Surfing

Isn't it amazing what you find on the Internet when you aren't looking for it?

I'm currently reading Madame Secretary, the memoirs of Madeleine Albright. I decided I wanted to go back to reading women's biographies, but couldn't remember how far I'd gotten, so I started back in the A's. Before Madeleine, I read Alice, Princess Andrew of Greece, an authorised biography of Queen Elizabeth's mother in law.

Madeleine is of course originally from Prague and what she writes about the place and of course all the people she's worked with is wonderfully fascinating. It's an easy read, a real page-turner. It's like having a review of most of the major historical events during my life, things I don't tend to pay much attention to when they are happening, but felt guilty that I didn't. I'm getting a chance to catch up!

Anyhow, she wrote that her husband, Joe, left her for another woman, but at some point seemed undecided. He told her that, having been nominated, if he won the Pulitzer Prize he would stay with her, if not he would leave. It made me wonder if he'd ever won it (apparently not to date) and what he was doing now. He came from a fabulously wealthy family, including the Guggenheims and Katherine Graham, whose autobiography I started but put down at some point when a spot of lighter reading distracted me. I'll definitely go pick it up again now.

Seems he and his wife, Marcia Kunstel, live on a dude ranch in Wyoming, one inherited from another of his wealthy relatives. I Googled her name, as Wikipedia didn't have anything to say about her. This led me to a website that reports political contributions by name, amount, recipient, zipcode, state. If you want to know how much celebrities have contributed, it's there (if they gave permission). Amazingly, Bill Gates and Donald Trump seem to divide their money pretty evenly between the Democrats and the Republicans. It's a fun site to look at -- the numbers are so big!

And while I'm here, I cannot resist showing you


the Municipal Building. Madeleine mentions

having a meeting in there and it reminded me of


this fantastic place. It is a Mucha design and


must be the most beautiful building I've ever been inside. I'm certain I'm not the only one who thinks that.

More from the Prague Museum

Art nouveau furniture has a major appeal to both Bill and me. Sadly, our house is already full of Grandmother's, Mom's and Auntie Mary's furniture, plus a few Wal-Mart/Ikea and second hand shop pieces. Otherwise, I'm sure we'd be in the market for something like this


or this


These are definitely cubist style,


even to my untrained eye.


The incredible beauty of the wood,


the number and variety of desks and bookcases was incredible.




This mirror and table set reminded more of my Grandmother's rather Baroque tastes. I know it's tacky, but I'm still drawn to ornate gold mirror frames, but fortunately, just to the mirror frames.


I didn't much fancy this bookcase, impressive though it was,

but I quite liked the idea of a reading stand.


Taken as I was to all the grown up furniture, I was really drawn to the doll furniture


I can't even imagine the lifestyle of a little girl who had a doll house filled with these ornate pieces!

More Fashion from Prague

I have tons more posts about Prague drafted and just waiting for me to pull in the pictures. Hope you're not burned out on Prague already, because there are at least two places that I promised myself I'd show you.

Apparently you can sometimes buy a photographic license when you visit a museum, that is pay a bit more to have permission to take pictures. Bill pointed this out to me when we went to the Museum of Decorative Arts. This was our first venture out alone; the others we were with -- his sister and her husband and their friends from Canberra -- were on a bus tour of some kind or looking at more churches and castles. I was so pleased he did, as I got really good value for my 80 Koronas (Kc) (about £2.50 or $4.00) -- about 160 pictures.

I knew I would love the place, as one of my very favourite places in London is the Victoria & Albert Museum. Mind, it's not because I'm such an intellectual that dusty old museums enthral me. It's that decorative arts museums are about clothes, needlework, furniture and other household goods; it's about how I might (or probably not) have lived in another time and place. It's a collection of the most beautiful artifacts of a given culture. My first experience of this was probably 20 years ago when I visited the Smithsonian in Washington DC -- or, I should say, some small part of the 19 museums. I best remember the Hope diamond and all the glittering stuff around it and the exhibit of all the First Ladies' Inaugural gowns. [Completely aside, did you realise that Smithson was a Brit who sent his money to the US? Neither did I]. Anyhow, when I spotted this Prague museum in Jane's tourist guide, I knew I wanted to go. Fortunately, Bill likes this sort of stuff as well.

