The memorial, a discreet sign explained in four languages, was constructed sometime in the 1850s. It was damaged during the First and Second World Wars (Mozart bears a few bullet holes, as does Haydn's pedestal), and parts of it went missing. But, in true German spirit, the whole thing was restored in the decades following the cease-fire. They replaced the gilding and the missing swan's necks, made a new pedestal out of marble from the original quarry, and made an elegant little garden out of the area. It looks like it would be a nice place to have summer concerts.
If you look closely, you can see what looks like little black spots all over Herr von Beethoven's face. They're actually some sort of insect. Of the three composers honored, Beethoven was the least spotty.
6 comments:
I have never successfully stumbled across this monument! Thanks for taking the photos... sounds like you had an excellent ramble.
How lovely - and how fantastic to be free to wander without haste around a European city that has such resonance and beauty....and paradoxes.....I didn't know about that memorial.
Spent the afternoon in a darkened cinema, but in the company of Jonas, Bryn and Angela - the ROH broadcast of Tosca - o dio! Bryn was utterly astonishing - frightening and disgusting and palpitating with lust as Scarpia, but managing to convey how pathetic he is at heart because he knows he is ugly in every way, and sees what joy Mario and Floria have between them. Jonas was simply complete and beautiful in every way.......
@Lucy: You have to take a fairly roundabout route to get to it, but it just rises up out of the ground when you finally do. And yes, it was a most excellent ramble.
@shapta-dakini: This was taken on a Saturday, one of my few free days to wander, as you say, without haste. I make the most of it.
I really wanted to see that Tosca, but the theaters showing it were all on the opposite side of the city, well over an hour from me, and I don't like to be in East Berlin late at night. I wish they would just put it out on dvd so that I can be heartbroken in the comfort of my own house. Question: I hear they made JK take his shirt off. True or false?
false, false, false! During the overture to Act 3 a guard is shirtless while washing and putting on his uniform before the morning watch. Then Cavaradossi is dragged up by two other guards, weak and battered, and with all his clothes ON, including a horrible red waistcoat that he wears throughout and does nothing for him. I think the semi-naked guard is a little tease from the director - it is quickly apparent that he moves too easily and comfortably to be a tortured prisoner. HOwever, he is probably one of the most closely watched extras in opera history........The only naked flesh is Angela's cleavage and the guard's torso.
So, sorry. We really do have to focus on Jonas' voice and acting skills.......
I actually prefer the production where he is sleeping wrapped in a blanket and is kicked awake by the guard that he bribes with his ring - I thought that worked beautifully - and he was wearing a particularly fetching blue shirt...............
Yay, rambling!
The opening of Act III hasn't always been done that way when I've seen the Luc Bondy production, but I did find it very effective in the run with Kaufmann. I kept waiting for Cavaradossi to be led in, only to realize that the implausibly slight, frighteningly still figure covered by the tarp was he. *sniff* When I saw it, Cavaradossi only makes the painful effort of rising to his feet because the guard won't approach him... but then whips the ring out of the man's reach until he wins his assent to the bargain. *sob* Speaking of being heartbroken.
Sorry, Christie, we (or at least I) seem to have hijacked your Beethoven-in-the-Tiergarten post with Puccini.
@shapta-dakini & Lucy: You know, I'm actually really glad that he DIDN'T take his shirt off. It would've been completely inappropriate to the scene. And I agree that the waistcoat didn't do anything for him. I loved his production in the Luc Bondy production: I really wanted his coat!
The opening bit of Act 3 in the Bondy production, where he's lying under that blanket, staring at nothing, gets me like nothing else. It's cruel of the guard to kick him like that, when he's in so much pain. What did Scarpia do to him to make him hurt like that? Something about an iron band? Either way, Amnesty International would do a good job if they set up a collection box at the opera house after this show.
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