Straßengel

This was the weekend of my Liederabend and Liedersoirée. The first performance took place Saturday evening to a standing-room only crowd in the Festsaal of the Odilien Institut, a venue conveniently located just around the corner from the Heim. After weeks of coaching, preparations and a little anxiety, the concert came off splendidly. Each one of the twelve vocalists and three pianists under my direction did their very best. If I may pat myself on the back a bit, I have a knack for finding just the right song for each vocalist and I do know how to put together an interesting and varied program. There were a few selections that no one had heard before, in particular the Mendelssohn and Peter Cornelius duets I programmed, as well as a few Robert Franz songs. The second performance took place Sunday morning in the Meerscheinschlößl. Everyone gasped when they entered the room. I had forgotten just how beautiful this little rococo treasure is with its frescoed ceiling and grand chandelier. The second performance went even better, to an equally enthusiastic audience.
After a few days of rain it finally cleared up. I was eager to get away a bit after the late morning concert and decided to visit the town of Straßengel (which I discussed in the previous blog entry) in order to inspect its famous church. The pilgrimage church of Maria Straßengel sits on a hill in the middle of the small town. It is visible from the train when traveling north from Graz. Built in the mid-fourteenth century, the church is considered one of the best examples of High Gothic architecture in all of Austria. That may be, but in my humble opinion, the Frauenkirche on the Hauptmarkt in Nürnberg is prettier and not desecrated with the usual Baroque overlay. Still, the Straßengel church is charming and beautifully situated. In 1788 someone had the bright idea of tearing down the church and using the stones to build a school. A noble idea, but a stupid one, matching the barbarity of later ages. The local inhabitants were so incensed at the prospective loss of their pilgrimage church that they protested and petitioned the Emperor. Eventually the order was rescinded and the church stayed.
As I have noted in these pages before, Austria is unmistakably Roman Catholic. Not only are there countless churches around, but in the countryside one finds many roadside devotional altars. Most of these are dedicated to the Virgin Mary. This type of simple rustic devotion seems to me to stem from the same impulse that has existed in Europe for millennia, an expression of homage to unknown forces, the simple, naive wish that some deity out there can provide us with protection if we appeal with sufficient sincerity. Before Christianity people made their entreaties (ie. put their faith in) the imagined spirits of the forest. In pagan times, when the matriarchy predominated, the Great Mother was worshipped in many forms. The Virgin Mary is just another incarnation of the same. In effect, Christianity is the same game with a different name. There is nothing at all wrong with this, of course, but isn't it time that humanity grew out of its superstitions?

Names

In a previous blog I mentioned the town of Deutschfeistritz. There are a number of place names in the area that contain the word 'Deutsch' in them, such as Deutschlandsberg to the south of here. It is a curiosity that merits some explanation. Graz is located in the extreme southeastern corner of the German-speaking world. The Slovenian border to the south and the Hungarian border to the east are each less than an hour away. Since the dissolution of the Roman Empire until the 17th century this area was the first defense against the incursion of Slavic and Magyar tribes, and later against the expansion of the Ottoman Empire into Central Europe. The decisive turning point which saved Europe from becoming a Moslem vassal state was the Battle of Vienna in 1683. In the Middle Ages the apellation 'Deutsch' would have referred to cultural affiliation, not to a political entity.

On the way north by train from Graz, or on the Autobahn, one of the first towns is Judendorf-Straßengel. I wondered about the derivation of the name Judendorf and have since discovered that there are many towns with similar names in the German-speaking world. There is a Judenburg to the west of here as well as several other towns with the name Judendorf in the Steiermark. As I suspected, these names were acquired in the Middle Ages, when Jews were sometimes given permission to live in designated towns. Reading the German-language wikipedia entry or the official website of Judendorf-Straßengel, there is no mention whatsoever of the derivation of the first part of the town's name, although the derivation of the second part is given (it stems from a Slavic word, 'straza'). I was only enlightened when I read an article in the Jewish Encyclopdia on-line which offered a comprehensive history of the Jews in the Steiermark. It is the usual tale of persecutions, brutality, disenfranchisement and evictions. Perhaps the worst atrocity, only outdone by the total annihilation of the Jewish population by the Nazis, was an event which took place in Judenburg in 1421, when seventy Jews were burned at the stake by their Christian neighbors on the ridiculous grounds of having 'desecrated the host'. One can only surmise that the official website of Judendorf-Straßengel wishes to avoid this sticky part of its history and its treatment of Jews throughout the centuries.

