<<

© COPYRIGHT

by

Olivia Rettstatt

2019

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

BRONCIA KOLLER-PINELL’S MARIETTA, 1907: FACING TRUTH IN THE

SECESSION

BY

Olivia Rettstatt

ABSTRACT

Broncia Koller-Pinell’s Marietta, 1907, an ambitious of a female nude, is an outlier within the artist’s oeuvre in terms of both style and genre. This thesis interrogates the painting’s relationship to the canon of Viennese : the work provides an opening-point to consider Koller-Pinell’s relationship to the “Klimt Group,” a faction of artists who in 1905 seceded from the original Secession group, founded in 1897. I argue that Marietta confronts and reinterprets ’s Nuda Veritas (Naked Truth), 1899, a major icon of the Secession and referent to the nude as a symbol of truth. By questioning the gendering of art and the artist in the

Secession, Koller-Pinell pointed directly to the conditions that barred women from full participation in the movement. Further, I discuss the artist’s adaptation of Neo-Byzantine style and Christian iconography in the painting, relating these aspects to religious tensions within

Viennese society and to Koller-Pinell’s own identity as a Jewish woman. Lastly, by re- introducing Marietta back into the context of the 1908 Kunstschau alongside Koller-Pinell’s other works, I consider the role gender played in shaping the reception of women’s art. The organizers’ pointed refusal to include Marietta in the exhibition alongside more conventionally

“feminine” works by Koller-Pinell illustrates the contradictions within the Secession’s stated aim to break down the borders between art and craft. This thesis thus builds upon recent feminist scholarship on the partial inclusion of women artists in the Secession, as well as the gendering of the artist, genre, and medium in modern Viennese art.

ii

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

This thesis would not have been possible without support from my family, professors, and especially the loving friends in my cohort. I owe my family everything for their patience, love and support throughout my life and academic career; I only studied abroad in Vienna in

2015 after encouragement from my sister Emily and parents who urged me out of my comfort zone. After the four months I spent in , I promised myself I would return. I did so with the generosity of the Carol A. Ravenal Travel Award and funding from the College of Arts and

Sciences. In Vienna I had the great fortune to meet Ms. Mimi Eisenberger, the owner of

Marietta and much of Koller-Pinell’s legacy, who played a major role in the development of this thesis. She opened her home and private collection to me, lent me a hard copy of Sieglinde

Baumgartner’s dissertation on Koller-Pinell, and even gifted me a hardbound catalog of her collection that I will cherish forever. My advisor, Dr. Juliet Bellow, believed in me and encouraged me to pursue Marietta my first semester of graduate school. She consistently pushed me to ask the difficult questions and not be afraid to express my own scholarly voice. Dr.

Andrea Pearson and Dr. Joanne Allen also provided invaluable insight to the iconographical understanding of works I put in conversation with Marietta. My professors’ and cohort’s attentiveness, discerning eyes, patience, and finesse made this thesis what it is. Thank you!

iii

TABLE OF CONTENTS

ABSTRACT ...... ii

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS ...... iii

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS ...... v

INTRODUCTION ...... 1

CHAPTER 1 MARIETTA: THE NAKED TRUTH ...... 10

CHAPTER 2 ICON OF OTHERNESS: RELIGIOUS IDENTITY IN MARIETTA ...... 23

CHAPTER 3 GENDER AND THE 1908 KUNSTCHAU ...... 41

CONCLUSION ...... 59

ILLUSTRATIONS ...... 61

BIBLIOGRAPHY ...... 64

iv

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

Figure 1: Broncia Koller- Pinell, Marietta, 1907. Oil and gold leaf on ...... 61

Figure 2: Gustav Klimt, Nuda Veritas, 1899, Oil on canvas...... 61

Figure 3: Elena Luksch-Makowsky, Adolescentia, 1903. Oil on canvas...... 61

Figure 4: Elena Luksch-Makowsky, Self-Portrait with Son Peter (Ver Sacrum), 1901. Oil on canvas...... 61

Figure 5: 17th Secession installation view, designed by . Elena Luksch- Makowsky’s Ver Sacrum to the right of the stairs (arrow)...... 61

Figure 6: Sandro Botticelli, (detail) Calumny of Apelles, 1494-5. on panel ...... 61

Figure 7: Cesare Ripa, Verita, 1603. Ink...... 61

Figure 8: Édouard Debat-Ponsan, La Vérité sortant du puits (Truth Emerging from a well), 1898...... 61

Figure 9: Gustave Courbet, The Painter’s Studio: A Real Allegory Summing Up Seven Years of My Artistic Life, 1855. Oil on canvas...... 61

Figure 10: Édouard Manet, Olympia, 1863. Oil on canvas...... 61

Figure 11: Gustav Klimt, Judith, 1901. Oil and leaf and canvas...... 61

Figure 12: Gustav Klimt, Portrait of Adele Bloch-Bauer I, 1907. Oil and gold leaf on canvas. .. 61

Figure 13: Auguste-Dominique Ingres, Baronne de Rothschild, 1848. Oil on canvas...... 61

Figure 14: Artist unknown, (detail) St. Demetrios between the bishop and eparch, Hagios Demetrios, Macedonia. c. 600 A.D. Mosaic ...... 61

Figure 15: Artist unknown, (detail) Theodora shown to the far left with a blue square halo, Saint Zeno Chapel, Rome, c. 820, rebuilt 10th century A.D. Mosaic...... 61

Figure 16: Artist unknown, (detail) The Ascension, Pope Leo IV with square nimbus, San Clemente, Rome, completed 1123 A.D. Mosaic...... 61

Figure 17: Dieric Bouts, Entombment, c. 1450. Distemper on flax...... 61

Figure 18: Geertgen tot Sint Jans, Lamentation of Christ, c. 1485-1490. Oil on canvas...... 61

Figure 19: Albrecht Dürer, The Entombment, 1511. Woodcut...... 61

Figure 20: Rosso Fiorentino, Dead Christ, c. 1524-7. Oil on canvas...... 61

v

Figure 21: Édouard Manet, The Dead Christ with Angels, 1864. Oil on canvas...... 61

Figure 22: Mark Antokolsky, Ecce Homo, c. 1873. Bronze...... 62

Figure 23: Richard Gerstl, Self-Portrait Against a Blue Background, c. 1905. Oil on canvas. ... 62

Figure 24: Broncia Koller-Pinell, Das Letze Gericht (The Last Judgement), 1903. Oil on linen. 62

Figure 25: Klimt’s room at the 1908 Kunstschau. At far right: Watersnakes II, 1907. Oil on canvas.; center: The Three Ages of Women, 1905. Oil on canvas.; left center Maria Stonborough Wittgenstein, 1905. Oil on canvas. Printed in Deutsche Kunst und Dekoration, 1909. in “Austellung: Kunstschau Wien 1908,” Kunst und Handwerk: Zeitschrift für Kunstgewerbe und Kunsthandwerk seit 1851-1859 (Bayerischer Kunstgewerbe-Verein. Universitats-Bibliothek Heidelberg. http://digi.ub.uni- heidelberg.de/diglit/kuh1908_1909/0154 145...... 62

Figure 26: Broncia Koller-Pinell, Meine Mutter, 1907. Oil on linen...... 62

Figure 27: Gustav Klimt, Flower Garden, 1906. Oil on canvas...... 62

Figure 28: Broncia Koller-Pinell, Heinrich Shröder, 1907. Oil on canvas. Reprinted in Agnes Husslein-Arco and Alfred Weidinger, Gustav Klimt und die Kunstschau 1908, 164...... 62

Figure 29: Broncia Koller-Pinell. Meine Mutter, c. 1907. Woodblock print...... 62

Figure 30: Broncia Koller-Pinell, Mädchen mit Rotem Haar (Girl with Red Hair, Esther Großmanm-Stromberg), n.d. Colored woodblock print...... 62

Figure 31: Broncia Koller-Pinell, Marktfrau mit Orangen (marketlady with oranges), n.d. Colored woodblock print...... 62

Figure 32: Broncia Koller-Pinell, Weiße Rehe (White Does), 1907. Colored woodblock print.. . 62

Figure 33: Art for the Child, Room 29 of the 1908 Kunstschau. Reproduced in Hohe Warte. J.g. IV and Vienna: 1908, S. 220. Reprinted in Agnes Husslein-Arco and Alfred Weidinger, 375...... 62

Figure 34: Fanny Harlfinger, Children’s nursery suite and decorative panneau (sign) “Madonna,” displayed in Art for the Child, Room 29 of the 1908 Kunstschau. Reprinted in The Studio Yearbook of Decorative Art (London: The Studio, 1909), 8...... 62

Figure 35: Berta Kiesewetter, Spielwaren, 1907/8. Reproduction from Die Fläche. Reprinted in Husslein-Arco and Weidinger, 145...... 62

Figure 36: Valerie Peter, Frühlungsfest, 1907/8. Reproduction from Die Fläche II. Reprinted in Husslein-Arco and Weidinger, 155...... 62

Figure 37: Franz Delavilla, Cabaret Fledermaus, 1907/8. Reproduction from Die Fläche II.eprinted in Husslein-Arco and Weidinger, 138 ...... 62 vi

Figure 38: Berthold Löffler, Rudium Idealste Haarpflege, 1901. Reprinted in Husslein-Arco and Weidinger, 148...... 62

Figure 39: Magda Mautner von Markhof, Untitled. Tapestry. Reprinted in Husslein-Arco and Weidinger, 346...... 63

Figure 40: Various fashions by Magda Mautner von Markhof and Rosa Rothansl (top left). Reprinted in Husslein-Arco and Weidinger, 347...... 63

Figure 41: Unknown. Kunstschau 1908, Room 50: Wiener Werkstätte. 1908. Black and white photograph in “Austellung: Kunstschau Wien 1908,” Kunst und Handwerk: Zeitschrift für Kunstgewerbe und Kunsthandwerk seit 1851-1859 (Bayerischer Kunstgewerbe- Verein, Universitats-Bibliothek Heidelberg. http://digi.ub.uni- heidelberg.de/diglit/kuh1908_1909/0154 149...... 63

vii

INTRODUCTION

Broncia Koller-Pinell’s (1863-1934) Marietta (1907; fig. 1) features a nude young woman situated in a starkly simplified room, with her head framed by a glowing golden square.

This painting provides an opening-point to consider Koller-Pinell’s relationship to the Vienna

Secession (founded in 1897) and the “Klimt Group,” a faction of artists who in 1905 seceded from the original association. I argue that Marietta confronts and reinterprets Gustav Klimt’s

Nuda Veritas (Naked Truth, 1899; fig. 2), a major icon of the Secession movement. By questioning the gendering of art and the artist in the Secession, Koller point ed directly to the conditions that barred women from full participation. I situate Marietta within the history of the nude as a symbol of truth, positing that Koller-Pinell criticized male artists’ use of the naked female form to symbolize their rebellious refusal of naturalistic artistic convention. Further, I discuss the artist’s adaptation of Neo-Byzantine style and Christian iconography in the painting, relating these aspects to religious tensions within Viennese society and to Koller-Pinell’s own identity as a Jewish woman. Lastly, by re-introducing Marietta back into the context of the 1908

Kunstschau alongside Koller-Pinell’s other works, I consider the role gender played in shaping the reception of women’s art. The organizers’ pointed refusal to include Marietta in the exhibition alongside more conventionally “feminine” works by Koller-Pinell reveals the unspoken limits to the Klimt group’s stated aim of inclusivity.

Histories of the rarely include the female artists, including Koller-

Pinell, who worked and occasionally exhibited alongside the movement’s male founders. When these artists are mentioned, they often are described simply as the muses, lovers, or wives of more prominent men. How should we approach these dynamics of inclusion and exclusion at the

Secession? Since the 1971 publication of Linda Nochlin’s canonical essay “Why Have There

1

Been No Great Women Artists?” feminist art historians rightly have argued that simply introducing such women into an expanded does not rectify the structural and ideological problems that erased them in the first place. But this hesitance to “add women and stir” has exacerbated the problem: we still know very little about the vibrant, robust participation of women in the making of modern art, including the Secession movement.1

The Vienna Secession often is defined as an entirely male enterprise. In 1897, Gustav

Klimt led a group of nineteen painters, designers, and architects to break away from the conservative Austrian Artists’ Society (Genossenschaft bildener Künstler Wiens, or

Künstlerhaus). These artists framed their rejection of naturalistic style as an act of youthful rebellion that, in the words of participant (1841-1918), would show modern man his true face.2 The critic and author Hermann Bahr (1863-1934), a fellow-traveler and supporter of the Secession, declared that

It is truth we desire. We must pay heed to that commandment which comes from without, and to our own inner yearnings. We must become as our environment. We must shake off the mold of past centuries—that same past which, long since faded, chokes our souls with its decaying foliage. We must be as the present… 3

These ideas were emblazoned on the façade of the group’s purpose-built exhibition space designed by Josef Maria Olbrich (1867-1908), located directly on Vienna’s central Ringstrasse, or Ring Road. Above the entrance was burnished the group’s motto: “To every age, its art. To art, its freedom.” Flanking the front door was another slogan, “Ver Sacrum” or “sacred spring,” declaring the group’s dedication to the rebirth of Viennese art via the rise of a new generation.

1 See Linda Nochlin, “Why Have There Been No Great Women Artists?” 1971, reprinted in Women, Art and Power and Other Essays (Cambridge; Philadelphia, San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1988).

2 Otto Wagner, paraphrased in Carl Schorske, Fin-De-Siècle Vienna: Politics and Culture (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1956), 215. 3 Hermann Bahr quoted in Peter Vergo, Art in Vienna 1898-1918: Klimt, Kokoschka, Schiele and Their Contemporaries Fourth edition (updated and expanded) (London: Phaidon Press Limited, 2015), 28.

2

Through these messages, the Secession defined itself in terms of rebellion and defiance of outmoded convention.

Though the group was united in its desire to reform art, it was riven by internal divisions that ultimately led to a split. Klimt wished to align the Secession with the commercial Galerie

Miethke, as a way to more easily promote and advertise the artists and craftsmen of the group.

The Galerie was an auction house that, since 1861, played an important role in the art market of

Vienna, including buyers within the Monarchy.4 It moved to the center of Vienna by 1895, and by 1904 it was under the leadership of artist Carl Moll (1861-1945), who resigned from the

Secession shortly before gaining that position. Miethke eventually ran into financial challenges and wealthy jeweler Paul Bacher took over the gallery, during which time Klimt also insisted that space within Miethke be reserved for the Secessionists. This caused more strain between him and painter Josef Engelhart who decried the hypocritical act towards commercial art sale.5

Finally, in 1905, Klimt formed a new, smaller group that included Josef Hoffmann (1870-1956) and Koloman Moser (1868-1918). At issue was the artist’s freedom: in his remarks on the new union, Klimt claimed that this loose collaborative

4 See Tobias G. Natter, Die Galerie Miethke. Eine Kunsthandlung im Zentrum der Moderne.,Ausstellungs Katalog des Jüdischen Museums (Wien, Wien 2003). See also Henry-Louis de La Grange, : Volume 3. Vienna: Triumph and Disillusion (1904-1907) (London: Oxford University Press, 1999), 189-190.

5 Robert Jenson, Marketing Modernism in Fin-de-Siècle Europe, (Princetown, N.J: Princetown University, 1994), 186. The Secessionists also contradicted their own aims to free themselves from the restrictions of academic naturalism and purported to avoid historical subjects. However, the Secession still eventually met internal conflict and division due to differences of art and exhibition styles. Klimt was “the stylist” and Engelhart was “the naturalist.” Klimt favored the decorative quality of Raumkunst or spatial art, which worked to seamlessly blend art with its respective surroundings. These exhibitions, therefore, preferred works which fit with the general aesthetic and/or subject, which some felt unfairly took the place of technically “better” works. Others like Josef Hoffmann felt Secessionists (the ‘Nur-Maler’ or “painterly purists”) became too commercialized, while Secessionists like Carl Moll believed that Raumkunstler (Interior Artists) like Hoffmann and Klimt placed too much emphasis on the applied arts and presentation of .” 3

…has nothing, absolutely nothing in common with the usual character of an artists’ league. It should be the meeting point of all artistic will…Above all, it should, in a single word, serve “art” and not the artist...6

Klimt aimed to unite artists and designers for the betterment of art as a whole, without calling for the restrictiveness of a traditional collective. This idea negated the mythos that surrounded the lone—almost exclusively male—artist in favor of projecting a sort of unity reflective of modern

Austria. The Klimt Group organized the art exhibition that formed part of the 1908 Kunstschau, an event designed to celebrate emperor Franz Josef’s impressive sixty-year reign.

In theory, the openness of the Secession (and its later offshoot, the Klimt Group) in terms of style, subject matter and medium could have enabled women to participate in the movement.

Some women were in fact successful in carving out space for their work in the exhibitions staged at this “temple” of art. Yet studies of the Secession have only recently begun to acknowledge the presence of these women. This lack of attention to female Secessionists dates back to Carl E.

Schorske’s influential book Fin-De-Siècle Vienna: Politics and Culture, originally published in

1956. 7 This text framed the phenomenon of Viennese modernism in relation to Sigmund

Freud’s (1856-1939) psychoanalytic theory, first published at this time. Schorske’s history thus not only literally excluded women as makers of art and culture, but more indirectly defined art and the artist in relation to an exploration of selfhood that was defined as male by default.

Schorske championed Gustav Klimt, , and , thereby influencing subsequent texts that assumed the Secession to be an exclusive, all-male enterprise.8

6 Gustav Klimt, quoted in Bertha Zuckerkandl, “Ein neuer Kunstbund,” Wiener Allgemeine Zeitung (2 April 1912): 3, translated by and quoted in “An Art of their Own: Reinventing Frauenkunst in the female academies and artist leagues of late-Imperial and First-Republic Austria, 1900-1930,” (PhD diss., Georgetown University, 2010), 239.

7 Carl Schorske, Fin-De-Siècle Vienna: Politics and Culture (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1956), vxiii.

8 Another short list of works written in English, in chronological order, which focus on the male Secessionists include: Gustav Klimt, and Alessandra Comini, Gustav Klimt (New York: G. Braziller, 1975); Kirk Varnedoe, Vienna 1900: art, architecture & design (New York: The Museum of Modern Art, Graphic Society Books/Little, 4

Recently, however, feminist scholarship has begun to reframe our understanding of women’s roles in the Viennese art world at the turn of the century. Jill Lloyd, for example, connected the ideals of the Secession with feminist activism by figures such as Marie Lang,

Auguste Flickert, Bertha Zuckerkandl, and . She posited that Flickert, who formed the General Austrian Women’s Association in 1893 to extend women’s rights in education, saw their movement as a “secession,” “launching a parallel assault on patriarchal society and its outmoded values.”9 As Lloyd noted, women hosted salons frequented by Klimt and other artists in the group. Koller-Pinell was one such figure: she opened her home in

Oberwaltersdorf, outside Vienna, for such informal gatherings. Women attended the group’s frequently-held exhibitions and comprised a large portion of the Secession’s patronage base, oftentimes purchasing works from the design house Wiener Werkstätte, an offshoot of the

Secession formed in 1903.10

Brown, 1986); Charles, Victoria, and Carl, Klaus, The Viennese Secession (New York: Parkstone International, 2012).

