Wednesday, 22 May 2024 Weimar: Its republic, the Wittums Palace, and nearby Erfurt

Written 7 August 2024

First, interesting things learned from Gritta and Leon: Storks don't fly in formation, whereas cranes do. Cranes always fly in asymmetrical formation, whereas geese are more symmetrical. Good to know.

Today, we started off toward the Wittums Palais, where Anna Amalia lived when she went from regent to dowager, and the Nietzsche Archive. I was like, "Seriously? Nietzsche?," but David was interested because of his interest in WWII history. Something about how his writings had been misinterpreted/misrepresented by the Nazis.

The palais is just off the Theaterplatz, in front of the Weimar opera house and theater, location of the famous double statue of Goethe and Schiller passing on the way the famous double statue of Goethe and Schiller. That's the opera behind it. When it was erected, it was the only such double statue in Germany.

We had made better time than we expected, so we were early for the palais, which didn't open until 10 am. It was raining, so we decided just to pop into the Museum of the Weimar Republic next door, to see if we could kill a few minutes there. We wound up getting hooked, spent a while watching its introductory movie and then lots more time exploring its exhibits, which were really interesting!

I had always held the usual stereotypical view of the Weimar Republic as a time of unbridled hedonism and debauchery, leading to eventual hyperinflation and downfall, and apparently a certain amount of that hedonism and debauchery did go on among the rich and idle. And of course, hyperinflation did become a problem, one of the things Hitler came to power by promising to fix. But in many ways, during its duration, 1918&mdasn;1933, Germany was really cooking.

The republic arose out of a revolution that had its seeds in a naval mutiny in 1918. WWI was all but lost, and ships in Kiel and Wilhelmshaven, which had been standing idle, were suddenly ordered to rush into a suicidal confrontation with the allied navies that no one believed they could win. The sailors just refused to go, and the rebellion spread fron there.

Revolutionaries often spread their messages by means of fliers duplicated on earlier copy machines like the one at the right above. It wasn't clear to me whether this machine was a ditto machine or a real mimeograph. The result was the overthrow of the monarchy in favor of a democratic republic. The capital remained in Berlin, but apparently much of the work of forming the republic, writing a constitution, shaping the country's future took place in Weimar.

Under the republic, health and safety in the workplace were given greater importance. The workplace poster at the left screams "Pay attention! Do not removed chips by hand!" Another information panel quotes Article 18 of the constitution: "Every German is entitled, within the bounds set by general law, to express his opinion freely in word, writing, print, image or otherwise. No work or employment obligation may obstruct him in exercising this right; nobody may put him at a disadvantage if he makes use of htis right. There is no censorship . . . ."

The photo at the right shows examples of ways electrification changed home life. The case displays an electric lamp, a hand-held hair dryer that looks alot like the ones you see today, an electric iron, and an electric vaccuum cleaner.

Ingenuity boomed. The photo at the right shows a table-top vending machine to be used in cafés, shops, and trains. A chocolate truffle cost 10 pfennigs.

In response to increased need after the WWI, research increased into improved prosthetic devices, like the one a the right.

This display case features a number of inventions that emerged during the Weimar Republic. "Matchbox" type model cars, Uhu (an all-purpose adhesive), disposable tissues, Transplast adhesive bandages (the first band-aids), and Dr. Oetker brand baking products. The Oetker package in the photo is vanilla pudding, which I've never tried, but I still use Oetker packets of, e.g., whipped cream stabilizer and unflavored gelatin!

At the right is an advertisement for Tempo brand "disposable handkerchiefs" made of cellulose.

During the 15 years of the Weimar Republic, Germans pulled down 17 Nobel Prizes. But when Hitler came to power in 1933, everything changed. Notably, the German intellectual elite left the country in droves.

Also included in the exhibit, reminding us of the lasting deprivations that followed WWI, and the crippling war debts Germany suffered under, is this case of Borden's evaporated milk, tonbs of which was sent from the US to help ensure good nutrition for German children.

