Round Two, people!! Are you ready??? Today was a slightly earlier morning because we were taking the bus to Potsdam to visit Sans Souci, the palace there that was built by Friedrich der Große (aka Fredrick the Great or Fredrick II). San Souci is French for “without tears” or “without cares.” At one point, he said that he would never be sans souci until he died. Friedrich der Große ruled for forty-six years, the longest reign in German history. He was the Prussian emperor during the reign of Maria Theresa, the Hapsburg empress of Austria. Friedrich designed the footprint of the palace himself. It is all on one level and does not have a basement. People say that this is supposed to reflect his wish of a simpler life, but in all actuality, the man just hated stairs. Since my legs are still sore, I appreciate his dislike of them. The palace was built in a vineyard, which still grows today. He was a man that enjoyed eating from his own gardens and had several greenhouses built to grow exotic fruits and vegetables like bananas and pineapples. The vines are on the south side of the palace and built into the hill are little closet like things that house fig trees. This is done to capture the most amount of heat.
The south side of the palace is decorated with statues of the friends of Bacchus. This represents the transition between the palace and nature. Bacchus was the Roman god of wine and vineyards. Each statue is different, depicting both males and females. As you stand in front of Sans Souci, to the right is where Friedrich is buried. Initially, he was interred in a church next to his father, but his living testament was to be buried near in the spot he is now, near his favorite dogs. On top of his grave marker is a wreath of bay leaves, a potato, and some flowers. Bay is a plant that is always green, and a wreath is made for poets and philosophers to wear on their heads. The potato is there because Friedrich actually wrote a law stating that they were to be grown. At that time, many people didn’t know how to eat them in Europe, and would eat the leaves instead, which are poisonous. Because of this, many priests were calling them a plant of the devil and farmers refused to grow them. Today, the potato is a major staple in the German diet, all thanks to Friedrich.
The north side of the building is decorated in a neo-classical style with arches and columns. At the top of the columns are leaves, which act as the bridge between the building and nature. If you look out past the terrace, you see some ruins that were constructed so that Friedrich would have his own piece of ancient Rome in his backyard. The snow from the night before had stuck, and it was a bit misty and grey, so the ruins looked really awesome. I hope my pictures of them turn out nicely.
Side note: All of the windows at Sans Souci are actually French doors. Along the north side, they all opened so that guests could come outside to go to dinner since their apartments were next to each other and this created some sense of privacy for each.
Our guide even took us inside the palace. We had to put on these crazy wool slippers to protect the floors of the palace. I’m not sure if I have a picture of them, but I know somebody does, so I’ll borrow it off of facebook. We weren’t allowed to take pictures inside the palace for the most part. I’m personally not a fan of this rule. I can understand it for places that are very old and have lots of frescos and such that need to be preserved. But for places that are newer, it’s just an excuse to make you buy postcards. This ties in a bit to having to pay for museums (all the countries of the east complained about the evilness of the United States and capitalism, but our museums are free and the socialist countries’ museums are not) and bathrooms.
The interior of the palace is done in Rococo style, which is overly ornate. They don’t use a lot of straight lines, and everything is gilded with gold. At first, it’s overwhelming, but after a while, you just kind of learn to ignore it so your eyes don’t pop out of your head from over stimulation.
The following information on Sanssouci is from wikipedia (it was suggested that I start kind of citing my sources of information, just in case)
Sanssouci (French "without cares") is the former summer palace of Frederick the Great, King of Prussia at Potsdam, just outside Berlin. It is often counted among the German rivals of Versailles. While Sanssouci is in the more intimate Rococo style and is far smaller than its French Baroque counterpart, it is notable for the numerous temples and follies in Sanssouci Park. Designed by Georg Wenzeslaus von Knobelsdorff between 1745 and 1747 to fulfil Frederick's need for a private residence where he could relax away from the pomp and ceremony of the Berlin court, the palace is little more than a large single-storey villa—more like the Château de Marly than Versailles. Containing just ten principal rooms, it was built on the brow of a terraced hill at the centre of the park. So great was the influence of Frederick's personal taste in the design and decoration of the palace that its style is characterised as "Frederician Rococo", and so personally did he regard the palace that he conceived it as "a place that would die with him".[1] Because of a disagreement about the sight of the palace from the park Knobelsdorff was fired in 1746. Jan Bouman, a Dutch architect finished the project.
During the 19th century, the palace became a residence of Frederick William IV. He employed the architect Ludwig Persius to restore and enlarge the palace, while Ferdinand von Arnim was charged with improving the locality and thus the view from the palace. The town of Potsdam, with its palaces, was a favourite place of residence for the German imperial family until the fall of the Hohenzollern dynasty in 1918.
After World War II, the palace became a tourist attraction in East Germany. It was fully maintained with due respect to its historical importance, and was open to the public. Following German reunification in 1990, the final wish of Frederick came to pass: his body was finally returned to his beloved palace and buried in a new tomb overlooking the gardens he had created. Sanssouci and its extensive gardens became a World Heritage Site in 1990 under the protection of UNESCO;[2] in 1995, the Foundation for Prussian Palaces and Gardens in Berlin-Brandenburg was established to care for Sanssouci and the other former imperial palaces in and around of Berlin. These palaces are now visited by more than two million people a year from all over the world.
The location and layout of Sanssouci above a vineyard reflected the pre-Romantic ideal of harmony between man and nature, in a landscape ordered by human touch. Winemaking, however, was to take second place to the design of the palace and pleasure gardens. The hill on which Frederick created his terrace vineyard was to become the focal point of his demesne, crowned by the new, but small, palace—"mein Weinberghäuschen" ("my little vineyard house"), as Frederick called it.[3] With its extensive views of the countryside in the midst of nature, Frederick wanted to reside there sans souci ("without a care") and to follow his personal and artistic interests. Hence, the palace was intended for the use of Frederick and his private guests only during the summer months, from the end of April to the beginning of October.
