Victor Verney

Writing Warrior of God was a learning experience in more ways than one. I like to tell people that I could write a book about writing a book. One of the things I discovered is that authors (especially rookies) don’t decide how long a book is going to be — publishers and editors tell them how long it will be. Frontline gave me a very firm word count limit, which compelled me to delete a great deal of interesting material from my original manuscript.

Perhaps what I most regretted having to cut was an “Epilogue” detailing the singular history of the gigantic statue of Jan Žižka by Bohumil Kafka that since 1950 has overlooked Prague from the top of Vítkov Hill. This was the site of the one-eyed general’s first great victory in 1420 over Holy Roman Emperor Sigismund and an army of some 80,000 foreign crusaders bent upon burning Prague to the ground and slaughtering every man, woman and child in the city.

The history of this monumental artwork is a story-within-a-story that could easily support a book in its own right. I was convinced that, for obvious reasons, it would certainly make an interesting article for Slovo, the semi-annual magazine of the National Czech & Slovak Museum & Library. When I presented the idea to the editor, Sher Jasperse, she told me that the magazine likes to have general themes and would consider it for an appropriate upcoming issue.

As it turned out, Sher and her staff chose “Monuments and Markers: Expressions of Czech & Slovak Heritage and History” for the theme of their Winter 2009/10 issue. My story was a perfect fit for that category, and it appears on pages 9-11 of that issue under the title “Hussite Hero Rides on Against the Tides of History: The Jan Žižka Statue on Vítkov Hill.”

It also seemed to me that it would be a unique story for an art history magazine. After learned about Espace Sculpture, a quarterly magazine out of Montreal, I approached its editor, Serge Frisette, who accepted a slightly different version of this story for publication. It can be found on pages 45-46 of the Fall ‘09 issue under the title “Bohumil KAFKA, Jan Zizka monument.”

The statue and an adjoining national monument are emblematic of the full range of 20th century Czech history, encompassing anti-Austrian nationalism, Nazi occupation, Soviet totalitarianism, and post-communist capitalism. Although Kafka was no relation to his contemporary, the famed writer Franz, the story of this statue’s creation—a tortuous, 68-year ordeal—could easily serve as material for an absurdist novel of bureaucracy run amok.

Although it was first conceived in 1882, thirty-one years passed before any serious action was even begun, and then it took yet another twenty years—and four successive competitions—to decide upon the final design. It then took Kafka five years to make a life-size plaster model and another four to complete the casting mold. However, the Nazi occupation of Czechoslovakia in 1939 and the subsequent Soviet takeover in 1948 delayed the statue’s final casting and erection by eleven more years.

The statue was dismantled for badly needed repairs, part of sweeping renovations that added a museum and café to the site. The Vítkov memorial building now houses a theme exhibition of twentieth-century national history, “Crossroads of Czech and Czechoslovak Statehood”; the café sits on the roof of what was formerly a macabre Soviet-style mausoleum housing the poorly embalmed remains of three communist Czech presidents (since moved elsewhere). That a café, a symbol of bourgeois life, will be placed atop this structure is a testament to the sweeping changes seen in Prague during the turn of the century. Refurbished and swept of all traces of the Soviet occupation, the Vítkov memorial is now to function as a cultural center that will attract visitors, not repel them.

The transition of Vítkov was marked by an opening ceremony on October 29, 2009, the ninety-first anniversary of Czechoslovakia’s independence from Austria-Hungary. Kafka’s statue of the one-eyed medieval general is a frontispiece to the capstone of an envisioned “Museum Mile” to include the Czech National Museum, a proposed Railway Museum, and the Czech Military Museum located under Vítkov Hill. Once again, Jan Žižka’s legacy will be reintegrated into the larger context of Czech history—this time, as freely constructed by the Czechs themselves.

[I am indebted to Dr. Vít Vlnas of the Czech National Gallery for first acquainting me with the background to this story and providing me with relevant historical sources. I am also obliged to Prof. Mila Šašková-Pierce of the University of Nebraska/Lincoln; Steven Stastny of the Omaha Czech Cultural Club; and Emil Viklický, "The Patriarch of Czech Jazz," for their assistance with translations.]

IowaChops.com 2/17/09

   “There are three things in life people like to stare at,” Charlie Brown once declared, “a rippling stream, a fire in a fire place, and a Zamboni going around and around.” The truth of this statement can be seen at Wells Fargo Arena and ice rinks across North America, where it is a source of perpetual fascination for hockey fans of all ages. Over the six decades since Frank Zamboni developed his famed machine, it has become a fixture not only in professional hockey but throughout popular culture. Since Charlie Brown first made his observation nearly 30 years ago, various “Peanuts” characters in the comic strip have referred to it more than fifty times. The venerable ice resurfacer has popped up in several other cartoons including “SpongeBob SquarePants,” driven by Krusty Krab and slightly renamed as a “Clamboni.”

