Behind the high walls surrounding the Hofgarten lies Innsbruck’s most carefully maintained oasis of tranquility. Walking paths lead through the inner-city garden past ancient trees and manicured lawns. Benches invite visitors to pause during errands or strolls. But the Hofgarten is not only a popular recreational area—it is also part of Innsbruck’s city history. Since the 15th century, landscape culture has been documented here. East of the racecourse stretched the sovereign’s racing meadows. The Maximilian Fishery Book of 1504 mentions a lake that the enthusiastic hunter and angler had created on his estates. The Hofgarten is thus one of the oldest documented garden complexes in Europe. While the Inn meadows under Maximilian were still mainly cultivated as hunting grounds, the art-loving sovereign Ferdinand II transformed the Hofgarten into a Renaissance garden—the Würtz and Lustgärten. The pheasant garden with its pheasant house was home not only to 3,000 of these birds, considered particularly noble, but also to “bears, lions, tigers, and guenons.” Exotic animals were the rule rather than the exception at princely courts of the time. Most of these unfortunate creatures changed hands as gifts among nobles and had to live behind bars as symbols of power and prestige. Ordinary Innsbruck residents had no access to these foreign animals, but the mere knowledge of their presence, their sounds, and smells must have been spectacular. On April 14, 1636, two of the sovereign’s lions met their end when their enclosure caught fire after an explosion at the nearby powder mill. The former inn “Löwenhaus” on the Inn still recalls its original purpose. Also consumed by flames that day was the sovereign’s summer residence “Ruhelust,” located in the Hofgarten. Although the Tyrolean Estates and the Chamber for Court Finances tried to force Regent Claudia de Medici to economize, she did not abandon her plan to build a new court building opposite the Hofburg. The Tyrolean sovereign commissioned Christoph Gumpp to design a new structure. Some of the statues originally intended for this building now adorn the Leopoldsbrunnen in front of the State Theater. In 1728, this palace too fell victim to flames.

The new era under Maria Theresa also brought changes to the Hofgarten’s design. Gothic Innsbruck was no longer a residential city, yet this administrative seat was to meet the demands of modern times. The garden received a Baroque makeover like the Hofburg opposite, though without grand and costly new constructions. The foundation for today’s Hofgarten was influenced by the rational frugality of the enlightened regent. Legend has it that some plants in the Hofgarten were planted by her own hands.

In the 19th century, Friedrich Ludwig Schell redesigned the Hofgarten in the style of an English garden, in keeping with Victorian fashion. Parks and gardens were springing up in many European cities at this time. At the same time, the garden began to open socially. Although there had been a tavern within the Hofgarten since the early 18th century, its clientele was mainly aristocrats. Before 1800, about 50% of Innsbruck’s residents belonged to the nobility, clergy, or their administration. Only 50 years later, this share had significantly declined thanks to the influx of workers and craftsmen with their families, who worked in factories on the city’s outskirts. Society after 1848 had changed—and with it, the rules by which it functioned—so that ordinary citizens could now spend their leisure time here.

The center of the garden has been the music pavilion of the former imperial garden house since 1773. Free concerts are still held here regularly. In the small pond in front of the pavilion resides the Frog King—at least as a stone statue. It was designed by South Tyrolean sculptor Alexander Lanner, who was also responsible for the “Meraner” in the South Tyrolean settlement Wilten West and the bust of Adolf Hitler in the Golden Roof’s wedding hall during the Nazi era. As with the Salige-Fräulein fountain in Rapoldipark, this artwork still lacks contextualization. The palm house on the northwest edge of the Hofgarten offers over 5,000 tropical plants. It can be seen as a continuation of Ferdinand II’s Würtz and Lustgärten and Innsbruck’s early spirit of research. Unfortunately, in true public-service fashion, it is only open on weekdays.

Even today, the Hofgarten continues to spark debate. After years of lawns being intended more for viewing than for walking on, the Hofgarten has recently opened up more to the needs of a modern public. With the fire that destroyed the old Hofgarten café, gastronomy was lost. Coordination between the Federal Gardens, to which the Hofgarten belongs, and the city often causes head-shaking among Innsbruck residents. The accusation that the Federal Gardens institution remains elitist in the Habsburg style and far removed from the public’s expectations of use is probably not entirely unfounded, given the poverty of events and usage opportunities in the Hofgarten.

The area between the Hofburg and the Hofgarten was already used for entertainment during the time of Emperor Maximilian. Competitions and tournaments of all kinds took place at the racecourse. Innsbruck’s Renaissance prince preferred less sporting but more culturally appealing activities. Under Ferdinand II, the first city theatre was built in 1581 according to plans by court architect Alberto Lucchese, called the Comedihaus. The name is misleading. The plays performed under Jesuit direction were usually lengthy dramas in Latin, based on biblical themes or, in true Renaissance spirit, on antiquity. Theatre was intended to prepare the audience for confessional resistance against the looming coarsening brought by Protestantism and to maintain morale in the fight against the Ottoman threat to the Habsburg realm. For Emperor Ferdinand’s wedding in 1622, a play was staged with the memorable title: “Action of Ovinio Gallicono, who once defeated the Scythians after first converting to Christianity and thus winning the hand of Constantine’s daughter.” Those who preferred secular entertainment were not left out: alongside plays, dressage riding and water shows were also possible. Not only classical culture but also the principle of “bread and circuses” enjoyed great popularity during the Renaissance.

In 1630, Prince Leopold V converted a ball house into a court theatre. He and his wife Claudia de Medici, educated contemporaries of the 17th century, valued art and culture. Their residence city was to be up to date. Until then, theatres were usually travelling institutions moving from town to town, or local universities and grammar schools organised performances. Now, a permanent team was to amuse, educate, and instruct the court as needed. The court theatre was one of the first permanent opera and theatre houses in the Holy Roman Empire. The Jesuits and their pupils still led the productions, but the highlights were the Innsbruck horse ballet and the ladies’ ballet, which the princely couple even exported as cultural showcases to the imperial court in Vienna. The lavish spectacle did not last long, as financial hardship after the Thirty Years’ War was too great. Innsbruck was a small town with about 5,000 inhabitants, most of whom were neither interested in Jesuit baroque performances nor could afford to attend. In 1653, the oversized city theatre moved to the site of today’s Tyrolean State Theatre, opposite the Hofgarten. Christoph Gumpp planned to convert one of the former ball game houses into a smaller but more modern Comedihaus in Venetian style with only 1,000 seats.

Im 18. Jahrhundert ging die Zeit der exklusiv höfischen Theaterkultur zu Ende. Mit der Verbürgerlichung der Gesellschaft nahm das Showbusiness eine öffentliche Rolle ein. In Innsbruck war die Hochkultur und deren Deutung immer von den Macht- und Herrschaftsverhältnissen geprägt. 1765 unter Maria Theresia wurde das „Hoftheater" and under their son Josef, a supporter of the modern nation state, it was renovated into the Nationaltheater. In 1805, under Bavarian foreign rule, it was the "Königlich-Bayrische Hof-Nationaltheater“. During the period of nationalisation following the collapse of the Holy Roman Empire, the Hoftheater zum austrianisierten Nationaltheater. Nach den napoleonischen Kriegen gierten die kunstsinnigen Bürger Innsbrucks nach Unterhaltung, wie sie international üblich war. Dafür musste das alte Nationaltheater modern aus- und umgebaut werden. Das Landestheater in seinem aktuellen Aussehen wurde im 19. Jahrhundert vom italienischen Architekten Giuseppe Segusini (1801 – 1876) geplant. Segusini kam im von Napoleon besetzten Norditalien zur Welt. Seine Ausbildung absolvierte er während der habsburgischen Herrschaft in Venedig an der Accademia di Belle Arti. 1840 legte er einen Plan zum Umbau des Innsbrucker Hoftheaters vor. Der klassizistische Bau entstand vier Jahre später vor einem ähnlichen gesellschaftlichen Hintergrund wie das Ferdinandeum, für dessen Neubau Segusini ebenfalls Pläne vorlegte, aber nicht zum Zug kam. Ein großer Teil der Kosten wurde ganz im Geist der Zeit vom eigens dafür gegründeten Theaterverein der Stadt übernommen. Die Neueröffnung in seinem jetzigen Aussehen erfolgte am 19. April 1846, dem Geburtstag Kaisers Ferdinand I., einem der Stadt Innsbruck besonders gewogenen Monarchen. Die Form des Gebäudes ähnelt einem römischen Triumphbogen. Der wuchtige Eingangsbereich über Treppen wird von mächtigen Säulen gestützt. Heute wirkt das altehrwürdige Landestheater neben dem wuchtigen und modernen House of Music beinahe etwas verloren. Im Nationalsozialismus wurde aus dem Nationaltheater das „Reichsgautheater“, der Platz davor erhielt den Namen Adolf Hitler Square. Nach dem Krieg wurde es zum Tiroler Landestheater.

The former ball house on the opposite side of the street, today’s Congress Centre, served as the court riding school during the years when Tyrol had a sovereign prince. In 1776, in the spirit of rationalisation, it became a customs house. The centralisation under Maria Theresa and Joseph II required new infrastructure to accommodate officials for taxation. The name Dogana, Italian for customs, derives from this use. In the 19th century, the former administrative building hosted fairs and exhibitions, such as the Tyrolean State Exhibition of 1893. During the first air raids on Innsbruck in 1944, the Dogana suffered considerable damage. Unlike destroyed houses and churches, the congress centre was not high on the list of system-relevant buildings. For 25 years, the remains of the Dogana decayed to the foundations before work began on the ruin in the city centre. According to plans by architect Hubert Prachensky, a cubic building in the Brutalist style was constructed between 1970 and 1973, almost simultaneously with the four Mariahilfpark residential blocks. Both inside and outside, the congress centre appears bulky and blocky, softened only by newer building sections. Modern artworks inside include pieces by Rudi Wach, who also created the crucifix on the Inn Bridge. Since 2007, the new valley station of the Hungerburgbahn has been located next to the congress centre. In the spirit of a modern gladiator fight, which could have taken place at the racecourse in Maximilian’s time, the finish area between the theatre and the congress centre hosted the biggest sporting event since the Olympic Games with the 2018 Cycling World Championships.

The Baroque Leopold Fountain in front of the Tyrolean State Theatre and the House of Music commemorates the Habsburg Leopold V. Greek gods and nymphs pose around the edge of the basin. Artemis, with her gesture, is particularly popular among tourists and locals as a photo buddy, appearing like the supposed inventor of the selfie. The Innsbruck court aimed to emulate the Italian princely courts that set the trends by adopting this reference to antiquity. Above all, Leopold towers, portrayed in the style of a Roman emperor as a victorious commander. The special feature of his equestrian statue is that the horse stands upright without “supporting” itself on its tail. A lead weight in the tail ensures that horse and rider do not topple over. At the time of its creation, this courbette was a sensation, as it was the only bronze sculpture of a rearing horse of this kind north of the Alps without any supporting aid.

When the Tyrolean sovereign died in 1632, the fountain was still unfinished. During his lifetime, the figures were placed along Rennweg in front of the Hofburg and in the princely court garden. It would take another 250 years for the final work to be completed. The occasion for finishing the fountain was the Tyrolean State Exhibition held in Innsbruck in June 1893. The installation and design of the fountain were entrusted to the skilled hands of Johann Deiniger and Heinrich Fuss, founders of the Imperial-Royal State Trade School, today’s HTL Anichstraße. About ten years earlier, their new educational institution had welcomed its first students. Strengthening local crafts and industry was the order of the day, and the new type of school and modern trade fair were intended to contribute to this goal. The state exhibition aimed not only to present “Tyrol with an image of its entire agricultural, industrial, technical, and artistic capabilities” but also to demonstrate the crown land’s loyalty to the monarchy. Leopold V was the ideal Habsburg for this occasion and the spirit of the turn of the century, which was architecturally shaped by neoclassicism. The ancient Greek world of gods combined with the powerful Habsburg prince was a perfect match to adorn the square in front of the theatre in a way that was both national-liberal and loyal to the emperor. The Renaissance-style artworks fit the year 1893 at least as well as they did the early modern period—at least from the perspective of Innsbruck’s educated bourgeoisie. Leopold was considered a liberal bon vivant who had renounced the clergy and bishopric to serve his homeland. The Innsbrucker Nachrichten described the opening with the following words:

"The actual opening ceremony began in the exhibition hall at 11am. A coat of arms - the Tyrolean eagle with the imperial motto "Viribus unitis" below it - adorned the pediment of the entrance. Palm trees and mighty bamboo sticks adorned the portal. The guests gathered in the centre of the hall by the Leopoldsbrunnen fountain in front of the magnificent imperial tent."

