While visiting Mladá Boleslav, a town about 70 kilometers from Prague, I saw many automobiles from various eras in the Škoda Museum, named after a popular Czech car manufacturer that is renowned world-wide. When I walked into the former production halls of the automobile maker, I didn’t know what to expect. I had never been to a museum featuring cars – stagecoaches yes, but cars no. I didn’t have a car and hated driving.
Still, the museum cast a spell on me as I peered at vehicles from the turn of the 19th and 20th century to the present day. The company was established as far back as 1895 by Václav Klement and Václav Laurin, when they focused on bicycles, a few of which were on display. I especially liked the two-seater for postal workers. The unicycle was another delight. I recalled how one Bagatti Valsecchi brother had mastered the unicycle in the early 20th century and how I came across a picture of him posing on one at the Bagatti Valsecchi House Museum in Milan, where Renaissance and Neo-Renaissance art took precedence.
The automobiles that most enamored me were those from the end of the 19th and beginning of the 20th century, although I enjoyed noting how the manufacturing of cars had developed over time. There are cars and bicycles on the ground floor, and after climbing many steps to a viewing platform, more cars are situated on vast shelves.
Here are some photos from bicycles and cars on display in the museum.
Tracy A. Burns is a writer, proofreader and editor in Prague.
I hadn’t visited an aviation museum before fall of 2024 because, quite simply, I had never shown much interest in planes. That all changed when I went to Mladá Boleslav, about 70 kilometers from Prague. The 25 historic planes in this collection – mostly Czechoslovak, German and Soviet – had me hooked.
Construction on the museum in a hangar of the Mladá Boleslav airport finished in 2014, and it had been open to the public since 2015. The architecture received much acclaim as it was chosen one of five buildings in the country to be dubbed “Construction of the Year” for 2014. The museum also included two plane simulators and a gyroscope. I perused period uniforms, radio equipment, watches, photography, aviation trophies and posters. From an observation tower there were excellent views of the environs. After walking up steep stairs to the first floor of the museum, I got a good look at the planes hanging from the ceiling.
I had not heard of the name Metoděj Vlach before visiting this museum. Vlach had made a name for himself as the first Czech pilot. From 1908 he worked for Mladá Boleslav’s Laurin and Klement business, known for its bicycles and cars, an enterprise that would later become the world famous Škoda automobile manufacturer. He had to use his own money to finance his flying attempts. While his first try was not successful, the second plane he produced in 1909 managed short jumps between 30 and 50 meters. However, the third time was a charm as on November 8, 1912, his aircraft, constructed from 1910 to 1912, made the first flight – reaching 20 meters in the air. It flew a distance of 300 to 500 meters at 100 km/h. The plane weighed 720 kg, and the motor, the kind an automobile used, was 28 kW. The aircraft was successful during five attempts.
One of the aspects about museum-going that I like best is learning about important historical figures and events that I had not known anything about. Learning about Vlach was one of those lessons that certainly enriched my experience at the museum. I spent a lot of time peering at the various specimens, dating from World War I to the later years of the 20th century.
The Little Beetle
A plane called the Little Beetle captured my attention. The first modern Czechoslovak amateur aircraft, the W-01 Little Beatle was built at the owner’s home in Brandýs nad Labem during the 1960s. The public set eyes on the plane for the first time in 1970. With a wingspan of 6.08 meters and an empty weight of 280 kilograms, the Little Beetle was a frequent participant in Czechoslovak air shows. It was five meters long and could fly up to 180 kilometers per hour. During the mid-1970s, international audiences took notice of the Little Beetle as it was shown off in airshows that took place in the German Federal Republic, Holland and England. Sadly, an accident in 2003 ended the Little Beetle’s career. During 2015 the specimen was brought to this aviation museum.
German Bucker Bu 130 Jungmann
I also took notice of the German Bucker Bu 130 Jungmann, a two-seater designed for training and aerobatics. It took off for the first time in May of 1934 and became a popular training aircraft for the Luftwaffe. The Germans were not the only ones to use this model aircraft, though. It received worldwide acclaim in Czechoslovakia, Spain, Japan, Hungary, Switzerland and other countries.
PO-2, The Sewing Machine or The Maize Cutter
Another plane with an interesting history was the PO-2, a prototype of a U-2 biplane that was adopted by the Soviet Air Force. It was also used for civilian aviation. More than 40,000 PO-2 planes were produced. This popular two-seater came into existence during 1927, and production started the following year. During World War II the Germans called the plane “The Sewing Machine,” describing the distinctive sound of the engine. Soviets had a different nickname for the aircraft with an engine of 100 to 115 horsepower. They dubbed it the “Maize Cutter.” It was also historically significant because a regiment of female Soviet pilots conducted nighttime air raids on Germany using this aircraft. The Germans dubbed these female military personnel “Night Witches.” Production did not stop when the war came to a close. The PO-2 was manufactured in Poland post-wartime.
Klemm L 25
I took note of another German plane. The Klemm L 25 aircraft was designed by Dr. Ing. Hanns Klemm, created in 1926. It was possible to use various kinds of engines with these training, sports and aerobatic planes. About 600 planes were manufactured from 1928 to 1939. During the 1930s the Klemm L 25 participated in competitions in Germany.
Zlín Z-50L
I also saw the Zlín Z-50L aerobatic plane made in Moravia. In the 1970s and 1980s its pilots clinched first place in international competitions, both European and world championships, while flying this plane. The last world championship won by this aircraft was as recent as 1989.
Be-60 Bestiola
The two-seater, wooden aircraft called the Be-60 Bestiola was designed in 1935 as a Czechoslovak aircraft to be used for training and tourism purposes. Its life span was relatively short, though, as production was halted not long after the 1939 Nazi Occupation. Some of these planes were flown by the fascist-oriented Slovak State during World War II. Unfortunately, there are no longer any original planes of this type in existence. The replica in the museum is quite impressive, though.
Zlín Tréner
Used for training and aerobatics, the Zlín Tréner captured my attention. It was a two-seater monoplane with low wings and first took off in 1947. Later, it was powered by a four-cylinder engine and was composed of wings and tails made of metal. The career of that prototype began in 1953. The wingspan measured 10.26 meters while the take-off weight was 750 kilograms. The engine was 105 hp, and the maximum speed it could reach was 203 km/h. The aircraft has had a stellar career and is still used for training.
G – III plane
Brothers Gaston and Réné Caudron had been plane designers since 1909. Their G-III did a loop for the first time in December of 1913. In May of 1917 ,it hit another milestone by setting a new record: It flew non-stop for 16 hours and 28 minutes. About 150 planes of this type were produced. The aircraft had a wingspan of 13.4 meters with a take-off weight of 735 kg.
Fokker E.V.
I also saw the Fokker E.V. German fighter plane from World War I. Some 289 aircraft of this model were manufactured. The planes were 5.85 meter long and utilized a 110 hp or 160 hp engine. The wingspan was 8.35 meters while the take-off weight was 605 kg. It could go as fast as 200 km/h.
ŠK – I Trempík
The two-seater ŠK – I Trempík was known for its stability. It was not difficult to take care of, either. Its wingspan measured 9.3 meters, and it was powered by an engine of 75 hp. The maximum take off weight was 578 kg, and it could fly 185 km/h.
1926 silent film with Alexander Hess as the pilot
General Hess after returning from his service in the RAF when he shot down two German planes; British royal George VI awarding Hess a medal; War plane Hawker Hurricane used by the general
On the first floor there were panels about General Alexander Hess, a pilot I had not heard of before. He also had starred in a 1926 silent Czechoslovak film as well as working as a pilot. Hess was the organizer of the Czechoslovak aircraft for the 1936 Olympics. After the Nazi Occupation in 1939, he helped pilots escape, equipping them with false passports, and General Hess wound up fleeing from the Nazi Protectorate to France and then to the USA in January of 1940. After World War II, he returned to Czechoslovakia but fled again, this time from the Communist regime. General Hess settled in New York City, where he worked as a technical assistant with PAN AM.
So I became acquainted with the career of not only Metoděj Vlach but also that of Alexander Hessman. I found the exhibit most intriguing. In fact, the entire museum was engrossing with so many planes from various countries and eras, each unique with compelling attributes. While I still despised the eight-hour flights from Europe to the USA, I comprehended the historical importance of these aircraft. In Mladá Boleslav for the first time, the city made a good impression on me. After visiting this museum, I would take a look at the Škoda Museum of bicycles and automobiles, another delight.
Tracy A. Burns is a writer, proofreader and editor in Prague.
As usual, this past year was punctuated by travel, though most trips only lasted one day or half of a day. Still, I was able to explore many sights within a two-hour distance of Prague. Once again, I realized that the Czech Republic blossoms with beauty in every niche of the country.
Perhaps the painting that best expresses my year of travel is one I saw at an exhibition of David Caspar Friedrich’s paintings from the Romanticist era. While admiring his “The Wanderer,” I saw the back of a male figure in the forefront, standing on a cliff as he peered at the mist-filled mountains beyond. It epitomizes why I love travelling: to discover new worlds, to muddle through that mist, reaching a clarity that allows me better to understand myself as well as to gain historical knowledge.
By David Caspar Friedrich, on display at Albertinum for temporary exhibition
In the Dresden Albertinum, I was mesmerized by Friedrich’s landscapes. Many featured vibrant colors and a brilliant use of light. He also created dark paintings with a chiaroscuro element that gave them a mystical appearance. Some of his landscapes included a solitary figure traveling alone in nature. Friedrich’s gnarled trees in barren environments were symbolic. I felt especially drawn to his portrayal of mountains in shades of pink.
By Marc Chagall, on display at Albertina in Vienna for temporary exhibition
By Paul Gauguin
By Hoogstraten, Rembrandt’s pupil
I spent three days in Vienna going to major exhibitions featuring works by Chagall, Gauguin and Hoogstraten, a star pupil of Rembrandt. I hadn’t realized how many of Chagall’s paintings took on Jewish themes and serious topics. I had always thought of Chagall’s art as fun-loving and colorful. My favorites were those inspired by Paris and the circus, created in bright blues and yellows. The Gauguin retrospective showed his works from various time periods, so it was possible to see his specific artistic developments. I was most impressed with his early landscapes. I had not heard of Hoogstraten, whose portraits brought out the soul in the sitters just as Rembrandt’s did. His intriguing use of perspective in some paintings also impressed me. Works by Rembrandt also enchanted me in this exhibition.
