Feast of St. Augustine

Today we were able to travel back to Stift Klosterneuburg to attend the feast of St. Augustine of Hippo, coinciding with the swearing of vows for many of the canons.

The canons at Klosterneuburg are Augustinian canons, meaning they follow the rule and lifestyle first dictated by St. Augustine of Hippo in his Augustinian Rule. Following this rule, the canons share common prayer and common meals, living together and studying theology for their future clerical work. As opposed to the last time we went for the tour, yesterday we were able to see the entire range of canons since all participated in the special mass.

There were about 50 or 60 men, all decked out in their canon attire, and there was quite a range of ethnicities as well; southeast asians, eastern asians, one african american, americans - all speaking German and Latin. At the end of the procession into the church followed the altar boys, boys and girls in their early teenage years who were in charge of procession, and those novices who were in their trial year at Klosterneuburg. The strangest and most unexpected thing to happen however, was the entering of six teenage boys dressed in pale blue military attire with riding boots and funny looking hats. Each of them had a sword and sheath, both highly ornamented. They came in before the monks and stood at the front in a stance of symbolic protection. Since I am not versed in Augustinian tradition, nor can I read German or the information booklet handed to us, I was not able to figure out what they are.

The mass itself was very long - around two hours - and consisted of much purifying, standing and sitting and standing, communion, offerings, and most importantly the renewal of vows by the canons. The provost was there to bless the new canons and to precede over the affairs - the provost is elected by the canons for either life or 10 year terms. The first set of vows was the simple vows taken by three novitiates. They had already undergone their first year, and were ready to commit to three years within the community, preparing for the priesthood. Dom Kilian, whom I was able to talk to when we all went to the wine garden during our last visit, was one of these three who was taking his simple vows, as was Dom Ambrose who also had dinner with us.

The next set of vows were the solemn vows - those canons who have completed their commitment of three years and are ready to engage in priesthood, binding themselves to the chapter (Stift Klosterneuburg) and their community of lay people. Three other canons took this vow, one of them being Dom Gabriel from the wine garden. This vow is a bit more ritualistic than the simple vow - those taking the vow are required to lay prostrate before the altar and the provost and are stripped of their previous shawls, which are then replaced with a sarozium (sacred rochet) - a white lacy tunic historically worn by the choir and which now symbolizes worship to God. These canons are also given a purple mozzetta (cape) and they are given new sashes - the old fringe being replaced with tassels. All this decorum is given to the canons upon the signing of their solemn vows (they personally write out the vows before the ceremony).

After the vows, there was more chanting and purification and a German sermon - it was hard to follow due to the language barrier. After the service ended, there was a reception for the canons and their family and friends, but it was so crowded that we opted for lunch elsewhere. We ended up meeting the cutest Viennese ladies (around the age of 80) - we were all waiting for the bus, but the bus was extremely late. These two women had come from Vienna as well, but spoke only German so the conversations ensued many hand motions. Luckily Zach was with us and was able to use his German skills to find our bus and talk to these ladies. Talking to Viennese outside of Vienna, they actually tend to be quite nice!

Having the opportunity to witness the vows at Klosterneuburg was truly a neat experience, one not to be had by many. To be the audience of such a time honored tradition, deeply seeped in both religious and political importance, was unbelievable - it was as if we were transported back in time watching canons of days gone by make their vows. Furthermore, to not merely be witnesses, but to actually know a handful of the canons taking their vows - that was priceless.

Jesuitenkirche

It seems that the best advice I have gotten has been from locals, in particular, two men - one a canon at a monastery and the other an intern at the U.N..

The canon told me to try Oberlaa cafe for coffee and cake - it is now our favorite cafe and it does, indeed, have the best melange and apflestrudel around.

The U.N. intern told me to find the Jesuit Church and explore the inside, since it is one of the finest gems of the baroque style in Vienna.

