You visited which museum?

When one mentions visiting Vienna, thoughts of Mozart, or the angelic voices of the Vienna boys choir, or perhaps even slices of Sachertorte served with glasses of hot chocolate, come to mind. BY BARBARA ALLEN

But this was not the Vienna I discovered on a recent trip. I found a city that thought deeply about death and funerals. Is it any wonder that Vienna was where Sigmund Freud spent much of his life? During my stay, I made an appointment to visit the Bestattungsmuseum. I thought it was strange to have to make an appointment, but when I arrived, I understood the reason. The Bestattungsmuseum (the funeral museum) is set within the grounds of the state funeral company, which is still active, so appointments are needed, as well as a guide. The tours are in German only, but there is a small pamphlet in English. The museum was established in 1967 on the occasion of the sixtieth anniversary of the Municipal Funeral Service. It is hard to imagine a city where there are no private funeral directors, but this is now the case in Vienna. At the beginning of the twentieth century, there had been over eighty private funeral companies, bitterly competing for business.

In 1907, this was changed with the establishment of the Municipal Funeral Service. Private firms had to close during the years, due to changes in law, with the last private firm closing its doors in 1951. Over the years, the Viennese have been accused of being morbid, or obsessed with death. It is true that over the years there has been a fascination with death and funeral rites. Many still wish to have a schöne Leich (a ‘beautiful corpse’ meaning a beautiful funeral) and burials are still more popular than cremations (only about 18-20% opt for cremation.) In the museum, the first room is devoted to the elaborate attire of undertakers through the years, including two-pointed and three-pointed hats, banners and coverings (including crowns and tufts) for horses leading, or pulling, the funeral carriage.

On display are sashes, badges to distinguish rank, uniforms of musicians and of those persons who rode in front of the procession, as well as lanterns and processional crosses. Although I do not understand German (hence had to rely on the English pamphlet and a later discussion with the guide, who knew a little English) it was evident that the undertaking business was, and still is, a respectable profession that is accorded dignity and respect. In another room there was a small case containing some funeral jewels. These jewels, worn with the traditional black garments, indicated that the wearer was in a state of mourning. These jewels were worn to the funeral, and then, by some, as jewels of mourning for up to six months after the funeral.

The next case displayed a variety of funeral wreaths, including oak leaves for the military, whilst myrtle leaves formed the wreaths for the unmarried. There are many interesting items. One in particular is the warning bell. A loop was tied to the hand of the deceased, and if the person who had been buried were not dead, a bell would ring in the residence of the cemetery attendant. He would then hasten to rescue the one who was still alive! I don’t know how many seemingly dead people this gadget saved, but one would expect that this invention decreased levels of anxiety within the community. There are photographs of elaborate state funerals, death certificates and paraphernalia of famous persons, including the musicians Schubert, Beethoven and Haydn. Passing a glass cabinet, dedicated to the history of cremation, we arrive in the last part of the museum. Here are several large and elaborate sarcophagi, including a golden one, and a lion-headed one.

Another surprise is a folding coffin: this coffin could be used more than once (these days, we might label it as recyclable). It was also the source of great controversy. During the reign of Emperor Josef II (1780-1790) he banned the use of individual coffins, due to a shortage of wood. Bodies were to be sewn in sacks, and transported to the cemetery in a reusable coffin. The population was outraged, and Emperor Josef had to annul his order within six months of issuing it. It seems fitting that Emperor Josef’s own tomb, housed in the Capuchin Crypt, (the family vault of the Habsburgs), is a simple, copper coffin, in contrast to the elaborate, ornate, sarcophagi surrounding him.

There are other curiosities: a child’s coffin with a small window, elaborately painted death-boards (on which the body of the deceased rested before burial), meditation coffins as well as funereal merchandise. Merchandise includes matches (undertaker’s cigarettes with the motto Rachun sichert Arbeitsplätze: “Smoking guarantees work”), as well as photo albums, and toy cars. It may not be the most popular tourist attraction in Vienna (although attendance is high), but it is illuminating, for it gave me an insight into the Viennese fascination with death. It was interesting to see the funeral profession document and display their history. I did not find it morbid; rather, it is a public reminder that dying is part of life, hence the importance attached to the funeral rites and practices. Later, I visited the Capuchin Crypt and the Zentralfriedhof (Central Cemetery), which is one of the biggest cemeteries in Europe. I don’t have space to write about these visits, but they, combined with the trip to the Bestattungsmuseum, made for an unusual stop over in Vienna.