|
Subscribe!
Skiing
Heritage Magazine
Ski
History Forum
News
Archives
Skiing
History Archives
Gift
Shop
Ski
Museums
Upcoming
Events
Contact
ISHA
International
Ski Federation
Competition
History
Site
Map
Other
Links
Home

Mammoth
Ski Museum
|
Mathias Zdarsky: The Father of Alpine Skiing
A 19th century Rennaissance Man—and yes, eccentric—this
Austrian’s extraordinary achievements were
largely responsible for the sport we know today.
By E. John B. Allen, PhD
If modern skiing owes its development to one extraordinary individual,
a singular pioneer, it is Austria’s Mathias Zdarsky. Painter,
sculptor, teacher, philosopher and health guru, Zdarsky was also an
eccentric inventor who developed the steel binding—the first to
hold the foot in a stable position, the basis of all ski bindings today.
His step-by-step ski instruction method with the introduction of a stem
turn, his founding of a mountain Torlauf (gate race), in 1905,
and most of all his insistence that skiing could and should be enjoyed
in mountains—as opposed to merely foothills—all attest to
his right to be called the “Father of Alpine Skiing.”
Zdarsky was born in the German-speaking area of Moravia
in 1856 and settled in 1889 near Lilienfeld, a little over two hours
by train west of Vienna. He had an extraordinary, inquiring mind, a
trained gymnast’s body, a practical facility with his hands, a
capacity for determined work, and a dogmatic certainty that he knew
best about most things, certainly about skiing.
He was “a crazy cockerel,” according to Wilhelm Paulcke,(1)
one of a number of influential skiers with whom he had a running fight
lasting over a quarter of a century. To Austria’s army leadership,
on the other hand, Zdarsky was a “private scholar in all areas
of current human knowledge, [with] exemplary unselfishness, rare openness
and integrity, and cool and brave in danger,” as the 3rd Corps
Command evaluation put it to the Austrian War Department headquarters
in 1907 after he had taught army units how to ski for three years.(2)
Zdarsky was the youngest of 10 children, attended local schools, and
then a teachers’ training course in Brno before taking up positions
in Vienna, Elsenreith, and in the Stein prison. He broadened his education
in Munich (arts) and Zürich (engineering). He traveled to the Balkans
and to North Africa. A number of his oil paintings from his travels
are held in the Lilienfeld museum, which is almost entirely devoted
to Zdarsky and houses his archive.
Zdarsky has been described as a “talented autodidact,”(3)
was given an honorary membership in the Ski Club of Great Britain in
1904,(4) and has been featured in poems and doggerel:
Pfützen, Schlamm auf Schritt und Tritt
Doch wir bringen Zdarsky mit! (5)
[Puddles, mud with every stride
We’ll bring Zdarsky as our guide!]
He has been labeled “the Jahn of the skisport”(6) (referring
to Turnvater Jahn, the most important 19th century German nationalistic
gymnastics leader), “the Newton of Alpine skiing,”(7) “the
father of Alpine skiing”(8)—take your pick. And he made
of Habernreith—the house he designed and built near Lilienfeld—“a
skier’s mecca,”(9) as the newspaper Allgemeine Sport-Zeitung
described it. Along the way, he constructed a more efficient wheelbarrow,
invented a cement mixer, supplied his swimming pool with a thermo-designed
heating system, all the while working in self-designed clothes. In moments
of repose, he made his tea on a self-invented quick-to-boil cooker that
would be used by the military, as were his light rucksack and 6-man
tent.(10) We are talking truly of a Renaissance man. Where he got the
money for such things as travel and buying the land for his home remains
a mystery.
American ski historians—indeed most others interested in skiing’s
history—know him primarily as the founder of the world’s
first slalom competition, in 1905. Before looking into that event, Zdarsky’s
teaching, his writings, the disagreements, some even leading to challenges
(both on skis and calls for real duels), his service to the military—all
of them in some ways connected—need analysis to give some idea
of the wide and deep range of interests and contributions of this extraordinary
man.
Zdarsky saw his first pair of skis—Lapp skis—in a traveling
show in 1872. Fifty-six years later he could still remember that they
were 120 centimeters long, 6 centimeters wide and 4 centimeters thick
with a foot platform near the middle and two straps.(11) It seems stretching
belief that this 16-year-old would have noted such details, but he was
who he was and so it is possible. This first recognition of skiing produced
no impact. Fifteen years later, he read a newspaper report of two Norwegian
students ascending the Brocken (Germany’s story-laden mountain
in the Harz) on skis and after that, occasional articles on Fridtjof
Nansen’s intended Greenland crossing. After the news of Nansen’s
successful crossing of Greenland’s icecap in the late summer and
early fall of 1888, ski developments in Austria began in Graz and Mürzzuschlag
in the 1890s. These local skiers followed Norwegian businessmen, engineers,
and students working and studying in Austria and Germany, skiing on
skis with primitive bindings and, when they could, copying the Norwegian
telemark turn while using one pole as they got out and about on mini-tours,
climbed the local mountains and organized races.
Snowed in at home during the winter of 1890-91, and with Nansen’s
recently translated book Auf Schneeschuhen durch Grönland
(Across Greenland on Skis) in hand, Zdarsky ordered a pair of skis from
Norway and over the next six years experimented with shorter skis and—so
it is said—200 bindings, resulting in the patenting of the Lilienfeld
ski and binding in 1896.(12) Since Norwegian skis were the only known
quality skis in the 1890s, Zdarsky listed “nine faults”
of Norwegian skis and, punching the point home, added “the Lilienfeld
ski has none of these faults:” Snow balling up under the feet;
sideways slip of the heel off the ski; inhibited lift of the heel; foot
injuries resulting from the poor lift of the heel; frequent breaking
of the ski; requirement of specially designed boots (or at least special
straps); complicated to put on; impossible to ski on steep terrain;
poor qualities that make learning to ski difficult.
By this time, Zdarsky had formulated his stem turn and the skiing principles
that remained the same throughout his life: to achieve no-fall skiing,
the ability to handle all terrain, and the skill to manage all obstacles.(13)
In the same year, 1896, Zdarsky’s book, initially titled Lilienfeld
Skilauftechnik (Lilienfeld Ski Technique), was published in November
by Richter of Hamburg, the same publisher who had had such great success
with Nansen’s account of his Greenland crossing. There were eventually
17 editions of Zdarsky’s book, which had the first title change
in 1903 to Alpine (Lilienfelder) Skilauftechnik, obviously
capitalizing on Zdarsky’s and others’ desire to enhance
the “alpine” skiing they were promoting. In 1908 there was
a further change—to Alpine (Lilienfelder) Skifahr-Technik.
And here we enter the realm of translators’ difficulties. Zdarsky
wanted to change Skilaufen (running on skis, even on the flat)
to Skifahren (going along on skis downhill); he was much more
interested in promoting safe touring skiing than he was in racing. As
we shall see in the 1905 slalom, Zdarsky wanted people to ski according
to his three principles. Racing was not one of them.
It has long been assumed that Zdarsky’s book was the first instructional
book. This is not true. Instruction had been available from the publication
of Max Schneider’s Der Tourist from 1892 on. Although
this was a monthly newspaper published in Berlin, it had a far wider
impact because parts of it were copied in various places, such as the
Österreichische Sport-Zeitung.(14) Freiherr von Wangenheim
had also come out that year with a booklet and, in 1893 Georg Blab,
Fritz Breuer, Theodor Neumayer, O. A. Vorwerg, and Max Schneider all
published small instructional books. The real competition came from
Henrik Etbin Schollmayer’s 85-page book Auf Schneeschuhen:
Ein Handbuch für Forstleute, Jäger und Touristen (On
Skis: Handbook for Forestry Personnel, Hunters, and Tourists).(15) Oberleutnant
Raimond Udy also produced a book on skiing for the military in 1894.(16)
There were, then, at least a half-dozen instruction manuals before Lilienfeld
Skilauftechnik appeared.
But Zdarsky’s book was detailed, logical in its insistence on
steps in a progression of turns. From an exact and required stance,
to moving forward and, most famously, to the stem turn, Zdarsky detailed
how to move through any terrain. One chapter he devoted to hills of
50 to 60 degrees steepness—terrain Norwegians would not even consider
for skiing. His emphasis on secure skiing in all terrain was made possible
by the continual support of a single pole. No wonder critics, especially
those for whom speed was essential for enjoyable skiing, would describe
Zdarsky’s method as gymnastics-ossified in its insistence on the
step-by-step progression. The Englishman Vivian Caulfeild in How
To Ski and How Not To objected to the deliberate use of the pole
for turning, braking, and stopping. To become a “zigzagging crawler
is a very simple matter,” he added.(17) Part of this critique
was based on British notions of “dash”—an imperial
ideal which implied speed, courage, and a certain flair when doing things—so
important in late Victorian and Edwardian times.
In 1897, Wilhelm Paulcke, mentor to many Schwarzwald (Black Forest,
Germany) skiers, took Zdarsky to task for his skis, which were only
good for slopes steeper than 30 degrees, his single long bamboo pole,
and his questioning the value of goggles. Wrote Paulcke, “I don’t
want to be squinting for five days.”(18) Zdarsky fired back by
giving the advantages of his ski—that he had used a bamboo pole
for six years that was “indestructible if one knows how to use
it,” implying that Paulcke didn’t. Zdarsky never answered
Paulcke’s criticism of skiing with no goggles—all the more
surprising because in his youth Zdarsky had had his left eye put out
of commission for a couple of years by an explosion. With the immense
number of hours on snow, he must have had trouble with snow blindness.
The editor of the Österreichische Sport-Zeitung suggested
that Paulcke meet Zdarsky and get to understand the Lilienfeld method.(19)
To Dr. Baumgartner, Zdarsky was belligerent and complained that he had
never witnessed Lilienfeld skiing, even though he continued to criticize.
“How devastating!” wrote Zdarsky, “For me?”(20)
These arguments were part of a simmering uneasiness among Zdarsky and
Norwegians and their followers. They developed into increasingly abrasive
public accusations in journals and newspapers. News of all this soon
reached Norway’s skiing leadership, who knew themselves to be
the guardians of all things having to do with skiing, and especially
so since skiing by 1900 had become the nation’s birthright and
not something to be tampered with. So when Zdarsky and his followers
started tinkering with Norwegian skis and with the way that Norwegians
skied, it was not something to be taken lightly, and it almost spawned
a diplomatic incident. One of Zdarsky’s followers actually traveled
to Christiania (as Oslo was then called) to calm matters down. Zdarsky,
however, had already issued a challenge in 1899 to anybody using Norwegian
bindings and technique for a contest on a 35-50-degree hill with many
obstacles.(21)
By 1904, the challenge became seriously organized, with 17 stipulations,
and permitted competition only from Norwegian or Swedish nationals.
A committee of influential skiers was formed to oversee the contest
on a hill with a 1,000-meter vertical drop. A rucksack had to be carried
with at least six kilos (13 pounds) in it. Zdarsky was determined to
force a confrontation. And when Rickmer Rickmers added a 3,000-Kroner
wager to any Norwegian beating Zdarsky,(22) the stakes heightened and
the Norwegians decided that they had better find out what the Austrian
was doing to “their” skiing.
The Norwegians did not accept the challenge because the course would
be downhill only and Norwegians considered uphill work an integral part
of skiing, but they delegated Lt. Hassa Horn to investigate. The meeting
was set for January 6-8, 1905, and a special train was laid on from
Vienna to Lilienfeld.
About 60 skiers came to witness the duel between their Meister
and their visitor. First, Zdarsky skied down a 400-meter drop at fast
speed. The skiers who followed were slower but no one fell, even though
some carried rucksacks—all to show that Zdarsky was not interested
in speed but in training for touring. After an extremely social evening
in the Schwarze Adler in Puchberg (a neighboring village), the weather
turned bad but two days later cleared and, with new snow, Zdarsky and
Horn skied down a steep slope. Horn sometimes took it straight, sometimes
in curving telemark turns. Zdarsky skied with no falls and with elegant
long curves. “It was a gripping picture, to observe two masters
as they increased their speed and each doing his own technique,”
as the event was described in the Allgemeine Sport-Zeitung.(23)
Indeed, by the end of the exhibition, that was the conclusion: when
skiing over a 20-degree incline it was evident, wrote a knowledgeable
eye witness, that Zdarsky was superior, while under 20 degrees the honors
went to Horn. What made the difference were Zdarsky’s shorter
skis. On the last day, Zdarsky explained to Horn how he taught skiers,
and Horn judged his method for teaching beginners to be excellent. They
exchanged skis by way of symbolizing the end of the controversy.(24)
Horn had been impressed. In a public letter to Zdarsky’s club,
he rationalized that “since your alpine terrain would be disregarded
in Norway, your skiing is bound to have a different character than ours.”
He considered Zdarsky “with his unusual personality… a skier
like no other in Austria,” and went on to say how excellent Zdarsky
was in steep terrain. But Horn had shown that he was more efficient
in flatter country. He did find major fault with Zdarsky’s use
of one long pole.(25) To his own Norwegian Ski Association, Horn gave
a report which ended, “It should be the duty of every Norwegian
skier to drop the old ideas and so contribute to friendly and better
understanding.” (26)
One of the ways Zdarsky wielded so much influence was by his founding
of ski clubs. He had started in 1898 with the ski club in Lilienfeld
but broadened its base two years later to become the International Skiverein
headquartered in Vienna, publishing its own journal, Der Schnee. This
weekly journal provided him with an outlet for his thoughts and arguments
on the philosophy and psychology of skiing and skiers. As he refused
to join the Austrian Ski Association, two centers of skiing and administrative
power emerged in the first years of 20th century Austria. In 1906, the
Austrian Ski Association listed 14 clubs with a total of 870 members,
whereas Zdarsky’s International Skiverein had 539 members alone.
By 1908, the Austrian Ski Association’s membership of 25 clubs
stood at 2,438 members, and Zdarsky had 1,005.(27) Though smaller, it
was Zdarsky’s association that was successful in arranging for
skis to be carried on Vienna’s trams. It also got reduced fares
for its members on the railroad to Lilienfeld and had its own training
ground in the suburbs of Vienna. It was lighted at night, and the nearby
Villa Elsa set aside a room for members to change their clothes.(28)
Not only that, but Zdarsky was invited to teach in Vienna, Murau (Austria),
Garmisch-Partenkirchen (Germany) and Brasov (the eastern region of Austria-Hungrary).