Twenty years after his creation of Sanssouci, Frederick built the New Palace (Neues Palais) in the western part of the park. This far larger palace was in direct contrast to the relaxed ethos behind Sanssouci, and displayed Frederick's power and strength to the world, in the Baroque style. The design of the New Palace was intended to demonstrate that Prussia's capabilities were undiminished despite its near defeat in the Seven Years' War.[4] Frederick made no secret of his intention, even referring to the new construction as his "fanfaronnade" ("showing off").[5]
This concept of a grand palace designed to impress has led to the comparison of the palaces of Potsdam to Versailles,[6] with Sanssouci being thrust into the role of one of the Trianons. This analogy, though easy to understand, ignores the original merits of the concept behind Sanssouci, the palace for which the whole park and setting were created. Unlike the Trianons, Sanssouci was not an afterthought to escape the larger palace, for the simple reason that the larger palace did not exist at the time of Sanssouci's conception. It is true, however, that Sanssouci was intended to be a private place of retreat rather than display of power and strength and architectural merit. Unlike the Trianons, Sanssouci was designed to be a whole unto itself.
Sanssouci is small, with the principal block (or corps de logis) being a narrow single-storey enfilade of just ten rooms, including a service passage and staff rooms behind them. Frederick's amateur sketch of 1745 (illustrated above)[7] demonstrates that his architect, Knobelsdorff, was more a draughtsman at Sanssouci than complete architect. Frederick appears to have accepted no suggestions for alteration to his plans, refusing Knobelsdorff's idea that the palace should have a semi-basement storey, which would not only have provided service areas closer at hand, but would have put the principal rooms on a raised piano nobile. This would have given the palace not only a more commanding presence, but also would have prevented the problems of dampness to which it has always been prone.[7] However, Frederick wanted an intimate palace for living: for example, rather than scaling a large number of steps, he wanted to enter the palace immediately from the garden. He insisted on a building on the ground level, of which the pedestal was the hill: in short, this was to be a private pleasure house. His recurring theme and requirement was for a house with close connections between its style and free nature. The principal rooms, lit by tall slender windows, face south over the vineyard gardens; the north façade is the entrance front, where a semicircular cour d'honneur was created by two segmented Corinthian colonnades.
In the park, east of the palace, is the Sanssouci Picture Gallery, built from 1755 to 1764 under the supervision of the architect Johann Gottfried Büring. It stands on the site of a former greenhouse, where Frederick raised tropical fruit. The Picture Gallery is the oldest extant museum built for a ruler in Germany. Like the palace itself, it is a long, low building, dominated by a central domed bow of three bays.
Following the death of Frederick a new era began, a visible sign of which was the change in architectural styles. Neo-Classicism, popular elsewhere in Europe but ignored by Frederick, now found its way to Potsdam and Berlin during the reign of the new king Frederick William II. He ordered the construction of a new palace in the new more fashionable style, and stayed at Sanssouci only occasionally.
The reception and bedrooms were renovated and completely altered immediately after Frederick's death. Frederick William von Erdmannsdorff received the commission for the refurbishment. While Frederick had been constructing the New Palace in the Baroque style between 1763 and 1769, Erdmannsdorff, an advocate of the new neo-classical style, had created Schloss Wörlitz in Wörlitz Park, the first neo-classical palace in Germany. As a result of his influence, Sanssouci became the first of the palaces in Potsdam and Berlin to be remodelled with a neo-classical interior. In 1797, Frederick William II was succeeded by Frederick William III; he visited Sanssouci even less frequently than did his father, preferring to spend the summer months in Paretz Palace or on the Pfaueninsel in Berlin.
The Palace obviously didn't look like this, since it was cold and snowy when we were there, but I thought it was a nice picture all the same. It was no coincidence that Frederick selected the Rococo style of architecture for Sanssouci. The light, almost whimsical style then in vogue exactly suited the light-hearted uses for which he required this retreat. The Rococo style of art emerged in France in the early 18th century as a continuation of the Baroque style, but in contrast with the heavier themes and darker colours of the Baroque, the Rococo was characterized by an opulence, grace, playfulness, and lightness. Rococo motifs focused on the carefree aristocratic life and on light-hearted romance, rather than on heroic battles and religious figures: they also revolve heavily around natural and exterior settings; this again suited Frederick’s ideal of nature and design being in complete harmony. The palace was completed much as Frederick had envisaged in his preliminary sketches (see illustration above)
The palace has a single-storey principal block with two flanking side wings. The building occupies almost the entire upper terrace. The potential monotony of the façade is broken by a central bow, its dome rising above the hipped roof, with the name of the palace on it in gilded bronze letters. The secondary side wings on the garden front are screened by two symmetrical rows of trees each terminating in free-standing trellised gazebos, richly decorated with gilded ornaments.
The garden front of the palace is decorated by carved figures of Atlas and Caryatids; grouped in pairs between the windows, these appear to support the balustrade above. Executed in sandstone, these figures of both sexes represent Bacchants, the companions of the wine god Bacchus, and originate from the workshop of the sculptor Friedrich Christian Glume.[8] The same workshop created the vases on the balustrade, and the groups of cherubs above the windows of the dome.
By contrast, the north entrance façade is more restrained. Segmented colonnades of 88 Corinthian columns—two deep—curve outwards from the palace building to enclose the semicircular cour d'honneur. As on the south side, a balustrade with sandstone vases decorates the roof of the main corps de logis.
Flanking the corps de logis are two secondary wings, providing the large service accommodation and domestic offices necessary to serve an 18th-century monarch, even when in retreat from the world. In Frederick's time, these single-storey wings were covered with foliage to screen their mundane purpose. The eastern wing housed the secretaries', gardeners' and servants' rooms, while the west wing held the palace kitchen, stables and a remise (coach house).
