Classic Klaus

It's official. All politicians are as kooky as ours. Watch the Czech President, Vaclav Klaus, steal a diamond studded pen at a signing ceremony.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lFPH8rNEQd4

Comedic, diplomatic gold

Cesky Raj

Hi all!

Here are some photos from a day trip hike that I took to Cesky Raj in the Czech Republic. The views were stunning and I ate my weight in deer goulash that night. Good day... GOOD day.

Na shled

N

Spring Break

Hey all,

Here are some pictures from my spring break. I decided to travel on my own to Spain and Ireland. Within the course of ten days, I went to Madrid, Barcelona, and Dublin. Traveling alone is an interesting beast. I thought that I would enjoy it immensely, being the prototypical Smerkanich. However, I must admit, it did get somewhat tiresome having only myself to keep me company. During the days, it was fun to explore on my own but nights were difficult. One thing I have learned is that there is nothing more depressing than eating alone in a restaurant.

Okay, enough of the "herp a derp derp I was lonely" nonsense. I was in Spain and Ireland for Christ's sake! Spain was gorgeous. I had never been and I was not disappointed. Of the two cities, I must admit that I liked Madrid better. It had a great city feel to it while being quintessentially beautiful at the same time. I was able to spend a whole day at the Prado and the Museo Thyssen-Bornemisza. And I would just spend hours lounging and napping in the parks with their beautiful views.

My feet, lounging

To get to Barcelona I took the highspeed train, which was awesome. It was by far the most expensive mode of transportation I took but it was totally worth it. I was in Barcelona in 2 1/2 hours and had an extra half a day to explore. Gaudi's architecture is stunning and the streets have such an open feeling to them. My hostel was somewhat off the beaten path and it had a great homey feel to it. I would call Barcelona the "sexier" of the two cities, I don't know why but there it is. I saw the Picasso museum and scaled the mountain to see the seaside fortress, oh and I had an all you can eat Asian buffet. Oh yes. They lost money on me.

This man knew what was going on.

For you Dad

And then there was Dublin. My god, do I love Ireland. Though there is no part of me that is Irish (that I know of), there is something about the country and the culture that I am in love with. Now I had been there once before, so it was nice to come back and re-explore. The perfect way to wrap up Spring Break. First day, Jameson tour. Second day, Wicklow day trip and a romp around Trinity College. Third day, Dublinia, an amazing Yeats exhibit at the National Library, and yes the Guinness Tour. On the fourth and last day I took the Dart to the fishing village of Howthe. I wish I could have stayed longer to do the hike around the whole cliffs but I wasn't prepared so I just had a quick look in the village and of course the local pub. My last night in Dublin was one of the best nights I have had on this trip. My friend met me that night and we spent the last of our Euros in the nosiest pubs in the Temple Bar district. By the end of the night we had sung at the top of our lungs the quintessential American and Irish playlist and we certainly spent the last of our euros.

I want to live in Ireland. That is the long and short of it. If I could act in Masterpiece Theatre Drama series and live in Ireland, I'd be a very happy man. And yes, I have a great great appreciation for Czech beer now, but there is something about Guinness that is indescribably wonderful. Maybe because it is a meal within itself, who knows. Oh and being able to speak the primary language of the city and country I was in was simply wonderful. I do miss just to be able to order a meal or ask for something without fearing a total failure in communication.

The best Irish coffee in my life. John Jameson for sainthood!

My first Guinness of the trip.

The remains of it.

They say if you hug that cross and get your fingers to touch then it is good luck. Well, last time I did that, let's just say I say I saw what an Irish emergency room looked like at a midnight on a Friday night. NOT THIS TIME IRELAND! :)

Ah, the mad-cap times at Dublinia!

Need I say more?

A view from Howthe.

That about sums up my Spring Break, my last Spring Break I just realized. It was an amazing experience to travel totally on my own and to plan the whole thing on my own. I hope you enjoy the photos!

Best,

N

Hey friends

Hi all,

I am sorry for going on a lengthy hiatus from the blog. Midterms and a busy Spring break happened so I will take the next few days to do a few posts on what has happened since Berlin, which seems so long ago now.

Anyway, the weather is absolutely stunning in Prague right now. I am always amazed by the difference that daylight savings makes, which was this past weekend for us and thank god I was not traveling that day. Some flights would definitely have been missed.

My trip after Berlin was to Vienna, Austria. What an absolutely gorgeous city with an amazing history. We did our tourist obligation and visited the Hofburg Palace and saw the entire Habsburg silverware collection. And oi, in case you are wondering, there is such a thing as too much silverware.

Vienna is an amazing museum town and we saw the amazing Flemish painter collection at the National Gallery. I was especially excited to see some famous works by Hans Holbein, court painter of Henry VIII. The painting in particular was his portrait of Jane Seymour, third wife of Henry. And also some amazing Rembrandt's hung on the wall.

After viewing that collection, we were sitting and eating a quick lunch in the park and an Austrian man overheard our English. He asked us a few questions about the grammar of a few lines of a play he was currently in dress rehearsal for. As we were leaving we said "oh we'd love to see but unfortunately we leave tomorrow," thinking that it would be left at that. But he invited us to one of the dress rehearsals and we certainly could not refuse. Lets just say the play was Richard III meets Columbine, half in German and English. And set to movement. It was an interesting experience to say the least, but totally worthwhile.