Franz Xaver Messerschmidt, Character Heads
by Gustav Klimt on permanent display at Upper Belvedere
By Václav Špála, on display at Upper Belvedere
City of Vienna Museum, permanent collection
We also visited the Upper Belvedere Palace Museum in Vienna. While it is best known for its Gustav Klimt and Egon Schiele creations, I was entranced with the medieval art in the basement and the Central European collection that featured Czech greats such as Jan Procházka, Bohumil Kubišta and Václav Špála. The Klimt paintings were extremely powerful as were all the Impressionist and Post-Impressionist works. My favorite part of the museum involves the unique Late Baroque Character Heads by Franz Xaver Messerschmidt, who rendered alabaster busts of insane people with unique facial expressions. You could see into their souls. In Vienna I entered the City Museum for the first time. The exhibits trace the history of the city from the beginnings to modern day. I saw intriguing paintings, furnishings, posters and objects, among others.
by Eva Švankmajer
Puppets by Jan Švankmajer
Puppet by Jan Švankmajer
I also went to many exhibitions in the Czech Republic outside of Prague. In Kutná Hora I visited an exhibition of works celebrating the 90th birthday of Jan Švankmajer, a surreal artist, along with creations by his wife Eva. The exhibition Disegno Interno included collages, graphic art, objects, book illustrations, drawings, paintings, animated film creations and puppet theatre of both artists from the 1960s and later. Their creations included works that resemble Rudolfine Mannerist renditions as kinds of cabinet of curiosities and art inspired by Giuseppe Arcimboldo. I also noted the inspiration of the Baroque tradition in puppet theatre. Other works fell into the categories of art-brut, eroticism, fetishes and collages influenced by Max Ernst. Much of their art was deeply rooted in the writings of Edgar Allan Poet and Lewis Carrol. Scenography for Czech film was another section. I realized for the first time that surrealist art had been influenced to a great extent by Mannerist trends.
From Through Kafka’s Eyes, graphic art about The Metamorphosis
Through Kafka’s Eyes, Oto Kubín, Brindisi, 1906
In Pilsen I went to an exhibition called Through Kafka’s Eyes, featuring the art that had surrounded Kafka at the end of the 19th century and the beginning of 20th century. I saw posters for Czech art exhibitions in the early 20th century and those advertising 19th century Japanese art as well as works by stellar Czech artists. Paintings by Kubišta, colorful and vibrant, were represented along with sculpture by František Bílek. Czech artists who spent their interwar years in Paris were included, such as Oto Kubín and Georges Kars. Kafka’s own Jewish-themed drawings were a highlight. German art and literature rounded out the intriguing exhibition.
Great Synagogue, Pilsen
Great Synagogue, Pilsen
I also took the time to visit the Great Synagogue in Pilsen, the second largest synagogue in Europe and third largest in the world. On the onion-shaped dome the Star of David stood out. What I admired most was the vaulted ceiling punctuated with blue and gold adornment. Another feature that amazed me was the artistic mastery of the stained glass windows with geometric shapes and figures. The interior is furnished in Oriental style with Neo-Renaissance elements.
Pilsen, U Saltzmannů
We ate at my favorite restaurant in Pilsen, U Saltzmannů, the oldest pub in the city. The Czech food at this establishment cannot be surpassed. I had fried chicken steak this time.
Škoda Museum
In Mladá Boleslav, about 70 kilometers from Prague, I visited for the first time the Škoda Museum, named after the popular Czech automobile manufacturer. The company began making bicycles with Václav Klement and Václav Laurin at the helm in 1895 and soon developed a rich tradition of producing cars. The automobiles on display ranged from vehicles made at the end of the 19th century to those produced in the modern day. I liked the early bicycles, including a two-seater for postal carriers. The cars from the early 20th century were also favorites.
In that same city, we also visited the Aviation museum of Metoděj Vlach, which explored the history of aviation with more than 25 airplanes in the main hall, some hailing from World War I. I saw the 1913 G-III by Gaston and Réné Caudron. It had an open cockpit and 9-cylinder rotary engine. The two-seater wooden plane constructed by the Beneš company called a Be-60 Bestiola featured a 4-cylinder engine and had been flown from 1936 to 1940. The adorable W-01 Little Beetle had been used for airshows in the 1970s.
At that museum, I also learned about the career of pilot Alexander Hessman, who also had starred in a 1926 silent Czechoslovak film. He was the organizer of the Czechoslovak aircraft for the 1936 Olympics. After the Nazi Occupation in 1939, he helped pilots escape with false passports, and he wound up fleeing from the Protectorate to France and then to the USA in January of 1940. After World War II, he returned to Czechoslovakia but fled from the Communist regime, settling in the USA, where he was a technical assistant with PAN AM in New York City.
Mexican mask, Museum of Glass and Jewellery, Jablonec nad Nisou
I traveled several times to north Bohemia this past year. One time I went to Jablonec nad Nisou, where the Museum of Glass and Jewellery was located because of the rich local tradition in these fields. I was immersed in the exotic jewellery of strung and woven glass seed beads by North American Indians, using products from north Bohemia. A mask of the jaguar hailed from the Huichol Indian tribe in Mexico. Glass seed beads from Jablonec nad Nisou were used to make a necklace by the South African Zulu tribe, dated from 1880 to 1900. Jablonec has been the location of the mint for the country’s currency, so many commemorative coins were on display.
I also was impressed by buttons made of glass, metal jewellery and black glass jewellery as well as wooden and plastic jewellery. Colorful handbags, masterfully designed, also made up the collection. The Waldes Museum of Buttons and Pins included more than 5,00 buttons, clasps and buckles with the oldest dating from 9 BC. The Bohemian glass exhibition showed off glass in many styles ranging from medieval and Renaissance to Empire and Biedermeier to Art Nouveau and Art Deco to modernism and contemporary. The museum also has the largest public collection of glass Christmas ornaments in the world with more than 15,000 objects. I saw ornaments of angels, birds, cats, dogs, Santa Clauses, gingerbread men and much more, all contemporary.
Josef Lada’s Villa in Hrusice
I made my first visit to Josef Lada’s Villa in Hrusice, where that author, painter, book illustrator and scenographer had lived while making some 600 paintings and 15, 000 illustrations. I saw his paintings of idyllic village life featuring all four seasons. Children threw snowballs and make snowmen in a quaint village in one painting while a squirrel was perched attentively on a tree branch, overseeing a tranquil village scene in another. Pub scenes showed humorous drunken brawls. I would have loved to have owned one of the charming cottages depicted in his paintings. I loved the paintings of knights and dragons from fairy tales as well as the paintings representing the months of the year. His paintings of scenes from Jaroslav Hašek’s antimilitaristic, multi-volume classic about the Good Soldier Švejk in the First World War caught my attention. Many of his paintings focused on holiday traditions. I also saw his humorous drawings and caricatures.
From the First Republic of Czechoslovakia
Poster by Václav Ševčík commemorating the day of the invasion by the Warsaw Pact armies, August 21, 1968
In Prague I took advantage of the stunning exhibitions this past year. I went to two excellent shows at Kampa Museum. One featured Czech graphic art from the founding of Czechoslovakia in 1918 to the present. I saw the first star-studded designs for the Czechoslovak flag as well as many political posters from the World War II era through Communist times to the Velvet Revolution of 1989. Václav Ševčík made a poster focusing on the day of invasion of the Warsaw Pact armies into Czechoslovakia on August 21, 1968, when the country’s liberal reforms were squashed. The poster shows a blood-red tear below an eye outlined in black on a white background.
Vítězslav Nezval, Alphabet, with typography by Karel Teige
Kampa Museum, Identity exhibition of graphic art, Cindy Kutíková
Other sections concentrated on magazine and book design. I saw beautiful children’s volumes illustrated by Lada, Josef Čapek and Jiří Trnka. I was drawn to the covers and typography of Karel Teige, an avantgarde interwar artist. The exhibition showcased contemporary times by displaying a colorful, large Quantum Beaded Sweater created in 2020 and 2021 by Cindy Kutíková, for instance.
Václav Tíkal, 1944
Otakar Nejedlý, Waterfall, 1913-14
Another exhibition at Kampa Museum focused on paintings from the private collection of entrepreneur Vladimír Železný, purchased for his Golden Goose Gallery. Called The Goose on Kampa, the show featured 70 paintings representing works from the beginning of the 20th century through the 1960s, such as creations by Toyen, Jiří Štyrský, Špála, Emil Filla, Jan Zrzavý and Mikuláš Medek. One painting that caught my undivided attention was Václav Tíkal’s 1944. A hand partially covered in a ripped black glove showing the fingertips, thumb and part of the palm was emerging out of the frozen, snow-covered earth in a barren landscape.
Otto Gutfreund, Viki, 1912-13 from Cubist period
On that day I also explored the Kampa Museum’s permanent collection, specifically the sculptures of Otto Gutfreund, whose early works can be classified as Cubist. His later creations, made after World War I, featured traits of Civilism, which promoted themes of everyday life.
Bohumil Hrabal, 1952, Tragedy! What a Tragedy!
At the Museum of Czech Literature, I greatly appreciated a small exhibition due to my interest in the works of the late 20th century Czech fiction writer Bohumil Hrabal. The modest show emphasized the artistic relationship and friendship of Hrabal and abstract artist Vladimír Boudník, who created the “Explosionism” style. I was most impressed by Hrabal’s collages from the 1950s. One featured a Singer sewing machine, a naked baby and barbed wire heading into the horizon as white crosses in a graveyard punctuated the picture. It was called “Tragedy, What a Tragedy!”
Oto Kubín, Chapel in Simione, 1926
Maurice Utrillo, Chateau de la Seigliere (Aubusson), 1930
The Wallenstein Riding Stables was the site of an intriguing exhibition about artists from Bohemia residing in Paris between the wars. They were part of the “Paris School,” which featured a variety of styles. Czechs Kars, Kubín (Othon Coubine) and Francois Zdeněk Eberl made strong impressions in the lively, vibrant Paris of the 1920s. The themes of the paintings were many: portraits, cityscapes, street life scenes, café and entertainment scenes as well as a focus on the circus and cabaret. I was drawn to Kubín’s landscapes of Provence. The lavender fields were my favorite. Also represented were foreign artists, including Marc Chagall and Maurice Utrillo.
Hendrick Goltzius, The Four Disgracers, 1588
Also at the Wallenstein Riding Stables, the exhibition “From Michelangelo to Callot: The Art of Mannerist Printmaking showed off more than 200 works of 16th and 17th century graphic art, drawings, paintings, jewelry, etchings, lithographs, ceramics and other artistic crafts that hailed from the Netherlands, Germany, France and the Czech lands. The Louvre lent Prague’s National Gallery many works. Some pieces in the collections were being displayed to the public for the first time. A superb small drawing by Michelangelo drew crowds, and art by Hendrick Goltzius, Paul Bril, Aegidius Sadeler and Niccolo Boldrini stood out to me.
