In June 1896, the “International Exhibition for Physical Education, Health Care, and Sport” took place. Exhibitions and fairs such as world expositions may seem rather dull today, but at the time they were spectacular curiosities. No one in Innsbruck knew then how closely this event aligned with global developments. At nearly the same time, far away in Athens, another exhibition with a sporting focus was being held. The Olympic Games would, in the decades to come, evolve into the largest sporting event in the world—and nearly 70 years later would bring Innsbruck itself back onto the world stage. Unlike the Olympic Games in Athens, the Tyrolean exhibition did not take antiquity as its primary model. Instead, it sought to highlight the “various relationships between the educational system, sport, and health care on the one hand, and trade and industry on the other.” It was believed that “every nation, every state… has its own particular characteristics in regard to school institutions, principles of health care, and the practice of sport.” Where a similar exhibition three years earlier had used the Leopold Fountain as a symbol connecting the House of Habsburg with the Land of Tyrol, this time the organizers chose a non-Habsburg figure. Who better to represent Tyrol as a nation than the heroic Andreas Hofer, who had sacrificed his life for God, Emperor, and Fatherland? As part of the exhibition, the panorama building was erected as a wooden structure near today’s trade fair grounds, designed to present to visitors from near and far the heroic struggle of the Tyroleans against the overwhelming forces of the French and Bavarians in 1809. Visitors could admire the monumental panoramic painting by the Munich artist Michael Zeno Diemer (1867–1939), which depicted, across 1000 square meters, his vision of the third battle at Bergisel on August 13, 1809. Film and moving images were still in their infancy. Panoramas were the most exciting medium of the late 19th century, offering audiences a vivid, almost 3D experience of historical and contemporary events. In all major European cities, it had become fashionable to present patriotic historical moments as panoramic installations. The Innsbrucker Nachrichten described the impressive object on the exhibition grounds with great enthusiasm on opening day:

“It is a panoramic picture such as can scarcely be found more magnificent or splendid anywhere. The visitor is simply astonished, enchanted, upon entering the panorama. The illusion is so perfect that one forgets one is standing inside a closed space. If ever there was a moment to declare that an artist has surpassed himself, it is here.”

The wooden structure, however, did not last long. By fortunate coincidence, the painting was traveling in London for the Imperial Austrian Exhibition when the building burned down ten years later. The Innsbrucker Nachrichten noted on February 6, 1906:

“Tonight at a quarter past 2, a fire broke out in the recently unoccupied building of the Panorama of the 1809 Battle of Bergisel, in a manner still unknown. Due to the light construction of the building, the flames spread quickly, and by 3 o’clock it had collapsed entirely. Only the skeletal remains of the side walls testify to where the once much‑visited Tyrolean painting by Diemer, Egger, and Burger exerted its attraction.”

Just one year later, the building that still exists today was opened. The octagonal structure designed by Anton Fritz, located next to the valley station of the old Hungerburg railway, is one of the buildings that symbolically represent the development of modern Innsbruck in the Saggen district around the turn of the century. In addition to the monumental painting, the Saggen also housed two other modern structures: the old chain bridge built in 1837 and the valley station of the Hungerburg railway. A tourism advertisement praised the patriotic artwork:

“... the monumental panoramic painting by the academic painter Michael Zeno Diemer at the station of the Hungerburg railway; 96 meters wide and 12.5 meters high. One of the most significant sights of Innsbruck.”

In 1917, the giant panorama went on tour again, this time to Vienna. The Tyrolean struggle against the superior French forces had by then become a national symbol and was intended to support wartime propaganda. While industrialized mass death unfolded across European battlefields, Diemer’s painting presented an idyllic version of patriotic warfare. The writer Alfred Polgar noted:

“There it is quiet and cool. The rifles and cannons fire, but they do not crack. Those who are hit clutch their hearts, but — this comforting knowledge we possess — it does not hurt them. Enemy soldiers storm wildly up the mountain, but they do not move an inch.”

After the war, the panorama building was used as a garage and cattle stall. The massive painting was stored in the Hofburg. People had had enough of war for the time being. It was not until 1924 that the rotunda was reopened to the public. Josef Hackl, the energetic innkeeper of the Gasthof Goldener Adler, purchased the panorama and displayed it again. In 1974, the building was placed under historic preservation. This would prove both a blessing and a curse. Since the opening of the Bergisel Museum and the relocation of the panorama there in 2011, the rotunda has stood empty. Thanks to its protected status, it cannot be demolished; however, repurposing it is difficult and costly. What will ultimately become of the aging yet historically significant building remains undecided as of 2026 — and will likely occupy city politics for some time to come.

Innsbruck calls itself the capital of the Alps. The highest point within the city limits is the peak of the Praxmarerkarspitze at 2,642 meters above sea level. One may debate the title of “capital”—Grenoble, Turin, Trento, Bern and many other cities could certainly claim it for themselves. But Innsbruck holds a special place in this ranking thanks to its enclosed position between the surrounding mountains and the direct connection between the city and its alpine environment. As early as around 1900, efforts began to develop the Nordkette with technical means. The first funicular railways in Europe began operating around 1880. With some delay, Innsbruck was also to receive its own example. It was Josef Riehl, tourism and transport pioneer, who recognized the potential of linking the city with the mountains. Along with the Panorama Building and the old chain bridge, the railway to Hungerburg formed the modern center of Innsbruck at the beginning of the 20th century. The three attractions were united not only by their legendary locations but also by their premature endings. The old, majestic chain bridge was replaced by a more modern reinforced concrete bridge in 1939, and the Panorama Building has stood empty since 2011. Finally, in 2005, the Hungerburgbahn also met its end. Despite several appeals from the public, operations were shut down. Only the steel truss bridge over the Inn and the rammed concrete viaduct in the upper section of the line were preserved. 101 years earlier, the new transport link—planned as a connection between Innsbruck and the newly developing district—had been the number one topic in the Innsbrucker Nachrichten:

„The Hungerburgbahn opened this morning at 7 a.m. - not exactly favoured by the best weather. Trains run every quarter of an hour until 10 o'clock in the evening. It seems that the local population is particularly interested in the new railway, which is the first cable car in North Tyrol. Yesterday, an internal evening at the Hotel Mariabrunn brought together representatives of the company, the construction management, the "Union", the municipal power station and the press for a cheerful get-together. Engineer Innerebner commemorated the creator of the railway, Mr Riehl, who is currently taking a cure in Karlovy Vary ... Works inspector Twerdy has taken over the management of the plant. Six and a half years ago, he only took over the local railway Innsbruck - Hall; since then, he has taken over four railways of all systems: the low mountain railway, the Stubai valley railway, the electric tramway and now the cable railway to the Hungerburg.“