So, today after class and lunch, I decided to get lost. I started walking on Kohlmarkt, but instead of heading to the Hofburg, I walked the opposite direction and then southwest down to the Ringstrasse. However, although I knew the general direction of where I was heading, I hadn't yet explored the small streets and alleys in that part of the innerstadt. As i wandered, I came upon a small square that would almost appear as a dead end if not for a small archway under a building leading through the plaza. There were some restaurants, and the building for the old University of Vienna took up the main center of the square. To the left though, there stood a huge church, tucked in between tall buildings so it was almost unnoticed. This style of churches blending into other buildings harks back to Joseph II's Edict of Toleration, where other religions were allowed under the empire but Protestant and Jewish churches and synagogues could not stand out as buildings - they could not look like churches. It turns out that here, I had unknowingly stumbled upon the baroque gem which I was told to seek out.

The history of the Jesuit Church and the presence of Jesuits in Vienna is interesting. After the liberal and Protestant-leaning emperor Maximilian II died, Archduke Charles invited the Jesuits to Vienna to play a role in the Catholic Counter-Reformation. The Jesuits positioned themselves near the Am Hof, where they initially obtained control over university education, thus using public education as a platform for their doctrine. However, they soon moved to the church's current location near the old University of Vienna so as to have more control and influence over education and in fighting Protestantism and to align themselves with the philosophy and theology departments of the school. The church was built between 1623 and 1627, influenced by early baroque styles and motifs. However, the church was rebuilt and refashioned into an even heavier style of baroque under the architect Andrea Pozzo in 1703 (completed in 1705) who was commissioned by Leopold I. The original church had been dedicated to Saint Ignatius Loyola and his co-founder of the Society of Jesus, Francis Xavier, but the remodeled church was rededicated to the Assumption of the Virgin Mary.

Compared to the relatively plain facade (almost reminiscent of a Renaissance courtyard or the like), the inside is the epitome of baroque. Marble twisted columns rise up on each side of the many chapels extending off of the main aisle of the church. The pews are carved with intricate details, the ceiling is covered with four massive frescos, and the gold work on the pulpit, altar, and the ceiling is quite astounding. Pozzo painted frescos of angels, the trinity, and other biblical scenes in the style of quadratura, where architecture, painting, and sculpture are united under illusionary scenes. This combination of styles allows the viewer to see a fresco as three dimensional; the church's ceiling is a sort of trompe l'oeil, playing with perspective and with illusions - the actual ceiling of the church is flat instead of domed as in the ceiling's fresco.

On another note, I watched The Third Man last night, an Orson Welles movie filmed in the 1950's in postwar Vienna. It was neat to go around today while getting "lost" and recognize certain locations within the film. Also, there was a neat connection between the postwar theme of the movie which emphasizes the east meeting the west, and the NYTimes articles I drew upon yesterday when discussing Vienna as a cultural, espionage, and diplomatic center between the east and west. It is intriguing to see the aspects of postwar Vienna which have evolved and those which have been transformed into something different - such as the notion of Vienna as a literal and figurative meeting place between the east and the west which still rings true today, yet the cultural fear of the police and the suspicion nurtured within the people by the occupation of different zones after 1945 is no longer evident within the city.

Today's German Word:

Fußball - 'soccer'

Stephansdom

Today we had class then found a cute deli for lunch (the first and only 'deli' I have seen in the city) and then met for a tour of the inside of Stephensdom; the church itself is notoriously hard to get in to. We also were able to visit the Kaisergruft, a relatively simple church which houses the bodies of the prestigious member of the Habsburg empire, thus eternally weaving together the Habsburg's imperial authority with the will of God, uniting the crown with the altar. The bodies are buried under the Kaisergruft, the hearts in the Augustinerkirche, and the entrails are buried in St. Stephen's church. Thus, the Habsburg mortuary rituals are based upon the union between church and state, uniting the Habsburg family with the work of God and furthering their justification as absolutist monarchs.

