Wiener Schmäh

FALSCH!

There's something about Vienna - its gloomy February days where, sometimes, the clouds roll in for weeks at a time, making the narrow streets denser, darker, more Medieval - that contributes to that certain, characteristic Viennese sense of humor.


Referred to as Wiener Schmäh by the locals, this gallows humor is melancholy, sarcastic, and just often enough, mean. The term comes from the German verb schmähen which means "to abuse, taunt; to vilify someone." The mentality is said to stem from the working-class denizens of the 19th century who had a more or less Dickensian look on life. Well, can you blame them? Dickens knew what he was writing about! He does have an adjective named after him.

Part of this is evident in what Freud liked to call Schadenfreude, that is, feeling good about yourself when someone else is suffering. Austrians like this. They also like correctness. By that, I mean they like being right. It gives them a sense of self-satisfaction. In fact, a typically Austrian habit is having things your way. Just like at Burger King. 


In the mind of an Austrian, there is a right way and a wrong way to do everything. Their way is right, yours is wrong. However, it is justifiable to do things your "wrong" way, as long as you follow the Austrian's "right" way rules: thus enters bureaucracy! I would argue this can be traced back to the Habsburgs. All that empire hoopla.  I can't even remember how many times I've been told, "You're doing it wrong," by an Austrian. From how I pronounce my "ä"s to what type of cake I order at a cafe - yes, I am getting a slice of Linzertorte because that is what I like. You are not going to eat it, so shut up. It's still a free country, even if socialist (joke!) - everything seems to be up for grabs. 

Linzer Torte

 Unfortunately, I seem to have adopted a bit of that cynicism. Maybe it's because I'm getting over a cold. Maybe it's because the weather turned from below zero temperatures (Fahrenheit) for weeks on end to being in the 30's and 40's within a few days - should make me happy, but my sinuses are disagreeing - but I've been feeling a little geschmäht recently. A little victimized. A tad, wee bit under the weather - in the grumpy sense of the phrase. In fact, I've been a regular cynical grouch. I'll just have to wait for something bad to happen to someone else, and then I'll feel better.

Die Zauberflöte

I am slowly but surely trying to update my blog so it reflects my "life"! (I don't know why I put "life" in quotes, it just seems appropriate.) 

Around Christmastime, one of my teachers gave me free tickets to Mozart's Die Zauberflöte  (The Magic Flute) at the Wiener Staatsoper  - she has season tickets, and for some inexplicable reason, hates this opera. Well, all the better for me, I guess, since I got to go! And I actually got a seat...normally I buy a Stehplatz, or standing ticket, because they are super affordable (€3-4) and I don't really mind standing. The view is actually pretty good, and in fact better than some of the more expensive "seats" where you sit on one side of the stage or the other and thus can't see anything except the orchestra pit. I end up standing whenever I get one of those, anyway.

True to the opera, this production was fanciful - there was a revolving box as the stage, as you can see from the picture - and excellent quality, as is practically everything staged at the Staatsoper. The one problem was that during the Queen of the Night's famous solo, her crown fell off. I was with a friend, and we laughed, which was mean. But, on stage, she didn't break her concentration, and didn't hit a false note. Now that is stage presence.

According to some, the Vienna State Opera is the premiere in the world. I would agree, except I don't think I should agree too quickly. I haven't seen much opera outside of the United States and Europe. Though, this one in Vienna was definitely head and shoulders above the production I saw at the Deutsche Oper in Berlin in 2007, complete with a giant papier-mâché rhinoceros (actually, the only thing that really stuck out to me about the whole thing). 

For those of you with the opportunity to go to an opera in Berlin, I highly recommend the Berliner Staatsoper (the State Opera seems to get more funding and better singers and directors). I saw a most magnificent version of Der Freischutz there.

As for the Wiener Staatsoper, they are highly respected, and tend not to take many risks (so, for those of you into avant garde theater, look elsewhere). Personally, I am never disappointed with a performance. 

If you are not familiar with the plot, Wikipedia gives a good summary. I love it because of all of its mystical undertones, especially having to do with the Free Masons (Mozart was one) and Zoroastrianism. 

The Pearl of the Danube

The moniker of "Pearl of the Danube" is actually the nickname of Vienna's sister city, Budapest, where the Danube plays more of a role in the city's feel and look. That is, the Danube actually runs through the city, and there are two banks, unlike in Vienna, which was really only settled on one side of the Danube.

Thus, on my third trip to Budapest, I noticed certain things I hadn't before, and was reminded of other impressions I'd gathered earlier as well.

Because the Danube so beautifully flows through Budapest, walking along the riverside, I was struck by how much Budapest reminds me of Paris. It's interesting that the placement of a river in a city could do so much to change its atmosphere. Budapest is a lot lighter, more open, and some ways, thus, friendlier, than Vienna. Other factors play into the "friendliness" bit too, however.

The Vienna Innere Stadt basically retains its Medieval atmosphere, with crowded cobblestone streets, and juxtaposes them with mammoth 18th century architectural structures designed by Maria Theresia during her rule of Austria-Hungary. Budapest has the same sorts of things, but also - as you will see - monolithic structures built into the stone of the Pest hills, which make it unique and splendid.