As is typical of monuments in public spaces to this day—especially when a political message resonates—the Leopold Fountain was also controversial. In the year of its installation, it was a hot political issue. The press even spoke of a “fountain war” surrounding the monument. In a carnival speech, the Leopold Fountain was mockingly referred to as a monumental stove. The uproar was not new. Nearly 100 years earlier, the figures of the fountain had almost met their end. When Andreas Hofer resided in Innsbruck as Tyrol’s commander in 1809, the overly revealing figures were a thorn in his side. The devout Catholic wanted to hide the bare-breasted nymphs and the polytheism of antiquity from the eyes of the hoped-for pious population. He planned to melt down the bronze statues to make cannon ammunition. Thanks to some Innsbruck citizens who hid the artworks, the Leopold Fountain still exists today. The “fountain war” continues to this day. More often than other artworks, the statues invite pranksters to decorate them with clothing and other adornments. In 2022, one of the nymphs was even unscrewed and stolen from the fountain. Although the originals had long been housed in the Ferdinandeum and it was only a copy, the disappearance of the statue became the talk of the town. After weeks of speculation about the crime, during which countless rumors about motives and perpetrators circulated, the figure reappeared on the bike path in the Olympic Village. Whether it was an imitator and admirer of moral guardian Andreas Hofer or just a “drunken escapade” will probably never be clarified.

Neben der Wiener Hofburg und Schloss Schönbrunn ist die Hofburg in Innsbruck eine von nur drei ehemaligen kaiserlichen Schlossanlagen Österreichs. Die Geschichte der Hofburg ist wie ein Spaziergang durch die Geschichte Innsbrucks und zählt zu den wichtigsten Sehenswürdigkeiten der Stadt. Der Tiroler Landesfürst Leopold IV. erwarb das Grundstück südlich der Pfarrkirche Ende des 14. Jahrhunderts. Als Friedrich IV. den Regierungssitz Tirols von Meran nach Innsbruck verlegte, residierte er im New yard, dem heutigen Goldenem Dachl. Erst sein Sohn Siegmund „der Münzreiche“ ließ an der Stadtmauer die Burg bauen, aus der sich die Hofburg entwickelte. Die Anlage war nicht so sehr Teil der höfischen Repräsentation, sie war ein Teil der Verteidigungsanlagen, die die Stadt umgaben. Maximilian I. verlagerte seine Residenz vom zu klein gewordenen New yard um 1490 in die Hofburg. In den folgenden Jahren ließ er die Anlage auf ihre heutige Größe von 5000 qm erweitern. Dafür musste der Friedhof der Pfarrkirche St. Jakob in der Altstadt weichen. 1497 wanderte die habsburgische Schatzkammer in die Hofburg. Innsbruck war damit zum wichtigen finanziellen Zentrum des Heiligen Römischen Reiches geworden. In dieser Zeit wuchsen der höfische Verwaltungsapparat und die Anzahl der Besucher, die Innsbruck empfing. Der Kaiser selbst war zwar nur selten zugegen, Maximilians zweite Ehefrau Bianca Maria Sforza verbrachte aber viel Zeit in Innsbruck. Sowohl Funktionalität wie auch Größe der höfischen Infrastruktur mussten der First Lady angepasst werden. Ein Aquarell Albrecht Dürers zeigt ein gotisches Ensemble aus Fachwerkhäusern, die sich um einen Innenhof gruppieren. Die Gemächer, die sogenannten „Frauenzimmer“ wurden in dieser Zeit gebaut. Vor der Burg, am heutigen Rennweg, fanden Turniere statt um den Angehörigen des Hofs Zerstreuung zu bieten. Auch Maximilians Enkel Kaiser Ferdinand I. nutzte Innsbruck als zeitweilige Residenz für sich und seine Familie. Unter seinem Sohn Ferdinand II. wurde die Hofburg und somit auch Innsbruck zu einem der wichtigsten Zentren höfischer Kultur der Renaissance des 16. Jahrhunderts nördlich der Alpen, auch wenn der Landesfürst selbst seine Zeit lieber im Schloss Ambras verbrachte. Ihr aktuelles Aussehen im Rokoko Stil verdankt die Innsbrucker Hofburg Maria Theresia. Obwohl sie nur zwei Mal selbst anwesend war, waren ihr die alten gotischen Gemäuer ein Gräuel. Die neue Architektur stammte von den Architekten Johann Martin Gumpp dem Jüngeren und Nicolaus von Pacassi. Aus der gotischen Burg wurde 1754 ein modernes, repräsentatives Schloss. Wie die Stadtmauern war auch sie im 18. Jahrhundert nutzlos geworden. Anstatt der Wehrtürme an den Ecken ragten nun schmucke Rondelle in den Himmel. Von der alten Burg blieb der gotische Keller am Nordende erhalten, der heute als stimmungsvoller Veranstaltungssaal genutzt wird. Den sehenswerten Innenhof besucht man am besten frühmorgens oder am Abend, wenn die Autos der Angestellten der Hofburg nicht mehr dort parken. Maria Theresia stiftete auch das Innsbrucker Damenstift auf der Südseite der Innsbrucker Hofburg. Ihr Ehemann Franz Stephan war in Innsbruck verstorben. 16 adelige Damen sollten in seinem Sterbezimmer, das zum Stift umfunktioniert wurde, für das Seelenheil des Kaisers beten. Auch die als Regentin der Aufklärung geltende Maria Theresia lebte noch im Bewusstsein, dass das Leben nach dem Tod wichtiger sei als das irdische. Die Leitung des Stiftes übernahm Maria Elisabeth, eine ihrer Töchter, die vom bösen Volksmund ob ihres Aussehens die kropferte Liesl getauft wurde. Der Statthalter Tirols Erzherzog Karl Ludwig ließ im 19. Jahrhundert die Innenräume für seine Schwägerin Elisabeth mit Rokokomöbeln von August La Vigne ausstatten und renovieren. Die Gattin Franz Josefs I. war mehrmals in Innsbruck zu Gast, ihre Schwester residierte im nahen Schloss Mentlberg. 1918 endete die Habsburgermonarchie, die Hofburg ging in den Besitz der jungen Republik über. Die Verwaltung erfolgt durch die dafür extra gegründete Burghauptmannschaft.  Ein Teil der Hofburg kann besichtigt werden. Die Highlights sind die Säle Kaiserin Maria Theresias und das Kaiserin-Elisabeth-Appartement von Sissi sowie der Riesensaal mit Bildern der Familie Maria Theresias. Auch Andreas Hofer wurde ein Saal gewidmet. Der Tiroler Aufständische residierte 1809 für etwa zwei Monate in der Hofburg. Ein Bild Franz Defreggers, das über 70 Jahre später für eine Zeitschrift angefertigt wurde, zeigt den Schützenhauptmann in Tiroler Lederhose, wie er eine kaiserliche Abordnung im Prunksaal der Residenz der Tiroler Landesfürsten empfängt. An der Ostseite der Hofburg prangt trotz der Habsburgergesetze nach 1918 noch immer der kaiserliche doppelköpfige Adler auf der blütenweißen Fassade. Auch das Damenstift besteht bis heute. Es wird wohl noch immer fleißig gebetet für das Seelenheil Kaisers Franz Stephan.

The Innsbruck Court Church is one of the few places of worship that survived the fury of Baroque urban renewal in the 17th and 18th centuries. The Gothic building retains the form and features of late Innsbruck Renaissance architecture. Its entrance is modest, with columns and unobtrusive ornaments adorning the portal beneath the vault. The plain façade almost disappears next to the opulent Hofburg. Yet, despite its humble appearance, the church ranks among the city’s most famous sights. Originally planned as Maximilian’s final resting place, it is the largest imperial tomb in Western Europe. In the 19th century, it was considered the most important—by some spiteful travellers even the only—attraction in Innsbruck, as a travel report from 1846 states:

“The greatest artistic interest is aroused by the Court or Franciscan Church, actually the Holy Cross Church, which is more a museum of bronze sculpture than a church. In the nave stands Emperor Maximilian’s tomb, enclosed by a clumsy iron grille. On the lid of the sarcophagus, the Emperor is shown life-size, kneeling with hands folded in prayer. This bronze casting was made by the Sicilian Ludwig del Duca, and the statuettes at the four corners of the lid represent the virtues of justice, prudence, strength, and temperance… The sides of the sarcophagus, divided into 24 panels, contain on as many marble tablets the most remarkable deeds of war and peace of this ruler in exquisite workmanship.”

Indeed, no building reflects Maximilian I’s view of himself and his world as vividly as the Innsbruck Court Church. The “last knight and first gunner” placed his public persona at the centre of a long ancestral line reaching back to the legendary King Arthur of England. The imperial genealogist even traced the Habsburg lineage to the biblical patriarch Noah and Hector, prince of ancient Troy. Larger-than-life bronze figures of these forebears were intended to guard the Emperor’s eternal rest. Of the planned 40 “Black Men” (Schwarze Mander)—not all of them male—only 28 were ultimately realised to form a worthy honour guard. At the centre of the ensemble kneels Maximilian himself. Albrecht Dürer (1471–1528) was involved in designing the cenotaph that dominates the church. Dürer, a pioneer of early modern artistic capitalism, was already a celebrity in his lifetime thanks to his widely distributed engravings. Maximilian eagerly promoted the enterprising Nuremberger, who, like the Emperor, sought visibility among the broadest possible public. The tomb portrays Maximilian in death as he wished to be seen in life: a symbol of virtue and piety. The oratory on the sarcophagus by Hans Waldner exemplifies the highly developed Renaissance woodworking art of the German-speaking world. The reliefs on the sides mark key stages in Maximilian’s life, each a small masterpiece. Beginning with his marriage to Mary of Burgundy and continuing through various military exploits, the 24 panels depict the glorious deeds of the vain Habsburg.

The Emperor did not live to see his tomb completed. In 1519, near the end of his life, legend has it that Innsbruck’s innkeepers presented him with the debts his court had accumulated over the years. Outraged by this presumption, Maximilian turned his back on “his” Innsbruck and set out for his ancestral castle in Wiener Neustadt, his alternative resting place. He died en route. As self-centred as Maximilian was in life and in self-representation, he wished to take his last journey humbly. He reportedly ordered that after the last rites he should no longer be addressed by his titles, that his teeth be pulled, his skull shaved, and his body sewn into a shroud so that he might appear before the Lord as a poor penitent. For him, faith was an instrument to establish order and legitimise power. Yet he was no cynic; like most of his peers on Europe’s thrones, he was genuinely devout. Faith only works if one truly believes—buildings like the Court Church still demonstrate this impressively today. Because the figures for his substitute tomb in Wiener Neustadt were too heavy, Maximilian’s grandson Emperor Ferdinand I decided decades later to erect the monument in Innsbruck without the remains. The bronze figures had already been cast at the foundry in Mühlau, opened in 1511. Construction of the church was completed in 1563 after ten years. Maximilian’s body was never moved; he remained buried in Wiener Neustadt. His heart, as was customary for monarchs, was interred separately with his first wife Mary of Burgundy in Bruges. Even without the body in the splendid sarcophagus, the “Black Men’s Church” remains an impressive coup by PR genius Maximilian.

What the Emperor failed to achieve was accomplished by Tyrolean resistance fighter Andreas Hofer. His remains lie in an honorary grave in the Court Church, though the journey was long. Hofer was executed in Mantua in 1810 and buried there. Thirteen years later, an unofficial delegation of Tyrolean marksmen set out to exhume his body and bring it to Innsbruck. After initial resistance from the state under Metternich, he was eventually interred in the Court Church. The marble monument shows Hofer in Tyrolean costume with a flag, swearing loyalty “For God, Emperor and Fatherland,” in line with Habsburg ideals. In addition to the bronze figures and tombs, the church houses a still playable Renaissance organ. Instruments in churches today serve mainly for concerts and seem hardly spectacular in the 21st century. Until the 20th century, attending Mass was for many people the only way to experience music at all—a highlight of the weekly routine. At a concert, one can still be captivated by its room-filling sound.

