Quadsville

All joking aside, I am taking a break this week from scrutinizing U.S. politics to take a closer look at Austria's "Spitzenkandidaten," the people at the head of each party's ticket.

On Monday, I attended press conferences held by the Social Democrats (SPÖ - more liberal) and the People's Party (ÖVP - more conservative). Werner Faymann is the SPÖ candidate and Wilhelm Molterer is the current vice chancellor and top man for the ÖVP. These are the two largest parties in Austria and it is their "grand coalition" that fell apart in early July when the ÖVP quit the government, necessitating these early elections.

At least in the parliamentary system they can call a snap election if the two main parties find it impossible to work together. In the U.S., we are stuck in gridlock for at least two, if not four, years at a time. But calling an election doesn't automatically mean change. Neither the ÖVP or SPÖ will get the majority of votes needed to control the government, so they will have to build a coalition. And if they cannot build a large enough coalition with one or two of the minor parties, they may have to go back to being in a coalition together.

What strikes me about both Faymann and Molterer is that they are so unlike American candidates. They are both on the short side. Neither has what we would call the star quality, in my opinion. It also dawned on me the other night when I watched a debate among five of the candidates that two of the men (Molterer and Alexander van der Bellen, head of the Green Party) sport scruffy beards. That is to say, they are not full beards, but that sort of well-maintained 3-days' growth. I am wracking my brain to think of an American politician that is not clean shaven. If a U.S. politician has a mustache or something, it is a fully-developed one. It seems like a silly difference, I know, but it's notable.

A word on the minor parties...

In Austria, if you don't like the way your team is playing, you can take your ball and go home. Or rather, you can take the people who agree with you and start your own party. Jörg Haider was a leader of the Freedom Party (FPÖ) for many years, but broke away in 2005 and started another party, the Alliance for the Future of Austria (BZÖ). Haider is on the ticket for BZÖ in this election and his former protegee now nemesis, Heinz-Christian Strache, is the FPÖ's poster boy. There's also Heide Schmidt who broke from the Haider-controlled FPÖ in the mid-90s and started the Liberal Forum (LIF). This makes TV debates very interesting.

Here are photos of the candidates:

Werner Faymann, Wilhelm Molterer, Jörg Haider 

Alexander van der Bellen, Heide Schmidt, H-C Strache 

And does CNN sports in the states cover sailing so extensively? I swear there is at least an hour of sailing coverage a day. I'm sure they don't cover soccer to the level I see here.

And did you know that "The Daily Show with Jon Stewart" does a Global Edition that is shown weekly on CNN here? Of course, there is a disclaimer that it is not real news. Jon does a special monologue for this edition and the rest is a best-of from that week's shows, mostly pertaining to U.S. politics and other stories with global reach. I caught it Sunday morning and it gave me some good laughs after waking up to the awful news of the hotel bombing in Islamabad. 

There are definitely fewer pundits on CNN on this side of the Atlantic and lots more world news. One of the Austrian fellows in the exchange program is stationed at CNN Atlanta. Flo - if you are reading this, can you give some insight into the differences?  

Saturday evening I saw the Burgtheater's production of Hamlet in the small, black box space in the Kasino on Schwarzenbergerplatz. Performed in the round (or in the square, rather), the cast consisted of only three players, all men. They were dressed in modern street clothes. One man was youngish -- 30s, another was probably not that much older but his shaved head and strong stage presence reminded me of Patrick Stewart. The final castmember was white-haired, probably in his 60s.

They portrayed all the roles, except when they handed the script to an audience member to read a few lines as messenger or some other minor character. But they did not always play the same roles. Each actor played Hamlet at some point in the performance. Queen Gertrude also changed countenance several times and King-Uncle Claudius, too. The only props/set pieces were three chairs, the same type of chair we were all sitting in. In fact, the three actors emerged from the front row and returned to those seats when not in a scene throughout the production. Two hours. No intermission.

