Walter Taub

Walter Taub was an actor and my uncle. This picture I took in about 1976 in the house I grew up in in Sussex. He and his wife, Luxi, visited infrequently, largely a result of the authoritarian Czech Communist government. He was fairly well known in West Germany as well as in Czechoslovakia. 

I saw him only twice on the stage, once in Salzburg at the Festival in about 1975, and once at the Burgtheater in Vienna in 1977. I understood little since my German is very rudimentary, but I do remember that he seemed to have what people refer to as "stage presence". When he made his first entrance, there was an expectant and appreciative murmuring from the audience. He waited it seemed several seconds before delivering his first line, heightening the anticipation. Perhaps it was a combination of notoriety and charisma and the audience’s response to both. An unspoken dialogue between actor and audience. He had a deep resonant voice - somewhere I've got a vinyl recording of his portrayal of Švejk which I should try and find, if only to see it corresponds to my memory of his voice from 30 years ago. 

I do remember he had a good sense of humor, something that he must have needed: he signed Charter 77, a document critical of the Communist regime in Czechoslovakia. To suppress what the government saw as seditious activities, it decreed that while he could continue to act on the Czech stage, his name could never be mentioned in the program or the reviews; a pretty good way to squash someone's career. Things could have been worse, were it not for his friendship with Willy Brandt, the West German Chancellor. Brandt intervened on his behalf and he was allowed to travel to the West (though his wife, Luxi, could never accompany him outside the country). He was thus able to continue to work both in films and on the stage. Both Lux and Walter were in West Germany in 1968 when the Russians invaded Czechoslovakia. They could have remained there; Walter had plenty of work. But Lux was determined for many reasons to return home to Prague. I never asked her about this, but my father suspected this was a decision she later bitterly regretted. 

Prague, when I visited in 1977, was pretty gray but the architecture was wonderful. The underground was being build then and I remember huge stretches of Národní, with water mains and electrical conduits dug up and suspended on scaffolding that stretched for what seemed like miles. 

Despite the political restrictions and economic mismanagement (not something on which communist countries have a monopoly, or so it seems) that meant queuing for bread and meat, Lux, as something of a celebrity, had what in relative terms was a fairly easy life. She was well known at the best restaurants in the city, and dined out regularly. But I don't think she was very happy. By the early 1990s her memory was fading and in 1995 or 96 she was taken into hospital and I went to Prague for a couple of weeks to see her. She died the day before I was due to return to France.