   Numerous references have been made to the Zamboni on television and in movies and song, some humorous, some less so. On the long-running series “Cheers,” Carla’s second husband was supposedly killed when he was run over by a Zamboni. In one episode of “ER,” a drunken Zamboni driver levels a group of ice skaters, sending them to the hospital. In the film “D2: The Mighty Ducks,” three of the Ducks crash one through the boards. In the musical world, the best-known example is a hit song in which the Gear Daddies confess: “Now ever since I was young, it’s been my dream / That I might drive a Zamboni machine.” The musical “Dirty Rotten Scoundrels” features the character Freddie singing about wanting his “own personal Zamboni” in the song “Great Stuff.”

      Sarah Palin, arguably the world’s most famous hockey mom, admitted in a “People” magazine interview that she always wanted to have a son named Zamboni — an idea for which her husband Todd, however, expressed little enthusiasm. Perhaps the most outrageous real-life use of a Zamboni took place when WWE wrestler “Stone Cold” Steve Austin drove one to the ring at Joe Louis Arena in Detroit to confront Vince McMahon!

   However, Life is unlikely to imitate Art (or, for that matter, the WWE) at the “Well,” thanks to the steady-handed expertise of Todd Lebel and the other three Zamboni drivers who groom the ice for Chops games and other skating events. … [Full Story]

   Tom Wolfe once famously declared that “You can’t go home again.” While that may well be true (and my personal experience tends to confirm that assertion), you can always at least write home via e-mail or an old-fashioned letter. On a professional level, it can be done with a contribution to one’s hometown newspaper or magazine, which is what I recently did. An old buddy of mine, John McMahon, himself a regular contributor to Artvoice, a weekly magazine out of Buffalo, got in touch with me after the Iowa floods of June ‘08 and suggested I might wish to write a story about them from the perspective of a former Buffalonian.

   John put me in touch with Geoff Kelly, Artvoice’s editor, who liked the idea. In fact, he ended up using it as the cover story for the July 3, 2008 issue under the title “Iowa Dispatch: After the Flood.” [To read the story as it appeared on Artvoice's Web site, click here; to read it as it appeared in the print edition, click here].

   I was quite gratified when I learned that the Association of Alternative Newsweeklies featured the story as an “Editor’s Pick,” as seen on its Web site, Altweeklies.com. The AAN represents 129 papers published in 41 states, the District of Columbia and four Canadian provinces, and through its Web portal strives to bring high-quality journalism to an international audience with a different perspective than generally found on wire-service and daily-newspaper websites. Recognition by one’s peers is especially flattering!

   I’ve been familiar wth the Web site All About Jazz, widely regarded as the single best Web site on the topic, for some time. The range, authority and overall quality of this site is very impressive, whether one is a musician, an aficionado, or just a casual fan. Perhaps the coolest thing about this site is its across-the-board comprehensive attention to all aspects of this subject — not just CD reviews, but also videos, artist profiles and interviews, education, regular columns, concerts and festival notes, global information, artwork, blogs, booking and management, associations and societies, recording outlets, radio stations, print publications … and even book reviews.

   This latter category was my entree into “AAJ.” After writing a long book review of a Bill Evans biography, How My Heart Sings by Peter Pettinger, for “The Compulsive Reader” (see my literature section), I was quite gratified by the kind words of praise I received for it, in some cases from pretty tough critics. Given the huge readership “AAJ” has, as well as its thorough-going excellence, I decided that this ought to be the place where I do my jazz writing. I submitted my essay on the Evans bio to them, and in less than two weeks it registered nearly 900 hits!

    I’ve reviewed two other books for AAJ: 88 Keys: The Making of a Steinway Piano, a fascinating little volume by Miles Chapin, great-great grandson of the founder of Steinway & Sons; and The Hammond Organ: Beauty in the B, a comprehensive history of this iconic instrument by Mark Vail.

Subsequent pieces include an account of a jazz seminar given by pianist Benny Green at Drake University in Des Moines and a DVD video of a Japanese concert by Keith Jarrett: Tokyo Solo, as well as an ever-growing number of CD reviews, most recently Emil Viklický 60.

