Meeting Point | ENG

SETKÁNÍ/ENCOUNTER je mezinárodní festival divadelních škol s více než třicetiletou tradicí. Jedinečnost festivalu spočívá v tom, že hlavní organizátory tvoří studenti Divadelní fakulty Janáčkovy akademie múzických umění.

SETKÁNÍ/ENCOUNTER

“But you don’t have to make things up just because of me.”&nbsp;“You know, football is basically about working with people too.” &nbsp; “My ex… and then my other ex…”&nbsp;&nbsp;It’s not difficult to feel for the main character even if you are nothing like her and your job is nothing like hers. Somehow, the stereotypes of men that this short movie introduces to us feel oddly familiar. &nbsp;&nbsp;You think I find it attractive, when all you do is talk about yourself?&nbsp;You think I find it attractive, when you force yourself on me? &nbsp;You think I find it attractive, when all you can talk about are your exes?&nbsp;&nbsp;We get to know the main character through a series of dates. We witness her&nbsp;various meetups until they all start to blendtogether. Because in the end, everyone is looking only for one thing. &nbsp; &nbsp; “So, before you go, do you want to stop by my place?” &nbsp; “Do you want me to be the first one?” &nbsp; …&nbsp;&nbsp;We look for clues about who we are actually watching. Hints during conversations. Reactions to various situations. And still, we have no clue where the story is going to take us. &nbsp;&nbsp;Our eyes locked.&nbsp;He smiled at me.&nbsp;“Is everything ok?” &nbsp;&nbsp;The pattern is breaking. We can see the way out of this enchanted circle. We take the first steps in the right directionwhen, all of a sudden… the path is gone. It’s too late.&nbsp;&nbsp;“Sorry, but I have to go already.”&nbsp;&nbsp;Is the pattern back?&nbsp;author: Kamila Jášováphoto: Jasmína Georgievová

Enchanted circle – The Date | encounter.cz

Enchanted circle – The Date

The film was created by JAMU student Šimon Pávka, who was present at the screening. The portrait is primarily structured as an interview – we learn how Luděk Vémola got into puppetry, what it means to him, and how the Lišeň Theatre was created. The dialogue is complemented by examples of his work – fragments from various performances or a presentation of a musical instrument made from a bucket. Even through the screen, one can sense a high level of creativity.&nbsp;The Lišeň Theatre is distinctive not only because it is a puppet theatre, but also because it addresses social and political themes. Luděk mentions the reactions of different audiences – the contrast between open-minded students on one hand, and teachers with already firmly formed opinions on the other. He points out a major advantage of their productions: they spark people’s interest in politics, and audiences often engage in discussions after the performances, something which is much needed in today’s world. Although puppets provide a certain freedom and distance in expressing opinions, we also learn about the threats the theatre regularly receives.&nbsp;After the screening, we have a unique opportunity to have a brief discussion with the filmmaker. He describes how he first encountered the LišeňTheatre as a spectator and how their subsequent collaboration developed. Even though most of this portrait on film consists of a single interview, we feel we have learned more than would seem possible in such a short time. As the applause fades, we find ourselves looking up the theatre’s nextperformance.author: Kamila Jášová&nbsp;photo: Jasmína Georgievová&nbsp;&nbsp;

Many of us associate puppets with childhood and fairy tales, in which puppeteers bring life to simple objects. One such person is Luděk Vémola, a founding member of the Lišeň Theatre. A short documentary about him was screened on Saturday afternoon as part of the OFF program.