The aerial cableway to the Nordkette, starting from the Hungerburg, opened in 1928—the same year as the mountain railway on the southern side of the Inn Valley, the Patscherkofelbahn. Innsbruck was not avant-garde in this respect; the world’s first cable car had begun operating only 20 years earlier in Grindelwald, Switzerland. But Innsbruck was certainly keeping up with the times. The breathtaking project in the Tyrolean capital included the valley station on the Hungerburg, the mid-station on the Seegrube, and the top station at the Hafelekar in the high-alpine region. Much of the construction work on these high-alpine projects was still carried out by porters who hauled materials up the mountain. Only for particularly exposed areas were aircraft used. Despite this, construction took just over a year. The marvel was designed by the previously unknown Franz Baumann, who won a design competition with his bold concept. He rejected the prevailing styles of the 19th century—classicist, traditional, and historicist trends. The buildings should blend into the landscape and become part of it rather than disturb it. Baumann managed to harmoniously connect the functional station buildings with machine rooms and entry/exit zones with the gastronomic areas. The mid-station on the Seegrube housed a restaurant and hotel. He placed great emphasis on the terrace, which offers a breathtaking view of the surrounding mountains. Particularly spectacular is the top station at the Hafelekar, perched like an eagle’s nest against the rocks and shaped as a quarter circle, housing a guesthouse. Baumann designed both the buildings and the interior. Traditional alpine hospitality with tiled stoves met modern furnishings such as the now-famous Baumann chair. He even designed his own typeface to ensure a cohesive overall impression. Clemens Holzmeister, the internationally best-known architect of Tyrolean Modernism, declared himself a fan of the Nordkette cableway in a 1929 specialist article:

"The railway starts at the so-called Hungerburg plateau (300 metres above Innsbruck). The station is characterised by its simple integration into the forest area and a particularly remarkable staircase. The intermediate station at Seegrube (1905 metres above sea level) lacks the unity of the layout ... due to subsequent extensions, but appears splendidly positioned in front of the rocky cirque of the Seegrube peaks. The final station (2,256 metres above sea level) is the most successful in its integration into the wild Zipfelschrofen. Everything has been taken into consideration and the naturalness has a liberating effect."

Since 1979, the Innsbruck Public Transport Company (IVB) has operated the mountain railway. During renovations in 2007, both the interiors and exteriors of the mid- and top stations were preserved as much as possible. Today, one can board the Nordkettenbahn directly at the Congress Center in the heart of the city and reach the Hafelekar at 2,256 meters in just a short time. The stations of the new line at the Löwenhaus, the Alpine Zoo, and the Hungerburg were designed by star architect Zaha Hadid in a breathtaking futuristic style.

But the Nordkette is more than an adventure park for locals and tourists. In the 1930s, scientific history was made there. In 1931, Victor Franz Hess established a laboratory in a former construction barrack at the Hafelekar at 2,300 meters to study cosmic radiation. For this work, he received the Nobel Prize in Physics in 1936. Less scientific, but of great educational value, the mountains continue to enter children’s rooms to this day. On the western side of the Nordkette (from the city, on the left), a distinctive rocky peak rises. With some imagination, the formation resembles a woman on a horse. This figure is the inspiration for the most famous legend of the Innsbruck area, which entered the Grimm Brothers’ catalog of tales in the 19th century. It tells the story of the stingy, hard-hearted, and greedy giant queen Frau Hitt. While playing, her son fell into a bog with his expensive clothes and returned home covered in filth. Frau Hitt ordered a servant to bathe the boy in milk and clean him with white bread. Later, the queen encountered a beggar who pleaded for bread. Instead of alms, Frau Hitt handed her a stone. When she refused charity, an earthquake destroyed her palace, a landslide buried her lands, and Frau Hitt was turned into the stone pillar that still towers visibly above the city today. Innsbruck children have grown up with this legend—its moral warning against arrogance and wastefulness—for generations.

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.

Der kolossale Bau des jesuitischen Studentenheimes samt Kapelle nimmt im Villenviertel Saggen einen würdigen Platz ein. Wer von der Villa Blanka etwas oberhalb Innsbrucks auf den Saggen schaut, sieht zuerst das Canisianum ähnlich einem Palast mit seinen mehr als 20 Fensterachsen in der Breite den ganzen Straßenzug dominieren. Der Eingang mit dem ionischen Säulenportikus und dem darüber aufragenden Turm mit Laterne bildet eine schöne Einheit. Das Mosaik auf der Fassade, das den Heiligen Petrus Canisius bei der Unterrichtung des Volkes zeigt, wurde von der Tyrolean Glass Painting and Mosaic Institute gestaltet. Das Collegium Canisianum ist neben der Jesuitenkirche mit der theologischen Fakultät das zweite bis heute bestehende und im Stadtbild gut sichtbare Bauwerk, das den jesuitischen Einfluss auf die Bildungslandschaft Innsbrucks bezeugt. Überraschend dabei ist die Entstehungsgeschichte des Canisianums, würde man doch ein derart pompöses Gebäude eines Ordens nicht in die letzten Jahre der Monarchie datieren. Seine Anfänge nahm die Institution mit der Ansiedlung der Jesuiten in Innsbruck. 1587 wurde das Nikolai House in der heutigen Universitätsstraße als Konvikt für mittellose Schüler der Lateinschule eröffnet. Die Schüler wurden auf Kosten des erzherzoglichen Hofes oder wohlhabender Bürger unterhalten. Als Gegenleistung hatten die Schüler Rosenkränze und Litaneien für das Seelenheil des edlen Mäzens zu beten. Nach der Gründung der Universität Innsbruck 1669 diente es als Konvikt für Studenten der theologischen Fakultät. Unter dem aufgeklärten Kaiser Josef II., der den Jesuiten nicht wohl gesonnen war, verlor der Orden seinen Auftrag als Patron des Bildungswesens, erst unter Franz Josef I. kehrten die Jesuiten wieder zurück zu ihrem angestammten Status zurück. Schon bald wurde das Nikolai House in der heutigen Sillgasse zu klein für den großen Andrang an Studenten. Im allgemeinen Baurausch der Vorkriegszeit wurde mit dem Bau des neuen Konvikts im Saggen begonnen, auch wenn die liberalen Kreise der Stadt alles andere als begeistert von einem weiteren kirchlichen Bau im Stadtbild war. Wie schon beim Monastery of Perpetual Adoration setzte sich der Klerus durch. 1911 öffnete das Collegium Canisianum seine Pforten für 276 Seminaristen aus der ganzen Welt. Ein Mitglied der Habsburger war bei der Eröffnung nicht anwesend, in den Innsbrucker Nachrichten konnte man am 28. Oktober aber den „kaiserlichen Dank“ zum Projekt lesen:

“The imperial-royal governor for Tyrol and Vorarlberg has, by supreme order, conveyed the highest thanks to those involved for the expressions of loyalty telegraphed on the occasion of the consecration of the newly built house Collegium Canisianum, the theological seminary in Innsbruck.”

Like many other church institutions, the Canisianum and the Faculty of Theology were forced to close under the Nazi regime’s persecution following the Anschluss of Austria in 1938. The Jesuits went into exile in Sion, Switzerland, but returned again after the war in 1945. The chapel in the basement was redesigned in the 1970s in the contemporary modern, very austere style of the time. Similar to the parish church in Höttinger Au, also dedicated to Peter Canisius, this devotional space was intended to reflect a reorientation of the clergy. Since 2013, the Canisianum has served as a student residence.

