Dateline – Vienna, Austria
Another day, another country, and only about 30 nautical miles upriver from yesterday. Perhaps the only two world capitals closer in distance are Rome and The Vatican City. Vienna has been a favorite city of mine for decades. On my first trip to Europe (forty years ago next summer) it was the city that most spoke to me. I’m not sure exactly what it was but I think it was the autumnal feeling of lost elegance and the fact that there was live classical music almost everywhere you went. I could see myself living out my days in coffee shops and antiquarian book stores tucked down little art nouveau alleyways but I don’t think I could afford it. Plus my German isn’t all that good. I took a little bit in college and it allows me to make sense of street signs and newspaper headlines but that’s about it. There’s probably some John Irving influence there as well. I read The World According to Garp and The Hotel New Hampshire both right around that time and they probably left a bit of an imprint of literary Vienna on my memories of actual Vienna.
The weather was glorious today. More June than October and perfect for running around the city on foot. A bit chill in the morning requiring a sweater but that was gone by about 10:30 AM. The organized activity in which I took part was a walking tour of the old Jewish quarter. It’s now known as The Bermuda Triangle as there are lots of nightclubs and bars and people head out there on weekends and sometimes aren’t seen for days afterwards. The Jewish community and the City Police are very cognizant of events in the Middle East and, as there have been militant Muslim attacks in the city in the past, security is a bit heightened. The main synagogue was patrolled by armed guards but I saw no signs of any sorts of demonstrations or anger. I’ve been contemplating the role of religion recently. As our unit of evolutionary survival is the tribe (not the individual), tribalism is hard wired into our brains and we sort the world into ‘us’ and ‘them’. As civilization started to take shape and it became necessary for groups of people who didn’t know each other well to trade and cooperate in various ways, mechanisms for overcoming that hardwiring had to come into being. One of the central tenets of all great religious traditions is that of hospitality and welcoming the stranger. Religion, especially the great three monotheistic Abrahamic ones, use this to turn ‘them’ into ‘us’ through shared belief and positive example. Anyone who interprets those doctrines for exclusionary purposes (and there is a lot of that these days) perverts the underlying credo of the faiths. It’s one reason I remain a good UU. We welcome everyone (and we mean everyone). Is that difficult at times, of course it is but no one said life is easy. But enough of that tangent.
The tour was interesting. The guide was knowledgeable about 1000 years of history of the Jews in Vienna and their contributions both to the city and to the world at large. 65,000 of them were murdered in the Holocaust. The memorial is a locked temple made of stone carved to represent 65,000 unwritten books. That’s symbolism I can get behind. When the tour was over, I found a nice sidewalk cafe and had a piece of Sachertorte and a coffee with orange liqueur, both mit schlag, as one must do in Vienna. Then on my own self guided walking tour to the museum district, the Hofburg, the Ringstrasse, the Stadtpark and other destinations.
While wandering around, I passed by the Vienna Staatsoper. I’ve always wanted to attend a performance there (it was somewhere on the bucket list, likely added by Tommy) so on a whim I googled what was happening tonight (as we have two days here so the ship wasn’t going anywhere). Luck would have it that they were presenting a new production of Il Trittico by Puccini and after a little noodling around, I found the last ticket available for on line sale. It was a great seat and I’ve been relatively frugal this trip so I splurged. Then I looked at what I was wearing so I stopped by a haberdasher’s and bought a new summer sport coat off the 75% rack so I wouldn’t feel too slovenly. A quick dinner and off to the opera.
How was it? Musically fabulous. Sixty some pieces in the pit playing Puccini is going to fill any hall with a lush, romantic sound. The singers were all terrific as well. The only one I had ever heard of before was Michael Volle who sang the lead in Il Tabarro. He was apparently a late replacement for someone else who had fallen ill. For those of you who are not opera buffs, I’ll Trittico is a triptych of one act operas that Puccini composed to be performed together. It’s almost never done that way. The pieces, especially Gianni Schicchi, are usually done as stand alones or paired with other one acts by other composers. (Opera Birmingham did a double bill of I Pagliacci and Suor Angelica about ten years ago for which Tommy and I were in the chorus). It’s very rare for a company to do all three together in the way Puccini intended. The evening is a bit disjointed. Il Tabarro, is a dark tragedy on the waterfront of Paris, Suor Angelica, the middle piece is an all female piece of sin and redemption that takes place in a convent, and the last, Gianni Schicchi (which contains the night’s hit tune O Mio Babbino Caro (you know it)) is a farcical comedy involving a dead body, a conniving family and an unscrupulous lawyer. This production suffered from modern European director syndrome. The set was movable walls painted to resemble concrete. Props and costumes were minimalist (other than for the last which was set with the family coming in from a Halloween Carnival) and periods were hard to distinguish. It was also the most successful of the three given the knock about Weekend At Bernie’s comic staging. Suor Angelica was thrown off kilter by some directorial choices which marred the redemptive ending. Il Tabarro was full of supernumeraries who kept marching across the stage for no apparent purpose.
Still in Vienna tomorrow. Not fully certain what I’m doing yet. I’m sure I’ll figure it out.
Life, The Universe, and Everything 