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.
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.
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.
Whenever I visit Kutná Hora, the highlight of my trip there is the Late Gothic Church of Saint Barbara, a five-nave structure dedicated to the martyr representing the mining profession. During the Middle Ages, when the building of the church began, Kutná hora had been thriving thanks to its mining of silver and minting of groschen coins.
The exterior captures my undivided attention every time thanks to its double-arched flying buttresses and gargoyles. I loved the Late Gothic style that was preserved on the outside. While some of the interior had been transformed into Baroque and Neo-Gothic style, the church still retained many Gothic elements, including frescoes from the Middle Ages.
The construction on the church, initiated in the 14th century, was carried out by Jan Parler, son of Petr Parler. Jan’s father had been one of the most prominent architects and sculptors of the Holy Roman Empire under Emperor Charles IV’s reign, when Prague was the capital. Petr’s major accomplishments included work on Saint Vitus’ Cathedral at Prague Castle and the building of the Charles Bridge. Petr also planned the New Town part of Prague. His unique architectural style can be seen on Prague’s Old Bridge Tower, too. Jan took part in the construction of Saint Vitus’ Cathedral and was the main builder of the Church of Saint Barbara in Kutná Hora.
However, the Hussite wars of the 15th century got in the way, and work was halted as the church was pillaged. Construction was interrupted for 60 years. Then, at the end of the 15th century, Master Hanuš crafted much of the magnificent vaulting and part of the triforium.
After he died in 1489, a stonemason, sculptor and architect named Matyáš Rejsek took over. A master of the Late Gothic style, Rejsek had been inspired by Petr Parler’s creations. Rejsek made Prague’s statue-decorated Powder Tower, for instance. He also built Kutná Hora’s town hall, but that structure no longer stands. A large portion of the Church of Saint Barbara’s Gothic exterior was Rejsek’s work, including the gargoyles and upper triforium. He was responsible for interior décor as well, including the tabernacle, balustrades of the choir and the awe-inspiring choir vaulting adorned with emblems of countries and guilds. During his time, the church became a true Late Gothic gem. Construction did not stop until six years after his death, in 1506.
Then in the 16th century work started again with Benedikt Rejk (sometimes called Reid) in control. I knew him best as the architect of Prague Castle’s Vladislav Hall with its magnificent vaulting. He was responsible for the main nave and the Late Gothic large vaulting with helical ribs of the Church of Saint Barbara, for example.
Baroque reconstruction took place when the Jesuits took charge. Then, from 1885 to 1905, remodeling was carried out. At this time the main altar and stained glass windows were formed. I was always particularly captivated with the windows dating from the end of the 19th century and beginning of the 20th century. The stained glass decoration portrays events in Kutná Hora and Czech history. Habsburg Emperor Franz Josef’s visit to Kutná Hora in the early 20th century makes up one scene.
One of my favorite works in the church is the statue of a miner, which hails from 1700. The miner is holding a lamp and tool in his hands as he seems ready to traverse the depths of the mines. Another gem, the statue of Our Lady Enthroned, dates from 1308.
The Minters’ Chapel is one of my favorites with 15th century frescoes that include a scene of two miners doing their job and a mallet-wielding minter making the groschen coins that Kutná Hora was famous for in the Middle Ages. In Smíšek’s Chapel visitors see the family gathered around an altar and other remarkable works. Baroque frescoes also dot the interior, including the altar of Ignatius of Loyola, which shows off the conversion of Ignatius.
The intricate woodcarving of the choir benches hails from the late 15th century. The main altar is a Neo-Gothic replica of the original Late Gothic altar with the theme of the Last Supper. The Baroque altar of Saint Agatha is home to four Baroque paintings depicting the life of Saint Wenceslas, the patron saint of the Czech lands. The impressive stone pulpit dates from 1566.
I have never grown bored of visiting the Church of Saint Barbara, even though I have been there on numerous occasions. Both the exterior and interior are astounding as this church is the highlight of any trip to Kutná Hora.
Tracy A. Burns is a writer, proofreader and editor in Prague.
Prague’s Wallenstein Riding Stables hosted a comprehensive exhibition of Josef Mánes’ portraits, genre paintings, landscapes, drawings, prints, designs and illustrations of Slav history from the Czech Romanticism and Realism eras of the 19th century. Some 400 of his creations captured my undivided attention. He also created standards, insignia and uniforms for the Sokol physical education organization, some of which were also on display.
I knew the name well because Josef Mánes had been born into an artistic family: His father, Antonín, created landscapes while his brother and two sisters also became painters. Josef – I will refer to him by his first name so readers do not confuse him with his father or siblings – grew up in the Habsburg Empire when German was the official language of the Czech lands. He spoke only German as a youth. He didn’t learn Czech until he was grown up, even though he was one of the leading figures in the Czech National Revival that promoted the Czech language.
