Concert Etiquette at the Musikverein

The Musikverein is Vienna’s famous concert hall. Each day from September to June, the venue hosts four to six concerts by top musicians from all over the world. Danish architect Theophil Hansen designed the building in the Neoclassical style of an ancient Greek temple, intending it to be a temple of music. Within the Musikverein are the Golden Hall for large concerts, the Brahms Hall for chamber music, and two newer halls in the basement for contemporary music. The Golden Hall was built in 1870 and is considered one of the greatest concert venues in the world. To achieve the outstanding acoustics, Hansen created resonance spaces throughout the hall. All of the ornamentation and pillars are hollow, and there’s a large empty room beneath the hall that makes the wooden floor responsive to the sound.

Just like the Vienna State Opera, the Musikverein offers standing-area tickets for 5 euros ($6.87), which are available one hour before the performances. I line up for concerts about three times a week. My favorites so far have been pianist Mitsuko Uchida, cellist Sol Gabetta and the Basel Chamber Orchestra, flutist Maria Fedotova, the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra performing Romeo and Juliet by Sergei Prokofiev, and violinist Hilary Hahn performing a Brahms concerto (which is fitting since Brahms was the musical director of the Musikverein from 1872 to 1875).

So what’s it like standing through concerts? Once you get your ticket, you wait about 15-30 minutes to be herded upstairs by the ushers. Then you wait again for the doors to open, at which point there is a buzzer—yes, a buzzer—that signals you to dash for the rail at the front, where you can mark your spot with a scarf. You don’t want to end up staring at a column or at some tall person’s head. Being at the rail helps because it gives you something to lean on. There’s always a bouncer (if a classical music hall can be said to have a bouncer) who keeps order and watches to be sure the standers don’t do something dumb, like take videos. During the actual performance, no one chews gum, which leaves me skipping for joy because gum chewing is my most passionate pet peeve. The most comical bit of etiquette is the coughing—concert attendees seriously don’t cough until an interlude. Every time Mistuko Uchida reached the end of a movement, it sounded like the hall was dying of tuberculosis.

I was excited to see Uchida play on Monday after learning that Alan, my pianist friend, had named his car after her. She’s a big deal. She was awarded Dame Commander of the Order of the British Empire by the queen in 2009, making her the first dame I’ve seen in real life. You lose yourself in her playing. You’d almost believe she was making it up on the spot—it all sounds so natural and present. She played an hour and a half of Beethoven like it was nothing.

The Great Hall of the Musikverein is, according to my friend Alan, “a giant shoebox covered in gold leaf.” For a shoebox, it serves quite well as a concert hall.

This evening I went to see Kammerorchester Basel with cello soloist Sol Gabetta. The ensemble uses period instruments, something I’ve always wanted to see and hear. As for Sol Gabetta, I am speechless. All my life I hope to collect moments of true beauty, and tonight was one of those.

Composer of the day: Johann Fux

As the son of a peasant family, Johann Joseph Fux (1660-1741) came from humble beginnings. He was given music lessons, however, and eventually attended a Jesuit university. With his talent, he worked his way up to the status of court composer for Leopold I in 1698. He also served the next two Habsburg emperors: Joseph I and Charles VI. His counterpoint technique was highly regarded and was studied by future composers Haydn, young Beethoven, and Mozart. The work of Fux marks the end of the Baroque period in Austria. He remained a famous composer until his style went out of fashion.

Vienna State Opera: Salome

There aren’t many places in the world where people line up three hours before an opera to get standing tickets to the performance. At the Vienna State Opera last Monday, I joined over five hundred people who were doing just that for Strauss’ Salome. The opera is an adaptation of Oscar Wilde’s play Salome, which he published in French in 1891. In the story (which is based on the biblical text), Salome falls in love with John the Baptist and tries to seduce him using a series of fun pick-up lines, like “I am amorous of thy body! Thy body is white like the snows that lie on the mountains, like the snows that lie on the mountains of Judaea, and come down into the valleys.” He then curses her in colorful language: “Daughter of Sodom, come not near me! But cover thy face with a veil, and scatter ashes upon thine head, and get thee to the desert.” Not liking the brush off from John, she seeks revenge. She performs the dance of the seven veils for her stepfather Herod, who offers her anything she wants as a reward. She demands the head of John the Baptist on a silver plate, which a protesting Herod grants her. At the twisted climax of the play, she professes her love for John and kisses the severed head. It’s your average girl-meets-boy-and-has-him-killed love story.

When it comes to opera singers, I never know what to say, other than, “Wow, that was really amazing. That was just…wow, really amazing.” Not being a singer, I have no idea how they do what they do, so I don’t have an informed opinion of their performances. But I can say a word or two about the costumes! I loved the design of the play. It drew inspiration from a famous Viennese painter—Gustav Klimt. Around 1898, he started incorporating gold leaf into his works (his “Golden Phase” paintings). The use of Klimt’s artistic ideas gave the opera a dreamy, painting-like quality.
I also thought one of Salome’s costumes was drawn from an image of her by Aubrey Beardsley, the artist who worked closely with Wilde on the play’s illustrations. When I was at Oxford, I attended a lecture about Salome as the beloved femme fatal in fin de siècle art, with an emphasis on Beardsley. Wondering if Beardsley inspired the costume, I bought a program for the Opera a few days after the show, and there it was—Beardsley’s illustration of Salome. It’s nice to remember things from college every once in a while. It proves you really learned something.

