into studying South Tyrol, I couldn’t help comparing it to other border territories of the world. The history of every such place involves difficult times, and some of them are still experiencing them. Their people fought for independence, asserted their rights for their native tongue and culture. The wisdom with which these same problems were solved in South Tyrol seemed to me a worthy example for other similar territories. After all, what we often need is just to know that we are not alone and that somebody else has faced the same challenges in life.
It was quite logical that my interest in South Tyrol should grow into something material. And if you want to know the main reason why I have written this book I will answer that I simply could not help writing it.
This book is my acknowledgement to South Tyrol and its multinational population for being a model of bridging the differences and of overcoming the challenges of history, for the priceless vivid example of what results can be achieved with love and desire for peace. This book is my own collection showcasing the many facets of this region.
One’s perception of this or that place in the world is always based on their personal experience, education, profession, and, of course, emotions. Naturally, I am present in each of the stories that I have included in this book: my architectural, artistic and literary taste, my sensitivity to the destinies of people and buildings, my love of the good and of those who do the good no matter what. At the same time, I tried to write about everything impartially, leaving to you the right to make your own conclusions.
Choosing the subjects for this book, creating my own collection of stories for it, I understood why collectors so often devote their lives to their work. Choosing the best of so many beautiful creations is an art. Choosing the most significant things in the life of a whole region is not an easy task. Therefore, I apologize in advance for the things that I may have overlooked. The history of South Tyrol, as well as its present, is, of course, abundant in things that are still waiting for their narrator.
After reading my collection of stories you will surely see a single image of this mountain land – its face, if you like. This is how I see South Tyrol. I cannot promise that your vision of this region will coincide with mine, but what I know for sure is that after reading this book you will pack your suitcase, backpack, or travelling bag and will head for South Tyrol. I also know that you will fall in love with it.
Chapter Two.
North – South
With so many cities whose central squares are featuring monuments to marshals, admirals, generals, monarchs, kings or empresses, it feels so great to finally find at least one city in the centre of which there is a monument to a poet.
In fact, Walther von der Vogelweide, the German poet and composer of the period of the classical Minnesang whose figure towers proudly on its pedestal in the square of the same name in Bolzano (Bozen), hardly had anything to do with South Tyrol. This man, who belonged to the knightly class but did not own any land, spent his life wandering, and a considerable number of legends have formed around him. The only thing known for sure from his rich biography is where he is buried (his grave is located in Würzburg), but the birthplace of the famous poet still remains a mystery which one after another generation of admiring researchers of his work have agonized over.
Due to the absence of significant historical documents, most of the information about the life of Walther von der Vogelweide was drawn from his own writings. At different times, Switzerland, Austria, Bohemia and Tyrol were announced to be the possible places of his birth. Finally, one main version had to be selected, and that was the Austrian region of Waldviertel, where in the Middle Ages there was a farm house named Vogelweidhof (it exists even now, though under a different name). Von der Vogelweide’s own statement also speaks in favor of this option: “In Austria, I learned to sing and to speak.”
However, South Tyrolean researchers of history and literature did not stand idly by, either. They believed that the famous Walther could well be from their region; the following places were named as the potential birthplace of the minnesinger: the Valley of the Upper Isarco (Wipptal) near the town of Vipiteno (Sterzing), the neighborhood of Chiusa (Klausen), and, finally, the local community of Laion (Lajen) (for a long time the latter was considered the most plausible version of all). Alas, all these assumptions have been refuted. The main argument against the idea that von der Vogelweide was born in South Tyrol was the fact that, over many decades, he did not even once find the time to visit his alleged homeland. But then again, why should the monument to a person who had nothing to do with South Tyrol have been mounted in the main square of the region’s capital city?
In the Middle Ages, when Tyrol was already part of Austria, the place of the present-day Walther Square, as well as the territory to the south of the city walls and its historical centre, was occupied by wine fields. At the beginning of the 19th century, Austria was defeated by the Napoleonic forces in the battle of Austerlitz, and, under the Peace of Pressburg, ceded Tyrol to one of Napoleon’s main allies – Bavaria. The then King of Bavaria, Maximilian I, who took possession of the vineyards near the walls of Bolzano (Bozen), agreed to sell them to the city for 3,000 guilders, but on the condition that they should be replaced by a square. The city kept its promise to the monarch: Maximilianplatz, a square named in his honour, was inaugurated in 1808.
Life in Tyrol as part of Bavaria was not easy, and in 1809 an uprising against the Bavarian and French authorities broke out in the region, headed by Andreas Hofer. Through joint efforts, the local population and the Austrian troops that entered Tyrol restored Austrian power in it. The triumph, however, did not last long, as after a few weeks the new French army ousted the Austrians from the region. According to the Treaty of Vienna of 1809, Tyrol was divided between the two countries: North Tyrol was left to Bavaria, while South Tyrol was given to the Italian kingdom.
It is only in 1813, after the Vienna Congress, that it was returned to the Austrian Empire. A year later, Maximilianplatz in Bolzano (Bozen) was given a new name, Johannesplatz, in honour of the Archduke Johann (John) of Austria. The Austrian elite started coming more often to Bolzano (Bozen). Rave reviews about the beauty and the mild climate of this city quickly reached the Viennese court. Inns appeared around the square, which were soon followed by a hotel. The monument to Walther von der Vogelweide was installed on it at the initiative of the Austro-Hungarian government in 1889. The monument was made by the South Tyrolean sculptor Heinrich Natter from the Laas white marble quarried in the region. The German poet and composer of the period of the classical Minnesang is standing with his face to the south, and that is not mere chance.
It is in the south that Trento is located, which at that time, being a part of the Austrian Empire, was called Trient. The absolute majority of its population was Italian, and the irredentist movement for the incorporation of Trient and other Italian-populated border territories to Italy quickly gained momentum. As early as in 1886, people there had already started talking about making a monument to Dante Alighieri, at that time – simply on the occasion of setting up Pro Patria Foundation in Rovereto. Decorating the square in Bolzano (Bozen) with the figure of Walther von der Vogelweide, a man known for loving German culture and glorifying it throughout his life in his works, was a kind of remote response to the unrest in the south of the Austrian Empire.
The reaction of Trient (Trento) to the monument to Walther was not long in coming: already in 1893, the foundation stone of the monument to Dante was laid with an inscription on it: “The foundation stone to the monument from Trento citizens to Dante Alighieri, who showed what our language is capable of. XX APR MDCCCXCIII.” The Austro-Hungarian monarchy was well aware of the possible consequences of what was happening, but did not consider it appropriate to stand up against the project. Dante Alighieri’s figure was clearly facing north.
After World War I, under the Treaty of Saint-Germain, South Tyrol was returned to Italy. The notorious forced Italianization of this territory which followed had its impact both