I thoroughly enjoyed the show, especially as it was performed in such intimate quarters with full lights on the 15'x15' playing space and audience. The adaptation of the script, which was not just translated into German, but trimmed, and in some cases reordered, was clever, keeping all the dramatic tension between main characters, doing away with minor characters, and preserving all the famous speeches. Well, all but one. I did miss Hamlet's speech to the players, but the scene in which the traveling theater troupe performed for the king and queen made up for that.

That part of the performance was sung, like a chant, in multiple parts with glorious harmonies and impressive falsetto. The use of tuning forks, not just to give a starting pitch but to accompany the melody when struck methodically on the knee and then held to the hollow stair steps, was brilliant.

Tonight I plan to see "A Midsummer Night's Dream." This will be performed at the actual Burgtheater, I imagine in a more traditional space, but we'll see.

I hear things are quite soggy in Quadsville. They are in Austria, too. It is currently raining (I don't think it's stopped for more than 5 minutes in the last 36 hours) and about 45 degrees. Brr. I did not pack for this! This unusual cold snap should pass by Thursday. But farmers here are fretting just like farmers back home. The grape harvest did not need the cold or the moisture.

Despite the cold, wet weather, I enjoyed my trip this weekend to Salzburg. I may have been the only American in town who did not go on the "Sound of Music" tour (my apologies to all you Julie Andrews devotees), which is offered only in English because the European tourists don't know what the heck it is. But I did go to an exhibit at the modern art museum called "The Sound of Art."

A belly full of breakfast and a beautiful view. 

Museum der Moderne Salzburg is built into the side of the Mönchsberg, a smallish mountain. From its cafe terrace, you can look out over the river and domes of the old city and see the fortress high on the Festungsberg. On Saturday morning, I had a scrumptuous breakfast of fresh berries and yogurt, rolls and jam, coffee and orange juice on the terrace with my colleague Elisabeth from the Kuratorium für Journalistenausbildung (the Austrian organization sponsoring my fellowship). It was chilly and the wind picked up shortly after we sat down, but the cafe provides warm, colorful blankets, so we were fairly comfortable.

The exhibit, spread over four floors, was loud and interactive, offering plenty of things for kids and adults to play with. The first cacaphonic piece was an installation by Günther Uecker called "Terrororchester" (Terror Orchestra - not that hard to translate). By pressing various footpedals, museum visitors can activate sirens, sledghammers, motors, and other deafening machines whose sounds we often block out as we walk down a street or sit in our homes and offices. This piece is so loud you can hear it throughout the museum, which is also part of the thrill of operating it.

In addition to making a racket, I also got to create my own music box melody with a strip of paper and mini hole punch, walk inside a room in which all surfaces were papered with Beethoven scores, and watch a video of a women playing her arm with a copper bow. Copper being a fantastic conductor, the bow, when connected to a certain apparatus, amplifies the body's electric currents.

T he Festung (Fortress).

After a belly-warming lunch of Kürbisstrudel (savory pumpkin strudel in sauce with potatoes), I hiked up to the Festung Hohensalzburg and toured through the layers of the fortress that was the dwelling of Salzburg's prince-archbishops from 1077 until the Hapsburg dynasty came to power in the 19th century. That evening, I took a quick jaunt to the lakes just outside Salzburg with another colleague, Waltraud. Her beautiful home in Salzburger Seenland looks out over two lakes and the mountains - a truly stunning view.

After dinner, we went to Hotel Stein for a drink in the Steinterrasse, a trendy rooftop bar and lounge that puts you on the same level as Salzburg's lighted domes at night. I had my first Aperol-Spritzer, an Austrian variation on an Italian drink that has been popular with the hip crowd for a few years (or so they tell me). It is tart but refreshing, a mix of Aperol (a liqueur like Campari), white wine and soda served with an orange slice.

Sunday started with a cold walk in the rain from my hotel into the old city. I quickly warmed up at Republic, another hip cafe and nightspot. Their "Pop-the-Jazz" brunch featured a trio of German musicians putting a folk spin on American pop music with guitar, keyboard and violin. They did some Clapton, some Billy Joel, some Carol King, even a cover of Metallica's "Nothing Else Matters" (though I would say in the style of Tori Amos or Dar Williams).

