Anglicky in Olomouc

Barka's Story – in His Own Words

HE WALK – with SQUID and RONNIE. Normal tree and tree walk around water: same smell. WALK by long grass poo and big swim water to drink stream. Happy!

GET UP to new WALK. Excited good and new smell. New HOUSE, no people. New DOG: little, alone and bark – no fight. New path-on-water strange and wind blow. HE sit, see long.

HE have CHEW STICK for SQUID and RONNIE and BARKA good. GET UP new path, HE WALK under tree and tree.

GO HOME – not HOME now. New people have HOUSE, new wood stick seat and new DOG MONTY: DOG MONTY fight me, fight SQUID and RONNIE before. BAD BOY, MONTY! Big fear. No safety – alert. Little sleep.

Near DINNER normal HE WALK, GET UP tree and tree and river, same smell. Alert – MONKEY smell, hear and see: bark and bark. Happy!

GO HOME (not GO HOME) and DINNER. New man near OUT. Door open, big fear. Big noise car near OUT – run! HE not happy. HE call, “BARKA! BARKA!” Big fear – big hide. No more HE call, “BARKA!” HOME quiet – WALK quick past new man. Safety under new wood stick seat. HE: LEAD on – to new box. Into new box (with bed smell cloth). Oh no! Big fear. SQUID into new box. RONNIE into new box. Cat DOOLEY into new box. Box SQUID, box RONNIE, box BARKA and cat DOOLEY box into big noise car. New smell – strange DOG. Big car move: big fear. HE talk noise new man.

Night. Big noise car stop. BARKA box, SQUID box, RONNIE box and cat DOOLEY box out to new HOUSE ­– not like. HE near and talk noise, “GOOD BOY!” Can see outside box: people and people face near BARKA. Talk and talk noise and new smell strange. Unhappy! Drink and food in box. HE OUT. SQUID box, RONNIE box, BARKA box and cat DOOLEY box move outside. Big noise new. New smell. Can see. Big fear. No safety.

SQUID box, RONNIE box, BARKA box and cat DOOLEY box up in air: new HOUSE. People OUT. HOUSE is big noise and move strange. Alert and big fear! Big noise HOUSE not move now: little sleep. Then move strange and noise strange. Big fear. Then cold air. People talk noise strange. Big fear – unhappy! New HOUSE people and people face and talk noise. New smell. Then HE voice! HE voice! HE! Can see HE: HE COME HERE. Happy! No OUT. Not happy!

SQUID box, RONNIE box, BARKA box wait. Talk noise. Cold air. HE OUT. HE COME HERE with new big noise car. DOGS OUT box – UP. DOGS into big noise car: SIT. “GOOD BOY!”

HE SIT: big noise car move. No fear. Alert. Happy! Little sleep. Big noise car stop. LEAD on HE WALK – cold air and cold hard water for paws. New smell. DINNER: HE and DOGS with bread and meat. Happy!

Night. Big noise car stop. SHE voice! SHE voice! Can see SHE! SHE! Cat DOOLEY box with SHE. Big car stop and new HOUSE. New people. New smell – strange DOG! Alert. DINNER. HE and SHE call, “BYE-BYE!” and OUT. Unhappy! SQUID, RONNIE, BARKA, cat DOOLEY all sleep in new HOUSE.

New people nice. New voice noise. Day and day, night and night new people: new WALK with new people, SQUID and RONNIE. Cold air and cold hard water for paws – strange is normal. New people little girl – nice. Happy!

– – –

HE and SHE COME HERE. Happy! WALK in cold air and DINNER. HE and SHE call, “BYE-BYE!” Oh no! HE and SHE OUT. Unhappy! SQUID unhappy! RONNIE unhappy! Cat DOOLEY happy!

HE COME HERE. Into new big noise car and GET UP to new HOUSE! New smell – strange DOG. No wood stick seat. HE and SHE and SQUID and RONNIE and BARKA and cat DOOLEY alert: little sleep night. New HE WALK, new smell – strange DOGS. Alert new water bird and new furry tree MONKEY (not MONKEY).

LEAD on WALK new park and WALK river. New people DOGS – good dogs happy (no fight me). New people and people – new fear. New HOUSE new people big noise day and day. SQUID, RONNIE and BARKA bark and bark. Night HE call new people, “BYE-BYE!” and then big sleep good. New HOUSE good: new normal good, now HOME good. Happy!

Composers of Palacký University

"It's a free concert, at least it is for me!" said the Memsahib, beaming that her employment at the University provides such exciting perks. As a non-teaching-non-anything-really-Joe Publicky, I had to dig deep into my pocket to pay the exorbitant sum of Kč80 for the privilege – that's nearly £2.62/HK$31.36 in old money!

