This museum was founded on the Ringstrasse in the late 1860s. The Ringstrasse replaced the old city walls of Vienna, demolished by order of the Emperor, and replaced with grand and stately government and private buildings, spacious park-like grounds, wide sidewalks and the boulevard itself, as it does today. I only had a single afternoon while we were in the city on vacation, but I took myself to the Kunsthistoriches Museum alone, knowing very little about it Most times, when visiting a city I've at least read a bit about it or have a small store of information about the city and its museums but I blush to admit that I arrived there with only a rudimentary knowledge of the KHM. It faces the Natural History Museum, which has an identical facade, and was intended to house the Habsburg art collection, accumulated over the centuries of the dynasty.
The entry level isn't so grand as say, the Metropolitan or the Louvre, but once inside the building all I could say was "Wow." The central staircase takes you up to the main galleries, but the columns, the ceilings, and a riot of marble and color were almost overwhelming. You ascend the central staircase, thence up one or the other flanking stairs to the galleries. Also at that level is the cafe, about which more later on.
View on the landing Kunsthistorisches Museum, Vienna |
Antonio Canova, "Theseus Slaying the Centaur" 1819 |
I climbed the imposing stairs and in gallery after gallery, found familiar paintings here and there, and more importantly I had the chance to see pieces that were completely new to me. There are a lot of works by Rubens plus the other artists mentioned above. In particular "The Fur," from the 1630s, a portrait of his second wife Helene Fourment emerging from the bath is a picture I've liked for years but hadn't known was in Vienna. This is a very personal work by Rubens and displays his enormous talent and his faultless eye. Unlike a lot of his huge studio works (not my cup of tea, mostly), this is one that I truly enjoy. And I had no idea it was in this museum.
"The Fut" 1638 by Peter Paul Rubens |
Pieter Breughel the Elder "Tower of Babel," ca 1560 |
Perhaps the most important work I saw (and didn't expect) was "The Art of Painting," by Johannes Vermeer. As was the case with other works in this delectable museum, I have seen the image many times--a painter and his model, the painter seen from behind in a sumptuous studio--but didn't know that it has been in the KHM since the end of World War II.
Johannes Vermeer, "The Art of Painting," 1665-1668 |
Despite being large, imposing, and full of masterworks, the KHM seemed nearly empty during the several hours I spent there. As I mentioned above, the European galleries were quiet and uncrowded. Unlike, say the Louvre or the Metropolitan Museum in New York, which are consistently mobbed, the KHM provided the opportunity to contemplate the work without being shoved, bumped, included in twenty selfies, or simply moved along by the bustling. It brought back fond memories of the early seventies and eighties.
After spending a great deal of time in the Northern European section, and taking any number of execrable photographs, my feet were tired and my eyes and mind overworked. At that point I took myself to the cafe for a bit of refreshment. Unlike cafes in some metropolitan museums, particularly in the United States, which have all of the charm of a factory lunchroom, the cafe at the KHM is frankly elegant. It resides below the dome in an expansive area in a daylight-flooded space surrounded by beautifully executed decorations and fine marble. Exceptionally civilized.
Cafe at the KHM |
To my surprise, the KHM also has a substantial holding of works by one of my favorite painters, Diego Velazquez. In fact, there is a room containing perhaps ten or so. At first I wondered why the works of a Spanish master are in Vienna, but the answer is obvious once you remember that the monarchy which was served by Velazquez was a branch of the Habsburgs, whose collection is the foundation of the KHM. In fact, these were depictions of various members of the royal family of Felipe IV, the monarch served by the Spanish master. My favorite of the group is the "Infanta Margarita Teresa in Blue Gown" of 1659. The bravura brushwork that characterizes Velazquez' best work is most evident in his treatment of the sumptuous gown worn by the Spanish princess. This single work ranks, in my opinion anyway, with the very best from his brush.
Diego Velazquez, "Infanta in a Blue Gown," 1659 |
I could write considerably more about this great museum, but time prevents that. Instead, let me suggest that you visit the museum yourself. At least take an Internet stroll through the online collection. The Kunsthistorisches Museum is well worth your time.
Conservation of The Art of Painting
Kunsthistoriches Museum, Vienna