Spitalskirche
Maria-Theresien-Strasse 2
Worth knowing
In soft pink, the Spitalskirche marks the beginning of Maria-Theresien-Straße, even though it is somewhat overshadowed by the taller adjoining buildings. The striking color, known as American Pink, was added to the façade in 1992. This was the latest in a series of developments that transformed a small Gothic chapel at the city hospital into the present-day church. After the earthquakes of 1689 and 1700, the Spitalskirche received its Baroque structure based on plans by court architect Johann Martin Gumpp. The fresco of the Virgin Mary above the organ, the stucco figures of the apostles on the columns with putti and Baroque ornamentation, the marble main altar, and the side altars made of wood imitating marble—along with the Gothic crucifix—survived the next wave of destruction when a bomb hit the building during World War II air raids. Renovation took place between 1959 and 1962. Innsbruck artist Hans Andre succeeded in bringing the Baroque paintings, such as the ceiling fresco of the Holy Spirit, into the modern era. He depicted the seven Christian virtues—wisdom, justice, courage, temperance, faith, love, and hope—after the horrors of the war years. Above the entrance gate stands the programmatic inscription: “In medio civitatis ecclesia illibata”—a church without blemish in the heart of the city. The church is dedicated to the Holy Spirit, patron of healing, comfort, and courage in the face of life’s burdens.
The history of the Spitalskirche and the former city hospital is closely linked to the development of healthcare, elderly care, and poor relief in Innsbruck. This chapter of the city’s history illustrates how care for subjects and citizens shifted from the Church toward the modern welfare state. As people of the 21st century, we expect to leave a hospital healthy. Until the 18th century, hospitals—including Innsbruck’s—were more often the final stop before the afterlife, under Christian care and supervision. The Innsbruck hospital chapel was first mentioned in a 1307 charter by Duke Henry of Carinthia and Tyrol. The hospital was founded by a charitable brotherhood of Innsbruck citizens and funded by church donations and endowments from wealthy locals. The 14th century was marked by increasing urbanization. Cities enjoyed privileges due to their economic importance. The civic hospital was intended to care for key workers. The hospice was located outside the city walls near the cemetery to minimize the spread of disease in the narrow streets. Its role was not only to care for the sick but also to support the destitute. Families remained the primary safety net in emergencies. Craftsmen organized some social care for incapacitated members or their widows and orphans themselves. People without families—servants, laborers, and the childless—were not abandoned, contrary to common belief. Poor women could give birth in hospitals. Elderly and needy citizens received clothing, food, and care. Orphans and illegitimate children were also taken in.
Institutions like Innsbruck’s hospital distinguished the city from villages, where healthcare and elderly care were far worse and laborers often worked until death. Wealthier members of the brotherhood, as paying members, could expect better care than non-members. The hospital also distributed alms to the poorest. This can be seen as an early form of social welfare at the municipal level. This system persisted for a long time. Until the 19th century—and in many areas until after World War I—it was not the central state but the municipality or benefactors who cared for the poor, sick, orphans, elderly, and disabled. Emperor Maximilian I, for example, planned a hospital at today’s Domplatz for old and sick members of his court, later named the “Kaiserspital.” The Church often co-organized this social work.
With industrialization and urban growth, the old hospital in the midst of residential buildings became too small. Innsbruck society changed not only in size. Workers and employees could no longer rely on the safety net of extended rural families in case of illness or accidents. Beda Weber described the old care facility in his Handbook for Travelers in Tyrol as part of his Innsbruck guide:
"Next to the church is the hospital, whose distinguished benefactor is King Henry of Bohemia, who in 1307 assigned considerable revenues to it. The number of patients, the mentally ill, and pensioners exceeds at least 100… Next to the hospital is a so-called brother house for 36 poor women and maids, who enjoy free lodging, laundry, firewood, and six kreuzers daily. From the hospital one steps onto the cemetery, surrounded by gardens and fields and enclosed by arcades."
Until the discoveries in microbiology and medicine in the second half of the 19th century by Robert Koch (1843 - 1910) and Louis Pasteur (1922 - 1895), hygiene was an underestimated factor in nursing.
"The entire hospital complex had only one well in the courtyard, from which water had to be carried to all rooms. There was no sewer system; only cesspits. The kitchen was on the ground floor, and directly behind it was the mortuary, where bodies were laid out. The cellar served as a drying and disinfection room. The sisters had to heat a baking oven until all lice were dead. The garden was divided for male and female patients. In a small building, the mentally ill were housed; two rooms were for calm patients, then three cells for the violent and a tea kitchen… Typhus patients were not isolated at all. If delirious patients tried to leave their beds, a fixed grille was simply placed around the bed."
