Rhythm of Life Ad

I wouldn't normally link to video of a commercial, but this one is exceptional and isn't showing in the U.S. Link to the explanation page. Link to the QuickTime video. (It'll take time to download, but it's worth it.)

A trip to the ballet

Last Monday night, my class and I went to see the ballet Giselle at the Vienna Opera. The choreography was stunning. The athleticism and grace of not only the leads, but of the supporting dancers as well, was enough to keep me awake during a snoozer of a story and banal music. The one compelling moment was when Giselle goes mad. The dancer playing Giselle, whose name I never learned, proved herself an able actress. Unfortunately, the entire second half consisted of the following dialogue acted out in pantomime:

"I'm the queen of the dead. I'm dead. I'm dead. I'm dead."
Chorus: "She's dead. Oh yeah. Dead. Dead. And we're dead, too."
"I'm DEEEEEAAAAAD!"
"She's dead and she's a queen."
"I'm dead and I'm a queen."
Applause

Prince: "My lover's dead and I miss her."
Giselle: "I'm dead and I miss you, too."
"Hey, I still wanna be together."
"Me, too. I'll ask the queen."
Queen: "Nope."
Applause

Prince: "I wanna be together."
Giselle: "I wanna be together."
"We wanna be together. We wanna be together. Hey, let's ask the queen."
Queen: "Nope."
Applause

Dead maiden: "They wanna be together."
Dead maiden #2: "They wanna be together."
Applause

"We wanna be together. We wanna be together. Hey, let's ask the queen."
Queen: "Nope."
Applause

"Goodbye. Goodbye. Goodbye. Goodbye. We wanna be together. Goodbye."
Applause

That took about an hour.

We were in the standing section which has velvet covered rails that you can lean against during the performance. Our usher must have been assigned to the cheap section (3.50 euro for the show) because of his lack of understanding of the concept of customer service. He forced us to take all of our coats and bags to the coat check, ferreting out hidden bags. He made us mark our places with scarves, but NOT ON THE TOP RAIL, obsessively removing items from the top rail throughout the night. A jacket had been left on a middle rail and he harassed someone in a completely different row about it so much that the man, after telling the usher three times that it wasn't his and he didn't know who owned it, stormed out mid-performance. The usher watched that jacket after the performance, waiting for the owner to return.

Pictures

I've spent all of today posting pictures on Flickr so please go check them out. Here a few of my favorites:

The metro Highlander seen here and here. Perhaps Prague never bothered to make carrying a sword illegal?

Karlskirche at night.

The Urania theater at night. (Where I saw "Leaving Home, Coming Home".)

The Schullin jewelery store by Hans Hollein on its own and mobbed by students.

That's all for now. I might feel like saying something tomorrow. :)

It's been a fun few days

Saturday I was in Letna Stadium watching soccer team A.C. Sparta kick the crap out of F.C. Chmel Blsany, another Czech team. By a fluke, because I certainly didn't know what I was doing, I ended up with a great seat just left of centerfield. (I was so close that when #17 on the other team was kicked in the ankle and went down, I heard it.) A cultural highlight: there were a couple of chants in English, "Let's go, Sparta, let's go!" (or what sounded like "Lis go Sparrta lis go!") and "Fight! Fight! Fightfightfight!" Also, the poor Eurotel (cell phone company) cheerleaders must have been freezing in their bikini tops and super short skirts. I was wearing long underwear, jeans, an undershirt, a wool sweater, a heavy jacket, and woolen hat and scarf. I would have liked gloves, too, but I haven't found any I want, yet.

Sparta played brilliantly, or at least I was really impressed. The other team, though, would get the ball and then pass it way down field to... no one. An empty spot, usually. They did manage to score 2 to Sparta's 5, so that's something. It should be exciting to watch them against Slavia, a team more in their league, I hear.

Vienna! I love it! If I spoke German this city would be on the short list of where I want to move to. I'll post pictures once I get back to Prague. There's so much that it would take a very long time to tell it all, so I'll stick to Viennale, the film festival going on now until October 26th. Last night, I decided to see a documentary that I knew nothing about (my criteria was that it be in English) called, Leaving Home, Coming Home. Directed by Gerald Fox, it was about a photographer that I'd never heard of, named Robert Frank. (And, despite my own history with photography, I had never seen any of the work shown in the film.) The quirk about this film is that Mr. Frank has stipulated that it may only be shown twice a year (partly why I was the sixth person to rate it on it IMDB.com), so because it was shown in Rotterdam earlier this year, no one else will see it until next year. This is a shame, obviously, because it shows the vulnerability of being an artist and dealing with the life through one's work. (It also shows his crazy artist wife June Leaf. How much fun to be a crazy artist.)

Time to get in line to get tickets for tonight's film. :)

One woman's daily record of how she looks while driving to work.

I came across this while adding Raleigh restaurants to CafeSpot.net.

Concerts, views, and football

A week ago tonight I was at the square in front of Malostranka metro station attending a benefit concert the Czechs held for the victims of Hurricane Katrina. Their generosity and the futility of their effort was crushing. I had to fight not to cry.

