When last we checked in on the European side of things, it was American Mother's day, so we're still in early May in blog time. Post Chateau Herálec divertissement, my friend Jane dropped in for a visit. We had a lovely time checking out the sights in Vienna, Brno and (finally!) Salzburg. It is rather shocking that I lived within spitting distance of this particular tourist venue and never managed to drop by.
Festung Hohensalzburg, the "High Salzburg Fortress,"
My children have been to Salzburg, we have spent untold hours singing songs from the Sound of Music (a distinctly American thing to do, of course, as there is no Austrian version of this Rodgers and Hammerstein extravaganza), and we've seen the movie an embarrassing number of times. But, we've never managed the two and a half hour train ride.
Despite the chosen weekend being a bit rainy and grey, we went, we climbed the castle, and managed to enjoy ourselves. More details in future posts, but today we will dedicate to the person who put Salzburg on the map: Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart.
In the spirit of Poor Sissi, we give you Poor Mozart. I am rather thrilled with the way my children have latched on to this notion; they scout out depictions of famous historical characters and critique them. I am not exactly sure how this is going to translate in the US, but I am sure we can find some game that is similar.
So, how do you think Mozart would feel about finding himself portrayed in this manner:
While it is possible that he would take being sculpted in rubber ducky format as a tongue-in-cheek homage, particularly if it meant he would be able to pay the rent on time, it is also possible he would have had a flat out hissy fit.
This is just weird.
Creepy.
I imagine the cartoonification is meant to make classical music and Mozart more relatable. I'm not big on cartoon-y cartoons, so I find it flat out bizarre. What would you do with something like this in your house? Since I don't presently have any furniture, it would join the unfortunately rather large pile of tchotchkes that for the moment are meant to pass for a "coffee table" in my otherwise desolate living room.
As an ex-marketer, I do wonder what the thinking behind these sorts of tourist souvenirs is. They must sell, or people wouldn't stock them in shops. But who buys them? And why? And how can anyone who has any respect for Mozart and the brilliance of his work think this is a good idea?
We shall never know how Mozart or Sissi or even the unfortunate Marie-Antoinette would have felt about their modern day depictions. Although, with one last unfortunate homage to Dear Sissi, we can guess.
Next: Salzburg, despite the rain!
I think it would be a hoot to be immortalized as a rubber duckie, or LEGO mini-fig, or have my horse made into a Breyer model. Is my pop culture showing?
Posted by: Rodneyssaga | July 18, 2014 at 03:44 PM