Paul Sullivan visits one of Saxony’s most interesting and culturally-endowed cities…
Leipzig is not Berlin. That might seem like an obvious and even unnecessary thing to say, but the media hysteria that exploded a decade or so ago in the German and international media—most of whom really ought to have known better—claiming that the Saxony city is the “new Berlin” was, well, embarrassing. Not only did they try to coin awkward epithets like “Hypezig,” they also annoyed many Leipzigers.
Quite frankly, Leipzig doesn’t need to be the new anything: the city holds its own very nicely indeed, thank you. Officially founded in 1015—a couple of hundred years before the German capital, by the way, and its university is much older than Berlin’s too—it offers a rich and colourful history that sets it distinctly apart from other German cities, including Dresden, the Saxony capital, located an hour or so south.
Arriving by rail is the best way to get a sense of the city’s status, thanks to Leipzig’s grandiose main train station, which dates from the nineteenth-century and is—who knew?—Europe’s largest, measured by floor area. It’s also conveniently located in the town centre (Altstadt) and therefore provides a perfect jumping-off point for an exploration of the city and its storied past.
Most of the old town’s attractive cobbled streets, lined with handsome buildings that span Renaissance, Art Nouveau and Neoclassical architectural styles, wind their way to Marktplatz, the city’s landmark central square, which—true to its name—hosts a farmer’s market every Tuesday and Thursday, as well as the city’s main Christmas market each winter.
You won’t be able to miss the Altes Rathaus (Old Town Hall), one of the most eye-catching structures on the square. Despite the bold and ornate Renaissance exterior, it was allegedly built in just nine months during the mid-1500s. Some of the interior is also original, and contains part of the excellent Leipzig Museum of City History, covering, over two floors, everything from the city’s Slavic roots, its importance as a trade hub in the Middle Ages, the mighty Battle of Leipzig, all the way through to industrialisation, as well as life under Nazism and Communism.
Alongside the commerce and wars, reformations and revolutions that have shaped the city, one of the major threads throughout the exhibition is Leipzig’s impressive cultural legacy, which includes such giants of German culture as Felix Mendelssohn-Bartholdy, who conducted here from 1835 until his death in 1847; native Leipziger Richard Wagner (no introduction needed); Friedrich Schiller, who lived here and in nearby Gohlis and penned “Ode To Joy” here; the polymath Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, who studied at the university between 1765 and 1768; and Gustav Mahler, who came to the city in 1886 and was engaged at its New Theater as a conductor. Robert Schumann and his composer wife Clara also lived here for several years.
The biggest connection of all, though—or the one that the city seems most proud of anyway—is Johann Sebastian Bach, who was born in Eisenach but spent most of his life in Leipzig, and was sworn into the city at the Old Town Hall. Hurl a conductor’s baton northeast of the Marktplatz and it would probably bounce off St. Thomas’s, the striking fifteenth-century Gothic church where Bach served as musical director from 1723 until his death in 1750. Luther also preached here one Pentecost Sunday when it was a monastery in 1539, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart played organ during a European tour in 1789, and Wagner was baptised here in 1813, later studying piano and counterpoint at the church.
Yet it’s Bach’s statue that stands regally outside the church, whose grave lies underneath it, and who has his own museum and archive right opposite. Set inside the elegant former residence of the Bose family—Bach’s own family home was demolished in 1902—the museum offers twelve thematic rooms dedicated to the composer’s life and works, with highlights such as a room full of baroque instruments, 44 original sets of parts of Bach’s chorale cantata cycle (all written in Leipzig), and a tour through the Leipzig that Bach would have known.
It’s possible to leap from classical music to Communism within a few minutes thanks to the nearby Museum in der Runden Ecke, set inside a building that served as the former headquarters of the local Stasi for forty years. The interior has been kept as intact as possible following the ousting of the GDR regime, meaning it’s infused with that distinctive East German aesthetic of linoleum floors, muted colours, and the creepy feeling that those framed photos of Erich Honecker are watching you wherever you go. The rooms now contain the permanent exhibition “Stasi – Power and Banality”, which is crammed full of sinister objects used mainly for spying such as listening devices, badges, passports and disguises, equipment for opening mail, and body-scent archives—and traces the feared institution’s history, structure and methods of operation.
