czech puppeteering, making him someone no other country could have produced.
References
(1996). On Jiří Trnka /3 [Medium of recording: VHS]
Boček, J. (1965). Jiří Trnka artist and puppet master.
Dubská, A. et al. (2006). Czech puppet theater yesterday and today.
Träger, J. (1958). Jiří Trnka master of the Czechoslovak puppet films.
filmexport.
[1] Skupa, famous in his own right, ran Kaspa’s Cabaret in
[2] An exploration of the influence of Trnka’s next years as an illustrator and set designer is beyond the scope of this paper, but let it suffice to say that Trnka brought his puppet-making experience into his character illustration and later explored the use of multiple sets in his puppet productions as a result of his experiences in this interim. His connections from this time also helped him get established in the film world later on. Both painting and live theater would remain major parts of his life until his retirement. For example, his last film The Hand uses an actor’s awareness of the power of nuance to turn a puppeteers hand into a menacing character with minimal help from costuming or props.
[3] Ironic since the series was released as a whole in 1947, at which point the occupying Soviets were plotting to take power in
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Bratislava
I have to admit, I almost dropped IR at the beginning of the semester. It wasn’t that I knew (yet) about how intensely cut-throat NYU’s IR program is; rather, I was acutely aware of the fact that I have zero background in international relations and that this class would be an honors seminar.
Why didn’t I chicken out? Once class started, I realized that the material is fascinating and our professor somehow manages to be both brilliant and hysterical at the same time. Maybe this is a generalization, but I find that academics of a certain caliber sometimes seem a bit intimidating. Especially here where I (and many of the other student’s I’ve talked to) feel frequently that our professors are overqualified to be teaching US. The pros and cons of such sentiments could and probably shall be analyzed for pages…but my point here is that my IR professor is certainly that caliber, but his jokes and easy conversation style break that illusion of perfection and allow us to know him (to an extent) as a person as well as an academic. This is important: one cannot be inspired by the achievements of a machine, but a remarkable human being is…well…remarkable. And inspiring.
So back to me being wide-eyed, totally clueless and excited to learn. Once the class started, the decision to stay in it came easily. Before that, however, (and I know this sounds shallow) I stayed because the syllabus listed a field trip to
We left Thursday…in a big green van that said “Official Pilsner Ambassadors.” Way to sell out, NYU. What if I like Staropramen better than the Pilsner monopoly brands? Hmmm???
I’m just kidding. It was still really funny to know that everyone watching us get into the van—not knowing that we’re NYU students in a government class—were seeing young Americans about to be chauffeured around and drinking excesses of the big commercial-brand Czech beer. If only they knew the truth…
We got to
After dinner we walked up to the Slovak government building and to
Turning one’s back to the statue meant looking out over the city at night, and the view was stunning. From there we climbed down the hill and found a bar (where there was a musician singing “American Pie”?) for a Zlatý Bažant before turning in for the night. I love low-key nights, and it was somewhat refreshing to be going out with a different group of friends.
Our second day started with breakfast at the hotel (pension? It was cute and small…too much so to feel like a ‘hotel’). Then we headed into town for a very busy day. First we met Martin Bútora and his wife Zora Bútorová in a building run by Open Society (George Sorros’ project). We were fortunate enough to have the chance to hear lectures from both of them on the changes in the social and political situation in
We broke for a quick lunch before our second set of lectures. Embarrassingly, I forget the name of our first lecturer, but my notes from his speech reference both Freedom House and Slovak Foreign Policy Association (he works in their research center). The lecture dealt with trends in the political history of Slovakia and it was loaded with statistics and dates. Really informative, but I couldn't keep up well enough to take thorough notes. At this point, I might know more about the transitional governments in Slovakia than those in the Czech Republic...
Our second lecturer was Tom Nicholson, a Canadian writer who moved to Slovakia and now works with their top news publications. Which leads me to another embarrassing admission: I really enjoyed listening to a more American-style lecture from a speaker with no accent. I know that sounds terrible, but I wasn’t the only one who misses English speakers sometimes. And the lecture style is just different (though I enjoy and learn a lot from both). This isn’t to say that all lecturers speak the same in either place, but speakers from the American continent tend to rely heavily on anecdotes in their teaching…something my European professors don’t do as much unless they are referencing specific court cases and the like. Anyway, Nicholson was a really engaging speaker. He talked a lot about the corruption in the Slovak government over the past 20 years and he explained a bit about how things stand now. He also had some crazy stories about being an investigative journalist in a country where top politicians and secret police collaborate(d?) with thugs.
On a side note, I found this article that his wife contributed to, and I really enjoyed it. Some of the cultural differences she mentions are things I encountered here but at this point had started to take for granted.
Once all our lectures were finished, we headed outside to take a tour of the city. There is a somewhat amusing side-story attached to that transition. We had been street-side on the third or fourth floor of a building for our lectures. The windows faced the square where we were supposed to meet our tour guide, and the windows were open. One of the boys in the class had arranged with friends of his who were going to be in
The friends were nice kids though. They were en route to
Again, we had a pretty quiet night after that. My room mate and I got up early-ish the next day so that we could walk down to the city center and take pictures. Then we met everyone for breakfast, checked out of the hotel, and all climbed into the Pilsner-Urquell van. On the drive, my professor told us about our destination: the Gabcikovo Dam.
Here’s my version on the history of the dam:
…
Ta da. It’s strange because you look across the part of the river that
We walked around the dam area a bit and then went into a gallery that’s open on a small artificial island. It’s called
After finishing at the gallery, we said good-bye to our professor and his wife. As we drove back toward
We tried to get food at the castle, but they didn’t have anything so we got back on the bus and stopped twice more: once at a gas station and once at an Ikea (where we did find dinner finally).
Home at last. All-in-all, a very worthwhile trip. I’m pretty amazed my professor puts something like this together for each class he teaches, but I’m very glad he does.
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