In the forest

I stopped for lunch and sat on a log somewhere in the middle of the forest on top of the Schenkenberg. Looking up I could see the blue, blue sky and the crowns of the trees bathed in sunlight. I shall think of this moment on some dreary winter day.

Blumengarten

This is just an ordinary house in the village of Adriach, outside of Frohnleiten. The garden was exploding with color. The Austrians (and Germans and Swiss) do love their flowers.

In Waldeseinsamkeit

I knew that today was maybe the last time I had to do some serious hiking. Since my Liederabend programs takes place next weekend I can't do anything then. After a few days of cool, rainy weather (which we all loved) today turned warm and sunny. I finally invested in a Wanderkarte, a hiking map, of the Graz area. I planned my hike and set off by train early this morning. After traveling twenty-five minutes to the north I was in the town of Frohnleiten. (I have visited this charming little town before and posted some pics of it on this blog -- it is perhaps the prettiest town in the whole Steiermark.) The plan was to follow a marked trail up a nearby mountain, walk along the top, and back down further south where I could catch the train back from Peggau-Deutschfeistritz (now there's a very Austrian name for you!). On the way to the start of the trail I passed through the tiny village of Adriach and went by the local church. Mass must have just gotten out. Virtually every person was dressed in Austrian national costume, the ladies in their pretty dirndls and the men in Lederhosen and smart Tyrolean jackets. What a fine looking group of people they were! It was quite a strenuous hike until I reached the top of the mountain. Most of the trail was in deep forest but occasionally there were clearings which afforded panoramic views of the area. One photo shows Frohnleiten in the valley of the Mur (the same river that runs through Graz). Both the major train line north and the Autobahn to Vienna run through this narrow valley. It is surprising to find dairy farms at such high altitudes, but they have managed to create pasture land on the steepest slopes. On the way down I somehow got off the marked trail and ended up somewhere I didn't expect to be. With my trusty map I found my way and made it to the train, many extra kilometers later. It was another of those adventures one must expect hiking in unknown territory. I figure I must have walked at least 16-20 miles today. The day ended with a superb dinner with colleagues at a place called the Gasthof Jobstl (another very Austrian name), which sits on a hill overlooking our neighborhood and the mountains beyond.

Liederkomponisten in Graz

A few months ago the director of the program here asked me if I could come up with something special to celebrate the 40th anniversary year of AIMS in Graz. Short of conjuring up the spirit of Hugo Wolf in a séance, I couldn't think of anything. But one day it hit me that I already had a ready-made program. During my two previous summers here I learned some of Graz's musical history and had accumulated a few stories of visits to this city by various composers. With a bit of research in the library I was able to piece together a lecture/recital program of stories of various composers in Graz interspersed with songs they wrote about the times of their respective visits. The lecture part practically wrote itself. When I got here this summer I just needed to find the best singers I could to participate on the program -- and the ones I asked all did so eagerly. I lucked out with engaging some of the finest Lieder singers here. The recital took place last Monday, July the 26th in the Pfarrsaal Sankt Leonhard. Here is the musical portion of the lecture/recital:

“Der Lindenbaum” Franz Schubert (from Die Winterreise), “In Waldeseinsamkeit” and “Vergebliches Ständchen” Johannes Brahms, “Freundliche Vision” and “Kling!” Richard Strauss, “Oft denk’ ich, sie sind ausgegangen!” Mahler (from the Kindertotenlieder), “Nacht” Alban Berg“ (from the Sieben Frühe Lieder) and "Durch Einsamkeiten” by Josef Marx.

The last song was written by a composer who was actually born in Graz. I had some misgivings about including that piece in the program, but was glad I did. It is written for Mezzo-soprano, viola and piano. It was exotic and lush and virtually nobody had ever heard this song before. I was fortunate to enlist the help of a fine young violist from the AIMS orchestra (who is actually an American living in Graz full-time). The concert hall was nearly filled and the program was very enthusiastically received. I also went to the trouble of printing out texts and translations, something that is ordinarily not done here. I wondered if there was perhaps too much talking on my part, and if the program was perhaps a bit too high falutin' in tone. But everyone said later that it was just right, very interesting and entertaining. Not to sound immodest, but I think this was the classiest program presented here all summer. It was a lot of work to get it all organized, but it was a great experience for me to do it.