Hardly any resident of Innsbruck can claim never to have dreamed of living in one of the beautiful villas in Saggen. Between Kaiserjägerstraße, Siebererstraße and Claudiastraße stand some of the most beautiful houses in the city. Innsbruck’s upmarket district developed towards the end of the nineteenth century as a kind of ghetto for the upper middle class. Looking at a historical map from 1880, one can see that the area between the monumental chain bridge in the north and the monastery barracks by the Hofgarten was almost undeveloped. The city map of 1910 already shows more or less the same building pattern that still exists today. In less than thirty years, a new district had sprung up on greenfield land. The first villa was built at Bienerstraße 1 and still radiates the splendour and charm of a property in the style of Victorian England today. One by one, the neighbouring houses sprang up like mushrooms. The main axis of the new settlement was Falkstraße. Like in a Roman planned city, this avenue was intended, in the style of a cardo maximus, to connect the settlement from the chain bridge in the north to the monastery barracks by the Hofgarten. The villas were built entirely in the style of the respective period by the usual suspects of Innsbruck’s architectural scene. The city’s master builders let off steam on the open meadow. Tyrolean Heimatstil, Classicism, cottage houses and Art Nouveau line up in a wild stylistic mix. After a little more than ten years of intensive construction, the area had been developed as far as Claudiaplatz. The residents were drawn from Innsbruck’s patriciate. With a few exceptions such as the business academy, which had already been built before 1886, the railway administration building, the orphanage planned by Johann Sieberer, also before 1886, and the Protestant Christ Church after the turn of the century, there was hardly any infrastructure in the new district. Wealthy tradespeople, merchants, entrepreneurs, university professors and professionals remained in their refuges, among themselves and undisturbed by annoying disruptions from shops, factories, churchgoers or inns, unbothered by city life. In 1898, under Mayor Greil, the municipal council put a stop to this activity in the grid square affectionately dubbed “Stadtsaggen” by the press. East of Claudiastraße only residential buildings with at least two storeys were permitted. The era of constructing villas in generous cottage style came to an end due to the combination of lack of space and a growing population. Anyone who wanted to realise the dream of a bourgeois residence away from the hustle and bustle of the city after 1900 had to move up to the Hungerburg, the new and even more exclusive district.

One of the most striking buildings is Villa Exl at Falkstraße 19. In 1896, Innsbruck municipal councillor and property investor Karl Wildling had the house built as Villa Alpenheim by the firm Josef Mayr & Söhne in the Tyrolean Heimatstil. Mayr was involved in the planning of several houses in this style, for example Villa Fiegl at Elisabethstraße 3 with the gracious Madonna of Mariahilf as façade decoration. The façade patriotically features Saint George, the patron saint of Tyrol, and Saint Christopher. After several changes of ownership, the house passed into the possession of the well-known Exl theatre family in 1918. With a modesty similar to that afforded today to pop and film stars, they renamed their property Villa Exl and had the name placed beneath Saint Christopher. When the last heiress of this dynasty died in 2009, she bequeathed the villa to her foundation. As part of a refurbishment, a discreet wooden building was tastefully added next to the house in Tyrolean Heimatstil.

The corner of Bienerstraße and Claudiastraße at the other end of the district is home to two noteworthy villas in the Neo-Renaissance style. The smaller building is the Fischer Villa, which was built in 1896 for the Innsbruck pharmacist Carl Fischer. The orange Villa St. Georg is located on the outer edge of the Villensaggen on Claudiastraße. With its unusually great height for the Villensaggen and its massive, cubic shape, it formed an almost naturally organic boundary to the Blocksaggen, like a particularly striking outpost. The three-storey residential building was commissioned by a master butcher from the building contractors Gogl & Hupfauf. The first owner and operator of the Claudia restaurant in the annex was the tourism entrepreneur Sebastian Kandler. He too sold the building after a short time in order to devote himself to the development of the Hungerburg. After several changes of ownership, the restaurant had to close its doors in 1925 due to the authorities’ refusal to grant a licence to serve alcohol. Despite several extensions, this magnificent building with its remarkable garden still exudes the charm of the turn of the century.

As a total work of art, the Villensaggen survived the air raids of the Second World War in its original form in a surprisingly unscathed state. In aerial photographs, the area looks like a carefully composed cluster of small palaces. Almost all of the buildings are listed and provide the backdrop for walks back into the Belle Époque, away from the large tourist crowds.

Der kolossale Bau des jesuitischen Studentenheimes samt Kapelle nimmt im Villenviertel Saggen einen würdigen Platz ein. Wer von der Villa Blanka etwas oberhalb Innsbrucks auf den Saggen schaut, sieht zuerst das Canisianum ähnlich einem Palast mit seinen mehr als 20 Fensterachsen in der Breite den ganzen Straßenzug dominieren. Der Eingang mit dem ionischen Säulenportikus und dem darüber aufragenden Turm mit Laterne bildet eine schöne Einheit. Das Mosaik auf der Fassade, das den Heiligen Petrus Canisius bei der Unterrichtung des Volkes zeigt, wurde von der Tyrolean Glass Painting and Mosaic Institute gestaltet. Das Collegium Canisianum ist neben der Jesuitenkirche mit der theologischen Fakultät das zweite bis heute bestehende und im Stadtbild gut sichtbare Bauwerk, das den jesuitischen Einfluss auf die Bildungslandschaft Innsbrucks bezeugt. Überraschend dabei ist die Entstehungsgeschichte des Canisianums, würde man doch ein derart pompöses Gebäude eines Ordens nicht in die letzten Jahre der Monarchie datieren. Seine Anfänge nahm die Institution mit der Ansiedlung der Jesuiten in Innsbruck. 1587 wurde das Nikolai House in der heutigen Universitätsstraße als Konvikt für mittellose Schüler der Lateinschule eröffnet. Die Schüler wurden auf Kosten des erzherzoglichen Hofes oder wohlhabender Bürger unterhalten. Als Gegenleistung hatten die Schüler Rosenkränze und Litaneien für das Seelenheil des edlen Mäzens zu beten. Nach der Gründung der Universität Innsbruck 1669 diente es als Konvikt für Studenten der theologischen Fakultät. Unter dem aufgeklärten Kaiser Josef II., der den Jesuiten nicht wohl gesonnen war, verlor der Orden seinen Auftrag als Patron des Bildungswesens, erst unter Franz Josef I. kehrten die Jesuiten wieder zurück zu ihrem angestammten Status zurück. Schon bald wurde das Nikolai House in der heutigen Sillgasse zu klein für den großen Andrang an Studenten. Im allgemeinen Baurausch der Vorkriegszeit wurde mit dem Bau des neuen Konvikts im Saggen begonnen, auch wenn die liberalen Kreise der Stadt alles andere als begeistert von einem weiteren kirchlichen Bau im Stadtbild war. Wie schon beim Monastery of Perpetual Adoration setzte sich der Klerus durch. 1911 öffnete das Collegium Canisianum seine Pforten für 276 Seminaristen aus der ganzen Welt. Ein Mitglied der Habsburger war bei der Eröffnung nicht anwesend, in den Innsbrucker Nachrichten konnte man am 28. Oktober aber den „kaiserlichen Dank“ zum Projekt lesen:

“The imperial-royal governor for Tyrol and Vorarlberg has, by supreme order, conveyed the highest thanks to those involved for the expressions of loyalty telegraphed on the occasion of the consecration of the newly built house Collegium Canisianum, the theological seminary in Innsbruck.”

