KUNSTHALLE: Parallelwelt Zirkus

One of the museums I went to see with my family was the KUNSTHALLE, a contemporary art museum in the Museumsquartier, very near to where I live.

Alexander Calder

The KUNSTHALLE (simply named: it translates literally as "art hall" or "art gallery") is a perennial favorite of mine, since it's so fresh and kooky - you never know what you'll get - from feminist pop art to Salvador Dali!

Not that I don't appreciate the pomp of the Kunsthistorisches Museum or the Belvedere or the Albertina; I do indeed. The Albertina is actually my favorite museum in Vienna, followed perhaps by the KUNSTHALLE. I consider myself an eclectic patron of the arts...well "patron" might be going too far...art enthusiast?

Anyway, the exhibit was about the circus, most specifically the circus as a parallel universe: the freaks and geeks and carnival sideshows, but also the animals, the acrobats and performers. The clowns, the artistry and magnificence that goes into creating "the Greatest Show on Earth."

One part of the exhibit particularly moved me: the video of an elderly gentleman exhibiting his "circus," i.e. mobiles presented as a three-ring-parade. Or, as my sister said, "Some creepy old guy playing with toys in his attic." I feel that misses the point, but she is a scientist, after all. Mom said, "Hey, I think that's Alexander Calder," and indeed it was the famous American mobile artist Alexander Calder performing his "Cirque Calder" in an attic in Paris. I found him charming. Here is a clip, courtesy of YouTube and the Whitney Museum.

A lot of people have weird obsessions with the circus. Not just Austrians. I think it has to do with the conglomeration of the fringe elements of society gathered under one big tent. Not just the exotic animals (banned, actually, in Austria) but the exotic people. Acrobats and jugglers who train their whole lives to excel at a sport most would not ever claim is really all that difficult or amazing. But, to those who make such a claim: have you ever tried it?

A former student of mine is incredibly fond of juggling. I think he might even want to do such a thing as a profession. I wonder what his parents would say? And that's just the point.

As a kid, I wanted to run away and join the circus. Maybe become a clown. It was probably at the impetus of a favorite children's book, Rotten Ralph. In it, a very mean red cat named Ralph runs away and joins the circus. He hates it there because he's made to perform as a clown and everyone is mean to him; in other words, he gets a taste of his own medicine.

Although I've since given up ambitions to be a circus performer, there is still a draw of the theatrics for me. To the circus? At the least, I can live vicariously through such things as art exhibitions.

MAK it Yourself

In my quest to get the most out of Vienna, a couple of weeks ago, Jake and I decided to brave the Museum für angewandete Kunst, or, the Museum of Applied Arts. It's free on Saturdays, 90% of its appeal. Not that I don't like furniture. It's a necessary part of life! I am not too keen on calling it art, though.

The Viennese seem to be perpetually atwitter about applied arts, however: just think of the hundreds of antiques stores that dot the city! And don't get me wrong, there were plenty of cool things in the museum.

Here are some pictures: 

Do-up of Rococo room

Persian rugs and imperial family:

Habsburgs

 

Porcelain figurines: 

Coffee pot:

Stained glass windows: 

Blown glass and cut glass dishware: 

Do-up of industrial kitchen:

Batik wallpaper: 

Furnace or samovar (What are these called?):

Ingenious recycling plan that uses dead people as pigeon feed and fertilizer (ultimately doing away with cemeteries and landfills, but keeping the distinctly loveable Wiener Schmäh):

Cake decorator, like used at Aida and other Viennese bakeries:

...and right behind the cake display is the dead-body-recycling display:

yum?

A "wool" coat made out of human hair: 

and shoes!!

Gustav Kilmt museum exhibit #3092 in Vienna -- his other mural sketches:

And finally, a view of the building:

 Like 85% of the public buildings in Vienna (including university buildings, public toilets, spas, museums, theaters, and pre-war carnival pavilions), the MAK is an extraordinarily beautiful building. I guess it goes to show, time and again, that Vienna is a city that was built for an emperor! No skimping on the marbled columns, hand-painted ceilings, or mosaic glass windows. After all, what emperor in his right mind would have a budget?

Spring - Awakening!

Spring has sprung,

The grass is riz. 

I wonder where 

The birdies is? 

The weather has been beautiful here, if not a little freaky. With temperatures a month ahead of schedule, and articles like this one, the pessimistic global warming vibe rears its head. Yes - global warming is real, and it is becoming all the more imminent and dangerous the closer the earth comes to a tipping point. Most people don't want to hear that, though, when it's 65 F in late March. 

Though it is arguably imperative that people do thing about such things, spending a Saturday afternoon strolling Vienna's Innere Stadt and having an ice cream at the season's opening of one of the Eiscafes lining the main drag is much more to the liking of most.  It's how I spent my day yesterday. And I had a lot of fun.

I went to the MAK (Museum of Applied Arts, or Museum für angewandte Kunst) which is mostly furniture and architecture, but it's free on Saturdays, so it's been on my list of museums to go see (being the cheapskate I am). Interestingly, I found a chair in the museum (on display, not to sit on) that is exactly like the chairs in my apartment last year, which I used with impunity - sitting on them, standing on them, spilling things on them. They're from the 1890s, apparently, and neat-looking hardwood chairs (very sturdy) with embossed leather backs and seats. And apparently art. Who knew?  I'm starting to think nearly everything in Austria can be classified as "art" in some way or another. Beautiful, isn't it?

