Vienna Calling

Visiting the Spanish Riding School in Vienna has been on my bucket list for a long time, and this year I had plenty of reasons and no excuses (see Part I of this story "The Soul of the Lipizzaner") to finally make it happen. In addition to having translated the book about the exceptional SRS stallion Neapolitano Nima I, who just passed away this week at age 40, I had watched many videos of performances (used for study purposes: how do they sit, how do they aid...), read Podhajsky et al, and trained in the tradition of the SRS, so for me it was much more than just a horsey thing to do while in Vienna.

I arrived on time and CO2 neutral by train in Vienna on a sunny August afternoon. Most of the following day I was going to spend at the SRS as I had been invited to the Morning Training, a tour, and a meeting with a Bereiter. But today I had a bit of time to explore this beautiful city. I dropped off my bags in my hotel with the most helpful receptionist (Franz Grillparzer, btw., was born in that building), literally around the corner from the Stephansdom. Armed with my city guide and my phone GPS for back up, I head toward Drahtgasse to stop by "Simply Raw," a vegan bakery, for some much needed coffee and a snack. I sit outside in this quiet alley and breathe in deeply. Across, engrossed in deep conversation, sit a well-dressed older gentleman with wild curls and a casually dressed young woman; I'm thinking professor and student. This is Vienna.  Meanwhile I realize that the dessert "Hello Dolly" is the best sweet treat I've ever had.

Everywhere in the first district, you can hear the sound of hooves on cobblestone or pavement. Matching 'Fiaker' pairs are pulling tourists through the historic old town, down romantic alleys and across majestic plazas. I notice some tight neck muscles and odd hoof angles, but on this day it's not too hot, and most horses seem in good condition.

As I look up, every building is impressive. I try to keep up with their significance but soon realize it's a futile undertaking. History and beauty continue to upstage one another. The streets on the short walk to the Hofburg are teaming with tourists. I have to remind myself that I am one, too. Again I look at the Fiaker horses waiting in front of the Hofburg. Some of them are just standing there by themselves, with their drivers chatting nearby. I walk on: Volksgarten, Heldenplatz, Burgtheater, Rathaus... Eventually, with fading daylight, I make my way back to my hotel room, tired but excited for the next day.

I'm up early and this gorgeous morning calls for espresso. It is, btw., impossible to get a less than excellent one in this city. The spotlessly clean streets are still empty and I walk slowly. I notice intricate details on buildings, see bookstores I wish were open with a most interesting selection in the window, and quietly curse at Thomas Bernhard while passing his old hangout, the Braeunerhof Cafe (I have a bit of history with his book "Der Untergeher"...). I peek through a back window of the Stallburg.

When it's time to pick up my tickets at the SRS, I have to pinch myself. This is the cradle of classical dressage. This is the Spanish Riding School. While I've followed recent developments closely, this is where one can still find knowledge that's hard to come by anywhere else. The arena of course is magnificent. As most riders, I'm happy with good footing and good light, chandeliers optional.

The Morning Training is what it says: regular training of horses in different developmental stages by riders at different stages of acquired skill. Some of the stallions are a bit fresh, some walk happily on the buckle. I notice a bit more hand than I would have expected here. I also got teary-eyed at the probably best passage I've ever seen, and the smallest, most balanced canter pirouette. Proper alignment is still considered a basic prerequisite and there's not a single hind foot (that I could see) stepping left or right, nor a shoulder falling out. And where else in the world do you still see a levade?!

While Lipizzaners are small compared to most warmbloods, they most definitely have a big-horse presence. That's something that doesn't come across on video. The stallions are stunning and many are very nice movers, too.  

I'm a bit nervous as I'm heading over to the Stallburg to meet with Bereiter Helmut Oberhauser. Thankfully he is a very nice guy and my wits return as we are walking around the Stallburg where I get to meet his beautiful stallions and learn all sorts of things. For example that they change holding the reins from 3:1 to 2:2 for the jumps as they are better able to give this way. They regularly feed treats during training as a reward, but not back in the barn to avoid that the stallions beg. In the amazing tack room, I find myself petting the barn cat who is blissfully snoozing on a box of those beige SRS deer-leather breeches that apparently are pretty hot in the summer. We chat about the fact that the stallions are kept in stalls without turnout, but are worked, get time in the walker and rides to a nearby park. We look at the intricate (and expensive!) stitching of the eagle on the red show saddle pads. I am truly thankful for his time and hope to be able to invite him back to the Bay Area for a clinic.

I spend a bit more time there on the official tour and then head out to Schloss Schoenbrunn, via subway and tram. It's hard to say whether I'm more impressed with the clean, easy to use public transportation system or yet another stunning piece of architecture in a most beautiful park setting.

There was not nearly enough time to do Vienna justice. But I'm enchanted by the Lipizzaner, especially also after the visit to Piber, in a way that I did not expect. And I highly suspect that I will be back soon to explore this fledgling love affair, and the city, further.