I didn't start out my journey on the D tram thinking I would get off at Schwarzenberg. Mysteriously, the ticket machine onboard the vehicle ceased to accept my Visa card, so I decided to shorten my ride by one stop.
This deposited me within a stone's throw of Karlsplatz, where I had circled around St Charles' Church before. My mum had given me tips on the area in the meanwhile, so I knew the Karlsplatz Art Nouveau train station was somewhere around there. Before I knew what was happening, I chanced upon the Musikverein, a beige and red building which housed concerts, amongst other things. Admiring the stately structure with its inbuilt statues and curlicues (along with some Asian tourists), I noticed brightly coloured advertisements for 'Der Klein Prinz' (The Small Prince) and some other performance for children one building over. This led me to discover that the New State Opera was right there, attached to the much bigger Albertina Modern. I made a note to return. There were a few minutes until opening time anyway.
Karlsplatz station was easy to locate, on the edge of the park across the road, and I let it work its magic on me... a bold combination of white, mint and gold, with floral themes and enigmatic symbols. The golden lines glowed in the sunlight, and looked charming where there was dappled shade. The micro museum inside the station opened while I was there, but I preferred to stay outside and let the visuals mesmerise me.
After 30-45 minutes I decided to go back to the Schwarzenberg Café and enjoy a sweet treat. Live jazz inside had drawn a queue, so I chose a cherry strudel "to go" and snacked in the park, overlooking St Charles' Church and enjoying the fresh air. This strudel was a juicy red, bursting with flavour. (They don't make them like this in Australia, so I enjoyed every bite.)
The Albertina Modern blends right into Wien's wedding cake facades, but it has actually been a self-consciously avant-garde institution since the end of the second world war, when it shook off the censorship imposed by the Nazis. The space incorporated frequent international exhibitions into its repertoire, from India to Egypt, US to Bulgaria and more.
I entered another flow state upon letting my eye rest on geometric patterns by Vasarely. Whether monochrome or in contrasting colours (like blue and red), there was enough variation amongst the repetition to reward a dancing eye. I also liked neon yellow and red signs declaring 'anything goes' and 'light up', a kind of decontextualised, comic-friendly and possibly commercialised splash of colour in a room of white. I was reminded of Robyn's song 'Light up,' which is about developing a heartfelt connection with someone. I thought about my friends and past relationships, some in Europe, others in Austraila, their light informing mine, and vice versa.
Perhaps my favourite part of the Albertina Modern was the interior walls and ceilings in the centre of the structure. Cream and royal blue. Curved, triangle-esque additions to the corners, similar in shape to the Art History Museum's, but with curlicues and patterns mostly inspired by nature. Whether admired from the staff-less café on the ground floor, or on the mezzanine level, or perhaps while walking between them on the staircase, it was riveting. Smaller in scale than most all-encompassing architectural designs made in Wien, it lent itself to a more comfortable mental space.
The gallery had a restaurant attached, where I had a chicken salad and called my Mum. Out in the open air, I was facing something called the Handelakademie, which Mum translated into "Trade Academy". Statues of Adam Smith and Christopher Columbus flanked the entrance. This building, also, was rewarding to the wandering eye, a rather large, sandy-coloured institution. The small street which divided it and the Albertina Modern was pedestrianised and a couple of tram routes traversed it. I admired my surroundings (the Karlsplatz station and park was visible in the background), and felt lucky that the day had unfolded so sweetly.
On the way back to my tram stop I noticed that a carousel of sizeable but elegant, baby pink horses had been set up in the yard of the New State Opera. The small outdoors area also contained a stage, and bench-like seating, where two men were sharing a word. Noticing an official-looking guard, I asked him what was happening, and apparently there would be two events designed for young children that day, at 3:30pm and 7pm. The kids could ride the carousel for a fee while listening to music by the official State Opera, play with each other or sit with their parents for free, and anyone could join. "They get them while they're young," I mused to myself, impressed with the respect for the youngest Wien citizens. They are lucky to be brought up in a city where music informs everyday culture so deeply.
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