The Flag of the Arrow Cross Party (Hungarian National Socialists)
Budapest drew the geographical short straw. The city was founded during the RomanEmpire and the ethnic Hungarians arrived in the 9th century. Their history has been rife with war, however, as that first settlement was pillaged by the Mongols in the 13th century, and spent 150 years under the rule of the OttomanEmpire.
Actually two individual cities separated by the DanubeRiver – Buda & Pest – were unified in 1873 and became the second capital of the Austro–HungarianEmpire, which wasn’t dissolved until the end of TheGreatWar in 1918. World War II arrived on the Hungarian’s doorstep, but the people were no strangers to strife. They originally allied with NaziGermany and when they tried to pull out of the war, their leaders were overthrown and a puppet regime was installed.
Shoes on the Danube Memorial (with the Chain Bridge in the background)
That regime was called the ArrowCrossParty. From the 15th of October 1944 until the 28th of March 1945, this socialist political party ruled over Hungary and murdered or deported 600,000 Jews (many to Auschwitz, other shot into the Danube). The Arrow Cross shared many similarities and ideologies with the Germans; even the symbol of the party (an ancient symbol of the Magyar tribes who settled Hungary) slightly resembles the Nazi swastika.
The Arrow Cross rose to power by signing treaties with both the Nazis and the Soviets, directly leading to cease-fires. Prior to the winter of 1944-45, the Party committed atrocities against its own people living in Budapest and across Hungary. The short-lived rule birthed death squads, deportations, slave labor, and forced military battalions. When historians mention the Holocaust, the Nazis remain front and center, but the vast majority of exterminated Jews happened in, or came from, Hungary – and were committed by the Arrow Cross Party.
Arrow Cross Party Propaganda (circa 1944)
Toward the end of the war, Soviet forces surrounded and laid siege to the city (the BattleofBudapest), squeezing the lifeblood out of the people and the Arrow Cross Party. In the spring of 1945, the USSR’s Red Army officially took control of the city (their rule lasted until the Revolutionof 1956), and during the ColdWar that followed, Hungary maintained ties to Russia. The country didn’t actually gain its true freedom from tyranny until 1991, after the fall of the Soviet Union and the BerlinWall came tumbling down.
This violent history is obvious when walking around the city. Most, if not all, has been rebuilt, but one can feel the undercurrent of suspicion rippling through the landscape. I suppose it’s natural for a people who were placed smack-dab in the middle of two ‘evil’ superpowers and had been attacked and pillaged by various ’empires’ for centuries to be a bit wary of life. I’m not sure how, but they still manage to smile to tourists.
As an artist in my own right, I think about leaving my legacy behind in my writing, music, and films. So it is with a heavy heart that I learned about the Catalan artist and architect Antoni Gaudi (God’sArchitect) who passed away tragically prior to completing work on his most famous of works: the Basílica i Temple Expiatori de la Sagrada Família, or la Sagrada Familia, for short. His magnum opus.
Casa Batllo, by Antoni Gaudi in Barcelona, Spain
Gaudi’s thumbprint can be seen across the city of Barcelona from the basilica to CasaBatllo and to the works of his financierPalau Guell and Park Guell. Though, the structures do not dominate the entire skyline. During his life, he designed 19 buildings in Barcelona alone. His art defies traditional architecture and his style is often described as neo-gothic, moderniste, and even Oriental. He rarely drew up plans, choosing instead to mold three-dimensional models.
Perhaps one of the most interesting and appealing aspects of this designer’s method is how he used his creations to tell stories. Gaudi put relentless thought and consideration into each and every element of his design from the materials used to the way in which they would be used.
From the outside, the basilica facades tell the story of the birth and death of Jesus (on each side respectively). This can be seen in the statues that decorate the area surrounding the doors. The NativityFacade faces the sunrise while the Passion Facade faces sunset. By the time the church is finally completed, around 2026, there will be a total of 18 spires each representing a different person (12 for the disciples, 4 for the evangelists, 1 for the Virgin Mary, and 1 for Jesus). Currently, only 8 have been finished.
