introduction
Born in Prague 1952. His father was a composer and a director of a modern theatre. His mother was a writer.
He studied journalism at Charles University.
As a songmaker and pianist he has staged over 2500 performances in clubs and theaters around the Czech and Slovak Republic.
In the past couple of years several his books have been published in this country:
- The Hour of Spirits (Hodina duchů; poems)
- Quick, before I forget it! (Rychle než to zapomenu; memoires)
- Isn't there a suspended coffee anywhere? (Je tu nějaký zavěšený kafe?; collection of magazine feature articles)
- Anything about New York (Cokoli o New Yorku, travelogue)
- Anything about Denmark (Cokoli o Dánsku; his impressions of Denmark and reflexions on the ties between the Danes and the Czechs)
- travelogues from the way to Iceland, to Chile etc.
He has also made four albums of his songs that are based on poetic lyrics and untraditional music: The album titles includes:
In the last six years he has worked for the Czech TV and made more then sixty programmes.
Tiptoeing over eggshells
(Czech Business Weekly, By: Jana Kománková, 21. 01. 2008)
Jan Burian , a Czech singer-songwriter and poet, has just released an album called “Men Are Fragile” containing over 20 short songs about men who try to cope with life—and pull women—by either hiding their fragile nature or emphasizing their machismo, failing hilariously in most cases. CBW asked him why he wrote the album.
Jan Burian , a Czech singer-songwriter and poet, has just released an album called “Men Are Fragile” containing over 20 short songs about men who try to cope with life—and pull women—by either hiding their fragile nature or emphasizing their machismo, failing hilariously in most cases. CBW asked him why he wrote the album.
Q: Why did you call your latest CD ‘Men are Fragile?' Do you regard this as a timely or topical subject or did the theme mature in your mind of its own accord?
A: When I get interested in a subject, I never give much thought to it being or not being in line with the times or how up-to-date it is. It sparks my interest and that's enough. It would be difficult for me to work on something only because it is timely for society.
Q: Sure. I only ask whether you regard this theme as part of the spirit of our times, with a bearing on the way we live.
A: I don't know that spirit is responsible, perhaps only a media spirit, but it is a fact that articles about the vulnerability of men are being published more often now.
Q: Could you tell us about your band Křehcí muži (Fragile men).
A: Křehcí muži is a blanket name for all of us who produced the CD; my son Jiří [Gregory Finn], Mikoláš Růžička, our drummer Jan Janečka and various guests. We are fragile inside but it should not be too obvious on stage.
Q: You talk a lot about the fragility of men in songs such as ‘Small Town Rebel,' ‘Milan—The Shining Beefcake,' ‘Adrenaline —Jiří,' ‘Mentally Bald – Václav,' and ‘Grey – Jára.' Do these songs have anything in common?
A: The stories are about contemporary human beings living among us. That's what they have in common. Each of them has his own problems, the common denominator of which could perhaps be something that I call fragility. ... In short, they find it difficult to cope with their lives in the world into which they were born.
Q: Are the men in your songs exceptional or do you see them as typical examples of what men are like in the year 2008?
A : I hope they are both. I would hate to write anything designed for mass consumption. On the other hand, they do carry in them certain typical, perhaps natural symptoms—often they are not even aware of their own flaws.
Q: One exception is a song about Lukáš, a man who wants to cry in public. Your comment about this is that it is a ‘strange strategy' that does not ‘turn out well in practice.' What else is the poor guy to do then?
A: Perhaps he should try to get his emotional reactions in balance, stop pretending and just be as he is. As we know, women do not like men trying to appear like tough guys at any cost. But such a soppy, desperate specimen is also repulsive, no?
Q: But emotional balance is subjective and rarely seen …
A: Well, yes, I am sorry. Many women say this and some gesticulate resignedly saying things like, ‘There are no real men at all.' … To this I usually remark in a low voice that people in general are becoming like goods that are hard to come by.
Q: The singer Björk once said that the most difficult fate of our times is that of white, heterosexual males born in Europe because such men ‘have to tread carefully all the time.' I think there is a lot of truth in that. What about you?
A: On the other hand, I do not know any better lot (laughs). … I don't think I would like to change places with a guy from outside Europe who takes everything as read and steps everywhere with the full soles of his feet. Our life is complicated, and for myself I must say that when I watch those outside Europe, how confident they appear in what they do, I prefer walking on tiptoe now and again.
Q: And what about becoming a woman?
A: Thanks for your offer! But you are asking a fragile man; I am not sure whether I would be able to carry a woman's lot. Until now I experienced only two months maternity leave as a ‘research fellowship'—and that was no bed of roses.
Q: In your song “Kluci z naší třídy” (Boys From My Class) you tell with a degree of fatality a story about classmates who ‘married their mommies' and later their wives were left alone. Do you think this happens a lot today?
A: It is difficult to say. I don't know if today's children always carry these early influences from their parent's home with them as a model. The song was a warning addressed to feminists not to blame only men for the fragile condition of the masculine soul in our time. There are others to blame too.
Q: Do you feel that these poor souls face greater pressures now then they had to cope with in the past?
A: We are probably all under more pressure then we used to be in the past, talking in terms of the pressure and pace of our civilization. But men—and I think there is even scientific research confirming this—are less immune, their resistance to stress is weaker.
Q: There are hardly any female characters in the songs on your CD—with the exception of a mistress destroying her lover's toothbrush. What role do you think women play in the issue?
A: Do you know, I noticed this only after the CD had been completed? It could be an interesting insight because the previous CD—of women's stories—called ‘Dívčí válka' (Girlish War) was also full of male characters. Perhaps we are more solitary creatures then we appear to be, or perhaps women do not play an especially important role in our crisis. … That would need thinking over.
