Albertina

Stand at the foot of the old stone ramp for a moment and listen. Trams squeal around the corner by the Opera. Horse hooves click on the cobbles as the carriages pass. Above you, a long, thin blade of a roof juts out into the air, as if the building is pushing its chin forward over the street. This is the Albertina, one of the great art museums of Vienna. It sits higher than everything around it, on a raised platform of stone.

That platform is the first surprise. You are standing beside one of the last surviving pieces of the old city walls. For centuries, Vienna was ringed by heavy fortifications. These walls protected the city from Ottoman armies and other threats. In the nineteenth century, almost all of them were torn down to make way for the Ringstrasse, the grand boulevard that now circles the old town. This section, the Augustinian Bastion, survived. The palace on top of it survived too.

The museum takes its name from a man, not a woman. Duke Albert of Saxe-Teschen was married to Archduchess Maria Christina, a favourite daughter of the Empress Maria Theresa. Albert was a passionate collector of drawings and prints. He began gathering them in the late eighteenth century, and the museum traces its founding to 1776. His goal was ambitious. He wanted a collection that would show the whole story of European art on paper.

He came remarkably close. Today the Albertina holds one of the largest collections of graphic art anywhere in the world. Experts count around a million prints and tens of thousands of drawings. There are works by Michelangelo, Raphael, Rembrandt, Rubens and Klimt. Paper is fragile, though. It fades in light, so most of these treasures rest in dark storage rooms. Only a small part of the collection is on display at any one time.

This brings us to the second surprise. Two of the most famous images in the collection are by Albrecht Dürer, the German master of the Renaissance. One is the Young Hare, painted in watercolour in 1502. Every hair of its fur seems to catch the light. The other is the drawing known as the Praying Hands. Many visitors arrive hoping to see them. Usually, they cannot. These originals are shown only rarely, and for short periods, to protect them from damage.

So what can you see? Upstairs are the Habsburg State Rooms. These were the private apartments of the palace, and they were carefully restored and reopened in 2008. Here you walk through rooms of silk on the walls, gilded furniture and polished parquet floors. The colours are soft — pale greens, yellows and creams. Look closely at the floors. The wood is laid in patterns that change from room to room.

The palace did not begin with Albert. An earlier aristocratic building stood here in the eighteenth century. Albert and Maria Christina took it over and expanded it. Later, it passed to their adopted son, Archduke Charles. He was a military commander who defeated Napoleon's army at the Battle of Aspern in 1809. That was a famous moment, because it was one of Napoleon's first major defeats in the field. The family kept living here into the twentieth century.

Outside, on the bastion, a bronze rider sits on a horse. This is Archduke Albrecht, the son of Charles, and also a military man. Below him, built into the wall of the ramp, is a large fountain from the late nineteenth century. Its stone figures represent the rivers of the Habsburg lands, with the Danube at the centre. Many people walk past it on their way to the entrance. It is worth turning around to look.

Now look at the walls of the palace itself. Do they seem plain for a royal residence? There is a reason. The building was hit by bombs near the end of the Second World War. In the years of repair that followed, much of the old decoration on the façade was removed rather than rebuilt. Old photographs show a far richer exterior. What you see now is a quieter, simplified version of the original palace.

That sharp roof above the entrance is the newest layer. It was designed by the Austrian architect Hans Hollein and completed in the early 2000s. People call it the flying roof. It is clad in metal and stretches far out over the ramp, without any visible support at its tip. Some Viennese loved it from the start. Others found it far too bold beside the old stone. It still divides opinion today.

Inside, the museum is not only about old paper. A permanent display traces the story of modern art, from French Impressionism to Picasso. You can see works by Monet, Degas, Cézanne and Chagall, among others. The museum also holds large temporary exhibitions. These often bring paintings and photographs from collections around the world. The mix is part of the character of the place. A quiet Renaissance drawing can sit just a few rooms away from a loud modern canvas.

The Albertina also connects to the life of the Habsburg court around it. Next door is the Augustinian Church, where Habsburg weddings once took place. In a crypt inside that church, the hearts of many members of the family are kept in silver urns. It is an unusual tradition. The rest of the imperial complex, the Hofburg, spreads out behind you. This palace was once one of its wings.

Before you go, walk to the edge of the terrace. From up here, the view opens across the city. You see the long roof and arches of the State Opera. You see the trams moving along the Ring and the people crossing below. This raised viewpoint is exactly why the bastion was built. Soldiers once watched the approaches to the city from here. Today, it is one of the calmest places to stand in the centre of Vienna.

So take a last look. The old fortress wall under your feet. The palace, stripped of its decoration but still elegant. The metal roof cutting into the sky. Three different centuries, stacked on top of one another. As you walk down the ramp, listen again for the trams and the horses... and notice how the noise of the city rises to meet you.