Frederich regularly occupied the palace each summer throughout his lifetime, but after his death in 1786 it remained mostly unoccupied and neglected until the mid-19th century. In 1840, 100 years after Frederick's accession to the throne, his grand nephew Frederick William IV and his wife moved into the guest rooms. The royal couple retained the existing furniture and replaced missing pieces with furniture from Frederick's time. The room in which Frederick had died was intended to be restored to its original state, but this plan was never executed because of a lack of authentic documents and plans. However, the armchair in which Frederick had died was returned to the palace in 1843.
Frederick William IV, a draftsman interested in both architecture and landscape gardening, transformed the palace from the retreat of his reclusive great uncle into a fully functioning and fashionable country house. The small service wings were enlarged between 1840 and 1842. This was necessary because, while Frederick philosophised and played music at Sanssouci, he liked to live modestly without splendour. As he aged, his modesty developed into miserliness. He would not permit repairs to the outer façade and allowed them in the rooms only with great reluctance. This was ascribed to his wish that Sanssouci should only last his lifetime.[9]
The additions included a mezzanine floor to both wings. The kitchen was moved into the east wing. Frederick the Great's small wine cellar was enlarged to provide ample store rooms for the enlarged household, while the new upper floor provided staff bedrooms.
The west wing became known as "The Ladies' Wing", providing accommodation for ladies-in-waiting and guests. This was a common arrangement in mid-19th-century households, which often had a corresponding "Bachelor's Wing" for unmarried male guests and members of the household. The rooms were decorated with intricate boiseries, panelling and tapestries. This new accommodation for ladies was vital: entertaining at Sanssouci was minimal during the reign of Frederick the Great, and it is known that women were never entertained there, so there were no facilities for them.[7] Frederick had married Elisabeth Christine of Brunswick-Bevern in 1733, but separated from his wife after his accession to the throne in 1740. The Queen resided alone at Schönhausen Palace in Berlin after the separation, and Frederick preferred Sanssouci to be "sans femmes" (without women).[10]
In the Baroque tradition, the principal rooms (including the bedrooms) are all on the piano nobile, which at Sanssouci was the ground floor by Frederick's choice. While the secondary wings have upper floors, the corps de logis occupied by the King occupies the full height of the structure. Comfort was also a priority in the layout of the rooms. The palace expresses contemporary French architectural theory in its apartement double ideals of courtly comfort, comprising two rows of rooms, one behind the other. The main rooms face the garden, looking southwards, while the servant's quarters in the row behind are on the north side of the building. An apartement double thus consists of a main room and a servant's chamber. Doors connect the apartments with each other. They are arranged as an "enfilade", so that the entire indoor length of the palace can be assessed at a glance.
Frederick sketched his requirements for decoration and layout, and these sketches were interpreted by artists such as Johann August Nahl, the Hoppenhaupt brothers, the Spindler brothers and Johann Melchior Kambly, who all not only created works of art, but decorated the rooms in the Rococo style. While Frederick cared little about etiquette and fashion, he also wanted to be surrounded by beautiful objects and works of art. He arranged his private apartments according to his personal taste and needs, often ignoring the current trends and fashions. These "self-compositions" in Rococo art led to the term "Frederician Rococo".[11]
The principal entrance area, consisting of two halls, the "Entrance Hall" and the "Marble Hall", is at the centre, thus providing common rooms for the assembly of guests and the court, while the principal rooms flanking the Marble Hall become progressively more intimate and private, in the tradition of the Baroque concept of state rooms. Thus, the Marble Hall was the principal reception room beneath the central dome. Five guest rooms adjoined the Marble Hall to the west, while the King's apartments lay to the east - an audience room, music room, study, bedroom, library, and a long gallery on the north side.
The palace is generally entered through the Entrance Hall, where the restrained form of the classical external colonnade was continued into the interior. The walls of the rectangular room were subdivided by ten pairs of Corinthian columns made of white stucco marble with gilded capitals. Three overdoor reliefs with themes from the myth of Bacchus reflected the vineyard theme created outside. Georg Franz Ebenhech was responsible for gilded stucco works. The strict classical elegance was relieved by a painted ceiling executed by the Swedish painter Johann Harper, depicting the goddess Flora with her acolytes, throwing flowers down from the sky.
The white-and-gold oval Marmorsaal ("Marble Hall"), as the principal reception room, was the setting for celebrations in the palace, its dome crowned by a cupola. White Carrara marble was used for the paired columns, above which stucco putti dangle their feet from the cornice. The dome is white with gilded ornament, and the floor is of Italian marble intarsia inlaid in compartments radiating from a central trelliswork oval. Three arch-headed windows face the garden; opposite them, in two niches flanking the doorway, figures of Venus Urania, the goddess of free nature and life, and Apollo, the god of the arts, by the French sculptor François Gaspard Adam, established the iconography of Sanssouci as a place where art was joined with nature.
The adjoining room served as both an audience room and the Dining Room. It is decorated with paintings by French 18th-century artists, including Jean-Baptiste Pater, Jean François de Troy, Pierre Jacques Cazes, Louis Silvestre, and Antoine Watteau. However, here, as in the majority of the rooms, the carved putti, flowers and books on the overdoor reliefs were the work of Glume, and the ceiling paintings emphasise the rococo spirit of the palace. This exuberant form of ornamentation of rococo, Rocaille, was used in abundance on the walls and ceiling in the music room. Much of the work was by the sculptor and decorator Johann Michael Hoppenhaupt (the elder). A 1746 fortepiano by Gottfried Silbermann which once belonged to Frederick the Great remains as a nostalgic reminder of the room's original purpose.
The King's study and bedroom, remodelled after Frederick's death by Frederick William von Erdmannsdorff in 1786, it is now in direct contrast to the rococo rooms. Here, the clean and plain lines of classicism now rule. However, Frederick's desk and the armchair in which he died in were returned to the room in the middle of the 19th century. Portraits and once missing pieces of furniture from the Frederick's time have also since been replaced.
