Living History

One the way over to Europe I read a book about the late Hapsburg Empire, "A Nervous Splendor" by Frederic Morton. It is one of the best known works of popular history concerning the period. (I didn't particularly care for the author's writing style, but that's another story.) The book covered the years 1888-89, culminating with the suicide of Crown Prince Rudolf at the end of January in 1889. That was a tragic and traumatic event in Hapsburg history only to be overshadowed by the assassination of Archduke Ferdinand in Sarajevo in 1915, an event which precipitated the beginning of the Great War and the subsequent dissolution of the Empire altogether. The author portrayed the cultural and artistic life of the time in Vienna, weaving the activities of such people as Johannes Brahms, Anton Bruckner, Johann Strauss, Hugo Wolf, Gustav Mahler, Sigmund Freud, Arthur Schnitzler and Theodor Herzl into his story. All of these individuals were active in Vienna at that time. I knew of Rudolf's tragic suicide but I didn't know anything about him. The book filled in the blanks for me. Rudolf, handsome, dashing and beloved by his people, felt he was trapped in an unreal Viennese operetta scenario, with endless court duties to perform and no meaningful tasks. He was at heart a liberal, a reformer, but he had little opportunity to exert any influence. He felt that the Empire was doomed. He was, in effect, waiting for his father, the Emperor Franz Josef, to die. (That didn't happen, ironically, for another 27 years.) Rudolf saw no way out of his predicament. He made a death pact with a noble woman he was having an affair with and they blew their brains out in the royal hunting retreat at Mayerling.
The other day I was waiting in the foyer of the Odilien Institut, the school for the deaf and blind around the corner. We make use of their concert hall for auditions and concerts. On the wall of the foyer there was mounted a plaque that, in grandiose language, commemorated the visit of His Royal Highness the Grand Duke Crown Prince Rudolf and his wife the Grand Duchess Crown Princess Stephanie (who was a daughter of the King of Belgium, by the way) on the opening of the Institute in the year 1887. So, Rudolf had stood in the very same foyer in which I was standing some 122 years before. He probably hated being there, having to be pleasant and official at yet another meaningless event. "One of these days", he probably thought, "I'm going to take a gun and...."
I will probably continue to post during the summer, but perhaps once a week. Everyone has arrived (except the orchestra which gets in tomorrow). Classes begin tomorrow. This afternoon I took the tram out to the pilgrimage church of Maria Trost and walked back through the woods. Life in Graz is just peachy.

Last Hurrah in Toblach

The photo is the view from my window in the Hotel Rosengarten. I was a little sad to leave this beautiful place. The trip to Graz took exactly four hours, via Lienz, Villach and Klagenfurth. Most of it was on a fine autobahn. It was a rainy day (there have been very heavy rains in central Austria, especially around Salzburg for days now). Approaching the outskirts of Graz I had to drive through that unattractive part of town which every city has, industrial and commercial blight. Then I drove in circles for a while. It seems every other street is one way. I was a bit down when I finally got here: coping with city traffic after a week in the mountains is a bit hard. It was good to meet up with colleagues from last year. A group of us went out to dinner. Walking back home through the beautiful late 19th century streets of Graz in the twilight reminded me how special this city is.

Festlicher Umzug -- Parade

The parade in progress and a candid photo of some young guys in their Trachten after the parade. They are wearing heavy wool vests, leather pants and thick socks -- not the thing for a hot day!

