The Old Orangery & the Royal Theatre
Why is it significant?
Follow the long, low facade with its tall windows until you reach the middle, and imagine the glass full of green leaves and bitter oranges in winter. This is the Old Orangery of Łazienki, built in the late 1780s by the king's architect Dominik Merlini, and it hides a jewel inside.
Key Facts
| Place | The Old Orangery & the Royal Theatre |
|---|---|
| Address | Łazienki Królewskie, ul. Agrykola 1, 00-460 Warszawa, Poland |
| Geo Coordinates | 52.21660, 21.03040 |
| Part of Walk | Warsaw's Green Royal Route: Aleje Ujazdowskie to Łazienki Park, Chopin and the Palace on the Isle |
| Generated | Generated |
Follow the long, low facade with its tall windows until you reach the middle, and imagine the glass full of green leaves and bitter oranges in winter. This is the Old Orangery of Łazienki, built in the late 1780s by the king's architect Dominik Merlini, and it hides a jewel inside.
The orangery was practical: in the Polish winter the king's citrus trees, palms and exotic shrubs had to be wheeled indoors to survive, and in spring they were rolled out again along the paths. The tradition has never quite died: on warm days you can still see big tubs of plants standing outside, waiting for the frost to pass.
But the eastern wing holds the Royal Theatre, one of the very few court theatres of the eighteenth century in Europe that still exists. It is small, intimate, all gold and painted wood, and the boxes are filled with painted spectators: elegant ladies and gentlemen in powdered wigs, created by the painter Jan Bogumił Plersch so that even an empty house would look full and fashionable. The king liked to see an audience, even an imaginary one.
There is something touching about it. Stanisław August Poniatowski, the last king of Poland, was a patron of the arts in a country that was being swallowed by its neighbours. While empires redrew his borders, he built theatres, collected paintings and held literary dinners. Some called it frivolous... others say that is exactly how a culture survives when a state does not.
The other wing has long served as a gallery of sculpture casts, gods and heroes in white plaster, which the king used to teach young artists. When you come out, watch the lawns in front: peacocks wander here freely, and the males sometimes fan their tails without any warning. Now walk a short way south-east, towards the water, to a small square house painted white.