The church was built in the mid-12th century in the Romanesque style (heavy, dark) on the outskirts of Vienna's city walls in order to lure a bishop to the town and qualify the church as a cathedral. It is built in the shape of a Roman cross, with the smaller transept and the larger beam as the church's guiding blueprint. In the 14th century (1304) the church was rebuilt in the early gothic style, the builders renovating from east to west. Renovation in those times had the notion of erasing the old and instating the new, thus the gothic replaced the Romanesque; today's idea of renovation embodies conservation. The rebuilding began in the back south tower (east) and moved towards the front. However, by the time the front was reached, it was nearing 1500, the period when the high Renaissance was in full swing (Michaelangelo's David was being sculpted, and Da Vinci's Last Supper was already finished). Thus, there was little interest in completing the front facade in the gothic style. Also, as the century moved on, the gothic style became more ornate (late gothic) - the rear was less ornate and the front tended towards gaudiness. During these many renovations, however, the church was still able to hold services, with the old Roman section being used. Thus, when the building stopped, the facade became the oldest part of the church, and the rear the second oldest. Oddly enough, the patterned roof is not as old as the church itself. In 1945 at the war's end, a fire broke out, causing the old wooden roof to cave in. Luckily, the cluster piers (the inside pillars) and the ribbing on the ceiling were strong enough to hold the walls up, and the loss of the roof was more of a visual disaster than a structural one.

Inside, the church is amazing; the vertical cluster piers bring the eye up and the stained glass windows create shades of color. As a group, we were able to go within the gated central portion of the church, getting detailed views and information about the various parts of the church.

The most interesting piece of architecture within the church is the pulpit, situated farther back within the church rather than at the front. It was built in 1500, during the period of the latest gothic style (extremely ornate). The last gothic stone mason was its sculptor, Master Anton

Pilgrim. This late gothic piece is one of the last of its kind, as the high Renaissance was gaining momentum during this same period. The pulpit itself is made from three distinct pieces of sandstone, with the four fathers of the western church (St. Gregory the Great, St. Ambrose, St. Jerome, St Augustine) sculpted on the top portion; they also represent the four humors, the four ages of man, and the four western virtues (temperance, fortitude, prudence, justice). He also included himself below the pulpit peering from a window, reflecting the changing styles of gothic into Renaissance (Renaissance artists valued the human form, often times over God, thus including themselves in their artwork). The railing of the staircase leading up to the pulpit contains circles with distinct portions, alternating (3 portions - 4 portions - 3 portions), the three (trinity) representing the heavens rolling up and the four (earth's elements, directions, seasons) representing the earth rolling down. [There are also 343 steps leading to the top of the south tower which we climbed last week]. These alternating circles show the connection between heaven and earth, with the message from God coming down in the sermon to earth.

There are also sculpted toads climbing up the banister, and a dog (fidelity) at the top, representing good conquering evil. The pulpit was later criticized, leading Master Pilgrim to declare that if it fell, he would bear it on his shoulders for the rest of eternity. Oddly enough, he painted himself on the facing wall under the organ loft, "bearing" his second masterpiece.

Another piece of architectural interest is the baptismal in the small chapel of St. Catherine in the transept. It was carved from wood in 1390 in the late gothic style, and is famous for its baptism of the children of Mozart. Outside of the chapel is a statue of the "Serving Madonna," a curved gothic statue of the Madonna and Christ child. Legend has it that it was once owned by a rich woman, but donated it to the church after it revealed to the lady her long lost diamond bracelet.

The tomb in the back of the church of Frederick III is also of interest, since in 1446 Frederick was responsible for finally bringing a bishop to Vienna. The tomb was commissioned before Frederick's death, but both Frederick and its builder died before the tomb was finished. Thus, his body was temporarily buried elsewhere while the apprentice finished the tomb (it took a total of 40 years to build). The themes on top and surrounding it also reflect good conquering evil.

The alter is positioned in front of two stained glass windows, both dating from 1340, thus considered the latest within the church. They are the original pieces of stained glass, having avoided "renovation" (replacement) and the world wars. The window's panels show the story of the Bible (although now it is not complete with most of the panels having been removed). These panels served as a way for those illiterate and too poor to own a Bible (this was most of society then) to understand the Word of God and to learn of their faith.

