1) Well, I certainly wasn’t expecting to wake up to the news of the bombing of Iran. Returning from the bathroom at 6:30 in the morning, I just thought I’d check my phone quickly, little wotting something so important that it would not be possible to get back to sleep.
2) I did a tarot reading for myself, got dressed in full canonicals, and went over to the little café at the subway station (which has become a regular stop for me) for a cappuccino and a chocolate croissant. It’s funny, a) I’m drinking less coffee on this vacation than I do at home (unless at a hotel buffet, where I feel obligated to get value for money), and b) having brought along a two-month supply of my preferred sweetener packets, I forget them so often I either just use regular sugar or do without.
After the service.
3) A dear friend had advised me to go to the Augustinerkirche for Sunday Mass because of their music program, so wouldn’t you know it, it led me right back to the Hofburg. Seating in the church is in three long sections, two central and one to the left. When I arrived at 10:30 for the 11 AM High Mass, the two central sections were 3/4 full and the section to the left was nearly empty. I took a seat in the back half of the central section, on the aisle in an old wooden pew for four. The church was tall and light and hung with gold or brass chandeliers at different heights, all outfitted with electric candles but turned off. That was no matter; the church was amply lit by the enormous windows in the left wall.
3a) I honor the legacy of my father when I put on a suit and tie to go to church; he believed in dressing well, especially for church. The result today was that I was the most splendidly dressed man in Vienna, though I did notice a couple other gentlemen in suits as the mass got under way. Most of the congregation was dressed for tourism: short-sleeved shirts, khakis or varying lengths, and a lot of backpacks.
3a.i) But was this congregation only tourists? Afterwards I did see people embracing each other like old friends which made me think they were Actual Parishioners — but it must be very challenging for them to have to welcome a horde of strangers who are, perhaps, more motivated by Musical Enjoyment than Christian Worship.
3b) By 10:50 the church was full, including the arrival of three or four people in wheelchairs, who were stationed in the aisle to my left.
3c) Little flurries of music, like the organ or another instrument being tuned, gave encouragement, but then I knew the mass would be starting as the chandeliers were turned on, in groups of three or four, from the front of the church to the back. It’s not like we needed the light, but they definitely added brilliance to the scene.
3d) A procession of many priestly people, the four priests at the end glittering evenly of gold embroidered into their green vestments.
3e) The service was conducted entirely in German, though I knew enough German to tell that the homily took its points from Peanuts with a lot of references to Charlie Brown, Snoopy, and Linus.
3e,i) But speaking of languages, the €10 cost estimate per person to provide the music program was printed in three languages in the bulletin. Good for them, managing expectations.
3f) The mass chosen by the music director was the Oboe Mass by Michael Haydn, who it turns out was the younger brother of the more famous Joseph Haydn. I’d never heard of Michael Haydn or his Oboe Mass, and it was a beautiful experience to hear it performed as as mass, in a church, rather than as a concert.
3f.i) During the music, I noticed a white man of perhaps my age standing in front of a column in the center of the church looking up at the organ loft. Dressed in a black trousers and a rumpled, untucked white shirt, I discerned that he was somehow connected with the music ensemble. Undoubtedly he made his report to the organist after the service.
3g) This was definitely a day to pray for peace, and I could recognize the names of places that need it in the prayers of the faithful.
3h) For a church that full, they got through Communion in fairly quick time, with one team at the main altar, and one team in the center of the church. This led to a bit of confusion, as three lines formed where there should have been two, but it all got sorted out.
3g) For the recessional they gave us another piece I’d never heard of, a toccata by Joseph Jongen, both silvery and stern at the beginning, and progressing to the Expected Frantic Ecstasy at the end.
4) With the service over, I felt I could now look over the church and take pictures. (To do so beforehand would not have been respectful, though that didn’t stop a few people.) The church is beautiful, and by lingering I was able to see the Canova-designed monument, the altar with the painting of Karl, the last Hapsburg emperor — and the bonus of seeing the chandeliers turned off.
5) The service had taken 90 minutes and the day had become very hot as I walked to the Café Mozart for lunch. My Friend Who Knows Vienna had recommended it for “a Third Man vibe,” and indeed, it was more postwar than the other Established Viennese Cafés I’d been to. I definitely preferred a table inside, and ordered a couple aperol spritzes to go with my schnitzel and, eventually, a slice of chocolate hazelnut torte.
The Strauss Memorial.
6) There was nothing for it but to go back to my room for a NAP. I had no way to string two thoughts next to each other! And when I woke up sometime after 4, I also knew I couldn’t just stay in my room or hang around the hotel neighborhood; my time in Vienna was starting to wind down. So into town I returned, and found myself at the Stadtpark, where the Viennese were disporting themselves in shade and sun, singly and in groups. One group of young women near the Strauss memorial were painting Frida Kahlo portraits. I strolled about, taking in the scene, sometimes sitting on a bench to write down a reminder to myself about something.
6a) I was trying to stay out of the sun, still a bit fierce, as my Donauinsel hike the day before had given me an honest-to-God farmer’s tan. I must say, it makes me feel old.
6b) Entering the park I heard a clarinet playing to a recorded background. In a city known for Mozart, Strauss, Schubert, Léhar — all of whom have monuments in this park (I think) — what was he playing? You guessed it, “My Heart Will Go On” from Titanic. Well, the locals must need a break from all that operetta once in awhile, and I guess tourists love the familiar. 😉
6c) My strolling took me out of the park and down the Ringstrasse, to a vandalized monument to Karl L****r, “a controversial politician.” As mayor of Vienna back in the day, he was responsible for modernizing city administration, transportation, and utilities. But he was also a nationalist and an anti-Semite. So his monument, which was put up in 1926, has been covered with graffiti and enormous splashes of black paint. The latter, to me, give a powerful new interpretation to the friezes of workmen along the base.
6d) There was a promising looking café at that intersection, but walking in I didn’t like the vibe. So I got back on the tram to ride around the Ringstrasse. And after awhile, I noticed the track wasn’t really moving in a ring any more . . . and where the hell was I? Time to disembark and retrace my steps on foot down a quiet evening street of open sweet shops and closed businesses.
6e) But then I found myself in the most beautiful rose garden! Many Viennese sitting on the benches in the evening light, a large group of tourists having their photo taken together. A man playing songs from the American songbook on a keyboard by a fountain. And wouldn’t you know it, there’s the Hofburg. It’s like my North Star, it always turns up.
6d) I found myself in a restaurant on a shopping street, where the waiter spoke as much English as I did German. But I enjoyed my dinner, and my “chocolate cake in a shirt,” which was really a warm chocolate cake covered in chocolate sauce, with a side of Schlag decorated with almonds, and the most perfect sphere of vanilla ice cream in its own delicately-sized dish on the side.
7) So often in Vienna I do my sightseeing during the day and hole up in my room at night. How lovely to see downtown Vienna on this particular Sunday evening, then, when most of the tourists had already gone away, and the heat was fading with the light. I was pleased to go back to my room and end the day on this note.
