By DINAH SPRITZER, The New York Times, April 4, 2010
HUGE hunks of rusting iron and coal dust might not seem like ideal catalysts for a cultural revival. But a former mining town in the Czech Republic that once epitomized Communist-era bleakness is embracing its industrial heritage, with a little help from punk rock, an all-night party street and a “castle” made of steel.
For decades Ostrava’s most famous symbol was a 1,033-foot-high slag heap, a conical pile of coal residue. Nicknamed “black Ostrava” after its mining industry, which went belly up in the early 1990s, the city sought to cast off its grimy reputation by attracting high-tech investment, leaving behind a patchwork of empty factories, mines and warehouses. Now a movement is afoot to revitalize the derelict sites.
“After Communism everyone wanted to build new things and erase the past, like they were ashamed,” said Marta Pilarova, an artist and the singer for two Ostrava-based “crust punk” bands, Disney and Kulma. “But this industry is a part of us — why should we pretend otherwise?”
The centerpiece of Ostrava’s new industrial chic is its “castle” — the former Vitkovice steel and ironworks smack in the city center (Ruska 24/83; 420-5 95-95-25-70; vitkovice.cz), whose soaring towers and subtle Art Nouveau details evoke an industrial version of the famous Prague Castle (hence the slightly ironic nickname). Lower Vitkovice opened for tours in 2007, offering visitors the chance to wander around a stunning maze of pipes, compressors and mysterious metal machines. (The plant will eventually be part of a $52 million science museum, conference center and “educational trail,” scheduled to debut in 2013.)
During a visit last summer, the musician David Byrne was enthralled with the former factory. “The place is awesome in its terrible beauty — similar to the works in Essen I visited a couple of years ago,” he wrote on his blog. “Some of the turbine parts looked like aliens or the statues of Easter Island.”
Two former mines are also taking on new incarnations as sites for exhibitions and concerts, often with industrial themes. Hlubina, part of the Vitkovice complex, opens for tours in May and will host electro-punk dance parties and art “happenings.” And on the outskirts of town, Michal Mine (Ceskoslovenske Armády 95/413; 420-5-96-23-11-60; dulmichal.cz) offers jazz concerts and art installations, as well as “day in the life of a miner” tours of equipment and living quarters.
But it’s the night-life scene a 10-minute tram ride away from Lower Vitkovice, on Stodolni Street (stodolni.cz), where dozens of bars and restaurants have emerged from a derelict strip of 19th-century warehouses, that has become the town’s biggest tourist draw.
At Dublin Pub (Stodolni 9; no phone; stodolni.cz/klub/dublin/), you can join the eye-shadow-and-oxford-shirt set dancing on tables to Euro-pop remixes. The two-year-old Kralovstvi Pecivalu, or the Lazy Man’s Kingdom (Stodolni 4; 420-5-96-12-22-62; upecivalu.cz), has a more dungeonlike feel, enhanced by patrons with multiple piercings and a D.J. spinning speed metal.
Despite revitalization, Ostrava’s potential to go upmarket may be limited. Many residents say swank is not for them.
“This is still a worker’s city, where you spend your cash at the bar on Friday right after you get paid,” said Jason Fitzgerald, an Irish expatriate who owns several Stodolni pubs. “If it gets too fancy, Ostrava will lose its magic.”
http://travel.nytimes.com/2010/04/04/travel/04surfacing.html?emc=eta1
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment