BackDresden, Germany | Back from the dust
Much of this city was razed during World War II. Today Soviet-style ugliness coexists with Renaissance grandeur here
Premium
Cyclists whizzed past atop the Augustusbrücke (Bridge of Augustus). Pedestrians’ heels clicked on the cobblestoned road. As I gazed across the water, I could not imagine that every one of the sandstone buildings in front of me had been reduced to a heap of rubble in a single night over half a century ago—and that the city had risen, quite literally, from the dust since then.
I was in Dresden, Germany. Under the cover of a moonless night on 13 February 1945, more than 700 British Royal Air Force and over 500 US Air Force bombers dropped nearly 4,000 tonnes of explosives and incendiary devices on this city. At least 25,000 people were killed (the Third Reich, or Nazi Germany, propaganda said 200,000 and some historians put the figure as high as over 500,000). What was indisputable was that more than 15 sq. miles (around 39 sq. km) of the city centre lay in rubble.
I had first heard about Dresden from a German friend. I had read extensively about the World War, and had always been fascinated by stories from the defining battles of that time. And so when I decided to visit Germany last year, I had no second thoughts about putting Dresden on my itinerary. I wanted to see for myself the city whose destruction—and resuscitation—I had read so much about. I wanted to see how an entire city that had been chock-full of Renaissance- and Baroque-style buildings had first become a heap of rubble, and then healed its scars and grown into a rejuvenated city.
******
At the time of the 1945 bombing, this entire neighbourhood had been full of villas and houses, all built in the Baroque style. Next to the remains of the Jewish quarter sat a building that had come up after the war to replace the destroyed mansions.
Yet this building, called Kulturpalast (Palace of Culture), did not cheer my heart either. It had a cuboidal surface, with flat walls and hardly any relief or etched details. It was made of concrete, and was painted a monochromatic grey. The adjective “Soviet-styled" sprang to mind.
This was a depressing beginning to my journey. I had come to find a city of hope and rejuvenation—but my first two stops had only presented dreariness and gloom. Would the rest of the city make me feel any better?
I walked by A3-size glossy posters pasted outside the Kulturpalast—with images of musicians, stage settings and performers, for it is today an auditorium that hosts concerts and stage performances.
******
I sighed with relief as I saw a mix of Baroque, Renaissance and Classical styles packing its façade. The castle had not only been rebuilt in its original style after its destruction, but its the subtlest details had been preserved—no doubt at great cost.
Inside the castle, I headed towards the historic Green Vault and the New Green Vault, a series of rooms housing possibly Europe’s largest collection of royal art, artefacts and jewellery. While the original rooms themselves had been destroyed during the bombing, the treasures had been salvaged because they were transported to Königstein Fortress, a hilltop fort 35km south-east of Dresden. After the war, they had been brought back to the reconstructed castle.
In one of the rooms in the New Green Vault, I saw the Dresden Green Diamond, a massive diamond in a setting of gold, worked into a hat clasp that made my eyes widen with amazement. I walked on towards a tableau called The Court of Aurangzeb, a representation of how European monarchs imagined their Indian counterparts. I shuddered to think of the fate they had narrowly escaped, and how close they had come to being completely destroyed. These exhibits were life-affirming.
******
I walked to the iconic Frauenkirche, Church of Our Lady, with its towering dome and golden cross, which had been left in its destroyed form by the East German government as a symbol of British aggression, and was reconstructed with the help of funds raised by a couple of Dresden residents from the international community and thrown open in 2005.
As I stood beside the Frauenkirche’s quiet walls, two girls from a local opera school used its courtyard and façade to throw their voices, rendering a haunting and captivating opera piece to the accompaniment of a lone keyboard.
All around, pavement cafés, restaurants and bars buzzed with energy. Soon, the final notes of the opera died down, the girls walked out, and silence shrouded me again.
Unlock a world of Benefits! From insightful newsletters to real-time stock tracking, breaking news and a personalized newsfeed – it's all here, just a click away! Login Now!