Innichen/San Candido

Another fine summery day, my last in the Tyrol. It is to be a walking day. I am told that the path to the next town due east, Innichen, is a nice walk. It's about six km each way. By a happy coincidence, something I couldn't have planned better, the three day Volksfest winds up today in Innichen. That means there will be a carnival atmosphere, lots of music and, to top things off, a Grosser Festumzug, a big parade. Oh boy! There are two foot paths to Innichen, one on either side of the valley. The one I take in the morning starts in Toblach and ascends an asphalted but little used road. Much of the way is forested. There are a few working dairy farms along the way and some lovely old alpine houses. Innichen is the last big town in Italy before the Austrian border. It's bigger than Toblach and quite attractive. There are two old churches, one behind the other: a Romanesque church (12th century) and an exquisite Baroque one. The former is well-preserved and it is dedicated to Saint Candidus, whence the Italian name for the town. Innichen is jammed with people. There are six different venues where various musical groups are playing. Booths are set up to sell all kinds of food and drink. Everyone is out for a good time. The weather is perfect. What a great day to be here! The parade starts at 11:30. It's the battle of the marching bands, about a dozen groups, all in Tracht (regional costume) and a few modest and amusing floats. There are a lot of Italians here -- I guess they enjoy a 'spettacolo' as much as anyone -- although there is a definite German tone to the event. The music, the gorgeous costumes, the mountains, the genuine good spirits of the people all blow me away. Who woulda thunk that oom-pah music could bring me to tears? When the parade is over it's back to eating and drinking. I try a local specialty called 'Strauben' which is a sweet batter drizzled into hot oil to create a twirled mess of fried dough. It is topped with powdered sugar and Preiselbeeren, something akin to our cranberries but more delicate. Strauben is delicious. Again and again I hear the performers sing: "Mein Tirolerland, wie bist du schön!" -- My Tyroler homeland, how beautiful you are! I'll drink to that!
The way back is also partially through woods. It's a good thing because I've had too much sun. About half way one comes across the Drau-Ursprung/Sorgenti di Drava = the source of the Drau River. It begins from a modest spring and flows east througn Austria, Slovenia, Croatia, and Serbia where it joins with the Danube to eventually flow into the Black Sea. Such a modest beginning and such a long path. My week in the Tyrol has gone by very quickly. I have had a wonderful time here and hope to return for more glorious hiking in future. One photo shows the front of the Baroque church, the other both churches and the main square before the parade. The third photo is of the lovely organ loft in the Romanesque San Candido. I am not sure, but I would venture to guess that one church serves the Italian speaking population and the other the German.

Meran/Merano

Meran/Merano. It promised to be a fine day. Ready to explore the Tyrol a bit more extensively, I headed west to Meran. I retraced the route I took to get here but instead of turning north to the Brenner Pass I continued on a bit and then south over the Jaufenpass. This is a high alpine road, closed in winter, that reaches an elevation of 2,100 meters. Meran is actually due west of the Pustertal, but since there is a mountain range inbetween you have to go around it either to the north or to the south. The Jaufenpass road was narrow and serpentine, another test of my stick shift driving skills. It was really hard driving. Although the scenery was spectacular I had to ask myself more than once why I was putting myself through this driving feat. The road from the pass descends gradually into Meran, one of the most famous resort towns in the Alps. It has long been particularly beloved by the Germans and they have been coming here for many decades. Meran has a fine natural setting with an amphitheater of mountains on three sides, opening to the south. This particular geographic arrangement means that the climate is milder and sunnier than most other places in the Tyrol. The town boasts a lovely broad promenade along the river. The old Kurhaus (see photo) is well maintained as are the splendid flower displays -- and a number of interesting topiaries. The town has accomodated the needs of modern visitors with some attractive new buildings. The old town with its narrow streets is still intact, built around a venerable gothic cathedral. It is a beautiful place, but not where I would want to spend a holiday. It was crowded with people and it was really hot (low 90's I'd say), too hot to stay out for long. I yearned for the cooler climes of the Pustertal and the more relaxed ways of Toblach. I returned via the southern route, bypassing Bozen/Bolzano. Some of this road is an autostrada (freeway). I got back in two hours. Today was the fourth of July, but who noticed?

Villa Mahler

Dear Reader, if you have been reading my blogs attentively (there will be a test afterwards), you will remember that I mentioned that the great Austrian composer Gustav Mahler spent a few summers in Toblach. It turned out to be the last three summers of his life, 1908-10. He wrote his Ninth Symphony and the uncompleted Tenth here, as well as that stupendous song cycle "Das Lied von der Erde". Interestingly, the later work uses Chinese poetry (translated into German by Hans Bethge). But these are the alpine views he saw every day which inspired him to write his magnificent music. You may remember that the last song, "Abschied" (which lasts a half hour) is a leave-taking from the earth and its beauties. Mahler was very ill at that time and knew his days were numbered. So, it was particularly touching for me to stop by the Mahler Villa and see the house where he lived (it's actually a few kilometers outside of the town). The downstairs now houses a restaurant; I had lunch there: Polenta with Pfifferlinge (wild mushrooms). Delizioso! There is a commemorative plaque on the outside of the house (see photo). Toblach milks the Mahler association for all it's worth. There is a major Mahler festival here every summer and a nice statue to the composer in the town square. Lucky Toblach. A genius lived here.

Blumenpracht -- Verdi prati con fiori