Dresden to Pittsburgh

Thabo

This young bull elephant, like me, is moving from Dresden to Pittsburgh's Highland Park neighborhood this month. Thabo attacked his keepers last year, injuring one of them severely, and needs a new home. The Pittsburgh Zoo down the street from Wellesley Rd. offered to take him, as they have a good herd of bull elephants, plenty of room, and, I guess, more courageous keepers. So he's being shipped in a giant crate later this month. Thabo, five, was born and raised in the Dresden Zoo, a result of artificial insemination (glad I wasn't there).

Such a cutie!

little Thabo-Umasai (his full name)

The Sächsische Zeitung in Dresden did an interview with me shortly before my departure, with the hook that both of us were soon leaving for Pittsburgh. They also asked me a lot of questions about what I have been doing in Dresden musically, and took pictures of me in the Professor's office, and in front of it with bassoon. We'll see what kind of article they come up with. Soon, I imagine.

Neighborhood connections: Hellerau-Plauen

Hellerau

Plauen

Hellerau and Plauen are neighborhoods in two opposite corners of Dresden which I visited in my last week here. I am writing this in the airport awaiting my flight back to the US. I chose to go there because the brochures about them put out by the local transit authority made them sound interesting. They were.

The brochures describe walking routes around the neighborhoods, pointing out interesting sights. The point is that by taking public transportation around Dresden, one can see really interesting stuff. I, of course, rode my bike, and found connections between the two places that were most interesting (to me), and probably not often noticed.

Hellerau row houses...

...and gardens.

Weisseritz gorge at Felsenkellerei brewery.

I visited them in alphabetical order. Plauen is a planned garden community, designed at the beginning of the beginning of the twentieth century after the model of English garden towns. It was intended to offer workers and others a place to live away from the noise and pollution of the city, and is in a peaceful, wooded area. The many distinctive row houses are tiny, but all are connected with small garden plots. Apple trees abound.  Near the edge of the community, the planners placed a public well and a linden tree, something that the brochure says is typical of small towns.

The designers also included provisions for artistic life. There is a large hall which was to serve as a performance space for dance and music, and Émile Jaques-Dalcroze was brought from Switzerland to lead a music and dance school. The hall now houses the European Center for the Arts, a festival of modern dance, music, and art. It was initially a hotbed of the avant-garde, but World War I soon stopped all further cultural life and development before it could really establish itself. In the Communist times, the hall and surrounding buildings housed Soviet soldiers and their gym.

The next day, I travelled to the Dresden area of Plauen. It was an industrial area with large millworks and a brewery, situated on the Weisseritz, a tributary to the Elbe. The Weisseritz goes through a spectacular gorge there, and the Felsenkellerei aged their beers in cool cellars dug into the rock. The brochure walk goes through woods and along the river and up the ridge and back into the town. In the town area of Plauen, the businessman Bienert, who ran the industry here, had a fountain built in honor of the German poet Wolfgang Müller (above). Probably because Bienert made his fortune primarily in milling, and the poet's name means "miller," and he wrote romantic poetry about millers.

Wolfgang Müller lived in the early nineteenth-century and is known now primarily because he wrote two cycles of poetry that Franz Schubert immortalized with his musical settings, Die schöne Müllerin and Die Winterreise. The fountain in Plauen shows the young miller hiking, with a quote from the first poem of Die schöne Müllerin at his feet: "Wandering is the miller's delight." And under that, you can see a millwheel.

The connection to Hellerau is seen in the first photo above: Die Winterreise's fifth song is called "The Linden Tree," and starts "At the fountain near the gate stands a linden tree." So Schubert and Müller unwittingly tie together these two Dresden neighborhoods, which didn't or barely existed when they wrote the songs. Nice performances on youtube for "The Linden Tree" with Schreier and Eschenbach:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=05E3cVI88hA
and "Wandering" with Pears and Britten:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eqgvp751if4

It has rained four days straight in Dresden, including the day of my departure. It was very sad to leave, but the bad weather made it easier. Maybe it was crying. But I'm going home.

Wrapping up.

