After an uneventful night at the first hotel, we piled back into the bus and moved on. First stop of the day:
Lace
Visiting the lace factory in Drnovice was like visiting Willy Wonka's chocolate factory.
We were not allowed to bring cameras inside, as the owner does not want pictures of the machines going public. Our guide kept us outside the door for a long time - it might have been twenty minutes - telling us about the history of the factory (and building our anticipation) before we were allowed through the front doors.
No one goes in; no one comes out - but they still produce lace by the meter…
The first lace-making machines were apparently invented in England. This gave England a monopoly on machine-made lace, which they held onto by forbidding anyone to take the machines out of the country. They even managed to enforce this for a while. Eventually, though, a group of Czech workers took a machine apart, hid the pieces in baskets of grain and vegetables, strapped the drive shaft (too long to hide in a basket) under the keel of their boat, and smuggled the whole thing back home. The Czech Republic (or what would eventually become the Czech Republic) has been making machine lace ever since.
The factory's fabled and secret lace-making machines were fascinating to watch. They use bobbins, but these are spring-loaded industrial spools of metal and plastic, not the little wooden spindles we've been using. Threading them is a complex, multi-step process that uses a little wire tool like a triple crochet hook. The guide did it in about five seconds; he then let us try, which took about two minutes. Of the few actual humans who work in the factory, one or two are there to keep the machines running smoothly, while the rest just reload the empty bobbins.
On a machine, the bobbins are arranged on metal discs that twist them around each other in whatever pattern is necessary to make the lace. The patterns come from loops of punched cards that are fed through the back of the machine, like a Jacquard loom. (There are apparently people whose entire job is to take lace designs and translate the complex twists and crosses into patterns of punched holes. I'd love to know how they do it.) From the bobbins, the threads go up to a central pole; this is where the lace is finished, wrapped around the pole like an intricate sleeve. A ring of metal claws goes in and out to keep each twist in place. Narrow lace designs (there were some less than half an inch wide) are usually woven with several copies at once on the same machine, wrapped around the pole and joined by a single colored thread that can be pulled out to separate them later. Wider designs require the bigger machines. The maximum width, according to our guide, is about six inches.
There was a planter full of lace flowers outside the front door. Someone asked if they grow the lace there. The guide said yes, but it only grows a few centimeters a year.
The factory is apparently only allowed to sell lace in lengths of three meters or more; anything shorter, they simply throw away. At the end of the tour, the guide showed our group a box of these cast-off ends ("three meters or less" can actually be quite long) and told us we were free to take what we wanted.
A hundred gorgeous lace patterns, in large amounts, free, for a group of college students majoring in things like textiles and fashion design...
The resulting scene resembled a school of piranhas in a feeding frenzy.
The guide watched us with an amused smile for a while, then went and got an entire plastic bag full of more discarded lace and told us we could bring it back with us. It must have weighed twenty pounds. That is a lot of lace.
Predictably, there was a second lace frenzy when we returned to the Institute and opened the bag.
Predictably, there was a second lace frenzy when we returned to the Institute and opened the bag.
...
Gobelins
The Gobelins (tapestry) workshop in Valašské Meziříčí is an interesting combination of factory and museum. It also has a stork nesting on the chimney.
The first few rooms we visited were devoted to the creation of new tapestries and carpets, many of them based on photographs or paintings. Many of these are designed by the owner of the workshop.
The first few rooms we visited were devoted to the creation of new tapestries and carpets, many of them based on photographs or paintings. Many of these are designed by the owner of the workshop.
The women work with highly trained speed, their fingers twisting and tying and beating the fibers down almost too quickly to follow.
Further in, we visited the rooms where they restore ancient tapestries. Like all the rooms in the building, these are tall, dominated by long tables and curtained windows that let in soft, indirect light.
Rolls and skeins of thread in muted shades are heaped across the tables - a weaver's palette of colors - ready for the women to work them into the worn and mouse-eaten patches of ancient tapestries. The process takes years.
They showed us some that were finished, or nearly finished, restored to their former glory with not a seam showing.
Rolls and skeins of thread in muted shades are heaped across the tables - a weaver's palette of colors - ready for the women to work them into the worn and mouse-eaten patches of ancient tapestries. The process takes years.
They showed us some that were finished, or nearly finished, restored to their former glory with not a seam showing.
