Slovenia, Italy, Cantabria (Spain), Czech Republic, Germany
(Whew! -there's more!)
Switzerland, Italy
14 September - 17 October 2021 (in spite of pandemic!!)

Itinerary

This trip was, first and foremost, an expedition of sorts to gather photographs of my latest
obsession, funerary art - sculptures found on graves, in tombs and elsewhere in and around
cemeteries and churches. My interest isn't so much about death (I hasten to say), but more about
how art was used in the XIXth century to express people's feelings about life and the afterlife.
I've focused on Angels, particularly Thanatos Angels, to develop a taxonomy - believe me, I didn't
really know that word before getting involved in this stuff. It refers to a slow realisation,
a gradual understanding that there are 'types' of Angels that have developed over time to
fulfil various functions, to perform various services, as it were, for mortals.

Most of the pictures here are just travelogue images, pictures I took along the way.
I've posted the bulk of the cemetery pictures on Wikimedia Commons, and I encourage you
to visit the Commons pages for the various cemeteries to see them, if you're interested.
If not, you can go look at television, as Lucy Ricardo once said. ["The Black Eye", 9 March 1953]

Before we start, just a few statistics - actually, they're just tallies, but everyone calls them
statistics: The trip was 33 days, my itinerary had me visiting 24 cemeteries, and my list of
sculptures (artworks) I wanted to find ran to about 109 items. Using lotsa research on the Internet,
I knew exactly where to look for some of the sculptures, others I just had to hope to run into
as I wandered around. I was (and am) amazed to realise that I found all but four (4) of the monuments
I was looking for. Of course, in the process, I encountered and photographed a bunch more, ending up
with several hundred photos in all, after weeding out the duplicates. It was a successful, if exhausting, trip.

Ljubljana (Slovenia), 15-17 September 2021
including day trip to Postonja Cave

cemetery to visit: Žale

These trees in a Ljubljana park are evidence that we're in an old city,
not (yet) inflicted with Disneyfication (my disparaging term for when
locales are spruced up just for tourists).

Ljubljana's mascot (as it were) is the dragon, seen here on Zmajski most,
a bridge over the Ljubljanica River since 1901.

If one can believe the keystone (and I confess, I do), this doorway has been here since 1773.
Perhaps this is the original door?

Like many old European cities, the focal point is a castle on a hill.

Graffiti and, more to the point, 'street art' is everywhere here.
This courtyard/parking lot seems to be part of a local school.

Street art is not always easy to interpret. Why would a train wreck
adorn the side of an apartment building?

This piece of street art is nothing short of delicious. As you can see, it's a
youthful smoker. I shot the picture because it's colourful and (to my
eye) well-executed. What I didn't know until I got home and went
looking at Google Street™ images (dated September 2013) is that
this particular nook of Komenskaga ulica once had a sign that said,
"center za odvajange od kajenja" - "smoking cessation centre".
The painting tells us that this image replaced the sign in 2019.

I've always been fascinated by hands. It probably has something to do with
beginning piano lessons when I was six.

A short distance outside of the downtown area is this (former) monastery
now a park and concert venue.

Above this shop's basement entrance is an inventive, whimsical sculpture.

In true modern fashion, the artist used available materials, not precious metals
and fine marble - old sneakers and used roofing shingles, for example.
It appears to be a skateboard shop.

On the other side of quality sculpture (and on the other side of Ljubljana)
the façade of the Slovenian Parliament building is at least remarkable,
and at best amazing. It was created in 1959 and depicts Slovenian people in all
walks of life - except shopping for clothes.

This building, visible for blocks around the railway station, appears
to be an apartment building. Every unit a city view!

Back in town, I noticed this doorway flanked by two "Mr Slovenia" types,
who at first glance looked like they had pushed their fists up through
the canopy. On closer glance, they've been shackled to the entryway.

Vurnik house, now the Cooperative Business Bank Building, was built in 1921 in
what Wikipedia calls "Slovene National Style", inspired by Vienna
Secession - a type of Art Nouveau. You kinda had to be there, I guess.

The first cemetery I visited was Žale - pronounced ZAH-lay by them what knows.
This bas-relief depicts the Holy Family (i.e., Mary, Joseph, Jesus) teaching the boy
a useful trade - carpentry. (Little did they know!)

This apparenly is a relatively recent sculpture. Thanatos Angels - the ones with the down-turned
torch symbolising the end of life - are rarely female, and usually have wings.