Screening of the Portrait Luděk | encounter.cz

Screening of the Portrait Luděk

The single Mistakes deals with contemporary issues such as OnlyFans, pornography addiction, and parasocial relationships. The lyrics are written from the perspective of an adolescent who falls in love with one of the creators on OnlyFans, while the song simultaneously questions him: “Does that black rectangle keep you engaged for a day or two?” The melody is monotonous, as is the singer’s intonation, pulling the listener into a trance-like state. This effect is deepened by the music video, which also deconstructs the original framework. In the video, the man is the creator, and the woman his subscriber.&nbsp;A recurring motif throughout the video is a long ribbon with a traditional floral pattern. This object connects the two main characters: we first see it in the man’s mouth, from here it snakes its way to the woman, who willingly entangles herself in it. The ribbon becomes the primary medium of communication between them. They are never shown together in a single shot, and so their only way of interacting is by pulling at one another via this object.&nbsp;Another key motif is strawberries, a fairly well-established symbol of sexuality. The woman first prepares the red fruit with white icing and whipped cream, then brings it to the man, who consumes it in a suggestive manner. These shots are the boldest moments of the video; otherwise, it remainsrelatively modest, using a lyrical rather than raw or naturalistic perspective on the subject.&nbsp;This lyrical atmosphere is further enhanced by the use of colour. Many of the shots, especially those made outdoors, evoke a dreamlike world. They are intentionally blurred and out of focus, as if the characters are losing touch with reality or living within their own illusions. The opening sequence stands apart: it appears to take place in a studio and technically resembles a video from an unspecified erotic platform.&nbsp;author: Lukáš Hladíkphoto: Jasmína Georgievová&nbsp;

As part of Saturday’s screening program, festival visitors had the opportunity to watch the music video for the single Mistakes by the indie-rock band Midnight Swimmers. This video is not merely an illustration of the song, but also engages with it in a dialogue, using its own artistic language without forcing only one possible interpretation onto the audience.

Strawberries Melt on the Tongue | encounter.cz

Strawberries Melt on the Tongue

Sometimes you don’t need words to tell a story. We, people, are used to talking, so we easily forget that a thought can also be expressed in a different medium. Here we encounter a silent film, where movementand facial expressions speak instead of words. The story is told by dance, which builds on&nbsp;Slavic tradition and works with the details of eye contact&nbsp;and facial expressions. I was surprised by how it worked – just by looking into the character’s eyes, the viewer knows exactly what is being said. A single expression on the face says more than a thousand words. Another indispensable narrator is the music, which has a pagan character at times. It underlines the dynamics of the plot, from slow tones of love to furious melodies expressing anger and chaos.&nbsp;The film forces the viewer to perceive the plot differently than they are used to doing. It requires focused attention to detail and does not make the path to understanding easier, since no explanatory words are offered.&nbsp;The overall experience is enhanced by the beautiful scenery of the Czech forests, which reminds us that beauty lies in simplicity. We often forget what gems we have just a few minutes from our homes. Nothing complicated, just ordinary forests, treetops, soft moss, and mountains. These visuals are from the Rudice Sinkhole and the surrounding area of the Moravian Karst, where the film was shot.&nbsp;The film confirms in every way that there is beauty in simplicity. It is set in the past, when people lived in close contact with nature, when humanity did not yet desire to conquer nature, but to be a part of it. It tells of love and irreversible fate: of female togetherness and passion. But at the same time, there is human jealousy, conflict, and the desperate actions of man in his primeval form.&nbsp;&nbsp;However, the question remains: Who is the Goddess? Is she a real figure or just a mythical being? Can she really reverse our fate, or does she remain just a silent observer? Is our path really predetermined, or are we the masters of our own happiness?&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;

"The paths of fate are like branches in the crown of a tree. Sometimes they intertwine, sometimes they pass each other by completely, or they grow side by side for many years, almost coming together." – Those are the introductory words for the movement-dance short film, directed by Dominika Prášková, a graduate of JAMU.

