EDITORIAL
Beisl’s Lament
The closing of the beloved Café
Industrie on the Margaretengürtel
in May made headlines in Vienna.
A family Lokal handed down from
mother to daughter into the 3rd gen-
eration, the café ran headlong into a
group of stuffy neighbors complain-
ing of noise – which was strange.
After all the Gürtel was far noisier.
But this was just one of a long and
growing list of small taverns and
cafés in Vienna that have been clos-
ing their doors – a trend that so
alarmed journalist Clemens
Marschall of the Wiener Zeitung
that he set off on a foray across town
to see what was up.
What he found was fascinating,
while not altogether surprising – a
collision of social, generational and
economic shifts that are hitting the
branch like a small earthquake. The
power of corporate chain stores and
franchise restaurants; the lavatory
and anti-smoking laws; electronic
surveillance and the invasions of
digitalized accounting that tie the
hands of even the most well-
intentioned regulators; the young
who head for the clubs and the un-
thinking betrayal of cultural change.
Does any of this matter? Yes, more
than we often take the time to under-
stand. A true neighborhood Beisl
takes years to establish and is nearly
impossible to replace.
“It is by eating and drinking that
people come together,” Marschall
wrote, wondering if politicians
were even aware of what was lost
when each of these social ecosys-
tems dried up.
Tavern keepers lose their liveli-
hoods, their patrons their second
homes. Their gathering places, sup-
port systems, networks of exchange.
Places where they are known and
where they belong. DMN“Steigen Sie aus?”
Maybe it was the heat, maybe it was
the crowd ... but every time the
U-Bahn rolled into the station, there
it was. “Steigen Sie aus?” (“Are you
getting out?”) asked a frantic voice.
I mumbled an apology and flattened
myself against the divider.
Yes, yes, Vienna public transit is
the best in the world... But that
doesn’t stop its passengers becoming
slightly neurotic at every stop. I ac-
knowledge this is what the Viennese
so charmingly call “Jammern auf ho-
hem Niveau” (complaining at a high
level). This is a favorite sport, and the
U-Bahnen of Vienna are center ring.
In summer, things can be intense.
The open windows amplify the
squeaking of the wheels, creating a
sound barrier blocking all coherent
speech, or thought, for that matter.
And in winter, bulky coats make it
hard to navigate, but are too awkward
to take off. No matter what season,
chances are you will be sweating. The
beeping red lights keep everyone on
their toes, as an intrepid passenger
comes flying through the closing
doors like they are taking part in a
parkour video.
How to explain this existential
anxiety about being trapped in (or
out) of the U-Bahn. Whenever, wher-
ever, I seem to be between someone
and the exit.
Austrians want to be prepared, and
like preparing for war, they need to
know which obstacles lie in their
path, to plan their campaign. It’s par-
ticularly valuable when caught in an
unlucky corner of strollers, shopping
carts and backpacks, or the worst, in-
attentive smartphone zombies.
Sometimes it is the simple things
that make life easier. Like the smooth
readjustment of your bag that alerts
your fellow commuter that you’re
about to disembark. And asks word-
lessly, could he please move his
knees? And, miraculously, he does –
but only once the U-Bahn has come to
a complete stop. KHThe Price of Everything
Retail stores in Austria still stay closed on Sundays,
but the benefits outweigh the inconveniencesby Dardis McNamee | Publisher
So Richard Lugner is at it again. This summer, for the
third time, the shopping center magnate has gone to
court seeking a special ruling to allow his “Lugner City”
to stay open one Sunday a month.
Few think he has a chance: While a majority of busi-
ness owners (73%) are in favor of the change, the unions
remain opposed. While open shops please consumers,
those who would actually be working the shifts – most of
them women – vote consistently( 96%) against it.
Now routine in many countries, shopping on Sunday
is off the agenda in Austria. Nearly everything is
closed. Not the churches, of course, nor the temples of
culture, the museums, theaters, concert halls and
sports clubs; nor the restaurants, cafés, taverns
(absurd!) and essential public services like hospitals,
public transit and the police.
There are also some charming gestures to civilized life,
like the bakeries steaming with fresh bread (open until
noon) and florists, with bouquets for your hosts. And
some controversial fudges, like the supermarkets (also
selling wine and beer) muscling in on the exemption for
the travelers’ food shops in railway terminals and gas sta-
tions – an exception that infuriates Lugner.
This is a cultural choice. It’s about having time for
something else, time for gardening, perhaps, or playing
music, for leisurely eating and drinking with friends, for
taking in a show or a film – all the things you start having
time for when the business of life is off limits.
More than anything, Austrians talk about Sundays
with the family, for luncheon, board games or an outing.
Restricted shopping hours are in fact one of the few
things the Catholic Church and the Austrian Social Dem-
ocrats consistently agree on – that there should be times
that are free from the tyrannies and distractions of com-
mercial life.
It’s a choice not to have all social decisions made by
the market.
This is not snobbery: Culture and ideas are not elitist
in Austria, with one of Europe’s oldest public school sys-
tems and, since the 1920s, culture, sports, libraries and
continuing education programs specifically for the
working class. In Vienna, some of the most active the-
aters – the Rabenhof, Hakom in Nestroyhof, and the
cabaret theater Vindobona on Wallensteinplatz – are
part of Gemeindebauten social housing complexes.
So far, Lugner has the support of the Vienna People’s
Party (ÖVP) leader, Gerhard Blümel, and the NEOS,
pushing to lift restrictions. And Walter Ruck of the
Vienna Chamber of Commerce, who has proposed
“tourism zones” open Sundays to serve visitors. And
many retailers, scrambling to make up for sales lost to
online. Whatever the price, they say, it will be worth it.
But as with most things, knowing the price is not
enough. You must also understand the value of what is lost.