Wild Times in Vienna

"Der Zeit ihre Kunst. Der Kunst ihre Freiheit"
"For every age its art; for art its freedom"
The Three Gorgons representing painting, architecture and sculpture.
Secession Building, Vienna.

If you’re a fan of the art of Gustav Klimt, or his younger contemporary and protégé Egon Schiele, then Vienna is the place for you. 

The Leopold Museum in Vienna’s MuseumsQuartier is a trove of major Schiele works, plus much more (fascinatingly, it became the property of the Austrian state as a write-off for a tax bill). 

The Leopold Museum, Vienna

Schiele was a wild young man, and his paintings show it. At one point he was imprisoned for immorality. Wikipedia:

When they came to his studio to place him under arrest, the police seized more than a hundred drawings which they considered pornographic. Schiele was imprisoned while awaiting his trial. When his case was brought before a judge, the charges of seduction and abduction were dropped, but the artist was found guilty of exhibiting erotic drawings in a place accessible to children. In court, the judge burned one of the offending drawings over a candle flame. The twenty-one days he had already spent in custody were taken into account, and he was sentenced to only three days' imprisonment.

by Egon Schiele (source)

Sciele’s paintings and drawings are certainly confronting, and rather tortured. He was an early Expressionist, clawing his way out of the traditional milieu, and pouring into his paintings all the pent-up sexual angst of a very young man. In his day, many found the explicitness of his work disturbing, and possibly many still do -- it’s not only the subjects, but the intensity. The lines of a Schiele work are reminiscent of the writhings in Van Gogh, and are moving, expressive and disturbing. 

He was born in 1890, and thus his twenties were shaped by the hideousness of the First World War. In 1918, only 28 years old, he died in the Spanish flu pandemic, along with his pregnant wife (the flu pandemic claimed more lives in Austria than WWI). View more about Schiele and his paintings here..

Decorativeness at the Secession Building, Vienna.

When Schiele was a young artist, Gustav Klimt (1862 - 1918) ruled the art world in Vienna. He mentored the young Schiele for a time, and introduced him to workshops connected with the Secession -- a Viennese artistic movement which ‘seceded’ from the art establishment and showed (and still shows) bold new contemporary works. It’s always inspiring to hear about young and innovative artists (not that Klimt was so young) breaking away to establish their own new spaces and places, but in the case of the Viennese Secession, it’s hard to avoid a suspicion that there was some serious money behind them. Bohemian they may have been, but they could raise the wherewithal to build a fantastic new HQ: the boldly art nouveau Secession Building, still a venue for new art in Vienna. 

The Vienna Secession Building with its distinctive golden dome.

Gustav Klimt, generally described as a symbolist painter, was a founder of the Vienna Secession, and Otto Wagner, the architect, a member. The famous Secession Building, now an icon of the movement, was built in 1897 by Joseph Maria Olbrich - the style is known as ‘Jungendstil’ (Viennese Art Nouveau). As well as changing exhibits of contemporary art, the building permanently houses Klimt’s ‘Beethovenfries’ (“Beethoven Frieze’). At first glance, you might wonder quite what the frieze - a partial-looking and spasmodic art work - has to do with Beethoven. It was designed as a temporary decoration for the Secession’s 14th exhibition in 1902, a pean to Beethoven. Part of its now blank space was occupied by a statue of Beethoven - nude, in heroic style - by Max Klinger (currently housed in Liepzig). The frieze purports to suggest the themes of Beethoven’s 9th Symphony, culminating in an ‘Ode to Joy’, and in fact Gustav Mahler conducted his own orchestration of the fourth movement of the 9th for the opening of the exhibition. 

Detail from Klimt's 'Beethoven Frieze'.
These nude maidens stand between Three gorgons (Sickness, Madness and Death)
and a large ape that looks a bit like King kong.

Detail from Klimt's 'Beethoven Frieze.
A Parsifal-like knight goes forth to save the world,
watched by Ambition and Compassion.

Klimt everywhere.

The Leopold Museum also houses some Klimt art works, and reproductions can be found all over Vienna, rendered in greater or lesser taste. But for the Klimt motherlode, head to the Belvedere Palace (the Upper Palace), now a fabulous art museum. There, amongst other iconic Klimts (and much else) is hung ‘The Kiss’ (1907/8), possibly the best known of all - from his ‘golden period’, when he used gold leaf in his paintings.