Goddess – Path of Fate: A dance in the rhythm of nature | encounter.cz

Goddess – the Path of Fate: A dance in the rhythm of nature

The fridge is stocked, so all that’s left is to visit mother, finish the shopping, plug in the grill, and remember to bring a good mood. However, throughout various errands and preparations for the evening gathering, Ali and Onur collide with stereotypes linked to their heritage and ponder the definition of "home." Through dynamic mise-en-scènes, they recount absurd experiences and politically incorrect jokes—all delivered in a blend of German, Turkish, and English. Eventually, it turns out their friends won't be making it to the feast, so the audience members become the guests themselves. The half-full house at the Theatre on Orlí street applauded enthusiastically, and the chaotic switching of subtitles clearly didn't bother anyone. We all sit with nuts and vine leaves in hand, perhaps reflecting a little on our own sense of displacement.&nbsp;<component-embed-media src="https://s3.dualstack.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/mediaboard-publishing/blogs/C9HtbO5lynSBKZEDbWIvKfHVM5udslju" alt="photo: Darek Hoffmann" visible_alt="true" url="" content_type="image/jpeg" type="image"></component-embed-media>author: Anna Seifertováphoto: Darek Hoffmann

A Turkish-Swiss Feast

How did the creation and rehearsal process unfold? What was key for you – the atmosphere, collaboration with musicians…?&nbsp; That’s an interesting question. The performance is the result of three years of shaping myself during my studies in Nonverbal Theatre, so it is essentially a graduation piece that will soon mark one year since its premiere.&nbsp;My goal is to make theatre for all audiences. I don’t want to box myself into some kind of artistic elitism. A detective story is something everyone enjoys. People think about it, discuss it, try to figure things out. At the same time, for me it was an ideal form that I hadn’t really seen explored much in physical theatre and pantomime here. It was a very interesting creative process. Throughout the performance, various clues appear that point to who the murderer is – in my case, a woman, and also a lover, as the story gradually reveals.&nbsp;I had about a year to develop the whole piece, and I only brought in the musicians and lighting designer towards the end, about two or three months before the premiere. I wanted live music, specifically vibraphone, played by Petra Brynychová, with sound effects created by Milan Dotlačil. Originally, I planned to add a stringed instrument, but in the end I was most drawn to the sound and melody of the bassoon, which you can hear played by Viktor Sabol. The musicians, as well as my lighting designer Lukáš Klíma, are absolute professionals – they were able to give me exactly what I needed, both musically and visually.&nbsp;Has anything changed significantly in the production since its premiere almost a year ago?&nbsp; I feel like the interactive aspect with the audience is evolving more and more, or at least my perspective on it. I still think a lot about how to work with the fourth wall throughout the performance. It’s a question of when to open up to the audience and let them know I’m aware of them, and when to stay fully immersed in the story. I also play the detective a bit differently now than I did at the premiere. Overall, I can see a shift in how I think about building characters.&nbsp;<component-embed-media src="https://s3.dualstack.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/mediaboard-publishing/blogs/WS9FUkGnR9g1lRrGTxrOXxoaFQbJ18DX" alt="Photo: Darek Hoffmann" visible_alt="true" url="" content_type="image/jpeg" type="image"></component-embed-media>Do you have any pre-performance ritual? Something you can’t do without?&nbsp; Yes! Of course, we all wish each other “break a leg” and give each other a little kick. And whenever I hide under the coat before the performance begins, I start tuning into the characters and say a few specific phrases to myself. But I’ll probably keep those to myself. (laughs)&nbsp;And about the improvisation and interaction with the audience – was any of it pre-arranged?&nbsp; Not at all. I’ve gone through it about eight times now, so I have a sense of where it might go, but everything is based on play. For example, I need someone to give me a thumbprint in my notebook. At first it’s just the thumbprint, which can already be quite funny, since not every spectator immediately understands what I want. Then I ask for the index finger, the ring finger, the little finger, and then again from the thumb, speeding up the tempo, building the situation. Then, once I am in the role of the detective, I suddenly stop, very seriously, and move on to the next suspect. I think the audience enjoys these interactions. And of course, so do I.&nbsp;At one point I thought that the woman giving the fingerprint might have been planted…&nbsp; I actually know her, but she had no idea what was going to happen. I don’t really distinguish whether it’s someone I know or not. I approach it the same way every time, and I love situations when the audience doesn’t want to cooperate. That’s when the real, authentic moment happens.&nbsp;And one last question: Sherlock Holmes or Hercule Poirot?&nbsp; For me, it’s Columbo. Even though we use iconic music from Sherlock or The Pink Panther. But Columbo will always be number one.&nbsp;<component-embed-media src="https://s3.dualstack.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/mediaboard-publishing/blogs/6fq5OBtG0q8wN42fafmTXMcsurgms9pQ" alt="Photo: Darek Hoffmann" visible_alt="true" url="" content_type="image/jpeg" type="image"></component-embed-media>&nbsp;Author: Tomáš ChudobaPhoto: Darek Hoffmann&nbsp;

