Showing posts with label peter schjeldahl. Show all posts
Showing posts with label peter schjeldahl. Show all posts

15 Sept 2022

What If the Nazis Had Embraced Modern Art?

Joseph Goebbels - Reichminister for Public Enlightenment and Propaganda -
pays a visit to the Exhibition of Degenerate Art in Munich (1937)
 
'We National Socialists are not unmodern; we are the carrier of a new modernity, 
not only in politics and in social matters, but also in art and intellectual matters.' [1]
 
 
I. 
 
As everybody knows, the Nazis were on a mission to cleanse Germany of bolshevism in all its forms, including so-called cultural bolshevism, a term widely used to denounce progressive and experimental trends in the world of contemporary art, music, and literature.
 
Thus, after coming to power in 1933, the Nazis prevented many artists from working or taking up teaching posts, replaced museum curators with loyal Party members, and, most notoriously, organised mass book burning events.
 
However, I'm pretty certain I once read that at least some leading Nazis were in favour of embracing modern art - providing of course it was produced by artists of pure Aryan blood who held the appropriate political views. 
 
If it was okay for Mussolini to couple Fascism with Futurism, then why shouldn't they celebrate certain works of German Expressionism - such as those by Emil Nolde or Erich Heckel, for example, which were said to exemplify the Nordic spirit and had parallels with German medieval and folk art. 
 
Even Joseph Goebbels, not wanting to be seen as a narrow-minded defender of bourgeois values, was open to the argument and, in texts written prior to 1933, spoke enthusiastically of the new, the radical, and the revolutionary [2] - or what we might simply call the modern
 
Indeed, the soon to be Reichsminister für Volksaufklärung und Propaganda had several works hanging on the walls of his Berlin apartment that would be branded in 1937 as Entartete Kunst (the Nazi mistranslation, as some wag said, of avant-garde).
 
Hitler, however, was having none of it - as made clear in a speech in the autumn of 1934, wherein he denounced modern artists as criminal lunatics and declared that under no circumstances would their incompetent rubbish play any role in the cultural rebirth of Germany. As far as he was concerned, any work that didn't conform to the aesthetic values of the Classical world was Un-German and corrupted by the Marxist-Jewish spirit. 
 
Goebbels, one of Hitler's closest and most devoted acolytes, thus quietly removed any offending pictures from his walls and, in 1937, he conceived the idea of an exhibition of works from the Weimar period - which he termed the era of decay - that would contrast with the forthcoming Great German Art Exhibition intended to showcase work approved by the Führer; statuesque blonde nudes, idealised landscapes, etc.
 
Hitler loved the idea and on 30 June signed an order authorising Die Ausstellung Entartete Kunst ...
 
Goebbels appointed Adolf Ziegler - one of Hitler's favourite painters and head of the Reich Chamber of Visual Art - in charge of a small team who toured state galleries and museums in numerous cities seizing thousands of works they deemed degenerate and showing signs of racial impurity [3].   

The exhibition opened in Munich on 19 July - one day after the Große Deutsche Kunstausstellung - and included 650 modernist pieces, chaotically hung and accompanied by notices encouraging the viewer to ridicule the work and vilify the artist responsible.
 
Ironically, however, over a million people visited this exhibition in Munich; three times more than visited the one consisting of the very best that German art had to offer. This is perhaps not surprising when one considers that works by many leading international artists - such as Klee, Kokoschka, and Kandinsky - were on display. When the show toured other German and Austrian cities, it attracted a million more visitors [4]

 
II.

So, finally, we return to the question asked in the title of this post: What if the Nazis had embraced modern art? 
 
In other words, (i) what would that have meant for the development of German culture during (and after) the Third Reich? and (ii) what would that have meant for the development of modern art and its reception within the rest of the world?  

Unfortunately, whilst it's always amusing to ask such questions, this one doesn't really fly unless you remove Hitler from the scenario. For the Führer's thinking on what constitutes great art - and what constitutes degenerate rubbish - was clear, consistent, and not open to debate. 
 
Hitler despised every innovative and non-representational style of art that had emerged during his lifetime; Fauvism, Cubism, Surrealism ... you name it, he hated it - including, as we have seen, German Expressionism, even when produced by a devoted Nazi such as Emil Nolde.
 
So perhaps it's more productive to ask: What was the result of the Nazi rejection of modern art? 
 