The exterior isn’t much to look at from a style standpoint, however, the interior will blow you away. The entire apse is designed as a geometric hyperboloid (I had no idea what this was, but it looks cool as hell). The pillars that hold up the entire structure are designed to look like trees (redwoods if you ask me) adding a natural element. The roof is so high, it appears these ‘trees’ reach up to heaven itself.
Interior of La Sagrada Familia (my photo)
Interior of La Sagrada Familia (my photo)
Interior of La Sagrada Familia (not my photo)
Interior of La Sagrada Familia (not my photo)
I suppose the fact that Gaudi is so well appreciated so many years after his death fills me with hope for my own creative works. Even if I end up destitute prior to my death, there is always that chance that my books are discovered and downloaded on Amazon.com in the next few hundred years.
What is Film Noir? Many critics debate whether or not this style of film-making is a genre unto itself or not. Film Noir, or black film, is a type of film from the 40s and 50s, typically gritty detective stories, that thematically deal with sex, drugs, crime, and the seedy underbelly of society. The films also utilize cinematography, lighting and shadows, and music to create a dark and ominous mood. Noir characters aren’t heroes. They’re flawed every-men.
Film Noir in Vienna’s Sewer System
Additionally, the narrative structure tends to drive the climax into some sort of maze or shrinking space, forcing the protagonist and antagonist together. The screenplays are often pessimistic, fatalistic, or nihilistic. But a film classified into this not-genre doesn’t have to have any or all of these and there are many films in the genre which have virtually none.
It’s confusing as hell. So when I was assigned an oral presentation on film noir during my first, freshman year, History of Cinema class in college, I butchered my way through it and escaped with a B+. Still, to this day, I’m bewildered when it comes to what makes noir, noir. And looking back, I’m pretty sure the rest of the class was as well.
During my recent trip to Vienna, however, I enjoyed watching a classic bit of film noir cinema greatness: TheThirdMan (with OrsonWelles). Shot almost entirely on location in Austria (including the theater BurgKino, in which we viewed the picture), the film takes place during a post-WWII rebuilding of Vienna, when the main character comes to town to find his best friend dead. The first line of voice-over narration says, “I never knew the old Vienna before the war…”
Vienna’s Reisenrad or Ferris Wheel as it Looks Today (it was a featured scene in the film)
A mystery ensues (if you haven’t seen it I won’t spoil it for you) all over the capital city of Austria transporting the audience to 1949, but to many of the same places Jen and I had visited earlier in the visit. The film was very good and I recommend it. I’m still not sure I can explain exactly what makes it film noir, although the final chase through Vienna’s complex sewersystem – complete with elongated shadows and echoing footsteps – is most likely the film’s best indication.
In his review of the film, the late RogerEbert said, “Of all the movies I have seen, this one most completely embodies the romance of going to the movies.” I don’t completely agree with him, but I can see how he arrived at that opinion. I did feel very much engrossed in the golden age of Hollywood during the screening.
The Prague Skyline Panorama from atop the Astronomy Tower
How many cities in the world rhyme with the word blog?
Combined with the trip to the German Christmas markets, we swung through the CzechRepublic for a couple days to see what all the hullabaloo was about their capital city: Prague. It’s been on the top of my life for over 10 years for a few reasons. The first of which is that everybody who’s been there raves about it. I’ve spoken to friends, family, and even strangers on the interwebs who claim Prague is one of the most beautiful cities in Europe.
Rightly so, considering it was one of the few major markets to avoid bombing during WWII. The Nazis marched across the border prior to their invasion of Poland – which was the inciting incident that brought the combined strength of Britain and France down upon the ThirdReich. With the city heavily occupied by the Nazis, and so geographically close to the German stronghold of Munich, it’s easy to see why many of the beautiful architecture dating back to the Middle Ages survived.
