"'Blue Velvet' Revolution"
In the nine years since my last visit, Prague has, unsurprisingly, changed a lot, and in many ways for the worse. Arriving in the Zizkov district with my fiancee last Saturday, we discovered that not only has this shabby district got even shabbier in the intervening period, but that it is now packed with casinos and strip clubs. (Don't bother staying at the Three Crowns Hotel by the way: it is decidedly mediocre and prison beds are probably more comfortable).
For seediness though, Zizkov has nothing on the epicentre of Prague's "'Blue Velvet' Revolution", Wenceslas Square. The positive vibes of 1989 have been thoroughly eclipsed by a tacky neon paean to the lowest-common-denominator: Porn, pissed Brits and pickpockets (legal or otherwise). Especially sad for a country that began its democratic project by electing a playwright president.
Of course, the old town and castle district are still beautiful and can make all the hassle seem worthwhile. Then again, even the reverie of a walk across Charles Bridge is likely to be short-lived thanks to the crowds, the hawkers and groups of stags and hens saying things like, "Now that's what I call muff diving!"
Even though there are now far more dining options, the city's eateries remain very average for the most part, particularly in terms of service. At least the beer is still great and relatively cheap, so you can quickly wash the bad taste out of your mouth.
And, despite the focus on booze-sozzled weekenders, more interesting nightlife options are now available. The excellent jazz club Agharta for instance, a mellow and well-ventilated cave where we saw first rate neo-post-boppers, Vit Svec Trio.
Another change for the better is the recognition afforded to the city's literary, artistic and architectural heritage. Whether you love or loathe Cubism, Alfons Mucha and Franz Kafka, you can now appreciate their repsctive legacies in a way that was not really possible back in the mid-90s. Particularly impressive is "The City of K: Frank Kafka and Prague," a temporary exhibition at the Herget's Brickworks in Mala Strana that was first staged in Barcelona in 1999. It tells the story of the celebrated author's life and work in a clear and engaging manner, including nice little touches such as exhibits inside a wall of filing cabinets. In fact, the museum was so good, it almost made me want to read Kafka again. Almost, but not quite.
For seediness though, Zizkov has nothing on the epicentre of Prague's "'Blue Velvet' Revolution", Wenceslas Square. The positive vibes of 1989 have been thoroughly eclipsed by a tacky neon paean to the lowest-common-denominator: Porn, pissed Brits and pickpockets (legal or otherwise). Especially sad for a country that began its democratic project by electing a playwright president.
Of course, the old town and castle district are still beautiful and can make all the hassle seem worthwhile. Then again, even the reverie of a walk across Charles Bridge is likely to be short-lived thanks to the crowds, the hawkers and groups of stags and hens saying things like, "Now that's what I call muff diving!"
Even though there are now far more dining options, the city's eateries remain very average for the most part, particularly in terms of service. At least the beer is still great and relatively cheap, so you can quickly wash the bad taste out of your mouth.
And, despite the focus on booze-sozzled weekenders, more interesting nightlife options are now available. The excellent jazz club Agharta for instance, a mellow and well-ventilated cave where we saw first rate neo-post-boppers, Vit Svec Trio.
Another change for the better is the recognition afforded to the city's literary, artistic and architectural heritage. Whether you love or loathe Cubism, Alfons Mucha and Franz Kafka, you can now appreciate their repsctive legacies in a way that was not really possible back in the mid-90s. Particularly impressive is "The City of K: Frank Kafka and Prague," a temporary exhibition at the Herget's Brickworks in Mala Strana that was first staged in Barcelona in 1999. It tells the story of the celebrated author's life and work in a clear and engaging manner, including nice little touches such as exhibits inside a wall of filing cabinets. In fact, the museum was so good, it almost made me want to read Kafka again. Almost, but not quite.
posted by Justin Toland at 11:30 pm
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