At Christmastime, it feels like Prague turns into into a puppet show. Sparkling lights, carols, decorated gingerbread, and a fairytale backdrop set the stage. Despite the fact that this is one of the most atheistic countries in the world, Czechs embrace their Christmas folk traditions in a heartfelt, noncommercial way.
To me, one of the most "puppet-y" aspects of Czech Christmas are the nativity scenes, known in Czech as “betlém” (Bethlehem). They are made from just about anything: gingerbread, blown glass, lace, corn husks, bread (yes, bread). There’s even a museum famous for exhibiting a betlém carved from butter every year. Towns stage live outdoor reenactments complete with angels, sheep and the youngest baby available.
But it’s the wooden betlémy that really evoke puppetry, especially the charming mechanical ones. Most were originally hand-cranked and made in the 19th and early 20th centuries by amateur carvers who spent decades adding to their masterpieces. Some of the biggest (and according to the Guinness Book the Czechs have the biggest in the world) fill an entire room. They are intricately carved with hilarious scenes of local village life. Like Czech puppetry, they boast an extraordinary high level of artistry, craftsmanship and engineering. Some of them eventually got international recognition, but generally it’s not a very well known phenomenon.
Baby Jesus, forgotten landscapes, and digging miners
You can see what makes these so spectacular in the following four videos. Their craftsmanship is remarkable, but so are the stories they tell. They all give you a glimpse of life in the early industrial age and are infused with a sense of humor and irreverence that Czechs are known for.
The mechanical betlém in the town of Třebechovice is as good as they get. It went to the 1967 World Expo scene and was declared a National Cultural Monument in 1999. Sadly its creators didn't experience much success during their lifetime.
Called Master Probošt's Nativity Scene, it was built in the early 20th century by three men: Josef Probošt, Josef Kapucián and Josef Friml. It is 7 meters long, 2 meters wide, and 2.5 meters high, and has over 2,000 intricately carved wooden pieces.
Probošt (1849 - 1926) was a farmer and carpenter who devoted 40 years of his life to it. It all started in 1885, when he made a betlém for his wife after the loss of their 7-month-old baby. The project grew into an all-consuming passion which sadly didn't seem to bring much joy to the family. Probošt abandoned farming to dedicate himself to his masterpiece, dreaming that one day Habsburg Emperor Franz Joseph would come to see it. Meanwhile, his wife and daughter took over the farm to keep from starving.
Probošt hired master carver Josef Kapucián to make the figures and Josef Friml to work out the mechanics. Kapucián carved nearly all the 400 people and animals, which included caricatures of local politicians and portraits of himself and Probošt. He carved the remarkable sculptures from linden wood - the same wood used for traditional Czech puppets - but a few of the beautiful, delicately carved trees are made from pear wood. Kapucián died in 1908 alone in a poor house, which marked the end of the expansion of the piece. Josef Friml, who built water mills for a living, was the engineer of the project. It was originally powered by one large hand crank that even a child could turn. An electric motor was installed in 1935.
Like the puppeteers of that era, Probošt hoped to earn a living by travelling around the region and exhibiting the nativity scene. Originally the massive structure was built in an L-shape, but he reconfigured it into a straight horizontal line so it would be easier to transport. He had some early success, winning a gold medal at an exhibition in 1906. But over time, Probošt’s could not make it financially viable. He also died in poverty in 1926. His wife and daughter moved the nativity scene into a shed. Dreams of emperors and fame seemed over. His daughter sold it in 1934.
It sat in storage for many years, but in 1967 the nativity's fate took a turn. It was exhibited at the World Expo in Montreal, where hundreds of thousands of people saw it, and a few years later it toured to London. The Hapsburg empire was long over, but in 1970 Queen Elizabeth saw and probably admired Probošt’s betlém.