The adjoining Silver Chapel also boasts a remarkable organ. This devotional space offered Archduke Ferdinand II peace and seclusion—perhaps to seek absolution for his wild revelries during legendary festivities at Ambras Castle. The chapel takes its name from the lavishly decorated reliefs adorning the altar of ivory, ebony, and silver. Court architect Giovanni Lucchese and Dutch sculptor Alexander Colin, who also worked on the Black Men below, created this Gothic gem in the spirit of Renaissance ideals. Ferdinand, like Maximilian, wished to be portrayed on his tomb as a worldly ruler who was at once powerful, pious, and humble. Beside him rest his first wife Philippine Welser and their children beneath the Gothic vault.

Those wishing to learn more about Tyrolean culture and everyday life in past centuries—and the history of the Court Church—will find the Folk Art Museum well worth a visit. After the collapse of the monarchy and the founding of the republic, many cities established museums to anchor the grand narrative of Austria and its provinces intellectually, culturally, and historically. Since 1929, the former Franciscan monastery, redesigned by Andrea Crivelli and Niclas Türing, has housed the Tyrolean Folk Art Museum. It displays farmhouse parlours, furniture, clothing, cribs, masks, and other objects illustrating Tyrolean traditions since the Middle Ages. Particularly popular is the annual Christmas crib exhibition, which relocates the birth of the Saviour to the Holy Land of Tyrol.

A large area between Sillgasse, Angerzellgasse, and Universitätsstraße is occupied by the building complex consisting of the Faculty of Theology, the Academic Gymnasium, the Palais Pfeifersberg, and the Trinity Church. These buildings still belong to the Jesuits. This order, through its influence at the Habsburg court, shaped society and politics for centuries and was crucial for Innsbruck’s development as a university city. In 1562, the Jesuits moved into the Salvator Chapel to begin teaching at the college. The chapel was part of the Hof- und Kaiserspital founded by Maximilian in 1499 for the poorest segments of the population who could not find space in the city hospital in Neustadt. At Universitätsstraße 4, the year of the college’s founding is still carved in stone within the Austrian coat of arms. Just a few years later, Ferdinand II expanded the small chapel to provide the Jesuits with a more fitting headquarters. His successor, Maximilian III, had the school building constructed. Where eager gymnasium students once came daily under the care of Jesuit fathers for intellectual and spiritual education, today stands the entrance to the university’s theology library. Above the portal, the coats of arms of Tyrol and the double-headed eagle of the Habsburg monarchy are carved in stone beneath the Jesuit emblem, symbolizing the bond between authority and order.

A few months after Maximilian’s death, construction began on the actual Jesuit church at its current location. Laying the foundation stone was one of the first official acts of the new governor and later ruler Leopold V during his first Landtag in Innsbruck. But the new church was ill-fated: after only a few years, it collapsed. Between 1627 and 1633, it was rebuilt with twin towers and a dome despite financial hardship caused by the Thirty Years’ War. Special emphasis was placed on architectural similarity to the Jesuits’ mother church, Il Gesù in Rome. Empty coffers, however, allowed only wooden towers and a sparse interior. The interior was lavishly expanded in the Baroque style in the 18th century. In 1901, a private citizen, Johann von Sieberer, replaced the wooden towers with stone ones.

The underground crypt, freely accessible, is particularly worth seeing. Here lie the tombs of Leopold V and his wife Claudia de Medici. The two rulers, along with their children, are interred in an elaborate monument designed by Christoph Gumpp. The pompous Castrum Doloris—the mourning structure used during Claudia de Medici’s funeral according to Florentine tradition—has unfortunately not survived. The Medici coat of arms on the right entrance portal recalls the origins of the princess. The influential theologian Karl Rahner, after whom the square in front of the church is named, also found his final resting place here.

For a long time, the Jesuit church was the center of spiritual university life, inseparable from academic life. From 1720 onward, university services were held exclusively in the Jesuit church. This privilege repeatedly caused disputes between the diocese and the Jesuits. Students and professors had to swear the Tridentine Profession of Faith before the university chancellor, the bishop’s representative. In this profession, established by Pope Pius after the Council of Trent in 1564, students affirmed their adherence to the Catholic faith. On December 8, all university members had to annually profess belief in the Immaculate Conception of Mary. The refusal of this oath by a handful of Freemasons among the professors at the end of the 18th century caused a major scandal and marked part of the Jesuit-free period in Austrian history. During the brief and mild Enlightenment phase in Innsbruck, the “soldiers of Christ” faced unpleasant times. Under Joseph II, the Jesuits were banned in the Habsburg Empire for a short time, and the Pope suppressed the overly powerful order. This shook Innsbruck’s educational structure considerably. Jesuit property, including the college and university, was broken up. The college fell to the University of Innsbruck, and the Jesuit-run gymnasium had to give up rooms for the library. In 1868, teachers and students moved into the Franciscan monastery next to the Court Church. However, the old building was unsuitable for modern teaching requirements: poor air, little light, sanitary deficiencies, and infrastructural shortcomings did not meet the rising expectations of the bourgeois upper class. Nevertheless, it was not until 1910 that the gymnasium moved into a new building at its current location.

During the conservative restoration under Franz I and Clemens von Metternich, the Jesuits acquired the Palais Pfeifersberg on today’s Sillgasse. The former manor house had been given its present Baroque appearance in 1723 based on plans by Georg Anton Gumpp. Between the Palais and the church lies the Jesuit college with the Ignatius Chapel and the Nikolaihaus. The modern façade above the Baroque portal of the long building was added in 1914. Part of this wing serves as a student residence for theology students. The Jesuit youth center, MK, is located at Sillgasse 8. This entire complex in such an exclusive location in the heart of the city demonstrates both the wealth and the influence that the Church still quietly holds in Austria today.

After the turbulent period of the French Revolution and the subsequent Napoleonic Wars (1792–1815), the bourgeoisie gradually gained greater economic and social significance. Under State Chancellor Clemens Metternich, politics was marked by harsh winds of strict censorship and a police state. At the same time, science and culture flourished in private life. Associations of all kinds were fashionable during the Biedermeier era, including in Innsbruck. The founding of the Tyrolean National Museum Association dates back to this time. Here, something previously unthinkable occurred: members of the aristocracy and the new bourgeois elites came together to pursue shared leisure activities and interests. Around 400 citizens of Innsbruck joined forces to collect donations. Looking at the membership lists of the 19th century, one finds high aristocracy such as the Prince-Bishop of Salzburg alongside Dominikus Zambra, founder of Innsbruck’s first department store. The museum’s purpose was to promote education in science and art. In 1823, a public appeal was issued:

“…to the friends of patriotic art and science for the founding of an association of the patriotic museum in Tyrol… whose aim is the education of the nation in general and in particular, awakening and enlivening the common interest for the common fatherland.”

The museum’s name goes back to the later Emperor of Austria, Archduke Ferdinand, who assumed patronage for the Tyrolean National Museum. Together with Archduke Johann—who, alongside his military career, was an enthusiastic supporter of modern natural sciences—he was involved in the museum’s founding. The two Habsburgs shared not only a love of art and culture but also an affinity for Tyrol. Archduke Johann was a passionate supporter of the Tyrolean struggle for freedom and the Tyrolean riflemen under Andreas Hofer, against the will of Viennese politics. While Johann became known as an alpinist, military leader, and energetic politician and doer, Ferdinand was the exact opposite. In 1848, he fled the turmoil of the revolution to Innsbruck’s Hofburg—a loyal, conservative, and safe haven amid revolutionary unrest. He was considered weak, bordering on feeble-minded, and likely afflicted with dwarfism and deformities due to the Habsburgs’ incestuous marriage policies. Ferdinand had been Metternich’s preferred choice as successor to Franz I, as the chancellor favored a weak monarch to maintain his own power. Ferdinand was a gentle and simple soul, popularly known as Ferdinand the Kind. Malicious tongues, however, dubbed him “Ferdinand the Finished.”

Until 1845, the collection of items “interesting and remarkable for the land of Tyrol in terms of natural history, art, and history” had to be stored at Wilten Abbey. Then, the first museum building was constructed—a modest and unadorned structure in the newly laid-out Neugasse, among plain residential projects. The two neo-Gothic column-shaped fountains already flanked the first Ferdinandeum back then. It was not until 1884 that the major expansion and renovation of the museum took place, including the unveiling of the new façade designed by Natale Tommasi. A hall on the first floor was arranged as a “reliquary of the Tyrolean nation,” featuring various memorabilia of the popular uprising of 1809 and a life-sized statue of Andreas Hofer. Other memorials of Tyrolean history, such as the Battle of Spinges, were also immortalized in the Ferdinandeum. The traditional interior contrasted with the classical exterior. Two sphinxes—hardly native-looking mythical creatures—flank the entrance. The façade displays portraits of famous Tyrolean artists and scientists. At its center stands Tyrolia, a mythical symbol of the “Tyrolean nation,” modestly accompanied by Minerva, the ancient goddess of wisdom. Since the remains of temples excavated at that time were white, buildings imitating antiquity, such as the Ferdinandeum, were also kept white. A similarly designed building in Innsbruck is the Tyrolean State Theater, just a few steps from the Ferdinandeum. The museum’s opening was not only an architectural triumph of the bourgeoisie. Unlike aristocratic collections, the Ferdinandeum was accessible to the public. Newspapers proudly reported on the extensive collection:

"The Ferdinandeum's book collection contains around 1,400 works relating to regional studies... It can be used by anyone... A visit to this institution certainly provides pleasure for locals and foreigners alike, and creates the conviction that there is no lack of sense and endeavour for art and science in Tyrol."

Today, the Ferdinandeum houses a colourful selection of collections, including paintings by well-known Tyrolean artists such as Albin Egger-Lienz. Special exhibitions of all kinds are organised on a regular basis.

Together with the Tyrolean State Theatre and the Ferdinandeum State Museum, the Tyrolean State Conservatory is the third landmark of bourgeois emancipation in Innsbruck. Although construction of the now somewhat hidden building did not begin until 1910, its architecture and history are characteristic of the 19th century. Eduard Klingler designed the compact neo-Baroque structure in a style typical of the late monarchy. Like many buildings, the foundation of the conservatory is made of Höttinger Breccia. A balcony crowns the classical columns at the entrance. The central part of the façade features richly decorated window arches with small capitals in the popular antique style of the time. Proper accommodation for Innsbruck’s musical elite was long overdue. When Klingler’s building was completed shortly before the outbreak of World War I, the Music Society was already nearly 100 years old. In 1816, Johann Herzog, Franz Craffonara, and Benedictine Father Martin Goller founded the Academic Music Society. A year later, they applied to the Imperial-Royal Provincial Government for permission to establish a music association. Not only were associations generally suspected of subversive tendencies, but the bureaucratic wheels of the Police Court Office in Vienna turned slowly—the review and official approval for founding the registered association took more than a year before the Innsbruck Music Society could officially be inaugurated in July 1818.

It wasn’t just the founding of the association that was controversial; music itself carried a certain stigma. The new generation of artists was considered difficult and rebellious. For centuries, aristocracy and the Church held a monopoly on music. In Innsbruck, the Jesuit order was responsible for selecting and producing religious pieces, which could only be performed with the approval of the provincial rulers. Outside of churches, refined musical enjoyment was reserved for aristocratic patrons who maintained court musicians. This began to change with Mozart—and even more so with Beethoven—who saw themselves as free-spirited entrepreneurs rather than submissive court artists. The social transformation and increasing professionalization of the music business exemplified how the new bourgeois elites appropriated and adopted aristocratic traditions. The Innsbruck Music Society aimed to ensure musical quality in the city through proper education. Lessons began in November 1818 in the former Jesuit Lyceum. In addition to music, declamation—“speech, gestures, and facial expression”—was taught. This subject was heavily censored and closely monitored by the authorities before being completely banned for several decades in 1827.

After ten years, the association had over 100 members, consisting of financially supportive honorary members and active musicians. The society was divided into an educational institution and a “Society for the Promotion of Means of Pleasure.” Sons of members had priority for the limited spots, while women were not allowed to enroll in the early years. Except for impoverished theology students, who received free lessons, tuition fees applied. Supporting members financed instruments and performances. At least four public productions were to be held annually. The Music Society also provided church music in the Jesuit church and organized benefit concerts for the poor fund with the conservative Casino Society. Musicians also enlivened official events and receptions. Thus, the bourgeoisie, Church, monarchy, and army came together in shaping the city’s musical life. One of the first members alongside Goller and Craffonara—and the first conductor—was Lieutenant Johann Gänsbacher (1778–1844). He rose socially through a military career. The son of a schoolmaster from Sterzing, he was sent early by his father to train in the choir of St. Jakob parish in Innsbruck. From 1797, he fought in the Coalition Wars before being stationed in Innsbruck as an Imperial Rifleman. In 1822, Gänsbacher composed the Alexander March to honor the visit of Tsar Alexander, Emperor Franz, and Clemens von Metternich in Innsbruck. Unable to secure a permanent position in Innsbruck, he moved to Vienna as cathedral music director of St. Stephen’s.

