Ein Musikalischer Spaß

Freiburg is apparently a city in which laborers and civil servants find subtle ways to express strongly held opinions. Today I learned that someone in Freiburg's city planning department was a Wagnerphile.

I was exploring the neighborhood north of our apartment when I looked up and noticed that three street signs at a five-way intersection were for Brucknerstr., Richard-Strauss-Str., and Richard-Wagner-Str.

"Ah," I thought, "the late Romantics intersection! Must be one of those suburby areas where all the streets are named after a common theme." (This suburb is relatively old, however; one of the houses had 1934 in plaster relief on its exterior.)

I continued down the street and laughed out loud at the next corner, where Brahmsstrasse met Richard-Wagner-Str. Despite the composers' divergent views on musical progress, here their paths permanently intersected. Perhaps the city planner had a sense of humor.

At the next corner, I laughed again: the intersection of Schumannstrasse and Richard-Wagner-Str. But wait a sec...Wagner got the through street; and while Stauss, Bruckner, and Wagner flowed seamlessly into one another, both Brahms and Schumann ended at Wagner. Let's see now, Wagner gave us 15 hours of leitmotifs (and OK, a few gorgeous overtures), and Brahms gave us four of the greatest symphonies and two of the most spectacular piano concertos ever composed (plus the song "Sonntag," with its totally sexy upward leap of a major 9th at the words "Das tausendschöne Herzelein"--man, it makes my knees weak every time)--and Wagner gets the through street?

Mendelssohnstr., alas, was nowhere to be seen. (Indeed, I checked my Freiburg map when I got home and there isn't a Mendelssohnstr. anywhere in town. We're talking 64 years post-WWII. Shame on you, Freiburg.)

Next street: Schubertstr., a through street, followed by Haydnstr. Across Wagnerstr., Haydn becomes a footpath with several large, permanently placed recycling bins--a commentary on Haydn's reuse of musical motifs?

Rather than ending at Bachstr., Wagner ends at Händelstr. Of course, Bach permeates the Altstadt, with its several kilometers of canals, or Bächle (diminutive for Bach, which means stream).

Somewhat irritated by the lack of Mendelssohnstr., I turned back and walked down Schumannstr., where I was pleased to discover an actual Joh.-Seb.-Bach-Str. Apparently Bach led directly to Schumann, not Wagner; I can live with that.

There's also a Carl-Maria-von-Weber-Str., a short footpath between Schumann and Schubert. Really now, Weber but not Mendelssohn?

Thanks y'all

Sehr Geehrte Leserinnen und Leser ("very honorable readeresses and readers"):

Thanks for all the feedback on the blog, both via comments and via email. Blogger.com refuses to let me respond to comments with comments at the moment, so here's a full-fledged entry to catch up on issues/questions/concerns you've raised, for all you enquiring minds who want to know. In no particular order:

A zip line is a pulley, sometimes with a seat attached, suspended on a wire cable on an incline.

Thanks, Teofrastus, for contributing the Spanish word hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliofobia (fear of long words), which measures in at a delightfully ironic 35 letters (assuming I counted correctly). Helen says we left "Gesellschaft" (company) out of Donaudampfshifffahrtsgesellschaftskapitaensgattin, which would bring that word up to 49 letters. I pointed out to her that "Starnbergersee" has nine more letters than "Donau," but she objected that there isn't a steamboat company on the Starnbergersee. There is one on the Danube--so we're not just goofing around making up words here.

No, I'm not having too much fun in Germany. Being a cultural ambassador is hard work.

Ah, the platform in the toilet bowl--the #1 comment-generating topic to date! What to say.... According to Freud, a child's first gift to its parents is poop (a child who withholds such gifts is anal-retentive; and note the delighted fuss parents make over successful potty-training). The platform offers toilet bowl users the opportunity to admire, shall we say, the fruits of their labor well into adulthood. By the way, when doing routine cleaning, it is a bad idea to drizzle liquid hand soap on the platform, though the bubbles you get after flushing are mighty impressive.

Never fear, there are Beethoven and Mozart streets in Freiburg.

On the lack of a Mendelssohnstrasse: There's one in Basel and one in Offenburg, so it isn't a regional thing. I'm guessing the composer street names in the Freiburg 'burb date from the 1930s--big years for German Nationalism. A few years after Mendelssohn's untimely death in 1847, Wagner published an anonymous, remarkably anti-Semitic article on "Judaism in Music," claiming that Jews just can't write anything good and criticizing Mendelssohn's music as underdeveloped and derivative (and Heinrich Heine's poetry as false and inauthentic). So an intersection between Mendelssohnstr. and Richard-Wagner-Str. truly would have been sweet to see.

Stefan is a German citizen; Elias and I are American citizens. Stefan hasn't voted in an election since he moved to the U.S. in 1989. If he gets his act together, he'll vote this fall. We're here until the end of December.

Yes indeed, people rabidly guard their Restmuell bin space. Observe this bin, photographed this evening in the Altstadt. Know what the red doohickey on top is? That's right, it's a lock. I did manage to find a Restmuell bin without a lock downtown this afternoon (not that I would ever, ever sneak my own trash into someone else's bin, of course).

When we're back in the U.S., we'll have to invite all of Elias's java-drinking buddies over for Kuchen and decaf.

In memoriam

In Part II of Frau H.'s Altstadt tour, we learned that even if Freiburg doesn't have a Mendelssohnstr., there are some quiet memorials to the Jewish citizens killed in WWII.

Freiburg's old Synagogue, built in 1870, was burned and blasted down in a pogrom on November 10, 1938. Near its former site--now a plaza occupied by University buildings--stands a sign pointing toward Gurs, the concentraion camp in the French Pyrenees where approximately 350 of Freiburg's Jews, along with other Jews from Baden, Pfalz, and Saarland, were deported on October 22, 1940.

Distributed in various locations in Freiburg are other memorials: as of March, 2008, approximately 300 "Stolpersteine" (tripping stones) had been set into city sidewalks to remember Jewish residents who were deported and killed. This is part of a larger German project to remember the expulsion and execution of Jews, Gypsies, political opponents, homosexuals, Jehovah's Witnesses, and victims of euthanasia during the Nazi regime (1933-1945). The stones in the photograph here, located at the intersection of Augustinergasse and Salzstrasse in the Altstadt, read: "Here lived Berthold Weil/Else Weil (nee Stern), born 1899/1909, deported 1940 Gurs, murdered 1942 Auschwitz."