The final section was a collection of tapestries, both old and new, hung in the tall, narrow hallways between the miscellaneous rooms of the building - restrooms, nurseries, a small cafeteria.
Some of the tapestries were based on paintings; others were of geometrical designs, woven by hand with machinelike precision.
Some of the tapestries were based on paintings; others were of geometrical designs, woven by hand with machinelike precision.
In the last room, a sunlit cafeteria with old wooden furniture and ceiling beams, one of our group stopped to play the piano for a while. He said he was out of practice from two weeks away from home, but the pieces he played were beautiful anyway. In the sunlit room, surrounded by old furniture and tapestries and the smell of coffee, the music was the perfect final touch.
I could have stayed there in that moment all day.
I could have stayed there in that moment all day.
...
Interspar
We either missed or didn't have a scheduled lunch destination, so we simply stopped at this building in the middle of I don't know where. (I looked at the map later and found out it was in Prostějov.) It appeared to be some kind of shopping mall. It had the largest revolving door I've ever seen.
There were actually little shelves set up inside it, which revolved with the door.
Just inside the door was a place that looked like the missing link between food kiosks and restaurants. We stopped there for lunch. I got a ciabatta and a "měšec marcipanovy." (Google translates this as "marzipan bag.") It was surprisingly sweet and dense - like chewy, sugary clay. Not like anything I've eaten before, but delicious.
There were actually little shelves set up inside it, which revolved with the door.
Just inside the door was a place that looked like the missing link between food kiosks and restaurants. We stopped there for lunch. I got a ciabatta and a "měšec marcipanovy." (Google translates this as "marzipan bag.") It was surprisingly sweet and dense - like chewy, sugary clay. Not like anything I've eaten before, but delicious.
...
Lysice Castle
Lysice ('LISS-it-seh') Castle is really more of a palace, but the foundations of the original fortification are apparently somewhere underneath the elaborately sculpted mansion that sits there now. You can still see traces of the moat.
Past the front entrance is a courtyard lined with the coats-of-arms of various related noble families.
Past the front entrance is a courtyard lined with the coats-of-arms of various related noble families.
Judging from our guide's comments, the various owners of Lysice Castle seem to have made it a collection of the best of everything. The floors are mosaic, or striped stone, or ornate inlaid wood that we had to wear special slippers to shuffle across.
The main staircase has columns, more mosaics, and a huge skylight at the top.
The ornaments are porcelain and alabaster and inlaid marble; the chapel has a traveling pipe organ that can be folded up and brought on vacations; the garden has domed flowerbeds planted with geometrical patterns of plants, surrounded by a colonnade on which one of the previous lords liked to have breakfast every morning.
Even the bathrooms have stained glass windows - though the plumbing is from the 1940s. Practically every surface is carved, painted, or inlaid with various precious materials.
The library is paneled with a rare, swirly-grained wood…
...Which is actually an imitation made by rubbing wood stain onto ordinary wood with a special cloth. (This art has been lost in the centuries since.)
The dining room has ornate floral designs molded onto the ceiling…
...Which are actually extremely convincing trompe l'oeil, painted to match the sunlight from the windows.
The main staircase has columns, more mosaics, and a huge skylight at the top.
The ornaments are porcelain and alabaster and inlaid marble; the chapel has a traveling pipe organ that can be folded up and brought on vacations; the garden has domed flowerbeds planted with geometrical patterns of plants, surrounded by a colonnade on which one of the previous lords liked to have breakfast every morning.
Even the bathrooms have stained glass windows - though the plumbing is from the 1940s. Practically every surface is carved, painted, or inlaid with various precious materials.
The library is paneled with a rare, swirly-grained wood…
...Which is actually an imitation made by rubbing wood stain onto ordinary wood with a special cloth. (This art has been lost in the centuries since.)
The dining room has ornate floral designs molded onto the ceiling…
...Which are actually extremely convincing trompe l'oeil, painted to match the sunlight from the windows.
The best of everything, apparently, includes the best illusions.
...
Telč
We stopped for dinner in Telč. I still had half of my lunch left, so I didn't bother to look for a restaurant; instead, I just walked down to the pond we'd passed on the way in, ate my leftovers there, and spent the remaining 45 minutes watching the sunset and sketching the view.
It was a good way to spend the last few hours of daylight before the long evening drive to tonight's hotel.
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