European Epic # 3: Vyšehrad and Vltava

Any musical readers of this blog may fairly easily guess that the my connecting Swiss airline flights brought me to this place as the next stop on my European trip: the city of Prague, capital of the Czech Republic.



The connection, and the title of this post, derive from the orchestral masterpiece by the first of the great Czech nationalist composers, Bedrich Smetana -- a cycle of six symphonic poems entitled Má Vlast ("My Country"). The first of the six tone poems is entitled Vyšehrad, while the second one is called Vltava.

More on that subject in a few moments.

First and foremost, gentle readers, please note: we are not talking about "Czechoslovakia" here. The two quite different socio-cultural units that were merged together in that forced "shotgun" marriage after World War One now occupy separate countries, with the capital of Slovakia located in Bratislava. Czechs and Slovaks alike are united in hating people who still call their homelands "Czechoslovakia."  You're welcome.

My generation are used to thinking of this region as part of "Eastern Europe" because of our memories of the divided continent under Soviet rule (until 1989-1991), yet Prague is actually farther west than such "Western" capitals as Vienna, Helsinki, and Athens.



Although Prague is one of the busiest tourist-destination cities in Europe, I'm ashamed to admit that this is the first time I've ever visited here. Like many of Europe's main centres, this is a bustling, vibrant modern city with diverse shopping, dining, and cultural opportunities galore, all accommodated in a collection of historic structures from every one of the last 7 or 8 centuries.

The historic parts of Prague spread not only through the "Old Town" on the right bank of the Vltava River, but across the river and the ancient Charles Bridge towards the even older "Lesser Town," beneath the soaring escarpment crowned by Prague Castle.

I spent my first evening in Prague reuniting and reminiscing with an old friend who lives there now, a fraternity brother whom I had not seen for far too long. In typical Prague style, our reunion encompassed a couple of litre steins of local beer and several shots of hruškovice, a clear and innocent-looking pear liqueur (hah!). Result: no hangover (amazing), but one serious case of sleeping-in the next morning.

My first full day in Prague was sunny and hot, and therefore set aside for my pilgrimage to the heights of Vyšehrad. The Czech name means "upper castle/fortress," which makes sense because this sizable hilltop parkland is still enclosed by huge brick-and-stone fortifying walls.

Smetana's musical depiction of Vyšehrad begins with harp chords evoking the singing of a bard, recalling ancient legends. Very authentic, because Vyšehrad is ancient -- the foundations of the fortress and the basilica within it go back over a thousand years. Prague Castle is a relative Johnny-come-lately. The music runs through episodes depicting the glory and strength of Vyšehrad, then its downfall, and the piece ends with a quietly reminiscent recall of the opening harps. Being the musical-historical person I am, I went through the entire day with passages from Smetana's beautiful and heartfelt tone poem running through my head.

Today, Vyšehrad rises as prominently as ever on its steep, rocky headland above the river.

                    Photo by Stanislav Jelen - Self-photographed, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=4799248

It's not hard to see why this of all places was chosen as a natural site for fortification. I like to think that the end of Smetana's music can as easily depict the continuing strength and even the continuing existence of this historic strong point -- as well as its gentle modern-day slumber in the sunshine.

To get there, you just have to take the Metro "B" line to the Vyšehrad station. The Prague Metro is clean, well-signed, easy to navigate, and unbelievably cheap. A single ticket for a ride within the city lasting less than 45 minutes is 24 Czech korunas, or approximately Cdn$1.40. The same ride in London would cost £4.90 or Cdn$8.25. Yikes!

When you get to Vyšehrad station, if coming from downtown, just walk straight out the exit from the platform and up the stairs -- and you'll see directional signs to the fortress. In about 5 minutes walking, you'll come to the first great bastion in the outer wall, and the ancient Tabor Gate.





Inside the gate, just keep following the roadway past some buildings, through the Leopoldova Gate, and past the Rotunda of St. Martina.



As you round the sharp bend in the roadway, you will see ahead of you the Basilica of Sts. Peter and Paul, and beside it the walled Vyšehrad Cemetery, burial place of many of the greats of Bohemian and Czech history. Enter the cemetery, a haven of peace and quiet...



…and navigate your way to the diagonally far corner. This is the main spot I needed to see in my pilgrimage: the grave of Antonín Dvořák, the greatest of all Bohemian/Czech composers, and the first person to make the culture and art of his beloved Bohemia known to the wider world as something distinct from that of the controlling Austro-Hungarian empire.





And since both Dvořák and Smetana have been lifelong favourite composers of mine, it's not hard to understand why a day up here at Vyšehrad mattered so much to me.

The other point of interest up here for many visitors is the Basilica of Sts. Peter and Paul. It's not a large church, but the elaborate decoration of the shrines and chapels within, and the huge wall paintings in the chancel end of the church, rival for scale and spectacle almost anything found in the great Baroque churches of Europe -- yet all within a Gothic structure, an interesting combination. It's well worth the modest admission fee of 9 korunas (about 50 cents).

So here's the great façade...

…and the left side door dedicated to St. Cyril, one of two saints who helped to spread Christianity into the Slavic regions of Europe. The decoration on the doors and the archway is all in mosaic tiles. The similar partner door on the right side is dedicated to his companion, St. Methodius.

