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'

Debriefing

In class today we debriefed from our visit to the concentration camp, attempting to digest and make sense of what we saw. There was a general consensus that nothing new or significant was learned. Rather, another element, a visual layer, was added to our sense of understanding the Holocaust and concentration camps. These continued thoughts from our visit may seem disconnected from one another - similar to how we will always be disconnected to the camps, no matter how hard we try. There is no logic to these thoughts, just as there is no logic to these camps.

Someone saw the following etched onto a wall within the barracks by a former prisoner:

"If there is a God, He must plead for my forgiveness." A perspective we cannot even imagine or attempt to understand.

We discussed the memorials we saw, and how all memorials are political. They honor the victims in words which further that particular nation's political agenda - this is inevitable. They build the victims into a political or national model, whether consciously or subconsciously. Can there be an apolitical monument?

The 2003 plaques (shown on yesterday's blog) commemorating the American liberating forces almost seemed unnecessary. They seem to be the typical American response, glorifying the heros. This place is not about America and its Allied accomplishments, but it is about the victims. The plaques, although nice and appropriate in the correct context, seem violating here. Is there ever a correct context though?

It was stated that to fully grasp the situation of the camps one must oscillate between commemorating the individual and commemorating the mass. Is this the reason for the monuments outside of the camp?

Deaths in Mauthausen were mostly political, thus may it be appropriate to have or erect political monuments here?

Was there any fluidity in viewing and entering the gas chambers? The chambers were full during the war with the victims. Today, the chambers are filled with tourists and us. Is this an ironic fluidity or is this emotional vandalism?

In Ruth Kluger's biography, she protests against visiting these concentration camps, stating that tourism and visiting them only serves to glorify the crimes committed there. However, is there a middle ground, fluctuating between individual stories and guided tours? Is there a similar middle ground between glorifying or punishing the individuals involved in the Holocaust (war generals, surviving SS members) versus glorifying or punishing the mass victims and soldiers?

Is a compromise possible? May visiting under an educational premise with a tour guide be a compromise? When we were there, there were bikers visiting the barracks, children running and screaming, and laughing, families taking pictures, and pure ignorance by the majority of the viewers. Is less foot-traffic and a lessening of the "family-outing" mentality the answer? Who determines the bounds of regulating human behavior?

In regards to the camps, is time a dimension or rather a diminishing factor, lessening the importance and impact of a past history? When studying something, does a visual response strip away the academic element and force an emotional and physical visceral response? Does it place us in a place beyond and deeper than empathy?

Seeing the camps paralyzes the analytical factor - it is easy to analyze and speculate, but visual processing forces the experience to become more personal. We are disconnected, yet somehow drawn in, kicking and screaming, scared to enter the place of facing the truth. As I said before, I didn't learn any key information regarding concentration camps of the Holocaust which I did not know before. Rather, another element was layered upon my own understanding of the past events. The analyzing is now diminished.

There are layers to this unique, atrocious event, to visiting the camps, to cultivating responses. Questions such as "how do we regulate 'appropriate' visits and responses without actually regulating and making the camps less accessible," or "is joy even allowed amongst the now green grass and flowers and laughing kids?" Are the children we saw laughing and enjoying their visit not allowed to have a childhood of their own within the bounds of the camp since the children imprisoned in the concentration camps did not have childhoods? There are many questions, but somehow these questions seem satisfying in themselves. Answers are often unattainable.

Upon entering and touring the camp, I did have preconceived notions of how I would feel and how I should feel. I had judgments against the monuments. I still do not completely grasp them, nor do I believe that the monuments and the tourists lessen the glorification of the camp. I do not regret visiting, but I also would not go again. I appreciate the visual element which I gathered, but emotionally I remained numb - digestion and understanding are only just beginning.

Often visitors project their moral beliefs onto the victims. Does being the victim purify the person? We assume that yes, being victimized does purify that person, and thus we hold them to a higher moral standard.

What is the correct response?

Jugendstil and Judaism

"Nothing impractical can ever be beautiful."

- Otto Wagner

Today we had a tour at the Leopold Museum, the personal collection on display of Mr. and Mrs. Leopold. The museum is fairly new, housed in a specially constructed building to highlight the expressionist and Jugendstil art. Leopold began collecting art when he inherited a stamp collection from an uncle, which he then sold, making enough capital to begin purchasing art in the 1950s. Upon graduating college, he turned down an offer for a car from his parents in order to obtain a painting by Egon Schiele from London, thus beginning his long time fascination with and love for Schiele's paintings and sketches which were hardly famous at the time.

