Auf wiedersehen, Wien

It's hard to believe the end is actually here. Tomorrow I'm going back to the States.

The sad thing is, I feel like I really just started to like it here, and get used to it here.

I've made many good friends, and it was great seeing them all one last time at the restaurant where we were served the infamous "swords" dinner: pork and schnitzel skewed on swords! And I can tell I've made a reputation with a few of these people by the fact that I was called to help finish one of the remaining swords.

This was actually all after riding the famous ferris wheel as seen in The Third Man, where I got to look out upon Vienna from above for just one more time, and just ponder.

I've been pondering something for a while - whether or not it's okay to love this city. There are certainly many great things about Vienna, but there have also been a lot of bad things. I've wondered if it is okay to still like a city that has been involved in things too numerous to mention here. But in the end, the good is outweighing the bad for me. I've found so many things to like here. Even the people; I don't seem to mind grumpy Viennese at all! All I know is that I would love to be back here someday. There's still many things that I didn't end up doing.

There's no question that I love the people that I've spent this month with. That was clear as we all took shots together in the restaurant tonight. It's been such an adventure exploring this country alongside them.

This was for sure an experience that I won't forget any time soon. I am afraid I have little else to add to this sweetly sappy blog post other than...auf wiedersehen, Wien.

The last German word of the day is "fremd," meaning "foreign."

Last Bit of Time...

I must once again thank Stephanie and Professor Stuart for inviting me to go out with them; we went back to Thomas Frankl's gallery on the Judenplatz, and this time Josh was able to come along too. This time we mostly helped him set up a Facebook account, just so that he could get his father's work and gallery noticed on the internet more. I also took the time to look at some of the paintings a bit more, and shared the experience with other families who had come in through the door.

Later that afternoon while walking around some of the less-crowded streets, I happened to come across this sticker:


And then a few meters later I saw this one:


It means "Stop the demagoguery - Islam is not the enemy."

Interesting pieces of public art. I guess these are signs that there are indeed people in Vienna - people who dwell in the world of underground, DIY-type stuff - who are actively fighting against the xenophobic tendencies that seem almost traditional of Viennese and of Austrians. If I could speak with the maker of the first sticker, however, I would ask him or her why it's printed in English and if the choice of that language has any special meaning or signifcane. I know that this is not the first such bit of English I've seen in public - if you look at the graffiti it can be found in there too. I just wish I knew the reason why. There could be so much to know about the uses of languages that we just don't have in the United States, because we're almost completely unilingual across the country.

There's still so much I could learn and do here, and it's a shame that I'll have to leave soon. At least I got to spend this night at an authentic heuriger with almost the whole class. I have really come to enjoy these heurigen in Austria. The wine is always great and the little bits of food are just right... Again, I wish tomorrow wasn't my last day.

The German word of the day is "Freundschaft," meaning "friendship."

A Band and a Mass

This morning I chose to go see something that I had been meaning to all month, and something that always makes me happy anywhere: seeing a marching band play.

The band in question is the Hoch und Deutschmeister Band, which gathers on the corner of Graben and Kohlmarkt every Saturday morning before marching to the interior courtyard of the Hofburg via Michaelerplatz. There, they perform works by various Austrian composers (the Strausses, Franz Lehár, Carl Michael Ziehrer and Robert Stolz for instance) for 40 minutes.

I excitedly ran ahead of them from the Graben towards the courtyard, where they gathered in a circle around their director who took the time to explain a bit of their history to the crowd. Apparently, the Deutschmeister Band was first formed in 1741 to perform changing-of-the-guard ceremonies at the Hofburg, which they did until 1918. This tradition was only revived just a few years ago, although I think the band has still existed in different incarnations since the end of World War I.

Many of the crowd left before the performance's conclusion, but I stayed for the whole thing (and even found fellow band nerd Me'Lisa James in the crowd!). All in all, it was enjoyable 40 minutes, seeing musicians young and old playing together. I did not recognize any of the tunes, except for the fact that they were all marches and all Austrian.

When they were done, I took a quick look inside the nearby Augustinerkirche, where, amongst all the other sights of the gothic church, I saw posters up for (what I perceived to be) free daily classical music concerts. Tonight's repertoire included nothing that I recognized, except for the names: Mozart and Bach. The prospect of hearing a Mozart piece other than "Eine Kleine Nachtmusik" was enticing to me, and I absolutely love Bach's organ works. I would later inform Professor Stuart and Stephanie Merrill of this when we were relaxing at a cafe by Schwedenplatz, and they decided that the three of us should go, having nothing else planned for the evening.

(A note about the cafe: this was the only time I've ever had a grumpy Viennese waiter/waitress, or at least been aware enough to notice one. And the main reason why she was so is because we sat down in tables blocked off with a "reserved" sign. I am told, however, that usually such tables are not really reserved, it's just that the cafe doesn't want to deal with more customers than it wants to deal with!)

As we walked into the Augustinerkirche shortly before 18:30, I noticed that many people in attendance were wearing much nicer clothes than myself. It felt strange. I then felt completely out-of-place once Professor Stuart and I sat in the pews and she informed me that we were really attending a Catholic mass. I suddenly didn't want to be there, as I am not Catholic myself and I was afraid I was taking up a seat for someone much more devout than me. I began to get really worried at certain points such as the moments when everyone crossed themselves in unison.

The thing is, I hate to stand out as an outsider. I've been trying to do that this whole month as an American in Europe. But how to not stand out as a non-Catholic American in the middle of a mass in the capital city of one of the most staunchly Catholic countries in the continent? The experience almost overshadowed the beautiful orchestra and choir behind me, and I felt stupid for being so naive to think that this was really a free classical music concert. Of course not, I was expected to show my faithful side. But how could I do that when I can't speak Deutsch...

Professor Stuart and Stephanie seemed to get much more out of the experience than I did. Turns out, this was the mass for the feast of St. Augustine, so we had picked quite a day to visit. I was glad that they were both okay with attending (I felt guilty for misleading them), but next time I will be more careful and will not attend something that I don't belong in. Even though Kathy said that most of the attendees weren't religious at all, I still felt out of place. I guess this is just another learning experience.

The German word of the day is "wohnen," meaning "to live."

Art Against Oblivion

Through my works
I have created a memorial
for all nations of the world.

No one,
regardless of religion or
political conviction, should ever again
suffer such - or similar - atrocities!

So says the introductory page to the book that compiles Adolf Frankl's art. Frankl was a Jewish survivor of Auschwitz-Birkenau and an artist who expressed his memories of the Shoah through paintings. This afternoon, I had the tremendous fortune of holding a conversation with his son, Thomas Frankl, who runs the gallery that displays his father's work on the Judenplatz. And for that I must thank Stephanie Merrill for inviting me there first.

Frankl had so much to tell us about himself and about his father as well. It's so hard for me to decide where to begin. Should I start with how he once had to dress as a girl in order to avoid being checked to see if he was circumcised? Or how he showed us his mother's handbag which she used to cover up the yellow star she had to wear, and how the contents of her bag were for event that she would be caught outside in an air-raid? Or maybe how he showed us an actual cap worn by Jewish prisoners that was typically maliciously thrown by guards towards the electric fences?

There's one story Thomas Frankl told us about his father that I think says volumes about him. Adolf Frankl was hiding in an upstairs residence when the authorities were gathering together all the Jews of the town (present-day Bratislava) for deportation. The son of the janitor of the complex betrayed Adolf by saying aloud that there were Jews hiding upstairs - thus he was taken. Years later, after surviving Auschwitz, Adolf Frankl was approached by the same man who begged forgiveness from him and apologized on his knees. Incredibly, Frankl didn't just forgive him, he hired him as a janitor for his own office.

