Tuesday, 21 May 2024 Weimar: Goethe and Schiller

Written 6 August 2024

I don't think Alexander Pushkin was ever actually in Weimar, but he was an admirer of Goethe, and the monument (also along our path) is supposed to be both a nod to the Soviet occupation during which is was erected in 1949 and a symbol of cultural connections between Russia and Germany.

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (1749–1832; the "von," marker of nobility, was added to his name by Karl August in 1782) was born in Frankfurt but moved here in 1775 and took up residence in a small house in the country—not so deep in the country, really; we walked there from the center of town in under half an hour. That's Leon and David on the path ahead of us and the house in the distance.

At the right is the charming little garden gate through which we entered (taken facing back the other way, from a window of the house).

The back dooryard is decoratively paved with pebbles, and I think Goethe himself at least designed the pattern if he didn't actually assemble it.

Here's an interesting "saddle" chair before one of his several desks.

Absolutely nothing in the house is labeled, not even the paintings, so I ran into an annoying problem. We were issued audioguides of the sort that you had to hold up to your ear the whole time, I had my camera in the other hand and juggled back and forth the brochures we were given (which provided the only clue to what numbers on the audioguide corresponded to what we were seeing). My pocket recorder was hanging on a lanyard around my neck the whole time (along with my binoculars, which were useful for looking at those rooms where you could only peer in at the doorway), but I had neither enough hands nor enough time to record any notes! So this diary page are likely to be a lot sketchier than usual.

He lived there alone for 9 years or so, and during that time became a pillar of the community, serving on the duke's privy council, all kinds of civic committees, etc. He even helped lay out the local botanical garden, and the gardens around his little house were full of all kinds of flowering plants.

In one room was this small keyboard instrument, and in another this interestingly shaped stove, which I assume is original to the period if not actually to this house.

And of course, I'm always interested in the kitchen, which, when we were there, was cluttered by a special exhibition of some modern artist's collection of glazed pottery planters.

At the right is a better shot of the brick stove you can see behind the plants.

In the gardens behind the house is a little lunch place, advertised by these whimsical sheet-metal figures.

And also in the gardens, I managed to catch Leon and Gritta together and asked them to pose for a portrait.

From the "country" house, we then walked back into town to visit the larger house he moved to from it. This picturesque alley leads to an open square (actually triangular) called the Frauenplan.

The shot at the right is Goethe's town house viewed from the Frauenplan. It is, of course, marked with a "Goethe lived here" plaque and is also now a museum. The town's population was only about 6,000 at the time.

Initially, Goethe rented the town house, still by himself, but soon his frend Grand Duke Karl August bought the house and gave it to him. He married a local girl (of humble birth) and set out to raise a family. Unfortunately only one of their five children survived infancy, and the last one died at age 41. The son's widow and her children moved in with the widowed elder Goethe and cared for him until his death. This paragraph is a vast simplification of Goethe's relationships, marriages, and emotional attachments—if you want the whole story, check out his Wikipedia page.

Again, nothing in the house is labeled. At the left here is the card we were given that told us what room we were in, what it was called, and what number on the audioguide described it. I had the same problem with note taking, so tomorrow I'm taking along a set of airline earbuds, which I think I can plug into the audioguide, so that I can let it dangle from its lanyard once I've punched in the relevant number and will have a hand free to record notes with. We had a similar problem yesterday, where the audioguide was a download to our phones. If that comes up again, I'll be able to stick the phone in my pocket and listen with the earbuds.

According to the few notes I was able to take, the painting at the right, over the stairway, is Iris descending on a rainbow, a symbol of peace.

At the left here is another decorated ceiling.

The house is well stocked with statuary. Flanking this doorway, according to my notes are busts of Schiller and Herder, both of whom died 30 years before Goethe. Together with Goethe and Christoph Martin Wieland (another poet and writer), they make up what are called "the big four" of Weimar.

The oversized bust at the left here is actually of some Roman emperor's wife, but Goethe believed it was Juno, whom he described as his first love in Rome.

The metal objectat the right actually conceals a modern radiator; by "modern," I assume them mean later than Goethe's time.

Goethe really was a polymath. In addition to being a poet, playwright, novelist, and stateman, he was a scientist. He wrote botanical treatises, and at the left here is part of his mineral collection.

This room at the top of the house seemed to be his main scientific study, with cases and drawers full of specimens.

At the left, the kitchen, with a few plates and containers of the period.

And at the right, spotted on our way to lunch, the same horsless carriage with tour guide that we saw yesterday. I got a better shot of it this time.

For lunch, we went back to the Black Bear to try their Thüringer bratwurst with sauerkraut and potatoes. We took our time, as the route led along an interesting street, and we paused for a while to listen to a street musician.

At the restaurant, David and Leon tried a couple of nonalcoholic beers (yes, they have those in Germany!), a Rosen for David and a Paulaner for Leon.

At the left is the bratwurst that three of us ordered. Leon had just had that recently, so he chose the turkey saltimbocca on a bed of asparagus ragout. All yummy.

Next up was Schiller's house, ony a three-minute walk from Goethe's. That's one of the reasons Goethe moved back into town, to be closer to Schiller. Before this trip, I had heard of Schiller mostly from my college freshman roommate. She went on to a career as a journalist specializing in the Far East (she was in Tiananmen Square on the day!), but she spent her high-school junior year abroad in Germany and when I first knew her, she was entirely enthralled with Schiller and his poetry.

The 1850 painting at the left, by Maximilian Stieler, portrays Johann Christoph Friedrich von Schiller (1759–1805, seated) with his friend Andreas Streicher ([ieanist, composer, piano maker). Its title is "Schiller and Streicher, fleeing," and I think the audioguide said something about their being on the run for a while, but I don't remember why.I think the audioguide said that the framed object at the right was a board game of some sort, featuring monuments of Europe, but I'm not sure of that.

Most of the rooms were at least partly furnished, but just with pieces appropriate to the period, not objects actually owned by Schiller.

Both rooms feature tall stoves in the corners for heating, one free-standing and one built in.

The white object under the chair in the left-hand photo is a modern temperature and humidity recorder.

I take the piece of furniture shown here at the left to be an embroidery frame, with drawers below for thread, needles, and other supplies.

The photo at the right shows Schiller's writing desk. Unlike most of the furnishings, everything here is the actual stuff he used. He was another polymath—in addition to being an author and poet, he was a historian, physician, and lawyer! Again, nothing was labeled; we had to rely entirely on the brochure and the audioguide.

After some time at the hotel to rest our feet, we walked again, this time to dinner at Restaurant Erbenhof, across the Frauenplan from Goethe's house.

I started with carpaccio of ostrich with lettuce and parsley oil, braised pear, and Parmesan chips. Very much like beef, but leaner.

David chose smoked duck on sweet chili wok vegetables, ginger ragout, and peanut sauce.

My main course was roasted beef liver with braised apples, crispy fried onions, and mashed potatoes.

David's was the magnificent osso bucco (braised veal shank) with chocolate-covered celeriac, grilled sweet potato, and oven vegetables. I think the white stuff is celeriac; I'm not sure just where the chocolate came in.

Neither of our desserts looks like anything listed on the menu, but mine was clearly a pair of sorbets with various fruit sauces.

From appearances, and knowing David's proclivities, I'd say his might be panna cotta.