Seeing Legos in the Funeral Museum was unexpected

By Malena Le

When I first walked onto the streets of Vienna, my head stayed upturned trying to take in the sight of the muted color buildings, and streets that went on forever. I could not have predicted that most of my time spent here would not be at the comforting edge of the Danube, nor the brisk air conditioning of art museums. Vienna had other plans for me, and I found myself stumbling into the third entrance of the Central Cemetery. Even stranger, walking down into a funeral museum.

Museum visitor takes a picture of the wall of death certificates illuminating the exhibits.

The Gift Shop

The first thing that caught my attention was the statue of a friendly Grim Reaper, much different from its normal depictions. There was a sign next to him that said, “Selfie Point,” for visitors to take a picture with their new tour guide. One of the workers there took a photo of us, with bright smiles painted on me and the statue. Afterwards, I entered the reception and gift shop area where I found funeral themed souvenirs.

The first face I saw when I walked in was Conny Fassl, one of the receptionists at the Funeral Museum. She has been working here for 6 years and expressed her love of educating the public about the history of burials and was preparing for a group of young students to come for a tour of the cemetery. When I asked about how most people perceive the museum, and death itself she explained that due to the Viennese culture, it’s not an avoided topic for anyone.

Conny Fassl, head of communications at the Funeral Museum in the Central Cemetery.

Fassl said, “The beautiful corpse is a part of the Vienna tradition and shows life in Vienna beyond death.”

The beautiful corpse, or “a schöne leich”, is a phrase partnered with death in Vienna. It refers to the Catholic origins of Vienna, and the tradition of having open casket funerals. In the most literal sense, the Viennese wanted to make sure that their corpse would look good, with glamorous clothes and accessories. Nowadays, the beautiful corpse has expanded upon its original meaning, to express funerals as a flamboyant celebration of how one lived.

One of the Lego collections featured in the display case, available for purchase at the Funeral Museum giftshop.

Death on smaller scale

In the gift shop, I was surprised to see funeral themed Lego sets underneath a bright spotlight that illuminated the otherwise dimly lit rooms. In the display case there were Lego sets of pallbearers carrying a coffin, a hearse, and even a set showing a coffin being put into the ground. All these sets were for ages 6 and up, with the cost ranging from 15 to 70 euros depending on the set. Seeing little Lego figures of undertakers smiling brightly, I could not help but chuckle.

I had also had an interesting conversation about death with a local tour guide named Eugene Quinn, where we talked about perceptions of death, what we would want to do with our bodies, and then the Funeral Museum.

Eugene Quinn, a tour guide of Vienna, who heads a Smart City tour which highlights the aspects of the city that make Vienna more connected and sustainable.

“It’s very Viennese, and it’s quite theatrical,” said Quinn, “I think it’s good therapy to reflect on death and how you’d like to be remembered.”

He also mentioned the Lego sets sold at the museum and expressed his amusement with the idea of selling a product portraying death in a child’s medium.

“So, they have, like, little, almost Lego figures, which allow children to understand what dying means,” said Quinn. He also pointed out the irony that most while most children can’t grasp death, they do know danger. Describing them as always trying to pull off reckless stunts as if they have a death wish.

“A Schöne Leich”: The Viennese Dance with Death

Growing up in Georgia, death wasn’t an average dinner conversation in my family. We tried not to talk about it, and I didn’t like to think about it. At the age of 5 or 6, I became terrified of death, and it wasn’t really until now that I truly made peace with it. However, I absolutely loved Legos (still do). Seeing these cheery depictions of death felt healing, as if allowing my younger self to face this reality through my favorite things. The legos made this large, inescapable truth into something tangible and familiar. For children death is scary, largely because it can never be truly explained. However, Legos are something that every child recognizes, a building block to see real life on a more imaginable scale, or in this case, real death.

Death masks put on display at the funeral museum for visitors to see, a tradition that ensures that the deceased will live on in memory.

The Museum and a Spotify Playlist

When I moved on from the initial shock of the gift shop, I was able to walk through the museum itself. It was dimly lit, and one of the first exhibits I approached were some of the older undertaker and pallbearer uniforms. Then following along the path, I could see a stop motion animation made with paper cut outs of a funeral service. Until I came upon a strange interactive exhibit which was a screen with a Spotify playlist they made of the most used songs at funerals in Vienna. “Ave Maria” was on that playlist, along with many other songs in German, the only English song I saw on there was “My Way” by Frank Sinatra. His dulcet tones serenaded me throughout the rest of museum.

The sitting up coffin, based off a painting by René Magritte, which solely functions as a decoration piece for the museum.

Throughout the exhibits I saw Viennese death masks, which are plaster casts of a dead person’s face that cement their last expression into eternity. They were unsettling at first, I kept thinking that if I stared long enough at them, they might open their eyes. Then it hit me, that this molding is exactly how they looked after they passed. It was like an out of body experience trying to imagine the process. Distinctive styles of coffins were put on display, some being the daunting oak wood one would expect, and others being painted one with a cross. Those coffins were beautiful. I spent 5 minutes, just admiring the craftsmanship and attention to detail. There was even a display showing another untraditional way people use their bodies after death, transforming their ashes into diamonds. As morbid as it sounds, I found this exhibit intriguing and it allowed me to contemplate about my own death. Another show stealer would be the sitting up coffin, just in case laying down isn’t your best angle. The entire time I was there I wasn’t apprehensive or appalled by what I saw, rather I felt serene walking up and down the exhibits. The experience was interesting and interactive, and the exhibits shown were historical and had a sense of humor that would break a smile on my face.

A group photo of me (Malena Le) and Anna Wade with the mascot of the museum.

Back to the gift shop once more.

Then at the end of the museum I found myself back where I started. The macabre lighting of the gift shop, with the Grim Reaper having a smile on his face. I looked through the shirts, bags, and other miscellaneous items they sold. However, my eyes keep creeping back to those Lego sets. I ended up paying some early dues to the cloaked figure and bought one of those sets as a souvenir. If you ever get the chance, you should also stop by the museum. There you can discover, grapple, accept, laugh, and even take a selfie with Death!