Butterfly's Landing

The pace of today has turned out to be the perfect balance to yesterday - instead of visiting 7 churches, we focused ourselves only on one. Having fallen onto a day with minimal activity, we allowed the splendor of the church to resonate within both the dome itself and within ourselves. Today's church : Karlskirche.

In 1713, the bubonic plague hit Vienna for a second time, devastating its ruler Emperor Charles VI. At the plague's end, Charles vowed to build a church out of thanksgiving, naming it after St. Charles' of Borromeo who helped and cared for the victims of the plague. Thus, at the plague's end, Charles commissioned Fischer von Erlach and his son Joseph to design the church, starting construction in 1719 and completing the church in 1739.

The church is massive in both size and presence, and neither pictures nor words can do it justice. The architecture of the church is unique; it is typically classified as baroque. Ferdinand II, Ferdinand III, and Leopold I were all patrons of the church, funding for the redesign of the churches from gothic to baroque (Parsons, 106). However, Karlskirche does not solely fit into the category of baroque as the churches of yesterday most certainly do. Karlskirche combines the baroque style with Roman, Greek, and oriental flair. Together, all the different types of architecture give off a Byzantine aura. This combination of architectural styles is by all means appropriate since Vienna itself was the gateway between Christendom and Islam, east and west.

The church itself is an obvious reference to St. Peter's Basilica in Rome, what with the dome and the columns. The dome is of the oriental style, reflecting such churches as St. Mark's in Venice and the Duomo in Florence. The columns and statues (one Old and one New Testament angel) in the front reflect Roman and Greek styles, themselves reflections one of the other.

The two towers are modeled after Trajan's column in Rome, but instead of depicting victories from war, scenes from the life of St. Charles are depicted. Inspiration is also taken from the two towers which once flanked the temple in Jerusalem and the towers of Hercules. Thus, the outside of the church flawlessly combines the architectural styles of the east and the west, using St. Peter's in Rome as a blueprint for both style and presence.

Karlskirche is not only grand in size, emphasized by its dominating structure and the amount of detail portrayed in the baroque style, but it is even grander in its attempt at capturing the spirit of God within the sanctuary. Upon entering, the eye is torn between the marble and gold which surround the church. I believe that this feeling of awe and wonder and smallness in the midst of such greatness was the designer's intent; to use natural light, high glass windows, marble pillars and gold filigree to create a dance of textures.

Above the wooden doors leading into the church is a massive coat of arms flanked by two angels blowing trumpets. The crest is both that of Charles VI and that of Spain, since in 1700 Charles succeeded his relative and became Charles III of Spain. Above the crest is the grand organ, surrounded by angels and cherubs playing a variety of instruments, illustrating the silent "noise" that such a grand church is able to give off. In the front of the church is the masterpiece of the designer. The main focal point is the sculpture of St. Charles' glorification,

flanked by angels and hovering underneath the golden glory of heaven. The pillars surrounding this are topped by the four fathers of the western church, namely St. Gregory the Great, St. Ambrose, St. Augustine, and St. Jerome. Also near the pillars of the church fathers are cherubs holding putties of the four evangelists, Matthew, Mark, Luke and John. These eight men portrayed have a very specific purpose, uniting the past tradition and theology of the Old Testament with the new theology introduced in the gospels of the New Testament. Above both the sculpture of St. Charles and these eight men is the Hebrew Tetragrammaton carved into the gold rays suspended in the arched window. Above these pieces of art, painted onto the arched ceiling is a portrayal of the lamb, the altar of God and His presence of fire, Mary and baby Jesus, and the book of seals, again referencing both the Old and New Testaments.

On each side of the church, between the pulpit and the door, are three separate chapels, each with a different purpose and baroque painting. One chapel that stood out was the painting of St. Luke painting the mother of God. Supposedly, this was a prominent topic for baroque painters, what with St. Luke being the patron saint of the painters' guild. Another beautiful chapel contained the painting by Daniel Gran of St. Elizabeth (St. Isabel in Spanish) of Portugal, who cared for the poor and the sick. St. Elizabeth, as well as a modern portrait of Mother Theresa in a neighboring chapel, quietly reinforce the origins of the church as being a church built in thanksgiving for living through sickness and poverty. A third chapel of interest was that with a large painting of the assumption of Mary, flanked on the bottom by two sculptures representing her virtue, and on top by two smaller paintings of both the annunciation and the visitation. In the last temple on the left side of the church, looking up through the ceiling and up into a smaller dome is a fresco of Mary, the protector of the Holy Roman Empire.

Fortunately the frescos on the dome of the church are being restored. Normally this would pose a problem for those wanting to view the dome; however, they cleverly built a platform on which one can view the frescos within the dome itself.

Taking the elevator up to the platform was the longest elevator ride ever, soaring farther and farther away from the safe and stable ground. At the platform, the dull colors of the frescos seen from ground level come alive, with scenes depicting St. Charles' intercession, Christ's cross, and most prominently Christ being greeted by the open arms of His Father (alluding possibly to the story of the prodigal son, although in a different context altogether). A further climb takes one up the dome and inside of the bell tower, with views of the whole city.

The display of wealth, grandeur, and power within Karlskirche is inseparable from the Habsburg rulers who built and used this church, much as the "Habsburg emperors' display of power was...inseparable from their reality" (Spielman, 103).

After Karlskirche, the exhaustion from so much visual symbolism and theology led us straight to Demel on Kohlmarkt, for tea, sacher torte, and some time to digest what we had seen.

Later in the afternoon, we went as a group to the Central Cemetery - something I was NOT looking forward to but which was later redeemed by its sheer beauty. We entered through the Catholic gates (there are three gates) and the whole of the air was saturated with green and ivy and grass and clear air. For as green as downtown Vienna may be, nothing rivals the green found outside of a city.

We walked down the main boulevard and came upon a grassy area where the graves of Beethoven, Mozart, Strauss and Shubert are all located. Butterflies were dancing around among the flowers, and even landing on my head - extremely beautiful. From the Catholic graves we walked to the Jewish graves, with a distinct 'divide' between the two. As opposed to the well-kept Catholic graves, the Jewish graves were overrun with ivy, deer, and tumbled stone. For as beautiful as the ivy and green was, it was quite sad to see the obvious lack of family left to care for the graves.

After the cemetery we walked to a nearby dinner. Unfortunately I was not sitting with any of the three people on the trip who know German, so Sidney, Daryl and I closed our eyes and randomly pointed to a meal - luckily they were all delicious. For dessert, the best apfelstudel of the trip so far!

In all, it was a slow-paced day but filled to the brim with visual impact. Karlskirche is too much to take in all at once, and will definitely require a couple more trips simply to sit and take it all in.