Even before the relocation, the city hospital was a teaching hospital closely linked to the university. Teaching was one of the main reasons for the move and expansion; rapid population growth was another. After the university reopened in 1826, there were only about 20 students—today’s scale of study and clinical operations would have been unimaginable. In 1888, the hospital moved to its current location at the western end of Anichstraße, where it grew to impressive size. Innsbruck’s clinic is now renowned and respected far beyond Tyrol’s borders. The complex is almost a city district of its own, and Tirol Kliniken is the largest employer in the region.
Of Maultasch, Habsburgs and the Black Death
Between the last Count of Andechs and the first Tyrolean territorial prince from the House of Habsburg lay 115 eventful years in the history of the city of Innsbruck. After the extinction of the Andechs line, the Counts of Tyrol guided the fortunes of the region for about a hundred years and thus also largely shaped the development of the city of Innsbruck. Meinhard II of Tyrol (1239–1295) succeeded, through skillful politics and a measure of good fortune, in expanding his territory. From his ancestral seat in Merano, he managed to unite what had previously been a patchwork of lands into a coherent county. Alongside the Prince-Bishops of Brixen and Trent—who were not politically disempowered until the 19th century—the Counts of Tyrol were the most powerful territorial lords in the region that today encompasses Trentino as well as North and South Tyrol. Meinhard’s more modern and tightly administered territories were politically and economically closer to the pulse of the times. His advisers included Florentine merchants and bankers, who at the time represented the most advanced financial and commercial expertise in Europe. Under his rule, a codified territorial law was created, granting estates, entrepreneurs, and subjects a certain degree of legal security. For the first time, all possessions in Tyrol were uniformly recorded in a land register (Urbar). Financial matters were also brought under centralized control. Meinhard broke the bishops’ monopoly on coinage and had coins minted bearing the Tyrolean eagle, following Italian models. This significantly curtailed the de facto power of the Church. Although the bishops of Brixen and Trent remained landowners and feudal lords, their imperial immediacy had become largely formal, as their ties and dependencies on the County of Tyrol had grown too close. In 1254, the territory was no longer referred to merely as the “land in the mountains,” but officially as the Dominium Tirolis—the Lordship of Tyrol. Innsbruck also grew under Meinhard’s rule, with approximately 1,500 inhabitants settling there. Beyond the city walls, the Neustadt began to develop in the area where Maria-Theresien-Straße today invites leisurely strolling. Meinhard found his final resting place at Stams Abbey, which today is known as a training center for Tyrol’s winter sports elite.
His son and successor as Tyrolean territorial prince, Duke Henry of Carinthia (1265–1335), ranked among the most important nobles in the Holy Roman Empire as King of Bohemia. Owing to his extensive possessions in southeastern Europe, Henry was one of the most powerful princes of his time. He was a strong supporter of cities, recognizing their growing importance. In Innsbruck, he promoted the construction of the civic hospital in the Neustadt. However, Henry had no male heir. Before his death, he ensured that his daughter Margaret of Tyrol-Gorizia (1318–1369) could succeed him. She assumed power as territorial princess at the age of seventeen. This placed the young ruler at the center of power struggles among the leading dynasties of the age: the Habsburgs, the Wittelsbachs, and the Luxembourgs. She entered marital alliances with two of these houses; the third would ultimately inherit the County of Tyrol and thus the city of Innsbruck. After her father’s death, Margaret was married to John Henry of Luxembourg, the son of the new King of Bohemia. John Henry was even younger than his wife and primarily served as a political foothold for his father in Tyrol. He was opposed by the Habsburgs and Wittelsbachs as well as by the local nobility. His rule proved disastrous. In the Hall saltworks—leased to Florentine financiers and, alongside customs duties, the backbone of Tyrol’s economy—labor unrest broke out. Despite severe financial difficulties, the court of John Henry was reportedly conducted in an extravagant manner. In 1341, with the support of Emperor Louis of Bavaria, a Wittelsbach, the Tyrolean estates expelled John Henry from the country in a coup planned together with Margaret. Contemporary sources hostile to Margaret portrayed her in highly polemical and defamatory terms. [Here, contemporary scandalous descriptions and explicit allegations are omitted or neutralized.] An imperial chronicler sympathetic to the emperor described John Henry as incapable of fulfilling marital duties, allegedly due to immaturity. These rumors were deliberately circulated throughout the empire to enable the emperor to install his son, Louis of Brandenburg, as Margaret’s new husband and thus as ruler of the strategically important transit territory of Tyrol. This coup, which entered history as the “Tyrolean marital scandal,” triggered a far-reaching crisis. Even the philosopher and critic of papal authority William of Ockham commented on the affair. The issue was not merely the separation itself, but the fact that Margaret had not been formally divorced from her first husband at the time of her second marriage. The emperor and his supporters regarded the marriage between John Henry and Margaret as unconsummated and therefore invalid. The fourth major political power of Central Europe at the time, the papacy, took a different view. Pope Benedict XII excommunicated the emperor and his son because of what he considered an unlawful union between Margaret and Louis of Brandenburg. Beyond moral concerns, the pope also had political motives. Both the papacy and the Habsburgs were in armed conflict with the Wittelsbach emperor and sought to weaken his influence. For medieval society, such an interdict was among the harshest of punishments, as it prohibited the celebration of Mass and the administration of communion throughout the land. It was likely during this period that Margaret acquired the popular nickname “Maultasch” and was described as particularly unattractive. No contemporary portraits exist that would indicate any physical deformity. The images of Margaret Maultasch known today date at the earliest from the late 15th century, when the medieval scandal was first reinterpreted by later historians.