KUNSTHALLE: Le Surréalisme, c'est moi!

An exhibit at the Kunsthalle, and one I was very excited about seeing, Le Surréalisme, c'est moi! was, I'll be honest, a bit disappointing.

I would consider myself a true Salvador Dali fan. I have seen lots of exhibitions. I even have a finger puppet Dali:

Dali in front of the Trevi Fountain

So I was disappointed to see only a handful of Dali originals, with the rest of the exhibit a painful "contemporary artist do Dali." Yuck. This is a) false advertizing. I expected DALI! and b) not real art if you are just copy catting a great artist.

I did however receive a dual entrance ticket for my €10.50 to see "Das Kabinett des Jan Svankmajer" exhibit on the floor above. I was highly impressed. Svankmajer is a relatively well-known Czech animator and film director. He dabbles in other art forms, but his most famous pieces are short films. I remember seeing Dimensions of Dialogue at some point on TV - maybe the arts channel...here is a link to the first part on YouTube. I remember distinctly the different heads devouring each other, and thought it was weird when I was about 15. But now I find it strangely beautiful. I found the entire exhibit beautiful, in fact. Sometime a bit creepy, but always a true artistic vision.

Svankmajer's Encyclopedia sketches

Svankmajer has been touted as the Czech Tim Burton (though his work predates Burton's, so I would say he inspired Burton). As more or less a contemporary of Ingmar Bergman, I would also compare him to Bergman, in the sense that his films deal with social issues in a surreal or unexpected context. Although Bergman's work is more or less "normal" (set in a contemporary, real-life world) and live-action (no animation), I think they share a conceptual vision, in a way.

Svankmajer's work is dark - no doubt about that - imaginative, and very much influenced by the culture of central Europe. I've noticed in my time here (and in reading plenty of German texts in college) that there is a bit of an obsession with the Devil in German, Bohemian, and Alpine cultures - just look at the Brothers Grimm! Or Kafka, or E.T.A Hoffmann, or Heine. Or basically any German-language author for that matter. His Kafka-esque "The Flat," revamping of Edgar Allan Poe's "The Fall of the House of Usher," and his haunting critique of Communism, "The Garden."

So, although the Dali part was a bust, I think I've found a new favorite cineaste in Svankmajer.

Ode* to Cologne

 What you didn't see from my Amsterdam photos:

the famous Cologne catherdral

me in front of Roman ruins

To highlight Cologne as a city in itself, although this is out of chronological order and, thus, most likely irritating to certain die hard sticklers out there on the world wide web, I have decided to create a separate post of the pictures I took in Germany.


Because we were only there overnight, there's not a whole lot to see. We could have easily spent more time in the Cologne/Bonn area. Certainly, there was lots to see, plenty of Kölner Kölsch to drink, and enough "funny German accents" to hear (according to Jake; let it be said that I don't agree) to make a longer Auftenthalt in the Rhineland.


As it was, we had a pretty tight schedule: night train from Vienna,
wandering around to get pictures of the Dom, a trip to the Römisch-Germanisches Museum (Roman-Germanic Museum - yes, founded in 50 BC! According to the Romans, that is...the area had been inhabited earlier as well, but if you're not part of the empire, that doesn't count...)

We also made it to Bonn to see the Beethoven museum, which was nicely productive for Jake, who is an oboist and working on a project on the Viennese oboe (distinctive from other oboes in that it is mainly - only? - used by the Vienna Philharmonic). Jake is quite the burgeoning expert on such things, so questions should be directed toward him. I couldn't tell you the first things about oboes.


However plebeian my attempts to appreciate classical music, I do. The Beethoven-Haus in Bonn, being his birthplace (he lived most of his adult life and died in Vienna), houses lots of family archives, furniture, portraits, musical instruments, etc. If you're in the Bonn area, it's worth a visit. If you're not, they have a FABULOUS website (follow the link) which is worth checking out as well!

First, here are some photos from the Römisch-Germanisches Museum. I sort of over-indulged in taking photos here...being an archaeology nerd. 


<-- this is the mosaic floor uncovered during WWII (via the construction of a bunker...) It's good to know war is good for something.





























I  don't know why, but the shoes always get me -->
I find it amazing to see 2000-year-old shoes on display! Imagine your Nikes lasting that long!

I believe this was labeled "Women's Things" i.e. perfume bottles and a mirror

That's right: "Gladiators"!

belt buckles

wheels

reconstructed carriage based on the lion's head axel

tombstones

And yet more floor/wall mosaic:

Capricorn: the emperor Agustus' symbol 

After the museum, Jake and I took a walk along the Rhine:

 For some reason, there were all of these locks along the bridge. They appeared to be love lockets...photos to follow...

For example, below, are some of the "love lockets" we saw:









































<-- Jake was not impressed with the one made out of an old beer keg!

view of the city from the brigde

To finish, we have photos of Bonn. Namely, the outside of the Beethoven-Haus...









And of downtown Bonn:


and the EU Commission (which we thought we could tour for some reason...we can't...perhaps when Bonn was the capital of West Germany - and the EU Commission had existed - this might have been possible :P)



As it stands, the EU Commission -->

is just a little old office building!

see? 

And, of course there was a place called "Steppenwolf" so I had to take a picture!! (I recently read the Hesse novel...possible review to come...)




One more thing:

Mom: they do have T.J. (K.) Maxx in Europe!

*This is neither and ode nor an advertisement for eau de Cologne I just liked the pun :)