9 Jill Lloyd, “Feminists and Femme Fatales: Representing Women in Turn-of-the-Century Vienna,” in Birth of the Modern: Style and Identity in Vienna 1900 eds. Jill Lloyd and Christian Witt-Dörring (, Germany: Hirmer Verlag, 2011), 125. For more on the dynamics of gender in modern Austria, see Britta McEwen. Sexual Knowledge: Feeling, Fact, and Social Reform in Vienna, 1900-1934 (New York: Berghahn Books, 2012). Flickert’s right-hand woman, Rosa Mayreder, co-opened the Art School Association for Women and Girls in 1898. This school gave access to anatomy and chiseling classes with the help of Emil Zuckerkandl, husband to the famed journalist. On the surface, women’s involvement in modern Vienna was improving with the help of social activism and politics; however, many of the women’s art groups were not formed until the 1910s and suffrage was not granted until 1918.

10 Among the scholars who have written along similar lines of female exclusion are Rebecca Houze and Megan Brandow-Faller. Houze looks specifically to themes of domesticity in furniture, embroideries, and objects of the Wiener Kunst im Hause and Wiener Werkstätte. She posits that women’s assumed proclivity for decorative works made in the Kunstgewerbeschule bridged the gap between fine art and craft, embracing associations of the interior and femininity while publicly exhibiting their works. Brandow-Faller developments from the mid nineteenth century to 1930, looking at the varying institutions available to women. See "From Wiener Kunst Im Hause to the Wiener Werkstätte: Marketing Domesticity with Fashionable Interior Design." Design Issues 18, no. 1 (2002): 3-23 and Megan Brandow-Faller, “An artist in every child—A child in every artist”: Artistic toys and art for the child at the Kunstschau 1908.” West 86th: A Journal of Decorative Arts, Design History, and Material Culture 20, no. 2 (2013): 195-225.

5

Likewise, in her 2012 book The Memory Factory: Forgotten Women Artists of Vienna

1900, Julie Johnson considered the exclusion of artists such as Tina Blau, Helene Funke, Teresa

Ries, Elena Luksch-Makowsky, and Koller-Pinell from histories of Viennese modernism. She noted that male-dominated art institutions in this metropolis in fact provided many opportunities for women to participate in the arts, even as they also subjected women artists to subtle acts of exclusion. Elena Luksch-Makowsky’s (1878-1967) career is a case in point. Her Adolescentia, a large-scale female nude, was included in the 1903 Secession exhibition (fig. 3). Johnson argued that Luksch-Makowsky may have been given the opportunity because she was more willing than some of the men in the group to subordinate her picture to the larger design aesthetic of the exhibition (a concept they termed Raumkunst, or “spatial art”). Importantly for my purposes, Johnson also read Luksch-Makowsky’s painting Ver Sacrum, a self-portrait with her son, as a work that directly confronts the Secession’s motto and renegotiates its meaning (Fig. 4 and Fig 5). Swathed in red and holding her naked infant, Luksch-Makowsky herself as a modern-day Madonna. Conjoined with this image, her title suggests that female procreation is a key source for the “sacred spring” the Secession hoped to bring about.

I argue that Marietta, arguably Koller-Pinell’s most ambitious painting, made a similar intervention into the Secession’s ideals, and that scholarly neglect of this work has drastically altered the artist’s reception. Although she has received greater attention in recent years, the current perception of Koller-Pinell still is tainted by the notion that she was an amateur “painting housewife” who worked primarily in the “minor” genre of printmakingMuch of this mindset is indebted to the sole dissertation wholly devoted to the artist, by Austrian scholar Sieglinde

Baumgartner, entitled “Broncia Koller-Pinell: Eine Malerin Zwischen Dillentantmus und

Professional” (“Broncia Koller-Pinell: A Female Painter between Dilettantism and

6

Professionalism”).11 Baumgartner focused her attention on the relationship between Koller-Pinell and her wealthy husband, her painting partner Heinrich Shröder, the Klimt group, and Egon

Schiele in the 1910s and 20s. From this vantage Koller-Pinell is viewed less as an artist in her own right and more as a hostess and side note to the aforementioned men. Perhaps because it does not fit easily into the concept of the artist as dilettante, Baumgartner mentioned Marietta only briefly. Comparing the work to nudes by Klimt and Ferdinand Hodler, the author argued that the painting is merely a study: she interpreted the “sterile” environment and “rigid” posture as evidence that Koller-Pinell simply records the strain of a working model.12 This reading negates the possibility that Koller-Pinell constructed a sophisticated iconography that challenged the dominant male ideologies. In her book, Johnson went some way toward correcting this record of Koller-Pinell’s career. Johnson argued that Koller-Pinell’s domestic genre scenes actually mirrored male Secessionists’ interest in psychological interiority.13 Though Marietta did not directly relate to Johnson’s main theme, she did assert that the painting speaks to the concept of

“art about art” or aestheticism.

11 Although property of the University of Salzburg, it is not digitized, making reference to broader audiences limited. It is only through the immense generosity of Frau Eisenberger, the owner of numerous Koller-Pinell works, that I was able to access the dissertation in hard copy. There are likely other scholars cited in this thesis who were given access to the dissertation because of their credentials. It is not out of the realm of possibility that other materials exist in German that have for various reasons not been made accessible in the United States. However, in regard to the library at the , which is temporarily holding Marietta, they provided only four exhibition catalogs mentioned Koller-Pinell. None go into depth on Marietta. There are also German periodicals footnoted in works like Johnson’s Memory Factory, however they are not public record. See Julie Johnson, The Forgotten Women Artists of Vienna 1900 (West Lafayette, IL: Purdue University Press, 2012).

12 (“Bei Broncia Kollers…Hodler,”) see Baumgartner, “Broncia Koller-Pinell: Eine Malerin Zwischen Dillentantmus und Professional” (PhD diss., University of Salzburg, 1989), 96. On page 130-131, “Das sicher wichtigste…verdienen”. Nearly all of the records used by Baumgartner were not accessible to me during research in Vienna during the summer of 2018; when I contacted the director of the Oberwaltersdorf Museum dedicated to Koller, their director Anton Pribilla informed me there were no other records mentioning the painting.

13 The most well-known scholar to criticize Johnson’s work is Griselda Pollock, who reviewed the book in 2013 in a pointedly titled “Countering memory loss through misrepresentation: what does she think feminist art history is?” Journal of Art Historiography, no. 8 (2013): 1-15.

7

My aim in what follows is to restore greater complexity to our understanding of Marietta and its reception. In chapter one, I argue that Koller-Pinell used Marietta to confront and reinterpret Gustav Klimt’s Nuda Veritas or (Naked Truth) of 1899, a major icon of the Secession movement. In doing this, Koller-Pinell also criticized avant-garde artist’s use of the nude woman to symbolize the “naked truth.” By questioning the gendering of art and the artist in the

Secession—and in modern art writ large—Koller-Pinell pointed directly to the conditions that barred women from full participation. This chapter closely examines the composition of

Marietta and both its realistic and idealistic aspects. In doing so it also examines the importance of language in understanding images like it, namely the gendering of “truth” and the complex distinction between the nude and nakedness.

Koller-Pinell’s use of Christian iconography within Marietta offers a framework for the second chapter. It looks to the resurgence of Byzantine styles in modern Viennese art, as well as the larger issue of anti-Semitism in Austria around the turn of the century. I examine the multiplicity of meaning in the square halo and geometric simplicity of the background to assert that Marietta borrows iconography from Christian images like the Lamentation and entombment of Christ and Byzantine icons. These elements work together to symbolize the rebirth of both the religious icon and the nude as an icon of modern art. In doing so, Koller-Pinell simultaneously partook in and disrupted the tense religious landscape in Vienna that she herself, as a Jewish woman, was embroiled in.

Chapter three examines the broader implications of gender in the 1908 Kunstschau. I take into account the possible reasons for the exclusion of Marietta in conversation with the thirteen other work’s Koller-Pinell presented in the exhibition. I assess how women were represented in other rooms of the Kunstschau, including the artisans who participated in the

8

space dedicated to the Wiener Werkstätte. On a broader level I examine the social and political implications of the Kunstschau, which honored the sixty-year reign of Emperor Franz Josef.

9

CHAPTER 1

MARIETTA: THE NAKED TRUTH

Pure, true, and profound knowledge becomes for him [the artist] and end in itself. Nothing artistically beautiful can be without truth. - Arthur Schopenhauer, World as Will and Representation,1819

Woman is untruthful. An animal has just as little metaphysical reality as the actual woman, but it cannot speak, and consequently it does not lie. In order to speak the truth one must be something. - Otto Weininger, Sex & Character, 1903.

As a naked woman, painted by a woman, Marietta is an ambitious, revelatory, and controversial interpretation of the nude (fig. 1). Its title—a woman’s first name—projects specificity onto the model in a way not usually found in other depicted nudes of the period.14

The minimal setting—which includes white sheets with an edge flush with the picture-plane, and the muted blue and gray walls behind the figure—refuses a specific time and place, but is painted convincingly, as if it represents a real place. The rendering of the woman’s body is also vividly naturalistic, even though her posture is visibly uncomfortable and unnatural. The apparent discomfort of the pose has prompted scholars to cast Marietta as a giant still-life prop or a sketch of a studio model.15 Her neck and right arm are twisted outward and back, pointing slightly towards us as her exaggeratedly long hand curls backwards under her rear. Her elbow, shoulder,

14 We often think of Venus or Olympia as stand in names for allegorical nudes, not the real identity of the model. Sieglinde Baumgartner notes that Marietta was also a model for Klimt. She is from Trieste, but few other details have emerged on her identity. The inclusion of her name would therefore add another layer of complexity to the image and infer a direct confrontation of Klimt by Koller. See Julie Johnson, Memory Factory: The Forgotten Women Artists of Vienna 1900, 116.

15Marietta and the composition as a whole are read as an ode to the still life and studio by Julie Johnson, Memory Factory, 116-17. Johnson also offers the possibility that the square is the Renaissance “abstract harmony golden mean” or that it is an homage to Klimt’s Margarethe Stonborough-Wittgenstein (1905). The assertion of the reference to Stonborough-Wittgenstein or his first portrait of Adele Bloch-Bauer, also from 1907, are most problematic because they remove the symbolic significance of the painting and diminish the possibility of Koller looking to deeper art historical trends and allegories. For information on Koller’s potential reference to French art, see Agnes Husslein-Arco, ed. Wien-Paris: Van Gogh, Cézanne und Österreichs Moderne 1880-1960, Austrian Gallery Belvedere, October 3, 2007-January 13, 2008 (Vienna: Christian Brandstaetter, 2007), 103. Exhibition catalog. 10

and kneecaps are sharp, both from her thinness and the tension of her pose. Her slightly drooping breasts and lower belly hint at the way actual bodies obey gravity, and their fleshiness is reminiscent of classicized nudes. The sitter’s auburn hair, dark blue eyes, and wine-red lips, as well as the small—but prominent—triangle of hair between her legs are the few saturated elements in the painting. The golden square that frames her head glows, sending a warm light down the front of her chest. These vibrant elements call our attention to the woman’s gaze, her head or source of intellect, and her sexuality. The surface below her dips slightly under her buttocks, and the sheets bunch beneath her heels, creating an exaggerated shadow that suggests she is pushing herself upward. Marietta’s fair, stippled skin is exaggerated by purplish shadows at her collarbones, inner arm, and the distinct, darkened outline of her entire body.

Koller-Pinell may have had a variety of avant-garde nudes in mind when painting

Marietta, including Édouard Manet’s (1832-1883) infamous Olympia (1863; exhibited 1865).

However, I believe that this work responds specifically to Gustav Klimt’s Nuda Veritas, which identified the body of a nude woman with the principle of truth. Klimt’s prominence as one of the founders of the Secession, and Nuda Veritas’s emblematic power, together made the painting an ideal target for thinking through the movement’s ideals. In Klimt’s image, the nude figure stares straight out at us with blazing white eyes, glimmering teeth, and wild copper hair.

Although her breasts are partially covered by her curls, she exudes unbridled sexuality through the daisies littering her hair, her exaggeratedly wide hips, and her prominent tuft of pubic hair.

She holds a mirror tightly to her chin and points it confrontationally outward to reflect back to the viewer the truth that she contains. But the golden, floral spirals and diaphanous black and blue background removes her from reality, and her unrestrained hair and the menacing snake coiled around her ankles positions her as a fantastical femme fatale. The serpent runs through the

11

title, “NUDA VERITAS,” highlighted in a golden rectangle. The caption above the figure, positioned in a matching gold square, quotes from the German philosopher Friedrich Schiller

(1759-1805): “If you cannot please everyone with your deeds and your art, please only a few. To please many is bad.”16 This passage urged modern artists to be rebellious. It also associated the

“naked truth,” as incarnated by a beautiful woman, with the Secessionists’ avant-garde, bohemian rebellion against bourgeois society and its retrograde tastes in art.

Truthfulness for the Secessionists signified two interrelated concepts. Truth symbolized freedom from the banal conventionality of academic painting. It also alluded to the workings of the mind, theorized at this time by Freud. The Secessionists considered the idealized naturalism and classical subject matter favored by the Academy too formulaic, and ill-suited to the dynamic modern world. They advocated that artists un-learn academic convention and return to a more authentic, naïve or untrained manner of painting. This interest in a more truthful mode of rendering would, they believed, better express the individual spirit of the artist—a notion underpinned by Freud’s studies of the human psyche, in which dreams and repressed sexuality played a key role.

As I note above, critics like Hermann Bahr characterized Secessionist works as beacons of “truth as each person perceives it,” highlighting the individuality and subjectivity of its many group members.17 Austrian Composer Max von Millenovich (Morold) (1866-1945) opened the

16 The provenance of Schiller’s idea here is unattributed; however, he often wrote on art in works such as his poem book, Die Künstler, 1890.

17 Leslie Topp, Architecture and Truth in Fin-de-Siècle Vienna (Cambridge: Cambridge University, 2004), 30. Truthful art for the Secessionists also included architecture, which strove to become a total work of art or Gesamtkunstwerk. Topp cites four variants or tenants of truthful architectural design amongst those in the Secession circle, which underlines further contradiction in their interpretation. For the Secessionist architects, truth intends to “elevate and make profound art and architecture beyond artifice”; is apparent to a “feeling artistic subject who has a fundamental affinity with the truth of a world which is permeated with the same life force which fills him” or is “connected with the origins of civilization in evocations of classical and pre-classical architecture.” Lastly, truth for 12

first edition of the Secessionist-run magazine, Ver Sacrum, declaring that “truth is the principle of modern painting, but not the outer and external truth of the naturalists and the verists, rather the inner truth, the subjective truth, the truthfulness of the artistic individual.”18 Both men made clear that truth is subjective; nevertheless, they did not specify the manner of creating said truth other than a rejection of naturalist art. However, Marold later contradicted himself and accepted a “pluralistic” approach to truth, saying,

if someone sees things like a naturalist, then he can be a naturalist; if someone has a picture in his mind’s eye, which presents the austere forms of an era of art long past, then he should not be ashamed to revive these forms…But the inner urge must never be inhibited nor the individual conviction broken.19

The clear issue here is the subjectivity of all of these terms, at one point allowing for a freedom in artistic expression, and at another, a lack of cohesive vision and understanding of the

Secessionists and what comprised their reality.

Koller-Pinell’s Marietta exposes the falsity of Klimt’s version of the truth—or, at the very least it asks, “whose truth are we looking at?” It does so by adapting Nuda Veritas in several ways. First, Koller-Pinell rotated the erect woman in Nuda Veritas, who looks like a statue on a pedestal, from a vertical to a horizontal orientation.20 This shift in composition allows

the Secessionists could be religious in nature, which Topp suggests was embodied by the comparison of the Secession building to a temple. 52.

18 Translation by me. „..Wahrheit ist das Princip der modernen Malereri, aber nicht die äussere und äusserliche Wahrheit der Naturalisten und Veristen, sondern die innere Wahrheit, die subjective Wahrheit, die Wahrhaftigkeit des künstlerischen Individuums...“ in Max Millenovich, “Wahrheit und Schönheit in modernen Malerei.” Ver Sacrum 1, no.1 (October 1898): 12-20 quoted in Beatriz Colomina, “Sex, Lies and Decoration: and Gustav Klimt,” Thresholds 37 (2010): 58.

19 Translation by me. “Sieht einer die Dinge so wie der Naturalist, so möge er Naturlist sein; hat einer ein Bild im Geiste geschaut, das die herben Formen einer längst vergangenen Kunstepoche aufweist, so scheue er sich nicht, diese Formen neu zu beleben...Aber niemals darf der innere Drang gehemmt und die eigene Überzeugung gbrochen werden.“ Max Millenovich Marold, “Wahrheit und Schönheit in modernen Malerei.” 19-20.

20 For discussion of the complexities of presenting female sexuality and the nudes by women at the turn of the century, see Claudine Mitchell, “Intellectuality and Sexuality: Camille Claudel, the Fin-de-Siècle Sculptress,” Art History 12, no. 4 (December 1989): 419-447. 13

the work to speak to both renditions of truth or reality and the wider genre of the nude. In some ways, a reclined rather than standing figure shows the contours of the body more naturally, because the increased surface area of the flesh against a surface. Koller-Pinell’s nude is removed from a fantastical netherworld to be situated in a more believable, studio-like interior; the imprint of her body weight is even visible on the furniture beneath her. Furthermore, unlike the foggy facture and dim lighting of Nuda Veritas, which veil the woman’s identity and the contours of her body, the figure in Marietta is starkly lit, exposing her specific dimples and curves. While

Klimt’s nude stands stiffly, full-frontal, facing the viewer in a challenging manner, Marietta’s twisted neck and hunched shoulders make us feel that she inhabits her body and experiences the muscular strain of the position she holds. The control in her gaze makes her seem focused in thought and content because of it. She acknowledges and accepts her nakedness, thus owning her sexuality both physically and psychologically.

