The Third Man

August 23rd

The Movie The Third Man was an interesting piece of film to watch, primarily because the settings were so familiar in our beautiful city of Vienna. My favorite character was the British officer Calloway, who I thought did an excellent job of portraying the fine line that needs to be toed as an officer in a split zone of occupation. His dealings with the Russian officers seemed to be indicative of the difficulties that arise from trying to protect one’s national interests while at the same time trying to work with another nation to ensure proper security. The best example of this in my opinion was Calloway’s willingness to deal with Russian incursions on his investigation in order to gain a little bit more leeway with his dealing with Martins in his relentless pursuit to get to the bottom of the case.

The area of the city that I recognized first was the path that runs parallel to the Hofburg, where Harry Lime was supposedly killed and Martins first goes to meet him. It was not entirely clear that this was the area because they did not offer any sweeping panoramic views of the area, but the statue across the cobblestone street seemed like the exact location that we walked by during our first walking tour. Of course the Ferris Wheel was the most recognizable landmark of the movie, but it was difficult to determine other areas of Vienna because the land was so bombed and destroyed that it was mostly unrecognizable.

I thought that the social commentary of the film was very interesting, as it explored the differences in morality between a normal society and the post war chaos that inhabited much of Europe following WW2. Holly Martins clearly never thought that his good friend Harry Lime would be capable of something as heinous as stealing and diluting insulin that was bound to kill or maim many people, including children, but the nature of the opportunities that are presented following a devastating war were too much for Lime. Even the way that the film was shot evoked the atmosphere of an exhausted, cynical post-war Vienna at the start of the Cold War and used a lot of unusual camera angles.

I’ve read a lot about the black market trades that were prevalent in all European cities following the war, but it is easy to forget that such times can change people from honest men and women into those that are willing to take advantage of the situation. It is also an interesting look into the differences between negotiating the Russian and British sectors of Vienna, as Lime walks with impunity through the Russian sectors but has to use the sewers in order to escape detection in moving through the Allied territories. The chase scene at the end of the movie would be considered to be almost boring by our standards today, but for the 1950s it was a very intricate and inventive way of showing the final struggle for freedom for Lime. In the end he has actually lost his sense of humanity enough to kill a police officer, which I took as an indication that no matter how people rationalize their actions in those situations they are ultimately responsible for what they do. Lime had killed many during his racketeering career, and made the final transformation into a terrible human being by physically murdering a lawman. Vienna was undoubtedly an extremely polarizing place after WW2

Jewish Museum

August 27th

German word of the day is Fussball, which means soccer

The Viennese Jewish Museum was a very interesting look into the way that Vienna remembers its role in the holocaust, which did a good job in some senses but seemed a little bit indirect in other ways. The exhibits from talented jews did a great job at highlighting the value and contributions that the Jewish population has given Viennese culture, and it made their destruction all the more tragic. The exhibit with the holographic Jewish experiences was extremely odd to me at first, but after walking through the exhibit for several minutes the effect of holograms shifting in and out of view created a chilling atmosphere that spoke strongly of the persecution that they have had to endure.

On the first floor of the museum was one of the more avant garde exhibits that I have seen in any museum (save perhaps the inexplicable Haydn Museum), which was a couple dozen sculptures of noses on the wall. They were made by reworking casts that the artist had made of actual noses of Jews, and according to the explanation it was made to challenge the misguided idea of scientific racism. It reminded me strongly of some of the discussions we had in our class about the attempt of the Nazis to create a scientific justification for the institutionalized racism that they supported, and did a good job of showing the folly of such social ignorance. The memory of how the Nazis attempted to find some justification using scientific evidence is very chilling, as we generally associate such barbarity with populations that are not at the fore of what we would consider to be scientific enlightenment. The noses, which varied in size and shape just as greatly as people vary as individuals, it was very hard to imagine that people could really make broad social judgments simply by looking at somebody’s profile. I can never claim that I am completely free of any racial profiling on my own part, but the artist did a very good job at making an eye catching display that makes one consider just how irrational and damaging making such judgments are.

The film clips that addressed anti Semitism and portrayal of Jews in movies were partly moving and partly disturbing. Even in today’s media we accept a certain stereotypes about Jews to an extent, but this display pointed out some of the more troubling portrayals that have been put forth in recent memory. The British mini-series Jesus of Nazareth was made in the late seventies, in a time that I would have thought had a more enlightened view of the political correctness of the portrayal of Jews. Of course any retelling of the Passion story or anything dealing with the life of Jesus is going to be in dangerous territory in terms of anti-Semitism, because of the irreconcilable fact that Jews are considered to be responsible of the torture and death of Jesus (while ignoring the fact that Jesus himself was a Jew). The film examples of anti-Semitism are nothing new for those that pay attention to the stereotypes that are offered up in a more subtle form generally, but it is still troubling to look at the evidence when it is piled up in front of you in such a manner.

The only problem that I might have with the Jewish museum was that it refrained from dealing explicitly with the terrors that Viennese Jews in particular dealt with during the holocaust. It certainly acknowledge the suffering of the Jewish population as a whole, but it fails to truly delve into the atrocities that were dealt out to the Jews during the period of the Third Reich. This is largely congruent with the attitudes that I encountered throughout my stay in Vienna, and I hope that within the next several generations the Viennese will come to grips with a more realistic interpretation of their role in the destruction of their Jews during the Holocaust.

Karlskirche

August 14th

The Karlskriche Church in the Karlsplatz is one of the most impressive structures in Vienna, and never failed to catch my eye when I passed by it either on the trams or just walking around the city. It was a the perfect example of the baroque grandeur that exemplified certain areas of the city, and is indeed considered to be one of the most outstanding Baroque church structures north of the Alps. The view from the dome offered another exceptional example of the beauty of Vienna, and must have been all the more impressive in the context of the cityscape that the city used to resemble. I really enjoyed effect that the overlooking the church had overlooking the karlsplatz with the two original subway stations having been restored to the way that they had been when Otto Wagner first designed them.

The dedication of the Church to St. Charles Borromeo is a great indication of the Catholic nature of the building. Its dedication shows that it emphasizes doing good works for the community as Borromeo is remembered primarily for the good deeds that he did in helping plague victims during the most recent plague. The inside designs mostly illuminated the good deeds done by Borromeo through allegorical paintings and reliefs, with of course the usual emphasis on biblical themes and stories.

I also found it interesting that when it was built it offered a direct line of sight to the Hofburg, and until 1918 it was the Imperial Patron Parish Church. This added significance to the historical presence of the church makes a large difference to me, as I really enjoy imagining all of the rulers that we have been learning about attending weekly mass there. The incredibly ornate baroque architecture lent itself well to the fact that the royal family spent many Sundays there, as it is a great display of imperial wealth, and therefore imperial power. Any visiting diplomats or foreigners of importance would have undoubtedly been impressed by the styling of the church. The style fit the function perfectly, in addition to being an incredibly impressive display of architecture.

Infrastructure and Public transport

Growing up in California makes any semblance of an effective public transportation system something of an irregularity. The subway system in Vienna was very effective, and it was very nice to be able to ride pretty much all of the public transport with the month long pass without having to worry about being fined. It was almost frustrating that I was only checked once at the gate for my pass, because we paid fifty euro for the pass for the entire month. In light of this, I spent four days in Berlin riding the public transport system without ever buying a ticket. Not the smartest plan to be sure, but I was also hoping that the authorities there would be as lenient as the authorities in Vienna were to those that had been caught by the authorities without their tickets; twice classmates of mine were found to be without their tickets and the authorities simply asked them to buy a ticket at the next stop.