Ivana Kalová: My goal is to make theatre for everyone

The production is built on a combination of realistic acting and cabaret stylization. Musical numbers appear repeatedly at the beginning, during scene transitions, and at the end, creating a clearly structured rhythm through the performance. These are not mere embellishments, but an integral part of the composition that helps the audience navigate the situations unfolding. The opening song about the destructive power of money serves as a clear example. The contrast between the serious subject matter and the light form it takes does not feel disruptive; on the contrary, it generates tension that keeps the performance in constant motion and allows it to shift between irony and seriousness without losing meaning.&nbsp;<component-embed-media src="https://s3.dualstack.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/mediaboard-publishing/blogs/fr6riAzlLNH0VOy8CVaQ0sYpz8RyZD3V" alt="Photo: Linda Dobrovolná" visible_alt="true" url="" content_type="image/jpeg" type="image"></component-embed-media>In the context of the current political situation in Slovakia, the theme of lies and manipulation gains much urgency. What might otherwise function asthe general moral dimension of Ibsen’s text becomes, between the lines, strikingly concrete. Thus, the production does not come across as a mere interpretation of a classic, but rather as a living commentary that holds&nbsp;a mirror up&nbsp;to society.&nbsp;<component-embed-media src="https://s3.dualstack.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/mediaboard-publishing/blogs/XtztqsBJQTHo3aCDeGjLUU5TlZbBYIJX" alt="Photo: Linda Dobrovolná" visible_alt="true" url="" content_type="image/jpeg" type="image"></component-embed-media>The creators work with subtle humorous references as well as meta-lines. For instance, suggested baby names such as Nora or Hedda immediatelytriggered audience reactions, as they refer to heroines from other Ibsen plays. The production also features precise comic timing, a breaking of the fourth wall towards the end, and playful use of language. This is particularly evident in a wordplay where the Slovak phrase “pre ľud” (for the people) transforms into “prelud” (an illusion) within a song. However, this specific use of language may present a barrier, especially for audiences who do not understand Slovak or Czech.&nbsp;All actors remain present on stage throughout the entire performance. When a character is not part of the current situation, they sit on a chair and, in a frozen pose, cover their face with a newspaper as if reading. This simple principle enables smooth transitions between scenes while also creating a strong visual motif that holds the acting space together.&nbsp;<component-embed-media src="https://s3.dualstack.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/mediaboard-publishing/blogs/yQ2tXRHdHDnfEaUwvarTa6SeqJqvhaw9" alt="Photo: Linda Dobrovolná" visible_alt="true" url="" content_type="image/jpeg" type="image"></component-embed-media>The performances are convincing and natural across the entire ensemble. From the self-assured Dr. Stockmann (William Heringes), through his calculating sister Petra, the town’s mayor (Emily Bédi Drobňáková), to the more comic duo of journalists Hovstad and Billing (Daniel Zwach, Richard Labuda).&nbsp;The cabaret atmosphere is further enhanced by live piano music which accompanies the songs but also serves as a source of sound effects, such as a doorbell. The music helps maintain the contrast between the lightness of form and the seriousness of the subject. Overall, the production presents an unconventional yet functional synthesis of humour and drama.&nbsp;Author: Tomáš ChudobaPhoto: Linda Dobrovolná&nbsp;