And here’s a curious point: despite the rectangular dimensions of almost all of the reproductions around town of this exquisitely-rendered work, the original is in fact square. Wiki gets it right. 

Klimt died in 1918, the same year as Schiele, from illness complications arising from the Spanish flu. He was no stranger to controversy either, also facing allegations of pornography, especially over his commissioned decorations for the great hall of the University of Vienna - following an outcry, all three paintings were never displayed on the university ceiling and were destroyed by retreating SS officers in 1945. Wiki gives details of his life, plus an overview of his works. 

View Klimt’s works (24 of them) housed at The Belvedere Palace here.

The Belvedere Palace, Vienna

View from the Upper Belvedere.

Klimt's 'The Kiss' (1907-08) (source)

The Belvedere also boasts some excellent Schiele works, including ‘Death and the Maiden’ (1915) painted after his first long-term lover left him (because he married someone else).

'Death and the Maiden' (source)

These two artists and their contemporaries were nothing if not adventurous. It seems apt to quote the words of Schiller which Klimt painted across his ‘Nuda Veritas’ in 1899:

"If you cannot please everyone with your deeds and your art, please only a few. To please many is bad."

The dome has been dubbed 'the golden cabbage'.

Griechenbeisl

'Beethoven was here'

If a restaurant has been around since 1447, you’d expect it to have a memorable guest list. Griechenbeisl, in a side-street in Vienna, is rather proud of its guest list: Beethoven, Mozart, Schubert, Wagner, Strauss, Brahms, Mark Twain, Johnny Cash, Zeppelin, Bismarck. And being canny inn-keepers, they have over the years ensured that such famous guests sign the walls and vaulted ceiling of their inn. Where you, dear non-famous guest, can view them in awe today.

I'm blessed with a healthy skepticism where things historical are concerned, and I don’t know if all the signatures at the Griechenbeisel are authentic. I ate my adequate dinner in the small vaulted room surrounded by these etchings of the great. They are covered with perspex, and the waiter keeps handy a long stick for pointing out the various highlights amongst them. Despite said skepticism, I found myself sufficiently over-awed by the proximity of the (possible) hand of Beethoven and Mozart that I could barely digest. A little research has not - yet - revealed any in-depth rejection of the authenticity of the signatures.

A pretty entrance.

Griechenbeisel is clearly very old. The exterior is delightfully picturesque and the interior convincingly low-ceilinged, dark and maze-like. The restaurant operates in several rooms. If you eat in the ‘signature room’, expect a steady stream of patrons from the others rooms visiting to ooh and ahh over the artefacts, and even tourists outside the low bowed window poking their camera lenses in. 

The inn has this to say about itself:

An ancient building with bay windows and many small vaulted rooms - that is the Reichenberger Griechenbeisl, a piece of medieval Vienna. The first mention of the building in the faded registers of the City of Vienna was made in 1350, when the house was owned by the knight-commoner Lienhart Poll, who was a very distinguished and rich citizen. The tower with its steeply rising double pitch roof...was built in the late middle ages. Structurally it is one of many residential towers in Vienna to survive to this day. As early as 1447, what is today the Griechenbeisl is mentioned in the old chronicles as an inn called “Zum Gelben Adler” (“The Yellow Eagle”). Since then, although it has often changed its name...it has always been an inn. 

And waxing ever more lyrical:

Twice the Turks attacked Vienna, and the walls of the house, which was situated near the line of defence, shook with the impact of the attacker’s cannon balls. Earthquakes and conflagrations, floods and plague swept through the city, leaving fear in their wake. But each time the joie de vivre of the Viennese triumphed over fear and hardship...When trade with the near East increased, Greek and levantine traders came to Vienna and settled on the Flieschmarkt (the Meat market). The Griechenbeisl (‘the Greek’s Inn’) became their local hostelry. When cloth dealers from Reichenberg followed, the inn ultimately became known as the ‘Reichenberger Griechenbeisl’.

'Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart'. I think.

A fuzzy 'Bismarck'

'Richard Wagner'. For sure.

Always interested in the ‘Rough Guide’s take on such matters, I consulted its entry for the Griechenbeisl. The RG does not impugn the signatures, merely saying sniffily that the inn 'milks the connections’. I couldn't help but share a little of this opinion when I discovered that the restaurant refers to the room with the signatures - of Beethoven, Mozart, and Wagner! - as the 'Mark Twain Room.' This apparently draws the American crowd, to whom Huckleberry Finn, it seems, means more than Parsifal.