We thought we'd seen all there is to see at the Moravské Divadlo Olomouc (Moravian Theatre) on our last outing there to enjoy the classical 19th century warmth of Donizetti's Lucia de Lammermoor. That particular performance back in February had at first a touch of the am drams about it, but the mostly-septuagenarian audience appreciated a lively show that worked itself into a suitably Czech lather. But the Moravian Theatre has another excellent performance venue upstairs, the Reduta (redoubt in English) – a concert hall that has obviously had some money spent on it in the last few years as it is in tip-top condition for expertly produced quality concertyness. Proud Olomoucians in their ill-fitting black or grey Sunday bests, in restrained flowing evening wear or all out in mismatching, bulging tops and skirts are right to treat the venue with such respect.

This particular concert was to mark the occasion of the 440th anniversary of Palacký University. As part of the Olomouc Music Festival it comprised compositions of music professors at the University and proved an eye/ear-opener of the first degree. When one thinks of provincial towns (Olomouc is the Czech Republic’s 6^th largest town) one cannot help but feel that the standards are necessarily lower, that the expectations are more gentle and that the quality of production understandably less – misconceptions one and all. What followed was a concert of intellectual stimulation as good as that served up anywhere and by anyone and my Kč80 proved well spent.

First up, Concerto for two percussionists and orchestra – a lively two-movement piece by the late Pavel Čotek (1922-2005). Témbry (Timbres), the first movement comprised composery flouncing at a large collection of percussive instruments –vibraphones, glocks, timpani, tubular bells and a host of cowbells, drums, cymbals and triangles. The overall effect was, at first, of form over substance, of the sort of excited arrangement that exercises a composer's mind at night (with enough free rein). But then the patternization meted out by father and son percussionists, Ladislav Bilan Sr and Ladislav Bilan Jr, created a stronger form than I supposed achievable. The orchestral interventions and background added to overall weight and depth in much the same way as the stretched canvas is necessary for painted artistic endeavors, no matter how abstract. The second movement, Rytmy (Rhythms), perhaps carried the audience a little better, using more familiar rhythmic structures, but its dénouement cleverly brought the listener back to the staccato-esque 'pots and pans' beginning of the first movement. There may have been one or two formal clichés throughout, but the performers, conductor Petr Vronský and Moravian Philharmonic pulled it off with such panache that we were truly moved, more so at the appearance within the affectionate applause of the composer’s frail widow.

All change, please. From Vít Zouhar’s operatic pen came the next piece for the Moravian Phil, Ritorni, a modified form of a Philip Glass meets Vivaldi piece already premiered at other festivals. This premiere was of an arrangement for strings and harpsichord. Its gentle classically-resonant phrases flowed and repeated, flowed and repeated: it would make great music for a TV advertisement of some sort –grandiose without being inhuman– maybe for a high street bank… But perhaps I am unfair: it was, like the previous piece, accomplished and not without flair. At least the composer’s programme notes were relatively restrained, descriptive not prone to flowery hyperbole. Which is more than can be said for what occurred after the interval.

Intermissions usually involve the customary steam roll towards the bar, but this was the most unusual experience in that, outside a supermarket checkout, this was the first time I had seen Czechs form a queue – an orderly, first-come-first-served queue in the old fashioned sense. For the locals the provision of alcohol is clearly worth the queuing! Bypassing this gobsmacking novelty, we asked for two gin and tonics, to be told there was no tonic. Well aware of the grave toilety dangers of skulling interval beers, we opted for Fantas (haven’t had one in years) and to later have one-or-two pivos for the cobbled road. It is customary at any public venue to complain uproariously about the state of the gents, however, the Memsahib’s retch-inducing visit to the ladies powder room proved that many ladies are ladies in name only and the mellifluous lingering odours that emanate from their unwashed nether-parts testifies to the most un-ladylike of ablutional habits…

 

Marek Keprt, young(-ish) Olomoucan composer, pianist (see Youtube above) and teacher at the Department of Musicology at the Philosophical Faculty of the University, obviously trusted enough to be given free range in February and March of this year to come up with the four movement ČtverJho chořních dob that began the second half. And if you are given freedom then I suppose you should use it! Certainly Mr Keprt was unorthodox in his arrangement of the traditional orchestra and of instrument usage (noisy air blowing through brass, use of timpani sticks on open piano strings), of solo violins, violas and cellos glissily slippin’ and slidin’ about on their fretwork to find 'micro-intervals and minimalism’ and of a wailing soprano placed alone on the balcony all brought about a decidedly nonconformist, if not overall muddied, impression. But in truth it was not the interesting abstract music that bothered me so much as the programme notes thrown together by the man himself: “JasJho (BrightnessYoke). Jas jha (Brightness of the yoke)? Jho jasu (Yoke of brightness)? The perception of the brightness of the yoke (or the yoke of brightness?) Is suppressed, distorted, ever less conscious.” And so it goes on… simple questions and banal statements like so much teenagery philosophy – it’s just the sort of drivel that gets up my nose.

