A typical tourist itinerary, part 6 of 10

Monday:

            On this, our last day in the capital, we do too much, although not by design.  After finding out about this and that to do or see, our itinerary gets rather crowded.

What I had planned:

What we actually do:

·   “A Klimt Walk Through Vienna” ·   visit the Josephinum history of medicine museum ·   eat lunch ·   visit the Hundertwasserhaus and museum (Kunst Haus Wien) ·   eat dinner

·  take a photo of Succession Haus (closed on Mondays) ·  take photo of DH in front of the Mozart Haus ·  tour the catacombs at St. Stephan’s ·  see the exhibits (especially the wax anatomical models) at the Josephinum ·  eat lunch at Café Berg ·  buy a postcard for my Doktorvater at the Sigmund Freud Haus und Museum down the street ·  go across town to the Friedensreich Hundertwasser apartment building and visited his nearby museum (Kunst Haus Wien) ·  hoof it to the Belvedere in the hopes of getting our picture taken kissing in front of The Kiss (no luck, as the museum was open but the grounds were closed, so we couldn’t get in) ·  walk back to the hotel ·  (almost) fail at buying grapes at the Billa ·  eat cold leftovers for dinner in our room

This is the closest we come to Klimt and the Succession art movement while in Vienna.  The writing across the front of this Art Nouveau temple to the arts says "Der Zeit ihre Kunst der Kunst ihre Freiheit," which means, "Each age[has] its art, and art [should have] its freedom."  My photographs for this day all come out rather dark, as it is cloudy.

Meanwhile, back at the cathedral, the catacombs are pretty cool, especially the ossuaries.  To make more room in the graves, prisoners were sent down to collect the long bones (and sometimes the skulls), which were then stacked like firewood in separate chambers.  We see a mass plague burial pit and learn that Mozart’s “pauper’s burial” was not his adopted city devaluing his genius on account of his debts (cf. Amadeus) but rather part of the enlightened despot Joseph II’s (1741-1790) rational reforms: in addition to setting up a medico-surgical school at the eponymous Josephinum, he also prohibited burials within the city limits, on sanitary grounds.  Oh, but those clever wealthy townspeople: some wanted to be buried near the relics in the cathedral anyway, and if they couldn’t do it on St. Stephan’s Platz, they would do it under the Platz.  Hence, (more) catacombs.  Problem was, 400 rotting bodies per room x 30 rooms, proved too...odiferous (even walled up in their coffins), and after 40 years the stench was so bad that they couldn’t hold church services in the Dom anymore!  So the larger/newer portion of the catacombs under the Platz was abandoned, and only church officials are buried in the older but frequently renovated part under the church proper.

            2/3 of the Josephinum’s history of medicine exhibits is dedicated to old dead white guys and their books and instruments.  Even for me the appeal largely lies in recognizing this or that one.  The best part is, hands down, the wax anatomical models from the 1780s.  These consist of both body parts in various recognizable stages of dissection, and of entire bodies sculpted either laying down or standing up.  The laying-down ones include a so-called Medici Venus from Florence: a naked woman lies on a pillow in a glass coffin—er, case—her long hair flowing over her shoulders, a double strand of pearls around her neck, and her thorax and abdomen open to the searching (male?) gaze of the beholder.  I delight in pointing out various anatomical structures to DH.  [Ed.'s note: photography was not allowed, but you can see two images on the English version of the models' webpage.]

The afternoon we spend absorbing the art and architecture of Friedensreich Regentag Dunkelbunt Hundertwasser (1928-2000), the famous Austrian designer and environmentalist whose adopted name translates as “Peaceful-Realm Rainy-Day Darkly-Colorful Hundred-Waters”.  He has to be famous: who else can design, construct, and dedicate an entire art museum to themselves, 15 years before they die?  Hundertwasser thought modern architecture with its straight lines was too constraining on humanity’s innate creativity, and that the spiral was the ultimate symbol of life and death.  He wanted to unite technology and nature—hence the “tree tenants” growing out of the windows of his apartment buildings.  To prevent one’s surroundings from fading into blah-ness, he used crooked lines, bright colors, and often made the floors uneven (they would not be ADA-compliant!).  He was also a pioneer of green-roof technology.  Hundertwasser's 3D work is a feast for the senses—perhaps too rich for some tastes.  His 2D work is not for everyone.  At his best, Hundertwasser entertains me.  Other times, it just looks like he’s tripping on something.  Maybe an uneven floorboard?