Leaning Church: the voices of a vanished city.

This is the story of the big bang. Not the explosion that gave birth to the universe. But
an explosion in a mine in the Czech town of Karviná (Czech Silesia) near the Polish
border. From that explosion was born a universe of pain, as described by Karin
Lednická, a native of that town and author of the bestselling book, Leaning Church. This
story is written in black and white; literally charcoal on the blackened, whitewashed
pages of a history that many would rather forget.

The programme of the 10th anniversary edition of the Madách International Theatre
Meeting (MITEM) included an entire festival - Synergy World Theatre Festival - in its
"theatre embrace". Within the framework of this event, Budapest has brought notable
theatre productions from different years, united by the theme of linguistic and ethnic
minorities. These very different genres and moods are accompanied by subtitles in
Hungarian and English, for which, however, the sound of the word in the mother tongue
is very important. In translation, as usual, much is lost and weathered, but the live word
heard from the stage, even in an unfamiliar language, adds a special aura to the
audience's perception of the productions. Leaning Church, directed by Radovan Lipus,
is a production of the Czech theatre Těšínské divadlo in Český Těšín, a unique theatre
where two ensembles performing repertoire in both Czech and Polish languages meet.
The Polish troupe is oriented towards the Polish population of the Czech Republic. The
theatre also has a children's studio, which plays in both languages. The bilingualism of
the theatre is connected with the bilingualism of the city, which survived the territorial
division between Poland and Czechoslovakia in 1920. After the new border was drawn,
the territory of present-day Český Těšín became part of Czechoslovakia. The population
here is mixed Czech-Polish, and the main task of the theatre, established in 1945, was
to serve the audience speaking both languages. The Polish theatre was founded in
1951.
Karin Lednická's novel is in perfect harmony with the super-task of this theatre. The
novel is partly about the Czech-Polish conflicts that arose after the collapse of Austria-
Hungary. The play, however, focuses on universal human manifestations and destinies,
as well as the human ability to withstand difficult situations, rather than primary national
manifestations and grievances. The novel-chronicle takes the historical background in a
detached and cold manner, favouring no one - the first part speaks of the pain inflicted
by the Czechs on the Poles, and the second looks at the offences the Poles took
against the Czechs although here there are no victim complexes, no accusations and
mutual recriminations. The novel is written neither from the Czech nor from the Polish
perspective. It is as distanced as possible and the fact that the novel, written in Czech,
is played in Polish becomes another contribution to the corpus of knowledge,
understanding and reconciliation, which is hard to overestimate. Here is the fate of a
man against the backdrop of the fate of a city, a country and the world. This story is, in
fact, a work in progress - it opens the pages of common Czech, Polish and Soviet
history without seeking to retouch unpleasant and painful moments.
Leaning Church is conceived as a trilogy. The author has published two books
dedicated to the town of Karviná, whose history and vicissitudes reflect world history.
The first part of the trilogy covers the period from 1894 to 1921, the second from 1921
to 1945. The third part, according to the author, will end in the 1960s and 1970s, when
the city underwent the greatest destruction. Radovan Lipus's production, masterfully
staged by Renata Putzlacher (also the author of the translation), is based on the first
part of the trilogy and tells the story of a mining family at the turn of the 19th and 20th
centuries.
https://youtu.be/hA-goXTPdQ0?si=yB6hZ_MrfOhbRf3k
The predominant colour of the performance is black. The light of miners' lanterns
illuminates separate fragments from the mosaic of one town's fate. Coal was once the
glory of this town. A century later, it also led to its decline. Nothing remains of its former
prosperity and respectable buildings. The tilted, shrivelled church reminds sullenly and
reproachfully of the events of the past. Church św. Piotra z Alkantary and the Karwina
cemetery, where 235 victims of the explosion at the Franciszka mine and later at
the Jan-Karol and Głęboki mines are buried. Miners' widows and orphans, small people
against the backdrop of great grief are the heroes of the novel and the play based on it.