Thomas Frankl seems to have much of this same kind spirit in him. "I don't make generalizations" was one of the sentences he spoke several times. He said this to imply that he did not think that all Viennese were anti-Semetic, and hence why he was able to let his father's art have a gallery here. I believe he also spoke of Simon Wiesenthal's idea of "fighting [anti-Semitism] in the lion's den."

The art itself is incredible. It is meant to be provocative and disturbing - they are all scenes related to the Holocaust, whether they be scenes of deportation or of life in the camps or of anything else. The human figures often appear abstract, and spatial perspective is done away with a lot. The colors are also meant to be bright. As Thomas tried to explain to us, Adolf wanted his colors to "burn like fire." Also, when you look up close at the paintings, you can see that there are huge gobs of dried paint on them, giving them a rough, almost three-dimensional look.

Here are a couple of his paintings that I was able to find online:



I will admit that I did not talk a whole lot. I let Stephanie and Professor Stuart (she was there too) do much of the talking and occasional translating. It's not that I wasn't interested in the art and in the Frankls; nothing could be further from the truth! But sometimes I get silent just listening to another's stories. I hope Thomas did not mind my silence too much.

I was making a remark to Professor Stuart about a particular painting that was sticking out in my mind, called The Last Scream - The End. Thomas heard me speaking and asked what it was I was talking about. I motioned to the painting behind him and slowly stammered out a few words when he said "Give me your hand" and took my right hand in his - his hand which has surely felt far more in this world than I can imagine. It was a gesture of comfort. I automatically brought up something that had come up in our group's conversation. "Mauthausen was...tough." Thomas seemed to have read my mind.

We only meant to stay at the gallery for an hour and a half; it ended up being three. By the end of those three hours Thomas Frankl had agreed to host next year's Vienna students from UC Davis as well as signed the copy of the book of his father's art that I bought. Professor Stuart, Stephanie, and I really could not believe just how fortunate we were in having this experience together.

The German word of the day is "Fußball," meaning "soccer."

Crossroads of the World

This program is called "The Crossroads of Central Europe" but today I felt like I met the crossroads of the whole world. And why not - for today was our visit to the United Nations Office in Vienna.

I felt lucky to be able to visit here, just as Vienna itself must have felt a little lucky and glad to be neutral in the Cold War so that it could get the UNO City established within itself.

Roughly the first part of our tour was spent up in the press box of one of the large conference rooms, which was very cool to look down upon. We learned that in order to be an interpreter, you have to know at least three languages (which may or may not include the six official languages of the UN: English, French, Spanish, Arabic, Russian, and Chinese). Apparently the interpreters don't always know what the conferences are about, nor are they always able to translate something well. One funny instance that was related to us involved a delegate from Russia trying to tell the assembly a a humorous vignette which couldn't be translated easily, so the interpreter just said "Could you please laugh politely? The Russian delegate is trying to tell a joke."

The second part of our tour was spent with a representative of the International Atomic Energy Agency, which is headquartered in Vienna. Most of what's heard in the news these days concerning the IAEA involves them investigating dubious nations with dubious nuclear ambitions. Hence, it was nice to hear of all the positive things that the IAEA gets to do too. Like helping developing countries use nuclear technology for medicine, agriculture, and mineral exploration. Of course, the agency does have some pretty serious jobs to do, such as making sure that spent fuel rods are not used for malicious purposes.

I learned from this representative that the United States, United Kingdom, France, Russia, and China are the only countries legally allowed to have nuclear weapons since they exploded devices before 1967 and have pledged under the Non-Proliferation Treaty to pursue good faith negotiations towards disarmament. The rest of the 182 member countries have pledged not to proliferate at all. Supposedly one of the ultimate goals of the IAEA is to completely disarm all nuclear weapons from the entire world. I wanted to ask how that would possible, but I didn't get to ask it.

Oh, and I must comment on how ironic it is, having the IAEA in a nuclear-free country.

After a very excellent and international lunch we had the third part of our day, listening to a representative from the Office on Drugs and Crime discuss the problem of human trafficking in the world today. This turned out to be a very eye-opening presentation, as we were told of the multiple reasons that people are trafficked, from labor to organ removal to sex work. Really horrifying things. And the really unfortunate thing is that so many victims get led into a life of being trafficked after having been told that they're going to do something good for their families. Then once they're under another's control, they're subjected to countless methods of entrapment. Their passports could be taken away, their "wages" could be held indefinitely, religion can be invoked, the list goes on... Anyway, I was really impressed with this speaker, her lecture, and with this general department of the UN; I got really motivated to learn more about human trafficking. There was a book being passed around describing the trafficking situations unique to every country in the world. I tried to read as much about Austria and the United States as I could before having to pass it down; if I remember right Austria tends to get a lot of people from eastern Europe brought within its borders for labor.

I really should investigate internships for working here. I'm really impressed with this whole UNO city and it seems like a lot of good work for the world gets done here. This would be a very prestigious place to be.

The German word of the day is "heute," meaning "today."

Post-Mauthausen

After yesterday's intense day at Mauthausen, it was necessary to discuss in lecture what we thought about it. One thing that was brought up (which I have not mentioned here) was the presence of rascist and neo-Nazi graffiti that had been scribbled on the walls of the main shower room. (I recall peering at one phrase written, and then automatically turning away in utter disgust.) We debated how one could best prevent such graffiti from appearing again. Many of us didn't think that the interiors of the buildings should be shut away from visitors, however. One possible solution (which I have written down in my notes) was to have people monitoring the rooms, like guards at a museum. (If Ruth Klüger reads what I just wrote, she will completely disapprove of me for using the m-word.)

We were apparently the last class to be allowed to enter the innermost parts of the buildings, including the gas chamber. Supposedly those sections are being closed off to the public very soon. This we decided was not beneficial, for it seemed to us that there's a certain feeling and sense that you get when you're actually standing in a certain place as opposed to viewing it from afar, like in a book. You can't get the same sense of despair and sadistic humor put forward by the Nazis. It is because of this that most of us disagree with Ruth Klüger's belief that concentration camps should not become memorials and not be open to the public. People do need to see these.

One thing I mentioned aloud was how a Holocaust-denier could possibly deny that it happened if he or she was confronted with one of these camps. I think these camps should be preserved somewhat just so that they don't fade away with history like a medieval ruin. I don't think something like this should ever be forgotten, and I really don't think that anyone would just build such a horrific place for any other reason than to kill - they're already damaged in the head anyways.

The German word of the day is "Kino," meaning "movies."

Mauthausen

This is going to be a very difficult entry to write. This has certainly been a very difficult day.

Upon arrival at Mauthausen, Professor Stuart told us that after getting off the bus we were to meet up in the middle of "the modern building." I looked at the walls and edifices of the camp and said aloud to myself "Which modern building?" For these are no medieval ruins, they are less than a century old. The building in question was the one that housed the administration of what is now called the memorial.

"Memorial" - the whole camp is described as such on its website, yet there are also many other memorials set up in front of the camp's gates. These individual memorials have been set up by each nation that had members of its citizenry perish at Mauthausen, each with a different artistic way of paying tribute. The word "nation" here also includes the Roma and Sinti people, as they have their own memorial too. Even West Germany and East Germany erected their own memorials here, though I am told that those were both difficult to deisgn.

Our tour guide led us throughout the grounds, both outside and inside the gates, and we all somberly followed. She gave us much information about Mauthausen, like how the prisoners themselves had to cut the rough stone steps for the staircase from the quarry, or how the dormitories that would comfortably fit 20 people were made to hold 200, or how public soccer matches were held on a field just below the camp and the local citizens would come and watch, oblivious to what was happening higher up on the hill.

It seemed logical and yet perverse how the last place the tour guide showed us was the gas chamber below the camp's prison. Even though far more Mauthausen prisoners died doing manual labor, it was much easier to imagine scores of people being slaughtered in this tiny space, and to me it was the most distressing and saddening part of the camp. There's a chance you can live another day carrying a small boulder up the stone steps - but there's no chance of surviving a room that was explicitly designed to kill you in half an hour. You know with certainty that the four white walls around you - apart from the 80 other prisoners crammed in next to you - are the last things you'll ever see.

