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I don’t know if it was related to the feast of John of Nepomuk on Friday, but on Saturday, sv. Ignace was holding a fair at Karlovo Náměstí. There was a swing set for the kiddies:

And a pony ride (I wanna ride a pony!):

There were craft booths:

And this being Prague, of course there was beer. And not just any beer, but Pilsner Urquell:

Of course, some people were content to just sit back and watch:

Legend has it that St. John of Nepomuk was martyred by Václav IV of Bohemia (AKA Václav the Drunkard) because the king, believing that his wife was cheating on him, tried to force her confessor, John of Nepomuk, to violate the seal of the confessional. Most reputable sources think that the real reason had to do with a power struggle, with John of Nepomuk thwarting the king’s attempt to hand over the abbacy of a wealthy monastery to a candidate of the king’s choosing. A much less interesting story. According to Wikipedia, "John of Nepomuk is seen by Catholics as a martyr to the cause of defending the Seal of the Confessional, by romantic nationalists as a Czech martyr to imperial interference, and by most historians as a victim of a late version of the inveterate investiture controversy between secular rulers and the catholic hierarchy." He is at any rate very popular, and there’s scarcely a (Catholic) church in Prague without a statue or altar dedicated to him.

His feast is May 16 and it’s celebrated by a joint vesper service with the church of sv. Tomáš and the church of St Francis on the other side of the river, and I attended this year’s service. After vespers at sv. Tomáš, the two congregations made a solemn procession across Charles Bridge:

The procession stopped at the statue of St John of Nepomuk to commemorate his martyrdom:

We ended up at the church of St. Francis for a closing benediction.

As at Palm Sunday, the tourists were fascinated by this quaint custom and pictures aplenty were taken.

While I was at Prague Castle on Saturday, in my failed attempt to get a look at the Czech Crown jewels, I happened to run across a flyer advertising a “Pottery Making Market at Nelahozeves”. Nelahozeves is a Renaissance château a little ways north of Prague; it’s been restituted to the Lobkowicz family. The town of Nelahozeves is also known for being the birthplace of Antonín Dvořák. So, on Sunday, rather than get up at some ungodly hour to stand in line at Prague Castle, I took the train up the river to Nelahozeves.

There were several dozen stalls, in the outer courtyard, in the approach to the château, and in the inner courtyard, most, but not all, of which were selling pottery or ceramics. There was also a grassy area which was mostly dedicated to games and demonstrations. And, of course, plenty of (not too outrageously overpriced) food and drink. This being the Czech Republic, there was sausage and potato pancakes and goulash and beer.

They were also running the regular tour of the château. There was no English language tour, though; instead, they gave me a pamphlet with the English text of the tour and sent me off with a Czech group.

Since I was in the neighborhood, I wanted to get a look at Dvořák’s birthplace, but it’s open only alternate weekends, and this wasn’t one of those weekends. (You’d really think they could have coordinated this better!).

I took enough photos that, rather than include them in this posting, I’ve put them into a slideshow.

The Czech crown jewels are not on permanent display, but are trotted out only once every few years, and the current display marks the first time in five years that they have been shown.

I had heard that, at the time of the last display, so many people lined up that the line was being closed by 11 AM (for an exhibit that closes its door to visitors at 5 PM), so I made a point of heading to Prague Castle at 9 AM on Saturday morning, only to find that the line, for an exhibit that opened at 9 AM, was already closed for the day. According to the Prague Post, people were getting in line at 3 in the morning! Given the popularity of the exhibit, I really don’t understand why the government doesn’t put the jewels on more frequent, if not permanent, display.

Since I wasn’t able to see the crown jewels but was in the general vicinity, I did pay a visit to the Loreto, which houses a replica of the Santa Casa in Loreto, Italy. (I highly recommend the website’s virtual tour.)

Reportedly, the Loreto was built during the 17th century as part of the Catholic campaign to attract the Czechs back to Catholicism.

Besides the Church of the Nativity and the Santa Casa, the complex houses a treasury which was well worth the visit. The most stunning piece on display was a diamond-encrusted monstrance known as the Prague Sun.

The entrance fee of 110 CZK is waived for priests and religious, which I thought a charming professional gesture.

I’m told by one of my students that replicas of the crown jewels are on permanent display at Karlštejn (a castle near Prague), so I suppose I’ll have to make the trek out there one of these days. It won’t be quite the same, but at least I’ll get a rough sense of what I missed.

I visited Národní Divadlo (the National Theater) to go to the opera, so now it was time to visit Státní Opera (the State Opera) to go the ballet. (To make this come full circle, I’d need to attend a play at the National Ballet, but, alas, there is no such theater. The National Ballet also performs at Národní Divadlo).

I went to see Phantom of the Opera, which recently premiered and which is billed as a "dancing horror love story". It follows the basic story line so familiar from Gaston Leroux’s original story and all the many dramatizations that have followed, except that, suitably enough, Christina is now a dancer, and the Phantom has composed a ballet to showcase her talents. (But so why, then, did they not call it Phantom of the Ballet?) The guiding force behind this production was Libor Vaculík.

I was reasonably pleased by the ballet. The music didn’t particularly impress me (and a few passages put me strongly in mind of Sir Andrew Lloyd Webber!), and while the dancing was of a fine calibre, the choreography emphasized more telling the story than dancing. I would very much more like to see how the company can dance than how it can act. They did manage to introduce a welcome note of humor into the drama, and I have no complaint with the dancers.

The theater itself is an exquisite little jewel box, and I look forward to returning. With both Státní Opera and Národní Divadlo, my mental standard for comparison is the San Francisco Opera House, which is downright cavernous by comparison. These theaters are much more intimate, and I don’t think that there can be a bad seat in the house.

The day was really quite nice: it’s a pity that I couldn’t have gone to the ballet yesterday and had today for my trip to Kŕivoklát!