Here is one of Hellbrunn's trick fountains. The Archbishop would host guests here at this table, with bottles of wine on ice in the center. When it was time for the guests to go, on came the fountain spigot in and behind each chair... except for the archbishop's. 

A trip to Hellbrunn in the afternoon to see the Wasserspiele, or trick fountains, was well worth it, even though I didn't need to get any wetter. The mischievous gardens were built by Archbishop Markus Sittikus von Hohenems and the hydraulics still function nearly 400 years later. (photos and videos coming soon!)

All in all, it was a terrific weekend. The only things that would have made it better are a warm coat and scarf!

Tourists take in the Mirabell Gardens on a rainy Sunday in Salzburg. 

Last Friday evening, I decided to head down to the Rathaus for the free outdoor film fest. On the way, I stopped at a little pizza stand by one of the main bus stops on the Ring near Parliament. I took my slice over to the little park next to Parliament and as twilight crept over Vienna, I nibbled on the cheesey crust and enjoyed the peace of the gardens.

And then, out of the corner of my eye, movement. A little scurrying creature zipped over the pavement from a bench to a plot of roses. "Aw, a chipmunk," I thought to myself, although it looked a little large for a chipmunk. It was more squirrel-sized, but without the bushy tail.

Zip. Another one. But this time I got a better look as it nosed around under the trash bin to my right. This was no ground squirrel. It was a rat.

Outside pet stores and zoos, I've not seen a rat up close. It didn't creep me out any more than a squirrel would. It wasn't ugly. I sat for awhile and watched the pair of rodents looking for supper before tossing my last bite of crust on the ground and my paper plate in the garbage bin.

Down at the Rathaus the stands were packed. I ordered a glass of Sturm, which is in season right now in Austria. It is fermenting grape juice in which the yeast is still active. It has a high sugar and alcohol content, so it can go to your head quickly if you don't watch it. You can only get it for a few weeks each year during the wine harvest. It can't be preserved. Quite tasty.

Anyway, as I made my way to my seat, glass in hand, I had to marvel at the lack of plastic involved in this outdoor fest. All the food booths in Rathaus Park serve food on ceramic plates. The drinks are served in real glasses. No paper plates and plastic cups here. And the crowd and area is comparable in size to a festival in The District of Rock Island. Would this be possible in the States?

(I will post photos with this soon. Haven't dumped my camera lately.)

"Derek Jarman: Brutal Beauty" and "Punk: No One is Innocent" (especially not after viewing the exhibit) take the viewer to London, New York and Berlin during the 1970s when the punk movement defined fashion, attitude, and artistic expression and when genders were being flagrantly bent.

Let's start with Jarman. You may have seen some of his Super-8 video work if you are familiar with the music videos for The Smiths' "The Queen is Dead" and The Pet Shop Boys' "It's a Sin." He also directed some interesting takes on Shakespeare ("The Tempest") and Christopher Marlowe ("Edward II"). While gay themes and the horror of AIDS are often explored in his work, and graphically so, I don't find that disturbing like I do the mix of sex and violence explored in the Punk exhibit. But we'll get to that later.

The Jarman exhibit began with a film about his life, "Derek" directed by Isaac Julien and narrated by actress Tilda Swinton. It was shown on a large screen in surround sound with several large bean bags for viewers to sit on. In the next room, were a dozen or so screens of varying sizes, all showing different Super-8 films by Jarman. Since Super-8 is a silent medium, this works out well. Again, the bean bag chairs for comfortable viewing, and some paintings by Jarman were displayed in the corners of the room.

The third room contained more of his paintings and mixed media work, mostly late life works when his art was primarily a response to his battle with AIDS. In the final room, his film "Blue" was projected on a big screen. In it, Jarman describes his life and artistic vision at a time when he was blind and dying of AIDS-related complications. The visuals: a single screen shot of vibrant, saturated blue for the entire 55 minutes. The script was also published as a book.

