Dear Friends,
As all of you know by now, recent events at Teatro LUX have
shaken up the cultural community of Pisa, as well as much of the international
community, reminding us yet again how fragile life is and how fickle and
unpredictable fate can be.
Although I have never met Raphael Schumacher, my heart is
broken to see a young man whom everyone seemed to like and admire taken from us
so soon, and my warmest thoughts and wishes go out to all his family and loved
ones. I hope he is in a better place now and that his memory will be cherished forever.
I have had the pleasure and honor of knowing the
leaders of the ‘The Thing’, the association that manages LUX, as well as the
two wonderful actors who directed the performance that was struck by tragedy
last week, and my heart and soul go out to them, too, for I have yet to meet
kinder people – here in Italy, or elsewhere. Not only were they always exceedingly
kind and generous to me and our students ever since we started our courses
there last year, I’ve also seen them interact with thousands of people over
that year, people of all ages and walks of life - performers, writers, spectators, students, visitors...
- and I have never witnessed anything but the sweetest behavior.
It wasn’t only the personal interaction that I’ve cherished
so much, and which adds so many extra layers of tragedy to this already
unbearable incident, but the community and atmosphere that they have managed to
nurture in their as-of-yet brief tenure was a marvel to me, as well as to the
thousands of fans who have enjoyed an astonishing array of cultural events at
LUX. Whenever I entered the theater there was always an air of magic and
beauty, artists honing their skills and performances, eager spectators or
workshop participants waiting to be uplifted, or leaving with beaming smiles
after having experienced yet another thought-provoking, eye-opening adventure.
Never was there the slightest sense of commercialism, or ego, or cynicism, or
aggression, or any other negative sensation; it was a space that exuded love
and welcome to all loving and welcoming people and ideas. How rare that
is today!
Nor did I ever sense anything but the highest level of
professionalism and integrity, underscored by a constant desire to create
beauty, host beauty and exchange beauty.
Yet bitter tragedy struck last week. That is undeniable. And
I wasn’t there, and will, thus, probably never know exactly what happened. Nor, it
seems, will anyone else. But I feel convinced, with every fiber of my being,
based on my first-hand experience with the organizers and directors, that the
spirit of that evening was one of pure love and generosity,
and to see tragedy strike that night has shaken me to my core, as when I see children being born with debilitating diseases, or selfless heroes
being struck down in the midst of their heroism.
There are endless theories and beliefs regarding eternal
justice, but I have yet to meet a rational person who claims to be able to explain – in
terms comprehensible to the human mind - why the generous and selfish, the
gentle and brutal, all seem to be afflicted in equal measure. Whether or not
there is a system beyond our comprehension where ‘it all makes sense,’ our
limited minds are constantly confronted with tragedies and disasters that destroy
any attempt at deciphering the grand system(s) of justice, reward and
punishment...
And for me, the events of last week fall exactly into that category. One can never be perfectly careful, or perfectly prepared to avoid any possible accident or tragedy. One must try one’s best, be as responsible as possible, but in the end there are forces that seem to be completely indifferent to our best efforts and intentions, and strike mercilessly when and where it is least expected.
And for me, the events of last week fall exactly into that category. One can never be perfectly careful, or perfectly prepared to avoid any possible accident or tragedy. One must try one’s best, be as responsible as possible, but in the end there are forces that seem to be completely indifferent to our best efforts and intentions, and strike mercilessly when and where it is least expected.
This is how I see these recent events, these are the
thoughts that have been keeping me up all week, and I hope the tide will turn
soon.
I miss LUX. I miss ‘The Thing’. And I miss the beauty and
poetry of the two sweet actors who were always there, infusing the theater with
their incessant studying, practicing and yearning to bring the world ever more
beauty and inspiration.
I would love to live in a world where everyone was like them,
and I hope this unspeakable tragedy will not scare others from their paths of openness,
generosity, innovation, exploration and courage.
I hope to be able to soon return to that atmosphere which
has welcomed me and my friends so warmly; I look forward to being once again
surrounded by that community of optimistic, loving individuals who come
together to share experiences and perspectives in an effort to make sense of
our often-cruel reality, or, if not make sense of it, at least make it more bearable
and beautiful with expressions of art, poetry, philosophy and beauty.
I thank you guys for everything you have given us over the
past year, both professionally and artistically, and I stand behind you,
vouching for your beautiful spirits and noble intentions.
I know I only have one quiet voice of an outsider, but I’m
sure there will be many others, and I am proud to be part of that chorus.
Prof. Shemtov – Tuscan English Academy
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