The combination of realistic Ibsen and cabaret works surprisingly well

The title WHODUNIT refers to a subgenre of detective and crime stories in which the main focus lies in identifying the perpetrator. From the very moment of entering the hall, the audience was immersed in a mysterious atmosphere, enhanced by smoke and the tones of a vibraphone. The unusual circular arrangement of the auditorium suggested that this would not be a conventional theatrical experience. At the centre of the stage stood a figure hidden beneath a coat, illuminated by a beam of light. Kalová worked with the gradual revelation of her hands, eventually uncovering her head and beginning to portray the characters of the detective story – a woman and a detective.&nbsp;<component-embed-media src="https://s3.dualstack.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/mediaboard-publishing/blogs/y0iCVEkYCFNxX3GhHiPtGLPZa2CGJooE" alt="Photo: Darek Hoffmann" visible_alt="true" url="" content_type="image/jpeg" type="image"></component-embed-media>The two characters were clearly distinguished through movement stylization as well as lighting changes. While the woman moved gently under a pink spotlight in a pantomimic style, the detective’s portrayal leaned more towards physical theatre. A recognizable element appeared in the form of the coat, reminiscent of the one worn by the iconic television character Lieutenant Columbo. The circular auditorium created an intimate atmosphere that absorbed the audience and drew them directly into the centre of the action. Kalová skilfully performed in all directions, ensuring that no viewer was deprived of her expressive facial work. At the same time, some audience members did not yet realize that they would soon become part of the story. In this sense, the spectator became an essential partner for the performer.&nbsp;It is worth mentioning the inventive and carefully considered use of props, although one might question whether a braid of hair can truly be called a prop. Its length allowed Kalová to use it as a substitute for a pen, with which the detective appeared to take notes. In another moment, she casually placed a strand of hair under her nose, creating the image of a thoughtful investigator. Another striking visual moment involved a powder compact, the contents of which she poured onto the floor before lying down and outlining her body in the white substance, echoing the chalk markings found at a crime scene. At the same time, visible traces of other things remained in the powder. A red string, symbolizing the connections between clues on an evidence board, was then woven through the audience.&nbsp;<component-embed-media src="https://s3.dualstack.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/mediaboard-publishing/blogs/d2TvId9oIsJp8oP8S5HC6igoI5LRBiJ9" alt="Photo: Darek Hoffmann" visible_alt="true" url="" content_type="image/jpeg" type="image"></component-embed-media>The humour was situational,&nbsp;mostly stemming from interaction with the audience. It was enough for a spotlight, accompanied by dramatic music, to fall on a spectator who happened to be drinking, and the room would erupt in laughter. Gradually, Kalová involved five audience members, repeatedly returning to them with a suspicious expression. Situations introduced at the beginning of the performance reappeared towards the end in the same form, but within a different context, offering a new perspective.&nbsp;When this production was being put together, the music was originally intended to come from all corners of the space, as bassoonist Viktor Sabol explained in the post-performance discussion. This idea was ultimately abandoned, as the musicians would not have been able to hear one another. Since mutual connection, as well as connection to the performer, was essential, they performed from one side of the hall. Alongside the bassoon and Petra Brynychová’s vibraphone, Milan Dotlačil created sound effects using percussion.&nbsp;Using only movement, the body, gestures, facial expression, music, lighting, and the single word “Hubert”, this performance offered an experience that audiences will undoubtedly remember.&nbsp;<component-embed-media src="https://s3.dualstack.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/mediaboard-publishing/blogs/jA6vjXXkoY9w18Qk6rmnWhHOpx16dilc" alt="Photo: Darek Hoffmann" visible_alt="true" url="" content_type="image/jpeg" type="image"></component-embed-media>Author: Tomás ChudobaPhoto: Darek Hoffmann

At Studio Marta, as part of the SETKÁNÍ/ENCOUNTER 2026 International Festival of Theatre Schools, the (originally graduation) performance WHODUNIT by the Department of Nonverbal Theatre at Prague’s HAMU took place. The author and performer is Ivana Kalová, accompanied on stage by a trio of musicians. Another essential component of the performance was the very natural and humorous interaction with the audience.

