Shakespeare in Czechoslovakia, 1989

I've just found this 2011 posting from Blogging Shakespeare, quoting a speech  by Professor Stanley Wells, CBE, about a very important day in the history of Czechoslovakia:

"In 1989 I visited Czechoslovakia at the invitation of its senior Shakespeare scholar Zdenek Stribrny, who for a quarter of a century had been forbidden to teach because of his liberal opinions. I landed at Prague airport on 19 November 1989, a date that has gone down in history as the first day of the Bloodless, or ‘Velvet’ Revolution. My lecture to the Czech Academy on the following day was punctuated by the chanting of the vast procession of protesters winding their way from Wenceslaus Square to the Presidential Palace. Afterwards I stood with members of my loyal audience on a balcony to witness the seemingly endless procession stream by, the walkers waving up to the tall plate-glass windows of the National Theatre whose actors, along with the students, had been prime movers in the protest. I still have the badge bearing the image of the president and playwright Vaclav Havel which was thrown down to me from a window as I made my way to Wenceslaus Square for the vast assembly addressed by Havel and Dubcek in which, I have learnt only recently, another playwright, one whom the RSC is celebrating this year – Harold Pinter – and his wife were also present".

I was there too, at the Czech Academy, at the lecture and on the balcony. A momentous occasion.

Sorting out my books today, I came across two copies of Shakespeare's comedies in Czech translation, inscribed by Professor Zdenek Stribrny. Both very generous, and moving. The first was dated 8 March, 1989:

The second was dated 31 October, 1989:

and 12 October, 1989:

See also, re Professor Emeritus PhDr. Zdeněk STŘÍBRNÝ:  Book review in Czech, and biographical note

And a poster, from another exciting occasion in that same month, exactly a week before, 24 October:

I really must publish the book I have written about those years...So much fascinating material! See also my recent posting about Roger McGough's visit to Prague back then

I must also write about the Cheek by Jowl production of "The Tempest", and its reception in Prague on 14th March 1989. Here are some passages from my Czechoslovak journal:

18.3.1989
Busy week! Cheek by Jowl a great event at Nová Scená. In many ways I preferred Philoctetes to The Tempest, as a production. People full of admiration – there was a great ovation- both for The Tempest and for Caliban’s (Duncan Duff) freedom-chant. Michael Coveney in The Financial Times had a long article on The Tempest in Prague, subtitled “British theatre company Cheek By Jowl has taken the city by storm.”

“This has been a big week for the British Council in Prague. Our own Cheek by Jowl has scored a resounding success in the new wing of the Czechoslovak National Theatre. And the new mood of British glasnost has been reflected in the installation of a transparent new door in the Council’s Jungmannová Street headquarters.
We have no secrets, this door seems to say. But the Czechs live with theirs. The dissident playwright, Václav Havel, has been sentenced to nine months after being clumsily arrested at the January laying on of flowers in memory of the self-immolating martyr of 1968, Jan Palach. He has started serving this sentence. An appeal, generally thought to be futile, will be heard next week. Three thousand people have signed a petition declaring Havel to be a decent man and a good writer.

When Trinculo and Stephano launched into the “Thought is free” catch in The Tempest you suddenly realised that this play meant something very much more powerful in this part of the world in its discussion of the whimsical dispensation of civil liberty…

You forget how potent these plays are…we can only reflect on the political application of a play like The Tempest and its local, but internationally resonant significance.”

In another article, on March 25, 1989, entitled “Real Czech drama is offstage”, Michael Coveney refers to a “memorable” Bookmark programme on BBC TV last month, devoted to Havel. Art, we were told by an official, “has to serve the health of society.” That disgusting and dangerous prescription said more about the nature of tyranny, its ignorance and stupidity, than could any well-meaning liberal commentary…

I am not sure I have seen the best of Prague theatre, but I am equally sure I have seen a typical selection. I did sense that the tide is turning and that Havel cannot possibly be imprisoned again. The signatures are gathering. Characters like Jan Grossman are being rehabilitated…

Michael also wrote an article on Brno’s Theatre on a String (21.3.89) and the best play he saw on his visit, an adaptation of Hrabal’s “I Served the King of England”. “In my book, they provided the greatest hope for the nation’s theatrical future I encountered on a short but stimulating visit.”

