Lutheran Church of Jesus Christ
Richard-Wagner-Strasse 2
Worth knowing
Tyrol has always understood itself as a Holy Land in a strictly Catholic sense. This did not change after 1848. Despite Emperor Franz Joseph I’s Protestant Patent of 1861, which allowed Protestants to practice their faith, Protestant services in Innsbruck could only be held in private. Unlike the surrounding communities, the city of Innsbruck did have a number of Protestants. In 1879, the city’s Protestant community purchased the school building in Kiebachgasse, as it at least offered a chapel. The Catholic press was shocked. On November 8, the newspaper Neue Tiroler Stimme published an article about the opening:
“Among the peculiarities of the land of Tyrol, unity of faith holds first place. It is the treasure that most distinguishes us from other countries. It has cost the land the hardest struggles in both old and modern times; it is the dearest legacy of our ancestors. All the deeper is our sorrow at the thought that this unity of faith has now been solemnly buried. It is now a fact that a Protestant congregation exists in Innsbruck, that it has acquired a Catholic chapel, and that it celebrates Protestant worship publicly therein.”
Public outrage, however, could not halt the liberalization of religious life. Through immigration from outside the region, the Protestant community grew and soon outgrew the small, provisional place of worship in the Old Town. Thanks to donations from private individuals, plans for building a church of their own could be made. The city of Innsbruck provided a building site in Saggen. In 1906, the church opened its doors to the Protestant congregation. Architecturally, the building’s exterior does not differ sharply from other Catholic churches of the late monarchy. It includes both neo-Gothic and neo-Romanesque elements. The pointed church tower forms a beautiful contrast to the barrel vault and round arches. Like many other structures—such as the Triumphal Arch—the Christuskirche was built using Höttinger Breccia from the old quarry below the Hungerburg. The fresco on the adjoining rectory was created by Ernst Nepo, who also painted the fresco of Saint Theresia in the entrance area of the Theresienkirche on the Hungerburg. The major difference to Baroque churches lies in the interior, where—classically Protestant—splendor and ornamentation are used very sparingly and modestly. The windows are particularly noteworthy. These small works of art with critical themes were crafted by the Tyrolean Institute for Glass Painting and Mosaics in Innsbruck. Instead of cherubs and saints, the stained-glass windows depict the Reformation figures Zwingli, Luther, and Melanchthon. The portrayal of the Swedish king Gustavus Adolphus, the Habsburgs’ adversary in the Thirty Years’ War, can certainly be read as a contemporary critique of Catholic rulers. Likewise, the depiction of the expulsion of the Zillertal Inclinants, who were forced to emigrate from the Zillertal to Prussia in 1837, did not cast the Austrian ruling house in a favorable light.
The Reformation in Tyrol
The Reformation may appear today primarily as a matter of personal belief. Thanks to the liberal legislation we enjoy in this respect, everyone is free to choose their own confession. If, however, religion is viewed as an essential component of everyday life and personal identity in past centuries, it becomes clear that it was far more than merely an expression of spirituality. The Reformation, which erupted with particular violence between the fifteenth and seventeenth centuries, represented a comprehensive social rupture comparable to the years 1848 or 1968. The accompanying social and political transformation did not come to a halt at the borders of the Holy Land of Tyrol.
It is a chicken-and-egg question whether the Reformation changed the image of humankind or whether a changing perception of existence transformed Christianity. Around 1500, new discoveries and modes of thought began to usher in the end of the Middle Ages. Artists, scholars, and clerics across Europe started to question hierarchies, order, and systems of legitimacy. With the theological reformers of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, the feudal system—placing Church and nobility above the people and bourgeoisie—began to crumble. The Bohemian cleric Jan Hus was among the first on the European mainland to question the pope’s omnipotence in the fifteenth century and was burned at the stake for it at the Council of Constance. In France and Switzerland it was Jean Calvin (1509–1564), in the Holy Roman Empire Martin Luther (1483–1546) and Thomas Müntzer (1489–1525), who challenged the Roman Church in the sixteenth century. Reform-minded clergymen and pamphlets spread the new doctrines. In Tyrol, the mining towns of Hall and Schwaz were the main centers of the Reformation in the early sixteenth century. Many miners came from Saxony and brought their own ideas about faith and Church with them. The old liturgy, with sermons delivered in incomprehensible Latin, did not align with these expectations. Preachers such as Dr. Jacob Strauß addressed the population with Lutheran ideas, which also included criticism of the clergy and the system of rule. The religious crisis thus led to problems in the secular sphere beyond the walls of the churches as well. Faith and worldly matters were not separate domains. If miners were dissatisfied with pastoral care, they went on strike. Public order was endangered—not only because miners were permitted to carry weapons, but also because they were well connected among themselves. A general strike could trigger an economic crisis. Fugger capital and Habsburg political power were eager to prevent this and therefore granted the miners special rights. Not only miners, but also progressive segments of the bourgeoisie and the nobility took an interest in the new ways of living one’s faith, which was an important part of lifestyle. The new doctrines became a symbol of a new sense of self and of the social significance that craftsmen, skilled workers, and entrepreneurs in this emerging industry claimed in opposition to the old feudal system.