Public art--Kollwitz portrait after her self-portraits.

As I get ready to leave Dresden in a couple days, one last bit of Kollwitz. Just about two blocks from me is the street that runs along the Elbe, called Käthe-Kollwitz-Ufer, or Käthe Kollwitz Embankment. In a posting last May, I wrote of Kollwitz's Dresden connection. Street namings are another aspect of that. The Käthe-Kollwitz-Ufer is the biggest one.

More pictures from this street.  The local electrical utility, Drewag, has a number of small transformer stations (I think they are) all over the city, and they are painted in a huge variety of ways, often in trompe-l'oeil style. Here's the one down the street. Incredibly well done. And no, the building is not made of bricks.

In another lifetime, I would go around the town seeking out and photographing all such stations.  They're all over, and quite wonderful.

a "prince" of a bike.

Sad news: I just sold my bicycle in preparation for leaving. I had bought it used soon after I got here, and it served me incredibly well. I practically lived on it. Rode it on average 7 days a week. Perfect for the cobblestones and often holey streets of Dresden. Sold it for cheap to my next-door neighbor, who bought it for his 15-yr-old son. I now have a real appreciation for mountain bikes, which I had previously disdained.

As for this blog, I do plan to add a little more to it after I get home Monday night. (Perhaps long after.) I would like to say a little more about the musical projects I have been working on in Dresden, which are ongoing. There is plenty more for me to do that I can handle online from Pittsburgh.

Der Freischütz by Weber

Saxon Switzerland

Composer Carl Maria von Weber was born in northwestern Germany not far from the Danish border. He spent the last ten years of his short life in southeastern Germany not far from the Czech border, as the Music Director of the Court Opera in Dresden. He lived in a house on the Elbe a bit upstream from the city, and is known to have enjoyed hiking in the Elbe Sandstone Mountains a little further up. These mountains, long ago dubbed the "Saxon Switzerland," are full of dramatic high cliffs with deep gorges. While composing his most famous opera, Der Freischütz, Weber found inspiration here for the Wolf's Glen scene during which the two characters cast the magic bullets at midnight, accompanied by all the horrors of hell. (See my May 23 posting for two of the ingredients for the magic bullets--the eyes!)

Backdrop to the Felsenbühne.

In the middle of this area, a natural bowl was turned into an open-air theater in the 1930s, called the "Felsenbühne," approximately Cliff Stage. I'm sure the primary inspiration for opening such a theater was the Wolf's Glen scene from Freischütz. It was made for that. And indeed, the opera is one of the most often-performed pieces at the Felsenbühne.

View toward upstage, where the bullets were cast (under the frame).

So last Sunday, I went. It was truly a spectacular experience. The production was quite true to the intentions of the composer and librettist--unlike most European opera productions these days. But here, how could you do otherwise? The biggest directorial conceit was to use picture frames of all sizes throughout the production. A picture falling from the wall figures in the plot of the opera. Unfortunately, I forgot my camera, so I had to make due with the lousy camera on my cell phone with its grimy lens.

The State Theaters of Saxony, which have productions across the state, run the Felsenbühne. Their orchestra plays, and the singers and production workers are employed by the State Theaters as well. Quite competently done, excellent wind playing in the orchestra, and the soloists were very good (but not great). It's certainly a tough venue to play. It threatened rain the whole time, and I learned that if it starts to rain, they stop the production for a few minutes (I guess to put on raincoats, etc.), and then continue. It didn't start.

The tuba is smokin'!

The state government of Saxony recently decided to save money by dissolving the orchestra of the State Theaters and folding it in with another orchestra (which is already the result of other dissolutions). In May, there was a big demonstration in front of the Parliament building downtown, and I was there. Lots of music, and speeches of course. The last I heard, the final decision was made to dissolve. But for some reason, there is hope for finding another solution. In any case, a lot of musicians' jobs are on the line, as not all can be saved by joining with another orchestra.

Back to the Felsenbühne. The show was a total thrill, seeing it performed right there where it happened.

VW ad

This post sponsored by Volkswagen:

Subtitles available.

