I always have a good time in Vienna, the gorgeous, self-satisfied, monstrously overwrought imperial core of an empire that no longer exists: a gloss of modern-day tourist nostalgia layered on postwar trauma layered on fascist mid-century horrors layered on even worse postwar trauma layered on centuries and centuries of further fascinating history.* Last week, for the first time, I actually went to its tram museum, which was an unexpected treat for both personal and OUBLIETTE reasons. Continue reading Art, life, reflections