Leopold also had a strong affinity for Gustav Klimt's work - the main painting in the gallery being Death and Life (1910).

Before this particular expressionist style of painting, Klimt was associated with the art of the Ringstrasse group, embracing historicism and classical motifs. However, after three of his paintings were rejected by the University (who was responsible for the paintings' commissioning), Klimt left the Ringstrasse culture and became involved with the Secessionists, eventually becoming their president and painting Death and Life. This particular painting refers back to Klimt's unfinished painting in the Belvedere of The Bride, in both its figures and its positioning. In Death and Life, death is depicted as almost playful or sly, creeping on tip toes over to those alive. In 1915 when death was abounding amidst the unfolding drama of World War I, Klimt came back to revise this painting, adding another column of figures to contract the space between the dead and the living. In the group of the living, a mourning couple is positioned in front, while an older woman with the same coloring as death (and thus she has some association with death) is behind them. The top figures look very much alive, yet sleeping peacefully. The figures on the left, tucked in closest to death are the added figures, their open eyes forcing us and allowing us to relate to death; they are acting as the mediators between the dead and the living.

Another Secessionist who had left the culture of the Ringstrasse was the architect Otto Wagner, most famous for his Jugendstil buildings and his green Stadt Bahn stations. He famously stated and promoted the notion that the art of the past should not be copied, but that new art should be made. He championed function over form, thus rejecting the essential nature of the Ringstrasse culture.

Another room displaying furniture and artifacts collected by Leopold highlighted the Vienna workshop, co-founded by Josef Hoffman and Koloman Moser. Their main aim was to bring together artists, architects, and various other talents to provide various items accessible to the public. However, once this style became popular, the public was no longer able to obtain the items, defeating the workshop's original intent. Along with this room, Adolf Loos was also mentioned, being an architect of the mindset that when the best materials are used in a building's design and construction, there is no need for ornamentation. He thus rejected the decoration and ornate brass details embraced by the Secessionists, designing buildings 'without eyebrows'.

After this room, there were several others which highlighted artists such as Oskar Kokoschka, Richard Gerstl, and a special exhibit with many (dark and depressing) paintings and sketches by Egon Schiele.

Our tour ended in the Schiele exhibition, and was followed by a walking tour through the older part of Vienna and the Jewish quarter. The Jews have a long history in Vienna (as already explored in a previous post on the Jewish Museum), and today allowed us to see the physical places where this history was established and created.

The Jews were part of the high medieval economy, playing an integral part in the long distance trading between the Ottoman Empire and Austria after they were expelled from Spain in 1492 and settled among the Turks. In 1238 however, it became legal for Jews to live in Vienna, allowing them to build a synagogue as well. Although the Jews were legally allowed to live in Vienna and German territories, they were confined to certain area, qualifying them unofficially as ghettos. In 1420, a case of host desecration was committed in Enns, near Vienna, reverberating within the Austrian territories and leading to the mob violence against and the expulsion of the Jews from Vienna in 1421 by Duke Albrecht V (their synagogue was also destroyed at this time). There is still a plaque in the Judenplatz today which praises the pogrom of this time.

Also within the Judenplatz stands a modern memorial, taking up a large portion of the square and falling within the old boundaries of they ruined synagogue. It was built in response to the two memorials outside of the Albertina, one commemorating all those who were victims of war and fascism (dedicated to those non-Jews whose apartment was bombed) and and the other showing a Jew bound in barbed wire forced to scrub the streets. It is designed as a square library, but with all its books turned spine in, and with doors lacking knobs. This library has no access. Around the base of the library, all 41 camps where Austrian Jews were killed are listed, and there is an inscription stating

"In commemoration of more than 65,000 Austrian Jews who were killed by the Nazis between 1938 and 1945."

The books symbolize the Jews as a people of The Book, but these books - the life stories and the religion of the Jews - became inaccessible through the death inflicted by the Nazis, thus we as people can see the books, but we cannot see their titles nor their content. The Jew's contribution to the cultural intellectualism of Vienna and to the world at large is lost, and not seen - the lack of titles shows an evident cultural void.

