First, to explain. I am not, nor have I ever been, a big fan of the approach, well-established among some Jewish groups who approach Europe by presenting it as a great big graveyard whose value is solely as a prelude to a trip to Israel. Obviously, I chose to make it my life's work to engage with Europe and its Jewish life as a living, breathing thing rather than a prelude to its own destruction.
That said, for the same reason it is impossible for me to walk around places like Prague and Vienna and not, at just about every moment, be reminded of the devastation that has taken place, of the fact that an integral, rich, and organic part of this world was viciously cut out, for the most part with gratuitous cruelty only a few decades ago -- just thirty years before my birth. Part of the reason is I know in intricate detail the richness of this world; it is what drew me to the life and career I have chosen. You can't sit for hours of the day in archives sifting through the living documents of people who lived in and walked on the very streets Toby and I have wandered every day without feeling an unresolvable sense of loss.
I find it hard to understand how people really "enjoy" traveling around here. I benefit deeply from coming here, but, try as I might, I just can't wrap my head around this being a place for a pleasure holiday. I think that may be why, after about three days in any of these cities, I become more and more irritable, wading through groups of people for whom strolling these beautiful streets is a laugh, a great place to party, or whatever. I've watched things like Rick Steve's shows on Central Europe, how he talks in such blithe tones about the good shopping, the neat sites and wonderful cuisine not to be missed, and I honestly can't relate to this approach.
This is not to say that I fault or blame people who DO enjoy visiting Central Europe this way, just that I can't really share that feeling.
Alright. Toby and I took one of our tiulim this evening, and although it was a day late, I cannot think of a more fitting observance of Yom Ha-Shoah. Part of the reason we came here was to document the sense of urban space as lived in Jewish history, to gain access to the places about which I write as a "walker in the city," as a person seeing the world as it was seen by my subjects.
And, in a place like Vienna, a major part of this, the sacred life of Jewish Vienna -- the life of the synagogue -- is all but impossible. That is because on one evening (ONE evening), November 9-10, 1938, every synagogue in Vienna (with the exception of the Seittenstettengasse synagogue) was destroyed.
To say this as a fact is not new. But what it means, what it REALLY means in terms of space, plaster, bricks, wood, sacred objects, Torah scrolls -- to say nothing of the lives of those who came to the places week after week, who celebrated the major events of their lives in them, or even the most mundane acts of piety (or lack thereof) -- is hard to conceptualize.
So here is my feeble attempt: by photographing the space where some of these buildings -- among them the most impressive and ornate synagogues not just of Vienna but of Central Europe and beyond -- once stood.
What is in their place? Where once stood buildings renowned for their architectural daring, innovation, beauty -- what is there now?
Below are three synagogues then, and now.
1. The Pazmanitentempel. Designed by Ignaz Reiser, built 1910, it was intended to be the modern masterpiece, the jewel among Vienna's many synagogues. The plans are here, and now what stands in its place: a functional, 1950s era block of apartments (the one in the middle is the actual spot where the shul stood). A
small plaque marks the site's former occupant, at 6 Pazmanitenstrasse.2. The Polnische Shul.
Built 1892, designed by Wilhelm Stiassny, a renowned Central European architect who also designed Prague's Jerusalemska Synagogue. A period picture, and what now stands in its place: a functional, 1950s era block of apartments. A small plaque marks the sites former occupant at 29 Leopoldgasse.
3. The Leopoldstadt Temple. The crown jewel of the Vienna Cultusgemeine synagogues, this building, designed by noted architect Ludwig Foerster and built in 1858, while not the "first" synagogue of Vienna in terms of importance, was certainly the first in terms of design, modernity and fashion. It was situated near Praterstrasse on Templegasse, a stone's throw from the canal, and literally dominated the blocks surrounding it. Although one may see traces of this building in Foer
ster's other synagogues, such as the Central Synagogue in New York and the Dohany Synagogue in Budapest, the Leo
poldstadt Temple was unique and, to me, its absence speaks volumes. Now there are modern buildings situated there, including a schoolyard for a heder -- thus I had to take my pictures somewhat on the sly, so as not to alarm the teachers and guards. The empty space and part of the glass building next to it, 3-5 Templegasse, are on the site where this magnificent building once stood.These are just the few we photographed. The list is much more extensive. Dozens of established synagogues, even more private Bethaeuser, all now gone, their memory, almost gone.
When one tries to grasp the fact that these monumental buildings were destroyed entirely on one night, the sheer awfulness of the history of the last seventy years starts to sink in. The amount of human effort that had to go in to burning these buildings, tearing them down brick by brick, is simply staggering.
Now there is a real hollowness about this place.
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