Painting by Karel Kryl, temporary exhibition at House of the Golden Ring
Karel Kryl giving a concert
On my birthday I went to the House of the Golden Ring near Old Town Square. I saw an exhibition about the late dissident singer and songwriter Karel Kryl, whose music had been poetic, profound and political. He had lived in West Germany during much of the Communist era and had worked for Radio Free Europe. I realized how politically-motivated his songs had been and how he had supported the Poles as well as the Czechoslovaks in their fights for freedom. I was engrossed by his artwork, disturbing and grotesque scenes with one-legged clowns and half-human, half-creature figures.
Pieter Brueghel II
One of my favorite exhibitions of the year, taking place in Kinský Palace, was called “Get on the ice!”, featuring hockey and skating in paintings and other artistic creations. It reinforced the fact that ice hockey and skating have played significant roles in Czech and Slovak identity. I especially was impressed by the works of the Dutch masters who had inspired Czech painting. Pieter Brueghel II’s scene of skating on a pond caught my undivided attention. Czechs first represented skating on the Vltava River and on ice rinks.
Then hockey became the major theme, first portrayed realistically and then in the 1960s expressed in an experimental fashion. I was drawn to František Tavík Šimon’s “Ice Rink Under the Charles Bridge” (1917) with its large falling snowflakes and idyllic, historical setting. One example of the experimentation of the 1960s is Vojtěch Tittlebach’s “Hockey” from 1965, with abstract shapes and simple forms. The players in this painting had no facial traits. Jiří Kolář also added to the experimentation of the 1960s with his “Hockey Sticks,” composed of three wooden sticks decorated with paper collages, many of them maps and some historical scenes. The 1998 Czech Olympic victory at Nagano was celebrated in large photographs, including one that showed the moment Czech Petr Svoboda scored the winning goal while the crowd in Old Town Square erupted in joy.
New Realisms, Karel Čapek from series Cactuses, first half of the 1930s
One-Handed Ice Cream Man, Miloslav Holý, 1923
In Prague I also saw the New Realisms exhibition, which focused on modern Realist trends in Czechoslovak art from 1918 to 1945. The more than 600 works hailed from the Czech and Slovak lands as well as Germany and Hungary. I especially liked Karel Čapek’s photographs of cactuses and his dog Dašenka as this field focused on the everyday during this era. I also liked the many café scenes, realistic portraits of people, magic realism in landscapes, the focus on the societal and economic dilemmas in Czechoslovakia and the depiction of modern labor. I have always been interested in the paintings of Group 42 as their works had an existential quality, often punctuated by telegraph wires and deserted streets.
Francesco Bartolozzi, The Girl and the Kitten, 1787
One of my favorite exhibitions in Prague this past year was called “The Good Cat and the Treacherous One,” featuring cats in graphic art from the 16th to the 18th century. The art shows how some people revered cats while others hated felines. They often symbolized something or were shown for entertainment. Some considered them to be a form of the devil. Others gave them positive religious connotations. I especially enjoyed the Mannerist works by Goltzius and the graphic art by Wenceslaus Hollar, who portrayed cats with both positive and negative qualities. I saw pictures of cats symbolizing maternal love, sight, hearing, devotion, courage, yearning for freedom, foolishness, frivolity, cruelty, greed, treachery, lust and adultery. I also noticed cats as protectors against snakes. A French painting showed how, in 18th century France, cats had epitomized personal and political freedom.
Clam-Gallas Palace
I focused mostly on day trips when traveling this past year. While I visited chateaus, castles and monasteries outside of Prague, I did also become acquainted with the renovated Clam-Gallas Palace in the capital city. The Baroque palace became the property of the Gallas family in the 17th century. The palace has a rich musical and theatrical history as Mozart and Beethoven both performed there during the late 18th century. The colossal exterior portal is decorated with statuary by Baroque master Matyáš Bernard Braun, and he also created the fountain portraying Triton.
Murano chandelier in Clam-Gallas Palace
The many monumental frescoes amazed as did the chandeliers, especially the 19th century chandelier made of Chinese porcelain cups, saucers and vases. Frescoes depict the triumph of Apollo and gathering of the gods on Olympus, for instance. Allegorical figures representing sculpture, architecture and painting stand out in another fresco. I was very impressed with the former office of the first Czechoslovak Minister of Finance, Alois Rašín, though it was sparsely furnished. He had tried to gather support for the creation of Czechoslovakia during World War I and had even been imprisoned for taking part in the resistance. Rašín was assassinated in Prague during January of 1923 by a 19-year old anarchist.
Bohumil Hrabal’s cottage in Kersko
Kersko near Prague is one of my favorite tranquil spots in the country, a village where Hrabal resided from the 1960s until his death in 1997 and where he fed many feral cats daily. Hrabal’s two-story cottage opened to the public for the first time this spring. I saw the garden where he wrote some books and the charming enclosed terrace where he composed his works when weather did not permit him to spend time in his garden. I saw the chair in which Hrabal wrote his last literary piece, during 1995. The top floor was adorned with many paintings – a moving portrait of Hrabal by Jan Jirů, a drawing featuring heads of Hrabal from his youth to old age in a rendition by Jiří Anderle. Another portrayed cats on chairs in a forest setting along with Hrabal himself. Portraits of his family and a collage focusing on one of his books also caught my undivided attention. The place captured the soul of Hrabal, and I was very moved.
In the local shop, known for its ceramic figures of cats, there was an exhibition of drawings of Hrabal – at the pub, in Heaven, in Kersko, each rendition celebrating the author in a creative way. We ate at my favorite restaurant outside of Prague, Hájenka, a prominent landmark in Kersko. Whether I chose the chicken with cheese sauce, the meat with dumplings or the fried chicken steak, I was always delighted by the meal in a rustic, charming atmosphere.
Mariánská Tynice complex
I traveled about 35 kilometers north of Pilsen to pay a second visit to the High Baroque complex with pilgrimage church Mariánská Tynice, an aerial constructed by renowned architect Jan Blažej Santini during the 18th century, using geometric forms such as quadrangles and triangles as features of his Baroque Gothic style. The church with a Greek cross plan had an impressive illusionary main altar of the Holy Trinity while the east and west ambits were constructed with open arcades featuring eight chapels. The masterful painting on the vaulting and walls celebrates the lives of the Virgin Mary and Cistercian saints. The cupola of the church is lit by eight windows.
Frescoes on the walls and vaults of the ambits
Part of the complex was the Museum and gallery of the North Pilsen region. I liked the Gothic altarpieces and Baroque paintings as well as the 19th paintings of pilgrimage sights. The reconstruction of rooms resembling 19th century and early 20th century village life included a classroom, a countryside chapel and a pub.
Museum of the High-Rises, Kladno, ceramic tile on the facade
Gas masks in the nuclear bunker of the Museum of the High-Rises
In Kladno near Prague, I toured the Museum of the High-Rise, which was located in one of the six Rozdělov high-rises designed by Czech functionalist architect Josef Havlíček in the 1950s. He received acclaim during the interwar years as a member of the avantgarde and studied under Cubist architect Josef Gočár. The façade of the 13-floor building was created from ceramic material, and on that particular high-rise were ceramics of a cat and a dog. There was a small museum in one basement floor. We also visited the nuclear bunker, complete with numerous gas masks and many hard benches. The big rooftop terrace was a prominent feature for that time period. In the representative flat for the higher-ups, we saw 1950s furniture and a balcony. The flat measured about 65 meters squared, quite a luxury in that day and age.
Humprecht Chateau
View from Humprecht Chateau
I also visited many chateaus within a two-hour distance of Prague. Seventeenth century Humprecht Chateau in the central Bohemian Paradise region had an elliptical shape. Much of the interior featured hunting themes. I saw paintings of Venice, Biedermeier bookcases in the two libraries of about 4,000 volumes, a black kitchen with an original fireplace and utensils from the 17th century. The main hall featured four frescoes from the 1930s, showing scenes from the life of the Černín family, the long-time owners of the chateau. Baroque furniture decorated several rooms. The picture gallery includes works from the 17th century. What I liked best about the chateau were the panoramic vistas from the top floor.
Volman Villa
Also, not far from Prague, the newly reconstructed Volman Villa, a large, geometric functionalist structure built from 1938 to 1939, featured big terraces, a circular driveway, a monumental winding staircase and outer stairs that lead to a bridge heading into the building. It is possible to access the terrace from each spacious room. Volman used exotic materials such as travertine and marble for the construction. The marble bathrooms with beautiful pink and light blue bathtubs were vast. While there are now many trees obstructing the view, at one time it was possible to see the Labe River in the 40-hectare English park.
Grabštejn Castle, Chapel of Saint Barbara
I visited several castles and chateaus in north Bohemia – Grabštejn Castle, Jezeří Chateau and Červeny Hrádek Chateau. I was shocked at the vast improvements made during the reconstruction of Grabštejn and Jezeří as I had last visited the two about 20 years ago. Grabštejn, originally a 13th century castle, took on the structure of a Renaissance chateau in the 16th century. The 16th century Chapel of Saint Barbara featured exquisite vaulting and wall painting that included 13 apostles. One tour featured the 18th century administrative offices that made up the castle interior during that time period while another showed the rooms of the nobility, including a gigantic wall painting with chateau-like gardens and fountain. I saw furnishings and artifacts from the 16th to 19th centuries.
Jezeří Chateau, painting by Carl Robert Croll
While only a few rooms of Jezeří Chateau were opened about 25 years ago, now there are about 10 impressive spaces on the tour. I loved the paintings of Carl Robert Croll, renditions which showed the interior of the chateau during the early 19th century. I was especially impressed with the room dedicated to Jan Masaryk, the son of the first president of Czechoslovakia and once the Minister of Foreign Affairs. He was thrown out a bathroom window at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs by the Communists after the 1948 coup. The Winter Garden was light and airy, punctuated by much greenery. The lavish Theatre Hall included sculptural and stucco adornment as well as an original fireplace. The paintings throughout were impressive, too.
Červený Hrádek, Knights’ Hall
Červený Hrádek dated back to the early 15th century and gets it current appearance from the 17th century. The Knights’ Hall from that era included lavish sculptural decoration with medallions featuring battle scenes and exquisite crystal chandeliers. Other spaces harkened back to the 18th and 19th centuries with period furnishings. Seventeenth century sculptor Jan Brokoff created sculptures, fountains and vases that decorated the monumental staircase. The English style park was beautiful, too. In August of 1938 the Sudeten Party leader Konrad Henlein and English Lord Walter Runciman had a meeting there, shortly before the Munich Agreement was signed.
Dobříš Chateau Park
Dobříš Chateau Park
Because the interior had been recently renovated, I returned to Dobříš Chateau not far from Prague. I was disappointed there were not as many rooms decorated with period furniture. Instead, the self-guided tour mostly featured spaces celebrating the Colloredo-Mansfield family’s accomplishments, which were very intriguing and noteworthy, to be sure. Still, I missed the longer, guided tour and former exciting interior décor of the Rococo and Classicist eras. The Writers’ Room remained on display, decorated the way the space would have looked when the chateau belonged to the Writers’ Union from the 1950s to the 1990s. It was possible to enter one side of the spectacular Hall of Mirrors, although it was roped off and walking through the room was not permitted. The fresco-filled hall amazed with 18th century décor and eight Venetian chandeliers as well as monumental fireplaces.
