Ball season in Vienna, waiter, please, a dancer

Unlike Billy Wilder, Can is not. Not just because the young man in the tails and carnation can dance better than the Hollywood director, who in the 1920s hired himself out as a solo dancer in Berlin for five marks an evening, but also because the young man can dance better than the Hollywood director.

He is not allowed to pursue a career in film. The doctoral lawyer who is politely asking "Allow me, Madam?" is of Turkish descent and works in commercial law for an international law firm whose name his lady is also familiar with.

Can is above all a passionate dancer who excels at the waltz, cha-cha-cha, and rumba, and she is available for booking as such – and only as such. Today, however, that doesn't mean a single dancer like it did in Billy Wilder's day; instead, it means harmless taxi dancers.

It doesn't sound like she's a wallflower; rather, it sounds like a woman. And these, long past the age of the debutantes, don't need a ride from here to there; instead, they need one that can last seven hours while turning left and right; after all, a night of dancing typically lasts that long.

Beginning on November 11th, the Vienna season features about 450 balls. The customary time for them to begin is at ten o'clock, right after supper, but one should exercise restraint because the task is strenuous and necessitates a light stomach.

After a two-year break due to the corona, the Philharmonic Ball is danced so exuberantly as if there were no tomorrow, and while Can spins his paying lady around through the crowd during the Kaiser waltz on this lavish night, we think of Billy Wilder once more. In 1926, he relocated to Berlin from Vienna, where he had been living indigently in a space with gloomy wallpaper.

He hired himself as a waiter at the Hotel Eden for the lonely hearts to fight hunger. His report, "Waiter, please a dancer," which relates Wilder's agonizing experience on the parquet floor in a way that is both venomous and heartbreaking, reveals that making a living was more difficult than anticipated.

In the midst of cigarette smoke, perfume, and brilliantine, he finds himself covered in sweat in front of the older woman with the egg-yellow hair. What he encounters is pure martyrdom: "Dressed ladies from twenty to fifty. baldheads.

mothers who have underdeveloped daughters. Young people with vivid ties and light-colored spats.

When he finally gets up from table 91, drenched in sweat, he approaches the older woman with the egg-yellow hair and tremblingly reaches for the younger one, asking, "May I ask? " Fortunately, the taxi dancer Can receives more than five euros, and he doesn't tremble when he asks his counterpart. He's at the Musikverein with the polka, sweat drives him to the forehead at best.

He claims that his love of dancing and passion for balls is why he is here. After all, the woman might as well be his mother, which is why, when Rumba or Slowfox slows down, the conversations switch to pleasant topics, like work at the law firm, the new girlfriend, or other unimportant topics.

The orchestra then alters its tempo, and everyone's attention is immediately drawn to rotation. The three-day long process of creating Cinderella was too alluring to resist. The Vienna Tourist Board extended an invitation to not just one ball, but the best ball in Vienna.

Obviously, this rank does not belong to the glitzy event at the State Opera with the throngs of television cameras and celebrities from jungle camps, but rather to the ball of the Vienna Philharmonic at the Musikverein, the most stunning concert venue on earth. Nothing is more distinctly Viennese than a Capuchin crypt, a fiacre, and a philharmonic orchestra.

The three-day excursion's promise of "The Making of Cinderella"-style activities was another draw for the formerly ardent ball-goer. Anyone who initially thought that three days of preparation time for a single evening was excessive soon realized that they were incorrect: it takes a lot of effort to remove your jeans and sweatshirt in order to enter a dream made of silk, so there was no such thing as a long enough amount of time to plan.

A ball always requires work, as any seasoned master of ceremonies will attest; after all, you want to look your best. Choosing the appropriate robe is the first step in achieving that.

It's important to find the most tolerable way to balance desire and reality in this situation. Politics in three-to-four time - happy Austria Ball enthusiasts of all stripes must wait several hours to be outfitted at Flossmann, where they are in their fourth generation and only by appointment.

There isn't time for the champagne and Mozart balls that are being served because seamstresses are flitting around and asking questions like: delicate yellow or rather Schweinfurt green? Silk or Tarlatan? hourglass shape? long skirt? sleeveless or deep cleavage? And then there are the details like whether to have sequins, pearls, gloves, ruffles, or ribbons?. There is no mention of complementary jewelry.

And as for the bodice, in the Austrian movie "Corsage," you can see firsthand how Empress Sisi once allowed herself to be crammed into this armor with the assistance of several maids. No, the bodice stays in the cabin. Instead, the floral magenta dress with the bat sleeves is picked after a sweaty hand-to-hand struggle.

The robe must be fastened by a second person's hand, tick by tick, in the hopes that the delicate eyelets will hold up through the night. The man doesn't have a lot of options while an Englishman with the same long-term objective is fighting in the next room while wearing pants, a skirt, a shirt, and a waistcoat.

