Czech Prints - Puppets

I was talking to my son this afternoon via Zoom and we came to the topic of Czech prints of puppets. As those of you who are regular followers of this blog will know, the Czechs are experts in the making of puppets. We had a wonderful puppet maker as a neighbour and I first met my friend, Hannah, when I went to her flat in London to borrow some puppets she had made. Anyway I promised my son I would share with him some of the puppet prints from my collection of Czech graphics.

The print above is by Vojtech Cinybulk (as are the three immediately below). Cinybulk wasn't just an artist of puppets, he was active in puppet theatre, which no doubt accounts for how many puppet prints he produced. 

It is not generally known in the UK that Dr Faustus was widely performed as a puppet show in Europe.

This print is by Lander.

The next two prints are by Mahulka. A regular character in children's theatre is Kaspar, a marionette boy. 

Here he is again, this print is by Grmela

and again by Borek

But this delightful little fellow has evolved from a more raucous immoral character that stems from the same roots as the British Punch. The change was driven by a change in target audience, with many middle class families having their own set of puppets.  

But puppetry in the Czech Republic has never just been for children. From the cautionary tale of Faust, through the devil-beating Kaspar, to the surreal puppets of Svankmajer, Czech puppets have always also appealed to adults. They have always had a subversive element. The Nazis suppressed puppet performances, although brave puppeteers continued to perform in secret. Over 100 puppeteers and puppet writers died under torture or in concentration camps. The Czechs rightly take puppetry very seriously.

Czech Prints - Owls

I am mindful that I have not blogged here for a while. I have been unable to get back to the Czech Republic for a year now because of Covid 19 restrictions, which makes blogging difficult. However I do have an extensive collection (over a 1000 items) of Czech prints, mostly ex libris or PFs, which could stimulate an interesting series of posts - either about the subject matter or about the artist. 

I am going start the series with a post about a subject dear to my heart - owls. When I was nearly three, my family moved house. My father took me exploring the garden, an event that has stayed with me to this day. The previous owner had kept owls in the old stables that sat at the bottom of the garden of our rather normal terraced house and Dad showed me the pellets. The experience is the subject of the poem that gave my newly published poetry collection its title. The poem appears at the bottom of this post. 

Ever since then I have had a love of owls and it seems that the Czechs have too, as owls feature in quite a few prints in the collection. Here are a few of my favourites: 

This is by Hanak, it's just one in a number of owl exlibris by the artist.

This by Plechaty

This by Rajlich

This is by Svolinsky

And this by Bugan. 

You will notice that this ex libris and the one by Hanak are for the same patron. You often find that patrons will commission different artists to create work on their favourite themes. Dr Pribys obviously loved owls. 

In case you are wondering the print at the top of this post is by Palenicek.

Here's the poem. If you are interested in buying the book, it is called Owl Unbound and is published by Indigo Dreams Publishing -  https://www.indigodreams.co.uk/zoe-brooks/4595048690. I have a number of copies to sell (signed if you want), just email me on zoe.brooks@googlemail.com to buy a copy. 

Owl Unbound

First we found the snake
a ball of coiled skin and muscle
in a pickling jar at the base of the hedge.
 
I followed my father up
the outside stair to the stable loft,
on one side the railway signal
without a track,
on the other a brick wall,
pocked as the moon,
that would crumble
like cheese in the rain
under the thud of my ball
and send it flying sideways
escaping me.
 
The tread creaked as my father entered
and I followed into the dim.
I looked around, but saw
only an empty perching post.
The owl had gone with its master.
 
At my father’s instruction
I held out my hands
as if ready to receive bread and wine,
but into my bowl of fingers
he dropped a pellet,
a galaxy of small bones and feathers
cocooned in fur.
 
That night I woke.
The moon shredded by clouds
hung over the stable roof
and an owl called unbound
from the cypress tree.

A Knowledge of Czech History

The other day I was browsing in a local antikvariat (second-hand bookshop) and working my way through a pile of mostly uninspiring old prints. I was about to abandon my hunt (I did not know what I was looking for anyway), when I came across some prints by a local artist, who worked in Ceske Budejovice about 40 years ago. The prints were from a larger series about a dramatic and traumatic period in Czech history – the time of the Hussite rebellions in the 15th century.

The prints were very much of their time (probably 1950s/60s), when the Communists adopted the Hussites as heroic members of the Czech proletariat taking on a German aristocracy, conveniently forgetting that the Hussites were motivated by religion (a.k.a. the opiate of the people). At 50 kc each (under £2) how could I resist? I chose six of the best prints and wandered over to the shop's owner.

I asked about the artist (Karel Stech by the way) and whether the owner had any prints which showed the one-eyed general of the Hussites - Jan Zizka. The owner looked at me with surprise: “You are English?”

I nodded.

“And yet you know about Czech history!” he said in amazement.

I explained that the English were indeed interested in the Hussites (well the historians of the Archaeological Society certainly were), because they like military history and there was the English link with the Lollards.

“Of course, John Wycliff,” he said and nodded.

I walked out of the shop with a package under my arm, feeling slightly guilty. I couldn't quite bring myself to say that most English know nothing about the history of this country, but then I consoled myself that most English don't know who John Wycliff and the Lollards were either.

Czech Art

I have just been enjoying a fascinating post on the blog Adventures in the Print Trade about Czech Graphics of the 1970s. As I indicated in a previous post on Jiri Trnka - a visit to the Museum of Modern and Contemporary Art in the Trade Fair Palace in Prague first opened my eyes to the wealth and creativity of Czech artists that was hidden by the Iron Curtain, and it is good to see Neil of the Print Trade blog making the same discovery.

One of the delights of discovering Czech art and especially its graphics is for me the influence of fairytales - another reason why I am not surprised that it has struck a chord with Neil, who is an authority on the subject. Fairytales seem to have infused Czech life in a way that is very special. So often people coming to my part of the world will comment that Cesky Krumlov is a fairytale place. And whilst visually I can see why people might say this, I think it is something more profound, something deep in the Czech pysche, that is calling.

Czech graphics are distinctive. There is something playlike about them, they have a humour that can be dark (like many a Grimm fairytale) but also are light of touch. My Czech puppeteer friend who first introduced me to this place is also, among her many accomplishments, a wonderful artist. In particular I like her prints. She was always being told when she was living and working in England how unusual her art was. Without in anyway diminishing the standard and originality of her work I now can see that it is rooted in the graphics of her homeland.