Sachsens Glanz

Wow, it’s hard to believe that it’s been more than a month since the last time I posted! I have been working overtime in order to get everything done here in Dresden before I leave for Leipzig at the end of April, especially since I wanted to make time for visits from Dear Husband (DH) and My Awesome Parents (MAP*). DH was just here for about 10 days, and we really enjoyed the time together going out to eat, watching American movies, and catching up with each other. There was also the requisite amount of exercise, sponsored by the local mass transit authority, in the form of sprinting for various trams and buses. We even got to watch the Super Moon rise while we ate dinner overlooking the Elbe River (above)!

“Sachsens Glanz, Preussens Gloria” is the name of a popular East German made-for-tv-movie shown in 1985 & 1987 that made familiar the bedroom pursuits of Augustus II (the Strong), Elector of Saxony and King of Poland; the court intrigues around his weaker son Augustus III; and Saxony's disastrous involvement in the Seven Years' War (1756-1763). The six parts are roughly based on Polish author Józef Ignacy Kraszewski's (1812-1887) "Saxon Trilogy" novels (Countess Cosel [1873], Brühl [1874], and From the Seven Years' War [1875]) and were largely filmed "on-location" at places like Schloss (Castle) Moritzburg (below). The film was a form of escapism into a “safe” period of German history (1697-1763) and is being released on DVD for those with nostaglia for the good old old days. I took the photograph at left at a tram stop.


The title captures in a pithy phrase the historical stereotypes of Saxony’s conservativism and preoccupation with art and high culture over against Prussia’s military aggressiveness. Augustus III was busy trying to keep up with his conniving ministers when, in 1756, Frederick II (the Great), Elector of Brandenburg and King of Prussia, preemptively invaded, thus sparking the Seven Years' War. (Saxony was diplomatically part of the French-Austrian axis that opposed the Anglo-Prussian axis.) Then, to salt the wound, Frederick forcibly drafted Saxony's army into his own! So, the film series does not have a happy ending, but it does idolize the period responsible for must of Saxony's (and especially Dresden's) great art and architecture.

Schloss Moritzburg

That's not all to the history of "Saxony's Glitz, Prussia's Glory." In 1806, Napoleon abolished the Holy Roman Empire. Elector Frederick Augustus III became King Frederick Augustus I and made the then-reasonable decision to side with the French emperor.** Unfortunately, history and the Russian winter were against him, and when in 1813 Napoleon received his comeuppance, Frederick Augustus I was also captured and dispossessed. Frederick Wilhelm III of Prussia thought, oh, ALL of Saxony would make a nice addition to his kingdom, but because the other attendees at the Conference of Vienna in 1815 feared such a strong Prussia, they pressured him to accept only HALF. This became the Prussian Province of Saxony, now part of Saxon-Anhalt and not to be confused with the Free State of Saxony, which is where my project takes place.

Saxony is still fairly conservative as a state, both politically and artistically. My roommate (an artist) complains that the capital city of Dresden just wants to rest on its laurels and promote the old art and cultural institutions, whereas more industrial Leipzig—since the 1100s a fair city, a publishing center since the 1400s, and a hot spot of the 1989 revolution—is both politically and artistically more forward thinking. DH and I will explore Saxony’s second city in May, so here are some of our high culture experiences in Dresden.

Last month I decided I wanted to attend a ballet performance at the famous Semperoper (known for its architect, Georg Semper). I invited some friends, but they were not able to get us good tickets at a good price in time, so on my way home from the archive one evening, I stopped by the ticket office on a whim, to see if they had anything under 50 Euros. The ticket lady said if I was willing to pay fifty cents more, I could have a front-row seat! It was a chance too good to pass up, so I paid up and thoroughly enjoyed the Dresden Ballet’s premiere of their reconstruction of George Balanchine’s Coppelia, the romantic comedy based on E.T.A.Hoffmann’s decidedly darker short story. The music was expressively conducted and beautiful, the costumes and sets—inspired by Meissen porcelain designs—were whimsical, and the dancing was very good. The inside of the Semperoper is really stunning (right), so I was disappointed when my roommate told me it isn’t really marble in the lobbies.

The organist sits in a loft above the altar.

When DH came for a visit over spring break, we heard two concerts. The first was an organ recital in the famous Frauenkirche, which hosts a cycle of 12 organ concerts with the Hofkirche (a.k.a. the Catholic Kathedrale) and the Kreuzkirche. ¼ of those are played by the Dom (cathedral) organist in Cologne, apparently one of THE top organist positions in the country. Indeed, Herr Winfried Bönig was at the manuals that night. DH pointed out that the only original organ music Bönig played was a piece he himself wants to master this year, Bach’s Fantasia and Fugue in G major. Transcriptions of works originally written for other instruments made up the rest of the program. Ironically, the only piece in which my untrained ears could hear mistakes was Bönig’s own transcription of Bach’s “Sheep May Safely Graze”! I found the version of Franz Liszt’s (1811-1886) "Funérailles" (Funeral March) rather peculiar, as it swings between somber honor and total melodrama—typical of Liszt, says DH. The reconstructed Frauenkirche is rather like an architectural Listz piece, then, as on the surface it is over-the-top, but on closer inspection one realizes most of the sanctuary is plaster painted to look like marble. The photo shows the high-baroque altar area.

The second concert, which we attended with a new friend in Dresden, was the Dresden Philharmonie’s Bratchissimo, which is a play on the Italian/German word for viola. I found Richard Wagner's (1813-1883) »Vorspiel und Liebestod« from his opera Tristan und Isolde to be very beautiful; he was a master of musical tension. Then we heard Sofia Gubaidulina's (1931- ) double-viola concerto »Zwei Wege« (Two Ways), which premiered in New York City in 1999. It's supposed to be a meditation on the two ways in which Mary and Martha loved Jesus, with a complicated set of seven variations. But even DH didn't hear that, and all I heard was discord. But the encore the soloists played was beautiful in a classical way. Arnold Schoenberg's (1874-1951) »Pelléas und Melisande«, a symphonic poem for orchestra (Opus. 5), almost put me to sleep--but maybe I just wasn't in the right mood for it. Altogether, a glamorous evening, as you can see!


*--I was going to refer to them as the Parental Units, but they deserve a more flattering acronym!
**--In the meantime, Poland got to be a state for 30 years but then was divided up between Austria, Prussia, and Russia. When Napoleon came along he gave parts of Poland (as the Duchy of Warsaw) back to Saxony, which was able to defend them against Austrian encroachment. In 1815, Russia got most of Poland, including parts that had belonged to Prussia, and Prussia got the northern half of Saxony as a consolation prize. Although Saxony had suffered the really bad geopolitical luck of being a central area of conflict (Battle of Leipzig, anyone?) and having to support 1 million foreign troops (native pop.: 2 million), it was in the process of successfully industrializing. So (half of) it wasn't such a poor acquisition. As usual, though, Poland got the short end of the stick.