In search of...

Today was a bit of a patchwork day: the monastery reading room was closed, as was the music reading room (studovna) of the National Library (Narodni Knihovna), so I was forced to fill my day with activities besides looking at old books.

I decided I'd go on a quest for what remains of Rudolf II's art collection (the bulk is, you guessed it, in Sweden). Rudolf II was one of the most prolific collectors of his time, and probably of any time. He collected paintings, sculptures, engravings, as well as painters, sculptors and engravers. I'd seen a few pieces in the Prague Castle Collections, and I knew that the National Gallery was where I'd find most of them. But...

...I never actually found them. It turns out the National Gallery is actually spread among 4 (or 5, or 6, or 7, or 8) palaces around the city. It's not entirely clear (even to the staff) how many different outposts there are, and what each one holds. I'm not complaining at all! It just meant that I didn't get to see any of the paintings I was looking for. I did, however, see many many many other paintings, and I feel a bit overwhelmed by it all.

I started out at the Sternberg (Sternbergsky) Palace, which is an 18th-century edifice up on Castle Hill. Things looked promising: the sign said Old Masters, so I paid my 80 koruny (about 5 dollars) and wandered in. I saw an (early) Rembrandt of a scholar in his study, some astonishing 15th-century altarpieces, too many paintings by Rubens, and a bunch of Pieter Brueghel II. The tourist buses apparently stick to Prague Castle, so I had the place to myself, save for the occasional walk-through by a yawning security guard.

The Austrian/German old masters were across the courtyard, and that part of the palace was even more deserted. When I walked in, the two security guards were chatting animatedly. I wandered into a room to my left, noticing that as I did so the security guards snapped to attention. I didn't think anything of it, and settled in admiring some small-scale religious paintings. Then I turned around and saw....


...Durer's Rosenkranz Madonna. No wonder the security guards were alert! Durer painted it for a brotherhood of German merchants in Venice ca. 1500, and Rudolf II had it hand-carried (!) over the Alps for his collection about 100 years later. (He also had his own court painters make copies of Durer paintings he couldn't acquire). Sometime after he died, the painting was severely damaged down the middle and was not taken to Sweden in 1648 (because it was damaged??). My dad tells me that he read that the Madonna painting spent time nailed to a roof in Prague somewhere, which certainly can't have helped matters. In any case, the damage is visible, but the painting is still spectacular. All those people who skip visiting the gallery are missing out...

So, I still had not found my Rudolfine art. The woman at the ticket desk said to check out the branch of the gallery at St George's Convent, within Prague Castle. So, I paid another 80 koruny and found myself in an exhibit of 19th-century Bohemian art. Um. It was all quite interesting. A lot of domestic scenes, landscapes, portraits. An interesting window into 19th-c Bohemia.

I found this painting interesting: it's by a Prague painter and depicts a scene from the Ring of the Nibelung. It was painted right around the time Wagnermania was sweeping Europe in the 1870s-80s.

Then, I found this lovely set of miniatures depicting all the Kings of Bohemia, going all the way back to the mythical "Krok," the first king of all. It was painted by a 19th-century Prague painter for his own private enjoyment (he kept it all his life), and is based on a set of paintings (now lost) in Prague castle from the Renaissance. He continued it all the way into his time. So, he painted the famous Libuse, the Presmyslid dynasty, and of course the Habsburgs. There's my man, Rudolf, at the upper left of this picture. Sorry for the poor quality!

Back outside the Castle, in Hradschin Square (Hradcansky Namesti), I saw a fascinating Renaissance palace. It looks like it's straight from Italy, and the stones look like they're carved into little pyramids. See?

On closer inspection, I realized it was all clever trickery --- trompe l'oeil. Kind of humorous, in a way.

All of this took some time, and I still had to go to the National Library to see if I could get a reader's card, so I headed down the hill to the Old Town. The National Library is located within the former Jesuit College, the Clementinum. You can see from this photo:

that the Jesuits picked their location strategically: their church of St Salvator is the first thing you see when you enter the Old Town from Charles Bridge. The Old Town was mostly Hussite and Czech, so the Jesuits were laying down the gauntlet when they set up shop there in the late 16th century.

Getting a library card was no problem, and I managed to get one even with my incoherent Czech. It cost me about 6 dollars for a year. I must add that the National Library provides a great example of how a library can democratize its treasures -- they have a massive digitalization project for all their rare holdings, and have partnered with several important institutions in Germany as well (i.e. University of Heidelberg). Institutions anywhere can subscribe to this website (www.manuscriptorium.cz) and all their students can access high-quality images of manuscripts and early printed books.

I had one more quest: I needed to find the Italian Chapel (Wallsche /Vlasske Kaple). This was the first Baroque building in Prague, built from 1590-1600 by the large Italian community that lived in the area immediately around the Clementinum. The Italians were Catholic, and were the architects and stonemasons that designed and built Renaissance and Baroque Prague. They founded their own Marian confraternity under the protection of the Jesuits --- and here's why I'm interested --- they sponsored and sang polyphonic music in their new chapel and in processions through the streets on important feast days.

It took me a while to find it - the Clementinum was built up around it in the 17th century. It was a bit of a disappointment, as it was closed and in a state of some disrepair. Still, I look forward to seeing its interior at some point....


I needed a quiet place to sit down, so I wandered through Old Town Square to the Church of Mary Tyn.The church gets its name from the Tyn (Umgeld) courtyard just behind it. It was the main church for the Hussites, and had a big golden chalice on the front. The chalice symbolized the Hussite desire to partake jointly in both body and blood of Christ. When the Jesuits got hold of the church (forcibly!) after about 1620, they melted the chalice down and replaced it with a golden Virgin Mary, which you can still see today.

I love the spires on Mary Tyn. I haven't seen anything like them anywhere else.

Inside, I found the grave of Tycho Brahe, mathematician and colleague of Kepler's at Rudolf's court. Brahe was a Lutheran, so I'm a bit puzzled as to why he chose to be buried in the Hussite church when he died (ca. 1600). Then again, I don't think the Lutherans had a church in Prague until around 1600, so maybe he thought it was the next best thing... I wish I knew more about what exactly Brahe did, but I don't. I know he completed the Tabula Rudolphina, astronomical tables for his patron, good old Rudolph...and also that he still believed that the planets travelled in circular orbits. (Kepler corrected him on that, only by then Brahe was dead).
I will have to ask a physicist about Brahe. Helloooo? Anyone? Yoohoo?