The infrastructure of Vienna is set up so that it can more easily accommodate a more centralized population, and seems to only recently have begun to include the outskirts of the city within the greater public transport system. I have wondered in the past why the United States does not have a better public transportation network, and I think the problem comes down to simple geographic layout. Besides incredibly metropolitan areas such as New York or Chicago, the feasibility of an effective public transportation network like the Ubahn in the German speaking countries that I visited is simply nonexistent. Los Angeles provides the most troubling example of all, as it is such a spread out city that every single resident is almost required to own a car if they are going to be able to get around the city in a timely manner. Because our national growth has been so exponential since the time that the automobile was popularized, it has simply been easier to build an extensive road system that allows the individual person or family to navigate the country for themselves. This didn’t seem to be such a problem until the environmental impact of such reliance on automobiles has become clearer and clearer, and I think over the next century or so we will see the development of a much more thorough and comprehensive public transit system. It is much more difficult to institute these sort of changes in a society that has been designed to accommodate one mode of travel than to craft and improve one that has been in existence for many years, but it has become clear that it will be necessary for the health of the planet to at least make an attempt.

This was particularly on display when I took the suggested random train ride through the streets of Vienna, stopping at random places to try to get a better feel for the city as a whole. It struck me that this would be a very difficult if not impossible task in most American cities, because even if public transportation (buses in particular) were available to take us to different remote areas of the city, they would be so infrequent that it would be a giant time commitment to do this. But in Vienna it was quite easy to take a tram out to a part of the city that you were unfamiliar with, and expect that another tram would be along to take you back in about 15 minutes or so.

When I was out in Vienna I got off at a couple of very beautiful areas that were reminiscent of the city center and the history that comes along with it. I walked through a park that had a few people napping, and laid down for a short while myself with the intention of trying not to look like the giant tourist that I usually come across as. However my pleasant stops were also slightly marred by the fact that I also got off at one or two stops that were clearly the seedier areas of the city. I have never felt particularly unsafe in any areas of Vienna, but that is also partly due to the fact that I am a large person that can come across as intimidating for those that don’t know me. However despite the fact that I didn’t necessarily feel as though my safety was being threatened, I still did not linger in these areas that contained an inordinate amount of liquor stores with bars of grates over the windows, and shops that had no qualms about advertising their sex merchandise (of course this is a common theme throughout the European cities that I have visited, which is probably more of an indication of the prude American society than the other way around).

I thought that the differences between the news coverage on CNN international and American CNN was interesting, but almost negligible in some senses. On my last trip to Europe I watched a lot of the BBC, but unfortunately we didn’t get that channel at either our dorms or at any of the hotels or hostels that I visited. I thought that the BBC was great for simply reporting the news without a bias or spin, and wasn’t too concerned with polarizing political debate because it acted as a true source for news rather than a device with which a certain agenda could be pushed. Of course American news coverage is notorious for espousing a certain slant in its reporting, with Fox leading the charge of course, but I thought that CNN international was drifting more toward the American news coverage that we are used to. I should say though that I think that CNN does a reasonably good job at remaining impartial compared to some of the other news outlets that are seemingly more popular.

I thought American CNN was a little bit more disposed to focus on the more negative aspects of the news while the international news did not dwell quite as extensively on those things. I was surprised by how much CNN international used negative storylines to advance the news, and it seemed as though they had transitioned to this style somewhat recently and were still getting used to it. The commercials advertised polarizing shows about financial shows in which pundits yell at the screen about what the viewers should do were highly reminiscent of their American counterparts, and at times the only way I could tell which version of CNN I was watching was by the accents that the pundits had.

Stephansdome

August 17th

The cathedral of St. Stephens has been my favorite ever since I first visited Vienna in 2004, so being back around the historic city center was something like going to visit an old friend, albeit a little bit older than most of my “old friends”. Something about the imposing nature of the architecture set so closely with the surrounding city gives the feeling of indomitable power, which of course I’m certain was exactly what the creators of the Cathedral were going for. Although I can’t honestly say that the design of St. Stephens is that noticeably different from many of the other imposing cathedrals that I have seen around Europe, I think because it was the first one that I saw and got to spend some time around it holds a special place within my memory; something of an image of what I imagine European Cathedrals to be.

Although I don’t usually have a particularly morbid nature, I must admit that the catacombs are my favorite part of visiting St. Stephens. Again, it is probably because it was the first place that I have seen actual human bones in such a state that I remember those catacombs particularly vividly. The “old” section has been restored quite recently (within the last 100 years at least) and holds the tombs of some of the more important people that have been interned there, although of course the Kaisergruft holds many more emperors and people of great power, and it is reminiscent of what I have come to expect from typical catacombs in very old and important churches. That section is very much like the tombs in the main Cathedral in Salzburg, and in fact when I went to Salzburg earlier on the trip I did something of a double take to be sure that I had not been there before.

The “new” section, however, dates back to the times of the most recent plague to hit Vienna. Some of the rooms had an indiscernible pile of human bones that included skulls and feet, and were usually topped with a grate that used to be at the level of the street. It was clear that families (or perhaps paid movers) had simply been told to dump the bodies into the grate in the city square when somebody succumbed to the plague. It looked as though these bodies hadn’t been touched since they had been filled with the victims of the horrible disease, and had simply been walled off when they were full to allow the bodies to decompose. For me this gave a startling view into Vienna as it was during the last plague; not as a place that was disrespectful of the dead by any means, but rather somewhere that was in a time of such crises that there was simply no other options than to do what needed to be done with the incredible overflow of bodies.

In slight contrast to the rooms with bones piled in random fashion, there were also plague rooms that were filled to the brim with bones that were neatly stacked like firewood. It seemed as though they began to make a concerted effort to consolidate the space that was being taken up by all of the rotting corpses, but I couldn’t help but wonder who exactly was responsible for the grisly task. And if they were dealing primarily with plague victims, wouldn’t there have been a great chance of contracting the disease themselves? My guess is that those that had to work at these tasks were generally the bottom rung of the societal ladder, but still to be assigned that job would be inconceivable into today’s world.

The view from the top of the tower offered a breathtaking view of the city, although we had to come back three different times in order to have a day that seemed suitable to get the best idea of the kind of view that the tower offered. It was pretty incredible, and I did my best to put myself back into the time that the tower was actually completed, and to imagine what the cityscape must have looked like before construction cranes dotted the skyline. I appreciate the fact that such a historical city requires constant upkeep to retain the structural integrity of such old buildings, but it got a little bit frustrating after a little while after every single view of the city that we had was somewhat obscured by the cranes. From the top of the hill adjacent to the city on or tour, from the Belvedere, from the Gloriette above Schonbrunn Palace; every fantastic view was marred slightly by the presence of the construction cranes.

Stephensdome as a symbol of Vienna made it particularly attractive as well. Although it seems like historical buildings are now often associated with their respective cities histories and/or beginnings, Stephensdome seems to exemplify this particularly well because of the incredibly long period of time that construction took place. The city center has been dominated by the Cathedral for nearly as long as Vienna has been a viable capital of the empire, and now it seems to stand as almost a monument to the fallen promises that the Habsburg Empire failed to deliver. The entire city of Vienna seemed to be designed to be the capital of a great empire, and now that it is supported primarily by the tourism there seems to be a certain amount of bitterness within the local population. This bitterness is likely inherited from the last several generations of Viennese that actually dealt with the fall of the empire, and the ensuing disgrace of being complicit to Hitler’s Third Reich, and therefore does not have any specific target or purpose. Rather it comes across as a general contempt for those that they consider to be uneducated in the “art” of being Viennese, from knowledge of the city’s customs to the specific inflections that German speakers find unique to Vienna. I think that over the next several generations these feelings of exclusion and bitterness will die out for the most part as the older generations die with them, because with each passing generation the dissatisfaction becomes less focused and more diluted. I hope for the sake of future travelers that this is true, because although I thoroughly enjoyed my time in Vienna, it was not thanks to the Viennese themselves.

