Vienna’s Priceless Maori Treasures

Press, Volume CV, Issue 31042, 23 April 1966, Page 5

Vienna’s Priceless Maori Treasures

(Specially written for “The Press” by WALTER BROOKES) TN the train from Prague to Vienna an Austrian couple told us that our old friend Professor Andreas Reischek was dead. It was a shock. We were going there mainly to see him. When we were in Vienna nine years ago he had practically made himself our host.

He was the son of Andreas Reischek, the famous Austrian who helped von Haast to found the Canterbury Museum and after a further 10 years exploring New Zealand took back what is probably the biggest and most important collection of Maori artifacts, mounted birds, and preserved plants in Europe, not excepting what is in the British Museum. Professor Reischek died about a year ago at the age of 74. He had held the post of Director of Educational Services of the Austrian radio. But he never realised his ambition to visit New Zealand. We could still, however, visit Dr. Irmgard Moschner, who is in charge of the South Seas department in the Ethnological Museum and makes the Reischek collection of Maori artifacts her special care—the birds and plants are in the Natural History Museum on the other side of the Ringstrasse. When we arrived it was evening and we made for our old hotel, the Wandl, near St. Stephen’s Cathedral. On the way we noticed what a different place Vienna was since the time it was recovering from the Occupation. “Grown lovelier now, grown dearer,” 1 said to Elsie as we went through the traffic and bright lights. I proved to be right. We got a room at the Wandl half

the size and twice the price of the one we had nine years ago. Even so we were lucky because the hotel was crowded with an American organised tour. Old Friend Next morning we set out for the museum which is a little way past the. famous Opera House, and were disappointed to see a notice saying that it was closed today. However, the door was open, and just inside were a couple of caretakers. I told them that we would like to see the Reischek collection. When we were there before it was not on display and we had to rout through the basement with Irmgard because the Austrians had just brought it back from the salt mines where it was hidden during the War. I assured them we had come 12,000 miles from New Zealand specially to see it.

“Then I will have to ring through to Dr. Moschner,” said one of the men. “Wonderful,” I said to Elsie, “Irmgard is still here.”

I had managed to put my story across to the two men in German, but I realised with great relief when I was handed the phone that there was no need to do this when I was speaking to Irmgard who had studied in London at the British Museum. I- told her who we were. Two Collections ’ “Walter Brookes!” she said in astonishment. “Bring your wife up to the top of the stairs and I’ll come out and meet you. I didn’t catch the name from the man. She was waiting for us at the top of the wide marble stairway wearing a smock over her dress. “We’re delighted to find you,” said Elsie. “We thought you’d be pushing a pram by now.” “No, I’m still here,” she said, and immediately made it

clear that pushing a pram was not her ambition at the moment. “I want to go out to New Zealand,” she went on. “I’ve learned all I could about Maori artifacts at the university here and the British Museum, but it is not the same as being in the country where they come from. I’ve written to Dr. Falla of the Dominion Museum in Wellington and Dr. Duff of the Canterbury Museum. So far nothing has happened.” Irmgard explained that the museum was closed because a conference was being held there and they were preparing for it. She took us round and showed us how she had laid out the Reischek Collection and Captain Cook’s South Seas Collection, bought by the Austrians when it was put up for auction in London in 1820 and Baron Leopold von Fichtel seized the opportunity to get it.

Skipped The Crowns

After about an hour of inspecting the Polynesian exhibits with explanations from an expert who knew much more about them than we did I begged time off to see the Crown of Montezuma, the last of the Mexican emperors.

The Spanish conqueror of Mexico, Cortezuma, took it to Spain in the 16th century and it eventually reached Austria through the Hapsburg family which acquired control of the Holy Roman Empire. It is an American Indian headdress of rare blue birds’ feathers bound with gold. It was worth seeing again.

