The wind will change...

We've all heard the saying/idle threat directed at young (and not so young) 'uns whilst pulling a face, "the wind will change and you'll stay like that". Well, today (last Friday) it did.

Since we arrived, whatever wind has been blowing, has been blowing from the west. Today it decided to come in from the north, bringing with it clouds that made the view across the lake this morning look more like Morecambe bay than lake Michigan.
The main thrust of our plan today was to visit the Art Institute of Chicago. Before setting off, we had flirted with the idea of taking public transport. I had found out that day passes only cost $5, though, to be honest, after trekking around yesterday, monetary reasons weren't the only reason to take the bus. My feet were still killing me, and public transport seemed like a sensible option.

We started off with very good intentions... We left the hotel before 9am and went for breakfast at the Water Tower Place (Mall) just down Michigan from the hotel. During breakfast I was flicking through the floor plan leaflet we had been given earlier in the week and realised that on Friday, the gallery didn't actually open until 10.30am!

As in London, most of the high street shops don't open until 10am the malls are open but the shops aren't), so we didn't even have the option of an hour's intensive shopping before jumping on the bus to whisk us to Millennium Park for a bit o' culture.

So, we lingered over breakfast, and when we set off, we decided to walk down to the institute, dodging into open malls as (below) freezing temperatures necessitated and arrived joining the end of the queue just as the doors were opened.

Max Ernst ~ Une semaine de bonté

We went to see an amazing exhibition at the Albertina last Sunday (24th Feb).

It consisted of a series of 180 or so collages created by Max Ernst and published in 1933 as a surrealist novel without words, under the collective name of Une semaine de bonté (one week of kindness, i think). The collages were created from existing woodcut and engraved illustrations, culled contemporary from books and magazines.

There were 7 different themes, each represented by a different day of the week and epitomised by a different element and example (story effectively). Here are some examples I found on the web:

I found it really interesting that when presented with images as part a series with elements repeated throughout (eggs, birds heads, bats wings), you automatically try to build a narrative now matter how nonsensical the subject matter.

I thoroughly enjoyed it. Brilliant stuff: very witty, disturbing, intriguing, sensual, beguiling.

A week is a long time...

It seems amazing that this week has gone so fast. Last Thursday (Feb 14th) we met up with a friend who was leading a group of modern history students and other interested academics on a mini trip to Vienna. We met up with them to eat at the Waldviertlerhof (which I mentioned earlier, and the food was excellent by the way) shortly after they arrived and tagged along at various points throughout their trip.

The weather turned on Friday and the temperature dropped by several degrees. We had a smattering of snow, but the worse thing was the wind. It certainly wasn't the kind of day I would have chosen to stand about in the town Centre.

Unfortunately, we were booked onto the Third Man tour, so this was exactly what we had to do! I Had known about this particular tour for a long time and it had almost worked its way into my folk memory. I was sure that a friend of a friend had been on it and had been taken down into the storm drains that run under Vienna to see the setting of the final scenes where Orson Welles tries to escape the clutches of the authorities. He didn't escape (sorry for the spoiler if you haven't seen it), and we didn't get to see the storm drains as the scene was apparently shot in the Shepperton Studios in London. We left early, feeling a little disappointed and later found out that the tour didn't even take in the Riesenrad (the big wheel) on the Prater which seemed a little odd as it is the most recognisable landmark in the whole film. Hey ho. Photo below is the doorway of Harry Lime's kitty (unacknowledged) accompanied first appearance in the film.

A tip! If you are ever really cold and happen to pass a street vendor selling roasted chestnuts, buy some, give some to your friends, put them in your gloves to warm your hands then eat them. It works a treat. Well done Jill for this inspired bit of improvisation!

Later that evening, we visited the Zwölf Apostelkeller in the centre of town to eat drink and make merry, helped along by a particularly boisterous performance from the resident violinist and accordianist who, when they found out the group was from Wales gave a rousing rendition of Tom Jones' "Why, why, why, Delilah?". All very jolly though secretly I was hoping for "Big Spender"!
Saturday was more sedate (though still freezing cold) as we ambled up and down the Naschmarkt and wandered through the accompanying Saturday Flohmarkt (Flea Market) eyeing the acres of assembled bric a brac, antiques, books, old cutlery, postcards, records and CDs, statues, furniture and general tat (you get the picture) and eventually ended up, via the mulled wine stall, at the Kunsthistorisches Museum to see the newly opened Arcimboldo exhibition.

You probably do know who he is even if you think you don't. He's the man who made portraits out of vegetables, fruit and flowers. They were actually portraits of the court of Rudolf the second (16th century) and very interesting too.

We saw the lovely snowy Breughels too.

Sunday found us at the top the Kahlenberg again, surveying the land with the whole group from on high and actually managing to spot the Riesenrad this time. We descended to the village at the bottom (Kahlenbergerdorf) down a stepped path through a vineyard which was cordoned off due to glaciated steps near the bottom. Naturally we only realised this when we were at the ice, at the bottom of the steps; we suffered no casualties, though it was a tad hairy descending at times.
When at the bottom we decamped to a pre-booked local Heuriger called Steinschaden for a delicious feast of local specialities (even featuring vegetarian options!) and lots and lots of wine. Note to self, I really must find out what Schwarz Wurzel are, because the Schwarz Wurzel salad was delicious. It tasted quite like asparagus but without the side effects. I'd quite like to try to grow some when I get home.

I had a brilliant time last weekend and met some really lovely people. Thank you :)

Dahlink! How was Bratislava?

It was actually really wet and quite miserable when we arrived, as were we after we missed the tram into the town centre and wandered off to the bus stop. Naturally, on the first rainy day of our trip, we had forgotten to pack our umbrella. We eventually jumped on a bus, any bus that was travelling in the right direction!

When we arrived in the centre, we wondered whether we had arrived on some obscure festival day (this has happened on several occasions in several different places) as all the shops were closed and there were hardly any people around at all.

We spent part of the afternoon in the Milan Dobeš Museum. The museum is housed in a very cute14th century residential building in the old town centre and is interesting in its own right, whether you like the art on display or not.

Dobeš is a Slovak son and the museum celebrates his work (over 4 floors) alongside works of other artists (including Bridget Riley and Victor Vasarely). The exhibition was good fun.

Below are pix of the main street while waiting for the tram to the station at 6pm. The place was so quiet as to make it almost surreal.

More art to shake a stick at...

It was cold today. Only noticed when we left the house this afternoon tovisit the Leopold Museum in the Museum Quartier. I think it shows how well insulated buildings are on the continent compared to back home.

When we arrived in Vienna I noticed an exhibition called Zwischen den Kriegen (Between the Wars). Unfortunately it finished the day we arrived. This morning however, Tim noticed that the exhibition run had been extended, so we decided to go along.

The exhibition chronicled the artistic endeavours of Austrian artists (not necessarily in Austria) between 1918 and 1939. The gallery is an amazing space, very understated with large well lit rooms and a huge cavernous central atrium.

The exhibition was quite interesting though completely depoliticised. Odd that.

The ground floor (and part of the basement) house the largest collection of work by Egon Schiele in the world (allegedly). It was suitably impressive. I'll take you to see it when you come to stay.

We went for a stroll around the area as the gallery closed before retiring to Das Möbel, a bar/café at the bottom of Burggasse for a bier.