I say futile because the Czechs are not rich. The girl who works at the tea house downstairs makes about $300 a month. For them to put together a slick, televised concert, featuring at least 15 acts and two projection screens and a transatlantic live linkup with a correspondent in New York (why New York?) and a special SMS number to call to donate money, was staggering. Not because they aren't capable of it, but because they felt it was a necessary thing to do.

When I arrived, they had already collected 500,000 crowns (about $20,000) and when I left an hour and a half later the final amount was 3.1 million crowns ($126,000). Of course the money will help, but will the Czechs receive an adequate thank you from the American public or acknowledgment from the government? I doubt it. This is what bothered me as I stood watching the stage and the crowd.

In contrast, last Sunday was a fabulous day. Nothing amazing happened, it was just a great day to be out around the city. There's a large park, close to my hotel in Vinohrady, that has a view of all of Old Town and the Castle, that I visited for the first time. In the afternoon, I spent hours in the Museum of Decorative Arts looking through the display drawers, then went on a quick tour of the Jewish Museum sites. Really, I only wanted to go to the Jewish cemetery, but the ticket is 140 crowns (student price) for 6 sites so I made sure to see them all.

I went back to the same park to watch the sunset over the city. Unfortunately, (and being in architecture school you would think this would have occurred to me) the view faces west towards the city which means the setting sun is right in your face. The park was lively, though. There was a concert in the beer garden featuring a heavy horn section. Later, a stilt troupe accompanied by an accordianist, performed a series of dance skits complete with acrobatics.

And then I took myself to dinner and a movie. :) Goal! was the only English language movie that sounded interesting and I admit that I didn't believe the girl when she told me it was American. How could a soccer movie be American? But it was okay. A 7 out of 10 in retrospect, but fun just for it being a movie. Oh! And for the first time ever I was the only person in the theatre! I was so excited. Here, though, the usher sits in a chair by the side of the screen, I guess in case anyone needs them during the film, so part way in, I was no longer alone. Ah, but what a nice few minutes before that.

Seeing this movie reminded me that I'm in the land of football. Sparta Praha is the major club here in Prague and when I checked their schedule for the next couple of weeks I saw that they're playing Arsenal on the 18th of October. This is not just any British club, but the only club I am at all familiar with, thanks to Nick Hornby's obsession as he spelled it out in Fever Pitch. The downside? Our class leaves for Vienna, Austria on Sunday (the 16th) and doesn't get back until Thursday (the 20th). Ugh. *shrug* The other big game is between the two rival Prague teams, Sparta and Slavia, called the Derby, on the 23rd, so at least I'll get to see that.

It may be quiet around here this next week. Vienna has internet cafes of course, but our schedule is crazy tight, I may not have time to post.

112

This morning I walked into Old Town from Vinohrady a slightly different way than I have before, like usual. It's a beautiful day, nippy and bright, at that temperature where my hands and face are cold but I'm sweating under all the corduroy and wool. I walked by the National Museum and the equestrian statue of St. Wenceslas on Wenceslas Square, dodging people as I looked at facades.

As I passed a flower stand, I heard what was obviously two vehicles colliding hard, on the other side of the kiosk. I ran to see if anyone needed help. On the cobblestones, crumpled, unconcious, with blood flowing out of his slack mouth lay a man in a half-helmet. Above him was his scooter, beside him the expensive car that hit him, behind him the bald man in a suit, around him five or six people trying to help.

Not five minutes before, when a bare-chested man with a potbelly, wearing an open nylon jacket and carrying a screwdriver, came out of a building and passed me suddenly, I had had a grisly daydream about what I would have done if he were deranged and stabbed me in the stomach with a knife. I'm not sure why, but I often have worst-case scenario daydreams that result in my needing to call 911. Except here 911 is 112, something I reminded myself in the daydream.

So imagine me on my cell phone urgently repeating, "Anglicsky?" to the dispatcher. It took two minutes to speak to someone who speaks English. Luckily there was at least one other man who called at the same time, who, I'm sure spoke Czech. Finally, the dispatcher who understood me and my discription asked if anyone else was there who spoke Czech and I handed the phone off, something I should have done to begin with, but I don't think clearly when I'm panicky.

In the meantime, the man had regained conciousness and kept trying to sit up, which we all tried to prevent him from doing because of the possiblity of a neck injury. Eventually, though, two minutes before the ambulance got there, he got up and was helped to sit on the curb. The right side of his face was a bloody mass, but the silly half-helmet probably did save his life. The ambulance took an agonizing 15 minutes to arrive.

And yes, I ride a scooter, and yes it's a fragile position to be in. But I wear a full-face helmet, which would have prevented the worst of his (visible) injuries. Also, the scooter riders and drivers here are crazy, so I don't think it translates to Raleigh.

We're better than this

That the freely elected democratic government we support allows this should shame us all.

Two posts in one day? What is the world coming to?

I saw this article about stereotypes and had to quote from it:

"Czechs thought of their nationality as antagonistic and disagreeable, when the research found them to be among the friendliest of all cultures."

Olya (aka Brunhilda) is an unfortunate exception.