There was a lot of dissent and disagreement among our group, with many feeling that since the inscription specified "Austrian Jews," it should have also specified that they were killed by "Austrian Nazis," their fellow citizens and countrymen. However, I don't feel that this monument aims at making a political statement, nor does it aim at pointing a finger. I believe that this monument was made for Austria, thus specifying the Austrian Jews whose lives were cut short. This monument remains ambiguous in its use of the term 'Nazi,' allowing the blame to fall on all those who declared themselves Nazis and not one specific type of Nazi. I do believe that it is important to distinguish and point out that Austrian Jews were indeed killed by their fellow Austrian Nazis, but this monument was not intended for that purpose. Rather, this monument is an appropriate commemoration of the Jews within the Austrian borders (hence the monument is IN Austria) and avoids making a political statement by refraining from engaging in the conflict between Austrians killing their fellow Austrians.

This monument does, however, fall into the area of discussion brought up by Ruth Kluger, namely, are these sorts of stereotypical images and monuments beneficial to the memory of the Holocaust, or should the images from individual stories be sufficient and be embraced over the physicality of memorials?

Schonbrunn

Today we had off, so it became the perfect to day spend at Schonbrunn. Schonbrunn is most famous for being the royal residency and summer house of the Habsburgs during the reign of Maria Theresia. However, the palace has a history of its own. It was built to rival Versailles in France, and was at one point owned by the monastery Klosterneuburg (which we toured with the canons) but came into Habsburg control in 1569 under Matthias II. It became a hunting house, with Matthias extending the game park, and remained a hunting palace for several years. Its name was originally 'Schone Brunnen' meaning fair spring, but was later first changed by Emperor Ferdinand II's wife to its current name, Schonbrunn. However, during the second Turkish siege of 1683, the palace was plundered and destroyed.

Under Emperor Leopold I, the palace was rebuilt and Fischer von Erlach was commissioned as its architect. However, plans stalled, and the palace was never completed according to original designs. Charles VI inherited the hunting palace, but gave it as a gift to his daughter Maria Theresia since he only ever used the grounds for hunting. Maria Theresia transformed the palace and completed its construction under the designs of Nikolaus Pacassi. After the palace was completed, a second phase of construction began in 1750, with Maria Theresia transforming the baroque palace into the more rococo style of the late baroque period. The gold floral ornamentations and the heavily tapestried rooms of rich deep colors are quintessential examples of the baroque style, with elaborate details in every corner and large dramatic frescos lining the ceilings and marble walls. The interior is largely rococo, each room composed of a different palate - one room being of yellow and blue fabric on the walls; two oriental styled rooms; the blue room with blue ceramics and sketches covering the walls; rooms filled with landscapes by Bergl; and then the grand ball room with heavy red velvets, marble, and high frescoed ceilings.

Maria Theresia's last contribution to the palace's growth was the gardens - she designed the gardens and hired an architect to construct the Neptune fountain and the beautiful Gloriette - the hill upon which Fischer von Erlach's original palace would have stood.

The palace remained a hunting retreat under Habsburg power until 1918 with the dissolution of the Habsburg monarchy, thus becoming the property of the Austrian Republic and used as a museum.

Our own tour which Sidney and I went on allowed us to look into 40 of the 200+ rooms of the main palace, and gave us entrance into all of the gardens. The Privy Gardens and the Orangery, the Palm House (housing the exotic and tropical plants), the bakery (free apfelstrudel classes!!), and the Gloriette (a cafe with a gorgeous view on top) were all covered in our ticket, giving us a great sense of the palace. The range of gardens is only one manifestation of the vast and expansive power which the Habsburgs held over Austria; the palace, too, as well as the estate as a whole, also demonstrate the domination of the Habsburgs and their incredible wealth and absolutism.

It was amazing to see such progressive techniques and styles throughout both the palace and the gardens (requiring hundreds of servants for upkeep) - the steam heaters used to heat the palace, the french gardens manicured so well, and the large fountain all seem to reflect the constantly changing palace and the forever progressive and dominating rule of the Habsburgs.

The Alps

12 August 2010

Thursday turned out to be a beautiful day in the Alps, allowing us to hike! We set out at 10, and ended up hiking for 7 hours! We were able to hike from house to house, eating lunch at one cabin, cake at another, etc. It truly was absolutely breathtaking - the mountains and green grass were never ending. I can understand how the Habsburgs gained power so quickly, and how they came to be seen as absolutist monarchs - invaders were unable to conquer the rugged Alps, and the wealth which the Alps provided the monarchy was crucial in their ability to become such prominent rulers over so many years.