To Bratislava on Saturday for Philoctetes. Packed National Theatre, warm applause. Party afterwards for 80, all our Slovak friends. Jo Blaho will publish my interview in Friendship, with the “barbed wire” references.
The last night of The Tempest in Bratislava also got curtain-calls, as in Prague.

Monday, 20 November, 1989.

I arrived at Muzeum Metro-Station at 8.30am, and emerged by the Statue of Saint Wenceslas. The base of the equestrian statue had been transformed into an altar for freedom. Solidified candle-wax covered the stone. Hundreds of candles were burning, national flags adorned the statue and there was a banner demanding free elections. A student was reading out a proclamation to a group of twenty bystanders. November 17 had become the decisive day, loaded with symbolic meaning. The nation’s anger was directed against the riot policemen who had used unforgivable violence against their own children.

At  4pm I arrived at Muzeum again, on my way to a lecture on Shakespeare by Professor Stanley Wells. It was almost impossible to climb the station’s stairs because of the pushing, excited crowds. Students were standing all over the statue; flags were draped over the King and his horse, candles were burning and the main banner now read ‘Free elections and pluralistic democracy’. Everywhere people were carrying home-made banners such as ‘Down with Tyrrany.’

I made my way to the Academy of Sciences on Národní Street. In Room 206, Professor Zdeněk Štříbrny introduced Professor Stanley Wells, whose topic was ‘Shakespeare: editor as director’. Professor Wells stood beside a large bust of Lenin and commenced his lecture. Outside, the crowds were marching past the National theatre, and Professor Wells’s voice was drowned by the chanting, clapping and roaring for truth:

‘Pravda vítěze’(Truth Will Prevail’)

‘Národ sobě’ (The Nation unto itself’)

‘Long live Havel’

Academic matters may seem irrelevant at such a time, but Professor Wells delivered a fine lecture against the waves of chanting and the hundreds of thousands marching past the National theatre, saluting and applauding the striking actors:

‘A’t žiji herci!’ (‘Long live the actors!’)

The actors waved down at the crowds from the large windows of the Nová Scená directly opposite the balcony of the Academy of Sciences. I recalled the Cheek By Jowl production of The Tempest which had been such a success at the same Nová Scená eight months earlier, especially the controversial scene at the end of Act II scene 2 when Caliban repeatedly and insistently beat the floor howling ‘Free-dom, high-day, high-day free-dom, free-dom!’ As the critic Michael Coveney had written in the Financial times (18.3.99): ‘You suddenly realised that this play meant something very much more powerful in this part of the world in its discussion of the whimsical dispensation of civil liberty…you forget how potent these plays are.’

***

I wish Edwin Muir and Dick Pollak could have stood in Wenceslas Square with me, to hear the sound of the simultaneous rattling of thousands upon thousands of bunches of keys.

In June 1989, Friendship/L’Amitié Magazine had published an interview with me, which was read in almost every secondary school in Czechoslovakia (although I was writing for a much wider readership). I was asked the question, “Do you have any visions for the future”, to which I replied:

“Apart from a Europe without frontiers, or at least without barbed-wire, my wishes for the future would certainly include greater tolerance and understanding in the world, less fanaticism and terrorism, more respect for human rights everywhere, and a united attack on environmental pollution, whether in the streets of London or of Prague, and cleaner rivers and seas. Since my next job is going to be concerned with Literature, I would say that freedom of expression is the most important issue. I would wish to see more people stand up for that idea.”

I was also asked, “What do you think about young people in Czechoslovakia?” I replied: “My impression is that young people here are well-educated, talented, polite and civilised, but perhaps a little apathetic. They need more of a challenge, more opportunities to travel.”

Another question was “Which place of interest did you enjoy most in Czechoslovakia?” I replied: “I like the view from Devín Castle, but I don’t like to see barbed wire and borders”.

A typical letter came from a teacher in Spišska Nová Ves, dated 13 June 1989:

“I liked your article in Friendship very much and am completely in accordance with your creeds and opinions as to the freedom of expression, the importance of travelling, etc”. 

Another letter came from Pavel (surname not on letter), dated 19.6.89 :

“Our children, from Šumava to Tatras, will read your open words about barbed-wires and freedom of expression. That’s just what they need. “

***

As Shakespeare put it:

‘Free-dom, high-day, high-day free-dom, free-dom!’