Is the Hundertwasser House Germany's Answer to Dr. Seuss?

The most beautiful building in the small city of Plochingen is St. Ulrich's, the Protestant church that presides over the Neckar River with the majesty of an aging monarch overlooking his court. The second most beautiful building is St. Konrad's, Plochingen's handsome Catholic church that lies just down Hindenburgstrasse from my in-law's house. But if you visit Plochingen's official website, the first image you see is a fuzzy-edged picture of the city's own Hundertwasser House.

In the early 90s, the famous Austrian architect and artist Friendensreich Hundertwasser (his name means "Reign of Peace Hundred Waters," though he was never a basketball player) agreed to design a masterwork for this sleepy Swabian town. The house, which is a high-walled courtyard containing apartments and cafes and an enormous "Rain Tower" which may or may not collect rain, stands proudly in the middle of downtown.

The purpose of this courtyard is to convey Hundertwasser's distinct characteristics: "happy colorfulness, round forms and playful balconies." Also, Hundertwasser planted a live trees in the balconies and roofs. These "tree renters" serve as an important testament that not only people, but trees live in apartments.

The other night, my sister and I made an investigative visit to the court yard to, just like a certain bear who went over a certain mountain, see what we could see. It is playful and colorful, without a doubt. The visit confirmed my suspicion that Hundertwasser, much more than an esteemed architect, is the German speaking world's answer to American children's book author Dr. Seuss. To my eyes, the best way to describe the Hundertwasser House, with it's playfully scattered windows, generous reds and sparkly blues, randomly drooping colorful drops (evidently to make it look natural), wonderfully loopy corners and curves, can best be described as Seussville. In fact, now that I regularly read Dr. Seuss's ABC book with my daughter, I was surprised to leave the courtyard without seeing a Fiffer Feffer Feff (with his four fluffy feathers) or the Zizzer Zazzer Zuzz. It would be the perfect place for Thing 1 and Thing 2 to chase the Cat in the Hat in father's ten dollar shoes. They did not serve green eggs and ham, but this didn't surprise me as it would have clashed with the color-scheme (Red Fish and Blue Fish, however, would fit right in). I should also say that I don't know anyone who lives in the apartments, so I can't report whether or not they would object to being called "Whos."

Anyway, I can only approach the Hundertwasser House with the fun and humor, but as the Germans say, nothing for ungood. It's clever, quirky, but very unique. And it makes sense that it is featured on the website; every town in Germany has at least one beautiful church, but who has an avaunt garde apartment complex that will turn heads (for better or for worse) of all the people who commute into Stuttgart? The rain tower sticks out of Plochingen's houses like a balloon salesman sticks out of a crowd of children. The Grinch leans out of it to hear if we are still singing.