During a tour of the opera house, I learned that five bombs landed on it in World War II. The building was reconstructed after the war, but I think 20 percent of it is original. I also learned that I owe my cheap ticket to the Austrian government, which covers 60 percent of the operating costs of the opera. One funny thing is that people were highly critical of the building when it was constructed in 1861-1869. They thought it was ugly, which is unimaginable to me (since lavish opera houses are something of a novelty to a small-town Minnesota girl). Eduard van der Nüll, one of the architects, actually committed suicide because of the negative reviews his design received. Poor guy. Well, I’ll be back for more opera a bunch this year.

Composer of the day: Johann Heinrich Schmelzer

First on my chronological list of Viennese composers is this man of mystery. He was definitely born and more than certainly died, but we don’t know exactly when. Wikipedia says he lived somewhere between 1620-1623 and February-March 1680, putting in the Baroque era. After arriving in Vienna in the 1630s, he was a composer and musician at the Hapsburg court until dying of plague (a popular way of kicking the bucket in those days). Not much is known about his life, except that Emperor Leopold I was a fan of his and made him Kapellmeister (which means something like “master of music making”). I’ve been listening to his chamber works while working this morning. I wish I knew more about the violin. Apparently he made great contributions to violin technique, which set him apart since Italians had the monopoly on violin playing in his day. If you’re in a Baroque mood, have a listen.

My plan

I quickly realized I needed a plan—a system. I needed some method for tackling the city. As I mused, I decided to break it into categories. Classical concerts. Operas. Theater. Art exhibitions. Tours. Dance performances. Culturally interactive events (i.e., going out and doing stuff with people). Misc.

This city has a long-standing tradition of standing tickets, meaning that if you are willing to wait in line a few hours for a ticket and then willing to stand through the performance, you can get a great vantage point for pittance. The operas and classical concerts offer these. Bonus: I can work in line using my nifty Surface tablet. I’ve therefore determined see at least one performance with a standing ticket each week, preferably two. Then there are the pricier performances like dance events. I’m finding these irresistible–dance is one of my favorite things. So I’ll throw in some full-priced events too.

But I need to learn about Vienna too. There are cheap tours in the city, and there are more expensive tours that are longer and go more places. There are also tours of buildings like the States Opera. I will therefore do at least one tour a week in the city and add in an expensive tour when feel like seeing more.

Now the plan is taking shape. I’ve got the categories, so all I have to do is fill in the blank. One tour a week? Ok, which tour? Then go do it. Easy peasy.    

But I also want to research. My knowledge of European history is very basic. I bought a 500+ page Kindle book about the history of Austria, and I’ve got nine months here to get to the end. But there’s more specific history–this is a famous music city. I’ve decided to track down the famous Viennese composers, starting with the Baroque. I have a list. So I’ll go take a picture of where they lived (if it’s still around) or go here a performance of their work (if one is available) or just look up their biographical information and a YouTube video. For my own musical endeavors, I’ve never really worked on Mozart. Time to fix that, so “Concerto in G” here I come (every flute player ever has to do “Concerto in G” at some point).

Museums! Heavens there are a lot, but a lot has happened here. I’ll have to hit one of those every week until I run out.

My other projects: I’ll probably take some dance classes. I found a yoga course I like. Hebi and I are going to start running every morning to see if I can tire her out (she highly doubts it). And I’ve decided to cook my way through all the recipes in the book Thrive by Brendan Brazier.

So there. I have a plan for nine months in Vienna. 

Finally touring

After three weeks in the apartment, it seemed I was going to be the girl who moved to Vienna and did nothing. The one who cooked, cleaned, did laundry, worked, walked the dog, and never left the apartment because it was cold and slippery and she had too many other things to do. But then the weather warmed up, the snow melted, and Alicia’s friends Mara, Reinhardt, and Gerard took me on an introductory tour of city center. Suddenly Vienna felt more real to me. Before, it was kind of overwhelming. Vienna is big, it’s old, and it’s active. Not knowing where to start, I didn’t. I stayed in the apartment and got myself settled in instead. That’s why its nice to have friends–they got me out the door and off to see the sites. Vienna was originally a big ring, which is now the heart of its 23 districts. We covered about a quarter of the ring and have tons left to see.

Freezing rain

We got some freezing rain, which made it tricky to get around for a few days (I live at the top of a hill). Poor Hebi couldn’t get traction with her little paws.

Swing dancing

For my first week on my own in Vienna, I mostly stuck around the apartment and got used to things. But I also made it to a bunch of swing dances, which is a fun way to get out and meet people.

Walking Hebi

Hebi was moody without Alicia. She kept trying to find her. But with love and treats and a visit to her friend Tamo, she cheered up. She took me on a walk to show me the view from the hill by the apartment.

Alicia leaving

Alicia hopped on a plane to Thailand to train as a boxer.