National Theatre & Café Slavia: The Stage and the Stalls
Why is it significant?
Stand on the corner by the river, with the golden-crowned roof of the National Theatre on one side and the big windows of Café Slavia on the other. Across the water, the Castle sits on its hill like a stage set. You could not design a better view if you tried.
Key Facts
| Place | National Theatre & Café Slavia: The Stage and the Stalls |
|---|---|
| Address | Národní 2, 110 00 Praha 1, Czechia |
| Geo Coordinates | 50.08120, 14.41380 |
| Part of Walk | Wenceslas Square to the Dancing House: Prague's Century of Revolutions, 1918–1989 |
| Generated | Generated |
Stand on the corner by the river, with the golden-crowned roof of the National Theatre on one side and the big windows of Café Slavia on the other. Across the water, the Castle sits on its hill like a stage set. You could not design a better view if you tried.
Above the theatre's stage arch are the words Národ sobě, the nation to itself. They are a statement of accounts. The theatre was paid for largely by public collections, by ordinary people in the Czech lands who gave what they could. It opened in June 1881... and that August, before it was even finished, it burned down. The response was a second collection. Within weeks the money was raised again, and the rebuilt theatre opened in 1883.
Theatre in this country has always been politics by other means. In January 1977, the regime gathered actors and singers here to sign a declaration against Charter 77, the human rights manifesto co-written by a playwright called Václav Havel. Many signed out of fear, and some never forgave themselves. Twelve years later, in November 1989, the theatres of Prague went on strike, cancelled their performances and opened their stages to public debates instead.
And across the street, at Café Slavia, open since 1884, the audience has been watching for well over a century. Composers and poets sat here, among them the Nobel laureate Jaroslav Seifert. Under Communism, Havel and his friends met at these tables, knowing perfectly well that the man reading a newspaper two tables away was probably reporting on them. On the wall hangs Viktor Oliva's painting The Absinthe Drinker, a man and a pale green ghost of a woman, the café's eternal regular.
Now walk south along the embankment, with the river on your right and the island of Slovanský ostrov just offshore. Look for a crisp white building of the 1920s standing beside an old water tower with an onion dome.