(I don't mind plugging them, since they have a major new factory here in Dresden, and they support the arts here bigtime.)

Spreewald

The Spreewald is the forested area around the Spree River about halfway between Dresden and Berlin. Much of it is a nature preserve. The river, which flows through Berlin, has an especially flat incline in this area, so it is very slow moving, and there is an enormous network of canals. The area is not exactly a forest, though it is called one. Farmland, mostly.

Ladies on a flatboat in the town of Lübben munching on pickles.

Pickles. That's what it's known for throughout the land. They grow cucumbers, transport them on small, barge-like boats, and pickle them in various ways in gigantic wooden barrels. And everywhere you go in the area, it's pickles.

My German friends, the Weidners, invited me for a weekend up there in the Spreewald in mid-July. One day, we rented kayaks and paddled the river and canals (never sure which was which), and the other day, we did a bike ride, mostly on dykes between waterways and farmland. Stayed the one night at what was essentially a B&B run by a middle-aged woman on her grandparents' old farm. (She gave me a jar of you-know-what as a parting gift.)

One of many bike trails in the region. The Pickled Pedaler?

No, they don't have 43 words for pickle in Germany. Their word for pickle is Gurke, which is also their word for cucumber. If you need to be specific about it in German, you would precede "Gurke" with the word for the flavor of pickle (spice, garlic, etc.). The German word "Pickel" means pimple.

The waterways are interspersed by small locks, some of which you can operate yourself. Interesting to get to see how it all works.

To cap it all off, the highlight of the trip, the final sight before heading home was, yes, the.....

Pickle Museum!

Phoenix

It's been a long time since I've written, and of course the big thing that has happened in the meantime is my trip to play two concerti in Phoenix.  Or more accurately, at Arizona State in Tempe.  The concert went well and was well received and all that, but the main thing is that I got to Carolina's again after 18 years.  Worth the trip, and the wait.

It's hard to think of what else to say.  Most everyone was there.  It's always fun to play a concerto with orchestra, something I do on average about every 4-5 years.  I do feel a little funny when all those players are working just for me, it seems.  And I wonder (if not assume) if they're hating it and waiting for the service to be over so they can go home.  I do some of that when I'm accompanying a soloist, but usually I listen critically to the soloist and imagine how I would do up there.  So here was one of my rare opportunities to see. 

I remember from the first public performances I gave at the UNICEF Youth Concerts that I practically had to be pushed out the door onto the stage to play, I was so scared.  Now, it's more intellectual:  I tell myself I can do this, and I believe it.  Then I tell myself to just do it, and I walk out decisively and play.  Then, all the dumb things happen, but I won't go into that.  I know how much the audience likes it.  At least I think I do.

Carolina's hasn't changed in any way but prices.  Can't wait to go back.  Just west of the airport, if you're ever in Phoenix.  You could do it by taxi during a layover of a couple hours.

Freischütz formula

Das rechte Auge eines Wiedehopfs...

...das linke eines Luchses.

Probatum est!

another castle

Fifteen miles down the Elbe from Dresden is Meissen, with the Schloss Albrechtsburg (NOT ...berg), Germany's oldest castle (they claim).  Quite impressive.  Biked there today the long way, for a total of about 40 miles.  Toured the castle and cathedral, but didn't go to the porcelain factory.

Saw a wonderful sign within the castle area, just across from the side of the castle cathedral:  "Historical Prison, with building permits, for lease or sale."  I want to put in an offer, and when they ask what I plan to do with it, say "Keep prisoners there, of course."

I'm calling time on my last quiz.  No entries, no winners.  Constance probably thought it was too easy.  It was.  Google could solve it for you in .00017 seconds.  The answer is (a), Eisenberg.  The extra credit part was harder, and I was hoping someone could find the real answer and tell me, so I could confirm my theory:  note the year, 1934, when the name of the town was changed from Eisenberg to Moritzburg (to match the name of the major landmark there, I said).  Seems obvious to me that the Nazis decided to do this because Eisenberg sounded too Jewish to them.  But I didn't find any evidence to confirm the idea.  I still think it's right.

