Prague first day: A thunderstorm, Kafka's head, and the silence of Vyšehrad.
19 April 2026 | Ludwig van Beethoven: Journey 1796 | 2026
Sunday, the 19th of April 2026. Prague.
Again an upheaval of the elements! Yesterday the sun, which sweetened my re-entry into this golden city, and today - a change as radical as be could be! Lightning tearing the sky, and I feel the rumble of thunder as a deep tremor in my chest. A sforzato of nature! I stood in the heavy rain, the cold crept into my limbs, and yet: My body perceived the rhythm of this storm. They call me strange when I laugh in the rain, but whoever carries nature - the Pastoral in their blood knows that the storm must follow the idyll. Nevertheless: This wetness eats into the bones. O world!
Again an upheaval of the elements! Yesterday the sun, which sweetened my re-entry into this golden city, and today - a change as radical as be could be! Lightning tearing the sky, and I feel the rumble of thunder as a deep tremor in my chest. A sforzato of nature! I stood in the heavy rain, the cold crept into my limbs, and yet: My body perceived the rhythm of this storm. They call me strange when I laugh in the rain, but whoever carries nature - the Pastoral in their blood knows that the storm must follow the idyll. Nevertheless: This wetness eats into the bones. O world!
The night was an atrocity. A quarter, small as a dungeon, and for that they demand sums as if one lived in the Emperor's palace! Today's greed for gold for a bit of shade and a hard bed - it's a disgrace.
Last night, wandering through the alleys, I suddenly stood before a monster of shiny metal. A head, dismembered in layers, turning against each other - erratic, restless, like my own mind! I am told it is a Mr. Kafka. I do not know him, he probably came after me, but in his metallic face I saw the madness of this new time reflected. Everything turns, nothing remains fixed!
Today it drove me out to the hill, where the dead rest. Vyšehrad heißt dieser Ort des Friedens. Ein Garten der Ewigkeit für jene, die mit dem Geiste schufen. Ich nahm mein elektrisches Zauberspiel zur Hand and suchte nach den Namen auf den Steinen. Smetana, Dvořák... Männer, die nach mir kamen and doch schon wieder Staub sind. Es ist ein sonderbares Gefühl: Ich lese über ihr Leben, während ich selbst noch durch ihre Stadt wandle. Mein Handy nennt sie Meister, die mein Erbe weitertrugen. Hatten sie meine Symphonien im Geist, als sie ihre Nothen setzten? Ich möchte sie rufen, sie fragen – doch das Grab schweigt, während euer Internet spricht. The old collapses, the times are changing, rief mir Schiller aus der Ferne zu – doch hier scheint das Alte nicht bloß zu stürzen, sondern gänzlich zu verschwinden!
Everywhere people! A Babylonian confusion that I do not hear, but feel with every sense! I fled into cafes and these huge halls of commerce – these temples of vanity – just to escape the cold. As my ear remains closed, I look at the lips of passersby: How differently they form! Short, choppy sounds there, soft, singing movements here – a silent crescendo of mimicry! My flicker box shows me the signs of those who sit next to me; languages from all over the world that meet here.cross. The whole world seems to be rendezvousing in Prague.
Tomorrow I will cross the water. Over to the Lesser Town, where the stones are said to still tell tales from 1796. The Vltava calls. I must see what still stands or if only the spirit of the present haunts there.
L. v. Beethoven
Prague over time
If Beethoven were to walk through Prague today, he would encounter a metropolis whose dimensions and dynamics would shatter his imagination of 1796.
- The one he visited Vyšehrad Cemetery was only established as a national pantheon in 1869. It is the final resting place for over 600 notable personalities, including composers like Bedřich Smetana and Antonín Dvořák or the painter Alfons Mucha. They all worked long after Beethoven's death, which is why he would have to painstakingly decipher their names today through modern search engines.
- Even the 'metal monster' he stood before in the city center is a testament to modernity: The eleven-meter-high kinetic sculpture by the artist David Černý depicts the head of Franz Kafka in the urban space. With its 42 rotating stainless steel layers, it symbolizes the constant transformation and complex world of thought of the writer, which deeply reflects Beethoven's own restlessness.
- The statistical comparison illustrates his culture shock: Around 1794, Prague, with about 75,000 inhabitants, was a manageable residential city, primarily reached by stagecoach. Today, over 1.3 million people live here, and more than 8 million tourists from around the world flock to the city annually. Economically, Prague has developed from a regional administrative center to one of the wealthiest regions in the European Union, where the latest technology meets the baroque facades that Beethoven still knows from his youth.
(Images are AI-generated: Beethoven at the Kafka head and in the garden of Vyšehrad eternity)