Submitted by Dean Woodrow on the 2016 winter session program in Leipzig, Germany sponsored by the Department of Languages, Literatures and Cultures…
This past week, I was fortunate enough to visit the city of Dresden, Saxony. The city was firebombed by the British late in the Second World War as a means to break the spirit of the German people. It contained virtually no military or industrial targets of strategic importance. Unfortunately, a large portion of the historical and cultural landmarks were burned to the ground, and under the utilitarian rule of the Soviets, some of these buildings weren’t reconstructed until well after reunification. That being said, the city as it stands today is breathtaking, featuring some of the most fantastic Baroque architecture in Germany.
As we toured the city in the biting cold, I was struck by how much rich and fascinating history lurked around every corner. Every building seemed to have its own unique story. The Church of the Holy Trinity, for example, jumped out at me as being misplaced. I found it odd that a large Catholic church would be built in such a historically Protestant city. Our guide later explained that the then Elector Augustus the Strong of Saxony had it built in order to be King of Poland. Elector Augustus essentially felt like “King Augustus” had a much better ring to it, and thought he would try his hand at becoming the King of Poland, which at that time was an elected position. But the Poles were very Catholic, and the Saxons were very Protestant, so no crown for him, right? Well, around that time, Augustus had a mighty big change of heart and embraced the Catholic faith, and so ordered one of the churches of the city to be converted into a grand cathedral. So Augustus got to be King of Poland, and Dresden got a pretty Catholic church that almost no one used.
Dresden is full of these quirky stories, and to list all of the tales, I heard that day would take up more pages than most would care to read, but as a history buff, I was in heaven. I would be remiss though, if I didn’t mention the sandstone. If you just rolled your eyes at the thought of reading about a bunch of rocks in some city somewhere in Europe, I can empathize, but this is really cool, I promise.
Sandstone was what the Dresdner’s had available to build with at the time, and as it happens, sandstone is a really crappy thing to build with. While it’s very soft and can be easily carved (which they took full advantage of) it erodes very quickly. However, over time it develops a protective black coating due to chemical reactions in the stone. This generally makes most of the buildings look rather filthy, but the bright tan of freshly cut sandstone still shines through on some of the newer buildings rebuilt after they were destroyed in the war. These buildings, checkered with older black stones that were recovered from the rubble, serve as a stark visual reminder that Dresden is a rebuilt city, a city of old and new. Even though they tried to rebuild the grand churches and palaces exactly as they stood, the sandstone doesn’t lie, and the scars of war are still visible seventy years later. Eventually the sandstone will tarnish, and the old and new will blend together. But as they stand now, they serve both as a reminder of what the people of Dresden have endured, and a testament to what they have overcome.