Moritzburg, Kollwitz, (quiz???)

Schloss Moritzburg

Roughly 12 miles from Dresden is a little town out in the farmland called Moritzburg, named for the eponymous castle which was a hunting "lodge" for the 17th-18th century Dresden monarchs.  Took a little trip out there recently.  Absolutely idyllic, gorgeous castle in the middle of a lake, accessible over causeways.

Rüdenhof, where Käthe Kollwitz died, with Moritzburg Lake in the background.  She had a good view.

Across the street from the lake is a house named the Rüdenhof which is now a memorial and museum to the artist Käthe Kollwitz, who spent her last year there as a war refugee from Berlin, and died in her room there on 22 April 1945.  What I learned: I knew that she had a Dresden connection, as "Käthe Kollwitz Street" runs along the left bank of the Elbe for several miles, just a couple blocks away from my apartment.  But I didn't know the details--that she came to Moritzburg as a refugee after her apartment in Berlin was destroyed in bombings in 1943, and died there at age 77.

self portrait

She had lived a fairly good life as a well-respected artist, married to a doctor.  This in spite of official disapproval of her work by the Nazis.  But most of her best known work came earlier.  I don't know lots about her, but it seems my older image of her as a poor, starving woman comes more from her work, and less from her own life.  She did lose a son to WWI, however, and wartime loss and privation is certainly consistent with what I knew of her influences and aesthetic.

In 1934, the town containing the Moritzburg Castle was re-named "Moritzburg" to match the town's dominating landmark.  Here's the quiz:  What was its former name, the name it had carried for centuries?

     (a) Eisenberg
     (b) Freiburg
     (c) Herzberg
     (d) Pitzburg

For extra credit, WHY was it renamed?

Answer someday.

more funny German stuff (in my opinion)

This is a little poster on a lamp post down the street from me, left over from the February, 2011 demonstrations I wrote about at the time.  And the more I look at this, the funnier it gets.

It wants people to listen to Schönberg instead of Wagner, I take it because Wagner was beloved by Nazis and Schönberg wasn't, and was Jewish.  It shows an image of an Egon Schiele portrait of Schönberg and a well-known standard one of Wagner (whose painter I don't know).  The blue circle at the left edge calls people out to counter-demonstrations against the neo-nazis.  It even uses typography to help make its point.

My god.  People should listen to Schönberg over Wagner?  Sure, they're both great composers, but 99% + of the demonstrators would certainly prefer Wagner's music if they heard both back to back.  If they've even heard of them.  Totally silly.

Then I noticed the little line at the bottom of the sign saying who put it out.  Using lots of abbreviations, it seems to come from the anti-fascist committee of the student council of the Dresden Conservatory of Music.  Great.  Good left-wing students, as is expected in German universities.  And just as thoughtful as you'd expect, too.

Prague, and other news

Statue of Franz Kafka in front of the Spanish Synagogue in Prague.

Visited Prague for a few days.  It's only a couple hours from Dresden by train, and there was a group from the Bay Area come to do the Mozart Requiem there.  Since I knew a few people involved, it was a good excuse to get there and see some things.  I had been there twice before in previous trips with the Symphony, each time for under 24 hours.  About time to spend some real time there.

Artist at Music Institute Library in Prague painting an allegory of music on the ceiling.

It's gorgeous.  Pretty like Dresden, but much larger.  Not an ugly building in sight.  Of course, it suffered little damage in the war, so didn't need to be re-built.  Couldn't help whistling Smetana while crossing the bridges over the Moldau, or returning to my hotel near the Vysehrad.  Of professional interest, there is a new book by a Czech musicologist named Kapsa about Baroque music and musicians at the court of Count Morzin.  Morzin was a friend of Vivaldi to whom the composer dedicated one of his many bassoon concerti (and all four of his Seasons).  One of the composers discussed in the book is Reichenauer, who wrote a number of concerti for oboe and/or bassoon.  I'll be doing one of his double concerti in Phoenix this June.  Unfortunately for me, the book is in Czech, with only a brief summary chapter in English.  But it contains catalogs of several of the composers' works, which is very useful.  Bought several copies--for me and some Dresden friends.  Went on a wild goose chase looking for Mr. Kapsa himself, only to determine that he was on vacation.  Finally reached him by email, and we'll get together should I ever go back to Prague.

