IN PHOTOS: The Prague Vacation (BONUS)
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(pictured – Matahari)
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(pictured – Jolly Joker)
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(pictured – Magna Hotel)
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MATAHARI – Praha je láska i svině
Matahari | MySpace Music Videos
OUT TO SEE: PART III: The Prague Vacation (Part III of III)
This is part three of a three part series about Notes from Vivace’s quest to locate the local music scene in Prague.
Part One can be found here
Part Two can be found here
Chinese Man/Church of Lady before Tyn
Dedicated to the woman on crutches who moved slightly to the side and encouraged me to take some photos for all of you
I decided to go explore a bit further away from the safety of the general tourist area one night and headed off to Palác Akropolis, which I’m assuming means Palace of the Akropolis. It is located in the Žižkov district, which I was later to read is considered the wrong side of the tracks. I think wrong side of the tracks is a relative term when comparing European cities to American cities. I felt rather safe, although I could tell I was entering a poorer section of the city. There is also the (in)famous Žižkov Television Tower that was built during the Communist era. I read that it is surely zapping the residents to death.
I got to Palác Akropolis just in time to catch about half of Chinese Man. Yes, another band that finished everything up by 10:30 p.m. Chinese Man (pictured right) aren’t Chinese, they’re two French guys on turn tables. The place was packed. I couldn’t help but feel like I was at Metal Skool (old school name, new name Steel Panther), the only difference being that it wasn’t midnight yet at the Key Club. In fact, Palác Akropolis looks like a scaled down version of the Key Club. As their set ended, I could have sworn that I heard one of the guys yell out in English, “Thanks for welcoming us back!” And then I know for a fact that they said, “Thank you, everyone.” And yes, there was an encore or two. Now the night ended there for me, but not for the Akropolis. After the band, the place turned into a dance club so 10:30 p.m. wasn’t the end of the night at the Akropolis.
I wanted to check out a classical concert at the National House, which is an impressive building from the outside, but the only tickets available were front row seats for 500 Kč /$25 tickets so I passed. There was one major reason I didn’t buy a ticket for the National House: I didn’t want to be the only person in the good seats not wearing a suit. So . . . I opted to buy a ticket to catch Rejcha’s Requiem at the Church of our Lady before Tyn. Now who is this Reicha? He was a Czech born (Prague) naturalized French composer who was a friend of Beethoven’s (stolen from Wikipedia).
Now for this classical concert folks were actually dressed in a more relaxed fashion versus at Dvorak Hall. Perhaps it helped that it was a late afternoon concert. Instead of wearing dress jackets, men were in sweaters. There were even a few more jeans to be seen – though still in the minority. Even the ensemble didn’t have a uniform. Nearly all (less one, I’m sure he was made fun of) were in either black or dark grey dress, obviously their own clothing. I couldn’t help but think that perhaps I was at a less prestigious Prague Spring event. It didn’t matter, I enjoyed the concert even though I found myself trapped in my Duke-Carolina fear (a reference to part II of this Prague column), stuck sitting behind a church pillar. Behind me, I overheard a woman who had graduated from UCSB and was now attending Purdue University talking in awe of the musical instruments – I’m assuming she was an art/music major. Around the church were fourteen paintings that depicted the death of Christ from Pontius Pilate to the burial. I later located these same paintings at another church, making them hardly unique – once again bringing back the feeling that I was being presented with the Disneyland version of Prague and the surrounding areas.
Bits and pieces. Wait, did someone’s phone just go off? A photographer had his camera stuffed inside a cushion, I’m assuming to keep the noise from echoing off the church walls. A guy in the brass section seemed overly relaxed, playing his instrument effortlessly. During the encore – of course, an encore – an older gentleman decided to stand right in front of me. And then after the set, I noticed someone in shorts!!! After the concert, folks started moving towards the front of the church. It caused a bit of a log jam as many were trying to exit the church. I waited a bit and then went to the front of the church, as well. Those of us doing so were a bit curious about what we’d missed from sitting behind the church’s pillars.
Over-heard Comments and Some Additional Randomness
Dedicated to the little girl in the pink shoes who pointed to the ground at my precious map that I’d dropped in the tram.
I read that Czechs are quiet people and that if you’re a tourist, you should keep the volume down less you become a target for pickpockets. That is great advice for someone who is white, but what about us non-Caucasian people? It didn’t take long to figure out that I stood out no matter what.
“Get used to it.”
“And he’s just a cab driver.”
“They’re at that age, they’re teenagers.”
“I looked pregnant in that.”
I noticed an Asian tourist with two high end cameras strapped around his shoulders. Seriously?
