Showing posts with label muenchen. Show all posts
Showing posts with label muenchen. Show all posts

Monday, July 25, 2022

Whirlwind placeholder

I have a bazillion photos waiting to be uploaded, and I'm over a month behind with blogging. So here's a place-holder to remind me of what I need to fill in...

On June 23, S and I took a train to Immenstadt, hiked to Oberstaufen, and took a train home. On July 8, we took a train to Oberstaufen, spent two days hiking to Lindau via Scheidegg, and took a train home. The sectional Steinebach-to-Lindau hike is now complete, yay.

On July 10, friend LF arrived from Durham, and three days later, we took a train to Brannenburg and spent seven days hiking to Berchtesgaden. We have doubts that the Maximiliansweg actually retraces Maximilian II's 1858 route, but more on that later. 

Other friends from Durham visited us at the end of June. They arrived almost over jetlag, having already spent a week in London, so they were able to jump right into our guided nine-day intro to Bayern. This included...

Hanging out at the lake in Steinebach...

Taking a ferry to Diessen...

Visiting Munich's Pinakothek der Moderne, admiring the ceramic exterior of the Museum Brandhorst, eating lunch at the Viktualienmarkt, climbing the church tower of Alter Peter, eating Kaiserschmarrn at the Rischart coffee house, and enjoying the Blauer Reiter artwork at the Lenbachhaus museum...

Remembering the horrific stain of Germany's not-so-distant past by visiting KZ Dachau...

Hiking from Garmisch-Partenkirchen through the Partnachklamm up to crazy King Ludwig II's hunting castle, Schachenhaus, and back down again...

Following up on the Lenbachhaus museum by visiting Murnau to see the Gabriele Muenter Haus...

...And touring the gardens and Neue Schloss at Schloss Schleissheim in Unterschleissheim.

And with that summary complete, now I'm off to bake a Shaker Lemon Pie on a ridiculously hot day, to introduce neighbors to the concept of Pie.

Saturday, December 21, 2019

Munich, day 2

On Thursday, we spent a lovely half day in Munich seeing sights old and new. Our first stop was the Hauptbahnhof, where we stored our luggage so we could walk around unencumbered. Imagine living in a country where hundreds of people can store un-X-rayed luggage for days on end in a building essential to public transportation. (Come to think of it, imagine living in a country where public transportation is considered essential.)

Our intended destination was the Staatliches Museum Ägyptischer Kunst. As we headed there from the Hauptbahnhof, Stefan pointed out the sights to E. "See that building over there? That was my Gymnasium [high school]. See the park across the street? We used to throw paper airplanes out the school windows and try to get them to land in the park." So of course, when we walked past the Städtisches Luisengymnasium, E and I nudged Stefan to ring the bell to ask if we could take a quick look around. One of the school's directors gave us a tour. A lot has changed since 1983, but a lot has also stayed the same.

S, standing in the school's assembly space
Stefan asked me to point out that, in the above photo, the thing on his head that looks like a tribble is actually a glaring corbel sculpture.

Glaring corbel ≠ tribble

Front entrance of the Luisengymnasium
As we continued toward the Egyptian Museum, Stefan observed that we were near "Inge's church"--St. Bonifaz, a Benedictine monastery that was built in 1850. It was bombed in WWII, and a dear friend of Helen's, artist Inge Seifert, made the bronze doors when the church was rebuilt.

Here are one and a half of Inge's doors:



The interior is quite modern now, retaining only few original pillars.


A side chapel contains a beautiful "Black Madonna." Alas, the St. Bonifaz website currently has no information about the church's art, so I have no idea how old this Madonna is.



Ludwig I of Bavaria is entombed at St. Bonifaz, along with his wife, Therese von Sachsen-Hildburghausen.


Front of St. Bonifaz
We continued on toward the Egyptian Museum, passing a fantastic wiggly window wall...


...and the former administrative building of the Nationalsozialistische Deutsche Arbeiterpartei (NSDAP)--the Nazi Party--built for Hitler in the 1930s (along with an adjacent Nazi-style building, the Führerbau). Hanging in front, as of eight days ago, are banners that read...


...Wir (alle) sind das Volk. Designed by Hans Haacke, the banners are part of a travelling exhibit created to honor the 30th anniversary of the fall of the Berlin wall. The slogan refers to a chant used during the Monday demonstrations in Leipzig in 1989-90--wir sind das Volk (we are the people)--but clarifies that "we" means "we all."


Across the street from the Nazi buildings was this fine doorknob:


After a very quick detour to glance at some of the neo-classical architecture in Königsplatz,...


...we finally arrived at the Staatliches Museum Ägyptischer Kunst. On the lawn outside of the museum is a curious sculpture. E thought it looked like it had a bloody nose; Stefan thought it was vomiting blood. Googling that evening, we learned its name is "Present Continuous" (2011) and its nickname is "Barfi." Barfi's red steel pole extends all the way into the Egyptian Museum, which makes me wonder if the sculpture is penetrating the earth with a red-laser eye.



The museum was built in 2013 and is mostly underground. We felt like we were descending into a tomb just entering; the interior staircase from the foyer down to the collection gives a similar impression. The building alone is beautiful in its stony simplicity.


Present Continuous is contemporary art; this sign inside the Egyptian Museum reminds us that all art has been contemporary at some point.