That night we saw Beethoven's Violin Concerto performed by the Austrian Philharmonic and it was simply wonderful. It was the epitome of professionalism and music. That's all I can really say because I have a pretty untrained ear at classical music. But I certainly appreciated the amazing quality.

We also say the Secession Museum, which house Gustav Klimt's famous Beethoven's Frieze. It was a shame that we could take no pictures but it did create a certain temple like quality in the building. A definite must-see, because Klimt's work is so interpretive and precise that you can't help but be in awe.

Well, that's it for now. But I will write again soon to talk of further adventures.

Best,

N

On Tumblr

Hey all!

I just got on Tumblr as well. I still really don't understand how it works but here's a link nonetheless with some pictures and thoughts! http://nsmerk.tumblr.com/

N

Berlin Trip 2/3/11 to 2/7/11

Sorry it has been a while, but here is a compilation of some of the pictures taken during my recent trip to Berlin.

Enjoy!

N

The Ballet

Saturday night I saw my first ballet. The opera house was stunningly beautiful and was the perfect space in which to see Swan Lake.

To be quite honest, the opera house reminded me of some sort of heavenly space and the stage truly became a twilight zone. Yes, this borders on hyperbole but the golden ceilings and the beautifully crafted boxes speak of something transcendent. I know that I am being brought up in a studio training that teaches that any space is a valid performance space. Per Peter Brook and Ngugi Wa Thiongo, there is no such thing as an empty space. And yet, it is always refreshing to appreciate the ostentation of past theatremakers. I felt like a kid again, aching to be onstage and also just play in the orchestra pit. Moments like these remind me why I want to do this for the rest of my life.

Needless to say, I was very excited to see my first ballet, let alone Swan Lake. There was an authentic anticipation for the performance in the theatre, which was something that haven't felt in a long time. And then it began.

Ballet is a bizarre art form. It is truly bizarre. The dancers glide across the stage with a fluid grace that is truly a pleasure to watch. Then they move within these statuesque poses that illustrate the intensity of their training. What is so bizarre is that watching a ballet is watching the destruction of the human body in a very strict form. These dancers have trained in such a rigid form that their bodies will permanently be altered. Bad knees. Arthritis. Torn ligaments. We applaud these impossible dance moves because anyone in their right mind would never put their body through such extensive harm on a daily basis.

And so much of Swan Lake, is one group of dancers after another showing off variations of what they can do. This being my first ballet, I was surprised by how little the dance forwarded the story.The story was a mere excuse for these people to get up and show off to one another (put crudely). All emotion was symbolized in simple, cliched gesture while all else was a whirlwind of beautiful and complicated movement. I guess what really triggered all these thoughts was the moment the cast bowed. Yes, I will clap for them. But in all honesty, what am I applauding? A group of dedicated dancers who have spent their lives learning a physically destructive dance form that only a select few can "excel" in? Am I applauding the fact that these people can dance a form that I will never be to? Am I applauding my own inability? What irked me then was the three to four curtain calls. I felt that after the first one, we were just applauding the tradition of ballet rather than the strength of the just seen performance. The beauty of the actual theatre locked us into the tradition of the piece.

What do I applaud: the tradition of the performance or the nature of the performance itself? Or both? That is what was so interesting about the ballet. It can confuse and redirect the audience's attention. It can give us mediocre rendition of a story and yet amaze us with its physically strenuous and destructive dance form. A dance of destruction on a transcendent stage (oof). Why do they bow in the middle of the piece, after each dance? The fourth wall is constantly broken and yet we are expected to appreciate its nature. I've not been taught to stop for a bow after each beat in a scene or after each verse in a song. We judge a piece on its continuity as a whole rather than on each section.

This isn't meant to be a scathing attack on ballet as an artform. And in the end who am I to say any of this? But it has made me question what I applaud for at the end of a piece. Lets do it, I am going to make a sweeping generalization (wouldn't be the first time). I have come to believe that all art in some way or another, is a form of storytelling. And yet, I see ballet as a form at war with itself. The movement means more than the progression of the story. We are "supposed" to appreciate the perfection of the movement. One could argue that perfection is transcendent......... whooooooaaaa I need to stop this. Shut it down. SHUTTING DOWN

All said and done, I want to go again and again! I love inexpensive theatre seats!

Best,

N

1/31/11

Dobry den,

I have to say that this past Saturday was the classiest day of my life. It consisted of a Czech cubism exhibit, a lamb meal, and a night at the ballet. But even before all that, here are some pictures I took from a walk earlier that day:

The cubism exhibit was very beautiful. I don't know how to explain it other than with some photos my roommate took. Usually when I look at the intensely popular cubism of Picasso (for instance), I see a style and a hint of an emotional backstory. There is no question about the genius of his work, but I often just get lost in thinking "oh wow, these are shapes, these look like something else." Elegant criticism, no? But I guess I needed a different lens through which to view other cubist art. In the pieces at the Black Madonna House (a testament to cubism architecture itself), I saw a vivid emotion in all the pieces that reminded me of the frenzied strokes of a Turner piece (two totally different styles I know, but still I could sense a longing in each piece). The composition of colors spoke of a nostalgia and loss. But enough of my blabbing, I'll let the photos speak for themselves.

My next post is going to be about the ballet. I hope all is well with all you out there!

And HAPPY ANNIVERSARY MOM AND DAD!!!

N