Fake, But Sincere. Part One.

The Expat Bloggers's Meetup in Munich came around in September.  And it posed a paradox.

Several visitors said they would look forward to seeing Munich from the locals' point of view.  The real Munich.  Not the Munich of alpine kitsch and cutesy schmarm.  Not phony tourist traps with a gingerbread facade, and schmuck hanging from every eave. Not the fake Munich.

As one of the locals, a little shiver of panic went up my spine.  I mean, Bavarian culture actually is kitsch, even by German standards.  Take away the the Alps, the classic beer gardens, the palaces and the churches. You're left with....um, I dunno. BMW Welt?  The Hauptbahnhof?

Maybe I exaggerate.  Munich is a powerhouse of high tech, and a hub for avant-garde art in middle Europe.  The splendid Munich Daily Photo captures much of the city's extraordinary, vibrant culture.  A culture which integrates both heritage and modernity.

But the visitor's eye is drawn, inescapably, toward classic symbols.  The impossibly large beer steins, the lederhosen-clad people on the street, the ornate archtecture, the statuary, the noble boulevards.  And yes, the kitsch.

 None of that is fake.  People do wear Tracht as an alternative to business attire.  They tell time with cukoo clocks. They build houses with steep-pitched roofs, white walls, oak parquet and impossibly-fertile window boxes. They really do drink beer by the litre, and they sure as hell put cheese on everything.

Most cheesy, fairy-tale fakery in the modern world is modelled on the cheesy, fairy-tale reality of Bavaria.  Southeastern Germany exports many things, and the most  prominent is a mental picture of what cute should look like. 

An actual, not-fake hotel in Oberammergau.

Compare the actual Bavaria in the photo above with America's best phony Bavaria, below. Leavenworth, Washington, bids visitors a Herzlich Wilkommen on arrival and a hearty Bis Bald when they leave. And you know what?  They almost pull it off.

Close, but no Zigarre.

Fake credentials.

Anyway, headbang8 is the wrong person to judge what's real and what isn't. 

First, I work in advertising. 

Second, I'm an American of sorts, and I have a Japanese partner.  Both nations, from time to time, seem to prefer a good fake to the real thing.   Just ask Umberto Eco.  

What's up with this authenticity fetish?  Why do we look down on fakes?  Just because it's fake, doesn't mean it's wrong. Right?

Let's take a brief dip into the world of the fake.

Godzilla's Dildo.

A copy is a chance to improve on the original.  When Tokyo needed a TV transmitter in the late fifties, they built one in the shape of the Eiffel Tower.  Bucking the Japanese instinct for miniaturisation, they made it 13 metres taller.   And painted it orange, for safety's sake.

When we lived in Japan, Master Right and I could see the tower from our home.  How lucky we are to live in Tokyo, I thought!   We could enjoy this handsome, hazard-free landmark, rather than having to suffer the scrawny, colourless original, as we would if we lived in silly old Paris. 

When a fake fakes a fake

Neuschwanstein Castle weaves a perplexing tale of  false authenticity.

Most visitors to Bavaria want to see the "real" building whose image has been seared into our brains as the archetypal mediaeval fortress.  One in which fairy-tale characters frolicked, fought, or found love.  Disney acknowledges Neuschwanstein as inspiration for its theme parks. 

A story circulates about a Californian family visiting Neuschwanstein.  Standing before the drawbridge, the mother declared "There it is! Sleeping Beauty's palace!"

Her ten-year old son shook his head skeptically.  "Does Disney know about this?" he asked.

Neuschwanstein, getting a fakeover

And ask, he well might.  This castle is no more mediaeval than Groucho Marx, Sigmund Freud or Charlie Chaplin.

Completed in the late 1880s, Neuschwanstein was one of the many follies of King Ludwig II of Bavaria. 

(Yes, that king.   Texts describe him variously as manic-depressive, autistic, or gay.  Of the three, only one was considered a mental illness in the 19th century. Guess which?) 

A fake Ludwig, waiting to be installed at Oktoberfest 2009

The castle surprises visitors with its modernity.  Its kitchen would be considered up-to-date well into the twentieth century.  Wiggy even installed central heating—he planned flush toilets, too, but never lived to see them. 

In spite of it all, Neuschwanstein feels mediaeval; you expect a dragon to fly in and perch on a turret. 

Nobody can pin down which actual mediaeval castle served as the model for Neuschwanstein; the Burg Eltz comes close.  But somehow, the imitation seems as genuine as the real thing.

The picture below, of the marvellous Arizaphale and her Baby Angel on New Year's Day in 2002, is faked.  It was not taken at the real Disneyland.  It was taken at Tokyo Disneyland.  Which makes it a doubleplussgood fake.