My biggest waste of effort was my attempt to find Golden Lane 22. One of my friends wanted me to check out Franz Kafka’s house. Well, I asked around and kept on getting directed to Old Town Square. I looked around the Square, but couldn’t find Golden Lane 22. There is a monument and a book store dedicated to Kafka in the area, but I saw no Golden Lane 22. I finally found a website that told me that Golden Lane 22 was at the Prague Castle. I found that interesting since I hadn’t noticed it on my tour of the Prague Castle. I decided that I should give it one more attempt to find this Golden Lane 22 should my friend inquire about my vacation. I went to the Prague Castle and was told that the area was under reconstruction. (more…)
OUT TO SEE: PART II: The Prague Vacation (Part II of III)
This is part two of a three part series (each part will be published on a weekly basis) about Notes from Vivace’s quest to locate the local music scene in Prague.
Part One can be found here
Classical Music at Dvorak Hall
This is dedicated to the guy wearing the t-shirt and jeans, making me NOT the worst dressed person in the Hall.
In my Internet search of the Prague music scene, I came across a month long event called Prague Spring (held between May 12th and Jun 4th). So on my second day in Prague, it was off to Dvorak Hall to catch the Baborak Ensemble play some Georg Phillip Telemann, Joseph Haydn, and Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. When buying the ticket (approximately $15), I asked the lady at the counter if I’d be let in wearing jeans. I’d read in a tourist book that the Czech are formal people and I could just imagine that the concert hall would be filled with folks wearing suits. I was told I’d be fine, but it would be wise to wear a button shirt and jacket.
As I walked up towards the doors that led towards my balcony seats, I could have sworn the two female staff members at the doors were saying:
Staff Member #1, laughing: “Look at that guy in the jeans and jacket.”
Staff Member #2, laughing back: “Yes, so under dressed for our event. How uncouth of him.”
Staff Member #1: “He is most definitely a rude American.”
The audience here was no more diverse than at Futurum. Only about 1 percent of the crowd was non-Caucasian. Opposite of Futurum, as might be expected, the crowd was much older with a mean age of around 65 – lowered from 70 by the fact that some grandparents were forcing their grandchildren to experience some culture. And as I suspected, they were mainly well dressed. I was wearing a button down shirt, as advised, which at least put me outside of the 0.1% crowd that was dressed even less formally – a single guy who was in jeans and a t-shirt. He should have known better. I saw him with a sweater that said: 07 Vienna Music Festival. I can only imagine that the Austrians are far more formal than the Czechs. There were perhaps five of us wearing jeans. There was one guy wearing jeans who appeared to be in his 50s. I’ll do the $2 bet that he was a fellow tourist.
Even though 99% of the audience was dressed in a suit and tie, I did start to notice the formalities breaking down just a notch. There was the twenty-something with the tattoo at the nape of her neck. I also noticed a lone guy in his twenties sitting on a bench above/behind the ensemble. He was in a suit and tie. And yet (for practically everyone to see since he was behind the ensemble with the rest of us looking at him) he was well relaxed, legs up on the bench. He was wearing red socks. His arms were folded as he leaned up against the wall. Okay, these last two examples of twenty-somethings reduced the average age from 65 to 64.8.
I like classical music, but I’m not a regular visitor to the various classical venues of Los Angeles. Here are some observations I made while at the Dvorak Hall that may or may not be the same in Los Angeles. The seats were about four inches too narrow. After playing Telemann, the whole ensemble left the stage and came back to great fanfare. We hadn’t even hit intermission and the ensemble was taking a break. There was a whole lot of clapping going on after each piece finished. I’m not sure the same can be said while at the Hollywood Bowl. In fact, there was so much clapping going on I couldn’t help but wonder why they just didn’t give the ensemble a standing ovation at the end of each selection. For Haydn, the French Hornist was cheered wildly and given the chance to perform an encore. There was then a set redesign. Then for the final selection, a Mozart piece, the conductor asked for another redesign – was there some miscommunication regarding where the horn section should be seated because there had just been a redesign? After Mozart the crowds cheered again, but there was still no standing ovation. A large bouquet of flowers was brought on stage. Three brief encores were performed. The conductor then walked around the stage, thanking each member of the ensemble and kissing each of the women. And then finally, there was the standing ovation.
The cheap seats at the Dvorak Hall were $5. And how bad was the view from the $5 seats? If you purchased the $5 seats, you were stuck looking at a pillar over the course of the night. I wasn’t willing to go that cheap. I remember going to a Duke-Carolina game, which was so packed that I could only see ¾ of the court. I shy away from these types of seats due to the traumatizing experience of only getting to watch ¾ of a Duke-Carolina game.-
After the concert, it was off once again in search of the Prague rock music night life. (more…)
OUT TO SEE: PART I: The Prague Vacation (Part I of III)
This is part one of a three part series (each part will be published on a weekly basis).