At Mariazell, Austria, in 1909 he had an international clientele including
Austrian, Belgian, Brazilian, German, Polish, and Czech skiers.(29)
If we look at his February 1907 visit to Kronstadt, today’s Brasov
in Rumania, we get an idea of his teaching program.(30) The evening
he arrived, he lectured to an audience of 50, including several military
officers. The next day, 40 were on the hill with another 30 watching.
The local newspaper was thrilled, proclaiming it is “a new era—the
ski era has begun with us.” After Zdarsky had departed, the paper
reported that people had not only learned how to ski because the instruction
method had been easy to follow, but that ski touring possibilities had
opened up.
These courses were given for no payment. This was not unusual. Other
well-known skiers who did not ask for payment for instruction were Rickmer
Rickmers and Georg Bilgeri.(31) It has been estimated that Zdarsky taught
nearly 20,000 people how to ski.(32) “Although he taught a bad
style,” wrote Arnold Lunn in his book Ski-ing, “he persuaded
thousands to take up skiing.”(33)
Some of those thousands were military men—officers as well as
enlisted men. Zdarsky gave his first course to the Austrian army in
1903 and continued until 1911, then again during World War I until 1916,
when he was caught in an avalanche, which he survived with 80 dislocations,
fractures, and broken bones.(34) His contributions inspired the Emperor
Franz Josef to present him with a gold service medal.(35) Many officers
took the courses, some of whom became influential themselves, especially
Lt. Hermann Czant, Theodor von Lerch, and Hauptmann Rudolf Wahl, with
whom Zdarsky wrote a military manual.
Not only did army skiers use Zdarsky’s Lilienfeld skis but also
his bindings. The regulations that were issued and printed in 1897 were
influenced by Zdarsky’s methods.(36) By 1907 the Lilienfeld binding
was standard army issue.
Zdarsky’s courses were more tests of endurance than any particular
military maneuvering. And that was basically a problem about which no
one ever came to a final conclusion: Just what were troops on skis supposed
to do? In the peace before the war, military expertise on skis was equated
with marathon marches, particularly by the Austrians, Germans, and French.
There was occasional criticism, by far the biggest coming from an officer
who built up a ski detachment of the 14th Corps stationed in Innsbruck,
Georg Bilgeri.
Bilgeri recognized that Zdarsky’s technique was an innovation
for alpine skiing. But he objected to the use of the single pole because
it provided a “support technique,” whereas he developed
skiers with a “balance technique”(37) made possible by using
two poles. Bilgeri “improved” Zdarsky’s binding, then
wrote a book, Der Alpine Skilauf, published in 1910. There
was no love lost between the two.
Matters came to a head when Zdarsky claimed that Bilgeri had copied
his binding, then manufactured it as his own in his military workshop,
and called it the “Army Binding.” Bilgeri had already received
3,000 orders, and another 8,000 were ordered two weeks later.(39) Bilgeri
wrote in his book that it was the first work on alpine skiing—which
was not true. And Zdarsky critiqued Bilgeri’s technique with a
feistiness guaranteed to bring on a quarrel. “In an age of Siamese
twins (referring to the two bindings) there is an abnormality to be
found. There is in the Austro-Hungarian army a four-legged officer which
I couldn’t have believed possible (Bilgeri had referred to the
hind leg in explaining a turn). So Bilgeri must ski with four skis and,
what a surprise, there are only two poles, not more.”(40) Bilgeri
was honor-bound to challenge.(41) Both were persuaded to back down,
and the military brass posted Bilgeri to Komorn in Hungary, well out
of the Lilienfeld orbit.
Still, by 1912 it has been estimated that 75 percent of Austrian ski
troops were skiing on Bilgeri bindings (they became official army issue
in 1913) and with two poles.(42) Both Zdarsky and his followers taught
ski troops during World War I and so did Bilgeri and his protégés,
besides others, like Hannes Schneider, who were waiting in the wings.
Not nearly so divisive was the beginning of modern slalom. A post-1945
polemic has developed over the claim as to who started modern slalom.
On one side are the supporters of Mathias Zdarsky and his March 19,
1905 Torlauf (gate race); on the other side are Arnold Lunn’s
followers, who consider his slaloms from 1922 the real beginnings. An
Austrian and an Englishmen were both laying claim to slalom—a
Norwegian invention and word. But the key, in fact, is not the word
slalom, it is modern slalom, i.e. alpine slalom.
Norwegians had a variety of laam—tracks. There was Kneikelaam
(run with bumps), Ufselaam (run off a cliff), Hoplaam
(run with a jump), Svinglaam (run with turns), and a daredevil
run combining all the obstacles, the Urvyrdslaam or Ville
lamir (wild run).(43) The Slalaam was a descent around
natural obstacles, to prove that the all-around skier was capable of
twisting and turning. This event appeared on a race program in Norway
in 1879.(44) The race had not been a success, but was reintroduced in
1906 to counter the emphasis that young skiers had begun to give to
jumping. This was, reported the 1906 Ski Club of Great Britain Year
Book, “a forest race, down hill all the way, the course winding
among trees and rocks, and all curves being taken at top speed.”
In spite of the emphasis on speed, the competitors’ style while
negotiating the obstacles placed at difficult sections of the course
was taken into account by judges.(45)
When Norway’s skiing influence spread to Europe, races were devised
specifically to include obstacles. In Germany, slalom was first introduced
in the Harz in 1906. Before then, races were often called obstacle races
(Hindernislaufen), sometimes skill races (Kunstlaufen),
sometimes both, indicating clearly the skill required to avoid natural
or man-made obstacles. In other races, it was stipulated that poles
were not to be used hobby-horse style for braking.(46) Each of these
varied races received some support, but it remained debatable which
of these experiments was the true test of a good skier. The British
experimented with “Bending” races where competitors skied
around the outside of 12 poles. No points were given for style. The
Black Forest races run between 1902 and 1906 provide an example of the
experimental nature of early turning races. In 1902, a Kunstlauf
was run. The next year it was called a Kunst-oder Hindernislauf.
In 1904 there was a Stilgemässes Laufen (style-point race),
which required a run down a steep slope with turns and swings. In 1906,
for the same Stilgemässes Laufen, specific swings were required
and speed was not a consideration. Poles were not allowed.(47)
The Norwegians, Zdarsky, and Lunn believed, in different ways, that
a slalom would test a skier’s capability to avoid obstacles. For
the Norwegians, they were obstacles that might be met on a tour over
field and fell. For Zdarsky, a slalom would prove the ability of a skier
to avoid obstacles on all types of terrain, with speed being no consideration.
For Lunn, slalom came from his mountaineering background. In descending
from a peak, the skier would run “downhill”—hence
“downmountain races”—until he reached the woods. There
the skier would have to thread his way through the trees.
Slalom was introduced as a practice for “tree running.”
The Lunn race came to be divided into two parts, the first on hard snow,
the winner then getting first run on the second course on soft snow.
Ten-second penalties were added to those falling down deliberately at
the flags. But, as noted earlier, the British equated “dash”
with excellence—and speed was a factor. So into the discussion
came questions of suitability of terrain, equipment, style of skiing,
rules, professionalism, and honor. All this caused such a rumpus that
challenges were thrown down in 1905 and again in 1993.(48)
The facts are these: Zdarsky mounted a Torlauf, an 85-gate
run dropping almost 500 meters on the Muckenkogel outside Lilienfeld.
He wanted it designated as an alpines Wertungsfahren —a
judged alpine run—but his club members were adamantly against
that and insisted on its being a race, a Wettlaufen. Zdarsky
managed to get the event title changed to Ski-Wettfahren,(49)
i.e. to replace the laufen with fahren indicating
that the running (laufen) was replaced by skiing along (fahren).
Zdarsky designed the course as a test for his club members, who were
“tourists,” not racers. Hence it was to be a Prüfungsfahren,
a testing run more for technique than for speed. Eight rules governed
the event. The first had to do with climbing the Muckenkogel “in
the usual tourist tempo.” Most notable was Rule 8: “Each
fall will count. A fall is judged when sitting or lying on the snow
or when the knee rests on the snow.”(50)
Twenty-four competitors between the ages of 17 and 52, including one
woman, climbed the Muckenkogel, and down they came watched by 14 gate
keepers.(51) Everyone fell—one competitor 24 times—and the
least falls counted was one.
Following the event, there was virtually no publicity. The director
of the Zdarsky archive, Franz Klaus (now deceased), told me it was simply
because Wallner was not a Zdarsky acolyte. He did not use the master’s
bindings and was the only competitor to carry two poles.
In 1987, Friedl Wolfgang wrote that “so difficult was the course
that no one ran it without a fall, the winner counted six falls but
still came down in 12.34 minutes; the best single-poler was Franz Kauba
in 16.35 minutes.”(52) Horst Tiwald in his book Spuren von
Mathias Zdarsky (Mathias Zdarsky’s Tracks) hardly mentions
the 1905 Torlauf at all.(53) This effort to, so to say, disembrace
the winner rests more with those who have a stake in the “firsts”
syndrome, than it does with Zdarsky, although he had written in 1900
that a race was “the last proof of the school, how the individual
has done” and felt that if he didn’t race then the competition
is merely a “bit of circus stuff.”(54) Indeed, a year later,
Zdarsky had been both competitor and judge in a race whose course had
been changed at the last minute because of bad weather. The course was
designated by Zdarsky’s own tracks. There was little that was
satisfactory about the race and it led to acrimonious accusations between
Zdarsky, who claimed to be the winner, and a young Josef Wallner. But
it made no pretense to be a slalom.(55) I have found reports of only
two other “slaloms” after the 1905 “first.”
