Prague's dilapidated cultural heritage

In the fourteen years since the fall of communism Prague has undoubtedly undergone remarkable transformation in the city's infrastructure. Its beautifully restored architecture and rich cultural heritage attracts millions each year and every time I meet a group of tourists I'm always sure to tell them about my golden rule - when you walk along the city's sidewalks don't forget to look up!

Prague's dilapidated cultural heritage

Prague

In fact, every week I discover at least one or two incredible features that I would have missed if I hadn't looked up. Prague's breathtaking architecture is highly decorative with art work that most cities would only display in museums. But with so many buildings now reconstructed and painted in attractive colours, I often fail to notice the diamonds in the rough. Once beautiful but now rundown, dilapidated buildings are still in abundance in the Czech capital. Last week, a friend visiting from abroad brought an old, grey, nondescript at a glance building to my attention. It was on a busy street that I pass at least three times a week and had a bust of Antonin Dvorak on the frontal façade. Since a bust of the famous Czech composer is no rarity in this city, I didn't bother to read the inscription and continued to admire a different building with other busts and sculptures.

Less than a week later, as I flipped through a daily, I came across a photo of the very same Dvorak building. Much to my surprise, it is a very important part of Prague's cultural heritage as Antonin Dvorak actually lived and died in it. Even Petr Ilyich Tchaikovsky, my favourite Russian composer, spent some time in the building during his lifetime.

The article also pointed to the fact that Prague has many 'invisible' cultural heritage sites that residents and tourists alike simply do not notice because they look like condemned buildings or ruins. Sadly enough, while numerous buildings connected to renowned Czechs such as Antonin Dvorak, Czech violinist Jan Kubelik, or writers Bohumil Hrabal and Bozena Nemcova are falling to pieces, nothing can be done about it. The hands of the district councils and conservationists devoted to the protection of the city's cultural treasures are tied - in most cases, the question of ownership is open and restitution disputes drag on for years with the Czech's infamously slow court system. But with every such building left to demise, Czechs loose a small but very precious part of their past and identity.