Going for gold
Kate Wickers enjoys a Viennese slice of art and opulence, as she sets off in search of Gustav Klimt
There’s a cheery shout of “Wilkommen!” from a waiter as I walk into Café Central, a popular meeting place for intellectuals and artists back in the early 1900s. A regular haunt of the artist Gustav Klimt, the man at the heart of my trip, it’s fun to imagine him here — although in truth, it’s the buttery apfelstrudel with whipped cream that has my full attention. I enjoy it while listening to a pianist play a rousing round of Mozart’s sonatas and waltzes. Oh, where else could I be than Vienna?
I first glimpsed Klimt’s most famous work, The Kiss, while studying A-Level art aged 16, later buying a poster of it from Athena which accompanied me as I moved from bedsit to flat to shared house, got ripped twice, upgraded to a plastic frame and then to a wooden frame with flecks of gold to hang above the bed in my new marital home.
When the pandemic hit, I kicked myself that after all these years, I’d never been to see the original and promised myself I’d go to Vienna as soon as I was able. Travel restrictions finally permitting, it’s time to fulfil that promise — in style. I’m upon the White Angel Apothecary, staying at Palais Hansen Kempinski, guarded by two mosaic angels. a fusion of four historic buildings In a city that groans with impressive which opened as a hotel just ten buildings such as the vast years ago. The first thing I clock is Hofburg (the seat of Austrian the width of the corridors, wide power since the 13th century), enough for ladies in ballgowns to and the Neo-Classical Staatsoper pass each other I suspect (in normal (state opera), the delicate, decorative times more than 400 balls are hosted touches of the avant-garde in the city each year). Jugendstil movement led by Klimt
But then everything in Vienna are a breath of fresh air. is on the grandest scale, including I head to the Leopold Museum my suite with its high ceilings, for a lesson in Jugendstil, a journey large windows and luxurious Art Deco feel. Perhaps later I’ll sit at the curved mahogany desk to pen a letter or soak in my vast bathtub while gazing at the swirling Jugendstil (the Viennese counterpart of Art Nouveau) designs which are replicated on the bathroom doors.
The public areas are swish too, with a vast salon where waiters scurry ferrying afternoon tea to well-heeled ladies, while in the lobby, I discover a door to Krigler, a bijou perfumery established in 1904, where I’m invited to try their new perfume, Monarchie 218. I head out to explore smelling like Viennese royalty.
Full of pomp and exquisite elegance, the city’s Baroque architecture dates from the days when Vienna was at the centre of a mighty empire. I keep my guidebook shut to start as I wander through the city’s Unesco heritage centre, turning my gaze upwards so not to miss any of the grandiose facades, and am soon rewarded as I stumble that encompasses painting, arts and crafts, and furniture, from the movement’s beginnings in the early 20th century. In addition to Klimt, it’s pieces by other artists, including glass designed by Koloman Moser, that also turn my head.
Eating cake is a time-honoured tradition in Vienna, and with so many historic cafes to explore, no excuse is needed for sampling several in one day. Sacher Hotel, where the rich and well-to-do once conducted their extramarital affairs, is where Sacher Torte — that rich chocolate sponge sandwiched with a tart apricot jam — was dreamed up in 1832.
I tuck into a slice in Eck, the hotel’s stylish café, gathering the energy to scale the towers of the Stephansdom cathedral, only to discover a lift to transport me to the top for a bird’s eye view of the famous 230,000 glazed tile roof depicting Vienna and Austria’s coats of arms. The geometric design
in yellow, green, black, and blue was created in 1950 after a fire devastated the original and provides a striking contrast to the cathedral’s dark gothic, candle-lit, interior.
Back on the ground, I hope to catch a glimpse of Vienna’s famous white Lipizzaner horses, which perform at the Spanish Riding School founded in 1572. I’ve had a tip-off that you can peer into their impossibly posh stables from Augustinerstrasse, where I find them draped in warm blankets enjoying a lunch of fine golden hay. Opposite here is the Prunksaal (State Hall), which houses Europe’s largest Baroque library. The collection of more the 200,000 books is displayed on ornate walnut bookcases beneath a lavishly frescoed domed ceiling. Look for the secret doors cleverly hidden within the shelves that lead to more book-filled chambers, and the enormous globes made by notable 17th century cartographers. Then I’m back on the Klimt Trail, tracking him down between the Rubens and the Picassos at the Albertina, where it’s a collection of his drawings that are the highlight.
The heart of Vienna’s Jewish Quarter is Judenplatz, known affectionately as Matzo Island and surrounded by attractive shops and restaurants, including Alef Alef, famous for its kosher wiener schnitzel. The elegant Biedermeier-style Stadttempel is the only synagogue in Vienna to have survived the Holocaust and was home to the original Jewish Museum, which has since moved to two nearby locations. Of these, in the 17th century Misrachi-Haus, you’ll find a monument to the Austrian Holocaust victims by Rachel Whiteread, along with an exhibition on the pogrom of 1421. At the second site — Museum Dorotheergasse — a new exhibition charting the history of the Rothschilds in Vienna runs until the beginning of June, starting from the arrival of Salomon von Rothschild in the early 19th century.
You can step inside the former home of another of Vienna’s famous Jewish residents, Sigmund Freud, the father of psychoanalysis, who lived here for more than 50 years. His home and practice rooms at Berggasse 19, where modern concepts such as the ego and subconscious evolved, are now a museum.
Don’t go expecting a period recreation as the house is left quite spartan, although do look for his leather doctor’s bag and original mirror that hung in his consulting room. The lack of furniture is a deliberate reminder of all that Jewish families lost during the war. Instead of the carpet that hung on the wall behind Freud’s famous couch (both now housed in the Freud Museum in London), you’ll find the holes left by the nails Freud used to secure it to the wall.
While hints are given from photographs, imagination is key. The recently opened special exhibition, Organized Escape: Survival in Exile, charts the fate of Freud and his practising Jewish contemporaries who were forced to flee Vienna.
I return to my Klimt-hunting once again, venturing a little out of the historic centre to the Wiener Secession; built by the Jugendstil artists as a showcase for the movement, it’s emblazoned with the motto, “To every age its art, to art its freedom.” While you can’t miss its dazzling golden dome of gilded laurel leaves, be sure to walk around the entire exterior to view Moser’s whimsical owl reliefs. Inside, you’ll discover Klimt’s 110-foot-long Beethoven Frieze, which you’re invited to explore while listening to Beethoven’s ninth symphony, the music that inspired the work.
From here, it’s a short walk through the Naschmarkt, Vienna’s buzziest market, to the Wagner Apartments, or Linke Wienzeile. Designed by architect Otto Wagner in 1899, another of the movement’s leading proponents, the dazzling exterior is painted with pink and blue floral motifs and leafy green vines.
But I save the best until last. Of all Jugendstil art, The Kiss is easily the most famous work, created during what is known as Klimt’s Golden Period. Housed in The Belvedere, I take a breath before entering the gallery hall to view it, finally laying eyes on the original more than three decades after I bought that first poster to hang on my bedsit wall.
There’s a saying in Austria, “Anyone who keeps the ability to see beauty never grows old,” and as I gaze at this large canvas, more like a tapestry than an oil painting, depicting two lovers entwined, I am 20 once more.