And so the evening concluded with Jan Vičar who, through a Fullbright/CIES scholar-in residency that enabled him to make his way through eight universities in the States, clearly enjoys his time as Professor at the Department of Musicology if the Philosophical Faculty here in Olomouc. Křik (Cry), his one-movement cantata from 1981 was written in anticipation of the birth of his first child and uses as libretto an anti-modernist poem of the same name by renowned poet Jiří Žáček. Incorporating an accomplished blend of orchestra, baritone and mixed choir, the end product became a conflagration of such astonishing power, intensity and complexity that at its conclusion the 5 trumpeters shook hands in relief. It's just as well that this concert was formally recorded – gotta get me a copy!

Rapturous applause at the end signified the recognition of music excellence, on the part of the composers, the conductor and the musicians. Provincial music may have a bit of a reputation, but that was certainly not in evidence on this night. Allowances were neither requested nor required: this performance could have occurred in the best venues of any of the major capital cities. With such a concert Olomouc, one-time home to Mozart and Mahler, can rightly hold its baroque musical head up!

Birthday Demolition

It's my birthday, the sun is shining and there's decent coffee in my cup. This morning at five o'clock the birds twittered their excited announcement that for them spring has finally sprung and a short while later the good people of Olomouc arose to head off to work a little closer to summer and their holidays. The only fly in the ointment is that the owner of the Dolce Vita coffee shop that I use as an internet café seems to be addicted to Kenny G. All addictions are, by their nature, irrational.

So, as a short post to celebrate/commemorate 46 years since I first squealed into existance, I'd better give a short resumé as to the current circumstances of this birthday baby and what's going on.

Having lived merrily in Hong Kong for the past 15 years, for all sorts of reasons we made our decisions not to continue with employment in the Pearl of the Orient and began arranging a move elsewhere. It's notoriously difficult for British expats to adjust to life back in Blighty and, having endured BBC's The One Show online, we decided that life in the UK just wouldn't be right for us. Or perhaps it was the other way round.

Our current residence in Olomouc came about as a result of the Memsahib's position at Palacký University, a wonderful ancient institution that seeks young go-getters who wish to further their academic excellence within it's august walls. The monetary rewards for such, however, are paltry if not risible. Although living costs in the Czech Republic are comparatively low, to have also paid a rent for accommodation would have meant being thoroughly financially hamstrung. We therefore decided to buy.

The 1910 apartment property we purchased is located beneath the hallowed Saint Wenceslas Cathedral beside a curve in the little river next to the site of the old castle. It is also 2 minutes amble to and from the Mem's work. With old properties, of course, come old problems and the savings knocked off the purchase price have now been swallowed up in a thoroughly modern conversion comprising a new koupelna (bathroom) and kuchyně (kitchen) – they just don't evolve out of the woodwork without some of that precious Czech koruna being thrown about. Thus it was that yesterday we both took a sweat-inducing gulp and coughed up hundreds of thousand of them to our contractor with an extraordinarily powerful handshake, Mr K.

Mr K, not one for wasting any time, decided that today was a good day to begin the work. Thus this morning, our having only just consumed breakfast and completed ablutions, his chaps arrived and quickly removed kitchen units, sink, the bath, tiles and even the walls – all of it! The floor comes up next...

Quite how we're going to get on without these soft modern conveniences remains to be seen. Pictures and commentary will, of course, follow blog-like, but it feels a little like another eagerly anticipated birth, 46 years on. When the apartment is complete it will be easier to work, live, host and entertain there.

So thank you, everyone, for your birthday wishes – I am now older than I ever was and also younger than I will ever be. Na zdraví!

Finding the Detail Underneath

We've been spending the past few weeks going at a snail's pace – this seems to be advisable in the Czech Republic. It's not that the Czechs themselves are slow, far from it. Their approach to business matters, professional service and prompt delivery are as good as anywhere else. No, it's not they who are slow, but us. There is a good reason for this: we have needed time to unwind from Hong Kong. Although we both loved living there, it was a madly frenetic place – even in the Sai Kung Country Park. Stepping away from work and wages, money worries and the commonly held status envy has been as a load lifted and in more ways than we imagined.