Like many other church institutions, the Canisianum and the Faculty of Theology were forced to close under the Nazi regime’s persecution following the Anschluss of Austria in 1938. The Jesuits went into exile in Sion, Switzerland, but returned again after the war in 1945. The chapel in the basement was redesigned in the 1970s in the contemporary modern, very austere style of the time. Similar to the parish church in Höttinger Au, also dedicated to Peter Canisius, this devotional space was intended to reflect a reorientation of the clergy. Since 2013, the Canisianum has served as a student residence.

The railway was perhaps the most important technological innovation of the 19th century. It connected Innsbruck with the rest of the vast multi‑ethnic Habsburg Empire. More than merely a means of transportation, the railway also served as an intellectual and emotional bond. It offered citizens, no matter where within the empire they found themselves, a sense of familiar recognition. Railway stations resembled one another throughout the monarchy—from Innsbruck in the far west to Lemberg in today’s Ukraine—much like airports do around the world today. Thanks to their characteristic architecture and furnishings, stations conveyed the feeling of being under the protection of the Emperor and his officials. Alongside cafés, theaters, administrative offices, and churches, they helped bring the culture of the Austro‑Hungarian monarchy into even its farthest corners. In 1898, Innsbruck received its own local administrative office. Not only was the city the capital of the Crown Land of Tyrol, but ever since the opening of the trans‑Alpine railway lines in all directions, it had become an important transport hub. The increasingly dense timetables demanded ever more staff. Because there was no available space near the train station, the Saggen district was chosen as the new location. The ÖBB administrative building reflects the significance of the railway during this era; it was no coincidence that it was constructed as a palace‑like complex in Innsbruck’s most elegant and modern neighborhood. Symmetrical forms, towers, and columns shape the building in the historicist style typical of the Belle Époque. The Hötting breccia used for the lower base—sourced from the quarry on the Hungerburg—conveys stability and security. Particularly splendid is the conference hall with its double‑headed eagle, stucco ceiling, large chandeliers, and the somewhat old‑fashioned long table that is still in use today. The building at Bienerstraße 8, also part of the ÖBB complex, served an ignominious purpose for one year: from March 1938 to May 1939, it housed the headquarters of the Gestapo before the secret police relocated to their new quarters on Herrengasse. National Socialism, however, was responsible not only for the misuse of this building—railway infrastructure suffered disproportionately under the war. The elegant stations that had emerged from the 19th century until 1914, along with the neighborhoods surrounding them, often fell victim to Allied air raids during World War II. Today, railway districts in Austria are often no longer among the most attractive parts of their cities, and many stations are modern constructions. Yet parts of Innsbruck’s historic railway world have survived: the ÖBB administrative building, sections of the old station building on Südtirolerplatz, and the small Westbahnhof in Wilten all retain the turn‑of‑the‑century aesthetics that still evoke the charm of the early railway age and the Danube Monarchy.

Around 1900, a new, globalized world emerged. Telegraphy and the telephone had enabled the rapid spread of news for 50 years, creating a sense of “simultaneity” between what happened and how it was reported in the media. Innsbruck’s first telephone device likely went into operation in 1877, and the city’s first telephone exchange followed 16 years later. Another 14 years would pass before the first long-distance call to the capital, Vienna, could be made. Entertainment, on the other hand, worked in the opposite direction. Cinema and the gramophone allowed, for the first time, a larger audience to store events and consume them “non-simultaneously.” In transportation, bicycles began to conquer streets that were increasingly illuminated even at night. Electric sewing machines and irons made housework easier for affluent ladies and their staff thanks to the expanding power grid. Zweig, Klimt, Kokoschka, Schiele, Mahler, Wagner, Schönberg, and Freud still shape a nostalgic image of Vienna and Austria abroad today. Innsbruck was not Vienna, and the Fin de Siècle was not celebrated in Tirol as it was in Paris, yet the bourgeoisie of the Alpine region was influenced by Europe. While nations drifted further apart politically, high culture and architecture in many European cities grew closer. The new bourgeois elites in Buenos Aires, Istanbul, Madrid, London, New York, and Vienna had embraced Historicism. Innsbruck was no exception. A touch of this era’s flair can still be sensed around Claudiaplatz. The central roundabout, named after Claudia de Medici, remains something like the heart of the Saggen district. It separates the “Villen­saggen” in the northwest from the “Blocksaggen,” with its apartment buildings, in the east of the district. Not only architecturally but also socially, Claudiaplatz has always formed a kind of boundary. While freelancers and white-collar workers mostly settled in the residential blocks of the Blocksaggen, the villas housed an elite of minor nobility, entrepreneurs, and wholesalers. The development of Claudiaplatz reflects the capitalization of Innsbruck’s real estate market during the late monarchy. Developers and entrepreneurs with capital were already investing their money in “concrete gold.” Claudiaplatz 1, 2, and 3 as well as Elisabethstraße 11 were financed from 1898 onwards by Reinhold Boos. Originally from the Rhineland, Boos founded a roofing company in Innsbruck before establishing a name and wealth as a real estate dealer. He had these stately residential buildings constructed with up to seven apartments for a wealthy clientele. Unlike the villas, these properties were intended as rental objects. The magnificent houses have trapezoidal floor plans and are attractively decorated with bay windows and lavish ornamentation. Even the staircases, built during the Gründerzeit, were small works of art and meant to prepare visitors for the apartments and their ambience. Five streets lead into the Claudiaplatz roundabout. To the west, Elisabethstraße leads into the villa district, while Kaiser-Franz-Josef-Straße—with its charming green median strip—is lined with larger but equally notable residential buildings. Particularly remarkable is the house at Conradstraße 6, located just a few meters from Claudiaplatz. Quarry owner Josef Leutsch had this Art Nouveau building designed by architect Josef Mayr. Opposite, Claudiastraße flows into the square, marking the beginning of the Blocksaggen. The colorful houses in this row are a popular photo motif from within the roundabout. This area attracted those who had enough money for a luxury apartment, but not enough for a villa. The social environment in this part of Innsbruck, consisting of academics and freelancers, has been preserved to some degree to this day.

"“As the mayor reported in one of the most recent municipal council meetings, Mr. von Sieberer is considering the plan to build a large, beautiful almshouse here… The building is to be erected on a currently undeveloped plot behind Claudiaplatz, next to the Southern Railway viaduct, and will consist of two separate wings—one for women and one for men. A chapel is planned to be constructed between the two wings.”."