Margaret’s reign was marked by crises for which she bore little responsibility, yet for which she was often blamed. The 14th century brought a period of climatic warming that led to severe locust plagues, including in Innsbruck. Crop failures and famine followed. In addition, after the fire of 1333 in Anbruggen, another major blaze devastated Wilten and Innsbruck seven years later, destroying the parish church of St. James. From 1348 to 1350, the plague swept across Europe. Arriving from Venice via Trent and the Adige Valley, the Black Death reached Innsbruck and dramatically reduced the population. In some parts of Tyrol, more than half of the inhabitants perished. The horrifying manner in which victims died left a deep impression on the deeply religious population. Archival sources provide little detailed information on the outbreak of the plague in Innsbruck itself, but its consequences were devastating, as elsewhere in Europe. In her will, a woman from Innsbruck afflicted by the plague spoke of the “common dying that goes through the land.” Many people interpreted famine and pestilence as divine punishment and as consequences of the papal ban, blaming Margaret and her husband Louis. In reality, the causes of disease and suffering lay far beyond ecclesiastical sanctions and propaganda. Like many medieval cities, Innsbruck lacked paved streets, sewage systems, and reliable drinking water supplies. Humans and animals shared the confined space within the city walls, resulting in highly unhygienic living conditions. Advances in medical knowledge came primarily from Italy. In Salerno, the first medical school had emerged in the 11th century. Under Emperor Frederick II, the professions of physician and apothecary were formally separated and regulated in 1241. In Innsbruck, a pharmacy was first mentioned in 1303 and officially founded in 1326. Located in the Schöpferhaus at today’s Herzog-Friedrich-Straße 19, it served as both court and city pharmacy and is now considered the oldest still-existing pharmacy in Austria.
After the Wittelsbachs, Luxembourgers and Habsburgs had fought over Tyrol for decades, a happy ending was finally reached. Rudolf IV of the House of Habsburg intervened with the Pope and was able to negotiate the lifting of the interdict in 1359 in exchange for considerable financial compensation at the expense of Margaret and Louis. At the same time, a document is said to have been drawn up that is now considered a forgery: in this document, Margaret bequeathed the land of Tyrol to Rudolf IV and the Habsburg family.
Soon thereafter, this transfer of power took effect. One year after the death of Margaret’s husband Louis in 1361, her son Meinhard III also died. According to the account of Filippo Villani, written around 1400, Margaret was rumored to have been involved in both deaths—an allegation that remains historically unproven. In 1363, with the consent of the Tyrolean nobility, Margaret formally transferred the governance of Tyrol to Rudolf IV of Habsburg. Tyrol thus became part of the Habsburg dominions, which already included the Duchy of Austria. The Dukes of Bavaria from the House of Wittelsbach refused to recognize this inheritance treaty and attempted to assert their claims by force of arms. In 1363, they marched toward Innsbruck. Rudolf IV, however, had secured the support of key local nobles and the cities of Innsbruck and Hall. The fortified city successfully withstood the attack. After consolidating power, Rudolf confirmed the city hospital and granted temporary customs exemptions as well as the right to levy major tolls.