Today, it is displayed in a museum in the town of Třebechovice, the home of the talented trio of Josefs. (coincidentally and conveniently the museum is very close the the Museum of Puppets in Chrudim, the largest Czech puppet museum if you are inspired to come see it). From 2012 -2016. It was restored to its original glory through extensive renovations funded by Czech and Norwegian grants. You can see another video about the restoration here:
Josef Probošt's love of mechanical nativity scenes was probably inspired by one exhibited in the 1880s in Vambeřice, a pilgrimage site close to Trebechovice. Longin Wittig, a locksmith, worked on it for 28 years. Today it can still be seen in Vambeřice, which is now a part of Poland, and is owned by the local parish.
The Biggest
The Probošt nativity scene may be the most spectacular, but it is not the largest. That honor goes to Tomáš Krýza (1858 - 1918) and is the one that is in the Guinness Book of World Records.
It is 60 square meters and has 1400 figures; 133 of them move. It is in the Southern Bohemian Museum in Jindřichův Hradec, which is where it was made a century ago over the course of 60 years.
Tomáš Krýza (1858 - 1918) earned his living knitting stockings and worked on the nativity scene at night on a daily basis. As a child, he was inspired by his uncle, who made a nativity scene that was exhibited in the town tower. Young Tomáš was determined to make one that was even bigger. He certainly did that, and his magnificent nativity scene documents the typical architecture of the town and the people and animals who lived there.
Before Christmas, Krýza would assemble and display it with all the new parts every year. His figures had wooden bodies but their heads and hands were made from a special kind of plaster made from flour, sawdust, plaster and glue. This technique was later typical for the mass produced Czech toy theatre puppets that were extremely popular in the 1920s.
In 1894 it was exhibited at the Economic and Industrial Exhibition in Jindřichův Hradec. A year later, part of it was exhibited at a large ethnographic exhibition in Prague. Some of the parts were allegedly damaged or destroyed there, so the piece might have been even larger than it is now.
The mechanism was originally powered by a hand-crank, and Tomas’s son, Jan Krýza put it on an electric motor. In 1935 Jan donated it to the museum where you can still see it today.
A Family Passion
A few years ago I took students to a puppet festival in Liberec, home of the fantastic Naive Puppet Theater. We went to the North Bohemia Museum to see a puppet exhibition. When we went down to the basement to leave our coats in the lockers, we stumbled upon Metelka's amazing mechanical nativity scene. The guard kindly agreed to turn it on for us, and we were mesmerized.
This was a tradition embraced by several in the Metelka family. This piece was spearheaded by Jáchym Metelka (1853-1940), a tailor from the North Bohemian mountains who worked on it for thirty years. Initially the figures were made of paper, but over time Jachym's son Václav replaced them with carved figures. Another son, also named Jáchym, created a nativity scene that is now in another museum, as did a cousin.
It is 3.5 meters wide, with 260 figures, about a third of which move. They are brought to life by a mechanism that originally used weights, but was later replaced by an electric motor.
Like the puppet tradition of the 19th century, this passion was often passed down from one generation to the next. Unlike the traveling puppeteers, who earned their living with their shows, this was an amateur tradition deeply rooted in the community and the place where the creators lived.
A 21s Century Rendition
In 2004, a group of carvers spent ten months creating a betlém for the Sušice - Šumava Museum which was inspired by an original destroyed in the late 1940s. The design is based mainly on the memories of someone who saw the original at that time.
Sušice is a mountain town in southern Bohemia near the German border and an area with a complicated 20th century history. The piece evokes the past, including a synagogue that was destroyed in the 1960s and the defunct paper mill as well as castles, picturesque Renaissance buildings, typical mountain cottages.
Betlém today
The visual richness of the culture, humor, and irreverence for institutions are all part of the Czechs’ DNA. For centuries, it has contributed to their creativity - often unacknowledged.
Is a betlém a form of puppetry? Theatre? Scuplture? Automata? It is the overlap of the genres that makes Czech visual and performing arts so interesting, as well as the way folk traditions seep into artistic expression. Today many artists - visual and performing - integrate and transform the aesthetics of nativity scenes, allowing the tradition to endure and evolve.
by Leah Gaffen
Mirek Trejtnar's sculpture/automata/nativity scene
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