Church of the Holy Trinity

Dreiheiligenstraße 10

Worth knowing

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 Teutonic Order & Maximilian III.

Maximilian the German master (1558 - 1618) officially took up his post as Gubernator of Tyrol and Vorderösterreich in 1602. Unlike his predecessors, he was the administrator of the land and not its owner. This was reflected in his demeanour. He was a pious and deeply religious man who had to reconcile Christian charity with the political office of regent in a peculiar way. He regularly withdrew for long periods into the seclusion of his study in the Capuchin monastery, founded in 1594, in order to live there in the most modest and austere conditions. He did not organise any lavish parties. He cut Ferdinand's bloated court almost in half. Under Maximilian, strict customs were introduced in Innsbruck. According to legend, children were forbidden to play in the streets. As a fervent representative of the Counter-Reformation, the enforcement of the Catholic faith was of particular concern to him. Unlike his predecessors, he wanted to achieve this through moral rigour rather than ostentatious building projects. He limited himself to completing churches that had already been started, such as the Servite Church or the Jesuit Church, instead of burdening the Tyrolean treasury with new projects. The Innsbruck district of St Nicholas was given its own parish priest, who watched over the salvation of the less well-off but all the more hard-working subjects. Maximilian did not organise lavish concerts in theatres, but together with the widow of his predecessor, Anna Katharina Gonzaga, promoted church singing. Nativity scenes and Easter graves began to establish themselves as an expression of popular faith. Whether it was his example as a pious sovereign, his moderate and prudent religious policy or counter-reformatory suppression, Protestant ideas died a quiet death in the Holy Land of Tyrol under Maximilian's reign, while they continued to simmer in many German principalities.

However, his piety did not exclude scientific interest and the practical measures derived from it for the good of the city. The 17th century was a time when open-minded aristocrats turned to alchemists to replenish the state coffers and had horoscopes cast by scientists such as Johannes Keppler, while they violently campaigned against the "heresy" of the Protestants. The Jesuit, physicist and astronomer Christoph Scheiner, one of the discoverers of sunspots alongside Galileo Galilei, spent three years at Maximilian's court in Innsbruck and researched the function of the human eye at the Inn. Maximilian had him set up a telescope and carried out astronomical research together with Scheiner. Educational institutions also benefited from him. During his reign, the Jesuits expanded their educational mission to include the study of theology and dialectics, which was the first step towards a university. 

However, the beginning of the Enlightenment was not just a matter for the princely study room, but was also reflected in the everyday life of the citizens of Innsbruck. The city's fire-fighting system and the hygiene of the Ritschenwhich served as a sewerage system and water source within the city walls, were improved under Maximilian according to the latest knowledge of the time. The second measure in particular was intended to protect the city from a repeat of the great catastrophe under Maximilian's aegis. During his reign, he had to deal with the outbreak of a plague epidemic. The Dreiheiligenkirche church in Kohlstatt, the working-class neighbourhood of the early modern period near the Zeughaus, was built under his patronage to ensure heavenly patronage as well as protection through better hygiene. 

The year of Maximilian's death in 1618 marked the beginning of the Thirty Years' War in Europe. As boring as his pious and peaceful reign without ostentation and drama may seem today, the years of peace were probably a blessing for his contemporaries. The moralising Habsburg took the thankless middle seat between the eccentrics Ferdinand II and Leopold V and could hardly leave his mark on the city's memory. Alongside the Dreiheiligenkirche, his final resting place is his most conspicuous legacy. Maximilian's tomb in Innsbruck Cathedral is one of the most remarkable tombs of the Baroque period. 

It also tells the interesting story of the Teutonic Order. Maximilian was not only Gubernator of Tyrol and Vorderösterreich, but also Archduke of Austria, Administrator of Prussia and Grand Master of the Teutonic Order. Another Grand Master of the Teutonic Order from the House of Habsburg with a connection to Innsbruck is also buried next to him. Archduke Eugene was the supreme commander of the Austro-Hungarian army on the Italian front during the First World War. The German Orders vividly illustrates the theological mindset and the connection between pious faith and secular power in the early modern period. In the period up to 1500, devout piety and the fear of God were often combined with the exercise of secular power. The order was founded as an order of knights in Jerusalem around 1120 as part of the Crusades. Church and chivalry united to enable pilgrims to visit the holy cities, especially the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, without danger. After the expulsion from Palestine, the knights of the Teutonic Order became involved on the side of Christian Magyars in Transylvania in what is now Romania against pagan tribes. In the 13th century, the Order under Hermann von Salza was able to gain a lot of land in the Baltic region in the fight against the pagan Prussians and conquer the Teutonic Order state establish. This brotherhood acted as a kind of state that, like religious fundamentalists today, invoked God and wanted to establish his order on earth. It was ideals such as Christian charity and the protection of the poor and helpless that also characterised the Teutonic Order at its core. This made it an ideal fit for the Habsburg dynasty. After the decline of the Order in north-east Europe in the 15th century, the Order retained its possessions and power through skilful liaison with the nobility and the military, particularly in the Habsburg Empire. 



