My friend Vania Smrkovski passed away at the end of June. His celebration of life/memorial service was Monday, July 19th, in downtown Knoxville. Most of the people knew Vania from his theatre and film work, but some of us knew him from college and work.
Vania’s memorial at Scruffy City Hall, Knoxville
A selection of Vania’s short films was shown during the memorial. So poignant to hear his voice and see his image above everyone.
After the films finished, I read a poem I wrote (included below). I wrote the poem after reading through the posts from friends on Vania’s Facebook page and from talking with my other college friends. This poem could not have been written without their input. (Many thanks to Doug McCaughan for recording the reading.)
There are links in the poem to provide context for particular phrases or words. When we were in college, a bunch of us listened to Rush. Rush’s lyrics for “Limelight” seemed especially relevant to Vania. Another link goes to a blog post he wrote in 2011. That post describes his journey realizing it was okay to be flawed and still try to be a good person. The very last link references a photoshoot Vania did with Michelle J showing what happens post-rapture with people’s clothing just laying on the ground.
Last Call
In honor of Vania Smrkovski
Memorials on your page
Hit like shattering glass in a quiet theatre
You had taken your curtain call
Leaving only an echo of your laughter
I didn’t see you at the backstage door
I would have waited for an autograph
A final signature before you left the cast for good
I should have made the drive
I should have been there
I should have … and I wasn’t.
In college, you were the tall one
Sometimes with a hat
Shaking your right wrist to jingle
the silver name-bracelet
Punctuating movements
We used to walk to Dynasty Express
Sneak a lunch of rice and soy sauce
Discuss topics loved by religious studies:
philosophy, myths, magic, eschatology
Even then, you were trusted and loved
Donovan gifted you his collected writings
Before he lept into a train
We all crashed through our 20s;
Your 20s crashed around you
And you persevered.
You put aside the alienation
Just so you could see
it was okay to be a flawed human
You explored your own humanity
Being the other, the outsider
Through writing, acting, movies
Shared freely the hard-won skills
With a greeting smile
An enveloping hug
Raising a glass at the table of Vahalla
Conversations continued like
the recitation of well-loved scripts
Never skipping a beat
Entering at our cues
Even years apart
Always a warm reception.
Always an encore until the next time.
I will wait at the theatre door
I will buy a ticket for your next performance
The matinee showing of an eschatology:
“Proof of Rapture on the floor.”
— Kim Nylander, July 18, 2021