Ferdinand I and his successors were able to successfully push back the Reformation in Tyrol. Although the religious mandates with their numerous prohibitions were one of the reasons for the peasant wars, in the long term and with many coercive measures, the princely strategy bore fruit. Power politics may have been one reason, but in fact the ruling Habsburgs were pious people who, at least to a large extent, favoured Catholicism out of conviction. Ferdinand II described his motives with the words:
“…through the inspiration of God and the prompting of His Holy Spirit. All [done] to the glory of the Most High, out of a true and fervent zeal devoted to the holy, Catholic, and alone salvific religion.”
It was primarily priests of the Jesuit order who were to bring apostate parishes and citizens back into the fold of the Catholic Church. They began with reform measures such as better training for the clergy. Concubinage and post haggling were to be abolished. Priests and bishops were to concern themselves less with worldly matters and more with the salvation of their flocks. However, as this measure could not be implemented overnight - capable priests first had to be found and educated - coercive measures were introduced. The possession of Protestant books and pamphlets was punishable by law. The lower the status of the citizen, the more severe the punishment. Nobles, counsellors and key workers were often able to practise their Protestant faith discreetly. Under Ferdinand II, underlings had to confess at Easter. The priest drew up a list with the names of those who fulfilled their duty. Anyone who did not appear in the confessional despite repeated reminders could be expelled from the country.
In the seventeenth century, so-called religious reform commissions were established in Austria. If these “missionaries” discovered Protestant-leaning priests or subjects in possession of forbidden literature, they were arrested and expelled from the country, and not infrequently their houses and all possessions were set ablaze. Protestant officials were barred from practicing their professions and were forced either to convert or to emigrate. Particularly obstinate subjects were publicly chained. Maximilian III instituted a special religious surveillance agency that primarily monitored craftsmen and merchants. To prove their Catholic loyalty, they were required to regularly submit proof of confession. Under Maria Theresa in the eighteenth century, Tyrolean Protestants were forcibly resettled to distant parts of the Habsburg Empire. These relocations posed problems not only for the affected individuals. Labor and population numbers were key indicators of development in modern states, leading to what we would today call a brain drain: competencies and military strength were lost in the name of the Lord. In 1781, Enlightenment-minded Emperor Joseph II issued the Edict of Tolerance, partly for this reason, permitting the construction of Protestant churches—albeit under strict conditions. These prayer houses were not allowed to have towers or other architectural features; even windows facing the street were prohibited. In Tyrol, resistance arose against the Edict of Tolerance, as people feared for moral order and sought to avoid foreign religions, discord, and unrest of any kind. Converts were denied marriage and burial in Catholic cemeteries.
To this day, Tyrol regards itself as the self-proclaimed “Holy Land,” with “holy” referring explicitly to the Catholic faith. In 1837, Protestants were expelled from the Zillertal. The descendants of the so-called Zillertal “Inklinanten,” who emigrated under official pressure, still live in Germany today. Although tolerance gradually gained a foothold in the empire and its lands, the close bond between authority and the Catholic Church persisted well into the twentieth century in many areas of life, such as education. When it became known during the constitutional debates of 1848 that free exercise of religion was planned for the entire monarchy, public outrage in Tyrol was enormous. After media campaigns opposing this liberalization of faith, more than 120,000 signatures were collected. In 1861, Emperor Franz Joseph issued the Protestant Patent, which granted the Evangelical Church rights largely equivalent to those of the Catholic Church. The Tyroleans, however, remained steadfast. With the exception of two liberals, all members of the regional parliament voted to maintain confessional unity. The argument stated that there were no adherents of other faiths in Tyrol anyway, and therefore no tolerance toward non-Catholics was necessary. It was not until 1876 that an official Protestant parish was established in Innsbruck.