The circular library deviated from the spatial structure of French palace architecture. The room is almost hidden, accessed through a narrow passageway from the bedroom, underlining its private character. Cedarwood was used to panel the walls and for the alcoved bookcases. The harmonious shades of brown augmented with rich gold-coloured Rocaille ornaments were intended to create a peaceful mood.
The bookcases contained approximately 2,100 volumes of Greek and Roman writings and historiographies and also a collection of French literature of the 17th and 18th centuries with a heavy emphasis on the works of Voltaire. The books were bound in brown or red goat leather and richly gilded.
The north facing gallery overlooked the forecourt. Here, again, Frederick deviated from French room design, which would have placed service rooms in this location. Recessed into the inner wall of this long room were niches containing marble sculptures of Greco-Roman deities. Five windows alternating with pier glasses on the outer wall reflect the paintings by Nicolas Lancret, Jean-Baptiste Pater and Antoine Watteau hung between the niches opposite.
To the west were the guest rooms in which were lodged those friends of the King considered intimate enough to be invited to this most private of his palaces. Two of Frederick's visitors were sufficiently distinguished and frequent that the rooms they occupied were named after them. The Rothenburg room is named after the Count of Rothenburg, who inhabited his circular room until his death in 1751. This room balances the palace architecturally with the library. The Voltaire Room was frequently occupied by the philosopher during his stay in Potsdam between 1750 and 1753.[12] The Voltaire Room was remarkable for its decoration, which gave it its the alternative name of the "Flower Room". On a yellow lacquered wall panel were superimposed, colourful, richly adorned wood carvings. Apes, parrots, cranes, storks, fruits, flowers, garlands gave the room a cheerful and natural character. Johann Christian Hoppenhaupt (the younger) designed the room between 1752 and 1753 from sketches made by Frederick.
"The Flute Concert of Sanssouci"
I was actually in the room where this was painted. How cool is that? 
Die Tafelrunde by Adolph von Menzel. I was in this room too! Historians have identified eleven of the twelve men at this table, one of which is Friedrich himself and another who is Voltaire. The floors are all inlaid wood or marble. I think my favorite was in the dining room because it was all marble. Around the outside (the room is oval) are inlaid grapes and potatoes, and the whole pattern is very intricate. Each of the columns in the dining room was cut from one slab of marble. Since they are probably twenty feet high and a meter in diameter at the bottom, moving them must have been quite a challenge. Overall, I was very impressed with Friedrich der Große’s taste. Even though things were ornate and elegant, it wasn’t overdone.
However, I think it’s interesting that his wife came to palace only once. It was an arranged marriage by his father, and since Friedrich hated his father, he hated his marriage too. His wife was very smart and beautiful, and was actually related to the House of Hapsburg (Friedrich was from the House of Hohenzollen). Since this was his escape, his guests had to be issued invitations to come to Sans Souci and he never gave his wife one. She came only once to see the palace, and that was when he was away at war.
The House of Hohenzollern is a family dynasty of electors, kings, and emperors of Prussia, Germany, and Romania. It originated in the area around the town of Hechingen in Swabia during the 11th century. They took their name from their ancestral home, the
Burg Hohenzollern castle near the forementioned town. The family uses the motto Nihil sine Deo ("nothing without God").
Once we were back outside, we walked down through the vineyard and into the town of Pottsdam. We had an hour for lunch and then we had another tour. Natalia and I had left our purses on the bus, but I had a pocketful of change that came out to be about five euro. We stopped in a bakery and bought sandwiches and bread for lunch. And we even spent less than five euro, which was great. The food was really good too, and I think I have to find a bakery to buy my bread from instead of going to Zielpunkt or Billa when I get back to Vienna.
We still had some time before we had to meet at the bus and walked through the town for a bit. It’s really a very quaint place, and I enjoyed being there. I think I would have enjoyed it more if I had worn socks or if it had been a warmer day, but maybe next time. As it was, I got a piggyback for a while and my feet warmed up inside the bakery, so I survived without getting frostbite.
The next part of our visit to Potsdam was a bus/walking tour. Our guide from Tuesday was our guide today as well. She pointed out different things on our way to Cecilienhof and told us some of the history of what we’d be seeing. Originally, I think she planned on taking us on a walking tour of the gardens of Cecilienhof, but due to weather conditions, our plans changed slightly and we took the indoor tour led by someone else instead. Cecilienhof was the last residence built by the royal family of Germany. After the First World War, the German emperor had to leave his country in exile and so did the crown prince. The empress chose to go with them, while the crown prince’s wife decided to stay in Germany so her children could have a German education. During this time, the crown princess lived in Cecilienhof, which was named for her. The crown prince returned to Germany several years later and was reunited with his family in Cecilienhof, where they remained until about 1945. At this point, the Soviets were closing in and the family moved to southern Germany.
Although Cecilienhof looks small from the outside, it houses 109 rooms and each of the chimneys are different.
Schloss Cecilienhof is in the Northern part of the New Gardens in Potsdam, close to the Jungfernsee lake. It was the last palace built by the Hohenzollern family. Kaiser Wilhelm II of Germany built it for his son Crown Prince Wilhelm of Germany and the crown prince's wife Duchess Cecilie of Mecklenburg-Schwerin. The house was designed by Paul Schultze-Naumburg to look like an
English Tudor country house [1] and was built between 1914 and 1917. Its design was based on a house called 'Hillbark' on the Wirral Peninsula.[2] which in turn was inspired by Little Moreton Hall.[3] Cecilienhof was the location of the Potsdam Conference between July 17 and August 2, 1945. The palace is now a museum and Hotel.
This palace was used as the meeting place for the Potsdam Conference. Here, Stalin, Roosevelt, and Churchill met to discuss the future of the German State. There are no pictures allowed inside, but I managed to get one of the table where the conference was held. The majority of the furniture currently in the palace isn’t original. Much of that was lost in a fire while it was being kept in a storage area. According to our guide for that part of the tour, the Big Three had each of their areas decorated in line with their tastes and wishes. I’m not really seeing it, but I think the Brits got the best end of the deal when it came to office furniture. Each of the delegates of the Potsdam Conference had to use different doors to enter the conference hall. I’m still not sure why this is, but I think it has something to do with secret deals et al.
