We visit Prague and Moscow
 THEATRE: While in Berlin we were taken to see a current
production of The Caucasian Chalk Circle in Potsdam. Chalk Circle had
not been produced by the Berliner Ensemble after its very first
production in Germany, in the early fifties. That production had had a
run of some 400 odd shows.
That was the production which Helena Weigel referred to when we met
and said that their Grusche was 54 years old! We were sent to Potsdam,
about 60 km. away from Berlin, in a Ministry vehicle. Only two of us
travelled to Potsdam. Dick Stolt did not accompany us - we did not need
an interpreter for Chalk Circle.
The particular production had used a lot of masks for most of the
characters. Even Grusche was wearing a mask - a mask with a sort of
simpleton expression. All the members of the royal family also wore
masks.
So until the end of the play we saw only one expression in all the
main characters such as Grusche, Simon Sashawa, Georgi Abashwilli,
Natella Abashwilli, Byzaran Kazbeki and even the Iron Shirts.
I thought that they had overdone the ‘mask thing’. I would have very
much preferred to see the faces of the actors and their changes of
expression.
In our own production we did NOT use any masks but we used a
mask-like make up for all the Royal characters and the Iron Shirts so
that their faces would be free for any change of expression. If our Sri
Lankan audiences had seen the Potsdam production, I am sure they would
have preferred our own one.
That was more or less our last outing in East Berlin. We had an
extended invitation to Czechoslovakia arranged by the Czech Embassy
here. The then First Secretary of the Czech Embassy, Joseph Kollinsky
was responsible, for that part of our tour. “You come so close to our
country.
We can’t let you come back without visiting our country...”, said
Kollinsky emphatically. From East Berlin to Prague we made the journey
by train. Mrs Huber, Abey Gunapala and some of our other friends came to
the railway station to wish us goodbye.
That is a train journey that I will never forget and Manel enjoyed it
to the utmost. The train was very comfortable and it had all kinds of
amenities. It was a long journey of about eight hours.
No sooner we had put our luggage etc on the upper rack and settled
down in the very comfortable seats, a smart steward dressed in a blue
and maroon uniform came to us and asked what time we would be taking
lunch. “About one’clock”, said Manel like a real old pro.
“Madam here is our menu for the day. Your table at the dining
carriage has already been reserved. Please choose your fare and let me
know. I will be back in fifteen minutes”, said the steward bowing low
and offering Manel, the day’s menu printed in ornate paper.
Train ride
“This is like home!” she said as soon as she settled down in her
seat. I thought that was a nice way to put it. It WAS like home - so
comfortable. The train ride reminded us of the good old train rides to
Badulla, Bandarawela, Matara, Batticaloa, Trinco, Jaffna etc. in our own
Ceylon in the good old days.
This was far more comfortable even more than those train journeys.
Anyway we DID have a decent train service long years back which has gone
to rack and ruin over the last so many ‘progressive’ years! Even our
passports were treated with RESPECT all over the world.
“Oh you are from Ceylon! Beautiful tea country! Oh yes, we know
Ceylon. Country of the very first woman Prime Minister - Madam
Bandaranaike..!” The customs men would always make such friendly remarks
and pass us on like Royalty.
Thanks to the ethnic conflict and so many rascals with all kinds of
underworld activities such as drug dealing and gun running travelling
all over the world with dubious passports, our reputation NOW has come
down to below zero!
When the steward offered the menu to Manel, she thanked him in German
and the Steward smiled and said, “Madam don’t forget that your
destination is Prague , in Czechoslovakia.”
“Don’t worry,” said Manel mischievously. “I already know how to say
‘thank you’ in the Czech language too!” The man bowed again and left.
“Be careful what you say.” I chided Manel.
“If you say the wrong thing at the Czech border, they will keep you
back and send me to Prague alone!” “You have a hope!” Said Manel
settling down even more comfortably in her seat and tightening the warm
over coat around her.
Pastoral play
The view from the train all the way to Prague was very interesting
for us. Although it was March already the snow was still persistent all
over the place. This was Manel’s ‘first snow’ and she enjoyed it
thoroughly.
One of the finest moments in our trip to Prague was meeting our own
Solomon Fonseka the moment we disembarked from the train at the Prague
central railway station.
Solomon was a boy who had been offered a scholarship to
Czechoslovakia to study the art of mime, make up, stage set and costume
making and other aspects of Theatre about one year before our arrival
there. He had shown his ample talents playing the part of the lovable
Nariya in Dayananda Gunawardhana’s gem of a production of ‘Nari Bena’.
Later he played the part of young and mischievous ‘Sindu’ in my
production of the pastoral play ‘Tavat Udesanak’ and graduated to
playing the part of the Narrator in ‘Kuveni’.
He was also in charge of the make-up work in Kuveni. Solomon was a
boy who had either lost or separated from his parents very early in life
and he was very fond of elders who treated him like a son.