This could be read on 1 June 1907 in the press regarding the plans to establish a modern residential facility. What may seem unremarkable today was a groundbreaking innovation in the late monarchy. In 1908, Johann von Sieberer endowed the Innsbruck Asylum for the Elderly in honor of the 60th anniversary of Emperor Franz Joseph I’s reign. On 29 August 1909, the 100th anniversary of the Bergisel battle, the building was inaugurated by Franz Joseph I himself in the presence of the Bishop of Brixen. Alongside the ÖBB administrative building and the orphanage, the asylum for the elderly is the third impressive secular building in the Saggen district. Far from being a purely functional structure, the neoclassical retirement home stands out. A bell tower marks the building’s chapel. Statues of Saints Peter and Paul as well as Christ symbolize goodwill toward all people. The magnificent façade, 86 meters in length, has been preserved to this day. It not only faintly resembles a palace—it was intentionally designed this way to provide aging individuals with an architecturally dignified environment. Not only the exterior but also the interior was state of the art. The modern kitchen was equipped to prepare meals for up to 300 people.

Die Institution Sieberers schloss eine wichtige Lücke im Sozialwesen. Eine staatlich geregelte Pensionsversicherung wie wir sie heute kennen, gab es vor der Gründung der Republik Österreich nach 1918 nicht. Ältere Menschen, die nicht mehr arbeiten konnten, wurden zu Hause von Verwandten oder Angestellten versorgt. Bei Bauern wurde dies mit dem sogenannten Ausgedinge im Rahmen der Übergabe des Hofes geregelt. Wer nicht zu einer dieser privilegierten Schichten gehörte, fiel schnell durch den Rost. Arbeiter, Handwerksgesellen, Tagelöhner, Knechte und niederes Personal mussten betteln oder waren auf die Armen- und Altenpflege von Gönnern oder der Kirche angewiesen. Seit dem 16. Jahrhundert war die Versorgung in Tirol Sache der Gemeinde, der ein Untertan angehörte. In Notzeiten waren die Gemeinden damit aber oft überfordert. Auch die Kirche konnte sich nicht dauerhaft und zuverlässig diesem Problem annehmen. Durch den durch die Industrialisierung und Urbanisierung bedingten Zuzug nach Innsbruck und dem Verkauf zweier Armenhäuser in St. Nikolaus, war die Situation in Innsbruck um 1900 besonders angespannt. Johann von Sieberer, zu dieser Zeit bereits selbst in fortgeschrittenem Alter, kam zum Entschluss, der Stadt Innsbruck mit Planung des Projekts und der Finanzierung eines großen Teils davon, bei der Errichtung eines Greisenasyls zu unterstützen. Die Stadt unter Bürgermeister Wilhelm Greil musste sich dafür verpflichten einen Baugrund, die Übernahme der Erschließung von Kanalisation und Elektrifizierung und den Kosten für Rechtliches, Architekten und der Bauleitung zu übernehmen. Das Armenamt der Stadt sollte das Altersheim betreiben. Die Betreuung wurde den Barmherzigen Schwestern vom Heiligen Vinzenz und Paul überlassen. Die Idee Sieberers war es, älteren Ehepaaren die Möglichkeit zu geben ihren Lebensabend gemeinsam zu verbringen. Die Zimmer waren für damalige Verhältnisse mit Eisenbetten, Nachtkästchen, Kleiderschrank und Spucknapf gut ausgestattet. Der schmucklose Raum sollte die Pflege der Unterkünfte und die Freihaltung von Ungeziefer und Schädlingen erleichtern. Schwer sozialisierbare Bewohner wie Alkoholkranke wurden angenommen, jedoch separat untergebracht. Das Altersheim besteht bis zum heutigen Tag, auch wenn es natürlich mehrmals modernisiert wurde. An den Erbauer erinnert der moderate Schriftzug an der Ostseite des Gebäudes "Gespendet von einem Patrioten".

If one is to believe certain particularly cautious Innsbruck residents, the gateway to hell lies somewhere between the city center, Pradl, and Saggen. Others, however, associate the Bogenmeile with some of the best memories of their youth. For decades, the nightlife district along the railway viaduct has divided opinions and continues to inspire personal anecdotes, debates, and urban legends. Since the major renovation of the 1950s, the arches have been home to workshops, shops, and above all, bars and venues of every kind. In 1985, the youth center Z6 moved to the rear side of the arches. That same year, Bogen 13 opened, luring an alternative Innsbruck crowd away from the city center and under the viaduct for the first time. Today, pubs, bars, clubs, breweries, restaurants, and snack stands attract a colorful audience that usually celebrates peacefully until the early morning hours. In recent years, many façades have been decorated with striking street art. The district’s bad reputation stems from the comparatively rare exceptions to this peacefulness—but even more from the universal tradition of older generations finding youthful exuberance inherently threatening.

The arches form the largest structure in the city. Stretching 1.8 kilometers along Ing.-Etzel-Straße from the train station to the Mühlau railway bridge, they carry trains across the Inn toward the east. The massive structure was built between 1855 and 1858, during the construction of North Tyrol’s first railway line. The material used was Höttinger breccia, the same stone used in countless Innsbruck landmarks—from the Old Town to the Triumphal Arch to the South Tyrolean housing estates of the 1930s—until the quarries on the Hungerburg eventually closed. Thousands of workers toiled on the enormous construction site. Unlike today, the area traversed by the stone belt was not densely populated; the great wave of development in eastern Saggen—with housing blocks, the military barracks, the fairgrounds with its cycling track, and the slaughterhouse—was still far in the future.

The viaduct arches acted like an artificial barrier between Pradl and the city center. That this separation did not last is due to the mastermind behind Austrian railway construction: Carl Ritter von Ghega (1802–1860). Thanks to the turbulence of global politics, he became involved in what was perhaps the largest infrastructure project of the monarchy—possibly even in Austrian history. Born as Carlo Ghega, the son of a naval officer in Venetia, he grew up under Napoleonic rule. Only after the Congress of Vienna in 1815 did the region, as Lombardy-Venetia, come under the control of the imperial-royal monarchy. After a brief military career, he chose to study in Padua. At only 17, he completed his studies in mathematics and engineering. Following work experience in road construction and on the Northern Railway between Vienna and Moravia, he traveled to England and North America in the mid‑1830s to study railway technology in its birthplace and in the American frontier firsthand. In 1848, Ghega became Inspector General of the State Railways in the Ministry of Public Works, and in the following year head of the railway construction department and of the general directorate for state railway construction. Elevated to nobility by Emperor Franz Joseph I, the Albanian‑Italian Carlo became Carl Ritter von Ghega—the portrait of whom appeared on the Austrian 20‑schilling banknote from 1968 to 1989. It was his plans that connected the vast Habsburg Empire, from Lviv to Bregenz and Trieste. Innsbruck owes part of its ability to grow spatially to his genius. Von Ghega rejected an earlier plan by Alois von Negrelli, which envisioned an embankment between Innsbruck and Pradl. Although cheaper and faster to build, it would have permanently blocked any eastward connection for the city. In 1958, the extension of Museumstraße through the breakthrough to Rapoldipark created today’s main traffic axis between Pradl and the city center. Since then, the arches have been repeatedly renovated and adapted to evolving traffic needs. Several passageways through the viaduct’s 175 arches now connect Dreiheiligen and the various parts of Saggen. Some of the underpasses have been extensively modernized with artistic lighting installations. At Claudiaplatz, a new regional train station and a traffic‑calmed urban park have emerged. That Carl Ritter von Ghega, with his forward‑thinking engineering, would not only enable a transportation solution but inadvertently create an urban nightlife hotspot was surely never his intention.