What's the name of this restaurant?

You can practice your days of the week in Czech.

Praguers do funny things, too.  I noticed this restaurant, and wondered why they didn't include the name of the restaurant on the sign.  I finally found the name on a small paper in the front door (you can barely see it in the above picture).  And I figured out why they didn't put it up in lights:













 In other news, I'm starting to get serious about practicing the bassoon.  Like every day.  And I've learned that the first "wave" of Dresden Baroque music to be published in the project I'm working on will consist of eight volumes.  The first is the bassoon concerto collection, and there are seven others I'm not sure of.  One of them will be a pair of early Baroque "opera-ballets," which contain stylistic elements from Italy, France, and Germany.  I know this because I translated the foreword of the volume into English.  There may also be some sacred cantatas, and I don't know what else.  There is some delay in the technical side of getting this material onto the web and accessible to the public.  Not my department.  The second "wave" of scores to be published will contain a volume of oboe concerti which I am working on, and perhaps a volume of double concerti, since there are many of those in the library.  This wave is even more up in the air. 

answers to "next quiz"

Me in my apartment.

Answers to the previous quiz:  A-2, B-4, C-1.  Or 1-C, 2-A, 4-B, if you will.  There was no prison pictured.

No, the synagogue and the library are not by the same architect, though they look extremely similar.  The synagogue is on the site of the old Semper synagogue, destroyed on 9 November 1938.  No windows to break on its god-awful replacement.

Prize once again goes to Constance, who claims to have used her computer to help solve it.  But this is all on computer, so is that cheating?  Dad also figured out one of them.  Besides the glory, Constance, what would be an appropriate prize?

Haven't thought up another quiz for this time.

Recently spent some time with a German book called "Jewish Wit," or something like that.  First published in 1960 with the express purpose of trying to bring Germans and Jews closer together.  650 pages of humor from (or about) all ages, including the Nazi time:

A Jew goes to the courthouse and asks the clerk if he can get his name changed legally.  "Only in extenuating circumstances," says the clerk.  "What is your name?"

"Adolf Stinkfuss," says the Jew.

"Oh, I see.  And what do you want to change it to?"

"Moritz Stinkfuss."

next quiz

A

B

 

 

 

C

Match the photo with the correct Dresden building.  One name needs to be discarded.

(1) Library
(2) Police HQ
(3) Prison
(4) Synagogue

Answer soon.

Last quiz answer:  the store, Doppellotte, takes its name from Das doppelte Lottchen by Erich Kästner.  The two names mean essentially the same thing:  "Double Lotte" (Lotte is a name short for Charlotte).  It was written in the late 1940s by Dresden favorite-son author Kästner, a writer of mostly light fiction.  (On the more serious side, I can highly recommend his Fabian.)  Intended for the cinema, Double Lottie has been filmed several times in German and in English, the most recent of which is The Parent Trap by Disney, featuring the young and talented Lindsay Lohan playing the roles of both twins who were separated at birth.

Congratulations to Constance, who figured out part of the answer, and submitted the only response.  She noticed the "Doppel" in the store name, figured it meant "Double," and thus referred to twins.  And she knows The Parent Trap, though I'm not sure why.

funny things Germans do

Remember Fidelio F. Finke Street?  (See 20 December 2010.)  Well...through my connections, I was led into the music department offices of the big library -- closest I've come to the actual manuscripts I'm working on.  And there hanging in the hallway was a set of pastels of scenic designs for Finke's 1960 opera, Der Zauberfisch, or The Magic Fish.  Whipped out my camera and took a couple shots.  (This is the good one.)  Finke was a favorite composer of the communist East German regime.  Born elsewhere, he lived, worked, and died in Dresden.

Look who's selling cars these days!  I've also seen him pitching a cola brand.  I guess the famous photo of him is out of copyright.  In case you can't see it well, it's Che Guevara, the revolutionary.  And Dacia must be a make of car we don't have.