The Leopold and the Belvedere

August 24th and 26th

Our visit to the Leopold was one of the more interesting museum tours that we took during the program, thanks largely in part to the commentary provided by Dr. O. Her enthusiastic ramblings (and I use this in the kindest sense) about Klimt really transmitted the sort of passion and feeling that his painting were supposed to portray. The fact that we spent about forty minutes sitting in front of his painting entitled “Death and Life” is a testament to the deep level of knowledge and interest that Dr. O has for Klimt, and I felt as though I really learned a lot from her.

“Death and Life” was especially interesting because it dealt exclusively with themes that are common across the entire spectrum of art, and she could bring to life Klimt’s personality and message through revealing how he personally dealt with the subjects. The first copy of the painting portraying death’s face shrouded in his cloak as opposed to the finished product that had his face out In something of a smile was indicative to the sort of transformation that he must have endured during the intervening years. Brian was sharp enough to point out that Klimt came back to the painting after four years in 1918, which is the exact span that the First World War encompassed. Anybody that lived in Europe (or indeed the world) could not have been unaffected by the unspeakable slaughter that took place during this conflict, even if they themselves were not directly involved. The addition of the swirling figures on the outskirts of life seemed to speak to his need to show that people refused to look at death directly, and when they do it is in something of a romantic light as demonstrated by the singular face that is staring directly at death. I have no doubts that Klimt felt as though the populace of Europe was failing to look at the death and destruction of the War in terms of the reality of the loss of human life, and that forgetting or ignoring was easier and yet more destructive as a societal tendency.

Seeing the sketch of Klimt’s original plans for the halls of the Viennese Art Society was also very telling of his personality, and made clear why they were rejected in the first place. The presence of the female form accompanied by men that looked like beasts could not have gone over well with the establishment of the day, all of which were undoubtedly men. But after learning about the Secession that Klimt and others led from the Society, it was an extremely interesting example of the point of schism between the two conflicting ideals. The artists of the Ringstrasse era had reached a diverging point, and Klimt’s sketch seemed to be a physical example of the differences between what art was and where art was going.

Beyond Klimt, the other artist that stood out for me was his contemporary Schiele. Although it seemed as though most were distinctly turned off by Schiele’s style and his clear obsession with his own physical form, I thought he was extremely interesting and talented, even if his paintings weren’t always what I would consider to be pleasing to the eye. It seemed as though as we moved through the exhibit featuring him, his paintings became much more tortured and abstract. I really enjoyed what I considered to be his pure emotional expression of his own tortured conscience, especially because he portrayed it in the most personal way possible; through the exhibition and exploitation of his own body. Although the subject could become tedious to a point, I could think of no more meaningful way for somebody to express their personal feelings about their inadequacies, triumphs, skills, failures, or fears than to repeatedly show these feelings through the raw contortions of one’s own physical form.

The Belvedere had some charms to it, particularly in the location and story behind it, but to my disappointment the only true attraction was the presence of Klimt’s infamous painting The Kiss. Jan did a very good job leading the tour, but for somebody who is an art philistine (such as myself) the majority of the works did not jump out at me as overly impressive. Of course this was after touring some of the most important art museums in the world in the Vienna Art History Museum next to the Hofburg complex and the Leopold Museum, so my views of what is impressive and important are certainly skewed. I suppose that I found the Leopold more interesting because it had all been collected by one person, which seems an absolutely incredible feat considering that Leopold had not been willed any of the works previously. I particularly enjoyed Dr. O’s little fun fact about how he asked for an expensive painting as his present upon completion of his studies rather than an automobile, which of course in retrospect was the absolute correct decision. It seems unbelievable that one person could have such an eye for art that eventually his tastes almost dictate the direction of the art culture, or at least dictate the artists whose works are soon to skyrocket in price.

The Art Nouveau works were quite interesting at the Leopold (in the lower sections of the museum), because they seemed to represent a shift within the art community as a whole. Jose Marie Auchentaller seemed to be a pioneer in terms of not only art style, but also the manner with which it was presented to the public. I found the magazine covers particularly interesting, because they detailed how Auchentaller designed the layout for the magazines and contributions were made by (now) extremely famous artists, including Gustav Klimt. It seemed incredible that in the first issue of their magazine they included a calendar with painting for every month of the year, which seems like quite a precursor to the sort of inserts that we are used to in today’s magazines. I had never really thought about where the form of modern magazine or periodical had first been pioneered, but it seems to me that they have their roots in the Secession of Viennese artists that we learned so much about.

The UN

08/19/09

Wednesday the 19^th was our scheduled trip to the United Nations office building in Vienna, one of the four main offices of the UN in the world. The primary functions of the United Nations in Vienna are focused on security and safety services, as well as a close working relationship with the United Nations Office on Drugs and Crime, which is also based within the International Complex in Vienna. I was particularly interested in this affiliate office, as the broad scope does not afford the office many opportunities to make direct contributions or differences in the drug and criminal affairs of member countries. Of course it is not their task to rid the world of drugs and crime, but rather to help guide nations toward the most beneficial stance on the issues possible.

The first room that we were brought into was the conference room, which was immediately familiar from any UN proceeding that we had witnessed on television. The most interesting part of the proceedings in this room is the necessity to have many interpreters that translate into the five official languages of the UN. This job immediately strikes me as being incredibly difficult and stressful, not only because of the need to know multiple languages but for the amount of pressure and importance put upon giving a quick and accurate translation. A great example of when that can go wrong was not long ago in Nairobi, when Secretary of State Hillary Clinton was asked what “Mr. Clinton’s opinion would be, coming from Mrs. Clinton”. She was understandably very upset by the question, and responded angrily with “I am secretary of State, not my husband. He does not speak for me and I do not speak for him.” Unfortunately the question had been mistranslated, as the intention had been to ask what Mr. Obama thought; a much more valid question considering that the Secretary of State is essentially an envoy of the President. The translator, in her understandable hurry, confused the former president with the current president in a way that completely distorted the intended question.

Our first speaker spoke about the work of the IAEA, or the International Atomic Energy Agency. He was an interesting speaker, but not necessarily because he was full of information that would answer the questions that we had for him. Rather it was illuminating because one could see exactly the sort of fine line that the United Nations has to tow in terms of public relations, and it was very difficult to get a straight and candid answer. He did explain the reason for this quite well though, as he reminded our group that the United Nations is not a separate political entity, but rather a representation of all of the countries that participate. There would be no United Nations without the participating countries, and the function of the UN is to espouse the official line that has been decided by these Nations. While this certainly made for some frustratingly bland answers, it was revealing of the sort of policies that dictate the UN’s activities.

Probably the most frustrating of the answers given by the IAEA spokesman was in response to the question posed about nuclear weapons that have gone missing following the collapse of the USSR in the late 1980s. He stuck to the official position that there are no nuclear warheads that are unaccounted for, and categorically refused to discuss the possibility that this might not be the case. I suppose it is better for the UN to espouse this line of thinking rather than a candid admission along the lines of, “yes there are warheads that are unaccounted for and we have absolutely no idea where they might be, if they’re storage facilities are secure and up to code, or whether or not they might have been sold on the black market to foreign dictators.” He did admit that there is a large amount of nuclear material that has gone missing, which was refreshing to hear because of his previous refusals to talk about actual warheads, and stressed the importance of the danger of what we know as “dirty bombs”. Dirty bombs are regular explosive devices that have nuclear material attached, not with the intention of creating a nuclear reaction but rather to spread the material over the landscape and contaminate everything within its radius. While not quite as terrifying as an actual nuclear explosion, a dirty bomb being detonated anywhere in the world would have disastrous consequences on any living thing that came into contact with it.

