What remains of a village swallowed by a city? Here in Litochleby, that question hangs in the air. It’s a name on the map, a neighborhood in Prague’s sprawling Jižní Město district. But Litochleby, you see, was once a village in its own right. We’re standing on what was once the heart of that village, a traditional návsi, a round village square. Picture this: farmhouses clustered around this central point, life revolving around the seasons and the harvest. The name itself, Litochleby, speaks to that simpler time. It means “those who pity bread,” hinting at the frugality of its people. The earliest records we have of Litochleby date back to the 14th century, over 700 years ago! Ondřej, a local ruler, bore the village’s name. Over the centuries, Litochleby changed hands many times, absorbed into various estates and properties. Yet, it retained its identity as a village, even becoming officially part of the Chodov municipality in the 19th century. But the 20th century brought change on a larger scale. Prague grew, expanding outward, and Litochleby found itself on the edge of this urban wave. By the 1920s, Litochleby was physically linked to Chodov, the houses connected, signaling the beginning of the end of its independent existence. The final blow came in the 1970s. The construction of the massive Jižní Město housing estate swept aside what remained of the old village. The farmhouses, the square, all gone, replaced by concrete and asphalt. This makes Litochleby a poignant example of how cities evolve, absorbing and transforming the landscapes around them. Today, the name Litochleby lives on, a whisper from the past in a modern city. It’s a reminder that even amidst the steel and glass, traces of a more rural, more traditional way of life still linger.
Центральный дом работников искусств
Step through the grand wooden doors of the Central House of the Workers of Art, and you’ll be transported to