The year 1848 and its consequences
The year 1848 occupies a mythical place in European history. Although the hotspots were not to be found in secluded Tyrol, but in the major metropolises such as Paris, Vienna, Budapest, Milan and Berlin, even in the Holy Land however, the revolutionary year left its mark. In contrast to the rural surroundings, an enlightened educated middle class had developed in Innsbruck. Enlightened people no longer wanted to be subjects of a monarch or sovereign, but citizens with rights and duties towards the state. Students and freelancers demanded political participation, freedom of the press and civil rights. Workers demanded better wages and working conditions. Radical liberals and nationalists in particular even questioned the omnipotence of the church.
In March 1848, this socially and politically highly explosive mixture erupted in riots in many European cities. In Innsbruck, students and professors celebrated the newly enacted freedom of the press with a torchlight procession. On the whole, however, the revolution proceeded calmly in the leisurely Tyrol. It would be foolhardy to speak of a spontaneous outburst of emotion; the date of the procession was postponed from 20 to 21 March due to bad weather. There were hardly any anti-Habsburg riots or attacks; a stray stone thrown into a Jesuit window was one of the highlights of the Alpine version of the 1848 revolution. The students even helped the city magistrate to monitor public order in order to show their gratitude to the monarch for the newly granted freedoms and their loyalty.
The initial enthusiasm for bourgeois revolution was quickly replaced by German nationalist, patriotic fervour in Innsbruck. On 6 April 1848, the German flag was waved by the governor of Tyrol during a ceremonial procession. A German flag was also raised on the city tower. Tricolour was hoisted. While students, workers, liberal-nationalist-minded citizens, republicans, supporters of a constitutional monarchy and Catholic conservatives disagreed on social issues such as freedom of the press, they shared a dislike of the Italian independence movement that had spread from Piedmont and Milan to northern Italy. Innsbruck students and marksmen marched to Trentino with the support of the k.k. The Innsbruck students and riflemen moved into Trentino to nip the unrest and uprisings in the bud. Well-known members of this corps were Father Haspinger, who had already fought with Andreas Hofer in 1809, and Adolf Pichler. Johann Nepomuk Mahl-Schedl, wealthy owner of Büchsenhausen Castle, even equipped his own company with which he marched across the Brenner Pass to secure the border.
The city of Innsbruck, as the political and economic centre of the multinational crown land of Tyrol and home to many Italian speakers, also became the arena of this nationality conflict. Combined with copious amounts of alcohol, anti-Italian sentiment in Innsbruck posed more of a threat to public order than civil liberties. A quarrel between a German-speaking craftsman and an Italian-speaking Ladin got so heated that it almost led to a pogrom against the numerous businesses and restaurants owned by Italian-speaking Tyroleans.
The relative tranquillity of Innsbruck suited the imperial house, which was under pressure. When things did not stop boiling in Vienna even after March, Emperor Ferdinand fled to Tyrol in May. According to press reports from this time, he was received enthusiastically by the population.