Who done it?... Hubert (and Ivana) | encounter.cz

Who done it?... Hubert (and Ivana)

The dramatic text and the concept of the production emerged as a result of the creators' collective reflections on relationships in the contemporary world. It draws inspiration from the books Radikale Zärtlichkeit (Radical Tenderness) by Seyda Kurt, Was wäre, wenn wir mutig sind? (What If We Were Brave?) by Luisa Neubauer, and Lieben (Loving) by Emilie Roig, as well as the ideas of philosopher Bayo Akomolafe and artist Liv Strömquist.&nbsp;Four characters reflect on their visions of relationships, their thoughts interspersed with musical interludes in the form of songs. The first movement is dedicated to the theme of falling in love; in it, we examine the social construct of romantic expression (ranging from holding hands to the trajectory of an "ideal" date). This character’s closing monologue is an almost uncritical profession of love to a partner. In the second character’s speech, the complexities of relationship crises begin to creep in. We explore feelings of jealousy, betrayal, and infidelity. A central question arises: why do we equate finding true love with a guarantee of eternal happiness? A&nbsp;cathartic&nbsp;musical interlude follows, after which the action shifts back to the narrative of the penultimate character—this time concerning how love influences our vision of the future. The final character bridges the realms of friendship and romantic relationships, expressing the conviction that friendship provides a broader space for communication than romance does.&nbsp;Despite the fact that each character has their "own theme," we perceive the performers more as a single organism. This is reflected not only in the naturally fluid transition from one topic to the next, but also in the perfect harmony of the performers' actions—in their dancing, their intentionally "campy" or stylized singing, and the precise timing of their lines. The stage space expands into the front of the hall but also along the walls of the audience section, while some audience members are seated directly on the stage. The idea of the play's main theme "growing into" the minds of the audience is illustrated via a narrow strip of fabric that winds inconspicuously from the stage to the feet of the audience in the auditorium. Its connection to a larger piece of fabric on stage acts as an "umbilical cord" connecting all elements of the performance. The set is dominated by gender-neutral costumes in shades of green. The visual aspect of the performance is successful, overall, and this is&nbsp;further enhanced by the basement stage itself, which suits the piece perfectly.&nbsp;<component-embed-media src="https://s3.dualstack.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/mediaboard-publishing/blogs/6FD5EyqTEYvBdid8JCpQVA4XAWgUsHcH" alt="Photo: Nik Machal" visible_alt="true" url="" content_type="image/jpeg" type="image"></component-embed-media>The production Co-radical Togetherness offers answers, but even more questions—in the best sense of the word. It forces the audience to reassess their relationships (and not just romantic ones) through the lens of power structures. Among other things, it points out possessive behaviour in partnerships and analyses jealousy and infidelity, identifying these phenomena—rooted in our subconscious for centuries—as the results of a hierarchical and unequal understanding of relationships. The production appeals for a reappraisal of human coexistence; it calls for open-mindedness, courage, open communication without prejudice, and a liberation from normative frameworks. From the visually engaging scenography and the perfect interplay of the performers, a highly pressing question emerges with bittersweet clarity: How do we want to love?&nbsp;<component-embed-media src="https://s3.dualstack.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/mediaboard-publishing/blogs/iWDDJwYfgSf59rY1VWAbUydLY95zHDG6" alt="Photo: Nik Machal" visible_alt="true" url="" content_type="image/jpeg" type="image"></component-embed-media>Author: Anna SeifertováPhoto: Nik Machal&nbsp;

The Berlin University of the Arts (Universität der Künste Berlin) invites the audience waiting in the foyer of the basement stage at Divadlo Husa na provázku into the intimate space of its production, Co-radical Togetherness.