07. April 2011
Last weekend I finally made “the pilgrimage.” Ever since I started learning German, I’ve been inoculated with photos of Bavaria and castles, especially Neuschwanstein. So although it’s definitely the American cliché, when a fellow ETA mentioned she’d be going to Neuschwanstein and needed a travel buddy, I was in!
 |
| German countryside from train |
After eight hours in three different trains (regional, to save money, and also why it took so long), I arrived in Munich and set right to work being a tourist. I did a self-guided city-center tour, visiting three churches, including one that looked like Rococo threw up on it. Seriously, I don’t think it gets more intense than the Asamkirche. Can you say phantasmagoric? Between the stunning stark three dimensional visual impression of black marble, laced with white curls, the gilding and the ornamentation that is so impossibly intricate, I think the décor’s extent is actually unfathomable. Another church, the Theatinerkirche, was chalky white stucco and covered over with floral elements – also white – in high relief, relying on the contrast of the shadows on its surface for visual impact. I have yet to visit a city that matches Munich for such a truly out of this world church viewing experience.
Then I moseyed my way past the royal palace, and an obelisk to where else but the museum? For three thrilling hours I allowed my senses to be enchanted by the sights, sounds and smells of art, including among other noteworthy specimens (I like to think of art having a life of its own. Museums breathe life into me by the bucketful and sometimes it amazes me that the sturdy walls of these metaphorical fortresses are capable of playing host to those lively, rattling art souls.), Overbeck’s “Italia and Germania”, Van Gogh’s “Sunflowers” and some real stunners by Klimt to remind me of the frenetic energy smoothed into soothing color and patterns I find so hypnotizing in his works, just in case I had forgotten.
That evening April arrived and we went in search of dinner and strolled through the lighted cobblestone streets in peaceful preparation for the excitement that was to come on the following day when we took the eight hour Neuschwanstein tour.
 |
| Beautiful Alps! |
“Oh my gosh!...It’s like GREEN…and then mountains!” proclaimed the Michiganesque Valley Girl behind us on the train, her words rolling off her tongue blithely as our train rolled through the staunchly green and blue panorama of hills and sky that suggested the opening scenes from “The Sound of Music” to my ready imagination. The views from the rest of the day were no less visually stimulating as I entered the magical world of Neuschwanstein, left unfinished by the “Fairytale King” Ludwig II of Bavaria’s mysterious death. “Es ist ein Märchen” (It’s a fairytale), just like Frau Doktor T, my Russian teacher, told me it would be. From the bridge you can see the stony white turrets reflecting brightly against the green valley and plains near
 |
| Neuschwanstein! |
the town of Füßen below. Inside the few (relatively speaking, since there are about a hundred rooms) rooms Ludwig II managed to fully decorate and furnish, the intensity of the detail, the richness of the colors and the dedication to bringing all things Wagner to life is unbelievable. It’s a shame that Ludwig II never had the chance to really live there or finish this one of the many projects to which he was so dedicated. I would also be curious to know what was really going on in the mind of a man who dedicated so much time and money to building such extravagant castles. All in all, it was a perfect day; the perfect escape, as perhaps Ludwig once thought of it too. Thanks, April, for being an awesome travel buddy and making the trip happen!
Sunday morning found me museuming again. Several of the museums are €1 on Sundays and special exhibitions are reduced as well, so I got into the visiting exhibit (with a Vermeer!! – “Woman Holding a Balance”) and the permanent collection of the Alte Pinakothek for €4. It just doesn’t get better than spending the morning wandering among Reubens, Rembrandt and Rosalba. Rosalba Carriera was a pastel portrait artist was able to do the near impossible and make a decent living as an artist as a woman during this the 18th century. Looking at her work you can see why. Not only are her pieces incredibly accurately personalized, but all the details of clothing and accessories are so painstakingly lifelike that it’s all you can do not to touch them just to see if they aren’t somehow real. Plus the depths of the pastels seem to breathe life into the subjects’ features. I feel like seeing all these works live is putting the 3rd dimension into my Art History education. I can only imagine the ultimate learning experience: Lecture IN the museum. Sublime.
 |
| Hohenschwangau and Schwannsee |
Along the train ride home, the announcements gradually morphed from Southern dialect back to the relatively accentless German I am accustomed to. But I smiled as I left Hof – on my way southward two days before, my fellow passengers and I had glanced at each other in surprise as an intelligible, but distinctly different German blared forth for the announcements. That was the first of many times during the trip that I thought to myself, “Dorothy, you’re not in ‘Kansas’ anymore.” Today I was ready for it, but I’ll admit that as magical as my time in Southern German ‘Oz’ was, I’m still never disappointed to return to Sachsen-Anhalt – the place in Germany that I now truly feel at home.
Deine,
 |
| Amazing Apfelstrudel |
N*