Almost exactly a year later, another Skiwettfahren was announced
as a Prüfungsfahren(56) with 35 gates for 51 competitors
that included six who had run the 1905 slalom, plus eight women. The
rules called for stopping after each of three stem turns. From a standing
position on a steep slope, the skier had to ski “in the direction
of flowing water”—the fall line—and stop with a “quarter
circle turn” (whatever that was), then had to accomplish several
snaky swings on the way down. Those who don’t pass, Zdarsky admonished
the group severely, “ought to be more attentive during training.”
Zdarsky made a pre-run of 5 minutes 50 seconds. During the descent,
he purposefully stopped and turned around. Later he stopped and blew
his nose. These were the sort of things that anyone on a tour might
do, and his time of 5 minutes 50 seconds was defined as the standard.
The winner would have to beat that time. Not one of the no-fall participants
reached the time requirement, so there was no winner. End of slalom
No. 2. But not quite. There were objections, a few complaining that
the track was too cut up. So Zdarsky returned to the top and ran down
faultlessly in 2 minutes 30 seconds.(57)
The last of the Zdarsky slaloms was held for 44 competitors, including
10 women, in 1909.(58) There were 15 no-falls over the 32-gate, 300-meter-vertical
course. The standard time was 16 minutes 6 seconds. Wilhelm Wagner,
a 1905 veteran, won with 10.57.
Nobody appears to have paid much attention to this. And that, in itself,
is interesting. Skisport—skiing for pleasure, recreation, health,
or whatever non-utilitarian reason inspired its devotees—was part
of the industrial revolution’s quest for speed. Spiel und Gefahr,
speed and danger, these were the desires of the true man, trumpeted
Friedrich Nietzsche. Speed, in the words of another pioneer, was der
Schrei der Zeit—the cry of the times—and even something
as static as a trunk was sold as a Vitesse (speed) model.
But Zdarsky clung to his system. On his 80th birthday in 1936 (he died
in 1940), he gave a radio talk in which he described how he had stoutly
defended his system for 40 years, one that did not advocate speed for
its own sake, but with the use of the single pole insured safety on
steep terrain as on undulating meadow. But he had lost the battle.(59)
He refused to acknowledge that speed on skis, a two-pole technique accompanied
by a fast stem leading to a stem christiania was the future. The trouble
was that for all his curiosity and inventiveness, his inexhaustible
fitness and proficiency, Zdarsky had become a prisoner of his own system.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Notes
- Wilhelm Paulcke cited by Theodor Hüttenegger
in letter to Otto Lutter, Mürzzuschlag, 18 April 1950. HMS copy
in Wintersportmuseum, Mürzzuschlag, File: Pioniere Section L.
- Letter, k. u. k. 3. Korpskommando, Gurk, 21 September
1907 to k. u. k. Reichskriegsministerium, Wien. HMS in Zdarsky Archive,
Lilienfeld, File: Wahl.
- Felix Schmal, Skisport in Österreich. Wien:
Friedrich Beck, 1911, 31.
- Announced in Jahresbericht des Alpen-Skivereins
1904, 11. The Ski Club of Great Britain’s Year Book first appeared
in 1905.
- “Übungsfahren in Hohenberg am 25. und
26. Dezember 1910,” Der Schnee (31 December 1910): 4. Another
example in Norsk Idrætsblad (5 April 1905): 124.
- Frank Gerlach, “50 Jahre alpine Skisportentwicklung…1935-85,”
1. TMS Deutsche Sporthochschule Köln, Seminararbeit 1986-87.
- W. R. Rickmers, cited in Wolfe Kitterle, 75 Jahre
Torlauf. Wien: Kitterle, 1979, 25.
- Arnold Lunn, cited in Ibid.
- Allgemeine Sport-Zeitung (1 February 1903): 112.
Hereafter AS-Z.
- The Bezirksheimatmuseum and Zdarsky Archive in Lilienfeld
have a number of his inventions on view and documentation for others.
- Mathias Zdarsky, “Es war einmal,” Der
Schnee (10 November 1925): 10-12.
- Registered in 1896, Patent 31.366 was granted in
1899. Karl Engel of Lilienfeld held Zdarsky’s patents and his
inventions. Hüttenegger, “Duell-Forderung wegen eine Skibindung,”
Ski + Tennis/Windsurf (January 1988): 36.
- As he enumerated in various articles. See, for examples,
AS-Z (25 December 1898): 1518; Der Schnee (19 March 1906): 1 and (10
November 1925): 12.
- See also Ekkehart Ulmrich, “Max Schneider:
Genialer Vordenker und Wegbereiter des Skisports—oder kommerzieller
Scharlatan?” FdSnow 6, 1 (1995): 33-45.
