Croatian National Theatre, Zagreb

Stand still for a moment and listen. Trams roll and chime along the edge of the square. Pigeons scatter across the paving. In front of you rises a wide, warm yellow building, its walls the colour of fresh butter in the sun. White columns, carved figures and a green dome sit on top like icing. This is the Croatian National Theatre, and for more than a century it has been the place where Zagreb comes to see itself on stage.

The building opened in 1895. In theatre terms, that is a very good year to be born. Across Central Europe, cities were growing fast and wanted grand stages to match their ambitions. Zagreb was then part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. It was a provincial capital with a strong sense of its own language and identity, and it wanted a theatre that said so out loud.

To design it, the city turned to two Viennese architects, Ferdinand Fellner and Hermann Helmer. Their names may mean little to you now, but you have almost certainly seen their work somewhere. Their studio designed dozens of theatres across the empire and beyond, from Vienna to Odesa. They had a kind of theatre formula: a strong central front, a dome, rich decoration, and a horseshoe-shaped hall inside. Once you know their style, you start to recognise it in many cities.

Look at the facade again. The style is called neo-baroque. That means it copies the drama of the baroque period, the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, when architecture liked curves, statues and theatrical effects. Here the effect is deliberate. A theatre should look like a theatre. The building wants you to feel that something important happens behind those doors, even before you buy a ticket.

Here is a detail many visitors miss. The theatre was opened in the presence of Emperor Franz Joseph himself. According to a well-known story, he tapped a ceremonial silver hammer during the opening, a symbolic last touch to the construction. It was a moment full of politics. Croatia wanted to show its own culture, and the emperor came to show that this culture still lived inside his empire. The same evening carried two very different messages.

The company that performs here is actually older than the building. Professional Croatian theatre has roots in the middle of the nineteenth century. Before this building existed, performances took place in an older theatre in the Upper Town, up on the hill behind you. That period is known as the Croatian National Revival, a movement to strengthen the Croatian language, literature and identity. So when this building opened, it was not starting a tradition. It was giving an existing tradition a proper home.

Inside, the theatre holds a treasure connected to that revival. The stage curtain was painted by Vlaho Bukovac, one of the most important Croatian painters of his time. It shows the Croatian National Revival as a grand scene, full of figures from Croatian culture and history. If you attend a performance, watch the curtain before the show begins. Many people check their phones and never really look at it. It is one of the finest paintings in the city, and it hangs right there in front of you.

Now turn your attention to the space just in front of the theatre. There is a sunken circular well with bronze figures. This is the Well of Life, made by Ivan Meštrović, the most famous Croatian sculptor of the twentieth century. The bodies twist and press together around the edge of the well. Young and old, men and women, all crowded around the water. Walk around it slowly. Every angle shows a different human moment, and the figures sit low, so you look down into them.

The square itself has changed its name several times, which tells you a lot about the region. Today it is called the Republic of Croatia Square. Under Yugoslavia it carried the name of Marshal Tito. The buildings around it stayed the same, while the political story changed around them. Look around and you will see university buildings facing the theatre across the green spaces. Students, professors and theatre-goers share this square every day.

This square is also part of something larger, which you can only really understand from a map. In the late nineteenth century, Zagreb planned a chain of green squares and parks in the Lower Town, shaped like a horseshoe. Locals call it the Green Horseshoe, or the Lenuci Horseshoe, after the urban planner Milan Lenuci. The theatre is one of the anchors of this design. Grand public buildings stand inside green open spaces, so the city breathes between its stone blocks.

The theatre is not a museum. It is a working house with opera, ballet and drama on the same stage. On a performance evening, the mood of the square changes. People arrive dressed up, couples stand on the steps, groups wait near the fountain. The lights in the windows come on, and the yellow facade glows against the darkening sky. If you can, come back in the evening. The same building feels completely different after sunset.

If you do go inside, look at the shape of the main hall. The horseshoe form, with balconies stacked one above another, was designed so that the audience could see the stage, and also see each other. In the nineteenth century, going to the theatre was a social event. Who sat where, and with whom, was part of the show. Even today, when the lights are up during the interval, you can feel that old tradition of watching and being watched.

Before you move on, take one more look from where you are standing. The green dome against the sky. The white figures along the roofline. The bronze bodies of the Well of Life turning around their water. The trams still chime at the edge of the square, just as they have for generations of theatre-goers. As you walk away, glance back once over your shoulder. The theatre is built to be seen from a distance, and it looks its best just as you leave.