Projections on the walls of the set, shadows, half tones and a gloomy feeling of
memories waking up from a long sleep - this is the atmosphere of the performance.
These are the unburied, unmourned pages of memory, the pages of history. In this
complex plot with many characters and intertwining stories, three indomitable Barbora
(Małgorzata Pikus), brave Julka (Barbara Szotek-Stonawski) and clever Ludwik (Kamil
Mularz) stand out, illustrating three models of human behaviour in circumstances where
life tests us. Some surrender by submitting to circumstances, others try to overcome
tragedy by trying to make the best of it. But no matter how fussy a person is, history
harshly and unceremoniously interferes with his plans.
While watching this play, you catch yourself with horror at the thought that it is based
not on the author's artistic imagination, but on real events. It's a very cinematic
production and story (there will probably be a film version of the trilogy as well), which is
essentially a documentary story. Even in the abridged theatre version, which contains
fewer details than the detailed novel, it manages to convey a lot to the audience thanks
to the actor's existence not acting out the story as a play, but telling it. It is no
coincidence that the Jantar Award-winning play also features a narrator character (Jan
Monczka). In essence, it is a spectator's tour through the pages of one city and its
inhabitants, who have had to endure too much. But history, including the present day,
teaches that "too much" is never too much.

One of the key themes of the play is the fear of the fragility of the world in which one
cannot feel safe. This is very acutely and emotionally perceived by the audience in the
auditorium and therefore it is easy to identify with one or another character in the play.
There is no distance of language, epoch, history. Humanity here is in the timelessness
and I think this fact was one of the key factors for the selectors of the MITEM
programme and its leader Attila Vidnyánszky. It is amazing how the spectator of the
play, even if he or she is not familiar with the novel or the history of the Czech Republic
and Poland, feels confident and does not get lost in the director's idea or the twists and
turns of the plot. Everything here is very precisely and smoothly structured and the play
is perceived as a fascinating film with remarkable acting, laconic and restrained
scenography and costumes (Marta Roszkopfová) and musical and sound
accompaniment (Dorota Barová).

Humility, naivety, ardour, passion, love, bitterness of loss and suffocating misfortune,
hope shattered by hopelessness - the palette of the two-and-a-half-hour performance is
voluminous and contrasting. There is no pathos or techniques that solicit tears or
laughter from the audience. But there are strong women, left without men, who are
taken away by misfortune or war, but they are not broken and have not lost themselves.
Everything here is very harmonious and moderate. At times, Our Town by Thornton
Wilder comes to mind, but only because human perception is organised in such a way
that it tries to latch on to what has already been seen, felt, understood....
The church bell is ringing and no one will ask who it is ringing for. Curiously, even
nowadays, the history of one town continues to grow with new details. In May 2021, the
Gulag.cz team conducted research and discovered a hitherto unknown camp for Soviet
prisoners of war in Karviná. Nearby were the remains of three other Nazi camps from
the Second World War. Specialists were advised by Karin Lednická, the author of the
novel that forms the basis of the play. However, these events are unknown to the
characters in the play, but known to the audience, who have the opportunity to imagine
what awaits each character.
Karin Lednická has performed a unique act of creation - her literary work has breathed
life into an essentially destroyed city. A city that has experienced both a booming
prosperity and oblivion in the era of the booming prosperity of the idea of socialism. It is
a lesson and a warning to posterity. And it is a unique work on the theme of memory,
like a flower breaking through the asphalt, overcoming prohibitions, silences,
indifference and the desire to forget. The theatre continues this work by "bringing to life"
the characters of the novel, who emerge from oblivion. This is not a distant past but it is
somehow hidden from us. Without making sense of it, we risk repeating it over and over
again. Memory work, source analysis, immersion in context - this is what
makes Leaning Church's novel and performance an important theatrical and social
experience that is worth living with the actors for everyone in the audience.

MITEM continues to inspire audiences with its contrasting palette of theatrical

experiences. It is a theatre not for entertainment, but for the work of the mind and soul.
It is demanding to itself and to the audience, which, leaving the performances, does not
feel tired, but, on the contrary, feels the desire to talk, to share opinions and
impressions. And it is this fact, and not only the long applause at the finale, that means
that the festival achieves its goals, achieves the attention and understanding of the
audience regardless of age, origin, language, faith and attitude to art... It means that the
"church" of theatre is not leaning.

Photo from the official site of Těšínské divadlo theatre

https://www.tdivadlo.cz/sztuka/krzywy-kosciol

Photographer's name is not given.

Scenes from the performance.