Speech of the rector of the AFAD on the occasion of awarding the title of Dr.H.C.

Announcements of Academy of Fine Arts and Design in Bratislava.

 

Dear Mrs. Edit András,

Dear Mr. Miroslav Petříček,

Dear Magnificences, Honorabilities and Spectabilities,

Dear Mr. State Secretary,

Dear festive gathering, dear colleagues, students, friends.

 

On the occasion of the awarding of honorary doctorates at the Academy of Fine Arts and Design in Bratislava, I will deliver a speech in honor of two exceptional personalities. This extraordinary academic ceremony is repeated only once every five years on the grounds of our school, so a person with humility and with many inner doubts about himself formulates the words that should be a celebration of Edit András and Miroslav Petříček. This inner restlessness of mine is also multiplied by the knowledge that the lifelong journey of both awardees is to think about the times we live in, to penetrate "below the surface of its phenomena and things" in an extremely authentic, true and inspiring form. That's why adding a piece of my world to it is a difficult and, in some ways, unattainable task.

 

A few years ago, I received a copy of the manuscript of a short essay by Václav Havel as a gift. It was never published, perhaps because it was a deep inner confession of the author towards the life and work of Jan Patočka, perhaps because the texts written in the movement of one's own soul, one's own sadness, should remain forever in the intimacy itself. However, there are periods that can only be survived thanks to someone else's experience, thanks to the knowledge that even "hopeless inner loneliness" can be overcome, and even that it is possible to grow from it. Václav Havel's essay is called The Last Interview, and on five pages, not quite densely written, there is almost our entire world yearning for knowledge, courage, loss and hope. For me personally, this text is my refuge, not only because I received it from a person who loved me, but especially because of the incredible experience of reading about the transformation of personal human experience into a universal value that can be transferred to any time, any emergency or of every glory.

 

In the deep 50s of the 20th century, the Prague university library had a department with books that could not be borrowed. It was led by a certain Mr. Jirkovský, and at that time one had to show considerable effort in order to get to the book The Natural World as a Philosophical Problem by Jan Patočka. That book, as well as others by other authors, had a magical charm for Václav Havel, which was strengthened by their political suppression, but at the same time they meant for him the truth, real culture and inspiration, the fascinating world of modern thinking about art. The authors of these books lived on the sidelines of public events, under the ice of time, as Boris Pasternak once said, but the idea of ​​them living and working in the same city and possibly moving in the same places was unimaginable. Havel read everything that Jan Patočka wrote and that could be accessed, but he did not find the courage to approach him and ask for a meeting. He believed, perhaps correctly, perhaps not, that he was not so educated or so precise in his thinking, that he had not yet worked too little to hold an equal conversation. These inhibitions were part of his first self-awareness, they probably wouldn't have been possible without the people he respected too much. He never got rid of his shyness in front of Jan Patočka, but life brought small moments that were good for establishing trust between them.

 

For the first time, Václav Havel experienced Jan Patočka live at the end of the 1950s at the National Museum at a closed lecture on Comenius. He was inconspicuous, noble, every single word of his touched many, it was exactly that other deeper and truer speech that attracted Havel so much in those books that are not borrowed and that he so rarely heard in the world that surrounded him. Patočka spoke slowly, sometimes he paused for a moment to find the right word, but he spoke happily, engagingly, with inner passion. The strength of his interpretations did not lie in what he knew and how he inevitably knew how to penetrate beneath the surface of phenomena and relationships, but in all his individuality, in its sincerity, modesty and humor. Unofficial seminars on existentialism, phenomenology, and philosophy in general at the Divadlo na zábradlí were engaged in a lively search for significant things and a clarification of oneself, one's own situation in the world.

 

It was only in the last period that Václav Havel gradually lost his shyness in front of Jan Patočka, who ceased to be a kind of deity for him but gradually became a human being. At the same time, Havel stopped being a devoted listener and became Patočka's partner in dialogue. This transformation, in my opinion, is extremely rare and speaks not only about wisdom and education, but is a universal value about how to build confidence, how much a person has to try to be free and independent in their thinking. It often happened in conversations that what a person thinks, is correct, they cannot articulately justify, the interpretation itself seems to lose credibility. At that time, Jan Patočka was able to explain things or phenomena so simply, provably, even crystal clear, that thanks to this, people understood themselves and strengthened their position. It is the basis of dialogue, but at the same time I think it is also the basis of education, thinking and creative work.

 

At the last meeting, in the waiting room between interrogations in the Ruzyně prison, they conducted an impromptu seminar on the immortality of human thought and human responsibility, Jan Patočka carefully weighed every single word, as if he had unlimited time in front of him. Immersion in the conversation about the basic things of being resulted in Havel's strong desire to meet him again and continue the conversation that had started. But then came the news that the conversation about the immortality of human thought was the last conversation.

 

After overcoming shyness, on the threshold of acquired determination to conduct a dialogue with Jan Patočka, this story comes to an end. But not forever, because finding the determination to talk about being and not being gives a person the chance to have a lifelong conversation with Jan Patočka, and even this experience can be transferred from the essay to people's lives, to the contexts of the next decades, which are weakened by bad political decisions.

 

Respect for a human being, for their thinking, for their work and creative activity should form the basis of every society. Deep respect for personalities who can speak freely and inspiringly about human existence in an unfree world should be part of our conversations, our cooperation and our joint projects. I am thinking of my colleagues from the Slovak National Gallery, the Slovak National Museum, the Slovak National Theatre, the Kunsthalle and Bibiana, the monuments authorities, I am thinking of the employees of the Ministry of Culture, I am thinking of the people who have dedicated their whole lives to work for art and work in culture. Without them we could not be the school we are, without their long-term support we would not progress, without conversations with them we would not build the school's identity based on freedom, openness and inclusion. It is painful for me to see the gradual destruction of the cultural environment; it is incomprehensible for me to see that decisions about culture and art are made by professionally incompetent people who do not help but programmatically harm. The worst is the moral decay that I associate with the humiliation and public shaming of people who have done so much in the culture. The press releases of the Ministry of Culture destroy the lives of specific individuals, mainly by questioning their ethical and professional integrity. Without evidence, based on lies that have the task of intimidating the rest of us as well.

 

I think about Slovakia very often. I remember how our president spoke about her beloved Slovakia at the end of her mandate. Sometimes I think that our beloved Slovakia will have to be born again, that there will be nothing to build on. The last conversation between Václav Havel and Jan Patočka always helps me overcome gloomy thoughts. The essay written on May 1, 1977 in the prison in Ruzyně helps me not only with its content, but especially with the realization that I can name from my current situation what came after: the release of normalization pressure, perestroika and the year 1989. That's why you I think that at this moment it is most important to stay together with our colleagues in the bullied cultural institutions. To develop dialogue and cooperation with them and to prepare for the period that comes after.

 

Thank you for your attention.

 

 

Bohunka Koklesová

Rector of the AFAD

15. 10. 2024