85 2021 | Czechamateurs

In a symbolic gesture, they held one final gathering in the attic on the night of November 17, 1989. They projected a montage of all their works—“Stíny Vltavy,” “Křižovatka,” the radio drama—onto the cracked plaster wall. As the images flickered, a single candle burned in the center of the room, its flame dancing with the silhouettes of the past and the promise of tomorrow.

They weren’t just a club of hobbyists; they were pioneers of a new frontier—home video, amateur filmmaking, and the nascent world of electronic music. The group’s members ranged from a physics student who could solder a circuit in his sleep, to a literature major who wrote poetry on scraps of film stock, to a mechanic’s son who could coax a perfect riff from a battered electric guitar. Together, they formed a tapestry of curiosity that would soon ripple far beyond the attic’s cracked plaster. The first venture of CzechAmateurs ’85 was a short documentary titled “Stíny Vltavy” (Shadows of the Vltava). Their goal was simple: capture the river’s secret life at night, when the city’s lights reflected like fireflies on the water’s surface. Armed with an old Soviet-made 8 mm camera, a set of homemade filters, and a borrowed reel of film, they set out at midnight, their breath forming clouds in the crisp April air. czechamateurs 85

The submission was made in a plain envelope, addressed only to “the curious ears of Radio Svoboda.” On the night of the broadcast, a hush fell over the attic. The tiny radio on the shelf crackled, then burst into life, carrying their voices across the city’s airwaves. Listeners in cramped apartments, factories, and even the backrooms of state offices heard the tale. For a few fleeting minutes, the city’s collective imagination was captured by a group of teenagers daring to dream beyond the constraints of their time. By 1989, the political landscape began to shift. The Velvet Revolution sparked a wave of change that swept through Prague like a sudden gust of wind. CzechAmateurs ’85 found themselves at the crossroads of history. Their attic, once a sanctuary of secrecy, became a hub for activists, artists, and journalists hungry for fresh voices. In a symbolic gesture, they held one final

The result was a piece they titled (Crossroads). It was raw, dissonant, and oddly beautiful—a sonic portrait of a city caught between the past and an uncertain future. They pressed a few copies on magnetic tape and slipped them into the hands of friends at the university, at the local record store, and even at the underground art gallery “Galerie Světla.” Word spread, and soon, a small but dedicated following began to gather at the attic for “listenings,” where the walls reverberated with the clatter of cassette players and the occasional gasp of surprise. Chapter 3 – The Secret Broadcast In the summer of 1986, a bold idea took root. The group learned that a small, independent radio station— Radio Svoboda —was planning a midnight broadcast that would be open to any amateur content, provided it was submitted anonymously. It was a risky gamble: the authorities kept a tight grip on any unsanctioned media, and a misstep could mean serious consequences. They weren’t just a club of hobbyists; they

The year was 1985, and the city of Prague was humming with the quiet excitement of a world on the brink of change. In a cramped attic above an old bookshop on Národní třída, a handful of young dreamers gathered every Saturday night, their faces lit by the soft glow of a single, battered television set. They called themselves , a name that meant nothing to anyone outside their circle but held the promise of something extraordinary for those inside.

Prologue – A Summer in Prague, 1985

Undeterred, CzechAmateurs ’85 decided to create a radio drama titled (The City in Eyes). The narrative followed a fictional photographer who wandered through Prague’s hidden alleys, capturing moments that the official narrative ignored: a secret kiss on Charles Bridge, a child’s laughter echoing from a bombed-out building, a worker’s quiet act of kindness at a factory. Interwoven with the story were snippets of their music, eerie synth drones that underscored the tension, and Jana’s poetic interludes.