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.

The Klosternueberg Experience

08/06/09

Today was by far the most fun that I’ve had since coming to Europe, and it certainly ranks as one of the coolest days that I have ever spent anywhere. It was of course our infamous trip the Klosternueberg, with the coolest Augustine Monk in the entire world; the one, the only, Father Clements of NY. When told that we would be touring with a monk I expected him to be very nice willing to show us around and tell us about the history of the Monastery, but with a thick Austrian accent and an extremely serious demeanor. Of course we know that this was not the case, and we were somehow graced with the coolest, most engaging, most interesting and interested man that I’ve ever had to pleasure to meet. I could not have been more surprised with myself; standing as close as possible at every stop to hear what he had to say about the monastery that he has called home for the last 11 years.

I have never been personally interested in religion on the whole, and even this tour did not necessarily make me incredibly interested in knowing more about all monasteries. But for whatever reason I felt as though I could listen to him talk about that place for as long as he could, and to that end I really hope to be a part of the return trip for a personal tour that would hopefully take us into the depths of the monastery. The most striking thing to me about Father Clements was his complete willingness to talk to us about any subject that we might ask about, whether it was personal or philosophical or just a general question that seemed like it might be slightly tedious. That coupled with his remarkable willingness to make value judgments about the level of importance and intrigue of the different attractions of the monastery made for by far the most entertaining tour I have been on.

The amount of wine that was consumed by our group after the tour was nothing short of legendary, and I’m proud that I was able to stay until the end and hear as much as I could about all of the difficult topics that came up over the course of the night. I would never presume to ask a canonized monk about subjects such as gay marriage, abortion, global politics, church politics, forgiveness; but all of those subjects were brought up during the course of the night. Every time something like this sprang up I always expected his face to darken somewhat, or a reluctance begin to show itself in some way, but every time he gave a thoughtful and accepting answer. He never wavered in his own beliefs, but was very willing and interested in discussing our thoughts and concerns about all of the subjects that have plagued the church’s reputation over the last quarter century or so.

I could continue to write about Father Clements (and I plan to write a narrative about the experience of the day), but there were of course other things that struck me about our day. I thought that the wine production of the monastery was very cool, but it brought up several interesting points about the nature of the changing market for wine and what that means for the monastery financially. It almost seems as though whenever both he and our winery tour guide spoke about the financial aspect of the wine production, they seemed a little defeated with the options that are available. The production seemed to be losing money, but I guess now that they have all of the equipment and capabilities they would just be losing more money if they decided to try to phase it out. I appreciate the history and amazing tradition that goes along with Klosternueberg wine production, but just like everybody else they have to deal with expenses and the realities of the way that the world is changing. Hopefully they will be able to continue without too many problems, I can attest first hand that their wine is excellent (as can most of the folks that remember the evening.

Heeresgeschichtliches Museum

08/05/09

Today I visited the Military History museum of Vienna, and spent almost the entire day walking the premises and taking in the amazing amount of artifacts that they have there. We ended up walking from the classroom up through the Belvedere to the museum, a walk of only a couple of miles or so but it took us through some very beautiful parts of the city. We stopped and admired the Russian soldier perched above his square, which brings many more questions than answers for me.

I feel as though I understand what Dr. O meant when she said that the Viennese keep it up out of tradition, but I don’t think that I can quite relate to it. The Russian occupation is still a very tender subject with many Viennese it seems, and the universal recognition was that it was extremely brutal in comparison to the American and British occupations. In one sense, I can see the statue as being something of a joke in the sense that it taunts the Russians who have lost most of their influence on the world stage. Being a young American, I certainly cannot relate to the feelings of central European countries when the USSR fell apart, but I always imagined that it was an immense relief. It reminds me of Southern American attachment to Civil War monuments and statues, which have often come under scrutiny for their stark placement in many city squares or thoroughfares. The need to keep these statues comes from a much different feeling though, as Southern pride in the Lost Cause has not diminished in the 140 years since the war ended (if anything it has increased). But no Viennese would attest that they have any affinity for the Russians and what they represented during their occupation, so where does this feeling of devotion to a public statue come from? Not only that, but for somebody who does not have access to the sort of analysis that Dr. O offered it would seem a grand testament to the feelings of the Viennese for the Russians, which of course is just non-existent.