Getting Lost...

We are in Vienna! Our wonderful taxi driver, Reinfried, was kind enough to pick us up last night at the airport and show us around the city, giving us a brief overview of what we can expect to learn this month.

Today was our first full day in Vienna - and the jet lag has caught up to us! Our first order of business today was 'mastering' the U-bahn, Vienna's efficient subway. Compared to subways the world over, Vienna's is by far the cleanest. The one challenge, however, that has dually and very pronouncedly presented itself is the language barrier. I study languages, and the romantic languages are the direct descendants of both Latin and Greek so they tend to be a bit easier to grasp. However, the German language is so vastly different, that even the phrases of mere common courtesy are vague and unfamiliar. The necessary questions that arise in one's day, much less in navigating a new city and new foods, arenever correctly asked or answered. This inability to converse and this forced state of dependence on another's mercy is by all means frustrating.

Arriving at the Austro-America Institute, we were shown our classroom: a beautiful building established as a post-World War I cultural center by Anna Freud, among others. After a morning of introductions and logistics, we were free to explore. My roommate, Sidney, and I decided to start walking - essentially we were determined to get lost among the grandeur and luster of Vienna.

Our first stop, the Stadtpark. The largest attraction was the gilded statue of Johann Strauss II. However, due to the large amount of tourists surrounding said statue, we continued walking along the canal, and among the gardens. From this beginning, we decided to walk the Ringstrasse in its entirety - this 3 mile boulevard encircles the 1st district of Vienna - the old city. Reinfried had told us that the majority of the grand buildings were located on this street - including the buildings once inhabited by the Habsburgs. We followed the main road, past the grand Imperial Hotel. Then along the canal we started to venture into the side streets to avoid the tourists. There we found gardens and courtyards and cafes, all tucked alongside streets and up stairways. Every street we followed led us to more and more beautiful parks and buildings. We made it as far as Rudolfplatz in the 9th district before the need for pastries hit us. We stopped at Aida - a Cafe-Konditorei - and had the most wonderful apfelstrudel. Wandering back into the 1st district and continuing along the Ringstrasse, we stumbled upon an old baroque church, set amidst a tree-filled park. Making our way further around, we could see the buildings of the Habsburgs looming ahead.

The Habsburg dynasty ruled from 1526 to 1804, with power constantly fluctuating between Austria, Hungary, and Bohemia. The Habsburgs also succeeded in creating a 'marriage-bed' monarchy, creating alliances and furthering their power through the terms of marriage with other countries. The Habsburgs created the most perfect vision of an absolute monarchy - and the architecture only furthers their supposed divine right to rule. Throughout the city, and especially along our walk on the Ringstrasse, the tension and pull between the city and the crown, as Spielman (The City and Crown) has coined it, is dramatically evident. The domination of the crown was intended to be seen from every window, a goal which has been accomplished. Amidst the tall gilded building of the government, the university and the palaces, there lie modest streets, where citizens dwell, who at one point were not only made to submit to the monarchy, but were smothered by its physical presence rising up around them. Furthermore, the Habsburgs' attempt to justify their right to rule through the church only led to a strong connection between 'throne and alter.' Thus, not only were the daily citizens made to dwell in meager conditions while surrounded by luxury, but even

their religion and their churches were filled with the pride of Habsburg gold and power. The quiet common streets were, and are still now, an outward rebellion of the oppression inflicted upon the citizens by the monarchy which surrounded them and became a direct contrast to the luxury of those in power; they are a testimony to the attitudes of the people then, and serve as a reminder of Vienna's past.

Another interesting note - as we were walking around the Ringstrasse - there was an evident influence of Greek culture infused with the architecture. This may be due in a large part to Ferdinand I, who in 1541 countered the rapidly gorwing Protestant movement with a 'reconversion to Rome,' appointing Jesuits to pursue the humanities which studied classical Greek and Latin. From Athena and her surrounding cohorts at the Vienna Parliament, to the old gymnasium building across from our apartment, one can sense the influence of Greek mythology and wisdom.

Today's German Word:
Verdienen - 'to earn'