Illusionary painting on the orangery in Dobříš Chateau Park
The park, measuring nearly two hectares, was the reason to visit the chateau. On that sunny summer day, it was spectacular to stroll through the Rococo style park established in the 1770s. It had five terraces, a fountain with astounding Baroque sculptural grouping and an orangery with illusionary wall painting.
Slatiňany Chateau
Interior of Slatiňany Chateau
I traveled to Slatiňany Chateau for the second time and noted the prominent hunting and horseback riding themes. The Auerspergs held on to the chateau for 200 years and were responsible for the charming interior. I loved the exquisite canopied beds decorated with religious paintings. The tapestries were another delight. In the Big Dining Room I admired a large painting of hunters and their dogs getting ready for the hunt as well as a stunning 18th century Murano chandelier.
Vienna, Albertina, Monet, Waterlillies, in the permanent collection
I had many exciting adventures traveling in 2024 and had many impactful experiences at art exhibitions in the Czech Republic, Germany and Austria. Every time I go on a trip or to an art show, I come away changed, with a sharper perspective on life and with more enthralling knowledge.
Albertinum, Dresden, Hans Grundig, The Thousand-Year Empire, in the permanent collection
Tracy A. Burns is a writer, proofreader and editor in Prague.
I visited Grabštejn Castle for the third time in 2024. Situated in north Bohemia near the Polish border, Grabštejn has come a long way since my first two visits some 20 years ago, when only a few rooms were open to the public because major reconstruction was taking place. Back then, I had seen Grabštejn Castle as a place with much potential, but I wondered if I would ever see the upper and lower castle with more than several spaces open to the public.
The first thing I noticed was that there was no scaffolding near the entrance to the castle perched on a rocky hill, where it dominated the scenic landscape. I read that there were two tour routes available and many rooms on display.
I recalled the history of Grabštejn, which was originally a 13th century Gothic castle, first mentioned in writing during 1286. It was transformed into a Renaissance chateau during the 16th century and still has many Renaissance features. During that Renaissance transformation, the Chapel of Saint Barbara was constructed. It became an architectural gem due to its superb vaulting as well as exquisite wall and ceiling painting. The chapel was consecrated to Saint Barbara, the patron saint of miners, because miners worked on the Grabštejn property. The chapel’s décor included a masterfully crafted statue of that saint.
Things fell apart during the Thirty Year’s War, when the Swedes conquered the castle. After Grabštejn was sold to Jan Václav Gallas in 1704, reconstruction work was carried out. Then the castle was used as an administrative seat instead of a residence. In 1781 a fire destroyed the castle, but Filip Josef Gallas restored Grabštejn’s impressive appearance. The chateau was again used for administrative work.
Elephant foot used as trash can
When Kristián Kryštof Clam-Gallas became owner, he rebuilt the administrative building as a Classicist chateau. His family used Grabštejn as a summer seat. In 1843, lightning hit the castle, causing a large fire. The damage was repaired, though.
Marie Clam-Gallas set up a small family museum in the castle after World War I, and during 1934, Grabštejn was open to the public while the family also used the premises. However, the castle was nationalized in 1945, after World War II. The Clam-Gallas family that had contributed so much to the development of the castle was forced to leave in a cattle wagon.
During 1953, the Czechoslovak army took over the castle, which was already in poor condition. The army stayed there until after the Velvet Revolution, exiting for good in 1990. Vandalized, the castle was in ruins. Major repairs took place until 2010, and reconstruction even continues today. The public has been allowed to visit since 1993. It was possible to preserve a section of the Renaissance sgraffito that decorates Grabštejn’s western façade. The original statue of Saint Barbara was restored. The installation of the interior lighting ended in 2023 while the cobblestones in the main courtyard were repaired during 2024.
Clerk’s office at the castle
The tours show rooms from the 16th to 19th century as well as the spaces dedicated to the Clam-Gallas museum. I saw the administrative offices of the 18th century as well as rooms made for nobility. The clerks’ offices displayed quills, large historical maps, portraits and shelves with document-filled cubby holes. It was intriguing to see rooms used for administrative purposes at a castle. I learned about the clerks’ work during that time period. Usually, I only saw rooms decorated for nobility.
The highlight of the tour was the Renaissance Chapel of Saint Barbara. I admired the superb vaulting and the wall and ceiling paintings, one of which showed a 13th apostle with no attributes. Whom the image represented was unclear. I noticed a poignant Last Judgment scene on the ceiling as well as an exquisite rendition of the Last Supper. The statue of Saint Barbara was breathtaking in its original form. The Renaissance altar painting showed Jesus squirming on Mary’s lap. I noted the splendid blue drapery of the Virgin Mary and the lush green landscape in the background. The wooden pulpit was truly unique.
In the castle rooms devoted to the nobility, I saw old photographs of the Clam-Gallas family. The photos reminded me that Grabštejn had once been a busy family home, full of vitality. I saw many paintings of nobles on horseback as well as landscapes. A gigantic wall painting was stunning. It showed lush chateau-like gardens with a monumental fountain as nobles strolled by. I noticed that the fountain in the painting dazzled with a gilded statue of Poseidon.
I also admired black-and-white graphic art. A tapestry depicted idyllic scenery. The masterfully carved, wine red canopied bed was striking. I loved the trash can made out of an elephant’s foot and the elegant, gilded grandfather clock.
It was intriguing to see part of a castle as an 18th century work space for clerks and another section as home for a noble family. The various styles of furnishings from the 16th century to the 19th century made Grabštejn’s interiors refreshingly eclectic. The chapel was an architectural and artistic gem in Renaissance style. The detailed painting, the vaulting, the impressive altarpiece and the well-preserved statue of Saint Barbara were only some of the astounding features of this breathtaking space. The decoration throughout was stunning.
I was so surprised that Grabštejn Castle had gone through a major transformation since my first two visits. The exterior was just as imposing, and the interiors were captivating. I also spent some time on the castle grounds, staring at breathtaking views into Poland and Germany.
Tracy A. Burns is a writer, proofreader and editor in Prague.
Whenever I come across a Cubist sculpture by Otto Gutfreund in a Czech gallery or museum, I take some time to appreciate the personal feelings that come to mind as I study the masterful figures. While I was perusing the impressive collection of Gutfreund’s works in Prague’s Kampa Museum, I was reminded that this was not the only style he employed in his career. As I studied the creations by Gutfreund there, I mused over the legendary sculpture’s career and the tragedy that befell him.
Lovers (Embracing Figures), 1913-14, bronze
Born in Dvůr Králové nad Labem in Bohemia during 1889, Gutfreund studied drawing and porcelain painting in Prague before turning to sculpture. In Paris his mentor was Antoine Bourdelle. Gutfreund was greatly influenced by the works of Auguste Rodin, whom he knew personally. While in Paris, he also became fascinated with Gothic art and nature. His travels then took him to England, Belgium and the Netherlands. He became immersed in the Cubist style after 1910 as he simplified natural forms into geometric shapes and showed objects and figures from multiple perspectives.
Cellist (Cello Player), 1912-13, bronze.
He made a name for himself as a Cubist guru with his first sculpture in this style, “Anxiety,” of 1911-12. Gutfreund joined the Group of Creative Artists around this time. This emotional and expressive work is my favorite as it stresses the sheer angst and fear that can be debilitating and personally destructive. It reminds me of the anxiety shown in works by Egon Schiele and the German Expressionists of the 1920s. I also see similarities to the emotion-immersed sculptures of František Bílek, a Czech Art Nouveau and Symbolist artist.
Cubist bust, 1913-14, bronze
Some of Gutfreund’s most renowned early Cubist works include his renditions of Don Quixote and Hamlet. Then, becoming more and more inspired by Picasso, he moved to Paris, where he met that artist as well as Apollinaire, to name a few.
World War I brought many changes to Gutfreund’s life. He became a soldier for the Foreign Legion in France and took part in the Battle of the Somme. He wound up in prison during 1916 and wasn’t released until three years later.
Viki, 1912-13, bronze
Two months after being freed, he moved back to Prague and was lauded as a sculptor of the social civilism style, which emphasized the everyday and was very realistic, nothing like the expressive Cubist movement in which he had participated before the war.
In the early 1920s, he received some big commissions. At this time, he created the monument to 19th century writer Božena Němcová in Ratibořice. The sculptural grouping showed off characters in Němcová’s stellar novel, The Grandmother, a 19th century Czech classic.
Industry, Study (sculpture on the right), 1923.
From 1922 to 1923, Gutfreund decorated the Legiobanka Building in Prague with a relief called “The Legions’ Return,” cooperating with renowned Czech architect Josef Gočár. In 1924 he designed a life-size statue of the first president of Czechoslovakia, Tomáš Garrigue Masaryk in Hradec Králové. I greatly admired likenesses of the first Czechoslovak president. Gutfreund held art shows, adding to his résumé of artistic mastery. During 1926 he became a professor of sculpture at Prague’s College of Decorative Arts, and Americans had the chance to admire his works in a New York City exhibition.
Fighters (A Fight, Wrestlers), 1924, bronze.
Unfortunately, his life was short-lived. On June 2, 1927, he drowned in the Vltava River in Prague. He accomplished so much in such a short time. If he had lived, there is no telling how much he could have influenced the Czechoslovak and world art scene. Gutfreund is buried in Prague.
At the Museum Kampa visitors can see a collection of both his Cubist and realistic sculptures as Otto Gutfreund lives on through his incredible art. It is worth traveling to Ratibořice to see the stunning chateau and park dedicated to Němcová and 19th century country life as well as the impressive statuary grouping by Gutfreund. Admirers of sculpture and architecture are sure to be amazed by Prague’s Legiobanka Building in the center of the city.
Tracy A. Burns is a writer, proofreader and editor in Prague.
Statuary grouping from Němcová’s book The Grandmother, by Otto Gutfreund, in Ratibořice
The first time I visited Jezeří Chateau was around the year 2000, about four years after it had opened to the public. While the chateau dominating the mountainous landscape appeared impressive from afar, up close it had looked derelict, as if it was about to collapse. The tour had covered only several rooms because much of the structure was under reconstruction. I left Jezeří feeling sad that a chateau with such promise had been derelict for so long. I wondered if the state would ever be able to make the chateau presentable again as so much rebuilding was necessary.
Now, 24 years later, I went back to the chateau situated in the Ore Mountains near the German border. About 10 rooms were open to the public, and they were impressive. I especially loved the paintings of Carl Robert Croll and the room where former Minister of Foreign Affairs and son of the first Czechoslovak President, Jan Masaryk, had stayed overnight. Spaces that had once succumbed to a sad plight now impressed, many harkening back to the golden days of the chateau.