- Wilhelm Freiherr von Wangenheim, Die Norwegische
Schneeschuh. Hamburg: Aktien-Geselschaft, 1892. Georg Blab, Anleitung
zur Erlernung des Schneeschuhlaufens. München: 1895. Fritz Breuer,
Anleitung zum Schneeschuhlaufen. Todtnau: Skiclub Todtnau, 1892. Max
Schneider, Katechismus des Wintersports. Leipzig: J. J. Weber, 1894.
O. A. Vorwerg, Das Schneeschuhlaufen. Warmbrunn: Selbstverlag, 1893.
See also Der Wanderer im Riesengebirge and Mitteilungen des Deutschen
und Österreichischen Alpen-Vereins. Theodor Neumayer, Praktische
Anleitung zur Erlernung des Schneeschuh (Ski-) Laufens für Touristen,
Jäger, Forstleute und Militärs. Hamburg: 1893. Henrik Etbin
Schollmayer, Auf Schneeschuhen. Ein Handbuch für Forstleute,
Jäger und Touristen. Klagenfurt: Joh. Leon, sen., 1893.
- Raimond Udy, Kurze praktische Anleitung über
den Gebrauch, die Konservierung und Erzeugung des Schneeschuhs für
Militärzwecke. Laibach: Udy, 1894.
- Vivian Caulfeild, How to Ski and How Not To. 3rd
edition. New York: Scribner’s, 1912, 15-16.
- Paulcke, “Über Ausrüstung bei Skitouren
im Hochgebirge,” Österreichische Alpen-Zeitung (27 May
1897): 147.
- Zdarsky, “Über Ausrüstung bei Skitouren,”
Österreichische Alpen-Zeitung (22 July 1897): 185. Editor, Österreichische
Alpen-Zeitung (20 January 1898): 123.
- AS-Z (18 March 1900): 233.
- Ibid. (5 February 1899): 138.
- Ibid. (13 November 1904): 1426.
- J. M., “Die Puchberger Tage,” Ibid.
(15 January 1905): 37.
- E. C. Richardson also reached this conclusion in
a letter to Ibid. (29 January 1905): 89. See also his article, “Ende
des Lilienfelder Zwists,” in Ski (Swiss) (13 January 1905):
11-12, and “The End of the Lilienfeld Strife,” Alpiner
Winter-Sport II, 11 (27 January 1905): 153-154.
- Letter, Hassa Horn to Alpen-Skiverein, Christiania,
31 January 1905 in AS-Z (12 February 1905): 142.
- Heinz Polednik, Glück im Schnee. Innsbruck:
Amalthea, 1991, 36.
- Erich Bazalcka, Skigeschichte Niederösterreichs.
Waidhofen/Ybbs: Landesskiverband Niederösterreich, 1977, 30.
- Deutsche Alpenzeitung II, 19 (First January issue
1903): 192-193.
- Mitteilungen des Deutschen und Österreichischen
Alpenvereins (31 May 1897): 122; AS-Z (15 February 1903): 162; Der
Schnee (28 November 1908): 2, (23 January 1909): 1-3, (31 December
19009): 2.
- For what follows, see Siebenbürgisch-Deutsches
Tagblatt (20 February 1907), Kronstädter Zeitung (15, 16, 25
February 1907), cited in Fritz Gött, Der Kronstädter Skiverein…1905-1930.
Kronstadt: Kronstädter Skiverein, 1930, 58-60.
- The first professional ski instructor in Austria
was probably Reinhard Spielmann (Semmering), but the economic ski
school found its style with Hannes Schneider after the Great War.
- Polednik, Glück im Schnee, 38.
- Lunn, Ski-ing. London: Eveleigh Nash, 1913, 11.
- See the two doctors’ reports in Erwin Mehl
(Ed.), Zdarsky Festschrift zum 80. Geburtstag des Begründers
der alpinen Skifahrweise 25 Februar 1936. Wien, Leipzig: Verlag für
Jügend und Volk, 1936, 22-27.
- Jens Kruse, “Die Bedeutung von Mathias Zdarsky
für die Entwicklung des modernen alpinen Skisports,” Deutsche
Sporthochschule Köln, Diplomarbeit, 1991, 6. TMS.
- Anleitung für den Gebrauch der Schneeschuhe
und Schneereifen. Wien: K.u.k. Hof- und Stadtsdruckerei, 1897.
- Georg Bilgeri, “Erfahrungen mit Ski im Hochgebirge,”
Die Alpen III (1928): 2.
- Bilgeri, Der Alpine Skilauf. München: Deutsche
Alpenzeitung, 1910.
- Gudrun Kirnbauer, “Georg Bilgeri (1873-1934):
Persönlichkeit, Berufsoffizier, Skipionier.” PhD dissertation,
Institut für Sportwissenschaften, Univ. Wien: 1997, 88-89. TMS.
