The National Theatre is a heavy neo-Renaissance block on the embankment with a blue-and-gold roof and bronze chariots on the corners, and that roof is what catches the low sun from across the river. Inside is the opposite: gold leaf, painted ceilings and a hand-painted stage curtain, all made by one group of young artists. It has opera, ballet and drama in repertoire, so most evenings the building is doing the thing it was built for.
It was paid for by public collection, coin by coin, at a time when Czech was the language of the countryside and German ran the city. The motto they cut above the stage says it plainly: Národ sobě, the nation to itself. Then, weeks after the doors first opened, a fire started during roofing and gutted the building. They collected all over again, and it was rebuilt within two years. That is the thing to carry into the auditorium with you: this is a room a poor nation paid for twice.