News

Brian Rose: Trip to Prague and
Olomouc, the Czech Republic

I left Amsterdam for Prague on September 9th, 2002 to participate in my second Vigil-related event this year. Previously, I traveled to Washington, D.C. with Ina May Wool to take part in a panel discussion at the Goethe Institute about how artists are responding to September 11th. Once again I was wearing two hats. My photographs of the WTC were to be exhibited at a museum in Olomouc in the Czech Republic, and I would also be talking about Vigil and performing my song “The Landscape” at the exhibit opening.

Arriving in Prague I was greeted by David Hrbek, a journalist, who organized the exhibit and set up my trip. On the 10th we met with Christopher Midura, the cultural attaché from the U.S. embassy in Prague, and I was able to express my gratitude to him for providing the funds to bring me there. Lunch was in a restaurant just across the Charles Bridge, and afterwards, David and I walked up to Prague Castle high above the Vltava River. I was aware, of course, of the recent flooding that had seriously damaged historic buildings and rendered some low-lying neighborhoods uninhabitable. At first glance, there appeared to be little sign of damage, but as one looked closer, it was clear that many buildings were dark and empty, and I was told that important parts of the subway system remained closed.

Back across the Charles Bridge, we peeked into the theater where Vlacav Havel’s plays were performed prior to the Velvet Revolution of 1989. Though Havel’s luster has dimmed for some because of his choice to jump into the fray of contemporary politics—he is presently the president of the Czech Republic—for many, and for me, he remains a hero.

That evening I was interviewed on Czech television, using simultaneous translation, a first for me. The interviewer, Ondrej Neff, a science fiction writer, and intellectual of wide-ranging interests including digital photography, kept to a tightly scripted program. My photographs were shown onscreen, and a bit of my song was played, but the seventeen-minute show zipped by with most of the discussion centered on my pictures of the WTC, not much about Vigil.

The next day, September 11th, we drove to Olomouc, a city of about 150,000 almost three hours east of Prague. In the morning we hung the exhibit and planned the evening’s program, a slide show and talk followed by refreshments in the adjacent café/gallery. That afternoon I watched CNN’s coverage of the memorial ceremonies in New York and Washington. I was impressed with the
simplicity and solemnity of the New York ceremony, but cringed at the maudlin songs written for the occasion in Washington. CNN, to its credit, refrained from showing the all-too-familiar clips of exploding airplanes and falling buildings, but when I switched channels, all the European stations were repeating the most gruesome images over and over.

Thanks to the publicity generated by the TV show, and a written interview in the newspaper done with David Hrbek, 100 to 150 people squeezed in for the evening’s presentation. We began by running the slide show of my photographs
with Jack Hardy’s song “Ground Zero” playing in the background. I found the juxtaposition of the images and Jack’s voice—“Simple mathematics/How many floors”—moving.

The lights came up and the museum director gave some introductory remarks. I
spoke for 10 minutes, but because everything had to be translated it was more
like 20 minutes all together, and then played “The Skyline,” my contribution to Vigil. I took questions from the floor, and answered as best I could a difficult question about how one draws the line between terrorism and acts of liberation. The most basic answer it occurred to me was the example of the Czech people themselves who for decades peacefully resisted Soviet occupation, preserved their culture, and as a result earned the respect and admiration of the world.

At the urging of several audience members, I finished the presentation with another New York song, “The Street,” written in the early ‘80s, when I lived
on East 4th Street on the Lower East Side of Manhattan. It’s a song that takes me back to the days when Jack and Suzanne and I were hanging out together in clubs and cafés—when New York was my primary subject and inspiration--and singing it that evening on September 11th, somehow closed a circle for me.

Afterwards, it was the usual wine and cheese opening party, and I spoke to a number of people including some American exchange students who had come out
that evening at least in part because it gave them a way to commemorate September 11th. The next day I flew back to Amsterdam. I’d like to thank all
who made this trip possible, especially David Hrbek of Olomouc, Marketa Kolarova from the U.S. embassy in Prague, and of course, Suzanne Vega. It has meant a lot to me to be a part of Vigil.

Brian Rose
September 15, 2002