The picture does not show Sleeping Beauty's castle.  It shows Cinderella's Castle, since Tokyo Disneyland is not a fake Disneyland, but rather, a fake Disney World. 

The Japanese designers chose to fake Cinderella's castle because it is larger than the original Sleeping Beauty's castle, which is in turn smaller than the original original at Neuschwanstein, which is much larger than the original original original at Burg Eltz.

(Interesting aside: check out the Cinderella Castle Suite at Disney World—here are some pictures of it.  Now that's fake.)

When it came time to design EuroDisney outside Paris, the tables turned. 

Every French schoolkid knows that Sleeping Beauty is a version of LaBelle au bois dormant, written by Charles Perrault in 1696.  The real Sleeping Beauty's Castle is the Château d'Ussé. 

According to Wikipedia —and why would they lie?—the designers of EuroDisney felt it necessary to fake more carefully.  In Europe, castles are, y'know, like everywhere.  They sought influence from more diverse and sophiticated sources, such as the monastery at  Mont San Michel.  Do French schoolchildren snigger when they visit EuroDisney, knowing that the Imagineers faked the wrong thing?

Faketabulous

Drag queens.  Are they not the ultimate example of fakes which are always often better than the originals? 

Like the city in which they live, Munich drag queens really lay it on with a trowel.  I caught this grande dame at the Hauptbahnhof, on her way to Fasching in 2008.

 
Ah, one could go on.  But for that, you'll need to wait for Part Two, where we trace another path of fakery from Bavaria to Japan, and back again. Bis bald.

Comments

[nursemyra]

hmmm.... maybe your best post yet. And I LOVE the drag queen's outfit

[headbang8]

Yes, and BOY, could she move fast! I had to chase her for about ten minutes before I caught up.

[Kevin C Jones]

Can you check out the myth that Austria has a special zoo of kangaroos for the geographically challenged?
Also, I heard that Schwartzenegger was turned down for revoicing the German versions of the Terminator movies because his Austrian accent made him sound like a "farmer".

[headbang8]

The first is wrong. Though there are many kangaroos in Austrian zoos, including a rare albino one.

http://www.ananova.com/news/story/sm_1337740.html

There is, however, an Austrian cuisine restaurant in Berlin called No Kangaroos. Presumably, kangaroo is not on the menu.

http://www.tripsbytips.de/reisetipp/no-kangaroo/10148958.html

Yes, German actor Thomas Danneberg dubs Schwarzenegger's films, because his Austrian accent is "not suitable". I'm sure this is code for "sounds like a hick", since the Austrian accent, to Germans, is totally hillbilly (Alpwilli?)

Danneberg is a hugely popular actor for dubbing foreign films. He not only does Schwarzenegger, but Stallone, Travolta, Dan Ackroyd, John Cleese, and Tommy Chong, of Cheech and Chong fame.

http://www.synchronkartei.de/?action=show&type=talker&id=113

[CN Heidelberg]

I guess my idea of being in a "fake" place or "fake" area of the city (in the case of Munich, because I didn't feel that way everywhere there) is when I am in a place completely surrounded by tourists. I can't help in that case to question the place. It's some kind of automatic reaction. I guess I'm just a sad, sad poster child for "Stuff White People Like". After all, it's not the fault of a place if it draws a lot of tourists. Even when I visited the Cliffs of Moher I had to stop myself from a somewhat negative reaction because of the big fancy viewing area and visitor center that had been built. If it hadn't been there, I could totally pretend I'd just stumbled upon this awesome cliff (despite knowing damn well I hadn't). It felt like it was there to be looked at rather than just there. Even though, obviously, as a work of nature, it really is just there. Anything filled with tourists feels like a place just to be looked at if I don't gain some broader experience with it. That's why I always try to get a little more experience in a place. At the Cliffs, we drove out to a place with no visitor center and went up to the edge and just appreciated it for being there for no reason, not for being there to be gawked at. Even though we were gawking, yes. The lack of logic is clear to me, too. In cities I try to hit more neighborhoods that have more than tourists around. Obviously I've come to see Heidelberg as a "real" place despite all the tourists. But, in Heidelberg there is not that much mixing of places tourists go and places locals go (there are some cases, yes). Is that really not the case in Munich?

If this makes me some kind of poser in search of "authenticity" so be it. I have thought about this a lot of the last three years of travel and haven't been able to suppress these feelings that much. I have friends who, for example, won't eat at a foreign restaurant with English on the menu, so I guess I could be worse. ;)

[damon]

"What's up with this authenticity fetish? Why do we look down on fakes? Just because it's fake, doesn't mean it's wrong. Right?"

