Ring My Bell-vedere

Stones of Remembrance Meeting and the Belvedere

Today's the day! After exploring its exterior and the surrounding neighborhood, it was time to finally go into the Belvedere. Before we get there though, I have to tell you about my very unique morning. As part of my film project, my friends Amelia, McKenna, and I, got to meet with Daliah Hindler, the head of the Stones of Remembrance organization.

Talking with Dahlia was fascinating. In 2005, her mother founded the organization to ensure her uncle's wishes for a familial memorial plaque were upheld. Since the street is owned by the city of Vienna and not a particular individual, the Stones can be placed in front of formerly Jewish homes and businesses even if the building owner doesn't like it. More of this conversation will appear in our video but it was a deeply interesting morning and I'm honoured to have gotten the opportunity to meet with Daliah.

After our morning breakfast with her, Daliah took us into the Stones of Remembrance office. While the organization only has 3 employees and none of them do this full time, the office still felt very small for such an important part of this city. Even if they don't know what they're looking at, everyone in Vienna has seen at least one Stone of Remembrance and the fact that they all come from this one very tiny room was very weird to see.

After our meeting with Dahlia, it was time for our tour of the Belvedere with Gretl. The complex was built by Prince Eugene of Savoy as a summer residence and, from the outside, has become one of my favorite buildings in Vienna. Because it was built as a palace rather than purpose built as a museum like the Kunsthistorisches, the Upper Belvedere felt very different to walk around. The halls were filled with art but the interior of the building was less impressive and felt far less grandiose than the Kunsthistorisches, mostly because it was never meant to be seen by the public and, therefore, did not need to demonstrate power and stability in the same way.

By far the most famous painting in the Belvedere, and perhaps all of Austria, is Gustav Klimt's The Kiss. To many, it represents a loving embrace and a tender, romantic moment between two people. The story Gretl told us of the painting's meaning, however, is far more sinister. It is rumored that the painting is actually a representation of Klimt's uneven relationship with model Emilie Flöge. Klimt was engaged sexually with many of his models and had several illegitimate children with multiple women. He also had syphilis, a fact Flöge knew. The woman in the painting seems wholly uninterested in the affection she is receiving from the man. She is also seen clinging to the edge of a cliff, about to be pushed off if she doesn't lean into the man's (who looks a lot like Klimt) embrace. Seeing this interpretation of this extremely famous work definitely changed my attitude toward it. I would never say that I had a particular fondness for The Kiss over any other Klimt painting but I now can't look at it without seeing a woman trying pretty hard to not get syphilis from a handsy artist and that's...not necessarily the best message for art to send.

Of course, one of the most important historic things that happened at this museum involves a painting no longer on display. The Portrait of Adele Bloch-Bauer I, also known as The Woman in Gold, by Klimt was displayed at the Belvedere from 1941 to 2004. The piece was made for Adele's family by Klimt but was stolen by the Nazis in 1939 before being transferred to the Belvedere.

Adele's portrait was called the "Mona Lisa of Austria," and was one of the most prized pieces in the Belvedere's extensive collection. In March 2000, Adele's niece, Maria Altmann, filed a lawsuit against the Belvedere with the help of lawyer Randy Schönberg, the grandson of composer Arnold Schönberg. Because of the 1998 Art Restitution Act, the painting was, rightfully, Altmann's and the Belvedere had no claim to it. After an extensive legal battle up to Austria's Supreme Court, Schönberg was able to acquire all of the art Altmann's family had lost for her and the Belvedere was forced to give it back. As a result, Altmann was the target of a vicious media campaign where she was viewed as a thief for taking Adele from the people of Austria and signs were put up throughout Vienna reading "Ciao, Adele" to warn people that the painting was about to be removed. On Altmann's request, it was sold to the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City where it remains to this day.

After our lovely tour of the Belvedere had concluded, I returned home to work on my blog (with a stop to get gelato on the way) and to edit the footage of our interview with Dahlia.