Wiesbaden notes

Wiesbaden notes Who goes to Wiesbaden these days? The era of Russian nobles taking the cure here and gambling is long since gone. And yet here we are. The proximate cause of this trip is the desire to see Grigory Sokolov, one of the world’s great pianists and a cult figure of sorts. He rarely tours North America, maybe these days never as he is 76. The current program includes Beethoven’s fourth piano sonata, Beethoven’s Op.126 Bagetelles, and Schubert’s last piano sonata. How can one say no? Sokolov also was a favorite of Tom Schelling, I might add, especially his recording of The Art of the Fugue, in my view one of the best classical music recordings of all time. Besides, I have long been a believer in semi-random excursions to mid-size, slightly neglected German cities. There remains a strong cultural federalism in Germany, and so you might see and hear wonderful things in many different parts of the country. I perceived two difficult Wiesbadens. In one, if you walk through the cheaper part of the pedestrian zone in the evening, the city seems mostly Muslim. But if you walk around during the morning, the city seems mostly German. I might add that some of the younger Muslim women show signs of assimilating, at least based on how they dress and present themselves. The older women tend to stick with the headscarves. Over the last twenty years, inflation-adjusted real estate prices in Wiesbaden have gone up about forty percent, an OK performance. At times the city “does not feel like Germany any more,” but I think it is holding on. The proportion of new building is roughly equal to the population growth, so I do not think this price effect is a NIMBY effect. Rather it reflects the fact that Wiesbaden is still a pretty nice place to live. that said, in some significant ways Germany in the traditional sense is failing to reproduce itself. It was stunning to me to discover how hard it is, in most of the downtown, to find plain, ordinary German food. At any price level. There is no current equivalent of Wienerwald or Nordsee to be seen, never mind a decent Wiener Schnitzel. Much of Wiesbaden was destroyed and rebuilt, but the best fifteen or twenty buildings show the previous wealth and splendor to good effect. You will see these gems walking around, though only periodically. There is also an old Roman wall and a moving, more recent Holocaust memorial. Most German ice cream just isn’t that good, so try L’Art Sucre for something French. Museum Reinhard Ernst is the new institution in town, and it specializes in color field abstract art. The building is impressive, but the collection is weak except for a few Stellas. Why organize a museum around that basis unless the underlying collection is super strong in that area? This one is not. I can forgive the absence of the expensive American Ellsworth Kelly, but no Blinky Palermo or Günther Förg? Nonetheless their restrooms might forestall this kind of Larry David conflict: (At Museum Ludwig in Köln, by the way, you get the discount for being disabled only if you have “fifty degrees of disability,” however they might measure that. Slight disabilities are not enough, you must be truly “schwerbehinderte,” as judged by the state, heaven forbid the museum rely on the honor system.) Museum Wiesbaden in contrast was an unexpected delight. Although it is mainly a natural history museum, they have one of the world’s best collections of Art Nouveau and the single best Jawlensky collection, and you can have these all to yourself. Very few people seem to go there. As for the economy, here are some Germany facts of the day. Yet Germany continues, and visits remain a source of pleasure and interest. Sokolov, by the way, played six encores. Where should the Germany trip target next year?