Inspiration
“I can’t think of anything that excites a greater sense of childlike wonder than to be in a country where you are ignorant of almost everything. Suddenly you are five years old again . . . Your whole existence becomes a series of interesting guesses.” — “Neither Here Nor There” by Bill Bryson
Vacation
Dedicated to the Green Line
I’ve hinted that a vacation-centric column was coming your way and now here it is: The Prague Vacation.
I wanted to go to Prague for quite some time. I hate to bring up bad memories, but I was supposed to head off to Prague on September 12, 2001. That vacation never happened. After detouring to places like Japan, Hawaii, and Vancouver–I finally found myself booking my Prague vacation.
My adventure started at 10:15 a.m. I walked out of my apartment and headed to catch Bus 90 to Downtown Los Angeles. I jumped off along Hill Street and proceeded down into a metro tunnel to catch the Red Line and then from there the Blue Line. While going past the Staples Center, I couldn’t help but notice that the car I was in was dedicated to the city of Pasadena. Now why would a Blue Line car be dedicated to Pasadena? Shouldn’t a Gold Line car be dedicated to Pasadena instead? Throughout my time on the Blue Line, food vendors walked up and down the aisle selling candy, which resulted in another thought to cross my mind, Why sell food in a metro line that has a $250 fine/48 hour public service penalty for eating on the line?
The train came to a full stop just a short distance from the Green Line connection. The conductor kept on saying that we were stuck due to a disabled train ahead of us and that in three minutes we would be moving again. It sure didn’t feel like three minutes. Bored, I listened in on a conversation between a couple of young men. One bragged that he never paid for the metro. “What happens when the sheriffs are out checking for tickets?” he was asked. “I tell them I tossed it in the trash can and that I’ll go get it – and then I run.” “Don’t they chase after you?” “Yes, but I can outrun their fat asses.”
I arrived at the Green Line connection just in time to see a Green Line train moving away from the station. This meant I was stuck for five minutes waiting for the next one. After getting onto the next train, a trio of girls got on at the next stop and sat behind me. One had an iPod and decided to see if I wanted to listen in on her hip hop music. I declined. They then asked me about my knowledge of various hip-hop groups. I had to beg my ignorance. They asked me about my favorite radio station. I told them I tended to listen to KROQ. “What’s KROQ?” “106.7 FM, KROQ.” “Never heard of it.” I decided to pull out my camera and show them a few pictures of the local bands I follow. Initially, they were worried, “You’re not planning on taking a photo of us, are you?” “No, I’m just showing you what types of bands I follow.” They were only semi-interested. With me so ignorant of their hip hop music, they decided to broaden the conversation to a better known musician, “Have you at least heard of Michael Jackson?” “Of course.” Then one asked, “Did you go to the funeral at the Staples Center?” “No,” I responded. “I did.” “Really, you got a ticket.” “No, I stood outside the Staples Center to show my respect.” One of the girls then mentioned to her friends, “I didn’t even get to watch the funeral.” “You didn’t!?!” “Don’t you remember I was in jail?” I half wanted to ask her why she had been in jail, but couldn’t find the courage to do so – and, well, maybe it would have been an inappropriate question. A bit further from the four of us, I could hear a young woman complaining to her friend in a way too loud voice, “I have a child and my boyfriend won’t even get a job!!!” At the Aviation/LAX stop, I said my goodbyes, and then as I was going down the steps, I saw the G Shuttle leaving for LAX. A 20 minute wait was upon me — all this waiting driven by that stupid disabled train on the Blue Line. As I stood around waiting for a shuttle, I couldn’t help but notice that two G Shuttles were just parked off in the distance, drivers potentially taking their lunch break. A couple (perhaps siblings) started to verbalize what I was thinking, “What are those drivers doing?”
Finally, a G Shuttle came by (not one of the two parked shuttles) and took us on a roller coaster-type ride to the airport. Once at the airport, my life got smoother. The Delta check-in was quick. TSA was super quick with no wait whatsoever, a real difference from my previous vacation to Vancouver. I figured this was not a typical experience going through the TSA line, but then it off-set my metro experience. I then spent the next 17 hours either sitting in an airport or on a jet. On my flight to Minneapolis, I took out my Roaring Spring notebook and spent most of the flight writing my Silverlake Jubilee two-part column (Part 1 here, Part 2 here. Towards the end of the flight, a guy across the aisle from me asked if I was a writer. (more…)