Not far from Ljubljana is a tourist attraction that actually attracted me. (Usually I avoid
tourist haunts like the plague. [Sorry; at the present moment in history, that metaphor
might be insensitive.]) The Postonja Cave is your standard million-year-old collection of
stalagmites and stalactites, with strategically-placed lighting to help you see them, and
well-built paths and bridges with hand-rails to help you navigate them.

The Cave's first official tourist visitor was the Archduke Ferdinand in 1819, though
graffiti in the Cave system have been dated back to 1213. Pesky teenagers!

Trieste, 18-19 September 2021

cemeteries to visit: Evangelical (Lutheran); Cimitero di San Giorgio (Serbo-Ortodossa);
Greco-Orientale; Sant'Anna (Catholic)

This intricate monument marks the grave of the Covacevic (Kobačević)
family. The sculpture and canopy date from about 1876, and look like they
were constructed yesterday, because of recent restorations. While this is the star
achievement of the current project, the restoration work is being conducted on a
wide scale, involving many other monuments in the relatively small cemetery.

This monument for Anastasia Cvetkovich (Cvetković) also has been restored -
sort of. I assume the Thanatos Angel was not originally headless. Still, I've learned
that in high-quality, responsible cemetery sculpture restoration, parts of a work of
art that are completely missing usually are not replaced, since an artisan, no matter
how skillful, can never recreate the exact work of the original artist.

(Having said this, I must add that some cemeteries do authorise re-creations
of damaged monuments. It is relatively easy with buildings, especially when vintage
photographs are available to guide the work. Re-creating the face of a human or
angel, however, is rarely attempted.)

This sarcophagus topped with a reclining Thanatos Angel (note the Torch of Life
at the left) holds a special place in the emotions of Trieste, even though the man
memorialised here was not Italian, let alone Triestian (Triestite?). First of all, this
is not a grave or sarcophagus burial, but a cenotaph - a monument in a place other than
the resting place of the person memorialised. The person in this case was Johann Joachim
Winckelmann (1717-1768), a German archæologist and art historian, who happened to be passing
through Trieste en route to Rome when he was assassinated. He is buried in the churchyard of
Trieste Cathedral. According to the administrator of the archæological museum where this
shrine exists - he was generous enough with his time to guide me around the grounds and upstairs
to the cenotaph itself - the City of Trieste felt deep and enduring guilt over the murder (even
though it was the act of one man, not a conspiracy nor local hostility), to the point that some
decades later, the sculptor Antonio Bosa (1780-1845) was commissioned to create this monument,
which was unveiled in 1833.

Of the six (or so) distinct, adjoining cemeteries along via dell'Istria in Trieste,
the Catholic Cimitero di Sant'Anna is by far the largest. Its entrance building
was constructed in 1932. The inscription "RESURRECTURIS" is a sort of
dedication and promise: "For those who will be raised again."

The front of the entrance building at Cimitero di Sant'Anna is decorated with Art Deco
Angel bas-reliefs by sculptor Marcello Mascherini (1906-1983).

Inside the WC (restroom, toilet), the graffiti are not so artistic, though rather funny
(IMHO). Where most signs of this nature are much simpler - "dispose of toilet
paper only", for example - this one specifies what not to flush: "nylon stockings,
underpants, plastic bags, diapers or food scraps". One visitor felt the list needed
a couple more items, so he** added: "mobile phones or tablet".
[**I feel comfortable saying 'he', since this was in the Men's toilet.]

Viewing this field of cremation burials, I can't escape the impression that somehow,
a concert is about to begin.

Since I'm being silly, consider this: can we assume the guy buried here was a
liberal? (Get it? - left leaning - OK, too soon?)

I took this photo of the tomb of Mario Lanza and family because I thought I might be
able to contribute it to the Internet collection of famous graves. It turns out while
this is Mario Lanza (1889-1965), it's not the Mario Lanza (1921-1959), who is
interred at Holy Cross Cemetery in Culver City, California, near the MGM studios
where he worked as a film actor. Oh well, nice try.

This has to be one of the smallest sculptures I've ever seen on a grave. It must
be less than 8 inches high. According to the inscription, the deceased was a
university student and athlete who died in an automobile accident. The tiny
figure appears to depict him playing water polo. RIP.

Some grave sculptures are merely nostalgic, while others can be deeply moving.
Some, moreover, have a clear message, others not so much. This, for me, is moving,
and a bit ambivalent. Is the boy with the cross escorting his departed parents into the
afterlife? Are the bereaved parents saying goodbye to their son? Are all three on
the road to Heaven? In any case, sculptor Giovanni Mayer (1863-1943) has given us
a touching, thought-provoking image. The monument dates from 1905.

