Viennese Fragments and Trails

Where last year I stopped to admire the Austrian embassy in Valletta, this year I spotted a Maltese church in Vienna. The European nations are intricately interconnected.

One unexpected find from the Royal Apartments of the Habsburgs was that Empress Sisi installed circular grips, dangling from the ceiling of a personal room, so she could work out inside the palace. This horrified many in the court, but she refused to give it up. 

I recognised in Sisi the longing for freedom, and attempts to escape the confinement of the Hofburg (the palace). She seemed to have some insight into the fetishising of travel though, seemingly gained after ordering a holiday residence in Corfu, Greece, and then losing interest in it at some point down the line. On this topic, she reflects that travel was only exciting because it involved a collision with the unknown. If she stayed somewhere long enough, she got itchy feet once more.

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The D tram would take me part of the way from my lodging to the Old Town, and the rest of the journey would be completed by foot. This had the effect of manifesting two places of interest I’d read about but hadn’t expected to get to: St Charles’ Church and Café Schwarzenberg. 

I recognised the Church at a distance, with its distinctive dome flanked by giant spires, and instinctively crossed streets to meet it at eye level. Unfortunately, the building was somehow too grand and imposing once I had an unobstructed view, so I didn’t linger in the square it was on too long. I circled the building, and found ornamentation on the building behind it which was more digestible in scale. With Christian crosses, angels and an ornate style, this scalable beauty invited slowing down and taking it in. Perched on a typical, wedding cake style Viennese facade, it was a vision in white, teal, black, red and gold. Distinctive elements, which would have on their own constituted a masterpiece, came together over a generous expanse of wall, to create a splendid whole.

Spotting Café Schwarzenberg, remembering it being recommended by a blogger, and nabbing a table by the window, I observed both locals and tourists making themselves at home in the brown interiors gilded with gold. In truth, I felt unsettled: it was too late in the day for a melange (the coffee preferred by the Viennese), and too early in the day for me to feel I’d earned rest. I left after half an hour, wary of the easy smiles of white, heterosexual-looking men who either chatted amongst each other or took advantage of the free newspapers. (Was it them who had supported the far right in the last election?)

That same day I had pre-purchased a ticket to the Albertina (the modern art museum), and I was eager to go in at its opening hour of 10am. I enjoyed the exhibitions, especially a painting of flowers by Matisse, and doting drawings of Rubens’ children. Enjoying a world-class museum is to be expected, however, which is why I’ve focused on the unplanned parts of my journey.

All in all, Vienna might not be the first city in Europe you associate me with, but if you look for radical and alternative cultures, you will find them. The setting is often one of great beauty, sprinkling many memorable moments along the way.

Some thoughts on travel plans for this year

It can be humbling to remember that, as a traveller who is making plans to see Bruges, Belgium, this year, I will be part of the problem of overtourism. I am well aware that Bruges is highly sought after amongst people travelling to Europe, yet I, too, dream of its picturesque Old Town, its Hanseatic history and its beautiful art. I will go to the effort of memorising some basics of Dutch and support local businesses where I can. I will also be mindful of the way I travel, and make it as sustainable as possible.

I will be spending a week in Dresden, Germany, to make up for it. Dresden is comparatively little known on the global stage, with less than 20% of its visitors being international. One Youtube influencer described it as 'The most beautiful city you've never heard of'. Of the German tourists, most of them come from neighbouring states, like Saxony or Bavaria. I suspect that a city of its kind of aesthetic and historic importance is overlooked in part because it is in the former DDR ('East Germany'). It could also be that, in a continent of Parises, Berlins and Pragues, it doesn't stand out in quite the same way. But Dresden has been on my radar for many a year. 

My entry point, Vienna, enchants me with its gleaming, walkable and ornate city centre. I am staying four nights here to recover from the long, cross-continental ride, see what I missed in the Kunsthistorisches Museum the first time round, visit the Albertina (its premier modern art museum) for the first time, and get some of those palaces in. 

I don't know if I'll be able to incorporate a stay in Berlin this year, but there's easily a week's worth of sights I'm keen on seeing, including the Neues Museum, the Deutschland (History) Museum and the Futurium. 

Cross-Continental at the Sydney Film Festival

I managed to see 10 films in 12 days at this year's Sydney Film Festival. Here are my thoughts on 2 of them:

The Cycle of Love - directed by Orlando von Einsiedel:

The external circumstance of meeting a soul you feel deeply connected to leads to a journey of tapping into rich reserves of inner love. The protagonist, PK, born in an India which boxes him into the 'Untouchable' caste (Dalit in the Hindu tradition), overcomes negating social conditioning to advocate for himself and others. This is partially achieved by cycling from Delhi to Sweden and learning from Indian, Afghan and Iranian hospitality of the 1970s. Along the way PK encounters the kindness of strangers, which keep him going in his darkest moments. Enchanted by the bloom of romance with Borås-based Lotta, which is punctuated by many memorable co-incidences, easily interpretable as fate, he must find his way to her without a physical map, when they are separated by geography. It's clear that there is serious potential for a lasting relationship waiting for him, with Lotta describing her time in India as "magic" in retrospect. Love propels PK into the unknown, and a willingness to sit with and absorb the wisdom of everyday people - over the painting of their portrait or the sharing of food and drink - further opens up possibilities to healing and proactivity. This is an invitation to keep your heart open. 