Between Pradl, Saggen, and Dreiheiligen stands a monument of the interwar period that still conveys the charm of the Vienna municipal housing projects shaped by social democracy. Thanks to its protected status as a historic building, the Schlachthofblock has retained the character of the 1920s. The inner courtyard, complete with laundry‑drying frames, is as unchanged as the bad reputation the settlement along the Sill continues to have. Together with the new houses on Amraser Kaufmannstraße—mockingly nicknamed “Stalingrad”—and the Bocksiedlung in Reichenau, the block was one of Innsbruck’s social hot spots and notorious far beyond the city limits. In 1978, Klaus Pirchmoser wrote the following lines about the complex—without any regard for what we now call political correctness:

"Wilful destruction in the stairwell and basement shows the degree of the "filtering down phase" that has been initiated and also points to a necessary social reorganisation."

The oldest parts of the building, since demolished during renovations, dated back to before the First World War. In 1911, an official residence with nine apartments for employees of the slaughterhouse was constructed. The following year, municipal housing authorities built another block with 16 apartments. As early as 1920, the first resolutions to expand the settlement were passed in the city council. In Vienna, the Metzleinstaler Hof—the first municipal housing project—had been handed over to tenants that same year to address the post‑war housing crisis. As in the capital, thousands of people in Innsbruck lived in shacks or with relatives, without a home of their own. The Social Democrats, strongly represented in Innsbruck’s city council, demanded that the city follow Vienna’s example in matters of social housing. In 1921, a project for the construction of 18 residential buildings was presented. The following year, Mayor Wilhelm Greil submitted an urgent motion from the municipal housing committee to the council. Reading the press coverage surrounding the project, one cannot help but be reminded of modern-day political debates about large-scale public works, more than a century later. How should the investment be divided among city, province, and federal government? Amid the currency troubles of the young Republic of German-Austria, the projected construction costs skyrocketed from 50 million kronen to 1.5 billion kronen in just one year. The various political factions used the cost estimates to support their respective agendas. One city councillor estimated the interest rate on the loan the city needed at 14%, noting that the interest payments alone would devour future rental income. Another warned that the city might eventually be forced to sell property to foreigners and blamed the stagnation in private construction on tenant protection laws—burdens that, he claimed, would only intensify with the new nonprofit housing project. Proposals ranged from founding a construction joint‑stock company to exempting imported cement from customs duties in order to reduce expenses. Advocates of reforming existing municipal housing structures instead of building new ones also made their voices heard, arguing that the municipal housing authority should restrict single tenants from occupying large units rather than spending taxpayers’ money on new construction. Construction of what would later become known as the Schlachthofblock began in 1922. Theodor Prachensky took over the planning on behalf of the Vaterländische Baugesellschaft. Three years later, the 19 five‑story buildings were completed. Prachensky adhered to the Social Democratic architectural vision of modern urban housing that was taking hold in many European cities. Like Gothic, Baroque, and Neoclassicism in the past, the design of public housing followed international stylistic trends. In addition to 183 units of 55 square meters each, four shops and a kindergarten were built. The block was arranged around a spacious, landscaped courtyard with play equipment for children. Although Prachensky designed the façades with simple surfaces and without the pomp of Historicism, he did not forego ornamentation entirely. The ancient amphora motif, overflowing with flowers, symbolizes prosperity, fertility, and joy—a strong sign of renewal after the crisis years. A similar symbol can be found on the north façade of the old market hall. In the case of the Schlachthofblock, the relief was intended to reflect the newfound pride of the working class and point the way toward a prosperous future. In contrast, the residential complex across the street at Erzherzog‑Eugen‑Straße 42–44, planned by Fritz Grüll for the Vienna Housing Cooperative in 1929, features no ornament at all and instead follows the Bauhaus style with its rounded balconies. The Pembaurblock, built shortly afterward according to Prachensky’s plans, also differs markedly from Innsbruck’s first municipal housing project. More than 100 years later—and after many renovations and alterations—the Schlachthofblock still stands in the 21st century, a silent witness to an era of Austrian and Innsbruck history that remains only sparsely illuminated.

At the beginning of the sixteenth century, a turning point in Innsbruck’s urban history, the Golden Roof may have been the most famous contemporary building, but the Zeughaus probably had a much greater impact on everyday life. Between 1500 and 1506, Emperor Maximilian I had this arsenal built in what is now the Saggen district by Jörg Kölderer. Because the old arsenal in the Andechsburg was too small, especially for the large artillery pieces that became more common in the late fifteenth century, a new complex was needed. The Outer Arsenal was at times the largest weapons depot in the Holy Roman Empire and contained equipment and cannon for up to 30,000 soldiers. Court painter Jörg Kölderer depicted it in his “Zeug books”. Under Maximilian, mobile, light artillery developed, which would revolutionise warfare in Europe. Thanks to its location between the theatres of war in northern Italy and Switzerland, Innsbruck was strategically ideal not only as a storage site, but also as a centre for the Empire’s weapons production. With this early‑industrial complex, the small town on the Inn became the hub of the early modern arms industry in the German‑speaking world. The 1,600 m² inner courtyard was enclosed by a two‑storey, castle‑like structure, surrounded by numerous smaller workshop buildings. Until the eighteenth century, a moat encircled the site. The Innsbruck industrial complex extended beyond this armoury: a few kilometres further east, an extension of the arsenal was established from 1511 at today’s Weyrer site in Mühlau, a village that had become a centre for armourers and plate‑makers thanks to the power of the Mühlauer Bach. The arsenal was an economic engine and important employer for the city.

Early industrialisation led to rapid population growth through immigration and profound social change. The influx of workers brought not only numerical growth, but also an entirely new social stratum. Unlike the rural population or the city’s guild‑organised craftsmen, this was an early form of an industrial working class and their families. Not only unskilled labourers but also technicians and casters worked here, highly qualified and coveted key workers who could command good wages. Although Emperor Maximilian achieved major successes in expanding Habsburg power through shrewd marriage policy, he was also an eager warlord. Innsbruck benefited from a share of this war‑driven economic cycle. Even away from the front lines, the weapons plants influenced people’s living conditions. Looking at the development of Dreiheiligen and the Kohlstatt, the everyday lives of the workers and the financing of imperial policy by the Fugger banking house in Augsburg, one gains an impression of early capitalism in Europe.

