Vienna, Prague, Dresden: Spring sun caresses the roofs

The sun shines on the old roofs of Vienna, Dresden, and Prague. A gentle spring breeze makes me wonder: Is Beethoven already preparing for his departure to Prague in April?

His second life since January 8 shows him differently than expected: more withdrawn, even deafer, and overwhelmed by all the noise and impressions of our time, secluded like in his last years. He now composes with words instead of notes, seeks tranquility, and avoids people. He has visited Heiligenstadt, yes, and also his grave – but he mostly avoids places from his past. Instead, he is fascinated by places where his work lives on, like Gustav Klimt's Beethoven Frieze.

What concerns me: He has completed his first 'Word Symphony' – a wild, torn work of chaos, which he has revised once more. With that, he feels ready for the first stage of the journey. Leaving Vienna behind, rediscovering Prague as a living man in 2026. In my mind, I talk to him. I imagine we are sitting in a Viennese coffee house. In front of me, an espresso, in front of him a strong coffee, his gaze grim.

'Wallburger', he suddenly says with a rough voice, 'Prague in April – where should I go first? To the Vyšehrad Park with a view of the Vltava? Or later to the spa park in Teplice, on the way to Dresden?' I ponder. Does he really go, or does he turn back? 'Master, the sun shines on ruins and forests. Vyšehrad has this tranquility and the sound of the river. Teplice with its hot springs and trees – you worked there before and hoped for a healthier life.'

He remains silent for a long time and looks at me. „The ruins maybe, Wallburger. Vyšehrad? We'll see. Teplitz... the forests there help to clear the mind. Not because of Goethe. I just need silence, no crowding.' 

„And Klimt's frieze? All the people in Vienna and Prague?' I ask quietly.

„The golden picture', he grumbles, „they painted my struggle, not myself. That's good. But the world today? Too bright, too loud – flashing lights everywhere instead of calm candles. Write down: After my new work, I seek parks, not large halls. I am ready to travel – with words instead of music.'

I feel the uncertainty: This inner exchange remains open, full of questions. The sun beckons: Vienna as the start, Dresden my home, Prague the destination. He sets off. I, the tour guide, follow him – curious where it will go.