I will admit to my credit or discredit that I was far too emotionally downtrodden to really pay attention to anything that we saw in the town of Weithoven, a side-stop for dinner on the way back to Vienna. The gothic chapel and Renaissance-era town hall could not distract my mind from the gas chambers. And instead of joining with others on the bus on the way back and singing songs aloud to release spirits (Professor Stuart would later say that this has happened during every class's return from Mauthausen), I sat twisted in my seat, being driven almost mad from the irony of it all. I did not sing.



The German word of the day is "es geht," meaning "it's okay."

At the Judenplatz

For my 22nd birthday, one of my presents was another fantastic tour with Dr. O, this time in the Leopold Museum, which houses a lot of art from around the turn of the 20th century. Much Klimt, Schiele, and other Jugenstil-style art. This particular day was a special day to be at the Leopold Museum as Schiele's apparently famous "Portrait of Wally" was back in Vienna for the first time in ages. I saw a newspaper headline that proclaimed it to be "Austria's Mona Lisa," but Dr. O wasn't too sure about the authenticity of that claim.

The walking tour of the afternoon saw us at the Judenplatz, where my attention was caught immediately by the large memorial to the Holocaust in the center of it. It is The Nameless Library - a large library that one can never penetrate as the spines are all turned inwards. They represent the stories of the countless Jews that can never be known now.


It is undoubtedly very stark and meant to provoke. Yet I find it a bit ironic that there is a plaque from 1500 not too far away commemorating a pogrom against the Jews that happened in this very square. How can both of these monuments to similar tragedies - but with different attitudes - coexist? And why is the "pogrom plaque" still up there in this day and age? I suppose it is alright to have other plaques around the square that recognize atrocities committed against the Jews in Vienna but still...something just doesn't seem right.

The German word of the day is "wegen," meaning "because of."

Wiener Blut

Instead of describing my day (which was mostly uninteresting) I'm going to write down some thoughts about present-day occurrences.

Last week during several days' lecture, there has been mention of certain posters put out by the Freedom Party of Austria (FPÖ), the country's dominant far-right political party. These posters have been the work of the man whose face is on them, Heinz-Christian Strache, chairman of the FPÖ. All of them have party slogans boldly displayed; one of the most prominent slogans displayed reads as follows: "Mehr Mut für unser Wiener Blut - Zu viel Fremdes tut niemandem gut." This slogan almost rhymes in English as it does in German: "More courage for our Viennese Blood – Too many foreigners does no one good."

It's easy to tell what it is and what Strache is implying. This is an anti-immigration slogan. What makes is particularly controversial is it's reference to "Wiener Blut," a waltz by Johann Strauss II that has absolutely no political connoatations. Yet Strache is drawing up this Austrian hallmark from history to argue against non-Austrian peoples from entering the country and city. He has even made other slogans in the same vein: "Pummerin, not muezzin," "Vienna must not become Istanbul," and so on.

I'm glad to hear from Professor Stuart that this guy is considered kind of a wack-job in Vienna, and that there has been a big backlash against him and his posters. (I've even seen several of his posters with obviously deliberate tears across them.) And from hearing more about him, I have to agree. Supposedly, he's been trying to reach out to ethnic Serbs in Vienna, just how can turn them against the Turks. I see something wrong here: he's against non-Viennese blood, yet he's trying to seek support from such people? It's apparent that he's not really against foreigners; he's against foreign religion - Islam.

And this is something that seems to be happening all over the western world - even back home. Islamophobia is a big issue here, and while I do not know what will happen regarding it in the future, I am fascinated by it's relationship to Austria and Austrian history. For Austria has, upon examination, been traditionally wary of foreigners, to put it mildly. It's recent past forces it to re-examine itself, something it is still trying to do today. And how does the country do that in light of these new social and cultural challenges?

We shall see in October, when Vienna holds city-wide elections. Until then...HC Strache is a wack-job. And I think this political cartoon that I found in a newspaper at Cafe Central agrees with me.


The German word of the day is "krank," meaning "ill."

Bicycling Along the Danube

Honestly, I think today has been my favorite day in Austria so far.

It began with Prof. Stuart, Sara, Stephanie, Harrison (an alum from last year's Vienna program) and myself renting bicycles at Pedal Power, then running through the U-bahn lines to catch a train to Krems, a little town up some distance on the Danube River, towards the west.

And from there, the plan was just to simply bike...

And bike we did along the Danube, passing through many small towns, innumerable vineyards, several medieval ruins on the hilltops...among these ruins, the most notable one was the Castle Dürnstein, in the town of the same name. This was where Leopold V held Richard I of England for ransom; that same ransom money was later used to fortify the defenses of Vienna. The town of Dürnstein itself was a fairly pretty sight too, and the plums that a local encouraged me to pick off a tree by the river were undeniably tasty.



There were many more bicyclists along this path than just us. I learned, in fact, that this particular path runs from Passau on the German border all the way to Budapest, and people can bike the entire path in a few days while spending nights in little towns like the ones we were passing through! This sounds like something I'd like to try someday, maybe once I'm a bit better in German.


It was absolutely necessary to stop for food a few times, and we tried to find real heurigen to eat at. We did find one that was truly authentic (I believe it was in the town of Spitz). The wine and blutwurst were great as was the atmosphere; it felt like a really cozy, local place. This was the kind of place that Rick Steves would stop at if he was bicycling along the Danube. He might also have done what I did shortly thereafter: I purchased a jar of apricot preserves and a bottle of apricot schnapps from a roadside stand, both homemade. I had heard that apricot products were big in the Danube valley back at the orientation meeting last February, and these stands were something I was looking forward to. And I can assure that the schnapps is quite the stuff!!



All the little things we found along the way were wonderful. The heurigen, the schnapps, the ruins on the hillsides...Professor Stuart was especially fond of the altar made of human bones and skulls in one town just short of Spitz. I won't put up a picture of that, as I'm not into the macabre as much as she is! Instead, here's the beautiful view I caught from the top of the church's tower:



Eventually, evening came around, and with it our time to head back to Vienna. This proved remarkably simple: our single train ticket (good for the whole group) allowed us to hop on at any station we needed to, so we simply got on a train at Melk and spent the rest of the way back chatting animatedly with each other and with a few Austrians who learned we were from California ("Oh, you know Arnold Schwarzenegger?"). I cannot say just how glad I am that instead of trying to visit a whole other city, I took the time to see a different side of this country, and it was for sure one of my favorite days here.

The German word of the day is "vielleicht," meaning "maybe."

A Visit with the Austrian Healthcare System

Today it was decided that my ankle has been bothering me long enough, so a visit to the hospital was in order. Before I write any more, let me give a shout-out to Josh Lyons, our excellent program coordinator who accompanied me every step of this slightly confusing way.

We took the U6 to Michaelbeuren-AKH. Josh has been this way several times already with other sick students so he thankfully knew where to go. I sure wouldn't have been able to navigate the hospital! Especially one with two different emergency rooms; we were directed to the second one after visiting the first, which Josh has visited every other time he's come to this hospital.

We went to the front desk at the second emergency room, where we explained (in German and English; thankfully all doctors here spoke some of the latter) how my ankle had swollen and how we suspected there might be a fracture. The doctor examined my California driver's license (he happily exclaimed at the state I was from) and gave me a very simple sheet to fill out. After waiting about 75 minutes, I was called to be examined.

It was decided that I would need a few x-rays, so after waiting a bit more, I got them taken, whereafter it was found that nothing was fractured, everything was fine, it was just recommended that I put some anti-swelling lotion on my ankle. Needless to say, I feel really good now that I know my leg is alright.

