The art & soul of Munich
Bavaria’s capital has a gallery for all tastes — and the foaming beer’s not bad either
HARRY Kane!’ shouts my delighted driver as we zip past the space doughnut of Bayern Munich’s allianz stadium, where the England captain enjoys hero status.
‘ BMW!’ he announces, as we pass BMW Welt, the car company’s futuristic visitor attraction.
an hour later, I am on medieval Marienplatz watching the little mechanical figures on the famous Neues rathaus clock.
Then, after squeezing into the city’s Lowenbraukeller beer hall on Stiglmaierplatz, I am served by waitresses in dirndl dresses delivering plates of pork knuckle and knodel (boiled dumplings) while ruddyfaced Herrs sink steins of foaming beer.
Munich is both ultra-modern and ultratraditional. That beer is still governed by the reinheitsgebot, the 1516 Bavarian law that guarantees its quality and makes it hard to stick to only one stein.
That might explain some of the wilder artistic visions that have occurred here, like the ornately decorated interiors of f the 18th-century asam church in the old town — a bonkers Bavarian baroque that left me reeling. Likewise, the astonishingly vivid paintings created around Munich in the early 20th century by a group of Expressionist painters, known as the Blue rider, who are presently being rediscovered by the art world.
a major German Expressionist show opens tomorrow at London’s Tate Modern featuring Wassily Kandinsky and Franz Marc. But the movement’s 1911 masterpiece, Marc’s Blue Horse I, never leaves the Lenbachhaus.
This mustard-coloured 1880s villa is one of the major galleries in the Kunstareal art quarter. Given a copper and aluminium extension by Britain’s Norman Foster in 2013, it’s also a great place to explore — one exhibition space is in a converted subway station — and a natural starting point for a city stroll into Schwabing, the bohemian quarter favoured by the Blue rider artists.
WANDERING over Konigsplatz, the ridiculously grand 19th- century square built for King Ludwig I, I come to the Fuhrerbau, the Nazi-era ministry, now a music school, where Neville Chamberlain signed the 1938 Munich agreement.
Hitler, hoping to be an artist, arrived in Munich in 1913. He drank at the SchellingSalon — which I find further along the street — as did Lenin, the playwright Bertolt Brecht and Kandinsky. Today the locals are happy to point out the urinal, unchanged since 1913.
In fact, the locals are happy about most things, convinced as they are that this is the best place to live in Germany. Looking at the alps from the roof of the legendary Bayerischer Hof Hotel, I am inclined to agree. The Bayerischer was destroyed by the raF in 1944 then rebuilt.
Miraculously, the stucco 1839 Falk’s bar survived the allied bombs. Not all is as it was before 1944, though. a rooftop pool means I can swim while watching sunset turn the onion- domed towers of the 15th-century Frauenkirche yellow.
Inspiration, perhaps, for the Blue rider — but the Nazis declared the throbbing colours of Marc and co degenerate, and hundreds of their works were hidden by Kandinsky’s lover (a painter herself) Gabriele Munter, at the cottage they sharedhdiin theth townt offMMurnau. ItItiis now a museum, restored to how it would have been when Munter and Kandinsky looked across the valley to the white-washed 16th-century castle that now houses the Schlossmuseum, a gallery with more than 80 works by Munter.
Sixteen kilometres to the east, Franz Marc has his own museum at Kochel. The art is great but the view of Mount Herzogstand peering over the pristine, icy waters of Kochelsee lake is astonishing.
In summer you can hike to the peak of Herzogstand yourself, after taking the cable car from nearby Walchensee.
I opt for a walk to the Schmied von Kochel inn, a Hansel and Gretel-esque establishment. as I watch the clientele work their way through fresh trout from the lake, one more contented Bavarian smiles at me over his stein. ‘are you English?’ yes. ‘Harry Kane!’