I realize these questions were rhetorical, but I thought I'd try to address them anyways since it's always fun to have a challenge. With respect to the last question, I don't personally find anything wrong with fakes per se, but in some cases I see them as inferior to the originals. I suspect this may be true for many people. There are several fairly complicated reasons underlying this feeling. One reason is that our basic psychology suggests that things that have been touched (or blessed or spat upon or whatever) have gained some sort of metaphysical or spiritual property. For example, most people wouldn't have a problem wearing a used suit that had only been worn once, but even if they don't believe in the supernatural at all, they probably wouldn't wear that same suit if they learned it was worn by a murderer on the night he killed someone. In a similar way, many people wear fashions or jewelry or whatever that their favorite movie or music or sports star also wears--and these objects gain some sort of extra coolness if said star has actually worn that exact object. I suspect the admiration that many people show for the old, authentic buildings (or art or jewelry or whatever) is based on a similar impulse. For example, I greatly admire gothic and romanesque churches. They are often marvelous structures with intricate carvings (and if one is lucky paintings), which are not always strictly Christian. I admire the people of many cities that decided to rebuild these churches after they were destroyed (e.g. in the second world war). However, for whatever deep-seeded reason, a building often loses a little bit of that magical sparkle in my eyes when I find out it was rebuilt.

Another reason I have a problem with some non-authentic things is that I don't like being duped, and some fake things are blatently trying to dupe me. I don't have a problem with Neuschwanstein (although I think it's inferior to places like Burg Eltz). When Ludwig II built it, he wanted to build a medieval castle because he like them (and who can blame him?). He didn't build it for the express purpose of making money off of tourists like the Sleeping Beauty castle in Disney World. Similarly, I figure the Japanese just liked the Eiffel tower and wanted one of their own. The same is true of restaurants. I don't mind going to an expensive German (or Czech or French or whatever depending on the country) restaurants. I like German (or whatever) food, but I start to get suspicious if the place looks like it's blatantly catering to tourists. It might be that they're just looking to fleece me and pass off some substandard imitation.

I can think of more reasons for a preference for the authentic, but I risk exposing myself as a fraud ;)

[headbang8]

Goodness! I appear to have caused quite some deliberation in Heidelberg...and I greatly appreciate the thoughtful responses from you and CN.

The questions were, indeed rhetorical. And my pro-fake stance is a bit of a lark, adopted for a few chuckles. But I must confess, C's humble note on our bulletin board, all those months ago, did cause me to think.

"When Ludwig II built [Neuschwanstein], he wanted to build a medieval castle because he liked them (and who can blame him?)"

In Victorian times, it was fashionable for a grand country house to have the ruins of the original mediaeval castle or church in the backyard. If your estate (and your money) was new, you could build a "folly ruin". (The Minories in Colchester has one of these)

I recall the Major General in The Pirates of Penzance, whose character is that ofthe classic arriviste. He liked to wander in the ruins of the chapel on his estate, among the graves of his ancestors. When reminded of the fact that he only bought the estate the previous year, he replied, "I don't care whose ancestors they were, they're mine now!"

Love to both you and C, BTW.

[CN Heidelberg]

I admit feeling bad about my comment because if someone told me they wanted to see the real, non-touristy Heidelberg, I think I might be in trouble, too. The tourist HD is pretty intertwined with the local HD.

But anyway, like I said, we think about this all the time - always trying to determine why it is we are/aren't impressed by the latest thing we visited, all research going into making our next trip even better. ;) If you google tourists seeking authenticity there's tons of stuff out there about it - and according to it, we're being marketed to just as much as those who are cool with explicitly tourist-oriented stuff. So we're not getting out of being suckers, either, despite our attempts! (Apparently there's a lot more money to be had from the not-necessarily-seeking-authenticity-tourists, though.)

[arizaphale]

I wish Adelaide had something fake and touristy to show people. Oh well. There's always Windy Point.

[Kevin C Jones]

Often people in Australia cannot see above street level. I took a cab driver of 26 years driving in Melbourne for tour of the inner city to show him the rich art deco if only you look up.

[Kevin C Jones]

The Myer Centre is the worst. Ruthven Mansions where I used to live and surrounds used to be the best. The Botanic Gardens etc.

[A Free Man]

I'm going to start describing myself as an American of sorts. As Americans (of sorts) we are woefully qualified to discourse on fakery. The entire concept of our homeland is a fake. Of sorts.

[Kevin C Jones]

If an American-born woman who arrived in 1994 can become Premier of NSW in 2009, I give up.
I arrived in 1968 and was denied a lot because of my accent. So was hb8.
Well, we'll have to swallow the American-Australian co-descriptor along with the Irish, Sudanese, Scots, Laotions, etc
We are not special any more. My American mother is dying in a nursing home far superiour than what she would get in Texas.