Praha, Threshold to . . .

Around this time of the year, countless cultural festivals are launched throughout Europe. In Dresden, my work Way of Light was programmed on the first full day of the Dresdner Musikfestspiele. The first day (and last) full day we were in Prague was the beginning of the Prague Spring, the 63rd International Music Festival. Tonight I will see Stockhausen’s Michaels Reise, the first of four contemporary operas and one of dozens of productions of theater, music, and film scheduled during the Wiener Festwochen, which was kicked off on May 9.

But now back to Prague, ah, too short a visit! Instead of being frustrated by not having sufficient time to take in the castle or cathedrals, I decided to lose myself on the tram and walking about, stopping into bookshops and perusing Czech literature, making lists of what I’d like to eventually read, and not being able to resist buying four: May, a poem by Karel Hynek Mácha; Too Loud a Solitude by Bohumil Hraba (also his much more widely known and critically acclaimed novel, I Served the King of England); and Severin’s Journey Into the Dark, by Paul Leppin. Twisted Spoon Press has been active in printing a number of recent translations of Czech writers into English, or of German writers such as Paul Leppin, who spent time in the Czech Republic, and whose book is billed as a ‘Prague ghost story.’ As a lover of ghost stories (there’s even a tour of haunted Prague at night, another reason to return), leaving Prague with this one was a must.

Having visited Prague twice before, I wanted to avoid crowds and look at the city from different vistas, such as the Prague Metronome (broken, alas), high above the city. The first photograph is taken from the garden restaurant of Fish, near the Franz Kafka Museum, overlooking the Vltava River in the direction of Charles Bridge. Swans glided past, along with all manner of boats. Above, a balloon with a chair attached, holding a brave person swayed in the wind (to me this is the experience of nightmares). A few hours later, I met with a composer friend, Zbynek Mateju, prolific and gifted composer specializing in works for film, television, and ballet. As I write this I’m listening to his work for ballet, Ibbur, or A Prague Mystery. Its dynamic, rich textures, often shrouded in evocative, haunting harmonies, are enhanced by the use of musical saw and Tibetan bowls. Zbynek and I are discussing a collaboration---the first time I will do this as a composer, although I collaborate all the time with improvisational projects!

In his cd notes, Zbynek includes a quote from D.Z. Bor that I’d like to share with you, as it captures, as much as two sentences can, the essence of this magnificent city. “I do not know any other city like Prague which attracts the people living in it in such a remarkably magical way, spiritually weathers them and offers them so many places of its troubled past to visit. It looks as if the dead are calling us living to a place where they spent their earthly existence at some time, so that they can whisper that Prague does not bear its name “práh” (threshold) for nothing---that in reality it is the threshold between this and the next world, a threshold which is much narrower than anywhere else.”