How could a place embody such contrasting histories? Schloss Emsburg, perched right here on the Hellbrunner Allee, has seen it all. It’s a place where the echoes of military might mingle with the quiet whispers of prayer. Schloss Emsburg first arose in the early 1600s, almost in tandem with its grand neighbor, Schloss Hellbrunn. It was a time when Salzburg flexed its might, and this palace was built for Johann Sigmund von Mabon, a man who practically embodied Salzburg’s military power. But power can change hands, and so did Schloss Emsburg. In 1701, it took on a dramatically different role. Archbishop Johann Ernst von Thun, a man of faith and strategy, gifted it to the newly formed Ruperti-Ritterorden, a knightly order. Imagine the transformation. Crosses, the symbol of the order, adorned every door and window, giving rise to its alternate name – Kreuzhof, the “Cross Court.” Within these walls, knights once gathered, their armor gleaming. But their time, like that of the archbishop’s, eventually faded. 1811 saw the order disbanded, and Schloss Emsburg passed into the hands of Stift St. Peter, a venerable monastery. This chapter, however, was also not meant to last. The call of private ownership proved too strong. In 1868, Schloss Emsburg found itself under the stewardship of Hugo Graf Lamberg, Salzburg’s governor. Its journey didn’t end there. In 1948, it became home to the Halleiner Schulschwestern, an order of Franciscan nuns dedicated to education. They say walls have ears. If that’s true, imagine the stories Schloss Emsburg could tell. Tales of military strategy, whispered prayers, and the quiet dedication of educators – all echoing within these very walls.
Центральный дом работников искусств
Step through the grand wooden doors of the Central House of the Workers of Art, and you’ll be transported to