The Eve of the Clearance: new exhibition showcases photos that helped to save Prague’s Žižkov from being demolished
In the late 1950s, the communist authorities came up with a plan to demolish Prague's district of Žižkov, replacing it with modern, prefabricated housing. Their plans moved slowly, and it was only in the 1970s that they commissioned photographer Pavel Štecha to document the poor conditions in the district. However, his photographs had an unintended effect: rather than justifying destruction, they helped rally preservation efforts. The compelling story is now explored in a new online exhibition by the Institute for Contemporary History of the Czech Academy of Sciences, titled Předvečer Asanace (The Eve of the Clearance). I spoke with its curator, historian Petr Roubal:
When did the plans for the demolition of Žižkov first emerge? Because it wasn’t the Communists who originally came up with the idea, right?
It is very often presented as one of the crimes of Communism against the city, but in fact, the historical roots are much deeper.
“It is very often presented as one of the crimes of Communism against the city, but in fact, the historical roots are much deeper. Similarly to Western Europe and the United States, there was this very strong modernist movement or functionalist movement that saw these inner city quarters as unhygienic, and wanted them replaced by single-standing high-rises surrounded by greenery. Such plans were actually implemented in many Western European cities, but for various reasons, not in Prague.
“So many of these modernist urban planners, who were influenced by le Corbusier's ideas, then became urban planners of Prague under communism. And then in the late 1950s, the communist urban planners and subsequently also the government and the communist party decided that this was a solution for all the inner city quarters of Prague.
“So the original urban plan of the late 1950s and early 1960s for Prague was really very radical, in the sense that all the inner city quarters, basically all the quarters that surround the historical core, were supposed to be demolished.”
What arguments did the communists use for their plans for demolishing not only Žižkov, but as you say, other historic quarters?
“There were basically two ideas. One was that these quarters are not suitable for modern life at all. And they were right — these districts were built as investment opportunities. They were an attempt to make maximum profit from the land acquired by developers and the living conditions in these houses were really secondary, with the density being two or three times above the norms.
“The second reason was that the communists aspired for equality in access to housing and these houses were not suitable for that, because the flat sizes in those quarters varied and so did the living conditions.”
So what plans did they have for transforming the district? As far as I know, originally they hired the SIAL studio, which is perhaps best known for the design of the Ještěd TV transmitter. So can you tell us more about the plan for the redevelopment of the district?
“Basically, these plans for redevelopment of all the inner city quarters date to the early 1960s. The idea was that you simply destroy the old housing and build high rises surrounded by greenery, and that sorts out the problem. But by the time they got to implement these plans, they realized it was not as straightforward as they thought.
“Meanwhile, a criticism of these urban plans emerged internationally — Jane Jacobs is probably the most famous sort of critic of that. But also the local urban planners started to see the effects of the new housing estates. They noticed that people missed the cosiness of the densely packed cities. So they approached the architectural studio SIAL for the redevelopment plans, because they knew that they had alternative approaches to such complex issues.
READ ALSO
“The plans still involved essentially removing all the existing housing there, while trying to preserve the social structure of the quarter. But essentially, not much would be left from Žižkov quarter as such besides the street grid. So it would be really very different from the modernist ideas, but it would still mean destroying the quarter.”
To support their vision, the planners hired a photographer, Pavel Štecha, but it didn't work out the way they planned, did it?
“Exactly. And that's perhaps the most fascinating part of the story. Pavel Štecha, who later became one of the key figures of Czech documentary photography, just finished his studies and this was his first employment offered through some sort of network of friends.
“The point was that SIAL knew that they needed sociological team to cover the relationships of the local inhabitants to the quarter, the living conditions, and so on. And that sociological team then hired Pavel Štecha to produce sociological photography of the district. His job was to cover the exteriors, the streets and the state of the houses, but also the interiors, what was inside the apartments.
“And he got sort of, I would say, trapped by the assignment. He spent a lot of time there producing a substantial amount of highly artistically valued work. And then when the architects saw the photos, they changed their minds about what they are doing.
“So he was first involved in destroying the quarter and then his photos and his understanding of the people’s life there really changed the perspective of the architects, who then were instrumental in building the critique of the whole process.”
When you say he produced a substantial body of work, how many pictures are we talking about?
“I contacted the widow of Pavel Štecha, Alice Štechová, to whom I am terribly grateful for all the help. There were hundreds or perhaps thousands of photos and negatives and it took us several months to go through them.
“However, Pavel Štecha was very particular about what he wanted to display and what he didn't, so not that many of these photos were exhibited. This exhibition is actually the first time that many of these photographs are shown. But of course we also made a selection of the photos that Pavel Štecha at some point considered worthy of being displayed.”
