Big, ugly and bloated. Why won’t Prague demolish the former Palace of Culture?
The building of the Congress Center has its own fire brigade, 46 elevators are hidden inside, 70 halls and lounges, the largest of which can accommodate almost 2,800 people. The boiler room resembles a small power plant, the paving on all floors occupies 2.5 hectares and the air-conditioning pipes could be developed to a distance of one hundred kilometers.
“I don’t think megalomaniac seems to me. If you want to organize a congress for ten thousand people with an accompanying exhibition, you won’t go to a family house. Is it a megalomaniac car company in Boleslav or a Pilsen brewery?” asks its director Michal Kárník.
The impressive view of Prague is unique, even in comparison with similar buildings in the world. But it all records the critics.
The architects accuse the former Palace of Culture of being ravaged by the city’s skyline, technicians point to its enormous energy intensity, financial horrors of almost two billion in debt, and its connection to the former regime is more sensitive to its character. Hundreds of communist chiefs from all over the country began to come here in 1981 after five years of construction.
That is why it has been said since the 1990s that the former Palace of Culture, called Pakul, would be better demolished. “So that’s complete nonsense. Why should the city, and therefore the state, get rid of a building that works and earns money? We have 250 events a year, averaging three days a year.
In addition, Professor Michal Mejstřík calculated that the Congress Center has brought six billion crowns to public budgets since 2000, “says Kárník in his office with an extraordinary view of Prague Castle, but on the other hand, the highway.
Thirteen years ago, the reconstruction ended, which burdened the center with debt, of which about 1.8 billion remain today. That’s why the government decided a few days ago to help with the repayment. In return, the company receives 70 percent of its assets, which include the adjacent hotel and business center. In addition, Prague wants to invest three-quarters of a billion in its modernization.
Crowds of Praguers on the Open Day at the then Palace of Culture in Prague (April 20, 1981)
Communist orphan. Damn, don’t you?
“From the point of view of the quality of the architecture, the building is of course important, neither original nor up-to-date. It never belonged to Prague’s gems and the popular name Moby Dick characterized it precisely,” describes the architect Radomíra Sedláková.
Yes, it is too big, too bloated for its place. Although called the Palace of Culture, it was clearly a party and meeting affair that was to be revived after 1989. It perfectly documents the time of its creation. The building was built by the ruling party, which made it clear that everything would be submitted.
So should it be demolished? “Rather not, it has left ugly buildings every time, and the current one does not guarantee that something better will come about. The current time is confusing and so is its architecture,” Sedláková plans.
The congress center has an absolutely unique view of Prague.
The historian of architecture Zdeněk Lukeš considers the former Palace of Culture to be an average building. Similar ones were built in other countries. Therefore, it does not consider it reasonable to maintain it in its current form.
“Today, the requirements for similar facilities are different than at a time when energy was cheap and the building was intended for the Congress of the Communist Party, so no one was interested in operating costs. Now the costs are huge and the building is therefore permanently loss-making,” says Lukeš.
At the same time, Prague councilors claim that saving a building is more financially advantageous than demolishing and paying for a new building. Therefore, he chooses reconstruction.
An extension is even being considered for Prague to advance to the highest and most lucrative congress league. It is an event organization for more than 10,000 participants with a large accompanying exhibition. The house now has a capacity of about 9,500 delegates.
The main hall is for two and a half thousand people. Thanks to the great acoustics, there are often music concerts.
So this is our “óbrhól”
Whether it’s the Congress Center, Pakul, or the cannibal, as we once christened him, whatever he wants, it’s worth a walk. In December 1989, the composition of the first post-November government of Czechoslovakia was discussed here. The International Monetary Fund and the World Bank met here in September 2000, and NATO met here two years later. And with them the big names of world politics.
“So that’s our goblin,” exudes the technical director of the Congress Center, Luděk Bednář, as we enter the huge darkened hall. I vaguely remember him from the late 80’s, when I was here for a school event.
“It’s technically unique. Everything except the auditorium is movable … ceilings, walls, a stage that can accommodate musicians. The hall can be subordinated to quality acoustics. It ranks among the thirteen best concert halls on the planets,” Bednář describes and continues to praise.
The original technical background of the Prague Congress Center
The original technical background of the Prague Congress Center
The whole house is charged with conveniences. “There’s a garbage drop here. But not just any one. Thanks to the vacuum, the garbage bag goes through the pipes and flies right into the garbage truck,” Bednář points to a tin door in the wall. I have no idea what floor and part of the palace we are on. There are miles of corridors. We’re heading underground. There is a gigantic mechanical ventilation and an impressive gas boiler room, which can reach a maximum output of 24 megawatts. This is comparable to the difficulty of the Empire State Building in Manhattan.
I want to sit where Leonid Ilyich
One thing surpasses everything. The rightly praised view. Petřín, Prague Castle and a colorful housing estate in Bohnice, among them in the distance Říp.
“Barbara Bush, the wife of the American president, loved her at that window for a quarter of an hour,” Bednář says, adding another incident. “We have the chair where Brezhnev was sitting. When the Americans were here, the president’s advisers tried the piece of furniture with great interest. It’s such an attraction, instead of Leonid Ilyich.”
Pakul could tell countless stories. And probably will in the years to come. Nobody there admits that his future is uncertain, which has been talked about for almost a quarter of a century.