"Wie heißt das Land, dem solche Ehre zu Theil wird, wer ist das Volk, das ein solches Vertrauen genießt in dieser verhängnißvollen Zeit? Stützt sich die Ruhe und Sicherheit hier bloß auf die Sage aus alter Zeit, oder liegt auch in der Gegenwart ein Grund, auf dem man bauen kann, den der Wind nicht weg bläst, und der Sturm nicht erschüttert? Dieses Alipenland heißt Tirol, gefällts dir wohl? Ja, das tirolische Volk allein bewährt in der Mitte des aufgewühlten Europa die Ehrfurcht und Treue, den Muth und die Kraft für sein angestammtes Regentenhaus, während ringsum Auflehnung, Widerspruch. Trotz und Forderung, häufig sogar Aufruhr und Umsturz toben; Tirol allein hält fest ohne Wanken an Sitte und Gehorsam, auf Religion, Wahrheit und Recht, während anderwärts die Frechheit und Lüge, der Wahnsinn und die Leidenschaften herrschen anstatt folgen wollen. Und während im großen Kaiserreiche sich die Bande überall lockern, oder gar zu lösen drohen; wo die Willkühr, von den Begierden getrieben, Gesetze umstürzt, offenen Aufruhr predigt, täglich mit neuen Forderungen losgeht; eigenmächtig ephemere- wie das Wetter wechselnde Einrichtungen schafft; während Wien, die alte sonst so friedliche Kaiserstadt, sich von der erhitzten Phantasie der Jugend lenken und gängeln läßt, und die Räthe des Reichs auf eine schmähliche Weise behandelt, nach Laune beliebig, und mit jakobinischer Anmaßung, über alle Provinzen verfügend, absetzt und anstellt, ja sogar ohne Ehrfurcht, den Kaiaer mit Sturm-Petitionen verfolgt; während jetzt von allen Seiten her Deputationen mit Ergebenheits-Addressen mit Bittgesuchen und Loyalitätsversicherungen dem Kaiser nach Innsbruck folgen, steht Tirol ganz ruhig, gleich einer stillen Insel, mitten im brausenden Meeressturme, und des kleinen Völkchens treue Brust bildet, wie seine Berge und Felsen, eine feste Mauer in Gesetz und Ordnung, für den Kaiser und das Vaterland."
In June, a young Franz Josef, not yet emperor at the time, also stayed at the Hofburg on his way back from the battlefields of northern Italy instead of travelling directly to Vienna. Innsbruck was once again the royal seat, if only for one summer. While blood was flowing in Vienna, Milan and Budapest, the imperial family enjoyed life in the Tyrolean countryside. Ferdinand, Franz Karl, his wife Sophie and Franz Josef received guests from foreign royal courts and were chauffeured in four-in-hand carriages to the region's excursion destinations such as Weiherburg Castle, Stefansbrücke Bridge, Kranebitten and high up to Heiligwasser. A little later, however, the cosy atmosphere came to an end. Under gentle pressure, Ferdinand, who was no longer considered fit for office, passed the torch of regency to Franz Josef I. In July 1848, the first parliamentary session was held in the Court Riding School in Vienna. The first constitution was enacted. However, the monarchy's desire for reform quickly waned. The new parliament was an imperial council, it could not pass any binding laws, the emperor never attended it during his lifetime and did not understand why the Danube Monarchy, as a divinely appointed monarchy, needed this council.
Nevertheless, the liberalisation that had been gently set in motion took its course in the cities. Innsbruck was given the status of a town with its own statute. Innsbruck's municipal law provided for a right of citizenship that was linked to ownership or the payment of taxes, but legally guaranteed certain rights to members of the community. Birthright citizenship could be acquired by birth, marriage or extraordinary conferment and at least gave male adults the right to vote at municipal level. If you got into financial difficulties, you had the right to basic support from the town.
Thanks to the census-based majority voting system, the Greater German liberal faction prevailed within the city government, in which merchants, tradesmen, industrialists and innkeepers set the tone. On 2 June 1848, the first edition of the liberal and Greater German-minded Innsbrucker Zeitungfrom which the above article on the emperor's arrival in Innsbruck is taken. Conservatives, on the other hand, read the Volksblatt for Tyrol and Vorarlberg. Moderate readers who favoured a constitutional monarchy preferred to consume the Bothen for Tyrol and Vorarlberg. However, the freedom of the press soon came to an end. The previously abolished censorship was reintroduced in parts. Newspaper publishers had to undergo some harassment by the authorities. Newspapers were not allowed to write against the state government, monarchy or church.
"Anyone who, by means of printed matter, incites, instigates or attempts to incite others to take action which would bring about the violent separation of a part from the unified state... of the Austrian Empire... or the general Austrian Imperial Diet or the provincial assemblies of the individual crown lands.... Imperial Diet or the Diet of the individual Crown Lands... violently disrupts... shall be punished with severe imprisonment of two to ten years."
After Innsbruck officially replaced Meran as the provincial capital in 1849 and thus finally became the political centre of Tyrol, political parties were formed. From 1868, the liberal and Greater German orientated party provided the mayor of the city of Innsbruck. The influence of the church declined in Innsbruck in contrast to the surrounding communities. Individualism, capitalism, nationalism and consumerism stepped into the breach. New worlds of work, department stores, theatres, cafés and dance halls did not supplant religion in the city either, but the emphasis changed as a result of the civil liberties won in 1848.
