“We don’t take ourselves too seriously,” said David. “Brno’s not visually pleasing at first sight, but once you get to know it, you appreciate it more. You have to work for it, though.”
He meant this literally; Brno is at its most beautiful below ground. At the Ossuary at St James, I weaved through corridors lined by the bones of cholera and plague victims, a sort of memento mori mosaic. In the cathedral-esque, 19th-century water tanks under Žlutý kopec, the mood was spiritual – I was so moved by the distant, almost ecclesiastic hum of a tour guide’s voice that my heart momentarily stopped.
Here’s another secret: stand very still on any street corner, and you might hear the flutter of a flute from one of the city’s many conservatoires. Brno is home to a staggering 14 theatres, of which Brno’s National Theatre manages three: the Reduta, the Mahen and the Janáček.
Of those three, the Reduta was the only one I hadn’t visited. Built in the 17th century, it’s one of Europe’s oldest theatres, but inside, it’s been made new, with sophisticated lighting racks catching every mascara-ed eyelash and porcelain cheekbone in immaculate detail. That night, I watched the Ballet NdB 2, Brno’s junior ballet company, perform a trio of new Czech productions. With no one else’s enjoyment to worry about, I luxuriated in the spectacle of the young dancers, who leapt and flexed with the vitality of those newly unleashed on the world.
Less supple – though equally entertaining – was the robot barista at the Museum of Applied Arts, which created latte art of my face from a supplied selfie.
Source link : https://www.telegraph.co.uk/travel/destinations/europe/czech-republic/returned-city-where-had-brutal-breakup-had-surprisingly-good/
Author :
Publish date : 2023-03-24 03:00:00
Copyright for syndicated content belongs to the linked Source.