The Red Bishop and Innsbruck's moral decay

In the 1950s, Innsbruck began to recover from the crisis and war years of the first half of the 20th century. On 15 May 1955, Federal Chancellor Leopold Figl declared with the famous words "Austria is free" and the signing of the State Treaty officially marked the political turning point. In many households, the "political turnaround" became established in the years known as Economic miracle moderate prosperity. Between 1953 and 1962, annual economic growth of over 6% allowed an increasing proportion of the population to dream of things that had long been exotic, such as refrigerators, their own bathroom or even a holiday in the south. This period brought not only material but also social change. People's desires became more outlandish with increasing prosperity and the lifestyle conveyed in advertising and the media. The phenomenon of a new youth culture began to spread gently amidst the grey society of small post-war Austria. The terms Teenager and "latchkey kid" entered the Austrian language in the 1950s. The big world came to Innsbruck via films. Cinema screenings and cinemas had already existed in Innsbruck at the turn of the century, but in the post-war period the programme was adapted to a young audience for the first time. Hardly anyone had a television set in their living room and the programme was meagre. The numerous cinemas courted the public's favour with scandalous films. From 1956, the magazine BRAVO. For the first time, there was a medium that was orientated towards the interests of young people. The first issue featured Marylin Monroe, with the question: „Marylin's curves also got married?“ The big stars of the early years were James Dean and Peter Kraus, before the Beatles took over in the 60s. After the Summer of Love Dr Sommer explained about love and sex. The church's omnipotent authority over the moral behaviour of adolescents began to crumble, albeit only slowly. The first photo love story with bare breasts did not follow until 1982. Until the 1970s, the opportunities for adolescent Innsbruckers were largely limited to pub parlours, shooting clubs and brass bands. Only gradually did bars, discos, nightclubs, pubs and event venues open. Events such as the 5 o'clock tea dance at the Sporthotel Igls attracted young people looking for a mate. The Cafe Central became the „second home of long-haired teenagers“, as the Tiroler Tageszeitung newspaper stated with horror in 1972. Establishments like the Falconry cellar in the Gilmstraße, the Uptown Jazzsalon in Hötting, the jazz club in the Hofgasse, the Clima Club in Saggen, the Scotch Club in the Angerzellgasse and the Tangent in Bruneckerstraße had nothing in common with the traditional Tyrolean beer and wine bar. The performances by the Rolling Stones and Deep Purple in the Olympic Hall in 1973 were the high point of Innsbruck's spring awakening for the time being. Innsbruck may not have become London or San Francisco, but it had at least breathed a breath of rock'n'roll. What is still anchored in cultural memory today as the '68 movement took place in the Holy Land hardly took place. Neither workers nor students took to the barricades in droves. The historian Fritz Keller described the „68 movement in Austria as "Mail fan“. Nevertheless, society was quietly and secretly changing. A look at the annual charts gives an indication of this. In 1964, it was still Chaplain Alfred Flury and Freddy with „Leave the little things“ and „Give me your word" and the Beatles with their German version of "Come, give me your hand who dominated the Top 10, musical tastes changed in the years leading up to the 1970s. Peter Alexander and Mireille Mathieu were still to be found in the charts. From 1967, however, it was international bands with foreign-language lyrics such as The Rolling Stones, Tom Jones, The Monkees, Scott McKenzie, Adriano Celentano or Simon and Garfunkel, who occupied the top positions in great density with partly socially critical lyrics.

This change provoked a backlash. The spearhead of the conservative counter-revolution was the Innsbruck bishop Paulus Rusch. Cigarettes, alcohol, overly permissive fashion, holidays abroad, working women, nightclubs, premarital sex, the 40-hour week, Sunday sporting events, dance evenings, mixed sexes in school and leisure - all of these things were strictly abhorrent to the strict churchman and follower of the Sacred Heart cult. Peter Paul Rusch was born in Munich in 1903 and grew up in Vorarlberg as the youngest of three children in a middle-class household. Both parents and his older sister died of tuberculosis before he reached adulthood. At the young age of 17, Rusch had to fend for himself early on in the meagre post-war period. Inflation had eaten up his father's inheritance, which could have financed his studies, in no time at all. Rusch worked for six years at the Bank for Tyrol and Vorarlberg, in order to finance his theological studies. He entered the Collegium Canisianum in 1927 and was ordained a priest of the Jesuit order six years later. His stellar career took the intelligent young man first to Lech and Hohenems as chaplain and then back to Innsbruck as head of the seminary. In 1938, he became titular bishop of Lykopolis and Apostolic Administrator for Tyrol and Vorarlberg. As the youngest bishop in Europe, he had to survive the harassment of the church by the National Socialist rulers. Although his critical attitude towards National Socialism was well known, Rusch himself was never imprisoned. Those in power were too afraid of turning the popular young bishop into a martyr.