I always grumbled that I didn't have enough energy to devote to artistic endeavors, particularly to writing, and the Memsahib felt the need to get away from the Hong Kong academic milieu (or at least the chauvinistic direction in which it appears to be heading). Setting up here, then, should have been a relief and a chance to get busy again. For me the near-opposite has been the case.

It would be the most country of bumpkins that views Olomouc as an exciting and vibrant city. It is cute, picturesque even, but not a thrashing metropolis like Hong Kong. It has medium scale industry on the outskirts, nearby farm land surrounds in all directions and the city centre attracts those with regional financial, shopping and culinary needs (more –much more– on the latter in a later blog). It has wonderful trams that rumble heavily about the cobbled streets wobbling the coffee cups in the many establishments that sell the rich continental kava. Nothing happens on a Saturday or Sunday, unless church-going is high in your top 10 priorities. The rest of the week people shop, students sit about in the park and the town gears itself up for the coming summer touristy season, but Olomouc is and probably always will be a sleepy place.

All of this has meant our lifestyle has drastically changed – and that's been good and necessary. Despite eating lots and quaffing beers a-plenty, we've lost a bit of weight and are probably more chilled than we have been in quite a few years. We certainly have lots of time and have spent it going out to eateries, the odd bar or two and for walks with the dogs through city parks and along muddy riverbanks of the fast-flowing rivers. We've even been able to watch the spring slowly emerge for the first time in 15 years: our life here thus far has also been slow, sleepy and happy. The lovely university where the memsahib is at work does appear to be one of the busier places round these parts with corridors full of constantly chattering and energetic young studenty-types. My busy life, however, revolves around arranging renovation work on our new flat. Oh, and the odd bit of writing.

We've painted a few rooms, with mixed success. Unfortunately, the small steps we brought with us from Hong Kong where they were perfectly adequate for the lower ceilings there are in need of another 3-4 feet. So painting and decorating has taken much longer than it would elsewhere. At least, that's my excuse!

Whilst taking the paint off our bedroom ceiling (sanding/scraping/washing – 2 days and a serious crick in the neck later) I uncovered the Art Nouveau detailing. It appears the original ceiling decoration back in 1910 was a hand-rolled floral motif with wide dark blue border. We had chosen the exact same colour blue for the walls. Spooky! Had I not been taking so much time over this I would have completely missed the detail, something we are seriously thinking of incorporating in the finished room. But then you'll have to come over to stare up at it from the bed...

Across the Rooftops of Olomouc

"I can not wait longer than Thursday noon!" wrote the Palacky University internet specialist in a somewhat urgent email.

Apologising for fairly good English, he arrives and we go by lift to the 6th floor and open the two doors that lead to the loft space, the enormous area that covers the building's two wings. Somewhat open to the elements through nicks in the walls and draughty apertures by the turret (yes, we have a turret), the inspection of roofspace was accompanied by the cooing of doves and shrieking of a family of kestrels that have taken residence.

"I need to go up." he announces, climbing the ladder and opening one of the skylights. Within a second he is out and fearlessly wandering about on the metal sheeting of the roof. "You coming?"

Having recently climbed St Maurice's church tower and encountered my first ever vertigo, I politely declined. Even the few short steps on the ladder that allowed my head to pop into the sky gave me the heebie-geebies. My God! How can he do it? Clambering about as if  there weren't a 100 ft drop to the rather unforgiving pavement beneath – the folly of youth?

Time for a few shots, enclosed.

He then comes down and tells us we need to have access to one of the chimney flues to put in the internet wiring. I think he enjoyed the view and may have enjoyed scaring us a bit.

City in the Snow

The Czech Republic is made up of three distinct parts – Bohemia and Moravia and the slither of land called Silesia. In the past each has been a separate and distinct power waxing and waning until eventually combined into the land of Czechishness we see today. Unless you have lived in the region or have studied WWII history it is unlikely you will have heard of Silesia. Everyone, however, has heard of Bohemia, Bohemians and Bohemianism, whether that's through a fantasy enchantment with the so-called Bohemian lifestyle of artists and performers that eke out a poverty-rich existence in garrets and perform unhappy Gauloises-infused poetry long after midnight in streetside Parisian cafés, or through the Puccini's fantasy opera La Bohème, or even because of Queen's 1975 anthemic Bohemian Rhapsody. Prague is the magnificent and ancient and modern-day capital of Bohemia. Well, we don't live there.