Venice, 20-21 September 2021

cemetery to visit: San Michele

I had been to Venice before (in 2005), and from that trip, have always regarded the place
as an unique marvel, the world's premier city, the pinnacle of civilisation's achievement.
I doubt that anything will ever change my opinion (as long as it doesn't sink completely
into the Lagoon, which is not beyond the realm of possibility). Now, my advice: Venice is no
longer visitable. Do not go there, unless you have a dying Aunt who lives there. It has been
completely and utterly ruined by tourists. It is no longer possible to experience its magic,
to appreciate La Serenissima (the other name by which romantics know the place).

Here we see a kind of 'signature' of the Middle Ages, or perhaps the Renaissance - bell ringers
in the shape of giants. I've seen (and commented on these pages) before about others I've seen:
Orvieto; Bern; London (St Dunstan in the West, Fleet Street).

On my first visit, it was vietato to take photographs inside of the Basilica di San Marco.
This time it was OK - as long as you were wearing a mask. It's always something!

San Michele, Venice's main cemetery, is a small island, accessible only by boat (obviously).
The cemetery is the island, and vice versa. From this picture, you might assume that
the favourite sport on the island is Quidditch. I don't know, but it's tempting to think so.

I'm beginning to see another minor theme in my cemetery pictures - images of apparently live
humans with the Grim Reaper close behind. Good sculptures portray emotions in 'body language'
and, of course, facial expressions. This one invites the caption, "What the hell do you want, pal?"

As for the live human/Grim Reaper theme, some of my regular readers - the big three, as I like
to call them - may remember the chilling memorial for the family of Dr Revay Bodog in Budapest's
Kerepesi Cemetery. There's another one - or two, rather - coming up when we get to Dresden (see below).

Another 'first' for me - I don't think I've ever seen another sculptural representation
of Jonah and the Whale (see Jonah 1:17 for the original story). My only question here is
whether Jonah is on the way in, or on the way out. (By the way, this is not a grave sculpture;
it's one of a series of bas-reliefs on the walls of some modern mausoleum blocks.)

This is what I call a "baby Thanatos". Most Angels (Thanatos or otherwise)
are young adults or adolescents. This shows, if nothing else, that they start early.

Ya gotta love the eternal permanence of spelling errors. Here, the next-to-last
deceased will forever be referred to as "Ricther". It's not a family quirk, either,
as evidenced by her fellow family members above known (probably correctly) as "Richter".
Adding insult to error, the mis-spelt one is the only one highlighted in readable black ink!

Here's another one (spelling error) which was corrected, and could have been covered up in
the process with a little plaster filling and sandpaper. Shoddy carving, shoddy re-carving.

The bas-relief on this tomb is well-executed, though at first glance (at least with a twisted
mind like mine) one might think this Angel is sending an unwelcome message.

The Penzo family has given us a sculpture that blends two of my favourite images:
the Thanatos Angel and Art Deco. The date and sculptor are unknown (to me).

The modern mausoleum niches on Isola di San Michele never had it so colourful.

Even the back walkways at San Michele are interesting.

In order to get to the next phase of this trip - namely, Spain (or, rather, Catalonia) -
I went to Venice's airport (VCE) where I saw this sign. I understand the text, but the
positions of the cartoon woman and man don't make sense to me.

Santander, Cantabria (Spain), 22-24 September 2021
for day trips (by rental car) to Comillas and Tolosa

cemeteries to visit: Cementiri de Comillas; Cementerio San Blas, Tolosa
[not seen this time around: Cementerio de Logroño]

The short version of this day's travel: Venice to Madrid to Santander (VCE-MAD-SDR),
rent car, drive 50 km (31 mi) or so, arrive in Comillas, breathe deeply.

The retaining wall under the SouthWest corner of the cemetery bears the local name
of the street, otherwise known as CA-131. Apparently, Catalonia doesn't have the same
historical views of Central American dictators as the United States does.

The tiny Cementerio de Comillas is a jewel on a hill. The municipal government in the XIX
century had the vision to convert a church, abandoned in the XVI century, into a cemetery
with the help of a famous architect - Lluìs Domènech i Montaner (1850-1923) - and a brilliant
sculptor - Josep Llimona i Bruguera (1864-1934) - for the 'signature' sculpture above it
all: El Ángel Exterminador (1895). [NOTE: the double 'L's in the names of these artists
is not a mistake - it's a 'feature' of the Catalan language.]

Llimona's Exterminator Angel is truly a Guardian Angel - and not the helpful, benevolent
kind you may be used to.