After the war, the socially and politically committed bishop was at the forefront of reconstruction efforts. He wanted the church to have more influence on people's everyday lives again. His father had worked his way up from carpenter to architect and probably gave him a soft spot for the building industry. He also had his own experience at BTV. Thanks to his training as a banker, Rusch recognised the opportunities for the church to get involved and make a name for itself as a helper in times of need. It was not only the churches that had been damaged in the war that were rebuilt. The Catholic Youth under Rusch's leadership, was involved free of charge in the construction of the Heiligjahrsiedlung in the Höttinger Au. The diocese bought a building plot from the Ursuline order for this purpose. The loans for the settlers were advanced interest-free by the church. Decades later, his rustic approach to the housing issue would earn him the title of "Red Bishop" to the new home. In the modest little houses with self-catering gardens, in line with the ideas of the dogmatic and frugal "working-class bishop", 41 families, preferably with many children, found a new home.

By alleviating the housing shortage, the greatest threats in the Cold WarCommunism and socialism, from his community. The atheism prescribed by communism and the consumer-orientated capitalism that had swept into Western Europe from the USA after the war were anathema to him. In 1953, Rusch's book "Young worker, where to?". What sounds like revolutionary, left-wing reading from the Kremlin showed the principles of Christian social teaching, which castigated both capitalism and socialism. Families should live modestly in order to live in Christian harmony with the moderate financial means of a single father. Entrepreneurs, employees and workers were to form a peaceful unity. Co-operation instead of class warfare, the basis of today's social partnership. To each his own place in a Christian sense, a kind of modern feudal system that was already planned for use in Dollfuß's corporative state. He shared his political views with Governor Eduard Wallnöfer and Mayor Alois Lugger, who, together with the bishop, organised the Holy Trinity of conservative Tyrol at the time of the economic miracle. Rusch combined this with a latent Catholic anti-Semitism that was still widespread in Tyrol after 1945 and which, thanks to aberrations such as the veneration of the Anderle von Rinn has long been a tradition.

Education and training were of particular concern to the pugnacious Jesuit. The social formation across all classes by the soldiers of Christ could look back on a long tradition in Innsbruck. In 1909, the Jesuit priest and former prison chaplain Alois Mathiowitz (1853 - 1922) founded the Peter-Mayr-Bund. His approach was to put young people on the right path through leisure activities and sport and adults from working-class backgrounds through lectures and popular education. The workers' youth centre in Reichenauerstraße, which was built under his aegis, still serves as a youth centre and kindergarten today. Rusch also had experience with young people. In 1936, he was elected regional field master of the scouts in Vorarlberg. Despite a speech impediment, he was a charismatic guy and extremely popular with his young colleagues and teenagers. In his opinion, only a sound education under the wing of the church according to the Christian model could save the salvation of young people. In order to give young people a perspective and steer them in an orderly direction with a home and family, the Youth building society savings strengthened. In the parishes, kindergartens, youth centres and educational institutions such as the House of encounter on Rennweg in order to have education in the hands of the church right from the start. The vast majority of the social life of the city's young people did not take place in disreputable dive bars. Most young people simply didn't have the money to go out regularly. Many found their place in the more or less orderly channels of Catholic youth organisations. Alongside the ultra-conservative Bishop Rusch, a generation of liberal clerics grew up who became involved in youth work. In the 1960s and 70s, two church youth movements with great influence were active in Innsbruck. Sigmund Kripp and Meinrad Schumacher were responsible for this, who were able to win over teenagers and young adults with new approaches to education and a more open approach to sensitive topics such as sexuality and drugs. The education of the elite in the spirit of the Jesuit order was provided in Innsbruck from 1578 by the Marian Congregation. This youth organisation, still known today as the MK, took care of secondary school pupils. The MK had a strict hierarchical structure in order to give the young Soldaten Christi obedience from the very beginning. In 1959, Father Sigmund Kripp took over the leadership of the organisation. Under his leadership, the young people, with financial support from the church, state and parents and with a great deal of personal effort, set up projects such as the Mittergrathütte including its own material cable car in Kühtai and the legendary youth centre Kennedy House in the Sillgasse. Chancellor Klaus and members of the American embassy were present at the laying of the foundation stone for this youth centre, which was to become the largest of its kind in Europe with almost 1,500 members, as the building was dedicated to the first Catholic president of the USA, who had only recently been assassinated.