Under one of its most prominent and influential directors, Josef Pembaur (1848–1923), the Music Society relocated to its current site in Angerzell. Growing membership and rising demands for modern instruction required several moves before the city decided in 1906 to grant the society land behind the Ferdinandeum for its own home. In 1912, the small neo-classical palace next to the State Museum was finally inaugurated.

Even after the end of the monarchy, music remained in conservative hands. Following the rise to power of the Christian Social Party under Chancellor Engelbert Dollfuß and the accompanying changes in Austria’s education and cultural policies, the now well-established institution gained new prestige. In “recognition of more than a hundred years of successful activity as Tyrol’s first music teaching institute,” it was allowed in 1934 to call itself a conservatory, in line with Austria’s identity politics of the time. The National Socialists dissolved the association and continued the training facility as the “Music School of the Gau Capital Innsbruck.” In 1987, the conservatory and music school were separated, with the latter moving to the Ursuline School building. Today, future musicians, conductors, and classical singers study at the “Kons” in various disciplines. The Innsbruck Symphony Orchestra also emerged from the Music Society. Two former members, Josef Gänsbacher and Josef Pembaur, have streets in Innsbruck named after them.

The building that houses the Tyrolean Chamber of Commerce is an impressive mix of architectural styles. Adorned with bay windows and turrets, it resembles a small palace. Designed by the Munich architectural firm Ludwig Lutz, it is an example of Historicism and Heimatstil, the two dominant styles of the era. The uppermost bay window features a small imitation of the Golden Roof (Goldenes Dachl), symbolizing the Chamber’s connection to Tyrolean tradition. The Art Nouveau mosaic façade depicts various branches of the economy as figures reaching out to each other above the windows. It was created by Schwaz-born artist Alfons Siber (1860–1919), who trained at the Tyrolean Glass Painting and Mosaic Institute, under the title Allegory of Trade and Industry. Siber was a financially successful painter who, like many of his contemporaries, adhered to the pan-German ideology. Many of his works were inspired by Germanic mythology. The largely liberal founders of the Tyrolean Chamber of Trade and Industry, many of whom also belonged to the pan-German party, were not bothered by this—quite the opposite. By sheer luck, the remarkable façade survived. While the rest of Meinhardstraße fell victim to World War II bombings, the Chamber remained unscathed. In 2014, a connecting wing was built to link the old part of the building with the new section on Wilhelm-Greil-Straße.

The Chamber for Trade and Industry, the predecessor of today’s Chamber of Commerce, was founded in Tyrol as early as 1851. After the social upheavals of 1848, society had to adapt to change. The influence of bourgeois entrepreneurs was still not equal to that of the nobility, even though their actual impact on economy and society was steadily increasing. This is evident from the number of businesses: the number of trading companies in Innsbruck grew from just over 80 in 1810 to more than 1,500 less than a century later. The number of inns, hotels, and industrial enterprises also rose. Many businesses emerged in the suburbs of the city, such as the Rauchmühle in Mühlau, the Epp soap factory, the Herrburger & Rhomberg spinning mill, and the Köllensperger locksmith shop. The new Trade Act of 1859 turned economic conditions—and thus everyday life—upside down. Until then, most trades were strictly regulated. The new law made it possible to start a business almost without restrictions. Company formations skyrocketed. Previously, guilds, alongside the state and church institutions, had also provided social support for their members; this responsibility shifted to the municipality. Guilds were replaced by associations and cooperatives, which meant the loss of the protection they had offered. Trade freedom was introduced, which, ten years after the economic crisis of 1873, was regulated through qualification certificates and master exams. The founding of the Commercial Academy and the Imperial-Royal State Trade School (k.k. Staatsgewerbeschule), today’s HTL, also dates back to this economically liberal and dynamic era of the late monarchy. The first director of the State Trade School, Johann Deininger, was one of the co-founders of the Tyrolean Trade Association. In 1901, the Trade Promotion Institute (Gewerbeförderungs-Institut), a predecessor of WIFI, was established to offer courses for craftsmen and the self-employed. Austria’s system of economic promotion, adult education, and the chamber-based structure originated from these 19th-century developments.

Since its founding, Innsbruck has been more of an administrative and university city than an industrial hub. Unlike cities in Upper Austria or Styria, Innsbruck still has hardly any major industrial enterprises. Trade, crafts, and tourism businesses are mostly small-scale. With the university, hospital, the Tyrolean government, and the city administration, Innsbruck’s largest employer is the public sector. On a statewide level, however, industry remains the most important employer, ahead of tourism. The Chamber of Commerce, as the representative of the self-employed and entrepreneurs, plays a key role in Austrian politics. In addition to wage negotiations, its responsibilities include training, qualification exams, industry representation, and approvals.

"Even if harsh criticism may criticise some aspects of the statue, the whole must be described as highly successful and makes a beautiful, satisfying impression."

On September 29, 1877, the day of the unveiling of the Rudolfsbrunnen, the editorial team of the Innsbrucker Tagblatt seemed fairly pleased with the result of the city’s newest attraction. The small park was surrounded by Gründerzeit houses like a little inner-city oasis and appeared contemporary and modern. The 12-meter-high figure on the fountain represents Duke Rudolf IV. The lower basin is flanked by griffins bearing coats of arms with the Tyrolean eagle and the imperial double-headed eagle. Friedrich Schmidt was commissioned for the design. The later cathedral master builder of Vienna would become one of the most important architects of the Neo-Gothic style in the Austro-Hungarian monarchy. Between Bolzano, Bohemia, and Ruthenia, he realized many striking buildings, including the reconstruction of the south tower of St. Stephen’s Cathedral and St. Nicholas Church in Innsbruck. He is not only an honorary citizen of Innsbruck but also has a magnificent honorary grave at Vienna’s Central Cemetery. After World War II, the fountain, damaged in an air raid, was renovated under Franz Baumann.

However, the design of the square had been preceded by heated debates between liberal and conservative politicians and newspapers. Construction of the fountain began in 1863 to mark 500 years of Tyrol’s affiliation with the Habsburg Empire. The question was: How should Tyrol position itself within Habsburg politics? The namesake first Tyrolean sovereign from the ruling dynasty was an ambivalent figure. Thanks to a presumably forged inheritance contract, the County of Tyrol became part of the Habsburg Empire. Historians gave Rudolf IV the epithet “The Founder” because of his contributions to Vienna, today’s Austrian capital. At the time of his reign, the center of the Holy Roman Empire was in Prague. With the founding of the University of Vienna and St. Stephen’s Cathedral as a metropolitan chapter and burial site for the Habsburgs under Rudolf, the first step toward Vienna becoming the new center of the Holy Roman Empire was taken. Rudolf’s most sensational coup came in 1358: the Privilegium maius, a document granting the House of Habsburg numerous special rights over all other German princes, was also a forgery. Even Emperor Charles IV, a bitter opponent of the Habsburgs, was convinced the collection of documents was fake. The great scholar Francesco Petrarch likewise concluded that the Privilegium maius could not be genuine. Nevertheless, the special rights of archducal status, hereditary succession, and independent jurisdiction in their territories were granted to the Austrians. Anyone standing before the Rudolfsbrunnen at Boznerplatz today should not forget that the man honored with a fountain was not only a pious founder but above all a gifted fraudster.

Fraud or not, the unity of Austria and Tyrol was a reason to celebrate. The 19th century was the great age of nationalism. Across Europe, traditions and commonalities were sought to give people a sense of national identity. Buildings, literature, and monuments were intended to strengthen the sense of belonging to the Habsburg Empire and national pride among the population. The fountain was a manifestation of the unity and affiliation of the crown land Tyrol with the Habsburg monarchy. Depending on political stance and perspective, different ideas of national thought emerged. The German-national liberal politicians of the city were keen to emphasize the unity of Tyrol and Austria. They saw Innsbruck as part of a strong Habsburg Empire under German dominance over the other peoples of the multiethnic state. The conservative version of Tyrolean identity was oriented toward a Catholic, Tyrolean-national identity, complete with the Sacred Heart cult, which found its monument in the Andreas Hofer memorial at Bergisel. While liberal Crown Prince Rudolf attended the unveiling of the Rudolfsbrunnen, conservative Franz Joseph I was present at the inauguration of the Bergisel monument.

Nearly 150 years after its construction, Boznerplatz was once again the focus of lively debate in the city council. Looking at old pictures, one sees an attractive inner-city square. In reality, it had long been bleak. Boznerplatz was choked by traffic and hardly invited people to linger. Opinions differed on whether and how the square around the Rudolfsbrunnen should be transformed from a traffic hub back into a pedestrian-friendly zone. The discussions no longer revolved around Tyrolean identity; climate and mobility brought Boznerplatz into the spotlight of a modern cultural struggle. After a long battle, proponents of the traffic-calmed solution prevailed. Thirty-one trees were planted, and the square was visually expanded through redesign. Boznerplatz was liberated from the car-centered traffic concept of the 1970s and now forms a successful, modern link between the city center and the train station.

The Tyrolean Landhaus and Eduard-Wallnöfer-Platz, along with the associated “French Monument,” are considered by many Innsbruck residents to be the city’s greatest architectural blunder. It wasn’t always seen that way. The probably ugliest chapter of European history laid the foundation for the unpleasant appearance of this inner-city square. Anyone comparing photos of Landhausplatz before and after 1938 would hardly recognize it. Few places in Innsbruck have changed so drastically. Photos from before the Nazi building frenzy show lots of greenery, tall trees, and individual buildings such as Heinrich Menardi’s carriage rental and car hire. On the north side of the square, the courtyard of the Fugger-Taxis Palace extended to Wilhelm-Greil-Straße. The Fuggerhaus housed the secondary school and the business academy. When construction of the Reich Governor’s Office under Gauleiter Franz Hofer began in 1938, school buildings and the southeastern part of the palace were demolished, and the square was completely redesigned and leveled. The new building adjoined the Old Landhaus to symbolize a transition between old and new centers of power. The buildings between today’s Landhaus and Bismarckplatz, where Lois Welzenbacher’s futuristic high-rise towered above everything, were to make way for a large area for political parades. The open space was intended to be adorned with monuments and columns commemorating Tyroleans who had fallen for National Socialism. The Gauhaus and the square were to become a symbol of the new ideology—a kind of church for faith in the Führer and the liberation of the German people. In reality, only the northern part of Landhausplatz with the Gauhaus was redesigned during the war years. The poorly managed construction phase, personally overseen by Hofer, was plagued by delays and problems due to the war and the simultaneous building of housing blocks for South Tyrolean resettlers. What remains of the grandiose plans is a drab functional building that even Berlin was not entirely happy with at the time. The tender for the new government building was won by architects Walter and Ewald Guth. The façade, seen from the front, was intended to resemble an eagle about to take flight. As with many buildings of the Nazi regime, the Gauhaus combined neoclassicism and modernism. The columns at the entrance stylistically counter the smooth surfaces and symmetrical forms.

No interrogations or mistreatment took place in the Reich Governor’s Office; that was the responsibility of the Gestapo headquarters in Innsbruck, located on Herrengasse. In what is now the Tyrolean Landhaus, crimes were planned and laws and orders from Berlin were implemented. Some rooms in the Landhaus still bear symbols of the Nazi era. How to deal with these silent witnesses of National Socialism remains the subject of lively debate. Gauleiter Franz Hofer’s office long served as the meeting room of the Tyrolean provincial government.

The southern part of Landhausplatz was only designed after 1945. Buildings such as Ansitz Haidenburg had been destroyed during air raids, leaving the square open for new development. Eduard-Wallnöfer-Platz is dominated by the Liberation Monument, commissioned by the French occupation in 1946 to give the ideologically burdened site a new visual orientation. Whereas in 1938 a monument was planned for those who fell for National Socialism, just seven years later the aim was to commemorate resistance fighters as well as fallen soldiers. The monument was intended as a modern version of the nearby Triumphal Arch. With the inscription “Freedom of Austria’s Dead” (Pro Libertate Austriae Mortuis), the structure honors those who died for Austria’s liberation on both sides. Commander-in-Chief General Emile Bethouart refrained from using the French language, thus graciously downplaying the Allies’ role in Austria’s liberation in favor of the Austrian resistance. The population found it hard to accept a liberation monument imposed by the occupying power, especially amid the housing shortage that persisted after the air raids. To avoid fueling public resentment in the early postwar years, the French also refrained from holding a formal inauguration. Although the grille displays the coats of arms of Austria’s new federal states, the monument bears undeniable similarities to various fascist memorials—not least because of its neoclassical style and the enthroned eagle with laurel wreath designed by Emmerich Kerle. The construction of the “French Monument,” as Innsbruck residents called it, was largely carried out by prisoners of war provided to the contractor Mayreder, Kraus & Co. In addition to labor shortages, the required raw materials posed problems in the austere postwar period.