Tyn’s Church and the Astronomical Clock Tower from a Distance
However, I must say that while I enjoyed my time in Prague, I was somewhat disappointed. Perhaps it was the level of expectations people set for me. Perhaps it was the weather. Perhaps the crowds (we happened to be there on a Czech specific holiday) stole some of the majesty away. These may have all been contributing factors, but I presume the real reason I wasn’t thrilled is simply due to the sheer amount of traveling I’ve done over the past few years. Many of the places I’ve seen around Asia and Africa just dwarf what Prague is and has been. It’s the way I choose to travel – more IndianaJones than AnthonyBourdain.
I guess what I most wanted to experience was that OldWorld feel of being in another place and time. I wanted to step out of the 21st century and into the central square and winding back streets of Prague to feel like I had been transported to the 16oos. If you’ve seen The Illusionist (mostly shot in the Czech Republic) you’ll understand a bit of what I mean. However, the massive amount of traffic – both pedestrian and automotive – didn’t help to get the job done. On top of that, there are hundreds of old buildings, yet their first floor storefronts have become GAPs, ZARAs, and other high end clothing and jewelry stores. That certainly takes away from the ambience.
Of all the activities we did, the one that made me feel the most like traveling back in time was a tour of the Clementinum: a series of buildings that now houses the national library, among other things. In the past, it was where Kepler and Brahedid a lot of their work high above in their astronomytower. That was where we were able to view the amazingly preserved BaroqueLibrary, as well as gaze out over the entire city. The view of the church steeples and Medieval and Renaissance roofs was astounding.
The Charles Bridge with Prague Castle and St. Vitus Cathedral Behind
We also crossed the CharlesBridge a few times, back and forth to the old town square, or StaromestskeNamesti – which is home to both the AstronomicalClock (fantastic) and the famously haunting Tyn’sChurch that dominates the skyline. The bridge crosses the VltavaRiver, is over 600 meters long and over 10 meters wide. It dates back to the 14th century and is considered to be one of the most astonishing gothic style bridges in the world, decorated with over 30 statues (mostly of Christian iconography). It’s beautiful for sure, when you’re not crammed shoulder to shoulder with people trying to cross. It ended up feeling more like a through-way than an actual sight to go and see for itself.
Likewise, the old town square was so full of people, it became difficult to move. I’ll even go so far as to say it reminded me of being in China. Yep, it was that bad. The church was cool from the outside, but overly decorated and gaudy from the inside. The clock was perhaps the best part, though with so many people there, it became difficult to soak it in and enjoy it fully.
Prague’s Astronomical Clock
The clock was finished in 1410 and is the third oldest (and only still operational) astronomical clock in the world. The dial is an astrolabe, a medieval device used for star mapping. The clock face also boasts a zodiac ring. Normally, the center of the square is empty. Except we happened to be there during Advent and like their German neighbor, Prague boasts its own version of the Christmas market.
The fully lit tree was a nice touch, as was the stage (off to the side) where groups of children’s choirs would perform one after the other. And on December5th, Mikulas makes an appearance. The Czech version of Santa is slightly different from our own. He appears with two followers: an angel and a devil, also known as the Krampus. If the child has been bad over the year, the devil kidnaps him (or her) and tosses them in his sack to bring straight to hell. However, the angel pleads to Mikulas on the child’s behalf, to save him from damnation. Mikulas then asks the child to reciteasongor a poem and if he can, then he’s freed from the devil’s sack and given a treat. If he can’t, it’s said that there’s nothing else to be done but wave goodbye as the cackling krampus departs.
Staromestske Namesti (Old Town Square)
Quite a bit scarier than getting a lumpof coal in your stocking. Don’t you think?
So our trip was fun and delightful overall. I wish that I had felt more of the magic Prague has to offer. I suppose that’s the risk when one’s traveled to Kathmandu, Kyoto, and Cairo.
Lost in Translation 