On a totally different note, because the above pretty much concluded any special events that occurred during the day, I actually saw Natalia before I ever set foot in Vienna. We were talking on the bus this morning about applying for study abroad and getting the visa. She said she had some issues with getting it because she was studying at the university here and not just at IES. Eventually, they gave her the visa but she had had to go back to the consulate to pick it up. Since she goes to Barnard right in the City, this wasn’t a big deal for her. I mentioned that mine went through relatively quickly, but I had brought about six copies of everything with me. Natalia asked when I had gone, and I said I was pretty sure it was in either late October or early November, and that I had been there right when the consulate opened. Then I got to talking about the obnoxious guy who was there in front of me and she knew about whom I was talking. It turns out we were at the consulate that same morning! Is that too weird or what? Anyway, that was my major wow story of the day.
On another different topic, we stopped by a bookstore tonight for some entertainment. And I found the Harry Potter series (in hardcover) in German. I think it has to be some of the coolest things I’ve seen. So if you want to get me a super awesome Christmas present, that would be it. I also saw a bunch of children’s books, like bedtime stories, that were adorable. Those kinds of books are just great to read because the grammar is really simple and so are the ideas, so you don’t get a headache after just one page.
And that pretty much sums up my day. Since I’m writing this at after one in the morning, I’d also like to state that I’ve been in Europe for a month now. It’s very cool, but it’s sad to think that it’s going by that quickly. I mean, it’ll be good to be back home and see everybody and the horses and the dogs again, but I think I’ll miss Vienna. I’m really looking forward to going back there on Sunday. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I enjoy Berlin, but it’ll be nice to be back home.
This seems like an appropriate time to address the “feel” of each city. I’ve really liked both Vienna and Berlin, but Dresden and Weimar weren’t really my thing. Vienna has that very old class going on for it, and it is charming in its own way. Weimar is famous only because famous people lived there at some point in their lives. A lot of the tour was just dates, which I found to be somewhat annoying, but the town itself was pretty, it just wasn’t overly interesting. Dresden still has that feel of “we’ve been bombed, and you need to pity us.” I personally don’t care for it at all, but I know some people absolutely fell in love with that city. I was just reminded of something very bleak and desolate, and very much stuck in self-pity mode. In Berlin, you find people who approach the bombing with a very matter-of-fact way. They’ve really done their best to restore and rebuild what can be restored and rebuilt, but at the same time, they’ve moved forward and on with their lives. In fact, after Shanghai, Berlin has experienced the largest construction boom in the world. It’s like they still remember their past, but they aren’t as all-consumed by it and are doing their best to move forward.
Friday, February 09, 2007
I was up kind of late last night working on this whole blog thing, and since today was a free day, I took the opportunity to sleep in a bit. The weather was pretty crappy too – a “wintry mix” and cold, damp air. So I pretty much don’t mind that I spend the morning either sleeping or looking at maps for things to do.
We thought we’d get tickets to see a movie since Berlinale is taking place right now. Apparently, all these big movie stars like George Clooney are in the city this week, but since I haven’t seen them, I’m not really sure if I believe that or not. All the tickets were sold out for the one we wanted to see, so our plans changed. Anna, Natalia, Corinne, and I walked out to see the Victory Monument. We got a few pictures of it standing in the middle of the street, but since the day was so grey and misty, I’m not sure if they’ll come out. From there, we walked over to the Philharmonic for a tour there. We heard about it in one of the books in the hostel, and it was a pretty cool thing to do. In the book it was listed as free, but in real life it was only two euro, which wasn’t bad. The whole concept was to incorporate nature into the building, which has the Tiergarten on one side and the Sony Center on the other.
The Berlin International Film Festival, also called the "Berlinale" (in reference to the Biennale at Venice), has been called one of the world's most prestigious film festivals.[citation needed] It is the film festival with most visitors worldwide.[citation needed] It is held annually in February (in 2007 from February 8 until February 18) and has been held since 1951. The jury places special emphasis on representing films from all over the world. The awards are called the Golden and Silver Bears (the Bear is the symbol of Berlin).
The premieres are held in the Berlinale Palast located at Marlene-Dietrich-Platz 1.
The Victory Column (German: Siegessäule) is one of the more famous sights of Berlin. Designed by Heinrich Strack after 1864 to commemorate the Prussian victory in the Danish-Prussian war, by the time it was inaugurated on 2 September 1873 Prussia had also defeated Austria in the Austro-Prussian War (1866) and France in the Franco-Prussian War (1870/1871), (so-called Unification Wars) giving the statue a new purpose. Different from the original plans, these later victories inspired the addition of the bronze sculpture of Victoria, 8.3 meters high and weighing 35 tonnes, designed by Friedrich Drake. Berliners, with their fondness for disrespectful names of famous buildings, call the statue Goldelse, meaning something like "golden Lizzy".
Anchored on a solid fundament of polished red granite, the column sits on a hall of pillars with a glass mosaic designed by Anton von Werner.
The column itself consists of four solid blocks of sandstone, three of which are decorated by cannon pipes captured from the enemies of the aforementioned three wars. The fourth ring was added when in 1938/39 the column was moved to its present position (see below) and uses golden garlands for decoration.
The foundation is decorated with four bronze reliefs showing these wars as well as the victrous marching of the troops into Berlin. They were created by four Berlin sculptors:
The relief decoration had to be removed on request of the French allied forces in 1945 and was restored for the 750 years anniversary of Berlin in 1987.
Surrounded by a street circle with heavy car traffic, pedestrians can reach the column through four tunnels, built in 1941 to plans by Johannes Huntenmueller. Via a steep spiral staircase of 285 steps, the physically fit may climb up almost to the top of the pillar, to right underneath the statue, for a small fee and a spectacular view over the Tiergarten.