Most importantly, Marietta questions the seeming reality of a mirror’s reflection. Koller-

Pinell also substituted for Klimt’s mirror the gold square behind Marietta’s head. While we can read this element as a mirror of sorts, it also could be seen as a frame for her face: a picture within the picture that plays with our perceptions of reality and invention. Further, this changed perspective and exclusion of the mirror allows Marietta to escape associations of female vanity or the deceiving nature of reflection. The absence of the mirror in Marietta seems a deliberate response to Nuda Veritas, perhaps suggesting that paintings can never represent a complete reality. Images that bounce back from a reflective surface are always illusions, or a version of reality which “in one way or another, and to one degree or another, resembles nature.”21

21 Norman E. Land. “The Fiction of Bellini’s “Truth”” Source: Notes in the History of Art, 18 no. 3 (Spring 1999): 18.

14

A History of The Nude as Truth

In her analysis of Klimt’s Nuda Veritas, Catherine Keller posited that the mirror contradicted itself—not only because it is secondary to the entrancing nude, but also because it is too clouded and small to reflect reality to viewers of the work.22 The woman and her mirror,

Keller argued, “[bounce] the gaze back upon itself, at once revealing and short-circuiting the objectification she seems to invite.”23 This conflates a clear separation between the subject, object, and viewer of the work. Although Klimt’s Veritas intends to offer self-reflection, the viewer cannot escape admiring the woman’s sexually-charged body and how “her gaze, as it withdraws, does not let us withdraw from our own materiality.”24 Nuda Veritas’ body and piercing eyes are so striking that viewers are almost entranced, and therefore cannot pause for their own self-reflection. They are also unable to reflect upon their own truths when what they view is so clearly unrealistic; the mirror fails in its believed ability to provide us with a reflection of reality. Rather, it submits its power to the mysterious woman, the dreamlike setting, and the snake, who blend together into one decorative composition that is clearly fantastical. As Keller put it, there is “something about this figure with her mirror-like eyes and eyes like mirrors, this materiality in flagrante, [that] keeps signaling. She sees [us] seeing her seeing the others seeing

22 The irony of the mirror within Klimt’s Nuda Veritas aligns with another rendition of the Naked Truth from 1515. Giovanni Bellini’s Truth (Self-Knowledge) features a mirror that reflects a man dressed in red, standing in the dark. Instead of the reality of the painted scene, the mirror “reflects a space that is seemingly not continuous with the space of the loggia because we see nothing of it or its inhabitants in the glass.” However, by showing a non-descript man, various viewers of the work would have read the man as an imaginary viewer of the scene and are not asked to see themselves specifically. See Norman E. Land, “The Fiction of Bellini’s “Truth”,”” 16. Other renditions of truth, such as Ferdinand Hodler’s Truth (Day), 1898, remove the mirror all-together.

23 Catherine Keller, “Nuda Veritas: Iconoclash and Incarnation,” in Intercarnations (New York: Fordham University Press, 2017), 48.

24 Keller, “Nuda Veritas: Iconoclash and Incarnation,” 51. For discussion on the role of Byzantine icons within Klimt and Koller-Pinell’s work, see chapter two of this thesis.

15

themselves seeing her.”25 Keller posited that avant-garde artists used the nude to access a truth

“concealed by religion,” suggesting that truth comes from sexual physicality.

By both abstracting and simplifying Nuda Veritas, Koller-Pinell more successfully evoked truth. Marietta offers viewers a platform for their individualized idea(s) of reality and truth that Klimt and prior artists fail to provide because it is shrouded in fantasy. The reality is that Marietta is not the sinful or threatening Neue Frau, femme fatale, or modern woman Klimt portrays as truth. Both the Neue Frau and the femme fatale were powerful and dangerous women because they upset the balance between genders through their sexuality. This does not mean that Marietta did not hold her own agency, but rather that her control did not come from a physical embodiment of carnal sexuality. Rather, control is in her clear and confrontational gaze and awareness of her nakedness. Whereas Klimt’s Veritas assumed the truth through a heterosexual gaze, Koller-Pinell’s Marietta refuted it. Klimt implied that just as men are the ones who craft the truth via the female nude, that they are the ones seeking access to it; by contrast, Koller-Pinell asked viewers to see the female body in less explicitly idealized, mythologized, and thus unrealistic terms.

While Koller-Pinell’s immediate referent may have been Klimt’s Nuda Veritas, the artist also was negotiating a tradition of using the female body as an allegory of truth, dating back at least to the fifteenth century.26 The female form in these allegories is reduced to a symbolic vessel that suggests women are not concrete beings but rather concepts that need explanation by

25 Keller, 50.

26 Marina Warner posits that the first personification of truth comes from the Old Testament (Ps. 85:10-11 AV) and that visual manifestations began in the 12th century in works such as the Jesse Tree from the Lambeth Bible. Erwin Panofsky discovered a capital drawing of Truth dated to c. 1350. Curiously, “Truth” was originally a clothed virgin. See Marina Warner, Monuments & Maidens: The Allegory of the Female Form, 1st American ed. (New York: Atheneum. 1985), 314-316.

16

men or higher powers. For example, in Sandro Botticelli’s Calumny of Apelles 1494-5, the figure of Veritas points to the heavens, suggesting a truth only attainable through religion; she is a conduit for God’s message, and her body the vessel through which His truth is shared (fig. 6).

Cesare Ripa’s widely influential 1603 treatise on iconography, Iconologia, also represents truth through the female nude. His Verita holds the sun to symbolize its illumination of knowledge

(fig. 7). Her likewise muscular, partially covered and hairless body reads more sexually neutral.

The sun retains the celestial symbolism and power in Botticelli’s work, suggesting again that it is not the woman herself who provides us with the truth, but a higher power which acts through or upon her. Edouard Debat-Ponsan Truth Coming Out of the Well (1898) which, like Klimt’s roughly contemporaneous painting, associates this figure with the mirror reflecting reality back to the viewer (fig. 8).

Marietta both participated in and comments upon other canonical nudes of the 19th century in order to critique the reductive treatment of women. For example, a comparison of

Koller’s painting with Gustave Courbet’s (1819-1877) The Painter’s Studio: A Real Allegory

Summing Up Seven Years of My Artistic Life from 1855 reveals the staged fictitiousness of his

“real allegory” (fig. 9). In the latter painting, a nude woman stands as an allegory for Courbet’s

Realism—his apparently truthful rendering of the world as it is. Yet both Courbet and his nude model are portrayed in an unrealistic studio space filled by a massive crowd of onlookers that would not have been assembled in any conceivable time or place. The nude in Courbet’s work is intended to operate as Marietta does, as a symbol of reality. However, his anonymous model is not portrayed at work, but rather admires the artist as he works on a landscape. In reality,

17

Courbet’s work is a meditation on the act of painting, essentially a painting about painting—as is

Marietta, but only at first glance.27

Marietta also loosely quotes Manet’s Olympia, a modern take on the genre of the reclining nude (fig. 10). Olympia refers to and disrupts precedents like Titian’s Venus of Urbino

(1538) which celebrates the beauty of the female body. Not only did Manet refuse to idealize the nude, but he mobilized conflicting signifiers of the model’s social class.28 The red-haired models—Victorine and Marietta—with milky white skin, direct gazes, and the abstracted, starkly outlined bodies resemble one another. However, a closer comparison also shows that Koller-

Pinell departed from Manet’s canonical nude. Koller did not include the attendant with her bouquet of flowers, or the accoutrements such as shoes, shawl and jewelry, which associate the

“truth” of Manet’s image with prostitution. Koller’s removal of these signifiers averts a sexual and economic exchange between Marietta and the imaginary viewer. Further, unlike Olympia,

Marietta does not coyly cover or lightly cup her pubis, which could allude to masturbation. In

Olympia, the intentional covering of genitals is, in fact, counterintuitive: it draws the viewer’s attention to her sexuality and ability to please herself without a man. With the visual language of

Olympia in mind, and the inclusion of a halo-like aura, Marietta complicates the boundaries of the nude woman. By re-examining Manet’s “real” rendition of an early canonical nude, Venus of

27 Johnson contends that Marietta is set in a studio space and is thus “nothing more than herself, a paid model in the studio” akin to Seurat’s Les Poseuses, 1888 and as a foil to Olympia, 1863. See Johnson, Memory Factory: The Forgotten Women Artists of Vienna 1900, 163. For discussion on Courbet’s work as allusion to creation see Petra Ten-Doesschate, “Showing Making in Courbet’s The Painter’s Studio” 62-72 In Hiding Making- Showing Creation: The Studio from Turner to Tacita Dean, edited by Rachel Esner, Sandra Kisters and Ann-Sophie Lehmann. Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2013. For the contradictions of Realism, see Linda Nochlin, Realism. London: Penguin Books, 1971.

28 See T.J Clark, “Olympia’s Choice,” in The Painting of Modern Life: Paris in the Art of Manet and his followers (Princeton: Princeton University, 1984). 2nd Edition. See also Darcy Grimaldo Grigby, “Still Thinking about Olympia’s Maid,” The Art Bulletin, 97 no. 4 (Dec 2015): 430-451.

18

Urbino, Marietta rejects the false, unidimensional identity of the mythological Venus and the deviant Olympia.

Language and the Gendering of Truth

Marietta reminds us that the supposedly real women Courbet and Manet depicted are unidimensional types, idealized embodiments definable in one to two words. This way of interpreting a depicted female nude is explored in Maria Warner’s Monuments and Maidens.

Warner examined the unclothed body as allegory, discussing the perpetuation of Medieval thinking and the four variants of nudity. She outlined nuditas criminalis, nuditas naturalis, nuditas temporalis, and nuditas virtualis. Nuditas criminalis, according to Warner, is the sinful naked body like that of Olympia or Klimt’s serpent-bound Nuda Veritas. Nuditas naturalis describes children and the Edenic nude, which should “inspire humility since man alone among the animals has no covering…”29 Nuditas temporalis is metaphorically free of worldly possession and status, such as Mary Magdalen or Mary of Egypt, while nuditas virtualis is the most innocent and purified of the four types. In sum, Warner asserts that,

The naked female subject in art often expresses this elusive other, residing outside the confines of our flawed and fallen world, in some natural and primal paradise for which nakedness can be a sign. Yet this conflation of nature and woman only continues the false perception that neither is inside culture, that women do not participate in it, let alone create it. The converse is true. Both—women and nature—are essential parts of an indivisible civilization, which cannot continue without them.30

In the removal of natural and fantastical elements seen in Klimt’s Nuda Veritas, or the sinful material goods and removal of clothes in Olympia, Marietta complicates these variants of the

29 Warner, Monuments and Maidens: The Allegory of the Female Form, 295

30 Warner, 324-325.

19

nude. Further, Marietta’s unnatural position, sexual pubic hair, confrontational gaze, and halo- like crown refuses to belong to any one of these categories: nuditas criminalis, nuditas naturalis, nuditas temporalis, and nuditas virtualis.

The language and gender used to represent and define truth (Nuda Veritas) also shaped

Klimt and Koller-Pinell’s variants of this complex concept. 31 The personification of objects and concepts flourished from the thirteenth to the eighteenth centuries, primarily assigning abstract concepts to the feminine gender and virtues like intelligence, instruction, pride and “natural” instinct.32 Several scholars address this important role of gender in understanding truth and other virtues, recognizing that such abstract nouns often possess feminine gender signifiers and therefore, imagery. Londa Schiebinger, for example, noted that in Latin, truth is veritas, French, la vérité, German Die Wahrheit and Italian la verità. Petru Bejan applied this language directly to visual manifestations of truth. He argued that this continual mode of gendering the virtue connotes attainment and possession, as if truth “had concreteness, a distinct body, tempting us with its charms.” 33 At its core, women are presented as empty objects for ideas and ideals to be projected upon; by giving abstract concepts female identities, this stabilizes gender, allowing men of action to produce and thus attain.34 Koller’s reformed truth, therefore, opens a space for

31 As far back as ancient Greece, truth is anthropomorphically translated to nakedness. Some accounts site Horace discussing “nuda veritas” and Petronius “nuda virtus.” Warner, 315.

32 Morton W. Bloomfield, "A Grammatical Approach to Personification Allegory," Modern Philology 60 (Feb. 1963): 163 quoted in Londa Schiebinger, “Feminine Icons: The Face of Early Modern Science,” Critical Inquiry, 14 no. 4 (Summer, 1988): 664.

33 Petru Bejan, “Can we represent the truth?” Hermeneia: Journal of Hermeneutics, Art Theory & Criticism no. 14 (2014): 6.

34Also See A. Meillet, Linguistique historique et linguistique generale (Paris and Geneva, 1982), pp. 211-29. The distinction between animate and inanimate things in Sanskrit predates gender distinctions. In Greek, the inanimate category of things became neuter while the animate category was further divided by gender. In modern Romance languages, the neuter has again been absorbed into animate categories. Within this category, action nouns generally became masculine while actions became feminine. Thus, in French, le juge (a judge) is masculine while la justice 20

women to take ownership of their reality. However, by intentionally posing Marietta as an object, Koller aligned with the semiotic (male) concept of the nude and truth. This cemented her as a competitor for the Klimt Group and modernism at large, while criticizing the heart of its movement.

Issues of language, namely “nakedness” versus “nudity,” also affect how we as viewers understand images like Nuda Veritas, Olympia, and Marietta. The nude as a genre refers to

Venuses, Odalisques, and other fictional types. Such literary or mythological nudes constituted one of the most important genres for male artists in European art beginning in the eighteenth century.35 The nude often signaled progression of modernity and transition in artistic styles. In the case of Marietta, the model is personally identified, and she appears startled by the viewer interrupting her in her intentionally artificial pose. These aspects underscore Koller’s critique of

Klimt’s abstracted Veritas and can suggest Marietta is naked and not a nude.36

The terminology used for the unclothed form is often subtle, but it is widely accepted that women who are posed, painted, and sculpted for the sake of fine art or allegory are nudes. The difference may lie in activity: the nude is posed for its own or a viewer’s aesthetic pleasure, while those who are naked are in a state of transition, captured in their everyday environment.

While a nude is a genre in and of itself, to be naked is to be undressed, potentially scandalously.

As Kenneth Clark noted,

To be naked is to be deprived of our clothes, and the word implies some of the embarrassment most of us feel in that condition. The word 'nude,' on the other hand,

(justice) is feminine. See Warner, 66-68.” Londa Schiebinger, “Feminine Icons: The Face of Early Modern Science,” 672

35 Leslie Bostrom and Marlene Malik, “Re-Viewing the Nude,” Art Journal 58, no. 1 (Spring, 1999), 46.

36 Olympia is more complicated, because she was liminally, and problematically, positioned between the nude and the naked. Her reference to classical reclined nudes complicates her definition because the figure of Olympia was in reality modeled from Manet’s known lover Victorine, and because “Olympia” was a common moniker for prostitutes in modern Paris. 21

carries, in educated usage, no uncomfortable overtone. The vague image it projects into the mind is not of a huddled and defenseless body, but of a balanced, prosperous, and confident body: the body re-formed.37

In the studio setting specifically, the naked—often female body—becomes nude. This shift in language “[suppresses] the erotic and [maintains] control and propriety.”38 In what Bostrom and

Malik called the “aesthetic distance,” the nude model is “un-naked and thus not sexual, social, or political.39

Is the figure in Marietta herself a contradiction? It would seem so, for she is named and uncomfortably posed like a naked model, but she is also stylized and intended for a broader symbolic purpose, like a nude. Koller-Pinell’s negotiation with the ideals and practice of modernism in Vienna at the turn of the century through the female form helps us to better understand the Secession, and in particular the role of women in the movement. Although some of her paintings conformed to traditional genres of “women’s art,” such as still-lives and traditional portraits, Marietta did not. Koller-Pinell’s reference to canonical nudes and past allegories solidified her understanding of the history of art and presented her as a serious modern artist.

37 Kenneth Clark, The Nude: A Study in Ideal Form (Princeton, N.J: Princeton University Press, 1972), 3; See also Lynda Nead, The Female Nude: Art, Obscenity, and Sexuality (London: Routledge, 1992).

38 Leslie Bostrom and Marlene Malik, “Re-Viewing the Nude,” 43.

39 Bostrom and Malik, 43. For more information on the progression of the nude in modern art, see Richard D. Leppert, The Nude: the Cultural Rhetoric of the Body in the Art of Western Modernity (Boulder, Colo: Westview Press, 2007); Helen McDonald, Erotic Ambiguities the Female Nude in Art (London: Routledge, 2002).

22

CHAPTER 2

ICON OF OTHERNESS: RELIGIOUS IDENTITY IN MARIETTA

Many of those that sleep in the dust of the earth will awake, some to eternal life, others to reproaches, to everlasting abhorrence. And the wise will be radiant like the bright expanse of sky, and those who lead the many to righteousness will be like the stars forever and ever.

Daniel 12:2–3

In addition to the history of using the nude to signify artistic truth, Marietta addresses the representation of religious truth. Formally and iconographically, Koller-Pinell’s Marietta referred to the Neo-Byzantine style among members of the Secession—a style they associated with a more authentic, truthful mode of artmaking. The flattened, simplified composition and use of gold leaf in Marietta are adaptations of the Neo-Byzantine revival and, in particular, the icon, a type that was popularized in modern Austrian art through Gustav Klimt. The golden square behind the figure and the color choices of white, gray and light blue in the composition allude to the reductive colors of Byzantine mosaics. Furthermore, the compressed, simplified geometric background of the painting aligns with the compositions of mosaics and frescos, which were concerned less with naturalistic representation than with visual literacy and biblical narrative.

Marietta is also quite literally stripped down to the most legible elements: the halo, a cloth- covered surface, and a female form.40 In adapting aspects of Byzantine art, in which the image or icon itself was considered more truthful than words, Koller-Pinell extended her confrontation with Klimt’s Nuda Veritas and other iterations of the “naked truth” discussed in Chapter 1.

Byzantine art as it relates to ideas of racial, ethnic and religious otherness also allowed the artist, a Jewish woman, to address the anti-Semitic atmosphere of Vienna at that time.

40 For information on the nude in Byzantine art, see Henry Maguire, “Other Icons: The Classical Nude in Byzantine Bone and Ivory Carvings,” The Journal of the Walters Art Museum 62 (2004): 9-20.

23

Marietta—red haired, fair skinned and blue eyed—is not shown as distinctly “Jewish” in the painting, but the references to “primitive” Byzantine art exoticized her in ways stereotypically associated with the “Oriental” Jewish woman. To understand how this iconography operated in modernity, a brief section of this chapter is dedicated to the reception of Byzantine art and architecture in Austria and Europe, and to an extent how it aligned with stereotypes of otherness and Jewishness. I also consider Marietta on a personal level for the artist: Koller-Pinell did not convert to Catholicism at the time of her marriage to her Catholic husband Hugo Koller, but she raised her children as Catholics. This suggests that Koller-Pinell was concerned with perceptions of the artist’s faith identity and the backlash its public acknowledgment could entail.