The other church youth organisation in Innsbruck was Z6. The city's youth chaplain, Chaplain Meinrad Schumacher, took care of the youth organisation as part of the Action 4-5-6 to all young people who are in the MK or the Catholic Student Union had no place. Working-class children and apprentices met in various youth centres such as Pradl or Reichenau before the new centre, also built by the members themselves, was opened at Zollerstraße 6 in 1971. Josef Windischer took over the management of the centre. The Z6 already had more to do with what Dennis Hopper and Peter Fonda were doing on the big screen on their motorbikes in Easy Rider was shown. Things were rougher here than in the MK. Rock gangs like the Santanas, petty criminals and drug addicts also spent their free time in Z6. While Schumacher reeled off his programme upstairs with the "good" youngsters, Windischer and the Outsiders the basement to help the lost sheep as much as possible.

At the end of the 1960s, both the MK and the Z6 decided to open up to non-members. Girls' and boys' groups were partially merged and non-members were also admitted. Although the two youth centres had different target groups, the concept was the same. Theological knowledge and Christian morals were taught in a playful, age-appropriate environment. Sections such as chess, football, hockey, basketball, music, cinema films and a party room catered to the young people's needs for games, sport and the removal of taboos surrounding their first sexual experiences. The youth centres offered a space where young people of both sexes could meet. However, the MK in particular remained an institution that had nothing to do with the wild life of the '68ers, as it is often portrayed in films. For example, dance courses did not take place during Advent, carnival or on Saturdays, and for under-17s they were forbidden.

Nevertheless, the youth centres went too far for Bishop Rusch. The critical articles in the MK newspaper We discuss, which reached a circulation of over 2,000 copies, found less and less favour. Solidarity with Vietnam was one thing, but criticism of marksmen and the army could not be tolerated. After years of disputes between the bishop and the youth centre, it came to a showdown in 1973. When Father Kripp published his book Farewell to tomorrow in which he reported on his pedagogical concept and the work in the MK, there were non-public proceedings within the diocese and the Jesuit order against the director of the youth centre. Despite massive protests from parents and members, Kripp was removed. Neither the intervention within the church by the eminent theologian Karl Rahner, nor a petition initiated by the artist Paul Flora, nor regional and national outrage in the press could save the overly liberal Father from the wrath of Rusch, who even secured the papal blessing from Rome for his removal from office.

In July 1974, the Z6 was also temporarily over. Articles about the contraceptive pill and the Z6 newspaper's criticism of the Catholic Church were too much for the strict bishop. Rusch had the keys to the youth centre changed without further ado, a method he also used at the Catholic Student Union when it got too close to a left-wing action group. The Tiroler Tageszeitung noted this in a small article on 1 August 1974:

"In recent weeks, there had been profound disputes between the educators and the bishop over fundamental issues. According to the bishop, the views expressed in "Z 6" were "no longer in line with church teaching". For example, the leadership of the centre granted young people absolute freedom of conscience without simultaneously recognising objective norms and also permitted sexual relations before marriage."

It was his adherence to conservative values and his stubbornness that damaged Rusch's reputation in the last 20 years of his life. When he was consecrated as the first bishop of the newly founded diocese of Innsbruck in 1964, times were changing. The progressive with practical life experience of the past was overtaken by the modern life of a new generation and the needs of the emerging consumer society. The bishop's constant criticism of the lifestyle of his flock and his stubborn adherence to his overly conservative values, coupled with some bizarre statements, turned the co-founder of development aid into a Brother in needthe young, hands-on bishop of the reconstruction, from the late 1960s onwards as a reason for leaving the church. His concept of repentance and penance took on bizarre forms. He demanded guilt and atonement from the Tyroleans for their misdemeanours during the Nazi era, but at the same time described the denazification laws as too far-reaching and strict. In response to the new sexual practices and abortion laws under Chancellor Kreisky, he said that girls and young women who have premature sexual intercourse are up to twelve times more likely to develop cancer of the mother's organs. Rusch described Hamburg as a cesspool of sin and he suspected that the simple minds of the Tyrolean population were not up to phenomena such as tourism and nightclubs and were tempted to immoral behaviour. He feared that technology and progress were making people too independent of God. He was strictly against the new custom of double income. People should be satisfied with a spiritual family home with a vegetable garden and not strive for more; women should concentrate on their traditional role as housewife and mother.

In 1973, after 35 years at the head of the church community in Tyrol and Innsbruck, Bishop Rusch was made an honorary citizen of the city of Innsbruck. He resigned from his office in 1981. In 1986, Innsbruck's first bishop was laid to rest in St Jakob's Cathedral. The Bishop Paul's Student Residence The church of St Peter Canisius in the Höttinger Au, which was built under him, commemorates him.

After its closure in 1974, the Z6 youth centre moved to Andreas-Hofer-Straße 11 before finding its current home in Dreiheiligenstraße, in the middle of the working-class district of the early modern period opposite the Pest Church. Jussuf Windischer remained in Innsbruck after working on social projects in Brazil. The father of four children continued to work with socially marginalised groups, was a lecturer at the Social Academy, prison chaplain and director of the Caritas Integration House in Innsbruck.

