From the 12th century until Napoleon marched in and had his way in the early 1800s, Würzburg was a prince-bishopric. The prince-bishop would not only be bishop to a church, but also ruled in the region. So while they were under the pope and the archbishop, they also ranked directly under the Holy Roman Emperor. Besides taking care of his region, he would work with the emperor and all the other princes on the government of the empire through imperial diets. For years the rulers resided in the Marienberg fortress, until the prince-bishop von Schönborn decided he needed something more modern and worthier of his high status. After only about 60 years of construction, it was completed in 1780: The Würzburg Residenz. Too bad for them, they didn’t get to enjoy it for long, because Napoleon had other plans. After some back and forth during the Napoleonic wars, Würzburg joined Bavaria.
In the good old days, if you would arrive to see the prince bishop, your carriage would drive into the covered area in front of the staircase. It was large enough for your carriage to make a big turn so your driver could race off while you headed for the grand staircase. If you were worthy, meaning basically you’d be an emperor or high member of the clergy, the prince bishop would greet you at eye level, otherwise he’d meet you someway up the stairs. The steps of the staircase are quite low, so even ladies with big dresses could elegantly ascend, without having to lift up their dresses and potentially show their ankles. Your walk was risk-free. Although perhaps your mind would be blown by the whole scene, causing you to trip on your own dress.
If you safely made it up, you got an increasingly better view of the biggest remaining fresco that was painted as one whole by Giovanni Battista Tiepolo, a rococo painter from Venice. Many frescoes are painted as different parts, like for instance the sistine chapel. The sides each represent a continent: Europe straight ahead when you finish the steps, Asia to the right, Africa to the left and America behind you. My visit included a free guided tour, so I got explanations of the images. It was all very 18th century. The painter had most likely never encountered the type of people and animals he painted. Elephant ears were inside out, ostrich legs were so muscular they looked human. Europe was the most civilized of course, with Asia a close second as their culture flew over and gave Europe a lot.
The court architect, Balthasar Neumann, worked closely with Tiepolo. Together they figured out ways to make the ceilings seem 3D. Giovanni painted shadows and Neumann’s sculptures added real 3D elements that transitioned seamlessly into the painting. For example, you see a man whose head is sculpted, while the body is in the painting. Or, weapons stick out of the painting in the sculptures at the windows. It’s especially noticeable in the imperial hall. I also loved that the sculpted curtains on the ceiling of the white room looked so real that one can wonder how they’re washed.
The vast majority of the palace was destroyed in the allied bombing that ruined the inner city less than a month before the American troops took over Würzburg. Tiepolo’s frescoes were saved though. Even though the roof above the staircase was burning, the layer with the fresco was strong enough to hold. Luckily a member of the US army recognized the value of the painting and had the roof replaced to protect it. In the rooms that weren’t part of the guided tour and you could explore by yourself instead, only a few items were saved because they’d been in storage. The rooms have all been restored based on pre-war images. That doesn’t make them any less impressive though.
I’ve seen a bunch of palaces and the ideas are always quite similar. There is a long walkway that links up a number of rooms, aiming to impress you incrementally as you continue your walk. There are always a few that stand out though. In Würzburg, it’s by far the mirror room and the green room. The mirror room shines with the reflections of all the gold. In the reconstruction, workers spent 30.000 hours putting on gold leaf. There are beautiful paintings on the glass of the mirrors. It’s all very cute with flowers, birds and bunnies. The green lacquered room had a gorgeous floor, where different types of wood form almost 3D shapes. The room feels darker because of the green, which is a layer of pain on a silver base. Apparently it’s darker after the war damage as well. There were cute cherubs, vases and unique chandelier.
At the end of my visit I got to see the imperial chapel. I’d already picked up my backpack again and left the paid area of the palace. It’s kind of hidden behind a heavy door, but there are plenty of signs. It was so quiet, I was afraid to leave the sound of my footsteps. The huge painted ceiling and the marble columns were outshined, quite literally, by all the gold. It’s so richly decorated that you don’t quite know where to look. It’s truly a hidden gem in the corner of the palace. I bet the gardens are fabulous in spring and summer too. At the moment nothing was in bloom yet, but it still invited you to linger. There were stairs to a higher garden layer that provided a nice view of the palace and the tranquil garden below.
