The fragrance of cinnamon rolls cocoons the medieval town in an afternoon haze. The 500 days of summer have glided by and the wicked winter is yet to roll in… feels like a reverie, or lull before the blizzard. That brief moment where the verve of warm summer months are over and gone but the merciless European winter is yet to sting.
Could be the fog sprawled over its landscape, could be the air of secrecy that surrounds the cobble stoned streets- it makes you wonder if this was that town? The abode where expressionist art genius Egon Schiele and his beloved Wally sought refuge from the the neurosis of a decadent Vienna in 1911? Egon Schiele was 21 and Walburga (Wally) Neuzil, the former model and mistress of another maestro Gustav Klimt, just 17. Schiele and Wally were looking for a place-uninhibited, pastoral and far from the stifling Vienna. So they arrived at Krumau, a town at the junction of the Slavonic and German world. It was a crucial trade route of the Kingdom of Bohemia at the horseshoe bend of the River Vltava. Schiele’s mother was born and lived here in Parkán no.111, a neo-classical building in Krumau.
The artist couple carried with them the nonchalant, lucid spirit of “Bohemia”, but this town, this very tiny town, dotted with red tiled roofs was rather flabbergasted with the mavericks basking in the wild, esoteric gonzo and erotic liberty. Folks of Krumau was so repulsed that they shunned the couple. The isolation and unease stemming from a life surrounded by an ill-disposed and hostile community gave birth to the Dead City series of paintings. The decaying urban panorama, crumbled splendor of Krumau, empty of people, a pervasive atmosphere of oppression.
The word ‘Bohemian’ was originally a derogatory name given to the Roma gypsies, who, the French believed to have originated in Bohemia, in Central Europe. The paradox of an artist labelled ‘Bohemian’, avant-garde, rebellious and amoral, banished from this puny settlement in Bohemia itself is perverse.
Schiele’s stature was redeemed only after the fall of the Iron Curtain between the Eastern and Western Europe with the foundation of The Egon Schiele Art Centrum in 1992, 74 years after his death by Spanish Flu at the age of 28.
Now, the lavender bushes silently snuggle the atelier at Linecká 343, Egon Schiele’s studio, a shrine for art lovers. The town is now known as Český Krumlov. The word Krumlov is derived from the German “Krumme Aue” or, “crooked meadow” speaking of the the bend of the Vltava. where it sits. Till the Velvet Revolution in 1989, Český Krumlov, under the grip of the Soviet regime was, in fact, how Schiele had painted it- a dark, overcast city forlorn and cramped with despair and void. The town underwent massive restoration after the country became Czech Republic. The political fatigue receded and became a UNESCO World Heritage site along with Prague in 1992. Due to its close proximity from Vienna (209 km) and from Prague (180 km), in the summer months, Český lures many tourists around the world. The core of the town in hemmed in to the horseshoe bend of Vltava. Germans call it Moldau. This is the same river that has nourished glorious cities like Prague and České Budějovice. (the birthplace of the acclaimed Budweiser beer).
The medieval castle fortified sits on top of an elevationand dates back to 1240 when it was first built by the Vítkovci family. It was rebuilt in Renaissance style in the 16th century by the Rosenberg family of the Bohemian aristocracy. Just before Easter on 3rd April 1602, after 300 hundred years of prosperous reign, the Rosenberg family, who nurtured the confluence of the Czech, Austrian, Bavarian, northern Italian people and cultural influences, left discreetly without a celebration as the childless Peter Wok Von Rosenberg sold the castle to Rudolf II.
The Emperor Rudolf II of the House of Habsburg bought the Český Krumlov area and the gave the throne to his illegitimate son Don Julius d´Austria living in Vienna. Julius suffering from severe schizophrenia became obsessed with a barber’s daughter Markéta and killed her brutally in a fit of anger. The criticism from the European aristocratic societies made Rudolf II condemn his son, Don Julius and he was sentenced to life in jail till his gruesome death. Rudolf II then donated the Český Krumlov castle to the Eggenberg family. Under the Eggenberg rule the Castle Baroque Theatre was built and the Castle Gardens were renovated. After the last successors of the Eggenbergs died in 1719, the town along with the castle became property of the Schwarzenbergs and they kindled Baroque and Rococo renovations and alterations styles. Josef Adam zu Schwarzenberg reconstructed the castle theater with new machinery and decorations with the help of Viennese Artisans. In the 20th century after the first world war it became the property of the state. During World War II the town escaped the major battles or bombings upholding the historic and architectural grandeur. The steep impenetrable castle is encircled by a moat, not filled with water but inhabited by bears. Arguably, the Rosenbergs were related to the majestic Italian family of Orsini. “Orsa” means she-bear in Italian. Thus the bear became a symbol of the Rosenberg rule referring to their blood-link with ancient Rome. At present, bear-tender Jan Černý supervises four bears kept in the moat — Vok and Kateřina, and their two cubs Daxi and Hubert.
