The fall of the Czechoslovak communist regime in late 1989 opened the doors for religious institutions to re-establish themselves and their influence on society. However, the dominant trend soon afterwards and over the past 30 years or so has rather been a generalised persistent secularisation paired with privatised, diversified, and non-institutional forms of religiosity and spiritual practices, which appear to be the corollary of typical neoliberal transformations such as the marketisation and individualisation of religion and spirituality. Test, A. Spiritual Effervescence in One of the Most Secularised Countries in the World. The European Association of Social Anthropologists
Tearooms in post-revolution Czechoslovakia symbolised places through which new spiritualities were flowing, and the influx of largely uncharted ways of life closely intertwined with new age, ambient, folk and minimalism. With their minds altered thanks to smuggled records by Fripp & Eno or Steve Reich, this loose network of musicians had begun composing meditative music, using loops and handmade instruments, with a different sensibility. Compared to the boisterous Zappa-adjacent and booze-soaked underground movement, which was led by Plastic People of the Universe and provoked the state authorities, this music was meant instead for tea rooms and spiritual sites like churches or monasteries, as if occupying some place where time flows anticlockwise. Music journalist Pavel Klusák dubbed this 1990s scene a “tearoom alternative”. Experimental folk singer Oldřich Janota, Jaroslav Kořán’s various ensembles like Modrá or Orloj Snivců (The Horologe of Dreamers) or Irena and Vojtěch Havlovi were drawn by the light and composed music that didn’t match the fast pace of newly imported capitalism. Miloš Hroch, NTS Guide to: Czech Tearoom Ambient, (2025)
The two gradually gravitated towards raga-like swells, worked with Tibetan bowls and recorded an album of gamelan, using instruments borrowed from the Indonesian embassy. In a rare 1995 interview for the magazine Rock & Pop, they discussed their inspirations. “We didn’t know Indian music; our inspiration came from elsewhere, specifically from old European music. It may not seem that way. But Bach and all those masters use minimalistic ‘laps’ in their compositions. Early baroque music is slightly similar to Indian ragas; they are simple, all in one key. Similarly, gothic church choirs are close to Arvo Pärt. These are roots of our music.” Such gentle, timeless sounds didn’t match the fast pace of political change in the country in the early 1990s, and despite being prolific, Irena and Vojtěch were rarely reviewed in the Czech music press. The duo was unspoiled by ambition and capitalist desires – they created music in solitude and in a very DIY fashion: recording on their own, designing their own album sleeves, waiting in long queues at the printers, booking their own shows, selling merch in the streets, and touring by bus only with the instruments they could carry. They seemed to find harmony in the cycle of travelling, performing, and recording. Hroch, M. (2024). The Strange World of… Irena and Vojtěch Havlovi
Wikipedia Contributors (2026). History of Czechoslovakia (1989–1992).
Outsiders: Skupina x mappa, (2024). Kiosk Radio. 1 Apr.