Mark Twain is up there somewhere.

An inviting entrance.

Griechenbeisl's medieval side-street, Vienna

Touching the Void...well, almost

The domed ceiling of the Karlskirche, Vienna

Walking into a magnificent Baroque church, festooned with curlicues, gilt, cherubims and seraphims, Madonnas and Christs, angels and tombs, the vaulted ceiling usually seems so far away -- and it usually is. Way above you may swirl the work of a famous Master, and you crick your neck trying to appreciate his work. The Sistine Chapel ceiling has given many a tourist a sore neck. So it was with astonishment that I discovered, in the Karlskirche in Vienna, a lift! All the way to the ceiling!

It seems that restoration work is underway on that ceiling - a dome shaped like an an elongated ellipse - and as a boost for the restorers who have to reach the vault, and a bonus for visitors, a temporary lift has been installed in the nave. Yes, this does mean a rather ugly bit of scaffolding and machinery right in the middle of the church, but restoration scaffolding is always a necessary eyesore. It’s just that in this case you can take a ride all the way up, to within a metre or two of the painted vault.

Taking the lift.

Stairs continue into the lantern (for restorers only).

My ‘Rough Guide’ describes the Karlskirche as ‘without doubt the city’s finest Baroque church...an eclectic and rather self-conscious mixture of styles, built to impress.’ The church was completed in 1737, originally commissioned by Emperor Karl I in 1713 as a thank-you bribe...er, gift...for the saving of the city from the plague. The church is dedicated to Saint Carlo Borromeo, who was known for ministering to plague victims. The name ‘Karlskirche’ thus manages to commemorate both the saint and the Emperor. The ‘Rough Guide’ is a bit skeptical about this co-incidence, noting that the name ‘conveniently glorifies both at once’. The pretty exterior of the church does have the curious architectural feature of two replicas of Trajan’s columns (originals in Rome) flanking its front -- symbols of imperialism, certainly; though the columns are carved with scenes from the saint’s life. They’re topped with Hapsburg eagles. A meeting of Karls.

Trajan column lookalike.

 I'm not sure how long the lift has been in the Karlskirche, or how long it will stay, but it is advertised as an attraction on the church's website, so it seems that the restoration, and the lift, are long-term projects.

A light-filled dome.

The lovely interior of the Karlskirche is unusually light for an 18th century Baroque church, because it is lit by a windows high in the galleries (some are clever double-galleries creating optical illusions) and a lantern in the dome itself. The dome is covered with an enormous fresco by Johann Michael Rottmayr, covering 1250 square metres - which you can appreciate so amazingly from the top of the lift platform, 32.5 metres high. The Rough Guide - which may or may not have been up in the lift, it doesn’t say - describes the fresco thus:

‘The subject is the apotheosis of Carlo Borromeo, along with a bit of counter-Reformation Luther-bashing - note the angel setting fire to the German’s Bible and the depiction of Luther in cahoots with the devil. Everything else in the church finds it rather difficult to compete with the sublime beauty of the dome...’

'Defeat of the Lutheran Heresy' (source)

I’ve rarely enjoyed a huge Italianate dome more. Up close and personal. 

Up very close.

Dome fresco detail.

Dome fresco detail.

Dome fresco detail.

Karlskirche, Vienna

Sachertorte

Sacher goodies.

Cake-lovers will need no explanation of sachertorte. Chocoholics will be salivating at the mere thought. Visitors to Vienna have sachertorte on their list of must-see attractions, along with the Stephensdom, Mozart’s house, and the Spanish Riding Stables. 

There are some fine stories to savour along with the chocolate cake. The sachertorte is an invention, so they claim, of the Hotel Sacher, a fine old lady of Vienna. The Sacher is situated opposite the Vienna Opera House. It was built in the 1870s by Eduard Sacher, on the site of the old Kärntnertor Theatre, which was where Beethoven’s 9th Symphony premiered in 1824. So when you enjoy your cake (with cream, of course) you may be sitting very close to where the maestro conducted his masterpiece. 