So now I must ask, what do I think of this whole Austrian healthcare experience? Admittedly, I only saw a tiny part of it, but I guess it seemed like a well-run system to me. I write this while thinking about the time that I really fractured my leg in Davis. That day, I had to fill out so much paperwork: in the ambulance, in the guerney at the hospital, leaving the hospital after receiving crutches...and here in Vienna I only had to turn in one simple sheet! Maybe I'd have to write more if something was really wrong with me, but from what I experienced, I was pleased with the amount of paper bureaucracy I had to penetrate!

The (quite appropriate) German word of the day is "gesund," meaning "healthy."

The Historisches Museum der Stadt Wien

It seems more and more like the Biedermier period in Austria is analagous to the United States of the 1950s. Austrian middle-class families sought out a wholesome way of living under the watchful eye of Clemens von Metternich, who appears to me as a kind of Joseph McCarthy figure. At least, this is the analogy that has been explained to me in lecture. It certainly seems to make sense after seeing some Biedermeier paintings at the Historisches Museum der Stadt Wien. Many of them feature scenes that are very homely and familial. Some of them are pastoral and focus on the Austrian peasantry that must have had a certain degree of charm to the bourgeoisie audience for which the paintings were made. This museum also contains some Biedermeier era furniture, as seen here:


I am no great expert on furniture design, but I would say that they look rather "conservative." They are not meant to be overly ostentatious, I guess you could say. I could be wrong, but I think that this is the period in which Nicholas Parsons describes Viennese as "seeking happiness in a quiet corner." And making sure they don't form any suspicious groups in public, lest Metternich's police feel the need to question them!

Also at the Historisches Museum der Stadt Wien was a pretty interesting exhibit on Vienna's appearances in films and movies. I do not know very much about film history, but I did learn that up to the 1960s, Vienna's image in film was meant to tell of the "good old days," of a past remanufactured to promote tourism to Austria. Obviously, these images do not involve anything between 1938-1945. So it is then interesting how from the '60s onward more experimental films of the city were made which confronted Austria's uneasy past and skeptically questioned whether the Nazi's mark on the country's history had been overcome.

This museum turned out to be a very good visit. Afterwards, I decided that I should check out Schönbrunn Palace, since I hadn't seen it at all yet. Unfortunately, my left ankle was hurting a lot (possibly from something I did back in the Alps), and it was a bit difficult to walk through the magnificent gardens. Oh yes, they were definitely magnificent, and it wasn't the first time in which I tried to imagine myself as one of the old Hapsburgs! But eventually I decided I had to leave the beautiful geometricly-cut hedges and give my leg a rest back at the apartment. I think I may need to get it checked very soon.

The German word of the day is "möglich," meaning "possible."

"I speak for all mediocrities."

The title of this blog entry is what I said after trying to conduct the Wiener Philharmoniker. Well, the virtual one, anyways. It's something I wanted to try as soon as I found out about it and it's location at the Haus der Musik. I thought that being a guy who pretends to conduct orchestras on his iPod would mean that I would be alright with leading a virtual orchestra but they all played "Eine Kleine Nachtmusik" much slower than I was commanding. Oh well. I blame the electronic baton.

Certainly there were other great things to see at the Haus der Musik. The first floor, for instance, is devoted to the real Wiener Philharmoniker, and a small theatre there plays the latest of their famed New Year's Day concerts every hour. That was a good, relaxing forty minutes spent listening to some the best in Austrian classical music. Strauss's "Blue Danube" waltz was of course performed, as was his father's "Radetzky March" immediately afterward. Those two pieces are always played at every New Year's concert.

The second floor wasn't so much about music as it was about sound itself. It was bit strange and reminded me of the Discovery Science Center back in Santa Ana, California. The first room you walk in to on that floor is supposed to replicate the sound you hear as a baby in the womb! Interesting stuff, I guess, but the third floor was where the Haus der Musik really got good.

That floor focused entirely on Austrian composers, with most of them getting a single large room devoted to themselves. Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven, Schubert, Strauss the younger, and Mahler all had such rooms, and then there was another room devoted to the likes of Schoenberg and Webern. This floor was very educational and I tried to take my time reading everything that was on display here. One thing that I learned in the Haydn room was that the Viennese classical works were innovative since they were the first works that were composed with the average listener in mind and not a learned expert. This era was also one of the first times that a composer's individual personality could prevent his music from being tampered with at all. I found this to be really interesting, and I really ought to listen to more Haydn and compare his work to earlier composers, maybe Bach. I'd like to be able to recognize someone's personality in a piece of music I'm listening to. I'm fairly good at figuring out when something was composed, just not by who. Oh, and I also found out that Gustav Mahler had therapy sessions with Sigmund Freud! He's another composer I wish I knew more about. Ah, there's just too much to listen to in this city!

At the end of the pathway on this floor was the virtual conducting session that I described previously. If there wasn't a line I would have tried it again and again and again. But at least I can say I did it, and the virtual players didn't stop to grumpily point out the flaws in my technique, but nevertheless...I was but a mediocrity among geniuses in this place. (And I am indeed deliberately referencing Amadeus here.)

The German word of the day is "schmecken," meaning "to taste."

Returning to Vienna

There was just enough time for one thing to do in Prague this morning before heading off back to Vienna, and that was visiting the Jerusalem Synagogue in the city's Jewish quarter.

It was a synagogue of amazing architecture. It was built in 1906, and as an informational brochure told us, features an Art Nouveau stylization of Moorish architectural style. Inside, it certainly looks like this building could be in Spain or north Africa or somewhere other than Prague. The arches are explicitly reminiscent of Islamic arches. There were other plans drawn up for the design of this synagogue which incorporated both neo-Romanesque style and neo-Gothic style. Both of those styles would have also been very interseting to see incorporated into a Jewish house of worship, and I wonder why such historicist styles were considered for this particular synagogue. It is very fortunate that this place escaped the damage of World War II entirely.

I would have liked to spend more time around the Jewish quarter, but it was time eventually to get back on the train towards Vienna. However, I was not unhappy about this. Prague was a nice enough city but I just couldn't connect to it and enjoy it like I have with Vienna. I think several factors result in this:

-I had less than two total days to explore Prague.
-I had not read up on Prague as much as I had Vienna.
-The city just seemed a little more crowded and claustrophobic to me, and
-I just didn't really like the amount of English there, even though its the only language I speak fluently.

I felt like I was being catered to in Prague. There was no challenge of having to reach out into the local culture to become a competent traveler in the city. This is what Vienna has made me do, and I have appreciated it all the way. I want to get absorbed in another language and culture, and I want to try and get to know how the city works through my own experiences. I guess Prague just really wants visitors to come and spend money on it.

Maybe someday I will go back to Prague when I know a little more about it, but until then...I think I'll keep a lot of my traveling with Austria.

The German word of the day is "zelten," meaning "to camp."

Prague

Our full day in Prague began with a visit to Prague Castle, situated high above the rest of the city. There are a lot of individual places within this complex, and its really quite crowded with tourists. I should have picked up an audioguide to carry around with me, but I felt the need to save my korona for some reason. Unfortunately, I probably didn't get as much out of the place as I could have. I did get to see the room from which the Thirty Years' War began, however. It was where Catholic representatives of the Hapsburgs were thrown out of the windows by Protestant Bohemian governors! The representatives (miraculously) survived their fall, probably because they landed on some soft earth. From one vantage point its easy to see that they would not have survived if they were tossed out of a different, nearby window.

By the way, if you keep your eyes opened, you can easily spot evidence of the Hapsburg's past reign, just as you can in Vienna. For example, I saw this double-headed eagle very close to the Charles Bridge:

Such findings really give one an idea of just how far-reaching the Hapsburgs's influence was.