A painting of the stoning of St. Stephen, the first martyr, is below, painted in the baroque style. Finally, the golden altar piece to the left of the main altar has engraved on it AEIOU (Austriae est imperare orbi universo - It is for Austria to rule the whole world), the slogan of Frederick III used to justify his divine right to rule, thus connecting the throne and the altar. It was conceived within a "dynasty with a [perceived] God-given mission to rule to Christian Empire" (Beller 83).

Outside of the church stands the Haas Haus, a postmodernist building designed by Hans Hollein in 1990. It caused quite a scandal when erected, facing Stephansdom in a posture of defiance, and at times drawing more of a crowd than the church itself. This juxtaposition of architectural styles begs the question, how is Vienna remembered? What is the memory? How is St. Stephens remembered and venerated? This trend of the old facing the new is also seen with the Louvre and its new glass triangle in front. This Hass Haus seems to be moving forward from the religious past associated with St. Stephen's

and with Vienna's whole history. Does this postmodern architecture aim at capturing a Viennese culture which has been so badly tarnished in the past? Does it aim at creating a new culture, frustrated with attempting at resurrecting a sense of identity from history? Or does it indeed represent a past culture, thus the significant opposition of architecture?

The Haas Haus is not ugly; in fact it is quite beautiful. However, its proximity to St. Stephen's undermines both its own beauty and the significance of St. Stephen's. I believe that it is both attempting to capture and draw out a fleeting sense of culture from the past with its striking difference in styles, but it is also attempting at creating a more firm reality of the modern Viennese psyche giving a sense of national and personal identity to Viennese citizens and allowing them a chance to move forward out of history.

Today's German Word:

Krieg - 'war'

The Weekend

Our first weekend in Vienna has come to a close - we have officially been here for a full week. It feels like so much longer; on any regular vacation our time would be coming to a close, but there are still three weeks left! We have seen so many churches, have had a lot of great coffee, and seen a lot, but only on Sunday were we able to make it to our first museum, the Imperial Treasury! It seems like we will never be able to explore the whole city, even in the course of a month!

On Saturday, Sidney and I were picked up by our friend Reinfried (a friend of my aunt and uncle whom they met when they were recently in Vienna) and his wife, and our first stop was Cafe Sperl for a Franziskaner, espresso with whipped cream. Then we all went to the Naschmarkt, a large permanent open air food bazaar and flea market that extends forever.

It can be likened to Seattle's Pike's Place, or even a larger version of the town farmer's markets in Davis, except with an attached flea market. We spent two hours walking around, visiting the different stalls. Apparently the flea market is run mostly by the gypsies selling stolen goods, so we spent a little less time there and a little more time with the food. The food stalls were everywhere - spices, tea, breads, desserts, fish, meats, vegetables - the whole place smelled exotic and delicious! We walked past a small hungarian booth where the men were handing out

samples of some sort of bread. Luckily, we stopped to sample, because it was the most amazing European version of a churro and pretzel mixed into one cinnamon sugar swirl. The actual name is 'kurtos kalacs' where round hollow rolls are caramelized with sugar in a standing roaster and then rolled in different sugars of cinnamons when still hot. They really were the most delicious things. After our pit stop, Reinfried and his wife Andreas wanted to take us to a small pub-like place for the best goulash in the city. We entered the tavern and it was filled with both locals (lots of adorable older men) and smoke! I have never been around so much smoke, nor have I ever inhaled that amount before. However, the goulash and bread were so good, as was the bear, that the smoke was soon forgotten (rather, ignored). The lunch conversation was interesting as well - politics soon came up, and it was interesting to get yet another viewpoint on America and politics, this time from a true Austrian (versus an American canon in Austria). He was talking about how Austrians tend to distrust and hate the conservative Republicans and those leaning towards the right, and how they tend to favor the left and the Democrats in American politics. He also said that Austrians absolutely HATED President Bush and they tend to be pro-Palestine. It was interesting that these particular points came up (on his own prompting), illustrating that these are some of the foremost issues discussed in Austrian politics. It was also interested in seeing first hand how American media is used in other nations. Reinfried mentioned that the only political news ever heard or seen on TV in Austria is skewed to the left, and highly liberal, with heavy criticism of the right. As I said last time, this magnetism of the Austrians to sway more left than right might be related to their attempt at disconnecting themselves from religion (associated with the right; interesting enough, less than 1/3 of Austrian Catholics now attend church) and religion's role in their ravaged past and attempting to embrace a new culture (more tradition, less conservatism). Nonetheless, it was interesting to discover how Austrians perceive American politics and how much of our politics are filtered to them through the media and propaganda.