On the other hand, Llimona's supremely gentle Angel for the Piélago Family tomb, also made
around 1895, is one of those sculptures -at least for me - that makes you feel that at any
moment it may come alive. While sitting nearby, mesmerised (and waiting for the sun to dip
below the horizon for optimal photographic lighting), I realised that this Angel
appears to be conducting, in the musical sense, perhaps a heavenly choir of boys like himself.
Whatever he's doing, he is the master of all he surveys, and has been for more than 120 years!

This entry gate at the Cementerio San Blas in Tolosa is rather pedestrian (oh, all right,
the pun is intended), made more interesting by the signs on either side of the doorway, the
left in Basque, the right in Spanish, both with the same 'message'. I'll share the Basque
version, since that's the traditional language in Tolosa:

Gaiztoaren atzeguiņa emen bukatzen da onaren poza emen asitzen da.
[The pleasure of the wicked ends here, the joy of the good begins here.]

I guess this is the Basque/Spanish version of the idea that you can put up with suffering now,
because you'll get your reward in Heaven. Or maybe that there's no rest for the wicked.
[NOTE: the translation, as usual, is courtesy of Google Translate™.]

The Tolosa Cemetery gives me the impression of a cemetery without walls. It seems
to be an integral part of the landscape.

My only reason for the multi-hour drive and struggling to learn how to read the maps of
the excellent (no joke) highway system in NorthEastern Spain was to photograph this
monument on the Doussinague Family grave. Why? You may well ask. It's the obsessive
scholar in me, a curse from graduate school days. Allow me to explain:

In my research (at home, on the Internet mostly) on cemetery sculpture in Europe, certain
sculptors, even certain individual monuments, emerge as being historically significant.
One such, perhaps the most significant in all of Spain, is the Angel at the center of the
Urrutia Pantheon (1911) in the Montjuïc Cemetery in Barcelona. (You'll see my photo of that
seminal sculpture later, if you stay on the bus.) The Urrutia Angel has been the subject of
quite a bit of scholarship lately, since 1) it is widely copied, and 2) it is not signed by a sculptor,
only by a 'studio' (Martínez y Fortuny). I'll leave the discussion of this history to experts.
Suffice to say that this sculpture - on the Doussinague Family grave (1916) in Tolosa - is
cited as evidence that the sculptor of the Urrutia Angel was Josep Campeny i Santamaria
(1858-1922). The similarity of the 'pose' of the Angel, along with the fact that this sculpture
is signed "J. CAMPENY" (who was part of the Martínez y Fortuny Company) is what
the scholars rely on. I know, I still haven't explained why I made this pilgrimage. The reason
is that the Doussinague Angel is mentioned in Web sites and books as being influenced
by the Urrutia Angel, but there were no decent photographs of Doussinague available.
Obviously, it was up to me to rectify the situation.

Barthelona, 25-28 September 2021
including day trip to Lleida

cemeteries to visit: Montjuïc; Poblenou; Les Corts; Cementiri de Lleida
[not seen this time around: Cementiri de Sant Feliu de Guixols]

[NOTE: Allow me to apologise for my intentional misspelling of the name of this
city; I did so to imitate the way they pronounce it; I'm perverse, I admit it.]

I've mentioned (often) my fascination with the Angel who carries the Torch of Life
and turns it downward when the mortal's earthly life ends. Here, at a restaurant
in a tiny, bustling Barcelona plaza, is a somewhat uncomfortable-looking Angel
(I mean, just what is he perched on?) holding a somewhat different kind of torch,
perhaps to help the diners below see what they're eating. He's also holding a
painter's palette. I imagine his name is Art.

We come to the historic - and challenging - Cementiri de Montjuïc. This wide
shot of the whole thing gives you an idea of why I say 'challenging'. The cemetery
provides regular busses that run from top to bottom and back again, for the
aid of anyone who is not a mountain climber. The busses were not running the day
I visited, I believe because of COVID concerns.

This is one of those cemeteries where you get the idea that each artist and family
was trying to do just a little more, just a bit bigger, than the one before.
This family grave puts four (4) sarcophagi in the form of a cross, and raises
the whole arrangement several feet off the ground. A single photograph could never
capture the whole effect. In person, it's impressive.

I noticed this modest stone because it depicts an Angel actually in flight,
something I've rarely seen in sculpture, though relatively common in paintings
of Angels. ('In flight' is not quite the same as the floating angels, which
I've mentioned often as being one of my favourite images.)