The opera Monday night was wonderful. I had seen La Traviata and one other one that I've forgotten, but this was the first time that I truly enjoyed an opera. Now I've got to add Smetana to my music collection. I'll post pictures of the main hall of the National Theatre at some point.

Last weekend, I visited the former Trades Fair Palace, which is now a modern art museum. It was certainly interesting to see Czech art from throughout the 20th century in response to the various cultural and political upheavals. The common theme was a heavy sadness, often counterpointed by an almost hysterical lightheartedness.

I discovered a cheap and well designed pub near my dorm, called Redneck. The only clue that it exists is a Staropramen sign above a door that leads into a basement. I eat all of my meals alone and, I know this is selfish, I don't want my classmates to find out about it. They can continue eating at Don Pepe and McDonald's and Victor Prodleff which exist for the fast food inclined. The floors are slate, the walls are exposed brick and white stucco, the barrel vault ceilings are dark concrete supported by exposed black steel, the light fixtures are all stainless-steel grates, and the furniture, built-in benches supported by black steel tubes and tables, are deep red, as are the door frames. There is a single pane of textured, frosted glass in the doors.

For 170 crowns ($6.94), including tip, I have two large glasses of wine and a full entree. They also have a giant plasma-screen TV connected to a videogame console of some type, that a couple of guys were playing a car-racing game on the first time I went in. When the TV isn't on, the music selection is always random and entertaining. I should go there every night, but for both health and monetary reasons, I'm off to The Country Life, a vegan buffet that's REALLY good.

Once again I'm late to the party

To prove exactly how much I've been working in studio this semester, let me tell you about what I've been researching: Web 2.0. Okay, that's a terrible buzz word that does not provide any information. Basically, the internet seems to be transforming into a series of software applications that 1) ease social interaction and 2) are completely internet based, meaning that it may be possible, quite soon, not to need software on a single computer located in a specific location, but to use applications at specific websites, that can be accessed from any computer with internet access. The recent Google and Sun Microsystems announcement that they're partnering to make OpenOffice.org a fully web-based program is an example. OpenOffice is currently my favorite free open source word processing/spreadsheet/presentation software. Open source means a lot of things, but here it refers to the fact that programmers volunteer to work on this program and the code is available to the public for viewing and editing. Microsoft is not open source. (By the way, Sun calls this the Participation Age, which is a better description of the current web developments, but still not great.)

Amazing things are happening with websites that allow the users to add information. If you've followed any of my past links, then you're familiar with Wikipedia, an open source encyclopedia that anyone can edit. There are debates about whether this is a good model or not, but it is certainly democratic.

A site that I have been watching recently, called eHub, lists websites that fit these new models. Today, I was looking through some past posts on her site and found Etsy, a site where you can buy and sell handmade items. And this is damn cool. Or how about Pooln carpool network, or LibraryThing where you can list books that you've read and browse other lists. What is the point to all of these? I don't know, yet, but they seem to be going in a positive and useful direction.

Smetana the composer

Changed the photo situation again. After playing with Flickr for several days, I decided to switch. It's more flexible and informative.

Also, I have Gmail invites burning a hole in my account, so if you want one, shoot me a request.

Yesterday, in preparation for tonight's trip to the opera at the National Theatre (to see The Bartered Bride, sounds good already, huh?), I went to the Bedrich Smetana Museum right on the Vlatava River. The Vlatava was the subject of one of the (many) symphonic poems he wrote after he became deaf--from syphilis, a bit of information they left out at the Museum.

Tidbits

Two weeks ago I learned to roll my R's. I was so excited that I called my brother to prove it. I giggled every time I did it, for days. I think I read somewhere (I'd link to it, but I can't find it) that if you don't learn how by a certain age that the odds are stacked against you. But thanks to L. telling me that her Spanish teacher said to practice with the word "Pedro," I am now one of the initiated. Thankfully, I didn't try to learn fromWikiHow's method which is missing some information between steps 4 and 5. Unfortunately, making a rolled r sound doesn't mean that I can combine it with other sounds, so I still can't pronounce Czech.

Last Saturday was some festival to do with Karel IV (aka Charles IV the Holy Roman Emperor). Every square in the city had people in Medieval and Renaissance garb reading proclamations, selling crafts at booths, jousting on liveried horses, drinking honey wine, etc. They were mini-renfairs, but instead of being kitschy and imagined, this was celebrating their actual history. They have a castle here. They had an Emperor. 10 centuries of architecture are represented in the city (now, 11, I guess).

Last Sunday, I located the NYU hive. I hadn't intended to. I was sketching the Brahe/Kepler statue behind the castle and noticed that several of the guys walking towards a residential area were Americans. (And not the kind who would explore a residential area.) And then I saw that girl from Tesco get on a tram with a guy. So I wandered around back in that neighborhood until I was certain that the grey building that curves the corner (the one with people coming and going at intervals comparable to an anthill) was theirs. Then later in the week, our class was on a field trip, again behind the castle, and we met another professor, who knew our professor, and three NYU students also studying architecture.

I walked up to the Metronome on Thursday. From there, the babies on the TV tower look like insects (again with the ants. This must be a thing with me, but I like ants, so I don't get it).