After a while though I was glad to be out of the castle. We wandered over to the Strahov Library and Philosophical Hall - which were both unfortunately under renovation. That led to us wandering across a very green hill that skirted the edge of the main part of the city. It was rather quiet and peaceful up there; I was glad to get away from a lot of the crowds. We would stay there for a while before descending down into the city again, where we did discover an interesting music museum that had an exhibit on Beatlemania behind the Iron Curtain.

The rest of the day seemed to go by pretty quickly - a quick stop by the astronomical clock, a drink or two under shelter from the rain, and then back to the hostel. This day has seemed to go by quite fast - a shame that we have to leave tomorrow.

The German word of the day is "zu Fuß," meaning "on foot."

Europe Endless, Part Two

After a long and hectic day, I can type and say that I am currently not in Vienna, but rather in Praha, Česká Republika.

It wasn't quite so hectic during the long and calm train ride I took with Carmen Yu to get here. But after stepping out of the station and finding our hostel, my initial impression of Prague was "chaotic."

That's not necessarily a bad thing, I guess. But there were so many people walking up and down the high street, Václavské náměstí, that I found it a bit claustrophobic.

Actually, there's something already very striking about Prague. So many signs - shop names and the like - are in English! The amount of Czech and English is almost 50-50! And the restaurant menus that Carmen, Sara Wilson (who caught up with us later), and I saw are all in multiple languages! Czech, German, English, French, Spanish, Italian, and Russian are to be found all over the pages together!

I can't say it's not interesting. And lest I give the impression that I'm not liking it here, walking along the Vltava River at night has been an enjoyable stroll...once you get past all the crowds on the Charles Bridge!

I don't know, I've barely been here, but I'm sure I will have much more to write about tomorrow.

The German word of the day is "bei dir," meaning "at your place."

An Austrian Alpine Adventure

“It’s almost 7:30, and few else are up. I got up ‘cause I wanted an early breakfast, but also just to appreciate the early morning sun over the Talen and Bergen. It’s mighty cold and quite windy here on the cliff’s edge, but the air smells great and I really cannot wait to start hiking. I hope to go as far as my body and logic will let me go. Now if only frühstück was ready!

We all set out on the trail from the hotel shortly before 10:00, in a large group that included the majority of the class. As I rubbed shoulders with the Austrian families who had just come up on the gondola, it didn’t take long to become entranced by the beauty of the mountains I had never seen before. One thing that was immediately apparent to me was the amount of wildflowers; almost everywhere I looked, there were flowers! And not just one species either! I wouldn’t be able to name them all, except that I saw white daisies, yellow dandelions, tiny bluebells, stalks of dark blue flowers all grouped together, five-petaled pink flowers, and surely others. I can’t remember ever hiking mountains in California with this many flowers on them.

It also didn’t take long to reach the first lodge on the trail. (A word about these lodges: throughout the Austrian Alps these buildings sell cooked meals to hikers. They typically have indoor seating areas and bathrooms as well. A few of them even have beds for the overnight hikers. I am not sure if backcountry camping with tents is allowed here, but these lodges do satisfy such multi-day needs.) This first lodge, the Ottohaus, has been noteworthy to past students of this program because it has its own cat, appropriately named Otto! He seemed very comfortable amongst all the hikers and appeared the kind of cat who demanded to be stroked while laying down on the wooden tables next to the railing on the cliff’s edge.

“Man, this cat just knows how to live” I chortled.

The trail started to get rather rocky and very steep past the Ottohaus, but we soon found our way up to the large metal cross erected on the nearby peak. We would encounter a second cross later on, and I get the impression that many alpine peaks have crosses on top of them. I have to wonder what sort of tradition this is and how old the crosses are. Also worth noting here is that every trail we hiked on featured rocks with colored stripes painted on them, located about every fifteen meters. These rocks were very helpful in marking where the trail was, and their colors corresponded to the colors used to draw the trails on the maps we had. The Austrian Alps are certainly very developed for all who visit them.

Multiple scenic vistas later we came to our second lodge, were I got some wurst and lemonade. I actually meant to follow Professor Stuart’s recommendation and get the half-beer half-lemonade, but I don’t think there was much beer in my drink. Oh well, I consider it punishment for using such bad German at the counter! In any case, it was very cool to be able to have such a lunch high up in the mountains with other hikers. My father and I have often joked on hikes in California that there should be In-N-Out stands on peaks and passes; well, I’ve learned that they more or less exist in Austria!


As we climbed higher, the trees disappeared and all around us was just grassy tundra. There seemed to be fewer hikers too. It was pretty peaceful, and as I had noted early in the morning, the Alpine air smelled so good and fresh, like the way you would expect cool mountain air to be like. We briskly strolled over rolling crests of grass, bushes and flowers before reaching Habsburghaus – our last lodge and the farthest we would be from the hotel. Here I couldn’t resist buying a slice of some very moist apple cake and admiring the views from behind a glass window. In fact, we all rewarded ourselves with a bit of food from the Habsburghaus. If I ever come back this way, I’ll spend a night there and see if I can’t hike further out into the mountains from there.


The way back was an alternate route so we could see unfamiliar country. I think we splintered off into separate groups, but in any case I ended up walking through some dense pine forests. Looking through the trees to mountain peaks away, I actually could make myself imagine that I was still in California. But there were many other things around me – the abundant flowers, the painted rocks, the cozy lodges here and there – that made today a uniquely Austrian and Alpine experience. This has no doubt been one of my favorite days so far.


The German word of the day is "wohin," meaning "where to."

Eisenstadt

I’m writing this from a rustic hotel room, looking out my window onto the cloudy night that is settling over the Austrian Alps. Much has happened today, the beginning of my first excursion away from Vienna.

For this outing, everyone is together and in the same place. I can hear my classmates’ voices echo down the hall beyond my door. But this morning we were all in the country town of Eisenstadt, with an approximate population of 16,000. Despite its small size it is notable for several reasons. One is that it is where Joseph Haydn lived, worked, and composed for the Esterházy family, who were the most notable landowners in the city. According to our tour guide, the Esterházys gained their wealth and power through carefully planned marriages, not unlike the Hapsburgs. And much of their fame came from being the patrons of Haydn, whom I think is more noteworthy today. I do wish I knew more about Haydn, or at least more of his music, before visiting Eisenstadt today. However, I am certainly inspired now to listen to his works, especially the masses that he composed on the main organ of the Berkirche, which we got to visit! Not only does it contain said organ (which can switch between Baroque and modern pitches), it also contains the remains of Joseph Haydn himself. His tomb is in a mausoleum, behind a heavy metal door. While looking upon his impressive resting place, I learned that his head was stolen eight days after burial! Apparently his skull only resurfaced in Vienna in 1932, but was not returned to Eisenstadt as the town was not a part of Austria at the time! It wasn’t until 1954 that the rest of Haydn’s body was finally reunited with his head.

After getting to look at some of Haydn’s original scores in the Bergkirche’s treasury, we were led on a tour of the church’s Stations of the Cross. These are a series of painted wooden sculptures depicting the events of Jesus leading up to his crucifixion. The sculptures are located all around the stone insides of the church, and a cryptic pathway leads to each one of them. The way all the figures are depicted, I can see how effective they would be in teaching illiterate followers what happened in the last moments of Jesus’s life. They are certainly impressive; I have never seen anything like them. Also impressive is the view of the Austrian countryside on the top of the Bergkirche (where the crucifixion itself is depicted).

Before venturing out through the country to the Alps, I used some of my free time in Eisenstadt to first get lunch at a beer garden (deer goulash!) then visit the Österreichishes Jüdisches Museum. I’m glad I visited it, though I think it could have been a little more informative. There some good models and depictions of grand synagogues that used to exist in Vienna, but the captions by them seemed too short (if I could have read them, that is). I did have an English booklet to carry through the museum, though it was more of a beginner’s introduction to Judaism than anything else, with only a few Austrian-specific pages. I will credit the museum on one thing that certainly hit me in the heart: in the corner of one room is a photograph from the 1930s over an Austrian street. A banner is shown stretched over the street, with “JEWS NOT WELCOME [in German]” flanked by two swastikas. I looked at this photograph, then proceeded into the next room, which to my surprise had black walls and was completely empty...save for the actually banner that I had just seen in the photograph, now hanging right in front of me. The experience was unnerving, but most certainly effective. Had I more time, I would have stayed in the Jewish Museum longer. However it was now time to head to the Alps.