Here is the (abovementioned) Urrutia Pantheon (1911). The central figure of the grieving
Angel is framed by an elaborate portico of columns and stairs. Originally, there was
another Angel sculpture on top, now long-lost. This photograph was difficult to get, to
say the least. The Pantheon and the area around it was cordoned off, apparently for
restoration work. (The Angel, and some of the marble around it, does appear to have been
recently cleaned, always a welcome sight.)

I mentioned above (when our tour bus was in Tolosa) that the Urrutia Angel is widely
copied. Here is one of the copies in another Barcelona cemetery (Les Corts). From all
I can tell, this grave dates from about 1940. The Angel here (slightly left of center)
is much smaller than the original Urrutia, otherwise it is nearly identical.

This sculpture from 1880 in Barcelona's Poblenou Cemetery is one of the
finest examples of the 'magic' of the floating, marble Angel that I've ever seen.
The floating Angel - usually appearing to be on his way to Heaven - was a
frequent subject for the sculptor, Federico Fabiani (1835-1914). In my
own catalogue of Angel 'types', this would be a Guiding Angel.

Barcelona is unquestionably a great city of the world, and the phenomenal
Church (since 2010, the Basilica) of La Sagrada Família is one of its reasons.
Construction was begun in 1882 and is expected to be completed in 2026, with
the final decorative elements in place by about 2032. That's right, 150 years,
a length of time not uncommon for great Cathedrals and other large church
buildings throughout history. Sagrada Família took a little longer, perhaps,
than it would have, due to minor inconveniences such as the Spanish Civil War
and an arson fire during that war set by Catalan anarchists which destroyed
many of the plans and models used to guide the project. This view shows the
NorthWest façade.

To say that most aspects of La Sagrada Família are 'different' would be an
understatement. Here is a view of the SouthEast façade. The primary guiding
force for this 'temple', as he called it, was the architect Antoni Gaudí (1852-1926)
who became the building's chief architect almost from the beginning (1883) and worked
on it, even living part-time in his workshop at the building site, until he was run over
by a Barcelona tram in 1926. He died two days later, and was buried in the crypt.

Sculptural images at La Sagrada Família center on the Holy Family (of course),
the apostles and the writers of the New Testament Gospels. Here, two-thirds of
the Holy Family are seen, with the child Jesus showing his father, Joseph, an
injured dove.

If nothing else, Gaudí's hallmark is that nothing is like it has ever been
before. The interior of La Sagrada Família is just as innovative as the exterior.

I've seen, and admired, outdoor golden statues before, beginning with the
stunning Angel de Oro in México D.F. on my first international trip in 1963. Still, the
sheer size of this sculpture surprised me. The quadriga (a chariot drawn by four
horses) is a common theme for great buildings and triumphal arches. Of course they
aren't gold, but among those I've seen in person, the Arc de Triomphe du Carrousel
outside the Louvre, and the quadriga of Apollo above the entrance to the Bolshoi Theatre
in Moscow come to mind. (I really have been around the block a few times, haven't I?)

On a much smaller scale, this charming (if predictable) 1998 sculpture by
Núria Tortras i Planas (1926-2013) commemorates the Mútua Escola Blanquerna
which was founded across the street in 1923. (I say predictable, because the boy
is playing while the girl is studying, an educational stereotype.) A dedication
as well as the sculptor's name appear on the book the girl is reading.

I went to Lleida, about an hour by train outside of Barcelona, to photograph a cemetery
sculpture, and on the way back saw this "city on the hill". I tipped the taxi driver
to stop and wait while I got out and went to a good location to get an unobstructed view.
The site has a long history (see Wikipedia for the full story and much better pictures),
which includes its use as a Cathedral for Lleida, as a military barracks and, during
the Islamic occupation of Spain (c.832) as a mosque. The building we now see was begun
in 1203, and the bell tower finished in 1431. Its location is known as
Turó de la Seu Vella - Hill of the Old Cathedral.

Prague, 29 September 2021

cemetery to visit: Olšany

I visited Prague's Olšany Hřbitov (Cemetery) in 2017, moaning in my subsequent
blog that there were only two (2) interesting sculptures. I learned during later
research just how wrong I was. This depiction of a broken "Tree of Life" was
one thing I missed back then.

This 1892 Angel by František Hošek (1871-1895) and Josef Václav Myslbek (1848-1922)
has a name of its own - Pax Vobis - and reminds me quite a bit of the Angel-as-conductor
motif that I noted above with reference to the Piélago monument at Comillas.