On further reflection I suppose it makes sense that the Un could not really speculate as to the possible existence of renegade nuclear warheads. Firstly, if an authoritarian regime that was unfriendly toward the USA came into possession of one of these weapons they would undoubtedly use this as leverage in any negotiations that were taking place. He said that the main focuses of the IAEA at this point was to prevent the spread of nuclear proliferation, with particular regard to the governments of North Korea and Iran. He gave a semi-detailed explanation of what the process for allowing certain countries to possess nuclear weapons is, and emphasized the governments that exist in these states do not come close to meeting those standards. The most abstract of these ideas was the necessity for the prospective country to have a certain level of stability over a long period of time, which of course is almost impossible to quantify and is left to the discretion of the UN Security Council. It is no surprise that under any definition neither of the aforementioned states could be considered stable.

The most interesting thing that I thought our IAEA representative had to say was in regards to the continued use of civil nuclear technology, which has vast application toward the development of third world countries. He warned against the view of nuclear technology as some sort of savior or catalyst to propel previously destitute countries into the 21^st century, because in some parts of the world the knowledge of nuclear secrets is almost indistinguishable from being considered a player on the world stage. He emphasized the fact that although it can go a long way toward providing the populace with electrical power and the ability to maintain their infrastructure, other methods of civic improvement need to be focused on first before the practical application of this technology can be realized.

Mauthausen

08/25/09 Mauthausen

Tuesday August 25^th was the day that our class visited the Mauthausen Concentration Camp, and I sincerely doubt that every one of us will remember the experience for the rest of our lives. Set up in the rolling hills occupied mostly by farms, the camp is an imposing stone building that seems to jut out from the hillside like a scar upon the landscape. The view of the town and river below would be quite beautiful if it wasn’t for the knowledge of everything that happened in the camp, and in a sense this gave the whole place an extremely sickening feeling. For some reason it is almost easier to imagine a work camp in the depths of Siberia, under horrid conditions and surrounded by a bleak landscape that would reflect the horrors within the camp. But Mauthausen would have been a beautiful picnic spot under different circumstances; the sun was shining, the grass rolled out across the adjacent hills, and a neighboring quarry had a small pond that would seem idyllic for a relaxing afternoon.

Although the setting wouldn’t betray the sort of carnage that took place there, everybody knew the sort of information that we were going to get when we took our tour. The first thing one sees after walking through the outer gate of the camp is the memorial garden, which was a large and beautiful collection of memorials donated by various countries, generally commemorating their national brethren that died at Mauthausen. We didn’t spend any time at the beginning looking around this garden, but rather took a turn through the main gate into the actual prison part of the camp. The wall along the right of the entrance was peppered with plaques that also remembered those that struggled and died for the liberation of the camp, and the one that immediately caught the eye was the tribute to the Americans that liberated the camp, being as it was in English. Looking along the rest of the wall yielded more surprising sights, such as a tribute to the homosexuals that died in the camp, Russians that were persecuted there, and political dissidents that suffered the ultimate punishment as well. It became clear from looking at the wall that this camp was not what I had expected, which was a work camp almost exclusively for deported Jews. Rather Mauthausen was one of the largest camps in the early stages of the war, and housed mostly political prisoners or prisoners of war, a large portion of which were Spanish Partisans that had been deported by Franco. I had very little idea that the alliance between Franco and Hitler had run so deep as to have an agreement for the handling of Franco’s political prisoners, and this immediately gave the camp a different feel than what I had expected.

Looking at the camp through the lens of a political prisoner work camp didn’t really change the horrors of the experience for me, but it changed the overall tone of the tour nonetheless. Our tour guide was a young Austrian that seemed to have a great deal of knowledge about the Camp, which he had been giving tours of for over four years. He informed us at the end of the tour that he chose to join the Austrian Civil Service as opposed to joining the armed forces, a decision that all men of age have to make. His association with Mauthausen did not end when his term of service expired, as he felt he had the responsibility to inform people of what happened there. However he made it very clear that he did not think the importance lies in showing people certain sites where thousands of people were beaten or murdered, but rather to convey an understanding of the events so that we might be able to prevent such things from happening in the future. He was a very bright though appropriately somber young man, and he took care to remind us that the sort of atrocities we were learning about are not limited to the Third Reich, but are in fact still being perpetrated in certain areas of the world today.

The areas of the camp that brought the point home the hardest for me were the areas that saw the most repetition, and therefore the most humanity (or lack thereof). The showers would not be considered to be one of the more horrifying areas of the camp, but the knowledge that every single person that came into the camp was herded through this area in a state of humiliation gave a very palpable sense of reality to the situation. It’s difficult for me to look at a wall full of plaques and truly understand that every prisoner was beaten or humiliated against it, largely because it is full of memorials and outside in the brightness of the surrounding day. Down in the showers, it was much easier to lose oneself in the historical moment so to speak, and to try to identify with those that were there 65 years ago. The small gas chamber had the same effect on me, largely because of the tiny size of the room that it occupied. Our group of about 27 could hardly all stand within it comfortably, and it was difficult to imagine over 100 people being squeezed into the room under the pretense of a shower. But Mauthausen was not a death camp, which for me almost made the gas chambers there even more horrifying than something that one might see at Auschwitz; they were built toward the end purely out of necessity. The camps to the east were in danger of being overrun by the advancing Russian forces, so the surplus of prisoners flowing from the east necessitated the installation of a small gas chamber within the camp that had previously been intended as a work camp. Of course working oneself to death is not exactly more appealing than the fate of those that went to the chambers, but the coldly calculated assessment of what needed to be done to control the influx of prisoners at Mauthausen gave me a feeling of indescribable horror.

Unfortunately for the memory of those that perished in the camp, there was an incident during our tour in which we saw another tourist acting completely inappropriately. He was having his picture taken (while smiling) next to one of the crematoriums, and his kids were loudly chasing each other and being disrespectful in the room in which pictures of lost loved ones peppered the walls. This was especially disturbing, because I had spent about ten minutes looking over the names and faces of those that adorned these walls, paying special attention to the birth and death days of the deceased. My eye was drawn to those that were born in the early 1920s, and died in the early to mid 1940s, as they were about 21 (my age). It was not difficult for me to imagine my own face on that wall, my own face looking back from a faded photograph that could not in any way convey the sort of person that the camp would have turned me into by the time of my death. Those that died in the camp were not the same people that posed for the military photographer all those years ago; they had been denigrated to the worst most wretched beings possible. They had been stripped of their humanity and despite the loving remembrances of those that knew them in a former life, many died as somebody almost wholly different than their true selves.

No matter how horrible the camp itself was, nothing could quite prepare me for the trip down into the quarry. The prisoners at Mauthausen were used for a variety of construction projects in the forty-something satellite camps in the area, but the majority of the labor was devoted to a granite quarry that was adjacent to the main Mauthausen complex. The quarry was accessible only through a steep and treacherous staircase known to the prisoners as the “stairway to death”, which in its current state is a difficult staircase to navigate. But there is no doubt that the staircase that the prisoners were forced to use was much worse, consisting of uneven steps that could be up to half a meter high, jagged rocks, and an incredibly steep incline that would make falling backwards extremely hard to avoid when one was carrying an 80-90 pound piece of granite on their back. But the quarry was not a desolate area that gave off the feeling of impending death; rather it felt as though if you stumbled upon the area on a weekend hike you would decide it a perfect place to camp or have a meal. Had it not been for the tour that we had just had, I likely would have walked down the stairs, looked around at the quarry for a moment, then walked back up.

