The idea of decorating buildings with a timepiece goes back a long way, says Dr. Jiøí (Jiri) Podolský, from Charles University in Prague.
The square, lion-flanked tower in Padua, Italy was built in 1344. The original Strasbourg clock, with angels, hour glasses, and crowing roosters, was built in 1354. But, if you're looking for a highly ornamental, astronomical clock with its original workings intact, Dr. Podolský says: Go to Prague.
Prague, capital of the Czech Republic, is a crazy quilt of architectural styles. During a recent visit, I found Gothic cathedrals soaring over Romanesque churches... Art Nouveau facades nestled alongside Cubist buildings. And, everywhere I went, I discovered clock towers.
The oldest and most celebrated clock is on the side wall of the Old Town Hall. With glittering hands and a complex series of filigreed wheels, this ornamental timepiece does not merely mark the hours. Symbols of the zodiac tell the course of the heavens, and when the bell tolls, windows fly open and mechanical apostles, skeletons, and "sinners" begin a ritualistic dance of destiny.
The irony of the Prague clock is that for all its mastery at keeping time, it is nearly impossible to place in time.
Dr. Podolský thinks the original tower was built in about 1410. It was an austere structure back then, and the clock showed only astronomical data. Later, in 1490, the tower facade was decorated with flamboyant gothic sculptures and a golden astronomical dial.
Then, in the 1600's, came the mechanical figure of Death--leering and tolling the great bell. The mid-1800's brought still more additions: Wooden carvings of the twelve apostles and a calendar disk with astrological signs.
Everything in Prague has a story, and so it is with the Old Town clock. Natives claim that when the mechanical figures were created, town officials had the clockmaker blinded so that he would never duplicate his masterpiece.
In vengeance, the blind man climbed the tower and stopped his creation. The clock remained silent for more than fifty years. Centuries later, during dreary decades of communist domination, the legend of the blinded clockmaker became a METAphor for thwarted creativity.
Why do we turn timepieces into architectural monuments?
Perhaps, as Dr. Podolský suggests, builders of early clock towers wanted to show their respect for the heavenly order. Or, perhaps the idea runs even deeper. Was there ever an era when humans did not build great structures to mark the passage of time?
Just look at Stonehenge! Now that's an old clock.