One long bus ride later saw us in a green valley, with light rain on our heads and imposing peaks on our sides. We boarded the gondola with all of our luggage and ascended up the Alpine slopes in the air. I was excited. This – our trip to the Alps – has been one of the things I have been looking forward to the most on this trip. The view from the hotel on top of the peak did not fail to impress...once the rain clouds moved away, that is! In any case, the trees are green, the food is good, and the atmosphere has something distinctly Austrian about it that I have not found in my mountainous adventures in the States. No doubt I will have more Austrian Alpine experiences to write about tomorrow, after what I hope will be a long and satisfying hike! I can’t wait for it, hiking through some of the most famed mountains in the world...

The German word of the day is "kurz," meaning "short."

The Kunsthistorisches Museum and Getting Lost

"Do you have any that say 'Wien, Österreich?'"
"Sorry, no. Only 'Vienna, Austria.'"

That was the basic conversation that transpired between myself and all the owners of the touristy shops around Stephansplatz this evening. The only t-shirt that did feature Deutsch had the city and country's name stitched unobtrusively over the left breast on dark blue, as if it was trying to be humble. Geez, aren't there any German-speaking tourists that come to Wien??

In any case, that was only the insignificant end to a day that featured a Dr. O tour of the Kunsthistorisches Museum, or Art History Musuem it would be in English, I guess. It's a fabulous museum, and not to mention free for students in this program!

The only unfortunate thing about the Kunsthistorisches Museum is that the interior architecture is so grand in its neo-Renaissance style that so much space gets taken up by it. Consequently, only one third of the museum's total collection can be displayed! At least the art that I did get to see was spectacular. I really enjoy paintings from the Renaissance, Baroque and Romantic eras.

One of the paintings there that caught my attention a lot was Peter Bruegel's "Carnival Versus Lent," an allegorical depiction of the two holidays literally jousting with each other. Bruegel's paintings seem to have a lot of people painted in them, and you don't seem to notice everything that they're doing until you look close and peer beyond the obvious subjects. I ended up learning from Dr. O that the amount of people in the painting is something that an Italian Renaissance painter would never do. And come to think of it, I can't say I've ever seen any Italian Renaissance painting with more than a handful of people in it. Raphael's "Madonna of the Meadow" would be a good example, as it has just the baby Jesus, John the Baptist, and the Virgin Mary in it. Though now I am reminded that this painting by an Italian artist has a landscape in it - something that is more commonly found north of the Alps in the Renaissance!

Some other paintings that I found notable were all the works by Peter Paul Reubens. One thing I did not know until today - he did not do most of his paintings by himself. Instead he would work out a small representation of the painting he wanted, then the Flemish painters in his workshop would make the real painting for him. And no one in his day thought that this was strange at all.

I also learned that many of the Dutch Baroque painters - as exhibited in the museum - frequently painted pictures for Calvinist merchants, and these pictures were meant to be hung in private homes. I may have missed it, but I have to wonder if these Dutch Baroque painters were Calvinists themselves - or if that sect is incompatible with the word "Baroque."

When we were done after this excellent tour of an excellent museum, everyone seemed ready to go back to the apartments, but I wanted to explore Vienna a little more while there was still time in the afternoon. So I got on the nearest tram line on the Ringstrasse and decided to see where it would take me.

It ended up taking me towards the monument of the Russian soldier that I first saw on the bus tour with Dr. O. I got off the tram and decided to investigate it a little.

It's clearly meant to be a heroic tribute to the Soviet army that swept the Nazis out of the city. However I do know that many Viennese disliked the Soviet occupying forces; I believe this statue is sometimes called "The Rapist of Vienna" for obvious reasons. It's worth noting that all of the words on the monument, whether they're above the columns or on the pedestal , are in Russian. I have to wonder how many Viennese knew Russian at the time this monument was built. If there were very few, then I can't imagine that this meant much to them.

I got back on the tram and went southwards a little, along the edge of the Belvedere Palace. I got off at what looked like a busy intersection and simply decided to walk down a particular street. I was going eastwards through a slightly less busy neighborhood, waiting to see if something interesting would pop out at me. And sure enough, something did:

It was a Russian Orthodox church. Having just visited a Russian military memorial, I wondered if it was possible that this church was erected here because of the Russian occupation presence. I didn't find out when the church was constructed, but it doesn't seem too old to me. Across the street from this church, by the way, was the Iranian embassy to Austria. Walking further along down this street I found other embassies, including the one from the United Kingdom.

I got back on the same tram line that had taken me to this region, except I proceeded back up north again. I got off at a stop where everyone else aboard got off. Most went into the tram that was parked right ahead, but I decided to walk around just a bit more. I didn't know where I was going but there was still some daylight and I wanted to make the most of it. I ended up finding something I've been meaning to go to: the Haus der Musik! And just beyond it was an alley that led to a large pedestrian street. I hadn't seen this street before, but there were a lot of people walking on it so I proceeded down one direction. Suddenly with a mixture of surprise and disappointment I realized I wasn't lost anymore; the south tower of Stephansdom was visible in the sky right in front of me!

Funny how I was attracted back to the city center like a magnet. This is where I hung around in the touristy shops for a bit before deciding to call it a successfull day.

The German word of the day is "Autobahn," meaning "highway," (as immortalized in the words "Wir fahr'n fahr'n fahr'n auf der Autobahn").

Inside Stephansdom

I have visited St. Stephen's several times already, but until today I hadn't actually explored the inside of the church. That changed today, thanks to Dr. O and her tour guide talent.

The tour really began outside on the Stephansplatz, by a small model of the cathedral and by a glass display case showing photographs of the cathedral in the immediate aftermath of World War II. Apparently sparks from a fire in an adjacent building set the wooden roof of St. Stephen's alight, causing it to collapse. The photos revealed the rubble that was on the floor and the light that didn't always shine in between the clustered piers that held up the gothic arches. (I would later see the reconstructed arches for myself inside the cathedral.) Also while we were outside on Stephansplatz, Professor Stuart asked us to answer this question: How do you feel about the modern glass building next to Stephansdom?

I am told that the Viennese have been revolted by the building's existence, much in the way that the Parisians have been revolted by the glass pyramid in front of the Louvre. Personally, I will say that I do think it does look out of place. Combined with all the other buildings around it, it's a bit crass next to a structure that has served as the geographical and cultural center of Vienna for so long. However, I suppose such construction was inevitable, and as I can do nothing about it, I have to accept it.

Going inside Stephansdom, Dr. O revealed to us how late the gothic cathedral had been completed - 1500! This greatly surprised me, as this was more or less the middle of the Renaissance era. And yet, Renaissance elements can be found in this outwardly gothic church. Perhaps the most notable examples are the two self-portraits of the scultpor Anton Pilgrim, who designed the stairway to the pulpit and the organ loft. How interesting, that he was allowed to do this.

I was sorry to hear that almost all of the original stained glass windows were removed in the Baroque era. Maybe it was part of Joseph II's plan for more "practicality" in the city? In any case, what a shame that the majority of the windows are light pastel rectangles.