Some of the sculptures at this cemetery go back into the early XIXth century. Even in
side-by-side niches there was quite a bit of imitation (perhaps multiple works by the
same sculptor?)

Dresden, 30 September - 1 October 2021

cemeteries to visit: Dresdner Johannisfriedhof Tolkewitz; Urnenhain Tolkewitz;
Loschwitzer Friedhof;
[not seen this time around: Heidenfriedhof; Waldfriedhof Bad Weißer Hirsch;
Annenfriedhof (Alter u. Neuer)]

This trip's 'view from the hotel room' is a bit of a mystery to me. Is this intentional
rooftop agriculture, or just the moss of neglect?

The Ost-Pol restaurant in Dresden's Königsbrücker Straße doubles as a COVID (and
other maladies) testing center. This slightly oversized Cupid serves to attract
attention to their services.

The Angel with an hourglass visiting the seated man can only have one caption:
"Excuse me, sir, your time's up!"

The Dresdner Johannisfriedhof (Evangelical Cemetery), like most cemeteries, suffers
the scourge of theft - not grave-robbing (I assume), but metal pilfering, particularly
bronze. They have a way of dealing with it that I have not seen anywhere else: where
bronzes have gone missing, they place a picture of what once was, overlaid with the word
GESTOHLEN [STOLEN].

While these 'replacements' convey the cemetery's outrage, and serve to encourage
outrage in visitors like me who see the signs, I don't know what effect they
could possibly have on the thefts themselves. It's sort of like closing the
door to the stable after the horses have escaped.

Not only sculptures are gestohlen. Bronze plaques also are targets of thieves.

Way earlier in this journey, when discussing sculptures that depict the Grim
Reaper lurking behind an unsuspecting (?) citizen, I mentioned there would be
more examples. Here, on the Krematorium (1911) in the Dresdner Urnenhain
(Dresden Urn-Grove) there are two nice people - a man and a woman - being
stalked by the unwelcome skeletons, whose intentions seem obvious.

Whimsical comes to mind. Also tiny. But I won't call it silly. Consider
the touching inscription under the dates: "Ach Mensch, Du! 's war schön!"
[Oh man, you! It was nice!] Loschwitzer Friedhof, near the chapel.

The Dresdner Nordfriedhof is waaaaay out of town, more than a mile from any tram
or bus stop. Uphill. Once I arrived, I realised what an unusual place it is - a
military cemetery in a country where its misguided leaders lost two major wars.
Some of those interred here were merely countrymen following orders. The pathos was
unmistakable, underscoring the futility of war.

Amid the somber reminders, a little home for living things gives hope.

In a mostly military cemetery, family graves are somewhat scarce. This beautiful
sculpture by Hans Dammann (1867-1942) marks the resting place of the Hummitzsch
family (1917), including Generalmajor z.D. Eduard Hummitzsch, who died in 1917,
toward the end of WW I.

Leipzig, 2 October 2021
including day trip to Nuremberg

cemeteries to visit: Südfriedhof Leipzig, Johannisfriedhof Nürnberg

The Hauptbahnhof (main railway station) in Leipzig has huge neon signs welcoming
visitors and informing them of the city's attractions, one of which is the
Thomanerchor Leipzig, the choir of the Thomaskirche, the church where
Johann Sebastian Bach was Kapellmeister for the last 27 years of his life. To the
right of this is another neon for the Gewandhaus Orchester. The city that
promotes its musical institutions equally with other venues is all right in my book.

Sometimes 'cute' goes a little too far for me. These signs are all over the
inside of the Men's toilet in Leipzig Hauptbahnhof. Weird on the verge of creepy.
I mean, "Let's have fun" - what can that mean in this context?

I have seen medium-large animals in cemeteries before, for example at Ohlsdorf in
Hamburg, but have never been able to prove it by photographs. I had more luck this time.
Sure, squirrels and birds, but deer? Nice.

I just mentioned Ohlsdorf (Hamburg), which is the first place I saw this sculpture.
I have since found out that the same, exact work of art can be seen in at least three
other cemeteries in Germany. As you can see, this is a classic Thanatos Angel - minus the
wings. (In the XXth century sculptures in classic Angel poses began to lose their wings,
becoming 'more human', according to some art historians.) The sculpture is known as Trauergenius
[Grieving Angel], and is credited to Carl Georg Barth (born in 1859, death date unknown).
This figure is on the grave of the family of Dr Robert Goepel (1865-1934). The oldest version
of the sculpture seems to be around 1912 (the Kalbhenn-Garbe [originally Frahm] grave in Ohlsdorf).