For decades, the entire square led a dreary existence without seating. For a long time, Landhausplatz served as a parking lot amid increasing inner-city traffic. Gradually, it shed its postwar gloom. A discreet memorial at the southern end of Landhausplatz commemorates the Jewish victims of the Kristallnacht pogrom of 1938. The menorah was consecrated in June 1997 by Chief Rabbi Chaim Eisenberg of the Jewish Community for Tyrol and Vorarlberg.

Today, anyone crossing Landhausplatz finds what seems like a well-designed, lively inner-city fun park for skaters and BMX riders. Its current appearance dates from 2011, after the LAAC architectural firm won a 2008 competition to redesign the square. In the first years after its opening, cycling and skating on the austere Landhausplatz with its inviting concrete waves were strictly prohibited, following heated disputes between the provincial government and skateboarders that had already flared up in the 1990s. Young people, however, were undeterred and stubbornly claimed the square in front of the Tyrolean provincial government for themselves. Recently, this colorful youth activity has been brought to an inglorious end by restrictive measures.

In 1911, after years of negotiations, the city under Mayor Wilhelm Greil purchased the so-called Zelger grounds near the Triumphal Arch from the heirs of Innsbruck entrepreneur Karl Zelger. The Zelger family had amassed a considerable fortune in the fashion and textile business since the early 19th century. Their estate, complete with extensive gardens and parkland, stretched from Landhausplatz to what is now Salurnerstraße. The debate in the media over what should be done with this undeveloped piece of land between the city center and Wilten had already been raging for years. The rapidly growing district around the train station had been crammed with shops, factories, and residential buildings in recent decades. Ideas ranged from a trade museum to a boarding school to a public park for the relaxation of stressed city dwellers. None of these creative development proposals for Bismarckplatz—dedicated to the Iron Chancellor of German unification in 1871—were implemented due to the outbreak of war. In the early 1920s, Clemens Holzmeister presented the first proposal for modernizing Innsbruck on this still-vacant strip of land. His mega-project, which included a hotel, restaurants, offices, and apartments across ten floors, was ahead of its time. Not only were financial resources lacking, but local residents fiercely opposed the planned construction. By 1926, the shortage of funds was temporarily resolved through the currency exchange from crown to schilling and government bonds. The winning design by Lois Welzenbacher, however, did not silence the debates—quite the opposite. Instead of a park, the Innsbruck Electric Works was built on the Zelger grounds. It was not only the building itself but also the way Welzenbacher planned Innsbruck’s first high-rise that stirred controversy. The idea was to juxtapose a “New Town” against the Old Town. The cubic elements in the style of New Objectivity, which had already divided opinion at the municipal swimming pool on Amraserstraße, were seen by many as a disfigurement and by a few as a symbol of the city’s leap into modernity. Professor Josef Manfreda, himself an architect and teacher at the State Trade School, railed against the disregard for Tyrol’s mountain landscape and the violation of the “healthy and simple feelings of the population.” Years later, the building was still a topic of discussion, as shown by Manfreda’s 1930 article The High-Rise on Bismarckplatz:

"the displeasure with the bare wall surfaces that is currently so frequently expressed in the assessment of buildings is a natural, reactionary feeling of our spoilt eye, which sees the streets predominantly overloaded with heavy cornices and window frames."

The plain building with its distinctive clock faces without numbers was not only a visual challenge for many contemporaries. Until then, church towers had dominated the skyline, their clocks regulating daily life. Now a secular utility building towered over the city. Modern architecture attracted the new authorities after 1938. During the Nazi era, the SS occupied the third floor of the office building. While the SA had its headquarters in a Gründerzeit house on Bürgerstraße 10, the Gestapo resided in the Old University on Herrengasse, and the Gauleitung erected the New Landhaus opposite Bismarckplatz in monumental classicism, the SS chose the high-rise as its base—symbolizing a break with the past. Allied air raids caused considerable damage to the building. Renovation began in 1947, which also involved structural changes. The striking asymmetrical corner tower disappeared, and the window fronts were completely redesigned. The onion dome crowning the building like a Baroque church was reinstalled during an additional floor extension. The high-rise remained an attraction. Visitors could enjoy refreshments on a terrace café overlooking the city rooftops. With the pre-Olympic construction boom for the second Winter Games, the square in front of Innsbruck’s first high-rise was redeveloped. Instead of enlivening the open space to highlight the main building of the city’s utilities, the area was densified. In 1970, construction began on a three-story, rather unadorned commercial and office building and a 15-story hotel. The high-rise in the Brutalist concrete style is considered one of the architectural sins of its time, which still negatively affects Innsbruck’s skyline.

In the boundless optimism of the early 1990s, the casino was added to the hotel. For its daring façade of green marble with an overhanging steel-and-glass structure beneath a slanted wing-shaped roof, the building received the Austrian Client Award from the Central Association of Architects in 1993. The fountain in front completes the ensemble on the former Bismarckplatz—an area that, more than a century ago, almost became an inner-city park.

An imperial wedding and an imperial death within just a few days in the summer of 1765 briefly made Innsbruck the center of Europe. The Triumphal Arch (Triumphpforte) commemorates the events that took place in Innsbruck. On August 5, Maria Theresa’s son Leopold married the Spanish princess Maria Ludovica in Innsbruck. For the wedding party arriving from southwestern and eastern Europe, Innsbruck was an ideal meeting point to seal the union, as the former residence city already had experience hosting royal and princely weddings. But this time, everything that could go wrong did go wrong. Despite all efforts, the cultural program in the small city could not match the tastes of the noble society. Innsbruck, despite its glorious past as a residence city, had been little more than a provincial town for nearly 100 years. Unstable weather and the groom’s bout of gastroenteritis dampened the mood. News of the bride’s uncle’s death did not help either. The greatest misfortune came shortly after the wedding: on August 18, the groom’s father, Emperor Francis Stephen I of Habsburg-Lorraine, died of a stroke.

Originally, the wooden arch was intended only as a temporary, festively decorated entrance to the city for the wedding. Reviving the Roman custom of triumphal arches for major events of the imperial family was not unusual. A similar arch had been erected for Emperor Charles VI’s ceremonial entry into the city. In 1774, Maria Theresa had her triumphal arch built permanently in stone, modeled after the ancient Emperor Constantine’s arch, to commemorate both her husband’s death and her son’s wedding forever. The southern side of the arch, facing Leopoldstraße, expresses joy over the wedding of the future Emperor Leopold II. The portrait of the couple is flanked by figures of Providentia Divina (Divine Providence) and Constantia (Constancy). These two virtues were considered essential by the Habsburgs, legitimizing their power over their subjects through divine right, which ensured the stability of the realm for the common good. On the northern side, facing Maria-Theresien-Straße, the angel of death looms in baroque grandeur, symbolizing grief over the emperor’s sudden death. The arch was built using remnants of the city wall and demolition material from the suburban gate at today’s southern Old Town entrance, which had been removed in 1765 during modernization. With the Nordkette mountains to the south, Palais Sarnthein to the west, and the Winklerhaus to the east in the background, the Triumphal Arch today is no longer a memorial to the most disastrous wedding in the city’s history but a stunning photo spot. It’s worth getting up early, as daytime traffic can be quite disruptive if you want to capture a perfect shot.

Ferdinand I governed Tyrol from afar and was rarely present, but his officials made decisions that were significant for the entire European court. Tyrol was not only part of the Habsburg Empire, ruled by Ferdinand’s brother Charles V, but also an important hub for the business world of the Fugger financial magnates. Through their wealth and ties to the ruling family, they largely influenced Europe’s destiny. The Teutonic Order was not just a knightly order and a relic of the Crusades. At first glance, it may seem somewhat outdated in the Early Modern period, as warfare had long moved away from knightly armies and warrior orders. However, through skillful politics and connections to European high aristocracy, the Order ensured its survival even in an era when swords had long been replaced by gunpowder.

By 1539, the Order sold the building again, and ownership changed hands frequently thereafter. In the 18th century, the building was expanded to five stories and today serves as an ordinary residential house. In 1872, part of the house fell victim to flames during one of the frequent city fires. The facade of the once magnificent building was altered beyond recognition by these unfortunate circumstances, though the structural framework fortunately remained intact. It also suffered damage during air raids in World War II. Ironically, we owe it to the bomb damage that the building now shines again in its old Gothic splendor. During renovations in 1954, the original wall paintings were rediscovered and restored in 2001. Particularly beautiful are the elaborately decorated bay windows featuring depictions of Saint Christopher and Saint George. The lower section of the bay window displays the coat of arms. The Teutonic Order was as devout as it was militant, and Saint George, as the patron saint of the fighting class of the Middle Ages, suited these simultaneously pious and combative brothers perfectly.

In the southern part of Maria-Theresien-Straße, two buildings stand side by side that symbolically represent the power structures and interplay between Tyrolean economy and politics in the early modern period: the Old Government Building (Altes Landhaus) and the Fugger-Taxis Palace (Palais Fugger Taxis). The names Fugger and Taxis stand for early globalization, capitalism, and a transformation in the world of communication and media. With the Fuggers and the Thurn und Taxis, the palace housed members of two of the most influential families conducting business in Innsbruck. By today’s standards, one would have to invoke names like Warren Buffett and Mark Zuckerberg to make an adequate comparison. The Fugger-Taxis Palace bears witness both to the changes the world underwent from 1500 onward and to Innsbruck’s growing importance as a Habsburg residence city.

Many influential aristocrats built their palaces in the Neustadt during the 16th and 17th centuries to be as close as possible to the court of the Tyrolean sovereign. Although Innsbruck had lost some prestige since the days of Maximilian, it was still one of the most important cities of the Holy Roman Empire. After a fire, Imperial Privy Councillor Count Hans Otto Fugger commissioned a palace that would outshine all other city palaces. Who else could afford such a feat than a member of the Augsburg Fugger merchant dynasty, one of the richest families in early modern Europe? Johann Martin Gumpp the Elder was engaged to design the building, taking inspiration from the Genoese city palaces fashionable at the time. The palace, opened in 1679, suffered severe damage during the great earthquake only ten years later, like most buildings in Innsbruck. Through marriage, the building passed to the von Welsberg family, who rented it out in the following years. In 1784, Joseph Sebastian von Thurn und Taxis purchased the Fugger Palace to use it as a residence and postal station. The Thurn und Taxis dynasty was one of the most important noble families of its time. Through the introduction of the postal system, they achieved fame, honor, and wealth in the empire. In 1905, the Fugger-Taxis Palace became the property of the Tyrolean government to house additional offices for the Landhaus, which had already occupied the neighboring building for 250 years.

Das Alte Landhaus in seiner heutigen Form entstand erst nach dem Palais der beiden Unternehmerfamilien. Die Tiroler Landesregierung war in der Umstrukturierung nach dem Tod des letzten Habsburgers 1665 und dem Verlust des Status als Residenzstadt zu einem Neustart gezwungen. Fortan sollte nicht mehr ein Landesfürst, sondern ein Gubernator das Land Tirol regieren. Diese Statthalter entstammten zwar auch dem Hochadel, waren aber nicht mehr Besitzer, sondern Verwalter des Landes im Namen der Herrscherfamilie Habsburg. Das Staatsverständnis begann sich zu ändern und mit ihm die Anforderungen an die Infrastruktur. Da die Claudiana in the old town was too small for the new government offices, it was decided that the Harnischhaus in the Neustadt, a plater's workshop from the time of Maximilian, als Räumlichkeiten für die Landesregierung zu erstehen. Die kunstvollen Rüstungen waren in den Jahren nach dem Dreißigjährigen Krieg in Zeiten von Söldnerheeren, Feuerwaffen und Artillerie aus der Mode gekommen. Das Plattnerhandwerk erlitt das traurige wirtschaftliche Schicksal der Schallplatte in den 1990ern oder der Festnetztelefone im 21. Jahrhundert. Nach einem Brand 1620 und dem Erdbeben von 1689 war das Gebäude in desolatem Zustand. Jahrzehntelang fehlten aber Geld und politischer Wille, um einen Neubau zu finanzieren. In den Zeiten des französischen Sonnenkönigs Ludwig XIV. und seines absolutistischen, zentralistischen Regierungsansatzes, der in ganz Europa in Mode kam, hatten es auch Vertreter der Länder im Habsburgerreich schwer. Erst in der Zeit nach den Kriegen des späten 17. Jahrhunderts und frühen 18. Jahrhunderts unter Karl VI., dem Vater Maria Theresias, kam das föderale Prinzip in der Politik wieder stärker zur Geltung.