The museum is one of the most elegant and pleasingly informative museums I've ever seen. A bronze rail set into the stone floor guides visitors through the museum, while interactive digital stations provide accessible supplemental information about many of the exhibited pieces.


Head from a lion-shaped water spout, ca. 1450 BCE

Can you see Barfi's laser beam?
Pottery, pottery, pottery. These black and red pots are ~5,600 years old, and used techniques and materials we still use today--coil built earthenware, burnished terra sigillata, smoke.


The shard here is from a ~3,800-year-old bread baker, but it looks like it could have been carved yesterday.


The earthenware pot below is far more recent--6th-century CE.


Carly enjoyed these two sculptures of Horus as a falcon, one made of silver (6th-c. BCE) and one of granite (3rd c. BCE):



This display illustrated how a sculptor might turn a block of stone into a detailed, carved figure. I took a picture because I thought it might be instructive for next year's Paschal yam.


More ancient pottery--about 5,000 years old--made with techniques that remain contemporary:


The museum emphasized artistic influences between Egypt and other parts of the world. The last room included these humongous 9th-c. BCE Assyrian genies, formerly painted, with cuneiform text across their middles. Ludwig I bought them in 1863 from their English excavator.


The room also includes a glorious striding lion from the Ishtar Gate of Babylon (ca. 575 BCE). Most of the gate is in the Pergamon Museum in Berlin. (For another Ishtar lion, scroll down to Day 3 of http://wadlstrumpf.blogspot.com/2015/07/berlin-photo-dump-days-2-4.html. Where does this cultural treasure belong?)


After visiting the museum, we headed back to the Hauptbahnhof, collected our luggage, and hopped on the S8 to Woerthsee...


...just in time to see the Zugspitze from the back yard as dusk fell.


Wednesday, December 18, 2019

A December day in Munich

Before heading to H's, we gifted ourselves with an overnight stay in Munich, in a pension near the Englischen Garten. We set out mid-afternoon, walking through the garden and tempting smart crows with bits of apple. We passed through the Christkindlmarkt at the Chienesischen Turm--where basteln, roasted chestnuts, and Gluehwein were, unsurprisingly, the bulk of the attractions--to the Monopteros built by Leo von Klenze in 1837.


Monopteros


View from Monopteros. Dome on the left is the Residenz;
twin domes in the center are the Frauenkirche.


Carly is traveling with us





We continued on through the garden...





past the Residenz. On our way, we had a brief altercation with the bishop St. Nikolaus and his henchmen, shown huddling here:



S said, to the crony to the bishop's right, "Krampus?" The crony replied, "Nein! Klaus!" and swatted S on the behind with a straw broom. We think, post-googling, that he was supposed to be one of a crotchety host of Pelznickeln--literally, fur-clad Nicks. Krampus is an entirely other harbinger of Christmas terror. German folk legends are not for the faint of heart. 

We continued on into old town Munich and paused for a tasty Vietnamese dinner. (When in the bustling metropolis, do as the bustling metropolisians. We have another two weeks to feast on Kaesespaetzle mit geroesteten Zwiebeln.) Then it was on to Alten Peter; we climbed the 299 steps to the top of the church tower for some great views.


St. Peter's church all decked out for Advent


Look! On the horizon! It's the Zugspitze, Germany's tallest mountain!


The Viktualienmarkt down below


Nifty shadows on the exterior wall, cast by light
shining up through the iron grill work.


View of the Heiliggeistkirche, with the
world's biggest mobile ferris wheel in the background (installed April 2019).


The Frauenkirche (L) and the tower of the Neue Rathaus (R) above Marienplatz


More nifty shadows
This sign was at the top of Alten Peter, and was probably installed to demonstrate that tourists don't read signs. The exterior walkway at the top of the tower is pretty narrow--about a meter wide at its widest--and the boards are a little springy, and the ground is a long way down, so the sign is attempting to direct tourists to walk around the top all in the same direction. But why do that when you could pile up in both directions on the beautiful Marienplatz side of the tower?



This next sign provides some history of Alten Peter, which was originally a three-nave Romanesque basilica in 1050. The sign skips over how it went from basilica to the current gothic church--the interwebs put that between ca. 1181 and 1278--but it does include details about multiple fires and a lightning strike. In 1951, the church was restored to its "old [gothic] form." The bells date from 1382, 1605, and 1720. 




A view from the street to the top of the tower, ~96 meters up.
Afterward, we browsed the Christmas market in Marienplatz with several hundred other tourists. When a choir and brass band began performing from a balcony of the Neue Rathaus, hundreds of cell-phone cameras simultaneously turned north to begin filming. I didn't get a good photo of that phenomenon because the crowd was so big and we were in its midst, but imagine the photo below multiplied 20 times, and you get the idea.



From there, S and E took the U-Bahn to the Christkindlmarkt in Schwabing, near our hotel, while I walked the distance (to see more sights and get more exercise). En route, I passed this window dressing at a Louis Vuitton store...



...as well as the sign below in Schwabing. It looked to me to mean something like "people are required to appear before a judge here" or "people will be compressed into confined spaces here," but S says it means "meeting point."



After three Christmas markets in one day, we expect tomorrow morning will involve a museum or two before we continue on to Steinebach am Woerthsee.