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Letošnji prejemnik zlatega znaka JSKD za izjemne dosežke na področju gledališke dejavnosti, pisatelj in režiser Rok Sanda (33) se je našel, kot pravimo, razmeroma pozno. V srednji šoli je ‘bluzil’ in tudi na fakulteti, kjer je vpisal kitajščino in sociologijo kulture, ni bilo nič drugače. Študij je opustil, nekaj časa delal v Mladinskem centru Krško kot vodja kulturnih in klubskih dejavnosti ter se nato kot računalničar oz. sistemski administrator zaposlil na Savaprojektu.
“To je bilo povsem nekreativno delo. V tistem zatišju, ko ti nekaj manjka, pa sploh ne veš kaj to je, se je ponovno rodila želja, ki sem jo imel že skozi celotno srednjo in osnovno šolo, ko sem ves čas nekaj pisal, risal in pesnil. Začel sem pisati zgodbice, a sem hitro ugotovil, da nimam pojma o tem, kar počnem, in predvsem, da premalo berem. Ko sem ponovno začel brati, sem ugotovil, da nimam pojma o književnosti, zato sem se začel o tem izobraževati. Na spletu sem našel predavanja o zgodovini svetovne literature, ki so zajemala vse, od Epa o Gilgamešu do sodobnih avtorjev. Vsa sem jih preposlušal, večinoma med tekom, in v tistem začutil, da moram to študirati,” pripoveduje.
Ker ga je zanimala predvsem angleška literatura, je leta 2012 na University of East Anglia v Norwichu vpisal študij angleške književnosti in kreativnega pisanja. Želel je pisati predvsem prozo, morda kakšen filmski scenarij, ase mu je v te načrte vedno znova nekako prikradlo tudi gledališče. Prvi stik z njim je imel kot gimnazijec v Brežicah, kjer je sodeloval v projektu zdaj že pokojnega igralca Slavka Cerjaka. Nekaj časa je bil aktiven tudi v gledališki skupini domačega DKD Senovo, med študijem v Angliji pa je sodeloval tudi pri nekaj študentskih produkcijah. Po koncu 2. letnika se je lotil snemanja kratkega filma Gastarbeiter, za katerega je del denarja prispevala tudi Študentska organizacija univerze, pogoj pa je bil, da iz tega nastane tudi gledališka predstava.
“V dramski tekst sem bil skoraj prisiljen, in če pogledam nazaj, je šo za zelo slab izdelek. Film je trajal 20 minut, predstava pa se je vlekla dve uri. Že med pisanjem sem vedel, da sem ga na nekaterih mestih polomil, a hkrati sem vedel, da hočem napisati še en tekst, v katerem bom vse to lahko izboljšal. In res, takoj ko sem končal Gastarbeiterja, sem se lotil Ikarusa, ki je bil kasneje nominiran za nagrado Slavka Gruma, s predstavo pa smo zmagali tudi na Linhartovem srečanju.”
Zametki Ikarusa, ki je dobil nadaljevanje v Feniksu, segajo v čas študija v Angliji, ko je iz vaje na temo zgodovina in osamljenost začel nastajati roman o ženski v okupirani Ljubljani in italijanskih koncentracijskih taboriščih.
“Zastavil sem široko raziskavo in opravil kup intervjujev, obiskal sem Rab in Gonars, vse poletje sem pisal roman, potem pa ugotovil, da je zanič.”
Podobno kot je bil iskren sam s seboj glede romana, ki ga ni nikoli dokončal, na zaključek še vedno čaka tudi dramska trilogija, ki se je začela z Ikarusom.
“Nameraval sem jo končati letos, pa teksta še ne znam napisati. Morda naslednje leto.”
Kot predavatelj na delavnicah kreativnega pisanja udeležencem najprej iz glave izbije prav iluzije o pisateljski muzi in navdihu. “Pisanje je trdo delo, pri katerem moraš biti neizprosen do sebe.” To pa zahteva tudi čas – in odkar je lani dobil status samozaposlenega v kulturi, ga ima končno nekoliko več. “S.p. je strašen strošek za umetnika. Status me je zelo razbremenil, zdaj lahko delam isto kot doslej, le da z manj skrbmi ter več samozavesti in renomeja.”