After all, he doesn't want to be mistaken for the waiter in the evening, and tails are required at the Philharmonic Ball, so he must learn to tie his bow tie, which of course must be white. Because of this, wearing a belt is considered taboo, just like wearing a watch or a pre-made bow.

Men's individuality is limited more than that of women due to the rigid dress code. He is therefore spared the agony of having to make a decision, which makes it easier for him. He still looks sharp in tails, too.

Following the fitting, a dance lesson is given to help the lightning course students refresh their memory of the rusty steps. Of course, there is time for the waltz, but there is also time for the quadrille, a community dance that, at midnight, throws the dance hall into anarchic chaos with each new figure, such as "trousers," "summer," "chicken," and "shepherd.".

makes everyone get up from their chairs. The Philharmonic Ball is traditionally opened with the entry of the debutantes by the director of the 1919-founded and deeply ingrained in Vienna society Elmayer dance school.

In addition to dance instruction, politeness is also taught to the Viennese jeunesse dorée. The 1957 book "contemporary guide for him and her," written by the company's founder Elmayer, is still in high demand.

Additionally, the wild quadrille unquestionably falls under the category of etiquette. We are fortunate because of the revolving door It is no accident that a lieutenant of the Imperial and Royal Dragoons founded the dance school following the First World War.

In the past, imperial officers were instructed in dancing as well as shooting for the sake of national defense, which made Austrians very happy. It goes without saying that politics and business are still conducted on the Musikverein's floor today, which explains why, in addition to Chancellor Nehammer, other notable figures from business and politics can be seen this year.

Additionally, the ball season itself is a business. When there isn't a pandemic, half a million ball guests, many of whom are foreign visitors, bring in more than 130 million euros annually. Billy Wilder once confessed to being a fool in order to dispel doubts: "The revolving door pushes me into happiness.

The lady at the ball had entered the hotel's foyer through the front door as if for a dress rehearsal for the evening after being greeted by the Imperial's bellboy in livery. The Ball Expedition's headquarters are housed in the opulent Ringstrasse Palace, which is situated behind the Musikverein.

The home is located at the square's first address. The Arabic television channels in the suites, which are so large you could almost get lost in them, are the only indication that it currently belongs to a consortium from Saudi Arabia.

The praline spread across the bed has the same flavor as the famous Imperial cake of the house, which, unlike the Sacher rival, is square and not baked. The long-time head porter Michael Moser, who served as the inspiration for the concierge in Wes Anderson's film "Hotel Budapest," has the necessary Viennese humor and even more anecdotes, and he grants even the most bizarre wishes.

Queen Elisabeth, who did not frequently stay at hotels, immediately ordered the removal of the furniture from her suite so that she could spend the night in borrowed artifacts from the museum. Even the most bizarre requests from guests are fulfilled by establishments like the Imperial.

In the midst of the Cold War in 1961, Kennedy and Khrushchev both stayed here as the notoriously futile Vienna Summit attempted to defuse tensions between the two superpowers elsewhere. In addition to Pirandello, Charlie Chaplin, and the Soviet military after 1945, Thomas Mann was also present.

Mr. Dot Moser would rather remain silent regarding the fact that Hitler also resided in the home following the annexation in 1938. Additionally, the Imperial, which was originally constructed in 1865 as the Württembergsches Palais, was partially owned by an Austrian Jew prior to World War II. This Jew was compelled to sell it in 1938 and was assassinated in Theresienstadt in 1942.

The imperial presence permeates the entire palace, which he first opened as a hostel in 1873. Overlooking Stuccolustro's grand princely staircase is a statue of him that is larger than life.

However, in light of the scandal involving the actor Florian Teichtmeister from the Burgtheater, Franz Joseph is not a topic that is easily broached these days. Sisi is the subject that herr moser prefers to discuss, but not for very long.

He informs his English-speaking listeners, "I don't like her.". Billy Wilder's "Hoping for the Big World" In the meantime, the bellhop at the revolving door keeps things running smoothly as daily influxes of new ball attendees fill the foyer.

While make-up artists move into the suites to begin working on the women, there is a scent of Chanel in the air. Baggage boys stutter up the stairs carrying bags in their arms, a gentleman asks for the cobbler, and patent-leather shoes still need to be organized. It's winter outside, as it always is when Vienna is dancing, but do you have flowers or stars in your hair, lady?.

In his text, Billy Wilder also became icicle-like and reflected on his cold-ridden friends who, like him, had no idea where to stay the previous night. But now that he was dancing, he said, "The world will be all around me.

And when it finally, finally starts, we anticipate it to still be alive a century from now. A quick meal with the other guests in the hotel, followed by a quick walk across the street to the Musikverein's side entrance through the back door.

The coat is not even necessary. A single individual must then make his way to the box on the first floor through a lot of jostling, pushing, shoving, and rustling that is hardly controllable.

The breathtaking sight of a Greek Renaissance orpheus in gold leaf, however, becomes apparent once you arrive. All neo, of course, Ringstrasse architecture from the nineteenth century, is Indiana Jones also anticipated?.