Byzantium in Austria-Hungary

With its references to the stylistic characteristics and typical iconography of Byzantine art, Marietta participated in a wider revival that originated in the seventeenth century and peaked between the middle of the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries in Austria-Hungary, especially in the work of prominent Secessionists.41 Byzantine art encompassed works from the

Middle Ages in the Byzantine Empire, whose capital was Constantinople. The use of gold, mosaics and flattened perspective were the three most characteristic stylistic elements of

Byzantine art. Architecturally, Byzantium favored the use of domes often covered in mosaic or frescos, used to merge the art with its setting. Artists like Gustav Klimt were drawn to the seeming “otherness” of Byzantine art: associating this culture with the “Orient,” they were intrigued by excavations of sites in the Middle East whose objects recently had joined European

41 See Rampley, The Vienna School of Art History: Empire and the Politics of Scholarship, 1847–1918 (University Park: The Pennsylvania State University Press, 2013).

24

collections.42 Klimt’s trips in 1903 to Ravenna and Venice, which likely included a visit to San

Marco Basilica, are said to have made a “tremendous, decisive impression” on him, inspiring him to write of the mosaics’ “unprecedented splendor.”43 His encounter with these works prompted Klimt to further stylize the bodies of his sitters, burying them in hieroglyphic-like eye and triangle motifs. Art historians of this period, such as the Austrian iconographer Josef

Strzygowski (1862-1941) also lauded art of the “Orient” and Byzantium as a bridge between the ancient and medieval artistic worlds in his widely-read yet controversial books Orient or Rome:

Contributions to the history of late antique and early Christian art (1901) and Asia Minor: A

New Region for Art History (1903).44

Fin-de-siècle culture vacillated between appreciation and degradation of Byzantine art.45

In the early 19th century, the German philosopher Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel (1770-1831) criticized the flattened perspective of Byzantine mosaics, calling them a “disgusting picture of

42 It was this interest in truth and the juxtaposition between what was perceived as the “primitive” or “pure” nature of Byzantine art and its penchant toward “excess, decadence, and depravity” that appealed to modernist artists and architects. To a central European eye, Byzantine art was primitive. It lacked in formulaic perspective, was “extraordinarily skilled” but also as clearly two-dimensional, with flatness as its defining feature. However, the exaggerated flatness in Byzantine icons was commonly seen by modern as intensely spiritual and honest. Byzantine artists went even further and privileged the image, claiming that words could lie but images conveyed the truth. See Averil Cameron, "The Realms of Gold." In Byzantine Matters (Princeton, N.J: Princeton University Press), 74.

43 Lenz, 86 quoted in Frank Whitford, Klimt, (London: Thames & Hudson, 1990) quoted in J.B Bullen, Byzantium Rediscovered (London; New York: Phaidon, 2003), 49. See also Peter Vergo, Art in Vienna (London: Phaidon, 1898-1918), 82.

44 See Allan Marquand, “Strzygowski and His Theory of Early Christian Art” The Harvard Theological Review 3 no. 3 (July 1910): 357-365. Strzygowski’s polemical works used positive discrimination to appreciate Byzantium’s naïve approach to the human form, and therefore viewed it through the lens of the primitive “other.”

45 J.B Bullen, Byzantium Rediscovered, 8. Much of this influence manifested itself in churches and synagogues within the Austro-Hungarian empire. The Leopoldstadt synagogue in Vienna, built in 1858 by Ludwig Förster, was a manifestation of “Orient” culture that equated the “Arab world” to the Jews, compounding ideas of ethnic and religious otherness. Otto Wagner’s Leopold Am Steinhof, built from 1905-1907 is an example which blended ideas of “East” and “West.” Adorned with gold mosaics by Remigius Geyling and stained glass by Koloman Moser, Leopold am Steinhof celebrated the opulence of Byzantine artistry through modern technique.

25

imbecility.”46 Later, in a major text devoted to modern Austrian art, Jewish journalist and critic

Ludwig (Lagos) Hevesi (1843-1910) wrote favorably of the Byzantine influence on Klimt’s work, noting,

…his phantasmagorias, great and small, are still beyond the comprehension of the simpleton in art, for they really mark something new in ornamental painting…Something like a mosaic of vague metals and enamels, lovely as jewels to the eye, like the féerie of the Byzantine mosaics of Ravenna, Palermo and the Church of St. Mark, is the Fata Morgana which leads the artist on…on the contrary, it has a certain harsh loveliness, like the Primitives, and the eye leaves it refreshed.47

Hevesi fetishized the holy images of the Byzantine style, describing them as vividly as Klimt would them.

This mixed critical response to the turn-of-the-century Byzantine revival illuminates the complex ways that racial and religious signifiers related to politics and national identity in

Austria. It speaks to the unique dynamic present between Austria-Hungary and the “Orient” because of its lack of colonial rule and its borders which straddled the “East.”48 As Matthew

Rampley noted, the large population of Serbians and Romanians gave the Austro-Hungarian empire a unique perspective on and definition of the “Orient” through cultural, ethnic, and religious terms.49 The reality of a multiethnic Austrian identity conflicted with the desire for a monolithically white and Christian demographic.

46 G.W.F Hegel, Philosophy of History III, (Leipzig; , 1890), 353 quoted in Matthew Rampley, The Vienna School of Art History, 169.

47 Ludwig Hevesi, “Modern Painting in Austria,” 6 in Art Revival in Austria eds. Charles Holme (London: Studio Magazine Series, 1906). See also Gretchen Kreahling McKay, “An Eastern Medieval Revival: Byzantine Art and Nineteenth-Century French Painting” in Studies in Medievalism XVI: Medievalism in Technology Old and New, edited by Karl Fugelso and Carol L. Robinson (Suffolk, U.K: Boydell & Brewer, D. S. Brewer, 2008): 48-66.

48 However, Austria-Hungary annexed the Ottoman territories of Bosnia and Herzegovina in 1908 after 30 years of administering them.

49Austria-Hungary to this day has a largely mixed population from surrounding countries towards the east.

26

Vienna and the Orient: Gold Women

In Klimt’s “Gold Period” of 1899-1910, he often used Byzantine style and themes to

Orientalized the female subjects in his paintings: both in fictional images of Biblical heroines and in portraits of his wealthy Jewish patrons.50 He frequently represented Biblical heroines in ways that corresponded with positive discrimination toward Jewish women at that time: they often were said to possess rare beauty, virtuous and maternal dispositions, and spiritual auras.51

In his rendering of the beautiful widow Judith, famous for tempting and beheading the Assyrian general Holofernes, Klimt shows her topless with an exaggerated halo of dark hair, surrounded by gold and decapitated by an ornate gilded necklace (fig. 11). Her cheeks are flushed from sexual excitement and her, thin fingers clutch the head of Holofernes to emphasize her carnality.

Klimt employed semi-precious gems and gold leaf, along with the flattened, mosaic-like style of antiquated wall murals and frescos, to associate the Byzantine style with the luxury and exoticism of the “Oriental” Jewish woman. In his rendering of Adele Bloch Bauer, for example, the sitter is enrobed in a golden off-the-shoulder gown replete with stylized black, white and gold eyeball (fig. 12). Her jet-black hair is piled on her head in a gravity defying bouffant. Other than her bare shoulders and bent hands, Bloch-Bauer’s body disappears behind the ornamentation of her gown and the mosaic background. A small piece of green in the lower left corner divides the dabbled gold background from the floor and Bloch-Bauer’s body. Klimt’s emphasis on luxury reinforced the association of Jewish women with greedy materialism: when

50 Both Klimt and his brother Ernst Klimt were trained goldsmiths, and often had a hand in their own gilded frames. Klimt also owned numerous Asian artefacts. See Tobias G. Natter, “The Golden Age of Colour Woodcuts in Vienna around 1900: The Milestones and Diversity of Their Development,” in Art for All : Der Farbholzschnitt in Wien Um 1900 = the Colour Woodcut in Vienna Around 1900 = La Gravure Sur Bois En Couleur a Vienne Vers 1900 eds. Max Hollein, Tobias G. Natter, and Klaus Albrecht Schröder. (Koln: Taschen, 2016), 37.

51 Carol Ockman, “2-LARGE-EYEBROWS-A-L-ORIENTALE, ETHNIC STEREOTYPING IN INGRES ‘BARONNE DE ROTHSCHILD,” Art History 14, no. 4 (December 1991): 525.

27

the painting was exhibited, critics called Bloch Bauer a “prisoner of her enormous wealth” and an “idol on a golden shrine.”52 This treatment of his sitter echoed other portraits of wealthy

Jewish patrons, such as Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres’s Baronne de Rothschild (1848; fig.

13). Critics described the sitter in Orientalizing terms, noting for example that her eyebrows were of the “East.”53

Whereas Klimt used the Byzantine style to both eroticize and exoticize the Jewish woman, Koller-Pinell confined her use of the Neo-Byzantine style to the icon-like gold square framing Marietta’s head. Instead of being suffocated by an array of gold designs, and choked by a jeweled necklace, Koller-Pinell’s Marietta draws attention to the corporeal nature of her sitter.

However, by making her an icon, Koller-Pinell also ultimately suggested purity or authenticity that was absent from the grandiose portraits of those like Frau Bloch-Bauer.

The Square Halo: Corporeal Sign or Saintly Signifier?

As I note above, the square gold shape replaces the mirror in Klimt’s Nuda Veritas. It could be understood as the golden frame of a picture-within-the-picture.54 One way to see that picture is as a portrait of a specific model. However, it is equally possible to read this image as an icon. The similarity of the name given in the work’s title to perhaps one of the most

52 Bullen, 51.

53 “une chevelure à reflets bleuâtres comme l’aile du corbeau’ and ‘deux grands sourcils à l’orientale’ see Ockman, “2-LARGE-EYEBROWS-A-L-ORIENTALE, ETHNIC STEREOTYPING IN INGRES ‘BARONNE DE ROTHSCHILD,” 523.

54 A prime example of illusions to portraits is found in Henri Fantin-Latour’s A Studio at Les Batignolles, 1870 in which he frames the head of Renoir to single him out in the group of theorists and artists. This is seen as a commentary on Baudelaire’s idea of the individual artist in modern life. See Bridget Alsdorf, “Introduction” and “Studio of the Self” in Fellow Men: Fantin-Latour and the Problem of the Group in Nineteenth-Century French Painting (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2013), 1-18, 105-155.

28

important earthly icons, the Virgin Mary, seems particularly meaningful.55 Further, in Byzantine art from the tenth century onwards, Christian images, especially portrait icons, almost always carried identifying inscriptions to ensure their sitter was known.56

In and of itself, the term “icon” is loaded with meaning: it is an image, a representation, a portrait, or a powerful symbol often equated to Christ.57 In terms of Byzantine art, some argue it simply means a “portrait.”58 Seen as an imprint of a holy being, an icon acts as a surrogate of one’s appearance and therefore only stimulates and simulates a miraculous essence. Just as a portrait captures the likeness of the sitter but not the sitter themselves or their “essence,” an icon of a saint or Christ remains replicable but not a blasphemous copy.59 In Byzantine art, the act of painting and the impact of brushstrokes on another material surface is an imprint and thus can hold the same spiritual weight as an icon. In other words, the image produced in paint—contrary to some understanding of it as an imitation of reality—is “not the imitation of form but rather the

[less problematic] imprint of form.”60 Further, Grimwood asserted that unlike the idol, the icon allows the gaze to pass through it.61 The viewer, in experiencing an icon, transcends its

55 For more information on the icon/portrait question, see Katherine Leigh Marsengill, Portraits and Icons: Between Reality and Spirituality in Byzantine Art (Turnhout, Belgium: Brepols, 2013).

56 Henry Maguire, “Other Icons: The Classical Nude in Byzantine Bone and Ivory Carvings,” The Journal of the Walters Art Museum 62 (2004): 14.

57 Bissera V. Pentcheva, “The Performative Icon,” The Art Bulletin, 88 no. 4 (Dec 2006): 631.

58 Katherine Marsengill, Portraits and Icons: Between Reality and Spirituality in Byzantine Art, 1. See also G. Dagron, Décrire et Peindre: Essai sur le portrait iconique (Paris: Gallimard, 2007).

59 Bissera V. Pentcheva, “The Performative Icon,” 634. Pentcheva quotes Patriarch Nikephoros who says “Painting represents the corporeal form of the one depicted, impressing its appearance (schema) and its shape (morphe) and its likeness (emopheria).” See Patriarch Nikephoros, Antirrheticus II, in Patrologia cursus completus: Se ries graeca (hereafter, PG), ed. J.P Migne, 161 vols (Paris: Migne, 1857-66), vol 100, col.357D.

60 Pentcheva, “The Performative Icon,” 638.

61 Steven Grimwood, “Iconography and Postmodernity,” Literature and Theology, 17 no. 1 (March 2003): 77.

29

immediate reality instead of being distracted by the materiality of the idol which is its own

“truth: one sees nothing but it.”62

The historical iconography of the square halo suggests that its meaning in Marietta is multivalent. The tradition can be traced back to ancient Egypt, but the symbol took greater shape in the art of the Italian Middle Ages. In this period, a square halo signified that the sitter— usually a high-ranking clerical figure or patron—was alive at the time of the work’s creation.63

Other scholars, such as John Osborne, have pointed to Italian exulted rolls where the square was used for not only unnamed ecclesiastics, but also for Moses, the personification of the church itself, or according to the Rationale Divinorum Officiorum of Durandus of Mende (c.1286), the four cardinal virtues.64 In contrast to the perfect circle of traditional halos, the square can also represent the imperfection and thus earthliness of its wearer. The circle itself was also said to represent heaven, while the square, earth. Osborne posited a shift in meaning around the 13th century, noting how people with the square halo were “one step lower than the saints and did not qualify for the more exalted circular diadem,” but nevertheless, were considered “worthy of honour.”65

62 Grimwood, “Iconography and Postmodernity,” 78. For more information on the idol/icon see Marie-Jose Mondzain, Image, Icon, Economy: The Byzantine Origins of the Contemporary Imaginary (Stanford, Calif: Stanford University Press, 2005).

63 For a general discussion and catalogue of the use of this motif see Gerhart B. Ladner, The so-called Square Nimbus’, Mediaeval Studies 3 (1941): 15-45 quoted in John Osborne, “The Portrait of Pope Leo IV in San Clemente, Rome: A Re-Examination of the So-Called 'Square' Nimbus, in Medieval Art,” Papers of the British School at Rome, 47 (1979): 58-65; Henri Leclercq, Dictionnaire d'Archeologie Chrétienne et de Liturgie xii, 1 (Paris 1935), cols. 1303-12; and Joseph Wilpert, Die ròmischen Mosaiken und Malereien der kirchlichen Bauten vom IV. bis zum XIII. Jahrhundert (Freiburg im Breisgau 1917), 107-12. Eva Tea and Carlo Bertelli question the use of the square to signify a living sitter. See Eva Tea, La Basilica di Santa Maria Antiqua (Milan 1937-45): 93; Carlo Bertelli, La Madonna di Santa Maria in Trastevere (Rome,1961): 121 n. 119.

64See Ladner, The so-called Square Nimbus’ 34-6; 38-9; 63.

65Ladner, 43 quoted in Osborne, “The Portrait of Pope Leo IV in San Clemente,” 63.

30

Numerous medieval examples of square halos found in eastern basilicas complicate the relationship between Christians and the “Orient.”66 The earliest example discovered by Koller-

Pinell’s time comes from Macedonia from the seventh century. The mosaics of Hagios

Demetrios shows St. Demetrius between an abbot and a deacon, metaphorically protecting the church and state in one image (fig. 14). The halos of the deacon and abbot of Sinai are not gold as expected, but rather gestured to via white wall and decorations behind them; this deception speaks to the corporeality of the bishop and eparch.67 A second case of the square halo is found in the north niche of San Zeno in Rome (c. 820, rebuilt 10th century AD), where there is a woman identified via inscription as Theodora Episcopa, the mother of Paschal I, crowned by a deep blue square halo (fig. 15).68 At San Clemente (opened 1084) in Rome, a mosaic of The

Ascension includes Pope Leo IV who is adorned with a square halo (fig. 16). Although these specific mosaics are dated from the Middle Ages, they were not discovered until 1862, making it more likely for modern artists to have knowledge of them through trips to Italy and imported objects and manuscripts. According to the initial understanding of this particular example,

Osborne claimed that the square halo signified a likeness to the sitter and acts as a framing device.69

66 Other examples include Pope Zacharias and the 'primicerius’ Theodotus in a mural from the chapel of saints Quiricus and Julitta in S. Maria Antiqua. Both Zacharias and Theodotus have the square 'nimbus.” See Osborne: 58- 59.

67 The use of alternative objects to reference halos is not uncommon. Take, for example, Robert Campin’s Virgin and Child before a firescreen, c.1430, which uses a semi-circle shape to createda halo over the Virgin’s head. See Sally Fischer, The Square Halo and Other Mysteries of Western Art: Images and the Stories that Inspired Them (New York: Harry N. Abrams, 1995), 92-95.

68 The inscription horizontally above the halo is EPISCOPA, and vertically on the left, THEODO(RA). The last two letters are missing, being within the area of restoration. See Gillian Mackie, “The Zeno Chapel: A Prayer for Salvation,” Papers of the British School at Rome, 57 (1989): 172-199.

69 Furthermore, the “portrait” of Theodora rested over the niche and her own tomb, suggesting that the work could also serve as a funerary portrait. Mackie, “The Zeno Chapel,” 185. See John Osborne, 'Anastasis', 269 and 282. Also, Charles McGlendon, “An Early Funerary Portrait from the Medieval Abbey at Farfa,” Gesta XXII/I, 1983. See 31

The halo operates in several ways for the sitter in Marietta and more broadly, for Koller-

Pinell: it raises the status of the female model while simultaneously questioning and criticizing the fascination with and formation of icons. It is likely that Koller-Pinell’s intended audience was aware of these implications, considering the cultural conglomerate that was Vienna and the pervasiveness of intellectual salons. Especilly because of Marietta’s creation for the

Kunstschau, which was set under the microscope of Emperor Franz Josef and essentially the whole of Europe, the reception of the gold square likely varied. Some viewers may have seen it as an homage to Gustav Klimt, and others may have noted its religious significance.

Marietta Entombed and Resurrected

Although Marietta lays claim to compositional and iconographical aspects of Byzantine art to shape meaning, the subject’s body language and encasement within gray and white quadrilateral forms allude to variants of Christ’s death and entombment imagery. In this, Koller-

Pinell reclaimed the depiction of Christ, which Judaism barred her and others from depicting.