With the acquisition of Tyrol, the Habsburg family was able to close an important geographical gap within its sphere of influence. Although there were repeated incursions by Bavarian troops, for example the abbot of Wilten Abbey was abducted and taken hostage, the Inn Valley and Innsbruck were gladly part of the Habsburg lands. The incorporation of the city into the much larger territory of the Habsburgs meant that Innsbruck became even more important, while the actual capital Merano was further marginalised. In addition to the north-south transport of goods, the city on the Inn had now also become a west-east transport hub between the eastern Austrian lands and the old Habsburg possessions in the west. For the survivors of the great plague wave of 1348 and the political turmoil, there was an economic upswing. Labour had become scarce due to the shrinking population, but greater resources were available per capita. For those Innsbruck residents who had survived the turbulent first half of the 14th century, better times were to come.
Little remains in Innsbruck’s cityscape from the era of Margaret Maultasch and her husbands. Political and economic hardship, warfare, plague, fires, earthquakes, and later building activity erased much of the medieval city. Yet the memory of Margaret endures in legend. She remains one of the most famous female figures in Tyrolean history. Conflicting accounts written even during her lifetime allow room for interpretation. Her biography could easily serve as the template for a character in a modern historical drama. Whether she was a ruthless schemer or an innocent pawn of greater powers remains an open question. Margaret and her successor Rudolf IV of Habsburg are commemorated in stone at the fountain on Bozner Platz, formerly known as Margarethenplatz.
Believe, Church and Power
The abundance of churches, chapels, crucifixes, statues, and paintings in public spaces strikes many visitors to Innsbruck from other countries as unusual. Not only places of worship, but also many private houses are decorated with depictions of Jesus, Mary, saints, and biblical scenes. For centuries, the Christian faith and its institutions shaped everyday life throughout Europe, and Innsbruck—as a residence city of the strictly Catholic Habsburgs and the capital of the self-proclaimed Holy Land of Tyrol—was particularly richly endowed with ecclesiastical buildings. In terms of number and scale relative to the conditions of earlier times, churches appear as gigantic features in the cityscape. In the 16th century, Innsbruck, with its approximately 5,000 inhabitants, possessed several churches whose splendor and size surpassed every other building, including the palaces of the aristocracy. Wilten Abbey was a vast complex in the midst of a small farming village that had developed around it.
The spatial dimensions of these places of worship reflect their importance within the political and social structure. For many inhabitants of Innsbruck, the Church was not only a moral authority but also a secular landowner. The Bishop of Brixen was formally equal in rank to the territorial prince. Peasants worked on the bishop’s estates just as they did on those of a secular ruler. The clergy exercised both taxation and judicial authority over their subjects, and ecclesiastical landowners were often regarded as particularly demanding. At the same time, it was also the clergy in Innsbruck who were largely responsible for social welfare, healthcare, care for the poor and orphans, food distribution, and education. The Church’s influence extended into the material world in a way comparable to how the modern state operates today through tax offices, police, schools, and employment services. What democracy, parliament, and the market economy represent for us today, bishops, the Bible, Christian devotional literature, and parish priests represented for people of earlier centuries: a reality that maintained order.
It would be incorrect to believe that all clergymen were cynical power-hungry figures who exploited their uneducated subjects. The majority of both clergy and nobility were devout and God-fearing, albeit in a manner that is difficult to comprehend from today’s perspective. It was not the case that every superstition was blindly accepted or that people were arbitrarily executed based on anonymous accusations. In the early modern period, violations of religion and morals were tried before secular courts and punished severely. Charges were brought under the term heresy, which encompassed a wide range of offenses. Sodomy—meaning any sexual act not serving reproduction—sorcery, witchcraft, and blasphemy, in short any deviation from the correct faith, could be punished by burning. The act of burning was intended both to purify the condemned and to destroy them and their sinful behavior completely, thereby removing evil from the community. For a long time, the Church regulated everyday social life down to the smallest details. Church bells structured people’s daily schedules. Their sound called people to work or worship, or informed the community of a death through tolling. People were able to distinguish individual bell signals and their meanings. Sundays and holidays structured time. Fasting days regulated diet. Family life, sexuality, and individual behavior were expected to conform to Church-prescribed morality. For many people, salvation in the afterlife was more important than happiness on earth, which was seen as predetermined by the course of time and divine will. Purgatory, the Last Judgment, and the torments of hell were real and served to frighten and discipline even adults.