By far the most impressive pieces at the museum were the car and uniform of Archduke Franz Ferdinand, both of which were in terrific condition. Clearly visible on one of the side doors of the car was the hole through which the bullet that killed the Archduke’s wife traveled, and in the collar of the Archduke’s jacket another bullet hole was visible. His entire jacket was stained with blood, and just standing within feet of these artifacts gave me a powerful feeling of connection to the significance of what those bullet holes meant. Millions of men died as a result of the ensuing conflict, and to see what was essentially the ‘match’ that lit the powder keg of Europe gave me a new appreciation for the sort of effect such a small occurrence can have on the rest of the world.

The overall effect of the museum was very good in my opinion; though of course the history was written as such that it put the Austrian military in the best light possible. The subject of the Nazi occupation is always a difficult one in Austria, and of course in a museum dedicated to the military history of the country it was impossible to skate over the subject completely. On the whole I thought that they managed it pretty well, but there was no doubt that all of the World War II exhibits had the overtone that National Socialism had been thrust upon the Austrian nation with the help of a minority of powerful Austrians, and without the amount of support that they really had.

German word o the day was Wirtschaftlich--'economical'

08/04/09

08/04/09

The German word of the day is wahrscheinlich, which means probably.

Yesterday and today we have gotten our first taste of Viennese rain, which has sporadically been very light and sometimes a little heavier. Some others and I made it out to St. Stephen’s cathedral in the rain, only to find the place completely overcrowded with people and an incredibly long line forming for the tour of the catacombs. While we can’t exactly hope for better conditions in terms of the crowds of people, but we wanted to go up into the tower and get a view of Vienna as well. In the end we decided to come back another day and save both of the tours for that time, which I think will be a more enjoyable experience without the weather as it is.

While walking through the Hofburg complex the last couple of days, I was struck by several things about the layout and the grandeur of the entire area. I tried to imagine what the place had looked like when Ottokar began to build the first installations of the complex, and how modest it must have looked. Though the complex was built up over a period of centuries, many of which during the absolutist era, I wondered if any of the Habsburgs ever imagined that it would become what it has. I’m sure that some of them envisioned something along those lines, but of course in a wildly different context than we understand it today. I wondered if the plethora of gift shops and tourist attractions throughout the complex would have been offending to the previous occupants that so valued their power, or if they would appreciate the fact that what they had intended to do succeeded, at least in the sense that they were trying to leave their mark upon Europe.

My overall impression of Vienna so far has been overwhelmingly positive as the beauty and history of the city have not failed to live up to their reputation. I look forward to exploring some of the more distant reaches of the city, and actually getting to know the city as well as I can in the short time that we are here.

City Tour with Dr. O

08/03/09

Today was our first class session, followed by the bus tour with Dr. O. I enjoyed the tour immensely, Dr. O had such great insight on the different sights we were seeing due to her long experience with living in Vienna, which I thought gave it a better personal touch than from somebody who only knew the history of the places. Of particular interest to me were the Monastery that we drove past, the history of the Danube, and the architecture that we stopped and admired.

I enjoyed Dr. O’s retelling of the story behind the monastery with the veil in the wind, but for me (the thick-headed American) I’m immediately skeptical of the validity behind it. I suppose the stories and legends behind a lot of historical areas in Europe are due largely to the extremely long history that encompasses it, but I do find it interesting that we do not have more of this in America. I’m never quite sure if all the stories are supposed to be tongue in cheek, or if they simply got that way because our modern culture is generally unwilling to accept such stories as truth. The story of the veil is much more plausible of course than many other creation stories of certain monuments and buildings, but the idea of an unscathed piece of cloth that was in the forest for eight years requires a leap of faith that my 21^st century mind is not willing to make. Could the whole thing have been a trick by somebody who placed the veil there? That would make seem to make the story make sense, but I think it is more likely that the story was concocted in the years following the creation of the monastery, or possibly during construction, that was more useful as a way to justify its creation rather than actually explain what happened. But maybe life was just a little more magical back then, that wouldn’t be all that surprising either.

