Between Us
This time with Hana Sršňová, our 24-year-old actress from the Vosí hnízdo ensemble, and the editor and graphic designer of the quarterly magazine Dialog.
Hanka represents our younger generation—one that thinks deeply about things. She writes, plays the guitar and violin, composes songs, paints, creates, and teaches. She is an actress, a first-year art teacher at a grammar school, and a curious young person. She loves education, creativity, young people, Dialogical Acting, and ginger tea.
Hanka, you are 24 years old. You are the oldest member of Talent. You went through your teenage years with us, as well as secondary school and university. What was that like?
When I came to Talent at sixteen, into the Spektákl group, I didn’t understand at all what we were doing. But the longer I stayed, the more layers of Talent gradually revealed themselves to me. The first was Dialogical Acting. I remember Terka, who was in my group, once telling me: “Be careful when Dialogical Acting comes. You’ll see.” I thought it was just some kind of improvisation based on dialogue between two people. I didn’t understand why everyone was so afraid of it. And then I experienced my first Dialogical Acting session. Being completely on my own in an empty space was, for me as a very introverted person, terrifying. I was extremely nervous, I knelt on the floor and just talked to fill the time. But over time, I began to relax into it. I watched others, saw how they acted, and started to understand what it was about. That it doesn’t matter that you don’t know. In fact, that is the good part. It is precisely from not-knowing that interesting possibilities emerge—things that can trigger something I would never arrive at through rational thinking. What comes out of it is often something you could never have planned.
Another layer was revealed to me when I assisted you with the younger groups. I was eighteen at the time. I had the opportunity to look at the whole work at TALENT from a different perspective. I began to see how much work stands behind drama classes, how many other elements are connected to this form of work—specific exercises, various meditations, imagination work, the “magic mat.” It started to become clearer and more interconnected to me how things are done at TALENT. How everything is interconnected, how everything relates to everything else and touches a deeper meaning. That it is not only about creating a performance, but primarily about working on oneself. A person has the opportunity to get to know themselves more, to learn to be themselves, to develop, improve, and move forward.
The next phase came when I was a teacher at Talent myself. I began to understand the great responsibility of a teacher. In the end, this is what drew me towards pedagogy. Even though studying pedagogy was not my first choice. I primarily wanted to act. But through pedagogy I started to discover different educational methods and approaches. That pedagogy is not just about transferring knowledge or drilling material, but about creating a space for children to think for themselves, to discover, and to develop.
And the final milestone was the ensemble Vosí hnízdo. That is so far the highest level of my experience with Talent. It is about great freedom, but also responsibility, about creation and its broader impact. It is no longer only about us as creators, but primarily about the audience and what we want to convey through a performance. In the younger groups, it was mainly about us as people who are learning and creating, about our development. But in Vosí hnízdo, we go much deeper into creation itself. We think about what we want to say, we discuss it, and we reflect on it even outside the classes.
And at Talent, other projects are also created that influence us—for example the magazine Dialog, various discussions, and “Tea at Five,” where we can continue to reflect on things. These things don’t stay only within the lesson; they continue to accompany us in our thinking. A thread is formed that stays with us. Because the aim of Talent is not only to create performances, but above all to focus on the education of children—to help them become better human beings.
You speak beautifully about your experience with Talent. Do you think it is possible to create without self-knowledge?
It would be possible. But we would be completely different people.
What would you advise children so they are not afraid of Dialogical Acting?
It’s difficult to give advice. Dialogical Acting is a process—you need to experience it. Go through it yourself. Over time, you understand that it is okay to do in the space what you want to do, or to simply be who you are in it. It helps to observe others: to watch what they try, to notice what emerges in the space, when someone is funny, sometimes even awkward, when they can laugh at themselves. To let yourself be inspired. When you see it in others, it becomes easier to do it yourself. But the most important thing is trust in the group. The group has to function well. Because if I imagine doing Dialogical Acting in front of someone who judges me or laughs at me, it simply doesn’t work—you won’t open up.
Vyskočil often said about Dialogical Acting: “Notice what I am doing, don’t think about what I will do next.”