After the tour ended, most people seemed to go back to the apartments, but I wanted to stay out more and explore the city a bit. So I made up my own mind and took the U6 out to Handelskai station, right on the bank of the Danube. I just wanted to explore the vicinity, see the river, make the most of the daylight left... It just seemed like a good idea and I was feeling a little adventurous.
As I sat on the riverbank, I wrote this in the notebook I had with me:

"The Danube is not as beautifully blue as Strauss would have me believe but the riverbanks themselves are just fine. Many people here seem to be relaxing on the grass, walking their dogs, jogging... Except for the trains on the nearby bridges and the barge slowly making its way upstream, it's a nice place. I should like to bike up the Danube if I can find the time."

Walking back to the U-bahn station I passed through the Millenium City shopping mall and played the game that my friend invented when we were in Calgary together: count how many stores in the mall have "Sale" signs in the windows! This mall was only about 40-50% filled with sale signs; according to my mother, that means it's more upscale! But all in all shopping malls don't interest me too much.

What was more interesting was seeing a guy with a t-shirt featuring the words "South Cali" on it in west coast colors. I've seen several people wearing shirts from Hollister Co. or other designs evocative of my home state. This is a little strange, being so far away from home yet seeing it still manifest itself around me. I am reminded of how Aaron Copland once visited Vienna as a student and found American jazz being played in a cafe, and how odd that was for him. (His first symphonies would end up incorporating jazz elements in them.) I'm not sure what to say on these strange occurrences, other than it makes me appreciate home a little more if people on the other side of the world like it that much to feature it on their shirts.

The German word of the day is "Krieg," meaning "war."

Die Freud und Die Fledermaus

What a fantastic night! I am so thrilled that I just saw Johann Strauss's Die Fledermaus in the same theater where it was first premiered!

It was definitely the highlight of this day, which began in the late morning with a visit to the Sigmund Freud Museum. Being a psychology major, this felt a bit obligatory, though not unhappily so. How could I resist visiting Freud's home and clinic when I'm in his native city? I thus came to Bergasse 19 with another student (Wendy Yu) who originally had the idea to see the museum today. I unfortunately didn't get any pictures, as my camera is a bit broken at the present time. But in any case, here's what I saw:

Freud's waiting room was kept almost exactly as it was when he held his practice in the same residence. The couches, table, and decorations. These decorations, or archaeological artifacts rather, were interesting to me. I did not know that Freud was a collector of statuettes from ancient Egypt and China. They apparently were kept in the same room where he performed psychoanalysis with his patients.

That room, as well as the adjacent one, was re-paved and now has assorted photographs and letters on the walls. I had been given a small booklet that told me the significance of each photo and letter, with some interspersed quotes from Freud. (Among my favorite is this from 1933: "What progress we are making. In the Middle Ages they would have burnt me; nowadays they are content with burning my books.") There was certainly plenty to read and look at, however I wished I had read a biography of Freud before coming to the museum. Such provided knowledge would have aided in seeing Freud's story, or perhaps filled in a gap of a role that the museum could otherwise provide.

Other rooms featured film footage narrated by his daughter Anna Freud as well as an account of how Anna strove to found the museum. One display told of how unperturbed she was about hearing criticism of her father's writings. Indeed, it is worth noting that psychoanalysis received little attention in Austria even up 'til the 1970s, when it had already become academic canon in many other countries.

Also in the museum was a small library of books by both Sigmund and Anna, available for anyone to read. I would have liked to read through a few of them, but it seemed to Carmen and I that we had spent a lot of time already in the museum.

We ventured out and proceeded to see where our feet would take us, since we had a bit of time before the opretta. We ultimately walked past the Rathaus and the large public movie screen that shows free screenings of artful films almost every night. That would be worth checking out sometime later. We also encountered a sort of monument in the middle of the park between the Rathaus and the Heldenplatz, featuring stone reliefs of Austrian mythical stories juxtaposed with ancient Greek ones. Very interesting, that would be worth investigating later also.

Eventually it came time to put on some nicer attire and go to the Theater an der Wien (though not before sharing some champagne in a wine shop/restaurant a block away!). When I first stepped inside the theater, I was awestruck. It was a little smaller than I imagined, but the decor astounded me. It incredibly baroque like many of the churches I have seen so far; imagine something out of Amadeus to get a good mental picture. At other points in this trip when I've seen something incredibly historic (like the crown of the Holy Roman Emperor for instance) I've had a hard time grasping the significance of the place or object and convincing myself of it's historicity. Not so with the Theater an der Wien! It was not hard at all to imagine myself sitting down in the 19th century to see Strauss himself conduct in the orchestra pit. What a treat!

And what a treat Die Fledermaus was! The production had fairly modern costume, though this did not impede the overall performance. I am no great expert on operas, but I greatly admired the dancing, the interlude ballet, the music...everything such a delight, and the English subtitles (or rather side-titles) helped with my advance reading of the libretto. The set, I'd like to mention, seemed to be an extension of the theater itself, wrapping around the background of the stage with extras sitting in identical boxes. So when Rosalinde (as the Hungarian countess) whispered "Musik..." in an awestruck voice while the lights on the set dimmed to match those of the theater, it seemed for a brief moment as if performers and audience were the same, held captive by the same entrances, admiring the music of Strauss that was so central to this spectacle of an experience. Perhaps in that case it should come as no surprise to me that the orchestra received the loudest and most enthusiastic applause at the conclusion of the performace.

I think I'd definitely like to hear more Strauss performed while in Vienna. I only wish that I could see more operas as well.

The German word of the day is "hoffen," meaning "to hope."

The Naschmarkt and Karlskirche

Today seemed to get off to a lazy start, perhaps due to staying up late last night at Klosterneuberg. But eventually seven of us decided to go check out the Naschmarkt again, since Saturdays are when the flea market portion of it is open. I must say, I was a little disappointed in the flea market; I thought I would see dozens upon dozens of rare and strange antiques for sale. Not that I didn't, it just seemed that most of the vendors had a lot of junk that was uninteresting to me. Or maybe I'm just the kind of person who hardly lets himself buy anything he doesn't need. Or maybe it was the fact that the drizzling rain caused a lot of vendors to pack up early, or obscure their goods with tarps and covers. Yet in any case, I was glad that I still took the time to visit this weekly event at the Naschmarkt. Maybe it would be worth coming back again, but I guess I'll just have to wait and see.

Because the Karlskirche was close by, we decided to go visit that afterward. It would have been great if I could have taken pictures here, but there is just something really wrong with my camera... Anyhow, this was another incredibly baroque church. It's undergoing renovation inside at present, so there's a tall scaffold that reaches up to the top of the church's dome. And amazingly, the public is allowed to ride the elevator up to the top of it! Now this was a really neat experience - being mere feet away from the elaborate frescoes that adorn the inside of the dome. I really wanted to spend more time at the top of the elevator, admiring all the frescoes from up close, but everyone else was leaving, and I felt compelled to go with them. I wouldn't have minded staying longer.

The German word of the day is "beantworten," meaning "to answer."

Klosterneuberg

Today was a day I had been looking forward to ever since I first heard about it at the orientation meeting for this program: Stift Kosterneuberg.

It actually began with Daryl Chan, Michael McMahon, and myself giving a quick lecture about the Karl Marx-Hof at the Karl Marx-Hof, since our bus to the abbey was departing from nearby there. In any case...the Karl Marx-Hof is a prime example of Red Vienna architecture, "Red Vienna" being the period in the early 1920s when the city was under an effective socialist government. The apartment complex was considered to be very advanced for its day as it had low gas and electricity rates, no charge for running water, en-suite bathrooms, and excellent launderies, nursery schools, libraries, and green areas. For the worker who stood with socialist causes, this was an excellent improvement in living conditions. People still live there today, even decades after the Austro-fascist paramilitary Heimwehr bombarded revolters into surrender during the Austrian Civil War.