The main facade of the chateau
But it is necessary to start at the beginning and get to know Jezeří’s history and suffering throughout years of dilapidation before touching upon the current appearance. To appreciate Jezeří fully, one has to be aware of the chateau’s journey, a long and winding one that overcame many obstacles.
Atlantis statue on main portal of the chateau
Jezeří Chateau dominates the landscape as a Baroque structure in the Ore (Krušné) Mountains of north Bohemia. It had been transformed from a Gothic castle called De Lacu (from the lake) to a Renaissance chateau by the Hochhauser family and finally to its Baroque appearance today. It was first mentioned in writing as a Gothic castle in the 1360s. The Thirty Years’ War brought much damage and destruction.
Statue of a dog above the main courtyard of the chateau
Then, in 1623, Vilém the Younger Popel Lobkowicz bought it, and the Lobkowicz name would punctuate the chateau’s history for centuries. Under Ferdinand Vilém Lobkowicz, from 1647 to 1708, extensive reconstruction took place. The property included 500 hectares. A hall replete with grandeur showed off oval vaulting, stucco decoration and large columns while a new richly decorated dining room sported a beautiful ceiling. Rooms were adorned with frescoes. The garden showed off fountains and cascades. A zoo was on the premises. However, all good things came to an end when a fire that could not be extinguished ravaged the building during 1713.
During 1722 the chateau passed into the hands of the Roudnice branch of the family. Jezeří would come to life again when reconstruction occurred during the 18th and 19th centuries. Jezeří flourished, filled with frescoes and paintings by masterful artists. The English style garden included an artificial grotto and lavish statues. The H-shaped chateau became a center for musical and theatrical events during the Baroque and Classicist eras as famous guests visited its renowned theatre.
View of oratory of chateau chapel
Owner Maxmilián had opera singers visit from ensembles in Vienna and Dresden. Beethoven was friends with Prince František Maxmilián. The first private performance of Beethoven’s third “Eroica” Symphony, which the composer had dedicated to František Maxmilián, took place here. It also was the site of the first private performance (1797) of Haydn’s Creation. My favorite symphony by Beethoven, his sixth (the Pastoral), was also dedicated to Prince Lobkowicz.
Sculpted heads with facial expressions adorn the Theatre Hall.
Another sculptural decoration in the Theatre Hall
At the time, vast Jezeří was buzzing with excitement in its 114 rooms and numerous smaller spaces. The English gardens and park were Baroque in style and showed off statues of mythological figures, greenhouses, pavilions, an artificial waterfall, terraces with magnificent views and an arboretum.
Painting of chateau interior by Carl Robert Croll
In the early 19th century, the prominent painter Carl Robert Croll created canvases for the Lobkowiczes, and his renditions of the chateau’s exterior and interior are magnificent. His “Winter Garden” from 1841 portrayed a light and airy room with many plants and windows, white walls and blue-upholstered furniture. The painting “The Big Salon,” created that same year, showed children dancing and men immersed in a game of billiards. Croll’s work “Smaller Salon at Jezeří” focuses on women and girls chatting and ordering tea or coffee. Croll painted the exterior of the chateau at night, presenting it as mystical and magical.
A painting of the chateau landscape by Carl Robert Croll
During the existence of The First Republic of Czechoslovakia, Jezeří was under the guidance of JUDr. Maxmilián Ervín Lobkowicz (1888 – 1968). Maxmilián served as a Czechoslovak diplomat and during World War II held the post of Czechoslovak Ambassador to Great Britain as he played a major role in the anti-fascist movement with the government-in-exile in London.
After he went into exile in 1938, Nazi soldiers took control of the chateau, and during 1943, a prison camp for Poles, Russians, French and out-of-favor German soldiers was situated on the property. Among the prominent figures incarcerated there was Pierre de Gaulle, brother of former French President Charles de Gaulle.
Jan Masaryk, Minister of Foreign Affairs and democrat
Maxmilián Lobkowicz returned after the war, and his good friend Jan Masaryk, then Czechoslovak Minister of Foreign Affairs, visited Maxmilián there on several occasions. However, Jan Masaryk would be shoved out a bathroom window by Communist officials at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs in Prague and fall to his death. The totalitarian regime categorized it as a suicide.
Times would change for the worst as Maxmilián and his family had to go into exile during 1948, carrying with them only a few belongings. The Communist coup had taken place, forcing the lifelong democrat Maxmilián to flee once again. At this time, the chateau was deteriorating.
Jan Masaryk, son of the first president of democratic Czechoslovakia
Jezeří certainly did not get a pretty makeover during the following decades. On the contrary, in 1950 the Czechoslovak army took over Jezeří, and the interior was destroyed. Then, five years later, the Ministry of the Interior used the building. Several other institutions were situated there in subsequent years, and times were definitely not rosy. The place was often vandalized until 1960. Jezeří Chateau became a cultural monument in 1963, though its condition did not improve. At the end of the 1960s and in the 1970s, extensive mining took place on the grounds. During the 1970s and 1980s, there was talk of tearing Jezeří down because the structure was not deemed safe due to the mining activities.
The chateau had been surrounded by intensive coal mining for centuries. Mines with dams and ditches punctuated the Ore Mountains. The mining history harkens back to the 16th century, and though it was halted for a while after the Thirty Years’ War of the 17th century, mining activities returned with a vengeance during the 19th century due to the discovery of cobalt blue and uranium in the mountains. During the first and second world war, much mining took place in the Ore Mountains. Then, after the Soviets took control of Czechoslovakia, the Ore Mountains were used as a source of uranium ore, but it was all kept hush-hush. The beautiful forests were destroyed under Communist rule. Jezeří didn’t even appear on maps anymore.
After the Velvet Revolution of 1989 that triggered the end of Communist rule, the Lobkowiczes got the chateau back in restitution. In 1991, the state declared the chateau a protected cultural monument. However, the chateau was in such bad condition that the Lobkowiczes were not able to do the necessary repairs because it would be so costly. In 1996 Martin Lobkowicz gave the chateau to the state. Repairs began, but it would be a long journey before the chateau appeared in a decent state.
The artwork in the chateau is superb.
During 1996, one room in the chateau was open to the public. When I visited in 2000, more rooms were accessible, but there was a lot of reconstruction taking place. Back then, I felt a sense of profound sadness because the necessary reconstruction would take years to accomplish. Yet hope and determination won out. The chateau continued to be painstakingly restored, and finally part of the first floor and a section of the second floor were on display for visitors. It was made a national cultural monument in 2022.
The chateau Theatre Hall
The stunning balustrade of the Theatre Hall
Now visitors can admire the renovated, lavish Theatre Hall with its original fireplace and stucco decoration. Heads of figures with various theatrical expressions decorate the walls. The cupola is impressive as is the balustrade above. Concerts are held here, reviving Jezeří’s musical tradition.
The Winter Garden today
The Winter Garden was renovated to look like it did in Carl Robert Croll’s paintings, and it is a tranquil, comfy place full of greenery. I would love to have tea in that soothing space.
Paintings throughout the chateau are intriguing with Carl Robert Croll’s works showing a stunning chateau interior and exterior at the beginning of the 19th century. Many other artworks are impressive, too. Three pianos are on display. The vaulting and stucco ornamentation in rooms is intriguing to say the least.
Jan Masaryk’s room at the chateau
Jan Masaryk’s room at the chateau
My favorite room is the one dedicated to Jan Masaryk. Seeing his room at the chateau made me imagine his visits with the Lobkowiczes during the chateau’s better days. The portraits of Jan Masaryk across from the room brought to mind Masaryk’s fierce fight for democracy and his tragic fate. I remember, during a tour of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, being shown the bathroom window from which he was shoved to the hard ground outside.
Bust of Tomáš Garrigue Masaryk, first president and Czechoslovakia and father of Jan Masaryk
Twentieth century coffee and tea set in Jan Masaryk’s room at the chateau
I see Jezeří Chateau as a symbol of hope, of the determination that can painstakingly change a monument considered for demolition into an edifice with an intriguing interior that impresses visitors. There is still much reconstruction going on, but Jezeří continues to develop – slowly but surely. I was glad I had been able to witness so many positive developments.
Handpainted toilet in the chateau
Tracy Burns is a writer, proofreader and editor in Prague.
Czech legendary writer Bohumil Hrabal. Photo by Karel Kestner. Bought by me in Lesní atélier Kuba, Kersko some years ago.
For me Kersko is a sort of catharsis, easing my anxiety about daily life’s concerns and bringing me a sense of tranquilly. I feel at home here, even though I have no personal connection to this area not far from Prague. I can breathe in the clean air and be at peace with the world and myself. I would love to own a house in Kersko, a forested village dotted with traditional cottages and huge homes built by millionaires.
The Kersko restaurant Hájenka
Every now and then I made the trip to the village restaurant Hájenka, a traditional pub-like establishment with delicious Czech food. On the television in the pub, customers can watch scenes from late legendary Czech author Bohumil Hrabal’s film Snowdrop Festival. Some of the exteriors were shot at Hájenka while the interiors of the pub seen on the film were actually shot at a studio. Directed by the world-renowned Jiří Menzel and based on Hrabal’s 1978 novel, the stellar film remains a Czech classic with many unforgettable scenes.
One of many ceramic cat figures at Lesní atélier Kuba, Kersko.
I also always stop at the souvenir and craft shop Lesní atélier Kuba, where beautiful handmade ceramic cats are sold along with other superb figures. The shop has been open since 1992. While a cat theme plays a major role in the inventory, there is much more to see. I always buy some of their delicious cookies. They sell much more than beautiful ceramics: t-shirts, postcards, books, candles and many other things. During my visit in May of 2024, the downstairs area was home to a fascinating temporary exhibition of witty drawings focusing on Hrabal’s life.
Drawing by Radek Steska showing Hrabal and his cats at The Golden Tiger pub in Prague, exhibited in Kersko at Lesní atélier Kuba.
Indeed, Kersko is intricately tied to the life and career of Hrabal, my favorite Czech writer and the name of my first cat. I penned my master’s thesis on his books, focusing on their historical context. From 1965 until his death in 1997, Hrabal often resided in a quaint, two-floor cottage in the village, fed the semi-feral cats, took walks, rode his bike and frequented the pubs, including Hájenka.
Bohumil Hrabal signing autographs in Spain during the mid-1990s. Photo property of Tracy Burns.
Born in the Austro-Hungarian Empire during 1914, Hrabal was renowned for his grotesque, absurd and irreverent humor and witty anecdotes. While he is mostly known as an author of fiction, he excelled at poetry early in his career. What I like best about his writing is his creation of the pábitel, a word connoting a dreamer living on the outskirts of society. Although the pábitel has experienced tragedy, he learns how to be content with life and how to find beauty in even the most horrid conditions. The pábitel often tells meandering, absurd anecdotes that make the reader both laugh and cry.