Perhaps the most important change to the law was the Basic relief patent. In Innsbruck, the clergy, above all Wilten Abbey, held a large proportion of the peasant land. The church and nobility were not subject to taxation. In 1848/49, manorial rule and servitude were abolished in Austria. Land rents, tithes and roboters were thus abolished. The landlords received one third of the value of their land from the state as part of the land relief, one third was regarded as tax relief and the farmers had to pay one third of the relief themselves. They could pay off this amount in instalments over a period of twenty years.
The after-effects can still be felt today. The descendants of the then successful farmers enjoy the fruits of prosperity through inherited land ownership, which can be traced back to the land relief of 1848, as well as political influence through land sales for housing construction, leases and public sector redemptions for infrastructure projects. The land-owning nobles of the past had to resign themselves to the ignominy of pursuing middle-class labour. The transition from birthright to privileged status within society was often successful thanks to financial means, networks and education. Many of Innsbruck's academic dynasties began in the decades after 1848.
Das bis dato unbekannte Phänomen der Freizeit kam, wenn auch für den größten Teil nur spärlich, auf und begünstigte gemeinsam mit frei verfügbarem Einkommen einer größeren Anzahl an Menschen Hobbies. Zivile Organisationen und Vereine, vom Lesezirkel über Sängerbünde, Feuerwehren und Sportvereine, gründeten sich. Auch im Stadtbild manifestierte sich das Revolutionsjahr. Parks wie der Englische Garten beim Schloss Ambras oder der Hofgarten waren nicht mehr exklusiv der Aristokratie vorbehalten, sondern dienten den Bürgern als Naherholungsgebiete vom beengten Dasein. In St. Nikolaus entstand der Waltherpark als kleine Ruheoase. Einen Stock höher eröffnete im Schloss Büchsenhausen Tirols erste Schwimm- und Badeanstalt, wenig später folgte ein weiteres Bad in Dreiheiligen. Ausflugsgasthöfe rund um Innsbruck florierten. Neben den gehobenen Restaurants und Hotels entstand eine Szene aus Gastwirtschaften, in denen sich auch Arbeiter und Angestellte gemütliche Abende bei Theater, Musik und Tanz leisten konnten.
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.
The success story of the Innsbruck glass painters
In the pre-war period, the United States of America was regarded as the Land of unlimited possibilitieswhere dishwashers became millionaires. However, these success stories are not an exclusive phenomenon of the New World. Even in the society of the Danube Monarchy, which was not yet regulated down to the last detail, hard-working and capable people from the farming classes, the working classes or craftsmen were able to achieve astonishing success without formal training, qualification examinations or state authorisation. The three founders of the Tyrolean Glass Painting and Mosaic Institute, Josef von Stadl, Georg Mader and Albert Neuhauser, are examples of such a success story from Innsbruck's city history. While most of Innsbruck's industrial and craft businesses focussed on supplying the local market with tried and tested, solid products and consumer goods, the glass painting business was one of the few innovative and export-oriented companies of its time.
Josef von Stadl (1828 - 1893) grew up on his parents' farm and inn in Steinach am Brenner. Even as a child, he had to help out on the farm. The hard labour gave him periostitis in his arm at the age of nine. This made heavy physical labour impossible for him. Instead, the boy with a talent for drawing attended the model secondary school in Innsbruck, now the BORG. In 1848, he joined the Tyrolean snipers in his home town, but was not called up to fight on the country's borders. He then gained experience as a locksmith and turner. The talented young man worked on the reconstruction of the church in Steinach in 1853 after a village band. His skills were soon recognised and he gradually rose from labourer to master builder.
Georg Mader (1824 - 1881) also came from Steinach. He too had to work as a farm labourer at a young age. On the patronage of his brother, a clergyman, the pious youth was able to complete an apprenticeship with a painter, but had to give up his passion to work in the local mill. After his journeyman's journey, he decided to concentrate on painting. In Munich, he deepened his knowledge under Kaulbach and Schraudolph. After working on the cathedral in Speyer, he returned to Tyrol. As a history painter, he kept his head above water with commissions from the church.