Even the free lockers in which we could leave our hats, coats, and other impedimenta were educational. Instead of numbers, each one bore the name of a notable person from the Weimar Republic period. Ours was Elly Beinhorn (1907–2007, pioneering German female aircraft pilot). Nearby were Georg Bernhard (1874–1944, newspaper editor and Reichstag member) and Otto Dix (1861–1969, painter and printmaker).

By the time we could tear ourselves away from the Weimar Republic, the Wittums Palais (Dowager Palace) was open. Under the stairs in the front hall was Anna Amalia's sedan chair.

At the right is David, listening to his audioguide in the dining room.

The little table at the left here can be folded out twice, once to become a dressing table with a fold-up mirror and again to become a drawing table with a slanted surface, tripling its area in all.

The bust at the right is a portrait of Anna Amalia's son Karl August. Nothing indicated how old he was when it was made.

The house is well endowed with keyboard instruments. At the left here is Anna Amalia's music room, with what I assume is a harpsichord and a harp.

At the right is the house's "concert hall," which currently houses two instruments. The piano on the right belonged to Franz Liszt, who was Kapellmeister in Weimar. He left the instrument here when he left for Rome in 1861. It has an "English mechanism." The other one is a pianoforte, produced in the workshop of Friedrich Hippe of Oberweimar.

Here's yet another, a piano, maker unknown, that was donated to the Weimar collection in 2016 by the Buscher family. It has the characteristics of Viennese instruments of Beethoven's era.

And at the right here, a wider view of the opera house, with the double statue in front.

Among the things we learned from the audioguide are that Wieland was the first to come to Weimar, hired by Anna Amalia in the 1770's as a tutor for Karl August. Goethe arrived in 1775, invited by the young duke, who had just attained his majority and taken over from his mother. Goethe brought Herder to town, and Schiller showed up in 1799; he and Goethe had already been friends at the university in Jena.

Anna Amalia was a great writer of letters. She also translated Italian and English into French and German. She had been brought up bilingual in French and German but spoke many languages; French was her favorite. A visiting Frenchman even talked her into learning Greek. She wrote an opera with Goethe, called Erwin and Elmire; he wrote the lyrics, and she wrote the music. According to Wikipedia, it was based on Oliver Goldsmith's ballad of Angelica and Edwin, The Hermit, in his sentimental novel The Vicar of Wakefield.

By this time, it was time for lunch, and we had other plans for the afternoon, so poor Nietzsche got crowded out. We repaired to Café-Restaurant Anno 1900, which had these beautiful etched-glass doors (left) and well-worn old leather chairs (right).

I think Leon got this shot of Gritta and me grinning over our plates.

And well we might, as the braised ox cheeks and red cabbage were outstanding. The potato dumplings were, as usual, too heavy, gummy, and gelatinous to suit me.

Leon ordered this green pasta showered with arugula. I think the pesto on the pasta was also arugula. David's pasta was topped with asparagus ragout, arugula, and goat cheese.

From the restaurant, we walked to the car—Leon had found alternative parking after taking one look at the hotel's, tiny, cramped, and double-decker garage—and set out for nearby Erfurt, captital of Thüringia, and very old, dating from the 8th cdntury. Martin Luther was ordained there and spent time there as a monk before being transferred to Wittenberg.

On our way to the car, we passed this music school named for Johann Neopmuk Hummel. He was also a Kapellmeister in Weimar.

And I especially like this shot of weeds by the sidewalk, in which I captured, by my count, four different wildflowers and at least two grasses in bloom, plus, when I blow the picture up, what I think are some snail eggs. When we travel, I'm always snapping photos of passing weeds and flowers, and this trip was no exception. I haven't littered these pages too heavily with them, but if you're interested, let me know.

