Scenes of Vienna

This month is all about the uncanny grotesque with an unforgetable aftertaste. Marilyn Manson is surfing on still waters, unlike in the past, for his launch of “Mansinthe,” his own brand of absinthe, received mixed reviews ranging from critics who compared the drink’s odor to sewage water and described the taste as being “as bad as piss.” However, when it comes to his art, urine and the scent of sewage come in handy.

 

Genealogies of Pain (Jun. 30 - Jul. 25)

Due to poor planning, I’ve been unable to venture to the Vienna Woods in search of what I hoped would be the subject of this month’s column. I’d been aiming to catch a glimpse of the handsome – but shy and solitary – black stork; a considerably less gregarious bird than its white relative.

Living mostly undisturbed among old stands of oak and beech in the central and south-western parts of the Wienerwald, the black stork is thriving. There are reckoned to be between 10 and 20 breeding pairs in the area. 

Another drop on my window and I will freak out. In Vienna, it has been raining for almost a month without a break. Okay, we did have some sunny days, sparks of hope that the summer has truly come. Nevertheless, the very next day the sky would open its wide mouth again and spill oceans of water onto our weary world. No bicycles, no runners, no couples on benches or poets wandering the town in search of inspiration.

Hard to imagine a better setting for a good night than summer, sun and jazz on a boat trip up the canal. Did it go as I had hoped? Not quite…

We embarked on the MS Schlögen, a bit raggedy, but charming-looking typical canal boat, where we were greeted by Werner Christen, the prime organizer of this and many other classic-jazz events in and around Vienna.

I’m walking in the manicured grounds of Schönbrunn with Thomas Bugnyar, Professor of Cognitive Ethology at the University of Vienna. It’s late afternoon; heavy thunderclouds have dispersed and a monsoon-like downpour has just rained itself out. Moments ago, shrieking schoolchildren ran for cover and mothers desperately shielded babies and toddlers with umbrellas too small for the job. Now though, the wet lawns and paths are beginning to steam under a hot May sun, and a pale woman uses an umbrella to shield herself from its rays.

I’m in the March-Thaya wetlands on the Austro-Slovakian border. It’s the closest thing to the Heart of Borneo that I’m likely to find in Central Europe – and not just because of the giant mosquitoes that are treating me like a walking lunch buffet. These verdant swamp lands constitute arguably Austria’s most valuable and underappreciated nursery for biodiversity. And that’s why I’m at the foot of a white tree, a full 20 meters tall, looking up at a tangled-nest the size of a living-room sofa.

Walking up Mariahilfestrasse from the Museumsquartier the other day, the aromas from the nearby bakeries flooded my senses, tickling my nose and teasing my taste buds. My mouth began to water, my stomach to growl in complaint. Croissants! You’ve likely been in Vienna long enough not to be bothered by this smell anymore; I’ve just arrived, and I’m helpless. But then again, for me this is a love of long standing.

It’s Sunday and the sun is shining as I wait for my companions at the Heiligenstadt station. Football fans (that is, American football, not real football) sporting purple and yellow articles of clothing are all around; women, men, tall, fat, tattooed and hippified. Every sort imaginable is there, joining together to celebrate the fun of the rough-and-tumble sport.

Austrian films have been garnering both critical attention and prizes in recent years. In honor of the Wien Museum's new exhibition, Vienna in Film, we choose our top-10 capital film moments. If you'd like to get a taste of how the city looks on celluloid, there is a splendid compilation of clips ('Shot in Vienna') on the Film Commission's website.

So what were our criteria? Intelligence, fresh perspectives, capturing the city's spirit and, of course, a good watch. Films that are curious about details of city life and bring a distinctive vision. Only half the films we've chosen were made by Austrians. But see these ten and you'll have a deeper understanding of what makes Vienna special.

It’s approaching 7:30 p.m. as I walk through the Stadtpark, one of Vienna’s most central oases, cocooned by busy roads, hotels, apartments and city life. The sky is a glowering grey-white and it’s raining heavily. Occasional businessmen scurry past under umbrellas, homeward-bound. One holds a newspaper awkwardly above his head in a semi-successful attempt to remain dry.