Dreams of Vienna at the Hotel Imperial

FrommerLuxuryTravel Myrna Katz Frommer and Harvey Frommer

Admittedly our expectations were high. "The best in Vienna," they said. "Sensational!" "Beyond compare!" So we were ready to be impressed, albeit with a trace of the old ennui. And then we stepped through the revolving doors, looked up to the light, and nearly swooned.

Many hotels are called palatial. But the Imperial actually was the palace of the Prince of Württemberg, husband of a grandniece of Emperor Franz Joseph. He was a German who fought with the Austrians against the Germans, came to Vienna after the war and built himself a palace. This was not too long after the city walls had come down and magnificent buildings had come up along the Ring Road in the classical and renaissance style, the prince's palace being one among them. Apparently he had good as well as expensive taste (although it's believed the bride's father footed the bill). But he gambled a lot, lost a lot, and within two years had run out of money.

About a decade later when the World Exhibition was held in Vienna, there weren't many hotels in the city, but there was that splendid unoccupied palace the prince had vacated long ago.  Accordingly, the Hotel Imperial was inaugurated in April of 1873; it has remained the city's premier property ever since.

But you don't need to know the history to recognize this is one legitimate palace. The lavish details and noble materials, the breath-taking stairway enclosed by faux-marble walls (the faux being more precious than the real thing because the application was such a prized and specialized art) that leads straight up from the lobby to the Bel-Etage where a life-sized statue of the Danube Nymph, a kind of Austrian Lorelei, stands beneath an enormous oil painting of Emperor Franz Joseph, the high-ceilinged, color-themed 76 guest rooms and 62 suites with ornamental plasterwork (virtually a lost art today), Persian carpets, antiques, original art, and, of course, an abundance of chandeliers are evidence enough.

Restaurant Imperial continues the regal theme. It is a formal, elegant space; tables covered in fine linens are laden with an abundance of gleaming silver plates and flatware and bowls of fragrant roses. The service befits the setting from the head waiter who describes in detail a  menu of Austrian and international specialties, to the sommelier who patiently and expertly advises on the suitable wines, to the many attendants who refill water glasses, clear at just the right moment, present dishes with efficiency and aplomb. As one would expect, the food lives up to the setting as well -- in our case, a salad based on a layer of sliced potatoes covered with raddichio, carrots, tomatoes and paper-thin slices of cucumber in a vinaigrette, creamy lobster soup to which a server added a bit of cognac from a heated pitcher, perch with Jerusalem artichokes, and filet of salmon over freshly made tagliarini with beets and celery. We drank a crisp and dry 2006 Morillon (Austrian Chardonnay) from the Manfred Tement vineyard in Berghausen. And from among the wealth of Viennese desserts, indulged in cream-white bread strudel with white curd ice cream and poppy-seed strudel with poppy ice cream. The experience was, in a word, imperial.

And yet in this multi-faceted property, luxury defines only part of the experience. Down a corridor off the palatial lobby, the Imperial Café embodies a different ambience, one of comfort, bonhomie, a Viennese coffee-house culture. There is a chandelier here too -- only it resembles  the explosive "Starburst" created by Lobmeyr for New York City's Metropolitan Opera House, an allusion to the dawning of the space age. Otherwise the dining room has a warm, traditional feel with blue banquettes and windows that look out to the street. It is a fond and familiar gathering spot for journalists and politicians who maintain a steady, lively buzz. At the same time, it is the kind of place where one can take a newspaper from the large wooden rack near the entrance and spend a couple of hours in solitude reading the news of the day over a cup of Viennese coffee and the world-famous Imperial Torte.

We had arranged to meet Petra Engl-Wurzer for lunch at the Café, although when we first saw the tall and slender, elegantly dressed young woman with the stylish blonde bob headed towards our table, we thought she was a high-fashion model who had just completed a shoot.

“I was born near the Italian border and came to Vienna as a student,” Petra said after  convincing us she was indeed the woman we were expecting, namely public relations director for Starwood Properties in Austria, and the three of us delved into the basket of rolls placed before us –warm salt sticks, twists doused with poppy, sesame, or pumpkin seeds, dark wheat buns with a hint of sour dough. “I loved the city from the start. It is full of culture -- concert halls and opera houses, museums, theaters. Every day in Vienna there is something to experience. And this hotel is very much a part of it.

"When Kennedy met Khrushchev in Vienna, Khrushchev had a suite at the Imperial. Since it was the Cold War, the two of them could not be staying under the same roof so Kennedy had to stay at the Embassy. It's believed he was not very happy about it."

Petra speaks in paragraphs. She  pauses just long enough to take a quick breath and switches to a new topic altogether. "There is the incredible connection between the hotel and music," she now tells us. "So many of the great maestros and musicians have been guests. In 1875, Richard Wagner was here for a few weeks; he gave a big dinner for his sponsors.

Before we had a chance to react, he continued, "I know all the conductors so believe me when I tell you how lucky you were to see him. He is Italian, very emotional. When he conducts, he is completely somewhere else. He exhausts himself."      

Who is this man, we wondered.  A manager of one of the musicians? A critic?  A composer?  "No," he demurred, "just someone with a lot of money who loves music and  gets to know great musicians so he can help them out. You could call me a patron of the arts."  And with that, he returned to his wienerschnitzel and beer, leaving us to mull over the strangeness of encountering a modern Medici in a Viennese café.

But there is nothing strange about encountering Michael Moser at the Hotel Imperial. The genial chief concierge with the warm and inviting smile is generally behind the concierge desk where, in addition to his other duties, he has been the resident expert on Vienna's musical scene for many years.

"I think Vienna attracts people primarily for its music," he told us. "We are known as the capital of music. There is so much tradition: Beethoven, Mozart, Haydn, Johann Strauss -- both father and son, Brahms, Schubert.

"I go to the performances very often.  I know every maestro. I know every performance. Many guests will call me and ask 'Is this something I will like? Should I go?'  And I give them my honest opinion. Sometimes we have rather modern productions; I can tell whether a particular guest will like it or not."

It was from Michael Moser that we learned Vienna has two major orchestras: the Vienna Symphony which we heard and the Vienna Philharmonic which performs every evening at the Opera House a few blocks away and at the Musikverein Saturday afternoons and Sunday mornings. "If you want a subscription to the Sunday morning concert series, you will have to wait ten years," he said. "The Vienna Symphony is the basis of Viennese music, sponsored by the city. They perform most of the cultural concerts in Vienna. The Philharmonic is more rare. They have no sponsor; the musicians run it themselves."

Michael Moser can tell you about Arturo Toscanini and his daughter Wanda when they were guests at the Imperial, how the conductor would get angry with the orchestra and break his baton when he thought they weren't playing well.

Michael Moser can tell you about Gustav Mahler and Leonard Bernstein. "Mahler was not very popular in Vienna until Leonard Bernstein came here in the 1960s," the chief concierge said. "He started leading the Vienna Philharmonic in a Mahler  work, and they played it indifferently. At a certain point, he stopped conducting abruptly. 'Gentlemen, this is your music.  Mahler was Viennese; he was born here in Vienna,' he told them.  From then on, Vienna started playing and appreciating Mahler. And of course, today Mahler is so well regarded, one of the greats."

But we only know the English version: "I hear you calling me/Lovely Vienna so gay, so free," it begins. And it ends with a promise we hope to keep: "Someday the dream that I dream will come true/And I'll come back to you."

Hotel Imperial
Kärntner Ring 16
1015 Vienna, Austria
Phone: 01 501100 

Photographs by Harvey Frommer