Rebecca Baird: Prague showed me what Dundee could be

Walking around Prague last weekend, I noticed the same thing everyone else does: the architecture.

The historic capital of Bohemia’s skyline is like a sweet shop window of different building styles.

Fairytale castles straight from old storybooks jostle with imposing church spires piercing heaven itself; Medieval towers of grey stone groan, heavy with ancient bells, against brilliant crimson paintworks and roofs of gleaming gold.

In between, squat Brutalist remnants of the Iron Curtain hunker in shadows, their ugliness only enhancing the beauty of the rest.

Prague’s skyline over the Vltava from Shooter’s Island. Image: Rebecca Baird.

You might wonder why this sprawling metropolis, cut in half by the coursing Vltava river, put me in mind of my adopted home city, Dundee.

But the first time I came here, it was the buildings which stood out to me then as well.

Quirky Nethergate building sold me on city

I vividly remember spending much of my Dundee University open day looking up.

The first building to catch my eye was the quirky Wee Pink House on Nethergate, which I found out later was formerly the headquarters of Grand Theft Auto game designers DMA Design, and a photography studio before that.

The wee pink house is above Wee Mexico on the Nethergate. Image: Kim Cessford/DC Thomson.

It was shabby at the time, but thought it was really charming, and when I was deciding which city to live in, the image of that wee pink house often flashed up in my mind.

Walking down Reform Street in 2014 was a little sad, as so many of the now-filled empty units were boarded up.

But it forced my eye to look beyond the shopfronts, and I couldn’t believe how many different shapes of roofs and beautiful accents there were.

Fond memories of old dye works flat

I ended up living on Victoria Road first, in the old dye works. I loved seeing the original carved signage of Dundee’s historic industries on the walls each time I came home.

And with nearby neighbours like the turreted tenements next to the Little Theatre and the Baxter Park pavilion, I was spoilt for choice of eye-catching architecture.

Dundee may not have the impossibly ornate St Vitus Cathedral, or the biggest castle complex in the world like Prague does, but we have our Gothic Revival dream in the form of the McManus Galleries.

McManus Galleries, Dundee. Image: DC Thomson.

I’ve lived here nine years now, and see it every single day when I come to work in the DC Thomson offices across the road. Yet I still struggle to walk by without stopping to stare or snap a photo.

My point (I think you get it) is that just like Prague, Dundee has plenty of spectacular skyline to offer anyone looking up.

But unlike Prague, Dundee isn’t making the most of it.

Dundee is a faded gem – let’s polish it

Walk down the streets in Prague’s New Town and you might be met with a huge pile of rubble thanks to the incessant roadworks. But the pavements, where intact, are spotless.

Painted buildings are vibrant in new coats of buttery yellow, mint green and cotton-candy pink. The golden roof of the National Theatre sparkles like it was installed yesterday, not more than a century ago.

Prague’s National Theatre. Image: Rebecca Baird.

Looking around Dundee, its former glory seems just that – former.

Faded facades are mere echoes of what would’ve been proud red sandstone.

Invasive weeds wrinkle up once-sturdy walls and everything seems a little crumbling, a little chipped, a little unloved.

The streets themselves are a state – a rant I’ve already had in a previous column – with litter abounding and a build-up of dirt and grime gathering in corners.

And I maintain that the city’s social problems are at the root of its ugliness.

But Prague got me thinking that it really wouldn’t take much to elevate Dundee to a (smaller) centre of interesting architecture.

City of Design squandering wealth of riches

Picking out the ornate pelmets and carved details on Dundee’s buildings with a lick of paint, like Wee Mexico have done with the Wee Pink House, can make a world of difference.

Prague’s paintwork was always fresh – possibly to combat the omnipresent graffiti. Either way, it looks lovely.

A typical street in Prague’s old town, with graffiti on the walls but not on the facades of the colourful buildings. Image: Supplied.

Street sweepers, industrial-sized street vacuums and stone bins cemented to the ground abounded in Prague, meaning litter was simply not an issue.

They even had designated planters for punters to pee in while walking home from a night on the town, to save anti-social skulking in doorways and help maintain the pH of the soil.

Now, I don’t know if Dundee’s ready for that.

But as the supposed City of Design, we ought to take a leaf out of Czechia’s book and cash in on the wealth of riches we’ve got standing all around us.