This prominent artist was inspired by his time in Munich, where he spent three years as a young man. For many years he resided in Moravia, including at the Čechy pod Košířem Chateau. In addition to making portraits, landscapes and Second Rococo style genre paintings, Josef developed a strong interest in folk costume, rendering portraits of Czechs in traditional dress. He created many works portraying villagers and everyday life in the Hana region of Moravia.
Inspired by Prague’s Old Town, Josef created portraits of its residents and even painted two genre paintings for Prague brothels. His work also decorated much more elegant structures, such as the Žofín concert hall in the center of Prague, for instance. When I first set foot in Prague, I fell in love with the Old Town. I could sense the history of the nation on its streets and in Josef Mánes’ paintings of that historical quarter.
His portraits are stunning because they are characterized by immense psychological depth and sensitivity. The viewer almost is looking into the sitter’s soul. Each portrait told an individual story of a unique life. Before this exhibition, I had considered him to be first and foremost a portrait painter, but I learned at the Wallenstein Riding Stables that he had been much more versatile in his accomplishments.
I was most enamored by his landscapes because I was fascinated by landscape painting in general, especially by Czech art in this field. I had seen many exciting Czech landscapes in galleries throughout the country as well as in chateaus. Josef’s work utilized subtle colors and masterful brushwork that portrayed both the Czech and Slovak countryside with elements of Romanticism and Realism. He was one of my favorite landscape painters, excelling at employing light and atmosphere in his renderings of the Hana region, the Czech Paradise region, the Krkonoše Mountains and the Šumava Mountains, for instance. I had traveled extensively throughout these parts of the country. Josef’s travels in the Austrian Alps also inspired the creations of some masterful landscapes. While I had never been there in person, I always wound up gawking at the sheer power, beauty and seemingly invincibility of the Austrian Alps. In several other works, he depicted nymphs, using the Šumava Mountains and Moravia’s Čechy pod Košířem as backdrops.
On Astronomical Clock
Astronomical Clock
Perhaps Josef’s greatest achievement was creating 12 medallions for Prague’s Astronomical Clock. I recalled how so many tourists crowded around the clock to watch its hourly show in the late morning and afternoon. I always came to admire the clock in the early morning to avoid the crowds and the possibility of getting pickpocketed. Painted in 1865, the original calendar dial was on display at this exhibition. The allegories of the months of the year dealt with agriculture themes. I often had admired the calendar in the Museum of the City of Prague, where it was usually on display.
Astronomical Clock
I looked closely at the calendar dial, which consisted of circular rings. Standing for the 12 months, figures dressed in folk costume glorified Slav identity. September was represented by the ruins of Troský Castle, which I had seen on my trips numerous times. The Czech village tradition of pig-slaughtering was the focus of December. I remember one irate acquaintance telling me that he did not support the European Union because its regulations did not allow citizens to slaughter their own pigs at home.
Bezděz Castle was in the background of March. I recalled the four-kilometer walk up to the castle ruins that had fascinated me, even though I was not usually so enthusiastic about ruins. A young farmer used a plough in the foreground of the March portrayal. Josef had also painted allegories of zodiac signs. I noticed dolphins and a plump cherub for Pisces. Capricorn was represented by a cherub leading a goat. Romanesque features were evident in Josef’s pictorial work for the dial.
Designed for Sokol physical education organization
Josef’s personal life had not been so rosy, however. After he got a servant pregnant, his parents made him marry her. Josef also was plagued by mental illness from 1866, when he began to lose much weight, to pronounce words badly and behave in a strange manner. It is possible that he suffered from syphilis affecting the brain or tuberculosis. He died in 1871 at the age of 51.
The exhibition also included explanations of how Josef’s work has been perceived throughout the centuries. After his death, he achieved fame because of his work for the Czech National Revival. As the 20th century approached, Josef became known as an artistic pioneer of new trends and advancements in his field. During Communism, though, his works took on an ideological meaning. It was not until after the downfall of Communism that people interested in art could once again express the masterful skill and individuality of his paintings as his works became appreciated in the cultural sphere.
While I had seen many works by Josef throughout the country, I was overwhelmed by viewing so many in one large exhibition hall. I had not truly understood the mastery of Josef’s art and realized that he had been so talented at many genres. For a long time, I had admired the works of his siblings and father, too. Now I knew that Josef was the most skilled in his family. I was fascinated by all aspects of this exhibition.
Tracy A. Burns is a writer, proofreader and editor in Prague.