You’ll be ready for lunch after that. For a classic Leipzig experience, head to Auerbachs Keller, an historic wine bar that back in the sixteenth century was frequented by Goethe, It was rebuilt in 1912 below the handsome Mädler Passage—just one of many such attractive covered passages in the city centre—and the statues at the entrance are a nod to Goethe’s literary masterpiece Faust, which mentions Auerbachs (it was his favourite wine bar when he was a student here). Today it comprises several dining rooms with painted walls, timber beams, and a hearty selection of German and Saxon dishes such as smoked duck and roast wild boar (vegetarian and vegan options are also available).
Walk off the lunch—and hopefully the beer you washed it down with—by strolling over to Augustusplatz, where you can admire a decidedly eccentric ensemble of buildings, several of which are East German replacements for earlier structures destroyed during the war or by the GDR itself. These include the Leipzig Opera House, built in sober Socialist Classicist style, which sits on the site of the pioneering New Theatre, where Mahler conducted for two years; and the flamboyant Gewandhaus, constructed later in the 1970s, and associated with Felix Mendelssohn, who conducted the premieres of symphonies by Robert Schumann and Franz Schubert here. Another GDR building you can’t miss here is the looming Hochhaus, built in 1971 by architect Hermann Henselmann; take a lift up to its 160-metre-high viewing platform for dramatic city vistas (and a restaurant).
Leipzig has a reputation for art as well as music. Much of the attention in recent years has been given to the Spinnerei, a former nineteenth-century cotton mill in the district of Lindau that was successfully transformed into a slew of galleries, artist studios, and a cute indie cinema. Thanks largely to the association of artist Neo Rauch, who opened a studio here, the venue became associated with the post-reunification New Leipzig School, but younger artists have been exploring media and video art. It’s well worth the 30-minute tram ride if you want an insight into what’s happening with contemporary art in the city.
Closer to the centre—and Augustusplatz—you can get 3,000 years of art at the impressive (and sprawling) Grassimuseum, which houses the Museum of Applied Arts, the Museum of Ethnology in Leipzig and the Musical Instrument Museum. The first two are particularly rewarding, offering approximately 230,000 pieces—vases, jewellery, costumes, furnishings, paintings—dating from antiquity to the present day; over 1,500 items alone span Art Nouveau, Art Deco, Functionalism and East German design after 1950. It’s a must for art history fans.
Also nearby is the Museum der Bildenden Künste (Museum of Fine Arts), which is a little easier—and quicker—to navigate, with four floors of art from the Late Middle Ages (including Lucas Cranach and Hans Baldung Grien), Dutch paintings from the seventeenth century by the likes of Frans Hals and Jan van Goyen, plus some German Romanticism by Caspar David Friedrich and Johann Christian Dahl—not to mention French Impressionism from the Barbizon school and Claude Monet, a comprehensive display of works by Max Klinger, and works by Auguste Rodin.
Whether you do one or both of these museums, you will be needing a kaffee-und-kuchen (coffee and cake) break—and you wouldn’t want to miss out on Riquet, one of the city’s remaining historic cafes which matches an interior of Art Nouveau and Chinese architecture with glistening vitrines featuring a formidable selection of cakes and pastries. Don’t worry about not finding it: it’s the only place with two copper-plated elephant heads flanking the entrance door.
From here you can enjoy a casual stroll through one of Leipzig’s green spaces. There are several to choose from, but Clara Zetkin Park, with its small lakes, wooden bridges overlooking the Elsterflutbett river, and pleasant winding pathways, is a wonderful place to lose yourself for an hour. Exit the park at Karl-Liebknecht-Straße (KarLi, as the locals call it) to find an endless array of cafes, bars and restaurants, as well as some interesting shops, buildings and street art.
KarLi is a great place to hunt for dinner with a choice of traditional German restaurants as well as international cuisine of all kinds, from Asian to Italian, burgers to kebabs—and it has the added bonus of some great bars to drop into afterwards. Cinema and community space naTo has a restaurant and bar if you want to stay with the cultural theme, or try Barfly if you want to have pub grub and cocktails in one place.
You might want to save your last drink for Flowerpower, a “cult-kneipe” back towards the city centre where all manner of Leipzigers mix together, often to the raucous sound of some local rock & roll. You may well meet some new friends—but please don’t tell them their city reminds you of Berlin.
This article first appeared in a print edition of This is Germany magazine and was reproduced with kind permission of the publishers