While parts of the Innsbruck bourgeoisie were at least gently awakened by Enlightenment ideas after the Napoleonic Wars, the majority of the population remained committed to a mixture of conservative Catholicism and superstitious popular piety. Religiosity was not necessarily a matter of origin or social class, as repeatedly demonstrated by social, media, and political conflicts along the fault line between liberals and conservatives. Although freedom of religion was legally enshrined in the December Constitution of 1867, the state and religion remained closely linked. The Wahrmund Affair, which originated at the University of Innsbruck in the early 20th century and spread throughout the Austro-Hungarian Empire, was just one of many examples of the influence the Church exercised well into the 1970s. Shortly before the First World War, this political crisis, which would affect the entire monarchy, began in Innsbruck. Ludwig Wahrmund (1861–1932) was Professor of Canon Law at the Faculty of Law of the University of Innsbruck. Originally selected by the Tyrolean governor to strengthen Catholicism at what was considered an overly liberal university, Wahrmund was a proponent of enlightened theology. Unlike conservative representatives in the clergy and politics, reform Catholics viewed the Pope as a spiritual leader but not as a secular authority. In Wahrmund’s view, students should reduce the gap and tensions between Church and modernity rather than cement them. Since 1848, divisions between liberal-national, socialist, conservative, and reform-oriented Catholic interest groups and parties had deepened. Greater German nationalist-minded Innsbruck citizens oriented themselves toward the modern Prussian state under Chancellor Bismarck, who sought to curtail the influence of the Church or subordinate it to the state. One of the fiercest fault lines ran through the education and higher education system, centered on the question of how the supernatural practices and views of the Church—still influential in universities—could be reconciled with modern science. Liberal and Catholic students despised one another and repeatedly clashed. Until 1906, Wahrmund was a member of the Leo Society, which aimed to promote science on a Catholic basis, before becoming chairman of the Innsbruck local branch of the Association for Free Schools, which advocated complete de-clericalization of the education system. He evolved from a reform Catholic into an advocate of a complete separation of Church and state. His lectures repeatedly attracted the attention of the authorities. Fueled by the media, the culture war between liberal German nationalists, conservatives, Christian Socials, and Social Democrats found an ideal projection surface in the person of Ludwig Wahrmund. What followed were riots, strikes, brawls between student fraternities of different political orientations, and mutual defamation among politicians. The “Away from Rome” movement of the German radical Georg Ritter von Schönerer (1842–1921) collided on the stage of the University of Innsbruck with the political Catholicism of the Christian Socials. German nationalist academics were supported by the likewise anti-clerical Social Democrats and by Mayor Greil, while the Tyrolean provincial government sided with the conservatives. The Wahrmund Affair reached the Imperial Council as a culture-war debate. For the Christian Socials, it was a “struggle of liberal-minded Jewry against Christianity,” in which “Zionists, German culture warriors, Czech and Ruthenian radicals” presented themselves as an “international coalition,” a “liberal ring of Jewish radicalism and radical Slavic movements.” Wahrmund, on the other hand, in the generally heated atmosphere, referred to Catholic students as “traitors and parasites.” When Wahrmund had one of his speeches printed in 1908, in which he questioned God, Christian morality, and Catholic veneration of saints, he was charged with blasphemy. After further, sometimes violent assemblies on both conservative and anti-clerical sides, student riots, and strikes, university operations even had to be suspended temporarily. Wahrmund was first placed on leave and later transferred to the German University in Prague. Even in the First Republic, the connection between Church and state remained strong. Ignaz Seipel, a Christian Social politician known as the “Iron Prelate,” rose in the 1920s to the highest office of the state. Federal Chancellor Engelbert Dollfuss viewed his corporative state as a construct based on Catholicism and as a bulwark against socialism. After the Second World War, Church and politics in Tyrol were still closely linked in the persons of Bishop Rusch and Chancellor Wallnöfer. Only then did a serious separation begin. Faith and the Church still have a fixed place in the everyday life of Innsbruck’s residents, even if often unnoticed. Church withdrawals in recent decades have dented official membership numbers, and leisure events are better attended than Sunday Mass. Nevertheless, the Roman Catholic Church still owns extensive land in and around Innsbruck, including outside the walls of monasteries and educational institutions. Numerous schools in and around Innsbruck are also influenced by conservative forces and the Church. And anyone who enjoys a public holiday, taps Easter eggs together, or lights a candle on a Christmas tree does not need to be Christian to act—disguised as tradition—in the name of Jesus.
