Prague as seen from hilltop monastery.
What'd I do in Prague? A few churches, one modernist cathedral -- Church of the Most Sacred Heart of Our Lord (seriously) --, a bunch of lovely sculptures, river walks, sausages. The Castle Cathedral is extraordinary inside and out, elaborate gargoyles outside, stained glass by Alfons Mucha (who does those frequently calendarized seasonal ladies). I saw some of David Cerny's sculpture, and went to his studio space for a concert of sorts. When the Communists overthrew the Nazis, they created a monument to themselves -- a tank -- and Cerny, however long after the fact painted it pink to make a mockery of the fact that it was essentially one regime glorifying it's overthrow of another. Most of this work has this incendiary tone, or if not exactly incendiary, at least irreverent.
Cerny's babies crawling up the T.V. tower.
The city itself was beautiful, split by a winding river, edged by forests and fields of flowering trees. The Charles Bridge lined with looming statues of saints; Bukowski's, a windowless bar with delicious cocktails that felt very post-Sovient chic; Petrin Forest's steep hills and blooming orchards. Too many impressions. Pictures will attempt to say what I haven't.
Resentment still lingers, it would seem.
In other news, I'm coming home from Greece a month earlier than I'd planned. The program changed from what it was initially, and I decided to flee the Mediterranean in hopes of celebrating national independence in the homeland. I am excited to see you all!
Lonely statue at dusk.
1 comment:
what gives? How 'bout an update?
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