Video Se

The Fulbrighter I've spent the most time with in Zagreb, Willie Osterman, is a professor of photography at the Rochester Institute of Technology in New York. He was invited to exhibit his work here in this new year, and asked if he could display some new work, not his past material, but something he might derive from his time here. Once he got the go-ahead for that plan, he invited many of the people he's come into contact with over the past months in Croatia to sit for portraits--but not your ordinary, run-of-the-mill portraiture. His concept, which you will see snippets of in the video below, was to capture a detail of the subject in his viewfinder, and thereby to replicate the dreamlike quality of the furtive and fertile period of his Fulbright semester in Zagreb. He titled his show FROM THE CORNER OF MY DREAMS for this reason, and the exhibit was astonishing to say the least.

First of all, it was held in the Lotrščak Tower, the wicked cool defense structure from which every day at noon a cannon is discharged. Willie's exhibit took up three floors of the tower, and the reception was on the first of these. This is mostly the reason the video pingpongs between boisterous party and quieter viewing.

The second reason I found his work astonishing was the reaction I found myself having to seeing my detail portrait among the selected. Not only was I flattered, but I discovered the real thrill of seeing something so familiar (my own ear) through the artist's eye and lens, like hearing my script performed by someone else for the first time . . . the duality of what I knew and what I had not considered as an objective rendering. It's akin to something I always share with my students about the purpose and power of art: ARTISTS MAKE THE STONE STONEY AGAIN FOR THE AUDIENCE. So much is taken for granted in this life that art can remind people of the simplest object anew, be it a stone, a laugh, a scent, or even an ear.

Third, because of my intimate connection to the exhibit, and to my own portrait, I find the result of his work with me to be beautiful and engaging, and I'm sure all of the others who sat for him with a big camera lens inches away from random body parts feel the same way!

Still, flattery aside, and humility (as usual) dispensed with, I believe my ear to be one of the highlights of the series. This is partly the reason for this entry's punny title: "Video Se" is a play both on the video camera I employed and sounds close to the Croatian for "I Saw myself."

So how did I like the exhibition as a whole? Well, to paraphrase Abe Burrows' review of I AM A CAMERA, "Me Leica!"



[I don't want to infringe on his art by concentrating my commemoration of the evening exclusively on his pictures . . . see his blog for the better renditions of the photos at http://www.willieosterman.com/]

Train Ride to Vienna with Gina Marie Mazzetti

As some of you know, I met a lovely, lovely person just before leaving Morgantown and she quickly grew to sweetheart status. More than that, she took time off from her job at the year's end to visit me! We had a marvelous time together, and I will document more of that in future 'blogs, but here is a taste of the trip we took from Zagreb to Vienna . . . for around $40 each! We also enjoyed the first sunshine in over a week, and Mother Nature couldn't have chosen a more beautiful terrain to shine on than these foothills to the Alps. The route went roughly from Zagreb through Maribor in Slovenia, through Graz in Austria ending up in Vienna. All told, about six hours of serene travel. Well, there was one drawback--I taught Gina to play Shithead* on the train and she beat me the first four games! Grrr.



*http://www.pagat.com/beating/shithead.html

And Now a Legal Disclaimer

“This site (enter site’s title and address) is not an official Fulbright Program site. The views expressed on this site are entirely those of its author (or insert name here) and do not represent the views of the Fulbright Program, the U.S. Department of State or any of its partner organizations.”

I received a nice email from someone at the embassey that reminded me to include the above verbiage in my 'blog somewhere. Sharp-eyed followers of ZagreBlog (and you know you are!) will notice that I've just now added the paragraph to my "About Me" section.

Vidimo Se

The Fulbright is ipso facto exciting, fun, and a highlight of any career. I don't have to explain the incredible thrill that spending an academic year abroad in a country such as Croatia affords me. The news to you, dear reader, comes in the understanding that the people I meet on the trip are in many ways the most rewarding part of this expatriate experience: sure, there are beautiful mountains and old buildings and strange alphabets, but the people with whom I come into contact constitute the lion's share of the Fulbright raison d'être.