Saturday afternoon, we spent our time at the Imperial Treasury, but only got through half before it closed, forcing us to come back for another two hours on Sunday.

Sunday morning Sidney and I decided to attend mass, the first mass service for both of us. We got up and made our way to Oberlaa Cafe, the best coffee and tortes in the city so far, and had the best melange. Then we attended the 11:00 latin mass at Peterskirche (part of the Opus Dei within the Catholic denomination) off of the Graben. Since it was all in German and German-accented Latin, neither of us were able to understand a word of the service, but it was a wonderful insight into how the Viennese, and the Catholic in general, participate in religion. In all, the music was absolutely beautiful, the hymns coming from the top organ level in the back of the church and resonating throughout the high cathedral.

After mass, we were starving so we walked to Cafe Central for lunch. (Can you see our trend of cafes and tortes here???) The guide book mentioned that the place served mainly to tourists, but it didn't seem overly run with tourists. Our lunch was amazing - tuscan bread with chopped

eggplant, mozzarella, tomatoes and olive tapenade. We also ordered Wiener Eiskaffee thinking we would get regular coffee in ice - not quite. We should have known since Europe doesn't generally have ice, but we were served tall glasses of Viennese coffee with a scoop of vanilla ice cream and topped with whipped cream - I have never enjoyed coffee so much!

After lunch, we spent the rest of the afternoon at the Imperial Treasury. The treasury is absolutely amazing - it is now housed in the Hofburg (palace of the Babenbergs originally) and consists of the prince's removable wealth or things that were able to be converted to money. We bought the long tour, thus it took us two full afternoons to make it through the exhibit. The relics were from a variety of time periods, collected by emperors over time to prove their legitimacy as absolute monarchs of the Holy Roman Empire.

There were many styles of design, showing both the range of time periods covered by the relics and an attempt to find a style which suited the monarchy aptly (a search for a suitable culture). Most of the relics, however, were either baroque or renaissance, and were either religious or secular (clothing). There were pieces of the original cross included in the crosses used by the emperors, the nail which pierced Jesus' right hand, parts of his loin cloth, his facial impression on a cloth, parts of his manger, the holy grail (the bowl which collected Jesus' blood) etc. The pieces of Christ's life were verified by the popes in those days, but it is hard to separate legend from fact when determining the veracity of such objects. There were also extensive relics of the Order of the Golden Fleece, established in 1430 by Philip III to celebrate his vast empire, and later seen as a royal privilege reserved for knights and those bestowed with honor. We were also able to see the crown of the Holy Roman Empire and the other coronation relics and vestments used by past emperors. The religious artwork etched onto each piece and the symbolism in the craftsmanship and goldsmith work is stunning - it shows a direct connection between throne and altar, allowing each ruling emperor to justify and legitimize his own power and authority to rule.