Da gre za že uveljavljenega avtorja poleg nagrad in priznanj priča tudi podatek, da je imel pri filmu Gastarbeiter na avdiciji le toliko igralcev, kolikor je bilo vlog, pri Ikarusu jih je bilo že 40, pri Feniksu pa 100. K sodelovanju ga vabijo tudi ljubiteljska gledališča, čeprav je s svojimi predstavami – za vse, ki jih je režiral, je napisal tudi dramski tekst – ljubuteljski okvir v resnici že presegel. S teatrom bi se rad v prihodnje ukvarjal na višjem nivoju in morda niti ne v Sloveniji, sploh ker prozo tako in tako že ves čas piše izključno v angleščini. Tudi pisatelja v sebi želi še naprej razvijati, zato načrtuje nadaljevanje študija, a zatadi negotovosti, ki jih prinaša brexit, dokončne odločitve še ni sprejel.
–Boris Blaić
Translation into English
This year’s recipient of the JSKD Gold Emblem for outstanding achievements in theater, writer and director Rok Sanda (33), found his path, as we say, relatively late. In high school, he was ‘drifting,’ and the same was true in college, where he enrolled in Chinese and cultural sociology. He dropped out of his studies, worked for a time at the Youth Center Krško as the head of cultural and club activities, and then got a job as a computer technician or system administrator at Savaprojekt.
“It was entirely uncreative work. In that lull, when you feel something is missing but don’t know what it is, a desire was reborn in me, one that I’d had throughout high school and elementary school, where I was always writing, drawing, and composing poetry. I started writing stories but quickly realized that I had no idea what I was doing, and above all, that I wasn’t reading enough. When I started reading again, I realized I knew nothing about literature, so I began educating myself. I found online lectures on the history of world literature, covering everything from the Epic of Gilgamesh to modern authors. I listened to them all, mostly while running, and during that time I felt that I needed to study this,” he recounts.
Since he was mainly interested in English literature, in 2012 he enrolled in English Literature and Creative Writing at the University of East Anglia in Norwich. He wanted to write mainly prose, perhaps some film scripts, but somehow theater kept creeping into these plans. His first encounter with it was as a high school student in Brežice, where he participated in a project with the now-deceased actor Slavko Cerjak. For a while, he was also active in the local theater group DKD Senovo, and during his studies in England, he participated in several student productions. After the second year, he started filming a short film, Gastarbeiter, for which part of the funding was provided by the university’s Student Organization, with the condition that it would also become a theater play.
“I was almost forced into writing a play, and looking back, it was a very poor product. The film lasted 20 minutes, while the play dragged on for two hours. Even while writing, I knew I messed up in some places, but at the same time, I knew I wanted to write another text where I could improve everything. And indeed, as soon as I finished Gastarbeiter, I started on Icarus, which was later nominated for the Slavko Grum Award, and we also won the Linhart Meeting with the play.”
The beginnings of Ikarus, which got a sequel in Feniks, date back to his studies in England, where an exercise on the theme of history and loneliness began to form a novel about a woman in occupied Ljubljana and Italian concentration camps.
“I launched a broad research and conducted numerous interviews, visited Rab and Gonars, and spent the whole summer writing the novel, only to realize it was terrible.”
Just as he was honest with himself about the novel he never finished, the conclusion is still awaited for the dramatic trilogy that began with Ikarus.
“I intended to finish it this year, but I still don’t know how to write the text. Maybe next year.”
As a lecturer in creative writing workshops, he first dispels participants’ illusions about the writer’s muse and inspiration. “Writing is hard work, where you have to be relentless with yourself.” This also requires time—and since he gained self-employed status in the arts last year, he finally has a bit more of it. “Being self-employed is a huge expense for an artist. The status has greatly relieved me, allowing me to work the same as before, just with fewer worries and more confidence and reputation.”
His established status as an author is also evident in the fact that during auditions for Gastarbeiter, there were only as many actors as there were roles, for Icarus there were 40, and for Feniks 100. He is also invited to collaborate with amateur theaters, even though his productions—for all of which he also wrote the script—have already surpassed the amateur framework. He would like to engage with theater on a higher level in the future, perhaps not even in Slovenia, especially since he has been writing prose exclusively in English all along. He also wants to continue developing the writer within himself, so he plans to continue his studies, but due to the uncertainties brought by Brexit, he has not yet made a final decision.
–Boris Blaić