Also, whereas everything in Vienna is neatly preserved and beautifully maintained, due to corruption in government and overall lack of money to do anything like maintain UNESCO World Heritage sites, Hungary is in fact the opposite of Austria: a topsy-turvy Oz. Vienna through the Looking Glass. Everything is of the same construction: in that way, they truly are twinned cities architecturally. But since Vienna gets all that income from tourists, she has a reason to look nice. I do feel a bit like Alice in Wonderland nodding and smiling to shopkeepers chatting in Hungarian, or old women walking their Vizslas. Budapest's history with communism has left her bedraggled: still beautiful, but more solemn. And much the worse for wear.

Here are some photos. Unfortunately to me, all of the pictures of monuments end up turning out the same, no matter how you photograph them, or from what angle. You may have a different opinion.

Famous Austrians IX: Falco

Seriously, this man was a genius, and (after Mozart) probably the most famous Austrian musician. Here is a sample of his music:

Falco, born Johann Hölzel in Vienna in 1957, was a 1980's pop/rock icon, and is most noted in the USA for his 1985 hit "Rock Me Amadeus" (and its Simpsons parody "Dr. Zaius") though he had plenty of other fabulous songs. Unfortunately, his talent and popularity was not really extended beyond the German-speaking world, mostly because of language barriers.

Similar to Mozart, Falco was considered a child musical prodigy, after he tried out for the Vienna Music Academy at age five. He reportedly had perfect pitch. He began classical musical training in Vienna as a teenager, but the dropped out to pursue a rock career.

Falco died tragically young in a car crash in the Dominican Republic in 1998. And very unfortunately, unlike Tupac, Falco's posthumous CD releases are few and far between. However, his music is still immortalized in Austria - every time I go to Zielpunkt, I hear "Der Kommissar" over the store radio.

What's in a Dream?

I've been having some weird dreams lately. So much so that I (ironically) wanted to try to find some solace in psychoanalysis. Specifically the granddaddy of it all - Freud.

I figure, while I'm in Vienna, who better to turn to? Of course, many of Freud's theories have (rightly) fallen out of favor; but, many of his discoveries on sleep patterns and hypotheses of how dreams come to be are still the mainstay for psychiatrists and dream interpreters.

The interesting thing about Die Traumdeutung is that, with little more than a hunch, Freud's theories on dreaming ended up being proven in clinical trials - for example, dreaming in sequential order; the idea that a person cannot invent new faces, but uses faces that already exist for "dream people" be they familiars or strangers; colors and objects as symbols rather than literal. Though Freud did have a penchant toward interpreting things phallically.

Freud was also the first to point out that mere seconds elapse during a dream. The feeling we often have of a dream (especially a nightmare) going on forever is, simply put, an illusion. It only feels like hours - or days, or weeks - have passed. Most dreams do not last more than one minute, though they can be linked in our subconscious, which is why in your dreams you may be sitting on a bus in one instance and be "magically" transported to the beach in another. Although dreams do have a beginning and an end, the brain does not make the distinction.

Lucid dreams happen when the dreamer realizes, or remembers, that he or she is dreaming. I often have dreams of this type, and, according to this website (also where I got the lovely photo at the beginning), that means I am highly evolved. That's kind of neat!

Although the text of Die Traumdeutung is sort of a snore (pun intended), it is good to remember that Freud was writing for the 19th century science crowd - most anyone picking up his book during his lifetime would have been a fellow doctor. Thus, the language is a bit outdated, cumbersome and - ahem - Austrian. That is, more convoluted than it has to be. Still, I hope to find new insight into my subconscious self, now that I know the theory behind it.

Heilige Drei Königen

Happy Epiphany!

Just wanted to share some photos of the "traditional" Austrian Christmas tree:

With real candles, though not lit in the photo: 

And the Nativity scene, which is all important on days like today, where the arrival of the three kings in Bethlehem is celebrated (i.e., in Austria, just another excuse to have a party!)

Sliding into the New Year

Um, sorta dropped the ball on this one...but Happy New Year nonetheless!

As may be imagined, I had a hangover New Year's Day (and beyond) but, well, you're only young once.

The typical Austrian name for New Year's Eve is Silvester, owing that December 31 is St. Silvester's feast day. Gotta get that Catholic jazz in there somehow.

Interesting to note is that in Austria, the new year is celebrated with pigs, ladders, four-leaf-clovers, and little lead pieces as good luck symbols. The lead pieces are melted and then thrown into water to divine a person's fortune for the coming year - sort of like reading tea leaves.

Fireworks are also used to celebrate, though I'm going to have to be a Grinch and say I dislike fireworks. The city of Vienna has a fireworks show near St. Stephen's Cathedral, which is always so crowded you're likely to have something stepped on or stolen. Locals also buy their own and light them in their backyards. Or, failing sufficient backyardage, in the street. This New Year's Eve, a friend of mine got hit in the forehead by a rogue bottle rocket, which has dampened my enjoyment of such spectacles.

The part of the evening I LOVED was dancing the "Blue Danube" waltz at midnight - which is typically Viennese, sort of like how we sing "Auld Lang Syne" at midnight in the USA - and I suppose probably also the UK.