However, instead of representing a fallen Christ, Marietta’s body language suggests many positive things: a resurrection, reawakening, reversal, or a rebirth. In Koller-Pinell’s case,

Christ’s promised resurrection translates to a rebirth of the female nude as truthful, pure, and powerful in her own right.70 Yet using traditional Christian themes of death and resurrection within Marietta serves an additional purpose: because it shows a woman in the process of resurrection, it symbolizes a feminist resurgence of the nude. As a formally-trained artist whose

Ladner, 3, esp. notes 136 and 137 quoted in Osborne, 64. Some other renditions of the square in the 9th century, however take this a step further and include edges to form the three-dimension illusion of a wooden panel.

70 See Kevin J. Mafigan and Jon D. Levenson, Resurrection: The Power of God for Christian Jews. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2009.

32

education brought her to Munich and Nuremberg shortly before painting Marietta, Koller-Pinell would have been familiar with artists of the Northern Renaissance, such as Dieric Bouts (1415-

1475), Geertgen tot Sint Jans (1465-1495), and Albrecht Dürer (1471-1528).71 However, the discomfort and artificiality in Marietta’s pose—particularly her rigid right arm—subverts these images of a dead Christ, whose mortality is shown in his emaciated form and limp arm, the so- called Meleager motif.72 By adopting this pose, Koller-Pinell commented upon faith, life and death, and reality as complicated and constructions controlled by men. By referencing these

Christian motifs in an image of a woman, Koller-Pinell also subtly continued to confront issues of gender in iconography discussed in the questions of truth in the first chapter.

Numerous examples of Christ’s entombment were well known to Austrian artists. One such case is Dieric Bout’s Entombment of c. 1450, which shows the semi-reclined, angular body of a dead Christ held up by Nicodemus at his torso, Mary at his wrist, Mary Magdalen by his knees, and Joseph of Arithmea at Christ’s feet (fig. 17). Christ’s arm dangles into the crypt almost perfectly straightened, his hand entirely hidden by the stone casket. Geertgen tot Sint

Jans’ Lamentation of Christ, c. 1485-90, presents another interesting model for the human form; it both aligns with and foils Marietta’s body (fig. 18). Geertgen presents Christ’s dead body on a wrinkled white cloth, his thin legs outstretched before him and his back arched unnaturally backward over a boulder. This odd juxtaposition echoes the eeriness and discomfort shown in

Marietta; just as he arcs backward, Marietta leans into a forward bent to bifurcate her body.

71 For more information on Koller-Pinell’s time in Munich and Nuremberg, see “Die Nurnberger Zeit (1898-1903)” in Sieglinge Baumgartner, “Broncia Koller-Pinell: Eine Malerin Zwischen Dillentantmus und Professional” (PhD Dissertation, University of Salzburg, 1989): 18-23.

72 Meleager was a Greek hero whose death was caused by the burning of the log of fate. His limp arm was taken up by Italian painters like Giotto and Michelangelo, who attributed the limpness of the arm to Christ’s potential for resurrection. See Alastair Smart, “Michelangelo: The Taddeo Taddei “Madonna” and the National Gallery “Entombment.” Journal of the Royal Society of Arts, 115 no. 5135 (October 1967): 835-862. 33

Albrecht Dürer’s c. 1511 woodcut of The Entombment also echoes the reclined body language in

Marietta as well as the rectangular forms that frame her like a tomb (fig. 19). Emphasis is also placed on the expanse of the shroud beneath Christ, mirroring the linens upon which Marietta sits.

Marietta also references other images of Christ’s death and the metaphor of sleep and resurrection from the Meleager motif. The languid right arm of Christ admits temporary defeat, as opposed to the vivacity of Marietta’s rigid right arm.73 According to John Shearman, the limp arm in Rosso Fiorentino’s Dead Christ from c. 1524-7 is one key images that mirrors sleep rather than death (fig. 20). This differs from Man of Sorrows imagery because his “perfect and instinct” form suggests a “reawakening to a second life” akin to Marietta’s alert form.74 Christ’s semi-flexed fingers and calm expression also allude to a peaceful slumber and not a loss of life.

Likewise, a crowd of angels wait in anticipation, not lamentation. Resurrection accounts like that of St. Ephraem Syrus (306-373 BC) describe the resurrection of Christ as an awakening, focusing on the animation of his limbs.75 Furthermore, in addition to the shroud, the overarching concept of a sleeping Christ is subtly cued in Marietta, where the surface she sits on appears bed- like.

French modernist artists also manipulated the Renaissance theme of the dead Christ, most notably Édouard Manet from the 1864 painting of The Dead Christ with Angels (fig. 21). Manet shows Christ in a seated position fully facing the viewer, his arms limp at his sides and his eyes and mouth partially agape. Here Christ’s halo is so minimized that his identification relies

73 John Shearman, “The “Dead Christ” by Rosso Fiorentino” Boston Museum Bulletin 64 no. 338 (1966): 156.

74 Shearman, “The “Dead Christ” by Rosso Fiorentino,” 151. It should also be noted that this work was discussed by Georgio Vasari, cited by a scholar first in 1880.

75 Shearman, 152.

34

heavily on his stigmata and rib wound, without which he could be any deceased man. Much of the canvas is filled with voluminous, starkly lit white linens. His eyes are nearly open, further suggesting his potential animation. This earthly iteration of Christ mirrors Koller-Pinell’s

Marietta; instead of presenting the viewer with a holy figure’s bitter mortality, she presented viewers with the moment of religious awakening of an earthly woman.76

Jewish contemporaries of Koller-Pinell also adapted the image of Christ as a means to reclaim Jewish identity, both religiously and ethnically. In most instances these artists were male, therefore the fact that Koller-Pinell made Marietta as a Christ-like figure reinforced its subversive nature. Prior to Koller-Pinell’s career, Russian sculptor Mark Antokolsky (1840-

1902) created Ecce Homo in 1873 (fig. 22). Antokolsky’s Jesus dons Orthodox Jewish side curls and a skullcap, calling to mind the hypocrisy in Christian persecution of Jews. This bronze was met with great backlash from the press, but when asked of his rationale, Antokolsky pointedly said, “Jesus was a Jew and died for truth and brotherhood.”77 Around the turn of the century, artists like Richard Gerstl (1883-1908) and later Egon Schiele (1890-1918) and Oskar

Kokoschka (1886-1980) navigated this religious tension in their own self-portraits. In these cases, the absence of a distinct or stereotypical “Jewish” identity, and the reclamation of

Christomorphic signifiers in such self-portraits, speaks to the tumult of modern Vienna.

76 Through a broader philosophical lens, we can also see Marietta as an icon of a modern yet virtuous woman, or better yet a new Eve. Put again into conversation with Manet’s infamous Olympia, the quintessential “fallen woman, Marietta emerges to suggest that modern woman is a hybrid of the “virgin-whore dichotomy,” so problematically touted in historical scripture and visual representation. More contemporary examples which examine the nude and a halo include Dante Gabriel Rosetti’s Venus Verticordia, 1864. Rosetti’s work plays with notions of sin and virtue through the inclusion of the forbidden fruit, a phallic arrow, and a golden halo.

77 Aaron Rosen, Imagining Jewish Art: Encounters with the Masters in Chagall, Guston, and Kitaj London, U.K: Legenda, 2009, 9.

35

Richard Gerstl’s Self-Portrait Against a Blue Background of 1905 subtly commented on the often-overlooked conflict of religious identity in Austrian art (fig. 23). Although both his parents were Jewish, they baptized him as a Roman Catholic. Blackshaw asserted how this life- altering decision aligns with how Gerstl’s shrouded self-portrait and glowing aura suggests a sort of baptism, sacrifice, and resurrection as Marietta does.78 She noted how Gerstl’s shrouded, half naked body and glowing outline echoes images of Christ such as Joachim Patinier's Baptism of

Christ of c. 1515. Blackshaw also called attention to the authority and agency presented via

Gerstl’s frontal, centered stance and eye contact, not unlike Albrecht Dürer’s famous Munich self-portrait of 1500. In appropriating Dürer, Gerstl’s intention could have been to “purify” the image of Jews via his quintessential Germanic identity. 79 Gerstl—and indirectly women like

Koller-Pinell —used this imagery to “propel [themselves] out of their Jewish heritage.” 80

Marietta works in the same ways that Gerstl’s self-portrait does. As an objectified woman painted by a Jew, she is sacrificed, and as a female nude and a religious figure reclaimed by a

Jew, she is resurrected.81

78 See Gemma Blackshaw, “The Jewish Christ: Problems of Self-Presentation and Socio-Cultural Assimilation in Richard Gerstl's Self-Portraiture,” Oxford Art Journal 29, no. 1 (2006): 31.

79 Blackshaw, “The Jewish Christ: Problems of Self-Presentation and Socio-Cultural Assimilation in Richard Gerstl's Self-Portraiture,” 44. She also discusses the notion of “ugliness” and “otherness” in the Jewish body, citing the late 19th century studies which paralleled Jews with other “inferior” peoples: non-Europeans, women, criminals, animals, and the mentally ill. She also cites the complexities of Jews and sex via Otto Weininger’s 1903 Sex & Character.“Judaism is saturated with femininity, with precisely those qualities the essence of which I have shown to be in the strongest opposition to the male nature. It would not be difficult to make a case for the view that the Jew is more saturated with femininity than the Aryan, to such an extent that the most manly Jew is more feminine than the least manly Aryan,” 306.

80 Steven Beller, Vienna and the Jews 1867-1938: A Cultural History (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1991): 146-7 quoted in Blackshaw, 18. In Germany, specifically, Jewish identity was also a matter of health. See John M. Efron, Medicine and the German Jews: A History. (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2001).

81 Blackshaw, 31.

36

Koller-Pinell and Christianity

An interpretation of Marietta as a religious icon is complicated by Koller-Pinell’s position as a Jewish woman married to a Catholic. We do not know whether Koller-Pinell was an openly practicing Jew during the turn of the century, but the fact that she did not convert to

Catholicism at the time of her marriage suggests that she was conflicted about her religious identity. The marriage of Hugo and Broncia Koller sparked tension in their immediate families, where interfaith marriages were not welcome.82 Hugo’s mother wrote an extensive letter to her son to express her extreme disappointment and concern over their union. Mrs. Koller wrote of

Hugo’s “honorless” betrayal and “blind-love” for marrying Pinell. Her concern also lied in the fate of her son’s future “innocent” children, who would grow up conflicted by having a Catholic father and “mosaic” mother.83 Although not directly documented, Pinell’s parents were likewise unhappy and concerned about their daughter’s future with a Catholic man. As fate would have it, the Koller children were raised Catholic and were subsequently protected through the

Holocaust. Koller-Pinell’s personal experience with religious intolerance, as well as her previous exploration of Christian themes in her art, help to contextualize Marietta as a religious icon.

Indeed, Koller-Pinell lived in what became the most catastrophic time and place to be

Jewish.84 Austria has been described as the epicenter of modern European anti-Semitism or

Judeophobia, but Vienna was one of the most vibrant climates for Jewish artists, composers, and

82 Brigitte Hamann, Hitler's Vienna: A Dictator's Apprenticeship (Oxford University Press: New York & Oxford, 1999): 329 quoted in Blackshaw, “The Jewish Christ: Problems of Self-Presentation and Socio-Cultural Assimilation in Richard Gerstl's Self-Portraiture,” 27.

83 The use of the term “mosaic” refers to Koller-Pinell’s mixed polish background.

84 For more information on the relationship between gold and Jews perpetuated in literature, see Evlyn Gould, “Cleansing Jewish Gold: Mallarme, Barrès, Lazare,” French Forum, 25 no. 3 (September 2000): 309-328.

37

theorists too.85 The influx of Jewish immigrants from 1860 to 1880 amplified this unease with otherness, where the population of Jews grew from 6,200 to 72,600, threatening both the existing population and job security, therefore fueling dormant xenophobic sentiments.86 Following the

1867 emancipation of the Jews, and exacerbated by the 1873 stock market crash, both Austrians and Germans retaliated with a new wave of anti-Semitism.87 With this, Jews became the scapegoats for economic hardship in the empire.88

Another pivotal event for this campaign against Jews was the mayoral election of 1897, which saw Karl Lueger, a devout Christian and vocally anti-Semitic politician in Vienna, take office for the fifth time.89 His long political reign, which ended only in 1910, fostered on a broader scale the prejudice towards members of the Jewish community in Vienna, many of whom supported the art scene through direct participation or patronage. For this reason, assimilation was the common fate of numerous Jews in Vienna, many of whom converted to

Christianity or at least ceased public celebration and worship.90 These complexities of Jewish

85 Wistrich also notes how Austria-Hungary was unique in its anti-Semitic programs because of the national makeup of the empire. He notes that “there was a Czech antisemitism directed against the Germans, a Slovak antisemitism which was anti-Magyar, a Ruthenian (Ukrainian) antisemitism that was anti-Polish, and a Polish antisemitism driven by anti-German and anti-Russian sentiment.” See Robert S. Wistrich, Laboratory for World Destruction: Germans and Jews in Central Europe (University of Nebraska, 2007): 325.

86 Wistrich, Laboratory for World Destruction: Germans and Jews in Central Europe, 328.

87 Germany had to be forced to emancipate their Jewish peoples and recognize them at citizens in 1871 following the act by the North German Federation in 1848. Wistrich, 325.

88 Wistrich, 325. See also John W. Boyer, Political Radicalism in Late Imperial Vienna. The Origins of the Christian Social Movement, 1848-1897 (Chicago: 1980) which provides a comprehensive analysis of the link between artisan distress and the rise of economic antisemitism in the Austria of the 1880s; Salo W. Baron, "The Impact of the Revolution of 1848 on Jewish Emancipation." Jewish Social Studies 11, no. 3 (1949): 195-248.

89 Wistrich, 339. Lueger has held position as mayor in the 1880s as well. In 1897, Hitler moved to Vienna and he often reflected on the influence of Lueger in his work. In 1907—the same year Marietta was painted—Lueger triumphed in office again.

90 Marsha Rozenblit, The Jews of Vienna, 1867-1914: Assimilation and Identity. Albany: SUNY NY, 1983. 6.

38

identity challenged women like Koller-Pinell. This was the case especially for Austrians, or expatriates who immigrated there, based on their geographic location between “West” and

“East” discussed earlier in this chapter. Rozenblit asserted that there was a “tri-partite identity” where politically people considered themselves Austrian, culturally German (Czech or Polish) and ethnically Jewish. Koller-Pinell, in this case, was Galician (Polish) as many other Jews were in this time.91

Earlier works by Koller-Pinell that speak to religious identity contextualize the subtle

Christian iconography in Marietta. When Koller-Pinell’s father Saul Pinell died in 1903, she painted Das Letzte Gericht (The Last Judgement) (fig. 24). This painted memorial draws compositional and iconographical parallels with Marietta and indicates Koller-Pinell’s familiarity and interest in portraying Christian subjects. Similar to Marietta, Das Letzte Gericht is limited in its color palette. Painted minimally in golds, blues and white, the painting operates much like Gerstl’s self-portrait, and it capitalizes on traditional colors to signify earth and heaven. The painting is also layered and geometric like Marietta, which invokes antiquated frescos or mosaics. A figure of God dominates the composition, pained in dark blues and set in profile closest to the viewer with an expression of judgment. Will Koller-Pinell’s father Saul be saved or damned? Is God a forgiving or a spiteful judge? Family members look on, as if they are contemplating the outcome: Koller-Pinell, her sister, and a bearded Saul Pinell in a pale robe in a dappled yellow column which forms an elongated halo or aura around his body. As in Marietta,

91 Rozenblit, Restructuring a National Identity: The Jews of Hapsburg Austria during WWI (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001), 4.

39

but on a deeply personal level, Koller-Pinell’s Last Judgement acts as a projection of both her own vision of faith as well as the larger issues taking place outside her door.92

Koller-Pinell’s adoption of styles and subjects from Byzantine or “Eastern” cultures associated her with the popular artistic styles of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries.

By echoing the exoticism and primitivism seen in her colleagues’ work, Marietta claimed an ability to creatively reinterpret historical genres to shape meaning. Koller-Pinell’s choices also aligned her with the more traditional canon of biblical imagery in nationalistic, Germanic

Europe, while simultaneously subverting her own complex religious identity in a time of persecution. By abstracting traditional iconography, Koller-Pinell created an icon that epitomized the modern European struggle between tradition and modernity, abstraction versus naturalism, and religion versus secularity.

92 Later in Koller-Pinell’s career, she returned to Christian themes, constructing works such as a woodblock of Eve, n.d, and a still-life with a hinterglasbilder of the Virgin from 1924. Hinterglasbilder are stained glass images that have a Germanic folk tradition. 40

CHAPTER 3

GENDER AND THE 1908 KUNSTCHAU

Therefore the woman painter is fundamentally dictated by imitation and emulation of men’s works, to naturalism, dilettantism, and formalism. Originality is always lacking. One very well finds a strong sense of color harmony, yet never that deep sense of color achieving poetic psychology with tone nuances. Woman’s talent is only sufficient for the echoable, decorative, and ornamental...

- Karl Scheffler, Die Frau und die Kunst, 190893

In a letter to her husband dated May 30th, 1908, just two days before the opening of the

Kunstschau, Broncia Koller-Pinell expressed excitement about her participation, but also trepidation—especially about how Marietta would fare there. She wrote, “Today only by a half accident we have learned that we are represented in the Kunstschau...Marietta should also be in it, but it is uncertain if she will hang…Maybe the format is not right…”94 Koller-Pinell’s use of the term “format” is perplexing, in part because of its various possible meanings. It could pertain to the painting: the size or dimensions of the work (which is nearly life-sized, at roughly 1.5 x 1 meters long); the horizontal composition; or, it could refer to the exhibition itself—the format of the room in which it hung, or the layout of the Kunstschau as a whole.95

93Quoted in Megan Brandow-Faller, “An Art of their Own: Reinventing Frauenkunst in the female academies and artist leagues of late-Imperial and First-Republic Austria, 1900-1930,” (PhD diss., Georgetown University, 2010), 118. Other scholars, however, defended women’s artistic prowess such as Joseph Wessely in Kunstubende Frauen (Leipzig: Bruno Lemme, 1884) and Anton Hirsch Die Frau in der bildenden Kunst: Ein kunstgeschichtliches Hausbuch [Vol. I], Die bildenden Kunstlerinnen der Neuzeit (Stuttgart: Ferdinand Enke, 1905).