Right down the street from the German Hygiene Museum is the "Ace Beer Bar."  Here's a picture.  After I had taken no more than 2 or 3 shots, a lady came out of the "Ass" and chased me away, asking what I was "so eagerly photographing."












Speaking of hygiene (and protection)--the one on the right is "extra wet," by the way:

They love Asian food here in Germany.  Most of it, regardless of type, is prepared by Vietnamese emigres.  Here's a great offer.  The Schwein Yaki costs 5.50 Euros, in case you can't read the price.

And finally, a quiz.  Here's a photo of a store in the Neustadt neighborhood of Dresden.  Doppellotte.  Your question is:  what does this store have to do with the stupid 1990s Disney comedy, "The Parent Trap?"  No, the store doesn't appear in the film, in any way.  Answer next time I get around to writing.

13 February 2011

A couple of quick speeches at the Rathaus...

I woke up today to an inch or two of new snow with freezing temperatures, and went to the human chain demonstration called by the mayor for 2 pm.  Here is a view of the chain looking down Saint Petersburg St., where I had taken a photograph to illustrate yesterday's blogg post.  Note snow, and human chain.

...and people set out to take their places.

I personally saw no evidence of any right-wingers at all.  I may have been somewhat confused, because there are calls for another demonstration against neo-nazis to be held next Saturday the 19th, for no apparent reason of anniversary or whatever that I can tell.  A "solemn vigil" has been called "against right-wing extremists" from 11 to 5 that day:  http://www.dresden.de/de/02/035/mahnwachen.php?shortcut=mahnwachen  But I have read that there was to be a "funeral march" through the old part of town by the neo-nazis today.

So nothing to terribly earth-shattering about today's 66th anniversary vigil.  At least nothing likely to make American news.  Except for me -- I was there.  Here is one of the most understated monuments I have ever seen, between the paving stones in the middle of the Old Market square in the middle of town (where the Christmas market is held, among many other things):

"After the air attacks on Dresden of 13-14 Feb 1945, the bodies of 6865 human beings were cremated here."

13 February 1945

We are at the 66th anniversary of the destruction of Dresden in the last year of World War II.  The anniversary is obviously a major event here every year. The destruction was far and away more devastating than Dresden's military importance warranted (though the importance was apparently not negligible).  The Americans and British sent bombers to destroy the city and help break the spirit of the German people. Kurt Vonnegut witnessed it from the relative safety of a slaughterhouse a mile or so from downtown, where he was a POW.  From my vantage point 66 years later, I do have some observations.

The above photo is the iconic one of the destroyed city.  Photographer Richard Peter climbed the tower on the Rathaus, which miraculously was spared destruction, and stood behind the statue on top for this shot.  The destruction of the city center was, as you can see, total.  Pictures taken a couple years later, after the rubble had been removed, show wide open fields in what was once dense city, sometimes with flocks of sheep grazing and shepherds tending.  I have spent rather little time searching the internet for this, but I'm sure there exists a map showing the extent of the destruction.  I do know that it extended into and well beyond my neighborhood of Johannstadt.  By the way, a few years ago, the Rathaus tower was renovated, and a gilded statue placed on top:

The other day, Lisa and I went on the Kurt Vonnegut tour of Dresden, primarily at the big former slaughterhouses north of downtown near the Elbe.  It's run by a small tour organization, and can be booked for a reasonable price here:  http://www.kurtvonnegut-tour.com/

Our guide, Danilo, was remarkably informative, with lots of information on the history of the destruction, the numbers of the dead (and the controversies surrounding the number), and of course, Vonnegut's place in it.  The giant slaughterhouse complex was built around 1910, and was "decommissioned" some years ago.  It is now the fairgrounds for trade fairs in Dresden, and is still in flux -- partly still evolving into fairgrounds and a hotel, partly (and slowly) being renovated for historical interest, and partly being used for a large annual modern art exhibition called the Ostrale.  Danilo's group has gotten them to open the one cellar still in existence to show visitors on his tours.  He has convinced them to put up a plaque that says "Slaughterhouse 5," and hopes eventually to get a small Vonnegut museum placed there.  The cellars were used as cool storage for animal carcasses prior to processing, and it is where the POWs were housed.  It cannot be said with certainty that the one that is open is exactly where Vonnegut stayed, but it is close enough. 