The MK also still exists today, even though the Kennedy House, which was converted into a Sigmund Kripp House was renamed, no longer exists. In 2005, Kripp was made an honorary citizen of the city of Innsbruck by his former sodalist and later deputy mayor, like Bishop Rusch before him.

Baroque: art movement and art of living

Anyone traveling through Austria is familiar with the domes and onion-shaped towers of churches in towns and villages. They are the characteristic hallmark of the Baroque architectural style, which reached its peak during the Counter-Reformation and continues to shape the cityscape of Innsbruck to this day. The most prominent churches—such as the Cathedral, St. John’s Church, or the Jesuit Church—are built in the Baroque style. Places of worship were meant to be splendid and magnificent, symbols of the triumph of the true faith. The exuberant, all-encompassing piety of elites and subjects alike was reflected in art and culture: great drama, pathos, suffering, splendor, and glory combined to form the Baroque—a style that left a lasting imprint on the entire Catholic sphere of influence of the Habsburgs and their allies between Spain and Hungary. From the seventeenth century onward, the Gumpp family of master builders and Johann Georg Fischer fundamentally transformed Innsbruck’s cityscape. The Old Provincial Government Building in the Old Town, the New Provincial Government Building on Maria-Theresien-Strasse, countless palazzi, paintings, and sculptures—the Baroque was the defining stylistic force of the House of Habsburg in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries and became embedded in everyday life. The bourgeoisie did not wish to lag behind the nobility and princes and therefore had their private residences built in the Baroque style as well. Farmhouses were adorned with images of saints, depictions of the Virgin Mary, and representations of the Sacred Heart of Jesus.

Yet the Baroque was more than an architectural style; it was a way of life that emerged in the aftermath of the Thirty Years’ War. The Ottoman threat from the east, culminating in the two sieges of Vienna, dominated the empire’s foreign policy, while the Reformation shaped domestic affairs. Baroque culture became a central element of Catholicism and its political self-representation in public space—a countermodel to the austere and rigorous way of life advocated by Calvin and Luther. Christian holidays were introduced to brighten everyday life. Architecture, music, and painting were rich, full, and exuberant. In theatres such as the Comedihaus in Innsbruck, dramas with religious themes were performed. Ways of the Cross with chapels and representations of the crucified Christ crisscrossed the landscape. Popular piety, expressed through pilgrimages and the veneration of Mary and the saints, became firmly embedded in everyday church life. Multiple crises shaped daily existence. In addition to war and famine, plague epidemics occurred particularly frequently in the seventeenth century. Baroque piety was used as a means of educating subjects, teaching them to interpret these calamities as expressions of God’s dissatisfaction—misfortunes that could be remedied through a devout and virtuous way of life. Although the sale of indulgences was no longer common practice in the Catholic Church after the sixteenth century, vivid notions of heaven and hell persisted. Through a virtuous life—that is, living in accordance with Catholic values and displaying proper conduct as a subject within the divine order—one could come significantly closer to paradise. So-called Christian devotional literature became the most popular reading material following the educational reforms of the eighteenth century and the rising literacy of the population. The suffering of the Crucified for humanity was regarded as a symbol of the hardship endured by subjects on earth within the feudal system. Through votive paintings, people sought assistance in times of hardship or expressed gratitude—most often to the Virgin Mary—for surviving dangers and illnesses. Particularly impressive votive paintings can be admired in the Wilten Basilica. The historian Ernst Hanisch described the Baroque and its influence on the Austrian way of life as follows:

“Austria emerged in its modern form as a crusading imperialism—externally against the Turks and internally against the Reformers. This brought bureaucracy and the military, and externally a multiethnic society. State and Church attempted to control the intimate sphere of citizens’ lives. Everyone had to reform themselves through the confessional; sexuality was restricted, norm-compliant sexuality enforced. People were systematically trained to dissemble.”

Rituals and submissive behavior toward authority left deep traces in everyday culture, distinguishing Catholic countries such as Austria and Italy to this day from Protestant-influenced regions such as Germany, England, or Scandinavia. Austrians’ passion for academic titles has its roots in Baroque hierarchies. The term Baroque prince refers to a particularly patriarchal and patronizing politician who knows how to captivate an audience with grand gestures. While political sobriety is valued in Germany, the style of Austrian politicians remains theatrical—entirely in keeping with the Austrian adage “Schaumamal” (“let’s see”).

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.

Innsbruck's industrial revolutions

Innsbruck has always seen itself primarily as a city of trade, tourism, and academia. In reality, however, manufacturing and productive industries have played a significant role in its history. As early as the fifteenth century, a proto‑industrial form of production began to emerge from traditional crafts. Metalworking flourished in the booming residential city, driven by the construction boom and the demand for weapons and armour. A combination of factors made this possible: the city’s favourable transport connections, the availability of water power, Innsbruck’s political rise, the craftsmanship of its artisans, and access to capital under Maximilian all contributed to the development of necessary infrastructure. Bell founders and armaments manufacturers such as the Löffler family established workshops in Hötting, Mühlau, and Dreiheiligen that ranked among the leading enterprises of their time in Europe. Along the Sill Canal, mills and workshops harnessed water power as an energy source. Powder mills and silver smelting works were located in Silbergasse, today’s Universitätsstraße. In what is now Adamgasse, close to the city, a munitions factory once stood, which exploded in 1636.