Between 1725 and 1734, the new home of the Tyrolean provincial estates and provincial officials was built according to Georg Anton Gumpp's plans. The building had to combine the functions of offices, meeting rooms and representation to the outside world. The baroque façade with its large windows reflects the fashion of the 18th century. The four estates are emblematically represented by crops, armour, a crucifix and a civic chain, which converge under the red eagle, the heraldic animal of Tyrol, on the gable The interior is even more extravagant than the façade. A richly decorated staircase with golden ornaments and statues welcomes the visitor. The ceiling is adorned with the Tyrolean eagle, which holds its protective wings over the historic land of Tyrol and the towns between Trento and Kufstein. Apollo, god of the muses and arts, and his sister Artemis, goddess of the hunt, were sculpted in wood by Nikolaus Moll during the first construction phase. The statues of Athena, the goddess of wisdom, and Ares, the god of war, were added in 1899 in the spirit of historicism. The assembly hall was no less splendidly decorated and is more reminiscent of a sacred building than a parliament. Based on an idea by Martin Stickler, the art-loving Abbot of Wilten, who also supervised the entire project, the six baroque paintings with biblical scenes depicting the individual regions of Tyrol were created. Red marble on the walls and the four man-sized statues of the two Tyrolean governors Charles of Lorraine and Charles III Philip of the Palatinate-Neuburg as well as Emperor Leopold I and Archduke Leopold V dominate the room, which is still used today for provincial assemblies. Four small putti with wine, a knight's helmet, a bishop's mitre and a Roman lictor's bundle symbolise the estates of the peasantry, the nobility, the clergy and the bourgeoisie.

In the courtyard of the Landhaus is the Landhaus Chapel of St. George, the patron saint of Tyrol, which was also redesigned in baroque style in 1728. Above the altar, the saint is honored with the words “Honori perpetuo DIVI Georgii Martyris Provinciae Tyrolensis Tutelatis” (To the eternal honor of Saint George, patron saint of the Tyrol region). The Tyrolean eagle is carried by putti. Striking on the baroque façade are the modern statues in the niches. In 2009, Ladin sculptor Lois Anvidalfarei created four scenes from the life of Saint George for the 200th anniversary of the Battle of Bergisel to symbolize the struggle between good and evil. Evil is represented not by a dragon, as in the legend of Saint George, but by a human figure. Considering Tyrolean history—especially that of the New Government Building around the corner—it is quite fitting to recall human ambivalence in a political context.

The history of the Servite Church is more fascinating than its modest appearance suggests. Anna Catarina Gonzaga (1566–1621), the second wife of Archduke Ferdinand II, founded the first establishment of the “Ordo Servorum Mariae” (Order of the Servants of Mary) in Innsbruck in 1612 with the Servite Monastery. At that time, the monastery was the only convent north of the Alps dedicated to Saint Joseph. The mosaic in the colorful entrance vault displays the coat of arms of the Duchy of Mantua with its four black eagles and red lion, alongside the coat of arms of the Archduchy of Austria. It symbolizes the union of Ferdinand and Anna Catarina Gonzaga and their dynasties. Although the Italian city-states had already passed their prime, they still possessed the means to marry into the highest circles of European aristocracy. During this era of church division, the northern Italian principalities and the Habsburgs formed the Catholic stronghold of Europe. Establishing this strict order was a major concern for the devout rulers from northern Italy. As a mendicant order, the Servites initially devoted themselves to caring for the poor. During the Reformation, the Servite Order, which originated in Tuscany, was completely dissolved in German-speaking regions and only began to spread again from Innsbruck in the 17th century.

The Servite Order faced many challenges in Innsbruck. Just a few years after the church was consecrated, the first building largely burned down in 1620. The Gothic entrance area of the original church with its distinctive columns survived. The founder’s plan to be buried in the church she had endowed had to be postponed. Johann Martin and Georg Anton Gumpp designed the new building in Baroque style in 1626. By then, Anna Caterina Gonzaga had already passed away. Instead of being buried in the Servite Church as planned, she was first interred in the Servite nuns’ convent and later in the Jesuit Church. It was not until 1693 that she was reburied in the Servite Church alongside her daughter. In the 20th century, the Servite Monastery once again faced dissolution. On November 3, 1938, the National Socialists dissolved the Servite Order as the first monastery in Innsbruck “for the protection of the people.” In Catholic Tyrol, actions against the Church had to be carefully planned and communicated. Often, the most outrageous stories were fabricated for this purpose. The Austrian edition of the “Völkischer Beobachter” on November 4, 1938 stated the reason as follows:

“State police investigations in the Servite Monastery in Innsbruck revealed such immoral conditions that it is impossible to present them publicly. The monastery in question is a den of vice of the highest order, behind which the anti-state behavior, evidenced by discovered writings, fades into the background.”

On December 15, 1943, the Servite Church was destroyed during the first air raid on Innsbruck. Only small parts of the historic structure and some paintings and relics in the art chamber and monastery museum remained intact. The striking painting on the exterior was recreated after 1945 during reconstruction by Hans Andre (1902–1991), who also restored the damaged Hospital Church after the war. Born in Innsbruck, Andre attended the trade school—today’s HTL—like many Tyrolean artists of the 20th century. After five years at the University of Applied Arts and a brief collaboration with Clemens Holzmeister, he returned to Innsbruck. After World War II, he focused on restoring churches damaged by the war. His interpretation of the Crucifixion scene on the exterior façade, simultaneously baroque and modern, reflects the subdued mood of the post-war era. Andre also created the paintings inside the church.

The first coffeehouse at the site of today’s Central opened on September 14, 1876, as “Café Grabhofer.” Although the year 1848 did not bring a bloody revolution to Tyrol, it did lead to social changes in everyday life. Coffeehouse culture was one of them. Anyone who considered themselves important met here to indulge in the muse of bourgeois existence, to discuss, or quietly read one of the many newspapers available during this politically heated time. Just like today, there was a bank directly opposite the café back then. Financial services and a modern coffeehouse formed, perhaps unintentionally, a perfect symbiosis for the upper middle-class clientele. The booming economy of the years following the 1873 economic crisis met a commodity that, thanks to late 19th-century colonialism, became increasingly affordable for more citizens. With his coffeehouse in a new style, proprietor Johann Grabhofer embraced the right trend at the right time and place. During the Belle Époque before World War I, the Central was one of many lively centers of city life. Students, soldiers, industrialists, citizens, and travelers gathered here to discuss, read, and celebrate in a pleasant atmosphere. After the founder’s death, his daughter and her husband managed the establishment. When she also passed away in 1891, Leopold Eck acquired the coffeehouse and renamed it Café Central. Just a year later, the unused upper floors of the same building became the Hotel Central. Five years later, Eck sold the building to the then-tenant of the café, Franz Kosak, who for the first time also served beer.

World War I and the Italian occupation period thoroughly reshuffled Innsbruck’s gastronomic fortunes. In 1919, during the post-war years, Josef Falkner first turned the coffeehouse into a depot for wines from his vineyard in Tramin, later into an office building for part of the Commerzbank, before reopening it as a guest establishment in 1928. Alongside the café and hotel, the enterprising restaurateur also opened the Falknerkeller wine tavern in the basement, modeled after South Tyrolean style. This became one of Innsbruck’s first establishments deserving the name “nightclub.” The hotel’s basement quickly gained a dubious reputation, as reported in the Allgemeiner Tiroler Anzeiger on June 8, 1928:

On 17 March, an exciting shooting took place in the well-known Innsbruck wine bar "Falknerkeller". In a fit of jealousy, 37-year-old railway employee Johann Raggl from Arzl near Imst had fired his revolver at his former lover Marie Amonn, who worked as a waitress in the pub. The shots missed their target only because a friend intervened.

After World War II, the Central became the “Comptoir Français” under French occupation and was used as a French restaurant. The Falknerkeller advertised its culinary offerings and unusually long opening hours with an original slogan in the Innsbrucker Nachrichten:

Falknerkeller's Easter wine must be as good as ever.

Please ask old folks how it was in pre-war years…

We close at midnight daily, please honor us with your visit.

At the end of the French occupation, the hotel, café, and cellar returned to Falkner. Breaking with tradition, Falkner abandoned the typical Tyrolean parlor style in favor of a more creative concept. The “Pirate Castle,” modeled after a harbor tavern, brought variety to Innsbruck’s post-war nightlife. The day before its opening in the new design, this ad appeared in the Innsbrucker Nachrichten: “A ship with Innsbruck pirates lands on July 1 on the previously unknown treasure island in the Falknerkeller! Come aboard! Josef Falkner / Isolde Sterzinger.” After Falkner’s death, the Sparkasse acquired the Central in 1967. The mix of nightclub and coffeehouse attracted mainly young people and students. In 1980, the Falknerkeller became Club Central. Seven years later, it was sold to the construction company Fröschl, which renovated the historic building while preserving its special charm. However, the era of nightlife on Gilmstraße was drawing to a close. Today, you can enjoy coffee, cake, and Austrian specialties at the Central in a pleasant atmosphere. The neo-baroque interior has survived the various renovations well, and the furnishings still recall the good old days when Viennese coffeehouse culture decided to settle in Tyrol and elevate the provincial town of Innsbruck to the standards of the Austro-Hungarian monarchy.

The Annasäule (St. Anne’s Column) is one of Innsbruck’s most popular photo spots. Especially in winter, when the snow-covered Nordkette mountain range rises behind the Old Town, the column against the backdrop of the mountains becomes a true hotspot—not just for professional influencers. The Annasäule was erected to commemorate the end of a conflict between Tyrol and Bavaria, which went down in history as the “Boarischer Rummel” (Bavarian turmoil). In June 1703, the Bavarian Elector Max Emanuel crossed the border with an army of 12,000 men and captured the supposedly impregnable fortress of Kufstein. After a series of victories, he advanced to Innsbruck and occupied the city. Gradually, Tyrolean troops managed to regroup and celebrate their first victories. On July 26, St. Anne’s Day, Tyrol’s defenders succeeded in driving the Bavarian invaders out of Innsbruck. To commemorate this victory, the Tyrolean Estates decided to erect a monument dedicated to St. Anne, to protect the city from future wars. The monument features several figures symbolically important to Innsbruck’s citizens at the time. The statue of St. Anne, its namesake, gazes devoutly north toward Bavaria. She was chosen not only because the victory occurred on her feast day. Anne was the mother of Mary, and her wish for a child was fulfilled very late by God. She is considered the patron saint of expectant mothers and the childless. Her domestic diligence and maternal role in stabilizing the household were regarded as feminine virtues before the first, very delicate wave of female emancipation in conservative Tyrol. St. George, the combative dragon slayer and patron saint of Tyrol, is also represented on the Annasäule. Statues of Cassian, patron of the Diocese of Brixen (South Tyrol), and Vigilius, patron of the Diocese of Trent (Trentino), flank the saints. Until 1964, Innsbruck was not the episcopal seat of the region. In 1706, the year the monument was built, Tyrol was ecclesiastically governed by the bishops of Brixen and Trent. This is why the two saints of these dioceses are present in Innsbruck. Particularly striking is the popular Tyrolean depiction of the Madonna on the crescent moon, which crowns the ensemble. In the apocalyptic Revelation of John, she is described as a witness to the final battle between Archangel Michael and the devil: “A woman clothed with the sun, with the moon under her feet and a crown of twelve stars on her head.” She can be interpreted as a symbol of the struggle between good and evil, which, according to Tyrolean interpretation, played out repeatedly in Innsbruck’s history during conflicts between the Habsburgs and the Wittelsbachs. The Annasäule quickly became a place of remembrance in Innsbruck. People gathered here to celebrate, debate, worry, and protest. Since 1945, Innsbruck has been spared from war, but the square around the Annasäule is still often a battleground—albeit on a different level. Local café and bar owners dislike when young people sit on the monument’s steps to enjoy the city center’s atmosphere without spending money. Yet the square is popular not only with ice cream lovers and beer drinkers but also as a venue for demonstrations and rallies of all kinds.

