The religious world of late medieval and early modern Central Europe is complicated, convoluted and, above, all entangled. But despite the real and tangible connections that linked the various polities of this region together, scholars have tended to explore this landscape along anachronistic divisions defined narrowly by language and nation. This article, by contrast, examines connections that developed between the Bohemian and Austrian lands. It begins in the mid-fourteenth century by exploring rivalling efforts of Emperor Charles IV in Prague and his son-in-law, Duke Rudolf IV of Austria, to build the institutional foundations upon which critical ecclesiastical changes occurred in the following three centuries. The chapter traces parallel reform programmes in the fifteenth century that had very different outcomes. While Hussitism left Bohemia isolated, the efforts of Nicholas of Cusa and others helped to integrate the Austrian lands into the broader ecclesiastical culture of the West. The sixteenth century brought an Erasmian humanism to both regions as well as more radical expressions of reform. Protestantism reached its high point here in the late sixteenth century only to collapse dramatically a few decades later with the great crisis of the Thirty Years’ War. The chapter concludes with a comparison of the exiles who left this region after the Catholic victory.

This chapter explores how Czech translations and productions of Die Zauberflöte intertwined with the development of Czech national culture between the late eighteenth and late nineteenth centuries. The history of the Czech Zauberflöte adaptations illustrates the gradual transformation of the Czech national movement from a branch of Bohemian regional patriotism into a confident and even aggressive nationalistic movement with strong anti-German tendencies. Die Zauberflöte was the first Mozart opera to be translated into Czech in 1794. In the early nineteenth century, Czech nationalists called for a new translation that would express their anti-German sentiments. Similar sentiments also dominated Czech criticism of Die Zauberflöte in the 1860s, according to which Mozart’s Singspiel was inferior to his Italian operas. In the 1880s, the Czech National Theater managed to incorporate Die Zauberflöte into the canon of national operas, but only by suppressing Schikaneder’s original plot and rearranging Mozart’s music.

This chapter shows how ethnic concepts became prominent in Bohemian debates about Mozart in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. The chapter first explores the writings of Mozart’s first biographer Franz Xaver Niemetschek to show that around 1800 regional identity in Prague was dominated by the ambiguous concept of Bohemian patriotism. With the rise of Czech and German ethnic nationalism in the ensuing decades, Prague’s critics and musicologists mined Mozart’s operas, as well as works by his eighteenth-century contemporaries and predecessors, such as Stamitz and Gluck, for inherent qualities associated with Czech and German-Bohemian cultures, especially folk music. In the 1930s, Czech and German-Bohemian musicologists used racial criteria to prove that Gluck’s and Mozart’s music was inherently Czech or German (or Sudeten German, as many Czechoslovak Germans identified themselves by then). These ethnocentric preoccupations were further emphasized by Czech Marxist musicologists in the post–World War II period.

This chapter explores the relationship between political developments in Bohemia from the 1790s to the 1880s and the concept of fidelity to “authentic” texts and music (Werktreue) in Mozart’s operas. The idea of Werktreue appeared in Prague in the 1790s in response to Bohemian patriotism and negative attitudes to the central government in Vienna. In the 1820s, Czech nationalists embraced similar attitudes in approaching Don Giovanni, and both the first Czech production of 1825 and the first production of the work at the Czech National Theater (1884) showcased the opera with musical numbers that were cut in contemporaneous German productions. German-Bohemians appropriated Werktreue as well but understood “authentic” performances of Don Giovanni as a link to the ideals of a pan-German national culture. By the time of the 1887 Don Giovanni centennial celebrations, however, some German-Bohemian critics considered Werktreue in Mozart’s operas antithetical to true German art under the influence of Wagnerian ideas.

This chapter focuses on the history of three Mozart monuments in Prague: a Mozart foundation in Prague’s university library established in 1837 to compete with the plans for a Mozart monument in Salzburg; a German Mozart monument that was to be built in the city center in 1914; and Bertramka, a suburban estate where Mozart supposedly lived during his Bohemian visits and where he purportedly finished Don Giovanni. All three commemorative sites were embroiled in various Czech–German national conflicts. The chapter focuses on the process through which Bertramka transformed into a national shrine and the patriotic myths that contributed to this transformation. Whereas Czech commentators viewed Bertramka as a monument to Mozart’s ties to the Czechs, German Bohemians considered it a symbolic site of German culture. Patriotic and nationalist concerns eventually imbued the myths about Mozart and Bertramka with an aura of truth.

