I checked in with Peter after our return from Germany and his from Montreal with his granddaughter.  He reported that his several undiagnosed health conditions have him walking with a cane. He mentioned that he’s been thinking about King Lear these days. I was prompted to send him this poem by Johann von Goethe and my effort at translation

An old man is always a King Lear

Whoever embraced or grappled with you

Has long since taken off.

Whoever loved or suffered with you

Is busy elsewhere.

The young are here for themselves.

It would be stupid to protest.

Come on with me old fella.

After a hearty breakfast and checking out of the hotel, we received this email:

Somewhat disoriented, but aware of the widespread disorder in this summer’s flight scheduling and especially wary of British Airways’ unreliability, we scrambled to adapt. We were able to secure another night’s stay where we were.  Then we tried to secure seats on the next day’s United flight, having  had the past experience of being bumped from a confirmed reservation without them. By middle afternoon, Jan managed to speak to a United agent who would provide the seat numbers only after payment of a late fee of $450.

Now left with time on our hands but not much enterprise, we walked down the block in the opposite direction from the elegant French bistro toward the tuba sounds coming from  Munich’s largest beer hall and cliche tourist attraction, the Hofbrauhaus. The cavernous dining room was too loud, but we found a table at the small patio in front. There the day’s frustration was dissolved in traditional food and drink and amiable conversation with a young South Korean couple centered on the TV series “The Extraordinary Attorney Wu” and with our waiter, centered on his happy experience in migrating from Albania, settling here and making a family in Munich.

This was to be our last day in Europe before returning to San Luis Obispo.  Jan suggested we spend it at the Bavarian National Museum.  She was motivated by its large collection of  Tilman Riemenschneider woodcarvings, some of which, like the Franz Marc Blaue Reiter, she’d been taken with during her 1965 stay at Stanford in Germany.

We caught the Tram at Mariannenplatz, at first confused by its name’s similarity with Marienplatz, the city’s central square.  Across the street rose St. Lukas, a Lutheran rather than Catholic church, whose combination of Baroque and Art Nouveau styles reminded me of the Prinzregentstheater we were in the previous night.

Getting off at Maximillianstrasse, we waited to cross the street next to a young family in Bavarian garb on a Sunday Spatziergang who allowed me to take their picture.

Before entering the museum we stopped for lunch at its garden cafe.

It was still a long walk to the front entrance of the complex dedicated to the decorative arts and culture of the medieval and early modern periods.

Once inside, we got sidetracked by a labyrinth of exhibits of ivory carving, painted porcelain, filigreed silver and other gewgaws of the super-rich during the 18th and 19th centuries  before we got back on course to the 15th. (more…)

I rented a bike from the shop down the block to explore Munich’s extensive park, the English Garden, located  nearby.  Designed to resemble a natural landscape, its mature forests, wide meadows and rich water features were nevertheless meticulously maintained.

I hadnt ridden a non-electric bike in a couple of years, but the exertion felt good as did traveling the wide paths meant for both walkers and riders.

I came upon the artificial surf break I’d read about, lined on both sides with people and their boards waiting for a shot. None lasted more than a few seconds:

Signs in German and English proclaimed the Germans’ love of nature and their commitment to environmental action, though the translation of Habitat as “Lebensraum” had sinister echoes of the Nazi rationale for invading their neighboring states.

The meadow adorned with wildflowers reinforced the point that lawns are useful for sports but should share space with less artificial landscapes.

I sat on a bench for a while to watch locals enjoying the lake.

Looking for a cup of coffee I exited the park across from a building whose design lured me into its courtyard. It was was the home of “Munich Re,” the worldwide Reinsurance Company that insures other insurance companies for their losses. (more…)

I was longing to visit the Alte Pinakotek ever since I saw its collection mentioned on reproductions of paintings I saw in high school. The austere Renaissance style of the building seemed appropriate to house its  grand collection of  “Old Masters.”

The succession of galleries shrinking to a vanishing point gave an impression of limitless depth.

This portrait greeted us as we got out of the elevator.

We were looking for its most famous treasure, the self portrait of Albrecht Durer which served as the museum’s logo.

The understatement in the caption, “touches most viewers,” gained meaning as I stared.

as it seemed to do for others in the room.

(more…)

Jan proposed that we begin the day with a visit to the special exhibit entitled The Blue Rider: A New Language, at the Lenbach Haus, one of Munich’s modern art museums.

She was drawn by the painting of that name by the early 20th century artist Franz Marc she had encountered during her 1964-5 undergraduate residence at Stanford in Germany.

The exhibit highlighted the work of women artists, who have been previously overlooked. including wives and partners of the the famous innovators like Marc and Kandinsky, Here is one by Gabrielle Munter:

These included a powerful set of prints

The Blaue Reiter itself took prominence.

(more…)

The warm rain upon arrival in Munich didnt deter us from walking to the City Center after checking in at the small Hotel Concorde, located on a quiet street within proximity of major attractions in all directions.

At the Viktuallienmarkt or central farmers’ market (“open every day since 1807”) as the weather cleared, we enjoyed supper from a take-out fish restaurant at a tree-shaded table. It was too late to browse the market’s array of offerings but we could appreciate the 150 foot tall urban version of a traditional maypole.

Looking up, we were drawn by several baroque church steeples outlined against the sky, every  step opening dazzling new perspectives

Rounding a corner a new prospect came in view

and unfolded

(more…)

Next morning, before checking out I tried to cram in an ascent of the Kapuzinersberg. It started in a tunnel through the building to its base

and ascended past walls of the cloister built in 1600

signage about its geological formation

and episodes of its history (more…)

Next morning Jan and I went separate ways, she to the Residence museum a few steps from our lodgings, where the young Mozart and his family lived from 1773 to 1787.

I on a tram to Untersberg, the high peak visible throughout the City.

There I boarded the gondola rising 5000 feet to the summit ridge.

The early ascent offered views of the river valley and mountains containing the City marked by the Hohensalzburg Castle.

To the south unfolded the high Alps

(more…)

Because of  the excitement of first impressions and the discomfort from a cough and sore throat, I couldnt sleep that first night and found some comfort in the crucifix mounted on the wall near the bed.

Breakfast at the seminary was opulent: choices of fresh fruit, yogurts, cereals, eggs, smoked meat, fish, vegetables, breads and pastries and coffees.

The morning was spent browsing  shops, churches and a cemetery nearby. We crossed the river for dinner at an ancient biergarten and then wandered through old-town streets searching for the Residenz, the palace and cathedral complex where we had tickets for a concert. At one of its grand entrances a guard blocked our way because the place was being used for a rehearsal for the bigger concert at the upcoming annual Mozart festival.

Once again Jan’s cane convinced him to conduct us through barriers and arches to the correct location–a small stone floored l-shaped room holding an audience of about 50 people. The two young musicians entered unceremoniously, took up their period instruments and played a sequence of three Mozart Violin sonatas.  Their closeness and the bright acoustics added to the enchantment of the music.

Afterwards, we emerged into the cathedral plaza bustling with natives and tourists out for a summer night stroll.

This Rezidenz housed the single head of church and state, the prince-archbishop, Colloredo who hired Wolfgang as a child prodigy as part of his retinue.  But as a mature and widely recognized genius, Mozart quarreled with his boss and left Salzburg to live in Vienna where he was employed by the Emperor Joseph II, but nevertheless suffered poverty and died a pauper at age 35.