Bohumil Hrabal and Czech writer Arnošt Lustig in Golden Tiger pub, Prague during the 1990s. Photo property of Tracy Burns.
Hrabal held many jobs throughout his writing career. He worked as a train dispatcher in Kostomlaty, where he was almost killed by Nazi soldiers. Hrabal later was employed as an insurance broker and traveling salesman. After the Communist coup of 1948, he took a position at the Poldi steelworks in Kladno, but in 1952 a crane fell on him. Then Hrabal became a paper baler. He would later make a living as a stagehand in a theatre.
Bohumil Hrabal in photo taken by Karel Kestner, bought by me at Lesni atélier Kuba some years ago.
The year 1956 was very significant for Hrabal as he married Eliška Plevová, a German-Czech kitchen worker in Prague’s luxurious Hotel Paris. In 1965 they bought a cottage in Kersko. During the more liberal 1960s, Hrabal was able to spend more time writing, and he was even able to travel abroad. His 1968 film Closely Watched Trains, directed by Menzel, won an Oscar, based on the novel Hrabal had scribed three years previously.
Bohumil Hrabal in photo by Karel Kestner. Property of Tracy Burns and bought at Lesní atélier Kuba some years ago.
After the Warsaw Pact tanks crushed the Prague Spring of liberal reforms in 1968, Hrabal was banned as an author, and his works only appeared in illegal publications. During 1970 his book Buds (Poupata) was burned by the Communists. These were tumultuous years. Hrabal relented to intense pressure and signed the anti-Charter denouncing the Charter 77 document that called for human rights in Czechoslovakia, and he became an “official” author again. Yet his career was still not without its problems.
Bohumil Hrabal writing in photo by Karel Kestner. Photo property of Tracy Burns and bought at Lesní atélier Kuba some years ago.
During the 1980s, he wrote a famous trilogy that was part autobiography and part fiction, depicting times from the late fifties and the turbulent 1970s, for instance. In 1987 his wife died of cancer. He continued writing and traveled to the USA and Moscow at the end of the 1980s. In 1988 his legendary, long-time apartment on Na Hrázi Street in Prague’s eighth district was demolished to make way for the Metro station Palmovka.
Bohumil Hrabal with then Czech Republic President Václav Havel and then US President Bill Clinton at The Golden Tiger pub, January, 1994. Photo property of Tracy Burns
In the 1990s, Hrabal could be seen drinking beer at the Golden Tiger (U zlatého tygra) pub in Old Town and traveling to Kersko to feed his many semi-feral cats. He won the Jaroslav Seifert prize during 1993 and accepted foreign literary awards as well as honorary degrees. He gave lectures and readings abroad. In January of 1994, the acclaimed author met then US President Bill Clinton and Ambassador to the United Nations Madeleine Albright at the Golden Tiger pub.
Drawing of Bohumil Hrabal by Radek Steska, exhibited at Lesní atélier Kuba in 2024
I first met Hrabal at the Golden Tiger pub in 1994, a few months after the author’s meeting with President Clinton and Ambassador Albright. He always ordered me fried chicken or pork steak because that is what President Clinton had eaten there. (I happened to like that food, too.)
Sometimes, he was in a cheerful mood and other times, he was angry and depressed. He could no longer take walks, something he had loved doing. Hrabal had to take a taxi to the pub. He often complained that his entire body hurt.
Cat sculptures in Kersko
At the end of 1996, Hrabal was hospitalized with neuralgia. He was about to be released when he jumped or fell from the fifth floor window on February 3, 1997. He is buried in the cemetery in Hradištko, near Kersko. The irregular gravestone is especially noteworthy for the sculpted arm and hand seemingly emerging out of the stone monument. The top square section of the gravestone has a circle in the middle. Many wooden and ceramic cat figures as well as beer bottles decorate the grave site. I like the gravestone. It is innovative and unique just as Hrabal had been.
Bohumil Hrabal’s grave in Hradištko
Kersko has an intriguing history. Hradištko was first mentioned in writing during the 11th century and at that time included a fortress called Keřsko. In 1376 Eliška from Lichtenburk acquired the territory. She was the grandmother of George of Poděbrady, who would become a Czech king. The fortress area expanded into a village between 1354 and 1357, but it was destroyed during the Hussite wars of the 15th century. A pond was later created on the site of the former fortress. At the beginning of the 20th century, archeological digs in the village unearthed Gothic weapons and other historical objects. Some trees in Kersko are over 200 years old. The oldest oak in Kersko is 193 meters high. The area includes three small ponds and a mineral spring as well as walking trails.
Some feral cats in front of Hájenka restaurant some years ago
Fast-forward to 1934, when private citizens were first allowed to buy property in Kersko. A café dominated by an octagonal tower was built the following year. Later, it would become the restaurant Hájenka. The village aspired to become a forest spa town. Plans were made to build a hotel, two swimming pools and a sports complex. Then World War II took place, and plans were stalled. The Communist coup of 1948 put a halt to the entire project. In the 1950s, small cottages cropped up in the picturesque lanes.
Odkaz, book about the Mašín brothers by Barbara Masin, published by Mladá fronta, 2005.
While Kersko is most famous for being the location of Hrabal’s cottage, it also made a name for itself in the history books long before Hrabal bought a home there, during September of 1951. The Mašín Brothers, an anti-Communist resistance group of young men who fought against the Communists from 1951 to 1953, made some stops in the Kersko forest. Members included Ctirad Mašín, his brother Josef, Milan Paumer, Zbyněk Janata and Václav Švéda. Their objective was to fight their way to freedom, and the two Mašín brothers and Milan Paumer were successful at doing just that in 1953 when they dramatically escaped to American territory in West Berlin. The armed group carried out violent attacks to get money for their cause. To be sure, the Mašín Brothers’ group is very controversial. Some consider them to be heroes who fought against the Communists while others claim they were murderers because they killed innocent people.
Čtyří české osudy, book about Mašín Brothers, by Zdena Mašínová and Rudolf Martin. Published by Ergo, 2018.
Back to their ties with Kersko: In the Kersko forest, Ctirad Mašín and Milan Paumer tied up a taxi driver and stole the cab in order to rob a police station in Chlumec nad Cidlenou. Two weeks later, three Mašín members came to Kersko in an ambulance they had stolen. They tied up the ambulance works in the forest. Then they robbed a police station in Čélakovice, using the stolen ambulance as transportation.
Guide book Odbojová skupina bratří Mašínů, about the Mašín brothers, by Jiří Padevět, published by Academia, 2018.
I had read and written about the Mašín Brothers’ group and was very interested in the anti-Communist resistance movement of the 1950s, so I found these facts to be very intriguing. I also was intrigued with the public’s perception of this armed group because some called them heroes, others cruel killers.
Bohumil Hrabal’s cottage in Kersko, photo from 2024.
Back to Hrabal. In May of 2024, I visited his cottage, which had recently opened to the public. Hrabal’s neighbor had inherited the cottage, and after a while the neighbor’s son sold it to the Central Bohemian Region, which did some reconstruction and made it look like it had during the 1980s. Some of the furnishings were original, some not.
Bohumil Hrabal’s cottage from the back. Photo taken in 2024.
The small, white, two-story structure had an exterior staircase leading to the enclosed balcony surrounded by windows with views of the big garden. Hrabal spent 18 days one July writing the novel I Served The King of England, seated in that garden. He loved to write on his typewriter in the garden.
Bohumil Hrabal’s cottage from one side. Photo taken in 2024.
We entered the tiny ground floor of the house, which was dominated by bunk beds and a table with three chairs. It served as a bedroom and dining room. Hrabal and his wife slept there when it was cold because the heater was in the space. He sometimes wrote in this room. In 1995 Hrabal wrote his last published piece here. I noticed that the date on the Svobodné slovy newspaper on the table was November 29, 1989, not even two weeks after the Velvet Revolution that brought the end of Communist rule. The hats and boxing gloves on a stand made of antlers were authentic. A small TV from the 1980s stood in a corner above the table. A collage by Karel Marysko was one intriguing artwork in the small space. The kitchen was tiny with a wooden stove and hot plate, for instance.
In the beautiful garden of Bohumil Hrabal’s cottage. Photo taken in 2024.
Upstairs there were only two spaces, much larger. Two single beds, decorated old chests and a closet were placed on a red carpet. I noticed the thick brushstrokes in the portrait of Hrabal by Josef Jíra, who was not only a painter but also a graphic artist and illustrator. He also frequented the Golden Tiger pub. The anxiety of people in the modern world often played a role in Jíra’s works. In the painting Hrabal looked sad and serious. Another painting, a collage, showed him in profile with logos of various beers, such as Pilsner Urquell, Primus and Prior. Another collage featured scenes and objects from the novel Cutting It Short, showing a brewery, an old record player and a couple dancing, among other pictures. I also saw portraits of Hrabal’s beautiful wife and parents.
Drawing of Bohumil Hrabal’s cottage with the semi-feral cats he feed, picture exhibited at Lesní atélier Kuba, 2024.
There were other paintings that caught my undivided attention. One showed a bright blue sea with two people looming above the water in a hot air balloon while a man and woman stood on the coast. The bright blue hue gave me a feeling of tranquillity. The drawing “A Loud Monologue” by Jiří Anderle included faces of Hrabal from early childhood to old age. My favorite picture showed Hrabal, sporting a scarf and hat, with cats seated on chairs in a forest. I knew that Hrabal considered his cats to be his children, which is one reason I named my first cat after him.
The street art memorializing Bohumil Hrabal’s home on the former site of Na Hrázi Street, Libeň, Prague, after his home there had been demolished to make way for the Palmovka Metro station.
The enclosed balcony was fabulous because it was so light and airy with views of the garden. I saw two typewriters and a large table with beer glasses and loose pages with handwritten corrections on it. Hrabal wrote here if the weather was bad. He penned Cutting It Short and The Snowdrop Festival here as well as many other works. I didn’t want to leave the balcony because it had such a calming effect on me.
Bohumil Hrabal’s cottage. Photo taken in 2024.
While Hrabal’s cottage was small, it had character. I could see him on the balcony writing while drinking glasses of beer or seated at the table downstairs playing cards or watching the small TV. I could feel his presence during the tour and realized how his writing was tied intricately to Kersko, a tranquil place where I feel at home and at peace.
Tracy A. Burns is a writer, proofreader and editor in Prague.
Caricature of Laocoon, Niccolo Boldrini, 1540-45, woodcut.