It is important to reflect on what emerged during the process. But not to plan in advance what I will do in the space—the thinking comes afterwards, as reflection. The initial impulse does not come from thinking. It somehow happens. I can’t even fully describe how one arrives at it—it simply occurs. But afterwards, it is important to think about it: about individual moments as well as the whole process. It is helpful to keep written reflections, because they allow you to go deeper. To look at how the work unfolded, what you noticed, and what you didn’t notice until a teacher pointed it out. Without reflection, the experience doesn’t have the same impact. Reflection is what allows us to become aware of what was actually happening. That is the value of looking back—not only the act of creation itself, but the fact that we continue to think about it afterwards.
Dialogical Acting helps to overcome the fear of the unknown and of not knowing, the idea that a person does not need to have everything under control.
Since I started doing Dialogical Acting, I am less afraid—of things like embarrassing myself or people laughing at me. Now I tell myself: okay, I’ll embarrass myself, fine, I’ll be awkward for a while, and then I won’t be anymore. Or if people laugh at me, I think: does it even matter? I am also more spontaneous. I walk down the street and feel like whistling, so I just whistle. Earlier, that wouldn’t have occurred to me—I would have been afraid people might think I’m crazy.
What keeps you with us?
At Talent there are many things I can engage in and that I enjoy—acting, writing, music, and different ways to express myself as an author. And lately, it has also been very much about the people: about you, Jirka, and the Vosí hnízdo ensemble. Because we have come together as a really great group. Something quite special. I wouldn’t want to lose that. We simply like each other.
How do you deal with things that cannot be influenced—for example the war in Ukraine, fear about geopolitical developments, or COVID?
It is good to remind myself that I can influence things. For example with COVID—I can disinfect my hands, wear a mask so it does not spread further. When there is war, I can help by standing against disinformation and spreading awareness. In environmental issues, I can choose not to put bread in a plastic bag. I know the real impact may seem small, but it still exists. There is a possibility of positively influencing the world. I am not just a passive victim, but an active co-creator, because my actions have concrete and real effects. I can choose whether I put my bread in a plastic bag, or I can tell myself it does not matter because I cannot change anything anyway. And when I decide that I cannot influence a situation and that it is not worth dealing with, I often create space in which things can only get worse. So I tell myself that even what seems unchangeable can, in fact, be influenced.
You speak about ideas I have also heard, for example from Magda Vášáryová or read in Marek Orko Vácha—that a person is not carried by fate, but is always an active shaper of the future, or that even in negative things there is hope, because they strengthen us. And in the need to do something about it, we change, we grow—both as individuals and as nations.
It is about a healthy perspective—not overly positive, but realistic. In life there are both good and bad things, and they are often interconnected. Good and bad periods alternate. So when someone tries to maintain a positive outlook, it is not about having their head in the clouds. On the contrary, it is about seeing things realistically. Life has both sides, and without the difficult ones it would not be complete. We cannot erase them; it is only about how we respond to them. At the same time, it is very important to acknowledge authentic feelings—to go through sadness or pain when it happens—and to accept that it is okay to feel sad. Otherwise, it can become dangerous: a person might lose compassion for themselves and for others, underestimate their pain, and become less empathetic. But it is also important to try to hold on to hope, even within negative emotions.
Where do you see the connection between pedagogy, authorial creation, and art?
Primarily in freedom. Pedagogy is about creating space and guiding people through that space. It should open possibilities rather than limit them. Authorial creation also offers freedom in how a theme is approached creatively. And art is pure freedom—the freedom of expression, thought, and opinion. Another thing that connects these three fields is self-development. Pedagogy is about human growth and development. In authorial creation, we should keep moving forward so we do not fall into fixed patterns or keep producing the same kinds of work. In art as well, style and thinking evolve as we evolve. At the same time, I think it is valuable to interconnect them. A teacher can do this—through authorial creation by allowing children to create freely, and through art by showing them what has already been created in the field. When this is combined well pedagogically, for example by an art teacher, the result can be that a child gains a better orientation in the visual world.
Is freedom important to you?
Definitely—but it depends on how I understand freedom. The first thing that comes to mind is that we lived under socialism. In this context, freedom is what I most often hear about. It is very important to me that we now have the possibility to live in a free country and to express ourselves freely. But freedom is not about doing whatever we want. It is also about responsibility. Our free choices and decisions carry consequences—we are the ones who shape events. That is very demanding. When we live without freedom, it is certainly very limiting, but it does not place the same demands on us in terms of decision-making, because things are already defined—what we can and cannot do. We do not have to think as much. That is the danger of lack of freedom: not only that our space is limited, but that it leads us toward not thinking, or toward a way of thinking that is one-sided.