The wealth generated by metalworking stimulated other sectors of the economy. By the early seventeenth century, around 270 businesses were operating in Innsbruck, providing employment for masters, journeymen, and apprentices. Although most of the population was still engaged in administration, trade and craft industries—and the money they generated—began to attract a new social stratum. This led to a redistribution within the city. Citizens and businesses gradually displaced officials and members of the aristocracy from the Neustadt. Many of the Baroque palazzi that now line Maria‑Theresien‑Straße were built during this period, while districts such as Dreiheiligen and St. Nikolaus developed into industrial and working‑class quarters. In addition to metalworking in the Silbergasse area, tanners, carpenters, wagon makers, builders, stonemasons, and other crafts associated with early industrialisation settled here.

Industrial development reshaped not only the social structure through the influx of new workers and their families, but also the physical appearance of Innsbruck. Workers, unlike peasants, were not subjects bound to a feudal lord, even if they remained subordinate to the strict authority of their employers. Entrepreneurs were not of noble birth, yet often possessed greater financial resources than the aristocracy. Traditional hierarchies still existed but began to show signs of strain. The new bourgeoisie introduced new fashions and dressed differently. Capital from outside flowed into the city. Housing and churches were built for the incoming population. The working‑class districts outside the city walls were viewed with suspicion by long‑time residents, not least because overcrowded conditions were believed to foster outbreaks of plague. Large workshops altered both the smell and soundscape of the city. Industrial sites were noisy, and smoke from furnaces polluted the air. Innsbruck had evolved from a small settlement at the Inn Bridge into a proto‑industrial town.

Growth was interrupted for several decades at the end of the eighteenth century by the Napoleonic Wars. Compared to other parts of Europe, the second wave of industrialisation arrived relatively late in Innsbruck. One reason was the delayed development of a functioning banking system. For devout Catholics, bankers were still regarded as “usurers and moneylenders,” and financial dealings were considered morally questionable. Without access to credit, however, large enterprises could not be established. Although the Tyrolean provincial government had founded the Banko as early as 1715 and a private bank operated in Herzog‑Friedrich‑Straße, it was only with the establishment of a branch of the savings bank that people no longer had to keep their money hidden at home. From around 1850 onwards, credit became available, enabling the creation of larger local enterprises. Traditional crafts—both urban guild-based workshops and seasonal rural production—came under pressure from modern industrial manufacturing. Modern factories emerged in St. Nikolaus, Wilten, Mühlau, and Pradl along the Mühlbach and Sill Canal. Many innovative entrepreneurs came from outside Innsbruck. In what is now Innstraße 23, Peter Walde, who had moved from Lusatia to Innsbruck, founded a business in 1777 producing goods derived from fats, such as tallow candles and soap. Eight generations later, Walde remains one of Austria’s oldest family businesses, and its historic headquarters—with its Gothic vaulted ceilings—still sells soaps and candles today. Franz Josef Adam, originally from the Vinschgau, established what became the city’s largest brewery in a former aristocratic residence. In 1838, the spinning machine arrived in Pradl via the Dornbirn firm Herrburger & Rhomberg, bringing textile production into the region. The company had acquired land along the Sill floodplain, where water power provided ideal conditions for operating heavy machinery. Alongside wool, cotton was now also processed.

As 400 years earlier, the Second Industrial Revolution fundamentally transformed both the city and the daily lives of its inhabitants. Districts such as Mühlau, Pradl, and Wilten expanded rapidly. Factories were often located directly within residential areas. Around 1900, more than twenty enterprises were still using the Sill Canal. The Haidmühle in Salurnerstraße operated from 1315 to 1907. A textile factory in Dreiheiligenstraße was also powered by the canal. Noise and emissions from machinery placed heavy burdens on residents, as described in a newspaper article from 1912:

“The installation of an explosion engine in the Hibler fig‑coffee factory near the main railway station has caused outrage among the residents of the surrounding district. The noise produced by this machine throughout most of the day is extremely disturbing and diminishes the value of nearby dwellings. The once highly sought-after garden rooms in hotels on Bahnhofplatz are now scarcely rentable. Even worse than the noise, however, is the smoke and stench produced by the new machine…”

Aristocrats who had relied too long on inherited wealth were increasingly forced to sell their estates to the rising bourgeoisie. For example, Palais Sarnthein—originally built in 1689—was later used by a weapons manufacturer and merchant, Johann Peterlongo. Some members of the aristocracy adapted successfully, investing their resources in industrial ventures. The growing demand for labour was met by former farmhands and landless peasants. While wealthy entrepreneurs built villas in Wilten, Pradl, and Saggen, and middle-class employees occupied urban housing, workers were often accommodated in dormitories or mass housing. Twelve-hour shifts in cramped, noisy, and polluted conditions placed heavy demands on labourers. Child labour was not restricted until the 1840s, and women earned only a fraction of men’s wages. Workers were often dependent on company-owned housing and lacked legal protections. Social security systems did not yet exist; those unable to work depended on charitable support from their home communities. It should be noted that these harsh conditions were not entirely new but evolved from rural life, where inequality, child labour, and precarious work had been common.