In 1854, Dominikus Zambra opened the first department store at Maria-Theresien-Straße 29: the iron and Nuremberg hardware shop. From kitchen utensils for housewives to toys for children of the growing bourgeoisie, and tools and equipment for mountain tours, locals and tourists could find all kinds of everyday items and souvenirs from their visit to Tyrol in Zambra’s store. Industrialization and the railway not only revolutionized people’s working lives but also changed consumption habits with new financial means and available goods. While farmhands in rural areas often worked for board and lodging, city dwellers—entrepreneurs, civil servants, workers, and the self-employed—had disposable income. An urban audience, where even the Church’s omnipotence began to crumble, developed new needs. Consumer behavior and society changed in dynamic interaction. Shops like Zambra’s deepened the divide between urban and rural populations in the second half of the 19th century. People dressed differently, ate differently, lived differently—and thought differently.

The later Kaufhaus Tyrol, which arose directly next to Zambra’s store, had its beginnings in a kind of Habsburg mélange. Its founders were two families from the eastern parts of the empire. The Bauer family came to Innsbruck from Burgenland as itinerant traders, while the Schwarz family had Croatian roots and earned their money with men’s and women’s fashion. In 1874, Josef Bauer moved his business from the corner of today’s Wilhelm-Greil-Straße/Museumstraße to Maria-Theresien-Straße 31. His son Luis opened the department store Josef Bauer & Son – Victor Schwarz & Co at this address together with his brother-in-law and the Schwarz brothers. Their toughest competitor in the booming fashion business was Josef Zelger with his fashion house at the corner of Anichstraße directly opposite. Bauer and Schwarz, however, overshadowed everything Innsbruck had seen so far with their concept. The row of houses was transformed into a modern shopping center in a spectacular renovation. In the four-story building with 2,000 m² of retail space, Innsbruck residents found an unprecedented variety of goods. Strolling, seeing, and being seen became trendy; shopping turned from necessity into leisure. Galleries invited visitors to indulge in shopping pleasure, while a fountain splashed among exotic plants on the ground floor.

For a few years, Bauer & Schwarz, Zelger, and Zambra coexisted before the economic hardships of World War I claimed the first victim among Innsbruck’s merchants. In 1918, Hugo Schindler bought the building where the Zambras had run their business and lived for 45 years. The Schindlers were the third immigrant family to establish themselves in Innsbruck with an offer for the upper class. They had come from Bohemia and opened a jam factory and distillery in Wilten. In 1922, Café and Confectionery Schindler opened its doors, offering locals and tourists chic dining, drinks, and entertainment. Dance evenings and concerts—far removed from rural stages that dominated Innsbruck’s cultural scene—quickly made Schindler one of the city’s hotspots.

Families who had moved to Innsbruck during the monarchy changed the city. Hugo Schindler amassed considerable wealth, enabling him to build Villa Schindler on Rennweg and mingle with high society. The Bauer & Schwarz department store, with over 200 employees, was one of Austria’s largest between the wars. Together with the “high-rise” on Bismarckplatz and the Adambräu brewery, these businesses symbolized modern Innsbruck. The problem was that these successful entrepreneurs were not only foreigners in the new German-dominated republic but also of Jewish origin. Despite efforts to integrate, the Bauer, Schwarz, and Schindler families faced repeated antisemitic hostility in Tyrol. Their wealth from luxury and retail businesses and their grand villas fed antisemitic and anti-capitalist stereotypes. Café and department store survived war, post-war years, and economic crisis, but the Anschluss to Nazi Germany was too much. Boycotts, coercion, and bans drove the Jewish owners into bankruptcy within a short time. Some family members fled to England; Wilhelm Bauer and his mother perished during the Nazi era. The café and department store were “Aryanized” and transferred to German companies. Ferdinand Kraus, a protégé of Tyrol’s Gauleiter Franz Hofer, bought the department store and inventory for a fraction of its actual value.

Nazism and war destroyed not only the families but also the building, which was heavily damaged in an air raid. After a long restitution process between Kraus and the Bauer and Schwarz families, a settlement was reached in 1959 that did not reflect the company’s true value. In 1964, Kraus sold the department store to Warenhaus-Immobilien GmbH in Vienna. Two years later, it reopened with great pomp. The new Kaufhaus Tyrol was long THE shopping center in Innsbruck. The city’s first escalator, installed here, was a sensation. But with the opening of DEZ near Amras and Sillpark in Pradl, it faced growing competition from modern malls with free parking. Its interior had also aged. Frequent changes of operators and complicated ownership structures sealed the fate of Innsbruck’s former temple of consumption in the 1990s.

In 2004, the SIGNA Group of Innsbruck entrepreneur Rene Benko acquired the venerable, long-vacant Kaufhaus Tyrol. Based on plans by architect David Chipperfield, the shopping center reopened in 2010 with a completely new look and feel. The concept shifted from a traditional department store to the now-standard model of multiple individual shops. In 2011, it was named Austria’s most beautiful shopping center. Innsbruck was pleased that a “local” investor had taken on the historic building in a prime location. Benko, who grew up in modest circumstances in Innsbruck’s former working-class district of Pradl, built an international real estate empire from scratch—only to see it collapse in one of Austria’s most spectacular bankruptcies in 2023, a story fit for novels and films. In January 2025, Rene Benko was arrested by the Economic and Corruption Prosecutor’s Office and convicted in sensational trials. While opinions in Innsbruck were initially divided over the modern architecture in Maria-Theresien-Straße, even skeptics now admit that Kaufhaus Tyrol has revitalized the city center. Today, Café Schindler, after decades of closure, offers fine dining and DJ sessions with a stylish view of Innsbruck’s downtown. A memorial plaque at the entrance of Kaufhaus Tyrol commemorates the building’s eventful history. The story of the Schindler family was turned into literature by a descendant living in Great Britain and staged at the Tyrolean State Theatre.

In soft pink, the Spitalskirche marks the beginning of Maria-Theresien-Straße, even though it is somewhat overshadowed by the taller adjoining buildings. The striking color, known as American Pink, was added to the façade in 1992. This was the latest in a series of developments that transformed a small Gothic chapel at the city hospital into the present-day church. After the earthquakes of 1689 and 1700, the Spitalskirche received its Baroque structure based on plans by court architect Johann Martin Gumpp. The fresco of the Virgin Mary above the organ, the stucco figures of the apostles on the columns with putti and Baroque ornamentation, the marble main altar, and the side altars made of wood imitating marble—along with the Gothic crucifix—survived the next wave of destruction when a bomb hit the building during World War II air raids. Renovation took place between 1959 and 1962. Innsbruck artist Hans Andre succeeded in bringing the Baroque paintings, such as the ceiling fresco of the Holy Spirit, into the modern era. He depicted the seven Christian virtues—wisdom, justice, courage, temperance, faith, love, and hope—after the horrors of the war years. Above the entrance gate stands the programmatic inscription: “In medio civitatis ecclesia illibata”—a church without blemish in the heart of the city. The church is dedicated to the Holy Spirit, patron of healing, comfort, and courage in the face of life’s burdens.

The history of the Spitalskirche and the former city hospital is closely linked to the development of healthcare, elderly care, and poor relief in Innsbruck. This chapter of the city’s history illustrates how care for subjects and citizens shifted from the Church toward the modern welfare state. As people of the 21st century, we expect to leave a hospital healthy. Until the 18th century, hospitals—including Innsbruck’s—were more often the final stop before the afterlife, under Christian care and supervision. The Innsbruck hospital chapel was first mentioned in a 1307 charter by Duke Henry of Carinthia and Tyrol. The hospital was founded by a charitable brotherhood of Innsbruck citizens and funded by church donations and endowments from wealthy locals. The 14th century was marked by increasing urbanization. Cities enjoyed privileges due to their economic importance. The civic hospital was intended to care for key workers. The hospice was located outside the city walls near the cemetery to minimize the spread of disease in the narrow streets. Its role was not only to care for the sick but also to support the destitute. Families remained the primary safety net in emergencies. Craftsmen organized some social care for incapacitated members or their widows and orphans themselves. People without families—servants, laborers, and the childless—were not abandoned, contrary to common belief. Poor women could give birth in hospitals. Elderly and needy citizens received clothing, food, and care. Orphans and illegitimate children were also taken in.

Institutions like Innsbruck’s hospital distinguished the city from villages, where healthcare and elderly care were far worse and laborers often worked until death. Wealthier members of the brotherhood, as paying members, could expect better care than non-members. The hospital also distributed alms to the poorest. This can be seen as an early form of social welfare at the municipal level. This system persisted for a long time. Until the 19th century—and in many areas until after World War I—it was not the central state but the municipality or benefactors who cared for the poor, sick, orphans, elderly, and disabled. Emperor Maximilian I, for example, planned a hospital at today’s Domplatz for old and sick members of his court, later named the “Kaiserspital.” The Church often co-organized this social work.

With industrialization and urban growth, the old hospital in the midst of residential buildings became too small. Innsbruck society changed not only in size. Workers and employees could no longer rely on the safety net of extended rural families in case of illness or accidents. Beda Weber described the old care facility in his Handbook for Travelers in Tyrol as part of his Innsbruck guide:

"Next to the church is the hospital, whose distinguished benefactor is King Henry of Bohemia, who in 1307 assigned considerable revenues to it. The number of patients, the mentally ill, and pensioners exceeds at least 100… Next to the hospital is a so-called brother house for 36 poor women and maids, who enjoy free lodging, laundry, firewood, and six kreuzers daily. From the hospital one steps onto the cemetery, surrounded by gardens and fields and enclosed by arcades."

Until the discoveries in microbiology and medicine in the second half of the 19th century by Robert Koch (1843 - 1910) and Louis Pasteur (1922 - 1895), hygiene was an underestimated factor in nursing.

"The entire hospital complex had only one well in the courtyard, from which water had to be carried to all rooms. There was no sewer system; only cesspits. The kitchen was on the ground floor, and directly behind it was the mortuary, where bodies were laid out. The cellar served as a drying and disinfection room. The sisters had to heat a baking oven until all lice were dead. The garden was divided for male and female patients. In a small building, the mentally ill were housed; two rooms were for calm patients, then three cells for the violent and a tea kitchen… Typhus patients were not isolated at all. If delirious patients tried to leave their beds, a fixed grille was simply placed around the bed."

Even before the relocation, the city hospital was a teaching hospital closely linked to the university. Teaching was one of the main reasons for the move and expansion; rapid population growth was another. After the university reopened in 1826, there were only about 20 students—today’s scale of study and clinical operations would have been unimaginable. In 1888, the hospital moved to its current location at the western end of Anichstraße, where it grew to impressive size. Innsbruck’s clinic is now renowned and respected far beyond Tyrol’s borders. The complex is almost a city district of its own, and Tirol Kliniken is the largest employer in the region.

A large part of the buildings constructed in Innsbruck during the 20th century had their origins in a type of school conceived in the 19th century, which continues to produce engineers, master builders, and technicians of all kinds to this day. The Higher Technical Institute (HTL) on Anichstraße not only reflects the bourgeois character of the Gründerzeit in its outward appearance but also illustrates the political and social upheavals of that era in education. The Austro-Hungarian monarchy, though one of the largest states in Europe in the second half of the 19th century, was far from being among the most innovative. Both Emperor Franz Joseph I and many members of the Reichstag were not up to date with the rapid technological developments of the time. Private investors kept things running through their investments in services and infrastructure. Whereas the Fuggers had granted the Emperor generous loans in the 16th century to secure mining rights in Tyrol, modern joint-stock companies obtained concessions for railways and gasworks in return for their engagement. The state welcomed them as partners to advance modernization with fresh capital and ideas. Alongside lucrative profit margins, they also bought political influence. One of their key demands was a reform of the school system. By the time of the Vienna World Exhibition in 1873, it had become clear that education needed to change to prepare young people for an increasingly industrialized world dependent on skilled labor. Humanism and military training could not replace modern vocational education.