It's impossible to show you all that I loved in this stunning place, though I'm tempted to try! For this post, I'll just stick with the clothing exhibit. From what I recall it was mainly wedding or wedding-associated dresses from the early 1900s through to the early 2000s.


I took pictures of nearly all, but I'm just sharing the ones I especially liked. Actually, I really liked something about most of the dresses: if not the whole thing -- as in, where can I buy one -- then the intricate stitching, the drape or texture of the fabric, or some clever detail. It's also interesting to note when corsetry fell out of common use.














I remember this black dress had a story. It was made with very specific instructions from the woman who wanted it for her wedding.


But in the end, that wedding did not take place.


Maybe he didn't like the idea of a black wedding dress...I wonder if that was her intent?

More Music in Prague

One of the more moving experiences I had in Prague happened when we were trudging up to the hotel one afternoon through a slightly run down street. Jane seemed to notice the music first, being further up the hill. I saw her stop and look around and then I heard it too. I've no idea what classical composer or artist or piece it was, but it was really lovely music and it was being played at a very high volume...from up above.

We finally spotted this little man leaning out of his open window and realised this was his doing.


As the others continued their journey up the road I stopped to take some pictures.


After I took this man's picture, I put the camera down and I waved to him. I thought it was wonderful that he should want to share that beautiful music (though we wondered if his neighbours thought it was that great). Perhaps it was my imagination, but it seemed to me he delayed just a second or two in waving back at me. I was thinking perhaps he needed to shift his weight on his zimmer frame or find a place to prop his cane before he could lift his arm.

We all remarked that the building didn't look very well loved.


It struck me as a rather lonely person who would find pleasure in capturing the attention of the tourists walking past.


I'd like to think that my waving to him lifted his spirits a little. His beautiful music certainly lifted mine.

Music in Prague

One of the main tourist-y things to do in Prague is go to a concert. You are --ahem -- one is inundated with flyer's inviting one to concerts in churches, museums and ...concert halls, even. Most are concerts are classical, but there is the odd jazz offering or something more Czech-ish, by which I think they mean costumes and hand-clapping and probably the option of sampling and buying the local distilled drink, Becherova.

Not everyone in our party of 8 liked the same music, but the classical won out. I suggested we do that on the first night to get it out of the way and if we wanted, we could always do it another time. So we went to this place


to hear some music. (I'm hoping to find the crumpled up programme to scan and include here. I know I have it somewhere...)

The general idea was that we would sit on cushions on the stairs. I was pretty tired from walking (well, walking, stopping to photograph, then running to catch up) all day and I wasn't thrilled about this idea, but thinking the place would be crowded I joined in at the top of the stairs. A few smarter people went down and seated themselves in the chairs near the performers.


After the first 3-4 notes, I didn't think much about where I was sitting.


The acoustics were amazing and I actually recognised much of the music. This is is yet another way, in addition to liking gardening and cooking programmes and thinking policemen aren't old enough to be out of school, that I know I'm officially old. I really do like classical music, along with the Stones, Def Lepard and Christina Aguilera, mind.

I did get a bit distracted when I saw something brown and furry run along what I thought was the corridor behind and sharply turn the corner out of sight. I alerted Jane that there were rats about, but later Bill said I was only seeing the top of some one's head, that wasn't a floor it was a window sill.

There was lots else to look at too, as the building was of course beautiful.


I thought the lead violinist looked a lot like Simon Cowell -- it was probably the hair cut.


The girl was the best part of the act. She flicked her hair a lot and flirted with Simon.


And the music was magic.

When we came out it was dark and all of Wenceslas Square was lit up like Piccadilly Circus.

Portals in Prague

The Municipal Building (more about the interior later)


To think of all the years I never thought much about doorways.


I used them often on a daily basis and never looked at them.


But then, few of them looked anything like these.


Most of the doors in my experience are much of a muchness: plain and practical.


But not so the doors in Prague (or much of Europe for that matter).


The entryway is a first impression that has obviously been much appreciated by architects of old.


On our first touring day in Prague, Jane remarked that she remembered us showing her pictures of doors from someplace else; Paris, she thought.


I can only remember collecting doors in Dublin, which are distinctive in their design.


That was back in the days before digital photography. Her remark prompted me to do the door collection in Prague in a big way.


Looking at these, can you blame me?


Mind, sometimes you have to wait for the Tourists to move to get a decent picture.