München

I'm in Munich at the moment. I took the train here from Paris to see my brother, who had a business trip. I entertained myself on Thursday, while Kevin was working, by a mad sightseeing blitz. The main part of the old town is called the Marienplatz, and a lot of what's worth seeing is around there. First destination: the Frauenkirche (I've been trying to pronounce that correctly for three days, but the effort is doomed). Let me tell you ALL ABOUT IT.
The photo above is of the nave. It's has a beautiful ceiling--late Gothic (1525), so it has all the vaulting without the messiness. Personally, I adore the messiness, but a lot of people don't. I blame Marcel Duchamp.
This is the devil's footprint. You may notice from the photos above that the windows of the nave are very narrow. When you stand at the east entrance and look down the main aisle, you can't see the windows at all. The legend goes, the devil came down to inspect this new church being built and laughed that a church with no windows wasn't very useful. When he moved, he saw the windows and stamped his foot in anger. Hence the black footprint with the spur-like protrusion at the heel.
I went from the Frauenkirche to the Neues Rathaus, the new town hall. "New" here means "15th century." The clock tower has a Glockenspiel, two tiers of painted wooden figures that rotate and otherwise move when the clock strikes 11 AM and 5 PM. I have to get QuickTime Pro to flip this clip, so you have to watch it sideways. Stop chastiseing, I'm WORKING ON IT. JEEZ. I took Kevin back there this morning so that he could see it, and he got all cute and excited. Sometimes, the only difference between him and his toddler is size.



After the Glockenspiel, I saw St. Michael's, a Jesuit church (built 1583-1597). Right on the threshold of the Baroque, it's all plaster and gilt. By my estimation, the main attraction is the great bronze cross by Gionvanni da Bologna (1594). It used to stand on the steps before the high altar, but that place has been taken by later sculpture. The figure of Mary Magdalene at the base of the cross is masterful; it was added in 1595 by H. Reichle. The draping, the posture, and the facial modeling all make it extrodinarily expressive. The scale of the piece is the most important element. She is REALLY far below Christ, and it makes her longing for him that much more tragic.