Baroque: art movement and art of living
Anyone travelling in Austria will be familiar with the domes and onion domes of churches in villages and towns. This form of church tower originated during the Counter-Reformation and is a typical feature of the Baroque architectural style. They are also predominant in Innsbruck's cityscape. Innsbruck's most famous places of worship, such as the cathedral, St John's Church and the Jesuit Church, are in the Baroque style. Places of worship were meant to be magnificent and splendid, a symbol of the victory of true faith. Religiousness was reflected in art and culture: grand drama, pathos, suffering, splendour and glory combined to create the Baroque style, which had a lasting impact on the entire Catholic-oriented sphere of influence of the Habsburgs and their allies between Spain and Hungary.
The cityscape of Innsbruck changed enormously. The Gumpps and Johann Georg Fischer as master builders as well as Franz Altmutter's paintings have had a lasting impact on Innsbruck to this day. The Old Country House in the historic city centre, the New Country House in Maria-Theresien-Straße, the countless palazzi, paintings, figures - the Baroque was the style-defining element of the House of Habsburg in the 17th and 18th centuries and became an integral part of everyday life. The bourgeoisie did not want to be inferior to the nobles and princes and had their private houses built in the Baroque style. Pictures of saints, depictions of the Mother of God and the heart of Jesus adorned farmhouses.
Baroque was not just an architectural style, it was an attitude to life that began after the end of the Thirty Years' War. The Turkish threat from the east, which culminated in the two sieges of Vienna, determined the foreign policy of the empire, while the Reformation dominated domestic politics. Baroque culture was a central element of Catholicism and its political representation in public, the counter-model to Calvin's and Luther's brittle and austere approach to life. Holidays with a Christian background were introduced to brighten up people's everyday lives. Architecture, music and painting were rich, opulent and lavish. In theatres such as the Comedihaus dramas with a religious background were performed in Innsbruck. Stations of the cross with chapels and depictions of the crucified Jesus dotted the landscape. Popular piety in the form of pilgrimages and the veneration of the Virgin Mary and saints found its way into everyday church life. Multiple crises characterised people's everyday lives. In addition to war and famine, the plague broke out particularly frequently in the 17th century. The Baroque piety was also used to educate the subjects. Even though the sale of indulgences was no longer a common practice in the Catholic Church after the 16th century, there was still a lively concept of heaven and hell. Through a virtuous life, i.e. a life in accordance with Catholic values and good behaviour as a subject towards the divine order, one could come a big step closer to paradise. The so-called Christian edification literature was popular among the population after the school reformation of the 18th century and showed how life should be lived. The suffering of the crucified Christ for humanity was seen as a symbol of the hardship of the subjects on earth within the feudal system. People used votive images to ask for help in difficult times or to thank the Mother of God for dangers and illnesses they had overcome.
The historian Ernst Hanisch described the Baroque and the influence it had on the Austrian way of life as follows:
„Österreich entstand in seiner modernen Form als Kreuzzugsimperialismus gegen die Türken und im Inneren gegen die Reformatoren. Das brachte Bürokratie und Militär, im Äußeren aber Multiethnien. Staat und Kirche probierten den intimen Lebensbereich der Bürger zu kontrollieren. Jeder musste sich durch den Beichtstuhl reformieren, die Sexualität wurde eingeschränkt, die normengerechte Sexualität wurden erzwungen. Menschen wurden systematisch zum Heucheln angeleitet.“
The rituals and submissive behaviour towards the authorities left their mark on everyday culture, which still distinguishes Catholic countries such as Austria and Italy from Protestant regions such as Germany, England or Scandinavia. The Austrians' passion for academic titles has its origins in the Baroque hierarchies. The expression Baroque prince describes a particularly patriarchal and patronising politician who knows how to charm his audience with grand gestures. While political objectivity is valued in Germany, the style of Austrian politicians is theatrical, in keeping with the Austrian bon mot of "Schaumamal".
The master builders Gumpp and the baroqueisation of Innsbruck
The works of the Gumpp family still strongly characterise the appearance of Innsbruck today. The baroque parts of the city in particular can be traced back to them. The founder of the dynasty in Tyrol, Christoph Gumpp (1600-1672), was actually a carpenter. However, his talent had chosen him for higher honours. The profession of architect or artist did not yet exist at that time; even Michelangelo and Leonardo da Vinci were considered craftsmen. After working on the Holy Trinity Church, the Swabian-born Gumpp followed in the footsteps of the Italian master builders who had set the tone under Ferdinand II. At the behest of Leopold V, Gumpp travelled to Italy to study theatre buildings and to learn from his contemporary style-setting colleagues his expertise for the planned royal palace. Comedihaus polish up.
