We continue the conversation between Hana Sršňová and Erika Merjavá at a shared table, exploring questions of how children perceive the world, the search for identity, Vyskočil’s dramatic pedagogy, and the ways in which children’s perception, education, and drama can extend toward adults, society, and the wider world. It is a space full of questions, where small miracles may also appear. This time, the theme is: Mistake.
What does the concept of mistake mean to you in pedagogy?
I see hope and the possibility of growth in mistakes—not only in pedagogy, but in life as well. A person can either be frightened by a mistake, or it can become an opportunity, if one does not succumb to it.
As an educator, how do you help ensure that mistakes don’t paralyse children, but instead move them forward?
In our pedagogical and creative process, we experience both joy and pain. Some things are pleasant, others less so, and we struggle with them. In any case, joy should guide us and give us the will to continue. But it is precisely through the uncomfortable moments, exercises, and disciplines that we step beyond our comfort zones, our masks fall away, and we move toward greater authenticity and identity. Paradoxically, pain leads to joy, because a person becomes who they truly are. This brings an incredible sense of relief, because something suddenly clicks within us. Everything starts to fall into place and reveal its meaning. Masks may hurt deeply, but at the same time they create an illusion of safety. And it hurts even more to let them go, because we feel exposed—standing naked in the world, fragile and vulnerable. But there is no other way than to be who we are. We cannot deceive ourselves, bypass it, bribe it, outsmart it, or close our eyes to it. The path to oneself is direct, and it often passes through pain. What is remarkable about drama, however, is that it offers a light and joyful tool for all of this: play. And play is existentially connected with joy. It contains all opposites—mistakes, uncertainty, unpredictability. In play, mistakes and pain dissolve, because play carries within itself perspective and humour.
What is the role of mistakes in Dialogical Acting?
Dialogical Acting is the freest and at the same time the sharpest form of play within drama pedagogy that I know. It is a safe space where “everything” is allowed, yet it reveals without compromise who we are in a given moment, because it is based on mistake, not-knowing, and uncertainty. Its open—or rather deliberately unstructured—task works directly with error and ignorance. And because of that, our masks fall away. But when we become afraid of mistakes, we rush things and quickly put the mask back on. That is why time is so essential in Dialogical Acting—to allow ourselves moments of not-knowing. These are the moments that interest me most. That is when I become attentive: how do children react to a situation they did not expect? In the end, they discover that even a mistake can be sparkly, joyful, and curious. As Ivan Vyskočil used to say: “to look forward to making a mistake.” To be curious about what a mistake can offer, where it can lead us.
Take it into play. For example, when we say a line incorrectly in a performance, we can either get stuck and try to force it back into its original form, or we can take it into play—and something different, sometimes even better, can emerge.
That is the magic of mistakes. In a performance, we are not only in play with each other, but also with the audience. We take into play their expectations and assumptions. When I do not give in to the pressure of the audience, the spectators enter a mutual communication—they become part of it, and the same lightness and joy that the actors experience is transferred to them, even through the mistakes that have occurred.
And if I fail to transform a mistake in a performance—what happens then? At most, 150 people might think that I failed or that it wasn’t good. But does the world collapse? It does not. Failure is also part of experience. It gives me feedback.
How can a group create a safe space?
It is important that the environment in which we experiment in class is accepting. A person should not feel judged or evaluated. That is why, as a teacher, I do not say that something is right or wrong. I simply point out where I see direction and possibilities—and where I do not. That is my position as a facilitator. If it happens that a child is not accepted by the group, I try to interfere as little as possible in their relationships. I want to give them space to find their inner strength to deal with the experience of not being accepted. When they endure it, they often discover self-confidence and self-respect. Because they remain in a safe environment where they can learn how to function. Otherwise, a child carries their fragility into future relationships and groups, and sooner or later they will have to face it anyway—fight for their own place and find inner strength. They must learn to trust themselves. Of course, when a more serious issue arises, I do intervene—but that does not happen often. That is why I am very cautious about intervening in group relationships. The more I decide as an authority, the more I take away the child’s opportunity to cope with difficult situations themselves. And then the child will continue in life relying on external authorities to solve things for them, to make decisions in their place. That is not desirable. Pedagogy should lead children toward inner freedom and strength by giving them space.
Should we learn from the mistakes of others, or do we need to experience them ourselves?
It has two sides. I was raised with the idea that the wise learn from the mistakes of others, and the foolish from their own. But then it becomes difficult to grow freely, because a person actually learns through their own experience and mistakes.
It is like telling a child not to put their finger into fire. Either they obey, but still have all the “little devils” in their head wondering what would happen—or they try it, get burned, and next time they won’t do it again.
The other side is boundaries. We do not need to experience everything ourselves; some experiences can be dangerous. It is an act of humility to perceive the experiences of others as well—where they led them, what they did to them, how they became part of human experience and history. It is about consequences and responsibility.
Freedom carries a great responsibility for the consequences of our actions. Freedom without responsibility is merely an illusion. It is up to each person how they balance this in their life.
How can we deal with the feeling of failure?
The feeling of failure is like falling into darkness. Not in the sense that I have done something wrong, but in the sense of sinking into hopelessness—when I can no longer see a way forward, when I freeze and become stuck.
The only way out is not to give up—to keep going, to try to maintain interest, and to endure. In this, everyday rituals can help; they can hold us in the most difficult situations.
Sometimes the best thing is simply to wait and continue doing what must be done in order to survive—enduring and staying anchored in small certainties.
Asked by Hana Sršňová, answered by Erika Merjavá.
To be continued in the next issue