Hotel Sacher, Vienna

If that story doesn’t whet your appetite, consider the ‘Rough Guide’s claim that:

...the hotel became the aristocrats’ favourite knocking shop, particularly after 1892 when it was run by Eduard’s widow, the legendary, cigar-smoking Anna Sacher, until her death in 1930. perhaps the most famous incident to take place there was when Archduke Franz Ferdinand’s younger brother, Otto, appeared in the hotel lobby naked except for his sword and the Order of the Golden Fleece around his neck, though this is where John and Yoko first introduced "bagism" to the world, in 1969.

Mini version of schertorte. 

Sachertorte - almost forgot to photograph it.

Hotel Sacher's Rote bar.

It’s said that the famous sachertorte was invented by Eduard’s father, who was chef to Prince Metternich. In the Sacher Café you can order a mini-version, or a larger slice; or buy an entire cake to take home. The Hotel Sacher also boasts several lovely restaurants, including the sumptuous Rote Bar where I enjoyed a delicious Austrian lunch; but has quite an exclusive lounge. With the Presidential Suite costing upward of €5380 per night, I guess they don't want any riff-raff. Although a seething crowd of teenagers outside the hotel told me that Justin Beiber was staying there when I was last in town. 

In all fairness to the Hotel Sacher, you might be able to pick up a standard room for €395. If you don't mind Justin Beiber and do like chocolate cake. 

Spanish Riding School? Give me sachertorte.

The view from the Stephensdom? I want chocolate cake.

Mozart? He'd probably love some sachertorte.

Don't leave Vienna without trying sachertorte.

Hapsburg Treasures

Crown of the Austrian Empire

The largest cut emerald in the world? Charlemagne's purse? A narwhal tusk - or perhaps a unicorn's horn? A piece of the True Cross - with a nail hole? A Holy Nail? The oldest chain of the Order of the Golden Fleece? A perfect aquamarine over 2500 carats? The cradle of Napoleon's only son? The Crown of the Holy Roman Emperor?

Not impressed yet? How about...the Holy Grail? ...or at least a very large agate dish that was taken to possibly be the Holy Grail by quite a number of people for quite a long time.

All of these treasures - and treasures surely they are - can be found in the Imperial Schatzkammer in Vienna. As the 'Rough Guide' guide book puts it: "Of all the museums in the Hofburg [this]... is far and away the most rewarding." 

You are invited to take a stroll through just a few of the Austrian Empire's Treasures....

The cradle of Napoleon's son
More info here.

A beautiful cabinet with an exquisite miniature crucifix
carved from a single piece of ivory. It contains - amazingly -
keys of all the tombs of the Austrian archdukes and emperors.

The largest cut emerald in the world: 2680 carats, from Colombia.
The size of a fist, and shaped into a rather ugly snuff box in 1641.

A golden bunch of roses, presented by the Pope to Franz I's wife,
a traditional gift for the 4th Sunday of Lent.
Exquisitely made, with hollow stems detailed with tiny thorns
made from gold shavings. 12 roses symbolise the 12 Apostles,
with a rose for Christ at the top - which is hollow, and would
have held balsam and musk.

An enormous, perfect and beautifully cut aquamarine.

A 2.43 m long tusk of a narwhal, once thought to be
the horn of a unicorn, a sacred symbol of Christ.
Collected by Ferdinand I

The Holy Grail? A 4th-Century agate dish, stolen from Constantinople in 1204.

The agate dish.

A Holy Nail.

The purse of Charlemagne -- said to be filled with
dust soaked with the blood of Christ.

The legendary Holy Lance with which  Roman Centurion pierced
the side of Christ on the cross (probably dates from the 7th century).
Young Adolf Hitler is said to have experienced a mystical revelation
in front of this exhibit.

A piece of the True cross - with nail hole. 

The oldest chain of the Order of the Golden Fleece, a chivalric order dating to 1430.
Emperor Maximilian I became the Grand Master of the order when he
married the only daughter and heir of the Duke of Burgundy in 1477.

The Crown of the Holy Roman Emperor.
Byzantine jewellery, covered in pearls, precious stones and enamelled plaques.
Dates to the coronation of Otto I in 962.
The crown jewels of the Holy Roman Empire were
traditionally kept in Nuremberg but were brought to Vienna
in 1796. The Hapsburgs held on to them when the HRE
was abolished in 1806.

Impressed yet?

Read about the history of the collection here.  Enjoy.