94 „Am 30. Mai 1908 schrieb Broncia an ihren Mann: "Heute erst durch eine halben Zufall haben wir erfahren, daß wir in der Kunstschaugut vertreten sind. - 'Naschmarkt', 'Mutter', 'Schröder', drei Blumentöpfe und Holzschnitte sind sicher drin. Marietta soll auch drin sein, aber es ist unsicher ob sie nicht. Schröder Holzschnitte. ich so froh - ich kann es Dir nicht sagen. Das schönste Fest konnte mich als Kind nicht kindlicher freuen als dieser herrlichen Kunstschau mitmeinen Arbeiten drin zu sein. - mich heute freut- mich heute freut, - Frau Bernheimer hat neulich zufällig gesehen wie meine Marietta hineingeführt wurde. Montag früh werde ich hineingehen, um 3 Uhr ist offizielle Eröffnung durch den Minister...“ Translated excerpt of Koller’s letter to her husband Hugo, quoted in Sieglinde Baumgartner, “Broncia Koller-Pinell: Eine Malerin Zwischen Dillentantmus und Professional” (Ph.D Diss., University of Salzburg, 1989), 29-30.

95 By this I mean the concept of Raumkunst or “spatial art” which Klimt favored for exhibitions. Unfortunately, because the work did not hang, we are unsure what specific room it would have been hung within. It is possible it 41

As we now know, something was indeed “not right” about Marietta in the eyes of the

Kunstschau’s organizers: it was not included in the exhibition when it officially opened on June

1, 1908.96 But the painting was not markedly different from other works featured in the show. In size, it is no larger than Klimt’s The Kiss and Watersnakes II, which were both accepted and hung. Moreover, its pale, reductive aesthetic would have blended in seamlessly with the white walls and the mixed hanging style employed in most of the painting’s galleries (fig. 25).97 Even

Marietta’s skin echoed the “mother of pearl” quality found in Klimt’s renditions of flesh and gold leaf that were a trademark of his titular period. Marietta would not even have been the only nude contributed by a woman: Luksch-Makowsky’s Adolescentia, which had been included in the 1903 Secession exhibition, was featured there.

Why was Luksch-Makowsky’s ambitious, large-scale nude accepted by the artist’s male colleagues, while Koller-Pinell’s was not? It is difficult to know in retrospect, but it would seem that the exhibition organizers recognized that Marietta directly challenged the Secession’s ideals.

Luksch-Makowsky’s work seems like the exception to the rule, whereas Koller-Pinell’s treatment suggests how strongly women were discouraged from breaking the unspoken rules that categorized women's art differently than men's. It was acceptable to paint a nude child, who

would have been in room 13 with Koller-Pinell’s other works, near Klimt’s room, or the room for religious art, depending on how Koller-Pinell’s colleagues read the iconography. For more information on Raumkunst and how it helped women to participate in the Secession, see Julie Johnson, “Elena Luksch-Makowsky and the New Spatial Aesthetic” in Memory Factory: The Forgotten Women Artists of Vienna 1900 (West Lafayette, IL: Purdue University Press, 2012), 55-104.

96 The exhibition ran until November of 1908.

97 The Kiss (Liebespaar) is 180 x 180 cm and Watersnakes II (Waserschlangen) is 80 x 145 cm. Both hung in room 22 dedicated to Klimt at the 1908 Kunstschau. Other wellknown works included. Danaë (1907/08), Fritza Riedler (1906), Adele Bloch- Bauer I (1907), and The Three Ages of Woman (1905). See “Katalog der Kunstschau Wien 1908," (Vienna: 1908). http://digitale-bibliothek.belvedere.at/viewer/image/1528101301576/62/ .The rooms varied from single hung pieces to smaller works collage-style.

42

referenced the a re-birth of art, but it was not acceptable to challenge the male-dominated iconography.

In this chapter, I argue that Marietta was excluded from the Kunstschau because, unlike the other thirteen works by Koller-Pinell that were included in the exhibition, the painting challenged expectations for women artists—and the broader codes of gender propriety operating in Viennese society at this time. The treatment of Marietta makes clear that there were unspoken rules for women artists at this time. With very rare exceptions, they were expected to paint

“appropriate” subjects, including domestic scenes featuring mothers and children, or the more modest genre of still-life. The Klimt Group’s enforcement of these unspoken rules as it relates to

Marietta thus indicated the importance of maintaining traditional gender roles in an exhibition whose purpose was to glorify the Emperor and the Austrian nation.

The 1908 Kunstschau

The first exhibition of its kind in Vienna, the Kunstschau was designed to present a redefined, modern, and politically unified Austria-Hungary to Europe and the rest of the world.98

The political importance of the Kunstschau coincided with the year Bosnia-Herzegovina was annexed, Italian territory was lost, and the aging Franz Josef was trying to keep the Austro-

Hungarian empire afloat, both politically and culturally, in an effort that would end with his death in 1916.99 This event celebrated the sixty-year rule—the Diamond Jubilee—of Emperor

Franz Josef. In celebrating the nation’s leader, the aim was to present “again and again that the

98 In many ways, however, it also represented a paradox in the art world which began with the Secession, and their interest in non-commercial art. See Robert Jenson, Marketing Modernism in Fin-de-Siècle Europe (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1994), 186.

99 For more information on the reign of Franz Josef, see Steven Beller, Franz Josef. Eine Biographie. (Vienna: Döcker Verlag, 1997).

43

peoples of the monarchy and their dynasty [were] as one for ever and ever” and thus project the same message of unified power to the Kunstschau and Jubilee’s international viewers.100 Since the beginning of his rule, starting in 1848, Franz Josef had to mitigate the anti-monarchical sentiment spurred by the most recent French revolution. A Hungarian national attempted to assassinate the Emperor in 1853, and in 1867, Franz Josef was crowned Emperor of Hungary when the country agreed to split. On a personal note, Franz Josef’s wife, Empress Elisabeth

(Sisi) was assassinated in 1898 and his son Rudolf took his own life in 1889.101 By 1907, all men over twenty-four had access to vote, but looking back, Austria had lost major territories in Italy, and therefore its principal position among the German states.102 The Jubiläum was both in Franz

Josef’s honor to celebrate an impressively long reign and a means to communicate cultural strength to other countries, such as France, which had a long legacy of hosting art salons and world exhibitions.

We can understand how officials in Austria treated the “other” based on the other festivities celebrating Franz Josef.103 Among the events of the broader celebration was a grand three-hour parade, the Kaiser-Huldigungs-Festzug, that evidenced perceptions of ethnicity and

100 Translated by me: “Moge der Festzug von neuem ihm sagen, dass die Völker der Monarchie mit ihrem Herrscherhaus zusammengohoren fur immer und immerdar“ in Hans Bisanz, “Der Kaiserjubiläums- Huldigungsfestzug 1908” in Gustav Klimt und die Kunstschau 1908, ed. Agnes Husslein Arco and Alfred Weidinger. Vienna: Austrian Gallery Belvedere, October 1 2008- January 18, 2009. (Munich: Prestel, 2008), 38.

101 See Marcus, Austrian Reconstruction and the Collapse of Global Finance, 1921–1931 (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2018).

102 Austria lost Veneto, the region in Italy encompassing the Dolomite Mountains and Adriatic Sea. See Marcus, Austrian Reconstruction and the Collapse of Global Finance, 1921–1931, 20-21.

103 Previous scholars such as that provided by Werner Hofmann contest that the show “[had] no direct external connection between the exhibition and the pageant, but both contribute significantly to the outline of the official artistic and intellectual history of the monarchy,” quoted in Gustav Klimt und die Wiener Jahrhundertwende. Salzburg, 1970. S. 11 quoted in Husslein Arco and Weidinger, 33. Viewing this show in a vacuum neglects the importance of art as public policy in modern Europe.

44

race at this moment. Nineteen German-Austrian events were included in the historical section of the parade, celebrating 700 years of the Austria-Hungary empire.104 The parade honored mainly the centuries worth of successful Austrian battles, but also the other nationalities of the empire— and their folk costumes—which were described as “premodern, if not outright backward and primitive.”105 Furthermore, Czechs, Hungarians, and South Tyrol Italian members of the empire boycotted the festivities, making evident the reality of the dual monarchy.106 This attempted representation of Austria as peacefully multicultural embodied Franz Josef’s goal to unify his multicultural empire socially rather than politically.107

Although a committee of artists determined which works would be featured in the

Kunstschau, government sponsorship inevitably shaped which works were selected and presented; much like a World Exhibition in Paris, the celebrations were a reflection of national identity and prosperity. 108 The Klimt group and its participants united to design and decorate

104 Marcus, 17.

105 The procession ended with a mounted Count Josef Radetzky impersonating his legendary grandfather, the Marshall, who in 1848 had successfully put down the Italian revolts, and with the eponymous march accompanying a final contingent of troops. Nathan Marcus, 21-22. For more on imperial celebration see Daniel L. Unowsky, The Pomp and Politics of Patriotism: Imperial Celebrations in Habsburg Austria, 1848–1916 (West Lafayette, IN, 2005).

106 Marcus, 22.

107 This is not to say that Austria was completely disparate. Those like Steven Beller posit that the empire was economically strong due to booms in technology and industry like the telegraph and railway. Also, with serfdom abolished in 1848, farmers flocked to Vienna for employment. See Marcus, 23 and Steven Beller, Staging the Past: The Politics of Commemoration in Hapsburg Central Europe, 1848 to the Present, eds. Maria Bucher and Nancy M. Wingfield (West Lafayettee, IN: 2001).

108 The planning of festivities for the Kaiser Jubilee began in 1906. Emil Hoppe, Otto Schonthal and Josef Hoffmann designed the architecture for the pavilions which would house the various exhibitions. One exhibition was planned in the Prater park for May-October of 1908. For general information on the pavilion’s designs, see Markus Kristan, „Das Projekt fur eine Kaiser-Jubiläums-Austellung Wien 1908” in Husslein Arco and Weidinger, Gustav Klimt und die Kunstschau 1908, 21-22. Previous scholars such as Werner Hofmann contest that the show “[had] no direct external connection between the exhibition and the pageant, but both contribute significantly to the outline of the official artistic and intellectual history of the monarchy,” quoted in Gustav Klimt und die Wiener Jahrhundertwende, 33. Salzburg, 1970. S. 11 quoted in Husslein Arco and Weidinger. Viewing this show in a vacuum neglects the importance of art as public policy in modern Europe.

45

Kunstschau pavilion’s 6,500 m2, 54-room exhibition space. As a part of a larger constellation of pavilions and performances, the art show alone welcomed about 40,000 people. Although

Kunstschau was designed to merge notions of art and craft, or “high” and “low” art, the physical space was calculated and exclusionary.109 The rooms were defined in several ways: most often the spaces were divided thematically, but in some instances it was organized via various professors and pupils of painting, sculpture, and design or celebrated one artist in their own miniature retrospective. The numerous rooms differed in size and number of artists, which implied a hierarchy of style, gender, and medium.110 Some rooms and their contents were not clearly defined in the historical record: there was a room designated for “miscellaneous” crafts, a replica of a modern home, and a space filled wall to wall with of various advertisements and posters in a collaged fashion.

In the remarks Klimt delivered at the opening of the exhibition, he associated his group with an open-minded approach to art, saying,

We are not a cooperative, an association, or an alliance, but we have uniquely unified ourselves for the purpose of this exhibition, united only by the conviction that no area of human life is too insignificant and small to accommodate artistic ambitions. To speak in the words of Morris, even the most inconspicuous thing, when it is done perfectly, helps to multiply the beauty of this earth…Accordingly, this exhibition does not offer you the final results of the artistic curriculum vitae. Rather, it is the striving forces of Austrian art, a faithful report on the present state of [our] culture...111

109 See “Katalog der Kunstschau Wien 1908," (Vienna: 1908). Apparently Hevesi coined the name “Kunstschau” in Altunst Neukunst Wien 1909. S. 308. See Baumgartner, „Broncia Koller,“ 156. This terminology alone— Kunstschau— Sabrina Kahrim Rahman argues, implies a conglomerate, approachable atmosphere as opposed to the elevated and exacting Austellung, or exhibition, thus altering the viewing experience. Whereas exhibition alludes to careful organization or hierarchy, a show connotes entertainment and inclusivity of artists and viewers See Rahman, “Designing Empire: Austria and the Applied Arts, 1864-1918,” (PhD Diss., University of California, Berkeley, 2010), 40.

110 Rahman argues that the Wiener Werkstätte was the center of the exhibition, showing a merging of cultures and styles in the dwindling Austro-Hungarian empire. See Rahman, “Vienna 1908: Imperial Design and Franz Joseph’s Diamond Jubilee” in “Designing Empire: Austria and the Applied Arts, 1864-1918,” 34-65.

111 A portion of Gustav Klimt’s opening speech at the Kunstschau 1908, translated by me. See “Katalog der Kunstschau Wien 1908," 4-9. 46

Klimt’s reference to William Morris, the leader of the British Arts and Crafts movement, is telling; Morris stood for a leveling of distinctions between “fine art” and “craft” or “decorative art.” Yet, considering that Klimt himself only contributed figurative oil paintings to the exhibition, it would seem that the artist could not fully abandon traditions of “high” and “low” art. Klimt also referred to a lack of cohesion in the exhibition, both in terms of the participating artists and the types of artworks included. However, he explicitly positioned that variety as a reflection of the vital state of Austrian art—and thus, indirectly, as a testament to the Emperor.

Klimt’s projection of inclusion was false, however, given systemic gender bias and the inherent divisions and different expectations for men and women at the time. Klimt may have alluded to women’s participation in the event via craft, while also being firm on the lack of complete integration. Therefore, his “faithful” report on contemporary Austrian—and pan-

European—culture in reality relied on constructed social and political structures. Questions of access and privilege are likewise important: by 1908, privileged women had some access to institutions, but how “art” was defined for women was different than it was for men. The opportunity to create truthful accounts of modern Austrian art was therefore also dependent upon gender.

Koller-Pinell and the Kunstschau

While Marietta was excluded from the Kunstschau, numerous other works by Koller-

Pinell were displayed in the exhibition—a circumstance that speaks directly to the invisible limitations placed on women in regard to both subject matter and style. An examination of the paintings and prints that were featured in the show throw into relief Koller-Pinell’s concern with the “format” either of Marietta or the exhibition. In room thirteen—simply titled the room of

47

“painting”—Koller-Pinell was represented by a portrait of her mother, Meine Mutter (1907), her undated portrait of colleague Heinrich Shröder, a market scene of 1907, and an undated floral still life.112 While she was the only female artist whose work was shown in room thirteen, she was represented alongside her male studio partner (her husband Hugo Koller) and her works adhered to themes of stereotypical domesticity.113

Meine Mutter typifies the domestic subject matter and the decorative surface considered inherent to female artists (fig. 26).114 Koller-Pinell’s aged mother sits in profile, focused on the small banner of gossamer knitting before her. The delicate white fabric she holds echoes the canned armchair, just as her large taupe dress swallows her form, and camouflages her against the dark base of the chair and floor. Fused to the interior space, she is framed by a dappled yellow background and stylized foliage, which mimics the style of Klimt’s own landscapes like

Flower Garden, 1906 (fig. 27).115 Likewise, the portrait of Heinrich Shröder includes a lattice- sided piece of furniture and flowers. The palette is muted and minimal, save a bouquet of orange tulips (fig. 28). The sitter stares downward and reaches out to touch the open book before him, which rests atop a dark wood table with lattice sides. It is likely that Koller-Pinell painted

112 The floral still life (Blumentopfe) and market (Frühmarkt) are either missing or are private works and thus not digitized. It is possible that Frühmarkt signifies the Naschmarkt, a massive open-air food market and flea market which still resides in Vienna’s sixth district. Based on the information provided in the original “Katalog der Kunstschau Wien 1908," Koller-Pinell and her family lived on Magdalenenstraße, just on the edge of the Naschmarkt for some time. more personal Although it was a public center of commerce in Vienna, Koller-Pinell’s Naschmarkt may also be viewed as a feminine, and thus appropriate, space for a woman to move within.

113 In reality, Koller-Pinell and many women of this time had great public mobility, especially if there were middle to upper class. Koller-Pinell had an apartment in Vienna and home in Oberwaltersdorf where she frequently had guests.

114 In 1908 Adolf Loos would write Ornament and Crime, decrying the use of flowery, decorative works as interchangeably bad, and feminine.

115 Julie Johnson asserts that Meine Mutter takes its overarching formal language of Whistler’s Mother, 1871. See Johnson, Memory Factory, 123.

48

Shröder as a sort of practice portrait because he was most accessible to her. He is shown in contemplation instead of in the act of painting, perhaps to emphasize the current interest in the psyche and resurgence in the notion of the (male) artist-genius. Had Koller-Pinell shown

Shröder in the act of painting or in the studio, it would have implied intimacy and access to a male artist and his elite professional space. Koller-Pinell’s portrayal of Shröder also aligned with the common trend for women to paint their painting partners. Instead, both his portrait and

Meine Mutter used easily accessible sitters in the middle of decidedly gendered acts—knitting and contemplation—thus highlighting women’s limited mobility and access, as well as accepted belief in the male artist-genius.

In addition to these relatively small-scale paintings on domestic subjects, Koller-Pinell featured prominently in the 21st through the 23rd rooms of the Kunstschau dedicated to graphic art and woodblock prints. Around the turn of the twentieth century, the woodblock print embodied a patriotic, anti-metropolitan “return to nature” mindset synonymous with Germanic nationalism. The strength of wood, itself reference to the Black Forest, and the penetrative symbolism of carving and printing the image spoke to the Renaissance masters Albrecht Dürer,

Mathias Grünewald (1470-1528), and Lucas Cranach (1472-1553).116 Putting Germanic tradition into conversation with the gendered connotations, the woodblock also appeared more

“primitive” and “truthful” than some other mediums. In Austria, an interest in “primordial tasks” revived the woodblock, more specifically colored varieties.117 The Secession celebrated the

116 See Robin Reisenfeld “Cultural Nationalism, Brücke, and the German Woodcut: The Formation of a Collective Identity,” Art History 20, no. 2 (June 1997): 289-312. See also Max Hollein, Tobias G. Natter, and Klaus Albrecht Schröder eds. Art for All : Der Farbholzschnitt in Wien Um 1900 = the Colour Woodcut in Vienna Around 1900 = La Gravure Sur Bois En Couleur a Vienne Vers 1900 (Koln: Taschen, 2016).

117 Tobias G. Natter, “The Golden Age of Colour Woodcuts in Vienna around 1900: The Milestones and Diversity of Their Development,” in Art for All : Der Farbholzschnitt in Wien Um 1900 eds. Max Hollein, Tobias G. Natter, and Klaus Albrecht Schröder, 36.

49

woodcut in 1899/1900, 1902, and 1904 in part because of the publication of their periodical Ver

Sacrum, but also because of peaked interest in Japonisme and its ability to “combine truth to nature with an abstract language of forms.”118

In the rooms dedicated to print, Koller-Pinell’s works conformed to expectations for the woman artist in terms of both subject and style. Koller-Pinell’s black and white portrait of her mother for this room—cropped from the painting discussed earlier—shows only her face in a position similar to her 1907 painting (fig. 29). A second print by Koller-Pinell titled Mädchen mit Rotem Haar (Girl with Red Hair, also known as Esther Großmanm-Stromberg), 1907 also hung here (fig. 30). The work shows a coiffed-haired young woman in profile, staring downward at unidentifiable yellow forms. She mirrors the position in Meine Mutter, obstructing her full identity. Another print, Marktfrau mit Orangen (Market lady with oranges), n.d (fig.