His official work as court architect began in 1633. New times called for a new design, away from the Gothic-influenced architecture of the Middle Ages and the horrors of the Thirty Years' War. Over the following decades, Innsbruck underwent a complete renovation under the regency of Claudia de Medici. Gumpp passed on his title to the next two generations within the family. The Gumpps were not only active as master builders. They were also carpenters, painters, engravers and architects, which allowed them to create a wide range of works similar to the Tiroler Moderne around Franz Baumann and Clemens Holzmeister at the beginning of the 20th century to realise projects holistically. They were also involved as planners in the construction of the fortifications for national defence during the Thirty Years' War.
Christoph Gumpp's masterpiece, however, was the construction of the Comedihaus in the former ballroom. The oversized dimensions of the then trend-setting theatre, which was one of the first of its kind in Europe, not only allowed plays to be performed, but also water games with real ships and elaborate horse ballet performances. The Comedihaus was a total work of art in and of itself, which in its significance at the time can be compared to the festival theatre in Bayreuth in the 19th century or the Elbphilharmonie today.
His descendants Johann Martin Gumpp the Elder, Georg Anton Gumpp and Johann Martin Gumpp the Younger were responsible for many of the buildings that still characterise the townscape today. The Wilten collegiate church, the Mariahilfkirche, the Johanneskirche and the Spitalskirche were all designed by the Gumpps. In addition to designing churches and their work as court architects, they also made a name for themselves as planners of secular buildings. Many of Innsbruck's town houses and city palaces, such as the Taxispalais or the Altes Landhaus in Maria-Theresien-Straße, were designed by them. With the loss of the city's status as a royal seat, the magnificent large-scale commissions declined and with them the fame of the Gumpp family. Their former home is now home to the Munding confectionery in the historic city centre. In the Pradl district, Gumppstraße commemorates the Innsbruck dynasty of master builders.
Air raids on Innsbruck
Wie der Lauf der Geschichte der Stadt unterliegt auch ihr Aussehen einem ständigen Wandel. Besonders gut sichtbare Veränderungen im Stadtbild erzeugten die Jahre rund um 1500 und zwischen 1850 bis 1900, als sich politische, wirtschaftliche und gesellschaftliche Veränderungen in besonders schnellem Tempo abspielten. Das einschneidendste Ereignis mit den größten Auswirkungen auf das Stadtbild waren aber wohl die Luftangriffe auf die Stadt im Zweiten Weltkrieg, als aus der „Heimatfront“ der Nationalsozialisten ein tatsächlicher Kriegsschauplatz wurde. Die Lage am Fuße des Brenners war über Jahrhunderte ein Segen für die Stadt gewesen, nun wurde sie zum Verhängnis. Innsbruck war ein wichtiger Versorgungsbahnhof für den Nachschub an der Italienfront. In der Nacht vom 15. auf den 16. Dezember 1943 erfolgte der erste alliierte Luftangriff auf die schlecht vorbereitete Stadt. 269 Menschen fielen den Bomben zum Opfer, 500 wurden verletzt und mehr als 1500 obdachlos. Über 300 Gebäude, vor allem in Wilten und der Innenstadt, wurden zerstört und beschädigt. Am Montag, den 18. Dezember fanden sich in den Innsbrucker Nachrichten, dem Vorgänger der Tiroler Tageszeitung, auf der Titelseite allerhand propagandistische Meldungen vom erfolgreichen und heroischen Abwehrkampf der Deutschen Wehrmacht an allen Fronten gegenüber dem Bündnis aus Anglo-Amerikanern und dem Russen, nicht aber vom Bombenangriff auf Innsbruck.