In the second half of the seventeenth century, the importance of the arms industry in Innsbruck declined. Suits of armour went out of fashion and the front line shifted from Italy to Central Europe, where the Turkish wars dominated events. The arms industry migrated out of the Alpine region towards the north and east. The business of war, however, remained tied to the Zeughaus: the building was used as a barracks until 1918. Anyone strolling once around the site today will find not only the Gothic back door on the east side, but also other interesting structures; the flat houses grouped around courtyards still recall the former military use. Today, the Zeughaus houses a museum with changing exhibitions and a permanent exhibition on the cultural history of Tyrol. Large residential blocks have been built around it, and the former barracks buildings now accommodate a kindergarten. Events such as open‑air cinema screenings take place in the inner courtyard of the Zeughaus.

In the border area between the city center, Dreiheiligen, and Pradl lies, like a small island surrounded by König-Laurin-Straße, Dreiheiligenstraße, and Weinhartstraße, the former Imperial and Royal Garrison Hospital and the Palais Ferrari. Both buildings look back on a long history marked by numerous turning points. The first owner of the palace was Hieronymus Bernardo Ferrari d’Occhieppo (1615–1691). The Piedmontese nobleman entered the service of the House of Habsburg as the chief steward of Archduchess Anna of Austria, wife of the last Tyrolean sovereign, Ferdinand Karl. Later, as a member of Emperor Leopold I’s Privy Council, he belonged to the highest governmental circles of the monarchy. For his services, the devout official received permission from Emperor Leopold to build his Tyrolean residence along the Sill River. In the midst of a spacious park, the three-story Palais Ferrari was built in 1686, based on the plans of Johann Martin Gumpp, in the typical Baroque style of the period. Despite several alterations and renovations, the flair of the 17th century has been preserved to this day. Above the small balcony on the first floor still stands the statue of Maria Immaculata. To shorten his path to heaven, the pious Count Ferrari—who, in addition to his political activities, also served as Commander of the Order of Saints Maurice and Lazarus—donated part of his fortune to the Church and the city of Innsbruck. This sum of 30,000 guilders enabled representatives of the Society of Saint Ursula from Bavaria to be brought to Tyrol, where they founded the city’s first school for girls behind the hospital church. At the entrance to the Ursuline Passage, the order—which dedicated itself primarily to the education of girls—is still prominently visible in the cityscape. As virtuous as the first of the Innsbruck Ferraris was, his descendants were known mainly for their extravagant lifestyle. Within 200 years, the once vast fortune had been squandered. In 1893, the city of Innsbruck took over the estate and leased it to the military. The palace was of interest to the army because, since the Napoleonic Wars, a garrison hospital had been located in the neighboring building at what is now Weinhartstraße 2. As early as the early modern period, a hospital had been established in this industrial district near the Zeughaus. The infirmary and almshouse were first mentioned in 1541. During the plague outbreak of 1611, Innsbruck’s congregational physician Weinhart—after whom the street is named—had the hospital expanded. With measures such as fumigation, improved hygiene, and the popular practice of bloodletting, doctors and clergy attempted to combat the Black Death. In the 19th century, the plague was no longer an issue, but the new style of warfare required modern medical care for an increasing number of wounded and disabled soldiers. The administrative offices of the military hospital were moved into the elegant Palais Ferrari. Before World War I, the garrison hospital relocated to Amras, to what is now Conradstraße. After the war, the Austrian army was drastically reduced, while housing shortages grew. Empty rooms in the former hospital building were converted into municipal apartments. In 1924, the Austrian Federal Railways took over the building to house employees near the train station. Despite several renovations, the core of the building, including the massive entrance gates, still dates back to the 17th century.

The now deteriorating Palais Ferrari was also transferred from military to civilian use. Under the leadership of the later headmistress Adolfine Sieberer, Ministerial Director Herta von Sprung of the First Republic, and Mayor Wilhelm Greil, the School for Domestic and Vocational Training of Women found its new home here. In 1922, the school was expanded to include a horticulture program and came under federal administration. The strained state budget during the years of the global economic crisis also affected the school: only through sales of fruit and vegetables from its own garden and scholarships from the local savings bank could operations be maintained during the 1930s. The following decades were hardly easier. War and air raids took their toll. During World War II, refugees were housed in the upper floor of the Palais Ferrari. To protect them from bombardments, the students were relocated to Imst. In the decades after the war, the garden and school were renovated and modernized, and they flourished anew. Rudi Wach, the artist behind the controversial crucifix on the Inn Bridge, created the stone statue Flora with Deer, which, along with other 1950s artworks, still adorns the garden. To meet the requirements of modern education, several extensions and additions were made to the Baroque palace. The countless changes in the school’s structure throughout the 20th century reflect the slowly developing and shifting professional opportunities available to young women. Despite official efforts, the school was perceived well into the postwar period primarily as a training institution for future housewives and mothers. Only with its transformation into a fashion school did vocational training move to the forefront. Today, young men may also take their final exams here, and in addition to traditional areas of study, the curriculum now includes nursing and media design. The builder of the original palace—who in 1689 also endowed the Ursuline order with the means to found the first girls’ school in Innsbruck—would surely take satisfaction in knowing that his palazzo and the Ursulines, more than three centuries later and affectionately mocked by the public as the “Putz- und Knödelakademie” (“Cleaning and Dumpling Academy”), continue to be pillars of Innsbruck’s educational landscape.

The mining boom in the Tyrolean Lower Inn Valley, along with the influx of workers it brought, long-distance trade, and Innsbruck’s growing political importance, provided not only prosperity. With the desired travelers also came the undesired ones into the city. In 1512 more than 500 people in Innsbruck died of the plague, and in 1543 the Black Death visited the city again. Mother Nature, too, seemed to rise against the residence city. In 1572 Innsbruck was severely affected by an earthquake. Regular flooding disasters and supply shortages caused by failed harvests further added to the hardships. In accordance with the spirit of the Counter-Reformation, many people blamed sinful and blasphemous behavior for these misfortunes. The Church’s efforts to counter God’s wrath manifested not only in pious, God-fearing lifestyles but also in magnificent architecture and the settlement of new religious orders, such as the Franciscans and the Jesuits. At the same time, city officials, territorial rulers, and devout citizens sought to provide pastoral care for the workers and their families, hoping to guide them toward moral improvement. One such devout citizen was the physician Paul Weinhart (1570–1648), who had come from Augsburg to Innsbruck. During the plague epidemic of 1611, which reached Innsbruck from the silver-mining town of Schwaz, he served as a contagions physician, heading the municipal plague council, which among other duties managed the plague hospital in Kohlstatt. Weinhart was affected by the plague not only professionally: he lived with his family in the house that still bears his name today, located at the current corner of Klara-Pölt-Weg and Dreiheiligenstraße, in the very center of the epidemic. His wife was among the many victims in that outer district of the city. The presence of the Zeughaus (armory) had caused Kohlstatt to grow rapidly since the days of Emperor Maximilian, as many laborers were needed there. Workers and their families lived in cramped wooden huts under unhygienic conditions, which accelerated the spread of the disease. The plague cemetery established in 1564 acted almost like an accelerant. On today’s Weinhartstraße, Dr. Weinhart had the existing infirmary for the sick and weak expanded. Yet he did not rely solely on his medical expertise; he entrusted the city’s well-being to the plague saints Pirmin, Sebastian, and Rochus. Together with the hospital chaplain Kaspar Melchior von Köstlan, he vowed to build a church if only the plague would cease. The mixture of faith and science was not unusual at that time. Weinhart saw himself not only as a doctor but also as a spiritual caregiver for plague victims. Among the city’s poor he was known for his charity and was widely beloved. At the same time, he was well connected with the territorial ruler and the Jesuits. He was also highly respected among colleagues. The town physician of Hall wrote about his walks with Dr. Weinhart:

“This walk is so well known and familiar to me and to my noble, highly learned, dearly beloved brother in Christ, Herr Paulo Weinhard, that we have missed scarcely half a month so far…”

Thanks to his connections at court, the later court physician of Archduke Maximilian III succeeded in fulfilling his promise and having a church built next to the plague hospital. The Dreiheiligenkirche (Church of the Three Saints) was consecrated on 13 October 1613 after two years of construction. The present rectory, which previously served as the princely administrator’s house for the Kohlstatt area, is older than the church itself. Dr. Weinhart had himself immortalized in the ceiling fresco next to the Jesuit Melchior Köstlan. Anyone lucky enough to enter the interior — often closed — can view a contemporary depiction of events during the plague epidemic. The dark painting vividly portrays both popular superstition and criticism of the authorities. The Tyrolean government had fled the city after the outbreak of the plague, prompting the artist to depict them in a distant palace, far removed from the people. The Black Death appears as a skeleton on a black horse, armed with a bow and a winged hourglass. The afflicted have been struck down by the skeleton’s arrows. One sufferer receives the last rites from a clergyman while the devil hides behind the deathbed. In the background lies a field camp full of soldiers, also struck by arrows, collapsing on the ground. In 1863, an entrance bay was added to the Dreiheiligenkirche. In 1900, the distinctive façade mosaic designed by Philipp Schumacher and produced by the Tyrolean Institute for Glass Painting and Mosaics was installed. The façade of the plague church shows the three plague saints, who have since been counted among Innsbruck’s many patron saints. The fourth, Alexius, protector against earthquakes, was relocated to Kohlstatt after the dissolution of the nearby Seven Chapels complex in the 18th century under Emperor Joseph II. The façade bears the inscriptions: A peste et ab omni malo libera nos Domine (Lord, deliver us from the plague and all evil) Salus Infirmorum (Health of the sick) Auxilium Christianorum (Help of Christians) At the feet of the Virgin Mary, seated with the Child, lies the crescent moon — a symbol also found on the Anna Column. Like the original 17th-century construction, the new façade did not originate from a religious order such as the omnipresent Premonstratensians. But unlike earlier times, it was not the ruling prince who sponsored the renovation; instead, it was made possible by the “munificence of the Innsbruck Savings Bank, represented by its board Anton von Schumacher, President of the Chamber of Commerce, and its director Dr. Heinrich Falk, former mayor.”

The Convent of Perpetual Adoration has existed since 1870. Although Innsbruck had not been a center of the 1848 revolutionary movement, the spirit of Enlightenment had by then made its way into the bourgeoisie. Darwin had just presented his theory of evolution, standing in stark contrast to the biblical story of creation. Liberal and conservative newspapers fiercely attacked one another over this new worldview and projected the global atmosphere onto local politics. The construction of the convent at Hirschanger on the northern side of the Hofgarten sparked lively debate in 19th‑century Innsbruck, for it was not a typical monastic house but the establishment of an especially strict order. The Sisters of Perpetual Adoration still take a vow of silence to this day. The fact that the order originated in Italy also aroused suspicion. Austria had long been at war with the newly forming state of Italy, and in the bilingual crown land of Tyrol, hostility toward the “Walsche” was particularly strong. Several potential locations were considered and repeatedly rejected. In 1866, the Military Educational Institute in Hall had been proposed as the site for the convent. Shortly thereafter, the benefactress, Miss Sophie von Angelini—a young woman from a respected family—attempted to initiate construction on Meinhardstraße, but her plan failed due to opposition from the citizens’ committee. The Chamber of Commerce and Trade had settled there. The press reported critically:

“Miss Sofie von Angelini submitted a request to the city council on 5 September 1868 for permission to build a women’s convent on Meinhardstraße, but it was rejected on the 19th of the same month, with the remark that the proposed project would exceed the established building line on that side of the street, and such a deviation could not be granted—especially since, according to the decision of the citizens’ committee, it is not at all the wish of the city that a convent be constructed on the mentioned street.”

After lengthy back‑and‑forth negotiations, the convent was eventually erected despite opposition and with much persistence. Although Innsbruck’s liberals had to yield in this case, they noted:

“While all respect is paid to religious sentiment, it must nevertheless be pointed out that these nuns come together solely for their own closed spiritual edification, yet accumulate capital into ‘dead hands’—capital withdrawn from economic activity, industry, trade, and above all from their own relatives. This national economic loss encompasses strength, time, and money.”

The chosen site was Hirschanger in Saggen, adjacent to the Hofgarten. Where villas and small residential buildings stand today, the area was open land in 1868. The construction was carried out by the company Huter & Sons. The mosaic work was executed by the Tyrolean Institute of Stained Glass and Mosaics. Felix Schatz of Thaur (1847–1905) created an impressive façade. Similar to the murals on the Dreiheiligen Church and the Collegium Canisianum, which were created around the same time, Schatz designed the image in vivid colors against a gold background. The domed interior rivals the entrance portal. The statues of Saint James and Saint Andrew stand resplendently beside the high altar, which is dominated by Jesus on the cross with Mary and Mary Magdalene. Michael Stolz from Matrei (1820–1890) produced the gold‑decorated mosaic of the four evangelists.

The Convent of Perpetual Adoration in Innsbruck is the only one operated by the order in the entire German‑speaking world. The first convent was founded in Rome in 1807 by Caterina Sordini, who, during her novitiate with the Franciscan Sisters, experienced a divine vision instructing her to establish a new order. The nuns venerate Mary as Our Lady of Sorrows. The Innsbruck convent belongs to this Italian federation, consisting of 16 convents and nearly 240 members. The Sisters of Perpetual Adoration live a highly modest and devout life in complete seclusion and community, following the Rule of Saint Augustine:

“The first goal of your communal life is to live together in harmony in the same house, and to be one heart and one soul in God.”

The sisters produce communion hosts and tend to the monastery garden. The center of their faith, however, is the Perpetual Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament, which each member is to practice day and night. Those who wish may spend time experiencing monastic life to find peace amid seclusion in the heart of the city. Prayer intentions can be submitted in a modern way via an online form on the convent’s website.