As it was, we knew exactly the sort of atrocities that were perpetrated at the bottom of that ravine. Both the tour guide and a short movie we watched at the camp had talked about the cliffs overlooking the quarry, and the way that prisoners were unceremoniously and often randomly thrown off by the SS. We knew about the group of Jewish prisoners that were led straight from the train to the edge of the cliffs, and pushed off in a single file line so that the person in front was invariably moved off the edge by the prisoner behind them. We knew that while most died from the fall, those that survived tumbled the rest of the way into the seemingly tranquil pond below to drown helplessly. The idyllic setting was shattered when one considered exactly the number of people that were killed from heat exhaustion on that spot, or the number of people that had floated in that tiny pond; forever staining it with the crimes of the perpetrators. At no time did I feel physically ill during the tour, but while at the bottom of the quarry overlooking that pond I had to take deep breaths to keep my head from delving too deep into what that spot had witnessed.

I was glad that we went to Mauthausen, and I’m thankful that I’ve had the experience of seeing a very small piece of what the Third Reich used to perpetrate the Holocaust upon Europe. I know that I will never be able to truly understand what went on there, and how it really felt to be either a victim or a liberator at the time that these horrendous events were actually occurring. I’m lucky that I’ve been instilled with the proper respect for the seriousness of the memorial, and was able to act accordingly and get everything that I could out of the site. Kurt Vonnegut said it better than I could ever hope to;

“There is nothing intelligent to say about a massacre. Everybody is supposed to be dead, to never say anything or want anything ever again. Everything is supposed to be very quiet after a massacre, and it always is, except for the birds.”

I thought of this quote often during my visit to Mauthausen.

Wien Museum and Ringstrasse

08/18/09 & 08/20/09

German word of the 18th is Offen, which means Frank

German word of the 20th is gesund, which means healthy

On the 18^th, a day before our trip to the UN, I checked out the Wien museum with a group of fellow students after class. It was not as in depth on any one aspect of Vienna’s history as a specialized museum such as the Military History Museum, or the Museum of Art History, but the overall effect that the Wien Museum had was good in painting a picture of the long and complicated history of Vienna. Having just talked about Biedermeir art in class that day, the examples that they had in the Wien museum were very interesting to behold. If we had not just learned about that style of art, I would assume that it depicts more or less real life events that were commonplace for the time. But the knowledge that this sort of art was largely fanciful and idealistic depiction of the sort of life that was actually being lived by the lower middle classes of the time. Much like the romanticizing of the American countryside during the early to mid-eighteen hundreds, artists of the time were commissioned to paint scenes that were very appealing to those that wanted to revel in what they considered to be something of a paradise lost, but in fact the romanticizing of the actual life goes beyond what life was really like during the time.

Of particular interest to me were the many depictions of the cityscape of Vienna at different time periods, as it’s interesting to see what we consider to be a very small part of Vienna depicted as the entirety of the city. The wooden models of the city also gave excellent perspective to the actual size of the territory, and what it might have meant to have a prolonged siege in such a small space. The massive depictions of the city’s old walls gave the feeling that the artist may have been exaggerating slightly for the benefit of whoever commissioned the painting (as it was often the city council itself), adding to the pride and security one felt with being Viennese.

After having talked about Prince Metternich in class the day that we visited the museum, I was intrigued as to how he would be remembered in a museum that was dedicated entirely to the history of Vienna. He was the greatest diplomat of his time, but he had been vilified for generations for being a simple reactionary who was too involved in the foreign affairs of other countries. Of course many also viewed him as an enemy of progress, an argument that had its merits, but 19^th century historians especially espoused this theory to the point where Metternich’s name became synonymous with systemic opposition to progress. The Wien museum seemed determined to show the other side of Metternich, which was that of the first modern statesman who had what we would consider to be a global political view. They stressed his commitment to the balance of power within Europe, and his masterful diplomatic style that became something of a model for modern language used for diplomacy today. It gave me the distinct feeling that Vienna was willing to accept Metternich as a great statesman now that the consensus among historians became more favorable. While this can’t exactly be considered hypocritical, I feel as though it is indicative of the sort of attitude that Vienna has toward the more controversial parts of its history.

Taking the Ringstrasse tram the following day also conjured memory of the Wien museum, and the broad history that resulted in the eclectic style that lines the former city walls. Seeing all of the depictions of the town with the massive walls still standing gave great context for seeing something such as the Castle Gate, which is the only city gate from the 19^th century walls still standing. Landmarks such as the Castle Gate, the old barracks that had to be moved closer to the palace after the revolution of 1848, and the old wings of the university really give an idea of the age of the area, and the momentous change in the scope of the city that took place when the walls came down in favor of the Ringstrasse.

After making it through the primarily historical area of the ringstrasse, I thought it was very interesting that Vienna has seemingly made a point of keeping very important modern building either on or very close to the Ringstrasse, which seems like an attempt to keep the prestige of the Ringstrasse on par with today’s world. Buildings such as the OPEC headquarters and the Urania observatory convey this modern feeling of importance that connects the two eras very effectively, although they depart from the traditional architectural styles that I previously identified with the infamous street.

The most oddly placed building/monument was a monument to the Nazi occupation. It was placed where the Gestapo headquarters were during the period of occupation, but that site also happens to be directly in front of the oldest remaining church in Vienna. The church dates back to the 11^th century, which seems like such an amazingly long period of time to survive the momentous events that have rocked Vienna over the course of the last 1000 years. Coupled with the incredibly close proximity to the Gestapo headquarters, I would have thought that the church would have suffered significant damage at some point or another. The monument to Lueger was also an extremely interesting bit of history to consider, knowing as we do about his blatant anti-Semitism. Of course this likely contributed to his popularity while he was in office in Vienna, but what the tour chose to focus on was his building of infrastructure and the raised standard of living under him. The most shocking number to hear for me was the fact that the population of Vienna under Lueger was over 2.2 million, whereas the population today is about 1.8 million. With increased population across the globe, it is always surprising to hear that the city could have been more crowded back then than it is today. It does speak to the influence that Lueger had, and his effectiveness as an administrator, but it is almost impossible for students such as us to praise a man that was in favor of institutionalized anti-Semitism.

Prague Weekend

08/15/09 – 08/17/09

The second weekend of our trip had arrived, and many of us took advantage of the extra day off to take a short trip to a nearby city. Chris, Sarah, Melodie, Zach, Tyler, Alex, Laurel, and I decided to go to Prague and experience some of what the Czech Republic has to offer, and we were not disappointed. On the outside the city of Prague reminded me powerfully of Vienna, with a similar layout that was based around something of an Old Town city center, and architecture that would catch you off guard with its scope and beauty. Of course the attraction that many tourists flock to see is the famous Astronomical Clock in the Old City center, which (according to a tour guide) was the most overrated tourist attraction in all of Europe (followed closely by the Glockenspiel in Munich). I enjoyed seeing the clock make its transition, but I had to agree that the immense crowd that had gathered to watch the thing was far too big to justify how anti-climactic the actual event was. That in itself was something to behold; an entire crowd of people walking away looking slightly disappointed by what they had just witnessed.