Bombenterror über Innsbruck
Innsbruck, 17. Dez. Der 16. Dezember wird in der Geschichte Innsbrucks als der Tag vermerkt bleiben, an dem der Luftterror der Anglo-Amerikaner die Gauhauptstadt mit der ganzen Schwere dieser gemeinen und brutalen Kampfweise, die man nicht mehr Kriegführung nennen kann, getroffen hat. In mehreren Wellen flogen feindliche Kampfverbände die Stadt an und richteten ihre Angriffe mit zahlreichen Spreng- und Brandbomben gegen die Wohngebiete. Schwerste Schäden an Wohngebäuden, an Krankenhäusern und anderen Gemeinschaftseinrichtungen waren das traurige, alle bisherigen Schäden übersteigende Ergebnis dieses verbrecherischen Überfalles, der über zahlreiche Familien unserer Stadt schwerste Leiden und empfindliche Belastung der Lebensführung, das bittere Los der Vernichtung liebgewordenen Besitzes, der Zerstörung von Heim und Herd und der Heimatlosigkeit gebracht hat. Grenzenloser Haß und das glühende Verlangen diese unmenschliche Untat mit schonungsloser Schärfe zu vergelten, sind die einzige Empfindung, die außer der Auseinandersetzung mit den eigenen und den Gemeinschaftssorgen alle Gemüter bewegt. Wir alle blicken voll Vertrauen auf unsere Soldaten und erwarten mit Zuversicht den Tag, an dem der Führer den Befehl geben wird, ihre geballte Kraft mit neuen Waffen gegen den Feind im Westen einzusetzen, der durch seinen Mord- und Brandterror gegen Wehrlose neuerdings bewiesen hat, daß er sich von den asiatischen Bestien im Osten durch nichts unterscheidet – es wäre denn durch größere Feigheit. Die Luftschutzeinrichtungen der Stadt haben sich ebenso bewährt, wie die Luftschutzdisziplin der Bevölkerung. Bis zur Stunde sind 26 Gefallene gemeldet, deren Zahl sich aller Voraussicht nach nicht wesentlich erhöhen dürfte. Die Hilfsmaßnahmen haben unter Führung der Partei und tatkräftigen Mitarbeit der Wehrmacht sofort und wirkungsvoll eingesetzt.
Diese durch Zensur und Gleichschaltung der Medien fantasievoll gestaltete Nachricht schaffte es gerade mal auf Seite 3. Prominenter wollte man die schlechte Vorbereitung der Stadt auf das absehbare Bombardement wohl nicht dem Volkskörper präsentieren. Ganz so groß wie 1938 nach dem Anschluss, als Hitler am 5. April von 100.000 Menschen in Innsbruck begeistert empfangen worden war, war die Begeisterung für den Nationalsozialismus nicht mehr. Zu groß waren die Schäden an der Stadt und die persönlichen, tragischen Verluste in der Bevölkerung. Dass die sterblichen Überreste der Opfer des Luftangriffes vom 15. Dezember 1943 am heutigen Landhausplatz vor dem neu errichteten Gauhaus als Symbol nationalsozialistischer Macht im Stadtbild aufgebahrt wurden, zeugt von trauriger Ironie des Schicksals.
Im Jänner 1944 begann man Luftschutzstollen und andere Schutzmaßnahmen zu errichten. Die Arbeiten wurden zu einem großen Teil von Gefangenen des Konzentrationslagers Reichenau durchgeführt. Insgesamt wurde Innsbruck zwischen 1943 und 1945 zweiundzwanzig Mal angegriffen. Dabei wurden knapp 3833, also knapp 50%, der Gebäude in der Stadt beschädigt und 504 Menschen starben. In den letzten Kriegsmonaten war an Normalität nicht mehr zu denken. Die Bevölkerung lebte in dauerhafter Angst. Die Schulen wurden bereits vormittags geschlossen. An einen geregelten Alltag war nicht mehr zu denken. Die Stadt wurde zum Glück nur Opfer gezielter Angriffe. Deutsche Städte wie Hamburg oder Dresden wurden von den Alliierten mit Feuerstürmen mit Zehntausenden Toten innerhalb weniger Stunden komplett dem Erdboden gleichgemacht. Viele Gebäude wie die Jesuitenkirche, das Stift Wilten, die Servitenkirche, der Dom, das Hallenbad in der Amraserstraße wurden getroffen. Besondere Behandlung erfuhren während der Angriffe historische Gebäude und Denkmäler. Das Goldene Dachl was protected with a special construction, as was Maximilian's sarcophagus in the Hofkirche. The figures in the Hofkirche, the Schwarzen Mannder, wurden nach Kundl gebracht. Die Madonna Lucas Cranachs aus dem Innsbrucker Dom wurde während des Krieges ins Ötztal überführt.
Der Luftschutzstollen südlich von Innsbruck an der Brennerstraße und die Kennzeichnungen von Häusern mit Luftschutzkellern mit ihren schwarzen Vierecken und den weißen Kreisen und Pfeilen kann man heute noch begutachten. Zwei der Stellungen der Flugabwehrgeschütze, mittlerweile nur noch zugewachsene Mauerreste, können am Lanser Köpfl oberhalb von Innsbruck besichtigt werden. In Pradl, wo neben Wilten die meisten Gebäude beschädigt wurden, weisen an den betroffenen Häusern Bronzetafeln mit dem Hinweis auf den Wiederaufbau auf einen Bombentreffer hin.