Q: So what does play the most important role? Or is that a dumb question?
A: It is not dumb, only I do not know the answer. You could perhaps support an argument that men are on the surface more team spirited or more friendly beings, but inside we are consumed with an unexpected loneliness.
Q: Do you see the rise of gender politics and the feminist cause as more nails in the coffin of fragile masculinity?
A: I think that along with proliferating radical feminism, which is as ruthless as machismo, there have also come views based on understanding. On the one hand there is equality for women—and there is still a lot of work to be done in this area—and on the other hand let us believe that women can help us with searching for our identity, or at least they won't do any harm.
Q: You travel a lot, and regularly accompany tourists to Iceland as a guide. Do you think the role of men and its evolution is roughly the same everywhere in Europe or is it quite different in a place like Iceland?
A: Well, they are roughly similar, only some countries, like those in Scandinvia, have gotten further ahead than we have as far as the issue of equality is concerned, while others—Portugal for instance—are lagging behind. But it is always instructive to learn about these small differences.
Jana Kománková is a music journalist for monthly Report and a DJ at Radio 1
Jan Burian
(written by Pavel Klusák, Prague 1996)
A little something about Jan Burian for those a little less au courant. Burian always had a good head on his shoulders. The same cannot really be said, however, about the vocal chords in that head, but since he's been writing songs for so long now, he has in the meantime even learned how to sing passably. Together with his friend Jiří Dědeček, he spent about fifteen years poking fun at Communists. When they figured out what he was up to they paid him back by never letting him put out a record. This recording, Burian's first, came out only after the Changes of November 1989, but no one then had the time, or was in the mood, to listen to the lyrical songs which should really be seen in print at least once to get the gist of them.
Since that time, Burian has put out a few records. Each one sounds completely different than the other. With each new repetoire, Burian manages to get rid of his former listeners, sort of like a tree gets rid of its leaves in the autumn. Only the most faithful - and the most ignorant - have stood by him. Recently, Burian got the feeling that it was all behind him, and he stopped writing songs: instead, he's putting Czech poetry to music (Poesie, CD Bonton Music 1994), and trying to use it to drown out the young people who come to his concerts at secondary schools. He also now hosts a regular television talk-show where the guests have thirty minutes to be intelligent and interesting, and, on top of that, they are forced to listen to a song by Burian. When he travels somewhere, he always writes a book about it (he's done that four times, so far!), because, after all, it was something his mother used to do.
Today, he no longer plays the synthesizer. Instead, he tosses various objects into a piano and pretends that his piano sounds that bad naturally. Sometimes his seventeen-year-old son Jiří accompanies him on drums (piano and drums, definitely the wave of the future).
After years of trying to get onto the hitparade, Burian has finally become a professional concierge, and he is said to be rising fast on the concierge charts at least for the time being.
OFF THE WALL
(THE PRAGUE TRIBUNE 06/2004)
What did you want to be when you were a kid?
I wanted to be big. Now sometimes I wouldn´t mind if it were the other way around.
What country would you like to live in?
Right here in Bohemia. We could be a little more kind-hearted, educated, tolerant, honest, cheerful, maybe like the Danes.
What truth about yourself would you like people to know?
In fact it isn´t my desire for anyone to know anything about me. Maybe just that I´m a good guy; that I´m talented and audacious.
What is your favorite daytime activity?
I don´t know, but I have the feeling that there´s something I´d much rather be doing. Like getting up in the morning, going to the bathroom, and smiling at myself in the mirror. But usually some older, bald guy is standing there wondering what´s going on.
Where will you never go back to?
School. I really regret it, because I´m only half-educated, like almost all of our generation.
What is never missing from your fridge?
Food. Sometimes there are even some cosmetics or medicines there, or film for my camera.
Your favorit saying?
It´s better to be happy than rich, if you can´t have both.
Your favorite insult?
"Blocked artery", from the Woody Allen movie Everyone Says I Love You. The son of the character played by Alan Alda was always expressing strange and off-the-wall opinion, then it turned out that he wa sick, that he had a blocked artery. Sometimes, when my wife and I are watching the news, we wonder how many people like that, with blocked arteries, are all around us.
What do you like most about men, and what do you despise?
Creativity, playfulness, tolerance, the ability to think of others, I´m repulsed by vulgarity, judgmentalism, and self-assured behavior ehen we should be humble, empatetic, and circumspect.
What do you like most about woman, and what do you despise?
Intelligence, intuition, gentleness, sensitivity. I´m repulsed by superficiality, an inclination to hysteria, narrow-mindedness.
Have you been lucky in life?
It´s hard to say. A long time ago I won the sperm lottery, and that was a wild struggle. I still think it was worth it.
If you were organizing a dinner to which you could invite five people from any place and any era, whom would you invite?
I´d invite my great uncle Karel, my grandfather Emil, and my deceased parents, and my great grandfather František would sit a the head of the tabe – he was a cabinet maker from Rousinov, near Rakovnik. Many questions would beg answers!
Do you have to be in love to make love, or can you make love even without love?
I love myself a lot, and thank God I´m faitful to myself, and without ardent love I can´t imagine it at all. I wouldn´t be able to stand the feeling that I was two-timing.
Would you like to travel in space?
Each year I do about a hundered concerts outside of Prague, so one more stop wouldn´t kill me.
What would you like your gravestone to say?
Recently I was wandering with my camera through cemeteries, and I saw some rather depressing inscriptions. Such as: "They had no time to talk to each other" "Vanity over vanity", and son on. I´d like to have something more optimistic there, like "Occupied."
Anita Lišková