However, industrialisation did not only affect everyday material life. Innsbruck experienced the kind of gentrification that can be observed today in trendy urban neighbourhoods such as Prenzlauer Berg in Berlin. The change from the rural life of the village to the city involved more than just a change of location. In one of his texts, the Innsbruck writer Josef Leitgeb tells us how people experienced the urbanisation of what was once a rural area: 

“…a great many strangers, poorly dressed, crowded into growing housing blocks, filling the streets morning, noon, and evening as they went to and from work… faces pale and prematurely aged, lacking individuality in posture, speech, and clothing—no longer individuals, but a uniform, endlessly repeatable urban working class… The railway station and the gasworks seemed to be the core of this new and profoundly alien landscape.”

After 1848, many Innsbruck residents experienced a process of “bourgeoisification.” Stories of upward mobility through diligence, talent, and opportunity became more common. Notable examples still in existence include the Tyrolean glass painting workshop, the Hörtnagl food business, and the Walde soap factory. Successful entrepreneurs came to occupy roles once held by the landed nobility, forming вместе with academics a new influential social class. Even workers experienced a degree of bourgeois emancipation. Unlike peasants bound to feudal lords, they now received wages instead of subsistence and gained some autonomy over their private lives. Together with the many academics, they formed a new social class that increasingly gained political influence. As early as 1851, Beda Weber remarked approvingly: “Their social circles are unforced; one already senses something distinctly metropolitan, something not easily found elsewhere in Tyrol.”

The workers also became bourgeois. While the landlord in the countryside was still master of the private lives of his farmhands and maidservants and was able to determine their lifestyle up to and including sexuality via the release for marriage, the labourers were now at least somewhat freer individually. They were poorly paid, but at least they now received their own wages instead of board and lodging and were able to organise their private affairs for themselves without the landlord's guardianship. 

However, the downside of this newly gained autonomy became particularly apparent in the early decades of industrialisation. There was little state infrastructure for healthcare or family support. Health insurance, pensions, retirement homes, and childcare facilities did not yet exist; previously, these functions had largely been fulfilled within extended rural families. In working-class districts, unsupervised children were a common sight during the day—especially the youngest, who were not yet subject to compulsory schooling. In response, a women’s association was founded in 1834 following an appeal by the Tyrolean provincial governor. It established childcare institutions in working-class districts such as St. Nikolaus, Dreiheiligen, and Angerzell (today’s Museumstraße). Their aim was not only to keep children off the streets and provide them with food and clothing, but also to instill manners, modest behaviour, and moral discipline. Under strict supervision, caretakers ensured “cleanliness, order, and obedience,” thereby providing at least a basic level of care. The former childcare institution in Paul‑Hofhaimer‑Gasse behind the Ferdinandeum still exists today. The neoclassical building now houses a Caritas integration kindergarten and a daycare center for employees of the State of Tyrol.

Innsbruck never became a traditional industrial working‑class city. Even so, a significant labour movement—such as that found in Vienna—never truly developed in Tyrol. While there were Social Democrats and a small number of Communists, the working class remained too small to exert substantial political influence. May Day marches, for example, are attended by many primarily for inexpensive food and free beer rather than political engagement. More broadly, there are few memorial sites dedicated to industrialisation and the achievements of the working class. Only in places such as St.-Nikolaus-Gasse or in some tenement buildings in Wilten and Pradl have structures survived that offer a glimpse into the everyday life of Innsbruck’s workers. 

The success story of the Innsbruck glass painters

The United States of America were regarded in the pre-war period as the land of unlimited opportunity, where dishwashers could become millionaires. Yet such success stories are not exclusive to the New World. In the not yet fully regulated society of the Danube Monarchy, capable and diligent individuals from farming backgrounds, the working class, or artisanal trades—often without formal education, certification, or state approval—could achieve remarkable upward mobility. The three founders of the Tyrolean Stained Glass and Mosaic Institute, Josef von Stadl, Georg Mader, and Albert Neuhauser, are exemplary of such a success story from Innsbruck’s urban history. While most Innsbruck industrial and craft enterprises focused on supplying the local market with solid, well‑established goods and consumer products, stained glass production stood out as one of the few innovative and export‑oriented industries of its time.