The first technical schools in Austria focused on the wood industry. In Innsbruck, however, the State Trade School developed from an artistic environment. The founders and first teachers of the predecessor institution were Johann Deiniger, Heinrich Fuss, and Anton Roux—a sculptor, architect, and landscape painter respectively. Deiniger came to Innsbruck from Vienna in 1876 to work as a technical official at Ambras Castle. The following year, together with Fuss, whom he knew from the Academy of Fine Arts in Vienna, he founded a drawing and modeling school in the Dreiheiligen elementary school building. They had noticed that Innsbruck’s booming construction and architecture sector needed stronger professionalization. Urban expansion was driven by building firms that often resorted to stylistic copy-paste at clients’ request rather than developing original ideas and considering public needs, creativity, and cost-efficiency. Deiniger and Fuss pushed forward the ambitious project of establishing a k.k. State Trade School in Innsbruck—one of only about 20 in the entire monarchy. The timing was promising: in 1880, the Commercial Academy opened in Saggen to train future banking and finance experts. The following year, construction began on a dedicated building for the planned State Trade School, financed by public funds and the local savings bank, which was also interested in professionalizing the construction industry. Based on plans by Natale Tommasi—later co-designer of the main post office and the military cemetery—the three-story, classically styled building resembling a city palace was erected by Johann Huter & Sons. Its frieze of putti depicts symbols of art, technology, and construction.

Although Mayor Falk insisted that woodworking should be given ample space in the building, the artistic faction prevailed—unwittingly shaping the cityscape of Innsbruck in the First Republic. In 1882, the School for Construction and Applied Arts opened. Unlike today, students who were not exceptionally talented but lacked means had to pay tuition. While there was a department for wood and metalwork, most teachers came from creative fields. The faculty included architect Deiniger, painter Roux, sculptor Fuss, architect Max Haas, and workshop director Joseph Oppelt. In addition to its construction and applied arts department and workshops, the school offered drawing courses and evening classes for adults in the trades. Student numbers steadily increased. Architecture was considered a golden profession during the late monarchy’s urban boom—much like computer science in the late 20th and early 21st centuries. By 1884, the school was elevated to a k.k. State Trade School. Many of the architects and artists who shaped modern Innsbruck received their training there. In 1910, the building had to be expanded for the first time. Fritz Konzert and Eduard Klingler designed the new four-story structure, which appeared much more restrained and less ornate than the original. It was Konzert’s first major commission in Innsbruck and already hinted at his modern architectural approach. Apart from Jugendstil friezes with geometric figures and ornaments on the top floor, the façade is completely smooth. After World War I, changing requirements under the new state system altered not only the school’s name but also its character. The k.k. State Trade School became the Federal Trade School in the First Republic. In the 1920s, two new branches were added: machine fitting and electrical engineering. Under Chancellor Kurt Schuschnigg, the name changed again in 1936 to Peter-Anich-Bundesgewerbeschule, accompanied by a massive bronze plaque bearing the likeness of the school’s namesake. Peter Anich (1723–1766) still gazes sternly at visitors today. The inscription could hardly be more typical of Austria’s conservative corporatist state of the 1930s:

"By his own efforts, a farmer becomes a master of astronomy and geography, a famous surveyor and cartographer. Man's nature is his will and strength of will leads to the stars when it utilises the miraculous gift of the spirit."

After World War II, the school type received its current name: Höhere Technische Lehranstalt (Higher Technical Institute), prominently displayed above the entrance. The growing student numbers of the baby-boom generation made it necessary to split the school in 1973. A modern building was erected in Höttinger Au, now home to the HTL for Construction, Computer Science, and Design. The steadily expanded complex—renovated after a bomb hit in 1944—is now a listed building and extends with a courtyard overbuild to Innrain. Thanks to curricula and branches that continually adapt to technological developments, the HTL will likely continue to produce the city’s future designers under the watchful gaze of Peter Anich.

Adolf-Pichler-Platz today is a vibrant mix of buildings from different eras and styles. To the north and west, late 19th-century townhouses frame the small park with its trees, playground equipment, and the Adolf Pichler monument. On the east side, the modern Rathausgalerien with their glass façades adjoin the Federal Secondary School. A narrow cycle lane runs alongside the hopelessly congested street and the perpetually full parking spaces. It is hard to imagine that until the 1860s, a cemetery stood here in the heart of the city. Since the 14th century, the open space outside the city walls, behind the former city hospital and its chapel, had been used as a burial ground complete with arcades and cloisters. Only with the opening of the West Cemetery were the often lavish honorary graves gradually relocated, along with their monuments and memorials, from the Neustadt to the Wiltener fields. When the city hospital moved westward to the outskirts 20 years later, the Innsbruck market expanded onto the vacant land, giving the square the name Neuer Markt (“New Market”). In 1878, the market stalls had to make way for the construction of the elegant row of houses at the northern end of the square. Spurred by economic growth, some of the city’s finest historicist buildings arose here during one of the earliest waves of urban expansion. At the corner of Stainerstraße stands a beautiful residential and commercial building in delicate pink. The adjoining building boasts a neo-Romanesque façade, above whose entrance portal sits the lion typical of this architectural style. Particularly noteworthy is the house built in the rare brick style for Innsbruck. Its bay window is adorned with classical statues, columns, and exuberant ornamentation, while capitals crown the windows. In 1890, the Federal Secondary School moved from today’s Boznerplatz into the vacated premises of the former hospital. Founded nearly 40 years earlier, it represented a science- and mathematics-oriented counterpart to the Jesuit Academic Gymnasium, which focused on the humanities. Instead of classical languages, practical subjects geared toward the modern professional world now took centre stage.

The Adolf Pichler monument in the centre of the square was created under Mayor Wilhelm Greil. The square had long borne the name Karl-Ludwig-Platz, after the Habsburg Archduke and governor in Innsbruck from 1855 to 1861. Just a year after Adolf Pichler’s death (1819–1900), a committee was formed in the typical late-monarchic fashion to commemorate this esteemed “German” citizen in public space. By then, the town hall had moved from the Old Town to Maria-Theresien-Straße. For the municipal council, Adolf Pichler offered the perfect canvas to project the spirit of the age onto the square behind the new town hall. The Innsbruck intellectual embodied the idealised 19th century for the councillors: a self-made man from the bourgeois middle class with liberal and German-national convictions, standing in contrast to the Habsburg Karl Ludwig. The design of the monument was entrusted to Edmund Klotz, a Tyrolean sculptor living in Vienna, who had already created the Greil family tomb at the West Cemetery 20 years earlier. He depicted Pichler in the then-typical hiker and mountaineer outfit, complete with hat, walking stick, and geologist’s hammer as crown and insignia. The monument was inaugurated with pomp and music in 1909. The renaming to Adolf-Pichler-Platz was only decided by the municipal council in 1930.

The upheavals of the decades following the monument’s unveiling did not spare the square. During World War I, the Federal Secondary School premises, like many schools and public institutions, were converted into a military hospital. A bombing raid in December 1944 damaged several buildings. The square, like Tivoli and Rapoldipark, was used by residents as a vegetable garden for self-sufficiency. After the 1960s, traffic conquered the link between the Old Town, Innrain, and Anichstraße. Only with the redesign and new playground in 1994 did Adolf-Pichler-Platz regain its appeal. A few years later came the most comprehensive renovation. The drab façade of the town hall on the west side and its courtyard, used as a car park and rebuilt in the late 1940s after wartime destruction, were extended with a modern section. French architect Dominique Perrault won a competition with his idea of blending municipal offices with shops and restaurants to create a public space. The glass roof of the Rathauspassage is by Daniel Buren, while the tower’s glass façade was designed by Peter Kogler. Construction between 2000 and 2002 progressed slowly, as remnants of the site’s past as a cemetery repeatedly came to light. The new town hall, complete with shopping centre and adjoining hotel, transformed the square entirely. Around the turn of the millennium, the Rathausgalerien—alongside the new Bergisel ski jump and the planned Nordkettenbahn—became another milestone on Innsbruck’s path to its self-proclaimed status as a “world city” through modern architecture. Since the 2000s, glass façades face the Gründerzeit houses. Today, visitors can relax in the park on the former cemetery under Adolf Pichler’s stern gaze or spend the evening in one of the bars. Wilhelm Greil, patron of the monument committee and himself a merchant and moderniser, would likely have approved of this development.

The Mariahilf row of houses is one of Innsbruck’s landmarks. Together with the River Inn and the Nordkette mountains rising behind it, it forms a unique ensemble. The photo of the colorful houses is on every visitor’s bucket list, and even long‑time Innsbruck residents often pause to enjoy the view. Almost the entire row between the Metropol cinema and the fountain in front of house no. 48 is protected as a historic monument. At the corner of Höttinger Gasse and Innstraße, one can admire what is perhaps Innsbruck’s oldest wayside shrine, dating back to the early 15th century. Depicted are not only Jesus, Mary, and John, but also St. Nicholas—the patron saint of carters, pilgrims, and travelers. The location at the Inn Bridge was ideal for sending a prayer heavenward at the start or end of a day’s journey. The present‑day Mariahilferstraße was only developed in the 16th century as the main traffic route to the west. For a long time, the road actually ran one level higher, through today’s Schneeburggasse in Hötting, because the low‑lying area in the valley was swampy. Only when Ferdinand II ordered the drainage of the marshland and the construction of the Kranewitter Avenue did the new main road emerge. Along it, silver from Schwaz and salt from Hall were transported westward along the “Salt Road” toward Switzerland. After the taming of the Höttinger Au in the 16th century, inns and craft businesses settled in the narrow buildings along this new thoroughfare, providing services to passing travelers. Some still exist today; others can only be guessed from their façades. The Gasthof zum Weißen Lamm has served travelers since 1688, while the Hotel Mondschein proudly displays the year 1473 on its beautiful sign. The façade of Mariahilferstraße 14 shows a farrier at work; no. 34 still bears the inscription “Gasthof zum Mohren.” House no. 40 operated as an inn named Bierjoggl until 1980.

That the row still stands in its full splendor today is due to both luck and meticulous renovation. In 1809, insurgent Tyrolean fighters used Mariahilf as a base for attacks against Bavarian troops stationed in Innsbruck. Marksmen barricaded themselves inside the houses and fired into the city. The Mariahilf row became a fortress but suffered little structural damage. Far more devastating were the air raids during World War II. Fortunately, the decision was made to restore the damaged buildings to their original appearance rather than replace them with new construction, as happened in other districts. This reconstruction effort gave the block its curiously harmonious appearance. The varied color scheme from the 1950s and the uniform height of the four‑ and five‑story buildings contribute to the unique aesthetic of Innsbruck’s oldest surviving streetscape. Old photographs reveal the rather dull original colors.

The best view of the colorful Mariahilf row is from the Marktplatz. For a long time, the market had been located within the city walls at the Gemeiner Platz, where the Christmas market booths now stand each December. Farmers from surrounding communities and traders offered their goods there on market days. In the 16th century, as supply and demand grew in booming Innsbruck, the space within the walls became too cramped, and the market moved to the Rennplatz in front of the Hofburg. In the 17th century, the weekly market relocated again, this time to the Innrain. Well into the early 20th century, the market functioned much like it had in early modern times: merchants and farmers sold their goods from wooden stalls. Though department stores, fashion shops, and specialty stores had already emerged in Maria‑Theresien‑Straße, the provision of basic foodstuffs still relied heavily on open‑air trading at the Marktplatz. Plans for a modern market hall were a response to rapidly rising food prices from the 1870s onward and inadequate hygiene standards by contemporary expectations. What is today a trendy food market for the affluent was, at the time of its construction—long before supermarkets—a crucial supply center for Innsbruck’s population. In 1912, the Innsbruck City Council resolved to build a public wholesale market hall next to the former meat market and butcher stalls at the Innrain. Together with the municipal slaughterhouse opened in Saggen in 1910, it was intended to revolutionize prices, hygiene, and availability of food in Innsbruck. The building was constructed under Eduard Klingler and Jakob Albert, the city’s two most important officials under Mayor Wilhelm Greil. The older, now‑listed section was designed by Fritz Konzert (1877–1964), who had already collaborated with Klingler on the extension of what is now the HTL in Anichstraße. Like Klingler, Konzert worked as a municipal architect after earlier serving as a technician under Josef Riehl on railway projects. Konzert’s architectural work spans an impressive stylistic range: the secondary school in Müllerstraße shows neoclassicism; the municipal baths in Salurnerstraße were built in Art Nouveau; and the municipal indoor pool was designed in the avant‑garde New Objectivity style. The market hall, like the HTL extension, is a sober, functional building. A quarter of its construction costs were spent on a sophisticated cooling hall. The façade of the old market hall is somewhat obstructed by later developments, but from Herzog‑Siegmund‑Ufer it remains an impressive relic of the monarchy’s final years. With its clean, unornamented modernity, Konzert created one of the first major buildings in Innsbruck that hinted at a new architectural era. The eastern, modern extension was added in 1960. Today, the Marktplatz regularly hosts sports events and festivals such as the Christmas market and the fish market.