Manel and I were very fond of him and we treated him like our own
child. He used to call Manel Mama and me as Papa. He hugged both of us
tearfully at the station and worshipped us like a child. We could hardly
hold our own tears back. Solomon was being tutored by that great Mime
Artiste, Filaka, of Czechoslovakia at that time.
We were also introduced to Filaka by Solomon and the very next year -
in 1969 we, The Actors group, were able to invite the great Fialka and
his band of Mimers to Ceylon with the sponsorship of the Ceylon Evening
Observer. They performed to packed houses in Colombo, Kandy and Galle.
The Actors group was their hosts.
Fortunately for us the Czech Ministry of Cultural Affairs had
assigned Solomon as our interpreter throughout our stay in
Czechoslovakia and we were delighted. By now, after about one year in
that country, he could speak the Czech language quite fluently.
Throughout our various meetings, interviews and visits to the
Theatre, Solomon Fonseka was our interpreter and he did a superb job of
it. I remember one evening he took us to a very special bar in Prague
where they served a very unusual kind of black beer. It tasted rather
like stout, but was far more potent!
Curious city
Prague itself was a very curious city. In fact I would hate to call
it a ‘City’.It was more like one of those medieval mythical abodes from
which a Lancelot on horse back, a Romeo, a Juliet or even a Prospero
could emerge at any moment. It had sword wielding statues of ancient
soldiers right in the middle of the square.
There were many other statues and bronze statues and bronze fences
greened with age. In the midst of all this were green coloured vintage
tramcars with their tinkling bells running right across the city.
If it were not for the presence of sweet perfume emanating from
smartly dressed young women walking the streets in high-heeled shoes,
the news stands and sellers of buttons and all kinds of other knick
knack on the pavements, one could easily have imagined this was the
London of Dick Whittington! We were taken on long sight-seeing tours,
stopping at regular rest bases.
All this had a charming quaint old quality about it. We were given
interviews with the Ministry of Culture and introduced to many artistes,
playwrights and poets. In short we were given a red carpet welcome and
stay - sans the red carpet!
We set back for home soon after. We broke journey in Moscow. Breck
was no longer there but my good friends Gerry Gunasekera and Ananda
Tillekeratne were still there. Gerry had kindly offered to put us up in
his home. We spent a very nice week or so in Moscow.
I visited the Writers Union and introduced Manel to my old friend
Miriam Salgenik - the secretary to the Writers Union. I also took her to
the hotel I stayed in - Hotel Budapest - and also to our Embassy in
Shepkina Street.
We had a round of invitations for dinner from the Embassy staff. Some
of them also took us sight seeing. Manel was surprised when I spoke in
Russian to some of my friends in Moscow.
I was happy to give her that surprise. With the help of the Embassy I
managed to take her for a performance at the Bolshoi Ballet Theatre. The
production was Gissele - if I remember right.
Moscovites, specially the ones of lower order, hardly change their
jobs. I suppose they are happy with what they have. When I visited
Budapest Hotel, the girl manning the bookshop cum stamps counter was
still in the same place. And most of the stewards and stewardesses in
the hotel were also there.
Even the Babushkas in charge of each floor and the room attendants
were all mostly there. The girl at the bookshop looked at me through her
thick glasses and recognized me immediately.
“Have you come here to study again?” She asked me in Russian. “No
such luck.” I answered her. “I am here on my way home from Berlin and
Prague.” “You have not changed one bit for the last four years.” I told
her. “I have changed my glasses.” She said and smiled.
This was a very nice experience for Manel. The ice was just melting
in Moscow. One has to be extremely careful at such times. One could
easily slip and have a fall. I had just warned Manel, when I slipped and
fell rather nastily.
We were on a sight seeing and shopping spree with Gerry’s wife
Florrie and Ananda’s wife Ranjanie when this happened. “Serves him
right!” said the ever laughing Ranjanie. “Serves him right for trying to
show off!”
Thought of the week
Female athlete Jani Chaturangi de Silva must be a very unhappy young
woman. Whether she is guilty of taking a banned drug, only she will
know. But the way the case has been handled by the related authorities
both here and abroad is appalling. One day she is found ‘guilty’ and
sentence passed on her.
The next day she is exonerated and freed of all charges. Then again a
World Body of ‘experts’ wants a retrial of the whole sorry mess. What
kind of justice is this? Why should a human being - a promising young
athlete at that - be treated in this maniacal manner?
Just imagine it happens to YOUR child. What would your reaction be if
it were so? I recall this kind of harassment happened to our Sprint
Queen Susanthika Jayasinghe too some years back. The poor woman had to
hibernate in solitude until the ‘pundits’ delivered their erratic
judgement.
Fortunately Susanthika came through the ordeal - although not totally
unscathed. I don’t know if Jani is also made of such stern stuff as
Susanthika is. Will she be fit in mind and body to continue with her
athletic career after all this unholy hassle?
Either they must make these tests absolutely fool proof or abandon
the darned thing. On the other hand if everybody chooses to take the
performance enhancing drug, then everybody will be ‘equal’. With this
kind of lackadaisical attitude some will be equal and others will be
‘more equal’ than the others!
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