The World of Love - directed by Yoon Ga-eun:

This is not a happy story, but one with lots of twists and turns, compelling viewing about the vicious cycle of abuse. The director, a South Korean woman, shows how a single act of abuse can be, and often is, reproduced by the victim. As an example of the moral ambiguity and unpredictability of each character, I will trace the narrative arc of one non-central character, the main character's mother. Introduced as having a problem with alcohol, she is able to be receptive to and soothing towards her daughter's processing of difficult events. She then provides additional support by encouraging her ex-husband (and the father of her teen) to be more attentive to said teen's need to have more of him in her life. However, she is not able to escape a cycle of physical violence. Witnessing someone pinch a young girl hard on the neck leads to her acting out internalised suffering by pinching someone else in turn, at a moment in which we expect tenderness. She is a character of complexity, and cannot be neatly categorised. This insightful film occupies many people like her, who both earn our sympathy and disquiet us. Incisive and marvellously acted, it asks the viewer to constantly re-evaluate what's going on in light of new information. It will leave you questioning power dynamics, both in South Korea and every society on earth.

Canada in the Imagination - Part 2

This year I read intriguing texts from a Canadian academic with a Czech background, Ivan Kalmar. He looks at what I regard as the under-studied reality of discrimination against Eastern Europeans. The title of his 2022 book, White but not quite: Central Europe’s Illiberal Revolt, introduces the concept of the ambiguity of Eastern European people in the Global North: they are treated as superior to People of Colour, but inferior to people who are ‘the right kind of white’.

Kalmar argues that Eastern Europeans are associated with non-democratic regimes such as the region-wide Communism that fell in 1989, or the fascism of a modern-day Russia or Hungary. Nevermind that Italy, Austria and Sweden have far-right governments at the moment, or that Germany’s Neo-Nazis are expected to lead the country in one of the next elections. When Western Europe or the United States upholds ‘illiberal tendencies’ nobody accuses them of having insufficient moral integrity. However, the Global North accuses Eastern Europeans as having a flawed character, some sort of inherent inadequacy, and this racism has a real impact on the rights, opportunities and Life Chances of this group.

Ivan Kalmar’s groundbreaking and formative work has been affirming to me, and I have only discussed the aspects of his work which most resonate. I sometimes think about paying him a visit at the University of Toronto, or at least sending an email of solidarity.

Another Toronto-based writer who has influenced me is Margaret Atwood. I shared some thoughts on her book of essays, Burning Questions, a while ago, on my blog. I still haven’t read The Handmaid’s Tale, but a recent interview on Dua Lipa’s Service95 Book Club educated me on the extreme structural misogyny of Romanian Communism. (Content Warning for the paragraph below: Forced Pregnancy, humiliating gynaecological examinations, degrading conditions of orphanages.)

The Handmaid’s Tale made a point of only drawing inspiration from already existing injustices around the world. Margaret Atwood turned her eye to Ceausescu’s regime, where married women were required to have four children. This law was enforced by monthly gynaecological ‘examinations’ - under the supervision of the police. There is a popular Romanian saying, something about “the women were undressed in public.” Quite aside from the psychological damage to the women affected, which I imagine is a generational trauma, the economic burden of bringing up four kids was commonly experienced as unbearable. Mothers turned to their doctors in distress, and were told that if they put their offspring in an orphanage, they would be well looked after. This was well-meaning but far from the truth: the orphanages had so many children and so little funding that the conditions were unsanitary and not enough attention could be given to the individuals by the staff.

(Romania and Bulgaria share a border, and are often mentioned in the same breath by nationals of immigrant-receiving countries in Europe. My travels have not included this Northern neighbour, but in the future it’s possible I could visit. It would be in part a gesture of pan-European solidarity, and more specifically a mission to discover what the Balkan region has to offer. I want to know more and see the beauty I imagine waits for me there.)

Anyway, the clear advantage of the world’s most successful multicultural country is that its people tend to be informed about what happens beyond its borders. Canada is not geographically isolated in the way that Australia is, with shorter flights to Europe and Asia, similar time zones to Latin America (which makes visiting more attractive on a practical level), and that long land border with the United States. Kalmar and Atwood are the beneficiaries of this interconnectedness, and have, in turn, expanded my international imagination for the better.