I do see a truth and a beauty in Jarman's art. I had a harder time wrapping my mind around the punk movement as anything but reactionary, using vulgarity primarily for shock value. OK, I take that back. I like some of the music, some of the fashion and some of the art. But the main focus of the exhibit, as far as I could tell, was on extreme sex and violence as the defining qualities of punk.

If the Richard Kern film "Fingered" truly captures the Zeitgeist of the era, I'm glad I was but a wee babe then and so blissfully unaware of it. But, of course, I was raised in rural Illinois, not London or New York or Berlin, so chances are I could have still avoided it entirely had I been of sentient age.

Of particular interest to me is the neo-Punk movement that seems to be afoot here in Vienna (and probably other major international cities). There were several young people taking in the exhibit that also could have been part of it. In a loft area above the main exhibit was a smaller exhibit on the (original) punk scene in Vienna, which had been vandalized by someone who changed all the past tenses to present tenses in the placards explaining the exhibit. "F-- you! I AM a punk!" was scrawled on one piece of signage.

Maybe someone can explain to me why nihilism is attractive.

Lowe said he took a lot of grief for this cartoon. He also told us he was not allowed to draw an anti-Bush cartoon for six months after 9/11. In November 2001 he brought a sketch to his editor and was told, "It's not time yet."

This final cartoon below made me laugh. I'm sure other folks back in Iowa can relate, too.  

“This hunger strike is our last resort,” said Tseten Zöchbauer, 50, president of the Tibetan Community in Austria.

From Aug. 21 to 31, Zöchbauer and Jamyang, 25, a Tibetan exile, led a hunger strike from a tent in Schwedenplatz to raise awareness of the plight of Tibetans persecuted and imprisoned by the Chinese government.

"I drink only water, and in the morning I drink I little tea,” Jamyang said. “But we cannot eat."

The group has three demands of world governments: Station an international human rights commission in Tibet; appoint a mediator who can achieve serious results in the negotiations between the Dalai Lama and the Chinese government; and limit the immigration of Han-Chinese into Tibet.

Austrian Secretary of State Hans Winkler met with the hunger strikers last week. Zöchbauer asked why Austria and other nations couldn’t inflict economic sanctions on China if improvements in human rights are not met.

“He got very silent when I asked him that,” Zöchbauer said.

Lying on a cot, body and voice weakened by more than a week of fasting, she lamented that foreign governments, although supportive of Tibet’s cause, “weren't able to change anything these 50 years."

Zöchbauer claims Tibetans arrested after the March 14th anti-China protests in Llasa are being held in work camps until their families can pay police a ransom of about 3000 Yen (about $500). It would take an average Tibetan family two years to save that amount, she said, adding that Tibetans are prohibited from exchanging foreign currency, so sympathizers abroad cannot help them.

"What we hear from friends and family are, 'Don't let us down.' They are very afraid China will punish them for all the protests around the Olympics,” said Zöchbauer.

There are about 300 Tibetans living in Austria, the vast majority of whom are young adults who have arrived in the last two years and are still in the asylum process.

Zöchbauer hopes the hunger strike, which culminated in a 12-hour world-wide fast and prayer service on Saturday, emphasized the urgency of the Tibetan situation.

“It should wake people up that people are starving for something," Zöchbauer said.

(A shorter version of this story was published in German in Der Standard on Sept. 1, 2008.)

"What do you think that is?" my companion asks me.

I shrug and we walk on. 

The music becomes louder. Violins, tympany, horns ... and then we see it, written in flames over the street: MAHLER. The name of the famous Austrian composer is literally burning in mid-air.

The music rises to a crescendo as we walk underneath the flaming sign. We still can't tell where the music is coming from, but it feels like it is surrounding us, as if the air and the music are one in the same. The dramatic minor chords are deafening, rattling our insides. All we can do is smile and let the music fill   us. 

Still have no idea what we walked through, but what an experience! My only regret is that I was so stunned by it all that I did not even think to take out my camera and make a video.