Recently I went on a mission to Prague to discover the classical/flamenco guitar culture of another country. In the modern age it feels like the whole world is within reach. Planning this trip, I found concerts on four back to back nights in Prague, a Štěpán Rak concert, a guitar orchestra, and then two flamenco performances. So I took a guitar and set off. The most interesting concert to describe is the last one I went to, so I will focus on that in this post.
Some background I already knew about the Czech Republic before the trip, regarding guitars, is that they have schools there called “umělecké školy”/”art schools where every child learns an instrument from a young age. Then they have about 15 conservatoires and several more music universities. Therefore, there is an ever emerging crop of talented musicians. However, they only have a few guitar makers and don't have any shops which stock hand made guitars. So it seems like there is less of a culture of handmade instruments than in the UK. I wasn't sure whether this indicated a gap in the market or a lack of demand.
Cafe Lajka
The last concert I went to was a flamenco concert. I was excited because the guitar I'd brought with me was a flamenco guitar, and there would be three guitarists there, as well as three dancers and a singer. I had been in Prague long enough at that point to be used to the trams and the metro, and I travelled easily across the city to Cafe Lajka, where this performance was to take place. On that night the temperature was to reach a chilly -12 and the pavements were completely covered in ice, a thick layer of frozen snow. Café Lajka was a trendy looking cafe/brewery, and had an intimate second room where the flamenco show was held.
The intimate feel of the room reminded me of the first flamenco show I ever went to, in a bar in Valencia. Here in Prague, I was sitting in the back corner next to a piano and I had invited a friend along with me. I don't know what I had been expecting from the flamenco show, but what I discovered was something so unbelievably authentic, with such a high level of every element, that I felt as if I was in Spain. I think the rest of the Czech audience must have been as blown away as I was.
The guitarists clearly had a great passion for flamenco guitar. There was a player, Filip Zubák, who was a real virtuoso. He had a solo Granaina which was really beautiful. I will be watching out for his work in future. I spoke to him after the concert and he mentioned he was studying at a conservatoire in Prague and in his final year, or just completed his final year. I didn't catch everything he said, as my Czech is fairly bad. The second and also enormously talented guitarist was Kamil Ďurana, who also teaches flamenco and plays a flamenco guitar by a Czech luthier Petr Vančata, which was interesting to see and hear. The final guitarist was Anička Heldenburg. She opened the concert and also joined in again later on. She played beautifully and I hope the future has lots more guitar playing in store for her, as she not only plays brilliantly, but is only 10 years old. I suspect she may be one of Kamil’s students, and maybe goes to one of those “umělecké školy”. I was able to speak to Anička’s mum after the concert, and Anička tried my flamenco guitar.
What a lovely experience. The whole performance had an energy to it that makes me really hope to see them even though they're all the way in Prague.
As at this concert, sometimes I bring along a guitar to things like this to show the guitarists my work, or anyone interested in the audience. This is quite an art. Every time I do it, I think of the guitar maker David Rubio. When I started studying guitar making, I read Paul Fisher's book called Let the Wood Speak, and later met Paul Fischer in person, and in both cases he described David Rubio’s ability to confidently talk about, showcase, and sell his instruments. When I go to such events I try to channel my inner Rubio. This time it was made much easier by having a second person with me.
I had wished for snow before travelling to Prague and Prague certainly delivered. It proved an interesting challenge to juggle the humidity and temperature, while looking after the guitar and all the while trying not to slip over on the ice! The other concerts proved interesting too. After the guitar orchestra, I was able to speak with a few guitarists. It was difficult to just turn up and show my guitar to everyone unannounced (I only spoke to a couple of guitarists - I think David Rubio would have managed better!). However, the guitarists I spoke to gave me some feedback on the guitar, and I got some information on where Czech guitarists usually buy their instruments.
My Czech friend and I met up with another Czech language learner, one who lives in Prague. One of the things she said regarding Czech culture is that the more “underground” something is, the more Czechs seem to be interested in it. Hopefully, the idea of a guitar maker from distant England is romantic and underground enough, that one day I might be able to get some of my guitars into Czech hands.