Touring Munich with a Cloud Over My Head

Yesterday morning started like so many weekend mornings here: with a mad rush to the train. At 9:30 we met at the train station (which I may interchangeably call the Bahnhof, it’s gotten to be a habit and it’s less letters to type). Our art teacher (whose name I do know but can’t spell), Griffin, Mulligan, Tiff, Kristen, Lisa, Matt, Natalie (not the German teacher, the other Natalie), and I all made the train. Liz had to meet us in Munich, but I haven’t gotten to that part of the story yet. We split 2 bayern passes, compliments of the program, to go on our art trip. Not a bad deal. Griffin produced the latest issue of Time, which Tiff snatched up before me. I contented myself with studying the genealogy of all the Dukes/Lords of Munich and Kings of Bavaria for a little while, then went to reading over her shoulder. The account of the battle for Fallujah was very well written, but too eerily similar to All Quiet for me. I imagine the author intended it that way, given Time’s slant which even I can’t ignore. It got the desired effect, anyway. I was curious, fascinated, disturbed, and ultimately concerned with our “progress.” But I’m here and it’s there and no amount of frustration, confusion, or any of the other plethoras of emotions that this war is evoking can ultimately make a difference. It’s just something we just have to buckle down and get through.
Even looking back on it brings a little melancholy back into the day. I was in a dark mood after that article, only slightly lightened by the “What’s a Democrat to do” comic on the back page (“Marry into Canada?” and a couple of Bush slams I’ll leave out for my Republican audience). It came on the heels of a heated discussion between our ultra-liberal (and by “ultra-“ I mean making Kerry and Dean look like Laura Bush) Thanksgiving host and Tiff. It was an unpleasant discussion, particularly since I didn’t agree with either side. I don’t know if any of you have ever felt like bonking the heads of every political party, but right now that’s about where I am. Autonomy looks better every day.
Anyway, I’m pulling back toward the present again, which is not the point of this story. Nor are my political views, which have come under constant assault here and are thus defended without even thinking any more. You’re not an attacker (yet), so I’ll try and spare the defense.
It began to flurry as soon as we got off the train, and spent most of the day coming and going. Our art teacher gave us a little walking tour that eventually led to the Modern Art Museum. We poked into the massive white structure, with its surreal brightness that bounces off every wall, floor, and ceiling. The building was built in ’02, so the flat-panel computer screens flashing art exhibit promos behind the counters blended right in. The fresh-clean look fit the mold perfectly, but I wonder what the place is going to be like whenever modern art goes out of style. Our art teacher expressed similar concerns, but that’s just another thing we have to wait for.
Griffin stayed there. Of everyone in our group, he’s the most likely to appreciate it. Several others made comments about polishing up their old bikes, sticking them to a wall, and calling that art too.
The Alte Pinakotheka was much more interesting for the rest of that. It houses art from the end of medieval times up to the beginning of the 20th century. We saw many of the originals we’ve discussed so often in class, including the Bavarian Albrechts (Duerer and Altdorfer), along with Raphaels’ and Rembrants’ (“the Sacrifice of Isaac,” so often seen in fancy KJV’s, in person!). Altdorfer has a modern imitator who has painted a neat little poster of Regensburg that I think I’ll be bringing home. I passed up 50 Euro signed original prints last week and am kicking myself already for doing it. I have to buy something artful to compensate.
That tour lifted my spirits, strange as that may seem. Museums are soothing, and art can be doubly so. All the emotion, the force, and the life of paintings can just suck away the things that haunt one the rest of the time. We’re in a war? There’s one for every generation. At least I’m not drafted, dying of the plague, or starving yet.
The German girl across from us is reading about what countries do and don’t (or at least, should and should not) have the Bomb. Just another reflection of the big black witch looming over our shoulders (Gunter Grass personifies Germany’s post-war guilt as a witch that sulks in the shadows of every mind. Our witch, I believe, is fear).
So the Alte Pinakotheka got me to feeling a little better. Good eats further improved my mood, and by the time we took our walking tour I was feeling great, if a little chilly.
In my pictures you can see the museums built to represent all the different forms of Greek art. Hitler liked to use the area as a parade ground, and his administrative offices and Nazi Headquarters can be seen behind them. The squat, gray buildings are so chillingly imperial, and thankfully dead. Today the pair of massive sarcophagi house works the very artists Hitler and the Nazi’s tried so hard to get rid of.
The walking tour went through several of the beautiful churches in the area: the Frauenkirche, with its twin towers, and a baroque church built as a private chapel next to the architects house. Also the royal Residence, with its gorgeous theatre and many courtyards.
A lot of these things have been restored after the war, which bothers some but it didn’t matter, to us. Some even left their damage as a reminder of the memory.
Of course, it was just a taste of the city, a reminder that even though I’ve been in Regensburg for 3 months now I still haven’t touched the surface of Bavaria. Maybe I’ve been too set on seeing the rest of the world. Anyway, Munich is going to get another visit from me another day, be it on this trip or another.
We ate in the Augustiner Pub, I think is what it was called. Basically just a beer hall, , but that’s most of German dining. It was delicious, anyway. Tiff had a currywurst (a hot dog with curry-ketchup stuff all over it) and I had some kind of Swabian ravioli that was filled with pork, covered in onions and bacon, and bathed in meat sauce. It came with potato salad, too, which was better than most of the stuff I’ve had in the States.
The train ride back was filled with thanksgiving stories about our families and friends. Some might still find it a little tough for some to be here without them, but it’s nice to hear all the stories everyone has.
When I got back to Regensburg I fetched pictures off Matt’s computer then stayed up talking to Lisa for a while. As I said, we’re all getting along, which isn’t always the case with traveling companions. Thank God it has been for us, mostly. We’ve certainly had (and have) our differences, but at least we can get past them. And Giese’s coming over to Murray in February, so I think we’ll all be getting back together to show her our country!
I’m catching my breath now. We just ran from one ICE train to another. This trip is taking a total of 6 trains to get from Regensburg to Triberg. This one’s only a half-hour trip, so I probably shouldn’t get too cozy on here. Little Dell’s a great companion, and filling up the page is always cleansing for the mind, but it can only last for so long, and I have another train to catch.