Even many Berliners do not know that originally the column was erected with a height of merely 50.66 meters opposite the Reichstag building. In preparation of executing the monumental plans to redesign Berlin into Welthauptstadt Germania, in 1939, the Nazis relocated the pillar to its present location at the Großer Stern (Great Star), a large intersection on the visual city axis that leads from the former Berliner Stadtschloss (Berlin City Palace) through the Brandenburg Gate to the western parts of Berlin. At the same time, the pillar was augmented by another 7.5 meters, giving it its present height of 66.89 meters. The monument survived World War II without much damage. The relocation of the monument probably saved it from destruction, as its old site in front of the Reichstag was destroyed in the war.
The column is featured in Wim Wenders' film Wings of Desire as being a place where angels congregate. The golden statue atop the column was featured in the music video to U2's "Stay (Faraway, So Close!)" and inspired Paul van Dyk's 1998 trance music hit, "For an Angel". "El Ángel" in Mexico City bears a more than passing resemblance to the Berlin victory column, while both echo the earlier examples of the victory column crowned by an angel, notably the Alexander Column in Saint Petersburg.
Same kind of caption as the others, except when I took my pictures, it was misty as well as snowy.
Our guide told us that many people would walk all the way around the building because the main entrance is so unassuming. The architect was one of that very idealistic generation in the early twentieth century that wanted everybody to enter the Philharmonic together. Originally, the building contained many plants, but because the light wasn’t good enough, they were removed. The architect also color-coded the hall. Everything on the right side is done in blues and greens, and everything on the left side is done in reds and yellows. It’s extremely cool to see. There are very few right angles, and many of the windows in the entrance area are round. Much of the inspiration for the design also came from ships, which explains the round windows and the exposed staircases. Inside the actual performance room, there are literally no right angles. The architect liked pentagons better, and that is the basic shape of the Philharmonic. In this area, the seats are arranged in a way most people wouldn’t expect. They aren’t really in rows that go straight, and not in the normal sections. It looks like an amphitheater on different levels. This is because the inspiration for this area comes from a vineyard. The design for this was genius because there are no dead spots in the room. In more traditional concert halls, which are squares or rectangles, dead spots had to be filled with statues to create reverberation. Over the stage area hang several pieces of what I think are wood. They are placed so there is exactly a 2.2 second delay from when the musician plays the music to when he or she hears it. According to our guide, this is the perfect timing for this.
In the other wing of the Philharmonic is an area for chamber music. This part was built twenty-five years after the original area, and by a different architect who was a student of the first. If you look closely, you can see the differences even though the idea is similar. Many of the details carry through, such as the exposed stairs, but the feel of this half is different. There was a rehearsal going on in this room, so we couldn’t spend much time in there. I think this is a bit silly, and I’m starting to believe that musicians can be ridiculously high maintenance. However, the tour was very good, and they sell standing room tickets for performances. We were thinking that maybe tomorrow night we’d get some for a performance of three of Haydn’s symphonies. The conductor and the musicians are supposed to be young people and there is a different interpretation of the music. Depending on the seat/standing room prices, I guess I’ll just have to see for myself tomorrow.
Wikipedia:
The
Berliner Philharmonie in
Berlin-
Tiergarten is one of the most important
concert halls in Berlin. It is home to the
Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra. It was built by the architect
Hans Scharoun in the years
1960–
1963.
It is a singular building, asymmetrical and tentlike, with a main concert hall in the form of a
pentagon. The seating offers excellent positions from which to view the stage through the irregularly increasing height of the benches. The stage is at the center of the hall, providing an extraordinary atmosphere for both the artists and the viewers. The acoustics are excellent. On every seat the sound is nearly equally great. It is said that you can pick out individual voices or instruments even from a seat at the far end. The great hall has 2,440 seats, the smaller 'Kammermusiksaal' 1,180.
The building is located on Herbert-von-Karajan-Straße, named for the Philharmonic's longest-serving principal conductor, in the Kulturforum area of Berlin not far from Potsdamer Platz. Also found in this area are the Neue Nationalgalerie, the Gemäldegalerie, and one of the two branches of the Staatsbibliothek zu Berlin.
From there, our little group split up. Natalia went to explore the technical museum and the rest of us wanted to hunt down a Turkish restaurant we had read about. It took a couple of subway changes, but when we got off the last U-Bahn, I think I almost had a heart attack. It was one of those stereotypical subway stations; lots of men, no women, tons of smoke, and everybody watching you. I think it had to have been the most uncomfortable I’ve been since I got to Europe. After seeing so many other stations both here and in Vienna, seeing this was a bit of a shock. I got more than a little creeped out, and hustled the other girls along. Back up on street level, it was just a matter of finding the restaurant.
It was very easy to find, and we went in and seated ourselves. Even though the lamb was recommended, I opted for a chicken dish. It came with rice, bread, and a salad. Everything was delicious. The food reminds me a bit of Indian, except that it wasn’t spicy. My chicken had more of a bay leaf or rosemary smell and flavor. And I felt very intelligent during the conversation because we discussed politics and I actually had stuff to say. About an hour or so later, we got back on the U-Bahn and made our way back to the Sony Center. There, I split off from the other girls because I wanted to go over to the Reichstag and climb the glass dome.
On my way there, I got a few pictures of the Holocaust memorial, the one I was in a few nights ago. I’m pretty sure they still didn’t come out, but I honestly tried. If nothing else, I’ll just google it and find better ones for you to look at. It was getting dark as I got closer to the Reichstag, which I thought would be very cool because I’d get to see the city lit up. I took a few pictures of the Reichstag building and the Chancellery while I was waiting to go through security. Once I was inside, we took an elevator ride up to the roof, and then walked our way around the inside of the dome to the top. I kept trying to get pictures, but the glass and the rain kept getting in the way. I think I’m destined to not get a good picture of the Brandenburg Gate, no matter how much I try. But I got several of the inside of the dome, and even a few of the arm-length shots so people can stop complaining that I’m never in my pictures. It was really cold inside the dome because it’s open to the elements. The rain collects in the top and then evaporates when it warms up a bit. I didn’t get to spend much time here because we were meeting at the hostel at 6:45 to go to a concert in the city. So I finished up my pictures and started hoofing it back to the hostel.