It was almost oppressively hot for the two and a half days that we were in Prague, which did not deter (some) of us from trekking up to the famous castle that overlooks Prague from atop a hill. Laurel and I got lost on the subway system in our attempts to get to the correct stop, and as a result we ended up having to walk extremely fast in order to catch the Changing of the Guard that was supposed to occur at noon. The Changing of the Guard actually occurs every hour, but at noon there is a special ceremony/flourish that was very interesting to see. We arrived just as they were beginning the surprisingly long process of salutes and marches, accompanied by a six piece brass band that trumpeted out at each interval. A crowd of several hundred people gathered around the castle’s first square to have a look at the ceremony, which made viewing a little difficult, but it was a very interesting process to witness nonetheless. It made me think about how long this ceremony had been performed for, and what had been added or subtracted from it over the years. Of course I have no doubt that the crowds of people watching the event must have been a relatively recent development (within the last 70 years or so I would imagine), but the guards remain very traditional and extremely serious in their work. I doubt that the castle guards in the past had much use for such an elaborate ceremony every day, but something similar was likely used for special occasions. We didn’t have time to take the castle tour, and trying to research the history of the Castle Guards invariably led me to a site that said “take the castle tour for more information.”

One of the significant historical sites that we were determined to find was the plaque commemorating those that were killed in retaliation of the Second Defenestration of Prague in 1618. The Imperial Governors of Prague that had been assigned by Ferdinand II, who had been elected to succeed the aging Matthias as King of Bohemia, were tried and found guilty of violating Rudolf II’s decree of freedom of religion within the Bohemian States, and subsequently thrown out of a window that was about 30 meters high. Of course Ferdinand did not take kindly to his Imperial Governors being treated in such a way, despite the fact that they miraculously survived the fall by landing in a dry moat that had a large pile of horse manure in the bottom. Many of the leaders of the revolt were summarily executed in the Old City Square in Prague, and this event seemed to symbolize the cities ongoing resistance to Habsburg influence and control. This is extremely odd when considering that here in Vienna the Habsburgs are celebrated at almost every turn, so it seems natural that they would be respected throughout what was their former kingdom. Not so in the Czech Republic, at least in Prague, as they clearly did not associate themselves as being former subjects of the Habsburgs, almost in a similar way that the Viennese do not consider themselves to have been subjects of the Third Reich. Of course the two cannot really be compared in light of the extremely different times that they were in, but the sentiment seems similar to somebody simply observing how a city chooses to remember its past. We never did succeed in finding the plaque, but the lack of Habsburg remembrance was enough to show what the city thought about its past association with the family, and their continued resistance to the very idea. It seems extremely odd to an American that people could hold on to their animosity and political affiliations for almost 400 years, but our country is much younger so it’s almost impossible to associate with that sort of tradition.

The people in Prague seemed much more accepting of tourism on the whole, and were friendlier at restaurants, bars, tourist points, etc. It was easy to see in the fact that the menus were invariably in several languages, and the waiters/waitresses were willing to return a smile more often than not. It was very refreshing after dealing with the Viennese attitude for a couple of weeks, but in some sense it made the city feel like more of a tourist destination than Vienna. I certainly prefer Prague’s attitude to Vienna’s, but I can see how it can almost detract from the uniqueness and historical significance of the city. I don’t think that the Viennese are thinking about preserving their city’s integrity when they are being rude, but the overall affect can make Vienna feel like a more preserved city of old.

Don Giovanni

08/14/09

German word of the day is dei dir, which means at your place

The evening of Friday the 14^th was our much anticipated trip to the opera to see the closing performance of Don Giovanni. Every member of our group got dressed up as classy as we could, and we headed out to the theater on the Naschmarkt near our classroom. The first thing that struck me about the Viennese in their evening finery was a distinctly more courteous demeanor in comparison to the indifference usually displayed in day to day life. This was quite surprising to me, because I had the preconception that those that would be attracted to the opera would also have a greater tendency toward being dismissive. After getting return smiles from several people that I got into close quarters with, I decided that the Viennese were probably more willing to be kind to somebody that they figured to be of a better stock, such as somebody that is dressed up nicely and going to the opera. When out and about in the town they could easily see us for what we were; tourists that wanted nothing better than to waste their precious time. But here at the opera I was just a smiling young man that had on decent clothes and was doing something cultured, and I decided that this must be why they were seemingly more predisposed toward friendliness. Of course, it could have just been a coincidence.

Knowing the basic story of Don Giovanni made watching the opera a perfectly bearable experience, but it was my first experience with prolonged opera-watching, which as most know can be extremely trying. Fortunately for us, the cast was so incredible that they could carry the show for anybody with even a passing interest in music, which of course I have. The lead actor was particularly impressive, and as I was lucky enough to sit next to Laurel (who actually performs in operas) I knew for sure that he was beyond talented. The most enjoyable parts of the show all featured Leporello, especially the scenes in which he is bantering back and forth with Don Giovanni. Of course the infamous “List” aria was my favorite part, the modern take on the play made Leporello’s antics all the funnier. Being able to throw around lingerie and bring out beautiful women as examples made the scene entirely clear from start to finish, regardless of the fact that I can neither speak Italian nor read German.

The most confusing part of the opera was without a doubt the ending, which seemed different from the version that we read beforehand. Of course in a modern adaptation of the opera it makes sense that not everything is exactly as it was originally, but it was especially confusing for those of us that could not understand what was going on to begin with. The first confusing thing was the cast’s appearance of great age in the final scene, when I had been under the impression that they were the same age as they had been the entire show. I suppose this must have been done to show that Don Giovanni never repents, even after so much time has passed, but I think that the message would have been just as strong if he had remained the same age. The statue of the Commendatore bursts through the floorboards rather than knocking on the door, which is understandable but the effect was somewhat diminished by the fact that the “statue” seemed to have trouble breaking through the floorboards. This lead to the slightly embarrassing moment of a disembodied hand appearing from nowhere to help clear the path, but sometimes those sorts of things are necessary to keep the show running along. I had also been under the impression that they would use the Concluding Chorus to clarify what the moral of the story was, as is very common in modern performances of the show. Of course not being an opera enthusiast I cannot really judge as to whether this would have improved the show or not, it was still slightly confusing that the show just seemed to end after Don Giovanni’s descent into hell.

All in all the cast more than deserved the fifteen minute standing ovation that they received at the end of the show, particularly because it was the final performance of a long run. I was incredibly lucky to have this show be my first opera experience, and if I ever have a second opera experience I will know to have the entire story down pat before setting foot in the theater.

The Raxalpe Trip

08/11/09 – 08/13/09

We left for our journey to Raxalpe on Tuesday the 11^th, and the subsequent journey is as difficult to top as any of the amazing adventures that we have had so far. The early departure time coupled with the enthusiastic excess of those in the back of the bus starting at about 9am took something of a toll on the spirits of those that didn’t indulge in spirits quite so early, but this was soon overcome by the excitement of the journey. Our first stop was in Eisenstadt, the seat of the Esterhazy Hungarian noble family. The Esterhazy’s primary claim to fame is their patronage of world famous composer Joseph Haydn, which they are sure to point out on every street corner, museum, sidewalk, wall, umbrella, pet, drainage system, etc. It reminded me powerfully of the emphasis that Salzburg put on being the home of one Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, and elicited the same reaction from me. I really don’t like being bombarded with the knowledge that the only thing that their tourism focuses on is being the home of Haydn, as the town seemed much more interesting than just that one small piece of information. The Museum devoted to Haydn was an unfathomable mix of historically significant items from Haydn’s time, and extremely odd contemporary pieces that were meant to compliment them. This fusion of old and new failed spectacularly in my opinion, and the effect of the museum was completely diminished due to the weird art that stood next to a composition that was written in Haydn’s actual hand. Haydn did not need all of this weird stuff to emphasize his genius; they could have simply devoted the museum to his life and work, as well as those of his patrons, and it would have been a much more enjoyable and informative experience. Those of us that saw the “avant-garde” installation of a video of a naked woman trapped beneath a small piece of Plexiglas in one of the far off corners of the museum understand the extent of the weirdness that permeates from the “Haydn” museum.