* Viva by Argentine trumpeter Diego Urcola
* Call It A Good Deal by alto saxophonist David Bixler

* Cookin’ in Bonn by Czech pianist Emil Viklický
* Vienna Dialogues by soprano saxophonist Dave Liebman
* Jazz Fiddle Revolution by violinist Christian Howes
* The General by Swedish saxophonist Fredrik Lindborg

* A Reason for Being Alone by pianist Alex Levin
* Mose Allison Sings by the great Mississippi singer/pianist
* Live at Jazz Standard Volume One by guitarist Russell Malone
* Mosaic by Caribbean Jazz Project featuring Dave Samuels

* Baltimore Jazzscapes by an assortment of artists from that city
* Bill Evans Songbook Vol. One by William Montgomery
* Bebo by the venerable Cuban pianist Bebo Valdés

   A forthcoming AAJ piece is a profile of the renowned Brazilian trumpet and flugelhorn player Claudio Roditi. After an illustrious career playing for luminaries like Dizzy Gillespie, McCoy Tyner, and countryman Airto Moreira, Roditi is looking to raise his profile as a bandleader in his own right. My story describes a rehearsal he led with local sidemen prior to a Sept. ‘09 concert at a central Iowa community college, along with an extended interview.

   Politically speaking, one of the hazards of living in Iowa — the first proving ground on the long road to the White House — is the risk of overexposure to would-be Presidential candidates of all stripes, ad infintuum, ad nauseum, ad delirium. I’m now entering my third election cycle in Iowa, an experience made more severe by having been a working journalist. This required me to follow these self-important windbags around the state to various VFW posts and high school gymnasiums and watch them eat pancakes, shake hands, kiss babies, and tell anyone and everyone within earshot that they’re all for America’s Hard Working Families. Obviously, I’m suffering from burnout. But there’s something else that has bothered me increasingly.

   Now I have no problem if someone without a real job like, say, Rudy Guiliani, wants to hang out at the local firehouse describing how wonderful he is and why he’s smarter than anyone else — that’s his affair. And if governors like Bill Richardson and Mitt Romney want to neglect the business of their respective states to talk about themselves incessantly to a bunch of farmers at the neighborhood Ma-and-Pa cafe … well, that’s New Mexico’s and Massachusetts’s problem.

   But when I see (and see, and see some more) senators and congressmen spending as much time here in the cornfields as they do in the halls of Congress, that bugs me. I can’t help thinking that perhaps if our elected national representatives spent a little more time and energy addressing the very pressing international and domestic problems facing this country as legislators, and a little less time daydreaming about how they’d do it as the Chief Executive from a seat in the Oval Office, maybe Congress would get something done once in a while.

   So, while writing cranky letters to the editor of the local paper is not standard activity for journalists, it seems to me we shouldn’t be precluded from doing it once in a while, either, when the urge strikes. This I did, sending a little missive to both the Des Moines Register (the local daily) and Cityview (the local alternative weekly) where it was published under the title “Senator M.I.A.” (Read the letter here).

One of the giants of modern jazz piano, Kenny Barron, performed at the Des Moines Civic Center in December ‘06, and he also gave a presentation at Rieman Music in which he discussed some of the piano players who influenced his musical development. I was privileged to be there and to get a brief interview with him afterwards; I wrote the story up under the title “A Musical Autobiography.”

   A mid-length piece of mine, recounting Leo Tolstoy’s combat experiences as a young Russian army artillery officer in Chechnya, was published in the January/February ‘07 issue of Military History magazine. After a sordid adolescence playing the part of a dissolute young nobleman careening head-long towards an ignominious fate, Tolstoy joined the army and was by all accounts a reasonably conscientious soldier. He spent his spare time writing, and returned from the Crimean War not a military, but a literary hero. The rest, as they say, is (literary) history. [read story here]

As a result of delving into the music of Bebo Valdés and Paquito D’Rivera (along with watching the movie The Buena Vista Social Club), I became interested in the history of Cuban jazz. After reading a couple of good books on the subject, I rented Calle 54, a very well-done work by Spanish filmmaker Fernando Trueba on the subject and wrote an extended critique of it, “Seeing Music and the Challenges of Filming Jazz.”

   Military History magazine accepted two mid-length articles of mine. The first of these, on Lord Byron’s involvement in the Greek War of Independence against the Turks, was published in the December ‘06 issue. Like that of Tolstoy after him and numerous others before and since, Byron’s military stint served to draw a decadent aristocrat into a cause larger than himself and both enlarge his humanity and toughen his moral fiber. Unlike Tolstoy, however, Byron’s self-imposed martial cure for soul-sickness proved fatal. [read story here].

   An article involving the National Czech & Slovak Museum & Library in the Cedar Rapids Gazette was a review of an exhibit of artwork by Andy Warhol (who happened to be Slovak-American) that ran from late 2006 through early 2007. The exhibit included the rarely-seen “Cowboys and Indians,” one of his last series before his death in 1987, as well as some of his signature silk-screen portraits of celebrities like Mick Jagger and his well-known “Moonwalk,” which was later appropriated by MTV as a promotional image. (view story here)