24 April 2014

Photography and Memory

Late last year, my book club colleague Howard Crane suggested that I read Laurent Binet’s HHhH, (Himmlers Hirn heißt Heydrich), which I did.  It is an account of the assassination of Reinhard Heydrich, “Nazi Protector of Bohemia” and instigator of the “final solution”, in Prague in 1942.  It also has a sub text about writing historical novels, but that was what was not interesting me this morning.  I wanted to revisit Ss. Cyril and Methodius Church (actually, Cathedral) in Prague.  I actually remembered how to get there, and my memory was full of the poignancy of seeing the crypt and reading the story of Jan Kubiš, and Jozef Gabčik who were trained in Britian and returned to Czekosolovakia to do the deed.  The first time I left in a rage.  The second time I left with a deep appreciation for all those who sacrifice for others.  The crypt, aside from being the actual place where they killed themselves after being assaulted by the Germans for several days, seemed through its photographs, candles, and statuary to be a place that needed to be remembered.  Funny thing about memory, however – I hadn’t remembered that it was a Baroque building.  Other images were more important.

I went down Resslova Street, past Frank Gehry’s “Fred and Ginger” building, over the Vltava River on the Jiráskuv most over to the “south” side of the river.  There was a pleasant walk up toward Hradcany and Park Kampa.  I paused for a refreshment right before the park, and sitting there watching people walk, bike, and relax, I realized that just sitting there was exactly what I needed to do.  A kid was playing in the window of a wonderful Jugendstil building.  I wondered what his memories would be.  The park was lovely with white and purple lilacs, and blooming chestnuts everywhere.  There was a quick detour to the Infant of Prague’s house, which was filled with lots of noisy tourists in spite of the fact that the Mass was being celebrated.  He looked good, so I left. 

I had to stop off at Saint Nicholas Church.  It is a baroque wonder, and I wished that my friend and colleague Mother Lizette Larson-Miller were with me.  She would have loved decoding the iconographic program there, like the hooded woman holding the chalice and host of the Utraquists (Hussites) standing the left (get it) of the pulpit, very much on the sideline.  There were other delights – huge statues of eastern saints, a beautiful portative organ in the gallery, and gilt everywhere.  Finally it’s like a hot fudge sundae, you just can’t take any more.

My real intentions where to get to St. Vitus.  Geo and Realpolitik were to undermine that however.  Some “meeting of presidents” had closed down all of the castle and thus the cathedral as well.  I made my way back through the back streets to the Mánesuv most over to the Rudolfinum, where there was an exhibition of Barbara Probst photographs.  Later, after people watching and a rather dry Sacher Torte in the Rudolfinum’s café, I crossed the street to go to the decorative arts and crafts museum. 

An exhibition there of the work of Ivan Lutterer (Inconspicuous Connections) served as a more than ample contrast to Probst’s work.  She attempts to make the photograph indecisive, spreading the action over various viewpoints, and times, by using multiple cameras.  In this exhibition it seemed to be all about her.  Lutterer’s work was about the Czech people, and was a collection of his work to document everyday folk, and then the changing times by showing locations then and now.  Most interesting was a film on his restoration of older work, from the 19^th century, and his commentary on method and memory.  I think I liked Luterrer’s efforts better.  They weren’t my memories, but there was a human commonality in them.