Wieskirche – Pilgrimage Church of Wies
We sought out a gem of baroque ecclesiastical architecture in the countryside between Munich and Füssen: the Pilgrimage Church of Wies. Our pilgrimage was architectural, not ecclesiastical.
From UNESCO:
The sanctuary of Wies, near Steingaden in Bavaria, is a pilgrimage church extraordinarily well-preserved in the beautiful setting of an Alpine valley, and is a perfect masterpiece of Rococo art and creative genius…
The hamlet of Wies, in 1738, is said to have been the setting of a miracle in which tears were seen on a simple wooden figure of Christ mounted on a column that was no longer venerated by the … monks of the [local abbey]. A wooden chapel constructed in the fields housed the miraculous statue for some time. However, pilgrims from Germany, Austria, Bohemia, and even Italy became so numerous that the Abbot … decided to construct a splendid sanctuary. Consequently, work began in 1745 under the direction of the celebrated architect, Dominikus Zimmermann, who was to construct, in this pastoral setting in the foothills of the Alps, one of the most polished creations of Bavarian Rococo….
All art forms and techniques used – architecture, sculpture, painting, stucco work, carving, ironwork, etc. – were melded by the architect into a perfect, unified whole, in order to create a diaphanous spatial structure of light and form. The remarkable stucco decoration is the work of Dominikus Zimmermann [and of] his brother Johann Baptist. The lively colors of the paintings bring out the sculpted detail and, in the upper areas, the frescoes and stuccowork interpenetrate to produce a light and living decor of unprecedented richness and refinement. The abundance of motifs and figures, the fluidity of the lines, the skilful opening of surfaces, and the ‘lights’ continually offer the observer fresh surprises. The ceilings painted in trompe-l’œil appear to open to an iridescent sky, across which, angels fly, contributing to the overall lightness of the church as a whole.
(source)
It might be, in some sense, yet another church. But we loved its isolation in the rolling countryside, the assuredness of its architectural massing, and the remarkably luminous, weightless and rising interior. Bavarian Rococo at its best.
Füssen
We chose Füssen as one of our hotel bases because it offers convenient access to Neuschwanstein Castle, and to the Bavarian Alps. But it turns out to be a cute little town with a surprisingly attractive and interesting city museum.
A stroll around the compact historical center bounded by the Lech River:
Of course we wondered about the founding and history of Füssen, which led us to learn about the Via Claudia Augusta and violins.
Füssen was first a Roman frontier station to protect against the as-yet unconquered tribes to the north. As the Romans expanded to the north, they constructed at first a military road between the Italian lowlands, through the Alps, all the way to the Danube River. Once conquest had been completed, the route became an important trans-alpine trading route. ※
The benedictine Abbey of St. Mang that grew up in the ninth century where Fussen is today benefitted from the commercial and ecclesiastical connections via the Via Claudia Augusta.
Then, around the 16th century, artisans in Füssen began to craft lutes. The area around Füssen, in the foothills of the Alps, didn’t support export-worthy agriculture, but it did offer abundant yew and mountain spruce and other woods perfect for making lutes. As well as relatively easy connections to markets north and south of the Alps. The culture of expert craftsmanship flourished and evolved to include violins, violas, celli, etc., as well. Füssen’s lutes and violins were so prized that patrons and merchants brought Füssen craftspeople to the courts of Italy. ※
We could stroll around only so much; the town is quite small. So we decided to explore the town’s museum.
A former benedictine abbey, founded in 850 CE, houses the museum. But most of what we saw in the museum comes from the Baroque period because of a wholesale renovation in the 18th century. A priest from elsewhere who traveled through Füssen in 1788 noted admiringly, “The whole abbey is remarkable in its design, everything is worthy of attention, and it is extraordinary that on such a small uneven site an attractive arrangement of buildings had been created.”
However, in 1803, the abbey closed. 100 years later, Füssen’s town museum emerged from the defunct abbey, replete with works of art, from romanesque to rococo, that illustrate the diverse history of the abbey. The abbey had not only been the hub of church life, but also the seat of administrational and cultural activities in and around Füssen.
We enjoyed some of the Baroque rooms of the abbey, such as the library and so-called Emperor’s Hall.
We liked these pairs of cherubs with attitude:
One interesting element wasn’t erased by the Baroque renovation: a wall-sized graphic of the Dance of Death, from 1602.
We’d heard the phrase Danse Macabre or Dance of Death but were’t aware of the importance of this tradition in Medieval Europe. Strictly speaking, the Dance of Death is a literary or pictorial representation of a procession or dance of both living and dead figures. The dance of death had its origins in late 13th- or early 14th-century poems that combined the essential ideas of the inevitability and the impartiality of death. The concept probably gained momentum in the late Middle Ages as a result of the obsession with death incited by the Black Death of the mid-14th century and the devastation of the Hundred Years’ War (1337–1453). ※
From the Museum:
The Fussen Dance of Death is the oldest existing dance of death in Bavaria and ranks among the most notable monumental early-Baroque dances of death in the German-speaking region.
In the Füssen Dance of Death under the motto “Say Yes, Say No, The Dance Must Be Danced”, twenty classes of people follow Death in hierarchical order. Death is the great leveler, taking the mighty and the weak, rich and poor, old and young, dignitaries and sinners.
The theme of dance expresses the ambivalence between the lust for life and the fear of death and describes life’s balancing act. This dualism of life and death finds apt expression in the depictions. In many scenes, Death parodies the gestures and behavior of the members of the various classes. Who wins is clear from the outset, for “The Dance Must Be Danced”. The theme of the dance of death is a constant reminder to live in such a way that sudden death does not catch you unprepared.
Two examples of these fascinating, darkly amusing, and sobering vignettes:
Death:
The Lord Emperor joins the row,
And dances in line after the Pope
Your empire and power also have an end.
So do not hold back and come here quick.
Emperor:
I augmented my land and empire,
I also bravely resisted my foe.
Only death is too migtry for me,
And makes me jump into line.
Death:
O noblewoman, why this finery
That you wear day and night?
Take of your dress, soft and light,
And dance with me, and you'll turn white.
Noble-woman:
Death comes to my door too,
It seems to me cruel and strange.
I thought there was sill time,
But he caught up with me so quickly.
After all that contemplating life and death choices, we just enjoyed the views from the museum over the Lech River.
RIWA Bar & Restaurant, Füssen
This casual stylish restaurant provided us with another appreciated break from boiled beef, schnitzel, and dumplings (for the most part!).
October 2024