In general, the slaughterhouse complex now looks eerily like a former concentration camp (or not so eerily, if you're from PETA).  The giant indoor stockyards seem to have guard towers, and there are scary looking smokestacks and creepy buildings you can't go into.  We'll see what it looks like in another decade or so.  The renovations here lag way behind other re-building being done in the inner city since reunification.

Pillnitzer Str.

St. Petersburg Str.

Which brings me to another subject:  the massive bombing 66 years ago certainly wiped out the city, but in four decades, the communist dictatorship was unable to rebuild very much.  They built housing and basic infrastructure, but didn't have the "Kapital" to rebuild much of the historic stuff.  The Semper Opera House, they did.  The Frauenkirche (Church of Our Lady) had to wait until the capitalists took over.  So this latter basic completion to the famous Dresden skyline had to wait until 2004 (though I do agree with the communists' priorities).  But what you see now is a very odd city.  The central old city has been about 3/4 rebuilt with restored or reconstructed buildings that match or imitate in modern style what used to be there, and mostly since reunification.  But beyond downtown is a very different landscape.  Often you see one 5-6 story apartment building after another, with oddly wide streets and enormous open spaces almost like giant front yards, often planted with fairly young trees.  The picture above is just outside of downtown.  I can only imagine the city was once more densely built than that.  Downtown, the old St. Petersburg St. is relatively bare.  In contrast, West German cities were more uniformly and organically rebuilt.  Overall a better plan.

I remember from listening to East German radio in the early 80s that they never missed an opportunity to note the destruction of Dresden "by Anglo-American bombers."  They never mentioned, of course, that the East Germans' great friend, the Soviet Union, did indeed push for the bombing of Dresden during the war.  Is all history revisionist?

I am writing this on Saturday the 12th.  Tomorrow, the anniversary of the bombings, will have big demonstrations downtown.  The neo-nazis are descending from all over to memorialize the huge numbers of innocent Germans killed in the war.  They were victims, too.  The neo-nazis plan a big march.  But at least as far as the publicity that I am aware of indicates, their march will be dwarfed by a human chain demonstration surrounding the inner city:  http://13februar.dresden.de/de/menschenkette.php
I plan to be a part of it.  It is being called for by a huge coalition, starting with Mayor Helma Orosz.  Unfortunately, last Monday she had surgery to remove a breast tumor, so she will be represented by the Vice Mayor.  The University is a big organizer of the event, and religious and union groups are also involved (including the Jewish community).  There is a big controversy, as well as plenty of uncertainty, as to the legalities in such protests, and what the police will be doing.  Last year, apparently, the police did not protect the neo-nazi demonstration from counter-demonstrators.  I don't know exactly what happened, but it lead to a court case where it was just ruled that the neo-nazis had the right to demonstrate peacefully, and the police should have protected them.  I am hearing that this year, the police will protect the neo-nazi demonstration, to the displeasure of most, and probably to the anger of the far left protesters.  I expect to be far from any clashes that might occur, though I predict little real problem.  Germany has laws against certain Nazi symbols and rhetoric, though political parties can be about as far right as they want.

One of the long-standing controversies is over the number of civilians killed here 66 years ago.  An official commission recently thoroughly investigated the matter and decided that the true figure lies between 25,000 and 32,000 people.  The neo-nazis of course use an inflated figure, in spite of the commission's finding.  And figures up to 300,000 have been used practically from the start.  What can one say?  Is 30,000 people burnt alive better than 300,000?  Of course.  Did the Germans have it coming?  I learned that the Geneva Conventions didn't get around to "banning" targeting of civilians like that until the 1970s.  The answer for some people is that the event was a horrible thing, not justified, but also not entirely wrong.  It was a terrible time in our history.