Canada in the Imagination - Part 1

If I hadn't attended a Sydney Writers' Festival discussion on nationalism in Canada, I wouldn't have realised that our Northern cousins were 10% more Christian than us Australians.

Waleed Aly and Scott Stephens of 'The Minefield' - a radio show which looks at contemporary issues through a philosophical lens - interviewed Ottawa-based influencer David Moscrop, whom I had looked up prior to the show. There was something about the way in which David presented himself which evoked flavours of Christianity I hadn't been expecting. 

I have been curious about Canada for some time, noting its current status as the most successful multicultural country in the world (sorry, Malcolm Turnbull, but we come in second). The lived reality of such social integration is something I long to be a part of, even if it's for a short time. (I have dreams of slow travelling Toronto, Montreal and/or Vancouver). 

I must have assumed that their openness to and acceptance of People of Colour springs in part from the reduced role of religious doctrine. I was wrong, for while in the 2021 Census Australians self-reported being 43.9% Christian and 38.9% Non-religious, Canadians claimed to be 53.3% Christian and 34.6% Non-religious that same year. 

I had always suspected that the surface similarities my 2001 stop-over in Vancouver announced would give way to something more nuanced and divergent from my base in Sydney. I noticed higher numbers of People of Colour walking the streets, the LGBTIQ-friendliness in the air, the fresh air of a waterside city, the manageable levels of pollution (comparable to Sydney). My first real hint of the cultural difference was the politeness of customer service staff. (Australians skip the formalities.) And yet, I could see that the socially levelling philosophy sometimes referred to as Tall Poppy Syndrome was in place, and I'd read the national sense of humour was similar to Australia's, along with a shared love-hate relationship to the United States. 

This likeness of Canadian culture to Australia's inspires a kind of familiarity and comfort - we may be geographically removed from each other, but those multiple shared values and recurring themes build a sense of affinity. I know I'm not alone in feeling this, amongst citizens of the world who have made the connection between the two. 

And so, I add a new piece of information to my Canadian imagination, and hope that I will have the chance to go back for a closer look in upcoming years. 

Thoughts on 'The Mutation' (with spoilers)

Last Thursday was a richly layered day of international cinema and South Korean experiences... I'm still thinking about it... I had been anticipating 'The Mutation', a film by a woman director called Shin Su-won, and it exceeded my expectations. It became apparent soon after the start that this film rewarded careful attention to detail from the viewer. The raising of an eyebrow or the curl of a corner of the mouth - these subtle movements prompted emotional journeys, and dialogue was only a bit player. 

Two people on the fringes of society - a Black man and a same-sex attracted woman - bond over a shared sense of exclusion. The music is gentle, playful, reflective. There are sequences which are dreams, and the light and colourful palette recast ordinary settings into places of beauty. The glow of the mise-en-scene, whether it's the interior of a luxury mall or a charming landscape with mountains in the background, is constant. 

"Even in the darkness, it glows," the woman says of a black goat with a unique and lovely pattern. This symbolises her appreciation of Se-oh (the leading man) as they get to know each other over a couple of days. The actor Han Hyun-min draws upon his own experience of other-isation and the sadness that can follow. He described, in-person after the screening, perpetually being mistaken for being a temporary visitor to South Korea, instead of the fully-fledged citizen he is. One of the first scenes in Shin's film shows him asking a doctor to stop speaking in English and switch to Se-oh's native Hangul. In other early scenes, he is seen as hypersexual by the women around him, including Sara (the leading woman). Sara quickly finds out that he is only interested in friendship, and Se-oh stays free of romantic and/or sexual relationships in this film - his narrative is all about embracing the inner self. 

Sad though it is to navigate the country as an outsider, there is comfort to be found as Se-oh and Sara's mutual understanding grows. The characters start off alone in their grief (for a loved one has been lost to each), but are able to heal and move on. Ultimately, this film offers relief by showing the power of a friendship. 

"She was the only person I met without a mask - and now she's gone," Sara reflects on her ill-fated romance. Flashbacks show their first meeting in the lush countryside, where Sara's shoelace is undone, and the young woman who is willing to kneel down and tie it for her. Her words are direct and her face is open. Se-oh, too, masks his identity by working in a white tiger costume at a local amusement park. White tigers are considered a genetic mutation, and he comes to see himself as a mutant in the absence of acceptance from family, friends and his workplace. 

It is powerful, then, to hear him yell out, in one of the film's closing scenes, his full name, to Sara and anyone who could be listening. Along with recovering his identity, he recovers a zest for life. When it's time for the two to say goodbye, they affirm verbally and non-verbally that this is the beginning of a long-term connection. Something new and supportive has been built. 

Generosity

Your interpretation of the world

Evokes ongoing curiosity

Movements deft and self-aware

You are attuned to possibility

I love how much you care

It brings me to the light in me