Albert Neuhauser (1832 - 1901) learnt his trade in his father's glazier's and tinsmith's shop. He also had to give up his intended career path at an early age. He developed lung problems at the age of ten. Instead of working in his father's successful business, he travelled to Venice. For centuries, Murano had been home to the best glassworks for artistic glass production. Fascinated by this trade, he attended the stained glass school in Munich against his father's wishes. The products of the recently founded Bavarian factory did not meet his quality expectations. In his father's flat in Herzog-Friedrich-Straße, he undertook his first experiments with glass, similar to the nerds who would lay the foundations for the personal computer in their own garage a hundred years later.
Neuhauser's tinkering and experiments aroused the curiosity of his friend von Stadl. He made contact with the art-loving Mader. In 1861, the three decided to pool their expertise in an official company. Today, the founding of the company would probably be referred to as a start-up. Neuhauser took on the technical and commercial side as well as product development, Von Stadl took care of the decorative aspects and liaised with master builders and Mader took on the figurative design of the works, most of which were created for churches. The first branch, consisting of two painters and a burner, was set up on the third floor of the Gasthof zur Rose in the historic city centre. The raw material came from England, as the local glass did not meet Neuhauser's high quality standards. However, 25% duty was added to the import. Together with a chemistry teacher, Neuhauser managed to achieve the desired requirements himself after a trip to Birmingham and a lot of tinkering.
Josef von Stadl married the painter and doctor's daughter Maria Pfefferer in 1867. The farmer's boy from the Wipptal valley with the broken arm had not only become a member of the upper middle class, his wife's dowry also allowed him to live independently financially. In 1869, the three partners decided to expand the successful glass painting business with the financial support of Neuhauser's father. How dynamic and unregulated it was as a Wilhelminian style The example of the glassworks on the Wiltener Felder, which was opened in 1872 as an additional part of the Tyrolean Stained glass went into operation. Only 110 days after the start of construction, which was never officially authorised by the Wilten municipal administration, production began.
Starting with Neuhauser, who had to leave the company in 1874 due to health problems, the three company founders soon left their start-up to others, but remained partners in the Tyrolean stained glass company. In addition to their activities for the joint company, each of the three partners worked successfully on their own projects in their respective fields of activity.
Von Stadl had a lasting impact on Innsbruck. In its heyday, the number of employees at the stained glass factory had risen to over 70. In 1878, residential buildings for the company's employees, workers, artists and craftsmen were built according to von Stadl's plans. The Stained glass settlement comprised the houses at Müllerstrasse 39 - 57, Schöpfstrasse 18 - 24 and Speckbacherstrasse 14 - 16, which still exist today and differ markedly in their architecture from the neighbouring houses of the late Gründerzeit. Von Stadl was more sparing with the decoration of the houses, but was careful to include a small front garden. Workers and employees who lived in these houses were not supposed to feel inferior in any way to the residents of the cottage-style villas in Saggen. It was not unusual for large companies of the time to plan their own housing estates - think of Siemensstadt in Berlin - but it shows a company's self-image and vision for the future when a company like the Glasmalerei sees itself not only as a provider of labour and wages, but also as a provider of accommodation for its employees. The state maternity hospital in Wilten was another major project in Innsbruck that was realised under von Stadl's pen. After the construction of the Vinzentinum in 1878, he was made an honorary citizen and diocesan architect of Brixen. Pope Leo XIII awarded him the Order of St Gregory for his services. St Nicholas' Church, for which the Tyrolean stained glass company had produced the windows, became his final resting place.
Georg Mader continued to work as a painter on sacred buildings. He became a member of the Vienna Academy of Art as early as 1868. When he suffered a stroke in 1881, he was taken to Badgastein for rehabilitation. The spa town in Salzburg was a meeting place for the European aristocracy and upper middle classes at the time. In the midst of high society, the former journeyman miller died a wealthy man.
The restless and creative Neuhauser travelled to Venice again after resigning from his post as director of the Tyrolean stained glass workshop in order to found Austria's first mosaic studio with new inspiration. The merger of the two companies in 1900 opened up a wider range of opportunities. He was awarded the Order of Franz Joseph for his artistic merits. Neuhauserstraße in Wilten was named after him.