A sea of flowers surrounds the large hall with its coffered ceiling, columns supporting it, and bare-breasted caryatids. Hundreds of cell phones flash, and it must be captured on camera. Not only the attendees at the ball spent days preparing, but so did the organizers.

To make this temple of the arts shine in splendor and glory at ten o'clock sharp, thousands of people were involved. And only today, on this single evening of the year, will the Philharmoniker give up their customary position on the podium to the dignitaries who are just moving in.

The 2023 ball's John Williams fanfare plays first, followed by the Richard Strauss fanfare, which sounds a little like Indiana Jones is still to come. After that, the debutants start to turn to their social initiation, and it announces: "All waltzes!" Now or never. Nobody wants to leave this place; nobody wants to stay.

When Billy Wilder experiences the worst—his shirt sticking to his body and the dancer's arms pressing down on him—he wants to leave her and leave everything behind. The aspirants to the Viennese ball are not in such a bad situation.

Nobody wants to leave this place; everyone is eager to go there. The crowning achievement of Vienna's dance entertainments is regarded as the Philharmonic Ball.

Anyone who is worth something in bourgeois society can be found here, and everyone who has one of the uncommon subscriptions to the Philharmoniker, which are so prized that they have been passed down through families for generations, can also be found. Of course, it's difficult to stay on task when surrounded by 3500 dance-crazy people as there are many different robe accidents to account for.

However, it is virtually impossible to lose your balance. The dance instructor had advised us to start in the middle if we were uncertain, but soon we found ourselves being drawn to the outer circles as well.

It flutters, swings, and makes noise all over the place. Alternating between two orchestras is played.

Previously, The Philharmoniker had permitted their instruments to vanish through a mysteriously appearing hole in the stalls into the unfathomable depths of the Musikverein. The Musikverein is also home to the Viennese adabeis, who live for sight-seeing and attention.

Franz Viehböck, who was the first and only astronaut from Austria up until this point, performs while Anna Netrebko struts her stuff for the cameras and Tobias Moretti, farther back, masters the shaky stage. At their own company party, the Philharmoniker is also busy: the percussionist is in charge of choosing the sparkling wines for the bar, and first violinist Kirill Kobantschenko is the DJ for the Metal Hall.

In the Makart studio, you can sway to Piazzolla's melancholy tangos while listening to Heurigen music somewhere else. No matter how audaciously those at the top cut three-quarters, no matter how audaciously those at the top in the great hall cut three-quarters.

The Philharmonic Ball really shines as a festival for artists down here, in the cellar. Going up and down the stairs takes strength, but there are many things to discover besides the large streams, like women applying makeup in their beauty corner, getting hairstyle advice, or visiting the tailor shop downstairs, which fixes all kinds of robe emergencies.

Since the "ladies' donation" does not occur until five in the morning, Red Bull will now be required in place of champagne because the night is now too long to end before then. The British acquaintance regrets that this time there is no gift for the gentlemen.

One could argue that the Viennese ball season thrives on diversity because every guild and community, no matter how small, organizes its own ball, including the coffee makers as well as the druggists, the chimney sweeps, the land hunters, the water workers, the confectioners, and so also the vegans, queers, and recently refugees. Here, all of the senses can be used to experience music.

As a debutante at the Philharmonic Ball, you are demonstrating that you are a member of the more modest and restrained bourgeois class than what you would be at the Opera Ball. However, if traditions are upheld that are viewed as tangled elsewhere, it is important to network internally and set boundaries externally at the same time, for instance through polite distancing from the zeitgeist.

What's more, it's quite unusual to be able to experience the music here, in this historical location, so authentically and literally with all your senses. Is that a rebellion against the brutalization of society? Or do the Viennese just want to enjoy beauty?. Even though it is not a quote from Gustav Mahler, the phrase "that tradition is not the preservation of the ashes, but the passing on of the fire" is appropriate.

And as we are thinking these things over, we notice a young woman in tails holding her lady's hand in the midst of the chaos. She abruptly reveals that the Philharmoniker has long since answered these queries: Everyone must wear tails to their ball, but they don't care who is involved.

The second quadrille dissolves all boundaries in a fantastic way; everything is now one or a ball: men and women, experts and Non-professionals, old and young, thick and thin. At a late hour, enormous amounts of alcohol had flowed in the meantime, shoes danced to pieces, flowers withered, and knitted hats fell. The eyes are heavy, and the feet are burning.

The Café Schwarzenberg or the nearby sausage stand may now be reached by some people traveling even further. We are experiencing head spinning.

quickly said goodbye to the taxi dancer Can, gathered up the dress, and limped over to the hotel. The praline is resting on the pillow, which is what people in Vienna refer to as a cushion.

She won't be mocked this time around.

Obviously, this rank does not belong to the glitzy event at the State Opera with the throngs of television cameras and celebrities from jungle camps, but rather to the ball of the Vienna Philharmonic at the Musikverein, the most stunning concert venue on earth.