31), shows a woman in profile, again swathed in black and carrying a sizeable bag of oranges that forms the only punctuation of color in the print. Koller-Pinell’s Weiße Rehe (White Does),

1907 was another colored print featured in rooms 21-23 (fig. 32). Here Koller-Pinell made use of finer lines and a more naturalistic palette; two stark white does—with exaggerated, giraffe- like necks—graze in a pasture edged with symmetrical cone-like trees and shrubs. It is not a coincidence that the subjects Koller -Pinell chose for these prints are all in all commonplace and mundane in comparison to Marietta.

Although images do not survive of Koller-Pinell’s other woodblock prints that were exhibited in the Kunstschau, their titles allow for an analysis of the relationship between subject, national identity and faith. Two such examples are prints of churches, Karlskirche and St.

Hubertus, which point to Koller-Pinell’s interest in architecture and religious subject matter.

118 Tobias G. Natter, “The Golden Age of Colour Woodcuts in Vienna around 1900,” 37. 50

Less is known about St. Hubertus, a Roman Catholic church from the thirteenth century, but

Karlskirche, or Charles Church, is a major landmark in Vienna, finished in 1739.119 It is known for its large dome, “historically disparate” architecture, and the two carved columns flanking it.

These two unique features may have attracted Koller-Pinell: the pillars could reference those of

Boaz and Jachim that stood in front of the Temple at Jerusalem, or even the Hagia Sophia.120

Another work titled Aus dem Wiener Wald (In the Vienna Woods) expresses Koller-Pinell’s interest in depicting distinctly Viennese places.

Women artists and the gendering of craft

The 1908 Kunstschau’s gender ideology manifested itself in the rooms dedicated to craft practices as well as those considered appropriate for children. Similar to the idea presented previously that Byzantine art was more truthful in its “primitivity,” the Kunstschau reinforced the notion that women were baser in their artistic talents and therefore their work achieved a sort of untaught honesty. This is again another form of positive discrimination: women were invited to participate in the decorated objects instead of crafting them from the ground up, and the objects used were domestic or utilitarian in nature and thus were distanced from the idea of “high art.” This marginal participation allowed women into Klimt’s circle, while keeping them in their place.

119 The church was built by order of Charles VI to honor Saint Charles Borromeo saving Vienna from a plague. See Frances D. Fergusson, “St. Charles' Church, Vienna: The Iconography of Its Architecture,” Journal of the Society of Architectural Historians, 29 no. 4 (Dec. 1970): 318.

120 See Dreger, "Wiener Karlskirche," p. 122, fn. 5; Sedlmayr, Fischer von Erlach, p. 1 quoted in Frances D. Fergusson, “St. Charles' Church, Vienna: The Iconography of Its Architecture,” 319.

51

The women who participated in the Kunstschau did so as a result of recently-developed opportunities in Viennese society. Women’s involvement within the various artistic institutions in Vienna was slow to progress, mainly because they followed the mindset of separate but equal opportunities. The Kunstgewerbeschule, or the School of Applied Arts, founded in 1867, was the first institution in Vienna to include women in the arts in 1868. Early in the history of the

Kunstgewerbeschule’s history, women were barred from life study courses and instead encouraged to study the “low” arts like decorative or floral porcelain designs. Eventually, the interest in craft and decorative arts benefitted women; in 1873, the Viennese World Exhibition featured a women’s pavilion of “handicrafts,” without the acknowledgement of the women involved as “artists.” Instead of paintings, the pavilion featured embroidery, needlepoint and textiles. Nearly twenty years later, one of the most important contributions to women’s art education was founded: the Kunstschule für Frauen und Mädchen, founded in 1897 by A. F.

Seligmann. The school allowed women to finally access to courses on life study, although separately from the male students. Although women like the prominent Jewish artist Tina Blau

(1845-1916) taught at the school, they did so in the areas of landscape and still-life, while men taught and facilitated the courses on portraiture, sculpture, perspective, and anatomy.

The Wiener Werkstätte, or Vienna Workshops, offered a way for women to participate in the arts through design and decoration. It was founded in 1903 by Josef Hoffmann and Koloman

Moser after they broke from the Secession and embraced the applied arts genre. The Werkstätte was an offshoot of the Secession dedicated to the applied arts—which welcomed numerous women. It drew inspiration from the Arts & Crafts movement in Great Britain and the designs of

William Morris and Charles Rennie Mackintosh (1868-1928). Much like William Morris and

Co,, the Werkstätte created furniture, textiles, silverware, glass, and ceramics in sleek designs.

52

The ability of these groups to bridge the mass-manufactured nature of interior design with personalized craft in some ways elevated the female artisans involved, but it also perpetuated the stigma that their work and thus their place was the decorative or auxiliary parts of society, even if they had public mobility.121

Women who trained in the various institutions in craft and design played a large role in the 1908 Kunstschau, but their achievements were filtered into perceived appropriate categories, styles, and subjects. Over 35% of the Kunstschau participants were women, but of those forty- seven women included in the show, twenty-four had their work placed in the rooms devoted to the “Art for the Child” (figs. 33 and 34).122 Only two male artists, Adolf Böhm (1861-1927) and

Anton Klinger (1881-1963), were featured in the children’s room; Böhm was likely present because he was the professor at the Kunstschule für Frauen and Mädchen, more specifically for the artists Fanny Zakucka-Harlfinger (1873-1954) and Minka Podhajska (1881-1963). Klinger’s small contribution to the room was a set of figures for a “punch-and-Judy” theater while the women took charge in decorating the rest of the room.123 Most of the objects in the eighty-piece space were crafts, embroidery and textiles, toys and puppets, furniture, and masks. The main source of inspiration for the majority of women artists were peasant toys of southern Tyrol and

121 By “public mobility” I mean, mainly, socio-economic status afforded the upper middle class and those whose husbands or fathers were involved in finance, law or medicine.

122 These women included: Magda Mauntner von Markhof, Marianna Adler, Olga Ambros, Helene Bernatzik, Maria Vera Brunner, Marianna Deutsch, Luise Horovitz, Ella Irányi, Mizi Friedmann, Johanna Kaserer, Frieda Löw, Marianne Perlmutter, Minka Podhajska, Maria Pranke, Margarete von Remiz, Selma Singer, Elsa Seuffert, Marianne Steinberger, Paula Westhausser, Marianne Wieser, Elisabeth von Wolter, Fanny Harlfinger-Zakucka, Marianne Zels, Eva Zetter.

123 See Dietrun Otten,”Die Klimt-Gruppe: Malerei auf der Kunstschau 1908,“ 158 in Husslein- Arco and Weidinger. Titles of the eighty works included in room 29 are also listed in the “Katalog der Kunstschau Wien 1908,” 65-72.

53

mountainous Austrian regions, thus elevating “primitive” craft via positive discrimination of women.124

Although Megan Brandow-Faller posits that the room illustrated the aphorism “an artist lies hidden in every child and a child lies hidden in every artist,” the ability for a woman to lay claim to “childlike” art was different from a man’s.125 Even if women were celebrated for their propensity for “delicate emotions,” viewing their work as less robust than men’s and their relegation to such a specific room within this grand exhibition is problematic.126 While many modern male artists capitalized both on an untrained stylistic appearance and “low” subject matter of “primitive” peoples, it was considered a conscious and strategic choice and not a biological predisposition.127 Deliberate naivety was an artistic trend—for lack of better word— which aimed to free the artist and viewer of the oppressive toxicity of modernity and metropolitan life. The limits at the 1908 Kunstschau parallels other women artists, such as Paula

Modersohn Becker (1876-1907). Modersohn-Becker made her career on painting Germanic peasants, nude—almost feral—children, and mothers. While these subjects helped to form her artistic identity during a time of German life reform, it also limited her in how and what she could paint. It was thought that these artists could learn from the child’s “primitive” eye, and it would seem that women were best suited to learn this particular lesson. We cannot ignore that at

124 Megan Brandow-Faller, ““An Artist in Every Child—A Child in Every Artist”: Artistic toys and Art for the Child at the Kunstschau 1908” West 86th: A Journal of Decorative Arts, Design History, and Material Culture 20, no. 2 (Fall-Winter 2013): 199.

125 Brandow-Faller, ““An Artist in Every Child—A Child in Every Artist,” 196.

126 Rebecca Houze, “From Wiener Kunst im Hause to the Wiener Werkstätte: Marketing Domesticity with Fashionable Interior Design,” Design Issues 18, no. 1 (2002): 6.

127 For more examples on the perceived parallel between women and children see Marilynn Strasser Olson, Children's culture and the avant-garde: Painting in Paris, 1890-1915 (New York: Routledge, 2013); Jonathan Fineberg, Discovering child art: Essays on childhood, primitivism, and Modernism (Princeton, N.J: Princeton University Press, 1998).

54

its core, primitivism implies a latent hierarchy in style, and thus talent, that centered around racial, ethnic, and gendered prejudice.

Other rooms also associated women with “decorative” or applied art, often under the rubric of collaboration, which effectively diminished opportunities for viewers to recognize women’s individual talent. Eight women were shown in the 10th room for “Poster art” and fifteen women were represented in room 26, the room for “Commercial Arts & Crafts.” 128 In the original catalog, the poster room is simply noted as a collection of “various advertisements” without assigning responsibility for any individual work.129 It is only through Agnes Husslein-

Arco’s exhibition catalog, celebrating the centennial of the Kunstschau, that some visual evidence for the artists of the works emerges. Curiously, the two posters by women included in

Husslein-Arco’s study feature stereotypical subject matter: Berta Kiesewetter’s (1887- c.1948)

Spielwaren (toys) and Valerie Petter’s (n.d), Frühlungsfest (spring festival), both from 1907/8, depict a colorful toy soldier atop a rocking horse and a young girl celebrating spring (figs. 35 and

36). This connection to children and nature juxtaposes the other posters in the room created by men; these used nude women to sell modern attractions like Cabaret Fledermaus or Rudium shampoo brand Idealste Haarpflege (figs. 37 and 38). Posters in and of themselves speak to commercialism and thus are often understood as “low” art. Both the limited number of works by women artists in this room, and the ways in which male artists represented women in works that

128 The poster room featured Helene Bernatzik, Marianne Deutsch, Hilde Exner, Berta Kiesewetter, Lilith Lang, Valerie Petter, Marie von Uchatius, Marianne von Wieser. Of those women, in Agnes Husslein-Arco, Exner, Deutsch, Bernatzik, von Uchatius and von Wieser are listed without attribution. See “Katalog der Kunstschau Wien 1908," 16-17, 52-58; and Husslein-Arco, 132-133. The miscellaneous arts and crafts room featured: Melitta Feldkircher, Helene Geiringer, Marie Händler, Grete L’Allemand, Marietta Peyfuss, Adele von Stark, Lotte Fochler, Jutta Sika, Agnes Speyer, Maga Mautner von Markhof, Rosa Rosenthal, Karola Nahowska, Lona von Zamboni, Minka Podhajska, and Hedwig Marie Weinstein. Considering the collective nature of some rooms, like the Small Countryhouse designed by Josef Hoffmann, women may have also designed or decorated other portions of the show but were not credited individually.

129 See “Katalog der Kunstschau Wien 1908, ” “Room 10,” 16-17 and “Room 26,” 51-58. 55

hung there, speaks to the invisible boundaries present in the Kunstschau. Furthermore, the

“Commercial Arts & Crafts” room included an eclectic series of works which were created again under the professorship of Josef Hoffmann and Koloman Moser. Women created embroideries/weavings, clothing, broaches, bronzes, fans and vanities for the room which, stylistically, were not geared toward younger audiences as the works in the room for children were.130 The most prominent role women played in this room revolved around textiles; Magda

Mautner von Marhof (1881-1944) featured a tapestry, and both she and Rosa Rothansal (n.d) included dresses in this room (figs. 39 and 40).

The Wiener Werkstatte’s involvement in the 1908 Kunstschau also bridged the gap between the fine and decorative arts corners of the art market, and therefore between perceived notions of gender in the visual arts. Although this crucial step in merging high and low art helped women to participate in the market, at times it also came at the cost of erasing their individual identities. Koloman Moser, Otto Prutscher (1880-1949), Josef Hoffmann, Bertold

Löffler (1874-1960) and Michael Powolny (1871-1954) dominated the room with their designs, regardless of whether they personally executed them. However, for critics, the Wiener

Werkstätte’s contribution to the 1908 Kunstschau was the most successful aspect of the exhibition. Its popularity complicates understanding that women’s work was seen as “less than” men’s, because the design workshop was widely considered and accepted as inherently

“feminine.”131 The Werkstätte appealed to critics and viewers not for this “feminine” nature, necessarily, but rather in terms of its commitment to Gesamtkunstwerk, or the total work of art.

130 For the titles or more comprehensive types of works included, see “Katalog der Kunstschau Wien 1908," 51-58.

131 Rebecca Houze, “From Wiener Kunst im Hause to Wiener Werkstätte, 4.

56

This concept intended to usher Austria into the modern world, where the barrier between art and life, as well as art and object, was dissolved.

The Wiener Werkstätte took over two rooms in the Kunstschau, allowing visitors to envision how Gesamtkunstwerk could enter their own lives, reinforcing the idea that art and craft could unite. In the 27th and 50th rooms of the Kunstschau, jewelry, china and home objects fused with the white and black built-in shelves (fig. 41). The vases and vessels tucked into paned glass display cases were attributed to the Wiener Werkstätte as a collective; although individuals designed these items, they did not create them on their own and thus were not signed by them.132 The Werkstätte’s domestic focus aligned with a rise in consumerist culture and thus national cultural identity, in addition to supporting the idea that well-crafted home design correlated the with the “moral character of its inhabitants” and to decorate one’s home was to

“dress” it like one’s body.133 In this sense, the Werkstätte also supported contemporary gender roles: women like Broncia Koller-Pinell made the majority of buyers of the workshop’s designs, and women were successful members of the workshop.134

All in all, women’s artistic output was limited for two major reasons: gendered educational opportunities and the Kunstschau’s separate but equal mindset on medium, genre and gender. As government funded entities, the conservative practices of the institutions

132 Each of the Wiener Werkstätte products were stamped with makers marks to give credit to the designer and the craftsman which “[manifested] two of the firm’s tenets: the equality of the artist and craftsman, and the unity of mind and hand.” In Regina Lee Blaszczyk, Producing Fashion: Commerce, Culture and Consumers. (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania, 2008), 113. For further discussion on the Wiener Werkstätte, see Heather Hess, “The Wiener Werkstätte and the Reform Impulse” in Regina Lee Blaszczyk. Hess notes that “the maker's marks stamped onto every Wiener Werkstätte object produced gave credit to both the designer and the craftsman, manifesting two of the firm's tenets: the equality of artist and craftsman, and the unity of mind and hand.” 113.

133 Heather Hess, “The Wiener Werkstätte and the Reform Impulse,” 114 in Blaszczyk. See also Houze,4.

134 For more information on the Wiener Werkstätte see Elisabeth Schmuttermeier, “Die Wiener Werkstatte auf der Kunstschau 1908,“ 434-441 in Agnes Husslein-Arco and Alfred Weidinger.

57

investigated here were likely shaped both by Austrian leadership and by the men responsible for the final layout, as well as by expectations indirectly placed on them by the public. While the

1908 Kunstschau did away with much of the rebellious spirit intended by the Viennese

Secessionists, welcoming even more women and non-traditional art forms into their ranks, it also subconsciously adhered to stricter gender norms. Although it tried to usher in a sort of progressive parity between art and craft, the sense of hierarchy was replaced through the division of male and female participants. Investigating Broncia Koller-Pinell’s participation in this show, and the removal of her nude Marietta discussed earlier in this thesis, helps to uncover the realities of invisible gender boundaries in modern Austrian art. By relegating women to the domestic, decorative, and collaborative spheres in the Kunstschau, making children’s toys, textiles, and posters, the organizers reasserted conventional gender norms while feigning inclusivity. The participation of women artists, it would seem, was not as simple as it appeared.

58

CONCLUSION

This thesis argued that Marietta is the visual manifesto of Koller-Pinell’s life and a reflection of her confrontation with truth, faith and gender identity in fin-de-siècle Vienna.

Following the 1908 Kunstschau, Koller-Pinell continued to show with the Klimt Group at the various Kunstschauen and Galerie Miethke. She often produced works concerning domestic subjects, oftentimes painting her daughter Silvia, Egon Schiele and his wife, and landscapes.

Although Marietta was not exhibited in 1908 as the artist had hoped, those within Koller-Pinell’s inner circle likely saw the painting. One artist in particular, the son of feminist Marie Lang

(1858-1934)—Erwin Lang (1886-1962)—loosely modeled his 1909 painting Nude (Grete

Wisenthal) on Marietta. Koller-Pinell painted other nudes in her career, mainly as impressionistic studies who faced away from the viewer, partially clothed and unadorned with gold. This appears to be a glimmer of what could have been for Koller had Marietta gained the wider attention it deserved in 1908.

Subsequently, a handful of exhibitions included Koller-Pinell’s later works, and on occasion Marietta. Koller-Pinell’s first retrospective did not take place until 1961. Her work was not shown again until 1974, at Vienna’s Galerie Ariadne, but it was not until the 1980s that

Koller-Pinell was “rediscovered” in an exhibition where she was also misinterpreted as a

“painting housewife” by Jan Tabor and others.135 In 2014, Marietta was exhibited as part of the

National Gallery in London’s “Facing the Modern: The Portrait in Vienna 1900.” The accompanying exhibition catalog glazes over Marietta, just as reviewer Andrew Lambirth noted,

“there are some horrors here (I wouldn't linger over Broncia Koller), but plenty of good things as

135 See Temma Balducci, and Heather Belnap Jenson. Women, Femininity and Public Space in European Visual Culture, 1789-1914 (Farnham, Surrey ;: Ashgate, 2014).

59

well.”136 In early 2019, the Lower Belvedere Museum hosted “City of Women: Female Artists in Vienna 1900-1938” curated by Dr. Sabine Fellner. There is still much work to be done, particularly with the precarity of exhibitions and text limited by gender. In each instance, we need to ask ourselves whose history and whose truth we are searching for, and whose we are receiving.

136 Andrew Lambirth. “Take Your Pick.” Spectator 323, no. 9666 (November 30, 2013).

60

ILLUSTRATIONS

Figure 1: Broncia Koller- Pinell, Marietta, 1907. Oil and gold leaf on canvas.

