Friday, 20 May 2016

‘The Folding Canvas Chair of the Actor’ by Mircea Diaconu

Reading the book ‘When winter comes here, to us’, I realized that Mircea Diaconu is not just a magnificent actor, but also a great story-teller. Consequently, when I saw the book ‘The Folding Canvas Chair of the Actor’ on a shelf in a bookstore, I did not think too much about buying it. 
I read it very quickly, fearing that soon I would finish it. And, actually, this is what makes a good book stand out. Not pompous words and praises about the skill of the writing words. No. Only that intense experience and that curiosity which keeps one reading, even though one feels sad about finishing the book.
To have the courage of not taking oneself too seriously after years and years of experience and resounding successes… well, this is for me the definition of modesty. 
Mr. Mircea Diaconu writes with an extraordinary modesty about his beginnings. Moreover, this modesty is a pledge of his immense love for his profession. Self-irony and cynicism appear also in the book, and they represent for me the tastiest ingredients one could find in the written literature. I share the same fascination with the author about autumn – for me, it had almost always marked beginnings – which he so lovely presents in some pages of his book.

‘The Folding Canvas Chair of the Actor’ is not a book about theatre or movie, in general. It is an arrow-actor willing to make all necessary sacrifices in order to get to the point where it was sent to. It is, if one wants, a ‘just for fun’ lesson about what it means to be motivated and to love (one’s profession, the public, personal life, colleagues, things around one and that encourage one, enemies, critics, texts to be memorized, and even the pictures taken for marketing purposes).

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