You'll love this centuries-old merchant city
Approaching Leipzig by rail across the low-lying plains of Saxony provides only very inadequate preparation for the arrival itself. After some two hours of passing through picturesque villages, fields and farms, the train pulls in to what the guidebook calls the largest railway terminal in Europe. No less than 26 platforms open out onto a huge expanse of arches, flagstones and windows and one wonders what on earth Leipzig has—or had—to offer that called for such extravagance. The fact that there are not an overwhelming number of sights to visit in Leipzig is part of its charm. Like the proverbial pearls on a string, Leipzig’s treasures can be picked off one by one—and the process of discovery is both charming and enlightening. A good place to start is indeed the Central Train Station, situated in the northeastern corner of the city, just outside the ring road, which marks the former fortifications of the Old Town. Transport played an important role in the development of the region. Two major rivers converge in this area, making the slightly elevated site an accessible and fertile place; indeed the area was already well populated during the Bronze Age. The town of Lipsk (named after its linden trees) was founded around AD 700 by Slavs and later repopulated by Germanic tribes at a major crossroads: the east-west route of the Via Regia connecting the Rhineland with the Kingdom of Thuringia and the Via Imperii, Germany’s most important trade route for the transport of goods from the Baltic to the Adriatic Sea. Its advantageous location gave rise to a prosperous and confident merchant class, with a deep-seated appreciation of civic virtues. In the late 12th century, Margrave Otto von Meissen was so taken with this spot and its inhabitants that he granted the city its town charter—the first in his territory. He also bestowed market privileges on Leipzig, banning fairs from taking place in the surrounding countryside within a 14-km radius. (Emperor Maximilian extended this limit in the early 16th century to 225 km). From 1190 onwards, two Messen, or fairs, were held annually, at Easter and Michaelmas, and the winds stood fair for prosperity—and remain so to this day. Directly across the ring road from the station the Nikolaistrasse and Brühl Strasse are both flanked by patrician houses, many of them built by the furriers, whose businesses helped make the city fashionable and world-famous. Leipzig established its own furriers’ guild in 1423, a full two-and-a-half centuries before the Hudson Bay Company was founded. The old houses have showrooms on the ground floor and living quarters above, marked by sumptuous stonework on the facades above imposing arches that lead into the courtyard and surrounding workshops. If you listen carefully, you may even be able to hear the sound of hoofs on cobble stones as coaches and carriages laden with mink, fox, beaver and sable pull in and out. The Nikolaikirche, which stands at the end of Nikolaistrasse on its own little square, was consecrated in 1175 as a market church, dedicated to the patron saint of travelers and merchants. Since then it has undergone several phases of refurbishment, yet the mixture of Romanesque, Gothic, Baroque and Neoclassical elements in the interior does not jar and the building exudes the happy harmony between individual and communal endeavor that epitomizes Leipzig’s strength and characterizes its success. The somewhat shabby chic wooden pews, painted white with numbered brass seating plaques for each churchgoer, are lovingly worn along the edges from years of use. Massive white columns, as solid as the Christian virtues, rise like palms to vaults of abundant stone foliage. The church’s most famous hour struck in the 1980s, when it became the meeting place of political dissidents—many of whom were not Christians—who gathered here on Monday evenings initially to protest the arms race. By 1988, the focus of these meetings had shifted to an emotionally charged but peaceful expression of discontent with the East German communist regime, attracting widespread attention from the media. Thousands congregated in and outside the church and images of their flickering candles went round the world—the sign of a powerful force for change. The Nikolaikirche became known as the cradle of the Peaceful Revolution and helped pave the way for German reunification. If you have time, pop in for a chat with the clerk in the souvenir and postcard store: he is also a city guide and with a little encouragement, he’ll give you a concise history and recommendations for viewing the city. Across the road from the church’s main entrance is Specks Hof. These pedestrian arcades were initially conceived as exhibition premises that