Stuttgart, 3-4 October 2021
including day trip to Karlsruhe

cemeteries to visit: Pragfriedhof; Steigfriedhof; Hauptfriedhof Karlsruhe
[not seen this time around: Hauptfriedhof Stuttgart; Alter Friedhof Stuttgart]

Thanatos Angels appear everywhere in cemeteries. These are on a small plaque on the
door of the Stuttgart Pragfriedhof Crematorium.

On a day-trip to Karlsruhe, I came across another example of a male Angel guiding
a female (presumably) to Heaven. I imagine you can agree that they appear to be in a hurry.

A few years back, Karlsruhe Cemetery inaugurated a new burial choice for people who
regard the old-style cemetery as stodgy - or worse. Two sections of the cemetery have been
set aside, and dubbed "Mein letzter Garten" - "My Last Garden". Burials are not in
rows nor squared-off sections, but at random places around the lush greenery. Monuments
to the departed are not prominent. The sculpture you see here is a decoration, not a grave.

On the way to and from Karlsruhe Cemetery, I noticed this hotel. I can't speak for
German tourists, but it's not an inviting name for an English-speaker, is it!

In the 'business area' (where the trains arrive and depart) of Karlsruhe Hauptbahnhof,
this semi-obscene tower cannot be missed. 'Nuff said.

Freiburg im Breisgau, 5 October 2021

cemeteries to visit: Alter Friedhof; Hauptfriedhof

Caroline Walter died at age 17 in 1867, and was buried here in Freiburg's Alter Friedhof
(Old Cemetery) under a likeness of herself having fallen asleep while reading. Somehow,
every day since then, flowers are placed on her grave by unknown people. One would
understand daily flowers for the lifetimes of those who knew her and felt bereaved,
but it's been more than 150 years now! I find this mysterious and wonderful.

Here we have a classic representation of the child with his hand in the cookie jar.
Or so he thought. What could he be doing in there? And I wonder if he's aware that
he may be under surveillance from above . . .

I revel in the absurd found in otherwise routine places. How about the musician
in this concert playing Kontrabass?! He could have had any number of other careers
in show business. Barnum and Bailey, for example. Oh, the silliness.

Zürich, 6-8 October 2021
including day trips to Kempten, Wetzikon and
Lugano, Switzerland (or Italy, depending on your point of view!)

cemeteries to visit: Friedhof Sihlfeld; Friedhof Wetzikon (Kempten);
Cimiteriale di Lugano; Cimitero di Sant'Abbondio (Gentilino)
[not seen this time around: Uetliberg; Fluntern]

The day-trip to Lugano was a journey into paradise, almost. A winding train ride
through the Swiss Alps, arriving at this picturesque town on a lake. Beautiful.
The only lingering question is whether it's Switzerland or Italy? Even the people
who live there seem to be ambivalent about this. German and Italian both are spoken,
and the names on businesses reflect both countries.

The Cemetery of Sant'Abbondio sits on the Collina d'Oro (Golden Hill) . . .

. . . on the grounds of the Chiesa di Sant'Abbondio.

Inside the Cemetery, I was stunned to find this bas-relief, which is a flat-out copy
of the Angelo Nocchiero of Staglieno in Genova, my favourite cemetery sculpture of
all time, and the one that started my interest in funerary art in the first place.

This elegant high-relief by the Italian artist Alessandro Rossi (1819-1891)
was made in 1849 as a memorial to Franceschina Gilardi daughter of Domenico
Gilardi (1785-1845), an architect involved in the Sant'Abbondio complex, who is also
buried in the Cemetery. It is just inside the front gate of the Cemetery, and it's
unclear (to me) if this is a grave or just a memorial stone. In any case, it's a
remarkable piece of marble sculpture.

I sometimes lapse silly, and think up captions for cemetery sculptures (meaning absolutely
no disrespect). For this, I imagine: 'It's a bird . . . it's a plane . . .'

The Ganymed [sic] statue in Zürich's Burkliplatz has an interesting pedigree,
which I won't go into here, except to note it was sculpted in 1952 by Herrmann
Hubacher (1885-1976). The official title of the work is Entführung in den Olymp
[Abduction to Olympus]. Here's the twist: the human figure here is Ganymede,
the eagle is Zeus. In the myth, Zeus snatches Ganymede away from his family
(with their blessing, it seems) and takes him home. Here, Ganymede seems to be
asking the eagle (Zeus) to take him aloft. I wonder if I'm the only one who sees this.
[Wikimedia Commons has more, and better, pictures of the sculpture Here.]