Vienna possesses the crown of the Holy Roman Empire as well. It dates back to the 9th century when Charlemagne was emperor of the West after Constantine the Great had established an Eastern capital of the Roman Empire at Byzantium. This crown is both intrinsically and historically priceless, and we were told that during the occupation the Russians

searched for it everywhere but could not find it. It is now kept in the Hofburg, the old Imperial Palace alongside the museum, close to the little chapel where the Viennese Boys’ Choir sing on Sunday mornings. Saw The Waitresses Irmgard told us that we should go and see the crown. But I whispered to Elsie: “We mustn't let Vienna get us down. We saw it when we were here before. And the solid gold cradle belonging to Napoleon. 1 want to relax. I want to see the pretty waitresses at Dr. Barry’s teashop.” We took our leave of Irmgard and I kissed her hand as Dr. Reischek had taught me to do on our previous visit when he took leave of Elsie. The girls at Dr. Barry’s teashop were not so pretty, or perhaps they to had grown older, but they knew their job. “Tee—in Teekanne,” I ordered, "mit heisses Wasser separat.” I still remembered how to get a pot of tea and some hot water. “Dankeschoen,” I said, and turned to Elsie. “A Fischring, a Fleischbombe, a Schinkenrolle, a Gemuese-Sandwiche?” Whatever we had it was a real gourmet’s snack. And the tea in Vienna is particularly good. “It must be the water from the Danube,” said Elsie, “from high up in the Alps.” The old newspaper woman at the door spotted us and brought ovqr a copy of the “Kourier.” But Elsie was anxious to get on. “I must see those baroque pillars again in the basement of the Upper Belvedere. Fantastic. We can catch a tram outside.” Kept As Reminders Instead, we turned at the corner where Kaertnering meets Schubertring and walked along till we came to the Russian War Memorial, the helmeted soldier erect on a column, the base with a semi-circular colonnade, the Russian letters of the inscription striking the eyes with their strangeness. A guard was pacing up and down. “You’d think they’d blow it up,” said Elsie. “The Viennese don’t blow up their monuments,” I told her. “They keep them as reminders. To commemorate their liberations. I understand that the Imperial French eagles erected by Napoleon still, in fact, stand above Schoenbrunn Palace.” The surrounding garden

made a fine place for young mothers to push their prams and for old ones to rest in the sun. We sat down on a seat. An old lady came and told me all about it. In German. The monument is guarded all the time. Night and day. It was the agreement that we signed with the Russians when they left Vienna. She was glad to have a sympathetic ear and made the most of it. But Elsie still had the Belvedere on her mind.

. “The gate is over there,” the old lady pointed out. "It is no distance at all.”

The gate we went through took us everywhere but to the Belvedere. We did find a palace and a large park, but it was the wrong one. Time was getting on and Elsie was in a hurry. “We can climb over this fence,” she said. “I know it’s up there somewhere . . . perhaps if we get up a tree ... we should have caught that tram. . . .’’ Some small boys came to our rescue. They spoke very good English. “We learn it at school,” they said. No. This was the Schwarzenberg palace. Private. They produced a huge key and let us through a gate in a high stone wall.

“Geschlossen!” said the man at the desk when we eventually arrived. I pointed out

that it was not yet 4.30. But no amount of arguing would soften him. “A touch of the Nazi still here in Vienna,” 1 said to Elsie, but she looked cheerful enough.

“I saw what I wanted to see,” she said happily. “The baroque pillars. I had a good look while you were doing your arguing. That's where the pillars are—in the basement. And it didn’t cost us a penny."

It cost more outside, though, when we were surrounded by hosts of small children, all very well-dressed. Elsie always said that the Viennese spoke German with a Irish accent, and the fresh young voices of these children had a delightful lilt that fell pleasantly on our ears.

Elsie turned out her handbag and produced some New Zealand coins. The silver threepence attracted them most. Maori meres on the back. Yes, we know ... we have some in the museum. And kiwis too . . . birds without any wings! Elsie smiled and looked at me. The spirit of Reischek lives on.

The picture below shows Dr. Irmgard Moscaner with some of the Maori artifacts in her care.