Well, as one commentator rightly notes, being banned by the Nazis turned out to have a silver lining: 
 
"'This artwork became more attractive abroad, or certainly in anti-Nazi circles it gained value because the Nazis opposed it, and I think that over the longer run it was good for modern art to be viewed as something that the Nazis detested and hated.'" [5]
 
It's certainly the case that several of the artists featured in the exhibition are now considered among the greats not just of modern art, but within the long history and tradition of Western art. As another art historian writes, the "'stigmatization of modernism caused by the National Socialists is partly responsible for the current boom in modern art [... having] created a canon, so to speak, that had not existed previously.'" [6]  

Further - and crucially - as Peter Schjeldahl points out:
 
"The glamour of martyrdom came to halo modern artists with political virtues that few of them either sought or merited. This set the stage, in Cold War America, for the public acceptance of Abstract Expressionism as, for all its esoteric aesthetics, a potent symbol of liberal democracy [...]" [7]

I conclude, in agreement with Schjeldahl: "Divorcing our thinking about modern culture from the residual consequences of 'Degenerate Art' probably can't be done." [8]  
 
 
Notes
 
[1] Joseph Goebbels, quoted by Peter Adam in Art of the Third Reich, (Harry N. Abrams, Inc. 1992), p. 56.
 
[2] See the widely distributed pamphlet written by Joseph Goebbels entitled Die verfluchten Hakenkreuzler: Etwas zum Nachdenken (1932), in which he attempts to make clear what is meant by National Socialism and why it is, in fact, first and foremost an uncompromising spiritual revolution
 
[3] Over 5000 works were initially seized, including 1052 by Nolde, 759 by Heckel, 639 by Ernst Ludwig Kirchner and 508 by Max Beckmann, as well as smaller numbers of works by such artists as Marc Chagall, Henri Matisse, Pablo Picasso, and Vincent van Gogh. It is interesting to note that only six of the 112 artists featured in the Degenerate Art Exhibition were Jewish. 
 
[4] Of course, whilst some came because they realised it would be their last chance to see great works of modern art in Germany, many also came to mock and be scandalised; for when it comes to modern art, public opinion isn't all that different from Hitler's - it's obscene, blasphemous, pretentious, infantile, etc.
 
[5] Jonathan Petropoulos, professor of European History and author of several books on art and politics in the Third Reich, quoted by Lucy Burns in 'Degenerate art: why Hitler hated modernism', on the BBC news website (6 November, 2013): click here.

[6] Ruth Heftig, quoted by Peter Schjeldahl in his essay 'The Anti-Modernists', The New Yorker, (March, 2014): click here to read online.  

[7] Peter Schjeldahl, op. cit

[8] Ibid.


21 May 2018

On the Art of the Long Neck 2: Modigliani's Neckrophilia

Modigliani: Portrait of Lunia Czechowska (1919)


I.

Almost 400 years after Parmigianino painted his Madonna with the Long Neck, another Italian artist was allowing cervical partialism to determine his subject matter and style. 

But whereas the former lengthened the neck of the Virgin because he was interested in exploring the possibilities of Mannerism, I suspect Modigliani's obsessive desire to erotically display and elongate the necks of his models in one canvas after another was rooted more in fetishism.  

Not that there's anything wrong with that ...

In fact, I can well understand the arousal derived from a lovely female neck; so elegant, so shapely, so vulnerable. This highly sensitive area of the body has what might be termed a special kind of nakedness and it's not just vampires tempted to bite them, nor only perverts who love to lace them with pearls.


II.

Like Parmigianino, Modigliani lived fast and died young. But the handsome Jewish bad boy of early-twentieth century art has left behind him a body of work (and a legend) that has captured huge public interest and affection (critical acclaim being somewhat more restrained and qualified). His star may not quite have risen to the heights of Van Gogh, but, nevertheless, a Modigliani nude sold at Sotheby's in New York earlier this month for $157 million and you can buy a lot of pasta for that!

Although remembered primarily as a painter, Modigliani really wanted to be a sculptor. But mostly, from the time he arrived in Paris in 1906, he wanted to lead as debauched a life as possible. For Modigliani, creativity was born of chaos and fuelled by sex, drugs and alcohol. Unfortunately, in his case, these things only led to ruin (although it should be noted his premature death at 35 was due to tubercular meningitis rather than a bohemian lifestyle). 


III.

The following remark, made by the American art critic and poet Peter Schjeldahl, pretty much sums up my own position vis-à-vis Modigliani and his work:

"I recall my thrilled first exposure, as a teenager, to one of his long-necked women, with their piquantly tipped heads and mask-like faces. The rakish stylization and the succulent color were easy to enjoy, and the payoff was sanguinely erotic in a way that endorsed my personal wishes to be bold and tender and noble [...] In that moment, I used up Modigliani's value for my life. But in museums ever since I have been happy to salute his pictures with residually grateful, quick looks."


See: Peter Schjeldahl, 'Long Faces: Loving Modigliani', a review of Modigliani: A Life, by Meryle Secrest (Alfred A. Knopf, 2011), in The New Yorker (March 7, 2011): click here to read online. 

To read the sister post to this one on Parmigianino and his Madonna with the Long Neck, click here