After spending the better part of the day perusing the dreamy Vienna Christkindlmarkts and drooling over gorgeous architecture, it was time to check out the Klimt Museum.
I have long had an affinity for the art of Klimt, since discovering him years ago while appreciating other works of the art nouveau style he had been a part of for a time.
I couldn’t take my camera in, but I can tell you it was quite something to be in a building he used to spend hours in, teaching and painting.
The collection was fairly large, consisting of a great number of sketches and a few overwhelming murals. I bought a few books, and was given a free German language, colour illustrated Klimt biography.
Though it does not house the largest collection of Klimt works in the world, the museum is a place Klimt himself had a hand in creating and designing – see the beautiful golden dome behind my head in the above photo? That was Klimt’s idea.
It wasn’t cheap to get in, but if you love Klimt, you need to go.
I decided to head back to my temporary home to have a rest and find some warmer clothes for the evening. I planned to peruse some churches, and knew I would be out for a while enjoying the evening Christmas cheer. I needed to get warm!
Not that my accommodations were…
I didn’t want to disturb the overall environment, so I decided to try to keep my mess to just one of the many antique-y rooms. It was a bit drafty even indoors, but I should have expected that, it was an old building and Vienna DOES get winter, after all.
It wasn’t just the old furnishings and unusual electric and water systems that threw me off. It was also what I was rooming WITH.
My host was a collector. A collector of many interesting things.
There were a number of additional rooms filled with strange and unusual items. My personal favourite was what I called the Marilyn/demon room.
At first it looks like Marilyn is flashing a pose in front of a large, quaint old painting – until you take a closer look and realize what the painting is a depiction of…
Demons fighting over procreation rights with beautiful, mostly naked women (many of whom happen to be happily brandishing whips and the like).
It looked like a classic. Painted impeccably. I couldn’t find out anything about it with my research – and didn’t mention finding it to my host. The doors were unlocked, and I had free reign of the apartment – but technically I was snooping.
…and maybe I was afraid of the answer!
“Why Ana, I am glad you asked! That is my ceremonial painting. I am actually an agent of the devil, and once yearly on a waning moon, myself and the other elders sacrifice young virgins – AFTER violently deflowering them. Why do you ask?”
No, I didn’t want to know.
I would discover, while visiting for tea, that my host was a collector of signs as well as paintings (and other nicknackery). His home was full of interestingly displayed artworks, including a plethora of old neon and porcelain signs.
A genius and a collector.
Being from the warm climate of southern British Columbia, Canada – where we rarely get snow, it was a bit of a struggle to find something warm to wear, so I wore everything warm that I had.
Somehow I didn’t expect (or forgot how to imagine) the cold. Fortunately my spring weather trench coat was big enough to layer 2 sweaters underneath, and after purchasing a scarf and small pair of gloves, I was warm enough to continue on comfortably for the rest of my tour.
Now to explore some gothic churches… (continued).