Students, colleagues, artists, and random people I encounter in my day-to-day activities all contribute to my absolute enjoyment of Croatia. Larry and Judy Moneta have been two of the high points of my stay here so far (not to imply I'll meet any better down the line . . . I doubt it). Larry is a Student Affairs guru at Duke University and he brought his lovely wife Judy along to make this a joint experience.

Not only did they suck the marrow out of their semester in Europe, filling every day with new adventures and making a real difference to the university system here and in other parts of Eastern Europe, but they also provided a much-needed sanctuary in their apartment for regular Fulbright potlucks . . . so welcoming and generous!

Here they are on one of their many outings:



I know one of the best mementos I'll be bringing back with me is their friendship, and one of the advantages of people over objects is that I'll be able to keep their particular gifts in my memory and heart, and add some potlucks back in the States in the coming years.

Bon Voyage, Larry and Judy, and as we pseudo-Croats say, VIDIMO SE! ("Be Seeing You!")

Lippizaners in Training

In the small, picturesque town of Đakovo (pronounced "Jakovo"), in the central Croatian region called Slavonia (not to be confused with Slovenia, Slovakia, Slavonska, or any other permutation of those sounds), live several dozen mares, their colts and fillies, and a few lucky studs. There are actually two separate places: a stud farm and a training stable, separated roughly ten minutes by car. The horses are born dark and the lucky ones grow to be white and get to perform with the world-famous Spanish Riding School in Vienna, Austria, and around the world (on tours). Others become coach horses and fulfill other specialized functions, as they have for centuries. Below, the video displays some of the horses I encountered on a beautiful day in October 2009.

You Say You Want a Resolution . . .

As this is the time of year for such things, let me say that I hereby resolve to update my blog more assiduously in the coming months. It is not for lack of exciting adventures that I have been derelict, but a kind of inertia sets in when one does not develop the habit.

I intend to post a mix of major moments of the past two months along with timely updates as they happen, the better to chronicle this Fulbright year abroad.

So, as I am beginning anew, and without further ado, let me introduce the New Year with the Zagreb experience last night: the sweet and lovely Gina Mazzetti in town and in my heart 31.XII.2009 . . .

The People Around Me

If you’re reading this, it’s probably because you care about me, or my project, or the Fulbright. I’m glad you’re along for the ride, and I should thank you at this juncture for your support of my work and my life in whatever form that takes.

If you’ve been around me—on either side of the Atlantic—in the last few months, you know how focused I’ve been on launching this grand tour in the best ways possible, and I am happy to report that I’ve succeeded as far as I can tell.

So, thank you for your help in making this a reality for me; I’m indebted to you more than a little blog can express. To paraphrase Tennyson’s Ulysses: “All that I have met are a part of me.” I am truly blessed with fantastic family, friends, colleagues, students, and the people I depend on for answers, and the people who depend on me for answers.

I’ve been out of the USA for a month now, and if you’ve been wondering where I’ve been blog-wise for the past two weeks, I’ll tell you: I’ve been meeting about a hundred fascinating people from every possible corner of Zagreb. I hope I’ll stay connected to them in the near and far terms. Besides my fellow Fulbrighters, Willie Osterman, Larry Moneta, and Kathleen Beaudoin (she’s stationed in Rijeka on the Adriatic), I’m glad to say that the grad student Fulbrighters (Rebecca Rumora, Grace Shigetani and Mia Psorn) all bring some nice energy to the festivities in Croatia this year.

My friends Teri and Mike Pitts invited me to an embassy wine-and-cheese function up in the hills north of Zagreb. I met plenty of people (including the new ambassador, James Foley!) who were genuinely interested in me, curious about how I could turn comedy into an academic topic, and intent on using my skills to promote the US to the people of Croatia, from Zagreb to the smaller hamlets dotting this gorgeous country’s landscape. I apologize for leaving out names of people I met, but trust me, they were all fascinating.

I spent the start of that next week finishing the paper I was invited to present at the 30^th Annual Zagreb Literary Talks in the first few days of October.