Each of the founders’ personal histories, their differing skills and life paths, is noteworthy. Josef von Stadl (1828–1893) grew up on his parents’ farm and inn in Steinach am Brenner. From an early age, he had to help in the family business. This heavy labour resulted in an inflammation of the periosteum in his arm at the age of nine, making physical work impossible thereafter. Instead, the artistically talented boy attended the model secondary school in Innsbruck, today’s BORG. In 1848, he joined the Tyrolean sharpshooters of his hometown, though he was not deployed at the front. He later gained practical experience as a locksmith and turner. In 1853, he contributed to rebuilding the church in Steinach after a fire. His skills were soon recognised, and he steadily rose from labourer to master builder. Georg Mader (1824–1881), also from Steinach, began working as a farmhand at a young age. Through the patronage of his brother, a clergyman, the devout youth was able to train as a painter, though he initially had to abandon his passion to assist in the family mill. After completing his journeyman travels, he decided to devote himself fully to painting. In Munich, he refined his skills with the firms Kaulbach and Schraudolph. After working on the cathedral in Speyer, he returned to Tyrol, where he supported himself mainly through commissions for ecclesiastical art. Albert Neuhauser (1832–1901) trained in his father’s glazing and sheet‑metal workshop. However, he too had to abandon his intended career path early due to health issues—lung problems that appeared when he was just ten years old. Instead of continuing in the successful family business, he travelled to Venice. The island of Murano had been home for centuries to the finest glassmaking workshops. Fascinated by this craft, he defied his father’s wishes and attended a stained glass workshop in Munich. The products of the recently established Bavarian factory, however, did not meet his quality standards. Back in his father’s apartment in Herzog‑Friedrich‑Strasse, he began experimenting with glass—much like the “garage innovators” who, a century later, would lay the foundations for the personal computer.

Neuhauser’s experiments and tinkering aroused the curiosity of his friend von Stadl, who in turn introduced him to the artistically inclined Mader. In 1861, the three decided to combine their expertise in a formal business venture—what today might be called a startup. Neuhauser took responsibility for technical and commercial aspects as well as product development, von Stadl handled decorative design and contacts with builders, and Mader focused on figurative design, particularly for ecclesiastical commissions. Their first workshop, staffed by two painters and a kiln operator, was located on the third floor of the Gasthof zur Rose in the Old Town. Raw materials had to be imported from England, as domestic glass did not meet Neuhauser’s standards, and imports were subject to a 25% tariff. Together with a chemistry teacher, Neuhauser eventually succeeded—after a trip to Birmingham and extensive experimentation—in producing glass of the desired quality himself.

In 1867, Josef von Stadl married the painter Maria Pfefferer, the daughter of a physician. The former farmer’s son from the Wipptal had not only risen into the upper bourgeoisie; his wife’s dowry also gave him financial independence. In 1869, supported financially by Neuhauser’s father, the partners decided to expand their successful enterprise. The dynamism and lack of regulation characteristic of the Gründerzeit boom is illustrated by the example of the glassworks established in the fields of Wilten, which went into operation in 1872. Production began just 110 days after construction—officially never approved by the municipal authorities of Wilten—had commenced. Due to health reasons, Neuhauser withdrew from the company as early as 1874, and although the founders handed over management of their flourishing business relatively soon, they remained shareholders. At the same time, each continued to work successfully on independent projects within their respective fields.

Von Stadl, in particular, left a lasting imprint on Innsbruck. At the height of its success, the stained glass workshop employed over 70 people. In 1878, according to von Stadl’s plans, housing was built for employees, workers, artists, and craftsmen associated with the company. This “Glassworks Settlement” included the buildings at Müllerstraße 39–57, Schöpfstraße 18–24, and Speckbacherstraße 14–16, which still exist today. Their architecture differs markedly from the surrounding Gründerzeit buildings: von Stadl used less ornamentation but placed emphasis on small front gardens. Workers and employees were meant to feel in no way inferior to the residents of the cottage‑style villas in Saggen. While it was not uncommon for large companies to build their own housing—Siemensstadt in Berlin being a well-known example—this development reflects a particular corporate self‑image and forward-looking vision: the company saw itself not only as an employer but also as a provider of housing and social support. Another major project by von Stadl in Innsbruck was the Provincial Maternity Clinic in Wilten. After completing the Vinzentinum in 1878, he was named an honorary citizen and diocesan architect of Brixen. Pope Leo XIII awarded him the Order of St. Gregory for his services. The St. Nikolaus Church—whose windows had been produced by the Tyrolean Glass Painting Institute—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 returned to Venice after resigning as director and went on to establish Austria’s first mosaic institute. The merger of the two companies in 1900 expanded the range of artistic possibilities. For his achievements, he was awarded the Order of Franz Joseph. In Wilten, Neuhauserstraße was named in his honour. Franz-Josephs-Orden. In Wilten wurde die Neuhauserstraße nach ihm benannt.