"......Be what it is, The Action of my life is like it, which I'll keep if but for sympathy."

Showing posts with label Jaromír Hanzlík. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jaromír Hanzlík. Show all posts
Saturday, 7 July 2018
The Offering
For you and only for you, the ones present, the audience.
I witnessed him looking in the round, as if he had just woken up from a dream, a vision and miraculously he had been able to share it with everybody.
Eternally grateful
Friday, 16 February 2018
The Dynamics of What is Actually Happening
Though the gesture might be simple, yet depicting it might be a challenge.
Just like the complex motion when Hans returns to Krista after he had been pleading for his life and she had let him go. There he stands ready to take on the guilt and ready to take her revenge and by letting her hit him he becomes what he proclaims in the end - innocent.
And many happy returns of this day ringing out to Czechia...
Just like the complex motion when Hans returns to Krista after he had been pleading for his life and she had let him go. There he stands ready to take on the guilt and ready to take her revenge and by letting her hit him he becomes what he proclaims in the end - innocent.
And many happy returns of this day ringing out to Czechia...
Wednesday, 17 January 2018
Wondering
Watching the taping of Cyrano z Bergeracu, what makes me really wonder is the reaction of the audience at the end, which is generally calm, though there are some agitated faces to be seen. I'm generally a shy person, but if I had had the heart and had been there, I certainly would have considered to make an exhibition of myself wildly whistling and yelling at this effort.
Well, at least I've seen people doing this, but then those were actors themselves, I presume from judging the way they almost came too late for the performance and the way they half leaned on the balustrade like they owned the place, which happened to be the Swan Theatre in Stratford-upon-Avon. Love is My Sin!
Well, at least I've seen people doing this, but then those were actors themselves, I presume from judging the way they almost came too late for the performance and the way they half leaned on the balustrade like they owned the place, which happened to be the Swan Theatre in Stratford-upon-Avon. Love is My Sin!
WTF - To Hell With Pathos For This is Life
So I've treated myself with the help of a Finn residing in Prague.
Was ich an diesem Cyrano liebe und warum ich am Ende weinen mußte: Tatsächlich ist er hier als Künstler dargestellt. Und das wird mir am deutlichsten in der Schlußszene, wo er sich fast im Streit von Roxane trennt, weil diese ihn als Autor der Briefe erkennt und in ihm ihren Geliebten sieht. Er streitet sehr energisch ab und dies zu recht, denn die Briefe sind Ergebnis der unerwiderten Liebe und nur so bekam er die Möglichkeit diese Gefühle zu sublimieren. Und dann bleibt er Sieger, auch im letzten Kampf mit dem Tod, denn er hat sich nie seinen Feinden, z B der Dummheit oder Feigheit ergeben. Und dann fließen die Tränen, weil es schön ist und nicht weil es traurig ist.
PS: Und dann ist da noch die unglaubliche Freude und besoffene Beklopptheit der Verliebtheit und das Brechen des Herzens, aus dem die Poesie hervorbricht. Und die Derbheit und Kühnheit des erfahrenen Duellisten.
What I like about this Cyrano and why I had to cry in the end: He is actually portrayed as an artist here. And this became very obviuos for me in the final scene, when he almost breaks up with Roxane arguing with her because she recognizing him as the author of the love letters sees him as her true lover. He will have nothing of this, for he knows that probably oly his unrequited love for her brought forth these letters, he was given the chance to sublimate his feelings for her. And even further he remains the victor, even in his final battle with death, since he never gave in to his enemies, among which stupidity and cowardice. And this is the moment (my) tears start flowing, for it is so beautiful and not sad at all.
PS: And then there is the unbelievable joy and drunken insanity of infatuation and the breaking of the heart, from which the poetry bursts out. And the bawdiness and daring of the experienced duelist.
My notes on the DVD of the production of Cyrano de Bergerac at the Divadlo na Vinohradech in Prague, 1986
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