Here's the cathedral in Erfurt. I sighed heavily when I saw all those stairs up to the entrance. But to the left of the colorful little billboard advertising soft drinks was a small sign saying "wheelchair entrance" and pointing around to the right. So Leon and David headed up the stairs while Gritta and I followed the arrow around to the left. Big mistake. The "wheelchair" route led us way out of our way, up some some pretty rough and steep stone paths, and came out almost a story higher than the top of the stairs. We'd have gotten there faster if I'd just climbed the dratted stairs.

That brings up something I found strange and maybe a little embarrasing. Around Westminster Oaks, I'm accustomed to being among the fittest folks around and to being the one to be solicitous of little old ladies getting into and out of cars and helping them up over curbs and whatnot. On this trip, roles were reversed. Leon's a fast walker and doesn't always notice when he's left people behind; David mostly kept up with him, which accounts for all those photos in which David and Leon are far ahead of Gritta and me while approaching some scenic landmark. I was walking slower, especially because one of my shoes was delaminating, and Gritta always stayed back with me, as well as helping me in and out of the back seat of their car. As I say, strange, and a little embarrassing to be the big old lady of the group (I should be so lucky as to be a "little" old lady).

Once inside the cathedral, we admired this triptych, which seems to feature a lot of people wearing halos as well as a unicorn.

Here's the usual view down the nave of the cathedral, as well as the nearer view of the apse and altar. Very tall and narrow, without side aisles.

And the corresponding shot back toward the organ.

At the right is the Erthal-Obelisk, one of the oldest monuments in Erfurt. It stands in the square in front of the cathedral. It was built around 1777 to mark the first visit of Friedrih Karl Joseph von Erthal, Archbishop of Mainz and Erfurt city lord. It's made of sandstone, is 18 m high, and has been renovated several times, most recently in 2005.

From the cathedral, we strolled across the square (shown here with, once again, Leon and David up ahead leading the way) and through the picturesque old town to see the famous Krämerbrücke, a medieval arch bridge lined on both side with half-timbered shops and houses.

We walked along the river part of the way and crossed is several times. From one bridge, we spotted this shot (right) of two famous European cartoon characters (a blue bear and a yellow wolf, I think) in their yellow boat. The river must have been low, since their boat was supported on its posts at least a foot and a half above the surface.

Other views of the river were mor picturesque, though. Houses are built right up to the banks.

In the right-hand photo, probably too small to see, are half a dozen ducks and coots, using small snags sticking up from the bottom to rest against without being swept downstream by the rather fast current.

From another bridge, we got this shot of the "New Mill," its water wheel now cased in a greenhouse-like enclosure (the lower, dark-colored structure, but not the tiny one at the left).

And here David is, on the bridge. We walked over it and back, and at no point oculd you actually tell you were on a bridge. It was entirely lined on both sides with little eateries, lack shops, bookstores, etc.

On the way back to the car, we passed Erfurt city hall. The reason the two posts flanking the arches are so colorful is that they are entirely clad in compaign posters.

In front of city hall stands thist statue of St. Ronald on top of a tall column. I tried looking up St. Ronald but I couldn't find any connection to Erfurt or even Germany.

Here's a particuarly attractive set of façades. Too bad they are reduced to selling pizza and ice cream from their ground floors.

And I liked this whimsical fountain feature, at the right-hand side, the musicians of Bremen, two of them spouting water into the basin where all the little bronze people are lounging.

We got back to Weimar about 7 pm, only to find that both the restaurant we had chosen for the evening and its second-choice backup were unaccountably closed! So back to the good old Black Bear. We all had soups of various sorts to start.

My camera battery was running low, so I crowded all our entrées into one shot. Mine is at the lower left: succulent filets of wels catfish (Silurus glanis), roasted cherry tomatoes, and spinach all smothered in farfalle pasta in a white-wine cream sauce. Yummy.

Asparagus and noodles for Leon, a bratwurst and potatoes for David, and what looks like some sort of cutlets (possibly vegetarian) on asparagus ragout for Gritta.