In the exhibition “From Michelangelo to Callot: The Art of Mannerist Printmaking,” held at Prague’s Wallenstein Riding Stables, I studied more than 200 works of 16th and 17th century graphic art, drawings, paintings, jewelry, etchings, lithographs, ceramics and other artistic crafts that hailed from the Netherlands, Germany, France and the Czech lands. The Louvre lent Prague’s National Gallery many works. Some pieces in the collections were being displayed to the public for the first time. A superb small drawing by Michelangelo drew crowds, and art by Hendrick Goltzius, Paul Bril, Aegidius Sadeler and Niccolo Boldrini stood out to me.
The Great Hercules, Hendrick Goltzius, 1589, engraving.
While Mannerism became a major trend during the 16th century in Italy, Northern Mannerism lasted into the 17th century. Because European artists north of the Alps did not have as many opportunities to travel to Italy in order to familiarize themselves with Mannerism, they often studied the style through prints and books. The decoration at the Chateau of Fontainebleau impressed many artists utilizing this style, and France was the center of the Mannerist movement. The Northern Mannerists also looked to da Vinci, Raphael, Vasari and Michelangelo for inspiration.
The Martyrdom of Saint Lawrence, Cornells Cort, 1571.
The Northern Mannerist style was very visible in Holy Roman Emperor Rudolf II’s collection in Prague, then the capital city. Influenced by prints, Mannerism appeared in Prague during 1576. An avid art collector, Emperor Rudolf II had hired the Flemish painter Bartholomeus Spranger and German artist Hans von Aachen to work for him, and they produced some works in Northern Mannerist style. Both Spranger and von Aachen were known for their Mannerist mythological scenes while von Aachen also concentrated on portraits of the emperor. Rudolf II’s father, Emperor Maximillian II, had chosen Giuseppe Arcimboldo as one of his painters, and Arcimboldo’s fantasy-filled still lifes and portraits feature Mannerist traits. This style also suited Rudolf II when he took over for his father.
The Combat of the Monkey and the Rat, Christoph Jamnitzer.
Mannerist art often included mythological scenes, the grotesque and fantasy. Harmony, symmetry and rationality were notably absent. While Mannerists showed a great interest in anatomy, the figures were often elongated, and many forms had a sculptural quality. Clothing was elaborate. Attention to detail prevailed. Complex and unstable poses as well as dramatic lighting also characterized the Mannerist style. Artists of this era liked to employ symbols and utilize hidden meanings in their works. Black backgrounds were common. A distorted perspective was employed. Mannerism did not often feature religious themes. After Mannerism came the Baroque style, which focused heavily on religious art.
The Last Judgment, Michelangelo, 1536-1541.
The Last Judgment, Michelangelo.
The Last Judgment, Michelangelo.
The Last Judgment, Michelangelo.
A copy of a section of “The Last Judgment” as seen in the Sistine Chapel was on display at this exhibition, as this masterpiece greatly influenced Mannerist art. This fresco at The Vatican portrayed more than 300 figures as the dead made their way to idyllic Heaven or horrific Hell. Mythological figures and devils appeared along with a beardless Jesus Christ, the Virgin Mary and saints. I noticed the looks of horror on descending figures. Details in superb portrayals of human anatomy greatly impressed me.
Head of a 12-Year Old Christ, Albrecht Durer, 16th century.
For me, German Albrecht Durer’s 16th century “Head of the 12-year old Christ” was one of the highlights in the exhibition. Durer was a master of High Renaissance printmaking, especially of woodcuts and engravings. He inspired Raphael and Titian. I realized how Durer’s portrayal of human anatomy had impressed Mannerists. While most works displayed did not focus on religion, the Mannerist engraving “The Martyrdom of Saint Lawrence” from 1571 also caught my attention. Cornells Cort created it in the style of Titian.
Vladislav Hall, Aegidius Sadeler, 1607.
Some prints showed off specific architectural structures, such as Aegidius Sadeler’s Vladislav Hall from 1607. A fan of Czech architectural history, I was especially engrossed in this rendition of the late 15th century and early 16th century section of Prague Castle built by Benedikt Reid. I loved its complex vaulting system. I noticed Late Gothic and Renaissance elements of the building. This was one of my favorite buildings in Prague due to its exquisite vaulting and its past use for historical events, such as coronations and knights’ tournaments.
Wooden Bridge from Series Eight Bohemian Landscapes, Aegidius Sadeler, 1605, engraving.
Mountain Landscape, Paul Bril.
Another work by Sadeler, created in the style of Pieter Stevens, was the landscape “Wooden Bridge from Series Eight Bohemian Landscapes.” The 1605 engraving of the idyllic, romantic bridge reminded me of picturesque Vermont, where I had lived for a while. I was also enamored with “Mountain Landscape” by Flemish painter and printmaker Paul Bril. Inspired by my favorite artist Pieter Bruegel the Elder, Bril authored works in the Vatican and Italy. I appreciated the power and beauty of nature as I peered at these two tranquil landscapes.
Beached Sperm Whale near Berkhey, Hendrick Goltzius, 1598.
A prominent name in the exhibition, Henrick Goltzius was a stellar printmaker whose works were influenced by drawings he acquired from Prague. My favorite of his contributions was “Beached Sperm Whale near Berkhey” from 1598. People gathered around the gigantic, deceased animal. This artwork was inspired by a real event as a 58-foot long whale had washed up on that shore.
The Four Disgracers, Hendrick Goltzius, 1588, engraving.
The Four Disgracers, Henrick Goltzius, 1588, engraving.
Goltzius also took on mythological themes, such as his rendition of “The Four Disgracers (Tantalus, Icarus, Phaethon and Ixion).” This engraving appeared to have a three-dimensional quality. The illusion of three-dimensional features, mastered by engravers in the Netherlands during the late 16th century, was often featured in Northern Mannerist art. Goltzius was the author of “The Great Hercules,” an engraving from 1589. The detailed anatomy, though not correct, interested me. Other works with mythological themes that caught my attention were “Diana and Actaeon” by Joseph Heintz the Elder from 1597 to 1598 and Niccolo Boldrini’s “Caricature of Laocoon,” a woodcut from 1540 to 1545.
The Pairs of Grotesque Heads, Philippe Soye, 1550-65.
The grotesque played a significant role in Northern Mannerist creations. Philippe Soye rendered “The Pairs of Grotesque Heads” after a masterpiece by da Vinci. Soye’s portrayal hailed from 1550 to 1565. Christoph Jamnitzer also stressed grotesque features in his “The Combat of the Monkey and the Rat.” I was also impressed with the masked figures in “Venetian Carnival,” a 1595 engraving by Pieter de Jode the Elder. Seeing the grotesque made me think of gargoyles on cathedrals, such as Milan’s Duomo or Saint Vitus’ Cathedral in Prague.
Fantastic Sea Creatures, Nicolaes de Bruyn, 1594, engraving.
Prints with scenes immersed in the fantasy world made numerous appearances. At the end of the 16th century, Nicolaes de Bruyn became known for his portrayal of animals and fictional sea creatures. His “Fantastic Sea Creatures,” depicted here from a series, was an engraving that made up part of a book about fish. Engravers often worked with fantasy themes in this style.
Diana and Actaeon, Joseph Heintz the Elder, 1597-98.
A section of the exhibition was devoted to Northern Mannerist decoration of objects such as vases, plates, mirrors and jewelry. Adornment was often floral or geometric, and I noted similarities to illuminated manuscripts. Artists of this sort of ornamentation were inspired by the grotesque, mythological figures and Roman wall paintings, for instance. I saw examples of mythological themes and the grotesque in the decoration of a majolica plate from the second half of the 16th century. A 16th century black enamel mirror exuded elegance with Mannerist designs.
Venetian Carnival, Pieter de Jode the Elder, 1596, engraving.
The exhibition was comprehensive, divided into clear sections. I was drawn most to the landscapes as I was reminded of the work of Pieter Bruegel the Elder. I also thought of Paul Bril’s creations in Milan’s Ambrosiana Picture Gallery. It was intriguing that the scenes on many prints showed the main figures in the background and the lesser important ones in the foreground. I liked the decorative patterns that were influenced by illuminated manuscripts. I spent my fortieth birthday gazing at the Sistine Chapel and mulled over the experience of seeing those writhing, terrified souls guided by devils and the blessed blissfully ascending into Paradise. I also thought of the awe-inspiring experience of walking into Vladislav Hall because I loved Late Gothic vaulting. That print captured the daunting atmosphere perfectly. Seeing a masterpiece by Durer brought me back to an exhibition of his works at the Albertina in Vienna some years ago. I could hardly catch my breath because I had been so impressed. I had learned a lot about Mannerism from this exhibition and had discovered works that I would never forget.
Tracy A. Burns is a writer, proofreader and editor in Prague.
I have always loved to visit the exhibitions at the art gallery at the Kooperativa insurance company. Never have I exited that building without learning something new about art and about myself. This time the show was called Horizons, and it brought to mind memories of childhood innocence as well as a strong sense of freedom and personal identity achieved as an adult. The featured paintings dealt with the power and magic of nature and romantic towns as well as the devastation of war. Mythological themes also punctuated some paintings. Some of the scenes evoked in me sadness, and others brought joy.
Prague Bridges, František Líbal
The townscapes were my favorites. My love of Prague drew me to the romantic and idyllic landscape “Prague Bridges” (1943) by the landscape and portrait painter František Líbal, who created vistas of the Czech capital during World War II, when he lived in Prague. Líbal studied in Germany and made trips to France and Italy while portraying cityscapes and cathedrals. He proceeded to travel throughout the Czech lands, Moravia and Slovakia, focusing on mountainous terrain. The south Bohemia native often visited the region where he was born and created many works of ponds and forests from scenery located there. After the war, he stopped creating Prague cityscapes and focused on landscapes of south Bohemia.
View of Charles Bridge, Ferdinand Lepié
His view of Prague brought to mind the power and magic of the capital city. He made the city appear idyllic and romantic. In the horizon of the painting, I saw the bright future that I imagined I would have when I was 21 years old, fresh out of college. I mused about my first visit to Prague in 1991, when I was initially enamored by the beauty of the city. So many decades later, I am still enthralled with the city’s beauty, and the panoramic views fill me with joy. Another painting in the exhibition that brought to mind the magic and masterful architecture in Prague was View of Charles Bridge (1861) by Ferdinand Lepié. My attention was drawn to Prague Castle in the background. I once again saw Prague imbued with historical significance and timeless beauty.
View of Třebíč, Bohumír Jaroněk
I loved the paintings of other towns, too, such as Jaroslav Šetelík’s “Tábor” from 1926 and his “Kutná Hora” from 1920. Bohumír Jaroněk’s “View of Třebíč” (1910) showed a river flowing through the center of the city, making the painting especially picturesque. Kutná Hora, Tábor and Třebíč are towns with fascinating history and intriguing sights. All three paintings brought to mind my trips to these towns and the sights with which I had become very familiar.