The second part of the tour was far more interesting in my opinion, as we walked through the former Jewish quarter and visited an extremely interesting looking church that Haydn first performed several masses in. The church featured an incredibly extensive collection of the Stations of the Cross, with life size wooden figures depicting every station throughout the church. The most telling of the stations was the condemnation of Jesus by the Jewish judges behind him, as they were dressed in the traditional Jewish garb of the day. It was a not-so-subtle message to those making pilgrimages to the church and the citizens of Eisenstadt as to who was responsible for the death of Jesus, and who their anger might be directed at if they felt powerfully about the suffering of their lord. It seems like such an obvious ploy when viewed through our eyes, but at the time it would have sent a very powerful message to somebody who had just walked hundreds of miles to see these incredible wood figures that depicted the brutality of what Jesus went through in no uncertain terms. To make the jump from anger at the Jews in Jesus’ time to anger at the Jews walking the streets of the day would not have been very difficult, and would have likely been readily evident in their subsequent treatment.

Our meal at the bier garden in Eisenstadt proved that it was not just the grumpy Viennese that harbored a certain distaste for Americans (or perhaps just all tourists in general), as our waiter was undoubtedly the rudest person that I have had to deal with so far on the trip. For those of us that ate there, it was clear from the very beginning that we were nothing but an inconvenience to him. He attempted to overcharge Professor Stuart, refused to bring our table an extra spoon before counting the spoons on the table to ensure that we weren’t spoon thieves, and seemed to sigh heavily each time a request was made of him. Now I’m not thick enough to think that all waiters are as rude as he was, because there are jerks in Europe just like there are Jerks in America, but I must say that it seems unfathomable to me that an American waiter would ever behave in such a fashion. I think that Chris had a good insight when he pointed out that our motto in America is invariably something along the lines of “the customer is always right”, whereas in Europe that is not necessarily so. We go to a restaurant expecting to be waited on, when in fact here it seems as though it’s a favor for them to let us sit down and eat their food. It makes sense when one stops to consider that the difference may lie at the root of the culture rather than their distaste of tourists, but in my opinion it does not excuse treating somebody like dirt, particularly if that person is about to pay a significant amount for the service.

Undeterred by the rudeness of our Eisenstadt waiter, we restarted our journey bound for the unrealistically beautiful Raxalpe, and the world’s steepest gondola ride. The ride was relatively easy and tame, as the gondola never rose much higher than fifty feet from the face of the mountain, and the hotel at the top was a perfect image of what one would imagine a small secluded Alpine hotel would look like. The bartenders up here had almost no English it seemed, which made me wonder how often English speakers made the trip up to this secluded spot. I did hear at least one other family speaking English over the weekend however, which made me think that this place was probably a little more well known than I had thought at first.

The view from the hotel was like something out of a postcard, and the ensuing hike on Wednesday provided some of the most incredible panoramic scenes I have ever seen. It really gave one the feeling of the sort of culture that must have existed in this region before industrialization changed everything, and the incredible isolation that people would have lived in. I doubt that these areas were populated by anything more than farmers and the like, or rather herders that let their cattle run up into these regions if they needed to. But the incredible difficulty of surviving in that environment gave a good look at how the mountain culture of Austria would have been vastly different than those that developed in the cities.

The return journey from Raxalpe featured a couple of very interesting stops, the first and foremost being the Hinterbruehl Seegrotte. The underground lake is the largest in Europe, and was the result of a mining accident that allowed approximately 4million gallons of water to flood the cave. By far the most interesting aspect of the cave was its history as a Nazi war plane factory during the Second World War, particularly the fact that it was used specifically for building the fuselage of jet fighters. Of course jet fighters were never used during the War, but if they had been successfully tested and deployed by the Nazis the entire outcome of the affair could have been different. Walking through the cold caves let one really imagine the Jewish slaves from the Mauthausen Concentration camp working under horrid conditions, working on machines that could have possibly turned the tide of the war in the favor of their enslavers. Of course it was an ideal location, as it prevented the factory from being bombed by the Allies, as they had been targeting plane factories from the early stages of the war. I had read about the Seegrotte before, but never realized how close to Vienna it was or how easy it would be to see that part of the country’s history.

Another highlight on the way back to Vienna was stopping at Castle Liechtenstein, which was unfortunately closed. It was an extremely well preserved example of a medieval castle, whose crumbling medieval ramparts and still intact tower gave the feeling of an immensely old building and a still functioning fortress simultaneously. It would have been really great to get to go inside and look around, but we had to content ourselves with walking around the outside and admiring the castle gates. I thought it was a great location for a castle, as the wooded region surrounding it sloped downwards somewhat sharply, which would have made any form of frontal assault difficult.

The entire Alps journey was something that I will never forget, as much for the people that I shared it with as the actual experiences. We’ve been extremely lucky to have a group of people that genuinely seem to get along, and have not divided into exclusive groups to a large extent. I can only hope that our final weeks provide something close to the amount of memories that we have accumulated in such a short time.

Schonbrunn Palace

08/10/09

German word of the day is Beantwarten, which means to answer

I spent my Sunday checking out the Schonbrunn palace with Brian, and although I have been to the Habsburgs summer palace once before it was the first time I actually took the time to go on the Palace tour and went to the zoo on the grounds. The tour was especially interesting because it gave a great look at the ways that Maria Theresea and later Franz Josef I lived and worked while at Schonbrunn. The last time that I visited the palace I had no knowledge of the reigns of either of these incredibly influential rulers, and therefore the palace had a subsequently less dramatic affect on the way that I viewed the royal court of the Habsburgs. I had never made the connection between Schonbrunn and Versailles, and even if I had known at the time it would have meant far less and made far less sense to me why such a connection was so important during those times. The fluctuation of importance placed on Royal opulence is a great indicator of the political climate of the times, and it makes a lot of sense why a woman such as Maria Theresea needed to establish her own dramatic palace as a symbol of her rule.

The palace tour itself was not the best that I have been on; it did show of the Rococo style that was so popular with Maria Theresea and her successors, but it didn’t quite capture the feeling of a house of the daily life of Royalty. One exception would have been the study of Franz Josef, in which he worked all day with the same doggedness that endeared him to so many Austrians. The study was very plain and straightforward, which made it easy to envision the tedium that must have taken place there every day, which for me was a much more powerful image than the opulence that surrounded the rest of the palace. The unbelievable amount of personnel that were required to run the palace during the summer (about 1300) gave the palace something of an empty feeling in my opinion, as the vast majority of people that would have been there toiled away on menial tasks, rather than enjoying their chambers or lolling in the rooms that we were ushered through. To me a tour of the servants quarters, the kitchens, or even the stables with descriptions of the sort of tasks that had to be performed over and over would have made the palace a more accessible place to understand. This thought struck me particularly when looking at a chandelier that must have contained about 50 candles (now lit with electricity of course), and how much work would have to go into lighting, replacing, cleaning, and fixing the chandelier simply for the purpose of the royal family eating dinner there.

The zoo was very similar to those that we are used to in the States, the only real difference being a couple of animals that I hadn’t seen before.