In the middle of the week, on September 30, the Fulbrighters in the fall 2009 shift (some will leave in January, and some others will arrive for the spring 2010 semester . . . I’m the only lecturer here for the full academic year) convened for the Croatian side of the orientation process. I renewed acquaintances with some of the Fulbrighters I met at the orientation in Washington, DC, in July, and met more support people from the Embassy and the Croatian Ministry of Science, Sport, and Education (I think I got that right). We went over many practical topics—most of which I’d confronted in my first two weeks here—and some new ones (like avoid the “Princess Club” . . . let the name suffice to describe that clip joint). The orientation day ended with a beautiful reception at the home of the Deputy Ambassador, the charming Vivian Walker. The three contact people I’ve met up with the most are Sasa Brlek, Marija Crnić, and Bob Post.

I’ve been meeting and greeting colleagues at the Faculty of Philosophy (where the Comparative Lit and American Studies/English departments reside). Few meetings so far, and I’ve been scrambling to coordinate the course packets for the three classes I’ll teach this semester. Boris Senker and Stipe Grgas are my two most direct contacts, but I’ll be working with a bunch of people. Sorry to delay those other names, but I’m sure I’ll be posting about the academic work soon enough (CLASSES START OCT. 12 FOR ME).

Meanwhile, at the ZLT, I met and interacted with several dozen scholars, professional playwrights and novelists, and theatre practitioners from Croatia and elsewhere. The conference was held in the space run by the Croatian Writers Association, and the building is smack-dab in the heart of Zagreb on the main square, Trg Bana Jelačića. It even has a fabulous restaurant connected to it that provided meals for the duration of the talks. Wow! Two other Americans (Carolyn Roark and Cheryl Black) joined the fun here, as well as the brilliant British critic and writer John Elsom. I got to practice my German with Lucija Šarčević (Croatian but teaching in Germany), and generally blended as much as possible with the native writers, like Miro Gavran and the two hardest working organizers of the event, Ana Čikos and Nikola Đuretić. Everyone there handed me books and more books! No shortage of literature for me to read here. I even caught up with a Croatian scholar I met in New Orleans at ATHE a few years back, Sanya Nikčević; more on her later. Again, I apologize for leaving many, many names out here. Here's a little clip of my opening gambit for the paper I presented (with Ana and Nikola on either side of me):

On the Sunday at the close of the ZLT, a big bus took the participants to Đakovo in the eastern part of Croatia called Slavonia. Đakovo has three claims to fame, as I could see: the horse farms that raise the fantastic Lipizzaner horses, a rare red-brick cathedral, and (judging by the lunch) abundant platters of roasted meats. The long day presented more of an opportunity to bond with the writers and scholars on a lovely excursion (my first adventure outside of Zagreb so far . . . look for a new blog entry devoted to the horse, cathedral, and lunch video).

The next day, Sanya and her husband, Rolando, took Carolyn and me to Istria for a further adventure. Cheryl (the other American at the ZLT) sadly had to return to school in Missouri after only four or five days in Europe (boo!). Istria is the westernmost province of Croatia, nearest Italy. More on that adventure in a later blog . . . need to edit the footage!

Finally, let me return my thoughts to the people back home in the States: in West Virginia, Louisiana, Georgia, DC, and elsewhere who never have left me for a second and whose energy fuels my activities more than I can say. I could not have made this trip without your (continued) support: you know who you are . . . whether you’re sending me a care package, or mailing an important document, or reminding me of the Saints’ success, or keeping my house in impeccable shape, checking my mail, or emailing me needed work to use here, please remember I am indebted to you and I hope you can find your way here to share in the Croatian fun in person during the next months. I’ll be back home before we know it, and I intend to bring back beaucoup memories and stories to tell for years to come.

Oh, and one more thing: the Croatian keyboard has a few extra letters like č Đ Č ć Š and so forth . . . and the “Y” and “Z” are switched in the layout, which will take some getting used to (or, rather, "the used to which will take some getting"????). I apologize here and now for missing a diacritical mark and otherwise misspelling this new language . . . it will happen.

Much Love to All,

Jaz