There truly was an excess of grandiose and pomp throughout the exhibit, from the embellished cross, swords, and crowns, to the multiple altar relics and copious numbers of vestments used for ceremonial processions and coronations. Every piece of clothing was embroidered with gold and velvet, in dark red and purple hues, and each piece worn by a knight was embroidered with the knight's coat of arms in three separate places. The various designs not only honored the knights that wore them, but they were visible representations of the knight's authority and rule. Each ceremonial robe had a cape to match and gloves and shoes and hats, placing the ruler or emperor high above the common citizen and closer to the glory of God. The religious symbolism stitched onto the robes and inlayed within the designs of crowns and swords further served to establish the emperor as an earthly manifestation of God's glory and power. Also, the transition from one generation and ruler to the next meant more relics and ceremonial robes and accessories were commissioned, expanding the image of the ruler's power, and increasing his own belief in ruling over his subjects. The sheer amount of gold and accumulated wealth helped in establishing the notion of ruling absolutely - the wealthier the monarch, the farther from the citizens he became, and the more his own agenda determined the welfare of the society. Thus, throughout the generations of hereditary rulers, absolutism became more firmly established in the minds of the Habsburg emperors. The baroque style, as well, contributed to this marriage between throne and altar and in the growth of absolutism, introducing more ornate decorations and robes and furthering the religious symbolism inlayed in the vestment's patterns and the crowns engravings. Thus, the pure ceremony of the coronations of emperors, kings, and the Holy Roman Emperor were of the highest importance, since these were the times when the ruler's power was most publicly seen by the citizens and other rulers. The ceremony and the treasury of the ruler was the foremost manifestation of his right to rule and his power to rule.

Sunday night was our night at the opera. We went to the last showing of Johann Strauss II's Die Fledermaus, an operetta (a comedy rather than an opera [tragedy]) about mistaken identity between a husband and wife. It was an interesting show with a typical Viennese interpretation of humor, but the lead singer was extremely talented. Afterwards some of us girls headed to a small restaurant for some much needed dinner - luckily there was one open late on a Sunday night. Since this is a Catholic country, everything is closed on Sundays except cafes in the morning.

Tomorrow is class again, and a short week before we head to the Alps!

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.

The Church as Diversity

The churches in Vienna are stunning - not only have the Viennese managed to build countless churches in the space of the inner city, about 3 square miles, but they have managed to include a diversity of both architecture and types of Catholicism along the way. Today we planned to spend our time investing in the religion of Vienna; we had yet to see Stephansdom, and we wanted to visit the minor churches as well.

Our first church was St. Stephen's church, named and built after the first Christian martyr, St. Stephen, who was stoned to death under the authority of Paul (then known as Saul of Tarsus). The church is beautiful and imposing, filling every corner of its large square, although that could also be credited to the immense amount of tourists who flock to the church during the summer season. The outside is classical gothic, transformed by

Rudolph IV in 1359 from a more Romanesque style. The south tower is the tallest structure on this side of the Danube - nothing can be built higher than it - and original plans for the church show a matching tower on the opposite side. Unfortunately, depleted funds left this second tower on the shorter side. The roof I found to be oddly out of place with the overall mentality of the church - the church being a reflection of both the Roman renaissance and the medieval gothic, the roof fit neither category. We did not enter into the cathedral nor did we descend into the catacombs due to a class trip already scheduled for that purpose, but we did climb the 343 steps to the top of the south tower. I cannot imagine how a monk, with long robes and no electrical lighting could have ascended such a tower to reach the small rooms which branch off of the staircase every so often. Once at the top, the 'skyline' of Vienna came into view. It is quite refreshing to see such a modest skyline, one that respects the cultural identity of Vienna in not surpassing St. Stephen's south tower, in comparison to American "the bigger the better" skylines.

After visiting St. Stephen's we walked one block up to Peterskirche, St. Peter's church. This was by far the most impressive baroque church we saw today, its plain facade and smaller, round shape reminding me vaguely of the baptistry outside of the Duomo in Florence. This church sits upon the same site where Charlemagne once founded a church. During the 12th century, it became part of the Schottenstift. However, since 1970, this church has belonged to the Catholic branch Opus Dei. In 1661 the church burnt down, later being constructed mainly by Johann Lukas von Hildebrandt in 1733 in the baroque style. The gold interior and the intricate altar piece were stunning. The intricate style of the baroque is clearly celebrated within the domed church of St. Peter's; for what it may lack in initial size, it makes up for it in

grandeur.