You considered studying acting or creation. In the end, you chose pedagogy.
I don’t like uncertainty, and coming from a family of artists, I know how difficult it is to make a living from art. A life in the arts is full of instability. That is why I decided to study pedagogy and teach art. In the end, it completely drew me in. I teach high school students, and it is fascinating for me to observe the thinking of today’s teenagers, even though I am only a few years older than them. They have a real drive for life—a bit of rebellion and a great sense of hope. They are very morally aware. They strongly demand justice and actively work towards it in the world. They are interested in activism, charity work, and politics. They have a strong urge to change the world and want to jump into it. As a teacher, I can influence that—to help them keep their inner fire alive, so it is not suppressed.
It has almost become a generational stereotype that older generations complain about younger ones.
It is funny that people have always said this about the younger generation. If we went back to prehistoric times and they had been able to speak, they would probably have complained about the young as well. Maybe it is because they seem cheeky or badly behaved. But in reality, they are just trying things out. And the hormonal storm they are going through is intense.
How do you perceive contemporary pedagogy—its strengths and weaknesses?
A lot of interesting ideas are emerging in contemporary pedagogy, but it is difficult to bring them into practice. We have many great concepts and innovative teaching methods, yet there is often no way to apply them in real classrooms. Older professors often no longer want new approaches—they are either afraid of them or do not see their relevance. Younger teachers, who are eager to explore and try new things, often do not have the opportunity to implement them, partly because of how the school system is set up. The system is driven by performance. I teach art, where performance is not easily measurable. But among my colleagues who teach subjects like math or civics, I see fear in their eyes that they are behind schedule on two topics and need to catch up by the end of the year. They are overwhelmed by lesson planning and trying to figure out how to fit everything in. If someone came and told them, “You should work more individually with your students,” they would ask how. They have to finish the curriculum, give a test tomorrow, then move on to the next topic. They are forced to push information into students and work extremely hard to deliver all required knowledge. There is no space for anything else. The system is mainly focused on knowledge, but knowledge is only one part of education. We neglect many other aspects that belong to learning—skills, abilities, personal development. Teachers simply do not have time for improvement; they do what is necessary to fulfil the plan. The system is also designed to be universally applicable and beneficial for everyone. Of course, mistakes happen, and sometimes it can even harm some people. But this cannot be solved by any new method or handbook. It depends more on whether teachers see children as human beings, not as boxes to tick or numbers in a table. Ultimately, it does not matter so much whether they use Waldorf, Montessori, or traditional pedagogy. What matters is whether they perceive children as human beings. That is something they should never lose sight of.
Do you think teachers should also go through drama and psychosomatic training?
It is good to start earlier, especially in the teenage years. When we are adults, we no longer develop so extremely in terms of personality. We do change opinions and try to become better, yes, but the foundation is formed in childhood. So it is best to start as early as possible. But of course, even in adulthood it is valuable to realize that I do not need to know everything, to learn how to respond to situations I did not expect, to cope with absurd situations I would never have imagined in life. To stay calm when I do not know. Not to fall apart immediately or panic. That is certainly beneficial for teachers, because they encounter such situations every day.
Can authorial creation and Dialogical Acting support a child’s healthy development?
It can guide them in a healthy way through a difficult part of their lives. Especially because in puberty they struggle with uncertainty and with not knowing whether they are good enough. They constantly look for flaws in themselves. Suddenly they discover that mistakes are okay—that they are fine just as they are. At the same time, they can still develop and grow as personalities. Through authorial creation, a child also begins to realize that their behaviour has consequences. When they do something, it affects others as well—and that is clearly present in authorial work. When you make a decision, everyone is with you in that moment, and your decision has an impact on others too. Children can learn through authorial creation that they are not always guided by an adult. They have the possibility to influence things, but also to understand that their actions have consequences.
What would you like to say to children in conclusion?
To explore the different ways a person can create, and not be afraid to step into it. Creation is both enriching and fun. Some people might be afraid that they cannot paint or write, but there are many forms and ways of creating. For example, building a little fairy house out of twigs. It is about small things. It is good to stay open to creation and to explore what it brings.
Thank you for the interview.
Erika Merjavá