I really enjoyed the Hunderwasser(?) house that we stopped and looked at, I thought it was completely inspired. I really loved how committed he was to making everything non-linear, he must have been an absolute chore to work with. I wondered whether there were instances in the construction in which a foreman or some such worker tried to contend that it was structurally impossible to do what he was asking them to do, only to be shouted down with vague assertions about the non-linear tribute of nature. It may have made for some very interesting exchanges, as I can only imagine that all very talented and inspired artists come across these problems sometime in their careers. My favorite part was probably the encouragement of the tenants to paint around the edge of their windows, which I thought really enhanced the windows that had chosen to do so.

And of course I enjoyed Dr. O’s commentary on the “Blue Danube”, which I thought was quite funny. I’ve only been to the Danube once or twice before, and I certainly didn’t remember it being blue, but coming from somebody who has lived in Vienna for forty years it was even more telling. I also wondered about the reflecting pool at the Belvedere, is it usually more filled than it was? It seemed as though it had fallen somewhat into disrepair, which was too bad because it seems like such a beautiful pool that would provide a spectacular reflection if the conditions were correct.

Initial Musings/Victims of Fascism

08/02/09

The German word of the day: verdienen, which means to earn

So today being the Orientation for the program there is not an outrageous amount to write about, but the first experiences with the rest of the group were very positive. After spending a small amount of time in Vienna twice before, it was very cool to realize that our classroom is a stone’s throw from the Hofburg Palace complex (which I remember vividly from previous trips). Everybody in the program seems to be very accepting and interested, I have great faith that this trip will be very educational and extremely fun.

The “victims of Fascism” memorial adjacent to our classroom was especially intriguing, as it seemed a perfect example of the difficulty with which Austria remembers its WWII past. I’ve actually been lucky enough to get a copy of letters that my great aunt Mary Evelyn wrote while in Vienna in 1946, and there are some very telling passages. She came over here almost directly after the war was over to be with her husband who was in the service, and saw much of the destruction that had been wrecked upon the Third Reich by allied bombers. She described Munich as being completely leveled, while Vienna was in very bad shape and refugees from eastern European countries fleeing the Russians were everywhere. In one letter she described taking a tour of the city with an Austrian guide, who freely admitted to having been very excited when Hitler arrived in Vienna and announced that they were now a part of Germany. She said most in the city at that time were not about to discuss Hitler and everything that had just happened, but I got the feeling from her letter that his feelings had been very widely shared and he was just more honest with himself and the Americans that he was guiding.

Even more interesting than that was her description of a talk that they were all given by an Army officer on the boat trip over. She said that they essentially told them not to associate with the Germans, and certainly not to talk any politics or mention what had just happened between the Allies and Axis. She described another GI standing up and saying that this was not the best solution to the problem, as most were willing to talk candidly about democracy and were more willing to accept what we would consider a “western” ideology than the Army seemed to think. She described the Army officers as very nervous during all of this, and after the other man sat down they said “yes yes that’s all good and true to an extent, but really you should not be fraternizing too much with the Germans”. I can imagine the fear that they must have felt in the very recent wake of the Nazi grip on Europe, but it was an interesting insight into the psyche of Americans as occupiers of Europe.

So one thing I wondered as we passed the “Victims of Fascism”, do they consider those killed by Allied bombers to be victims of this as well? Many occupied cities don’t seem to harbor much resentment toward the Allies for their brutal bombing during the war, but the unique situation that Austria is in may provide for different and more complicated feelings. Personally I think it makes sense to blame all deaths, whether by German occupiers or Allied bombers, on the Nazi Fascists considering that they are largely responsible for the situation as a whole, but I can’t imagine that feelings end there.