Preconceived Notions

I mentioned the dangers of first impressions in my first entry on Prague. I want to address another: preconceptions. As try as I might, it sometimes is difficult not to approach a place with some idea already formed of what I might expect. In the case of Vienna, I had tried to block out the stories I had heard about the sometimes gruff Viennese (in particular the haughty waiters at the famous cafes). I tried to block out the notion that it would be a sort of Disneyland of fancy palaces and people dressed up as Mozart. But, nonetheless, before ever setting foot in Vienna, I think I had decided that I would probably not love the city. I would be able to appreciate it, intellectually, of course. But not love it. I imagined I would find it a rather staid, stuffy place, even “cold”.

How wrong I was.

Although I know I just said first impressions were dangerous, I immediately fell for Vienna - almost from the moment I stepped off the train from Budapest. I think I can say, with some certitude now that I’ve been in Vienna a few days, my initial impression, in this case, has held and will continue to do so. Considering my anticipated reaction, this first impression might be more valid than what I experienced in Prague! In many ways, it was similar to the response that I had to Berlin. I didn’t necessarily know, at first, why I loved Berlin; I just did. Then, as I spent more time there, I began to be able to articulate the reasons.

In the case of Vienna, here are some of my thoughts on why I was so drawn so quickly:

While there is definitely the grand pomp and circumstance you might expect of an imperial city, especially in the Innere Stadt and around the remarkable Ringstrasse, the grandeur is balanced with beauty and playfulness. The Hofburg Palace, the main residence of the Habsburgs, is built to impress, but the Volksgarten next to it is simple garden of roses with wooden chairs for the weary. The neo-gothic spirals of the Rathaus become the backdrop for a summer festival of music-film as the sunsets (I got to watch La Traviata im Hauptbahnhoff Zürich with hundreds of appreciative Viennese and tourists - something very postmodern about watching a film of an opera being performed in a public space in yet another public space…). While there are definitely many tourists, there are none of the thronging mobs that plagued certain areas of Prague. Even though the Innere Stadt (the old core of the city) is amazingly compact, the crowds seem less oppressive and easier to avoid.

Even more importantly, perhaps, is that Vienna doesn’t feel like a museum. This is a city that could easily rest on its historical and cultural laurels (especially music - Mozart, Schubert, or Strauss anyone?), but it manages to celebrate that past while not confining itself to it. There’s a healthy vibe of experimentalism, even hipness. You can go from perusing the overwhelming artistic treasure trove of the Old Masters at the Kunsthistorisches Museum , one of the great classical art museums of the world, to lounging on gigantic yellow concrete half-moons in the central courtyard of the MuseumQuartier, a complex devoted to art of all varieties. You can enter the gorgeous Secessionist Secession and view Gustav Klimt’s sensual Beethoven Frieze (a visual representation of the Ninth Symphony), then confront an exhibit called “Death of the Audience” (with some pieces that made those in Berlin’s Hamburger Bahnhoff seem approachable!). You can wander streets lined with stunning Baroque and Art Nouveau/Secessionist buildings, then cross the Ringstrasse or Danube Canal and find futuristic flights of modern architecture. You can drink coffee at fin-de-siècle coffeehouses, served by waiters in bowties, or you can drink a beer at a wooden bench at bar under a bridge covered in graffiti. You can dine on sausages or schnitzel, but you can also fulfill any culinary desire you might have (I even stumbled on a Sri Lankan restaurant). These are not contrasts as much as they are representations of the cosmopolitan balance Vienna seems to be able to pull off, and pull off well.

Remember the issue of the supposedly rude Viennese? My representative sample may not be huge, but almost everyone I have met and interacted with has bucked the stereotype. From the effusively grandmotherly proprietor of the Schweizer Pension where I am staying, to the chipper student at the internet center, to the gracious waiters at Kleines Café and Café Central, I have yet to meet anyone that is unfriendly. Even people on the street have been incredibly helpful (and, yes, friendly).

Vienna is not quite what I expected. And that’s a very good thing indeed.

(Oh, by the way, there are people dressed up as Mozart.)

---

---

---