So how many pictures are available as part of your online exhibition?
“We have selected over 70 photos and I use the format of online exhibition to display more photos than I think would fit into a traditional exhibition hall. I think that the format of an online exhibition allows that and it can serve also as a sort of archive.
“Pavel Štecha himself would probably be more selective. But we thought there might be other reasons why people would want to see a particular photo, which repeats a certain motif but taken from a different street or a different angle. It might be relevant for the patriots that might see value in that.”
We should say that the project to demolish Žižkov didn't get very far, and Pavel Štecha played an instrumental role in that. How much of the district was destroyed? And how come the plans were halted in the end?
“In the end, SIAL architectural studio didn't get to redevelop Žižkov. Paradoxically, it was the Heritage Institute that implemented the plan. It wasn’t because the communist planners cared so much about the heritage value of the quarter, but it was sensitive in terms of the view from the Prague Castle. The quarter is actually quite visible from Prague Castle, and they were worried that the traditional panelak housing estate would look strange in that place.
“So the Heritage Institute then tried to design the panel housing blocks in a way that would be more in line with the rest of the quarter, which means that they basically preserved the traditional blocks of houses. In the end, around one third of the quarter was demolished, so the majority of the housing remained.
“However, because of these demolition plans, it was forbidden to invest in the quarter for 20 years. That changed both the social and ethnic structure of the quarter. So it became one of the poorest quarters of Prague with relatively high Roma population.
“By the time they finally got to the demolition of the rest of Žižkov, the atmosphere in the expert circles, but also in the society at large, changed. There was this sort of perception that they were destroying something valuable. That the houses, regardless what sort of living condition they provide, have value in themselves.
“And this shift, which happened in the 1980s, sort of accelerated with the Perestroika, with the fact that you could openly discuss these issues. And it was primarily in the expert community, especially among the young architects, who started to protest against these plans. But these plans still existed, and even though no demolitions took place in 1989, it was only the Velvet Revolution that really put a full stop to it. So it's definitely the political change that saved the quarter.
“Yet, at the same time, it's also the political change that eventually brought about the social redevelopment of the quarter. So that's sort of a bitter victory of those who planned the redevelopment of the quarter that they witnessed the quarter being gradually gentrified after 1989. And the people who they wanted to save were eventually forced out of the quarter, very often outside of Prague altogether.”
What happened to the people from that one third of Žižkov that was demolished?
“Generally, these redevelopment plans did not expect people to return. Someone else got the apartments there. It means they had to provide housing somewhere else and that was of course destroying the social fabric there.
“It's sort of a mixed bag in terms of people's reactions to that because they were actually moving to better apartments. There is no debate about that. Actually, many of the Žižkov apartments did not have their own bathroom and some of them didn't even have toilets. They were heated by coal that had to be carried every day from the basement and so on.
“But it's true that clearly there was a certain level of discontent and sort of even trauma that was associated with these shifts. That's why the sociologists were hired in the first place because there was this knowledge that it might lead to uprootedness and mental issues, especially for the elderly.
Žižkov was a symbol of the state's ambition to transform these inner city quarters into modern housing. It also became a symbol of resistance to these urban plans.
“So they really supported some sort of sociological knowledge about how this can be done in a way that would be more acceptable for the people. And one of their ideas was to move the whole quarter to one particular panel housing estate, so that the people would at least have the same neighbours.”
How did you yourself become involved in this project? Do you have any personal connection to Žižkov? And is there any reason why this exhibition is being presented now?
“I don't have any close ties to Žižkov. It is simply the most symbolic case of all these redevelopment plans. Žižkov was a symbol of the state's ambition to transform these inner city quarters into modern housing. It also became a sort of symbol of corruption of the communist system, and a symbol of resistance to these urban plans.
“I don't think actually there is any other case like that in the whole Czechoslovakia back then. In Prague, the motorway through Stromovka was the other major case, but it was more of an environmental issue. But in terms of urban planning, this is really the sort of the most significant one.”
So far, the texts that accompany the pictures in the online exhibition are only available in Czech. Are you planning to eventually translate them into English?
“Yes, we would definitely like to have an English version and we plan to do that next year. We also plan to have more of these sort of urban-focused online exhibitions. We have several plans already in the making, for instance the exhibition grounds in Prague. So we plan to build sort of a gallery of online exhibitions in the future.”
Related
-
Landmark Prague Stories
The Infant Jesus of Prague, Vyšehrad or the Jewish Quarter are admired by millions of tourists every year.
-
Prague’s Modern Palaces
Prague awes visitors with its historical architecture, but the city also boasts unique modern palaces and constructivist buildings, often with a turbulent fate.