St. Peter's also houses the relics of a saint - the first we've seen yet. This public showing of relics within the Catholic church came to illustrate a crucial difference between the Catholic and Protestant church. Where as the relationship between the living and the dead is fluid for the Catholic, for the Protestant the relationship between the living and the dead is rigid and stiff. The Catholics intercede for their dead and decorate the public relics as a show of good works; Protestants leave the dead to pay for their own sins, creating a schism between those alive living in grace and those dead facing judgement.

The road past St. Stephen's led us along the Graben (the 'ditch') and the Kohlmarkt - high end shopping, aka a tourist trap. However, in the midst of the Graben is a large statue with lots of gold - the Pestsale or "Trinity Column."

In 1679 the last of the black plague epidemics swept across Vienna, causing Leopold I to evacuate the city. Upon his reentry, this plaque was created to commemorate the deaths of the victims. Its builders, Burnacini and Fischer von Erlach used doctrinal motifs to to embody the trinity, but also used the three coats of arms as symbols of the Habsburg dynasty (Austria, Hungary, and Bohemia). According to Parsons, "Austria corresponds to the Father, Hungary to the Son, and Bohemia to the Holy Ghost" (Parsons, 159). This is a very clear example of the marriage so often found within the Habsburg dynasty between the imperial and the sacerdotium.

Just as the tradition of Catholicism is so vibrantly attested for here in Vienna, so it is logical, seeing as how Vienna sits geographically and culturally between the Protestant north and the Catholic south, that it would be considered a "glittering lode separating and joining two cultural monoliths" (Parsons, 137). With the outbreak of the Protestant Reformation in 1517, the Habsburgs were adamant to curb its tide, thus prompting St Peter of Canisius, a Jesuit in Rome, to come teach theology at Vienna's university. Eventually, he was most successful in the Counter-Reformation, together with the invitation from Ferdinand II extending to all Jesuits to come to Vienna enacting a complete Jesuit monopoly of higher education in Austria, and coinciding with the influx of Jesuits situated around Am Hof (the sight of the first Babenburg palace). Thus, the large influence of Catholicism attests to the religion of the Habsburg family and is accurate in illustrating the strength with which the Protestant Reformation was fought.

The next church on our walk was the Schottenkirche, the Scottish church originally founded by Benedictine monks from Ireland (then Scotia Maior) in the 12th century. Today's facade dates from the 19th century. Unfortunately the church was closed, but we were able to glimpse inside.

St. Ruprecht's church was next, the oldest church in Vienna situated along the old boundaries of Vindobona. It is named after the patron saint of the salt trade in Salzburg. The exterior is equally modest to the inside, reflecting its ancient stature among the new buildings looming overhead.

From there we walked to the Greek Orthodox church, but it was closed, so

our next church became the Dominican Church, completed in 1634. In 1226, Leopold VI of Babenburg invited the Dominicans to Vienna, who built this incredible baroque church. However,

as with many of the churches we have seen, the facade was plain and almost of a Renaissance nature, while the inside dazzled with baroque splendor.

Our last church for the day was the Franciscan church, built in the 17th century with a stark contrast between the renaissance facade and baroque interior. We ended the day in Neue Markt, and with tea in the Karlsplatz.

Today was filled with everything baroque, a style utilized as a symbolic display insinuating both ideological and theological statements. There is no wonder why the Habsburgs were such fans of this style of architecture. Parsons expands upon this subject, stating that "the Baroque solved the problem of nationality even before it existed; it bestowed the unity of its mode of expression on a landscape that was geographically so very disparate, with its enormous variety of people" (Parsons 166). The culture of the Church and the culture of the dynasty both are both evident within the architecture, with the power of both communicated to the world. Yet again we see the indivisible relationship between church and dynasty, power and architecture, the churches a representation of the diversity of tools used to counter the Protestant Reformation.

Today's German Word:

Wahrscheinlich - 'probably'