The castle boasts Český Krumlov Baroque Theatre, one of the best preserved baroque theaters of the world. Thrice a year it hosts the bravado of Baroque opera in the gleam of the simulated candlelight, the enchantment and the crest of European art. An eerie saga about this theater is still whispered. A beautiful young actress Evelyna fell in love with the leading hero David from a visiting theater group. As their intimacy turned bitter she stabbed herself in the chest and died on the stage during the last act of a play. The blood stained the wooden floors of the stage for years evoking the catastrophic amour.
During the sunny months of Summer the castle and the town rumbles with euphoric trippers… Newly married couples in Church of St. Vitus showered in petals, old wise man playing Country valčík (Country waltz) on his accordion on Lazebnický bridge, hats-sunscreen-guide flags flashing in the labyrinth of the castle garden… The Vltava river, woken by boats cruising by, echoes of ‘Ahoy’ fluttering over water. The delicate green foliage under water lean towards the river banks where the children play, mothers read books lying on the velvet grass drinking vinný střik (wine spitzer), fathers glistening with sweat and joy slap veverka (flank steak) on the barbecue flame, crying ‘Na Zdravi!’ (to your health) with cold Budějovický Budvar (Budweisers). The melted ice cream plopped on the cobblestone streets of the unity square paints as if happy patterns of pleasure and abundance.
But then, winter comes and transforms the town. The fishes die and are found framed by the body of frozen Moldau, sharp wind tears up the skin, the leafless guardian trees of South Bohemian forest, flickering lanterns of the Christmas market forms a mystique halo on the town. The aroma of mulled wine and Christmas cookies waft and resemble the warmth of shelter, belonging and nostalgia. A town of fairy and witches, a fabled hamlet of amour and magic. A vivacious meal cooked at the open grill pit flames at the stone walled, wood carved, Krčma Šatlava, true ‘tavern’ and a glass of horké pivo or hot beer with ginger and cinnamon nudges at the antique legends. The ghost of the white lady who has been haunting the castle might show up in those lucid dreams. Story goes, Perchta von Rosenberg the gorgeous daughter of Ulrich II. Von Rosenberg was married off against her will to Jan von Lichtenstein and left her father’s castle at Český Krumlov. After years of dreadful physical and emotional abuse when the husband passed away, she was able to return. Her melancholic fragile face, her faint smile behind a mysterious white veil and her relentless charity left a permanent footprint in the minds of the town. In 1476 she died at the age of 49. The impoverished people of South Bohemia mourned her untimely demise for months. She crept in their dreams, musings and lore… The image of the white Lady garbed in white with keys around her waist looking after the needy, the sick, the children of Southern Bohemian forest, roaming through the dark corridors and chambers of Český Krumlov Castle lingers still. Her dim smile has become a symbol of benevolence. The sorrow on her face and the black gloves in her hand, omens of looming death and disaster. Strolling through the amber geometric patterns of old world street lamps in the narrow lanes, the murky corners of decaying walls, the obscure shadow of a peach tree or the company of a delirious pianist…the rawness of this town is illusive… a figment of Milan Kundera’s sphere. Haunted, endeared and mythical…a burg of laughter and forgetting.
Written by Torsha Banerjee, for Trot
A filmmaker, artist and a poet, Torsha calls roads, her muse. Be it with her lens, brushes or pen, she aspires to reach the souls of the places that she meets. Among numerous other honors, her documentary “Tender is the Sight” won the National Award as the best Non-feature Film in 2015.
Originally published at https://www.trotapp.com on August 20, 2020.