Early in 2023, I went to an exhibition of sculpture by late Croatian sculptor, architect and writer Ivan Meštrović. The art gallery at Prague’s main library hosted the intriguing show. I was familiar with the artist’s name: I had admired his villa, the Ivan Meštrović Gallery, in Split on my last trip to Croatia some years ago. It contained 86 sculptures made with various materials, showing off his dramatic, dynamic and expressive style that was both poetic and poignant. Drawings and reliefs were displayed, too. The bronze statue-dotted garden was delightful. One of my favorite things about traveling was being introduced to the works of various artists. I was enamored with Meštrović’s creations, and his unique, powerful style was forever embedded in my memory.
During Meštrović’s illustrious career that spanned six decades, he had been influenced by a number of styles ranging from Art Nouveau, Symbolism, Impressionism, Art Deco, Neoclassicism and Late Realism. Classicism played a major role in shaping his artistic style, too. Auguste Rodin’s naturalist style, which he had meticulously studied, greatly inspired him. During his extensive travels, Meštrović also saw Michelangelo’s creations, which affected his own work. poignant.
Meštrović’s subjects were diverse as well. He took on religious themes, created portrait busts, made sculptural monuments and delved into studies of figures. A firm believer in promoting Yugoslav national identity, he also presented folk themes and national myths. He fervently advocated for pan-Slavism, and some of his works represented historical events in Slav history.
The sculptor’s career took off when he exhibited his works in Vienna during 1905 as part of the Secession Group. While living in Paris for two years, he received recognition from all over the world and was very prolific. Then he spent four years in Rome, where he was lauded for his design of the Serbian Pavilion at Rome’s1911 International Exhibition. During World War I, he traveled extensively and spoke out against the Habsburg monarchy that controlled his homeland.
He returned to his homeland after the war ended and achieved much success while living in Zagreb. He even created many sculptures for King Alexander I of the Kingdom of Serbs, Croats and Slovenes. He continued to travel, even having an exhibition at the Brooklyn Museum in New York during the 1920s.
During World War II, Meštrović’s life was far from rosy. In 1941, he spent three-and-a-half months in prison. The following year his first wife died, and many of her Jewish relatives perished during the war. Thanks to the Vatican, Meštrović was let out of prison and took off to Venice and then back to Rome. He even met Pope Pius XII.
After World War II, he refused to return to Yugoslavia because the Communists were in control. He wound up in the USA during 1946, when he took a position as a professor at Syracuse University. His works were displayed at the Metropolitan Museum of New York the following year, and he was the first Croatian to do so. He continued to achieve great success and much recognition in the USA and even received the American Academy of Arts and Letters’ Gold Medal in the field of sculpture during1953. American President Dwight D. Eisenhower was so impressed with Meštrović that he gave him US citizenship. Meštrović took a job at the University of Notre Dame in Indiana soon after that. He designed monuments at Notre Dame, and his sculpture is featured in the university’s art museum.
He died in Indiana during 1962 at the age of 79 and was buried in his hometown of Otavice, though the Communists in control of Yugoslavia created many difficulties. His sculptures can be seen all over the world: in Serbia and Romania as well as in the United States, including Louisiana, Indiana, New York and Illinois.
This exhibition focused on Meštrović’s Czechoslovak connection as he had developed an affinity for Czech culture. He befriended the first democratic President of Czechoslovakia, Tomáš Garrigue Masaryk. They both had taken an anti-Habsburg stance during World War I. Also, Meštrović and Masaryk had lived in exile during the first World War. They both admired Slav history. While Meštrović wanted a united Yugoslavia of Croats, Serbs and Slovenes, Masaryk tried to forge a united Czechoslovakia of Czechs and Slovaks. Meštrović sculpted two busts of Masaryk in 1923 as well as busts of his wife Charlotte and his daughter Alice. He created these busts at the Czechoslovak President’s summer residence, Lány Chateau. I recalled spending some sunny afternoons in the park of the chateau in Lány as well as paying my respects at the Masaryk family graves.
Masaryk was by no means the only Czech Meštrović knew. For example, Meštrović was friends with Czech sculptor Bohumil Kafka and even created a portrait bust of Kafka during 1908.
Meštrović’s work was first unveiled in Prague during 1903, when the Habsburgs ruled the Czech lands. His work was included in an exhibition featuring Croatian artists at the Mánes Association in Prague. Mestrovic had another exhibition in Prague during 1933. President Masaryk was so impressed with Meštrović that he presented the Croatian sculptor with the Order of the White Lion award during 1926.
I was enthralled with the Czech connection between Meštrović and artists in Czechoslovakia. Tomáš Garrigue Masaryk was one of my heroes, and I was very interested in life during the First Republic, when Masaryk was president. I felt strong emotions when viewing Meštrović’s powerful works. I also thought back to my introduction to Meštrović’s creations in Split. What a discovery! I was glad to be reacquainted with Meštrović’s sculptures. Seeing his renditions in person was a profound experience.
Tracy A. Burns is a writer, proofreader and editor in Prague.
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