When our brief stop there was complete we proceeded to the abbey at Klosterneuberg, where we were greeted by American-born canons (not monks!) who gave us free champagne made at the abbey after taking us through their gardens. They soon took us throughout their abbey, which been around for quite a long time. This was evidenced by the stark changes in architectural style that certain buildings next to each other would have. And although many of the halls in the abbey have gothic arches, there are also living quarters - imperial living quarters - that are completely done up in Baroque style. I am told that the imperial residence rooms here at Klosterneuberg are rather similar to the rooms found at Schonbrunn Palace.

There was one piece of history there that stood out sharply from the rest of the abbey - the Verdun Altar. It is an incredible piece of medieval religious artwork.


There are three rows of pictures going across it, all of which tell a certain Biblical story. But each column of pictures is also supposed to share similar elements, even though they both depict different scenes from different stories!

After other events passed, we all ate dinner together at our first heuriger, where we got to chat a lot with the canons as we ate. One of them, Dom Gabriel, used to be a computer consultant in Santa Barbara. He said he's never regretted giving it up and coming out to Klosterneuberg. I can certainly sympathize with him. I don't think I'd like to have such a job like that. And even though I am admittedly not very religious, I would find being a canon much more fulfilling somehow.

The German word of the day is "bereit," meaning "ready."

A Little Bit of the Macabre

My fellow classmates seem to have made me thee navigator of the U-bahn! A couple of them were rather freaked out when a train was in the Burgasse-Stadthalle station (the closest one to the apartments) and they saw that I was in it when they weren’t! I promptly got off to join them; apparently they were waiting for some other students to come, and I guess they all rely on me to navigate the system! I’m fine with this designation, though I find the U-bahn to be very easy to use. Consequently, I probably like it more than some of my cohorts!

Following a lecture on Catholicism versus Protestantism, a group of us went to visit the geographical center of Catholicism in Vienna: St. Stephen's Cathedral. Actually our goal was to climb to the top of its tallest tower, which is no easy task, given that there is only one very narrow spiral staircase, and both visitors going up and down have to share it. The views from the top, however, are very much worth the climb!

Shortly thereafter another epicenter of Catholicism was visited: the nearby Peterskirche. Now, when I first entered this church, my jaw dropped as I said a quiet "Wow" to myself. That was probably the idea behind the extremely baroque interior: to get followers to say "Wow!" as they come to worship.


Also in the Peterskirche are the relics and remains of a few saints:


I must apologize for the blurriness of the picture, but I hope it's easy to tell that there are remains behind that glass! I wish I knew just how long that body has been sitting there, and just how it was treated immediately after it died. I have read that the Viennese seem to have a fascination with death (especially one's own), so I wonder how this saint's body ties into that.

I would end up seeing more objects of the macabre later in the evening, when most of the class went out to the Zentralfriedhof cemetary. This cemetary is notable for several reasons. Apart from being extremely large, it contains the tombs of some of the most well-known musicians associated with Vienna - both Straussess, Brahms, Beethoven... Other noteworthy figures' final resting places can be found here. But the area of the cemetary that was of particular interest to our class was the Jewish area.



The gravestones here are markedly different from those in the rest of the cemetary. Many of them have tumbled into pieces. Many others are choking under overgrown plants. It is clear that the Jewish portion of the Zentralfriedhof has not been as well-kept as other portions, and I am forced to wonder why. Is it related to anti-semitism? Certainly many of the buried Jews here don't have much family around to have their graves attended to.

I found the whole area to be a bit depressing. It's like...even in death, the Jews of Vienna cannot escape having themselves and their names be disregarded. Their unattended headstones and tombs means that they can still be touched, still be insulted. I think this day has made me realize that I do not want to be buried in a specific locale when I die and have a headstone placed nearby me, for I would not want anything still attached to my name to be allowed the opportunity to be vandalized. I just want to be gone and free. I know these aren't exactly the most positive thoughts...but then again, I didn't find the Zentralfriedhof to be the most positive place.

The German word of the day is "wirtschaftlich," meaning "economical."

"Why did this have to happen?"

Definitely the nicest part of today was my first visit to the Naschmarkt at lunchtime. We found this really great cheese shop there and the man running it was so nice and welcoming to us that he had us get our picture taken behind the counter, with countless wheels of cheese on the shelves behind us! He said we had such great California/west coast smiles too. As everyone else was walking out to go elsewhere in the Naschmarkt, I slowly walked out backwards, wondering out loud why we hadn't bought any cheese (for I get easily excited by large selections of unique cheese). Seeing this, the owner invited me back in and gave me four balls of mozzarella from southern Italy for free. I've been planning on visiting the Nashmarkt again on Saturday, and I will definitely visit his store again.

Much of the rest of the day was spent at the Heeresgeschichtliches Museum, where Austria displays its military history. It's in a very large and grand brick building, which looked somewhat odd to me at first sight.I am not well-versed in architecture, but the exterior didn't strike me as particularly Austrian, or at least nothing like the rest of Vienna. The exact word that I thought of was "Turkish," which would be rather ironic considering Turkey's role in Austria's history. Those episodes are certainly displayed within the museum, and in particular there's one such item that especially captured my attention. It's this painting:

The painting is a depiction of a battle against the Turks (I wish I could remember which one). On the lower left you can see the Austrians, with noble, handsome faces and serene expressions. Directly across from them are the Turks, with rather opposite depictions. Austria met the Turkish armies more than any other country in Europe, and this must have certainly affected their views of them.

I visited many other exhibits covering the late Reformation and early Baroque eras (maybe not the best way to define the periods in this context, but you get the idea). One thing I found interesting was about the uniforms of the Austrian soldiers. They were typically white with some sort of bold color trim. These uniforms were certainly very impressive-looking and I imagine that a whole army of men wearing them would look like a united force to be reckoned with. However, display captions informed me that these uniforms were actually dangerous in the sense that the soldiers were so much easier to see and target. If these stylistic choices were of the Hapsburg's decisions, then I guess they preferred style over substance - or rather safety.

Certainly the thing that I was most interested in seeing before I went to the museum was the car that Archduke Franz Ferdinand was sitting in when he was assasinated. I am fascinated by very specific things and locations from which monumental historical events sprang forth. This was one of them. I could look at the black leather seats in the car and say "This is where World War I began." The coat that Franz Ferdinand was wearing at the time was just a few meters away too; you can see the hole that the bullet made. I won't post any pictures of these incredibly significant pieces of history as the event they are related to is still incredibly tragic. In fact, words of Ruth Kluger came into my mind at this time; I will undoubtedly discuss her later in the month.

One more wing of the museum that held my attention was that of the period between the end of World War I and the end of World War II. Propaganda posters, Nazi armbands, SS helmets...these were what I found there. I don't think I've ever seen old Nazi insignia and uniforms in person, so it was not undisconcerting to me. I even saw old flags from the brief Austro-fascist era, which fit in well with their future Nazi replacements. There are two items from this wing that I would like to note: one is an old American army jeep, which is interesting as the United States was fighting against Austria...or at least the country that Austria had been absobed into. The other is a collection of three-dimensional art, feauring graphic and disturbing depictions of Hitler, brandishing bloody knives over human brains amidst barbed wire and torn-off body parts. Certainly, the artist is against Hitler (as I would be) but the art is nonetheless disturbing since it holds no punches and aims directly for the heart of the viewer with it's graphic imagery. I almost took a picture of one section of the piece, showing Hitler with a real wolf's head in place of his face, but even this I found too nightmarish to capture. You really have to see this piece for yourself.

I interpret the inclusion of this artwork (which has no direct military significane) as Austria trying to show that it recognizes what it was a part of, or what it let itself become a part of. Some Austrians may want to focus on the future and keep the difficult past out of mind, but here Austrians have dragged the past out into the exposing spotlight for all to see, with absolutly no sugar-coating and an audio-guide that implores "Why did this have to happen?" I think the country is still struggling with it's role in World War II, and I can only guess as to when Austria can unanimously look at it's past without looking away.

The German word of the day is "wahrscheinlich," meaning "probably."