If the historical significance of Schonbrunn was lost on me during my first visit, it was entirely clear this time around. The comparison Versailles was much more important to the original founders than I ever could have predicted, as it was really the entire impetus for making the palace in the first place. The original plan called for Schonbrunn to dwarf its French counterpart, but of course it was considered too expensive to be financed at the time of its conception, so a much more modest version resulted. After Maria Theresea renovated and expanded the palace, it was second only to Versailles in scope and opulence, which made me wonder whether this fact may have irked the original planners almost as much as not having a palace in the first place. If the main point in the first place was to dwarf Versailles, wouldn’t coming up just short be just as bad or worse as not even trying in the first place?

The other historical significance that really struck me was Napoleon’s residence of over two months at Schonbrunn during the first taking of Vienna. I have long been interested in the rise and conquests of the French general, and I had never really connected his conquest of Austria with the symbolic taking of its most expansive royal palace. Napoleon was certainly not shy about leaving his mark wherever he was, and the obelisks with French eagles on the tops became much more obvious with this thought in mind. His reach extended across most of Europe of course, but whenever two histories collide in such a real and tangible way for me it is very gratifying. Connecting history to concurrent events has always been a little difficult for me, and when the dots do manage to connect through my muddled mind it can provide some “ah-ha” moments.

Being that we decided to go on a Sunday, the palace was absolutely flooded with tourists. Of course Brian and I were as much tourists as anybody there, but it did make drifting back into the world of the Habsburgs a little more difficult. A screaming baby throughout a palace tour can make looking in on their private world a little less of a tangible experience, just like constantly dodging out of fellow travelers’ photos can distract from truly contemplating those that walked these steps hundreds of years before. This didn’t dim the experience of Schonbrunn too much, but it is a similar feeling that I have gotten at many historical sites that I have visited over the years. There isn’t really anything for it, except to just try to get the most possible out of the situation that is presented, which is what I will continue to try to do.

Return to Klosterneuberg

08/08/09

Picture: Closet of Skulls adorned with fancy headdresses

Today Chris, Tim, Sarah, Brian, and I returned to Klosterneuberg to meet up with Father Clemens for a tour of the Abbey’s treasury. It was housed in only two rooms, but contained some of the most ornate and impressive pieces of art I have ever seen, in addition to some truly fascinating relics. Afterwards, Father Clemens was kind enough to invite us upstairs for a drink, so we stayed and talked for a couple more hours with him in his quarters. He lived in what amounted to a three room apartment, but it was very nice (especially for a priest) and had all of the amenities that we would expect from a normal residence. Probably the most surprising thing upon walking in was a large flat-screen TV in the corner of the room, and although it was not hooked up to cable he did have quite a few stacks of DVDs littered nearby. I got a kick out of his admission that Buffy the Vampire Slayer had a large following at the Monastery; I don’t know if this is an indication of their distaste for vampires or simply just an indication that they enjoy the writing, but I like to think that the former had something to do with it.

The most illuminating thing about the return trip to the Monastery was the revelation (for me) that the men that lead lives so seemingly different from my own were in fact not all that different on the inside. Father Clemens was perfectly willing to talk about the pettiness and drama that goes on within their walls, and although they are much more civil on the whole than the society that I grew up in, they are certainly not above the same sorts of tiffs that we are used to. While he showed us set after set of absolutely incredible Vestments that were stored in the treasury, I asked him whether or not there were ever problems with the appropriate vestments not fitting some of the Brethren, and he seemed to sigh and say “Ohhhh yes. One of our Brothers, wonderful man, but he must be upwards of 400 lbs! I don’t’ understand how he does it, leading the life that we do.” I found the image of overweight canons squeezing into ancient vestments for special occasions quite funny, as it amounts to something like a game of dress-up; albeit with very serious and holy men. The ancient vestments even carried certain historical importance and meaning to the Monastery, so the inability of some of the brethren to fit into different vestments could lead to interesting situations in which some wear vestments that might outrank those worn by a higher member.

In addition to the survival of medieval dress-up games, of particular interest to me was the inside information that he divulged about the politics ad feuds that could emerge. Some of the things that he said carried significant parallels to our own social dealings, with people talking behind each other’s backs, trying to recruit others in personal arguments to support them and international differences resulting in what amounts to cliques. He was sure to emphasize that this is not what life at the abbey is about, but he admitted that there are ‘drama queens’ that often seem to be at the center of tension frequently, and that petty arguments happen more often than most (or at least I) would have imagined. He said that he generally remained on the sidelines of such disagreements within the abbey, but also that he could not avoid others attempting to sway him into their point of view on their own arguments and that it could get quite tiresome. Further, I asked him at one point what he thought of the current Abbot and he gave an absolutely frank assessment of the man and the job that he thought he was doing. He said that he is a wonderful man that always seems to mean well, but has a hard time avoiding taking one step forward and two steps back. He expressed some frustration over the state of some of the decisions being made in regard to the abbey, and the boring tedium that is listening to the same members argue their points at the bi-yearly votes every time. I also asked if he himself had any further ambitions beyond the abbey, such as becoming a bishop, and he sort of hesitated and gave a long “ummm ooooh”, before saying that it was really not a decision that he can make (I had and still have very little idea what processes go into choosing a bishop). He said that the decision pretty much came down from Rome, and implied that he would probably accept the post should it come to him, but I didn’t get the impression that it was his life’s ambition to move on from the place that he has called home for so long.

Klosternueberg is an extremely interesting place for all of the history, but the experience will truly stand out for me because of Father Clemens. I know everyone on my trip feels the same way, but I simply cannot overstate the effect that he had on how I view Canons (such as himself) and religious men in general. He completely humanized and made relevant to me a lifestyle that I had previously considered unfathomable, or at least so different from my own that an understanding was out of reach.

Kunsthistoriches Museum

08/07/09

German word o the day: beantworten – to answer

Friday was an extremely early morning when viewed in the light of the amount of wine that was inhaled the previous evening, followed by the relief of class being cancelled. My splitting headache receded somewhat over the next several hours, which was key to being able to appreciate and enjoy the Art Museum later in the day. In my opinion, the most interesting part of the tour was the incredible display of Peter Paul Ruebens paintings, who I had admired for his incredible detail in the past. Of course we now know that Ruebens’ shop was largely responsible for completing many of the works that are attributed to him, but his incredible proficiency is still almost as impressive. The incredibly religious subject matter lends itself to extravagance, and this draws the eye immediately. The primary focus is always readily evident; whether it is divine light from a central figure, brightly colored clothes, or a prominently focused man or woman in the middle. This seems consistent with religious art on the whole, as it is important to catch the eye and give the viewer an impressed feeling of being in a greater presence.

By contrast, the secular art tended to be understated and more focused on contrast. Rembrandt in particular exemplified this, at least in his self-portraits and portrait of an old woman. At first glance I did not have any of the powerful reaction that the Ruebens paintings gave, but this of course was never the intention. His incredible use of shadowing made me examine the detail that much more closely, and it was then easy to se why Rembrandt is so highly regarded. His genius lies in his understatement, which seems appropriate for the secular nature of the works that we saw.

An interesting contrast of these two was provided by Durer, who had a room featuring his work as well. Two paintings in particular stood out to me; his Madonna with Child and his depiction of a slaughter by Muslim soldiers. The Madonna seemed to be congruent with many depictions of the same scene, though she was not quite as glorified as she often is, and I felt as though this was telling of Durer’s reluctance to overtly display his religious feelings through his art. The other painting of Durer’s featured himself in the middle of a heated battle, accompanied by a contemporary. The brutality of the subject matter could be considered a religious message, but his placement of himself as a primary focus make the scene more of an interested observation. The religiosity of Ruebens and the understated beauty of Rembrandt seem to have something of a middle ground in the work of Durer, which makes the subject much more interesting and that much more difficult to understand.