Moravia is the slightly quieter country cousin of the Bohemia occupying most of the eastern half of the country. It is a beautiful land of of gently rolling hills, of deer-filled woodlands, of productive farms with vast open fields. It is famous for producing light aircraft, grapes, beer and guns. Amongst the most famous noteworthies are Sigmund Freud, Gregor Mendel and Oscar Schindler. Another local hero John Comenius (Jan Amos Koménsky over here) is credited with inventing Education proper-like wherewhat kids n' that do lern stuff proply without rote remembrin and that. More on him in another blog.

Enough of this preamble! Our move here from Hong Kong has been somewhat difficult, especially in getting our things from Prague to Olomouc. But, that's also enough for now – another ranty moan of  a blog beckons further down the line...

What has struck the Memsahib and meself about this wonderful place is the quite fantastic atmosphere within its cobbledy old streets and richy decorated and imposing baroque buildings. An overused word, but Olomouc is simply a 'gem'! We have all been on holiday to beautiful places with excellent scenery or architecture, but this city is splendid, rich in history and a joy to roam. don't take our word for it – come and visit! The only distraction from it all has been the bloody weather. All of my winter coats and clothes are in a container held up in Prague, brrrr... (and grrrr..!)

The rest of Europe has suffered snow and frost in this winter like few others. Temperatures may not have been the lowest, but the snowfall has been relatively heavy, particularly in Britain where poor sheep and lambs have been buried alive, and the longevity of the season has quite worn us all out!

Having said all that, the wintryness has added a frosty charm to it all. It has also meant that each hostelry has been fondly visited (like I needed an excuse!) as much for warmth as victuals. Included in that, mention must be made of the Menhir bar, Olomouc's very own Welsh bar tucked away in a particularly quiet square in a particularly quiet part of the old town. Some may think it odd to have a Welsh bar in Moravia and they'd be right! I have yet to decipher a genuine Welsh connection: no-one speaks Welsh there and the owner is as Czesky as the next Welshman not born or raised there and who doesn't speak the beloved language. I have my suspicions that despite a red dragon and the Tengwar-esque name 'Menhir' painted in red on the window, the name simply acts as a resonance for Arthurian mystery and romance, Menhir being the Breton word for standing stone. Another bar in Olomouc is Mithril named after the famous impenetrable armour fashioned by Tolkien's dwarfs. There are also two Irish bars near to us, the Black Stuff that serves lots of Irish Whiskey and Merlin Irish Pub – both of which capitalise on international Irish drinkeyness.

The cold weather has also made us wonder how the drunks, the down-and-outs and the poor survive in such an inclement climate. There are plenty of them here, the local crop popping up in quiet shop doorways and unattended park benches. Those addicted to Bacchus that live in warmer climes such as Thailand, the Philippines and Indonesia simply have to find a dry place to put down their weary heads, their only chill being from a nearby particularly vicious air-conditioning system, but to do likewise here is clearly lethal and may result in frostbite at best. The cold-resistant drunks, therefore, are clearly men and women that deserve respect as true warriors of wine!

We are consistently told by the locals that this winter is very long and spring is near, but I don't know about all that – I think we are entering another Ice Age. And this may not be such a bad place to see it in. Each shop, bar and coffee shop is a warm as toast, enough to forget the inclement temperatures without. In fact, the Czechs expect snow each year and know instinctively how to deal with it – if you're not skiing or sledging on it then the snow-clearing machines are called in to pick it up off the slippery paths and pedestrian ways of Olomouc and summarily down it at the edge of town next to a smelly cabbage field: hey-presto! the local people are able to get to work and their kids to school (attention British people – I have seen these things and can testify to these astonishing miracles!)

The only places that buck the centrally-heated trend are the magnificent churches which are, and I kid you not, actually colder inside than out. Anything other than a very brief touristy trip around these most exquisite and frozen baroque places of worship will result in increasing numbness of toes, fingers, noses, ears and anything else foolishly exposed: it's actually a relief to go back out into the warmer frozen snowy wastes! Perhaps for the more religious locals there's an element of good old-fashioned atonement of sin in wanton exposure to such bone-numbing chill – and there's certainly enough locals popping in for silent prayers at every church we've visited thus far. Perhaps, like good catlics, they enjoy extended periods of misery, whichever way it's served...

As I write, the snow has gone, apart from the resilient patches where abandoned persons of snow have left their lumpy misshapen whiteness as sole testimony to their existence and the effort that created them. This has been an interesting time to acclimatise to Europe. Perhaps we could have awaited the swift's calls, the open windows of summertime and the need for shade under the street-side bar's parasols, but to tell the truth we've enjoyed the cold as a contrast from the intensity of heat and humidity now experienced in Hong Kong, a remedy from 15 years of semi-tropical softiness. What's that you say – more snow? Bring it on!