The
Reichstag building in
Berlin was constructed to house the
Reichstag, the original
parliament of the
German Empire. It was opened in
1894 and housed the Reichstag until
1933. It again became the seat of the German parliament in
1999 after a reconstruction led by internationally renowned architect
Norman Foster.
Today's parliament of Germany is called the Bundestag. The Reichstag as a parliament dates back to the Holy Roman Empire and ceased to act as a true parliament in the years of Nazi Germany (1933-1945). In today's usage, the German term Reichstag refers to the building, while the term Bundestag refers to the institution.
The official German reunification ceremony on October 3, 1990, was held at the Reichstag building, including Chancellor Helmut Kohl, President Richard von Weizsäcker, former Chancellor Willy Brandt and many others. It was a touching event with huge fireworks, fondly remembered by many. One day later, the parliament of the united Germany would assemble in an act of symbolism in the Reichstag building.
However, at that time, the role of Berlin had not yet been decided upon. Only after a fierce debate, considered by many one of the most memorable sessions of parliament, the Bundestag concluded on June 20, 1991, with a quite slim majority that both government and parliament should return to Berlin from Bonn.
In 1992, Norman Foster won yet another architectural contest for the reconstruction of the building. His winning concept looked very different from what was later executed. Notably, the original design did not include a cupola.
Before reconstruction began, the Reichstag was wrapped by the Bulgarian artist Christo and his wife Jeanne-Claude in 1995, attracting millions of visitors.
During the reconstruction, the building was first almost completely gutted, taking out everything except the outer walls, including all changes made by Baumgarten in the 1960s. Although not undisputed for its lack of respect for the building's original design and furniture, the reconstruction is widely regarded as a success. The
Reichstag is one of the most visited attractions in Berlin, not least because of the huge glass cupola that was erected on the roof as a gesture to the original 1894 cupola, giving an impressive view over the city, especially at night. The main hall of the parliament below can also be seen from the cupola, and natural light from above radiates down to the parliament floor. A large sun shield tracks the movement of the sun electronically and blocks direct sunlight which might blind those below. Construction work was finished in 1999 and the seat of parliament was transferred to the
Reichstag in April of that year.
The concert was interesting, to say the least.
It was two pianists playing Beethoven and Chopin.
They had very different styles of playing, but I didn’t really care for either.
Maybe I’ve just spent too much time in the horse world where you’re supposed to be effective but look like you’re not doing anything.
At this concert, the pianists looked like they were almost in physical pain from playing.
I think I would have liked the experience a bit more if I had had my eyes closed because their movements and facial expressions were incredibly distracting.
We also stopped by the chocolate store before we went home. I didn’t buy anything, but I thought it was interesting because for the amount of chocolate in there, you couldn’t smell the chocolate. They had chocolate replicas of several landmarks in Berlin, including the Brandenburg Gate (and before you ask, I didn’t get a great picture of that one either). So of course I took pictures of all of this.
I think tonight is going to be an easy night, so I’m going to sleep now instead of entertaining myself for another hour or so. This should be one very good post, but in case I have to break it up into two parts, they’ll be done asap. Pictures with captions should go up sometime in the early part of next week too.
Saturday, February 10, 2007
I should apologize for any sort of logical or grammatical or spelling errors from earlier in the week. I’ve been working on this late at night and my thoughts don’t always work well then.
Today was another “on your own” sort of day, so I took the opportunity to sleep in again. Consequently, my day didn’t really start until about 10:30, and would have started even later, except that I met up with some girls and they had plans to leave, so I went with them. But first I managed to filch some hot rolls. Yum.
Our first stop on Mandy’s list of things to do was stopping by the Berlinale ticket office so Wini could get her ticket for the movie this afternoon. While she was picking that up, Anna, Corinne, Mandy, and I took some pictures and Mandy bought a purse with the Berlinale bear on it. Since it was so bitterly cold out today, we visited a few stores in the mall before venturing out again. One of them was the Ampelmann store. In the eastern part of Germany, the people crossing lights actually have cute pictures of people in them, and this store was devoted entirely to those little people. It had some cute things, but it was super expensive, so I skipped the whole buying part of shopping.
Ampelmännchen (
German:
little traffic light man) is the symbolic person shown on
pedestrian traffic lights at
pelican crossings in
Germany. The red
Ampelmännchen extends his arms to signal "stop," and the green
Ampelmännchen confidently strides ahead to signal "go."
The shapes of the Ampelmännchen are standardised, and indeed are conceptually similar to those used in other countries. Prior to reunification of Germany there were different forms used in the two German states, with those originating in the former East Germany being particularly distinctive. In contrast to the generic human figure used in West Germany, the figure in the east is generally held to be male, and wears a hat.
In the Communist East, the Ampelmännchen became a character on an East German television program used in drivers' education.
Following German unification, there were attempts to standardise all traffic signals to the West German forms, leading to calls to save the East German Ampelmännchen. It thus became a kind of mascot for the East German nostalgia movement, known as Ostalgie. The protests were successful, and the Ampelmännchen returned to pedestrian crossings, including some in western districts of Berlin. Some western German cities, such as Saarbrücken, have since adopted the design.
The East Berlin Ampelmann was created in 1961 by traffic psychologist Karl Peglau. He theorised that people would respond better to the traffic signals if they were presented by a friendly character, instead of meaningless coloured lights. However, Peglau is said to have feared initially that the design might be rejected because of its "bourgeois" hat.