This dissertation is now a book, Gudrun Kirnbauer and Friedrich Fetz,
Skipionier Georg Bilgeri. Feldkirch: Neugebauer, 2001, but was unavailable
to me at the time of writing.
- Cited in Kirnbauer, “Bilgeri,” 89.
- Wiener Mittagszeitung (14 January 1910) cited in
Lutz Maurer, “Duell in den Bergen,” in Bruno Moravetz
(Ed.), Das grosse Buch vom Ski. Hamburg: Hoffmann und Campe, 1981,
40. Zdarsky was not new to challenges. In 1899 and later there were
two in 1910 against Gomperz and Wördl, Der Schnee (18 May 1912):
1 and Der Winter (10 February 1912): 246.
- “Stand des militärischen Skilaufes in
der österreichisch-ubgarischen Armee,” Der Winter (17 October
1912): 30.
- Names of races varied from district to district
in Norway and Sweden. Einar Stoltenberg, cited in Olav Bø,
Skiing Throughout History. Translated by W. Edmond Richmond. Oslo:
Norske Samlaget, 1993, 53-54. Artur Zettersten, HMS, 29-31 in Svenska
Skidmuseet, Umeå, Sweden. John Weinstock, “Sondre Norheim:
Folk Hero to Immigrant,” Norwegian-American Studies XXIX (1983):
347-348.
- Faedrelandet No. 20 (1879), cited by Jakob Vaage,
Skienes Verden. Oslo: Hjemmenes, 1979, 132.
- “Holmenkollen Races,” Ski Club of Great
Britain Year Book (1906): 31.
- AS-Z (19 March 1911): 305 and (2 February 1913):
114. Willi Romberg, Mit Ski und Rodel. Taschenbuch für Wintersportlustige.
2nd ed. Leipzig: Leiner, 1910 (?), 97-98, Letter, Commander J. H.
W. Shirley, Oxshott, 15 January 1956 to editor, Ski Club of Great
Britain Year Book (1956): 103.
- F. Klute, “Kunst- oder Hindernislauf?”
Der Winter (28 April 1911): 342-343. See also Ibid., (2 June 1911):
357.
- For Zdarsky’s challenge to the Norwegians,
see Alpiner-Winter Sport II, 11 (27 January 1905): 153-154. In 1993,
at a meeting of sport museum directors held at the Olympic Museum,
Lausanne, 3 September, the Director of the Swiss Sports Museum, Dr.
Max Triet, was challenged over his interpretation of the beginning
of slalom by Franz Klaus, the Director of the Zdarsky Archive. Following
the incident, there was a flurry of correspondence in various newsletters.
- Letter, Mathias Zdarsky to Erwin Mehl, Marktl im
Traisentale, 3 February 1932. Zdarsky Archive, Lilienfeld. HMS.
- Wettfahr-Urkunde, reprinted 2000, 5.
- Ibid., 12. For Wallner’s account of the race,
see Josef Wallner manuscript (10 November 1950), 3-4. TMS Wintersportmuseum,
Mürzzuschlag.
- Friedl Wolfgang, Mathias Zdarsky: Der Mann und sein
Werk. Lilienfeld: Bezirksheimatmuseum, Zdarsky Archive, 1987, 2nd
ed. 2003, 57.
- Horst Tiwald, Auf den Spuren von Mathias Zdarsky.
Hamburg: Institut für bewegungswissenschaftliche Anthropologie,
2004. For a damning critique of the book, see Open letter, Ekkehart
Ulmrich to the Zdarsky Association, Planegg, 1 July 1993, and letter,
Ulmrich to Hans Heidinger, Planegg, 11 March 1996. TMSs copies.
- Zdarsky, “Nicht primitives Wettlaufen,”
AS-Z (4 February 1900): 108.
- Letters Mathias Zdarsky to the Austrian Ski Association,
Habernreith, 5 March 1901, Emanuel Bratmann to editor of AS-Z, Wien,
7 March 1901, Josef Wallner to President of the Austrian Ski Association,
Sonnwendstein, 5 March 1901; and V.S. [Viktor Silberer, editor] in
AS-Z (17 March 1901): 229-230.
- Zdarsky, “Prüfungsfahren am 25. März
1906,” Der Schnee (30 March 1906): 6.
- Letter, Zdarsky to Mehl, 3 February 1932. HMS in
Zdarsky Archive.
- Zdarsky, “Wettfahren in Lilienfeld am 14.
März 1909,” AS-Z (27 March 1909): 2-3
- Radio talk, “Das Naturgesetz der gegenseitigen
Hilfeleistung,” published in a pamphlet 150th Anniversary of
Zdarsky’s Birth. “Lost the battle” is quoted in
Letter, Otto Lutter to Hüttenegger, Graz, 24 March 1950. HMS
Wintersportmuseum, Mürzzuschlag, File: Briefe Pioniere Section
L. HMS.
|