I’m usually hopeful ahead of any museum visit, and I usually carry away from it new or challenged ideas, new information or perspectives
Once in a while, I’ve had the disappointment of not finding what I most expected from the visit—and my trip to the National Czech and Slovak Museum and Library in Cedar Rapids, Iowa was one of those—which doesn’t make it not worth visiting.
Based on what I had read, I expected to learn about how 19th century immigrants from Slovakia and Czechia created enduring American communities with flavors of ‘the old country.’ Iowa was one of the main destinations then, and again in the 1950s.
What I found, primarily, was information and exhibits on history and culture from ‘the old country’ and the 20th-century history of the two countries as they moved from Austrian rule to independence to German occupation to the Cold War era, with only a little about life in America.
The immigrants of the 19th century generally came because of the opportunity for land of their own and economic opportunities; a ship mockup with steerage bunks illustrates that experience. The bunk space was our One-Clue Mystery this week, correctly identified, as usual, by George G.
The Reformed Church was the main denomination among the early immigrants; the painted glass window is from the Hus Memorial Presbyterian Church in Cedar Rapids, founded by Czech and Bohemian immigrants in 1889. Fraternal organizations and sports organizations were also among key features of the communities, seen in this collection of medals and badges.
And some things changed a lot among them. The traditional kolache pastry changed over time into an amazing variety of forms and flavors.
A variety of 20th century posters illustrated moments in Czech and Slovak history—commercial and travel posters, film posters from the Czech ‘New Wave’ of the 1960s and 1970s, and wall art from the period of unrest and rebellion before the ‘Velvet Revolution’ ended the period of life behind the ‘Iron Curtain.’
Other posters and exhibits illustrated wartime occupation by Germany, and the later struggles over the country’s post-war rule
A thoughtful bronze of Tomas Masaryk, the ‘founding father’ of Czechoslovakia and its first president from 1918 to 1935, has a curious story. Cast in 1937—the year of his death—for a town square, it was hidden during the Nazi occupation and ended up after the war in a museum basement; the family that had paid for it was eventually able to get ownership and permission to bring it to Iowa in 1977.
The museum also has another unique feature at the edge of its campus: a working replica of the Prague Orloj, the great 15th-century astronomical clock that is a popular feature of Prague’s Town Hall. Like the original, it shows not only the time but the positions of the sun, moon, earth and Zodiac constellations. Unlike the original, its mechanism is digital and instead of a parade of Twelve Apostles at key hours, there is a parade of immigrants. The tower was built in 1995; the orloj-style clock was added in 2024 for the Museum’s 50th anniversary.
In addition to the permanent collections, the museum also hosts a variety of temporary exhibits. A major one while I was there was Spotlight on Slovakia, drawing from the museum’s collections and loans to show crafts and lifestyles of Slovakia in different eras. Long a part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, Slovakia’s culture and language struggled to escape obliteration.
Slovak artisans worked in ceramics, in wood and in wire—the picture just above shows pieces all made of drawn wire. Below, a beautiful ornate platter that looks like pottery but is actually wooden. Below that, a 20th century embroidery with beads, done in the style of an earlier era.
One of the strangest displays has to be this one. Milan Stefanik was born in Slovakia, became a fervent nationalist, studied philosophy and astronomy, including time in Paris. In World War I he was a French pilot, and after the war was a founder of the Czech National Council, along with Masaryk. In 1919, he died in a plane crash. So far, not so weird, right? But the items in the picture, other than the bust of Stefanik, were collected by a priest who witnessed the crash and essentially kept them as a sort of shrine!
The house shown here is from the village of Cicmany, noted for houses decorated in intricate white patterns, a practice that started 200 years ago with white lime applied to preserve wooden siding. The village is a tourism destination, with its streets and houses restored to their traditional look and feel in 1977. The museum’s replica was built with help from high school classes.\
This is an example of ‘tramp art,’ popular in Slovak-American communities in America; this one is from 1920. Tramp art is made of bits and scraps from cigar boxes and shipping crates. The wood is chipped into small pieces and then the finished work is put together with glue and joints. Other objects commonly made include picture frames and storage boxes.
Juraj Janoski was a 17th-century Slovak highwayman; like Robin Hood, he was said to rob from the rich and give to the poor, making him not only a popular figure but a sort of symbol of resistance. He was captured in a pub after “slipping on spilled peas, thrown in his way by a treacherous old lady.” All the figures in this display represent him.
Pottery from two towns in Slovakia, Modra and Pozdisov. Modra is still a center for ceramics and some of these designs continue in production. In Pozdizov, the 18th century was the high point of its pottery. Below the pottery, a wooden picture frame with spaces for many individual images.
Traditional Slovak folk dress has many variations; each town had its own patterns and traditions, and some had different costumes for weddings, funerals and other occasions.