In 2004, a female counterpart, the Ampelweibchen, appeared in Zwickau. It can now also be found in Dresden.
Once we were outside again, Mandy took a quick picture of the Potsdam Square clock, and then we went back to the U-Bahn to visit Alexanderplatz. It took a bit of doing to get here, because at one point the U-Bahn was under construction and we had to change lines, but in the end we managed. The TV tower is at Alexanderplatz, and there are a few other touristy things nearby. It’s pretty expensive to go up into the tower, so we just took some pictures from below. Anna wanted to find a store called American Apparel that was supposed to be nearby. It’s one of those stores that uses only American labor and only natural fibers, etc, and is supposedly supporting non-sweat shops by doing this. I personally am of the opinion that if the people are willing to work for a certain amount of money and the conditions are humane, then why not use foreign labor? But I’m sure some of my more liberal friends would love to argue that point. I just found it a bit silly.
The next stop on our little excursion was to KaDeWe, the second biggest department store in Europe. It’s huge, and it pretty much sells everything, even Fluff. We got to try a few samples. Mandy clued us in on this – “Look out for the people wearing feathers on their heads…they have samples!” I tried a melon, some pineapple, some pineapple juice, and a couple of jams on small slices of bread. It was all really good, but it just made me hungrier.
The
Kaufhaus des Westens (English "Department Store of the West", commonly abbreviated
KaDeWe) is a
department store in
Berlin, the largest in all of
continental Europe. With over
60,000 square meters of
floor space and more than 380,000 articles available it attracts 40,000 to 50,000 visitors every day.
On the way out, we stopped for a currywurst.
These are one of the thing that Berlin is famous for.
I don’t really see why.
All it is, is a wurst with ketchup and a bit of curry.
There’s nothing all that special about it.
But we did get fries, which is pretty important (at least in my mind).
Currywurst is a typical
German take-away dish, a hot
pork sausage cut into slices and seasoned with
ketchup and generous amounts of
curry powder, or a ready-made ketchup-based sauce seasoned with curry and other spices. Usually served with
french fries or
bread rolls(called "Brötchen"), it is particularly popular in the metropolitan areas of the
Ruhr Area,
Berlin, and
Hamburg. Considerable variation both in the type of sausage used and the ingredients of the sauce occurs between these areas, and there are disputes over where currywurst was originally invented and which version is to be considered "correct". Currywurst is almost exclusively sold in take-away diners, "greasy-spoon" or hot-dog stall type places, and very rarely even in restaurants (then usually as a dish for children). Some instant food makers have tried to establish currywurst as a supermarket-shelf product to prepare at home, but this has met with little success.
For decades, currywurst has been by far the most popular fast-food dish with Germans, typical of but not limited to working-class diet habits. In recent years, its popularity has suffered due to the competition of pizza and, more strongly, döner kebab. Nevertheless, it remains easily available almost everywhere and continues to enjoy a certain cult status.
Currywurst seems to have been invented in the post-World War II years, although the exact time and place of the event remain subject to controversy. According to the Berlin legend, currywurst sauce was invented by one Herta Heuwer (b. 30 June 1913, Königsberg, d. 3 July 1999 in Berlin) when, while waiting for customers at her sausage stall in Berlin's Charlottenburg district on the rainy day of 4 September 1949, she started to experiment with the ingredients out of sheer boredom. According to the Ruhr area legend, the sauce was accidentally invented by a sausage stall owner in Essen, who dropped a can with curry powder into some ketchup. In his 1993 novella entitled Die Entdeckung der Currywurst ("The Discovery of the Currywurst"), the renowned author Uwe Timm dates it to 1947 and attributes it to a fictional character called Lena Brücker, who ran a stall in Hamburg. Early in his career, Herbert Grönemeyer, raised in Bochum and arguably the most successful German pop singer, devoted a song to currywurst with lyrics in the typical sociolect of the Ruhr Area.
From here, we took a few pictures of a church that was bombed during the war and restored and rebuilt in a very unique fashion. I think it’s called Friedrichskirche. The building itself wasn’t really restored, but much more modern buildings were built on either side of it. The Germans say it looks like a compact and a lipstick case on either side of the original church.
We then made our way back to the chocolate shop I had visited the night before. This time around it smelled like chocolate, thank goodness. I decided to try some truffles and nougat candies. Unfortunately, as of right now, I haven’t had the chance to try them, but I should get to them sometime tomorrow on the bus. Then we visited our favorite ice cream place here in Berlin. It’s the same Australian place we were at the other day. I got a small chocolate cone again. As far as I’m concerned, this chocolate ice cream ranks right up there with creamery ice cream. It’s just that good.
I split with the group at this point. The rest wanted to find a grocery store and stock up for the trip home tomorrow. I just wanted to get back to the hostel and warm up. I also wanted to try the internet again because I haven’t been able to check my Penn State email since last week. (It didn’t work tonight either)
Dinner was at six, so until then, I played with my laptop, let other people play with my laptop, and chatted with IES folks. Dinner was at the Beer Stock Exchange (I don’t know why it’s that name, but whatever). We were served a wurst with potatoes and sauerkraut. The wurst and potatoes were good, and most of you know about my feelings toward sauerkraut, so we won’t go into that. And I know it’s called the Beer Stock Exchange, but I ordered wine instead. It suits me much better and I’m getting to be a fan of chardonnay.
Dessert was at Dunkin’ Donuts because we didn’t get any with out meal. It made for an interesting combination, between the very German food and the very American food, but I guess it worked.
Tonight was another one of those easy nights for me. Since tomorrow is going to be an early morning, I fought the urge to go out with some people and dance. I still have four months abroad to do things like that. Now I suppose I should go to sleep so I can get up and pack in the morning! Yay for going back to Vienna!
Sunday, February 11, 2007
One phrase: Eleven hours on a bus.
I think that pretty much sums it up, don't you?
Love and kisses,
Amanda
