One of the World’s Most Beautiful Libraries

Print this entry

VIENNA, AUSTRIA — I stood in State Hall, originally part of the imperial residence complex of the Hofburg Palace in the heart of Vienna, looking around and upward in awe. Walnut bookshelves stretched from floor to ceiling; all crammed tightly with 200,000 books published between 1501-1850. Above the shelves, some 30 meters high, is a domed cupola with an ornate fresco depicting the deification of Emperor Charles VI, painted by court artist Daniel Gran. It took him about five years — 1726-1730. I don’t know about Charles’s “deification,” but the fellow is responsible for building one of the most beautiful libraries in the world. That should have earned him some paradisiacal brownie points.

Longtime readers know of my love for libraries. Every time we travel to New England, a quick trip to the Boston Public Library — America’s first free municipal library — is on the itinerary. One of my fondest memories was spending several days about 20 years ago in the Library of Congress, ensconced in the main reading room, doing research for a book. I received my first library card when I was 6, from the Allenstown (N.H.) Public Library. It is a blessing that, 64 years later, I still work part-time as an archivist in an academic library. So yes, I was jazzed to be here.

A statue of Charles VI stands in the center of State Hall, which is part of the Austrian National Library. Four large globes — each one meter in diameter and created by Venetian cartographer Vincenzo Masria Coronelli — are placed around his statue. Two are terrestrial, depicting the known world of the late 17^th century, and two are celestial, showing the constellations and night sky. (A photo of one of the globes accompanies this piece.) They are stunning in detail.

Sixteen larger-than-life statues are also in the State Hall. When I took the photo of the statue also accompanying this piece, I mistakenly assumed it was William Shakespeare. Why there would be a statue of the famed English writer in the Austrian National Library — where I presume nearly all the books are written in German — somehow escaped me at the time. Further research on the State Hall’s website indicates the statue represents Frederick III of Habsburg, who was Holy Roman Emperor from 1452 to 1493. They do favor each other.

Frederick was known for using a cryptic monogram that sounds to American ears as if he was teaching little kids the vowels of the English language: AEIOU. For Frederick, who ordered the monogram slapped on buildings across the empire, it stood for “Austriae est imperare orbi universe,” or “It is Austria’s destiny to rule the world.” That did not work out so well.

The library stacks of State Hall are understandably roped off, keeping the volumes — thousands bound in Morocco leather — out of the grasp of the 330,000 visitors who arrive annually. While the books can’t be checked out, of course, the entire collection of more than 200,000 volumes has been digitized. The Austrian National Library contains 3.5 million digital objects from all its collections. That includes 400,000 photographs, a few dozen of which I viewed when back home. (The website is published in both German and English.)

State Hall also hosts exhibits shown on video screens in front of the stacks — a striking contrast to the ancient books behind them. The exhibit when I was there was titled “A Century in Pictures. Austria 1925-2025.” This year marks the 80^th anniversary of Austria’s liberation from the Nazis at the end of World War II. The exhibit also noted the 70^th anniversary of the Austrian State Treaty in 1955, which reestablished Austria as a sovereign nation after a decade of Allied occupation, and the 30^th anniversary of the country joining the European Union. Viewing the photography exhibit was an added treat.

I reluctantly left State Hall and wandered around, a few hours to kill before my son-in-law Matt and I caught a train back to Unterneukirchen, across the border in Bavaria, once he finished working. A delectable breakfast at Café Mozart eased my stomach rumbling. A few hours later, I grabbed a beer at Bar Kotor, the only person there besides the bartender. She stepped outside to smoke while “Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)” by Eurythmics played inside.

I was alone in a Vienna bar on a fine autumn afternoon. I decided to have another beer before taking an Uber to the train station.

Go to my Facebook page to view more photographs of State Hall.

Print this entry