This chapter explores how post–World War II nationalism affected the understanding of the transnational dissemination of Don Giovanni in late eighteenth-century Central Europe. The chapter traces one of the earliest German adaptations of Don Giovanni, created in Prague in 1790–91 for the company of Wenzel Mihule. This adaptation was later used in many South German cities (such as Nuremberg), in Saxony (Leipzig and Dresden), the Viennese Wiednertheater, and in many places in Bohemia, Moravia, and Slovakia. The adaptation was largely overlooked by previous studies of Don Giovanni reception because after 1945, both Czech scholars in the newly de-Germanized Bohemia and Austro-German scholars were not interested in researching German culture in what after the forced resettlement of the German population became predominantly Slavic regions.

This chapter explores how Bohemians, Czechs, and German Bohemians projected their views of Bohemia’s relationship to the Habsburg dynasty onto La clemenza di Tito between 1791 and 1891. The opera initially expressed the Bohemians’ allegiance to Habsburg emperors and was used to commemorate various Habsburg anniversaries. In 1873, this pro-Habsburg symbolism aligned with the political interests of German Bohemians, when Tito was performed in the German Theater to celebrate the twenty-fifth anniversary of Emperor Franz Joseph’s rule and the defeat of the 1871 Fundamental Articles, in which the emperor promised to acknowledge Bohemian autonomy to Czech leaders. At the same time, already by the 1790s, some Bohemian commentators associated the opera with anti-Habsburg sentiments. This symbolic meaning became particularly prominent in 1891, when the Czech National Theater’s centennial production of La clemenza di Tito was canceled because of fears that it would incite anti-German and anti-dynastic passions.

Clara and Robert Schumann moved to Dresden in 1844, and resided there until 1850. Little is known about their social life in Dresden, although Schumann scholars have refuted both the notion of Dresden as a culturally underdeveloped town and the perception that Clara and Robert lacked artistic innovation during their residency there. Indeed, they initiated and participated in a number of spontaneous private visits, meals, soirées, organized musical circles, matinees and trios in their own or friends’ homes; walks and outings in the countryside; sociable visits to restaurants and coffee houses; and public events. All these served the shared purpose, albeit in different forms, of communication about and through music. By illuminating facets of the Schumanns’ private and semi-public life in Dresden from the perspective of interpersonal communication, this chapter offers insights into how Clara and Robert Schumann communicated with their contemporaries through physical meetings, letters, visual components (such as drawings and lines of poetry) in album leaves, and musical material, together with a discussion of how these communications influenced their artistic outlook. In doing so, the chapter sheds light on the blurred boundaries between private, semi-private and public domains, especially as these levels of communication were merged in the Schumanns’ lives.

From 1972 to 1977, Roth regularly traveled to Prague in order to meet with writers silenced by the totalitarian Czech regime, trips that he briefly but poignantly describes in his remarks at the 2013 PEN Literary Gala. His relationships with artists in Prague also led to his work as general editor of the “Writers from the Other Europe” series, which featured work by Milan Kundera, Bruno Schulz, and others. Roth would send Nathan Zuckerman to Prague in 1985’s The Prague Orgy. With this in mind, this chapter will address the importance of the city in Roth’s own life, in his philosophies of artistic freedom, and in the development of his protagonists.

While examining the theological, ideological and sociological dimensions of the Sabbatean messianic movement, and sketching its major figures, the chapter is aimed at uncovering less famous kabbalistic schools and movements in the seventeenth century. These go beyond the continued editing, formulation and influence of Safedian Kabbalah, with the philosophically oriented interpreters of Kabbalah in Italy being of special interest. Against the backdrop of the general crisis of the century and particularly the growing insecurity of European Jewry,the development of nationalistic Kabbalah, especially in Prague, especially its focus on the Land of Israel, is examined. The role played by Musar (self-perfection) literature and magic in popularizing Kabbalah, the reception of Christianized Kabbalah amongst elites in several Protestant countries complement the picture of the growing sway of this lore during the course of the century. However, the very success of Kabbalah also generated a range of critical responses, expanding from Italy into northern Europe (including non-Jews). Tellingly, these included cautions against its early study found in central legal codes.