offered far more viewing space than the traditional shop front. Constructed in 1909 and extended in 1912, Specks Hof was once the largest trading house of its day, with 10,000 square meters of exhibition space. Nowadays, the happy shopper can escape the elements and meander through discreetly lit and finely decorated passages, indulging in some real or virtual consumerism, depending on his or her budget. Failing that, the wrought-iron work also deserves attention. Leaving Specks Hof and bypassing (unless it really is raining) the old Museum of Art on the old Via Imperii (Reichsstrasse), the next gem on the agenda is the Naschmarkt, bordered on its western side by the spectacular Old City Hall and on the north by the Old Stock Exchange. Both are wonderful architectural examples of their period. The Old City Hall was constructed in record time between two fairs in 1556–57—a testimony to the 16th-century boom in Leipzig during which the population more than doubled, from 9,000 to 20,000, largely as a result of income from the silver mines in the nearby Erzgebirge. The ambitious mayor and municipal builder Hieronymus Lotter envisaged a long, fairly narrow building. Stone arcades at ground level for traders were surmounted by meeting rooms and topped with three-tiered gables, one of which was replaced by a tower, not in the middle but at the northern end of the building, creating an asymmetrical effect. The tower features an “announcement balcony,” where the town crier would impart important information, aided by a few trumpeters, who also had their own little balcony. It is currently in spick and span condition, recently painted in a warm yellow that offsets the red tones of the roof tiles. Shortly after its completion, however, construction faults began to appear, resulting in the need for a thorough renovation just over a century later—and also in the coining of the German term “verlottert,” now used to describe a general process of dilapidation in memory of an over-hasty builder. In stark contrast to the Renaissance charm of its neighbor, the Old Stock Exchange next door is a Baroque wedding-cake cube of white with yellow icing, built in the second half of the 17th century as a fitting setting for the conclusion of business deals. The town fathers decided in the late 19th century to locate a statue of Johann Wolfgang von Goethe in front of the Old Stock Exchange—not that Goethe ever seems to have displayed more than a passing interest in commerce. He did, however, spend the first two of his student years in Leipzig, from 1765 to 1768, apparently traversing the habitual rites of passage: falling in love (with the daughter of a well-known local painter) and spending too much time in taverns. In his defense it must be said that his observations of excessive alcohol consumption metamorphosed into one of the most famous episodes in German drama: that of Auerbachs Keller in Goethe’s Faust. In the scene, the title figure visits a wine cellar in Leipzig accompanied by Mephistopheles, who bedazzles the locals with some demonic hocus pocus. The restaurant and wine cellar still exist and are well worth a visit. They were initially founded in the 1530s by a doctor, Heinrich Stromer von Auerbach, Professor of Pathology and Dean of the Medical Faculty at Leipzig’s university. One of his more famous disputations concerned drunkenness—and he appears to have put his knowledge to profitable use by opening an inn for traders and merchants. It is likely that the historical figure Dr. Faustus visited the premises in the 16th century and that his visit inspired the encounter in Goethe’s play. It was certainly good publicity. The inn still has a chit signed by the dramatist, acknowledging receipt of good wine sent to him by the proprietor in grateful recognition of services rendered. To find the cellar, just follow the statue’s stony gaze across the old east-west trading route, now the Grimmaische Strasse, and into the Mädler Passage. Stairs lead down to the left and the right into a cavernous hall with spacious booths lining the walls with leather benches. The lighting is suitably dim, the food excellent (no deviled eggs though) and the atmosphere altogether rather special. It’s probably as well to fortify oneself before surfacing into the Mädler Passage. The prices in these most exclusive of Leipzig’s boutiques are staggering. These, too, were once exhibition premises, as were several of the impressive trading houses on Peters Strasse, leading from the arcades to the Thomasgasse from where it is only a short turn to the left to the home of Leipzig’s most famous export article: music. Here is the Thomaskirche, built on the site of an Augustinian monastery from the 14th century onwards, now home to possibly the most famous boys’ choir in the world: the Thomanerchor, which boasts a nearly 800-year tradition. Its most famous choirmaster or cantor was another luminary in the German cultural landscape: Johann Sebastian Bach, who lived and taught here from 1723 to 1750 and whose grave was relocated to the church choir in 1950. Sitting in the modest, almost homely Protestant Neo-Gothic church, it is easy to imagine the stout composer, possibly with his wig a little askew, dealing with 50-some unruly boys. His time here was fruitful but not particularly happy and it appears that his duties as choirmaster did little to raise his spirits. The church now houses an organ specially built to play Bach’s organ pieces the way he intended. If you’re lucky, you might hear the organist practicing in the hour before the church closes at six. To be sure you get to hear the choir, go on Friday or Saturday, when weekly performances of Bach’s motets and cantatas are given within the framework of Motette and Saturday worship services. Anyone with extra time and interest might want to visit the residences of the composers Felix Mendelssohn and Robert Schumann, which, however, are not located in the Old Town. (Richard Wagner was also born here: not surprisingly, in light of his association with National Socialism, little was made of this fact under the “anti-fascist” GDR regime). Schumann and his wife spent the early years of their married life here but it was Mendelssohn who played the more important role. His fascination with Bach’s works and their interpretation led to a revival of interest in the composer that has continued unabated. He was also the musical director of Leipzig’s flagship orchestra at the Gewandhaus. In the 1740s, 16 Leipzig merchants founded the first German concert hall—succeeded 40 years later by the Gewandhaus itself, appropriately named after the textile manufacturers’ exhibition palace where it performed. If you have time, visit the current concert hall—the third in the orchestra’s illustrious history, completed in 1981 with state-of-the-art acoustics featuring a mere two-second reverberation and some very 1970s lighting! Two further buildings of note in this south-eastern corner of the Old Town are the Moritzbastei, the last remaining bastion of the former city wall, now turned into a huge club by university students with extra time on their hands, and the university itself, a skyscraper affectionately referred to by the locals as “the wisdom tooth.” Although you will have a hard time envisaging the likes of Goethe (and Schiller, Leibniz, Nieztsche and, more recently, the Nobel Prize winner Werner Heisenberg) in the now modern halls of their alma mater, the view from the café at the top is superb. The combined legacy of an illustrious academic and commercial past led to a thriving publishing industry, which, although largely “outsourced” today, is still ably represented by a beautiful, visitor-friendly museum. If you’ve stayed in the old part of the city, it’s time now to wend your way back to the Old City Hall and the Market Square. You’ll pass the Königshaus, where Peter the Great stayed and Napoleon bid farewell to the city and the Saxons who had—somewhat unfortunately as it turned out—supported the French against the combined forces of the Allied European armies during the Battle of the Nations just south of Leipzig in 1813. The Old Weigh House on the northern side of the Market was used for weighing the carriages and carts that entered the city. This process died out with the industrial revolution, when samples of mass-produced goods were brought to the city instead of the goods themselves. In a city defined by its business fortunes and self-assured citizens, the changes in production during the 19th century, which made many locals unemployed, were bound to leave their mark. It was here that Ferdinand Lasalle founded the first German Workers’ Movement, while August Bebel and Wilhelm Liebknecht, early Social Democrats, were active here in the 1870s. Liebknecht’s son, Karl, who later cofounded the forerunner of the German Communist Party, the Spartakusbund, was born here in 1871. That’s a lot of history and sightseeing for a city of just under half-a-million inhabitants. But Leipzig has never been one to hide its lights under a bushel. Just recently, the city put in its bid to stage the 2012 Olympic Games—alongside New York, London, Paris, Moscow and Rio de Janeiro! It seems unlikely to succeed, but has made its case with great verve and professionalism: think big is one motto that comes to mind—which brings us back to the Central Train Station. Who knows? Maybe those 26 platforms will come in pretty handy one day. For details on the world-famous Leipzig Book Fair, held every year in March, see the News & Views section.