Vienna in April

Vienna is the city I photographed most bar Budapest and my hometown. It is of course closest of all major European capitals- just three hours ride on the MÁV/ÖBB Shinkansen through greening fields and wind turbines. Which I insist on calling windmills, for if Don Quijote saw monsters where there were windmills, I see windmills where there aren't any. 

Of course the reason for photographing Vienna so much is not simply that it's close, it has a lot more to do with the fact that I love it. I think it's pretty difficult to say you love a city you haven't lived in, because your knowledge of it will always remain somewhat superficial, if not touristy, then at least traveler-ish, for lack of a better word. But I'll hazard the thought that I've been to Vienna enough to manage scratching below the surface. 

It's hard to put into words how a city feels but Vienna is wide, clean, easy-going and pastel coloured. Vienna is pretty happy no matter the weather, and when there's blazing spring sunshine, then it bursts at the seams. There's something hidden about Vienna, that eerie turn of the century feeling that not everything is what it seems, that there is something dark beyond the golden polish. 

And they still smoke in coffee houses in Vienna. That might seem trivial, but it isn't. Vienna is the kind of city that holds on to its essence come what may. Vienna is a book read in a smoky cafe, downing kleiner Brauner after kleiner Brauner.

Little Boots @ A38

I often wonder what on earth is in the rambling minds of event organizers when they book a particular pop act for, let's say the Budapest spring or autumn festivals. Last autumn we had St Vincent and now Little Boots for spring. 

They both ended up on A38, the only difference from a classic gig being that it was darn complicated to buy the tickets.(All of this unnecessary hassle happening when I finally memorized my A38 user ID and password. Life's not fair.) To add insult to injury, once you managed to trick the devilish system and purchase the much coveted items, you were told to religiously memorize a purchase ID, which then proved totally useless as at the scene of the crime a bored young lady ceremoniously looked through hundreds of envelopes labelled by name...

The ticket prices were intriguing as well, as St Vincent was dirt cheap for her category, whereas Little Boots was a tad pricey, a fact which was clearly visible in the rather diminished ranks idling away on A38 before the concert. 

Strangely still, her gig was a short(ish) capsule of her hits, without an encore. Which is quite a pity given the fact that she does have some dance floor super hits in her back catalogue and could have saved a couple for a grand finale. By the time the crowd really got into the mood it was all over and everyone was politely invited to scram off into the night. 

Quite awkwardly, polite is the word which best seems to qualify the gig. Little Boots herself was awfully polite, the people in the first row as well, we were politely told not to put our drinks on the stage then we politely put them there. Yet in the midst of this awful politeness you really felt the need for a good old rude disco track. But then, of course, you politely let go.

April Random #1

There's no more connecting these shots than the fact that they were taken in Budapest, in April (though I have a slight suspicion the first might be from March).April is that time of year when you can't trust the temperature much, so some were taken with my fingers frozen to the camera, and some in almost summery heat.

Quite a few were taken at night, since I always become a night owl, or in keeping with this year's theme and my Transylvanian roots, a vampire, during Titanic film festival. There's also a special one dedicated to József Attila on almost his birthday- for on the 11th I was already home for Easter. Which means there must be a shot of Keleti as well, bedecked in some evening crimson, looking damn fine still-it was taken minutes before I found out that, as usual, my night train would be catastrophically late. There's even one taken in the rain, to celebrate the (in)famous April showers, though it ended up not looking like a rainy shot after all.

And there are also a couple of shots from one of my favourite Budapest streets, Reviczky, which is lined with some pretty trees doing their pretty tree stuff both in spring and autumn, first bursting into a splendidly scented flower frenzy then turning all rust and copper after summer.