Figure 2: Gustav Klimt, Nuda Veritas, 1899, Oil on canvas.

Figure 3: Elena Luksch-Makowsky, Adolescentia, 1903. Oil on canvas.

Figure 4: Elena Luksch-Makowsky, Self-Portrait with Son Peter (Ver Sacrum), 1901. Oil on canvas.

Figure 5: 17th Secession installation view, designed by Koloman Moser. Elena Luksch- Makowsky’s Ver Sacrum to the right of the stairs (arrow).

Figure 6: Sandro Botticelli, (detail) Calumny of Apelles, 1494-5. Tempera on panel.

Figure 7: Cesare Ripa, Verita, 1603. Ink.

Figure 8: Édouard Debat-Ponsan, La Vérité sortant du puits (Truth Emerging from a well), 1898.

Figure 9: Gustave Courbet, The Painter’s Studio: A Real Allegory Summing Up Seven Years of My Artistic Life, 1855. Oil on canvas.

Figure 10: Édouard Manet, Olympia, 1863. Oil on canvas.

Figure 11: Gustav Klimt, Judith, 1901. Oil and leaf and canvas.

Figure 12: Gustav Klimt, Portrait of Adele Bloch-Bauer I, 1907. Oil and gold leaf on canvas.

Figure 13: Auguste-Dominique Ingres, Baronne de Rothschild, 1848. Oil on canvas.

Figure 14: Artist unknown, (detail) St. Demetrios between the bishop and eparch, Hagios Demetrios, Macedonia. c. 600 A.D. Mosaic.

Figure 15: Artist unknown, (detail) Theodora shown to the far left with a blue square halo, Saint Zeno Chapel, Rome, c. 820, rebuilt 10th century A.D. Mosaic.

Figure 16: Artist unknown, (detail) The Ascension, Pope Leo IV with square nimbus, San Clemente, Rome, completed 1123 A.D. Mosaic.

Figure 17: Dieric Bouts, Entombment, c. 1450. Distemper on flax.

Figure 18: Geertgen tot Sint Jans, Lamentation of Christ, c. 1485-1490. Oil on canvas.

Figure 19: Albrecht Dürer, The Entombment, 1511. Woodcut.

Figure 20: Rosso Fiorentino, Dead Christ, c. 1524-7. Oil on canvas.

Figure 21: Édouard Manet, The Dead Christ with Angels, 1864. Oil on canvas.

61

Figure 22: Mark Antokolsky, Ecce Homo, c. 1873. Bronze.

Figure 23: Richard Gerstl, Self-Portrait Against a Blue Background, c. 1905. Oil on canvas.

Figure 24: Broncia Koller-Pinell, Das Letze Gericht (The Last Judgement), 1903. Oil on linen.

Figure 25: Klimt’s room at the 1908 Kunstschau. At far right: Watersnakes II, 1907. Oil on canvas.; center: The Three Ages of Women, 1905. Oil on canvas.; left center Maria Stonborough Wittgenstein, 1905. Oil on canvas. Printed in Deutsche Kunst und Dekoration, 1909. in “Austellung: Kunstschau Wien 1908,” Kunst und Handwerk: Zeitschrift für Kunstgewerbe und Kunsthandwerk seit 1851-1859 (Bayerischer Kunstgewerbe-Verein. Universitats-Bibliothek Heidelberg. http://digi.ub.uni-heidelberg.de/diglit/kuh1908_1909/0154 145.

Figure 26: Broncia Koller-Pinell, Meine Mutter, 1907. Oil on linen.

Figure 27: Gustav Klimt, Flower Garden, 1906. Oil on canvas.

Figure 28: Broncia Koller-Pinell, Heinrich Shröder, 1907. Oil on canvas. Reprinted in Agnes Husslein-Arco and Alfred Weidinger, Gustav Klimt und die Kunstschau 1908, 164.

Figure 29: Broncia Koller-Pinell, Meine Mutter, c. 1907. Woodblock print.

Figure 30: Broncia Koller-Pinell, Mädchen mit Rotem Haar (Girl with Red Hair, Esther Großmanm-Stromberg), n.d. Colored woodblock print.

Figure 31: Broncia Koller-Pinell, Marktfrau mit Orangen (marketlady with oranges), n.d. Colored woodblock print.

Figure 32: Broncia Koller-Pinell, Weiße Rehe (White Does), 1907. Colored woodblock print.

Figure 33: Art for the Child, Room 29 of the 1908 Kunstschau. Reproduced in Hohe Warte. J.g. IV Leipzig and Vienna: 1908, S. 220. Reprinted in Husslein-Arco and Weidinger, 375.

Figure 34: Fanny Harlfinger, Children’s nursery suite and decorative panneau (sign) “Madonna,” displayed in Art for the Child, Room 29 of the 1908 Kunstschau. Reprinted in The Studio Yearbook of Decorative Art (London: The Studio, 1909), 8.

Figure 35: Berta Kiesewetter, Spielwaren, 1907/8. Reproduction from Die Fläche. Reprinted in Husslein-Arco and Weidinger, 145

Figure 36: Valerie Peter, Frühlungsfest, 1907/8. Reproduction from Die Fläche II. Reprinted in Husslein-Arco and Weidinger, 155.

Figure 37: Franz Delavilla, Cabaret Fledermaus, 1907/8. Reproduction from Die Fläche II, reprinted in Husslein-Arco and Weidinger, 138.

Figure 38: Berthold Löffler, Rudium. Idealste Haarpflege, 1901. Reprinted in Husslein-Arco and Weidinger, 148.

62

Figure 39: Magda Mautner von Markhof, Untitled. Tapestry. Reprinted in Husslein-Arco and Weidinger, 346.

Figure 40: Various fashions by Magda Mautner von Markhof and Rosa Rothansl (top left). Reprinted in Husslein-Arco and Weidinger, 347.

Figure 41: Unknown. Kunstschau 1908, Room 50: Wiener Werkstätte. 1908. Black and white photograph in “Austellung: Kunstschau Wien 1908,” Kunst und Handwerk: Zeitschrift für Kunstgewerbe und Kunsthandwerk seit 1851-1859 (Bayerischer Kunstgewerbe-Verein, Universitats-Bibliothek Heidelberg. http://digi.ub.uni-heidelberg.de/diglit/kuh1908_1909/0154 149.

63

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Alsdorf, Bridget. Fellow Men: Fantin-Latour and the Problem of the Group in Nineteenth- Century French Painting. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2013.

Amt der Niederösterreichischen Landesregierung, Abt. III/2 - Kulturabteilung (Hrsg.): Die Malerin Broncia Koller. 1863 - 1934, Wien 1980 (Ausst. Kat. Niederösterreichisches Landesmuseum, Wien, 09.05.1980-27.07.1980).

Balducci, Temma, and Heather Belnap Jensen. Women, Femininity and Public Space in European Visual Culture, 1789-1914. Farnham, Surrey;: Ashgate, 2014.

Baumgartner, Sieglinde. “Broncia Koller-Pinell: Eine Malerin Zwischen Dillentantmus und Professional” PhD diss., University of Salzburg, 1989.

Bejan, Petru. "Can we Represent the Truth?" Hermeneia: Journal of Hermeneutics, Art Theory & Criticism no. 14 (2014): 5-9.

Beller, Steven. Vienna and the Jews 1867-1938: A Cultural History.Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1991.

---. Franz Josef. Eine Biographie. Vienna: Döcker Verlag, 1997.

Bertelli, Carlo. La Madonna di Santa Maria in Trastevere. Rome,1961.

Blackshaw, Gemma. “The Jewish Christ: Problems of Self-Representation and Socio-Cultural Assimilation in Richard Gerstl’s Self-Portraiture.” Oxford Art Journal 29, no. 1 (2006): 27-51.

Blaszczyk, Regina Lee. Producing Fashion: Commerce, Culture and Consumers. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania, 2008.

Bostrom, Leslie and Marlene Malik, “Re-Viewing the Nude,” Art Journal 58, No. 1 (Spring, 1999): 42-48.

Brandow-Faller, Megan. “An Art of Their Own: Reinventing Frauenkunsst in the Female Academies and Artist Leagues of Late-Imperials and First Republic Austria, 1900-1930.” (Ph.D Diss., Georgetown University, 2010)

---. “An artist in every child—A child in every artist”: Artistic toys and art for the child at the Kunstschau 1908.” West 86th: A Journal of Decorative Arts, Design History, and Material Culture 20, no. 2 (2013): 195-225.

Bucher, Maria and Nancy M. Wingfield. Staging the Past: The Politics of Commemoration in Hapsburg Central Europe, 1848 to the Present. West Lafayettee, IN: 2001.

Bullen, J. B. Byzantium Rediscovered. London; New York: Phaidon, 2003. 64

Cameron, Averil. Byzantine Matters. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2014.

Clark, Kenneth. The Nude; a Study in Ideal Form. Princeton, N.J: Princeton University Press, 1972.

Clark, T.J. The Painting of Modern Life: Paris in the Art of Manet and his followers. Princeton: Princeton University, 1984. 2nd Edition.

Colomina, Beatriz. “Sex, Lies and Decoration: Adolf Loos and Gustav Klimt” Thresholds 37 (2010): 70-81.

Dagron, G. Décrire et Peindre: Essai sur le portrait iconique. Paris: Gallimard, 2007.

Fergusson, Frances D. “St. Charles' Church, Vienna: The Iconography of Its Architecture,” Journal of the Society of Architectural Historians, 29 no. 4 (Dec. 1970): 318-326.

Fineberg, Jonathan. Discovering child art: Essays on childhood, primitivism, and Modernism Princeton, N.J: Princeton University Press, 1998.

Fisher, Sally. The Square Halo and Other Mysteries of Western Art: Images and the Stories that Inspired Them. New York: Harry N. Abrams, 1995.

Grimwood, Steven. “Iconography and Postmodernity,” Literature and Theology, 17 no. 1 (March 2003): 76-97.

Gronberg, Tag. Vienna: City of Modernity, 1890-1914. Bern: Peter Lang, 2007.

Grigby, Darcy Grimaldo. “Still Thinking about Olympia’s Maid,” The Art Bulletin, 97 no. 4 (Dec 2015): 430-451.

Hegel, G.W.F. Philosophy of History III. Leipzig; Berlin, 1890.

Holme, Charles, editor. Art Revival in Austria. London; Paris: The Offices of ‘The Studio,’ 1906

Houze, Rebecca. "From Wiener Kunst Im Hause to the Wiener Werkstätte: Marketing Domesticity with Fashionable Interior Design." Design Issues 18, no. 1 (2002): 3-23.

Husslein-Arco, Agnes and Alfred Weidinger, editors. Gustav Klimt und die Kunstschau 1908, Austrian Gallery Belvedere, October 1 2008- January 18, 2009. Munich: Prestel, 2008.

Jenson, Robert. Marketing Modernism in Fin-de-Siècle Europe. Princeton: Princeton University, 1994.

Johnson, Julie. “The Art of the Woman: Women’s Art Exhibitions in Fin-de-Siecle Vienna,” (PhD diss., University of Chicago, 1998) 65

---. The Memory Factory: The Forgotten Women Artists of Vienna 1900. West Lafayette, IL: Purdue University Press, 2012.

Jüdisches Museum, Wien. „Broncia Koller Pinell,” Wien: Jüdisches Museum, 1993. 19.05.1993-17.10.1993. Exhibition Catalog.

Keller, Catherine. “Nuda Veritas: Iconoclash and Incarnation.” In Intercarnations. Fordham University Press, 2005.

“Katalog der Kunstschau Wien 1908," (Vienna: 1908). http://digitale- bibliothek.belvedere.at/viewer/!thumbs/1528101301576/1/

Krzysztofowicz-Kozakowska, Stefania and Piotr Mizia. ““Sztuka,” “Wiener Secession”, “Manes’. The Central European Art Triangle.” Artibus et Historiae, 27, no. 53 (2006): 217-259.

Ladner, Gerhart B. The so-called Square Nimbus’, Mediaeval Studies 3 (1941): 15-45.

Land, Norman E. “The Fiction of Bellini’s Truth,” Notes in the History of Art, 18, no. 3 (Spring 1999): 11-18.

Leclercq, Henri. Dictionnaire d'Archeologie Chrétienne et de Liturgie xii. Paris, 1935.

Lloyd, Jill. Birth of the Modern: Style and Identity in Vienna 1900 Munich, Germany: Hirmer Verlag, 2011.

---. “Feminists and Femme Fatales: Representing Women in Turn-of-the-Century Vienna,” in Birth of the Modern: Style and Identity in Vienna 1900 Munich, Germany: Hirmer Verlag, 2011.

Mackie, Gillian. “The Zeno Chapel: A Prayer for Salvation,” Papers of the British School at Rome 57 (1989):172-199.

Mafigan Kevin J. and Jon D. Levenson, Resurrection: The Power of God for Christian Jews. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2009.

Maguire, Henry. “Other Icons: The Classical Nude in Byzantine Bone and Ivory Carvings,” The Journal of the Walters Art Museum 62 (2004): 9-20.

---. The Icons of Their Bodies: Saints and Their Images in Byzantium Princeton, N.J: Princeton University Press, 1996.

Manner, Boris. Broncia Koller-Pinell 1863–1934. Brandstätter, Vienna 2006.

66

Marcus, Nathan. Austrian Reconstruction and the Collapse of Global Finance, 1921- 1931 Cambridge, Massachusetts: Harvard University Press, 2018.

Marquand, Allan. “Strzygowski and His Theory of Early Christian Art” The Harvard Theological Review 3 no. 3 (July 1910): 357-365.

Marsengill, Portraits and Icons: Between Reality and Spirituality in Byzantine Art. Turnhout, Belgium: Brepols, 2013.

McGlendon, Charles. “An Early Funerary Portrait from the Medieval Abbey at Farfa.” Gesta XXII/I (1983): 13-26.

Mitchell, Claudine. “Intellectuality and Sexuality: Camille Claudel, the Fin-de-Siècle Sculptress,” Art History 12, no. 4 (December 1989): 419-447.

Mondzain, Marie-Jose. Image, Icon, Economy: The Byzantine Origins of the Contemporary Imaginary Stanford, Calif: Stanford University Press, 2005.

Natter, Tobias G. Broncia Koller Pinell. Eine Malerin im Glanz der Wiener Jahrhundertwende. Exhibition catalog. Jüdisches Museum, Vienna (1993).

---. Klimt and the Women of Vienna’s Golden Age. Munich: Prestel, 2016.

---.“The Golden Age of Colour Woodcuts in Vienna around 1900: The Milestones and Diversity of Their Development,” in Art for All : Der Farbholzschnitt in Wien Um 1900 = the Colour Woodcut in Vienna Around 1900 = La Gravure Sur Bois En Couleur a Vienne Vers 1900 edited by Max Hollein, Tobias G. Natter , and Klaus Albrecht Schröder. Köln: Taschen, 2016.

Nochlin, Linda. “Why Have There Been No Great Women Artists?” in Women, Art and Power and Other Essays. Cambridge; Philidelphia, San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1988.

Ockman, Carol. “2-LARGE-EYEBROWS-A-L-ORIENTALE, ETHNIC STEREOTYPING IN INGRES ‘BARONNE DE ROTHSCHILD.’” Art History 14, no. 4 (December 1991): 521–539.

Osborne, John. “The Portrait of Pope Leo IV in San Clemente, Rome: A Re-Examination of the “So-Called ‘Square' Nimbus,” in Medieval Art.” Papers of the British School at Rome 47 (1979): 58-65.

Pentcheva, Bissera V. “The Performative Icon,” The Art Bulletin, 88 no. 4 (Dec 2006): 631-655.

Pollock, Griselda. “Countering memory loss through misrepresentation: what does she think feminist art history is?” Journal of Art Historiography, no. 8 (2013): 1-15.

67

Rahman, Sabrina Kahrim. “Designing Empire: Austria and the Applied Arts, 1864-1918,” PhD Diss., University of California, Berkeley, 2010.

Reisenfeld, Robin. “Cultural Nationalism, Brücke, and the German Woodcut: The Formation of a Collective Identity,” Art History 20, no. 2 (June 1997): 289-312.

Rose, Alison. Jewish women in fin de siècle Vienna. 1st ed. Austin: University of Texas Press, 2008.

Rosen, Aaron. Imagining Jewish Art: Encounters with the Masters in Chagall, Guston, and Kitaj. London, U.K: Legenda, 2009.

Rozenblit, Marsha L. Restructuring a National Identity: The Jews of Hapsburg Austria during WWI. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001.

---. The Jews of Vienna, 1867-1914: Assimilation and Identity. Albany: SUNY Albany, 1983.

Schiebinger, Londa. “Feminine Icons: The Face of Early Modern Science,” Critical Inquiry, 14 no. 4 (Summer, 1988): 661-691.

Schorske, Carl E. Fin-De-Siècle Vienna: Politics and Culture. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1956.

Schwartz, Agatha. Gender and Modernity in Central Europe: The Austro-Hungarian Monarchy and its Legacy. Ottawa: University of Ottawa, 2010.

Shearman, John “The “Dead Christ” by Rosso Fiorentino” Boston Museum Bulletin 64 no. 338 (1966): 148-172.

Smart, Alastair. “Michelangelo: The Taddeo Taddei “Madonna” and the National Gallery “Entombment.”” Journal of the Royal Society of Arts, 115 no. 5135 (October 1967): 835- 862.

Smith, Kimberley A. "The Tactics of Fashion: Jewish Women in Fin-de-Siècle Vienna." Aurora: The Journal of the History of Art 1, no. 4 (November 2003): 135-54.

Strasser Olson, Marilyn. Children's culture and the avant-garde: Painting in Paris, 1890-1915. New York: Routledge, 2013.

Tea, Eva. La Basilica di Santa Maria Antiqua. Milan, 1937-45.

“The Precursors of the Viennese Secession in Munich and Berlin” in Charles, Victoria, and Carl, Klaus. The Viennese Secession. New York: Parkstone International. 2012.

Topp, Leslie. Architecture and Truth in Fin-de-Siècle Vienna. Cambridge: Cambridge University, 2004.

68

Vergo, Peter. Art in Vienna 1898-1918: Klimt, Kokoschka, Schiele and Their Contemporaries. London: Phaidon Press Limited, 2015.

Warner, Marina. Monuments & Maidens: The Allegory of the Female Form. 1st American ed. (New York: Atheneum), 1985.

Wilpert, Joseph. Die ròmischen Mosaiken und Malereien der kirchlichen Bauten vom IV. bis zum XIII. Jahrhundert. Freiburg im Breisgau 1917.

Wistrich, Robert S. Laboratory for World Destruction: Germans and Jews in Central Europe. University of Nebraska, 2007.

69