Dominique can be a male or female first name, but it can also be a surname. Versatile, just like his name, is the artist Dominique Rebourgeon. Painter, set designer, actor, pianist, organist, martial artist, and more—he is all of these, but above all, Dominique is an impressive personality with passion and sharp intellect.

The meaning of his name, Dominique—”belonging to the Lord” or “the Lord’s dog”—applies to him in a certain way, as he reveals in our conversation.
For almost a month, he has been continuously drawing and painting at Hexenwasser, primarily in the new experience barn, the “AmVieh” Theater on the Stöcklalm. But even in the past months, he has been working on the theme of witches. In a pleasant chat at his workplace in the barn, he tells us who he is and how he came to Hexenwasser.

When you meet Dominique, you automatically slow down. His presence and his charming French dialect create a sense of calm. He radiates incredible tranquility and consistency. In sharp contrast to his serene aura, however, he sometimes works at breathtaking speed. After admiring the artistically designed walls, doors, and windowpanes of the new “AmVieh” Theater on the Stöcklalm together, I ask Dominique who he is.

Dominique, can you tell us in a few sentences where you come from and what shaped you into the person you are today?

After a brief moment of reflection, Dominique begins to speak calmly and thoughtfully:

*”I left home early—I was just 14 years old. My family was very poor, my dialect was terrible, and I knew that I wouldn’t find happiness in my small provincial village in France. Armed with a portfolio, I set out and applied to the Academy of Fine Arts in Maçon. I was accepted and studied there for the first two years before transferring to Bourges, where I completed an eight-year course in just four years. At 18, I had my diploma and was a trained art teacher, but I was too young to teach.

Music became a pillar of my youth. At 17, I took professional music lessons in Paris, paying for them by drawing portraits on the streets. Three portraits earned me one music lesson.

Later, I moved to Germany. I didn’t speak a word of German and never looked into a textbook—I learned the language through people. In Essen, I studied church music and composition and wrote organ works. This even led me to perform as a concert organist in St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome.

Martial arts always played a major role in my life. At times, training felt like an addiction. I co-founded one of the first Taekwondo schools in Germany.

Meanwhile, I was designing stage sets for theaters in Lyon and Paris, working for the State Theater in Kassel, and later spending 25 years at the Theater in Konstanz. Throughout my career, I have always been independent, self-employed, and a freelance artist.”*

You work on incredibly diverse projects. What type of art do you love the most?

“Every project is valuable to me. What matters is that the project aligns with my values. I make compromises, but never bad ones. If I commit to something, I must believe in it. My art is mystical, hidden, and almost always revolves around people.”

How did you come to Hexenwasser?

*”During my time in Konstanz, I met Matthias Schenk (the visionary behind Hexenwasser, who was then a student of Total Theater). Or rather, he met me. We instantly connected and brought extraordinary light and art projects to life together, forming a long-lasting creative partnership.

Our paths kept crossing, and I even contributed to the founding of his ‘Circus of the Senses’ on the shores of Lake Constance. Most recently, I worked at Schloss Freudenberg on images and panels for the theme of birthdays. He once asked if I wanted to join his team permanently, but I declined. I may be a team player, but not within a rigid structure—I need my independence.

Still, we stayed in touch. One day, he told me about Hexenwasser and invited me to meet the founders. That’s how our collaboration began. When we started discussing cows, Matthias said to me: ‘You have to paint pictures the way cows would, if they could paint.’ That was a beautiful challenge.”*

What do you like about Hexenwasser?

*”Hexenwasser is not a typical tourist attraction. Here, people experience and understand culture, and their senses are stimulated. There’s a strong sense of responsibility for what is created, and I admire that.

Parents today often don’t have time to tell their children stories. In Hexenwasser, stories are told—not made-up fairy tales, but real ones. Just like at the ‘Blaues Wunder’—that’s not fiction; it’s the truth. I appreciate that. It speaks to me.”*

You spent a whole month with us, artistically shaping the new “AmVieh Theater” with great attention to detail. How did you experience your work in the Stöcklalm barn?

*”The artistic design of the barn was one of my longest projects ever. The collaboration with the Ager family from Stöcklalm and the Hexenwasser team worked very well. But mostly, I worked with the cows. That was both fascinating and wonderful.

The barn exudes peace and tranquility. The sounds of the cows were soothing, almost meditative. There was one cow in particular that fascinated me—every day, as she chewed her cud, she rang her bell in a very specific rhythm. Like in a temple. All the other cows remained silent during this ritual. It was clear—this cow loved her own personal song. It was beautiful.

Normally, I don’t listen to music or engage in conversations while working. I focus for three hours at a time, then take a break. On good days, I can do two more three-hour blocks after that.”*

Had you worked with cows before?

*”As a child, I spent a lot of time in the barn. There was an old, lonely man in my village—I used to get milk from him and help him on the field. He had only one cow, but he was always busy and a great storyteller.

He worked almost non-stop, and everything he did had purpose. But every afternoon at five, he took a break. He would sit in front of his big clock, wait for it to strike five, and say: ‘It’s five… and almost six.’ Because at six, work resumed. It was as if he couldn’t wait. That has always stayed with me. This man lived for his fields and his cow.”*

One last personal question: You and your wife live in a former monastery. Are you religious?

*”Yes, we live in an old monastery building. The church, with its beautiful organ, dates back to the 13th century, and every era has added to its structure. It has a very pleasant atmosphere. Unfortunately, I’m not allowed to play the organ anymore because I left the Catholic Church years ago.

That had nothing to do with my Zen Buddhist upbringing but with an incident where I disagreed with how a close friend was treated.

Am I religious? I firmly believe in something greater.”*

Thank you, Dominique, for these honest and profound insights into your life. You are a tremendous asset to Hexenwasser.

Siegfried Goldberger is not only one of the most talented artists in Tyrol; he is a true original, a rare gem that one must search for like a hidden treasure in today’s world.

His specialties include oil paintings, watercolors, pen drawings, and etchings. Executed with utmost precision, his motifs merge into a kind of dream world for the viewer. From unusual perspectives, he creates spatial and temporal distance, capturing the light, air, and remoteness of both familiar and unknown worlds, conveying feelings of solitude and sublime beauty.

For many years, Sigi has also been working for the Hexenwasser Söll. Maps, overviews, wall designs, and graphic elements all originate from his hand. Most recently, he painted the landscapes for the elaborate intro of the new Hexenwasser website. His artwork can be found all around the Wilder Kaiser, and nearly every visitor to Söll recognizes at least one Goldberger.

In an interview, I wanted to find out: Who is the man behind these unmistakable works of art?

Creaking like the lid of an old treasure chest, the door to Siegi Goldberger’s rustic, smoke-scented studio in the heart of Söll swings open. Time seems to have stood still in this room—everything here is art. The scent, the atmosphere, the furnishings.

Sigi greets me attentively and warmly as we sit down for our first chat. I had originally planned to conduct a formal interview with the Salzburg-born Söll resident today. Instead, we ended up talking about everything and anything while admiring his numerous paintings, which are arranged around him like an ensemble. Our interview is postponed to another time.

But one thing is already clear to me: Sigi truly lives up to his name, Goldberger. If he were a material, he would undoubtedly be gold. He is not as transparent as glass, not as fragile as ceramics, not as easy to shape as wood, yet not as hard as steel. He shines, cannot be bent easily, and, like a rare treasure, he has become a rarity—valuable in his apparent timelessness.

Why that is, I hope to reveal today, after Sigi shared nearly an hour of his life story with me during our meeting.

Sigi, how did you become an artist? Is this kind of talent something you’re born with?

My father may have passed down some of his talent for craftsmanship and drawing to me. He was quite skilled, but he never actually taught me how to draw. I started painting at my grandmother’s house on the Rinneralm. I come from a very large family—my grandmother had around 20 siblings.

I, myself, only have two siblings, but as a child, I was quite the rascal. That’s why my parents often sent me up to my grandmother’s Alm. There wasn’t much to do up there, and I often got bored. So, I grabbed some sketchbooks and spent hours drawing.

Fortunately, my family supported my growing passion for art, and I was later able to attend the musical high school in my birthplace, Salzburg. The violin lessons required for admission were pure torture for me since I’m not particularly musical, but they were my ticket to the education I wanted.

The historical city of Salzburg fascinated me, and my appreciation for all things old and historical grew stronger over time.

You are no longer just a freelance artist but also teach technical crafts at a private school in Vienna. How did that come about?

After finishing school, I first worked as a carpenter and truck driver in my hometown. My first “artistic commission” came in 1980 from the Höfe-Museum in Salzburg/Großgmain. However, I quickly realized how difficult it was to secure commissions as a freelance artist in our region. So, in 1987, I packed up a portfolio and headed to Vienna.

I was fortunate enough to get the opportunity to study under Professor Rudolf Hausner in the Phantastic Realism movement and earn my master’s degree. Back then, a lot was still taught about effects, color chemistry, and mixing pigments. For example, I had to learn and draw every muscle and bone in the human body. It was also very much a craft-based education. I believe that’s important—one should truly understand their craft. Representational painting (depicting reality, such as people, landscapes, or objects as perceived by the senses) is hardly taught anymore today.

My second skill, craftsmanship, eventually became my profession. Originally, I was just a substitute teacher for technical crafts in Vienna. I had never studied education, but somehow, I stayed. Now, I’ll continue teaching until I retire next year. I’ve always enjoyed it, and at the same time, I’ve still been able to paint a lot.

Your works can be found all over the region. Can you estimate how many paintings you have created in your lifetime? Do you have any personal favorites?

I honestly have no idea how many paintings I’ve created. I don’t keep records, nor do I collect my sketches in a book or digitally. I’m a bit chaotic in that sense. When I’m out and about and something catches my eye, or I have an idea, I’ll sketch it on a napkin or a scrap of paper. Maybe that’s a bit careless, and sometimes I regret it—especially when I think, I’ve painted this before… but I have no idea where that painting is now. Sometimes, it’s funny when I come across a painting I had completely forgotten about.

I do remember some of my favorite works well, though none of them are in my possession. One was a pen drawing of a Gothic church under renovation, which I sketched from the Enzinger Bichl in Salzburg. A special ramp had been built for the restoration work, and the view was uniquely fleeting.

Another painting I recall vividly is a square-format landscape of the Eiberg facing the Hohe Salve—that one was something special, too. I think I even know where it hangs; someone from the region bought it.

In general, I often incorporate fantasy labyrinths into my paintings. It has become something of a trademark for me. Sometimes, I compare them to Trojan castles, whirlpools, or flowing water. Someone once told me they reminded him of brain convolutions. Everyone can form their own interpretation.

Sigi, you don’t have an email address or a smartphone? Can a working man even survive like that today?

Yes, absolutely. I get by just fine. I just can’t relate to all this technology. Sometimes, I find the digital world downright unsettling. There’s a kind of self-propelling momentum to it, and it seems like the people caught up in it often don’t even understand what they’re doing anymore. Technology is beginning to develop its own intelligence, and that unnerves me.

For example, I drive a very old car where I still understand the mechanics and can fix things myself. I prefer that over being at the mercy of new technology.

My students, on the other hand, communicate almost exclusively through their phones. I have no idea what information about me might be floating around online, but it doesn’t bother me. I enjoy it when people call me—or even better, when they talk to me in person.

You’ve worked with Hexenwasser for many years. How did that collaboration begin, and how have you experienced Hexenwasser as a local over the years?

I met Markus Henkell, the chairman, on the Hohe Salve. We started talking about my paintings. Not long after, I was commissioned to paint a ceiling mural of the Hohe Salve for the Hexentopf. That’s how our collaboration began, and it has continued for many years now.

I’ve always perceived Hexenwasser as something very positive because it has grown in harmony with nature. I love the materials they use—wood, stone, and iron. With similar projects, the excessive use of plastic often bothers me.

Additionally, Hexenwasser has constantly evolved over the years, which is important. My grandchildren love it up there. It’s magical and mystical, but above all, it tells real stories. That makes all the difference.

The witches really were up there around the Saukoglalm—at least, that’s what the old Söll locals knew. It’s wonderful that such stories are being kept alive. That is worth its weight in gold.

Thank you, dear Sigi. Just like you! We hope to continue working with you for many more years to come.

A fascinating person who knows how to translate parts of physics lessons into an international language without many words. A language everyone speaks.

DR. ERICH BÄUERLE

You are a marine physicist and a certified oceanographer. How does someone become that?

Even as a little boy, I was always fascinated and magically drawn to water. My parents had to come up with all sorts of tricks to keep me away from the nearby stream. The bubbling, gurgling, and splashing of the clear water captivated me time and again, despite being forbidden to go near it. Only autumn, with its early-setting darkness and cold, could manage to drive me into the warmth of our home at the agreed-upon time.

Later, when I started diving, I began studying the world beneath the water’s surface and was just as fascinated. In contrast, my rather dry physics studies in Tübingen did not make me particularly happy. I often felt like I was just reciting empty formulas from memory, without actually gaining tangible insights or true understanding. At that time, I realized that the pressure exerted by teaching staff often prevents students from asking questions or openly admitting when they don’t understand something.

My life path took a turn when I began studying oceanography in Kiel. With just 12 other students, I literally jumped into the deep end as part of the first class of a physical oceanography program in Kiel. In no time, we were working as assistants at sea, bringing me much closer to my favorite element. However, it wasn’t always easy—the demands were high, and the conditions were tough.

During this time, I noticed once again, as I spent long hours doing theoretical work on the computer and tackling complex, math-heavy coursework, that, like many other students, I often didn’t have the courage to ask questions when I didn’t understand something. Out of fear of receiving a bad grade, it was easier to simply memorize formulas rather than question them or risk saying something wrong. By the time I completed my PhD in 1981, I already knew that there were better and simpler ways to teach. After all, the practical side behind the formulas and calculations was incredibly exciting.

And so, I became a certified oceanographer.

Who needs an oceanographer/marine physicist?

The fields of application are very diverse. In the first years after earning my doctorate, I worked and conducted research at the Institute for Marine Science at Kiel University, focusing on issues in the North Atlantic. Later, I worked at the University of Konstanz, researching the effects of climate change on lakes.

Teaching has always brought me great joy—whether at universities in Kiel, Konstanz, and Stuttgart, at various schools, or as a volunteer director of the Institute for the Exploration and Protection of Waters (IESGO). Unlike my former professors, I try to find different approaches and ways of presenting educational material, breaking down complex topics so that anyone can understand them.

A key experience for me was working on a project with children in Denmark. I realized how much more open-minded they are in approaching topics and how much fun they have learning when they aren’t under pressure.

Throughout my career, I have mostly worked independently. I have conducted environmental assessments, managed an exhibition on water phenomena in Moislingen, built an interactive space for experiencing dynamics and wave phenomena in Oslo, created the Water Sound Trail at Naturum Göhrde, and, in 2014, helped develop Das Blaue Wunder in Hexenwasser Söll. Currently, I am working on an exciting mobile concept for schools.

You helped design, invent, and create Das Blaue Wunder in Hexenwasser Söll. What exactly is Das Blaue Wunder?

In Das Blaue Wunder, the phenomena of moving water are brought to life.

We experience water in different forms of movement:
– flowing – rotating – oscillating – swirling – dripping – splashing –
often interacting with movable or rigid materials such as air, clay, sand, and metal.

Water’s great mobility gives it the ability to respond sensitively to external influences. This characteristic is what we aim to explore.

The exhibits and experimental setups in Das Blaue Wunder allow visitors to initiate processes that exemplify water’s behavior. Through observation and direct experience, new perspectives and insights emerge. The experiments are meant to bridge the gap between what we see in the exhibit and how water behaves in nature.

Even the word Wunder (wonder) hints at what this is all about. The German word wundern comes from winden (to wind), wenden (to turn), verwirren (to confuse), and verflechten (to intertwine). A wonder is unfathomable and groundless. (Etymological Dictionary)

There is only one way to truly understand the language of water, and that begins with our own mindset. Can I forget everything I know, everything I have learned, even just for a moment? Can I be free of expectations, free of assumptions? And if I am lucky, I may find myself in awe and wonder. But if I try to hold onto it, it slips away. (Matthias Schenk)

Every summer, you come to Hexenwasser. What can we learn from you during those days? Is this a physics lesson?

A visit to Das Blaue Wunder is not meant to be a physics lecture on fluid dynamics—although many of the phenomena presented here could indeed be found in a hydrologist’s or hydrodynamicist’s textbook. Instead, we aim to discover new ways of understanding this knowledge together.

The discoverers behind these phenomena—such as Archimedes, Prandtl, or von Kármán—undoubtedly devoted great effort to understanding these natural processes and distilled their findings into concise, precise explanations. But the challenging journey that led to these insights is usually hidden from us. While this might seem helpful, it can also deprive us of a meaningful connection to the subject, as we miss the sensory experience that is essential for true comprehension.

As a result, when people encounter natural phenomena, they often apply a simplified perspective, which may either lead them to consciously ignore details or, worse, accept oversimplified explanations as absolute truths—leading to inevitable misunderstandings.

I want to present the phenomena of moving water in a way that is simple and tangible. The experience of Das Blaue Wunder should open your eyes, ears, and all your senses. You should leave Das Blaue Wunder with a new perspective, a fresh way of seeing things, and a deeper connection to nature.

Maybe it will be raining when you step outside, and suddenly, you notice how wildly the raindrops dance in a puddle. You hear what a wonderful concert a heavy rainstorm creates. You realize just how exciting a rainy day in nature can be.

You can experience this all summer long at Das Blaue Wunder. And on certain days, I will be there to answer your questions and inspire new ideas.

What fascinates you more about your work—the element of water itself, or the people and their reactions to your projects and experiments?

Water fascinates me deeply, but what fascinates me even more are children.

These little humans come into the world ready to make it better—with curiosity, a thirst for discovery, and without prejudice. And we adults… we take that away from them.

With children, knowledge still comes from the heart.

What they give when they learn is more than we could ever hope for.

Just watch them closely.

The Stampfanger Chapel

Next to the Hexenwasser gondola, perched atop a large rock, it stands as if built by a witch’s hand. It was precisely here, centuries ago, that a tragedy nearly unfolded—one that only took a fortunate turn thanks to divine intervention.

Back then, deep in the valley by the Stampfanger brook, a miller named Christian Pellhammer lived with his family in Salvenau, at the foot of the Salvenberg mountain. Farmers from all around brought him their grain to be milled, as the brook’s steady flow powered his mill wheel year-round. But Christian was not only blessed by nature—he was also the head of a family that seemed to bask in endless sunshine. His cheerful wife had given him five healthy children. The eldest, Simerl, already worked alongside him as an apprentice miller. His daughter Susann helped her mother with household chores and looking after the younger siblings—eight-year-old Peter and five-year-old twins Anni and Seppei.

Maria, the children’s mother, spent most summers outdoors, wandering through forests and mountain meadows with the younger children in search of berries, mushrooms, and herbs, or tending to her garden. The Pellhammers were a happy family, protected by a higher power. But sometimes, even the most innocent are struck by unexpected misfortune.

On a sultry August day, Maria decided to go mushroom picking with Peterl. The week before had been rainy, followed by hot weather—perfect conditions for mushrooms to sprout from the mossy forest floor. Peter was delighted to have his mother all to himself for a day. While the younger children remained in Susann’s care, Maria and her son climbed up to the Silleralm, where she knew good mushroom spots. And indeed, between the moss and lichen, golden caps gleamed, soon filling their baskets. At midday, they took a break at the alpine pasture, where the dairymaid offered them a cup of fresh milk. Just as Maria felt a wave of drowsiness, she caught sight of a large, dark storm front rolling in from the Wilder Kaiser mountains.

“Oh no, a storm is heading straight for us!” she exclaimed. She sprang up and grabbed Peter firmly by the arm. “Quick, we need to get home before it hits!” With a hurried “Goodbye, Greti!” to the dairymaid, Maria and Peter rushed down the steep meadow toward the brook. But the storm was already closing in. As soon as they reached the valley floor, the sky unleashed its fury—lightning flashed, thunder rumbled, and rain poured down in torrents. The Stampfanger brook, usually a clear and gentle stream, swelled rapidly, turning into a raging torrent.

“We’re almost home, my boy—just a little farther to the bridge,” Maria reassured Peter, as much to comfort herself as him. The wooden bridge connecting Salvenberg to their mill in Salvenau would bring them to safety. But when they reached the spot where the bridge had stood, all that remained were its posts—the wild waters had carried it away.

Disaster Strikes

“How will we get across?” Maria cried out in despair, dropping her basket of mushrooms. Peter broke free from her grasp and ran ahead, looking for stepping stones to cross. But he ventured too far, slipped, and fell into the raging water, which instantly pulled him under and swept him away.

“No, Peterl!” Maria screamed. Without hesitation, she leaped in after him, trying desperately to reach him. But the brook had turned into a ferocious torrent, tossing her about mercilessly. Frantically, she searched for her son. With the last of her strength, she grabbed onto a floating piece of wood and cried out in utter desperation:

“Holy Mother of God, Virgin Mary, help! Save my Peterl’s life!”

At that very moment, a massive boulder broke loose from the Bromberg with a deafening crash and landed in the narrowest part of the valley, blocking the raging waters like a cork. The Stampfanger brook, now crashing against the rock, surged over its banks. The sudden surge carried Maria to solid ground, and a short distance ahead, Peter was also washed ashore.

Maria immediately ran to her child, who lay motionless. He had lost consciousness during the ordeal. But as she shook him, weeping, a stream of water gushed from his mouth, and he awoke, coughing. Shivering from cold and exhaustion, Maria clutched him tightly, covering his wet little face with kisses. Then, she lifted her gaze to the pouring rain.

“Thank you, almighty Queen of Heaven, for saving us from death,” she prayed fervently, crossing herself with deep humility.

Summoning her remaining strength, Maria hoisted the weakened Peter onto her back and struggled homeward through the storm. As they neared the mill, Christian and Simerl came running—watching anxiously from the window, they had been sick with worry.

“My dear wife and Peterl—you’re alive!” Christian stammered in relief. But before he could say more, Maria collapsed into his arms, still clutching their son.

That night, the storm subsided, the raging Stampfanger brook returned to a gentle stream, and the sun rose brightly over the Söll valley once more.

In the warmth of their home, Maria and Peter recovered from their ordeal, surrounded by their loving family. Christian, deeply grateful to God for sparing his wife and child, made a solemn vow:

“Right there, on that rock, I will build a chapel in honor of the Holy Mother Mary, my wife’s patron saint.”

“Our Lady of the Rock”

And so it was done. Before long, the beautiful stone chapel “Our Lady of the Rock” became a place of pilgrimage, drawing people from all over the Söll valley. The image of the Madonna, majestically enthroned with the Christ Child in her arms, continues to be invoked by the faithful in times of danger, particularly during floods. But even without a special request, this little chapel atop the rock fills every visitor with awe and reverence.

The Pellhammer family lived long and happily by the Stampfanger brook. And so, dear people, remember the moral of this tale:

“Miracles do happen—never forget that!”

(Parts of the text ©WilderKaiserBlog)

How are things going? How are things?

When we walk, we walk well.

Walking, wondering and turning. All three words have the same roots. Whoever wanders, wonders and turns. When you walk, things can turn out well. And you wonder when your thoughts become clear again while hiking. Especially when hiking in witches’ water.

It is said that just 15 minutes of walking a day can extend your life by around three years. Walking calms you down, reduces stress and alleviates depression. Walking can also improve our thinking. For example, we are more likely to have creative ideas while walking. ‘As soon as my legs move, my thoughts begin to flow.’ Said Henry David Thoreau back in the 19th century. It works best barefoot. The feet find their natural position again, all muscles are moved evenly, the longitudinal and transverse arches gain strength and support and this has a relaxing effect on the whole body. Walking barefoot makes a decisive contribution to the health and freedom from pain of the back and intervertebral discs.

A HeXperiment:

Lifting, carrying and standing. In this three-step process, we take a step, a step forward, a step backwards or a step to the side. This is what witch water is all about. WHAT IS IT ABOUT? How many times a day do we ask this question of another person? In its simplicity, the question has the wonderful quality that it answers itself and that no one else can answer it, only you. Try it. Stand in a simple posture with your legs closed and try to take a step forwards; not with a swing as usual, but millimetre by millimetre in slow motion. Lift, carry, stand.

We carefully observe what happens to us when we take one step in front of the other. How we lose our secure footing for a moment and our centre of gravity falls forwards. Walking is a perpetual falling and catching; a rhythmic falling once to the right, once to the left. Or to put it another way: walking is only possible by alternating between securing and releasing, activity and passivity, exertion of will and letting go of will. THIS IS WHAT WE CALL BAREFOOT THINKING.

Traffic noise and sensory overload are part of everyday life for city dwellers and have an effect on the psyche, often without us realising it. We need to find a balance in nature. If you can’t get to the Hexenwasser, a walk through the city or the park is better than nothing. Or simply go barefoot at home for a day.

You can find more information about the barefoot path here: Barefoot path

Perhaps we were able to motivate you to honour and consume the dandelion.

Now for today’s witchcraft experiment. As simple as it is fascinating. Perhaps you remember it from your childhood. No problem. It’s always beautiful:

• Pick dandelion flowers with stems
• Prepare a bowl of water
• Remove the flower heads (they can be used to make delicious dandelion honey!)
• carefully score the ends of the stalks into thin strips with your fingernail
• Put the scored stems into the water
• say the magic spell: ‘Dandelion, you yellow rascal, show us your ringlets!’
• watch and marvel at what happens!

IT’S TIME TO CELEBRATE!

Celebrate the art that has been created at Hexenwasser so far, the art that is constantly being created and continues to grow through each guest: our shared living and creative organism, the Hexenwasser work of art! This year it will be concrete: your and our encounter with the mountain, forest and meadows, witches and water will take shape one time, colour another time, become
sometimes solid, sometimes wafer-thin, sometimes rock-hard, sometimes hot, sometimes just a patient seed. In this context, let’s grasp and tackle together in the witches’ water creative workshop. Either as ‘artisans’ or as marvellers at the regional artists and craftspeople who are happy to let you look over their shoulders as they create at Hexenwasser.

Creative dates:

• 07.-30.06. CRAFT & TRADITION WEEKS
• 07/08, 14/15, 28/29/06 CRAFT MARKET
• 15.-29.09. ALMHERSTWOCHEN
• 13.-31.10. PUMPKIN WEEKS IN THE WITCH’S WATER

Get creative together with our team

In the witches’ studio in the Hexerei, you can let your imagination run wild while drawing. At the yolk felting workshop in the Simonalm, old craftsmanship, chicken science and creativity come together to create a complete work of art and in the Blue Wonder, every visitor can create a soap bubble artwork to take home with them in the water workshop. Rolling beeswax candles, modelling clay or baking bread are also among the valuable opportunities to lend a hand. All activities are about humour, mysticism or tradition and not about perfection or evaluation. The aim is to take a little piece of witch water or witchcraft knowledge home with you.

Nature is the greatest artist on our Hexenwasser stage. There are so many phenomena and treasures to discover if you take the time to look. The play of light and shadow, the reflection of the sky in clear water, the colourfulness of our flower meadows or the filigree structure of a leaf vein. Art is everywhere. The many creative minds* who have designed and shaped Hexenwasser also use nature as their greatest source of inspiration.
nature as their greatest source of inspiration.

*Contributing artists and visionaries in the
Hexenwasser: Matthias Schenk, Laura Derrez, Georg Mühlegger,
Dominque Rebourgeon, Siegfried Goldberger,
Angelika Sollerer, Herbert Embacher, Erich Bäuerle,
Peter Knapp, Franz Brunner, Reinhard Mellinger,
Kerschdorfer company, Holzbau Koller company, Farthofer company,
Bergbahn Söll workshop team … and many more.

Der große Traum vom Hexenwasser is a reading adventure for ages 6 and up with delicious recipes from the region to cook. You can get the book in the Rabennest or in the online shop The adventurous mission in the Tyrolean mountains is the perfect summer holiday story straight from the witches’ water. Here is a reading sample:

A murmur went through the crowd. This requires
someone who agrees to sleep for 100 years.
to sleep for 100 years. ‘I will be the dreamer,’ said the head witch,
‘if you take good care of me during this time. Because no one
may wake me. If I wake up before the time, the dream
of the witch’s water is over. Can you do that?’ All the witches nodded.
nodded. They interlocked their little fingers and swore a
witches’ oath. Then it became a really exuberant
party with witches’ fireworks, sausages from the barbecue
and a witches’ dance.’

When the story is finished, Grandad grins at us. He
enjoys leaving us speechless. ‘Grandad, I have one more question
I have one more question. What’s the big dream all about?’
says Ben. Grandpa leans forward and whispers: ‘It involves a powerful
powerful dream field is built over a place. In it, the
residents can imagine a beautiful future together.
a beautiful future together. In Söll, the desire has arisen to make the
to turn the Hexenwasser into a place where people and witches can
witches can play together, discover things and have fun.
and have fun.’ ‘It worked out quite well, don’t you think?’ said Grandma
with a wink.
‘Unbelievable,’ marvelled Ben. ‘But now something is obviously going
really wrong,’ I say. Salvax does three laps above us
‘What does he want?’ asks Ben. ‘Well,
I understood ‘Help the head witch in witchcraft’. But it
could also mean: ‘The Sultan of Brunei lays an egg’,
or: ‘It’s all over for the shark in May’,’ replies Grandad.
‘Grandad!’ I shout angrily, ’We have to save the sleep of the
save the sleep of the head witch.’

• What you need:
• 500 g cooked and peeled,
  cooled potatoes
• 150 g bacon
• 150 g cooked beef or
  leftover sausage
• 1 onion
• salt, pepper, caraway
• chives
• butter
• 4 eggs

This is how it’s done:
Cut the onion into small cubes and sauté in a large pan with butter.
pan with butter. Gradually add the bacon, the cooked beef (leftover sausage) and the sliced potatoes and fry everything together.
Season to taste with salt, pepper and caraway seeds.
You can now fry the eggs in a second pan to make fried eggs.
A real Tyrolean Gröstl is served with the fried eggs on top and chopped chives.
and finely chopped chives.

The Hexenwasser witches don’t celebrate Halloween, but they do celebrate their favourite ‘witch vegetable’, the pumpkin, in autumn. The Pumpkin Weeks were celebrated on the mountain for the first time in October 2023. More than 800 pumpkins were processed, eaten and displayed on the mountain. Visitors were delighted by the colourful daily programmes based around the orange superfood. There will be a new edition of the Pumpkin Weeks in October 2024.

No spookiness, but plenty of mysticism and flavour

Halloween is often associated with scary witches. However, the friendly and wise Hexenwasser witches have nothing at all to do with the festival of horror and terror. Even if the custom is not, as many believe, a US American fad, but originates from an ancient Celtic festival. *

The harvest of the colourful and healthy vegetables is reason enough for the witches to organise a party. They carve, decorate and cook. A pumpkin exhibition in the mystical witchcraft cellar is open daily, pumpkin dishes can be tasted in the witches’ kitchen and children are invited to paint their own pumpkins. They even created their own pumpkin liqueur in 2023. Several professional pumpkin carvers and pumpkin painters will also be on site to show off their skills. At the season finale, the orange works of art are given away to visitors at 12.12 pm. Last autumn, the most artistic specimens were in such high demand that many a pumpkin fan stood next to the object of desire until the ‘take-away gong’ sounded.

* The Celts called this holiday ‘Samhain’ and celebrated the end of summer and the beginning of the cold season. According to Celtic belief, the veil that separates our world from the world of the dead (‘Otherworld’) is particularly thin at this time. The inhabitants of the Otherworld, fairies and elves, but also the spirits of the dead can cross over and visit the world here.

Here’s our very simple soup recipe to follow

• 1 kilogram of Hokkaido
• 2 tbsp olive oil (for frying)
• 1 onion
• 1¼ litre vegetable stock
• Salt (to flavour)
• Wash the pumpkin, cut in half and remove the seeds. Then cut into small pieces.
• Peel and dice the onion.
• Heat the oil in a large pan and fry the onion and pumpkin pieces briefly. Then pour in the stock and simmer the simple pumpkin soup for about 30 minutes with the lid on.
• When the pumpkin flesh is soft, remove the soup from the heat and puree with a hand blender. Season to taste with salt and serve on plates.

Would you like to become a pumpkin artist at home?

With our instructions, you’ll be hollowing out, cutting and carving in no time at all.
But before you start carving the spooky faces, you need a suitable pumpkin and the right tools.

Ideal pumpkin varieties for carving
The Halloween pumpkin, also known as the giant pumpkin, gives it away in its name: The large and round variety is ideal if you want to carve a pumpkin. However, there is not just one real Halloween pumpkin. You can also carve varieties such as the Orange Knirps, the Hokkaido or others if they are the right size.
When buying, make sure that the pumpkin is ripe but not yet mushy. The best way to recognise ripeness is by a dried stem and a hollow, dull sound when tapped. The pumpkin should have a nice hard skin that cannot be easily dented.
Tip: Depending on the pumpkin, you can use the flesh to make a delicious pumpkin soup. (Recipe below)

The right tools for pumpkin carving

Knife: Use a sharp knife that is as narrow and pointed as possible. If you want to cut very fine elements, you can also use a scalpel or carving knife. Follow the relevant instructions if you are using such professional knives. There are also special carving tools with rounded tips for carving pumpkins with children.
Spoon: A normal tablespoon is suitable for scraping out the pumpkin, but a melon cutter or ice-cream scoop can also be used.
Felt-tip pen: Before you start carving, you can draw the desired face on the pumpkin. This will make it easier to cut out and carve later.

Step 1: Remove the lid correctly
Before you carve the pumpkin, the lid must first be removed. To do this, cut all around the top of the pumpkin with a knife. The opening should be large enough for your hand to fit through with the tool. To prevent the lid from falling into the Halloween pumpkin when you put it on later, you should hold the knife at an angle when cutting. The tip of the knife should point slightly towards the stem on the inside of the pumpkin. Children will probably need a little help with this step.

Step 2: Hollow out the pumpkin
Then the hollowing out begins. To do this, take a spoon and scrape out the pumpkin seeds and fibres first. These can go in the organic waste, or the seeds can be roasted in the pan or oven.
Then it’s time to remove the flesh, which you can use for delicious pumpkin recipes.
Be careful not to scrape away too much of the flesh from the walls. This could make the pumpkin too unstable for carving.

Step 3: Colour in the pumpkin face
Draw the desired face on the pumpkin with a felt-tip pen. This makes carving easier because you can simply follow the lines.
For complicated pumpkin faces, it is best to use a template to transfer the desired motif exactly onto the pumpkin.
If you feel confident enough, you can, of course, go about your work without a template.

Step 4: Cut the pumpkin to size with the knife
When carving the pumpkin, it is best to start from the top. First cut out the eyes. This works particularly well with a small kitchen knife. Then follow with the nose and mouth.
You can give the Halloween pumpkin teeth by not cutting away the entire wall where the mouth is marked. Instead, only remove the skin of the pumpkin.
Experienced carving professionals can also try carving larger parts. If you want the contours to be particularly fine, a scalpel can help.

Tip for elaborate carvings: If you want to decorate a pumpkin exclusively or mainly with carvings, the wall should be thin enough, at least in some places, to allow candlelight through later. When carving, make sure that you don’t accidentally break through the pumpkin wall with your tools.

Handyman’s tip: If Dad fancies using the drill for a completely different purpose… The drill can be used to cut perfect holes in the pumpkin. Step 5: Make the pumpkin face last longer

• Rub the inside and cut surfaces of the pumpkin dry with a kitchen towel and coat them with paraffin-free Vaseline or organic milk fat. This will keep the Halloween pumpkin fresh for longer and prevent it from going mouldy.
• If the pumpkin dries out slowly after setting it up, place it in a bucket of water overnight. Then rub dry with kitchen paper, leave to air dry and apply Vaseline again.
• You cannot prevent mould. But in addition to Vaseline, it can also be delayed by the right location, as explained in step 6.

Step 6: Illuminate the pumpkin and position it appropriately
A tea light is ideal for illuminating your Halloween pumpkin. Once you have lit it and placed it inside, you can put the lid back on. However, check that nothing burns on the inside of the lid. As an alternative to a real candle, you can also use a string of LED lights to illuminate the pumpkin.
The heat from the candle fire can cause the lid to get hot, dry out and soon fall into the pumpkin. If the pumpkin is so small that there is a risk of this happening, you should simply leave the lid off. Ideally, you should place the finished pumpkin in a shady spot outside where it will keep much longer in the cold than indoors.