A couple of the inside chapel altars:





The chancel end and high altar, showing those huge wall paintings:



On the opposite end of scale, an exquisite small reliquary in the basilica's treasury. It's only 14cm tall, so this picture is near to actual size -- on my laptop screen, anyway.



Leaving the basilica, take a few short steps across the open pavement, duck through the small doorway in the wall, and you'll find yourself on a walkway outside the ramparts with this beautiful view of Prague Castle and some of the bridges over the river to admire.



This view is on a different walkway, just by the Vyšehrad art gallery, which is clearly signposted.



The river is the majestic Vltava, which flows north and empties into the Elbe in Germany, on its way to the North Sea. Oh, by the way, for those who don't know already, the German name of the Vltava is "Moldau," and Smetana's tone poem, Vltava, is often (incorrectly) called "The Moldau." In fact, it is by a long head start his best-known and most popular work, and really deserves to be referred to by its proper title.

If you remember it, and/or choose to listen to it now, you can hardly escape noticing the grandly majestic chord theme just before the end of the piece. That passage depicts the Vltava flowing past Prague, and the chords are (of course) the main theme from the preceding tone poem in the cycle, which just happens to be Vyšehrad.

Aside from this musical pilgrimage, what else happened during my time in Prague? Since I was staying in a Hilton hotel in the Old Town district (the points again, thanks very much!), I could hardly escape spending some time walking around in Old Town and photographing some of the buildings.

Of course, this quickly turns into more musical pilgrimage. The narrow, twisting, cobbled streets of Prague's Old Town and Lesser Town districts were the unsung stars of the 1984 film, Amadeus.

The National Theatre (also called the Estates Theatre) in Prague was used to film the grand opera sequences of the movie, appropriately so since it was the site of the original premiere of Mozart's celebrated music drama, Don Giovanni.

And son of a gun, will you look what's on stage at the National right now?



Not far away, right by the river, is the Rudolfinum, which houses Dvořák Hall. This acoustically magnificent concert hall is the home of the Czech Philharmonic Orchestra. Incidentally, Dvořák himself conducted the inaugural concert of the hall in 1885, so it's fitting that his monument appears outside, facing the concert hall that now bears his name.



A short distance downstream is the historic old Charles Bridge, a UNESCO world heritage site because of its Gothic architecture and the striking religious statuary adorning it. The bridge was begun in 1357 and took about half a century to complete. The statuary mostly dates from the 1600s (and the originals are all in museums now, replaced on the bridge by replicas). King Charles IV has the most imposing monument of all, looking proudly towards the bridge which he began and which now bears his name.



That bridge, not by chance, was the making of Prague as a major trade centre, since the dry-land crossing of the wide Vltava created one of the few through passage ways in medieval times between eastern and western Europe.

The approach to the bridge -- pedestrians only, nowadays -- is through the base of the Gothic Bridge Tower.



Not only is the bridge itself an eye-popping experience (if the hordes of visitors don't deter you), but it gives splendid views of the Lesser Town and Prague Castle. Seeing those places will have to wait for my next visit.





Just south of the Charles Bridge can be found a collection of restaurants all too plainly aimed at the tourist trade. But what the heck -- traditional Czech dishes are offered alongside hamburgers and fries, the outside tables overlook the river, and the breeze was cooling me down nicely after my walk. Two pints of pilsener, some sparkling water, and a plate of roast pork with dumplings and red cabbage went down well. I especially enjoyed the crisp coating on the pork, made by pressing caraway seeds into the thin surface layer of fat before roasting.

After lunch, I walked out to the end of the terrace, overlooking the bridge and the river, and there -- very appropriately -- was a monument to Smetana, forever gazing out over the rolling waters of Vltava to which his music gave true immortality.

Walking back through Old Town would have been a bit of a trial to anyone inclined to agoraphobia, and that's an understatement. The narrow streets and alleyways with their cobbled pavements were so jammed with bodies by this time that I was moving at about half my normal speed.

Just as well -- it gave me a chance to admire the fascinating old architecture all around me.






It's not far from the bridge to Old Town Square, the hub of the central area, and the heart of tourist Prague. The highlight here is the medieval Town Hall Clock, with its animated figures of the 12 apostles which appear in turn every hour. The actual astronomical clock is undergoing repairs (it's located behind the scaffolding and tarps on the lower side of the tower) but it's hoped to have it back in service before the end of the year. Time will tell. (Sorry, I had to do it.) The other imposing presence on the square is the twin-spired Church of Our Lady Before Tyn, on the east side.



If anyone else knows the reason for that peculiar form of dedication for the church, I'd love to know what it is -- I haven't been able to find out.

The imposing monument in the centre of Old Town Square commemorates the 15th-century religious zealot and reformer, Jan Hus, and his famous Hussite movement.



On a final and more whimsical note, although Prague is a historian's dream town, its present-day self includes all kinds of fascinating human activity. From sightseeing tours in open faux-antique cars...



...to blowing bubbles on the street -- on a grand scale...



...Prague definitely has its light-hearted and more entertaining side, too.