Painter’s Still Life, Arnošt Paderlík
Arnošt Paderlík’s “Painter’s Still Life” from 1943 takes on the theme of the suffering of mankind during wartime. This painter, sculptor, graphic artist and professor spent much of World War II making expressive, anti-military compositions ripe with hidden meanings. This particular painting shows, among other objects, an ancient bust from a statue. It has fallen on the ground, onto its side. After World War II, he drastically changed his style, devoting his time to still lifes that were inspired by Cubists Pablo Picasso and Georges Braque.
Rye, Antonín Slavíček
Paderlík delved into architectural adornment as well. His ceramic ornamentation graces the Kotva Department Store in Prague, and a bronze figure he designed is located at the Thermal Hotel in Karlovy Vary. I thought back to the sculptures and paintings I had seen throughout Europe, depicting the horrors of war. Even though he was focusing on World War II, Paderlík’s painting speaks to wartime oppression in general.
Landscape from Kameníčky, Antonín Slavíček
I was ecstatic that Antonín Slavíček’s landscapes, influenced by Impressionism, were represented in the exhibition. His “Landscape from Kameničky” from 1906 captured my undivided attention as did his “Rye” from 1908. He masterfully evoked the textures of the grass and dirt road in “Landscape from Kameničky.” I felt as though I could reach into the painting and touch the grass and dirt. I have always been drawn to the emotional quality of his works and to the strong use of color that permeates his renditions, including “Rye.” Slavíček was a student of Julius Mařák, perhaps the most prominent Czech landscape painter of the 19th century, who also worked as a professor promoting realism to many talented artists.
Meadow, Antonín Chittussi
The work of one of the most important Czech painters of the 19th century, Antonín Chittussi, also was highlighted in the exhibition. His nature-themed canvases evoked strong emotions in me. His painting “Meadow” from 1886 made me take a deep breath as all tension and stress in my life momentarily disappeared. I also was gripped by his realist portrayal of sheep and a shepherd in “On the Pasture” (1882).
Chapel of Saint Brandan, Jan Zrzavý
Jan Zrzavý, one of my all-time favorites, was highly influenced by Italian primitive art and Symbolism. He also utilized light and color masterfully. His works have fantasy-like and mystical elements that correspond to magic realism. He didn’t only master painting but also graphic art, illustrations, teaching and scene design – all fields in which he worked for the National Theatre during the 20th century. Some of his paintings, such as his rendition of the “Chapel of Saint Brandan” (1946), evoke sadness and solitude, delving into the darkest depths of the human soul. I noticed the dominant greys in the painting, such as that of the gloomy winding lane. On the dark water floated a solitary sailboat.
Summer Landscape, Václav Rabas
One of the first Czechs to receive recognition as a national artist, Václav Rabas studied under the guidance of Max Švabinský and fought on the front in World War I, where he was injured and subsequently sent home. Influenced by 19th century landscape painting and the art of Paul Cézanne, Rabas created canvases rich with color, and some of his works showed features of magic realism. I loved the vibrant colors in his Summer Landscape (1930). His landscapes concentrated mostly on his native Rakovník. Rabas was not only a landscape painter by any means. Indeed, he excelled at rendering the human figure with his 1923 cycle of “Czech Heads” that represented famous personalities. Rabas also created 24 paintings demonstrating how to make bread.
Summer, Bohuslav Dvořák
I felt like running through the meadow in Bohuslav Dvořák’s “Summer” (1902). I felt liberated, free to go my own way and follow my dreams while I peered at the painting. Dvořák studied under Mařák and began his career as a realist who was influenced by Chittussi. Later, though, he began to show more characteristics of Slavíček’s style. Color helped define his works, and some of his paintings had strong Impressionistic qualities.
On the sea coast, Norbert Grund
I have loved the small landscapes by 18th century Norbert Grund for decades and was enthusiastic when one of his paintings was included in this exhibition. His “On the Sea Coast” (1750) shows a man with his back to the viewer as he gazes at the sea and beach, where other people were present. The versatile Rococo artist was known for genre paintings, landscapes and biblical works. Whenever I saw one of Grund’s creations, especially a landscape, I felt drawn into the world of the painting because the works entranced me so much.
Motif from Gmundenu, Josef Mánes
Perhaps the most influential painter of the 19th century, Josef Mánes created “Motif from Gmundenu” in 1843. His landscape paintings and portraits fall into the styles of Romanticism and Realism. Hailing from a family of painters, Josef Mánes made around 500 works. Best known for painting the 1865 allegorical calendar on Prague’s Astronomical Clock, Josef Mánes also created portraits of Prague inhabitants and landscapes of the Moravian countryside.
Sunrise – Horizon of Hope, Ivan Exner
Landscape, Vojtěch Malaník
While some paintings hailed from the 18th and 19th centuries, others were contemporary and made just as strong an impression. Vojtěch Malaník’s “Landscape” from 2015 featured a mesh of lines of bright color, an abstract creation showing the vitality of nature in a very dynamic way. Ivan Exner’s “Sunrise – Horizon of Hope” (2024) was mesmerizing with its bright yellow sun rising in the pink and orange sky. An empty boat floated on the river as sunrays danced on the water.
On the Pasture, Antonín Chittussi
These are just a few of the masterpieces on display in this exhibition. Every painting spoke to me, narrating vibrant stories through nature, mythology and war. Lyricism and romanticism as well as realism punctuated this art show. While some stories were gloomy and foreboding, others were joyful and bright. I saw nature as a powerful force that mankind could not control. I sensed times marked by hope as well as days denoted by darkness. This was a poetic and powerful exhibition focusing on the joys and tribulations of life.
Kutná Hora, Jaroslav Šetelík
Tracy A. Burns is a writer, proofreader and editor in Prague.
One of Milan’s four house museums, the Poldi Pezzoli was a highlight of my two trips to the city I love so much. The variety of art exhibited made this a top attraction for me. The collections include paintings, sculpture, weapons, tapestries, furniture, glass, ceramics, watches, clocks, goldsmiths’ work and jewelry, for instance. Artists whose works are represented include Andrea Mantegna, Giovanni Bellini, Sandro Botticelli, Michelangelo Buonarroti, Canaletto, Francesco Hayez and Lucas Cranach the Elder.
I favored the medieval paintings, but each space had something extraordinary to offer. The Golden Room with its 15th century collection enamored me as did the elaborate, superb furnishings of the Dante Room. The Black Room had six masterfully crafted mahogany and walnut doors. The Lombard Room dazzled with north Italian Renaissance paintings.
The collections were amassed during the 19th century by Gian Giacomo Poldi Pezzoli, who had inherited much money. The Austrians exiled Gian Giacomo from Milan for one year after he supported the revolutionaries during a Risorgimento battle in Milan. He spent that year traveling, but then returned to Milan. Sadly, Gian Giacomo’s life was cut short in 1879, when, at the age of 57, he passed away in the palace’s Dante Study. The museum was opened to the public in 1881. During World War Two the palace was severely damaged. For example, the Neo-Gothic armory was destroyed. Many artifacts were lost. The museum underwent much restoration, not opening its doors again until 1951. The new armory opened much later, in 2000.
Numerous artworks enthralled me, but I would like to concentrate on several of the many that were remarkable. Some paintings that caught my undivided attention included Sandra Botticelli’s The Virgin and Child (the Madonna of the Book), dating from 1482-83. Showing the Virgin and Child reading, the painting reminded me of how important reading and literature have been in my life. The scene had a mystical appearance due to the superb lighting. I could understand how the act of reading has a sort of mystical power. The painting also exuded elegance.
Another religious rendition that left me in awe was The Madonna of Humility with Musician Angels by Zanobi Strozzi, hailing from 1448 to 1450. In this painting the Christ Child is seated on the Virgin’s lap as I can almost hear the musicians playing a sorrowful tune. Strozzi masterfully portrayed the texture of the clothing, such as Virgin’s red garment with its green lining and blue mantle. I felt as if I could touch the fabric of the veil on the Virgin’s head as it was also superbly rendered. The background was dominated by a stunning gold material.
My admiration of medieval art in the Poldi Pezzoli continued as I became enthralled with Filippo Lippi’s The Pieta (1440) in which the Virgin and Saint John the Evangelist hold up the limp Christ figure who has a gray complexion reminiscent of death. In the distance I saw a mountainous landscape.
Antonio Vivarini and his brother-in-law Giovanni D’Alemagna captivated me with their work, The Virgin and Child Enthroned with Two Angels. In this painting, perhaps part of a polyptych, the Madonna and Child’s throne is pleasantly situated in a garden, giving off a tranquil vibe. The late Gothic and Renaissance features of the throne, figures and landscape were striking.
A sculpture that particularly caught my attention was labelled The Virgin and Child, a Florentine masterpiece from 1280 with many Byzantine elements. While Jesus’ body parts aren’t all proportional, the two figures are nevertheless masterfully sculpted.
I was also enthusiastic about the tapestries. For instance, I saw the Tapestry with Esther Presented to Ahasuerus, made in Brussels in the late 15th and early 16th century. The stunning fabrics included wool, silk, silver and gold. One of the most significant Flemish tapestries in Italy, the masterful work takes its theme from the Old Testament. I noted the characters’ luxurious costumes, especially the king’s extravagant hat. The variety of colors also caught my attention.
I also admired the Canaletto landscapes of Padua and Venice with all the architectural features of the cities. Looking at Canaletto’s works gave me a sense of Italian history as if I could go back in time and look deep into the painting as a witness of the scene portrayed. I fondly recalled the extensive exhibition of Canaletto’s work I had seen in Aux-en-Provence a number of years ago.
The armory, refurbished in 2000, included many 16th century weapons, such as a Borromeo helmet from the 16th century. Its exquisite gilded decoration was made up of designs of a unicorn and Saint Justine. The Gonzaga Helmet, also from the 16th century, was also gilded and showed off adornment of a crescent moon, leaves and flowers. I loved the meticulousness and precision of the designs.
I admired the many stunning pieces of furniture, including the cabinets. One cabinet from the mid-17th century was made of ebony, bronze, silver and semi-precious stones. The small drawers were exquisitely decorated.
My favorite piece of porcelain was a Meissen called The Tooth-Puller from 1750. The woman looked terrified as the evil man held her jaw in an almost violent manner. The facial expressions of terror and evil were well-crafted. I liked the use of the color purple in the designs: the wig-clad tooth-puller was dressed in purple, and the woman wore a purple jacket. Her white skirt was decorated with a purple floral design. The collection included over 80 European porcelain pieces from the 18th century.
I also admired the decorations on the watches hailing from the 16th to 18th centuries and the various designs of the many clocks and sundials. The jewelry and Murano glassware also captured my undivided attention.
This museum housed such a wide array of stunning artifacts in an intimate setting. I loved the house museums in Milan, and visiting the Poldi Pezzoli was certainly one of my most treasured memories of the Italian city that I hold so dear to my heart.
Tracy A. Burns is a writer, proofreader and editor in Prague.
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