Munich, 9 October 2021

cemeteries to visit: Alter Südfriedhof; Ostfriedhof
[not seen this time around: Neuer Südfriedhof; Nordfriedhof (Alter u. Neuer); Westfriedhof; Waldfriedhof]

The Munich stopover, while partially successful, yielded no pictures that made the cut for this page.
If I had found the gravestone for composer Herman Zumpe (1850-1903), I might have included
that one, but it was one of the very few (four [4] out of over 120 on my search list) over the
entire trip that I was unable to find.

Milano, 10-17 October 2021
including day trips to Torino and Viareggio

cemeteries to visit: Milano Monumentale; Torino Monumentale; Cimitero Comunale di Viareggio

I took this picture on this trip - in 2021 - I swear!

I have now found three (3) clear examples of European attitudes towards marriage,
relationships and committment issues on various trips. In short, women are happy
once they've snagged a man, men are not so much.

Here are two others from past trips, re-posted here for comparison. See what I mean?

The woman does a victory lap, the man (or in the case of Quito, male youth)
looks like he wants to reconsider, to say the least. Hey, this is 'pop-culture'
anthropology, which doesn't lie!

Years ago (and a number of times since then) I saw an episode of a funny, fluffy Disney
Channel comedy called Even Stevens in which Ren Stevens (Christy Carlson Romano)
takes a job at a mall eatery managed by Norman Squirelli (Jason Marsden). The episode
was called Your Toast (19 April 2002), and the action was set in a fast-fooderia that
served, well . . . toast. At the time I recognised that the premise was questionable,
but I 'bought' it because the actors were top-notch, and the writing was good.
Fast-forward 20 years, and life imitates art. Go figure!

The ride around any city in the open-top tourist bus is obligatory (for me). Less walking,
much more sightseeing for the time spent. This hop-on-hop-off tour went by this surprising
building which the developers describe as an upright park - the Bosco Verticale (vertical forest).

The magnificent Cimitero Monumentale di Milano was far and away the most prolific source
of important cemetery photos on this trip. In my experience, it is rivaled only by the
Cimitero Monumentale di Staglieno, 120km South in Genova.

I'll start with this unknown grave, in which the sculpture makes you - or me,
at least - do a double-take. Is he 'saying' what I think he's 'saying'?

This interests me 1) because the Angel is showing the ancient Christian two-finger hand
gesture used to avoid detection by the unsympathetic Romans, and 2) because the Angel
seems to be pleading with the woman for reasons unknown (to me).

Damage to cemetery sculptures is almost as discouraging as theft. I have admired
pictures of this monument because of its ingenuity - the fallen 'box' now resting
on the child's head showed a 3-D diorama of a sort of cloister, or an unending
portico or colonnade, an impressive use of sculptural perspective. It's all pointless
now (hopefully only temporarily). I trust the cemetery will do some repairs on this one.
It seems like it wouldn't take much work (unless some bronze has been stolen from the box).

Sculptures of just hands are irresistible to me.

This bizarre sculptural group invites speculation about just what is going on here.
My first reaction, which I'm sticking to for the moment, is that this is one of the
original 'helicopter moms'.

The day-trip to Viareggio was highly successful, as there are some very interesting
monuments by top-flight sculptors there. This monument to Francisco Garrè is
mentioned often by art historians, since its Angel, and the concept of standing guard
at the door of the tomb, is a common sight in other cemeteries. This Angel is by Giovanni
Beretta (1867-1931), after Carlo Nicoli. (That means that Beretti made his Angel similar
to one originally sculpted by Nicoli. This is a common and acceptable practice in art,
generally considered a compliment to the original artist. It's rather like Rachmaninoff
writing a Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini, if you see my point.)

The last entry in this (rambling?) travelogue is the satisfying conclusion
to a bit of scholarship. On a previous journey, I photographed one of Staglieno's
earliest monuments, the sculpture by Giovanni Battista Cevasco (1817-1891) on the
tomb of Giovanni Polleri (1852). In the months before this trip, I ran across
a photo of a near-identical sculpture - with slight differences in the details
around the frame, and so forth - and the only documentation I could find was that
the monument was in the Torino Monumentale. Since it was obviously either by
Cevasco, or a sculptor copying Cevasco, I had to find out 1) if it really was in
Torino, and 2) what were the details of its creation. Without much trouble, I was
able to locate it, and it had the very helpful 'feature' of having been signed
by Cevasco. It's on the grave of Giuseppe Farinelli (c.1801-1850), and I've shown
it here on the left. The Polleri sculpture at Staglieno is the one at the right.