More Baroque Splendour
Remember Schloss Weißenstein, where the summer concerts take place? We went to another, and this time got a tour of the palace as well, which is really something to behold. Prince Bishop Lothar Franz von Schönborn wasn't stingy with his summer house. There's a Rubens inside you might not know, too.
To refresh your memory: Weißenstein, the summer residence in question, because Lothar Franz deemed the Bamberg one too damp and dingy. (In fairness, it wasn't the one you saw in earlier Bamberg pic spams. He had that one built, too. All in all, he built over 175 churches, residences and houses. When he died, the diocesis was broke, but it definitely looked very pretty.
When you enter, you get this view:
Raising your eyes in the stairwell, you see this:
But we won't enter the big concert hall yet. First, the galleries.
That's an Artemisia Gentileschi in the corner there:
As mentioned in earlier pic spams, the motto of every German Baroque residence was "we dig Versailles!" So of course there is a mirror cabinet:
Also very fashionable was anything Chinese. Or looking like it was:
And of course no Baroque art lover would miss out a Rubens. The prince bishop went for an unusual depiction of Rubens' wife and child, unusual because it's the same child, painted in different poses, not multiple children:
Then there's the "Golden Room":
And now for the hall where, then and now, exquisite concerts take place. (This time we heard Mozart, Beethoven and Dvorak.)
And here are the young artists and the conductor Jenö Nyari, taking a bow:
Lastly, something that happened to me yesterday during the break between the two halfs of the concert. Here I am, harmlessly chatting with a couple also attending the concert whom I've never met before, and for some reason, we briefly discuss The Madness of George III (subsequently retitled The Madness of King George for Americans). "Which one was he?" asks the wife, "the one diagnosed?" "Well, the only one diagnosed with madness,", says the husband and smiles. "Well," quoth I, "when one looks at the current prince of Hannover, madness hasn't left the family." "Ah yes," says the wife, who turns out to be a member of the nobility (a Castell-Castell) "cousin Ernst."
Yours truly, embarassed: "Sorry."
Husband (not a German, but a Brit): "Not at all. You're right, of course. Quite mad."
And on this note, I leave you, till I've watched the new Sherlock:
To refresh your memory: Weißenstein, the summer residence in question, because Lothar Franz deemed the Bamberg one too damp and dingy. (In fairness, it wasn't the one you saw in earlier Bamberg pic spams. He had that one built, too. All in all, he built over 175 churches, residences and houses. When he died, the diocesis was broke, but it definitely looked very pretty.
When you enter, you get this view:
Raising your eyes in the stairwell, you see this:
But we won't enter the big concert hall yet. First, the galleries.
That's an Artemisia Gentileschi in the corner there:
As mentioned in earlier pic spams, the motto of every German Baroque residence was "we dig Versailles!" So of course there is a mirror cabinet:
Also very fashionable was anything Chinese. Or looking like it was:
And of course no Baroque art lover would miss out a Rubens. The prince bishop went for an unusual depiction of Rubens' wife and child, unusual because it's the same child, painted in different poses, not multiple children:
Then there's the "Golden Room":
And now for the hall where, then and now, exquisite concerts take place. (This time we heard Mozart, Beethoven and Dvorak.)
And here are the young artists and the conductor Jenö Nyari, taking a bow:
Lastly, something that happened to me yesterday during the break between the two halfs of the concert. Here I am, harmlessly chatting with a couple also attending the concert whom I've never met before, and for some reason, we briefly discuss The Madness of George III (subsequently retitled The Madness of King George for Americans). "Which one was he?" asks the wife, "the one diagnosed?" "Well, the only one diagnosed with madness,", says the husband and smiles. "Well," quoth I, "when one looks at the current prince of Hannover, madness hasn't left the family." "Ah yes," says the wife, who turns out to be a member of the nobility (a Castell-Castell) "cousin Ernst."
Yours truly, embarassed: "Sorry."
Husband (not a German, but a Brit): "Not at all. You're right, of course. Quite mad."
And on this note, I leave you, till I've watched the new Sherlock:
