LIFE and CHIMERA: FRAMING MODERNISM in POLAND By

Home , Adam Asnyk, Adam Mickiewicz, Aleksander Gierymski, Andromeda (Rodin), Antoni Lange, Artur Grottger

LIFE AND CHIMERA: FRAMING MODERNISM IN POLAND

JUSTYNA DROZDEK

Submitted in partial fulfillment of the requirements

for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy

Dissertation Advisor: Dr. Anne Helmreich

Department of Art History

CASE WESTERN RESERVE UNIVERSITY

August, 2008

CASE WESTERN RESERVE UNIVERSITY

SCHOOL OF GRADUATE STUDIES

We hereby approve the thesis/dissertation of

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candidate for the ______degree *.

(signed)______(chair of the committee)

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*We also certify that written approval has been obtained for any proprietary material contained therein.

To mama and tata

Table of Contents

List of Figures 2

Acknowledgements 7

Abstract 9

Introduction 11

Chapter 1: Poland: A Historical and Artistic Context 38

Chapter 2: Life’s Editorial Directions: Crafting a Modernist Journal 74

Chapter 3: Life’s Visual Program: From Tropes to “Personalities” 124

Chapter 4: Chimera and Zenon Przesmycki’s Polemical Essays: Artistic Ideals 165

Chapter 5: Chimera’s Visual Program: Evocation and the Imagination 210

Conclusion 246

Appendix A: Tables of Contents for Life (1897-1900) 251

Appendix B: Tables of Contents for Chimera (1901-1907) 308

Figures 341

Selected Bibliography 389

List of Figures

Figure 1. Jan Matejko. Skarga’s Sermon [Kazanie Skargi]. 1864. Oil on canvas. 224 x 397 cm. Royal Castle, Warsaw.

Figure 2. Karel Hlaváček. Cover for Moderní revue. 1897.

Figure 3. Wojciech Weiss. Youth (Młodość). 1899. Reproduced in Life 4, no. 1 (1900): 2.

Figure 4. Gustav Vigeland. Hell. 1897. Bronze. National Galley, Oslo. Two fragments of the relief were reproduced in Life 3, 7 (1899).

Figure 5. Wojciech Weiss. Obsession [Opętanie]. 1900. Oil on canvas. 100 x 85 cm. Adam Mickiewicz Museum of Literature.

Figure 6. Page from Life 2, no. 15 (1898): 173.

Figure 7. Page from Life 2, 25 (1898): 304.

Figure 8. Henryk Rauchinger. Title vignette for Life 1, no. 1 (1897): 1.

Figure 9. Title page of Life 2, no. 26 (1898).

Figure 10. Stanisław Wyspiański. Study. Reproduced in Life 2, no. 31 (1898): 397.

Figure 11. Stanisław Wyspiański. Title vignette for Life 1, no. 2 (1897): 1.

Figure 12. Stanisław Wyspiański. Caritas. Reproduced in Life 2, 23 (1898): 273.

Figure 13. Stanisław Wyspiański. Maternity [Macierzyństwo]. 1905. Pastel. 91 x 58.8 cm. National Museum, Krakow.

Figure 14. Ephraim Moses Lilien. Vignette. As reproduced in Life 1, no. 9 (1897): 6.

Figure 15. Bolesław Nitecki. Title vignette for Life 1, no. 14 (1897): 1.

Figure 16. Teodor Axentowicz. Title vignette for Life 1, no. 10 (1897): 1.

Figure 17. Teodor Axentowicz. Girl with a Vase [Dziewczyna z wazonem]. 1903. Algraphy, black crayon, paper. 45.5 x 30 cm.

Figure 18. Teofil Terlecki. Title vignette for Life 2, no. 22 (1897).

Figure 19. Teodor Axentowicz. Cover vignette for Life. 1898.

Figure 20. Teodor Axentowicz. Poster design for the 2nd exhibition of the Society of Polish Artists “Sztuka.” 1898. Color lithograph, paper. 93 x 62 cm. National Museum, Krakow.

Figure 21. Stanisław Wyspiański. View of the Kościuszko Mound from Studio Window [Widok z okna pracowni na Kopiec Kościuszki]. 1904. Pastel. 46.5 x 60.5 cm. Private collection.

Figure 22. Antoni Stanisław Procajłowicz. Title vignette for Life 2, no. 2 (1898): 1.

Figure 23. Jan Stanisławski. Winter [Zima]. As reproduced in Life 1, no. 11 (1897).

Figure 24. Jan Stanisławski. Crosses in the Wilderness [Krzyże na pustkowiu]. As reproduced in Life 1, no. 6 (1897): 3.

Figure 25. Stanisław Janowski. Vignette. As reproduced in Life 2, no.31 (1898): 410.

Figure 26. Józef Mehoffer. Sketch for The Youth of Art [Młodość sztuki]. 1897. Watercolor on paper. 55 x 35 cm. Private collection.

Figure 27. Józef Mehoffer. Drawing from The Youth of Art.

Figure 28. Leon Wyczółkowski. The Visitation [Odwiedziny]. Reproduced in b&w in Life 1, 14 (1898): 7.

Figure 29. Jacek Malczewski. A Slave’s Inspiration [Natchnienie niewolnika]. C. 1898. As reproduced in Life 2, 26 (1898): 321.

Figure 30. Ephraim Moses Lilien. Poetry and Painting [Poezya i malarstwo]. Title vignette for Life 1, 3 (1897): 1.

Figure 31. Stanisław Wyspiański. Cycle of The Four Elements [Cztery Żywioły]. Sketches for the polychrome designs for the Franciscan Church, Krakow. 1895-1897. Crayon drawings. All 71.5 x 14.5 cm except Earth (77.8 x 14.5 cm). Location unknown.

Figure 32. Karel Hlaváček. Title vignette for Life 1, no. 11 (1897): 1.

Figure 33. Ephraim Moses Lilien. Title vignette for Life 1, no. 12 (1897): 1.

Figure 34. Title page. Life 2, no. 40/41 (1898).

Figure 35. Title page. Life 2, no. 43 (1898).

Figure 36. Stanisław Wyspiański. Sesame’s Treasures [Skarby Sezamu]. 1897. Pastel on paper. 202 x 240 cm. National Museum, Kielce. Reproduced in b&w in Life 2, no. 47 (1898): 629.

Figure 37. Edvard Munch. Harpy. 1894. Drypoint print. Munch museet, Oslo. Reproduced as The Phantom (Upiór) in Life 3, no. 40/41 (1899): 524.

Figure 38. Wojciech Weiss. The Dance (Taniec). 1899. Oil on canvas. 65 x 99 cm. Private collection. Reproduced in Life 4, no. 1 (1900): np.

Figure 39. Karel Hlaváček. Vignette. Reproduced in Life 2, no. 20 (1898): 232.

Figure 40. Karel Hlaváček. Vignettes. Reproduced in Life 2, 40/41 (1898): 533.

Figure 41. Karel Hlaváček. My Christ (Self-portrait). Reproduced as Self (Jaźń) in Life 2, no. 42 (1898): 552.

Figure 42. Jan Stanisławski. Poplars [Topole]. 1901. 5-color lithograph. Insert to Chimera 3, 7/8 (1901).

Figure 43. Józef Mehoffer. Cover for Chimera 7, no. 19 (1904).

Figure 44. Edward Okuń. Cover vignette for Chimera 1, no. 3 (1901).

Figure 45. Alfons Mucha. Cover design for Ver Sacrum (November 1898).

Figure 46. Edward Okuń. Cover design for Chimera 6, no. 17 (1902).

Figure 47. Gustave Moreau. Salome. 1876. Drawing. Reproduced in Chimera 10, no. 28-29 (1907): 189.

Figure 48. Felicien Rops. La Grande Lyre. Insert to Chimera 3, no. 7/8 (1901).

Figure 49. Tymon Niesiołowski. Queen of the Spiders [Pająków królewna]. Reproduced in Chimera 9, no. 27 (1905): 469.

Figure 50. Józef Mehoffer. Vignette for Sons of the Earth [Synowie ziemi] by Stanisław Przybyszewski. Chimera 1, no. 3 (1901): 401.

Figure 51. Konrad Krzyżanowski. Cover for Chimera 3, no. 9 (1901).

Figure 52. Edward Okuń. Cover vignette for Chimera 1, no. 1 (1901).

Figure 53. Edward Okuń. Cover for Chimera 10, no. 28/30 (1907).

Figure 54. Edward Okuń. Cover vignette for Chimera 7, no. 20/21 (1904).

Figure 55. Edward Okuń. Portrait [Portret]. 1902. Zincotype. Reproduced in Chimera 10, no. 28/29 (1907): 237.

Figure 56. Fernand Khnopff. Dreaming Woman – Nevermore. C. 1900. Reproduced as title page for “Select Works of Georges Rodenbach” in Chimera 4, no. 10/12 (1901): 187.

Figure 57. Fernand Khnopff. Frontispiece for Bruges-la-morte by George Rodenbach. 1892. Reproduced as a vignette in Chimera 4, no. 10/12 (1901): 215.

Figure 58. Józef Mehoffer. Cover vignette for Chimera 1, no. 2 (1901).

Figure 59. Stanisław Dębicki. Cover for Chimera 3, no. 7/8 (1901).

Figure 60. Gustave Moreau. The Chimera. 1867. Oil on panel. 33.02 x 27.31 cm. Harvard University Art Museums, Fogg Art Museum. Heliogravure by R. Paulussen. Insert to Chimera 1, no.1 (1901).

Figure 61. Maryan Wawrzeniecki. Cover for Chimera 2, no. 6 (1901).

Figure 62. Ignacy Pieńkowski. Annunciation. Half-tone etching. Insert to Chimera 10, no. 28/30 (1907).

Figure 63. Józef Mehoffer. Cover for 6, no. 18 (1902).

Figure 64. Edward Burne-Jones. King Cophetua and the Beggar Maid. Heliogravure by R. Paulussen. Insert to Chimera 6, no. 16 (1902).

Figure 65. Edward Okuń. Initial “P.” Reproduced in Julius Zeyer’s “King Cophetua.” Chimera 6, no. 16 (1902): 3.

Figure 66. Edward Okuń. Vignette. Reproduced in Julius Zeyer’s “King Cophetua.” Chimera 6, no. 16 (1902): 4.

Figure 67. Edward Okuń. Vignettes for “Judas” by Jan Kasprowicz. Chimera 4, no. 10/12 (1901): 144.

Figure 68. Edward Okuń. Vignette for “Judas” by Jan Kasprowicz. Chimera 4, no. 10/12 (1901): 162.

Figure 69. Edward Okuń. Vignette for “Judas” by Jan Kasprowicz. Chimera 4, no. 10/12 (1901): 163.

Figure 70. Józef Mehoffer. Vignette for “Sons of the Earth” by Stanisław Przybyszewski. Chimera 2, 4/5 (1901): 268.

Figure 71. Konrad Krzyżanowski’s tracing of a detail from Hiroshige’s “Juman tsubo plain at Suzaki, Fukagawa” from One hundred views of famous places of Edo. 1857. Reproduced in “Japanese Woodblocks” by Zenon Przesmycki. Chimera 1, no. 3 (1901): 507

Figure 72. Stanisław Dębicki. Initial “B” for "Japanese Woodblocks” by Zenon Przesmycki. Chimera 1, no. 2 (1901): 313.

Figure 73. Edward Okuń. Title page for the Upanishads (Kena, Isha and Great Aranya), translated by Wacław Berent. Chimera 10, no. 28/30 (1907): 263.

Figure 74. Aubrey Beardsley. The Return of Tannhäuser to Venusberg (illustration for The Return of Venus and Tannhäuser). Lithograph. Insert to Chimera 3, no. 9 (1901). Printed reversed.

Figure 75. Józef Mehoffer. Advertisement for Kirsch et Fleckner. 1900.

Figure 76. Józef Mehoffer. Cover vignette for Chimera 5, no. 13 (1902).

Figure 77. Józef Mehoffer. Drawing from polychrome designs for Wawel treasury. Reproduced in Chimera 4, no. 10/12 (1901): 428.

Figure 78. Józef Mehoffer. Cover for Chimera 5, no.14 (1902).

Figure 79. Franciszek Siedlecki. Ex-libris (Dr. Józef Drzewiecki). Etching. Reproduced in Chimera 9, no. 25 (1905): 140.

Acknowledgements

First and foremost, I am immensely grateful to my advisor, Anne Helmreich. Her

unwavering support and enthusiasm for my project sustained me even during the most

difficult periods of the writing process. Her close reading and detailed feedback during

every revision were testaments to her genuine investment in me as a scholar. I feel truly

blessed to have had her as my advisor and mentor.

I am indebted to the other members of my committee – Ellen Landau, Lisa Bernd,

Miriam Levin, and Anna Brzyski – for their astute feedback, advice, and encouragement.

I must single out Anna Brzyski for additional gratitude because she agreed to serve on

my committee as a fifth reader, though she was much more than that. My dissertation

would simply not have been possible without her scholarship, which paved the way for

my own, and her critical insights upon reading several drafts of my text.

I was fortunate to receive feedback and advice from several estimable scholars in the field of Polish art history: Anna Budzałek at the National Museum in Krakow,

Andrzej Szczerski at Jagiellonian University, Piotr Kopszak at the National Museum in

Warsaw, Irena Kossowska at the Institute of Art of the Polish Academy of Sciences, and

Jan Cavanaugh, whose English-language book on Polish modern art first peaked my interest in the topic.

I utilized and am grateful for the services of numerous institutions: Jagiellonian

University Library, Biblioteka Polskiej Akademii Nauk (PAN) in Krakow, the Main and

Special Collections at the Biblioteka Narodowa in Warsaw, the Warsaw University

Library, Library of Congress, Lamont and Widener Library at Harvard University, the

Slavic and Baltic Division at the New York Public Library, Frick Fine Arts and Hillman

Library of the University of Pittsburgh, Gumberg Library at Duquesne University, Kelvin

Smith Library at Case Western Reserve University, and Ingalls Library at the Cleveland

Museum of Art. My research in and travel to many of these institutions would not have

been possible without the financial assistance I received through the Baker-Nord Center

for the Humanities Dissertation Completion Fellowship, Eva L. Pancoast Memorial

Fellowship, and Walter Read Hovey Memorial Fund of the Pittsburgh Foundation.

In fear of forgetting someone, I dare not attempt to list all of the friends and acquaintances who have offered support and advice during my dissertation process and graduate career. I hope they know how much I value them. I cannot neglect to

acknowledge Debby Tenenbaum, who is the backbone of Case’s art history department,

or Jake Ciofalo, who encouraged me to enter the doctoral program. Furthermore, I thank

the entire faculty of Case Western’s Department of Art History. I simply would not have

been able to attend graduate school without the renewed fellowships I received, and I

greatly appreciate their faith in my abilities.

I cannot imagine completing this dissertation or achieving the bulk of my goals

without the reassurance, humor, and unconditional love that my parents provided. My

mother, Bogna Drozdek, never doubted that I would finish, and she maintained a resolute

confidence even when my own had left me. My father, Adam Drozdek, not only offered

guidance and encouragement but also closely aided me in the long and difficult process

of translation. Without his patience and assistance, I would have taken twice as long to

finish. Despite his immeasurable help, however, any errors in translation are entirely my own. Finally, I deeply thank my sister Kailla Edger for her consistent optimism and my

husband Dan Morgan for his love and infinite patience.

Life and Chimera: Framing Modernism in Poland

Abstract

JUSTYNA DROZDEK

Little magazines, literary and/or artistic periodicals that were self-consciously

branded as avant-garde, proliferated in late-nineteenth-century Europe and were crucial

in circulating concepts of modernism. This dissertation focuses on two little magazines,

Krakow’s Life (1897-1900) and Warsaw’s Chimera (1901-1907), and their editors’ promotion of Polish artists as integral participants of an international artworld.

Both periodicals were published during a period in which Poland, having been

partitioned among Russia, Prussia, and Austria in the late eighteenth century, did not

exist. These partitions fueled a nationalist discourse in which art functioned as a tool for patriotic expression. However, the members of the artistic and literary movement of

Young Poland challenged the notion of an instructive art. They strove instead to redefine national art by arguing that patriotism should be internalized rather than didactically

conveyed and, furthermore, insisted that Polish art had to become modern to thrive internationally. Life and Chimera reinforced these goals through a deliberate visual and

rhetorical program that underscored the supremacy of modernism.

This dissertation examines the chief polemical essays and visual programs of both

journals to demonstrate their editors’ efforts to frame modernism in Poland and legitimize

Polish art within the international artworld. Ludwik Szczepański and Artur Górski, Life’s

first two editors, maintained that art could be both modern and national and configured

9 the journal’s visual program around various national, and simultaneously universalist, tropes. Life’s last editor, Stanisław Przybyszewski, however, argued that national identity did not belong in conversations about art since only pure, subjective expression should occupy artists. He structured Life around various artistic and literary “personalities,” whose inclusion in the journal reflected his elevation of artistic identity. Like

Przybyszewski, Chimera’s Zenon Przesmycki insisted that artists express their “inner states” but also argued for the artistic conveyance of metaphysical “truths” and beauty, which pointed not to some agreeable appearance but signified an attuned aesthetic sensibility. Both Przesmycki’s polemical essays and visual program emphasized these ideas while epitomizing the artist as a priest-seer, a distinctly modernist program. This dissertation emphasizes that modernism’s international character cannot be fully grasped without considering Polish art and periodicals within the modernist discourse.

Introduction

In the last two decades of the nineteenth century, the presence of “little

magazines” as counterpoints to mainstream contemporary journalism rapidly escalated.

Virulently anti-commercial in rhetoric (despite often featuring advertisements) and self-

consciously branded as intellectually and artistically avant-garde (that is, transgressing

conventional practice), little magazines were generally characterized by their limited

circulation, brief and irregular duration, precisely targeted audience, and focus on the

visual and/or literary arts. According to literary scholar Murray Pittock, “[the little

magazine’s] aesthetic unity symbolized its aesthetic integrity, its commitment to art over

bourgeois society.”1

Little magazines emerged in England and France in the 1880s, and, by the 1890s,

flourished throughout Europe and the United States, easily numbering into the hundreds.

Many of these periodicals rarely continued publication past the first or second issue, but numerous had long (from several years to several decades) and influential spans of publication. In the latter category, one could include the Austrian Ver Sacrum (1898-

1903); the French La Revue Blanche (1891-1903), La Plume (1889-1913), and Mercure de France (1890-1965);2 the Berlin Pan (1895-1900); the British The Yellow Book (1894-

1897); and scores of others. These little magazines, like their peers, paid equal attention to text and typography, the quality of paper and illustrations, and art and literature. Little

1 Murray G.H. Pittock, Spectrum of Decadence: The Literature of the 1890s (London and New York: Routledge, 1993), 163-4.

2 In this dissertation, I refer to the literary-artistic journal Mercure de France founded in 1890, not to be confused with the French periodical of the same name that ceased publication in 1825.

magazines were particularly essential to the development of modernism because they

frequently included polemical essays or manifestoes that outlined the aims and articulated

the supremacy of modernism. This was especially true of journals aligned with the

aesthetic and theoretical approaches of the Symbolist movement, which largely

influenced the editors of the two journals analyzed in my study.

This dissertation focuses on two little magazines, Krakow’s Life (1897-1900) and

Warsaw’s Chimera (1901-1907). Specifically, I examine the editors’ promotion of

Polish artists as integral participants of an international artworld. Life and Chimera were

published during a period when Poland, which had been partitioned by Russia, Prussia,

and Austria at the end of the eighteenth century, did not exist. These partitions fueled the

ascendancy of a nationalist discourse that contributed to art’s role as a tool for

demonstrating patriotism, a responsibility determinedly stressed by the Polish positivists

of the 1860s and 1870s. However, the members of the artistic and literary movement

Young Poland (Młoda Polska) challenged the notion that art had to serve an instructive

role.3 Instead, they strove to redefine national art by arguing that patriotism should be

internalized rather than didactically conveyed while also shunning naturalism, a term I

use to denote the objective representation of a subject.4 Furthermore, as argued by art

historian Anna Brzyski, the movement’s members appropriated modern styles in order to

create a space for themselves within the international art stage and in hopes of achieving

3 Throughout this dissertation, I refer to the English translation for oft-repeated Polish words and phrases (e.g. Młoda Polska = Young Poland; Życie = Life; Warszawa = Warsaw; Kraków = Krakow – English translations also utilize “Cracow”).

4 I distinguish “naturalism” (with a lowercase “n”) from the nineteenth-century style of “Naturalism” (with an uppercase “N”).

“historical significance.”5 Life and Chimera, I contend, factored largely into this attempt

and were instrumental to the dissemination of modernism within Poland.

Both journals – Chimera from the beginning and Life after the writer Stanisław

Przybyszewski assumed editorial control – also broke with the tradition of the illustrated

periodical, such as Warsaw’s Illustrated Weekly (Tygodnik Illustrowany, 1859-1939), that incorporated art and literature alongside social and political news and commentary.

Instead, Przybyszewski and Zenon Przesmycki, Chimera’s founder and sole editor, created journals dedicated solely to art and literature, thus inscribing their publications within the tradition of the European artistic-literary little magazines. Life and Chimera also shared with these journals a highly polemical editorial rhetoric that articulated a particular artistic and literary worldview, the substance of which is the focus of the following chapters.

This dissertation, therefore, contributes to the emergent field of “periodical studies,” an interdisciplinary field that considers the significance of journals, magazines, and newspapers as vehicles for social, political, and/or cultural discourse.6 Thus far,

literary scholars have eclipsed art historians in their contributions to this field,

undoubtedly because textual content (including poetry, literature, and essays) tended to

dominate little magazines. Among these contributions is the Modernist Journals Project

(MJP), launched in 1995 by Brown University. The MJP includes a digital archive of

modernist journals, scholarly essays, and an artist database. According to the MJP

5 Anna Brzyski, “The Problem of Modernism: Art Practice under the Gaze of Art History,” Modernism and Central and East European Art & Culture, Osaka University, the 21st Century COE Program Research Activities 2004-2006, vol. 7 (January 2007): 356.

6 For the state of the field, see Sean Latham and Robert Scholes, “The Rise of Periodical Studies,” PMLA 121.2 (March 2005): 517-531.

website, the project “is intended to become a major resource for the study of the rise of

modernism in the English-speaking world, with periodical literature at the center of this

study.”7 The artist database notwithstanding, the MJP focuses, thus far, largely on the textual content of various journals, and the current advisory board comprises primarily literary scholars.

In addition to the MJP, numerous recent studies consider the import of periodicals upon social and cultural discourses. Literary scholar Mark Morrisson investigates how

British and American modernist journals employed commercial mass-market strategies.8

In an ambitious attempt to interrogate the interdisciplinary nature of Symbolist periodicals (particularly of French origin), literary scholar Pamela Genova considers the interconnection of the visual arts, music, and literary and polemical content in Symbolist literary reviews.9 Pioneering literary scholar Laurel Brake examines the interconnection

of book and periodical publishing.10 Numerous other studies explore the political, ethnic, and/or gendered frameworks within specific periodicals.11

7 “About the Modernist Journals Project (MJP),” www.modjourn.org.

8 Mark Morrisson, The Public Face of Modernism: Little Magazines, Audiences, and Reception 1905-1920 (Madison, University of Wisconsin Press, 2001).

9 Pamela A. Genova, Symbolist Journals: A Culture of Correspondance (Burlington, VT: Ashgate, 2002).

10 Laurel Brake, Print in Transition, 1850-1910: Studies in Media and Book History (New York: Palgrave, 2001).

11 See Laurel Brake and Julie F. Codell, eds. Encounters in the Victorian Press: Editors, Authors, Readers (New York: Palgrave, 2005); Laurel Brake, Bill Bell, and David Finkelstein, eds., Nineteenth-Century Media and the Construction of Identities (New York: Palgrave, 2000); and Press, Politics and the Public Sphere in Europe and North America, 1760-1820 (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2002). See also Brake, Print in Transition. The online scholarly journal 19: Interdisciplinary Studies in the Long Nineteenth Century dedicated an issue to “Literature and the Press: 1800/1900” in 2006. See www.19.bbk.ac.uk/issue3/index.htm. The above list only comprises a selection of the burgeoning literature.

Art historians have also delved into the arena of periodical studies, though in smaller numbers, and my dissertation is one of only a handful of art historical examinations.12 Most notably, and closest to my own aims, Angelika Pagel’s doctoral

dissertation European Art and Literary Reviews of the fin-de-siècle examines the editorial

and design tactics of Jugend, The Studio, Pan, La Revue Blanche, and Ver Sacrum.13

As is evident, the focus of the English-language scholarship within periodical

studies remains largely upon British, French, American, and also German examples. Yet

this is an incomplete picture. To truly understand modernism in Europe, scholars must

examine the involvement of all participants, including Polish, within its discourse. My

study contributes to the discipline of both art history and periodical studies by

interrogating specific artists, tropes, and theoretical claims highlighted in Life and

Chimera. In the following chapters, I demonstrate how the editors articulated the goals of a new, modernist art, which claimed to transcend national boundaries, a noteworthy achievement in an atmosphere colored by nationalistic sentiment.

Terminology

“Modernism” and “Symbolism”

In the following pages, several terms repeatedly emerge that warrant

investigation. The most significant are “modernism,” “Symbolism,” and “decadence.”

Situating Life and Chimera within the discourse of “modernism,” a complex and

12 I do not include in this select historiography the monographic treatment of individual journals. However, a significant English-language and foreign literature, including exhibition catalogues and monographs on such journals as La Revue Blanche, The Yellow Book, Simplicissimus, and Ver Sacrum, among others, exists.

13 Angelika Pagel, “European Art and Literary Reviews of the fin-de-siècle: A Comparative Study in the Social History of Art,” PhD dissertation, University of California, Berkeley, 1987.

multivalent term, proves difficult since the editors of the journals did not characterize

themselves as such.14 In a brief essay in Chimera, Przesmycki railed against critics’

attempts to uncover a new “modern” master, arguing that the “modern” label was

spurious since real art was eternal: “It is in vain to assure [these critics] there is no

‘modernism,’ that art is eternally one and the same.”15 Yet, while he denied the existence

of the stylistic category of “modernism,” Przesmycki nevertheless subscribed to

modernism’s discursive strategies by openly rejecting didacticism and external (material)

experience. Furthermore, as this dissertation shows, he promoted a distinctly modern

style: Symbolism.

In his essay about Guillame Apollinaire, a French art critic of Polish ethnicity,

historian Walter Adamson offers a definition of modernism analogous to the theoretical

approaches to art expressed in Life and Chimera. Following Theodor Adorno, Adamson

maintains that modernism

is the effort to overcome the commodification of culture through the conviction that art has a fundamental role to play in restoring, or reinventing, the qualitative dimension of existence. . . . For art to help restore the qualitative dimension . . . modernists believe that it [art] must come to understand itself in its own terms, to pursue its own autonomous cognitive existence independent of its earlier religious, moral, and cultic functions.16

14 “Modernism” is further complicated as it is also a critical category, associated especially with the art criticism of Clement Greenberg. My use of “modernism,” however, refers to a discourse particular to the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. For a discussion of the various art historical definitions of modernism, see Charles Harrison, “Modernism” in Critical Terms for Art History, eds. Robert S. Nelson and Richard Shiff (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1996), 142-155.

15 “Próżno zaręczać im, że żadnego ‘modernizmu’ nie ma, że sztuka jest wiecznie jedna i ta sama.” Tredecim, “Glossy: Arcydzieło przyszłości,” Chimera 2, no. 6 (1901): 502. In all subsequent footnote citations, Chimera and Life art indicated simply by the letter “C” and “Z”, respectively, followed by the volume and issue number, year, and page number(s).

16 Walter L. Adamson, “Apollinaire's Politics: Modernism, Nationalism, and the Public Sphere in Avant- garde Paris,” Modernism/Modernity 6, no. 3 (1999): 35.

As we shall see, Przybyszewski and Przesmycki repeatedly emphasized the necessity of

art to transcend moralistic and instructive functions. Furthermore, in their polemical essays, they argued that art was an essential element of life.

Adamson also contends that modernism’s “true end is the suspension of ‘identity thinking’ by pursuing art’s own immanent logic independent of all externally generated values, whether cognitive (like ‘representing’ the world) or social (like ‘entertainment’).

It means searching for what is art and nothing else.”17 Similarly, for Przybyszewski and

Przesmycki, art could serve only itself, and I utilize the term “art for art’s sake” to

express this idea. The editors also frequently employed religious terminology for art and

literature in order to insist that art, as a sacred activity, should never be a mere pastime or diversion. In this dissertation, therefore, “modernism” refers to both the movement and critical practice that, among other things, maintained art’s independence from external values and elevated artistic identity.

For both editors, the modernist, pan-European movement of Symbolism reflected both the sacredness and transcendental values of “true” art. Art historian Wiesław

Juszczak’s discussion of Symbolism is particularly valuable for my own study because of its applicability to Przesmycki’s and Przybyszewski’s conceptions of art as a rejection of mimesis and edification in favor of internal and psychic probing.18

According to Juszczak:

17 Adamson indicates, however, that “the problem . . . is that modernism is never able to realize this autonomy, for to do so would be tantamount to locating the essential nature of art.” Adamson, 35.

18 Wiesław Juszczak, Malarstwo Polskie: Modernizm (Warszawa: Auriga, 1977). Juszczak reprises the basic arguments of the above study in two English-language essays. See Juszczak, “Modernism— Symbolism—Expressionism” in Symbolism in Poland: Collected Essays (Detroit: Detroit Institute of Arts, 1984) and “The Twilight of Modernism,” Canadian-American Slavic Studies 21, no. 1-2 (Spring-Summer 1987): 7-34.

[Symbolism] represented the artistic equivalent to an ontological precept which held that everything has both a material and a non-material dimension. In investigating the world, the Symbolists believed that the senses had to be supported by intuition, thus enabling the immediate or direct perception of the ‘spiritual essence of matter.’19

Yet, to achieve “an objective conception of what is true about reality, art must

subordinate to nature.”20 Therefore, Juszczak argues, both the physical and spiritual dimensions of reality occupied the Symbolists, thus distinguishing them from their

Realist positivist predecessors, who depicted only the material aspect of nature. As the

“artistic equivalent of positivist metaphysics [that is, physical and spiritual veracity],”

Symbolist art, unlike wholly naturalistic art, seeks to express the “psychic dimension of natural objects” rather than striving for mere mimesis or objectivity.21

While Juszczak’s definition proves useful in investigating the subjective character

of the works in Life and Chimera, his overall examination of modernism (as a period and

style that includes Symbolism) relies excessively upon the critical practices of

Modernism (in the Greenbergian sense). That is, he concentrates upon formalism, while deemphasizing subject matter. For example, he argues that Polish modernism was characterized by “the tendency [of Symbolism] toward Expressionism” that “focused on

the painting’s flatness, which did not allow the viewer to ‘confuse’ the figures within the

painting with the objects outside it.”22 Though technique is undoubtedly significant for

distinguishing Polish modern art from its predecessors, the analysis of subject matter

19 Juszczak, “Modernism—Symbolism—Expressionism,” 7.

20 Ibid.

21 Ibid.

22 Ibid., 8.

proves equally crucial, and, I argue, one cannot fully grasp Polish modernism without equal attention to both.

The artists promoted in Life and Chimera, for example, appropriated numerous themes and subjects from the Symbolist visual vocabulary to achieve legitimacy within pan-European modernism. However, “symbolism” was also understood by the journals’ editors as a particular treatment of subject matter, not merely a stylistic movement.

Therefore, I distinguish between “symbolism” (with a lowercase “s”) and “Symbolism”

(with an uppercase “S”). While the latter refers to a specific fin-de-siècle style, the

former is a broader classification akin to what art historian Mark Roskill terms

“symbolistic” art, which employs “a pictorial imagery and a language of an allusive or

suggestive kind.”23 I posit that the Polish editors, especially Przesmycki, promoted

“symbolism” throughout the pages of their journals. Because the artists of the Symbolist

movement most effectively employed “symbolism,” they received the greatest attention

from the editors. However, artists like Francisco Goya and Albrecht Dürer, for instance,

were also featured because their work manifested the evocative quality of a symbolist art.

“Decadence”

Fin-de-siècle Polish critics often (although not exclusively) deployed the label

“decadence” as an insult for “new” directions in art and literature. Yet, the term is problematic because of its ambiguity and resistance to precise definition. To make matters more confusing, “decadence” was often used interchangeably with “modernism” and even “impressionism,” despite that each word possesses very different connotations.

23 Mark Roskill, Van Gogh, Gauguin and the Impressionist Circle (Greenwich, CT: New York Graphic Society, 1970): 209.

As literary scholar David Weir explains, the term’s opposing meanings often amplified its equivocalness: “Decadence seems to emerge as both an extension of and a reaction to romanticism; as both a languorous and a rebellious state of mind; as both a decorative, superficial art and a pioneering, profound aesthetic.” 24

In his study about decadence in the visual arts and literature, literary scholar John

Reed accentuates the distinction between a “Decadent style” and art that contains

decadent elements. According to Reed, “The central quality of Decadent style is implicit

in the word’s etymology. It involves a falling away from some established norm. The

Decadent work of art does not boldly assert a new form against a presiding standard; it

elaborates an existing tradition to the point of apparent dissolution.”25 The decadent style

developed from both the Aesthetic movement and Naturalism, “combin[ing] Aesthetic

idealism with an interest in the gross facts that appealed to the Naturalists while

abandoning their social motives.”26

Reed also distinguishes Symbolism from Decadent art, arguing that while

Symbolism underscores ambiguity in form, Decadence stresses close attention to detail.

Symbolism, reaching toward “transcendence,” avoids ugliness, while Decadence

embraces it. Decadence emphasizes the connection between beauty and ugliness, good

and evil; Symbolism severs these relationships “by converting offensive phenomenal

facts into symbols for an immaterial reality.” Moreover, while Symbolism derived from

Art-for-Art’s Sake and Aestheticism (beauty over ugliness, form over meaning, and

24 David Weir, Decadence and the Making of Modernism (Amherst: University of Massachusetts Press, 1995), 10. Weir notes that the contradictions arise from the fact the term’s meaning is “determined by the word to which it is opposed,” 13.

25 John R. Reed, Decadent Style (Athens, OH: Ohio University Press, 1985), 10.

26 Ibid., 13.

20 importance of “mood and reflection”), Decadent art “is an illegitimate by-blow sired by

Naturalism upon Aestheticism.”27 Furthermore, distinguishing between Decadent artists

(for Reed, artists such as Felicien Rops or Aubrey Beardsley) and Symbolist artists (such

as Odilon Redon and Ferdinand Hodler) proves difficult since “both use prominent symbols, reject the inelegant contemporary world, and stress the longing for another sphere of being—aesthetic, ideal, even supernatural.”28 However, whereas Symbolists may employ “decadent” subjects, they more willingly experiment with formal elements and ambiguous subject matter than their Decadent counterparts.29

For critics who used “decadence” as a critique against Young Poland, Life, and

Chimera, the label was used interchangeably with “degeneration,” a term made infamous by Max Nordau in his seminal study Entartung (1892). Nordau identified Symbolism, among other artistic movements, as a symptomatic feature of a civilization in decline.30

27 Ibid., 14.

28 Ibid., 14-15.

29 Reed argues, “To write of [or, one can add, to depict] decadence is not to be decadent.” Ibid., 105. In the fine arts, “artistic method, not subject matter, is the true defining element of Decadence.” Decadent art tends to be realistic, but the compositions consist of “independent, even contending parts, the order and significance of which could be recovered only through an intellectual effort at comprehension.” 129. Reed compares, for example, Gustave Moreau’s The Suitors (decadent) with Thomas Couture’s Romans of the Decadence (decadent only in subject matter.)

30 For the English translation, see Max Nordau, Degeneration, trans. from the Second Edition of Entartung (New York: D. Appleton and Company, 1895). While conservative critics blamed society’s degeneration on the “decadents,” other intellectuals maintained that the decay of society stemmed from the bourgeoisie, as in Claude Marie Raudot’s La decadence de la France (1850) and the anonymous English pamphlet The Decline and Fall of the British Empire (1905). Przesmycki would have agreed with the latter, since he faulted the recently created bourgeoisie for the debasement of society and lowered standards in art and literature. The bourgeoisie, which transcended social class, also included “all who think and feel basely, dully, prosaically, for whom ‘laeva in parte mamillae nil salit’ (Juvenal), who renounce all ideal longing and desires or submit them to ‘practical’ and ‘real’ things, who mock any [who] ascend . . . who do not understand [the meaning of] ‘life elevating itself above life.’” [“którzy myślą i czują nisko, płasko, przyziemnie, którym ‘laeva in parte mamillae nil salit’ (Juve[n]alis), którzy zrzekają się wszystkich tęsknot i pragnień idealnych, lub podporządkowują je rzeczom ‘praktycznym’ i ‘realnym,’ którzy szydzą ze wszystkich wzlotów, . . . którzy nie rozumieją, co to jest ‘życie wzbijające się ponad życie.’”] Przesmycki, “Walka z sztuką” C 1, 2 (1901): 328. Przesmycki also lambasted Comte’s positivism for its philosophy of democratization.

Interrogating the meaning of “decadence,” he indicated that the Symbolists appropriated

this derisive term “as a title of honour.”31 Nordau argued that “Symbolism . . . is nothing

more than a form of the mysticism of weak-minded and morbidly emotional

degeneration.”32 The employment of the label “decadence,” and its habitual conflation

with “Symbolism,” therefore, was implicitly negative in Polish criticism.

Legitimizing Modernism

In his study Marketing Modernism in Fin-de-Siècle Europe, art historian Robert

Jensen stresses that “to market modernism artists, their dealers, critics, and historians

required above all to establish its historical legitimacy.”33 They did so by creating a

critical discourse in which they distanced the commercialism – that is, the economic and

promotional aspects – of the art market and exhibition systems from the modernist artists that relied upon them. The perceived separation between art and commerce was achieved, in part, through a careful mythologizing of the modernist artist, whose artistic personality overshadowed the realities of pecuniary transactions. That is, “what is modern, or avant- garde, by virtue of its claims to authenticity as art, is inherently not commercial.”34 The

truth, of course, was quite the opposite, and the system of artist exhibiting societies, dealers, and auctions ensured that modern works sold.

31 Nordau, 299.

32 Ibid., 144.

33 Robert Jensen, Marketing Modernism in Fin-de-Siècle Europe (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1994), 3.

34 Ibid., 22.

Among the strategies employed to conceal the inextricable connection between

the market and modernism was what Jensen terms the “ideological retrospective,” an

exhibition (often accompanied by a catalogue) focused on artistic achievement.35

Dealers, such as Paul Durand-Ruel, strove to distance art from money by calling attention to artists’ individual characters rather than their marketability.36 Furthermore, modernist

art criticism contributed to these market strategies by reinforcing the “cult of personality”

and deemphasizing, and sometimes openly rejecting, the commercial aspects of modern

art. Jensen’s argument builds on the approach offered by art historian Nicholas Green,

who persuasively argues that the art market system in France during the second half of the nineteenth century was characterized by a biographical rather than stylistic-centered

approach for marketing paintings – what Green terms “dealing in temperaments.”37

Jensen concentrates largely upon Paris and Berlin, cities around which “the

critical reception of art centered.”38 However, as his study shows, the marketing of

modernism contributed to its truly international status. In this dissertation, I adopt the

term “international modernism” to acknowledge the pervasive influence of the artistic, institutional, and discursive phenomenon in which European (and also American) artists, editors, and critics participated.

Any broad and complete analysis of this international modernism must consider the role of literary and artistic journals. Yet, while the exhibition and market systems

35 See Jensen, Chapter 4.

36 See Jensen, Chapter 2.

37 See Nicholas Green, “Dealing in Temperaments: Economic Transformation of the Artistic Field in France During the Second Half of the Nineteenth Century,” Art History 10, no. 1 (March 1987): 59-78.

38 Jensen, 7.

have received increasing attention from scholars such as Jensen and Green, but also

Oskar Batschmann, Cynthia White, and Harrison White, the role of periodicals within the modernist discourse has largely been overlooked or underemphasized.39 Yet, periodicals,

and especially “little magazines,” were vital for disseminating and framing modernism.

Life and Chimera openly adopted many of the modernist discursive strategies that

Jensen discusses. Both journals denounced (often with vitriol) commercialism in art and

placed a high value on artistic “temperament.” Like many little magazines, Life and

Chimera had strongly defined visual programs. These programs were underscored by the

belief that a distinctly Polish art fully participated within international modernism.

Among their strategies, the editors adopted the visual language of Symbolism, which

offered iconographic elasticity, allowing Polish artists to adopt modernist themes that

proffered countless interpretations that included “national” as well as “universal”

meanings. Indeed, the nature of Symbolist themes – inspired by dreams and the

imagination, emotional states, and the subjective reinterpretation of myths – contributed

toward their interpretive pliability. Symbolism’s malleability and its role as a pan-

European style strongly reinforced Life and Chimera’s international character. By

examining both of these journals’ modernist polemical and visual programs, my

dissertation contributes to the still scant English-language literature about the emergent

modernist discourse in Poland.

39 See Oskar Bätschmann, The Artist in the Modern World: A Conflict Between Market and Self-Expression ( New Haven: Yale University Press, 1997); and Harrison C. White and Cynthia A. White, Canvases and Careers: Institutional Change in the French Painting World (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1993).

Historiography

Modernism in Poland and Eastern Europe40

In a recent article for The New Yorker, the writer Milan Kundera contends, “The dynamism and long life span of the history of the European arts are inconceivable without the existence of all [European] nations whose diverse experiences constitute an inexhaustible reservoir of inspiration.”41 Yet the scholarly concentration upon Western

European modernism, particularly in France, largely contributed to its mythic status and relegated Eastern European and Polish art to a side note in European art history.42

Postmodern revisionism, however, has challenged the dominance of Western European art, and the increase in English-language studies on Eastern European and Polish art history has been dramatic.

Two ambitious studies encompassing the period covered in this dissertation include Stephen Mansbach’s Modern Art in Eastern Europe: From the Baltic to the

Balkans, ca. 1890-1939 and Elizabeth Clegg’s Art, Design, and Architecture in Central

40 I hesitate to categorize Poland within Eastern Europe since various scholars alternately characterize Poland as a Central European or an Eastern European country. Even in the nineteenth century, Poland spanned both parts of Europe (that is, it was situated within Eastern European Russia and Central European Prussia and Austria). Unless citing a specific scholar, I refer to Eastern Europe and Poland simultaneously to avoid including uncritically the latter within the former. Also, I juxtapose Poland with Eastern rather than Central Europe (as in the header of this section) since the marginalization of Polish artists within art historical scholarship echoes the inattention given to Eastern European artists (as compared to those from Central Europe, particularly Austria). For discussion about the concepts of Eastern and Central Europe, see Robert Bideleux and Ian Jeffries, A History of Eastern Europe (New York: Routledge, 2007), and Milan Kundera, “The Tragedy of Central Europe,” New York Review of Books, 16 April 1984, 33-8.

41 Milan Kundera, “Die Weltliteratur,” The New Yorker, 8 January 2007, 28. Emphasis added.

42 The relative neglect of Eastern European and Polish art is evident in numerous surveys of European modern art such as Robert Rosenblum and H.W. Janson, 19th-Century Art (Upper Saddle River, NJ: Prentice Hall, 2005); George Heard Hamilton, Painting and Sculpture in Europe: 1880 to 1940 (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1993); or Sam Hunter and John Jacobus, Modern Art: Painting, Sculpture, Architecture (New York: Vendome Press, 2004).

Europe, 1890-1920.43 Art historian Jeremy Howard’s East European Art: 1650-1950

covers a much longer period – three hundred years – of Eastern European art history.44

Finally, World Impressionism, edited by art historian Norma Broude, offers a revision of modernism by examining the various international variations of Impressionism, considering each manifestation on its own terms and outside of French hegemony.45

None of these scholars purports to offer exhaustive analyses of their subjects.

Nevertheless, their studies result in only a cursory discussion of each individual country’s contributions to modernism, and the periodical press receives scant, if any, attention.

However, the need for selectivity is the consequence of undertaking any survey of art historical periods or regions, and these scholars must be commended for their contributions in underscoring Eastern and Central European involvement in European modernism.

Though the above studies signal the growing English-language scholarship on

Eastern and Central Europe art, studies on Polish modern art remain primarily restricted to the Polish language and, therefore, relatively obscure to scholars unfamiliar with either the language or culture. The edited volume Polish Artistic Life from 1890-1914 provides a general outline of Polish artistic practices between those years.46 The authors include

information about every exhibition (both in Poland and abroad) incorporating Polish

43 S. A. Mansbach, Modern Art in Eastern Europe: From the Baltic to the Balkans, ca. 1890-1939 (Cambridge University Press, 1998); Elizabeth Clegg, Art, Design, and Architecture in Central Europe, 1890-1920 (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2006).

44 Jeremy Howard, East European Art: 1650-1950 (New York: Oxford University Press, 2006).

45 Norma Broude, ed. World Impressionism: The International Movement, 1860-1920 (New York: Harry N. Abrams, 1990).

46 Aleksander Wojciechowski, ed., Polskie Życie Artystyczne w Latach 1890-1914 (Wrocław: Zakład Narodowy Imienia Ossolińskich, 1967).

artists; essays about the collectors (such as Feliks “Manggha” Jasieński), societies, and

organizations (such as Salon Ars and the Societies of the Friends of the Fine Arts in

Krakow) promoting Polish art; summaries of Polish artists’ groups (such as the Zero

Group, “Sztuka,” and the Group of Five); and overviews of the major journals and publications promoting Polish art. Although this book offers a wealth of information, its function as a reference source precludes any analytical content.

Several important and general studies on Young Poland also shed light upon this fin-de-siècle artistic movement. Tadeusz Dobrowolski’s The Art of Young Poland and

Stefania Krzysztofowicz-Kozakowska’s book of the same title are organized similarly: both divide the study of Young Poland into chapters about painting, sculpture, architecture, and decorative arts, and both are intended as surveys of the artistic period.47

Irena Kossowska investigates the graphic art of the period in The Birth of Polish Graphic

Arts 1897-1917.48 Her study is particularly relevant for my dissertation since we both

delve into the significance of the graphic arts’ revival to Polish modernism. However,

mine is a more focused discussion as I concentrate on the impact of graphic arts

specifically upon the visual programs of Life and Chimera.

Presently, only a handful of English-language studies on Polish modernist art

have been written, and two art historians, Jan Cavanaugh and Anna Brzyski, informed

considerably my research. In her book Out Looking In: Early Modern Polish Art, 1890-

1918, Cavanaugh provides the hitherto most comprehensive English-language scholarly

study of Young Poland, though she focuses upon the Society of Polish Artists, “Art”

47 Tadeusz Dobrowolski, Sztuka Młodej Polski (Warszawa: Państwowe Wydawnictwo Naukowe, 1963), and Krzysztofowicz-Kozakowska, Stefania. Sztuka Młodej Polski. Kraków: Kluszczyński, 1999).

48 Irena Kossowska, Narodziny Polskiej grafiki artystycznej 1897-1917 (Kraków: Universitas, 2000).

(“Sztuka”) and “Sztuka’s” contribution to Polish modernism.49 Cavanaugh examines the

artistic group’s endeavors to enter the international arena of art without losing sight of

Polish autonomy, and she argues for the significance of Polish art within the larger

context of modernism. Furthermore, she provides a brief discussion of the journals Life

and Chimera, summarizing their programmatic aims. Although Cavanaugh’s text

effectively introduces the journals, her discussion primarily profiles the publications

rather than closely analyzing their texts or images.

In both her doctoral dissertation and essay “Between the Nation and the World:

Nationalism and the Emergence of Polish Modern Art,” Brzyski analyzes the Young

Poland movement in relation to nationalism.50 Two articles for Nineteenth-Century Art

Worldwide, “Constructing the Canon: The Album Polish Art and the Writing of

Modernist Art History of Polish 19th-Century Painting” and “What’s in a Name? Artist-

Run Exhibition Groups and the Branding of Modern Art in Fin de Siècle Europe,”

consider how Polish artists articulated their modernism within a national and

international context.51 Brzyski’s work is particularly important to my own research in

terms of identifying Polish artists’ struggles to define their national identity and,

simultaneously, to insist upon their internationalism. Certainly, this was the case for Life

under its first two editors, Ludwik Szczepański and Artur Górski, who sought to

49 Jan Cavanaugh, Out Looking In: Early Modern Polish Art, 1890–1918 (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2000).

50 Anna W. Brzyski-Long, “Modern Art and Nationalism in Fin de Siècle Poland,” PhD dissertation, University of Chicago, 1999, and Brzyski, “Between the Nation and the World: Nationalism and the Emergence of Polish Modern Art,” Centropa 1, no. 3 (September 2001): 165-179.

51 Anna Brzyski, “Constructing the Canon: The Album Polish Art and the Writing of Modernist Art History of Polish 19th-Century Painting,” Nineteenth-Century Art Worldwide 3, no. 1 (Spring 2004); “What’s in a Name? Artist-Run Exhibition Groups and the Branding of Modern Art in Fin de Siècle Europe,” Nineteenth-Century Art Worldwide 6, no. 2 (Fall 2007) – both at www.19thc-artworldwide.org.

reconcile nationalism with international modernism. However, my study shows that

Przybyszewski and Przesmycki attempted to deflect the focus completely away from the

nationalist discourse.

Life and Chimera

My dissertation offers the first English-language analysis of the journals Life and

Chimera, which hitherto received the most attention by scholars who concentrated on

either their literary or polemical content. The first of these studies, Aleksander

Szymankiewicz’s “From the History of Polish Modernism (Warsaw’s Life, Krakow’s

Life, Chimera),” outlines these journals’ contents. His essay, however, offers little more than a summary of the various articles, poetry, and artistic contributions of Life and

Chimera (in addition to the Warsaw journal Life). Yet, the essay proves useful for readers who might find the task of reading the thousands of pages of these combined journals daunting.52

Władysław Hendzel’s and Piotr Obrączka’s On the Issue of Young Poland

Periodicals also examines three different Polish journals, in this case Chimera, Life, and

the literary journal Krytyka.53 As in Szymankiewicz’s essay, the focus remains on

literature and prose, though the authors probe specific aspects of the journals’ programs

and contents. In two chapters, Obrączka considers the influence of German literature

upon Life and Chimera and explores several of Life’s published responses to readers who

52 Aleksander Szymankiewicz, “Z historji modernizmu polskiego (‘Życie’ warszawskie, ‘Życie’ krakowskie, ‘Chimera’),” Przegląd humanistyczny 2, no. 1 (1923): 23-65.

53 Władysław Hendzel and Piotr Obrączka, Z problemów czasopiśmiennictwa Młodej Polski (W kręgu krakowskiego “Życia”, “Krytyki” i “Chimery” (Opole: WSP im. Powstańców Śląskich, 1988).

29 sent contributions in hopes of publication.54 Hendzel, on the other hand, examines

Chimera’s various essays on theater and Maria Komornicka’s literary criticism for the journal. Both Hendzel and Obrączka, therefore, focus on the textual and literary components of the journals.

The above studies consider both Life and Chimera in the context of other Polish journals. Both periodicals have received scholarly monographic attention as well, with

Chimera receiving greater emphasis. Indeed, Life’s multiple editorial changes present certain challenges to scholarly analysis since the journal did not develop a fully cohesive program. Literary critic Edward Boyé’s brief study, In the Cradle of Modernism: The

Aesthetic Views on the Pages of Krakow’s “Life”, which constitutes the sole monograph on the journal, attempts to elucidate the changing aims in Life.55 However, he ignores the visual program of the journal completely, focusing solely on editorial essays.

54 These responses were often terse and discourteous, and, one might add, the most humorous aspects of Life. Located on the last page, the responses frequently addressed the person only via his or her initials, though the addressee’s surname was indicated in a number of the responses. In most cases, the editors either briefly accepted or rejected a submission. However, several of the responses blatantly insulted the contributor’s lack of talent. For example, the editors replied to “L. Kf.”: “Your [poem? story?] ‘In the black room,’ has no style, nor thought; the mood [nastrój] is clumsily borrowed from Maeterlinck and Przybyszewski.” Z 2, 12 (1898).

55 Edward Boyé, U kolebki modernizmu: Estetyczne poglądy na łamach krakowskiego “Życia” (Kraków: Nakładem Krakowskiej Spółki Wydawniczej, 1922). Aleksander Zyga’s essays about Life might also be added to the list of monographic studies of the journal. However, he examines solely Szczepański’s contributions and presents mere summaries, rather than analyses, of Life’s programmatic essays. Furthermore, he essentially neglects the journal’s visual program. Nevertheless, Zyga’s biographical account of Szczepański is particularly valuable as Szczepański received significantly less attention in the scholarly literature than his contemporaries Przybyszewski and Przesmycki. For a discussion of Life under Szczepański, see Aleksander Zyga, “Krakowskie ‘Życie’ pod redakcją Ludwika Szczepańskiego (1897- 1898) – Część I,” Kwartalnik Historii Prasy Polskiej 25, no. 3 (1986): 19-46; Zyga, “Krakowskie ‘Życie’ pod redakcją Ludwika Szczepańskiego (1897-1898) – Część II,” Kwartalnik Historii Prasy Polskiej 25, no. 4 (1986): 47-68; Zyga, ed., “Materiały do genezy i powstania krakowskiego ‘Życia’ Ludwika Szczepańskiego (Listy L. Szczepańskiego),” Pamiętnik Literacki 69, no. 2 (1978): 189-226. For a biographical account on Szczepański, see Zyga, “Młodość pisarska Ludwika Szczepańskiego,” Rocznik Komisji Historyczno-Literackiej Polskiej Akademii Nauk w Krakowie 9 (1973): 37-86.

In the first half of the book, Boyé argues that the aesthetic criticism of editor

Szczepański and Górski distinctly departed from the artistic conception of “useful” art

proffered by Leo Tolstoy and championed by those critics decrying the values of modernism. However, I argue that while the two editors undoubtedly advocated purging

didacticism, the complete eschewal of the Tolstoyan conception of art was only fully

achieved during Przybyszewski’s tenure. Therefore, in my dissertation, I examine how

Przybyszewski, in his seminal essay “Confiteor,” directly confronted Tolstoy’s notion of

a useful art.

Boyé dedicates much of the second half of his study to “Confiteor,” arguing that

the roots of Przybyszewski’s aesthetic theory lie in German Romantic philosophy.56

Though German Romanticism undoubtedly provides a useful lens through which to consider Przybyszewski’s essay, it is an incomplete picture. I contend that

Przybyszewski’s theories cannot be fully understood without equal consideration to

Symbolism and Aestheticism.

While Life has received little monographic attention, the scholarship on Chimera is more substantial. Aleksander Wallis’s essay “The Role of Art and Artists in Miriam’s

Chimera,” offers the first art historical analysis of the journal.57 However, its date of

publication (1953), during the period of Soviet communism in Poland, is revealing.

Wallis presents a politically charged polemic about the role that Chimera played in promoting a “bourgeois ideology” via Przesmycki’s castigation of the destruction of

56 I discuss Boyé’s analysis in more detail in chapter 2.

57 The essay, published in the Polish journal Materials for the Study and Discussion of the Field of Art History and Theory, Art Criticism and Artistic Inquiry, is a portion of the author’s masters’ thesis for the University of Łódź. Aleksander Wallis, “Zadania sztuki i artysty według ‘Chimery’ Miriama,” Materiały do studiów i dyskusji z zakresu teorii i historii sztuki, krytyki artystycznej oraz badań nad sztuka ̨ 3, no. 1 (1953): 266-332.

hierarchies.58 Wallis was clearly influenced by the Socialist Realist values of creating

art that dictated a social message, and he criticizes Przesmycki for his promotion of

irrationalism and mysticism, which, Wallis agues, contributed to the eventual triumph of

formalism in Polish art. Wallis’s politically biased and ideologically motivated treatise is

difficult to accept without significant skepticism.

Jeannine Łuczak-Wild’s Die Zeitschrift “Chimera” und die Literatur des

polnischen Modernismus presents a more objective account of the journal.59 She focuses

primarily on the journal’s literary content and Przesmycki’s biography. While her study

contains a brief chapter on the graphic art of the journal, she offers little analysis about the significance of Chimera’s visual program. Primarily, she aims to illustrate how the journal departed from edification in favor of personal and spiritual expression characterizing fin-de-siècle literature.

In 1979, the Adam Mickiewicz Museum of Literature in Warsaw dedicated an exhibition to Chimera titled In the Circle of “Chimera”: Polish Modernist Art and

Literature (25 September, 1979 – 30 May 1980). The exhibition and its accompanying catalogue attempted to examine equally the art and literature presented in the journal. The catalogue underscores a number of issues crucial to understanding the program of

Chimera, including the concept of the Gesamtkunstwerk and art for art’s sake as well as the prevalence of myths and fables in the journal (all discussed in this dissertation’s following chapters). The two opening essays present an enlightening introduction to the artists and authors of the Chimera circle and highlight the role of Symbolism and foreign

58 This aspect of Przesmycki’s program is discussed in detail in chapter 4.

59 Jeannine Łuczak-Wild, Die Zeitschrift “Chimera” und die Literatur des polnischen Modernismus (Luzern: C.J. Bucher, 1969).

art and literature in the journal. However, the authors make no attempt to analyze

Przesmycki’s polemical essays. Furthermore, while they highlight several visual themes

in Chimera, such as “fantasy” and “landscape,” the authors do not analyze closely

specific images within these themes.

To find a truly comprehensive and rigorous analysis of Chimera, one must look to

the literary scholar Grzegorz Paweł Bąbiak and his monograph Metropolis and

Backwater: In the Circle of Zenon Przesmycki’s “Chimera.”60 Bąbiak’s study is an

ambitious, interdisciplinary effort to present the journal within the context of Warsaw

(the “metropolis” and “backwater” of the title); situate its role among Polish and

European periodicals of the fin de siècle; interrogate its reception by the Polish press; and

analyze Przesmycki’s polemical essays about art, literature, culture, and criticism. Both

Bąbiak and I argue that the journal had its roots in international modernism, which

influenced Przesmycki’s polemical essays and visual program. However, my study

places significantly more emphasis on the role of symbolism in articulating the journal’s

modernist intentions.

Overview and Outline

The international character of both Chimera and Life implicitly reinforced the

idea that Polish art belonged on the international art stage, a position that increased the

probability of its “historical legitimacy.” This argument represents a considerable change

of my initial thesis, which maintained the supremacy of a French-centered aesthetic in

both journals. When I proposed my topic, I had a very different dissertation in mind, a

60 Grzegorz Paweł Bąbiak, Metropolia i zaścianek: w kręgu “Chimery” Zenona Przesmyckiego (Warszawa: Wydziału Polonistyki Uniwersytetu Warszaskiego, 2002).

33 fact clearly reflected in my original title, “A Taste for Paris: The Modernist Dialogue between France and “Young Poland,” 1890-1914.” While it is indisputable that the

Parisian artworld played a crucial role for Young Poland artists, I soon discovered that I was only telling a small part of the story. Moreover, my preliminary thesis reinforced a long-Francocentric art history in which Paris functioned as the center of the artworld. In fact, Paris was one of the centers – to which we may add Vienna, London, Berlin and

Munich, among others – permeated by multivalent ideas, theories, and aesthetics. In order to communicate this reality more clearly, therefore, I had to move beyond my sole focus on Paris, whose artworld was simply a microcosm of a much larger international modernism.

The sheer diversity of the European artworld was made explicit on the pages of

Life and Chimera. While the works by Poles far outnumber those of their foreign counterparts, the nationalities represented in both journals included French, Norwegian,

German, Cuban, Chinese, and Japanese, to name only a few. And in these periodicals, the editors molded a critical discourse in which Young Poland was situated within an international modernism. Though they did so through different means, this critical discourse was shaped through a carefully orchestrated visual and written rhetoric.

In the following chapters, I analyze the most significant polemical essays as well as the visual programs of Life and Chimera to demonstrate how they interpreted and promoted modernism. Combined, these journals comprise thousands of pages, and an examination of all texts and images therein is not practical. Therefore, I include two appendices outlining the visual and textual contents of both journals, with all titles of essays, works of art, prose, and poetry translated into English. Within the body of the

34 dissertation itself, I focus particularly on the writings of Przybyszewski and Przesmycki, since these two editors most strongly articulated a new form of artistic practice, one that sought to re-characterize the nationalist discourse. This leads me yet again to another problematic term: “nationalism.”

I partially devote the first chapter, “Poland: A Historical and Artistic Context,” to defining this term, since nineteenth and early-twentieth-century Poland cannot be understood effectively without considering nationalism, which pervaded almost every facet of Polish consciousness. The chapter also presents a historical context for Poland, a country that did not exist during the period of my inquiry. These contextual sections are crucial to elucidating the cultural, social, and political climate in which Life and Chimera arose. Indeed, it is not enough to label Life and Chimera “Polish little magazines” and proceed to an analysis of their contents since the concept of “Polish” was increasingly threatened. Furthermore, despite the emphasis placed upon nationalism in fin-de-siècle

Polish society, Przybyszewski and Przesmycki wholly rejected the role of espousing national identity in their journals, advocating instead an international or, rather, supra- national identity, in which Polish artists and writers vitally participated.

The editors of both Chimera and Life were integral members of Young Poland, which challenged the arts’ previous instructive roles. Therefore, chapter 1 is also dedicated to a discussion of this artistic and literary movement and the artistic atmosphere in which it burgeoned. Finally, the chapter examines the role of periodicals in Poland to demonstrate how Life and Chimera diverged from their predecessors.

Life underwent three distinct editorial changes, and, therefore, a clear shift in its program during its brief existence is readily apparent. In Chapter 2, “Life’s Editorial

Directions: Crafting a Modernist Journal,” I examine these changes by analyzing the

most significant polemical essays by the periodical’s various editors and writers. In

Chapter 3, “Life’s Visual Program: From Tropes to ‘Personalities,’” I analyze its visual program, altered both by the editorial changes and by the introduction of the artistic directors, Leon Wyczółkowski and Stanisław Wyspiański, respectively.

In various essays, the first editor, Life’s founder Szczepański, and his immediate

successor, Górski, strove to demonstrate that art could be both uniquely national and

modern. The visual program under both editors was dominated by Polish artists whose

works often alluded to national tropes (for example, the nostalgic landscape) depicted

through the visual language of Symbolism, which allowed the artist to transcend purely

nationalist interpretations. In other words, the illustrations were distinctly modern

because they did not derive meaning purely from “externally generated values,” to

borrow Adamson’s phrase.

Under Szczepański and Górski, therefore, Life maintained both its national

character and, simultaneously, functioned as a modernist little magazine. However, the

journal underwent a sweeping change under its last editor, Przybyszewski. For him, the

need to reconcile modernism with nationalism was of no consequence owing to his

conviction that art was entirely supra-national. Przybyszewski eliminated the portions of

the journal that previously dealt with social and political commentary, creating the first

Polish journal dedicated solely to art and literature and pure artistic expression. The

editor structured Life around various artistic and literary “personalities,” thereby

accentuating artistic identity, a crucial theme within modernism.

Like Przybyszewski, Chimera’s Przesmycki insisted that artists express their

“inner states.” However, he also argued that artists seek not only psychic expression but also metaphysical “truths.” He further maintained that art must also exhibit beauty, a notion that Przybyszewski rejected. Beauty was essential not because it pointed to some

“agreeable” appearance but because it signified an attuned aesthetic sensibility. In

Chimera, Przesmycki created a mouthpiece for his artistic and literary theories, which were based on the idea that art must always transcend material reality. In Chapter 4,

“Chimera and Zenon Przesmycki’s Polemical Essays: Artistic Ideals,” I examine these ideas of Przesmycki, who articulated them in several programmatic polemical essays in his periodical.

Chapter 5, “Chimera’s Visual Program: Evocation and the Imagination,” demonstrates Przesmycki’s characterization of the artist as priest-seer, a distinctly modernist program. Concentrating on a symbolist art, Przesmycki crafted a visual program that stressed the supremacy of the imagination and subjectivity. Those artists who embraced these aspects –Edward Okuń and Józef Mehoffer, for example – were prominently featured in the journal. The editor professed to publish only the best of the best. By underscoring the works of Polish artists, Przesmycki, like Przybyszewski, made a strong, if implicit, statement that modern Polish art had achieved the supra-national tendency of international modernism – and that it rightly belonged within its discourse.61

61 In my analyses of these journals, I adopt the masculine pronoun when referring to the modern artist and writer. I do so only to convey the gendered contemporary rhetoric under discussion. Indeed, a number of Polish female artists, in particular Olga Boznańska, played a significant role in defining Polish modernism during the fin de siècle but whose contributions, unless singled out, were virtually erased via contemporary writers’ references to the artist and “his” role in society and/or culture.

Chapter 1

Poland: A Historical and Artistic Context

Introduction

On December 10, 1896, the French playwright, poet, and novelist, Alfred Jarry

introduced his absurdist play Ubu Roi (1896) to an audience at the Parisian Symbolist

Théâtre de l’Œuvre. Before exiting the stage, Jarry pronounced, “And the action, which

is about to start, takes place in Poland, that is to say Nowhere.”62 Perhaps few statements

so succinctly summarize the state of a country that disappeared from the European map at

the turn of the eighteenth century, not to be restored until the end of the First World War.

Poles were a people without a country. Subsumed into the three different cultural and

political regimes of Austria, Russia, and Prussia, Poland ceased to exist during a crucial

period of nation-state building throughout Europe. Therefore, Polish art and literature

often served a nationalistic function – a place where national pride and identity could be

manifested to assure Poles a place on the world stage.

The significance of maintaining Polish national identity was reinforced in the

press, which, by the end of the nineteenth century, served as the dominant vehicle for

political, cultural, and social discourse in Poland as throughout most of Europe. Yet,

while journalism provided an efficient means to disseminate ideas, disparate authorial

voices mediated these ideas. Readers navigated a terrain of facts, biases, and even

fabrications by writers who sought both to inform and to convert. Although the polemics

62 Alfred Jarry, “Preliminary Address at the First Performance of Ubu Roi, 10 December 1896” in Modernism: An Anthology of Sources and Documents, eds. Vassiliki Kolocotroni, Jane Goldman and Olga Taxidou (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1998), 131.

arising among journalists and writers were most deeply felt in political and social

discourse, criticism of art and literature engaged in similar vociferous debates, and Polish

critics often judged art and literature on their capacity to reinforce and reinvigorate

national pride and identity. Art and literary criticism and political discourse, therefore,

were often mutually inclusive.

The following chapters focus upon the editorial and artistic programs of Life and

Chimera and their contributions to both Young Poland and international modernism.

Yet, to grasp the significance of the two journals, they must be socially, politically, and culturally contextualized. Life was based in Krakow while Chimera was created in

Warsaw. Although both were Polish cities and, to various degrees, centers of Polish intellectual culture, they existed in very different cultural and political climates since

Krakow was under Austrian control while Warsaw was a territory of Russia. This chapter, therefore, briefly outlines Poland’s troubled history in the nineteenth century and positions Warsaw and Krakow within that history. Having provided this background, the chapter discusses the role of nationalism in Poland to situate Life, Chimera, and

Young Poland within this nationalist discourse and to elucidate their resistance to it.

Finally, the chapter provides an overview of the Polish press and the Young Poland artistic movement to clarify the journals’ roles within the latter. The founders and editors of Chimera and Life were writers, not visual artists. Nevertheless, their goals for both art and literature were closely aligned.

A Brief History of Poland

The date of the foundation and origin of the Polish state is generally agreed as

966, when prince Mieszko I converted to Catholicism (still Poland’s dominant religion) and married a Czech princess, actions leading to Poland’s recognition as a Western

Christian state.63 The following six centuries were characterized by Poland’s political and cultural assimilation within Europe under the Piast (1025-1370) and Jagiellon (1385-

1572) dynasties. By the second half of the seventeenth century, however, Poland declined militarily and diplomatically. Meanwhile, three empires – Austria, Prussia, and

Russia – rose in power and contributed to one of the biggest, and most devastating, changes in Polish history. Between 1773 and 1795, Poland underwent three partitions among the three powers, effectively erasing the once great state from the European map for over one hundred years.64

The first partition occurred in 1773 under the reign of Russia’s Empress Catherine the Great, who, along with Prussia’s Frederick II and Austria’s Joseph II, took advantage of Poland’s political and religious internal strife and began the eventual three-stage partition of the country.65 During the first partition, Poland was under the leadership of

63 For a comprehensive history of Poland, see Norman Davies, God's Playground: A History of Poland. 2 vols. (New York: Columbia University Press, 1982). Davies also published a condensed history focusing upon the impact of Poland’s past upon its present. Davies, Heart of Europe: The Past in Poland’s Present (New York: Oxford University Press, 1984; 2001). See also Jerzy Lukowski and Hubert Zawadzki, A Concise History of Poland (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2006).

64 The restoration of Poland was not immediate but occurred as a result of various factors. A significant contributing cause was the fall of the Russian Empire in 1917, resulting in Russia’s Provisional Government’s issuance of a Proclamation on Polish Independence and U.S. President Wilson’s Fourteen Points, which called for an independent Poland. In 1918, the other two partitioning powers, the Habsburg and German Empires, collapsed, and in November of that year, the Second Republic of Poland was proclaimed an independent state, with General Józef Piłsudski as its head.

65 The actual partitioning of the land occurred in 1773, but the treaties for partition were signed in 1772. Information about the partitions comes from Davies’s histories of Poland and Piotr Wandycz, The Lands of Partitioned Poland, 1795-1918 (Seattle and London: University of Washington Press, 1974).

Stanisław August Poniatowski, who, despite the initial annexation, sought to strengthen

once again Poland-Lithuania’s political presence.66 Under his leadership, the first ministry of education in Europe was established, and, on May 3, 1791, the Four Years’

Sejm (the Polish diet or parliament) produced a written constitution. However, the new democratic Constitution and the Sejm’s plans to sign a treaty with Prussia impelled

Catherine to action. She induced the Prussians to her side by promising them the city of

Gdańsk (Danzig) and invaded Poland, nullifying their Constitution and carrying out a second, larger partition between Russia and Prussia.67

Poles did not take the partition without resistance. In 1794, from Krakow’s

Market Square, General Tadeusz Kościuszko led an insurrection against the Russian and

Prussian powers in what has been dubbed the National or Kościuszko Uprising.68 The rebellion only briefly succeeded, but, in 1795, the third and final partition was carried out. The Prussians gained Warsaw, twenty percent of the land and twenty-three percent of the total population. Austria gained Krakow and Lublin, eighteen percent of the land and thirty-two percent of the population. Russia gained Wilno and most of the Grand

Duchy of Lithuania (and the Ukraine), sixty-two percent of the land, and forty-five percent of the population.69 The Kingdom of Poland was no more.

66 In 1569, the alliance of Poland with the Grand Duchy of Lithuania resulted in the unification of the two powers into the Republic of Poland-Lithuania.

67 Prussia also gained Poznań (or Posen), a major Polish city.

68 Kościuszko is considered a heroic figure not only by Poles but also Americans since he served as an officer in the American Revolution. For information on Kościuszko, see James S. Pula, Thaddeus Kosciuszko: The Purest Son of Liberty (New York: Hippocrene Books, 1999) and Jan Lubicz-Pachoński, Kościuszko na Ziemi Krakowskiej (Warszawa and Kraków: Państwowe Wydawnictwo Naukowe, 1984).

69 Wandycz, Lands of Partitioned Poland, 11.

The following century witnessed Poles’ unflagging attempts to strengthen their

national identity as they sought to reestablish a Polish state. In June 1807, Napoleon met

with Tsar Alexander to discuss, among other matters, the Polish question. Together, they decided to form the Duchy of Warsaw, ruled by the king of Saxony (Frederick August) and invoking a constitution “that would guarantee its freedom but not endanger the neighboring powers.”70 Although Poles hoped that the Duchy of Warsaw – which included the cities of Warsaw, Krakow, and Poznań – might serve as the start of a future

restored state, the duchy itself was short-lived. With the defeat of Napoleon in Russia in

1812, the tsar took over the duchy. However, the Congress of Vienna, which met from

1814 to 1815, opposed Alexander’s exclusive territorial claim to the land, and the duchy

was once again divided among the three partitioning powers. Krakow, however, became

a free city, “under the joint protectorate of the three powers.”71

While the Duchy of Warsaw had clearly been a Polish state (though without any

references to “Poland” as such), the newly created Congress Kingdom (or Kingdom of

Poland), which subsumed Warsaw, was controlled by the three powers. Tsar Alexander served as the ruler of the Kingdom until his death in 1825, when the more autocratic

Nicholas I assumed power. A few years later, in 1830, the November Insurrection led to a full-scale war with Russia and spread from Warsaw to surrounding Congress cities.72

Although the Sejm dethroned the tsar in January 1831, the Poles’ tenuous independence

70 Ibid., 42.

71 Ibid., 62.

72 Few sources on the November Insurrection are available in English, the most notable being R.F. Leslie’s Polish Politics and the Revolution of November 1830 (Westport, CT: Greenwood Press, 1956; 1969). See also Władysław Zajęwski, Powstanie Listopadowe 1830-1831 (Warszawa: Dom Wydawniczy Bellona, 1998) and Jerzy Skowronek and Irena Tessaro-Kosimowa, Warszawa w powstaniu listopadowym (Warszawa: Panstwowe Wydawn. Nauk., 1980).

was, once again, only temporary. In September 1831, after months of struggle, Warsaw

surrendered to Russia, which instituted a massive restructuring of Polish government and

culture. The constitution and the Sejm were eradicated; the Polish army was abolished,

many soldiers forced into the Russian army; and the Polish currency of złoty was replaced

by Russian rubles. More drastic for Polish culture were the beginning implications of

Russification, as schools and public institutions fell under Russian authority. In 1835,

Nicholas threatened the Polish people, “If you persist in nursing your dreams of a distinct

nationality, of an independent Poland . . . you can only draw the greatest of misfortunes

upon yourselves.”73

Yet Poles were not so easily discouraged. In January 1863, insurrectionists within

the Russian partition initiated another revolt against Russian authority (this time of

Alexander II), though ultimately experiencing defeat in August of 1864.74 The defeat for

Poland, in fact, was calamitous, as Russia dissolved the Congress Kingdom, merging it

with the Russian Empire. An intense period of Russification commenced, most conspicuously in Polish schools and universities in which Russian functioned as the official language.75

Increasing suppression contributed to the “Great Emigration” between 1831 and

1870, in which thousands of insurrectionists left Poland and relocated throughout Europe,

particularly France. Krakow, an independent republic as a result of the Congress of

73 Quoted in Wandycz, Lands of Partitioned Poland, 122-3.

74 See Stefan Kieniewicz, Powstanie styczniowe (Warszawa: Krajowa Agencja Wydawnicza, 1987).

75 Prussian-controlled Poland was also subjected to strict enforcements. With the creation of the German Empire in 1871, for example, Poles underwent increased Germanization, including restrictions upon the use of the Polish language, though not to the degree witnessed in Russia. The terms “Russification” and “Germanization” refer to the efforts of the Russian and Prussian powers to impose cultural and political assimilation of Poland within the respective empires.

Vienna, also served as a sanctuary for both émigrés and insurrectionists and a breeding

ground for liberalism.

However, in 1846, Galicia (the Austrian-controlled territory of Poland) subsumed

Krakow, which transitioned to a territory of the Hapsburg Empire. Yet unlike Warsaw,

which, as a Russian territory, was subject to the most repressive of the three powers,

Krakow experienced a much less restrictive subjugation. The Austrian rulers, unlike

those of Russia and Prussia, did not target Galician Poles’ language and Catholicism.

The cultural and administrative areas of Galician Poland received considerable sovereignty, and, consequently, the Habsburgs gained the loyalty of many of their Polish subjects.76 Krakow also gave birth to the Young Poland movement and its earliest

mouthpiece, Life.

Young Poland and Life emerged during a century of steadily rising nationalism,

which, by the end of the century, resulted in a number of nationalist organizations.77

Nationalism functions as an ideology and, therefore, is not synonymous with patriotism, which is the expression of and loyalty to this ideology. In late-nineteenth-century

Poland, a determined reinterpretation of nationalism in which patriotism was internalized rather than didactically articulated contributed to among the most significant differences between the art and literature of Young Poland and the art and literature of their

76 See Piotr S. Wandycz, “The Poles in the Habsburg Monarchy,” Austrian History Yearbook 3, no. 2 (1967): 261-86. For a discussion of Galician pluralism, see Chris Hann and Paul Robert Magosci, ed. Galicia: A Multicultured Land (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2005).

77 In 1892, for example, the Polish Socialist Party (PPS, Polska Partia Socjalistyczna) was founded. It was later led by Józef Piłsudski, future leader of a reunified Poland. Other significant political movements include the National Democrats, led by Roman Dmowski, who, as historian Brian Porter shows in his study about Polish nationalism, contributed to rising anti-Semitism in Poland. Brian Porter, When Nationalism Began to Hate: Imagining Modern Politics in Nineteenth-Century Poland (New York: Oxford University Press, 2000).

Romantic predecessors, and between Life (particularly under the editorship of

Przybyszewski) and Chimera and the majority of the Polish press. This calls into question

the concepts of nationality, nationalism, and national identity, especially during a period

when Poland did not exist. Therefore, the following section examines, first, a general

definition of nationalism, and, subsequently, the ideology’s development in Poland and

impact upon artists and critics.

“Nationalism”

Historians Benedict Anderson and Eric Hobsbawm provide valuable definitions

of nationalism, which they regard as a modern cultural construction.78 In his influential

study Imagined Communities, Anderson argues that a nation is an imagined community,

“imagined because the members of even the smallest nation will never know most of

their fellow-members . . . yet in the minds of each lives the image of their communion.”79

In his introduction to Nations and Nationalism since 1780, Hobsbawm adopts Ernest

Gellner’s conception of “nationalism” as “primarily a principle which holds that the political and national unit should be congruent.”80 According to Hobsbawm, nationalism

achieved legitimacy through its reliance upon “invented traditions,” “a set of practices . . .

which seek to inculcate certain values and norms of behaviour by repetition, which

78 For a cogent historiography on nationalism scholarship, see Anthony D. Smith, Nationalism and Modernism (London and New York: Routledge, 1998).

79 Benedict Anderson, Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origin and Spread of Nationalism (London and New York: Verso, 1983; 1991), 6.

80 Quoted in Eric Hobsbawm, Nations and Nationalism since 1780: Programme, Myth, Reality (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1990), 9.

automatically implies continuity with the past.”81 In Poland, the concept of the imagined community (the Polish nation) and its reliance upon invented traditions (such as distinct

visual and literary symbols, as discussed below) manifested itself in the nineteenth century.

As historian Peter Brock points out, “it was during the era when the country lay divided between the partitioning powers that modern Polish nationalism was securely forged.”82 During this period, as this section elaborates, the concept of Polish nationalism

and its various lexicographic and visual manifestations – that is, patriotic expression

within written and artistic discourse – both evolved and exhibited signs of continuity.

Furthermore, until the latter half of the century, national identity was considered fluid and

inclusive. Meanwhile, the nationalist debate and “Polish question” concerned primarily

members of the intelligentsia and “only a minority of those we might categorize as

Polish, with few peasants demonstrating any interest in independence.”83

According to historian Brian Porter, “The Polish patriot of the early nineteenth

century enacted the nation rather than embodying it. . . . They [Polish intellectuals] removed their nation from the material world in which tyrants could destroy and oppress, and they relocated it onto a transcendent, spiritual plane.”84 This concept was best articulated in Dąbrowski’s mazurka, which proudly declares, “Poland is not yet lost while

81 Hobsbawm, “Introduction: Inventing Traditions” in The Invention of Tradition, eds. Eric Hobsbawm and Terence Ranger (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1983), 1. Hobsbawm contends that though traditions were invented throughout the ages, the rapid social change of the modern age necessitated an increasing number of these traditions to create cohesion within a social community or nation. Ibid., 4-9.

82 Peter Brock, “Polish Nationalism,” in Nationalism in Eastern Europe, eds. Peter F. Sugar and Ivo J. Lederer (Seattle: University of Washington Press, 1969), 310.

83 Porter, 15. Indeed, Hobsbawm argues that nationalism, an ideology that changes over time, tends to reach the poorest population last. Hobsbawm, Nations and Nationalism since 1780, 11-12.

84 Porter, 16.

46 we live.”85 Polish intellectuals did not feel it necessary to tie their identity to a geographical location and accepted a relatively heterogeneous concept of nationalism.

In the 1830s, after the November Insurrection, a messianic nationalism arose, advanced by Polish intellectuals of the szlachta (or gentry) such as the poets Kazimierz

Brodziński and Adam Mickiewicz.86 Mickiewicz, in particular, brought Poland’s plight the greatest attention, especially in France, where he lived as an exile.87 His lectures at the College de France about the Polish cause, for example, generated a romantic surge of sympathy for Poland among the French masses. Mickiewicz promoted the idea of Poland

85 In 1797, after the third partition, three Polish legions commanded by General Henryk Dąbrowski and marching under the French revolutionary tricolore sang the mazurka. The lyrics for “Dąbrowski’s Mazurka” (written by Józef Wybicki and officially adopted in the twentieth century as Poland’s national anthem, as it recalls Poland’s plight and its people’s perseverance) are as follows: “Poland is not yet lost/ as long as we live/ We will reclaim with swords/ all that foreign powers have taken from us. March, march Dąbrowski/ from Italy to Poland/ Under your command/ we will unite with the nation. We will cross the Vistula and Warta Rivers, /we will be Poles, / Bonaparte showed us/ how to win. March, march Dąbrowski . . . Like Czarniecki to Posen,/ after Swedish annexation,/ We will return across the sea/ to save our fatherland March, march Dąbrowski . . . A Father says to his [daughter] Basia/ with tears in his eyes: / “Listen, it seems that our people/ are beating the drums." March, march Dąbrowski . . .” [“Jeszcze Polska nie zginęła/ Kiedy my żyjemy,/Co nam obca przemoc wzięła,/Szablą odbierzemy. Marsz, marsz, Dąbrowski,/Z ziemi włoskiej do Polski,/Za twoim przewodem/Złączym się z narodem. Przejdziem Wisłę, przejdziem Wartę,/Będziem Polakami,/Dał nam przykład Bonaparte,/Jak zwyciężać mamy. Marsz, marsz, Dąbrowski . . . Jak Czarniecki do Poznania/Po szwedzkim zaborze,/Dla ojczyzny ratowania/Wrócim się przez morze. Marsz, marsz, Dąbrowski . . . Już tam ojciec do swej Basi/Mówi zapłakany -/"Słuchaj jeno, pono nasi/Biją w tarabany." Marsz, marsz, Dąbrowski . . .”]

86 The word “szlachta” refers, roughly, to the gentry status of its members, whose wealth and social status were irrelevant. Both Mickiewicz and Brodziński were born of the petty or impoverished nobility. Until the partitions, the szlachta dominated Polish politics and kept a tight rein on the king. Membership to the szlachta was not limited to Poles. “According to recent calculations, a quarter of all Polish-speaking inhabitants of the commonwealth belonged to the szlachta.” Wandycz, Lands of Partitioned Poland, 5. Although most of the nationalist purveyors came from the noble class, the Romantic conception of a nation was more inclusive than its pre-partition predecessor, “with membership limited to the nobility and the intelligentsia.” Porter, 3.

87 France served as the beacon for the Great Emigration of the 1830s, when thousands of Poles sought safety following the November Insurrection. In addition to Mickiewicz, the emigrants also included Prince Adam Jerzy Czartoryski, who set up base at the Hotel Lambert in Paris while seeking to regain Polish independence.

47 as the “Christ of all nations,” noting that, like Christ, Poland did not die after its

“execution”: “For the Polish Nation did not die: its body lieth in the grave, but its soul

hath descended from the earth, that is from public life, to the abyss, that is to the private

life of people who suffer slavery in their country and outside of their country, that it may

see their sufferings.”88 His great epic poem Pan Tadeusz begins with the lines

“Lithuania! My fatherland, you are like health! Only he who has lost you, knows how much he must value you.”89 Mickiewicz felt himself both a Pole and a Lithuanian (he was, in fact, born in Lithuania); there was simply no conflict as the former Polish-

Lithuanian Commonwealth was a multi-ethnic kingdom in which nationality and ethnicity were not necessarily mutually inclusive. In fact, all were Poles.90

During the second half of the nineteenth century, such inclusive nationalism and its messianism gradually started to change, as non-Poles – those ethnically and linguistically distinct – formed their own nationalist movements. Although many intellectuals were vocal about the need to maintain a Polish identity, it was not until the partitioning powers’ attacks upon the Polish language and the Catholic religion escalated

88 Adam Mickiewicz, The Books of the Polish Nation and of the Polish Pilgrims in Poems by Adam Mickiewicz, ed. George Rapall Noyes (New York: Polish Institute of Art and Sciences in America, 1944.

89 “Litwo! Ojczyzno moja, ty jesteś jak zdrowie./ Ile cię trzeba cenić, ten tylko się dowie,/ Kto cię stracił.” Adam Mickiewicz, Pan Tadeusz in Pisma Adama Mickiewicza, tom 4 (Lipsk: F.A. Brockhaus, 1883), 9.

90 Lithuanians, who spoke their own language, were considered Poles because they had existed as part of the Polish-Lithuanian state for centuries. According to Wandycz, “Most noblemen in Lithuania, the Ukraine, or Belorussia became ‘Polish’ in the sense of embracing a higher form of state nationality. They did not become denationalized, as witnessed by the expression gente Rutheni natione Poloni (of Ruthenian race and Polish nation). Being a good Lithuanian in no way interfered with being a Pole.” Wandycz, Lands of Partitioned Poland, 5.This changed after the creation of an independent Lithuania (and Ukraine, etc.) In fact, both Lithuanians and Poles began claiming Mickiewicz as their “own.” Yet according to Timothy Snyder, “Although [Mickiewicz] never imagined a Lithuania separate from Poland, his images were used by Lithuanian activists ever more confident in their distinct ethnic and national identity.” Snyder, The Reconstruction of Nations: Poland, Ukraine, Lithuania, Belarus, 1569-1999 ( New Haven: Yale University Press, 2003), 29.

– the latter in the form of Otto von Bismarck’s Kulturkampf – that a growing number of

peasants concretely identified as Poles. Both Prussia and Russia, for example, initiated

programs to assimilate their Polish subjects within their respective empires by restricting

the Polish language within the realms of education and politics. The press, therefore,

assumed an increasing role in framing nationalism and manifesting Polish patriotism.

Indeed, as Anderson argues, print language played a significant role in cultivating

nationalism, and “the lexicographic revolution in [nineteenth-century] Europe . . .

created, and gradually spread, the conviction that languages (in Europe at least) were . . .

the personal property of quite specific groups.”91 Print language further engendered national identity by unifying people who spoke different vernaculars but understood the common print language, thereby fostering (an imagined) community.92

The importance of print language to nationalism was widely felt in Poland in the

1870s, when Polish nationalism took a significant turn with the dissemination of Warsaw positivism. Rather than focusing on such Romantic abstract ideas as Spirit and wistfully

dreaming of a free Poland, the positivists sought to work to attain liberation.93 In an essay titled “Political Directions,” the journalist Aleksander Świętochowski argued that

Poles must focus on their own advancement rather than fueling ineffective insurrectionary fervor. His argument represented the Polish positivists’ stance that the

91 Anderson, 84.

92 Ibid., 44. In Poland, the cultivation of nationalism through a common print language co-existed (until the latter half of the century) with the notion of an inclusive nationalism, which did not necessitate a shared language.

93 According to Porter, the Polish positivists did not identify with the Comtean sense of the term, “with its hierarchical secular priesthood, its managed economy, and its boundless faith in science” but drew upon the writings of John Stuart Mill and Herbert Spencer. Porter, 49. Following these writers’ principles, the positivist considered a “scientific” (that is, utilitarian and tenable) approach to the national plight more effective to impractical metaphysical ideas.

nation could only strengthen itself by focusing on its economic, cultural, and educational progress and that Poles should endeavor to cooperate with the partitioning powers.

The positivists also proposed a clearer delineation among nations than did their

Romantic predecessors. According to Porter, they “made the nation concrete—they turned it into an ethnolinguistic community rather than an ideal or spirit—and in doing so they blunted the revolutionary implications of nationalism and set the stage for solidifying cultural boundaries that had heretofore remained ambiguous and porous.”94

As the importance of a distinct ethnicity rose, artists, writers, and critics grew increasingly conscious about how written and visual language conveyed Poles’ particular national identity.

Though a lexicographic revolution, according to Anderson, prompted the creation of nationalism, Poland’s “ideographic” revolution also shaped the nationalist discourse.

Polish positivism fostered a utilitarian ethos within art criticism, as the positivists urged artists to curtail personal expression in favor of national subject matter. As Anna Brzyski points out, “Works of art and literature had to become weapons in the battle for cultural and therefore national survival.”95 Artists assumed “responsibility” to promote national identity to prevent its loss, a real fear for many intellectuals. By visually conceptualizing national myths, artists contributed to the creation of their imagined community.

For example, artists elevated the peasantry to an imagined, idealized status, a

Polish intellectualist tactic of projecting onto peasants an “uncorrupted” and pre-

94 Porter, 57.

95 Brzyski, “Between the Nation and the World,” 167.

50 industrialized Poland – a Poland of the past, a “pure” Poland.96 Both peasant subjects and the Polish countryside presented pivotal themes in Polish painting during the second half of the nineteenth century, and by the 1890s, a kind of apotheosis of the peasant – chłopomania or “peasant mania” – occurred. The artist Włodzimierz Tetmajer, for example, married the peasant Anna Mikołajczykówna and moved to the village of

Bronowice, whose rural peasant subjects he often painted.97 In addition to the peasant and countryside theme, numerous symbols, allegories, and metaphors (including the

“Polish mother” and Polonia, the female personification of Poland) indicate the importance of visual language as a national unifier.98

However, by the turn of the century, the positivists, their political stance, and their approach to the arts were considered passé (as the Romantics before them). Instead, a growing number of Polish artists and critics embraced the pan-European phenomenon of modernism.99 For the Polish modernists, nationalism and internationalism were closely

96 Brock, “Polish Nationalism,” 316.

97 For discussion of the iconographic significance of the peasant and countryside themes, see Cavanaugh, chapter 7; Beata Pranke, Nurt chłopomanii w twórczości Stanisława Radziejowskiego, Ludwika Stasiaka, Włodzimierza Tetmajera, Wincentego Wodzinowskiego i Kacpra Żelechowskiego (Warszawa: Neriton, 2003); Chłopi w sztuce polskiej, exh. cat. (Radom : Muzeum Okregowe im. Jacka Malczewskiego, 1994); and Halina Cekalska-Zborowska,̨ Wieś w malarstwie i rysunku naszych artystów (Warszawa: Ludowa Spóldzielnia Wydawnicza, 1969).

98 See Waldemar Okoń, Alegorie narodowe: Studia z dziejów sztuki polskiej XIX wieku (Wrocław: Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Wrocławskiego, 1992).

99 However, the positivist ideology did not entirely disappear, as some young intellectuals sought to conflate the utilitarian approach of the positivists with the idealism of the Romantics. This resulted in the ideology of National Democracy, whose doctrine accepted “that the nation encompassed an entire ethnolinguistic community, open to all those who spoke the same language . . . but closed to those who did not exhibit demonstrable markings of Polish ethnicity.” Porter, 189. The ethnic group who suffered most from this redefinition of nationalism was the Jews, who experienced a rampant anti-Semitism and vitriolic attacks in the press. Indeed, even Chimera, though in no way aligned with the National Democracy movement, exhibits traces of anti-Semitism, such as in several illustrations of a caricatured Semitic Judas by the artist Edward Okuń (Figure 67). The appearance of these images is especially perplexing since Chimera’s editor Przesmycki completely distanced himself from the nationalist debate. However, their

related rather than antithetical ideas. Moreover, the modernist Polish artist’s participation within the international artistic community validated his national identity. According to

Brzyski, by the 1890s:

The national value of a work was . . . determined not by its subject matter or style of execution, but by the ‘genius’ of its creator and its intrinsic worth. Because the worth was determined by purely aesthetic criteria, a modernist work, irrespective of its form or content, could equal or exceed in patriotic value conventional depictions of sanctioned national themes [such as events from Polish history].100

In fact, an artist (or writer) who adopted the modernist (visual or literary)

language ensured his ability to compete internationally, thus proving his legitimacy

within the European artworld.101 Brzyski argues, “Shifting the focus of the definition of national significance away from the work and onto the artist, the progressive critics were

able to argue that any painting or sculpture executed by a Polish artist was national,

Polish and hence patriotic.”102 For the Polish modernist, nationalism was achieved by attaining internationalism and cosmopolitanism.

In the following chapters, I outline the programs of Life and Chimera, and what

becomes clear is how the debates about nationalism eventually gave way to polemics

about the individual whose nationality was deemphasized. The first two editors of Life,

Szczepański and Górski, attempted to reconcile national identity with international

modernism, a relationship that some critics construed as discordant. In both their essays

and the visual content of the journal, these editors drastically re-articulated yet

consistently maintained national identity by underscoring works whose malleable

inclusion indicates the insidious nature of nationalist rhetoric (in this case, harnessed to anti-Semitism) despite all attempts to avoid it.

100 Brzyski, “Between the Nation and the World,” 176.

101 For an elaboration of this point, see Brzyski, “The Problem of Modernism.”

102 Brzyski, “Between the Nation and the World,” 177.

52 symbolism and ambiguous iconography could be read as both Polish and distinctly modern.

Yet, when Przybyszewski took over Life, he eschewed the nationalist debate completely, rejecting any attempts toward a reconciliation of nationalism and modernism.

Chimera’s Przesmycki echoed this approach, and both writers not only refused to justify the identity of a distinctly “Polish” art but also denied such a category altogether, since art for them was absolute. For these writers, nationalism was a political and social concern and, as such, simply did not belong within the realm of art or literature. For the two editors, art could serve nothing but itself. This concept was innovative and revolutionary precisely because nationalism was such a powerful and dominant presence in Polish society, pervading almost every aspect of Polish culture – its art, music, literature, and theater. As the following chapters show, the two editors refuted the premise of a national art not because they were unpatriotic but because they believed that

“true” art – that is, the art promoted by these editors – transcended nationalism.

However, their insistence that true art is inherently a-national, or supra-national, is not entirely unproblematic. In fact, both journals routinely featured and emphasized

Polish artists’ works, though specifically those modern in both style and subject matter.

Indeed, Polish artists’ predominance within the pages of both journals, which also featured the works of foreign modern “masters,” points to the editors’ convictions that

Polish art had earned a place within the modernist canon.103 After all, the readers of

103 As Brzyski argues, this idea was implicitly articulated by the Polish artists’ group “Sztuka” and leading modernist art critics and intellectuals in Poland during the fin-de-siècle. See Brzyski, “Constructing the Canon,” “What’s in a Name?”, and “The Problem of Modernism.”

53 these journals were Poles, and the editors repeatedly and implicitly reminded them that

Polish art was as legitimate, as “great,” and as modern as its foreign counterparts.

A Tale of Two Cities

While both Life and Chimera promoted art for art’s sake, they did so in two very different cultural climates. Life originated in Austrian-controlled Krakow, and Chimera was based in Russian-controlled Warsaw.104 As inhabitants of the Austrian Empire,

Poles in Krakow experienced relative freedom, largely resulting from an 1869 statute that gave the city virtual autonomy, compared to the political restrictions and censorship of the more autocratic Prussian and Russian empires.105 This autonomy as well as the transition of Krakow’s School of Fine Arts into a full-fledged academy in 1900 contributed to the development of an artistic and literary bohemia and a revitalization of the arts. The members of Young Poland, concerned that art had become increasingly

conservative and stagnant in both subject matter and technique, enthusiastically

welcomed both this revitalization and Krakow’s new academy.

104 This section focuses primarily on the cultural and artistic climate of the two cities. However, the cities were also marked by distinct political and economic conditions. Despite the import placed upon Krakow as the birth of the Young Poland movement, the city was significantly more provincial than Warsaw, whose culture burgeoned during the turn of the century. In his study of Chimera, for example, Bąbiak argues for Warsaw’s rightful claim as the intellectual capital of Poland. See Bąbiak, Metropolia, chapter 1. See also Theodore R. Weeks, “A City of Three Nations: Fin-de-siècle Warsaw,” The Polish Review 49, no. 2 (2004): 747-766. On Krakow, see Jacek Purchla, Cracow in the European Core (Cracow: International Cultural Centre, 2000) and Lawrence D. Orton, “The Formation of Modern Kraków (1866-1914),” Austrian History Yearbook 19-20, pt. 1 (1983-1984): 105-117.

105 According to historian Jacek Purchla, Krakow also served as the “spiritual capital” of Poland: “The people of Cracow immediately grasped how exceptional the situation [of the January Uprising of 1863] was, in contrast to the surge of repressions imposed on the Russian partitioned zone and the resultant grief and despair in the aftermath of the suppressed uprising, and the rampant Germanization afflicting the Prussian zone. The city of Cracow rapidly adopted the role of spiritual capital for the entire nation, bringing together all the Polish people.” Purchla, 126.

Before its transition into an academy and during the second half of the nineteenth century, the School of Fine Arts in Krakow (established in 1745) remained under the shadow of Jan Matejko, until his death in 1893. However, in 1895, Julian Fałat, a landscape painter and member of Young Poland (which had yet to be christened as such), was named director of the school, and he instituted several reforms. Fałat succeeded in turning the School of Fine Arts into the Academy of Fine Arts, the first such art academy in Poland. Furthermore, he contributed to changes in the academy’s curricula by hiring new faculty, members of Young Poland who had studied in various European academies and ateliers.106 As Jan Cavanaugh reveals, “while no official policy was prescribed

[under Fałat’s new directorship], history painting was greatly deemphasized, sculpture

gained importance, individual creativity was stressed, and subjects such as landscape, still

life, and portraiture were generally preferred.”107 These reforms and the addition of new

curricula, such as the landscape classes of Jan Stanisławski, led to the Academy’s

estimable reputation.108 The reforms also made the Academy a significantly more

amenable place for modernist artists.

The academy’s receptivity toward modernism was echoed in the city itself, and

Krakow’s cultural and artistic milieu shifted dramatically by the turn of the century. The

central part of Krakow comprised the Rynek, or Market Square, where the Sukiennice, or

Cloth Hall, was located. From 1883, the Sukiennice housed Krakow’s major art

museum, the Muzeum Narodowe (National Museum). The founding of the museum was

106 New faculty included Teodor Axentowicz and Leon Wyczółkowski, and, eventually, Jan Stanisławski, Jacek Malczewski, Wojciech Weiss, Stanisław Wyspiański, Józef Mehoffer, and Ferdynand Ruszczyc.

107 Cavanaugh, 57.

108 Krzysztofowicz-Kozakowska, 9.

initiated by the donation of Henryk Siemiradzki’s painting The Torches of Nero (1876),

given to the city by the artist in 1879.109 Opening in 1883, the museum, with its rapidly

growing collection of Polish art that also included donations by Juliusz Kossak and

Tadeusz Ajdukiewicz, was instrumental to the public’s increased awareness about Polish

art of the past and present.110 Also, a few years before the National Museum opened, the

Czartoryski family brought their art collection from Paris to Krakow. The collection

included both Polish and European art, most notably Leonardo da Vinci’s Lady with an

Ermine, and, from 1878, was publicly accessible in the building now called the

Czartoryski Museum.

In addition to housing the National Museum, the Sukiennice included, from 1879 to 1901, exhibition space for Krakow’s Society of Friends of the Fine Arts, or

Towarzystwo Przyjaciół Sztuk Pięknych (hereby referred to as the TPSP). A privately funded association founded in 1854, the TPSP sought to promote Polish art in Krakow through exhibitions and financial assistance to artists. In 1901, the TPSP acquired a building, the Palace of Art (Pałac Sztuki), a short distance from the Rynek. There it held regular exhibitions of Polish art, including exhibitions of the Young Poland artists’ group

“Sztuka” (or “Art”).

Like the National Museum, however, the TPSP tended to exhibit artists who focused on “traditional” subject matter (historical and/or patriotic). Elizabeth Clegg argues that “[the TPSP’s] assiduous courting of potential benefactors, above all among

109 The painting still hangs in the Sukiennice, which now houses the National Museum’s Gallery of Nineteenth Century Polish Art. The subject of the painting is derived from the Annuals of Tacitus, book XV, 44, in which Nero accuses the Christians of having set fire to Rome, thereby sentencing them to death.

110 Clegg, Art, Design and Architecture, 43. In Warsaw, a museum of fine arts had been established earlier – in1862; however it only became a National Museum in 1916.

the wealthier Cracow bourgeoisie had incurred the need to cater to the largely

conservative and unadventurous tastes of this constituency.”111 However, Brzyski

recently remarked that the art at the TPSP, which functioned as a Kunstverein, did not

necessarily reveal a preference on the part of the society. She points out that the TPSP,

as “a society of art lovers . . . was dedicated to democratic access both by artists and the public. It did not discriminate or promote any particular trends nor did it engage in the

production of theoretical statements that dealt with the issue of quality or

significance.”112

Polish collectors tended to prefer local art, and the TPSP served as one of the few

venues where collectors could buy and view Polish contemporary art. For a period,

therefore, the TPSP dominated the promotion of both living and past artists, and, by

1883, the organization boasted over nine thousand members. It also led to the creation of

similar organizations in Warsaw, Poznań, and Lwów. In Warsaw, the Society for the

Encouragement of Fine Arts (TZSP – Towarzystwo Zachęty Sztuk Pięknych) was

established in 1860 (and lasted until 1939), and, in 1866 and 1880, affiliate TPSPs were established in Lwów and Poznań, respectively. However, due to collectors’ interests,

both the TPSP and the Warsaw TZSP tended to promote art that reinforced academic

standards of smooth finish and historical subject matter, sometimes ignoring altogether

the new Western modernist trends filtering into Young Poland.113

111 Ibid., 73

112 Brzyski, “What’s in a Name?” n27

113 Some of this had to do with the founders, such as the painter Wojciech Gerson, who had little use of Young Poland’s experimentation in both form and subject matter.

The hegemony of the TPSP was challenged in 1897 with the founding of a new

artistic association, the Society of Polish Artists “Art” (Towarzystwo Artystów Polskich

“Sztuka”), simply referred to as “Sztuka.” “Sztuka” consisted of the most significant

members of Young Poland. According to Cavanaugh, “‘Sztuka’ was formed in protest

against the lowering of standards and commercialization of the official art associations,”

especially the TPSP.114 Among the criticisms that “Sztuka” directed toward the TPSP

was the latter’s support of mediocre work and “its jury selections, which were based on

subject, a practice that often favored sentimental, anecdotal or historical themes.”115

However, in a recent essay, Brzyski takes issue with the characterization that Sztuka was founded in opposition to artistic stagnation. Instead, its establishment “should be viewed as part and parcel of the modernist artists’ collective effort to consolidate their position within Krakow, the extended Polish speaking artworld, and in the region of Central

Europe.”116 She convincingly argues that the founders of Sztuka were largely motivated

by practical concerns about greater visibility and, thereby, potential marketability.117

The members of “Sztuka” elected Warsaw-based artist Józef Chełmoński as their first president, but he was shortly replaced by Stanisławski, after objection by the

Russians of Chełmoński’s leadership within an Austrian-based organization. Inspired partly by the Viennese Secession, seventeen artists exhibited sixty-seven works in the

114 Cavanaugh, 61

115 Ibid.

116 Brzyski, “What’s in a Name,” online. The essay is a significant revision of Sztuka’s aims, highlighting a number of “myths and realities” about its establishment and ideological goals.

117 Ibid.

Sukiennice in May 1897.118 Although the “Sztuka” association was completely

independent of the TPSP, its members never formed their own exhibition space and,

therefore, utilized TPSP’s venues when exhibiting in Krakow.

Krakow, in fact, boasted few public galleries – certainly nothing compared to

Paris or London – and for a period, between 1908 and 1912, lacked any commercial

galleries. In January 1895, the art collector Henryk Frist opened his private gallery,

Salon Frist, selling works by Matejko, Tetmajer, and Juliusz and Wojciech Kossak, among others. In 1904, the writer Zygmunt Sarnecki opened his gallery, the Salon Ars, promoting both new and old Polish art.

Noting the relative lack of contemporary, commercial gallery spaces, Clegg argues, “It is no coincidence that this period also saw a sharp rise in the number of

Cracow-trained Polish artists choosing to become long-term residents of Paris, or making frequent and/or prolonged visits there.”119 Furthermore, both the cost and difficulty of transporting works from abroad, even from neighboring countries, dictated that most exhibitions of foreign works consisted of prints, thus providing the public only a cursory idea of new directions in art. Therefore, travel to see original Western European paintings and sculptures served an important role in artistic education. Such travel led to a more inclusive international modernism within Poland because, upon returning from their travels, artists incorporated their formal and informal training and experiences.

118 The artists included Alexander Augustynowicz, Teodor Axentowicz, Józef Chełmoński, Stanisław Dębicki, Julian Fałat, Antoni Kurzawa, Juliusz Makarewicz, Jacek Malczewski, Stanisław Masłowski, Józef Mehoffer, Józef Pankiewicz, Kazimierz Pochwalski, Jan Stanisławski, Wacław Szymanowski, Włodzimierz Tetmajer, Leon Wyczółkowski, and Stanisław Wyspiański. According to Bryzski, the May show predated the official October formation of the group, and she indicates that only eight of the members who participated in the May exhibition served as founding members of “Sztuka.” See Brzyski, “What’s in a Name?”

119 Clegg, Art, Design and Architecture, 168.

Writers and critics who traveled and served as foreign correspondents to various

Polish newspapers and journals also added to Poland’s understanding (often selective) of

foreign art and culture. In Krakow, for example, “the influx of Western influences led

the intelligentsia to adopt a bohemian or ‘decadent’ life style in the Parisian manner.”120

Among the instances of this new “life style” was the opening in 1905 of the Zielony

Balonik or Little Green Balloon, a cabaret frequented by bohemian artists and writers and modeled on such French cabarets as the Chat Noir.121 According to Clegg, “It was . . .

the perceived contrast between Paris and the painfully provincial centres of art life in

Galicia that spurred the first concerted attempts at an aesthetic radicalization in

Cracow.”122

Compared to Krakow, Warsaw’s art world fared little better, and the number of

commercial and private galleries was small. These included the Salon Artystyczny (est.

1888), Stefan Kulikowski’s Salon Sztuki (est. 1904-1944), Władysław Wołowski’s Salon

(est. 1906),123 and Feliks Ruchling’s Salon Artystyczny (est. 1912). The most important

gallery space for the members of Young Poland was also located in Warsaw. Established

by collector and dealer Aleksander Krywult in 1880, the Krywult Salon served as the sole

private venue actively promoting and selling contemporary art, a move that later Polish

salons and galleries followed. Krywult held regular exhibitions of young artists’ works, including those rejected by the Warsaw TZSP, which, according to art historian Ewa

120 Cavanaugh, 44.

121 See the chapter “Cracow: Little Green Balloons” in Harold B. Segel, Turn-of-the-Century Cabaret (New York: Columbia University Press, 1987).

122 Clegg, Art, Design and Architecture, 168.

123 Wołowski managed the salon until his death in 1912, when the new owner changed the name of the salon to Sztuka (Art).

Bobrowska-Jakubowska, “thereby quickly gained [Krywult] the reputation as a defender

of new trends in art, and his gallery became something of a Polish Salon de Refusés,”124 an image which he undoubtedly cultivated.

Krywult also exhibited foreign art, and these exhibitions exposed both artists and audiences to new directions of European art. In 1898, for example, an exhibition of

French artists that included Ernest Meissonier and Édouard Bisson was held. In 1901,

Krywult launched an exhibition of French graphic art by such artists as Eugène Carrière,

Henri Fantin-Latour, Gustave Moreau, and Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec; while in 1903 the salon exhibited the graphic works of Odilon Redon and Felicien Rops.125 That same

year, the salon held an exhibition of French painting, including works by Gustave

Courbet, Jean-Baptise-Camille Corot, and Charles-Francois Daubigny. In addition to

these French exhibitions, works by foreign artists such as Vassily Kandinsky, James

McNeill Whistler, Anders Zorn, and Max Klinger appeared at the salon.

Above all, Polish galleries and exhibition venues exhibited foreign art and artists

that had acquired significant international reputations or whose “historical legitimacy,” to

borrow Robert Jensen’s terminology, had been established.126 Like Krywult’s salon, the

TZSP also offered exhibitions of foreign art. An exhibition of graphic art in 1904

featured works by Toulouse-Lautrec, Whistler, Carrière, Redon, Fantin-Latour, and other

artists. An exhibition dedicated to paintings by Belgian artists that included Fernand

124 “W ten sposób szybko zyskał reputację obrońcy nowych trendów w sztuce, a jego galeria stała się czymś w rodzaju polskiego Salonu Odrzuconych.” Ewa Bobrowska-Jakubowska, Artyści Polscy we Francji w Latach 1890-1918: Wspólnoty i Indywidualności (Warszawa: Wydawnictwo DiG, 2004), 29.

125 Though Rops was Belgian, he, like many Belgian artists and writers, was more closely aligned with the Parisian art world.

126 See Jensen, 3.

Khnopff, Jules Bastien, and Henry Cassiers was held in 1907. Several years later, in

1911, an exhibition of French artists’ works, including those of Pierre Bonnard, Camille

Pissarro, Maurice Denis, and Claude Monet, among many others, opened.127 Yet, as

Brzyski notes, unlike in Western Europe, “where dealers functioned within a well- developed commercial system and were actively involved in creating a demand for the work by artists they represented, [Polish] galleries played a relatively minor role in promoting Polish modernism.”128 Therefore, the role was taken up by independent

exhibiting societies like “Sztuka,” individual artists and writers, and, most significantly

for this study, artistic and literary journals.

The Role of Journals

The press played an instrumental role in Polish life and culture, especially as the

population became increasingly literate, and the number of periodicals and newspapers

increased dramatically throughout the nineteenth century. In the Russian partition of

Poland, for example, only about 20 periodicals were published in 1864. By 1885, there

were 80, and by 1904, 140. The majority of these periodicals were centered in Warsaw,

which produced most of the press in Russian-controlled Poland.129 In 1885,

approximately 71 periodicals in Warsaw were published, while in 1904 there were

127 For full list of artists shown at these exhibitions, see Janina Wiercińska, Katalog prac wystawionych w Towarzystwie Zachęty Sztuk Pięknych w Warszawie w latach 1860-1914 (Wrocław: Zakład Narodowy im. Ossolińskich, 1969). This study also provides a list of all works shown by Polish artists at the TZSP between 1860 and 1914.

128 Brzyski, “Constructing the Canon,” online.

129 Zenon Kmiecik, “Prasa Polska w Królestwie Polskim i Imperium Rosyjskim w latach 1865-1904” in Prasa Polska w latach 1864-1918, ed. Teresa Stępień (Warszawa: Państwowe Wydawnictwo Naukowe, 1976), 13. Not all periodicals were long lasting, with a number folding within a year.

111.130 In the Austrian partition of Poland, the numbers were even higher. In 1860, for example, approximately 159 Polish periodicals were published within the Austrian

Empire (including Galicia), the majority of which were in Krakow (75) and Lwów (68).

The number of periodicals within Galicia decreased in 1881,131 with a total of 107

periodicals, 74 of which were Polish. By 1900, there were 234 periodicals in Galicia

(179 Polish) and by 1910, there were 392 (312 Polish).132 Only a small number of these

journals, however, dedicated themselves to art and literature, and journals focusing solely

upon the visual arts were not launched until the twentieth century.

Before Przybyszewski took over the editorship of Life, changing its format from a

general interest periodical to one concerned solely with fine art and literature, no comparable journal existed in Poland. However, even before Life’s establishment, the

arts and literature did receive a prominent place in a number of Polish publications, and

the most significant during the Young Poland period (approximately 1890 to 1914)

included The Illustrated Weekly (Tygodnik Illustrowany, 1859-1939), Ateneum (1876-

1901), The Wanderer (Wędrowiec, 1863-1906), The Warsaw Library (Biblioteka

Warszawska, 1841-1914), and Life (Życie, 1887-1891) in Warsaw; and Krytyka (1896-

1914) and The World (Świat, 1888-1895) in Krakow. However, these periodicals

emphasized art and literature while also covering political, social, and cultural news.

130 Zenon Kmiecik, Prasa Warszawska w latach 1886-1904 (Wrocław: Zakład Narodowy im. Ossolińskich, 1989), 10.

131 This may have to do with the wave of emigration from Galicia beginning in the 1880s.

132 Jerzy Myśliński, “Prasa polska w Galicji w dobie autonomicznej (1867-1918)” in Stepień, ed., 119-120. By 1901, the Galician press comprised 8.01% of the Austrian press and, ten years later, 10.16%. Galicia was ethnically and linguistically diverse, and therefore, a number of Polish, Ukrainian, German, Russian, and Hebrew language journals were included within the total number. For a complete breakdown, see Myśliński.

Przybyszewski’s goal for Life was to strip it of its socio-political content, transforming

the journal into one comparable to artistic-literary periodicals in Western Europe,

especially the Czech journal Moderni Revue (1895-1925). However, it was Przesmycki’s

Chimera that took Przybyszewski’s format to greater heights and, in its exacting artistic

and literary standards, was on par with the most respected modernist European little

magazines.

One of the great contributions of both journals was their focus on high quality

graphic art – a feature readily apparent in Life under the artistic directorship of Stanisław

Wyspiański, appointed by Przybyszewski, and realized more strongly in Chimera. In fact, this increased focus coincided with Young Poland’s realization of the full potential of the graphic arts. Young Poland fully participated in the fin-de-siècle revival of reclaiming prints to the status of “high” rather than merely “commercial” art. In 1897, the same year in which Life began publication, Józef Pankiewicz, influenced by landscape prints by Corot and the French realists, began depicting the Polesie region in drypoint etching, a medium that underwent its own revival in nineteenth-century

Europe.133 Also that year, Wyspiański exhibited throughout Poland a series of drawings

illustrating Homer’s Iliad, several of which were also reproduced in Life.

After the demise of Life and shortly before the creation of Chimera, Polish art

venues staged several important exhibitions of foreign graphic art. The Krywult Salon

was among the forerunners, with exhibitions in 1900 of etchings by Max Klinger;

etchings and lithographs by Rops, Whistler, Zorn, and Max Liebermann; and Japanese

woodcuts from the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. In 1901, the salon held two

133 Kossowska, Narodziny Polskiej grafiki, 18.

different exhibitions of French graphic art (in May and June), displayed 170 illustrations

from the Munich journal Die Jugend, and exhibited etchings by Klinger and fifty color

lithographs by artists from Karlsruhe. In 1903, the salon exhibited etchings by Goya,

Rops, and Redon, and graphic works by Edvard Munch.

The TPSP and TZSP also staged major graphic art exhibitions. The Lwów TPSP

branch, for example, organized an exhibition of graphic art and posters in 1900. In

February 1901, the Warsaw TZSP hosted a much-maligned exhibition of Japanese

woodcuts from collection of Feliks Jasieński.134 The following year, Jasieński exhibited

six hundred Japanese woodcuts from his collection at the National Museum in Krakow.

Finally, in 1902 the Association of Polish Graphic Artists (Stowarzyszenie Artystów

Grafików Polskich), based in Krakow, was created, due largely to Jasieński’s efforts.

The turn of the century, therefore, witnessed a surge of exhibitions in Polish and

foreign graphic art. According to art historian Irena Kossowska, “these [exhibitions]

were not incidental events, but rather part of a carefully planned strategy propagating the

graphic revival.”135 The efforts to promote graphic art in Life and Chimera played an

important role since the journals were tangible, longstanding objects rather than

ephemeral events. With their reproductions of both Polish and European prints and

drawings, the two journals contributed greatly to the increased status and awareness of

graphic art. Several of the most esteemed members of Young Poland – Mehoffer,

Stanisławski, Wyspiański, and Okuń – played instrumental roles in these journals,

134The Polish public seemed unprepared to appreciate such unfamiliar art. The letters and reviews of the show were so scathing that Jasieński resorted to posting signs at the exhibition, such as “Not for pigs” and “Chinese tea and Japanese art are two different things.” Stefania Kozakowska, Manggha: Wystawa kolekcji Feliksa Mangghi Jasieńskiego (Muzeum Narodowe w Krakowie, 1989), 16.

135 Kossowska, Narodziny Polskiej grafiki, 280.

contributing images for covers, inserts, and vignettes. Graphic works by European artists

whose works were virtually unknown in Poland – artists such as Munch, Rops, Walter

Crane, and Félix Vallotton – were reproduced and praised on the pages of Life and

Chimera. Though the editors sought to elevate the status of the graphic arts and increase

readers’ knowledge about and appreciation for modern foreign art, the journals were,

above all, organs of Young Poland.

Modernism and Young Poland

According to historian R.F. Leslie, “Many territories in the period of imperialism

were occupied by European powers . . . What makes Poland exceptional is the fact that

the Poles had a developed literature and recorded history of their own.”136 To this

development we must also add art, which played an important role in national identity

within all three partitions. As art historian Éva Forgács posits, “The Central European

artist was laden with heavy burdens unfamiliar to the Western artist. He had to represent

his oppressed nation’s cause in a political situation where the mere use of the national

language or a national idiom in art was a bold gesture signaling the re-claiming of

nationhood.”137 In the 1870s and 1880s, Polish positivism reinforced the expectation that

art either directly or indirectly should consist of national subject matter to uplift and edify

the viewing public.138 Artists often adopted symbols and metaphors since open political

collusion about the Polish cause was either discouraged or prohibited altogether.

136 Leslie, “Triloyalism and the national revival,” 2.

137 Éva Forgács, “National Traditions” in Between Worlds: A Sourcebook of Central European Avant- Gardes, 1910-1930, eds. Timothy O. Benson and Éva Forgács (Cambridge and London: The MIT Press, 2002), 47.

138 See Brzyski, “Between the Nation and the World.”

Whether depicting landscape, portraiture or history painting, artists were expected to

keep the plight of the nation first, whether implicitly or explicitly.

Polish artists of the nineteenth century took this call seriously and produced

paintings that exuded a profound longing and pride. Romanticism, in particular, was an

influential force, with its emphasis on emotion and dynamism. Among the Romantic

artists, Jan Matejko, long considered among the greatest Polish painters, executed large,

dramatic canvases of the Polish past (Figure 1). Painting during the ascendancy of the

positivists in the second half of the nineteenth century, Matejko strove to infuse his

canvases with a Romantic drama and force. For him, history paintings were the only

genre worth executing. The artists of Young Poland, on the other hand, sought to

overcome historicism by participating fully in modernism.

No cohesive style existed among the members of Young Poland, which is why the

movement’s purported affiliations with Art Nouveau is somewhat misleading. For

example, the recent abridged translation of Stefania Krzysztofowicz-Kozakowska’s book

Sztuka Młodej Polski (The Art of Young Poland) is (mis)titled Polish Art Nouveau.139

Although the style undoubtedly influenced many of the artists associated with Young

Poland, Art Nouveau (itself a conflation of styles) was only one of the many disparate regional and national approaches to art that Young Poland artists adopted.

Though lacking a cohesive style, Young Poland artists shared a desire to experiment with form and subject matter and distance themselves from didacticism.

Furthermore, they sought to reconcile their artistic modernity with their national

139 Stefania Krzysztofowicz-Kozakowska, Polish Art Nouveau, trans. Krzysztof Kwasniewicz (Kraków: Wydawnictwo Kluszczyński, 1999). Part of the tendency to misattribute Young Poland with Art Nouveau has to do with the label “Young,” which was associated with both Art Nouveau (“young” and “new” being closely aligned) and its foreign variations, such as Jugendstil or Modernismo.

67 consciousness (as members of an imagined community) to create art they perceived as both truly modern and inherently Polish; that is, both national and international. Yet,

Young Poland’s move toward international modernism was particularly contentious because of Poland’s concern with establishing its unique identity.

Young Poland developed out of several traditions, and perhaps the most influential was Naturalism. The so-called Polish “Naturalists,” artists focusing upon landscape and nature, were among the first who broke with the moralizing tradition and paid increasing attention to formal elements: color, light, and shape. Among its members, Józef Chełmoński, a future founding member of “Sztuka,” was the most outstanding because of his experimentation with color and light, which he blended to create often impressionistic effects. Chełmoński was especially recognized for his paintings of rural landscapes and peasant life. Yet, as Cavanaugh points out, “although the subject matter of [Chełmoński’s] sensitively rendered images of peasants was wholly in line with the national art, these works were vehemently attacked in the press for their

‘crudity’ and lack of academic execution.”140 She cites a review of Chełmoński’s painting Indian Summer (1875), exhibited at Warsaw’s TZSP, about which the reviewer noted:

The painting is indistinct, without strength and without color. In the perspective of the distant background and in the general form of the picture, there is no more truth than in the rendering of that seated cowherd, upon whom it is not worthwhile to dwell longer. This is not painting but smearing, which in the present picture is not even graced by the usual expressiveness that is one of the artist’s best qualities.141

140 Cavanaugh, 23.

141 In Gazeta Polska, no. 50 (1875), quoted in ibid., 23-24.

For the critic, this “smearing” of the paint, an impressionistic and often indistinct

painterly approach that increased the atmospheric effects of Chełmoński’s work,

eliminated the painting’s “truthful” quality, only registered through immediate legibility

or linear precision.142

However, Naturalism had its staunch supporters, the most vocal and articulate

being Stanisław Witkiewicz, who valued attention to form above subject matter.

Witkiewicz argued that a critic’s role is to evaluate the artist’s ability to portray his

subject, maintaining that “the excellence of the work was measured not by the importance

which the society attributed to the work’s subject, but rather by the artist’s technical

proficiency and originality of vision.”143 He also called for expressiveness in art, thus

paving the way for critics like Przybyszewski and Przesmycki, both taking his call for

expressiveness and formal innovations a step further.144 Furthermore, Witkiewicz

“embraced international modernism, believing that the native tradition would retain its vitality only so long as it was able to engage in cultural commerce with the rest of

Europe,”145 a sentiment later reprised in Life and in Chimera.

As modernist art gained critical attention, patronage of the “new art” also rose.

The growth of private and commercial galleries at the turn of the century introduced more collectors to and precipitated the sale of contemporary Polish art. In comparison to

142 For a discussion of the critical reception of Chełmoński’s painting technique in Poland, see Anna Brzyski, “Foreign or Native: Perception and Reception of Impressionism in Polish Art Criticism, 1876- 1893,” Centropa 8, no. 1 (2008): 67-85.

143 Brzyski, “Modern Art and Nationalism in Fin de Siècle Poland,” 62.

144 For Witkiewicz’s role in Polish art criticism see Maria Olszaniecka, Dziwny człowiek: O Stanisławie Witkiewiczu (Kraków: Wydawnictwo Literackie, 1984).

145 Cavanaugh, 27.

France or Germany, the number of collectors was still quite small. Polish art collectors

consisted primarily of the middle class intelligentsia – ranging in profession from medical

doctors to engineers to attorneys – who paid relatively low prices for artworks. Wealthy

Polish collectors (such as the Czartoryski family) were inclined to pay high prices only

for established artists, rather then patronizing the younger artists whose style was

considered radical compared to the status quo. The least likely to buy art was the

aristocracy, “being content with their personal, inherited galleries.”146

Significant collectors of this period included the surgeon Leon Rutkowski and

historian Karol Potkański, both professors at Jagiellonian University, and Warsaw

lawyers Leon Papieski, Artur Bardzki, and Jakub Glass. Papieski and Bardzki, both who

purchased works primarily from TZSP exhibitions, shared a similar taste in artists,

collecting the works of Juliusz Kossak, the Gierymski brothers, Matejko, Teodor

Axentowicz, Wyczółkowski, Władysław Podkowiński, Jacek Malczewski, Stanisławski,

and Mehoffer – a combination of modern and older artists. Jakub Glass’s collection,

offered to the National Museum in Warsaw after his death, included paintings by

Wyspiański, Władysław Ślewiński, Stanisławski, Witold Wojtkiewicz, Gerson,

Mehoffer, and Pankiewicz and sculptures by Xawery Dunikowski, and Bolesław

Biegas.147

Working professionals as well as writers and visual artists also purchased art by

past and contemporary Polish artists. The painter Henryk Piątkowski’s collection comprised over one hundred works, including paintings and drawings by Matejko,

146 “poprzestając na własnych, odziedziczonych galeriach.” Janina Wiercińska, “Charakterystyka Rynku” in Wojciechowski, ed., 204.

147 Ibid., 205.

Siemiradzki, Artur Grottger, Pankiewicz, Olga Boznańska, Malczewski, Stanisławski,

Wojciech Weiss, and Wyczółkowski. The writer Gabriela Zapolska remains noteworthy

not only for her collection of Polish art but also for her collection of foreign art. Between

1894 and 1900, she amassed a respectable collection of primarily French art, including

works by such modern artists as Paul Gauguin, Vincent Van Gogh, Pissarro, Georges

Seurat, Paul Ranson, Georges Lacombe, and Paul Sérusier. Her works by Young Poland artists included Boznańska and Pankiewicz.148 Among foreign collectors of Young

Poland art was the Czech modernist writer Jiři Karasek (a friend of Przybyszewski), who collected the paintings and drawings of Malczewski, Weiss, Wyspiański, Matejko,

Grottger, Wyczółkowski, and many others.149

Arguably, the most important collector of Young Poland was Feliks Jasieński.

Jasieński adopted the nickname “Manggha” because of his large collection of Japanese

art, including a large collection of Japanese prints, discovered during his trips to Paris.150

Jasieński collected the works of Fałat, Pankiewicz, Podkowiński, Weiss, Wyspiański,

Stanisław Dębicki, Stanisławski, Wyczółkowski, and Malczewski, among others.151 His frequent appearance as the subject of Polish paintings attests to how instrumental his patronage was for Young Poland. Boznańska, Malczewski, Pankiewicz, Podkowiński,

Wyczółkowski, and several other artists depicted him. In addition to patronizing Young

148 Her collection has since been scattered. Ibid.

149 See Part VI, “Kolekcjonerstwo i handel dziełami sztuki” in Wojciechowski, ed. for information about other collectors.

150 See Ewa Miodońska-Brookes and Maria Cieśla-Korytowska, Feliks Jasieński i jego Manggha (Kraków: Universitas, 1992) and Janina Wiercińska, “Feliks Jasieński (Manggha) jako działacz artystyczny i kolekcjoner” in Wojciechowski, ed., 212-214.

151 This included Podkowiński’s most famous work, Ecstasy, which he purchased in 1901. Jasieński was also one of the organizers of the posthumous exhibition of Podkowiński’s works in 1895.

Poland artists, Jasieński was one of the most important collectors of European graphic art

in Poland, buying prints throughout his travels in Europe and then exhibiting them in

Krakow and Warsaw.152

In 1901, his book Manggha, Promenades à travers le monde, l’art et les idées,

which discusses the various new tendencies and movements in art, was published in

Warsaw and Paris. The book’s publication in French, rather than Polish, points to the significance of France as a cultural marker of modernism to members of Young Poland.

Jasieński greatly admired the Goncourt brothers, and the diaristic account of his travels was no doubt inspired by their examples. Jasieński also published essays on art and music in Chimera, and it was in the Warsaw journal that Jasieński began writing serious art criticism. In 1901, he also helped organize Chimera’s exhibitions, held in the journal’s Warsaw headquarters, which included works primarily from Jasieński’s personal collection.

In an essay written for Chimera, Przesmycki bemoaned that “Warsaw has neither refined taste, nor [does it hold] a deeper sensitivity for beauty.”153 Yet, he also

acknowledged that the tide was starting to change due to an increase in artistic talent and

quality exhibitions:

152 The artists included in his collection of graphic art were Crane, Denis, Bonnard, Gauguin, Munch, Klinger, Whistler, Rops, Renoir, Pierre Puvis de Chavannes, Redon, Paul Signac, Toulouse-Lautrec and Vallotton. For longer list, see Kossowska, Narodziny Polskiej grafiki, 20. See also Grafika francuska: Teki A. Vollarda ze zbiorów Feliksa Jasieńskiego, exh. cat. (Muzeum Narodowe w Krakowie, 1971). Jasieński donated his entire collection to Krakow’s National Museum of Art, which, in 1994, opened the Manggha Centre of Japanese Art and Technology, a museum housing his large collection of Japanese art. For the scope and quality of the donated collection, see Stefania Kozakowska and Barbara Małkiewicz, eds., Manggha: Wystawa kolekcji Feliksa Mangghi Jasieńskiego, (Muzeum Narodowe w Krakowie, 1989).

153 “Warszawa nie ma ani wyrobionego smaku szlachtnego, ani głębszej wrażliwości na piękno.” Z.P., “Teatr: Reforma teatrów warszawskich,” C 2, 6 (1901): 503.

In the plastic arts – after a long slumber that resembled death, which caused the better artists to flee Warsaw or work in isolation – there begins the wake of a promising movement: several beautiful exhibitions familiarize the public with the works of essential foreign masters and with all the branches of art unknown to and forgotten by us (Japanese, etching, lithographs); there emerge reading rooms of periodicals dedicated to art that allow for constant observation of artistic trends.154

This brief statement is important because it also reflects one of the core values of Young

Poland: to produce a truly modern art, the artist must maintain contact with foreign art and movements, taking part in a larger international community rather than provincially isolating himself. For a country of few collectors of foreign contemporary art, periodicals became instrumental for disseminating ideas and images. This was among the central roles of Life, to whose artistic and editorial program the following chapter turns.

154 “W dziedzinie sztuk plastycznych – po długiej, martwotę przypominającej drzemce, skutkiem której wszyscy lepsi artyści pierzchali z Warszawy lub wyosobniali się w niej samotniczo – ruch poczyna się budzić obiecujący: szereg pięknych wystaw zaznajamia publiczność z dziełami istotnych mistrzów obcych, oraz z całemi nieznanemi lub zapomnianemi u nas odłamami sztuki (japońszczyzną, akwafortą, litografią); powstają czytelnie czasopism poświęconych sztuce, pozwalające stale obserwować ruch artystyczny.” Ibid., 504.

Chapter 2

Life’s Editorial Directions: Crafting a Modernist Journal

Introduction

By the 1890s, a number of journals, such as Warsaw’s Illustrated Weekly and

Ateneum, featured articles about and reproduced works by Young Poland artists and

writers. However, Poland still lacked a periodical comparable to the Berlin Pan or the

Paris Mercure de France, which were dedicated almost exclusively to modern art and literature. Life was published for less than three years, and, although brief in duration and

under the control of several different editors, from the outset the Krakow journal

championed artistic internationalism. That is, the editors advocated Polish artistic

participation within the European artworld while also promoting the works of foreign

artists and writers. This is readily apparent from the variety of nationalities of authors and

artists – including French, Norwegian, German, Austrian, Danish, Swedish, Danish,

Czech, Italian, American, British, Belgian, Russian, Cuban, Chinese, Swiss, Spanish, and

Irish – presented in the periodical. In the sum of its issues, approximately thirty percent

of the writers and thirty-two percent of the artists published in Life were foreign.155

Yet, despite the number of foreign names, Life was truly an organ for Young

Poland artists and writers, whose works outnumbered their foreign counterparts in its pages, pointing to the editors’ attempts to firmly inscribe Polish art within international

155 These percentages are only estimates since numerous writers assumed multiple pseudonyms and, thereby, may have been inadvertently counted twice in my calculations. In total, the poetry and prose (including both fiction and essays but excluding letters to the editor, anonymous commentary, book reviews, and letters from abroad) of approximately 245 writers and the works of approximately 62 artists appeared in Life. Numerous of these artists and writers were represented by multiple works. See the appendix of this dissertation for specific names.

modernism. However, it was not until Stanisław Przybyszewski took over the editorship

of the journal that Life distinguished itself among other Polish illustrated periodicals by

concentrating solely upon art and literature and advancing art for art’s sake.

Nevertheless, several important contributions to Polish and international modernism,

most notably Szczepański’s programmatic essays and Górski’s serialized essay about

Young Poland, transpired in the pages of Life before Przybyszewski instituted his

editorial reforms.

The Changing Editorial Voices of Life

Szczepański

In the span of a little over a year, Life’s editorship and direction changed three

times. Ludwik Szczepański, both the founder and the first editor of the journal, bore the

costs of Life from its genesis in September 1897 until May 1898.156 A young Polish

aspiring writer living in Vienna, he sought to fill what he perceived as a lack of

publications in which young, modernist writers could submit and successfully publish

their works.157 Although immersed in the culture of Jung-Wien, in mid-1897 Szczepański

moved to Krakow to begin Life’s publication, seeking to model his journal after the

Viennese Die Zeit and such Polish weeklies as The Weekly Review (Przegląd

Tygodniowy) and The Country (Kraj), which focused upon culture, politics, and society.

156 Before creating Life, Szczepański with Józef Jasieński and Stanisław Wyrzykowski attempted to create another journal called Wiosna (Spring), which never materialized.

157 Szczepański lived in Vienna since he was seven years old; there he attended both gymnasium and college. While in Vienna, Szczepański interest in contemporary art and literature grew, and he befriended influential figures of Young Vienna such as Herman Bahr, editor of Die Zeit. See Obrączka, “Literatura Niemiecka w krakowskim ‘Życiu’” in Hendzel and Obrączka, eds., 7.

Initially he envisioned the journal as a solely textual one, but Life ultimately included both text and illustrations. 158

Szczepański enlisted the help of a number of Polish writers, poets, and critics, such as Artur Górski, Władysław Orkan, Antoni Potocki, Adolf Nowaczyński, Kazimierz

Tetmajer, and Gabriela Zapolska, to write articles for the journal, and the inaugural issue

came out in September 1897. Under Szczepański’s leadership, Life covered not only new

art and literature but also economics, culture, and even sports. In addition to polemical

and informative essays and articles about Polish and international society, the journal also

embarked upon political commentary, taking a fairly progressive or leftist view, contrary

to the National Democratic movement rising in Poland. Outspoken support for Émile

Zola’s “J’Accuse” by Parisian correspondent Włodzimierz Bugiel, for example, kept

readers abreast of the Dreyfus Affair.159 Even fictional prose was prone to political commentary, such as Gabriela Zapolska’s story “The Anti-Semite” (“Antysemitnik”), serialized in the journal from 1897 to 1898.160 Although Life’s contributing writers came

158 A letter from Szczepański to Józef Jasieński in June 1896 indicated that plans for the journal were well underway. Szczepański specified that the periodical would be a weekly focused on politics and culture and, like Die Zeit, should provide “sensations” that emotionally moved the reader. Szczepański also elaborated that Life “stands on a Polish and only Polish position,” urging Jasieński to “let us make the weekly a publication that in respect to politics is very national – [that has] a progressive tendency.” [“Tygodnik ‘Życie’ stoi na stanowisku polskim i tylko polskim; zróbmy z tygodnika organ pod względem politycznym bardzo narodowy – tendencja postepowa.”]. In regards to literature, Szczepański emphasized his desire for a modern journal – “a very European and modern literary organ” – with a strong emphasis on art, poetry, and literature. Zyga, ed., “Materiały do genezy,” 202. In another letter of the same month, he further elaborated that he did not want Life to include either a cover or illustrations but to offer instead a quarterly album of illustrations. Ibid., 204.

159 In the last page of the 22 January 1897 issue, a short editorial statement informed readers that the following telegram was sent to the editors of Le Figaro: “Jeunesse littéraire polonaise prie monsieur Zola d’agréer hommage admiration pour courage et nobles sentiments. Revue hebdomadaire ‘Zycie’ Cracovie.” “Kronika,” Z 2, 4 (1898): 46.

160 The story is a fictionalized account of anti-Semitic journalism in Poland, witnessed especially in the Krakow journal The Voice of the Nation (Głos narodu). Jadwiga Czachowska, “‘Życie’ 1897-1900” in Literatura okresu Młodej Polski, vol 1, eds. Kazimierz Wyka, Artur Hutnikiewicz and Mirosława

from disparate political and cultural backgrounds, “the journal waged a battle against

backwardness and hypocrisy, careerism and opportunism.”161

From the beginning, Life represented and participated in pan-European trends in

literature and art. The writer Zenon Parvi, commenting about Life for the Weekly Review,

remarked about “the truly European way of leading the publication . . . [and] well-known

names and real talents among the list of co-workers—this is the way in which the young,

energetic editor [Szczepański] wants to go.”162 Among the “European ways” was the attempt to complement text with illustration. In fact, art historian Janina Wiercińska claims that the Symbolist tendency of “evocation” – in which the illustrations evoke a mood drawn from the accompanying text – was obvious from the first issue of Life.163

I do not entirely agree with Wiercińska’s assertion since the illustrations included

in Life often had little to do with the mood or the content of the text. Instead, and with a

few exceptions, the illustrations tended to serve a decorative role or were reproduced as

stand-alone works. It was not until Chimera was published when such evocation

functioned as a consistent element of the text-image relationship. Nevertheless, the

visually harmonious relationship between text and image on the page was certainly a

deep consideration, especially under the artistic directorship of Wyspiański, as the

following chapter shows.

Puchalska (Warszawa: Państwowe Wydawnictwo Naukowe, 1968), 236. See also Harold B. Segel, “The Jew in Polish and Russian Literatures,” The Sarmatian Review 22, no. 1 (January 2002): 837-845.

161 “[P]ismo podjęło walkę z zacofaniem i obłudą, karierowiczostwem i oportunizmem.” Czachowska, 236.

162 “Prawdziwie europejski sposób prowadzenia pisma . . . głośnych nazwisk, prawdziwych talentów na liście współpracowników – oto droga po jakiej kroczyć zamierza młody rzutny redaktor.” Z. P[arvi], “Listy krakowskie VIII,” Przegląd Tygodniowy no. 39 (1897): 448; cited in Bąbiak, Metropolia i zaścianek, 115.

163 Janina Wiercińska, Sztuka i książka (Warszawa: Państwowe Wydawnictwo Naukowe, 1986), 70.

In the last issue of the first volume, Szczepański laid out the editorial program of

Life, which I quote in its entirety:

Life is addressed to the wider intelligent public: it serves the [following] goals: 1. literary-artistic, 2. social and academic. Life seeks to provide a true and full reflection of life and contemporary intellectual currents in literature and art. – Life serves Polish literature and art, but it also follows the literary and artistic movements abroad (in [various] studies, criticism, letters from European capitals and in the Review of reviews). Life will [publish] original novels and short stories. Poetry, developing so richly and beautifully today, will receive a large amount of space on the pages of Life. – Issues about theater will be meticulously considered in articles and reviews of plays; the music section has competent, knowledgeable critics. Life serves the fine arts, providing reproductions [of paintings, prints and drawings] of primarily Polish outstanding contemporary works of art. Furthermore, in studies and criticism it closely follows the development of our contemporary art, so rich with uncommon talents. Contemporary academic [intellectual rather than artistic] developments, particularly in the areas of current philosophy, sociology and the natural sciences, will be reported in a straightforward manner by the most competent writers.164

This program reflects the relative eclectic and all-inclusive character of the journal in its exploration of seemingly disparate topics. At the outset, therefore, Life was still more comparable to such general interest Polish weeklies as The Illustrated Weekly than to the

European little magazines devoted purely to art and literature.

164 This program was published again in the first issue of the following year. The bold emphasis is included in the original text. “Życie przeznaczone jest dla szerszych warstw inteligentnej publiczności; służy celom 1. literacko-artystycznym, 2. społecznym i naukowym. W literaturze i sztuce Życie pragnie dać wierne i pełne odbicie życia i współczesnych prądów umysłowych. – Życie służy polskiej literaturze i sztuce, śledzi jednak również ruch piśmienniczy i artystyczny za granicą (w studyach, krytykach, listach ze stolic europejskich, oraz w Przeglądzie przeglądów). Życie przynosić będzie powieści oryginalne i nowele. Poezya, tak bujnie i pięknie rozwijająca się dzisiaj, obszerne otrzyma miejsce na szpaltach Życia. – Sprawy teatru, pilnie będą uwzględnianie w artykułach i recenzyach przedstawień, dział myzyki posiada fachowych, umiejętnych krytyków. Sztukom pięknym Życie służy; przynosząc reprodukcye wybitnych współczesnych dzieł artystycznych, głównie polskich. Nadto w studyach i krytykach, śledzi pilnie rozwój współczesnej naszej sztuki, obfitującej w tyle niepospolitych talentów. Z współczesnego ruchu naukowego, zwłaszcza z współczesnych prądów filozofii, socyologii i nauk przyrodniczych zdawać będą sprawę najwybitniejsze kompetentne pióra w popularny sposób.” “Program ‘Życia,’” Z 1, 14 (1897): 1.

However, even under Szczepański, Life distinguished itself from other Polish periodicals predominantly through its emphasis upon Young Poland and integration of foreign art and literature. In the second volume, the editor reinforced the program, maintaining that Life did not affiliate itself with any political party but served only progressive thought – that is, culturally and socially inclusive – and that the journal was open to multiple points of views, “embracing wide intellectual horizons.” Szczepański also stressed that “Life seeks to fully and faithfully reflect life and contemporary intellectual trends. Life is a literary and artistic publication aimed at the Polish intelligentsia; it is at the same time the only publication that concentrates on literature and art outside the Polish Kingdom.”165 Furthermore, Life promoted itself as “the literary and

artistic publication of ‘Young Poland,’”166 a term that would be fully defined by Artur

Górski in a subsequent issue. Life’s program under Szczepański was further reinforced

by his and contributing writers’ various polemical essays about art and literature, the

most significant of which are discussed in this chapter.

165 “Życie pragnie dać wierne i pełne odbicie życia i współczesnych prądów umysłowych. Życie jest pismem literackiem i artystycznem przeznaczonem dla inteligencyi polskiej, jest zarazem jedynym pismem, ogniskującem literaturę i sztukę poza obrębem Królestwa Polskiego.” “Od Redakcyi” Z 2, 14 (1898): 158. Life’s program, altered to varying degrees with the changes of editors, was reiterated throughout the journal’s duration.

166 In the same article, the editor further boasted that the journal represented the best Polish talents and that “there is not one great poet, who would not hasten sympathetically [to respond] to our call; we can [also] be proud of a long list of notable names among novelists. We have also introduced to our audience numerous young promising literary and artistic talents.” [Niema jednego wybitnego poety, któryby nie spieszył życzliwie na nasze wezwanie, z nowelistów możemy się już poszczycić długim szeregiem rozgłośnych imion. Wprowadziliśmy już też na widownię liczny szereg młodych obiecujących zdolności literackich i artystycznych.”] “Od Redakcyi” Z 2, 13 (1898): 145.

Górski and Sewer-Maciejowiski

Due to Life’s ongoing financial problems that Szczepański could no longer

manage, the editor elected to hand over the helms of the journal. The writer Ignacy

Sewer-Maciejowski assumed Life’s editorship and finances, and the critic Artur Górski,

who served as a contributing writer under Szczepański, became the Managing Editor.167

Additionally, the new editors appointed Leon Wyczółkowski, a Young Poland painter and founding member of “Sztuka,” as Artistic Director (from June through September

1898). Although Górski and Sewer-Maciejowski altered little of the content and programmatic aims of the journal, Wyczółkowski contributed significant changes to its visual format, discussed in more detail in the next chapter.

Under their brief editorship, the editors reinforced Life’s original programmatic aims. The editorial statement at the beginning of the 4 June 1898 issue stressed the important contributions of the journal, “in which the full spirit of the nation could be freely manifested in its literary and artistic work, just as the individuality of artists can freely be revealed.”168 This relationship between “full spirit of the nation” and

individuality revealed Górski’s belief, underscored in his “Young Poland” essay, that the

nation manifested itself in a work by virtue of the creator’s being Polish.

The editorial statement also reinforced Life’s focus upon Polish art and literature, which the editors sought to “bring to life,” and maintained that quality and individuality were indispensable attributes: “‘Life’ will not chase after popularity or lionize only

167 Górski served as Managing Editor (Redaktor odpowiedzialny) from June to August 1898. In September, Alfred Wysocki took on his role until the end of October 1898.

168 “w którem zarówno pełny duch narodu mógłby się swobodnie przebijać w swej twórczości piśmienniczej i plastycznej, jak i indywidualność artystów mogłaby się swobodnie przejawiać.” Redakcya, “Słowo wstępne” Z 2, 23 (1898): 265.

‘agreeable’ trends, supported exclusively by careless criticism. . . . Our task will be to

elevate the public taste with the aid of carefully chosen content, excellent criticism and reproductions of works primarily by our [Polish] painters and artists.”169 Though Life sought to accentuate the Polish character of its content, the editors also acknowledged the positive effects of foreign influence, adding that “[Life’s] views will stand in agreement with the results of contemporary knowledge and intellectual life of the West, from where we have always received enlivening and beneficial impulses.”170

Przybyszewski

The editor most closely associated with Life, partly due to his notorious

reputation, was the writer Stanisław Przybyszewski, who took over the journal in October

1898. Under Przybyszewski, Life underwent its greatest changes in both format and

content and became a truly modernist publication. Much of the transformation reflected

Przybyszewski’s own European travels and intellectual curiosities, which earned him the

German nickname “der geniale Pole.”171

Before his move to Krakow to undertake the editorship of Life, Przybyszewski

resided in Berlin, where he participated in the city’s literary and café cultures and

associated with foreign modernist artists and writers, earning him the reputation in

169 “‘Życie’ nie będzie tem samym gonić za popularnością i schlebiać jedynie ‘sympatycznym’ i przez zdawkową krytykę wyłącznie popieranym kierunkom. . . . zadaniem naszem będzie: podnosić smak publiczności zapomocą starannie dobranej treści, wytrawnej krytyki i reprodukcyj z dzieł głównie naszych malarzy i artystów.” In refusing to cater to popularity, the editors also sought to distinguish themselves from German periodicals (most likely Pan after the departure of editor Julius Meier-Graefe), which “follow the tastes and reading [habits] of the public.” Ibid.

170 “W poglądach stać będziemy w zgodzie z wynikami współczesnej nauki i z życiem umysłowem Zachodu, skąd zawsze odbieraliśmy ożywcze i pożyteczne impulsy.” Ibid.

171 Przybyszewski’s friend, the writer August Strindberg, gave him the nickname when the former lived in Berlin.

Poland of a bohemian.172 Przybyszewski initially moved to Berlin in 1889 to study architecture and, subsequently, medicine, before being expelled in 1893 for his association with workers’ movements and the Polish socialist newspaper The Workers’

Gazette (Gazeta robotnicza). While in Berlin, Przybyszewski also met and married (in

1893) the Norwegian Dagny Juel (whose writing also appeared in Life). Furthermore, there he established a successful literary career, writing numerous essays and fictional prose and participating in the planning stages of the journal Pan.173 His early publications include the essay “Zur Psychologie des Individuums” (1893) about Frédéric

Chopin, Friedrich Nietzsche, and Ola Hansson; the prose poems Totenmesse (1895) and

Vigilien (1895); and the novels Homo Sapiens (1895-96) and Satans Kinder (1897), among other works. These early works “brought him fame in the circles of Berlin

Bohemians, who considered him a genius.”174

Between 1894 and 1897, Przybyszewski and Dagny settled in Norway, though they also frequently traveled throughout Europe. While visiting Paris, in 1894,

Przybyszewski met Przesmycki, the future founder of Chimera, along with several Polish

172 Przybyszewski was one of a number of artists and writers – including Munch, Strindberg, and Richard Dehmel – who frequented the Berlin tavern Zum schwarzen Ferkel.

173 According to Przybyszewski, he initiated the creation of the journal, but, after leaving Berlin in 1894, “the whole plan transferred to the hands of a man [Julius Meier-Graefe], who is too big of a profiteer to execute my original intentions.” [“Cały plan dostał się w ręce faceta, który jest zbyt wielkim geszefciarzem, aby mógł moje pierwotne zamysły wykonać.”] Letter to Zenon Przesmycki in Paris, from Kongsvinger, May 1895 in Stanisław Przybyszewski: Listy, ed. Stanisław Helsztyński (Warszawa: Parnas Polski, 1937), 101. Though he was certainly one of the founders of Pan, Przybyszewski had little to do with the journal after its creation, though he occasionally contributed to it.

174 Czeslaw Miłosz, The History of Polish Literature, 2nd ed. (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1983), 329. For further discussion of his oeuvre, see chapters 9 and 13 in George C. Schoolfield, A Baedeker of Decadence: Charting a Literary Fashion, 1884-1927 (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2003) and Edward Boniecki, Struktura "Nagiej duszy": studium o Stanislawie Przybyszewskim (Warszawa: Instytut Badań Literackich, 1993).

and European artists who resided there. Like Berlin, Paris had a truly cosmopolitan (that

is, culturally diverse) environment – artists and writers of various nationalities and

backgrounds collected there.175 The Polish artist Franciszek Siedlecki, for example,

hosted gatherings where one could find such diverse personalities as Przybyszewski and the artists Ślewiński, Munch, and Otto Hettner.176

Although Przybyszewski returned to Berlin in 1897, the following year he moved

again, this time to Krakow to take over the editorship of Life. He remained in Krakow

until the journal folded in 1900, when he moved to Lwów and Warsaw, before finally

returning to Germany in 1906.

Przybyszewski seemed the perfect choice as editor of a journal dedicated to

modernist art and literature. His reputation in Poland and Germany was vast if somewhat

infamous. Though his prolific writing and masterly piano playing gained him the

reputation of “genius,” he was also renowned for his heavy drinking, erratic behavior,

and preoccupation with sexuality. Best known for his poetry and prose, which relied

heavily on symbolism and metaphor and concentrated upon sex and death, he was

significantly influenced by the decadent literature of August Strindberg and Joris-Karl

Huysmans. As evidenced in Life, he was particularly drawn to German and Scandinavian

literature and art, but under his editorship, French, Czech, and English writers and artists

also received great attention. Przybyszewski, because of his knowledge about new

175 For the role of Paris to Polish artists see Bobrowska-Jakubowska; Małgorzata Gmurczyk-Wrońska, Polacy we Francji w latach 1871-1914 (Warszawa: Wydawnictwo Neriton, 1996); Franciszek Ziejka, Paryż młodopolski (Warszawa: Wydawnictwo Naukowe PWN, 1993). For discussion about the cosmopolitan nature of Paris see David Harvey, Paris, Capital of Modernity (New York and London: Routledge, 2003); and Johannes Willms, Paris: Capital of Europe: From Revolution to Belle Époque (New York and London: Homes & Meier, 1997).

176 Stanisław Helsztyński, Przybyszewski: Opowieść biograficzna (Warszawa: Ludowa Spółdzielnia Wydawnicza, 1973), 232.

European artistic and literary directions and his insistence that Polish artists and writers make their mark on the international stage, would provide the journal with an international modernism, a feature that many modernist journals in Europe could boast but Polish journals still lacked.

Przybyszewski readily cultivated the image of himself as a modernist “genius” and cosmopolitan intellectual, ideas reinforced by a number of his Polish contemporaries.

For example, in his book Living People (1929), the Young Poland writer and critic

Tadeusz Boy-Żeleński remarked about Przybyszewski’s European character and his contributions to Polish intellectual culture:

Przybyszewski brought [to Krakow] a new breeze, the glamour of the grand bohemia, new European trends and directions. Following behind him were boxes of paintings by Munch, sculptures by Vigeland, engravings by Goya, a library of works concerning various ‘satanisms’, and superb art publications. But the main load of dynamite was [Przybyszewski] himself, with his need for being an apostle, for participation, for discovering talent, for paving the way.177

Even before assuming the editorship of Life, Przybyszewski’s work had been published in its pages. It was also in Life, in 1897, that his first Polish language publications appeared, since, as a resident of Berlin, Przybyszewski previously wrote exclusively in German.178 In a preface to Przybyszewski’s story “Epipsychidion,” a semi- autobiographical tale that literary scholar George Schoolfield calls “a plea to [his wife]

177 “Przybyszewski przyniósł nowy powiew, urok wielkiej bohemy, nowe prądy, nowe kierunki europejskie. Przybyły rychło za nim paki z obrazami Muncha, rzeźbami Vigelanda, sztychami Goyi, biblioteka dzieł traktujących o wszelkich ‘satanizmach’, wspaniałe wydawnictwa artystyczne. Ale główny ładunek dynamitu to był on sam, ze swą potrzebą apostolstwa, udzielania się, odkrywania talentów, torowania dróg.” Tadeusz Żeleński (Boy), Ludzie żywi (Warszawa: Państwowy Instytut Wydawniczy, 1956), 8.

178 “Nad morzem” and “Epipsychidion” published in Z 1, 5 (1898) and Z 2, 11 (1898), respectively.

Dagny,”179 the Polish poet Kazimierz Przerwa-Tetmajer pronounced him a “genius” who held an esteemed position among Polish writers respected outside of their home country.180 Przerwa-Tetmajer alluded to Przybyszewski’s knowledge of and immersion within pan-European culture while simultaneously praising his Polish identity and individuality, thereby emphasizing what served as the core argument of Polish modernists: that Polish national identity and international modernism were not mutually exclusive.181 For example, according to Przerwa-Tetmajer, “Epipsychidion” was reminiscent of Poe’s “Shadow” because of what he termed the symbolic “imagery,”

“style,” and “mood” of Przybyszewski’s tale. “But,” he countered, “[Przybyszewski] is as much of Poe’s school as Mickiewicz in ‘Wallenrod’ and [Juliusz] Słowacki in

‘Beniowski’ are from the school of Byron; it is known whence he came, but he followed and will [continue to] follow his own path; but it is not [yet] known: whither will he go?”182

179 Schoolfield, 127.

180 Przerwa-Tetmajer also pointed out that the title of Przybyszewski’s story “Epipsychidion” was inspired by William Shelly, though he obviously meant his father Percy Bysshe Shelley, who wrote a poem of the same title. He further noted that though Shelley inspired the title, the similarities ended there: “The English poet’s Epipsychidion is the most ideal and most idealistic lyrical love poem . . . Przybyszewski’s Epipsychidion is a colossal symbolic vision, in which it is as difficult to find the intention of the author as [it] is clear and simple in Shelley.” [“Epipsychidion angielskiego poety jest najidealniejszym i najidealistyczniejszym lirycznym poematem miłosnym . . .; Epipsychidion Przybyszewskiego jest kolosalną symbolistyczną wizyą, w której intencyi autora doszukiwać się jest równie trudno, jak przejrzystą i prostą jest intencya Shellya.”] Kazimierz Przerwa-Tetmajer, “Przedmowa” Z 2, 11 (1898): 122.

181 For an in depth discussion of this idea, see Brzyski “Modern Art and Nationalism” and “Between the Nation and the World.”

182 “Ale on jest tak ze szkoły Poego, jak Mickiewicz ze szkoły Byrona w ‘Wallenrodzie’ a Słowacki w ‘Beniowskim’; wiadomo, skąd przyszedł, ale poszedł i idzie swoją drogą, a niewiadomo: dokąd zajdzie?” Przerwa-Tetmajer, “Przedmowa,” 122.

Of course, one of the directions in which he went was the editorship of Life itself.

In the first issue of his tenure, Przybyszewski briefly introduced his goals for the journal.

He claimed:

I decided to assume [the editorial role of] Life to maintain the center around which were focused, for the last year, the most outstanding forces of ‘Young Poland’, and . . . because I have . . . strong faith that our society finally wants to understand that our true revival lies in knowledge and art. We might then give proof of our most intense vitality when our inexhaustible spiritual strength conquers Europe and renders on it such influence as [did], for example, the Scandinavian spirit.183

Przybyszewski, therefore, implicitly argued that a strong artistic national identity rested upon Polish artists’ ability to contribute to and play a vital role within international modernism. He concluded his essay by affirming that “art knows no boundaries, since life does not know them. . . . We must tear down the Chinese wall of Galician and Great

Poland’s understanding of art if our literature is to reach the heights of European literature.”184 Indeed, in this statement, Przybyszewski did not disregard Polish art as such but rather signaled its capacity to participate fully on the world’s stage, which Polish art simply could not do if it remained didactic or tendentious.185

Although, as a writer himself, Przybyszewski stressed literature, his statement was also applicable to the visual arts, since he took great interest in promoting modern art from both Poland and abroad. Przybyszewski prided himself on “introducing to Polish

183 “Postanowiłem objąć ‘Życie’ aby podtrzymać ognisko, przy którem przez rok skupiały się najwybitniejsze siły ‘Młodej Polski’, a wreszcie dla tego, bo mam wiarę w nasze społeczeństwo, silną wiarę, że to społeczeństwo zechce raz wreszcie zrozumieć, iż nasze prawdziwe odrodzenie tkwi w nauce i sztuce. Wtedy chyba damy dowód naszej najsilniejszej żywotności, jeżeli niespożyta nasza siła duchowa Europę opanuje, i taki na nią wpływ wywrze, jak n.p. duch skandynawski.” Przybyszewski, “Od Redakcyi,” Z 2, 38-39 (1898): 497.

184 “Sztuka granic nie zna, bo życie ich nie zna. . . . trzeba rozwalić mur chiński galicyjskich lub wielkopolskich pojęć o sztuce, jeżeli literatura nasza ma stanąć na wyżynie ogólno europejskiej literatury.” Ibid., 498.

185 In this, Przybyszewski adopted a Polish modernist rhetorical tactic. See Brzyski “Modern Art and Nationalism” and “Between the Nation and the World.”

society” foreign artists and writers – such as Huysmans, Otokar Brzezina, Poe, and Vasil

Stefanyk – still widely unknown in Poland.186 For him, the only way to become modern

was to “infiltrate” European culture rather than remaining insulated in a culture that sought only its own national preservation. That is, to gain validation on the international stage, Polish art had to transcend its provincialism.187

Initially, Przybyszewski did not dramatically alter the journal’s aims and program,

and, for several issues, Life continued to cover art and literature as well as social and

political stories. However, by issue 48 of 1898, Przybyszewski instituted major changes.

He altered the direction of the journal to concentrate solely on art and literature,

eliminating the political and social content, providing the following explanation: “We

have eliminated the section that dealt with the social sciences. As is understandable, its

function in the journal had been simply that of a ballast, as social questions are not going

to be solved by means of a few articles.”188 In the following year, he changed Life from a

weekly to a biweekly publication, increasing the average page count of the issues.189

Another critical transformation was his appointment of Stanisław Wyspiański, one of the

186 Stanisław Przybyszewski, “Pro Domo Mea,” Z 3, 13-14 (1899), np.

187 This is explored at length in Brzyski, “Between the Nation and the World,” 176.

188 Richard Sokoloski, “Stanisław Przybyszewski’s ‘Confiteor,’” Polish Review 29, 1-2 (1984): 45. I utilize Sokoloski’s translation of the essay “Confiteor” throughout. The essay originally appeared in Z 3, 1 (1899): 1-4.

189 The subtitle for the journal changed as well. From its outset, the journal was called Życie: Tygodnik ill[ustrowany], lit[eracki], art[ystyczny], nauk[owy] i społeczny [Life: An illustrated, literary, artistic, scientific and social weekly]. From issue 23 in 1898, the word “naukowy” was dropped. From issue 40/41, the word reappeared in another adaptation of the title: Tygodnik illustrowany literacko-artystyczny, społeczny i naukowy [“artistic” and “literary” now hyphenated]. From issue 48 in 1898, the journal’s title changed to Tygodnik illustrowany literacko-artystyczny, and from issue 1 in 1899, Dwutygodnik ilustrowany poświęcony literaturze i sztuce [The illustrated biweekly devoted to literature and art]. Finally, beginning with issue 13 in 1899, it became Czasopismo ilustrowane poświęcone literaturze i sztuce [“illustrated biweekly” became “journal”], transitioning to a monthly publication.

most respected members of Young Poland, as artistic director. Wyspiański’s

contributions (discussed in the following chapter) played a significant role in

transforming the journal into a modernist publication in appearance by virtue of his

attention to harmonious design and incorporation of Art Nouveau-inspired vignettes.

Under Przybyszewski, Life became a journal integrally associated with Polish modernism. Yet, he was initially wary about his de facto correlation with Young Poland

and its journalistic organ. Przybyszewski especially resented the criticism that identified

him as the leader of a movement whose writers merely imitated him, remarking rather

hyperbolically that “Life was identified with me to such an extent that people made me

responsible for everything that Young Poland wrote.”190 He countered this accusation by

pointing out that, in Life, he published works by authors such as Jan Kasprowicz, who

inspired him, rather than being inspired by him. Addressing the implication that the

journal was simply an instrument for his personal whims and literary interests, he

declared that he also published works of which he was not particularly fond.

Nevertheless, Przybyszewski’s reputation and the changes he introduced to Life were

instrumental to its transition from another Polish cultural and artistic periodical to a truly

modernist medium. Moreover, his preferred artists and writers dominated the journal’s

contents.

Journalistic Influences

Even before Przybyszewski took over the periodical, the editors waged attempts

to increase readers’ awareness about foreign art and literature, taking inspiration from

190 Przybyszewski, “Pro Domo Mea,” Z 3, 13-14 (1899): np.

several European modernist journals in creating Life’s program. For example, in the

second volume, Life reprinted an essay about Monet by André Fontainas, originally

published in Mercure de France.191 Although, by then, Monet’s reputation had been secured in Poland, the essay’s Symbolist approach to Monet’s work was indicative of the direction in which Life headed. Fontainas praised Monet for his ability to transcend mimesis, maintaining that the artist “longs for something more, he soars toward life, toward emotions.”192 The French author continued that “art is based on an expressive

and harmonious interpretation, so the work violently and unconsciously evokes in the viewer the maximum impression that the actual phenomenon evoked in the artist himself.”193 By including an essay from Mercure de France, a journal that promoted the

work of artists and writers associated with Symbolism, Life was aligning itself with the

Symbolist approach, thereby suggesting how art should be perceived and interpreted.

The journal, however, incorporated various influences throughout its duration.

Bąbiak compares Life’s initial format and aims to the Viennese journal Die Zeit and the

French journal La Plume, in particular because Life, like both of these journals, sought to

appeal to a relatively large general readership, unlike its successor Chimera.194 Certainly,

Die Zeit, created in 1894 by Hermann Bahr, whom Szczepański had met in Vienna,

191 The original appeared in Mercure de France 27, no. 103 (July 1898). This was one of the several instances in which previously published prose was borrowed and translated into Polish, thereby exposing new ideas to readers who did not read French (or German, Russian, etc.) or lacked access to foreign literature.

192 “Artysta bowiem pragnie czegoś więcej, wznosi się ku życiu, ku emocyom.” André Fontainas, “Claude Monet,” Z 2, 35 (1898): 462.

193 “Sztuka bowiem zasadza się na interpretacyi wyrazistej, harmonijnej i to takiej, aby dzieło gwałtownie, nieświadomie wywołało w widzu maximum wrażenia jakie zjawisko prawdziwe wywołać mogło u samego artysty.” Ibid.

194 Bąbiak, Metropolia i zaścianek, 117.

served as an influence upon the first editor. Die Zeit was also a weekly periodical in

which the editor “campaign[ed] for a transformation of values and for modernity in the

arts.”195 Like Life, which promoted the activities of new Polish art (that is, of Young

Poland), Bahr’s Die Zeit publicized the activities of the Viennese Secession and Jung-

Wien.196 However, Bahr’s approach to the arts – his championing of symbolism, anti-

naturalism, and his insistence on an artist’s truth to himself – were closer to

Przybyszewski’s rather than Szczepański’s aims. In a group of essays titled Renaissance

(1897) in Die Zeit, for example, Bahr stated, “All things are representations of the

external in the temporal; to eliminate the temporal and to extract the pure essence of the

eternal from objects is the task of art.”197 Indeed, Przybyszewski reinforced this

metaphysical approach to the meaning of art.

Although Przybyszewski may have echoed Bahr’s sentiments, though not his

desire to appeal to a wide audience, Life’s last editor was significantly more influenced by the Prague journal Moderní revue (published 1894-1925) (Figure 2), since

Przybyszewski “recogniz[ed] in it a ‘decadence’ akin to his own (intellectually and stylistically daring, internationalist but insistently apolitical).”198 Przybyszewski

maintained close contact with Moderní revue’s editor, Arnošt Procházka, a fervent

195 Donald G. Daviau, Hermann Bahr (Boston: Twayne Publishers, 1985), 10. Bahr left Die Zeit in 1899 after a falling out with his two founding collaborators, Isidor Singer and Heinrich Kanner. The journal ceased publication in 1904.

196 Bahr also contributed to Ver Sacrum.

197 Quoted in Daviau, 49.

198 Elizabeth Clegg, “Unterwegs: Stanisław Przybyszewski, 1894-1898” in Totenmesse: Munch – Weiss – Przybyszewski, ed. Łukasz Kossowski (Warsaw: Muzeum Literatatury im. Adama Mickiewicza, 1995), 45. See also Otto M. Urban, Lubos Merhaut and Dana Kestránková, Moderní revue: 1894-1925 (Praha: Torst, 1995).

promoter of modern and international art.199 Procházka was equally enthusiastic about

Przybyszewski’s work and published a number of his essays, including those about

Chopin, Nietzsche, Munch, and Vigeland. The two men frequently corresponded, with

Przybyszewski continually alerting Procházka “to new cultural developments that he felt

to be of importance – be they Scandinavian, German, Belgian or French – [which] was

crucial in enabling the Czech journal to maintain a consistent stand as a champion of

international Modernism.”200 Przybyszewski was also instrumental to the incorporation

of illustrations by Moderní revue, which lacked any illustrations until the Polish writer sent Procházka two photographs of sculptor Gustav Vigeland’s works in 1896.201

According to Elizabeth Clegg, Moderní revue’s subsequent inclusion of high quality images influenced Przybyszewski’s own approach to Life.202 Indeed, the reproduction of

artworks within the Polish journal increased significantly under his editorship.

In Life, Przybyszewski also adapted and translated several of his own essays previously published in Moderní revue, most notably those about Vigeland and Munch.

His desire for a journal comparable to the Czech publication was apparent before he edited Life, however. In a May 1897 letter to Procházka, Przybyszewski wrote, “I dream of going to Galicia, and there, in Lemberg [Lwów] or in Cracow, of founding a journal in the style of Moderní revue.”203 This letter is indicative not only of his admiration for the

199 For a discussion on Procházka, see Luboš Merhaut, “Arnošt Procházka: Theoretician of Autonomous Art and of ‘Moderní revue’” in Totenmesse: Modernism in the Culture of Northern and Central Europe, ed. Piotr Paszkiewicz (Warsaw: Institute of Art, Polish Academy of Sciences, 1996).

200 Clegg, “Unterwegs: Stanisław Przybyszewski,”45.

201 For several years, Przybyszewski continued to send to Procházka reproductions of foreign artists’ works.

202 Clegg, “Unterwegs: Stanisław Przybyszewski,”45.

203 Quoted in ibid., 52.

Czech journal but also of the perceived need for international modernism within Poland, whose cultural life he had previously derided: “[the Slavs are] really very untalented in

the arts, particularly in the visual arts.”204 Still, although Moderní revue inspired the

format of Life under Przybyszewski, it was the Polish writer, with his “decadent” philosophy and aesthetic theories, who initially inspired Procházka.

Programs and Essays under Szczepański

Life’s several editorial and format changes present a difficult interpretative challenge for the journal as a whole. Therefore, the rest of this chapter is subdivided according to the various editorial directions and considers the most significant editorial programs and polemical essays in Life in order to acknowledge its changing objectives.

Art and Self-Expression

In the first issue, sculptor and writer Cyprian Godębski remarked upon the

necessary qualities that an artist must exhibit, focusing on the artist’s self-identity.

“Every artist,” he wrote, “should possess three essential attributes: the love of truth;

feeling (sentiment), which should not be confused with sentimentality; [and] . . . a fiery

faith, aiming at infinity, which ignited the souls of the giants like Phidias, Michelangelo,

Beethoven, Shakespeare.”205 He further instructed the artist to follow his personal path in the creative process, disregarding desires for fame: “Do not play to the crowd because

204 Letter to Procházka, 21 October 1898, quoted in ibid., 53.

205 “Każdy artysta posiadać winien trzy przymioty pierwszorzędne: miłość prawdy; uczucie (sentyment), którego nie należy mieszać z sentymentalizmem; . . . wiarę gorącą, mierzącą w nieskończoność, która rozpłomieniała dusze olbrzymów jak Fidyasz, Michał Anioł, Beethoven, Shakespeare.” Cypryan Godębski, “Sztuka i Krytyka,” Z 1, 1 (1897): 3.

92 you will turn into artisans, and art has a higher calling!”206 The implication that art should be an expression of the artist rather than a manifestation of some national zeal remained strongly pronounced throughout the journal.

For Godębski, the goal of art was to continue God’s “divine work” in creating a

more beautiful world. He spoke of it in religious terms: “Art, having a divine origin, is a

religion, a religion much higher than any other.”207 Yet Godębski was not necessarily promoting idealism. Godębski did not stray from the conventional approach to representation. In other words, the artist still had to paint or sculpt naturalistically – that

is, without abstraction – yet avoid neglecting the expression of the artist’s feelings. The

naturalism could not be contrived; it had to be drawn directly from the artist’s experience.

He warned, “Any artist, who instead of drawing inspiration from nature, bases his art on

academic conventions, falsifies art. His painting does not represent the reality of, for

example, a street, a public plaza or a temple, but gives us theater.”208 In this, Godębski followed Diderot in the sense that a painting should be “clear and simple” and its scene understood through a single look.209

206 “Nie pracujcie dla tłumu, bo przemienicie się w rzemieślników, a sztuka ma wyższe zadanie!” Ibid., 4.

207 “Sztuka, mająca początek boski, jest religią, religią . . . wyższą od wszelkich innych.” Ibid.

208 “Wszelki artysta, który miasto czerpać natchnienie z natury, opiera swoją sztukę na konwencyi akademickiej, fałszuje sztukę. Obraz jego nie przedstawia rzeczywistości n.p. ulicy, placu publicznego, świątyni, lecz daje nam teatr.” Ibid.

209 In his study of Diderot and his contemporaries, Michael Fried noted that to avoid theatricality, “French criticism and theory of the period insisted from the outset on the need for painting to achieve an absolutely perspicuous mode of pictorial unity, one in which the causal necessity of every element and relationship in the painting would be strikingly and instantaneously apparent.” Michael Fried, Absorption and Theatricality: Painting and Beholder in the Age of Diderot (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1980), 76. Though this concept is obvious in Godębski’s essay as well, Diderot’s problem with lack of clarity was directed at allegorical painting. However, Godębski, a sculptor, executed several allegorical statues such as Genius and Brutal Force (Geniusz i Siła Brutalna, 1888) and (A Reverie about Glory) Marzenie o Sławie (1894). Yet ironically, he quoted Diderot in his essay – “We want pure and simple pleasure – and we turn away from the artist who gives us an emblem or a logogriph to solve” – who, as Fried shows, argued for “radical intelligibility.” Ibid., 90; Diderot quoted in Godębski, 4. (Godębski slightly altered the actual

Although Godębski seemed to hail the direction that the journal took, an

interesting footnote appears to his article, in which the editor (not identified as

Szczepański specifically, but simply as “the editors”) noted that Godębski was clearly influenced by certain “new theories” in French aesthetics and that the editors did not share all of his views.210 Most likely, Szczepański sought to distance himself from the

French Naturalists. Godębski based his own art on a realistic rendering, and he had little

use for Polish art’s rising symbolist direction, which became a large focus in Life.211

Still, Godębski’s deep interest in and receptivity to foreign art represented one of strongest defining characteristics of the periodical.212

Szczepański on “National Art”

While Godębski was not particularly radical in his own art, his internationalism

was an example of the changing face of Polish art. One of the most vocal remonstrances

against the “new” Polish art was published in 1898 for The Polish Word by the journalist

Stanisław Szczepanowski, whose “The Disinfection of European Tendencies” warned

readers about what the author saw as the dangerous trend of foreign influence upon

Polish artists and writers. In his vitriolic essay, Szczepanowski railed against the

quote – in the original French: “je tourne les dos à un peintre qui me propose un emblème, un logogriphe à déchiffrer.” Denis Diderot, Essais sur la peinture in Oeuvres Esthétiques, éd. P.Vernière (Paris: Garnier Frères, 1968), 712.

210 Editorial footnote to Godębski, 3.

211 A. Ryszkiewicz, “Cyprian Godębski,” in Słownik artystów polskich i obcych w Polsce działających, vol. 2. (Wrocław: Zakład Narodowy im. Ossolińskich, 1975), 382.

212 Godeębski’s interest in foreign, especially French, art was largely attributable to his travels. Though Polish, he was born in France (in Mery-Sur-Cher), and he studied and worked primarily in Paris, where he died in 1909 (he also lived briefly in Vienna, Belgium, Warsaw, and Lwów). In addition to conducting salons in Paris, Godębski served as president for the Polish Literary-Artistic Circle, a Parisian organization seeking to promote Polish art in Paris.

“guano” emerging in Europe, particularly France.213 Denouncing l’art pour art, which

he considered the “illusory label of truth and beauty,” he wrote, “Descending from this

sunny world [of art stemming from the ancient Greeks] into the world of today’s

naturalists, decadents, and impressionists, I have the impression of having found myself

suddenly in the company of reptiles, snails, and toads.”214

It is precisely these elements that Szczepanowski saw as “infecting” new Polish

art and literature. For him, foreign sources had to be cautiously and sporadically

incorporated into the national art, “so that only their healthy elements come to us,

becoming useful, not ruinous.”215 He was not against “European tendencies” altogether, only against those he considered detrimental to Polish art and literature – that is, those

“decadent” tendencies of “chasing” Aestheticism and condoning l’art pour art, represented by such writers as Zola, Charles Baudelaire, and Gabriel d’Annunzio, which he saw overtaking Young Poland literature. Ultimately, what Szczepanowski perceived as true art was art that ennobled the national cause, arguing: “Our ‘shining ones,’” –

Poland’s great writers and artists – “did not discuss aesthetic beauty but the rebuilding of

213 He derisively claimed, “For many years [the state of French literature] has looked like a huge, stinking cesspool, where amidst various phosphoresces and miasma the quintessence of rottenness is produced: guano. This is the product for which there is demand and which is sold in many varieties to satisfy all fantasies and whims of the smell and palette.” ["Od szeregu lat przedstawia się ona jak wielka cuchnąca gnojówka, gdzie wśród rozmaitych fosforescencji i miazmatów wyrabia się kwintesencja zgnilizny: guano. Jest to towar nader pokupny i sprzedaje się w rozmaitych gatunkach, ażeby zaspokoić wszelkie fantazje i wybryki powonienia i podniebienia.”] Piast [Stanisław Szczepanowski],“Dezynfekcja prądów Europejskich,” Słowo Polskie, no. 40 (1898), reprinted in Programy i dyskusje literackie okresu Młodej Polski, ed. Maria Podraza-Kwiatkowska (Wrocław: Zakład Narodowy im. Ossolińskich, 1977), 54.

214 “Zstępując z tego świata słonecznego do świata dzisiejszych naturalistów, dekadentów i impresjonistów, mam wrażenie, jakbym się znalazł naraz w otoczeniu gadów, ślimaków i ropuch.” Ibid., 56-7.

215 “ażeby tylko ich zdrowe pierwiastki się do nas dostały i wyszły na pożytek, a nie na zgubę.” Ibid., 62.

the Fatherland. This was their source of inspiration.”216 Nevertheless, Young Poland, and Life, increasingly absorbed Aestheticism and the concept of art for art’s sake, lauded by writers such as Przybyszewski.

In a rebuttal in Life titled “National Art,” Szczepański responded to

Szczepanowski’s invectives. In particular, he objected to Szczepanowski’s contention that, until recently, all good Polish art had been national and that young Polish artists were losing sight of national goals by pursuing aesthetic standards. He took issue with

Szczepanowski’s claims that European “tendencies” (of Gustave Flaubert and Baudelaire, for example) contributed to the eradication of national pride in Polish art, and he replied:

It is true that we take foreign models seriously, that we follow the path of foreign techniques, adopting its achievements, but this is not a matter of mere imitation. No, it is a contemporary autonomous creativity, spurred by similar intellectual trends and impressions. Our artists live the spiritual life of Europe, are influenced by the same impulses, hence the similarity in both mood and artistic technique. . . . These young poets and artists are concerned with finding expression for the naked soul, the idea of its essence. If the so-called ‘national slogans’ do not sound loudly enough in contemporary art, there is another reason for this. We have a disdain toward redundant phraseology. The noisy and empty ‘patriotism’ . . . stirs in us a deep distaste and brings ironic laughter.217

For Szczepański, the foreign “tendencies” assimilated into Polish art and literature were reactions against the artistic and literary didacticism that limited expression and sought only to inculcate patriotism. Art and literature had to stand for greater truths –

216 “Nie o piękności estetycznej nasi ‘promieniści’ rozprawiali, ale o odbudowaniu Ojczyzny. To było źródłem ich natchnienia.” Ibid., 65.

217 “Przejmujemy się co prawda wzorami obcymi, w technice idziemy śladem zagranicy, przyswajając sobie jej zdobycze, ale nie można tu mówic o zwyczajnem naśladownictwie. Nie, jest to współczesna samodzielna twórczość, wywołana podobnymi prądami umysłowymi i wrażeniami. Nasi artyści żyją życiem duchowem Europy, ulegają tym samym wstrząśnieniom, i stąd pochodzi podobieństwo w nastroju i technice artystycznej. . . . Tym młodym poeton i artystom chodzi o uplastycznienie nagiej duszy, o pojęcie jej istoty. Jeżeli tak zwane ‘hasła narodowe’ nie rozbrzmiewają na pozór donośnie w sztuce współczesnej, to jeszcze inna potemu jest przyczyna. Mamy pewien wstręt do zdawkowej frazeologii. ‘Patryotyzm’ krzykliwy a pusty . . . obudza w nas tylko głęboki niesmak lub wywołuje ironiczny uśmiech.” Szczepański, “Sztuka narodowa,” Z 2, 10 (1898): 110. The concept of “naked soul” was one adopted from Przybyszewski and will be discussed later in this chapter.

artistic revelation – which many foreign artists, particularly those aligned with

Symbolism, already attained. Among the goals of the Polish artist was the need to offer

art “the entire content of his spirit” and to “catch up” to the developments of foreign

art.”218 Criticizing the idea that art was only legitimate when “useful” (i.e. patriotic) and when adhering to academic aesthetic standards, Szczepański concluded: “If our art is enlivened by the cult of truth – if the Polish artist strives to be himself and expresses the content of his spirit in an original and aesthetically most perfect way – then this art becomes progressive and is beautiful, ‘useful’ and national.”219 For Szczepański, therefore, artists did not have to stop producing “national” art, but the conception of

“national” had to change.220

“National” art was previously defined by its ability to express national subject

matter through symbolism, allegory, or historical documentation. Szczepański’s desire to

reevaluate the understanding of art’s national character was indicative of criticism rooted

in Young Poland, which proposed that “any subject executed in any style could be

legitimately thought of as national as long as the artist felt himself to be a Pole.”

Furthermore, “since content did not determine the national value of a work, the sole

218 Ibid.

219 “Jeżeli twórczość naszą ożywia kult prawdy – jeżli artysta polski stara się być sobą i wyrazić treść ducha swego w oryginalny, a estetycznie najdoskonalszy sposób – sztuka taka ma w sobie siłę rozwoju i jest piękną, ‘pożyteczną’ i narodową.” Ibid.

220 Szczepański’s view was a continuation and extension of arguments by critics such as Stanisław Witkiewicz and Antoni Sygietyński, who warned artist’s about the negative effects of artistic provincialism. The re-definition of national art during the last quarter of the nineteenth century is explored at length by Brzyski in “Between the Nation and the World” and “Modern Art and Nationalism.”

criterion of evaluation was the work’s form [or style, in the case of literature].”221 In his essays about Young Poland, Górski made this goal more explicit.

Górski’s “Young Poland”

Although by 1897, the “Young Poland” movement was well under way, it still lacked a name – labels such as “impressionists,” “modernists,” “decadents,” and “neo- romantics” were alluded to, often with little justification. In 1898, in the pages of Life,

Artur Górski, writing under the pseudonym “Quasimodo,” embarked upon his essay titled

“Young Poland,” thus giving the movement of artists and writers a concrete identity and crystallizing its aims. The article appeared in six segments, and by the time of the fifth installment’s publication, Szczepański was no longer editor, having stepped down and offered the post to Górski himself. 222

Górski served as a contributing writer before publishing his seminal “Young

Poland” essay. For the 2 April 1898 issue, for example, he penned an essay about Jan

Matejko and the recently opened Matejko House, a museum dedicated to the artist.

Matejko was considered one of the finest visual artists Poland ever produced. Artists and

the public alike admired his romantic subject matter and dynamic painting technique and,

above all, his nationalistic content. Yet, in his article, Górski praised Matejko for his

“individuality” and ability to transcend mere patriotic content by conveying emotion and

feeling. For Górski:

The profound knowledge of the human soul made [Matejko] a psychological painter, and this made [him] a deeper historical painter. We have already seen

221 Brzyski, “Constructing the Canon,” online.

222 The essays appeared in issues 15, 16, 18, 19, 24, and 25 – all in volume 2.

many ‘historical paintings’ that were merely an exhibition of costumes and armor; but when we stand in front of Grunwald [Matejko’s 1878 painting, The Battle of Grunwald], we see above all the drama of physiognomy and movement.223

Rather than emphasizing Matejko’s contributions to national art, Górski focused on the artist’s expressive ability to capture the exterior and interior states of his subjects.

Therefore, Górski attempted to position Matejko as a precursor for Young Poland – as if to claim him as “one of us.”224 Yet, ultimately, Matejko achieved fame as a nationalistic

painter since he focused predominantly on allegorical and historical paintings of the

“Fatherland.” In his “Young Poland” essays, Górski stressed that it was precisely from

such explicit nationalism young artists and writers sought to depart.

Like Szczepański before him, Górski addressed the criticisms foisted upon Young

Poland by Szczepanowski but also directed his comments to the writer Marian

Zdziechowski, who called for artistic content that uplifted the public’s religious

sentiments.225 Criticizing the two writers’ demands for “the good plus beauty,” Górski

countered, “we [Young Poland] called this postulate utilitarianism, since both

[Szczepanowski and Zdziechowski] . . . understand the good [to consist of] some

specific values and consider art to be a servant conscious of its religious, political, and

moral duties.”226 Certainly, in the visual arts such ideas gave rise to history painting, a

223 “Głęboka znajmość ludzkiej duszy uczyniła go malarzem psychologicznym, a ten pogłębił historycznego malarza. Jużeśmy nieraz widzieli ‘obrazy historyczne’, które były tylko wystawą kostyumów i zbroic; -- natomiast gdy się stanie przed bitwą pod Grunwaldem, widzi się przedewszystkiem dramat fyziognomij i ruchów.” Artur Górski, “Matejko i ‘Dom Matejki’” Z 2, 14 (1898): 158.

224 The strategy of adopting Matejko as a modernist forerunner was later adopted by the editors of the serialized modernist album Polish Art. See Brzyski, “Constructing the Canon,” online.

225 Zdziechowski’s essay, “Spór o piękno” (“A Dispute about Beauty”) appeared in Przegląd Literackim in 1898. It was later re-titled “Płazy a ptaki” (“Amphibians and Birds”). See Marian Zdziechowski, “Płazy a ptaki” in Podraza-Kwiatkowska, ed., 81-96.

226 “‘Dobro plus piękno’ takim chcą mieć obaj polemiści stosunek sztuki do życia. Nazwaliśmy ten postulat utilitaryzmem, ponieważ zarówno redaktor Słowa Polskiego jak i szan. profesor pod pojęcie dobra

genre that, during the 1860s, topped the artistic hierarchy in Poland as it had in France.

Górski opposed such rigid standards. For him, moralizing art and literature were

“utilitarian” and conflicted with artistic expression.

In response to the criticism that Young Poland was insufficiently patriotic, Górski offered the following defense: “We love everything that is [Polish]; we believe in the great future of our nation; and our most ardent desire is to be the support [literally,

“footstool”] for the glory of our fatherland, which we desire to serve until the last beat of our hearts.”227 However, to be patriotic, to be national, one did not have to create overtly patriotic art. Rather, the artwork was obliged only to serve as a conduit for artistic expression. Górski declared:

There is no true, great art without a free manifestation of individuality – any other art, [that is] created [solely] for the public, is artistic industry. If harmony exists between the artist and society, then masterpieces are created, [masterpieces] that galvanize the entire nation with one common idea, one common, and thus heroic, sentiment.228

Like many of his Polish contemporaries, Górski rejected the “decadent” label,

foisted upon young Polish artists by critics such as Szczepanowski, who perceived an

ongoing degeneration in art (à la Nordau). Górski recognized the frequent overuse (and

misuse) of the term, which he defined as “a moral mood that is saturated with resignation

podkładają pewne konkretne wartości a sztukę uważają za służebnicę, świadomą swych religijnych, politycznych i moralnych obowiązków.” Quasimodo [Artur Górski], “Młoda Polska” Z 2, 19 (1898): 217.

227 “Kochamy wszystko co rodzime, wierzymy w wielką przyszłość naszego narodu a najgorętszem naszem pragnieniem – być podnóżkiem chwały tej Ojczyzny, której służyć chcemy ostatniem uderzeniem serca.” Ibid.

228 “Niema bowiem prawdziwej, wielkiej sztuki bez swobodnego przejawu indywidualności – wszelka inna sztuka, tworzona dla ogółu, jest przemysłem artystycznym. Jeżli między twórcą a społeczeństwem istnieje harmonia, wówczas powstają arcydzieła, które entuzyazmują cały naród jedną wspólną myślą, jednem wspólnem a więc bohaterskiem uczuciem.” Górski, “Młoda Polska,” Z 2, 16 (1898): 182. The “heroic sentiment” was a reference to Szczepanowski’s essay, which urged writers to create works that would arouse “heroic deeds” in its readers.

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and disenchantment and that is based on the complete disbelief in further progress, in a higher being, [and] in the evolution of civilization.”229 For Górski, Young Poland did not

represent any of those qualities. Furthermore, he argued that decadence was a political,

rather than artistic or literary, condition. For example, it applied to the Poles who

submitted to the Russian Empire in hopes of obtaining its good graces and who “polished

the czar’s floors, who collected the titles, medals and money, and who had only one

excelsior, only one desire: [to make their own career]. They . . . exist in the social body

like the germs of disintegration, causing its inflammation.”230 Therefore, he left the

reader no doubt that the artists of Young Poland could not be included within this

categorization.

To the criticisms about foreign influence upon Young Poland artists and writers,

Górski responded that Young Poland, in fact, desired to continue the national

achievements of great Romantic Polish writers such as Słowacki, Zygmunt Krasiński,

Henryk Sienkiewicz, and especially Mickiewicz, all of whom he professed served as

“guiding spirits” for Young Poland. The movement’s foundation, therefore, was

intrinsically national, utilizing foreign art and literature only as inspiration rather than

imitation:

And if we pay particular attention to the West, we do just what other nations do: we take from their literature what can useful for us, but that which is alien and harmful to us we reject like a squeezed lemon. And this is what we demand of

229 “pewien nastrój moralny, oparty na zupełnej niewierze w dalszy rozwój, w wyższy byt, w ewolucję cywilizacyjną, a przesiąkły rezygnacją i rozczarowaniem.” Górski, “Młoda Polska” Z 2, 18 (1898): 206.

230 “szlifowali carskie posadzki, zbierali tytuły, ordery i pieniądze i jedno tylko mieli excelsior, jedną tylko dążność: ‘do pasztetu’. Są oni i dzisiaj, tkwią w ciele społeczeństwa jak zarazki rozkładu i przyprawiają je o stan zapalny.” Ibid.

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our art, that it be Polish, Polish through and through – since if it loses its national character, it will thereby lose its force, value and reason for existence.231

For art to be “Polish through and through,” the artist or writer must express his

individuality. True self-expression precluded any (foreign) imitation, and Polish art was

Polish because its creator was a Pole.232 Furthermore, for Górski, one’s artistic

production did not determine one’s patriotism. Instead, national identification was

predicated upon one’s desire to be a Pole.

The writer also argued, “A great artist is one who, distancing himself from the

clamor of everyday life, leans over the depth of his own soul and listens to the voices

which arise from this depth.”233 As Górski saw it, a new artistic Zeitgeist, in which

artists and writers turned away from society to look inwards and concern themselves with

the state of the individual and the soul, had developed. “In place of the masses,” Górski

argued, “individuality became the highest value and dignity on earth; in place of social

ethics, [there arose] an ethics of the soul, an aesthetic morality.”234 Rejecting any official

“program” for Young Poland, Górski asserted that the young artist should remain true to

his talents and listen only to his soul rather than attempting to please the public.

231 “A jeśli zwracamy baczną uwagę na zachód, to czynimy to tak, jak to czynią inne narody: bierzemy z ich literatury to co może mieć dla nas pożytek, a co nam jest obce i szkodliwe, odrzucamy jak wyciśniętą cytrynę. I tego właśnie żądamy od sztuki naszej, aby była polską, nawskroś polską – bo jeśli straci rodzimość, straci tem samem siłę i wartość i swoją racyę bytu.” Górski, “Młoda Polska,” Z 2, 25 (1898): 299.

232 Brzyski, “Between the Nation and the World,” 169, 176. See also Brzyski, “Modern Art and Nationalism.”

233 “Wielkim artystą jest ten, kto zdala od turkotu bieżącego życia pochyla się nad głębią własnej duszy swojej i słucha głosów, które dobywają się z tej głębi.” Górski, “Młoda Polska,” Z 2, 24 (1898): 279.

234 “Na miejsce masy staneła indywidualność jako najwyższa wartość i godność na ziemi, na miejsce etyki społecznej etyka duszy, moralność estetyczna.” Górski, “Młoda Polska,” Z 2, 19 (1898): 217.

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In addition to promoting a turn inward, Górski reacted against realism and naturalism, opposing “the objective method and the materialistic understanding of the human soul.”235 Górski explained that “For writers such as [Maurice] Maeterlinck,

Huysmans, d’Annunzio, [Paul] Verlaine [and] Przybyszewski, the most vital object of artistic contemplation became an individual soul, examined against the background of the mystery of being” and for whom death and love became the primary focal points.236 This was the art and literature of the “naked soul” (a term borrowed from Przybyszewski), art and literature deriving from artistic creativity released from social and artistic conventions and emanating not from the intellect but from the inner psyche. Górski claimed, “Literature is our Lady, our Intercessor, our Comforter, which we sinners call from the depths of our longing and sadness.”237 These goals were sacred as suggested by his religious language, which would not be lost on the predominantly Roman Catholic readers who would have immediately grasped Górski’s allusion to the Virgin Mary.

In his call for introspection, rejection of didacticism and clichés, and truth to oneself in art, Górski’s essay served as a kind of manifesto for Young Poland, which lacked its own de facto program. This call also assured that only those (modernist) critics

who understood the subjectivist criteria for the new art could effectively evaluate it.

Since these critics dictated the criteria, they held a virtual monopoly over the assessment

and interpretation of the new art. Indeed, Górski was cynical about the public’s ability to

235 “metodzie przedmiotowej i materyalistycznemu pojmowaniu ludzkiej duszy.” Ibid.

236 “Dla pisarzy takich jak Maeterlinck, Huysmanns, d’Annunzio, Verlaine, Przybyszewski, najżywszym przedmiotem kontemplacyi artystycznej stała się oderwana, tylko na tle zagadki bytu badana dusza .” Ibid.

237 “Literatura to Pani nasza, Orędowniczka nasza, Pocieszycielka nasza, której my grzeszni wołamy z głębokości naszych pragnień i smutków.” Górski, “Młoda Polska,” Z 2, 15 (1898): 170. Górski emphasized literature primarily because he was a writer himself. In fact, the relationship between Young Poland art and literature was relatively fluid, and, because many artists were also writers and vice versa, their goals were rarely opposed.

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truly understand the Young Poland’s goals and pessimistic about Life’s success in

imparting them. Presenting his doubts from the outset, Górski called attention to the

ignorance and uninspired taste of most of the Polish public. He lamented that because

Life was not sufficiently ignorant (literally “donkey-like” – “osłowskie”), it would not stand the chance of remaining a long-lasting publication. Though finances ultimately contributed to Life’s demise, Górski would be proven right.

Programs and Essays under Przybyszewski

Although Górski provided a (cautious) springboard for international modernism, it was Przybyszewski who promoted it unequivocally. In essays such as “Confiteor” and

“Concerning ‘New’ Art,” he articulated, using his poetic and symbolically laden prose, the new direction he sought for Polish art – one that shunned national concerns and displaced them with pure, psychic expression. In addition to his continued support of

Young Poland, he increased the publication of foreign writers and introduced to readers foreign artists who were virtually, if not completely, unknown in Poland. Ultimately, his focus on the “naked soul” and art for its own sake resulted in a journal that transcended national barriers. Furthermore, the journal’s direction turned increasingly elitist as

Przybyszewski geared its contents toward readers who could understand and appreciate the goals of modernist art and literature.

Expression of the Naked Soul

For Przybyszewski, among the most important roles of art was the expression of

the artist’s “naked soul.” Although the phrase was Przybyszewski’s innovation, the

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concept previously emerged in the philosophy of Novalis, the poetry of Edmond

Haraucourt, and the Scandinavian mysticism of Hans Jaeger and Ola Hanson, according

to literary scholar Edward Boyé.238 For Przybyszewski, the naked soul represented one’s

unconsciousness in all of its desires, fears, and anxieties. Jan Cavanaugh likens it to “a

primordial force similar to what Freud call the id or libido that drives man instinctively to

propagate the species.”239 It was “immortal and unique, the source of all psychic life,”

and the goal of art was to manifest the artist’s naked soul (rather than mimic some

“reality”).240 According to art historian Katarzyna Nowakowska-Sito, “Expression of the

spiritual contents [of the soul] was conceived by Przybyszewski . . . as an absolute

faithfulness in the inner vision, free of all formal restrictions.” Furthermore, “[a]n artist

was to achieve primitive man’s state of [the] soul, which would result in an eruption of

intensive feelings, breaking all cultural ‘forms.’”241

For Przybyszewski, the artist that best represented the manifestation of the naked soul was Edvard Munch, and the Polish writer enthusiastically promoted the artist in both

Life and other publications. In 1894, Przybyszewski wrote an essay, “Psychischer

Naturalismus,” for the German periodical Freie Bühne in which he praised Munch as a

“genius,” “aristocrat of the spirit,” and a “great visionary.”242 In 1898, he published a

238 Boyé, 55.

239 Cavanaugh, 214.

240 Władysława Jaworska, “Edvard Munch and Stanislaw Przybyszewski,” Apollo (October 1974): 313.

241 “Primitive” man’s soul was connected to a universal soul, a link which was severed “in the progress of ontogenesis of the species.” Katarzyna Nowakowska-Sito, “Expression of the ‘Naked Soul’ and European Art at the turn of the 19th Century” in Paszkiewicz, ed., 32.

242 Quoted in Jaworska, “Edvard Munch and Stanislaw Przybyszewski,” 312. Przybyszewski was Munch earliest biographer, supporting Munch when the Norwegian artist was still struggling for acceptance, especially in Germany. In 1892, Munch was invited by the Verein Berliner Künstler to exhibit a one-man show at the Architektenhaus. Munch’s highly expressive work caused a scandal, prompting the Verein to

105 revised version of this essay in Life called “On the Paths of the Soul” (“Na drogach duszy”), which incorporated another revised essay about Gustav Vigeland and discussed both artists’ works and careers.243 For Przybyszewski, Munch’s art exemplified the intensity and expressionistic qualities of the highest art, in which color, form, and subject matter all contributed to the materialization of the artist’s psyche.

In his essay, Przybyszewski introduced a kind of epistemological dualism in which the brain and the soul are diametrically opposed.244 Artists who painted simply what appeared before them followed the path of the brain, while artists who transcended reality to depict the eternal essence of things walked the “path of the soul.”245 Munch represented the quintessential artist who transcended the life of logic and the brain and

close the exhibition after only one week. Controversy within the Verein about the closing led to a break in the group and the formation of the Berlin Secession. For analyses of Munch’s career, see Sue Prideaux, Edvard Munch: Behind The Scream (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2005) and Reinhold Heller, Munch: His Life and Work (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1984). For the Berlin Secession see Peter Paret, The Berlin Secession: Modernism and Its Enemies in Imperial Germany (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1980).

243 For the various manifestations and revisions of his essays on Munch and Vigeland, see Clegg, “Unterwegs: Stanisław Przybyszewski.”

244 For Przybyszewski, the brain is ruled by rationality and materialism, while the soul embraces infinity and sees only the eternal: “the brain is the weekday, the day of work and struggle; it is mathematics, it is logic; but the soul is the rare holiday, something that cannot be embraced by either rules or logic; it is the glory and ascension of the human race. For the brain, two times two equals four; for the soul, it can equal one million, since it knows no intervals in time or space. . . . What is incomprehensible for the brain occurs in the soul, which strips everything of the accidental form that is perceived by the brain.” [“Mózg to dzień powszedni, dzień pracy i znoju, to matematyka, to logika, a dusza to rzadki dzień świąteczny, coś, czego ani regułą ani logiką objąć nie można, to chwała i wniebowstąpienie rodu ludzkiego. Dla mózgu dwa razy dwa jest cztery, dla duszy może być milion, ponieważ nie zna interwali, ani w czasie, ani w przestrzeni. . . . Niepojęte dla mózgu dokonywa się w duszy, która obnaża wszystko z przypadkowości formy, w jakiej się ono mózgowi przedstawia.”] Przybyszewski, “Na drogach duszy,” Z 2, 42 (1898): 547.

245 Przybyszewski used the example of Rops, who did not simply paint naturalistic images of women but expressed their supposed “nature”: “Rops’s woman is a frightful cosmic force. His woman is the woman who awakened the libido in a man, chained him to herself through her cunning and false caress, trained him to be monogamous, softened his instincts . . . and injected into his blood the venom of satanic pain.” [“Kobieta Ropsa, to straszliwa kosmiczna potęga. Jego kobieta, to kobieta, która w mężczyźnie obudziła chuć, przykuła go do siebie podstępną a fałszywą pieszczotą, wychowała go na jednożeńca, wydelikaciła jego instynkty . . . i wszczepiła mu w krew jad szatańskiego bólu.”] Ibid. Przybyszewski subscribed to the Schopenhauerian view of woman as femme fatale.

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entered the realm of the soul. The Norwegian artist did not paint simply what he saw,

unlike the artists who Przybyszewski derisively called “reporters”:

All painters until now have been painters of the external world; every emotion that they wanted to represent, they first clothed in external action; they derived every mood indirectly from their external surroundings. . . . Expressing the phenomena of the soul through external events – états d’âme through états de choses – has been the existing unbroken tradition which every painter followed. Munch has decidedly broken with this tradition. He tries to directly express the phenomena of the soul with paint. He paints what can only be seen by the naked individual, whose eyes have turned away from the world of phenomena and are directed towards the depths of his own existence.246

For Przybyszewski, therefore, narrative painting was anathema to his goals for art since attentiveness to matters of execution and style left little room for the expression of the artist’s psyche. Munch’s art, on the other hand, successfully achieved the latter and, for the writer, exemplified a goal to which Polish art also had to aspire.

Yet, despite Przybyszewski’s exaltation of Munch’s art, the artist did not achieve much recognition among Krakow’s “high society.”247 An exhibition of his work at

Warsaw’s Krywult Salon in 1903, a few years after Przybyszewski and his wife

attempted and failed to organize a similar one, provoked little enthusiasm. The only

known review of the exhibition, by Helena Ceysingerówna for the women’s magazine

Fashion and Novels Weekly (Tygodnik mód i powieści), was unfavorable. The critic observed that the exhibition would find little success in Poland due to Munch’s technique

246 “Wszyscy malarze dotychczasowi byli malarzami zewnętrznego świata, każde uczucie, które chcieli przedstawić, ubierali najprzód w jakąś akcyę zewnętrzną, każdy nastrój wydobywali pośrednio z zewnętrznego otoczenia. . . . Zjawiska duszy wyrażać przez zewnętrzne zdarzenia – états d’âme przez états de choses, to była dotychczasowa nieprzerwana tradycya, której każdy malarz się trzymał. Z tą tradycyą Munch stanowczo zerwał. Usiłuje on zjawiska duszy bezpośrednio wyrazić farbą. Maluje tak, jak widzieć może tylko naga indywidualność, której oczy odwróciły się od świata zjawisk, i skierowały w głąb własnego istnienia.” Ibid., 577.

247 Władysława Jaworska, “Munch, Przybyszewski” in Kossowski, ed., 32.

107 and subject matter. She claimed his “dreaming temperament is not merely melancholy, but grim – sensitive to pain rather than joy, and to death rather than life. . . . Moreover, being a young artist, Munch neglects drawing and shape, which sometimes makes his work unbearable.”248

Yet, owing to Przybyszewski’s efforts, Munch’s art did set some precedents for

Young Poland artists, most notably Wojciech Weiss. Przybyszewski likewise extolled

Weiss’s art and reproduced a number of his works in the penultimate issue of Life.

Weiss, along with Witold Wojtkiewicz, was among the younger generation of Young

Poland who began to experiment with increasingly expressionistic approaches to style and subject matter. The painter was introduced to Munch’s works by Przybyszewski.

According to art historian Łukasz Kossowski, “Przybyszewski’s writings and Munch’s images would have conveyed a powerful emotional charge, and it is likely that Weiss perceived them as a comprehensive Manichaean and catastrophic vision of the world, in which the individual was at the mercy of the blind forces of nature.”249 Kossowski argues further that Munch’s The Scream (1893), a lithograph of which Przybyszewski owned and wrote about in his Life essay, probably inspired several of Weiss’s Parisian nocturnes, such as Morgue (1900). Meanwhile, his paintings, such as The Fallen Woman

(1899) (which Kossowski asserts is an adaptation of Munch’s The Day After),

Mademoiselle Dimanche (1900), and The Demon (1904), or the drawing for Youth

(reproduced in Life in 1900) (Figure 3), recall the fin-de-siècle themes of contemporary decadence.

248 Quoted in ibid.

249 Łukasz Kossowski, “Totenmesse” in Kossowski, ed., 70.

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According to Kossowski, Weiss’s works also evoke a modernist theme in “the

notion of the metropolis as an artificial creation, which, like ‘an image in a perverse

mirror’, turns back on man in order to decimate and destroy him.”250 Certainly, this theme was pervasive throughout Europe and a ubiquitous characteristic of Symbolism.

In her study of Symbolist artists’ responses to the increased density of urbanism and the attendant problems of pollution and disease, art historian Sharon Hirsch notes the following distinction: “if the Impressionist city was a hub of human interaction, the

Symbolist city is often silent, bare, uninhabited or, worse still, overpopulated by bestial, inhuman, alien crowds.” Artists such as Munch and Weiss increasingly explored this resultant anxiety.251 Weiss’s ability to adopt and interpret for himself the expressionistic

language “invented” by Munch firmly positioned him within a new artistic tradition, thus

signaling for Life’s readers his (and, thereby, Poland’s) inclusion within international

modernism.

In addition to the paintings and graphic art of Munch, Weiss was also inspired by the sculptures of Gustav Vigeland, whose works Przybyszewski enthusiastically lauded and reproduced on the pages of Life and whose relief Hell (1894) (Figure 4) likely inspired several of Weiss’s own crowded compositions, such as Obsession (1900) (Figure

5).252 Przybyszewski’s essay about Vigeland was first published in Die Zeit in March

1896, though only in partial form because editor Hermann Bahr was concerned about

potential Austrian censorship toward the “satanic” interests of Przybyszewski. In fact,

250 Ibid., 71.

251 Sharon L. Hirsch, Symbolism and Modern Urban Society (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2004), 38.

252 However, as Kossowski notes, artist Jacek Malczewski, in paintings such as Melancholia (1894), may also have inspired Weiss’s crowded processional compositions. Kossowski, “Totenmesse,” 74.

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Przybyszewski’s interest in “Satanism” was not indicative of a religious doctrine. Rather,

as Cavanaugh points out, the writer “regarded Satan, whom he associated with lust, as a

symbol of the hidden primeval man.”253 Predating the Freudian conception of the libido,

Przybyszewski declared in the first line of Totenmesse (1893): “Am Anfang war das

Geschlecht.”254

A few months after its appearance in Die Zeit, Przybyszewski’s essay about

Vigeland was published in its entirety in four installments in Berlin’s Die Kritik. In June

of the same year, it also appeared in Czech translation in Moderni Revue, again in four

installments. In the essay, Przybyszewski described the vigor of Vigeland’s work,

including the sculptor’s Hell, a subject inspired by Auguste Rodin’s Gates of Hell, which

he saw in Paris in 1893. The relief features a mass of contorted, sinuous bodies and

despairing faces in a chaotic and claustrophobic procession through Hell. Przybyszewski

emphasized the expressive impact of the work, noting “Around this Satan [of Hell] there rages a swirl of human figures . . . Clamouring hands reach up towards him and grasp frantically at his throne . . . A giant body composed of a hundred hands, heads, legs and torsos, raves in its agony.”255

The articulation of emotion and psychic feeling evident in the works of Munch,

Vigeland, and Weiss was among the attributes that Przybyszewski considered crucial to

253 Cavanaugh, 214. Przybyszewski’s interest in the history of Satanism resulted in his 1897 publication, Synagoge des Satan: Ihre Entstehung, Einrichtung und jetzige Bedeutung.

254 Emphasizing the primordial essence of lust in man, he continues, “Das Geschlecht ist die Grundsubstanz Lebens, der Inhalt der Entwickelung, das innerste Wesen der Individualität. Das Geschlecht ist das ewig Schaffende, das Umgestaltend-Zerstörende.” Przybyszewski, Totenmesse (Berlin: F. Fontane, 1900), 5. Though Totenmesse is, in fact, fictional prose, it was inspired by his love of Dagny and reflected his personal philosophies, akin to À Rebours (1884), which signaled Huysmans’s. In fact, the name of the protagonist of Totenmesse, Certain, a Das Esseintes-type character, was inspired by the title of Huysmans’s art criticism Certains (1889).

255 Quoted in Clegg, “Unterwegs: Stanisław Przybyszewski,” 44.

110 true works of art. Przybyszewski defined his goals for art in a highly charged polemical and programmatic essay titled “Confiteor,” published in Life in January 1899. The essay was particularly significant because it served as the introduction for a new volume of

Life, signifying a “fresh start” for the modernist journal. In the essay, Przybyszewski announced to the periodical’s readers its new direction, in which “art was . . . to become the exclusive medium through which the ‘Soul’ was to find expression.”256 For

Przybyszewski, art could only accomplish this if created for its own sake.

An Art for Art’s Sake

From the first two paragraphs of “Confiteor,” Przybyszewski made his intentions clear: “Art, in our view, is not ‘the beautiful.’ . . . Furthermore, we refuse to recognize any of the countless number of quaint little formulae which estheticians have put forward, beginning with Plato right up to the senile absurdities of Tolstoy.”257 Przybyszewski’s harsh condemnation of Tolstoy undoubtedly referred to the Russian author’s 1898 essay

“What Is Art?” (Chto takoe iskusstvo?), in which he argued that art, as a form of communication, should impart moral values and that in order to accomplish this, it must be comprehensible to the masses, since “good art pleases everyone.”258 However, art that served didactic purposes or imparted ethics or values in any way was anathema to

256 Przybyszewski, “Confiteor,” 39.

257 Ibid., 40-41.

258 Leo N. Tolstoy, What Is Art?, trans. Aylmer Maude (New York: Thomas Y. Crowell, 1899; reprint, Cambridge: Hackett Publishing Company, 1996), 95. For further discussion on Tolstoy’s views on aesthetics, see H.O. Mounce, Tolstoy on Aesthetics: What Is Art? (Burlington, VT: Ashgate, 2001) and Gary R. Jahn, “The Aesthetic Theory of Leo Tolstoy's What Is Art?” The Journal of Aesthetics and Art Criticism 34, no. 1 (Autumn, 1975): 59-65. Ironically, Life reproduced portions of Tolstoy’s essay, translated by Antoni Potocki, in two issues in 1898 (35 and 36-37). This was before Przybyszewski’s tenure and during the transitional period of the journal under the managing editorship of Alfred Wysocki and the chief editorship of Ignacy Sewer Maciejowski.

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Przybyszewski, who admonished most art from the past as “subservient to so-called

morality.”

For Przybyszewski, the art of Young Poland, “recognizes no principles

whatsoever, moral or social.”259 On the contrary, “Art is a re-creation of that which is

eternal, that which is free from all change or contingency, that which is independent of

both time and space. . . . Art re-creates the life of the Soul according to all of its

manifestations, be they good or evil, ugly or beautiful” and, therefore, the artist “need not

focus on any random value that [the Soul’s emanations] may have, just as he may ignore

any random influence, good or evil, that they may exert on man or society.”260 In fact,

Przybyszewski suggested that since art lacked any responsibility to society, since it comprised only the “eternal,” art that reinforced moral or national dictates was, in effect, anti-art. Undoubtedly, Przybyszewski cast himself in the role of the critic who could effectively evaluate “true” art (that is, art rooted entirely on subjectivist criteria) because he considered his own literary oeuvre reflective of its tenets.

Indeed, Przybyszewski (who frequently challenged taboos and mores in his own works) derided artists who forsook the pure call of art – a medium that should reflect the soul – to seek mass approval. “Any artist who lets himself bow to the demands of a particular society,” Przybyszewski contended, “is only flattering its palate and providing it with a form of chewed-up cud. . . I forget that I speak of the artist; I began to talk about the humble, hard-working ox.”261 In this, Przybyszewski seemed to adopt the ideas of

259 Przybyszewski, “Confiteor,” 41.

260 Ibid.

261 Ibid., 43.

112 the British aestheticism, as in poet Algernon Charles Swinburne’s study of William

Blake, originally published in 1866, in which the former professed, “Handmaid of religion, exponent of duty, servant of fact, pioneer of morality, [art] cannot in any way become. . . . [Art’s] business is not to do good on other grounds, but to be good on her own.”262 The endorsement for art for art’s sake, while not disregarded in Life under the previous editors, became significantly more prevalent under Przybyszewski, who published the works of several of its exponents, including Baudelaire, Flaubert, Edgar

Allan Poe, Oscar Wilde, and Swinburne.

Swinburne’s own assertions about art for art’s sake also owed much to Theophile

Gautier’s conception of l’art pour art. Gautier likewise railed against utilitarian art, claiming, “there is nothing truly beautiful but that which can never be of any use whatsoever; everything useful is ugly, for it is the expression of some need, and man’s needs are ignoble and disgusting like his own poor and infirm nature. The most useful place in a house is the water-closet.”263 However, whereas Gautier still maintained the necessity of the beautiful, for Przybyszewski, beauty and art were not mutually inclusive, which is where he differed most conspicuously with his friend and Chimera editor,

Przesmycki.

Przybyszewski’s rejection of beauty may seem contradictory to his espousal of

“art for art’s sake,” a term slowly replaced by “Aestheticism,” which is semantically

262 Algernon Charles Swinburne, William Blake: A Critical Essay, new ed. (London: Chatto & Windus, 1906), 99.

263 Theophile Gautier, “Preface” in Mademoiselle de Maupin (New York: The Heritage Press, 1944), xxx.

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indicative of concerns with beauty.264 In fact, Przybyszewski did not completely deny

the goals of Aestheticism or beauty. Rather, the writer strongly disagreed with the idea

that art necessitated beauty. Furthermore, his resistance to defining standards of beauty corresponded to Swinburne’s and critic Walter Pater’s own hesitation.

Though Przybyszewski’s essay adopted elements of art for art’s sake, his approach toward art also indicated his admiration for Nietzsche, whom he wrote about in

1893 in a series of essays titled “Zur Psychologie des Individuums.” Przybyszewski’s ideas about the primordial essence of man, which should be manifested in art, reinforced the German philosopher’s rejection of materialism and espousal of a Dionysian concept

of the world based on unbridled feelings and emotions. As art historian Shearer West

points out, in Thus Spoke Zarathustra (1883-91), Nietzsche “expressed his desire for an

Übermensch . . . in the form of an artist who would be able to cut through the morass of modern morality, laws and conventions to produce work that had genuine spiritual intensity.”265 Przybyszewski, in fact, wrote about “true” art in religious terms – the artist

was the “high priest” of the “supreme religion” of art.266 As art historian Oskar

Bätschmann notes, the idea of artist as priest-seer pervaded Europe by the end of the

nineteenth century.267 Certainly, the concept was evident in such artistic movements as

the Nabis and the Rose + Croix. Furthermore, the priest-seer notion reinforced the idea

264 For a discussion about the differences between “art for art’s sake” and “Aestheticism” versus “aestheticism” see Elizabeth Prettejohn’s introduction to After the Pre-Raphaelites: Art and Aestheticism in Victorian England, ed. Elizabeth Prettejohn (New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press, 1999).

265 Shearer West, The Visual Arts in Germany, 1890-1937: Utopia and Despair (New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press, 2000), 60.

266 Przybyszewski, “Confiteor,” 42.

267 Bätschmann, 162.

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that artists had more important tasks than disseminating patriotic sentiments. Instead, the

priest-seer/artist revealed truths that most people could not perceive due to their inability to rise above material concerns.

Edward Boyé also connects the sentiments of “Confiteor” to German

Romanticism, whose exponents similarly divinized the artist and poet. According to

Boyé, Przybyszewski’s essay recalled Johann Gottlieb Fichte, a German philosopher of the late-eighteenth and early-nineteenth centuries, who argued that knowledge of the

“real” world outside of oneself was impossible, and, therefore, that it is fruitless to imitate reality since “the creative human spirit is the world’s sole axis.”268 Przybyszewski

echoed this idea in his own philosophy, predicated upon the idea that “tangible reality is deceptive and fallacious, and the intellect and senses are not instruments of knowledge.”269

Other Romantic philosophers, in particular the German philosophers Friedrich

Wilhelm Joseph von Schelling, Novalis, and Friedrich von Schlegel, agreed with Fichte’s

assertion of the self as center of the world but argued that Fichte did not go far enough.

Instead, they “pushed the cult of the creative individual to the limits and identified it with

God.”270 Again, Przybyszewski’s essay borrows from German Romanticism in his own

divinization of the artist – though the Polish writer viewed the artist as a magician and

prophet rather than philosopher-artist, as the Romantics asserted.271 This sanctification

of the artist gave him, and the critic who “understood” and could evaluate his images, the

268 Boyé, 30.

269 Jaworska, “Edvard Munch and Stanislaw Przybyszewski,” 313.

270 “[Oni] posunęli kult jednostki twórczej do ostatnich krańców i utożsamili ją z Bogiem.” Boyé, 32.

271 Ibid., 42.

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power to foster the public’s spiritual evolution (after all, Przybyszewski cast art in a

religious light).

For Przybyszewski, “Art is absolute,” obliged to serve only itself and the artist’s

soul; therefore, it could not be subservient to any ideas or values.272 Przybyszewski

argued stridently against art that imposed any message:

Tendentious art, didactic art, art-as-entertainment, art-as-patriotism—any art which has some sort of moral or social objective, ceases to be art and becomes simply a ‘biblia pauperum’ for the people who are unable to think or are too poorly educated to be able to read the proper texts. Traveling teachers are what these people need, not art. To influence society in a didactic or moral way, to instill patriotism or social instincts through the use of art, means to debase art.273

Such condemnation for moralizing and edifying art was not only a direct affront to conservative critics such as Szczepanowski, who called for an art both beautiful and

patriotically uplifting, but to Tolstoy’s insistence that “if art fails to move men, it cannot

be said that this is due to the spectators’ or hearers’ lack of understanding, but . . . that

such art is either bad or is not art at all.”274 On the contrary, the art extolled by Tolstoy,

which was comprehensible to the masses, was, for Przybyszewski, “democratic art, an art

for the people” that “stands even lower” than didactic art. “Bread is what the people

need, not art . . . To remove art from its pedestal and then drag it through every

marketplace and street is sacrilege.”275 This view was one previously expressed in the

German Pan (the formation with which Przybyszewski was involved). In fact, in the first

issue of Pan, in April 1895, the editors outlined their goals in creating “a purely artistic

272 Przybyszewski, “Confiteor,”42.

273 Ibid.

274 Tolstoy, 96-7.

275 Przybyszewski, “Confiteor,” 42.

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publication that is not guided by the wishes of the general public.”276 Likewise,

Przybyszewski sought to separate himself and Life’s attuned readers from the unenlightened public, impossible to accomplish if Life centered upon a national (and, thus, cohesive) identity.

To the criticism that modern Polish artists’ works lacked patriotism,

Przybyszewski countered that artists were inextricably linked to their nation through their

“race” – an innate character of the human being – not their political expression. He argued that “to accuse the artist . . . of a lack of feeling for his nation, is a stupid absurdity, for in him is invested most strongly the ‘essential’ internal spirit of the nation.”277 As discussed in Chapter 1, national identity was no longer tied to a work’s

content but solely to its creator. No matter what or how he painted (or wrote), the work

remained Polish because the artist or writer was a Pole.278 Moreover, “art is

metaphysical,”279 and therefore precludes any nationalistic content.

In fact, Przybyszewski had previously asserted the necessity of the separation of

art and values, when he defended himself against anti-patriotic accusations in an 1896

letter to writer Maciej Szukiewicz:

I am a Pole in blood and soul. I love the Polish nation more than anything, but in respect to art, I do not know what nation and mankind signify. I write in German, because it is a language known throughout Europe, but the handful of people, who read and understand [my work], is scattered through all of Europe.280

276 Quoted in Beth Irwin Lewis, Art for All? The Collision of Modern Art and the Public in Late-Nineteenth Century Germany (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2003), 269.

277 Przybyszewski, “Confiteor,” 44.

278 See Brzyski “Modern Art and Nationalism” and “Between the Nation and the World.”

279 Przybyszewski, “Confiteor,” 44.

280 “Jestem Polakiem krwią i duszą. Kocham naród polski nade wszystko, ale pod względem sztuki nie wiem, co naród lub ludzkość znaczy. Piszę po niemiecku, bo to język znany w całej Europie, a ta garstka

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Language serves as strong national identifier within many theories of nationalism.

Thus, did his writing in German undermine his Polish identity? Not necessarily. If he

had written exclusively in his national language, Przybyszewski’s work would have made significantly less impact in Europe, since Polish writers rarely achieved fame outside of their own country. By writing in German (or French or English), a Polish writer inserted himself more readily within international modernism. Furthermore, Przybyszewski remained Polish irrespective of his language, the content of his work, or the city in which he lived because Polish identity was inherent in him, not in his writing. Art and literature were completely removed from this identification.

New Goals for Life

According to Boyé, among the editor’s essential contributions was the “deep

truth” that “the highest poetry is poetry [that is] common to humanity, poetry that does

not end behind this or that border since it expresses the ‘entire person,’ capturing the

thoughts and feelings common to each human soul and heart.”281 In place of “poetry,” we can substitute “art.” That is, the art promoted in Life was truly international (in that it sought to transcend not only provincialism but also a limiting nationalism) and truly modern (for Przybyszewski, art that was self-validating, serving only itself). Boyé considers “Confiteor” a credo for an entire generation of young artists and writers who

ludzi, która mnie czyta i rozumie, rozrzucona po całej Europie.” Quoted in Józef Dynak, Przybyszewski: Dzieje legendy i autolegendy (Wrocław: Towarzystwo Przyjaciół Polonistyki Wrocławskiej, 1994), 39.

281 “Najwyższą poezją jest poezja ogólnoludzka, poezja, która nie kończy się za tą lub ową granicą, albowiem wyraża ‘całego człowieka’, podchwytując myśli i uczucia wspólne każdej duszy i sercu ludzkiemu.” Boyé, 16.

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refused to “[drag] art off its pedestal” and who fought a committed battle “against art as

entertainment and against limiting the artist’s creative rights.”282

Continuing his appeal for the creation of a “new art,” Przybyszewski reinforced

several of the themes introduced in “Confiteor” in his essay “Concerning ‘New’ Art.” He

reprised, for example, art’s goal in transcending mere reality: “Beyond this narrow and

small consciousness, beyond this conscious I, beyond all that must be sufficient for us in

everyday life . . . hides an immense, transcendental consciousness of every state that the

soul has experienced.”283 For Przybyszewski, the true artist possessed the ability to “see”

the experiences of the soul beyond the average person’s Ego, to borrow Freud’s term.

Przybyszewski argued that:

the representative of the new art completely turns his back to what is ‘external’ as something accidental, mutable . . . he grasps in his soul things that cannot be captured by words; he seeks beyond the illusory image – that is, [beyond] so- called reality – for the delicate network of impulses, influences, unclear images, things unformulated by logic; . . . in a word, he not will let himself be deceived by consciousness, and seeks all causes outside of it. . . . The [‘old’] artist reproduced ‘things’, the ‘new’ artist reproduces the state of his soul; the former, believing in their objectivity, arranged things and impressions [exactly] as they flowed to his brain; the latter, on the contrary, reproduces only the feelings that these things evoke.” 284

282 Ibid., 30.

283 “Po za tą ciasną i małą świadomością, po za tem świadomem Ja, po za tem wszystkiem, czem w zwykłem życiu starczyć musimy . . . kryje się olbrzymia, transcendentalna świadomość wszystkich stanów, jakie dusza dotychczas przeżyła.” Przybyszewski, “O ‘Nową’ Sztukę,” Z 3, 6 (1899): 102. Although Przybyszewski’s theories relate somewhat the concept of the Freudian unconscious before Freud himself popularized them, the Polish writer’s ideas (specifically in the above quote) can also be viewed as proto- Jungian, in their anticipation of the collective unconscious.

284 “Przedstawiciel nowej sztuki całkiem odwraca się od tego ‘zewnątrz’, jako od rzeczy przypadkowej, zmiennej . . . chwyta w swej duszy rzeczy słowem nie ujęte, szuka po za złudnym obrazem t.z. rzeczywistości całą drobniuteńką sieć pobudek, wpływów, obrazów niejasnych, rzeczy nie sformułowanych logiką, . . . jednym słowem nie da się mamić świadomości, a wszystkich przyczyn szuka po za jej obrębem. . . . Twórca znany odtwarzał ‘rzeczy’, twórca ‘nowy’ odtwarza swój stan duszy; tamten porządkował rzeczy i wrażenia, tak jak do jego mózgu wpływały, wierząc w ich objektywność, ten przeciwnie odtwarza tylko uczucia, jakie te rzeczy wywołują.” Ibid.

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Therefore, he characterized all art created until that point under the umbrella of

“realism,” in the sense that artists and writers looked to an “objective” reality. For

Przybyszewski, perfection came only by ignoring reality and turning inward to one’s

soul.285 Moreover, only the artist and the perceptive critic, not the broad public, could

appraise the final work.

The Death of Life

In the penultimate issue, Life once again reaffirmed its program as Przybyszewski

noted the journal’s unprecedented importance to Polish culture in introducing to readers

new movements in literature (and art). According to the editorial statement, “Before now, devoting a publication to pure art was not permitted in Poland – [so] we sought it abroad, we read foreign publications, and anyone who wanted to become informed about the development of art had to turn to foreign sources.”286 With the creation of Life, such

“foreign sources” were no longer the sole means of information about European

modernism. The editor maintained that his considerable focus on foreign art and

literature generated awareness among younger Polish artists of the arts’ myriad

possibilities, while these foreign models served as inspiration, not sources of imitation,

for Polish works. The editor expressed confidence that “Polish society will support the

good-will and genuinely patriotic desire . . . to elevate Polish literature to the heights of

European art and to proudly include . . . Life among the foreign publications that we

285 Ibid., 103.

286 “Dotychczas nie wolno było w Polscę, poświęcać pisma czystej sztuce – szukaliśmy jej za granicą, czytaliśmy obce pisma, a każdy, kto się chciał poinformować o rozwoju sztuki, musiał się do obcych udawać.” Redakcya, introduction to Z 4, 1 (1900): np.

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previously relied upon for information concerning events in the East and the West,” which Life sought to merge.287

Yet despite its lofty goals, like many journals and little magazines of the period,

Life was plagued with financial problems and inadequate subscribers. Each issue cost 25

ct, with a quarterly subscription of 2.60 złr (złoty reński). Life published only 1000

copies per issue, with an additional 100 issues printed on luxury paper. Because its

readers were primarily members of the intelligentsia, the publication never gained a

sufficient number of subscribers. The sum of regular subscribers by the end of the second

quarter was 560. In the following months, it decreased to 400. In Poznań, there were

some 60 subscribers, but in Warsaw, where Life may have seen a greater increase in

subscriptions, there existed no circulation right for foreign publications because of the

Russian Empire’s increased Russification practices.

In addition to subscriptions, the journal relied on occasional private support. Still,

sustaining the costs of the journal proved an incessant problem. By end of the third

quarter, for example, Szczepański could no longer cover Life’s deficits, and in May 1898,

transferred its financial responsibilities to Sewer-Maciejowski, who briefly supported the journal with his own funds.288 When Przybyszewski took over in October 1898, he too

found it difficult to maintain the publication’s finances. Though he served as the journal’s

editor until its end, by 1899, Przybyszewski sought the financial assistance of two

287 “Wierzyć, że społeczeństwo polskie dobrą wolę i prawdziwie patryotyczne pragnienie poprzeć zechce – pragnienie, by literaturę polską postawić na wyżynie ogólno-europejskiej sztuki, by obok pism obcych, w których dotychczas zasięgaliśmy informacyj co się dzieje na Wschodzie lub Zachodzie, można z dumą postawić pismo polskie: ‘Życie’.” Ibid.

288 Czachowska, 237.

121 publishers, including Stanisław Wyrzykowski, who assumed his post in January, and

Stanisław Brzozowski, who came on board in July.289

In addition to a lack of funding, Life also suffered from censorial confiscations. In the 15 March 1899 issue, Przybyszewski announced that the previous issue had been seized by the Imperial and Royal Procurator because of his article on the history of

Satanism, which the censor allegedly found blasphemous.290 Przybyszewski

“vehemently” objected to this confiscation and noted that he would not finish his series on Satanism’s intellectual development.291 Ultimately, the censorship and financial troubles led to the journal’s bankruptcy. The last page of the February 1900 issue featured a single sentence about the periodical’s demise: “Forced by difficult financial conditions, we are suspending the publication for now, in the hopes of resuming it anew

289 The last year of Life saw several publishing and editorial changes as financial problems mounted. In addition to Wyrzykowski and Brzozowski, Józef Jasieński (publisher), Władysław Jaroszewski (publisher), Antoni Procajłowicz (artistic director), and, with the final two issues in 1900, Zenon Przesmycki (editor), all contributed to the journal’s publication. Przesmycki, who would soon publish Chimera, was in contact with the editors of Life from its onset. Even during the planning stages of the unrealized Wiosna, Szczepański wrote to Przesmycki in hopes that he would contribute to the journal and serve as its representative in Paris, where Przesmycki lived at the time. Hoping to convince Przesmycki, Szczepański maintained the latter would “hav[e] a completely free hand [and remain] independent in every way.” See letter to Przesmycki of 29 May 1896 in Zyga, ed., “Materiały do genezy i powstania krakowskiego ‘Życia,’” 199. When plans for Life were well underway, Szczepański continued writing to Przesmycki, urging him to submit poetry and “letters from Paris.” Ibid.

290 Przybyszewski, “Oświadczenie,” Z 3, 6 (1899): 120. His article was actually reproduced in issue 4 of volume 3, not issue 5. A similar confiscation occurred for issue 7 in 1899, owing to the reproduction of a fragment of Vigeland’s Hell. Although subscribers would not have received these issues, all were not destroyed. The editors announced their intention to retain these issues within an archive “so that posterity . . . will have critical material for the study of the development of art in Poland.” Redakcya ‘Życia’, “Od Redakcyi,” Z 3, 8 (1899): np. I had access to the cited issues on microfilm at the University of Pittsburgh but also viewed examples in Polish collections in which images were clearly censored, having been blotted out with black ink.

291 Of course, that he was able to object vehemently speaks much to the relatively free environment of Galicia. He surely would not have been able protest so publicly in the Russian partition of Poland.

122 at the beginning of fall.”292 This, of course, never occurred, and the issue served as Life’s last.293

292 “Zmuszeni trudnymi warunkami materyalnymi, zawieszamy na czas pewien nasze wydawnictwo, w tej jednak nadziei, że z początkiem jesieni podejmiemy je na nowo.” “Od Wydawnictwa,” Z 4, 2-3 (1900): 88.

293 After the demise of Life, Przybyszewski spent seven months in Lwów (from June to December 1900) before moving with Dagny to Warsaw, where he remained until early 1905. In 1906, he returned to Germany, finally settling in Munich.

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Chapter 3

Life’s Visual Program: From Tropes to “Personalities”

Introduction

From the outset, Life featured both original illustrations and reproductions of works of art. However, as editorial changes occurred, the visual layout of the journal, the artists chosen, and the types of works represented transformed dramatically. These changes were largely attributable to the introduction of artistic directors – Górski’s and

Sewer-Maciejowski’s appointment of Wyczółkowski and Przybyszewski’s appointment of Wyspiański – who began incorporating significantly more visual art. The visual format and layout of the journal also drew increasing attention from the artistic directors, who focused upon the harmony between text and image and upon the legibility of the page.

Additionally, the tastes and theoretical approaches of the editors themselves greatly affected the works and artists included in Life. When Przybyszewski assumed the editorship, he not only introduced readers to a number of foreign artists who hitherto received relatively little attention in the Polish press, but he also focused exclusively on artists whose works went “beyond the illusory image.”294 Under Przybyszewski, key

Polish and foreign “personalities” drove the journal’s visual direction, reflecting the

editor’s elevation of artistic identity.

Przybyszewski clearly publicized specific Polish and foreign artists, whose works,

though not necessarily stylistically or thematically similar, achieved the revelation of the

“naked soul.” This was a significant change from the previous editors, who were less

294 As in n285 in chapter 2.

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concerned with the “internal” states of the artist. Rather, they gravitated toward

particular tropes, most noticeably those of the idealized female, nostalgic landscape, and

allegory. This chapter investigates the major visual and thematic shifts in Life’s artistic

program, while also introducing the two central figures – Wyczółkowski and Wyspiański

– who changed the visual layout and format of the journal.

Artistic Direction of Life: From Szczepański to Wyczółkowski

Wyczółkowski as Artistic Editor

Among one of the key members of Young Poland, Leon Wyczółkowski, like

many of his contemporaries, received a varied artistic education and traveled widely. In

1869, he entered the Warsaw Drawing School and studied under the artists Antoni

Kamiński, Rafał Hadziewicz, and Wojciech Gerson. In 1875, he moved to Munich to

study with Alexander Wagner before returning to Poland in 1877, when he sought the

tutelage of Matejko at Krakow’s School of Fine Arts. In 1878, Wyczółkowski traveled to

Paris, where he discovered the paintings of the Impressionists. He was drawn especially

to the works of Renoir as well as the Belgian painter Alfred Stevens. In the following

year, the painter moved to Lwów but soon returned to Warsaw. He lived in Warsaw until

1883, when he relocated to the Ukraine, remaining there until 1894. The Ukrainian

landscape contributed to a drastic change in his style, and Wyczółkowski claimed, “It

was there that I was renewed and where I cast aside academic influences.”295

For the 25 December 1897 issue of Life, the Vienna-based Polish sculptor and art

historian Roman Lewandowski wrote an essay praising Wyczółkowski’s talent and

295 “Tam odnowiłem i zrzuciłem z siebie wpływy akademii.” Quoted in Krzysztofowicz-Kozakowska, Sztuka Młodej Polski, 77. Date of quote not provided.

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individuality. Lewandowski particularly noted the artist’s stylistic transformation,

apparent in his Ukrainian paintings from about 1890, when light became a striking

feature. For Lewandowski, Wyczółkowski’s increased focus on light signaled the

growing European direction introduced by French Impressionism, which had a

tremendous impact upon Polish painting in 1890. It was in that year the artists

Podkowiński and Pankiewicz returned from Paris and exhibited their Impressionist- inspired paintings.296 According to Lewandowski, around the same time:

Wyczółkowski transported [‘the sun’] from some place in the Ukraine and presented it in several paintings of fishermen. And [it was] here [that] he finally found himself. In these paintings there was nature, the sun with all of its burning heat, uniqueness, [and] truth. . . . I do not know how and where the artist could have been influenced by this new direction in European art; in any case, he was influenced in a positive manner.297

Certainly, in addition to his Ukrainian travels, Wyczółkowski’s trip to Paris in 1889,

when he saw Monet’s solo exhibition at Galerie Georges Petit, contributed to his growing

interest in light and painterly effects. In fact, Impressionism served as an important

marker of modernism, allowing Polish artists to contribute to a distinctly modern

European style. As Anna Brzyski points out, by the 1890s, “in the process of shedding

its negative associations, impressionism was gradually domesticated; it transformed in

296 For a discussion of the artists’ incorporation of and the critical reception to Impressionism, see Brzyski, “Foreign or Native.”

297 “Przywiózł je równocześnie gdzieś z Ukrainy i Wyczółkowski w kilku obrazach przedstawiających rybołowstwo. I tutaj dopiero znalazł sam siebie. W obrazach tych była natura, było słońce z całym swoim piekącym żarem, była charakterystyka, była prawda. . . . Nie wiem w jaki sposób i gdzie potrafił artysta ten przejąć się tym nowym zwrotem w sztuce europejskiej, w każdym razie przejął się wpływem dodatnim.” Lewandowski, “Współcześni malarze polscy: Leon Wyczółkowski,” Z 1, 14 (1897): 4. Lewandowski also reported about the Viennese artworld for Life. In an essay entitled “As I See It,” for example, he praised the use of color in the works of Max Slevogt and the symbolism and decorative elements of posters by Alphonse Mucha (whose works were recently exhibited in Vienna). He also urged Krakowians to familiarize themselves with the paintings of Franz von Stuck, who Lewandowski viewed as the creator of a new renaissance. St[anisław] R[oman] Lewandowski, “Jak widzę” Z 1, 13 (1897): 7.

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the eyes of Polish critics from a foreign phenomenon into a Polish one, representing . . . a natural and universal tendency within contemporary European art.”298

Soon after his appointment to Life’s artistic directorship and beginning with the

18 June 1898 issue, Wyczółkowski instituted several major changes to the journal’s

visual format.299 The former editor, Szczepański, seemed to grasp little about how the

layout of a page contributed to visual cohesion. Wyczółkowski, however, attended to

each component of the page, considering how the text, images, and line breaks might

create a more unified composition. Among his changes was the introduction of a

significantly less crowded format for text. That is, under Szczepański, the page was often

broken up into two sections, a common format in Polish periodicals. The top section

contained one particular text and the bottom section, separated from its neighbor by a

black border, encompassed a completely different text that often continued onto the

following page (Figure 6). Wyczółkowski’s changes resulted in more visual continuity.

He enhanced each page’s overall legibility by altering the textual format from three

columns to two and by maintaining continuous texts (Figure 7). The size of the journal

changed as well, though it is unclear whether Wyczółkowski or one of the editors

modified this aspect. Beginning with the 4 June 1898 issue, Life decreased from a rather

cumbersome 29 by 41 cm to a more manageable 35 by 32 cm.

Under Szczepański, each title page included a decorative vignette often

incorporating the title of the journal. A total of twenty-three unique vignettes appeared

298 Brzyski, “Foreign or Native,” 83.

299 Wyczółkowski served as artistic editor only from June to September 1898.

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during his editorship (Figure 8).300 The title illustrations, which featured mostly the work

of Young Poland artists, were Szczepański's greatest contribution to the artistic program

of Life, and after his editorship ceased, so too did the changing vignettes.301 In their place, Wyczółkowski and the new editors introduced a cover for each issue. This cover, which featured a drawing by artist Teodor Axentowicz, remained unaltered throughout

1898, even into Przybyszewski’s editorial transformations (Figure 19).302 Meanwhile, in

lieu of a title vignette, the title page now included a simple textual header indicating the

name of the journal (in a font of Wyczółkowski’s design), pricing information, and table

of contents (Figure 9).

Though he eliminated Life’s illustrative title vignettes, Wyczółkowski actually

increased the overall amount of art therein. Like Szczepański, Wyczółkowski continued

to promote chiefly the art of Young Poland, though he also reproduced works by a few

foreign artists, such as Edward Burne-Jones. Wyczółkowski also amplified the sheer

space dedicated to art. The journal’s illustrative content was no longer predominantly

limited to ornamental vignettes. Instead, Wyczółkowski featured reproductions of works

of art, primarily paintings, occupying anywhere from a third to a whole page (Figure 10).

No doubt, the rising focus on art stemmed from Wyczółkowski’s position as a visual

300 A number of these title vignettes were repeated in multiple issues.

301 Polish artists who contributed title vignettes included Wyspiański, Henryk Rauchinger (who created the first title vignette), Teofil Terlecki, K. Mańkowski, Teodor Axentowicz, Bolesław Nitecki, Mehoffer, Antoni Stanisław Procajłowicz, A. Markowicz, Fałat, Antoni Kurzawa, Józef Czajkowski, Ephraim Moses Lilien, and Marian Trzebiński. Foreign artists included Karel Hlaváček and Josef Václav Myslbek (both Czech).

302 The sole exception was the 2 July 1898 cover, which featured a portrait drawing. I have not been able to ascertain who executed the drawing, since the artist was not identified. The subject, however, is probably Adam Mickiewicz, since several essays about the poet appeared in the same issue. 1898 was the one- hundred-year anniversary of his birth.

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artist, while Szczepański, a writer, was more familiar with and conversant about trends in

literature.

Recurring Themes in Life

Despite Wyczółkowski’s and Szczepański’s different approaches to visual layout,

a number of recurring themes – specifically, the idealized female, nostalgic landscape,

and allegory – emerged under the direction of both men. Although these themes do not

constitute the totality of Life’s illustrative content and should not be considered absolute

categories, they are strikingly pervasive throughout its pages. Each theme, perhaps better

termed “trope,” had appeared in art for centuries and thereby was in no way unique to the

journal. However, within the context of Life, these tropes manifested the Symbolist, and

thus modernist, device of “turning traditional stories [and motifs] . . . into sagas of ideas

rather than action.” 303

According to Sharon Hirsch, in Symbolist art “plots are suspended as one image

from a story is frozen in time, while presentation of protagonists is altered to offer new

interpretations of character or meaning.”304 In the Krakow journal, this approach is

apparent as artists invested “traditional” motifs, such as motherhood or landscape, with new meaning by experimenting with subject matter while still producing works with

implicit Polish meaning. Furthermore, the journal’s artists often adopted the visual

language of Art Nouveau. Like Symbolism, Art Nouveau was distinctly modern, though the style lent itself more to experimentation with form rather than subject matter.

303 Hirsch, 8.

304 Ibid.

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Moreover, it was a truly international movement, influencing artists in France, Spain,

Germany, Austria, as well as Poland. Adopted more by graphic artists than painters, the

style, according to scholar Alistair Duncan, was typified by “simplification of form, the

flattening of space, the evocative power of the undulating line and its affinity for

symbolism.”305

In Krakow, artists were associated especially with Sezessionstil, the Austrian

variant of Art Nouveau. In fact, several Young Poland artists joined the Vienna

Secession and participated in its exhibitions. Julian Fałat and Kazimierz Pochwalski were

among its original members (in 1897), while Wyspiański became a member later the

same year.306 As part of the Viennese Secession, Polish artists identified as not just Poles

but also as Austrians.307 In the first two Secession exhibitions, for example, Polish works

were interspersed throughout rather than grouped together. “This mixed arrangement,”

Brzyski argues, “emphasized the international character of modern art and the

heterogeneous character of Austrian culture. It suggested not only affinity and equality

305 Alastair Duncan, Art Nouveau (London: Thames and Hudson, 1994), 79.

306 Anna Brzyski, “’Unsere Polen . . .’: Polish Artists and the Vienna Secession, 1897-1903” in Art, Culture, and National Identity in Fin-de-Siècle Europe, eds. Michelle Facos and Sharon L. Hirsh (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2003), 86. As noted by Brzyski, other Poles who joined the Secession included Axentowicz, Dębicki, Malczewski, Wyczółkowski, Mehoffer, Stanisławski, Wacław Szymanowski, and Tetmajer in 1897; Biegas in 1901; Laszczka, Weiss, and Ślewiński in 1906; Stefan Filipkiewicz in 1907; Władysław Jarocki, Alfons Karpiński, and Jan Talga in 1910; and Stanisław Kamocki in 1911.

307 This changed in 1902, when “Sztuka” exhibited as a distinctly Polish group at that year’s Vienna Secession. Twenty-three artists exhibited, though only seven were members of the Secession and though several members did not hold Austrian citizenship.

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between Austrian and international modernism, but also among artists within the

Secession.”308

An editorial in the first issue of Ver Sacrum in 1898 accentuated the international

quality of Austrian works while maintaining their uniqueness: “We desire an art not enslaved to foreigners, but at the same time without fear or hatred of the foreign. The art of abroad should act upon us as an incentive to reflect upon ourselves; we want to recognize it, admire it, if it deserves our admiration; all we do not want to do is imitate it.”309 This quote, in fact, is reminiscent of Górski’s defense of Young Poland, in which he acknowledged the influence of foreign sources, while professing that this influence did not preclude or inhibit a distinct Polish character.310

Brzyski argues that “in order to be competitive within the art (historic) Olympics,

a nation had to demonstrate that its national art had an independent history that extended

from the remote past to the present and that its national school led or at least kept pace

with what was perceived to be the general development of art.”311 She contends that artists were compelled to adopt a modern style to sustain any level of significance within the European art world.312 The same could be said of Polish modernist journals. That is,

to enter the realm of the modernist periodical à la Ver Sacrum or even Moderni revue, the

308 Brzyski, “Unsere Polen,” 70. Polish critics, as Brzyski notes, tended to consider the Vienna exhibitions as exponents of a larger European trend of international modernism rather than “a reflection of Austrian national pluralism.” Ibid., 72.

309 Quoted in Peter Vergo, Art in Vienna 1989-1918 (London: Phaidon, 1993): 26.

310 “And if we pay particular attention to the West, we do just what other nations do: we take from their literature what can useful for us, but that which is alien and harmful to us we reject like a squeezed lemon.” As in n232 in chapter 2.

311 Brzyski, “The Problem of Modernism,” 351.

312 See her discussion about the artistic adoption of Impressionism in Poland. Ibid., 356.

131 editors had to include works that they perceived as distinctly modern, which, for these editors and artists, meant Symbolist approaches to subject matter and the formal elements of Art Nouveau. In the three following sections, I analyze several of Life’s recurrent tropes to interrogate the journal’s visual program under Szczepański and Wyczółkowski and to illustrate how Life attempted to reconcile art that was both national and modern.

The Idealized Female

According to art historian Patricia Mathews:

The Symbolists’ ‘passionate discontent’ with contemporary cultural values and social conditions informed every facet of their aesthetic. They were determined to replace what they considered to be a corrupt bourgeois value system with their more spiritually attuned, highly idealistic, mystical, and transcendent aesthetic.313

Fin-de-siècle artists frequently adopted the image of the femme fatale to serve as a warning about women’s dangerous sexuality and the repercussions of female liberation, which they perceived as an increasing “problem” by the end of the nineteenth century.

The femme fatale essentially embodied male Symbolist artists’ fears and their

“passionate discontent” about changing gender roles in society, typified by the rise of the

“New Woman.” However, what is immediately apparent about Life, under both

Szczepański and Wyczółkowski, is the relative lack of the femme fatale image. Instead, images of women more frequently represent the idealized woman, stripped of all

“dangerous” sexuality and carnality.

Like the femme fatale, the trope of the “good woman” was a common motif for the Symbolists, who “use[d] the female body as desexualized vessel to symbolize either

313 Patricia Mathews, Passionate Discontent: Creativity, Gender, and French Symbolist Art (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1999), 5.

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the pure, sexually ‘innocent’ woman in contrast with the femme fatale or the ideal of non-

threatening, pastoral sexuality rooted in nostalgic images of the Classical past.”314 The

“good” or “pure” woman represented the direct antithesis to the femme fatale: the virgin of the virgin/whore dichotomy.

Among the artists who adopted this idealized feminine image was Wyspiański.

For example, the artist contributed a vignette of a classically dressed woman, whose form flanks the left portion of the title page in the second issue of Life (Figure 11). In the drawing, the woman rests her elbow on a “ledge,” in actuality a line that separates the title from the page’s text. Her face is completely placid, her robes a virginal white, and her pose unthreatening. Rather than casting her in the role of a historical individual or an identifiable allegorical figure, Wyspiański emphasized her “feminine” traits of virtue, grace, and beauty. “Overseeing” the text below, she appears as if a muse.

In another work, Caritas, Wyspiański conflated the image of the allegorical virtue of charity or love and of the Polish peasant into the forms of two young girls (Figure 12).

In this scene, a young girl dressed in peasant attire hugs to her body another young girl.

The former clearly personifies Caritas, usually depicted as an adult woman clasping young children. According to Jan Cavanaugh, Wyspiański “was fascinated with the innocence and absence of artifice found in children, qualities they were thought to share with peasants.”315 Furthermore, Wyspiański’s portrayal of the two young girls stressed

women’s “innate” maternal nature, which ostensibly manifested itself from girlhood. In

fact, Wyspiański repeatedly painted images of motherly love, such as his pastel Maternity

314 Ibid., 114.

315 Cavanaugh, 144.

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(1905) (Figure 13), that highlighted women’s nurturing roles as their primary raison

d’être.

What may have contributed, even if unconsciously, to Wyspiański’s accent upon the female protective and loving disposition was the concept of the “Polish Mother”

(Matka Polka). A Polish woman was “responsible for producing sons and soldiers for the nation and upholding Polish culture and language at home. During the uprising era, gender division reflected national strategy: men fought for Polish independence and mothers and wives supported them.”316 Within the Polish Mother trope, women’s

maternal and national roles went hand-in-hand. It was no accident that she assumed

many of the attributes of the Catholic Virgin Mary, since “images of nation as Madonna

equate femininity with chastity and asexual maternity.”317 Woman, therefore, often

symbolized Poland’s future, and Wyspiański’s images indicate how national values

remained implicit in some Young Poland art.

The idea of woman as instinctively maternal also contributed to the connection of

woman with Nature, which is inherently uncontrollable yet also nurturing. In Henryk

Rauchinger’s title vignette for the inaugural issue, for example, a beautiful young woman

scatters seeds across a large, empty field (Figure 8). Yet, this is not the woman of a

Millet painting, for example, in which poor, unsentimental female workers toil in the countryside. Rauchinger’s woman is ethereal, her white dress spotless and unsoiled, her movements effortless and gliding. In fact, she should be viewed as a metaphor for

316 Malgorzata Fidelis, “‘Participation in the Creative Work of the Nation’: Polish Women Intellectuals in the Cultural Construction of Female Gender Roles, 1864-1890,” Journal of Women's History 13, no. 1 (2001): 111. For a discussion of how the concept of “Matka Polka” affected female artists, see Joanna Sosnowska, Poza Kanonem: Sztuka polskich artystek, 1880-1939 (Warszawa: Instytut Sztuki Polskiej Akademii Nauk, 2003).

317 Miri Song, “Gender in a Global World” in Handbook of Gender and Women Studies, eds. Kathy Davis, Mary Evans, and Judith Lorber (Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage Publications, 2006), 204.

134 fecundity, representing the potential of new growth/life. Adding to this connection is the title font, the word “Life” emerging triumphantly from the landscape. In a vignette by artist Ephraim Moses Lilien, a similar correlation between femininity and nature appears

(Figure 14). A woman with long flowing hair emerges from a bed of flowers, as if also blooming from the earth. Her juxtaposition with the flowers (her head is even the same size as the blooms around her) underscores woman’s association with the fertility of nature.

The idealized woman was also cast in religious symbolism, as in a title vignette by Bolesław Nitecki (Figure 15). In this example, a woman’s head is set against a background of a roiling seascape. Lest the viewer mistake her for a “New Woman,” with her brazen attempt to meet the viewer’s gaze, Nitecki added a significant element to indicate her idealized status as a “good woman.” The title of the journal, composed within a stark-white circle in the form of a halo, appears above her head. The juxtapositions of “Life,” the halo, and the woman were not accidental and can be read in a number of ways. First, Nitecki explicitly denoted her sacredness. The woman is perhaps an angel, or the Madonna, or a saint; the particular identification is tangential.

What is significant is the halo itself, with its symbolic associations of purity and virtue.

Second, by including the title “Life” within the halo, Nitecki signified woman’s maternal role as the source of all life. The final interpretation is more esoteric but indicative of the

Symbolist tactic of manipulating subject matter to impart a particular idea. In connecting the woman to a seascape, Nitecki’s image invokes the associations of the Madonna with

Venus, the goddess of love, beauty, and marriage. In the Renaissance, Venus, “trailing

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her multiple associations with cosmic and human generation, merged with the Christian

Virgin Mary.”318 Again, woman’s virtuous and maternal qualities were the focus.

If the above artists idealized women as quasi-religious and nurturing figures, the artist Axentowicz stressed their ethereal beauty. By the end of the nineteenth century,

Axentowicz earned renown for his portraiture, particularly of women, who occupied his paintings after his move to Paris in 1882. In a title vignette for the 27 October 1897 issue, Axentowicz depicted a nude woman, her breast obscured by dark and flowing hair

(Figure 16).319 The drawing appears to be an early version of his 1903 crayon drawing

Girl with a Vase (Figure 17) and assumed numerous variations, including the pastel Girl with a Blue Jug (1904). Axentowicz designed the accompanying font, which corresponds visually to his bold and simplified Art Nouveau-inspired drawing. His female figure firmly represents the “good” woman trope. Her nakedness remains hidden from sight and her downcast eyes avoid direct confrontation with the viewer. In her modesty, she is beautiful.

Yet, her virtue is less explicit than in Wyspiański’s images of “pure” peasants or quasi-religious figures, indicating the ambiguity of woman’s “nature.” According to

Mathews, “woman was the exemplar of moral purity, and yet beneath this façade there also lurked the potential for a frightening but still enticing sexuality.”320 But,

Axentowicz did not allow his female subject to be aware of this potentially “dangerous”

318 Mary D. Garrard, “Leonardo da Vinci: Female Portraits, Female Nature” in The Expanding Discourse, eds. Mary D. Garrard and Norma Broude (New York: HarperCollins, 1992), 72.

319 The same image appeared again on the title page of the 22 January 1898 issue, though in a vertical, rather than horizontal format.

320 Mathews, 93.

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sexuality, thus keeping her passive and firmly under the control of the (male) viewer’s gaze.

The idealized female was also invoked to represent Art itself – that is, art as a generative activity. For example, artist Teofil Terlecki’s title illustration depicts a woman crowned in flowers and entwined by a banner displaying the phrase “Ars longa, vita brevis” (Figure 18). Raising a palm branch, a symbol of victory, above her head, she emphasizes art’s ultimate transcendence over life. This employment of the female connection to the arts is more subtle in Axentowicz’s cover, which features a woman crowned in a wreath of laurels (Figure 19), a plant that symbolically invokes literary or artistic figures. The image is strikingly reminiscent of the artist’s poster design, also reproduced in Life, for the second “Sztuka” exhibition (Figure 20). Yet, the poster and the cover differ to some extent. In Life’s image, the woman holds a pan flute and her eyes

look beyond the viewer. The woman depicted on the poster, on the other hand, meets the

viewer’s gaze, while her hands are completely obscured. In both images, however,

Axentowicz represented woman as a muse for the arts.

The “idealized woman” trope exemplified the virtues of the “good woman” and,

relatedly, the Polish mother, therefore serving as a potent national symbol within the

journal. However, as a widely disseminated trope of Symbolism, the “idealized woman”

remained a distinctly modern one, and its inclusion in Life should be read as manifesting

both nationalist and internationalist significance. The formal elements of Art Nouveau,

meanwhile, contributed to the modern appearance of these images, which could be

cohesively reproduced in any modernist European little magazine, since many likewise

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embraced the Art Nouveau aesthetic. Indeed, such was also the case for another common motif within the journal: landscape.

Nostalgic Landscape

Hirsch’s study of Symbolist subject matter includes an insightful explication about artists’ adoption of the landscape theme. According to the author, “Symbolist” landscapes “either are devoid of people or serve as a magnificent natural domain for a solitary individual.”321 Hirsch points out that this characterization describes Romantic

landscape as well; however, Symbolist landscape rarely represented an actual location.

Instead, it was increasingly marked by nostalgia, embodying a place that had long ceased

to exist or that displayed a completely idealized or imagined setting. For the artists of the

fin de siècle, “life in the city seemed to have so completely changed lives that one could

no longer ‘go back’ – in space or time – to a better world.”322 In Polish art, the role of

nostalgia resonated even more since the land on which Poles continued to live no longer

“belonged” to them. Therefore, landscape frequently functioned as a motif expressing

nostalgia and the nationalist plight.

One of the most famous Polish examples of this is Wyspiański’s series of some

twenty (twelve extant) Views of the Kościuszko Mound from Studio Window, executed

between 1904 and 1905 (Figure 21).323 Although the cycle was probably inspired by the

321 Hirsch, 8.

322 Ibid.

323 For an in depth discussion of the images see Agnieszka Morawinska, “A View from the Window,” Canadian-American Slavic Studies 21, no. 1-2 (Spring-Summer 1987): 57-78; and Irena Dżurkowa- Kossowska, “Serie ‘Widoków na kopiec Kościuszki’ Stanisława Wyspiańskiego,” Biuletyn Historii Sztuki 52, no. 1-2 (1990): 123-134.

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experiments in light and composition in Monet’s series paintings – for example, the

Rouen cathedral and poplar trees painted during different seasons and times of day –

Wyspiański’s paintings invoked a clear national reference in his choice of subject matter.

The Kościuszko mound symbolized one of Poland’s greatest insurrection leaders, and, as

art historian Agnieszka Morawinska reveals, “the Krakow hill has a mark of mourning

upon it; it is a Saint Defaite, a mountain of loss, the sepulchral monument of a defeated

Polish national hero.”324

This nostalgic attribute of landscape was already apparent in Life several years before Wyspiański embarked upon his series. In a title vignette by Antoni Stanisław

Procajłowicz for the 8 January 1898 issue, for example, the artist depicted a landscape whose vast field and church in the background may have served to evoke references to the Polish land, despite his subject’s lack of locale specificity (Figure 22). The steeple, silhouetted against a glorious setting sun, probably belongs to a Catholic church, referencing the religious affiliation of most Poles. On the other hand, the field, unspoiled by industrialization, conjures up images of the idyllic Polish peasant land, which, in reality, was increasingly threatened by the onslaught of overpopulation. As we have seen, the idealization of Polish peasants was marked by the desire to safeguard indigenous

Polish culture and traditions, considered persistently in danger of disappearing under the three foreign regimes. The peasant fields, therefore, served as a metaphor for Poland

324 Ibid., 64. The deliberate choice of subject recalls Hokusai’s series of Mount Fuji, which must also have served as an influence for Wyspiański, and I agree with Morawinska’s observation of the Japanese influence in Wyspiański’s series, despite the artist’s renunciation of japonisme. Morawinska, “A View from the Window,” 67.

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itself. Procajłowicz’s vignette represented the nostalgia that peasant fields held for many

Poles, who dreamed of the day when they could again reclaim their land.

Jan Stanisławski’s painted landscapes, reproduced as photogravures on the pages of Life, similarly induced nostalgic sentiment. His painting Winter (Figure 23), for example, depicts a hushed and rustic scene of the freshly fallen snow.325 Crosses in the

Wilderness (Figure 24) and Moonlit Landscape, on the other hand, are more somber

nocturnes. The often evocative nature of Stanisławski’s landscapes emanated from his

invocation of nastrój. The word lacks a precise English translation, roughly meaning

“mood,” but translates into the German concept of Stimmung. A painting that exhibited

nastrój, or was nastrojowy (the adjectival form of nastrój), triggered an emotional

reaction from the viewer.326 Representations of landscape and nature, with their implied

connections to the peasant life and their associations to a pre-partitioned Poland, were

meant to fill the viewer not only with wistful nostalgia but also with a hope for Poland’s

future by subconsciously reminding viewers that their land was worth defending and

preserving. Nocturnes were particularly effective in their “symbolizing the dark night of

national enslavement.”327

This nastrojowy quality of landscape is evident in Stanisław Janowski’s vignette

in which bare trees inhabit a snow-covered field (Figure 25). The image represents a

scenery seemingly untouched and unaffected by the outside world. In its suggestion of a

rural location devoid of people, this terrain also appears independent of and “frozen” in

325 Z 1, 11 (1897): 3. The painting initially appeared under Szczepański’s editorship, but Wyczółkowski also reproduced it, this time on its own page, in Z 2, 34 (1898): 449.

326 For a definition and discussion of nastrój, see Cavanaugh, 116-117.

327 Kossowska, Narodziny Polskiej grafiki, 281.

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time. In the nostalgic landscape, the artist could be said to have “reach[ed] backward to

form a bond with the past, more precisely a dreamed-of past from a time long before the partitions.”328

As a metaphor for the “lost” Poland, the nostalgic landscape readily manifested

nationalist significance. For Polish readers of Life, the nostalgic landscape might very

well trigger feelings of yearning for and loss over their ancestral land. Yet, the elastic

visual language of Symbolism imbued these images with an interpretive relevance that transcended any national borders. These images also held the potential to affect non-

Polish viewers by remaining distinctly modern by virtue of their evocative, nastrojowy nature, free of all didacticism and explicit nationalism.

Allegory

Finally, a striking number of illustrations in Life, not readily classified within the

above two tropes, embody allegory as subject matter. These illustrations go beyond what

art historian Robert Goldwater called “allegory in its traditional forms, in its use of

conventional signs and symbols,” in which artists followed set artistic customs. Instead,

Life represented the Symbolist allegory, in which “the picture begins in personal

experience and emotion . . . [and] induce[s] a reflective mood.”329 Unlike the Polish

allegories of Matejko, for example, these illustrations were not intended as moral lessons.

Instead, they expressed the artist’s feelings and beliefs about art, life, and death.

328 Cavanaugh, 129.

329 Robert Goldwater, Symbolism (New York: Harper & Row, 1979), 5.

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Furthermore, they indicated the increasing shift away from art as civic lesson toward art that embraced creative and personal subjectivity.

At first look, Mehoffer’s drawing of a young girl lighting a flame may be included in the “idealized female” trope. The image was part of a larger stained-glass

design titled The Youth of Art, on which he began working in late 1896 (Figure 26 and

Figure 27). A stained-glass firm commissioned the actual window, completed in 1900,

for their studio in Fribourg, Switzerland. In the final design, a young, nude woman

amidst a verdant floral landscape lights a flame. A phoenix, a symbol of regeneration, watches over the scene from a tree. The subject is of the eternal youth of art and “of its continuous rebirth in the new artistic styles, movements, and tendencies.”330 While the

image’s classical building (shown in the background) and reliance upon allegory

contributed to a sense of tradition, the formal and decorative techniques adopted from Art

Nouveau and Secessionism represented art’s new direction. By highlighting only the

young girl, Life truly emphasized the “youth of art” (manifested in “Young” Poland) and implied the necessity for new ideas and approaches.

Allegorical depictions also raised issues of artistic personal expression. This is evident, for example, in Wyczółkowski’s painting The Visitation (Odwiedziny) in which the artist depicted his friend and fellow painter Jacek Malczewski in the guise of a faun accompanied by two nymphs (Figure 28). In the painting, Malczewski dips a brush into his palette to add another touch of color onto the huge canvas behind him. By representing the painter as a faun, Wyczółkowski clearly referenced Malczewski’s

330 Anna Zeńczak, “Młodość Sztuki – Witraż dla zakładu Vinzenza Kirscha i Karla Flecknera we Fryburgu, 1896-1900” in Józef Mehoffer: Opus Magnum (Muzeum Narodowe w Krakowie, 2000), 149.

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tendency to depict himself as or among classical mythological figures.331 As Cavanaugh

states, Malczewski sometimes utilized mythic beings to “represent the creative forces of

art.”332 In his paintings of “other worlds,” Malczewski “invent[ed] a pantheon

representing a metaphysical worldview premised on an underlying order, one in which

the life of the spirit and the forces that determine the human condition can take symbolic

form.”333 Wyczółkowski rejected the conventional depiction of a faun’s unbridled lust at

the sight of bathing nymphs. Instead, the image evokes the instinctive nature of the artist,

who creates purely from inspiration rather than academic criteria or civic impulse. Thus,

the image represents the primary duty of the artist: truth to self rather than duty to the

nation.

Of course, as many of the previous examples indicate, national subject matter did

not suddenly vanish, but it simply took on a new form, where it was no longer the sole

artistic motivation. Malczewski, for example, repeatedly referenced the Polish plight but

also infused his symbolic canvases with resounding personal emotion. As in

Wyczółkowski’s image, the setting of Malczewski’s The Slave’s Inspiration (c.1898)

(Figure 29) is an artist’s studio, but Malczewski blended themes of classical mythology and nationalist concerns. A male artist, dressed as a Siberian exile, has collapsed into reverie. According to Cavanaugh, “Malczewski was less concerned with injustice or political imprisonment as such than he was with the feelings of the artist prisoner. These are expressed through the female figure, a chimera, who seems to embody a dream of

331 Wyczółkowski was also likely responding to an 1889 painting by Malczewski, Leon Wyczółkowski and Ignacy Maciejowski-Sewer as Fauns.

332 Cavanaugh, 195.

333 Ibid., 196.

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power.”334 Furthermore, she adds that “[Malczewski’s] symbolism is not intellectual. His

images are better read as expressions of feelings and emotions, and their meaning indeed

remains an enigma unless they are understood on this level.”335 In other words,

Malczewski’s images, like numerous allegories in Life, evoked a grand Idea. The work is

not merely a homily about the Polish plight, but an exploration of the dichotomy of

enslavement (the Siberian exile) and freedom (of the dream world), of powerlessness (his

shackles) and might (in the form of the chimera). In his painting, Malczewski conflated his demands for artistic creative freedom with the nation’s right to exist independently.

Furthermore, the ability to read this painting in terms of either national struggle or artistic

autonomy points to the Symbolist malleability of the images promoted in Life. That is,

the image was equally legitimate as both an international modernist and a nationalist

conception.

While allegory served as an effective approach to explore dichotomy, it also

revealed harmonious connections. In a title vignette for the 9 October 1897 issue, Lilien

explored the corresponding relationship between art and poetry (Figure 30).336 In the image, a floral vine metamorphoses into a paintbrush and fountain pen winding around the stylized figures of a man and a woman – the latter holding a lyre – locked in a kiss.

In addition to art and poetry, the inclusion of a pen and brush may refer to the relationship between painting and the graphic arts and artists’ desire to elevate the status of the latter to that of the former. Certainly, in Life, the graphic arts were a crucial

334 Ibid., 203.

335 Ibid., 204.

336 Katarzyna Kulpińska, Szata graficzna młodopolskich czasopism literacko-artystycznych (Warszawa: Wydawnictwo DiG, 2005), 108.

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component of its visual program. Furthermore, in Lilien’s image, the title of the journal

is composed of winding tendrils connected to the pen and brush, indicating Life’s refusal

to maintain a hierarchic distinction between the mediums. The gently curving

arabesques, meanwhile, recall the works of such Art Nouveau artists as Alphonse Mucha

and Eugène Grasset.337

Wyspiański, too, employed allegory in numerous images, including four drawings representing the elements, titled Fountain (Fontanna – representing Water), Flame

(Płomień – representing Fire), The Rock of Niobids (Skała Niobidów – representing

Earth), and “Satans” (Szatany, plural – representing Air) (Figure 31).338 Although the

drawings were actually sketches for polychrome designs for the Franciscan Church in

Krakow, their fantastic and uncanny subject matter – contorted and writhing bodies and

anguished faces floating through voids of space – seem better suited for a horror novel.

The drawings seem to indicate not the four elements but the soul’s fate after death. More specifically, the images intimate the death of the damned: the cursed fate of the Niobids, the haunting figure of the devil, and the tortured expressions of deceased souls suggest that the setting is Hell. Perhaps, the subject matter was meant to evoke the ubiquitous images of the Last Judgment on the facades of Gothic cathedrals, with which Wyspiański was so entranced, while also expressing the artist’s own trepidations about death and the afterlife.

337 Lilien, in fact, served as an illustrator for Jugend and was fully immersed in the stylistic tradition of Jugendstil, a German variation of Art Nouveau.

338 The first two images appeared in the inaugural issue, while the illustrations representing Earth and Air were reproduced in the 2 October and 20 November 1897 issues, respectively.

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Death was also a common motif in the art of Czech artist Karel Hlaváček, who submitted his work to Life in response to a contest announcement for the creation of a title vignette (Figure 32).339 Hlaváček won the contest, and his design was reproduced in the 4 December 1897 issue.340 On the last page of that issue, a brief acknowledgement appeared, indicating the vignette’s subject as “a philosophical idea of life saluting in front of death, with which it wages an eternal battle.”341 The drawing, therefore, depicts a

metaphoric representation of life and death. A beautiful woman wearing a plumed

helmet and holding a sword, which she points toward the sky, personifies life. She stands erect and faces Death, represented by a skeleton lifting its theatrical mask to reveal the skull underneath. Death also holds a sword, pointing it directly at the face of Life, whose countenance exhibits stoicism and serenity. Hlaváček integrated the journal’s title directly into the design so the letters partially obscure the scene. The dominant and boldly graphic title – Life – accentuates the power of Life over death.

In addition to exploring the tensions between life and death, the journal also proffered a striking number of illustrations of both supernatural and mythological beings, particularly of winged figures representing either angels or the mythological genii or guardian spirits. Life’s artists were not alone in their preoccupations with otherworldly creatures. Most of the artists aligned with Symbolism – Redon, Rops, and Khnopff, for

339 The contest was publicized in the first issue of the journal. The announcement simply dictated that the vignette must include the title of the journal and should be no larger than one-third of the title page; the subject was open to the artist. The winning prize was fifty coronas. “Konkurs na winietę tytułową ‘Życia,’” Z 1, 1 (1897): 12. Fifteen vignettes were submitted to the contest, and artists Stanisławski, Axentowicz, Wyspiański, and Mehoffer served as judges.

340 Life held three contests. Kazimierz Tetmajer won the other two contests, which called for a sonnet and novel.

341 “Winieta . . . obrazuje filozoficzną ideę: życie salutujące przed śmiercią, z którą walkę wiekuistą toczy.” “Winieta tytułowa ‘Życia,’” Z 1, 11 (1897): 12.

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example – populated their imaginary worlds with angels, demons, and mythological

beings in their desire to transcend material reality in favor of the world of imagination.

Yet, the preponderance of the angel and winged genius on the pages of Life is especially meaningful because these creatures symbolize protection, watching over and guarding the living.

Angels, in particular, were a key iconographic element of Roman Catholic art, and, for Poles, Catholicism and Polish national identity were often inextricably aligned.

Therefore, the images in Life might be viewed as symbolic references to Polish Catholic identity. Lilien’s title vignette for the 11 December 1897 issue, for example, represents an angel alighting upon the earth, whose form darkly looms in front of a brilliant sun

(Figure 33).342 The angel is glowing and resplendent compared to the shadowy earth

onto which she sprinkles (what appear to be) seeds. Lilien’s drawing indicates

regeneration and rebirth, an idea that would have had powerful national implications for

Polish readers even though the artist himself was Jewish rather than Catholic.

However, neither Lilien’s nor any of the above images should be considered

purely for their potential iconographic significance. In fact, the formal elements of each

image were equally important. The editors of Life attempted to show their readers not

only how modern art approached subject matter (that is, through the language of

Symbolism) but also how it looked. Therefore, they favored those images that adopted

the stylistic attributes of Art Nouveau, with its emphasis on the decorative properties of

line and the flattening of space. The vignettes of Lilien or Hlaváček, thereby, fit

cohesively among the works of Mehoffer or Wyspiański, reflecting the increasingly

342 The drawing itself, created specifically for Life, was the second-place winner of the contest, won by Hlaváček, to create a title vignette.

147 international modernist character of the journal. The editors sought to demonstrate that

Polish art, like its foreign counterparts, looked effectively modern while holding the evocative potential to appeal subjectively to both an international and a distinctly Polish audience.

Artistic Direction of Life: Wyspiański and Przybyszewski

The themes of the idealized female, nostalgic landscape, and allegory did not disappear from the pages of Life when Przybyszewski assumed editorial control.

Furthermore, he continued to promote a number of the artists – Mehoffer, Hlaváček,

Stanisławski, for example – favored by the previous editors. Yet, the works reproduced during Przybyszewski’s editorship were markedly different from the previous issues. He clearly preferred much darker themes dealing with subjects such as death and hell, despair, anxiety, and the femme fatale. Furthermore, he gravitated toward artists whose works expressed dark human emotions and revealed the sinister side of human nature, introducing the artists Munch, Vigeland, Goya, Weiss, Rops, and Jan Toorop, among others, to the pages of Life. Przybyszewski was much less concerned about what was depicted than in how the subject was expressed. Under his control, Life became significantly more driven by personalities than tropes and served as a platform for artists who effectively expressed primal emotions, fears, and desires. That is, Przybyszewski transformed the journal into one whose content was predicated on psychic and self- expression.

One of these “personalities” was Wyspiański, who Przybyszewski appointed artistic director shortly after taking over Life. Wyspiański represented for Przybyszewski

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an artist whose work expressed the “naked soul” and reflected the tenets of art for art’s

sake. Yet, ironically, Wyspiański was among the most nationalistic of Young Poland

artists, and Polish history and landscape in both literal and symbolic form recurred

throughout his oeuvre. However, Przybyszewski considered Wyspiański an exemplary

artist because his works could be interpreted in many different ways, inviting either

determinedly national or distinctly subjective and personal readings. It was the latter that

Przybyszewski accentuated.

In addition to Wyspiański, the group of Przybyszewski’s “personalities” included

Mehoffer, Stanisławski, Lilien, Ludwik Vlastimil Hofman, Hlaváček, Munch, and Weiss,

all represented by multiple works. The following sections focus on four of these artists –

Wyspiański, Munch, Weiss, and Hlaváček – for a couple reasons. First, all were close friends of or corresponded with Przybyszewski and were familiar, to various degrees,

with his theories and philosophies about art. Second, the artists achieved the expression

of the “naked soul” in markedly different ways. Wyspiański’s work was characterized by

the use of symbolism. Munch and Weiss sought to express the naked soul and profound

human emotions through not only subject matter but also the distortion of form itself, a

tendency that led artists progressively further away from naturalism. Hlaváček’s work,

meanwhile, was typified by decadence, an approach to subject matter that tended to focus

on the primordial vices of humanity.

Wyspiański’s Changes to Life

Like many of his Young Poland peers, Wyspiański’s talents went beyond just

painting and drawing, and he was truly a “Renaissance man.” He was a poet, a

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playwright, a theater designer, a decorative and stained glass artist, and a furniture

designer. Today, he continues to be as widely recognized for his writing as for his art,

and his contribution to Polish theater, in particular, has been widely examined by literary

scholars.343

Wyspiański was born and died in Krakow. There he attended Jagiellonian

University and the School of Fine Arts, where he studied under Matejko, who was both a

mentor and friend to the younger artist. In 1890, Wyspiański traveled throughout Europe,

including Italy, Switzerland, Prague, and Paris, where, in 1891, he enrolled at the

Colarossi Academy. He remained in Paris until September 1892, sharing a studio with

Mehoffer for several months. It was in Paris that his love of theater was awakened and

where he began writing dramas, which dealt predominantly with national themes and

subtexts.

Upon returning to Poland that same year, Wyspiański, along with Mehoffer,

created stained glass designs for St. Mary’s Church in Krakow. Wyspiański revisited

Paris from February to October 1893, this time working in Gauguin’s former studio on

the Avenue de Maine. In March 1894, Wyspiański made another, his last, trip to Paris,

creating art there until September, when he returned to Krakow. In the following years, he created several polychrome designs for Krakow churches and worked on illustrations to Homer’s Iliad, some of which were reproduced in Life. In 1897, he served as a

founding member of “Sztuka” and began contributing to Life, before becoming its artistic

director the following year. His prolific career – as playwright, artist, decorator, and poet

343 See Maria Prussak, Wyspiański w labiryncie teatru (Warszawa: Instytut Badan Literackich PAN, 2005), Aniela Łempicka, Wyspiański, pisarz dramatyczny: Idee i formy (Kraków: Wydawnictwo Literackie, 1973), and Adam Grzymała-Siedlecki, O twórczości Wyspiańskiego (Kraków: Wydawnictwo Literackie, 1970).

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– continued throughout his short life, which ended in November 1907, less than two

months before his thirty-ninth birthday.344

In his book My Contemporaries, Przybyszewski praised Wyspiański’s contributions to both Life and graphic design in general:

A couple of parallel lines at the top and the bottom to bracket the text; a skillful arrangement [of text] so that next to one printed column, appeared another, in which some sort of drawing was included; the careful selection of various types of fonts – these were the simple methods that gave Life its highly artistic appearance, which to this day could serve as a glowing example. Wyspiański’s work for Life was, as it were, a revelation for all of Polish printing. Indeed, the whole of contemporary Polish typography was modeled upon Life.345

Although Wyspiański kept the format introduced by Wyczółkowski in which the

journal’s title and table of contents appeared at the top half of the page, he changed the

font to a cleaner serif typescript, printed in all capital letters for clearer legibility (Figure

35). Wyspiański also strove to make each issue a harmonious whole, carefully choosing

the illustrations, font, and layout.346 As art historian Katarzyna Kulpińska points out,

unlike previous editors, Wyspiański focused more closely on the overall appearance and

cohesion of the page. That is, he considered how columns of text contrasted with

344 In addition to his artistic and literary career, Wyspiański also served as a professor at the Krakow Academy of Fine Arts (where he served as chair of religious painting), a city councilor, and a translator of literature. Wyspiański was also a member of the Viennese Secession and the Polish Society of Applied Arts.

345 “Kilka równoległych linii u góry i dołu, jako obramowanie tekstu, umiejętne rozmieszczenie tegoż, tak że obok jednej zadrukowanej kolumny pozostowała druga, na której zwykle był pomieszczony jakiś rysunek, staranny dobór rozmaitego typu czcionek – otoż to te najprostsze śródki, które dawały ‘Życiu’ ten wysoce artystyczny wygląd, który po dziś dzień mógłby świecić przykładem. Praca Wyspiańskiego naokoło ‘Życia’ była w ogóle dla całego drukarstwa polskiego niejako rewelacją. Na ‘Życiu’ wzorowała się istotnie cała współczesna typografia polska.” Przybyszewski, Moi współcześni, cz. 2 (Warszawa: Instytut Wydawniczy “Bibljoteka Polaka,” 1930), 115.

346 Czachowska, 241.

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unprinted areas of space and how illustrations and ornamental designs most effectively contributed to the page’s pleasing composition.347

Wyspiański’s appropriation of Art Nouveau was also instrumental to Life’s

transition into an international modernist periodical. As we have seen in a number of its

illustrations, artists like Wyspiański embedded national meaning into their works while,

simultaneously, experimenting with the modern style. Polish artists’ predilection for Art

Nouveau and its European variants should be considered not as a derivative approach but

as a desire to contribute uniquely to international modernism within which national

identity could also be manifested. Furthermore, the style was especially suited for

graphic illustration, as is evident in journals such as Vienna’s Ver Sacrum; Berlin’s Pan;

and Munich’s Jugend, Die Insel and Simplicissimus.

Likely influenced by Ver Sacrum, Wyspiański harmoniously integrated his

illustrations within the text of the Life’s pages, and many of his floral vignettes, a motif

often symbolizing growth, were reminiscent of Josef Maria Auchentaler’s vignettes for

the Austrian journal.348 For example, in the first issue of his tenure, a floral vignette

appears between the title of the journal and a poem by Artur Oppman (Figure 34). The

vignette does not illustrate the text in any way; instead, it serves as a decorative “header”

to the poem and, simultaneously, fills the void of a page sparsely populated with text.

Wyspiański was not apprehensive about including significant white spaces on the

page, but he also tended to balance overly large voids with his floral vignettes,

thoughtfully integrated within the page (Figure 35). The placement of the illustrations

347 Kulpińska, 37-8. For the development of Polish typography, see Janusz Sowiński, Sztuka typograficzna Młodej Polski (Wrocław: Ossolineum, 1982).

348 Both artists’ works were reproduced in the Ver Sacrum 1, no. 7 (1898).

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never appeared haphazard, as did the decorative vignettes under Szczepański and even

Wyczółkowski. Furthermore, Wyspiański’s decorative approach to the page’s visual unity continued in the journal even after Wyspiański stepped down as artistic director in

July 1899.349

Przybyszewski’s “Personalities”

Wyspiański’s Symbolism

Before becoming Life’s artistic director, Wyspiański had already contributed

many illustrations to the journal, including several title and decorative vignettes.

However, his appointment presented him with the opportunity to integrate into the

journal even more of his own drawings and paintings, and he quickly became Life’s most

frequently published artist. Furthermore, Wyspiański was among the “personalities”

promoted by Przybyszewski. Indeed, his works expressed deep and psychic emotions, a quality first articulated by Life’s founder, Szczepański, who admired the artist’s ability to create art that revealed his soul. At the close of the inaugural issue of Life, Szczepański

remarked that Wyspiański was “an unmistakable symbolist . . . creating his own world, a

kingdom full of magic and marvels, in which he most willingly resides.”350 “A symbol,”

according to Szczepański’s interpretation, “stimulates fantasy . . . [and] allows [one] to

349 No artistic director was appointed after Wyspiański. However, in the 1 December 1899 issue, Antoni Procajłowicz was listed under “Artistic Arrangement,” though his artistic direction to the journal was negligible. Even after Wyspiański stepped down, the artist remained a contributor to the journal.

350 “[Wyspiański] jest niewątpliwie symbolistą. . . Sam sobie tworzy własny świat, królestwo pełne czarów i cudów, w którem przebywa najchętniej.” “Ilustracje: ‘Fontanna’ – ‘Płomień,’” Z 1, 1 (1897): 12.

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sense the secret, subtle content – the hidden soul of an object; [it] guides [one] into the

depths, [and] reaches to the core of a given thing.”351

In another short essay, Szczepański argued that Wyspiański effectively revealed

“etat [sic] d’âme, the condition of the soul, ambience, [and] poetry,” and that the artist’s

understanding of nature was full of originality: “Everything [in his paintings] is alive

[and] assumes human forms, [which are] somewhat unusual [and] fantastic;

anthropomorphism . . . is distinctly revealed in his painting of nature.”352 It was the

artist’s manner “of arousing impressions, the evocation of mood and thought – not

directly but indirectly, with the help of something else,” that made him a symbolist in

Szczepański’s eyes.353 Meanwhile, Wyspiański’s ability to capture the true essence of

nature or an object rather than relying upon naturalistic mimicry captivated

Przybyszewski.

In fact, it was Przybyszewski who fully embraced not only the content of

Wyspiański’s work but also his manner of execution. For Przybyszewski, artistic identity was defined by the artist’s ability to look beyond material surface while simultaneously manifesting his psyche, creating a work that was personally and subjectively expressive.

Szczepański, despite his praise of the artist, did not wholeheartedly embrace

Wyspiański’s technique, emphasizing that he was still maturing artistically. Indeed,

Szczepański found some traits of his paintings unfavorable and noted that the artist

351 “Symbol pobudza fantazyę . . . pozwala odczuwać tajną, subtelną treść, ukrytą duszę jakiegoś przedmiotu, wprowadza w głąb, dociera do rdzeni danej rzeczy.” Szczepański, “Stanisław Wyspiański,” Z 1, 13 (1897): 9.

352 “Wszystko żyje u niego, przybiera kształty ludzkie, ale jakieś niezwykłe, fantastyczne; antropomorfizm . . . objawia się wyraźnie w jego obrazach przyrody.” Ibid.

353 “budzenia wrażeń, wywoływania nastroju i myśli nie wprost, lecz pośrednio, za pomocą innej odrębnej rzeczy.” Ibid.

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“paints in a flat manner; the bodies, in his manner of drawing, sometimes have too little

volume; [and] the verticality, slenderness, [and] elongation of [his] forms is sometimes

exaggerated,” indicating that, in the future, “the tireless artist will dispose of these

traits.”354 For Przybyszewski, however, both the content and the formal elements of a

work contributed to the expression of the artist’s soul. Only a willful distortion that

disregarded “proper” formal execution could manifest such psychic articulation.

Wyspiański’s attention to pure expression of psychic feeling is apparent in his

pastel Sesame’s Treasure (1897), reproduced in Life (Figure 36). The painting depicts

several human figures convulsing around the desiccated roots of a tree. While the title

suggests a scene from The Arabian Nights, the painting hardly indicates the portrayal of a

folk legend. Literary scholar Radoslaw Okulicz-Kozaryn, adopting the “hermetic

interpretation” of art historian Zdzisław Kępiński, claims that Sesame’s Treasure

“conveys the process of the disintegration of matter, its fermentation and purification to

higher forms of being. The elements emerge from the depths to continue their struggle in

the visible world.”355 This reading reveals Wyspiański’s desire to transcend narrative in

favor of metaphysical exploration in an attempt to delve into the state of the soul.

The painting, in fact, was among the works prompting Szczepański to consider

Wyspiański a symbolist, since “when he looks at nature, he would gladly reach for its

content – and this content, this soul, he illustrates through a symbol. . . . [which] is not

354 “Maluje jakby płasko, ciała jego mają może czasem za mało bryłowatości w rysunku, strzelistość, chudość, wydłużoność kształtów bywa niekiedy przesadną. Ale niestrudzony artysta pozbędzie się tych cech.” Ibid.

355 Radoslaw Okulicz-Kozaryn, “The Language of Luminous Love: M.K. Čiurlionis Among Heirs to the King-Spirit,” Lituanus: Lithuanian Quarterly Journal of Arts and Sciences 49, no. 4 (Winter 2003): www.lituanus.org

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always understood by people who cannot feel the mood-evoking [nastrojowy] poetry.”356

Yet Wyspiański did more than incorporate symbolism within his subject matter. He presented a clear distortion of form in which the tree’s chaotic roots evoke a frightening emotion, while the somber shades pervade the work with melancholy. However, it was the artist Munch who took this distortion to another level, increasingly eschewing naturalism.

Munch and Weiss and the Expression of Emotion

Having previously written about Munch, Przybyszewski, shortly after taking over

Life, began reproducing his works. These included the lithographic prints Madonna

(1895, titled Symbol in Life), Harpy (1894), The Scream (1895), and Munch’s self- portrait with a skeleton arm (from 1895).357 The selection of works must have been

inspired, at least partly, by pure convenience, as Przybyszewski used the same images

previously published in Moderni Revue; in fact, it was Przybyszewski who introduced

Munch to the Czech journal’s editor.

Since Przybyszewski and Procházka maintained close contact, the practice of

trading reproductions was a common practice between the two journals. For example, in

three separate issues of Life, Przybyszewski included reproductions of prints by Goya –

whose works he first encountered during a trip to Spain – which also appeared in

356 “Wyspiański jest symbolistą: gdy patrzy na naturę, radby dotrzeć do jej treści – i treść tę, duszę tę, uzmysławia symbolem. Podobno ten symbol nie zawsze bywa zrozumiały dla osób nie odczuwających nastrojwej poezyi.” Szczepański, “Stanisław Wyspiański,” 9.

357 The latter appeared in the Z 2, 42 (1898), whereas the former three were reproduced in Z 2, 40/41 (1898).

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Moderní revue.358 In fact, Przybyszewski likely viewed Goya as Munch’s progenitor in

the Spanish artist’s ability to exude primordial human emotions. In a letter to

Przesmycki, Przybyszewski remarked: “If you saw these marvels in the Prado and the

Academie de San Fernando, if you saw the enormous, incomprehensible power of Goya –

the painter – you would cry with joy.”359

It was Munch, however, who exemplified for Przybyszewski the epitome of an artist with the ability to express his “naked soul.” By reproducing Munch’s works,

Przybyszewski provided Polish artists with a visual model of art that eschewed narrative and edification in favor of psychic expression even to the point of abstracting form. The artist and the writer were close friends, and, as art historian Władysława Jaworska

indicates, “Przybyszewski was amazed to discover in Munch’s paintings a visual

embodiment of his own philosophical principles, a pictorial parallel to his favorite literary themes of love, suffering and death.”360

Describing The Scream, Przybyszewski observed, “[Munch’s] landscape is an absolute correlate of immediate sensation: each twinge of pain in the supreme paroxysm

of exposed nerves has its exact counterpart in colour. Pain—a red stain like blood; long

screams of agony in strips of blue, green and gold.”361 The writer noted that Munch

translated his emotions into the color, shape, and forms within the painting, in which

358 These include the etchings from Los Caprichos, Todos caerán (Z 2, 48 (1898): 637) and Devota Profesion (Z 3, 17-18 (1899): 325); and a Bobabilicon from his Los Proverbios series (Z 3, 8 (1899): 147)

359 “Gdybyś widział te cuda w Prado i Akademii de San Fernando, gdybyś widział olbrzymią, niepojętą potęgę Goyi – malarza – płakałbyś ze szczęścia.” Letter from Przybyszewski to Zenon Przesmycki, from Madrid, 2.4.1898. BN Rkps; reprinted in Listy, ed. Helsztyński, vol. 1, 182.

360 Jaworska, “Munch, Przybyszewski,” 16.

361 In Przybyszewski’s “Psychischer Naturalismus,” which was adapted into “On the Paths of the Soul” in Life. Quoted in Jaworska, “Edvard Munch and Stanislaw Przybyszewski,” 313.

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naturalism succumbed to pure psychic expression. For Przybyszewski, Munch, in his

deep anxiety, experienced the world just as he painted it. In his abstraction of form and

distortion of naturalistic color, Munch represented his own internal truth.

Przybyszewski’s commentary about The Scream, in fact, was strikingly similar to

Munch’s own. In his diaries, the artist described his inspiration for the painting: “I was

sick and tired. . . . The clouds were turning red—like blood. . . . I wanted to reproduce my

moods by painting the colors, lines and shapes that I had seen in a particular state of mind.”362

In the work of Polish artist Wojciech Weiss, Przybyszewski found an expressive

potential equal to Munch, and in the penultimate issue of Life, he reproduced several of his works, including The Dance (1899), Spring (1898), The Melancholic (1898), and

Youth (1899), among others.363 In the latter example (Figure 3), Weiss introduced the image of the femme fatale. A woman’s form, reduced to breasts and prominent hips, hovers menacingly behind a young boy, whose troubled countenance and defensive pose suggest his unease. Weiss’s disembodied woman was not the idealized nurturing figure previously underscored in Life but a psychic conveying of female evil.

The incorporation of the femme fatale, relatively non-existent in previous issues of Life, received a prominent place in the Przybyszewski era, since she was a familiar trope in his own writing. Przybyszewski viewed woman as a vampire with the potential power to drain the male sexual force. In his roman à clef Homo Sapiens (1895-6),

362 Quoted in Shelley Wood Cordulack, Edvard Munch and the Physiology of Symbolism (Madison, NJ: Fairleigh Dickinson University Press, 2002), 30.

363 The closing editorial statement of the issue expressed the editor’s and publishers’ desire to reproduce Weiss’s works in a separate album, thwarted by “technical difficulties.” Therefore, they reproduced within the issue every image intended for the unrealized album.

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Przybyszewski’s personal philosophy repeatedly emerged, such as in the statement

“women are faithless, vain, the very servants of Satan,”364 an idea later reinforced in his

essay “Die Synagoge des Satan” (1896). The femme fatale was also prevalent in the

Munch’s works, which must have inspired Weiss’s own rendering of the theme. In

Munch’s Harpy, for example, the figure of a woman with huge bat wings hovers over a

man’s collapsed body (Figure 37). Weiss’s ability to emulate this theme of woman’s

seductive and deadly power gained him Przybyszewski’s admiration.

In addition, Weiss captured the sexual nature of humankind, a concept that he also must have derived from Przybyszewski, who had claimed that lust was the primordial nature of man. In Weiss’s The Dance, a painting strikingly similar to his Obsession of

the same year, a procession of naked bodies seemingly floats along the range of a

mountain (Figure 38). In an essay about the artist published in Life, the writer Stanisław

Lack described the scene as a symbolic dance of life in which the crowd of figures

“rush[es] and press[es] forward in an uninterrupted stream toward a tree, which bears the

paradisiacal apple of life.”365 By stressing the figures’ “joy and delight,” Lack ignored

the Dionysian fervor present in the dance. In fact, The Dance expresses instinctive sexual

drives. The work is purely about feeling and psychic states, achieved through a distortion

of form in which the human figures, only vaguely delineated, merge into an

indecipherable mass in the background.

364 Przybyszewski, Homo Sapiens, A Novel in Three Parts, trans. Thomas Seltzer (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1915), 47.

365 “W okrężnym tańcu pędzą i tłoczą się ludzie nieprzerwanem pasmem ku drzewu, w którem skupiło się dla nich rajskie jabłko życia.” St[anisław] Lack, “Wojciech Weiss,” Z 4, 1 (1900): 10.

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As an artist who imbued his work with subjective expressionism, Weiss was, for

Przybyszewski, the artistic inheritor of Munch. Indeed, Weiss exemplified what was still

largely lacking (for the editor) in Polish art – a deliberate rejection of all external

phenomena in favor of purely psychic artistic disclosure. In other words, Weiss

externalized his internal emotions and feelings. For the editor, only when artists rejected art’s mimetic and moralizing roles in favor of expressionism would art truly reach its

highest potential. By reproducing Munch’s and Weiss’s works, Przybyszewski sought to show his readership that such a feat was possible. Moreover, he proved that a Polish artist could achieve this goal as effectively as one of the greatest (in Przybyszewski’s eyes) foreign artists.

Hlaváček’s Decadence

Przybyszewski became aware of the Czech artist Hlaváček through their shared association with Moderní revue, and the two men soon began a correspondence.

Przybyszewski likely introduced the artist to Life, to which Hlaváček submitted the contest-winning title vignette for the 4 December 1897 issue. The first editor,

Szczepański, was equally impressed with Hlaváček’s works, reproducing several of his vignettes (all of which initially appeared in Moderní revue). Yet a striking contrast between the vignettes reproduced by Szczepański and those that appeared under

Przybyszewski’s direction is evident. Szczepański primarily included Hlaváček’s purely decorative vignettes, such as flowers inset within a border (Figure 39). Przybyszewski, on the other hand, incorporated Hlaváček’s haunting portrait heads, images that reveal the sinister nature of the human being.

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According to art historian Ilona Sármány-Parsons, “the significance of Hlaváček’s

graphics lies in the way in which they combined general symbols with personal feelings

and passions, so that the medium attained a new emotional and expressive power.”366 The

feelings and passions characterizing Hlaváček’s works were lust, fear, and cruelty.

Writing about his own creative process, Hlaváček indicated in a letter to Przybyszewski:

“You will certainly perceive the sad inner process that I illuminate. A feeling of brutality, a sense of the terrible and monstrous, that is what I wanted to evoke, something that lurks always behind one’s shoulder, which one is always trying to escape, yet which one is compelled eternally to serve.”367

Like Munch and Weiss, Hlaváček’s subjects were inspired by the primordial

nature of man, who was driven by not only lust but also fear and evil. Hlaváček’s

approach to form, however, was quite precise. He did not distort nor abstract. Instead, his

style was distinctive to decadent art, which, as John Reed writes, “may parasitically alter

a traditional form, [but] does not reject form. In fact it exalts it.”368 In his study of Czech

decadent art, art historian Otto Urban asserts that decadence “found the courage to name

the world and life in all its breadth and abundance, it was drawn to the possibility of

discovering depth even at the price of discovering its horrors and madness. The

recognition of the demons in one’s inner self was not only a memento but simultaneously

366 Ilona Sármány-Parsons, “The Image of Women in Painting: Clichés and Reality in Austria-Hungary, 1895-1905” in Rethinking Vienna 1900, ed. Steven Beller (New York: Berghahn Books, 2001), 237.

367 Quoted in ibid., 238. Date of letter not indicated.

368 Reed, 10.

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some kind of liberation.”369 The decadent artist was liberated through his ability to

discern the meaning (or lack of it) in life and come to terms with his own identity, no

matter how pessimistic or frightening the truth. Furthermore, he remained highly attuned

to the primordial nature driving his artistic creativity and sought to reveal this in his art.

In two untitled vignettes, reproduced in the 19 October 1898 issue and hovering

uncannily at the bottom of the page, Hlaváček rendered a disembodied skull and a man’s

menacing face (Figure 40). The juxtaposition of the two heads must have been deliberate

to signify the mortality of man. However, the image exhibits a distinct ominous quality,

“terrible and monstrous,” to both heads – a purposeful attempt to accentuate humanity’s

sinister nature, thereby echoing Przybyszewski’s supposition that “evil is primeval.”370

Hlaváček’s drawing Jaźń (1897) (Figure 41) further emblematizes this nature. Jaźń translates into “self” or “the I,” though the Czech title was actually Můj Kristus

(autoportrét) or My Christ (Self-Portrait). According to Urban, this portrait does not represent Jesus but the Anti-Christ, while “the Crucified [of the title] embodies the creative idea of one’s own suffering.”371 The face itself appears malevolent, dark, and

frightening; the eyes glare menacingly at the viewer. Interestingly, by utilizing the title

Jaźń in Life, the drawing becomes less a self-portrait than a visualization of the

generalized human Ego – to again borrow Freud’s term (“jaźń” can also be roughly

translated to “Ego” or “consciousness”) – and of the elemental nature of the human

being.

369 Otto Urban, “In Morbid Colours: Art and the Idea of Decadence in the Bohemian Lands,” in Otto Urban et al., Morbid Colours: Art and the Idea of Decadence in the Bohemian Lands, 1800-1914 (Prague: Municipal House, 2006), 68.

370 Quoted in Jaworska, “Munch, Przybyszewski,” 16.

371 Urban, “In Morbid Colours,” 68.

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Life’s Modernist Shift

Under Szczepański, Sewer-Maciejowki, and Górski, the goals of Life were still invested in redirecting the nationalist discourse, and the editors strove to demonstrate that art did not have be overtly nationalist to remain national. Instead, Polish art drew on a new visual vocabulary of Art Nouveau-inspired formal elements, personal allegories, and

Symbolist evocation of mood, departing significantly from the didacticism of previous art.

However, Przybyszewski’s desire for a journal that eschewed daily concerns in favor of metaphysical ones, his attempt to create a platform where the artist’s psyche could be manifested in visual (and written) form, introduced to Poland an entirely new kind of journal, one motivated by the editor’s attempts to set new artistic standards.

Under Przybyszewski, Life transitioned to a periodical completely removed from concerns of maintaining national identity within iconography. Instead, the journal underscored an international art (both Polish and foreign) that probed the depths of creativity and subjectivity. For Przybyszewski, personal expression and the rejuvenation of the national ethos could not be and should not be coincident artistic goals. Therefore, he promoted art that probed and expressed internal states, those primordial conditions completely removed from matters of national identities and concerns.

In Warsaw, Przesmycki, the subject of the next chapter, created a journal that likewise served as a rhetorical organ for his literary and aesthetic theories. However,

Przesmycki’s Chimera was no mere continuation of Life. In fact, Przesmycki had already developed a number of his theories long before creating his own journal. Furthermore,

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Przesmycki and Przybyszewski did not agree on every point and did not always promote the same artists. Yet, Przesmycki’s desire for a journal dedicated to “pure art” removed from all material concerns echoed Przybyszewski’s own.

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Chapter 4

Chimera and Zenon Przesmycki’s Polemical Essays: Artistic Ideals

Introduction

Unlike Life, whose editorial transitions contributed to dramatic changes in the journal’s program, the Warsaw journal Chimera remained relatively cohesive, largely because it retained one editor throughout its period of publication. Although Chimera

supported Young Poland and foreign modernism, ultimately the journal was the platform

for its creator and editor, the writer Zenon Przesmycki, who often wrote under the

pseudonym “Miriam.”372 From the beginning, Chimera was dedicated only to art and

literature, though emphasizing the latter. Its high quality art reproductions, artistic covers, and synthesis of art and text made it comparable to the best examples of European little magazines.

Though heavily promoting the works of writers and artists of Young Poland, it was evident from the first issue that the journal was truly an international modernist organ. In addition to publishing the prose and poetry of Polish writers, such as

Przybyszewski, Leopald Staff, Józef Ruffer, and Jan Lemański, by the end of the first volume Przesmycki also included works by foreign writers such as Samuel Taylor

Coleridge, Albert Giraud, Johannes Schlaf, Julius Zeyer, and Comte de Villiers de l’Isle

Adam. Foreign artists represented in the same volume included the French Gustave

372 Przesmycki, though the sole editor, did seek assistance in administrative matters of the journal. After Life ceased publication, Stanisław Korab-Brzozowski, who had worked on the Krakow journal, moved to Warsaw to serve as secretary for Chimera. He held that position until April of 1901, when he committed suicide. After his death, Jan Lemański served as secretary, also contributing writing to the journal. Barbara Koc, Miriam: Opowieść biograficzna (Warszawa: Ludowa Spółdzielnia Wydawnicza, 1980), 137.

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Moreau, the Austrian Gustav Klimt, and the Japanese artists Hiroshige, Hokusai,

Kuniyoshi, Yosai, Utamaro, and Shunsho, whose works were included in Przesmycki’s

essay about Japanese woodcuts.373

Indeed, if one compares the ratio of Polish names to foreign names in the journal,

the difference is quite small. Approximately forty-six percent of the writers and forty-

seven percent of the artists included were foreign.374 However, the number of works by

Polish artists and writers far outstripped those produced by foreigners. Furthermore,

Przesmycki concentrated on foreign artists whose works represented (for him) “true” art,

and, by juxtaposing them with works by particular Polish artists, he made the very strong,

if implicit, statement that these Poles were integral members of an international

modernist, artistic community.

Published irregularly from 1901 to 1907, Chimera consisted of a total of thirty issues in ten volumes. Although introduced as a monthly, it was published less frequently in its second year and, due to financial difficulties, did not appear at all in

1903 and 1906. Przesmycki produced about six hundred copies with twenty additional collectible, deluxe editions of each issue (printed on specialty, luxury paper). The issues were sold independently, most likely in cafés and shops, and were also available by subscription. Of these issues, only about four hundred were purchased, mostly by

Warsaw intellectuals. A single issue cost between two and three rubles (depending on its size), while a volume cost between four-and-a-half to six rubles.

373 The essay is discussed in the following chapter.

374 As in the Life statistics, these numbers are only estimates. The poetry and prose (including anonymous ancient ballads, fiction, and essays) of approximately 163 writers and the artworks of approximately 55 artists appeared in Chimera. Many of these artists and writers were represented by multiple works. See the appendix of this dissertation for specific names and titles.

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The journal was, in fact, quite expensive since at that time an average soft-bound

book cost one ruble. However, it was a costly publication to produce because of the

many reproductions, its size (the first and eighth volumes were sold as tomes), and the

quality of the paper, which was produced on special order in the plant of C.A. Moes’s

‘Pilica.’375 Yet, despite the hefty price, the money did not sufficiently cover the high cost

of printing and reproduction, and Przesmycki himself supplied the difference. Adding to

the expense were any special, collectible inserts, which Przesmycki personally reviewed

at the graphic plant of B. Wierzbicki. He discarded about a half of these inserts because

of flaws in the reproductions.376 Ever the perfectionist, Przesmycki sought to create not

only the most avant-garde but also the most beautifully-presented publication in Poland.

Przesmycki initially announced the journal via a handbill – or a “prospect” –

outlining the journal’s goals: “Chimera desires to be [the] sentry [and] temple of the

sincere, pious and ardent cult of art emanating from absolute sources.”377 The idea of the journal as a “temple” became evident in Przesmycki’s polemical essays, discussed in depth in this chapter, in which he stressed the sacred nature of “true art.”

Zenon “Miriam” Przesmycki

Like Przybyszewski, the writer and poet Przesmycki had already made a considerable impact upon Polish modernism, having published widely about both Polish and foreign literature. He wrote reviews and essays for many Polish journals, including

375 Jerzy Kądziela, “‘Chimera’ 1901-1907” in Wyka, Hutnikiewicz and Puchalska, eds., 245-6.

376 Ibid., 245.

377 “Być taką strażnicą, być świątynią szczerego, zbożnego i gorącego kultu dla sztuki z absolutnych płynącej siedlisk – pragnie ‘Chimera.’” Zenon Przesmycki, “Prospekt ‘Chimery’” in Podraza- Kwiatkowska, ed., 296. Chimera’s prospect was subsequently added as an insert to the first issue.

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Ivy (Bluszcz), The Voice (Głos), Ears of Grain (Kłosy), The Country (Kraj), Literary

Review (Przegląd Literacki), The World (Świat), Fashions and Novels Weekly (Tygodnik

Mód i Powieści), and Bibliographic News (Wiadamości Bibliograficzne).378 Przesmycki

was particularly recognized as a promoter of new, especially Symbolist, literature. In

1891, in an important essay about Maurice Maeterlinck, he wrote the first Polish analysis

of symbolism in which he claimed that “Great art, true art, eternal art is and always has

been symbolic.”379

For Przesmycki, symbolism was an approach to subject matter rather than a

particular period style (though he also underscored the Symbolist movement in Chimera).

Though Przesmycki focused on literature in the essay, his discussion also applies to the

visual arts. According to the writer, symbolist art “conceals elements of infinity behind

sensory analogies and reveals the unlimited horizons beyond the senses.”380 Art, therefore, should not seek to imitate nature alone but strive to reveal deeper, metaphysical truths that cannot be immediately perceived. Furthermore, Przesmycki distinguished between allegory, which he called an “artificial analogy,” and a symbol, arguing that “a symbol . . . is a living, organic analogy that comes from within [a form itself]; [it is] the rendering of a reality in which forms and sensory phenomena seem ordinary [and] familiar to those who are satisfied with superficiality, but conceal the depths of infinity

378 Koc, 19.

379 “Sztuka wielka, sztuka istotna, sztuka nieśmiertelna była i jest zawsze symboliczną.” The article was published in Świat as “Maurycy Maeterlinck i jego stanowisko we współczesnej poezji belgijskiej,” reprinted in Moderniści o sztuce, ed. Elżbieta Grabska (Warszawa: Państwowe Wydawnictwo Naukowe, 1971), 280.

380 “[Sztuka wielka] ukrywa za zmysłowymi analogiami pierwiastki nieskończoności, odsłania bezgraniczne pozazmysłowe horyzonty.” Ibid.

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for those who search deeper.”381 A symbol, therefore, serves as the tool for revealing

deeper truths. However, one can interpret these symbols in different ways. The viewer

who transcends the mere optical experience (of viewing an image) will uncover the

symbol’s true meaning. Conversely, the viewer who approaches a work of art purely for

a sensory experience will never move beyond that (surface) encounter.

Before creating Chimera, Przesmycki also edited the Warsaw journal Life (Życie)

(not to be confused with the Krakow journal, which was completely unaffiliated with the

Warsaw publication).382 In 1886, the year before becoming its editor, Przesmycki had

written to his friend, the Czech poet Jaroslav Vrchlicky: “The editorship […] of Life,

which is to concern itself . . . principally with fine literature, was proposed to me. This

proposition appealed to me. Fine literature, but especially poetry, has been relegated to

background in our press today – and owing to this has begun to vegetate somewhat.”383

Przesmycki deemed that such journals were necessary in providing vital platforms for new art and literature, which occupied a tangential position in periodicals that simultaneously incorporated social and political news and editorials. It was in bringing modernist art and literature to light that Przesmycki would make his great mark upon

Polish culture.

381 “Symbol, przeciwnie, jest analogią żywą, organiczną, wewnętrzną, jest odtworzeniem rzeczywistości, w której formy, postacie i zjawiska zmysłowe mają swój sens zwykły, powszedni dla ludzi zadawalajęcych się powierzchnią, lecz dla szukających głębiej, kryją w swym wnętrzu otchłanie nieskończoności.” Ibid., 283.

382 Life was founded in 1887 by Teodor Paprocki. Przesmycki served as editor from 1887 to 1888.

383 “Zaproponowano mi redakcję […] ‘Życia’, które ma zajmować się . . . przeważnie literaturą piękną. Propozycja spodobała mi się. Literatura piękna, a zwłaszcza poezja wygnana dziś została w praise naszej na plan ostatni – i wskutek tego poniekąd wegetować zaczęła.” Quoted in Koc, 23. I translate “literatura piękna” to “fine literature” since it has a similar meaning to “fine arts.” Literally, “piękno” means “beautiful” as in belles-lettres.

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In his essay “Harmony and Dissonance,” published in 1891 in The World,

Przesmycki maintained, “Art has a purpose in itself, it by no means aims to fulfill some necessary or useful function, […] but finds satisfaction in itself, [it] is both cause and effect.”384 That is, the artist should not strive to instruct or moralize. His views, therefore,

were reminiscent of the art for art’s sake movement flourishing in Western Europe and

Przybyszewski’s future essays for Life. In fact, this connection to the latter was not

accidental, since Przybyszewski and Przesmycki were close friends and shared similar

approaches to the arts.

Przesmycki first met Przybyszewski during a brief stay in Paris in 1894. The two

continued to correspond, and, in December 1899, Przybyszewski sent a letter to

Przesmycki in Paris, asking him to co-edit Krakow’s Life:

Listen to me my little Zenon – you can express yourself – you can accomplish much – you can prepare Chimera. […] In the moment of my departure from Krakow you can, if it appeals to You, completely take over the journal, possibly merge it with Chimera. […] Your name [is] respectable – but I will always remain an exotic animal in Poland.385

Przesmycki agreed to assist Przybyszewski and traveled to Krakow in 1900 to co-edit

what would become the final two issues of Life.

384 “Sztuka ma cel sama w sobie, nie dąży wcale do spełnienia jakieś funkcji potrzebnej lub pożytecznej, […] lecz sama w sobie znajduje zadowolenie, jest zarazem przyczyną i skutkiem.” Jan Żagiel [Zenon Przesmycki], "Harmonie i dysonanse,” Świat, no. 1 (1891); reprinted in Podraza-Kwiatkowska, Porogramy i dyskusje, 190.

385 “Posłuchaj mnie Zenonek – możesz się wypowiedzieć – możesz zrobić niesłychanie wiele – możesz przysposobić ‘Chimerę’. […] Z chwilą mojego wyjazdu z Krakowa możesz, jeśli Ci się spodoba, całkiem pismo objąć, ewentualnie zlać z ‘Chimerą’. […] Nazwisko Twe poważne – a ja zawsze zostanę egzotycznym zwierzem w Polsce.” Quoted in Koc, 131. The reference of “exotic animal” probably referred to Przybyszewski’s practice of writing in German – since he only began to publish in Polish upon his move to Krakow – and his associations with Berlin.

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However, as indicated in the above letter, Przesmycki already contemplated

creating Chimera while living in Paris, a city that continuously inspired the writer.386

Przesmycki’s own writing indicates his captivation by French and Belgian literature, which he later heavily promoted in Chimera. An 1889 trip to Paris, where he studied law until 1890, brought about his deep interest in French literature, a preoccupation that took precedence over his legal studies. Furthermore, the model of the French literary and artistic journal proved most influential in the creation of his own periodical.387

Przesmycki’s fascination with French and Belgian modernists also presented a

contrast to Przybyszewski’s preference for German and Scandinavian modernists,

particularly those engaged in artistic and literary expressionism. Przesmycki, as we shall

see, deeply valued the need for both beauty and universally symbolic (rather than purely

psychic) subject matter, and he likely felt that artists such as Munch, for example, relied

excessively on distortion of form. Yet like Przybyszewski, Przesmycki demonstrated that

Polish modernism, like European modernism, could and did assume various

manifestations.

386 According to Koc, he already knew from December 1899 that Chimera would be a monthly journal and had no doubts about its program. Ibid. 132. However, a letter from Przybyszewski to Przesmycki indicates that the latter was already planning his journal as early as 1895: “I am very intrigued by your project: of creating a literary journal.” [Zaciekawił mnie bardzo projekt Pański: założenie pisma literackiego.” Letter to Zenon Przesmycki in Paris, from Kongsvinger, May 1895 in Listy, vol. 1, ed. Helsztyński. Though conceived as a literary journal, Chimera’s incorporation of the visual arts became a significant element.

387 Grażyna Legutko discusses the French writers who had the biggest impact upon Przesmycki’s literary criticism. They include, though to varying degrees, Paul Bourget, Émile Hennequin, Charles Augustin Sainte-Beuve, Marie Jean Guyau, and Ferdinand Brunetière. See Grażyna Legutko, Zenon Przesmycki (Miriam) – propagator literatury europejskiej (Kielce: Wyższa Szkoła Pedagogiczna im. Jana Kochanowskiego, 2000), 130-150.

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Journalistic Influences upon Chimera

In an essay in Chimera, Przesmycki discussed the proliferation of Parisian “young reviews” that helped to overcome what he perceived as the banal writing permeating

Europe. Przesmycki was a proponent of the French journals dedicated solely to art (both visual and literary), such as Mercure de France, rather than those that also included political and social news and commentary. He observed a strong need for a purely artistic journal in Poland, which he felt markedly lacked such a publication:

Our few ‘young reviews’ have been occupied lately with everything but art and aesthetics; and in their appraisal of works of art, they almost always differed from most periodicals by their ‘progressive’ direction but very seldom in their methods of evaluation [of art]. However, aesthetic-literary studies, particularly those concerning contemporary literature, can almost be counted on one’s hands, in comparison to the whole mass of historic-anecdotal- literary treatises and monographs.388

In other words, there were too few Polish journals concerned with art and literature, and

those that did exist did not separate themselves sufficiently from general periodicals and

newspapers. Art and literature, for Przesmycki, had to exist on a plane completely above

and beyond worldly matters. However, the few ostensibly artistic-literary Polish

periodicals failed to accomplish this feat because they incorporated political commentary,

local and national news, and so on.

In his study about Chimera, Bąbiak provides an insightful discussion of the

European periodicals that served as precedents and inspirations for Przesmycki’s journal.

Przesmycki was well-informed about the little magazines and modernist journals in

388 “Nieliczne u nas ‘młode przeglądy’ zajmowały się po ostatnie czasy wszystkiem raczej, aniżeli sztuką i estetyką, i w sądach o dziełach twórczych różniły się od ogółu czasopism zawsze prawie ‘postępowym’ kierunkiem, ale nader rzadko sposobem i rodzajem oceny. Studya znowu estetyczno-literackie, zwłaszcza dotyczące literatury bieżącej, możnaby, w przeciwieństwie do całej masy przyczynków i monografij historyczno-i anegdotyczno-literackich, prawie na palcach policzyć.” Miriam, “Powieść”, C 3, 7-8 (1901), 316.

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Western Europe, and Bąbiak rightly indicates that Przesmycki incorporated a variety of

eclectic influences rather than basing Chimera on one particular model. Some of the

sources were fairly distant in influence, meaning Przesmycki integrated only a few

elements from these journals. According to Bąbiak, these included the artistic

approaches of the Russian journals Mir Iskusstva and Apollo and the aesthetic programs

of the British journals The Dial, The Yellow Book, and The Savoy. Other sources were

closer in correspondence, such as the high artistic quality of the Viennese Ver Sacrum

and the Symbolism of the French periodicals La Plume, Mercure de France, and Revue

Blanche, the German Pan, and the Czech Moderni Revue.389 Finally, the editors of all

the above journals paid comparable attention to overall design and carefully selected

contributing writers and artists.

According to Bąbiak, the biggest correlation with Chimera lay with Mercure de

France. Both journals shared a Symbolist orientation, an aesthetic focus on typography and graphic layout, and an emphasis on literary and artistic criticism. In a letter from

1892 to Vrchlicky, Przesmycki mentioned the journal as one of the best examples of

Symbolist periodicals in Europe:

You ask, to which symbolist organ [you should] subscribe, La Plume – that is nothing. Sometimes you will find there an article that is more interesting, however there is mosaïque sans but. . . . I believe that the two most significant periodicals are Mercure de France and Entrètiens Politiques et Littéraires, and of the two, Merc[ure] is more literary . . . and the eclectic Entrètiens . . .[is] more historical and anti-Parnassian.390

389 See Bąbiak, Metropolia i zaścianek, 178-225.

390 “Zapytujesz, który z organów symbolistów prenumerować, ‘La Plume’ – to jest nic. Czasami znajdziesz tam jakiś artykuł bardziej ciekawy, jest to jednak mosaïque sans but. . . . Sądzę, że dwoma najpoważniejszymi czasopismami są ‘Mercure de France’ i ‘Entrètiens Politiques et Littéraires’ a z tych dwóch ‘Merc.’ jest bardziej literackim . . . a eklektyczny ‘Entrètiens’ . . . bardziej historyczny i antyparnasistyczny.” Quoted in Koc, 18.

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Indeed, Bąbiak argues that Przesmycki may have intended Chimera to serve as

Mercure’s Polish counterpart.391

Bąbiak also draws attention to the shared features between Chimera and the

German Pan, whose elitism (at least at its inception) in seeking educated readers

culturally aligned with the journal paralleled Przesmycki’s own desires. The editors of

both journals sought to cultivate an intellectually and aesthetically minded audience and

placed significant stress upon typography and illustration.392 Yet, unlike Chimera, which,

with a few exceptions, included new cover designs for each issue, Pan’s cover remained

the same. In its changing covers, Chimera was closer to Ver Sacrum, with which the

Polish journal also shared the conception of art as “heilige Sache, a sacred matter, that should be conserved from the claws of mass-production and from a business-oriented art market.”393

Like a number of its European counterparts, Chimera was also representative of

the journal as a work of art in its own right. Przesmycki carefully considered every

element – the cover, the type, the illustrations, and the layout – to create harmony, a

Gesamtkunstwerk. Richard Wagner coined the word Gesamtkunstwerk for his operas, in

which he aimed to synthesize all of the arts in service to one idea.394 Fin-de-siècle artists,

391 Bąbiak, Metropolia i zaścianek, 204. In fact, Mercure briefly mentioned the inaugural issue of Chimera in its section “Revue du Mois,” emphasizing its high artistic quality: “Chimera, revue mensuelle de literature et d’art . . . vient de publier son premier numéro. C’est une très belle revue, avec gravures dans le texte et hors texte, imprimée avec soin. Elle est rédigée par l’élite des écrivains nouveaux polonais. Nous lui adressons tous nos vœux de réussite.” “Revue de Mois,” Mercure de France 37 (1901): 873.

392 Bąbiak, Metropolia i zaścianek, 210.

393 Pagel, 12. Chimera’s program, however, was significantly more elitist than that of Ver Sacrum, which, despite its refusal to “democratize art,” directed its content to a wide Austrian audience.

394 The concept of a “total work of art,” however, has its roots in Greek theater and is articulated in German Romantic philosophy. For a detailed explication of Gesamtkunstwerk, see David Roberts, “Staging the Absolute: The Total Work of Art from Wagner to Mallarmé,” Thesis Eleven, 86, no. 1 (2006): 90-106.

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who sought to create and infuse society with a universal language for art, appropriated

the concept. The attempt of Art Nouveau and the Arts and Crafts movement to unite the

applied with the “fine” arts illustrates one of the clearest espousals of the tenets of

Gesamtkunstwerk.

As this chapter will reveal, while Przesmycki valued the aestheticization of the

applied arts, he opposed their inclusion within the fine arts. Therefore, his journal never

served as the Gesamtkunstwerk in which the hierarchy between art and craft was

abolished. Instead, Chimera reflected the concept of Gesamtkunstwerk through

Przesmycki’s endeavor to unify every element of the journal – from the literary content to

the images to the paper and print. Therefore, perhaps a better term for Chimera’s goals is

“microcosmic Gesamtkunstwerk,” a term I borrow from art historian Angelika Pagel’s

dissertation on European art and literary reviews.395

Pagel utilizes this term to characterize the harmonious arrangements of journals

such as Ver Sacrum. For example, decorative vignettes appeared at the head and end of

certain texts in the Viennese journal. Rather than serving a solely ornamental purpose,

the vignettes functioned as “Einstimmung and Ausklang (a preparatory ‘tuning-in’ and a

gradual ‘tuning-out’) of the thoughts and sentiments presented in the text.”396 Indeed,

Chimera incorporated the same element, and the text and illustration frequently complemented and enriched one another.

Roberts also offers a historiography of the concept in “The Total Work of Art,” Thesis Eleven, 83, no. 1 (2005): 104-121.

395 Pagel, 128.

396 Ibid., 84

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In Poland, the desire to create a “microcosmic Gesamtkunstwerk” was already

apparent in Life, after Wyspiański sought to transform the journal into one both beautiful

in appearance and cohesive in text and illustration. His (and Przybyszewski’s) changes to

Life undoubtedly set the precedent for Chimera’s exclusive focus upon art and literature and attention to the quality of art and ornamentation on its pages. However, the artistic quality of the Warsaw journal was simply at a higher level. Chimera integrated what

Wyspiański never fully realized due to his brief tenure in Life: the concept of the

beautiful (or ideal) book.

Chimera as “Beautiful Book”

The idea that a book or periodical was itself a work of art resulted from the

revival of book ornamentation initiated by the Pre-Raphaelites and William Morris. In a

lecture delivered to the Society of Arts in 1892, Morris declared that “all organic art, all

art that is genuinely growing” – art that is anti-academic and anti-didactic – bore two

traits, “the epical and the ornamental.” The roles of these two attributes “are the telling

of a story and the adornment of a space or tangible object.”397 For Morris, medieval art exemplified these traits: “Not only is all its special art obviously and simply beautiful as ornament, but its ornament also is vivified with forcible meaning, so that neither in one nor the other does the life ever flag, or the sensuous pleasure of the eye ever lack.”398 For

Morris, the medieval book served as a model for the contemporary book, which should be

397 This paper was subsequently published in the Journal of the Society of Arts the same year. William Morris, “The Woodcuts of Gothic Books” in The Ideal Book: Essays and Lectures on the Arts of the Book by William Morris, ed. William S. Peterson (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1982), 26.

398 Ibid.

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a work of art in its entirety – from the typography to the illustrations to the quality of the

paper.

The accomplishment of such a feat necessitated several elements. “First,” Morris argued, “the pages must be clear and easy to read; which they can hardly be unless,

Secondly, the type is well designed; and Thirdly, whether the margins be small or big, they must be in due proportion to the page of letters.”399 Morris reasoned that letters should be closely spaced together, and, to avoid ugliness of the page, “no more white should be used between . . . words than just clearly cuts them off from one another.”400

Morris also favored an easily legible typeface of no more than Small Pica (11 point).401

Finding contemporary typography inadequate, Morris developed for his Kelmscott Press three fonts: the Troy and Chaucer type (based on Gothic typefaces) and the Golden type

(based on Roman typefaces).

Morris also argued that the two facing pages of an open book should be viewed as a whole and the printing on the page should be adjusted accordingly, in that “more space

[should be] allowed to the bottom and fore margin than to the top and back of the paper” rather than setting the print in the center of page.402 As to the ornamentation, he

recommended crisp and clear lines, “suggesting a simple and beautiful silhouette.”403 The

text and illustration should form a cohesive whole; that is, “the illustrations should not

399 William Morris, “The Ideal Book,” in Peterson, ed., 68. This essay was originally delivered as a lecture to the Bibliographical Society in 1893 and published the same year in Transactions of the Bibliographical Society.

400 Ibid.

401 “I take up the cudgels against compressed type.” Ibid.

402 Morris, “Printing,” in Peterson, ed., 64. Originally published in Arts and Crafts Essays in 1893.

403 Morris, “Woodcuts of Gothic Books,” 38.

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have a mere accidental connection with the other ornament and the type, but an essential

and artistic connection.”404

Przesmycki was undoubtedly familiar with Morris’s writing, though it is unclear

how comprehensive his knowledge about the British artist and writer’s theories was.405

According to art historian Andrzej Szczerski, information about British art and art theory frequently derived from French secondary sources (rather than the original English) subsequently translated into Polish, resulting in an incomplete understanding.406 In 1900,

Leon Winiarski published a short book about Morris. However, according to Piotr

Juszkiewicz, writers (such as Winiarski) merely summarized rather than fully translated

Morris’s own writings, and it was not until 1902 that one of his entire works, the novel

News from Nowhere (1890), was translated into Polish.407 Przesmycki was probably

familiar with a number of the available Polish translations on British art and art theory.408

However, since he was fluent in French, he also likely read the French secondary accounts about Morris and his theories.409

404 Ibid., 40.

405 He certainly read Morris’s theories about applied arts, which will be discussed in more detail in this chapter.

406 Andrzej Szczerski, Wzorce Tożsamości: Recepcja Sztuki Brytyjskiej w Europie Środkowej około roku 1900 (Kraków: Universitas, 2002), 90. See also Wanda Krajewska, Recepcja literatury angielskiej w Polsce okresu modernizmu (1887-1918): Informacje, sądy, przekłady (Wrocław: Zakład Narodowy im. Ossolińskich, 1972), and Piotr Juszkiewicz, “Identity and Reception. Polish Research on Victorian Art and Art Theory,” Journal of Victorian Studies 12, no. 2 (October 2007): 314-319.

407 Juszkiewicz, 315.

408 Such as the Polish translation of Robert de la Sizeranne’s Ruskin et la Religion de la Beauté (1897) or his La Peinture anglaise contemporaine (1895), translated into Polish in 1898 and 1901, respectively.

409 For example, Charles Ricketts’ and Lucien Pissarro’s De la typographie et de l’harmonie de la page imprimée: William Morris et son influence sur les arts et metiers (1898) or Jean Lahor’s “William Morris et l’Art Décoratif en Angleterre,” published in Revue Enyclopédique in 1894.

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Certainly, in seeming accordance to Morris’s suggestions, Przesmycki attended to every element of his periodical. He carefully chose and monitored the quality of the illustrations, ornamentation, and even the paper, releasing the issues and volumes of

Chimera in hardback book formats. Przesmycki also paid close attention to the

typography, which he desired to be both legible and beautiful, settling on a font derived

from Roman medieval characters found in an American catalogue.410 Przesmycki frequently utilized the double-page design described by Morris and also advocated by

Walter Crane, who claimed “the double page, when the book is opened to show the right and left hand pages . . . is the true unit, not the single page.”411 Even the size of Chimera drew it closer to a book than a periodical; the final volume, for example, was almost six hundred pages in length. Furthermore, the Chimera volumes were also released as hardbound books.

A number of Polish critics took notice of Chimera’s appearance. In 1901, for example, the critic Antoni Lange wrote in the pages of The Wanderer (Wędrowiec):

[Chimera] is a pure temple of pure beauty—an effort [is made] to pour beauty into everything, as much to the content as to the outward form. Firstly, as to its form . . . each issue of ‘Chimera’ is a true work of art because the printing, though merely

410 Kądziela, “‘Chimera’ 1901-1907,” 245. Przesmycki’s continued interest in typography is apparent from a letter he received from the Cambridge, MA journal The Printing Art: “Dear Sir: Replying to your inquiry of the 12th, just received, we are glad to give you the fullest information possible relating to the Elzevir Type shown on page 202 of your issue of June 1905. / This type is commonly described as Elzevir or French Old Style Italic.” Letter to Zenon Przesmycki from Henry Lewis Johnson, editor of The Printing Art, March 25, 1909, BN 5323 – Korespondencja redakcji ‘Chimery’ z lat 1900-1907. Interestingly, the Elsevier font (which Przesmycki later chose for his publication of Norwid’s collected works) was one Morris considered of particular low quality: “It is rather unlucky . . . that a somewhat low standard of excellence has been accepted for the design of modern Roman type at its best, the comparatively poor and wiry letter of Plantin, and the Elzeviers, having served for the model.” Morris, “The Ideal Book,” 69. Despite this and other obvious differences in personal taste, I have little doubt that Przesmycki took Morris’s concept of the ideal book seriously, though their aesthetic choices may have differed.

411 That is, “The type should be placed so as to leave the narrowest margin at the top and the inside, the broader on the outside, and the broadest of all at the foot.” Walter Crane, The Bases of Design (London: G. Bell and Son, 1925), 135.

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craft . . ., also exhibits the character of art and strives to transform itself into art […] The paper is beautiful, yellowish; the printing is clear, designed in a subtle manner, constantly changing its character; the initials and vignettes are drawn from ancient books or are the work of excellent draftsmen . . . – all [of these qualities] transform . . . the printing craft into real artistry.412

Lucjan Konarski showed similar admiration in the pages of The Voice (Głos) in

1903:

Among the modernist literary Polish periodicals, the top position undoubtedly belongs to ‘Chimera’ […] From the profound and valuable content to the strangely artistic and an outward appearance not previously exhibited here— everything in it was consistent in tone. This same spirit was felt […] in all the beautifully reprinted reproductions and in almost any vignette and the font, paper and format combined.413

In 1912, a few years after Chimera ceased publication, Zygmunt Lubicz-Zaleski

took the praise one step further in The Book (Książka): “In respect to publishing and editorial conscientiousness, ‘Chimera’ stood considerably above European literary publications.”414 Chimera embodied the qualities of the beautiful book and the harmony

of the Gesamtkunstwerk. However, Przesmycki was a writer, first and foremost, and it was in his essays where his approach to the arts fully manifested itself.

412 “Jest to czysta świątynia czystego piękna—wysiłek rozlania piękna we wszystkiem, zarówno pod względem treści, jaki i formy zewnętrznej. Więc przedewszystkim co do formy. . . każda księga «Chimery» jest prawdziwym dziełem sztuki, bo jakokolwiek druk jest rzemiosłem . . . to jednakże ma on również character sztuki i dąży do przelania się w sztukę […] Papier piękny, żółwaty, druk czysty, obmyślany subtelnie, co chwila zmieniający swój charakter, inicjały i winiety już to ze starożytnych ksiąg zaczerpnięte, już to będące dziełem znakomitych rysowników. . . wszystko to przetwarza . . . rzemiosłową robotę drukarską w rzeczywisty artyzm.” Antoni Lange, “Chimera,” Wędrowiec 39, no. 47 (1901): 924.

413 “Wśród modernistycznych literackich czasopism polskich, bez wątpienia, poczesne miejsce zajmuje «Chimera» […] Od początku głębokiej i wartościowej treści aż do dziwnie artystycznego i dotąd u nas nie spotykanego zewnętrznego wyglądu— wszystko tam było konsekwentne i wytrzymane w tonie. Ten sam duch dawał się uczuwać […] w każdej dodawanej, pięknie odbitej reprodukcji i w każdej niemal winiecie aż do czcionek, papieru i fo\matu włącznie.” Quoted in Kulpińska, 15.

414 “‘Chimera’ bowiem pod względem wydawniczym i pod względem sumienności redakcyjnej stała znacznie […] wyżej od pism literackich europejskich.” Quoted in ibid., 16.

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Przesmycki’s Programs and Essays for Chimera

Przesmycki always intended for Chimera to serve as a platform solely for art and

literature. Yet, even shunning political and social topics, which had to be carefully

negotiated in Russian-controlled Warsaw, did not guarantee the avoidance of Russian

censors. As Benedict Anderson argues, language was a powerful national unifier, and, in

Poland, certain words proved especially contentious to the authorities because of their

capacity to suggest of national unity. According to literary scholar Barbara Koc, to avoid

censorship Przesmycki introduced a “cipher” in his language: “nation” (“naród”) became

“society” (“społeczeństwo”) and “independent existence” (“byt niepodległy” – with its

suggestion of national independence) became auto-existence (“samoistność”).415 Hence,

“an ‘auto-existing literary atmosphere’ signified a situation in which the nation can create great art.”416

Yet Przesmycki’s ultimate goal was not directed toward covert political agitation

but toward introducing to Poland the greatest talents of Polish and European art and

literature in hopes of “elevating” society’s visual and literary taste and leaving a lasting

impact upon future readers. Though the works of Polish artists and writers predominated

in Chimera, Przesmycki continued Przybyszewski’s tradition of promoting international modernism in art by reproducing and publishing the works of artists and writers from various countries. He also placed art on the highest of pedestals. Artists were not

415 The word “samoistność” is difficult to translate since it can mean “independence” but refers to an existence apart and independent from outside forces, literally “auto-existence.” Przesmycki probably used “samoistność” since it was vaguer than referring to “independent life,” which Russian censors may have considered an affront to their dominance.

416 “‘Samoistna atmosfera literacka’ oznaczała sytuację, w której naród może tworzyć wielką sztukę.” Koc, 24. The Russian censors were far stricter about allegedly politically-charged language than the Austrian censors in Krakow, where Life was based.

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included because of their ability to politically inspire readers. Instead, their works

represented for Przesmycki the spiritual – sacred, in fact – goals of art and literature.

Furthermore, the Polish artists included within these pages represented for him the

exemplars of the Polish art world, those artists who effectively contributed to and could

compete within the international artistic community.417

The Goals of “True” Art

Like his friend Przybyszewski, who also eschewed didactic politicizing in art and

literature, Przesmycki was in no way unpatriotic. Instead, art for him served a higher

purpose, which he repeatedly stressed throughout the duration of Chimera. In his first programmatic essay, Przesmycki quoted the words of Polish poet Cyprian Norwid:

To be national, [one must] be supranational And to be human, [one must] Become suprahuman.418

Norwid’s sentiment reflected Przesmycki’s desire for an art that strove for ideals that transcended the earthly realm and patriotic duty and implied the sacred nature of true art, a concept repeatedly emphasized in Przesmycki’s polemical essays.

True and “sacred” art could not wholly depend on naturalism, and Przesmycki believed that the increasing critical attention paid to the technical proficiency of a work ignored art’s rightful goals. In “A Few Words on Criticism,” he blamed critics for

417 For a discussion of Polish artists’ adoption of modernism as a strategy for artistic competition and legitimization, see Brzyski, “The Problem of Modernism.”

418 “Aby być narodowym, być nadnarodowym/ I aby być człowieczem, właśnie że ku temu/ Być nadludzkim.” Quoted in C 1, 1 (1901):10. Przesmycki was responsible for bringing the works of Norwid out of obscurity. The July-September 1904 issue was dedicated to the forgotten poet’s works, and Przesmycki also published and edited Norwid’s collected works. See Cyprian Norwid, Pisma Zebrane, tom A-F, ed. Zenon Przesmycki (Warszawa: J. Mortkowicz, 1911-1946).

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disregarding art’s “real essence”: that is, “the impression, feeling, and emotion.”419 He

especially criticized artists who felt that painting simply demonstrated their skill and

mastery of technique. Technique, therefore, was purely a means to an end and served as

an insufficient criterion for judging the relevance and, more importantly, the value of a

work.

Appropriating the theories of two French historians, Francois-Charles Barlet and

Jules Lejay, Przesmycki maintained that the goal of art is true Beauty and the capturing

of Essence. He quoted several passages of the French authors’ original text L'Art de

demain: La peinture autrefois et aujourdhui (1897), in which Barlet and Lejay argued

that “the most important direction [for art to take] was the one that led to the spiritual and

ideal, and that sensitive artists should tap this ‘invisible world’ to raise human

consciousness to a higher, more universal level.”420 According to the two authors, an

artist must demonstrate:

1. psychic sensibility, that is, the ability to grasp fundamental ideas, taking to heart the poetry of things and their spirit . . . 2. formal sensibility; that is, the ability to grasp forms, as such, in their emotional meaning, regardless of the subject that they can represent; 3. The ability to adapt ideas into form and vice versa.421

419 “wrażeniem, uczuciem, wzruszeniem,” Z.P. “Kilka słów o krytyce,” C 1,1 (1901): 158.

420 Paul Hayes Tucker, Monet in the ‘90s: The Series Paintings (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1990), 209.

421 “1. wrażliwością psychiczną, czyli zdolnością ujmowania idei zasadniczych, przejmowania się poezyą rzeczy i ich duchem . . .; 2. wrażliwością formalną, czyli zdolnścią ujmowania, w emocyonalnem ich znaczenia, form, wziętych jako takie, bez względu na przedmiot, który mogą wyobrażać; 3. zdolnolścią przystosowywania idei do form i odwrotnie.” Z.P. “Kilka słów o krytyce,”160. The original French is as follows: La sensibilité psychique, ou faculté de percevoir les idées essentielles, de s’inspirer de la poésie des choses, de leur esprit . . . La sensibilité formelle, ou faculté de percevoir la signification émotionnelle des formes prises en elles-même, indépendamment de l’objet qu’elles peuvent représenter. . . . C’est la faculté d’adapter les idées aux formes ou inversement.

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While in a true work of art, the following must be met:

I. ideation, that is the conception (or, better put, the vision) of the Idea; II. an execution that does not limit itself purely to technical elements because also included are: realization, that is, the incarnation of vision, and a distinct style, that is, the artist’s individual way of rendering objects; III. finally, composition, that is, the arrangement of the subject; tying in ideation with execution and harmonizing ideas, vision, line and color.422

Matters of execution, namely, attention to form and technique, must be subordinated to

the Idea.

In fact, Barlet and Lejay, and ultimately Przesmycki, closely adopted French

writer Georges-Albert Aurier’s concept of Symbolism, which rejected realism in favor of

translating forms into Ideas. According to Aurier, “objects are only relative beings, which

are nothing but a translation proportionate to the relativity of our intellects, of Ideas, of

absolute and essential beings.” The role of the Symbolist artist was not to transcribe these

objects naturalistically but to “distinguish essences from tangible objects.”423

Przesmycki agreed that true art should be measured according to its ability to

translate the Idea into visual form. He argued, “The fine arts, like music and poetry, are

[works of art] to the extent that they can induce in us, consciously or instinctively, the

F.-Ch. Barlet et J. Lejay, L'Art de demain: La peinture autrefois et aujourdhui (Paris: Chamuel, Editeur, 1897), 25. Emphasis in the original.

422 “I. ideacyę, czyli koncepcyę (lub lepiej mówiąc wizyę) Idei; II. wykonanie, które nie ogranicza się do czysto technicznych rzeczy, ponieważ wchodzą w nie nadto: realizacya, czyli wcielenie wizyi, i odrębny styl, czyli właściwy artyście indywidualny sposób oddawania przedmiotów; III. kompozycyę wreszcie, czyli układ przedmiotu, wiążący ideacyę z wykonaniem i harmonizujący ideę, wizyę, linie i kolory.” Z.P. “Kilka słów o krytyce,”161. In the original: L’Idéation, ou conception de l’Idée; L’exécution qui, on vient de la voir, ne peut se borner au métier ; Et la composition ou disposition du sujet, qui doit harmoniser l’exécution et l‘idéation. Barlet and Lejay, 26.

423 G.-Albert Aurier, “Symbolism in Painting: Paul Gauguin” in Art in Theory 1815-1900, eds. Charles Harrsion, Paul Wood and Jason Gaiger (Malden, MA: Blackwell Publishing, 1998), 1026. Originally published as “Le Symbolisme en peinture: Paul Gauguin,” Mercure de France, II (1891): 159-64.

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sense of an unbreakable essence of being, infinity, and the absolute.”424 Art accomplishes

this only by seeking the essence of nature, not by slavishly copying it: “An artist must

look to nature not to copy the coat of phenomena [that is, something observable] that

shields its essence but, after reaching [its essence], to learn how to continue to create as

nature creates, that is by tying each detail into the whole of being.”425

Among the writers and artists whom Przesmycki believed exemplified these ideals was the recently deceased Czech writer Julius Zeyer, who the editor eulogized in the opening essay of the inaugural issue of Chimera. Przesmycki called Zeyer “one of

the world’s loftiest spirits, a reviver of the epic in all of its glory and power, a poet of the

profundity of pre-Homeric myths, [a poet of] deep dreams and unquenchable longing.”426

Rather than pitifully mourning the death of his “dearest friend,” Przesmycki viewed

Zeyer’s passing as the ascendancy to “higher understanding” which comes in the afterlife: “from the sleep of earthly life you awoke to an essential and eternal existence.”427 This “essential and eternal existence” also referred to Zeyer’s writing,

424 “Sztuki plastyczne zatem, podobnie jak muzyka lub poezya, o tyle tylko są twórcze, o ile zdołają wzbudzić w nas, bądź świadome bądź instynktowe, poczucie nierozerwalnej istoty bytu, nieskończności, absolutu.” Z.P. “Kilka słów o krytyce,”158.

425 “Artysta musi patrzeć w naturę, nie po to wszakże, by kopiować ten zjawiskowy płaszcz osłaniający jej istotę, lecz aby, dotarłszy do tej ostatniej, nauczyć się tworzyć w dalszym ciągu tak, jak natura tworzy, to jest wiążąc każdy szczegół z całością bytu.” Ibid.

426 “[Zeyer był] jeden z najwyższych duchów świata, wskrzesiciel eposu w całej jego świetności i potędze, z przedhomerowską mytów głębią poeta otchłannego marzenia i tęsknoty nieukojnej.” Miriam, “Pamięci Juliusza Zeyera,” C 1, 1 (1901): 1. Zeyer was among the many writers favored by Przesmycki associated with “decadent” literature. The editor corresponded with Zeyer from 1890 (when he lived in Paris) until Zeyer’s death in 1901. For information on Zeyer, see Robert B. Pynsent, Julius Zeyer: The Path to Decadence (The Hague: Mouton, 1973).

427 “że ze snu życia ziemskiego do życia zbudziłeś się istotnego i wiekuistego.” Miriam, “Pamięci Juliusza Zeyera,” 1.

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which Przesmycki considered to have transcended the banalities of everyday life and

reached greater heights, a goal every artist should strive to attain.

Przesmycki felt heartened by the examples of true art that he witnessed at Polish exhibitions, such as the inaugural exhibition of Krywult Salon – after its move from the

European Hotel, where it was located for nineteen years, to the second floor of 63 Nowy

Świat Street. There, he recognized artists such as Ignacy Pieńkowski, Konrad

Krzyżanowski, and Olga Boznańska for their ability to capture a portrait sitter’s essence rather than focusing solely upon a realistic likeness acquired through technical skill.428

For Przesmycki, a mimetic depiction did little to inform the viewer about the portrayed.

Instead, a portrait was “the rendering of the inner, spiritual character of the person, which endows the entire corporal exterior with special characteristics. The deeper the artist reaches, the more timeless, independent from the corporeal original, and autonomously alive his work becomes.”429 Przesmycki believed this form of portraiture was

exceedingly rare and exhibited by only a few artists, such as Leonardo in his Mona Lisa

and Dürer in his Self-Portrait at the Prado.

Remarking about landscapes shown in the same exhibition, Przesmycki praised

the work of Jan Stanisławski, who, for the author, exhibited the uncanny ability of the

painter to capture the essence of his subject. According to the writer:

428 The inaugural exhibition featured the works of many Polish artists – including Malczewski, Axentowicz, Boznańska, Chełmoński, Pieńkowski, Krzyżanowski, A. Gierymski, Siemiradzki, Fałat, Okuń, Pankiewicz, Ruszczyc, and Stanisławski – as well as etchings and lithographs by foreign artists such as Rops, Whistler, Klinger, Zorn, and Liebermann. In fact, the Krywult Salon was one of the few venues repeatedly praised by Przesmycki, who commended its dedication to Polish and foreign modern art.

429 “Oddanie wewnętrznego, duchowego charakteru człowieka, nadającego cechy specyalne całej cielesnej jego powierzchowności. Im głębiej tu artysta sięgnie, tem bardziej nieprzemijającym, od cielesnego pierwowzoru niezależnym, samoistnie żyjacym staje się jego utwór.” Z.P., “Salon Krywulta” C 1, 1 (1901): 164.

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[Stanisławski] brings to life the world of water and plants . . . he shows himself, especially recently, as a synthesizer who does not hesitate to sacrifice all the details of a landscape to either epic depth or breadth or to incredibly intensive luminous displays, in which he could rival Claude Monet despite their completely different approaches.430

By comparing Stanisławski with Monet, Przesmycki implied that (certain) Polish artists

were artistically on par with the greatest exemplars of modern art in Europe. Indeed, this

tactic of comparison, exhibited in Chimera through Przesmycki’s integration of European

and Polish modern art, legitimized modern Polish art for readers of the journal.

Przesmycki also commended Stanisławski’s ability to “symbolize,” namely, to

evoke through a single painting the much larger and grander scheme of nature.

Stanisławski’s works so impressed Przesmycki that he included four of his color

lithographs as inserts in various issues of Chimera. For example, Poplars (Topole), a

lithograph of Stanisławski’s 1900 painting of the same title, exemplified the painter’s

evocative (nastrojowe) landscapes and demonstrated what Przesmycki termed a “living

analogy,” that is, “a type of symbolism that . . . revealed the metaphysical reality through

suggestion rather than through allegorical devices” (Figure 42).431 In a eulogy for

Stanisławski, who died in 1907, Przesmycki praised the artist’s commitment to “looking deeper and deeper into nature, [and] going more and more beyond its materiality,” thereby subordinating the imitation of nature to his own personal vision.432 Indeed, this

430 “[Stanisławski] . . . prawie ożywiacz świata wód i roślin . . . wyjawia się, zwłaszcza w ostatnich czasach, jako kapitalny syntetyk nie wahający się poświęcić wszystkich szczegółów krajobrazu dla osiągnięcia bądź epickiej dali i szerokości, bądź niesłychanie intensywnych feeryj świetlnych, w których mógłby rywalizować z Klaudyuszem Monet, mimo zupełnie różnych dróg, jakiemi obaj idą.” Ibid., 166.

431 Cavanaugh, 124.

432 “coraz głębej wglądając w naturę, coraz bardziej wychodząc poza jej materyalność.” Zenon Przesmycki, “Jan Stanisławski” C 10, 28-30 (1907): 590.

187 quality is palpable in the above lithograph, in which the artist only suggested, rather than mimetically rendered, the poplars against a painterly skyline.

Przesmycki felt cautiously hopeful about the direction of art, owing to artists such as Stanisławski, who effectively captured the essence of a subject and thereby created an

Ideist art. However, the writer cast great doubt upon the public’s and critics’ abilities to fully appreciate and understand this art. In fact, for Przesmycki, the comprehension of a true work of art was a gift few possessed, and this belief resulted in accusations of elitism by some Polish critics. At the end of Chimera’s first issue, in the “Monthly Chronicle” – included in every issue and consisting of book and exhibition reviews, foreign correspondence, and brief announcements, among other items – Przesmycki included several short essays under the pseudonym “Tredecim.”433 In the first, “Laurowo i ciemno,”434 he argued:

For us art is among the highest and most sacred of things, and about which we can and dare speak only with sacred words, [which are] solemn and full of pathos . . . . Our words may appear pompous only to those who reject hierarchy and for whom nothing is sacred, who are used to speaking about the highest of things in the same common jargon that merely suffices in discussing the stock-exchange or street accidents.435

433 Most monthly chronicle essays were published under the pseudonym “Tredecim.” In the September 1902, the editor maintained that the pseudonym represented thirteen (unidentified) writers for Chimera. “Varia” C 5, 15 (1902): 504. However, the prose strongly suggests that Przesmycki authored these “collective” essays, as they reflect his approaches to culture and society.

434 The title of the essay is difficult to translate. It literally means “Laurel-ly and darkly (or obscurely)” and refers to the criticism that Chimera initially received after revealing its prospect. Critics felt the prospectus was incomprehensible, hence “darkly,” and even pompous, hence “laurel-ness,” which likely refers to the idea of crowing oneself with laurels.

435 “Sztuka jest dla nas jedną z rzeczy najwyższych i najświętszych, i że mówić o niej umiemy i śmiemy jeno słowami świętemi, solennemi i pełnemi patosu . . . . Napuszonemi przeto mogą się wydać słowa nasze tylko ludziom nie uznającym hierarchii, nie mającym żadnych świętości, i przywykłym z dawna do mówienia o rzeczach najwyższych tym samym żargonem potocznym, który starczy zaledwie na podawanie wiadomości giełdowych lub wypadków ulicznych.” Tredecim, “Laurowo i ciemno” C 1,1 (1901): 148.

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Przesmycki, therefore, implied that only those critics too ignorant to grasp true art labeled

Chimera as elitist. This ignorance, which Przesmycki considered to pervade Polish

society, contributed to the relative obscurity of “true” artists and writers, such as

Swinburne, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, Moreau, or Wyspiański, for whom art was not a mimetic practice. The public was simply incapable of understanding art that did not directly pander to them didactically because they lacked the “strength of feeling” needed to comprehend the Idea. Although each person held the ability to tap into this feeling, “it takes a great amount of work, discipline and culture to bring it to the surface,”436 for

which, it seems, most people had neither the desire nor the capability. Like

Przybyszewski, therefore, Przesmycki intimated only an elite audience (including critics

like him) possessed the ability to interpret and understand “true” art.

Internalizing the “passionate discontent” felt by artists and writers attracted to

Symbolism, Przesmycki found himself both isolated and overwhelmed in a modern

bourgeois society that (according to him) valued mediocrity. Seeking to create an

alternative to this existence, Przesmycki, like so many Symbolists, revived the Romantic

conception of the artist, which, according to Sharon Hirsch, was “based on the aesthetic

of artist as seer, or even priest, and able to make the ‘correspondences’ necessary for

great art.”437 That is, the Symbolist artist was able to see beyond the surface of reality and

capture the psychic or metaphysical “essence” of nature. In this way, he “saw” things

that were simply outside the grasp of most people, who were too preoccupied with

sensory phenomena. “The Symbolist genius,” Hirsch argues “was one who, according to

436 “Dla wydobycia jej na wierzch potrzeba pracy, długiej dyscypliny, długiej kultury.” Z. Przesmycki, “Los geniuszów,” C 1, 1 (1901):14.

437 Hirsch,162.

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their theory at least, was completely above the crowd (and normalcy) rather than below

it.”438

Przesmycki vilified artists who sought public recognition or approval by creating

the expository art favored by the public and numerous critics. “Popularity” was

anathema to Przesmycki, who repeatedly stated his disgust for the “mob” – the

reading/viewing public who accepted whatever the press popularized. For him, art had to

seek higher and deeper values – there were simply no exceptions.

Popularity and the “Mob”

In his first polemical essay, “The Fate of Geniuses,” Przesmycki made his

antipathy toward populism clear: “It is almost unnecessary to prove that the opposite

relationships of popularity of works of art . . . are their depth, subtlety, universality, immutability – in one word, their genius.”439 However, these qualities were increasingly

threatened due to what Przesmycki considered society’s democratization, instituted by

the French Revolution:

In an ochlocratic equality, we lost a hierarchy. We made mediocrity in man an ideal . . . and measure all according to it, and anyone who does not want to and cannot measure up [to this “ideal”], we stigmatized with the label of madness, sickness, abnormality, or with other once sacred but now insulting names: mysticism, symbolism, and the like.440

438 Ibid.

439 “Udowadniać biegunowo przeciwny stosunek popularności dzieł twórczych . . . do ich głębokości, subtelności, powszechności przestrzennej, niezmienności czasowej, jednem słowem, do ich genialności, -- rzecz prawie zbyteczna.” Przesmycki, “Los geniuszów,” 9.

440 “W ochlokratycznej równości zaprzepaściliśmy wszelką hierarchię. Zrobiwszy ideałem człowieka – mierność . . . wzięliśmy ją za miarę, i wszystko, co pod strychulec jej zmieścić się nie chce i nie może, napiętnowaliśmy mianem szaleństwa, chorobliwości, zwyrodnienia, lub innemi, niegdyś poświętnemi, a dziś obelżywemi nazwami: mistycyzmu, symbolizmu, i t.p.” Ibid., 10-11. In a review of Chimera, Piotr Chmielowski astutely pointed out that had Chimera existed during ancien regime France, it would not have been allowed to exist, and, therefore, Przesmycki’s blame upon the French Revolution is flawed. Before the revolution, the journal “would be subjected to more severe attacks than today, and this and that issue

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By abolishing high-class culture, the French Revolution failed to transfer it to the

“emancipated classes.”441 The resulting egalitarian society, an amorphous mob composed of all social and economic classes, was

uncultured; insensitive; incapable of feeling profound things and thus proudly rejecting them, hating all flights of imagination, arrogantly setting the material aspects of events, which they naively call life, against their essence, which they disdainfully call dreaming; opposed to any beauty of a great style and to any really creative poetry.442

Przesmycki argued that the degeneration of high culture resulted in artists lowering themselves to the level of the mob to increase their influence upon the public.

And the writer felt only the greatest vehemence for such artists. Yet, he also

would be publicly burned by the hand of the executioner.” [“[Chimera] byłby narażony na daleko dotliwsze, niż dzisiaj, napady, a ten i ów zeszyt byłby ręką kata publicznie spalony.”] Piotr Chmielowski, “Chimera,” Pamiętnik literacki 3, no. 2 (1904): 333.

441 Przesmycki, “Los geniuszów,” 14. In some ways, Przesmycki echoed such “organic conservatives” as Edmund Burke, who, according to Gene Bell-Villada, objected to the revolution’s “leveling process, the trend to equality unleashed by the events of 1789 (and of 1848 and 1871).” However, Przesmycki’s disapproval was toward a cultural leveling, whereas Bell-Villada discusses the objection to the socio- political leveling that imparted increasing rights to religious and ethnic minorities. See Gene H. Bell- Villada, Art for Art’s Sake and Literary Life (Lincoln, NB: University of Nebraska Press, 1996), 205-207.

442 “niekultularny, niewrażliwy, niezdolny do odczucia rzeczy głębokich i przeto z pychą odrzucający je, żywiący nienawiść do wszelkich polotów, przeciwstawiający zuchwale materyalną powierzchnię zdarzeń, które naiwnie zwie życiem, ich istocie, które wzgardliwie mianuje marzeniem, wrogi tedy każdemu pięknu w wielkim stylu, każdej istotnie twórczej poezyi.” Przesmycki, “Los geniuszów,” 14. In the subsequent issue of Chimera, Przesmycki revisited the consequences of the French Revolution by bemoaning the new art public, which he sought to understand “objective[ly]” as “people, who up until now had nothing to do with intellectual matters, were devoid of any artistic culture, were ignorant of any artistic traditions . . . too occupied with their new political and social situation to be interested in spiritual matters.” [“Ludzie, którzy dotąd przeważnie nic nie mieli do czynienia z rzeczami intelektualnemi, pozbawieni wszelkiej kultury artystycznej, nieznający żadnych tradycyj twórczych . . . zajęci zresztą zbytnio swą nową sytuacyą polityczną i społeczną, aby mogli interesować się rzeczami duchowemi.”] Instead, the public sought art that was “easy to digest” since “they could only be moved by works fitting their weak sensitivity and uncultivated intellect, touching their thick skin rather than their spiritual core. [This resulted in] literature and art that is biased, anecdotal, amatory, melodramatic . . . not demanding any subtlety or effort.” [“Poruszać ich mogły tylko dzieła odpowiednie do ich słabej wrażliwości i niewyrobionego intelektu, zatrącające raczej grubszy naskórek, aniżeli wnętrze duszne. A więc literature i sztuka tendencyjna, anegdotyczna, miłosna, melodramatyczna. . . niewymagająca żadnej subtelności ani żadnego wysiłku.”] The public rejected art that transcended these “lowly” elements because it smacked of aristocratic refinement. Przesmycki, “Walka ze sztuką,” C 1, 2 (1901): 324.

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acknowledged that artists who sought only truth to self and art’s higher, spiritual values

faced seemingly insurmountable difficulties, since the public, too ignorant and base to

recognize their genius, inevitably ignored them. Cursed to a creative life of solitude and incomprehension by the public, the true artist might take solace in “spiritual” rewards. By ignoring public recognition, “the spirit [of these artists] finally frees itself of ephemeral

things, ris[ing], purify[ing] and extend[ing] itself to dizzying infinity.”443

Przesmycki distinguished between the “genius spirit” and the artist who sought

only public recognition: “genius spirits . . . do not throw themselves upon the crowd; they

flee the banal and brutal noise of daily life.”444 That is, unlike the “crowd,” which aligned

itself with the material world, poets and artists of “genius spirit” detached themselves

from the earthly realm. They shunned tendentious art in favor of ideistic art; they valued the symbol over exposition. Because of their disinterest in public recognition, the true artist remained unrecognized, overshadowed by the artists who the public felt were

“closer to earth.”

It is no surprise that most of the artists whom Przesmycki highly valued, and whom he felt were overshadowed, were widely affiliated with the Symbolist movement.

The Symbolist, according to Aurier’s definition, was able to see past illusion and capture the Idea of an object, “while the imbecile human flock, duped by the appearances that led them to the denial of essential ideas, will pass forever blind.”445 Przesmycki provided the

following examples: “And so [George Gordon] Byron overshadowed [Percy Byshhe]

443 “Duch ostatecznie wyzwala się z efemeryj, podnosi, oczyszcza i do zawrotnych rozszerza bezgranic.” Przesmycki, “Los geniuszów,” 16.

444 “Duchy genialne . . . nie narzucają się tłumowi, pierzchają od banalnego lub brutalnego zgiełku wydarzeń.” Ibid., 11-12.

445 Aurier, 1027.

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Shelley, and the fame of the two completely obscured that of the immeasurably profound

William Blake. And so through the apotheosis of Victor Hugo, the star of the much deeper and more subtle Alfred de Vigny was extinguished.”446 Przesmycki also bemoaned that Alfred Lord Tennyson gained precedence over Rossetti, Robert Browning, and Swinburne; François Coppée over Baudelaire; and the “noisy, shallow boor”

(hałaśliwy, płytki gbur) Zola over Comte de Villier de l’Isle Adam and Jules Barbey d’Aurevilly.447

Yet, Przesmycki did not oppose all writers who were, in his words, “closer to earth” (that is, who did not soar to greater spiritual heights). For example, Przesmycki certainly did not intend to vilify Adam Mickiewicz, who he considered a great poet.

However, according to the editor, Mickiewicz “overshadowed” Słowacki and Krasiński because the ignorant public (“mob”), recognizing only what the popular press fed them, did not sufficiently appreciate the “genius” of these less accessible poets.

For Przesmycki, the public’s choice to embrace popularity served as a detriment to the “higher spirits” of literature. Moreover, a similar phenomenon faced the visual arts. “Who among the worshippers of [Edouard] Détaille, [Leon] Bonnat, and [Raphael?]

Colin,” Przesmycki asked the reader, “knows anything about Gustave Moreau? During the apotheoses of [Juliusz and Wojciech Kossak] is there time to consider [artists like]

Wyspiański? The Falguières are kings, whereas the Rodins and Vigelands are showered

446 “Tak Byron przyćmiewał Shelley’a, tak sława ich obu pogrzebała w zapomnieniu zupełnem bezdennego Williama Blake’a. Tak w błyskotliwej apoteozie Wiktora Hugo niewidzialną stała się gwiazda o ileż głębszego i subtelniejszego Alfreda de Vigny.” Przesmycki, “Los geniuszów,” 12.

447 Ibid., 12-13.

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with mockery and insults.”448 Przesmycki concluded “The Fate of Geniuses” by invoking once again the example of the recently deceased Zeyer: “He is a poet of the dream—this the world dislikes; he does not cater to the market—this the world does not forgive; he is a loner—for this the world does not know him.”449

Przesmycki’s sentiment about Zeyer can be readily applied to the poets and artists

he promoted throughout his journal. Namely, the editor sought to validate specific artists

and writers as geniuses of “higher spirits,” who, like their Polish and foreign

predecessors, were inadequately recognized. Moreover, Przesmycki undoubtedly

reckoned that his inclusion of these artists confirmed his position as a perceptive and

attuned critic who clearly comprehended genius. That is, he effectively segregated

himself from the public who lacked insight or even appreciation for “true art.”

In fact, Przesmycki viewed the relationship between true art and the public as a

combative one, as suggested in the title of his essay “The Battle with Art.” Przesmycki

railed against contemporary society, in which he witnessed “a continuous, increasingly

violent descent of the spirit, and the continually growing . . . hatred for all things eternal

which do not fit within the perceptual confines of earthly cognition and life.”450 This

statement suggests that the public was not only ignorant of an artwork’s true essence but

also increasingly antagonistic about understanding it. He challenged his readers, “Give

448 “Któż z wielbicieli Détaille’ów, Bonnat’ów i Colin’ów wie cośkolwiek o Gustawie Moreau? W apoteozach Kossaków jest-że czas myśleć o Wyspiańskich? Falguière’y królują, podczas gdy na Rodin’ów i Vigelandów szyderstwa się sypią i obelgi.” Ibid., 13.

449 “Jest poetą marzenia—tego świat nie lubi; nie schodzi na rynki—tego świat nie przebacza; jest samotnikiem—za to świat go nie zna.” Ibid., 16.

450 “Stałego, co raz gwałtowniejszego opadu ducha, rosnącej nieustannie . . . nienawiści do wszystkich rzeczy wiekuistych, nie mieszczących się w granicach zmysłowego, ziemskiego poznania i życia.” Przesmycki, “Walka ze sztuką,” 314.

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me one example, from the post-Romantic age, of an honorable and deep movement in art,

of one essential, great artist . . . who would not be pushed aside, mocked, insulted,

fought.”451 He provided instances of “attacks” against the French Parnassian poets, the

Pre-Raphaelites, the Impressionists, Baudelaire, Wagner, Henrik Ibsen, Rodin,

Maeterlinck, and Przybyszewski, “in a word, against all who did not want to descend from the heights to the depths or to renounce their soaring, fire, depth, which constitute the essence of great, genuine art.”452

The press, which could make or break an artist’s career and dictated popular taste,

further contributed to the spiritual devaluation of art, according to the editor. Przesmycki

felt that popular journalism, instead of employing good writers, retained profit-seeking

amateurs who cared little about their craft and sought only to please an ignorant reading

public. The writer lamented, “Everything is done and spoken for show, for immediate

profit or career or cheap popularity.”453 As a result, artists felt the need to “descend” to the level of the public and embrace commercialization, creating pleasing but mediocre art, to obtain favorably treatment from the press.454

There is little doubt that Przesmycki’s essay was a harsh denunciation of such

writers as Szczepanowski, who railed against “modernist” artists, and Nordau, whose

book Entartung accused modern artists of social degeneration. Furthermore, Chimera

451 “Z poromantycznych czasów, niech mi kto przytoczy jeden prawy, głęboki kierunek w sztuce, jednego istotnego, wielkiego twórcę . . . któryby nie był odpychany, wyszydzany, lżony, zwalczny.” Ibid., 315.

452 “na wszystkich, jednem słowem, którzy nie chcieli zejść ze szczytów na poziomy i zrzec się wzlotu, żaru, głębi, składających istotę wielkiej, prawej twórczości.” Ibid., 316.

453 “Wszystko mowi się i robi na pokaz, dla zdobycia bądź zysku bezpośredniego, bądź karyery, bądź popularności taniej.” Ibid., 331.

454 Ibid., 332.

195 was to serve as an alternative to such journalism by addressing the minority who searched for something more profound and spiritual in their art. In fact, Przesmycki very much cultivated the elitism of the journal. It was to function as the antithesis to the status quo, which represented “a total ignorance about art and literature, childishness in thinking and reasoning, a strange mania in analyzing art from all angles except from the only correct one – that is, its own – the habit of using obsolete concepts and platitudes which state nothing.”455

Przesmycki admonished Polish critics who refused to accept the new Polish art yet indiscriminately praised art from the past simply because it had entered the art historical canon. Although such critics, collectors, and connoisseurs possessed knowledge about art of the past, “they stand helpless in front of every new work by an autonomous [artistic] talent because they completely lack a deeper sensitivity, instinct,

[and] sense of art and faithfully accept the entire artistic heritage catalogued in histories and textbooks.”456 For Przesmycki, art of the past should serve only as inspiration, never as a model for new art. A true artist’s creative drive and “the new, contemporary forms that are the living continuation of the past” ultimately came from within; they are not tied to the external world.457

455 “ignorancya zupełna w rzeczach sztuki i literatury, zdziecinnienie poprostu w myśleniu i wnioskowaniu, dziwna mania rozpatrywania sztuki ze wszystkich stanowisk, prócz jedynie właściwego – jej własnego, nawyknienie do szermowania nic nie mówiącemi, przeżytemi pojęciami lub frazesami.” “Krytycy i recenzenci,” C 1, 2 (1901): 340.

456 “Że brak im zupełnie głębszej wrażliwości, instynktu, poczucia sztuki, więc, uznając na wiarę cały już zinwentarzowany w historyach czy podręcznikach dorobek artystyczny, stają bezradnie przed każdem nowem dziełem samoistnego talentu.” Z.P. “Sztuki Plastyczne” C 6, 18 (1902): 466.

457 “formy nowe, dzisiejsze, będące tej przeszłości żywym dalszym ciągiem.” Ibid., 467.

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As a disseminator of international modernism, Przesmycki emphasized the

important role of foreign art upon Polish culture, yet he also cautioned against accepting it indiscriminately. For example, he lamented that the Polish press only venerated the

“stupidities” found abroad while ignoring the truly estimable foreign art. He mentioned in particular the Pre-Raphaelites, who “only today . . . appear here and there in very poor

reproductions and with ad hoc ‘verses’” yet made little impression upon the public and

critics, who lacked the capacity to appreciate them.458

Przesmycki also admonished critics for belatedly acknowledging the Secessionist

movements (presumably in Vienna), arguing that the term “secessionism” had become a

meaningless label ascribed onto any new, modern art. Furthermore, the secessionist style

ceased to stand for the highest forms of art and, instead, represented commercialism and

popularization, thereby attracting the notice of the popular press. Przesmycki wrote that

“today, when the term lost its original meaning . . . when all ties with art were broken . . .

‘secession,’ thanks to the press, became in Warsaw a true obsession.”459 Furthermore, the

writer held little regard for stylistic terminology, supporting only “true” Art, whatever its

stylistic affiliation. Even his use of such terms as “symbolism” referred not to a style but

to an approach toward subject matter and the evocation of Ideas. The “Symbolist” artists

that he valued, in fact, were as stylistically disparate as Redon, Burne-Jones, Moreau, and

Mehoffer, to list only a few examples.

458 “ Dzisiaj dopiero . . . pojawiają się tu i owdzie w lichych reprodukcyach i z ‘wierszykami’ ad hoc.” Tredecim, “Glossy: Nadsceny”, C 3, 7-8 (1901): 300.

459 “Dziś, gdy termin stracił pierwotne znaczenie . . ., gdy zerwały wszystkie nici wiążące go ze sztuką twórczą . . ., ‘secesya,’ dzięki prasie, stała się w Warszawie prawdziwą obsesyą.” Ibid., 301.

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Though an artist’s popularity was frequently achieved via journalistic adulation, the public and critics often initially encountered artists’ works through exhibitions.

Przesmycki argued that artists, desperately seeking public recognition, too often accepted standards of mediocrity in hopes of exhibiting their own works. This resulted in large exhibitions containing a hodge-podge of “popular” styles. Such exhibitions were mounted repeatedly by the TZSP in Warsaw and TPSP in Krakow, for example, but were typified by the French Salon. They encouraged what Przesmycki derisively called

“showy” art – that is, art whose sole purpose was to stand out and attract potential buyers.

Rather than providing an enriching experience for the viewer, Przesmycki argued that these grand exhibitions produced chaos and confusion, exhausting the viewer with their sheer multitude and variety. According to the writer:

Works of art require stillness, a concentration of the viewer, but in these crowded stalls a terrible clatter reigns. . . . Colors, lines, and styles scream from all sides, the [paintings] fight amongst themselves, each competing for the viewer’s attention, stubbornly struggling for their own survival – and the average person must leave the exhibition with an unclear and vague impression, forgetful of any details.460

Przesmycki’s complaint was not unique, as art historian Martha Ward has shown. In the

last quarter of the nineteenth century, for example, the organizers of private and

independent exhibitions, such as those of the Impressionists, endeavored to separate

themselves from the Salon, which was increasingly viewed as “a marketplace rather than

460 “Dzieła sztuki wymagają zresztą ciszy, skupienia w widzu, a w tych kramach zatłoczonych gwar panuje straszliwy. . . . Barwy, linie, style krzyczą ze wszystkich stron, wydzierają sobie uwagę widza, kłocą się między sobą, walczą o byt zajadle – i człowiek przeciętny wyjść musi z wystawy z podobnie mętnem, niewyraźnym, szczegółu żadnego niepomnem, wrażeniem.” Z.P., “Wystawy zbiorowe,” C 1, 1 (1901): 161. Przesmycki, in fact, echoed the complaints previously made by Hermann Bahr, who derided the exhibition practices of the Wiener Künstlerhaus. See Hermann Bahr, Secession (Vienna: Verlag, 1900).

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a forum of public enlightenment.”461 According to Ward, “the ideal private exhibition

came to be represented as a haven for aesthetic appreciation that was removed from the

crass commerce of the art market, the divisive polemics of criticism, and the

sensationalized tastes of the ‘public’.”462

Przesmycki himself called the vast, crowded exhibitions “market halls.”463

Furthermore, the preponderance of the “market hall” exhibitions, with their chaotic environments and overstimulation of the senses, contributed to critics’ inability to perceive the essence of an artwork. In an essay in which Przesmycki considered the lamentable state of art criticism, he argued, “Slowly there developed, and grows today, a complete inability to feel any sincere or deep emotion from an artwork. No one today knows how to remain momentarily silent in front of it, and no one looks to sense anything; [instead] everyone comes to rule like a judge about its technical perfections or faults.”464

Przesmycki also decried the lack of new foreign art exhibited in Polish art venues,

whose responsibility should lie in “form[ing] the aesthetic taste of people.”465 Instead, they exhibited the “large ‘machines’ of [José] Benlliure, [Georges Antoine] Rochegrosse,

461 Martha Ward, “Impressionist Installations and Private Exhibitions,” Art Bulletin 73, no. 4 (Dec. 1991): 601.

462 Ibid., 599.

463 Z.P., “Wystawy zbiorowe,” 162. Again, Przesmycki echoed Bahr, perhaps directly borrowing the latter’s terminology about the Künstlerhaus, which the Austrian critic called a “mere market hall, a bazaar.” Bahr, 2. Quoted in Werner J. Schweiger, Wiener Werkstätte: Design in Vienna, 1903-1932 (New York: Abbeville Press, 1984), 11. I am indebted to Anna Brzyski for pointing me to this comparison.

464 “Zwolna rozwinęła się, a dziś wzrasta coraz bardziej, niezdolność zupełna do odczucia przed dziełem sztuki jakiebądź emocyi szczerej i głębokiej. Nikt dziś nie umie milczeć przed niem chwili, nikt nie patrzy, aby odnieść jakiekolwiek wrażenie, każdy przychodzi z poczuciem sędziego mającego wydać wyrok o doskonałości lub wadliwości technicznej dzieła.” Z.P. “Kilka słów o krytyce,” 158.

465 Z.P. “Sztuki plastyczne: Kolekcyonerstwo dzieł sztuki,” C 5, 14 (1902): 352d.

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[Francisco] Pradilla, [Václav] Brožik, and similar [artists].”466 He recognized that the

hesitancy to show (or the belated display of) new foreign works arose from the critical

insistence to maintain a national art. However, what resulted was the public’s complete

ignorance regarding new directions of foreign art – such as Impressionism and Pre-

Raphaelitism – and new developments in artistic genres and mediums – such as

japonisme and graphic arts’ revival. Przesmycki must have felt that this ignorance

contributed to the provincialism existing in Polish art.

Chimera’s goal, therefore, was to separate “mediocre” from “true” art and to

expose its readers to the latter, increasingly threatened by “art as entertainment” and commercialization. Indeed, this phenomenon represented for Przesmycki the worst of foreign influence and was exemplified by the German überbrettl, which staged supposedly “artistic” events. Przesmycki cautioned:

Art is not entertainment, nor a way to satisfy cheap sentimentalism after a good meal . . . The goal of art is what Michelangelo thought when he said: ‘When I read Homer, it seems to me that I grow by twenty feet.’ . . . But such inner growth cannot be imagined without the detachment from superficial life, without some kind of descent to the deeper layers of one’s own essence.467

Therefore, a place that claimed to serve as a haven for the arts “cannot be at the same

time a house of entertainment, pastimes, which consist in diverting the mind, making it

devoid of any concentration and inciting . . . indolence and carefree

466 Ibid., 352b.

467 “Sztuka nie jest rozrywką, ani też sposobem zadowalania tanich po dobrem trawieniu sentymentalizmów . . . . Sztuka ma na celu to, o czem myślał Michał Anioł, mówiąc: ‘Gdy czytam Homera, zdaje mi się, że na dwadzieścia stóp urastam w górę.’ . . . Ale takiego wewnętrznego urastania nie możemy sobie wyobrazić bez oderwania się od życia powierzchownego, bez jakiegoś zstąpienia ku głębszym warstwom swojej istoty.” Tredecim, “Glossy: Nadsceny,” 303.

200 absentmindedness.”468 For Przesmycki, the French had the right idea. They reserved a place merely for entertainment: the home of the chanson – the cabaret, the café-concert – where the artist (that is, the poet) may relax but would not deign to perform.469 On the other hand, in the théâtres d’art, “real” poets read aloud, and the site effectively removed art from entertainment.

However, this kind of site proved increasingly rarer, as the public sought diversion rather than a meaningful experience. Contributing to the conflation of art and entertainment were the numerous art and literary competitions mounted by Polish public and private institutions. In a “Monthly Chronicle” essay, Przesmycki stridently objected,

“We have always been against any kind of contest, on the basis of the law of the lowered intelligence in the psychological crowd, [and] because they lead to undesirable results.”470 His antipathy toward contests reprised his argument in “The Fate of

Geniuses.” That is, contests were directed toward public approval. Furthermore, no

468 “nie może być jednocześnie przybytkiem zabawy, rozrywki, polegającej właśnie na rozerwaniu umysłu, na pozbawieniu go wszelkiego skupienia, na wywołaniu . . . indolencyi i beztroskiego roztargnienia.” Ibid., 304. The word “rozerwaniu” derives from “rozerwać,” which means “to tear apart” (in a destructive manner) or “to entertain.” Przesmycki was most likely playing with the two meanings: as the mind is entertained it is also torn apart. “Diverting the mind” most closely suggests the dual meaning.

469 Ibid. For Przesmycki, someone like Artistide Bruant, for example, would have been considered an entertainer, not a true poet. Yet, as Jeffrey Weiss argues, the line between art and entertainment in France was quite blurred. Artists such as Picasso, for instance, readily participated in and appropriated elements of French popular culture and entertainment. See Jeffrey Weiss, The Popular Culture of Modern Art: Picasso, Duchamp, and Avant-Gardism (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1995).

470 “Byliśmy zawsze przeciwnikami wszelkiego rodzaju konkursów, twierdząc, na podstawie prawa obniżania się inteligencyi w tłumie psychologicznym, iż muszą one doprowadzać do niepożądanych rezultatów.” Tredecim, “Konkursy” C 1, 1, 150. In referencing the “psychological crowd,” the article cited Gustave Le Bon, who was, interestingly enough, unmentioned in the essay “The Fate of Geniuses,” in which Przesmycki repeatedly decried “the crowd” and “the mob.” Bąbiak points out that during his stay in Paris, Przesmycki first encountered Le Bon’s famous Psychology of the Crowd, published in 1895 as a series of articles in “Revue Scientifique” and as a book two years later. In 1899, Przesmycki gave a lecture called “The Battle with Art” to the Polish Artistic-Literary Circle in Paris, citing Le Bon in the original French. In the same year, the first Polish translation of Le Bon by Poznański appeared. See Bąbiak, Metropolia i zaścianek, 242-244. See also Gustave Le Bon, The Crowd: A Study of the Popular Mind (New York: Viking Press, 1960).

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contest could accurately award a “prize” to a deserving artist since the public refused to

recognize those artists who sought “spiritual” values:

None of the panting spectators is interested in who created a good work; all think about one thing: who won . . . [T]he painter who receives [honorable] mention in the salon is always popular to the public, even if he were a complete mediocrity, and the winner of the first prize of the literary contest remains such in the general memory for a long time, even if it turned out that the judges were shamefully mistaken.471

Artists who participated in such competitions only contributed to the devaluation of these spiritual values, while the public, too ignorant to identify real art, was duped by a panel of judges whose own ignorance was only slightly less than their own.

As in exhibition practices, Przesmycki argued that art collecting must be

thoughtfully approached, and he singled out for praise French collectors such as the

Goncourt brothers, Théodore Duret, Charles Hayem, Gustave Caillebotte, Paul Durand-

Ruel, Ambrose Vollard, “and others like them” for their ability to discriminate.

According to Przesmycki:

Thanks to these enthusiastic connoisseurs and collectors there developed a whole new French art . . .; thanks to them there could arise new movements and new individualities, pushed away stubbornly by official salons and galleries; thanks to them, French art criticism could pull itself out of formulaic and academic routines, without, at the same time, resorting to meaningless phraseology; thanks to them every intelligent Parisian today feels the same need of owning, or at least seeing, a good painting or sculpture as he previously felt the need to attend a concert or theater or read a book.472

471 “Nikogo z zadyszanych widzów nie obchodzi, kto dobre dzieło stworzył, wszyscy myślą tylko o jednem: kto zwyciężył . . . [M]alarz, który dostał wzmiankę w salonie, cieszy się zawsze uznaniem publiczności, choćby zupełną był miernotą, a zdobywca pierwszej nagrody w konkursie literackim pozostaje nim na długo w pamięci ogółu, choćby się okazało, iż sędziowie haniebnie się pomylili.” Tredecim, “Glossy: Jubileusze, rocznice, plebiscyty, ankiety, konkursy” in C 5, 13 (1902): 146.

472 “Dzięki tymto znawcom i zbieraczom zapalonym rozwinęła się . . . cała nowa sztuka francuzka, dzięki im wywalczyły sobie prawo do życia nowe kierunki i nowe indywidualności, odpychane uparcie przez oficyalne salony i galerye, dzięki im francuzka krytyka artystyczna mogła wydobyć się z formułek i rutyn akademickich, a nie wpaść jednocześnie we frazeologię bez treści, dzięki im każdy inteligentny paryżanin czuje dziś tak samo potrzebę posiadania lub przynajmniej widzenia dobrego obrazu czy rzeźby, jak dotąd czuł potrzebę pójścia na koncert czy do teatru, lub przeczytania książki.” Z.P. “Sztuki plastyczne: Kolekcyonerstwo dzieł sztuki” C 5, 13 (1902): 156.

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In addition to commending these collectors for exposing the public to new art and filling

much needed gaps in museum collections,473 he also applauded their ability to ensure a

market for artists who would otherwise stay unrecognized. For Przesmycki, modernist

collectors were especially vital in countries where the quality of art criticism and art

institutions remained sub par – an implicit remark about Poland. In such cases, private

collections completely replaced art institutions and exhibitions, becoming “the sole

foundation of art . . . [and] the sole source of artistic culture.”474 Moreover, it was the

duty of these collectors to make their collections accessible to the public, in spite of the

likelihood that the “uncultured” public would jeer.475 Ultimately, collectors served as

one of the most potent antidotes for the mindless mob and guaranteed that the art world

was not exclusively dominated by quests for popularity.

Beauty

In many ways, Przesmycki’s theories about art and literature were reminiscent of

Przybyszewski’s own: both stressed the sacred nature of art; both deplored didacticism;

and both believed that art had to reveal truths beyond material objectivity. However,

Przesmycki also demanded that art exhibit beauty, a quality Przybyszewski did not feel

was necessary. In an essay in which he decried the depreciation of beauty, Przesmycki

473 Specifically, Przesmycki praised Caillebotte for filling the gaps of contemporary art at the Luxembourg and Hayem for donating works by Gustave Moreau to the state.

474 Z.P. “Sztuki plastyczne: Kolekcyonerstwo dzieł sztuki,” C 5, 13 (1902): 157.

475 Ibid. Przesmycki, no doubt, referred to Feliks Jasieński, whose exhibition of his Japanese print collection met with public and critical censure. Although Przesmycki did not directly mention Jasieński, the second part of his essay – continued in the following issue of Chimera – discusses Jasieński’s collections and exhibitions, remarking about the controversial exhibition.

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attacked Tolstoy, whom Przybyszewski had criticized as well. Przesmycki called the

Russian writer’s proposition to remove art from beauty as “the most beautiful of

stupidities . . . [which] destroys art itself,” and he scoffed at Tolstoy’s declaration that

only those works accessible to everyone were great.476

In the essay “Applied Arts,” Przesmycki railed against the loss of beauty in modern society. He claimed that aesthetic sensibility was not innate and had to be

nurtured, but the ugliness pervading contemporary society undermined any attempts to

“aestheticize” it. Buildings, streets, cities – all were banal and uniform: “Daily life surrounds us only with ugliness, only with fabricated patterns, only with trivialities.”477

Moreover, the emphasis upon creating practical rather than beautiful objects only increased his ire. Przesmycki believed that the flourishing ugliness resulting from such utilitarian concerns contributed to people’s inability to appreciate “true” art. According to the writer, “an epoch has arrived of complete insensitivity and even blind animosity toward any creativity, any artistic quality, any originality because one who does not feel ugliness is unable to feel and properly appreciate beauty.”478 That is, people were so

anesthetized to the ugliness surrounding them that they no longer recognized it as such.

The burgeoning role of industry only contributed to this social de-aestheticization,

since the industrial worker had become increasingly accustomed to the drudgery of the

machine. For Przesmycki, Western European models, particularly the Arts and Crafts

476 “Najpiękniejsze z głupstw . . . znosi w rzeczywistości sztukę samą.” Przesmycki, “Walka ze sztuką,”317.

477 “Życie codzienne otacza nas samemi brzydotami, samemi szablonami fabrycznemi, samemi trywialnościami.” Z.P. “Sztuka stosowna” C 1, 1 (1901): 174.

478 “Że zaś, kto nie czuje brzydoty, ten nie może odczuć i ocenić należycie piękna, więc nadeszła epoka zupełnej obojętności a nawet nienawiści ślepej dla wszelkiej twórczości, dla wszelkiego artyzmu, dla wszelkiej oryginalności.” Ibid., 175.

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movement (though Przesmycki did not identify it as such), provided a solution to this

problem. Citing William Morris as an example, Przesmycki explained how the British

artist surrounded his printing press and workshop with beautiful things and how “he

wanted to gradually make art and beauty an integral part of life, something, like light and

water, without which you cannot live.”479

However, Przesmycki also cautioned the reader against this solution since it

(dangerously) conflated the fine and applied arts. The writer in no way intended to equate art and craft, and he maintained a hierarchical distinction between them. The difference lay in that, for Przesmycki, “pure art occupies itself with the eternal [and] with the enduring core of the person” while the applied arts, as useful objects, could never

transcend material concerns.480 Yet, according to Przesmycki, the only way to cultivate

beauty and foster a desire for the “fine” or “pure” arts was through “elevating a person’s

aesthetic sensibility” via the decorative and applied arts.481 Therefore, “everything around

us should be beautiful, every detail, every element (a book, table, house, glass, clothing)

should be characterized by an expressiveness of line, a nobility of color, and originality

of idea.”482 However, while the applied arts contributed to the honing of the public’s

aesthetic sensibilities, they could only serve as a stepping stone to the realization of true

art.

479 “pragnął powoli uczynić sztukę i piękno integralną częścią życia, czemś, bez czego równie niepodobna się obejść, jak bez światła i wody.” Ibid.

480 “Sztuka czysta zajmuje się wiekuistemi, nieprzemijającemi pierwiastkami w człowieku.” Ibid., 176.

481 Ibid.

482 “Wszystko dokoła nas winno być piękne, każdy szczegół, każdy drobiazg (książka, stołek, dom, szklanka, kostyum) winien odznaczać się wyrazistością linij, szlachetnością barw, oryginalnością pomysłu.” Z.P. “Nowe polskie ex-librisy artystyczne” C 9, 25 (1905): 155.

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Przesmycki also argued that the increasing critical attention to developing the

applied arts’ national or regional character – or “swojskość” (roughly translated to “our-

ness”) – ignored the more important attributes, namely beauty, originality, and inherent artistic quality.483 Like the fine arts of painting and sculpture, “the applied arts . . . must

be, above all, artistic, original, and individualistic.” However, applied arts tended to

more readily “degenerate to the slavish copying of folk art by emphasizing par force

external ethnographic elements, which is not at all its task. Would it not be better to

replace the word our-ness [swojskość] with the word talent?”484 This statement was undoubtedly an attack upon Stanisław Witkiewicz, the chief proponent of the distinctly

“swojski” (the adjectival form of “swojskość”) Zakopane style.485

For Przesmycki, focus upon regional qualities removed artistic innovation from

the creative process by dictating regional stylistic characteristics. The Polish artist

inherently and necessarily encompassed his regional character by virtue of being Polish.

The more important goal was to illustrate that this “character” was artistic – beautiful –

rather than simply “regional.” “Talent,” he argued “is always swojski [ours or regional];

483 The brief essay is attributed only to “Chimera,” but was in all probability written by Przesmycki. “Varia: Sztuka stosowna,” C 2, 4-5 (1901): 356. For a discussion about the concept of “swojskość” see Brzyski, “Modern Art and Nationalism,” 92-94.

484 “Sztuka stosowana, która . . . musi być przedewszystkim twórczą, oryginalną, indywidualną, może łatwo wyrodzić się w niewolnicze naśladowanie sztuki ludowej, w uwydatnianie par force zewnętrznych pierwiastków etnograficznych, co nie jest bynajmniej jej zadaniem. Czy nie lepiej byłoby zastąpić słowo swojskość słowem talent?” “Varia: Sztuka stosowna,” C 2, 4-5 (1901): 356.

485 Witkiewicz sought to create a truly Polish architectural and applied style that incorporated regional folk elements. In 1890, he moved to the Podhale region, believing the area’s architecture and applied arts could serve as the basis for a unique national style. Witkiewicz constructed his own architecture in this “Zakopane style” and “illustrated the scope for adapting the distinctive structural and ornamental characteristics of the Podhale mountaineer’s chalet . . . to meet the demands of even the most sophisticated of clients.” Clegg, Art, Design and Architecture, 120.

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on the other hand, one can be swojski while lacking talent.”486 However, beauty and

talent could situate Polish artists on the international stage since these attributes were

(ostensibly) appreciated everywhere.

Engendering New Artistic Ideas

Przesmycki’s polemics against didacticism, realism, provincial localness, and

public approval contributed to one of the most common criticisms bestowed upon the

modernists and Symbolists: that of “decadence.” From the first issue, Przesmycki began

responding to accusations of decadence, a label imposed upon him by the writer Teodor

Jeske-Choiński in the Warsaw Courier (Kurier Warszawski). Addressing his critic,

Przesmycki contended:

Sir, may you finally know that decadence as a school or direction, never and nowhere existed! Decadence is the absence of any desire, of any striving, of any creativity, of any talent, if you will, sir. In the cases where [someone] strives for something, desires something, embodies something, creates something, makes something original, one cannot speak about decadence.487

For Przesmycki, “decadence” was a state of mind and being, a social phenomenon, rather

than a valid stylistic classification. It was the mindless crowd, unenlightened critics, and

artists driven by fame rather than “truth” who represented the height of decadence. More

than anything, Przesmycki envisioned Chimera as a remedy to this degeneration, and, after a year and a half of publication, he argued that Chimera proved to be exactly that.

486 “Talent jest zawsze swojski; przeciwnie, można być swojskim a nie mieć talentu.” “Varia: Sztuka stosowna,” C 2, 4-5 (1901): 356.

487 “Dowiedz-że się pan nareszcie, że dekadentyzm, jako szkoła czy kierunek, nie istniał nigdy i nigdzie! Dekadentyzm jest to nieobecność wszelkiego pragnienia, wszelkiego dążenia, wszelkiej twórczości, wszelkiego talentu, jeśli pan chcesz. Tam więc, gdzie się do czegoś dąży, czegoś pragnie, coś wciela, coś tworzy, coś daje nowego, o dekadentyzmie nie może być mowy.” “Varia: Dekadentyzm,” C 1, 1 (1901): 184.

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Among Chimera’s achievements, Przesmycki alleged that the journal strove for and sustained the goal of serving as a “temple” for the highest exemplars of art. He also insisted that Chimera refused to follow any specific doctrine or distinguish between artistic and literary “movements” or “styles,” seeking only “the highest manifestation of beauty.” Here, the editor was somewhat disingenuous, since Chimera was clearly and largely motivated by the aesthetic and literary doctrines of Symbolism. Przesmycki also boasted that no other Polish or foreign periodical compared to its accomplishments.488

Not one to resist self-adulation, Przesmycki argued that in its (then) six volumes,

Chimera represented a “treasure from which [people] will draw, not only today but tomorrow and for a long time.”489

In the final issue, he bid his readers farewell and proclaimed:

CHIMERA fulfilled, for now, the most important part of its tasks. It was directed toward the small circle who truly desire new measures and values, new horizons and levels; [it] awakened deeper desires in artists and readers; [it] carved an indelible mark into living souls. . . . The collective of [Chimera’s writers and artists] will spread across the world—and instead of one common radiating focus, there will be many. The readers, no longer expecting future issues, will repeatedly return to the previous – and many previously unnoticed seeds will fall into their souls, since CHIMERA was not published only for today, and its content will not lose any value even after the years. . . . Deciding to make this issue the last one, we bid farewell – not without emotion – to the ship [waving] the Chimera flag onto which—do you remember friends?—we embarked with such zeal toward the sun, – and to you, the great artists, persistent and unbreakable – and to you, the few faithful readers, for whom our books were not entertainment but a necessity.490

488 Przesmycki, “Po półtoraroczu” C 6, 18 (1902): 478.

489 “[Chimera jest] skarbnicą, z której nietylko dziś, lecz i jutro, i dalekie pojutrza czerpać będą.” Ibid., 474.

490 “CHIMERA spełniła, na razie, najważniejszą część swoich zadań. Wskazała nielicznemu gronu istotnie pragnących nowe miary i wartości, nowe horyzonty i poziomy, rozbudziła w twórcach i czytelnikach głębsze pragnienia, wyryła na duszach żywych ślad niezatarty. . . . Gromadka jej współtwórców rozejdzie się po świecie—i zamiast jednego wspólnie promieniującego ogniska wytworzy się ich szereg. Czytelnicy znowu, nie oczekując następnych zeszytów,

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For a brief period, Przesmycki also hoped to offer the Polish public an appropriate venue to view true beauty. In the second issue of the journal, he announced the launch of the Chimera salon, intended to host a series of exhibitions (modeled perhaps on those presented by La Plume). The exhibitions, held in the Chimera offices, consisted of reproductions of artworks by both Polish and foreign modern artists and “Old Masters”

(such as Dürer), including original works from Feliks Jasieński’s collections.

Undeniably, Przesmycki intended the exhibitions to confirm Polish art’s deserved place within the international art community of “geniuses” and to legitimize not only Polish art but also Chimera and its editor, who recognized and valued the talent of these geniuses.

Yet, despite Przesmycki’s attempts to offer a site for “pure” art, the Chimera salon discontinued after the first few months. A brief notice at the end of the July/August

1901 issue indicated only that “for reasons independent of us, we are forced to cease the planned, future exhibitions.”491 Though the salon was short-lived, the reproduction of art

in the journal’s pages endured. Przesmycki introduced readers to artists who he felt were

inadequately appreciated (or completely ignored) and who reflected the tenets of “true”

art. It is to the visual program of Chimera that the following chapter turns.

niejednokrotnie powrócą snadź do dawniejszych—i niejedno dawniej pominięte padnie im w duszę ziarno, bo CHIMERA była wydawana nie na dziś jeno, i treść jej po latach nic ze swej nie utraci wartości. . . . Postanowiwszy uczynić zeszyt niniejszy ostatnim,—nie bez wzruszenia jednak żegnamy i sam korabl z banderą Chimery, na który—pomnicie towarzysze?—z takim w słońca wiodącym siadaliśmy zapałem,—i was, nieliczni czytelnicy wierni, dla których księgi nasze nie rozrywką były, ale potrzebą.” Zenon Przesmycki (Miriam), Słowa ostatnie” “C 10, 28-30 (1907): 597.

491 “Z powód od nas niezależnych zmuszeni jesteśmy . . . zaniechać planowanych na przyszłość wystaw.” Tredecim, “Glossy,” Chimera 3, 7-8 (1901): 330. It is unclear exactly why the exhibitions ended, though finances likely played a role.

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Chapter 5

Chimera’s Visual Program: Evocation and the Imagination

Introduction

From its inception until its end, splendid cover illustrations, special inserts, and

decorative vignettes defined Chimera’s artistic program. Unlike Life, whose frequent

editorial and artistic directorship transitions contributed to its lack of cohesion, Chimera’s

aesthetic conception, like its editorial program, stayed consistent. Przesmycki, who

maintained the highest standards in reproductions, illustration, and typography, remained

not only the sole editor but also the sole artistic director during the periodical’s entire

publication run.492

Chimera’s visual program can be divided into several categories. First, textual

vignettes and initials intensified the decorative properties of each page and

complemented the carefully chosen typography and layout. As in Life, many vignettes served purely ornamental purposes – as headers or footers, text breaks, and initials – and were reused throughout the pages and issues of the journal. However, Przesmycki also commissioned illustrations as visual accompaniments and symbolic evocations for specific texts.

Second, numerous full-page reproductions of paintings, prints, and drawings – several included as collectible inserts – were incorporated within various issues. A number of these illustrations represented works by foreign artists, both contemporary and long deceased, and cumulatively epitomized the art Przesmycki most valued. Although

492 Initially, Stanisław Turbia-Krzyształowicz played a role in the journal’s artistic direction (also contributing vignettes and initials), shortly accompanied by Adam Półtawski, who focused exclusively on the typographical component of the journal. Puchalska and Chmurzyński, W kręgu “Chimery,” 42.

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the artists – such as Raphael, Dürer, Burne-Jones, and Aubrey Beardsley – ranged from various periods, Przesmycki’s desire to promote their work stemmed from his attention to

beauty, his conception of “genius,” and his fascination with subject matter that evoked

myth and nostalgia.

Finally, Chimera uniquely contributed to the production of Polish art journals

through the quality and variety of its covers.493 Altogether, the journal featured twelve

original covers, four of which he reutilized for subsequent issues.494 The covers were

executed exclusively by Polish artists and, as the “face” of the journal, visually

announced and advertised Chimera’s artistic program: emphasis upon beauty, artistic

imagination, intuition, and commitment to modern art. Some of the covers experimented

with the lithographic color process. Mehoffer’s four-color lithograph of Pegasus (Figure

43), for example, highlights the rich possibilities and “painterly” attributes of

printmaking, which modernist artists sought to elevate to the status of painting.

Other covers played with compositional techniques, such as Okuń’s illustration of

a chimera, which only occupies the cover’s upper left-hand portion (Figure 44). The

majority of the cover page consists of blank space, with the exception of the journal’s

title and volume information on the lower right-hand corner. This compositional

approach, which essentially left the center of the picture plane completely empty, is

reminiscent of the designs of Ver Sacrum, most notably Mucha’s cover of a woman

493 Although Life, particularly under Szczepański, featured title vignettes, he did not incorporate changing covers. Instead, the title page included the first page of text, the journal’s title, and issue information. Under Górski, Sewer-Maciejowski, and Przybyszewski, a cover was added, but it featured the same image throughout the year.

494 These included Edward Okuń’s cover for C 1, 3 (1901) (repeated in the following issue, C 2, 4/5), Mehoffer’s cover for C 5, no. 14 (1902) (repeated the same year in C 6, 16), Mehoffer’s cover for C 7, 19 (1904) (repeated the following year in C 9, 26) and Okuń’s cover image for C 7, 20/21 (1904) (repeated twice in 1905 in C 9, 25 and C 9, 27).

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enveloped by her hair (Figure 45). Mucha’s illustration, though in a tondo format, is

likewise located in the upper left-hand portion of Ver Sacrum and is even similar in hue.

Such experimental designs indicate Przesmycki’s desire to create a journal on par with

European artistic periodicals.

Taking his cue from journals such as Mercure de France, Przesmycki promoted

art characterized by symbolism, which he defined as a retreat into the inner world of the

artist (as elucidated in the last chapter). For Przesmycki, symbolism (an artistic and

literary quality) did not belong exclusively to the fin-de-siècle Symbolist movement, and he felt no qualms about including Dürer, for example, in the same issue as Mehoffer. To him, both artists’ works represented the traits of the spiritual over the material and the subjective over the objective that the editor sought so admired. Nonetheless, modern

Symbolist art dominated Chimera’s pages, and, therefore, this chapter considers how the

Symbolist subject matter defined the journal’s aesthetic program.

Similar to Life under Szczepański and Wyczółkowski, Chimera repeatedly

presented a number of tropes. For example, the image of the “good woman,” particularly

in the guise of classical allegory, recurred in the Warsaw journal. However, Przesmycki

also populated Chimera’s pages with images of the femme fatale, a trope that occupied

artists such as Munch and Weiss, both enthusiastically promoted by Przybyszewski.

However, unlike Life’s last editor, Przesmycki was not interested in

“personalities”; that is, he did not strive to campaign for any particular artist (as

Przybyszewski did with Munch, for example) and seemed unimpressed with the formal

expressionism of Weiss or Munch (neither of whose works appeared in Chimera).

Rather, Przesmycki strove to produce a uniform symbolist vision in his journal, a

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Gesamtkunstwerk in which text, image, and layout all conformed to this vision.

Furthermore, Przesmycki idealized the past and vilified contemporary bourgeois culture and its supposed loss of beauty. Unsurprisingly, both nostalgia and fear played a significant role in Chimera’s dominant themes and motifs.

The first section of this chapter considers several of these recurring themes – including the reference to myths, allegorical women and femme fatales, and religious images – in order to analyze the journal’s artistic program. The second section highlights several prose and poetic texts published in Chimera and investigates Przesmycki’s attention to the interplay between text and illustration. This section also examines

meanings elicited by book illustrations when reproduced as autonomous images. Finally, the last section considers how Przesmycki recontextualized (and decontextualized)

examples from the applied arts by including them as independent illustrations in

Chimera.

Recurring Themes in Chimera

Woman: The Muse, the Allegory, and the Femme Fatale

Chimera’s images of women can rarely be read unambiguously and frequently

signal the fin-de-siècle simultaneous fascination and fear of women.495 A number of these images point to the male “passionate discontent” by casting women in the guise of the femme fatale, a theme likewise developed in Life by Przybyszewski. However, whereas Przybyszewski’s conception of women as the devil’s servants emphasized their

495 See Bram Dijkstra, Idols of Perversity: Fantasies of Feminine Evil in Fin-de-siècle Culture (New York: Oxford University Press, 1986) and Mathews.

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primordial evil, Chimera’s femme fatale images were rarely so straightforwardly sinister

and frequently conflated woman’s sexuality with her role as a muse.

Such ambiguity appears in Okuń’s November 1902 cover, which represents an image of the femme fatale but, like many comparable illustrations in Chimera, cannot be read as a clear-cut symbol of misogyny (Figure 46). A female apparition, against a silhouetted, mystical landscape, ascends from the base of a pedestal. The movement of her body causes the cypress trees in the background to sway in her direction. At first glance, her nakedness and grossly elongated, claw-like fingers invoke the beguiling yet bestial images of the femme fatale. Yet, she may also represent an anthropomorphizing flame. Art historian Małgorzata Biernacka, in her brief discussion of the image, describes the subject as “a woman’s body aris[ing] from the mystic flame on the altar of art.”496 Indeed, Okuń blended the conception of woman as femme fatale with that of

woman as muse or allegory of art.

The inability to read this image explicitly signals the dichotomous nature of

female imagery during the fin de siècle. Woman may nurture the vitality of artistic

ingenuity, but the femme fatale assures the demise of the (male) artist’s sexual, and thus

creative, potency. This dual identification was closely connected to woman’s association

with nature. That is, “both woman and nature were understood to contain a base, material

side. Both were at once feared and desired.”497

While women were capable of both harm and good, Przesmycki, reflecting the

viewpoint of many Symbolist artists and writers, seemed especially drawn to their

496 Małgorzata Biernacka, Literatura – Symbol – Natura: Twórczość Edwarda Okunia wobec Młodej Polski i symbolizmu Europejskiego (Warszawa: Instytut Sztuki Polskiej Akademii Nauk, 2004), 83.

497 Mathews, 93.

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nefarious “nature.” Among the most widespread methods to depict the femme fatale was

through woman’s role as temptress and seductress, such as in the work of Moreau and

Rops. In the final volume, for example, Przesmycki reproduced a drawing of Salomé by

Moreau (Figure 47). According to literary scholar Bram Dijkstra, “In the turn-of-the-

century imagination, the figure of Salome epitomized the inherent perversity of women:

their eternal circularity and their ability to destroy the male’s soul even while they

remained nominally chaste in body.”498 Rops, on the other hand, rejected the superficial

appearance of chastity completely, openly exposing women’s dangerous sexuality. In his

print La Grande Lyre, reproduced in Chimera (Figure 48), a naked woman holding a lyre

sits triumphantly on her throne; at her feet lays a pile of rotting decapitated heads.499 In

1922, Freud argued that the fear instigated by decapitation imagery signaled the male fear of castration.500 Thereby, La Grande Lyre, and even Salomé, whose erotic dance

prompted the decapitation of John the Baptist, might be read as another example of

women’s threat to male virility/creativity.

Polish artists, too, appropriated the symbol of woman as sexual temptress. A print

titled The Queen of the Spiders by Tymon Niesiołowski (Figure 49), for example, depicts

the femme fatale as a predator calmly anticipating her prey, her bare breasts proffered as

bait. She suggests the black widow spider, which mates with her partner before

consuming him, thus underscoring women’s bestial and preying “nature.” A vignette by

Mehoffer in the third issue represents a woman, perched on a ledge, in a low cut dress

498 Dijsksta, 384.

499 Przesmycki may have encountered the reproduction in La Plume, where it appeared in 1896. According to the caption accompanying the La Plume illustration, Rops’ image originally served as a frontispiece for an edited volume of Mallarmé’s works. See La Plume no.172 (15 juin 1896): 424.

500 See Sigmund Freud, “Medusa’s Head” in The Standard Edition of the Complete Psychological Works of Sigmund Freud, vol. 17-18, ed. James Strachey (London: Hogarth Press, 1955).

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and bare feet accompanied by a decomposing child – a modern Venus and cupid (Figure

50). She is the complete antithesis to the Polish Mother, indicating a move away from past national models in favor of uncovering underlying “truths” about women’s nature.

Mehoffer’s and Niesiołowski’s images, therefore, joined a repertoire of others employing

the pan-European modernist trope of femme fatale.

Konrad Krzyżanowski’s cover for the September 1901 issue, meanwhile, represents woman as haunting specter emerging from the dark (Figure 51). His image

denoted either a symbolic or actual representation of Przybyszewski’s wife Dagny

Przybyszewska (née Juel), who had been recently murdered by her young friend and

admirer, Władysław Emeryk.501 Dagny was desired by a number of her husband’s

friends, most notably Strindberg and Munch, both of whom purportedly had brief relationships with her. In fact, Krzyżanowski’s image recalls the latter’s haunting and

predatory femme fatales. Munch also depicted figures shrouded by “auras” or “halos” of

muted colors, most notably in his famous image of the Madonna.502 Przesmycki possibly chose Krzyżanowski’s image for the cover as a tribute to Przybyszewski, his close friend and recent widower, who would have appreciated the evocative and expressive Munchian image.

501 Przybyszewska was murdered on June 5, 1901 by Emeryk, who, after killing her, turned the gun on himself. In letters addressed to Dagny’s husband and son, written by Emeryk before the murder and unsealed and read after Dagny’s death, he declared (to Przybyszewski): “I’m killing her for her own sake”; and (to her five-year old son): “She was not of this world, she was far too ethereal for anyone to understand her true nature.” Quoted in Mary Kay Norseng, Dagny: Dagny Juel Przybyszewska, The Woman and the Myth (Seattle: University of Washington Press, 1991), 63.

502 During Munch’s lifetime, rumors suggested that Przybyszewska posed for the famous Madonna, but a letter from Munch affirmed she was not the model, though he conceded there was a strong resemblance. See the discussion of the letters in Mary Kay Norseng, 11-12. Perhaps the rumors contributed to the affinities of Krzyżanowski’s image with Munch’s Madonna.

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Dagny was one of only a few women among the Berlin literary circle of the Zum

Schwarze Ferkel café. While her magnetic personality inspired admiration, her

unconventional behavior instigated trepidation, and she was often regarded as a femme fatale. As the corporeal manifestation of both muse and femme fatale, Dagny was an ideal subject for Chimera, which frequently represented women as ambiguous beings.

According to Bąbiak, depictions of the femme fatale may have served as “retorts

to earlier images [of women] as Polonia, wife, or widow of the insurrectionist.”503

Undoubtedly, Przesmycki was motivated by his desire to reject the didacticism of past

Polish art. Yet, these images might also be read as warnings about seduction and false pleasures. The femme fatale, after all, symbolized an illusion – immorality “clothed” in artifice and beauty, and Przesmycki derided these qualities’ ubiquity in contemporary culture. As the last chapter indicates, the illusory was manifested in popular exhibitions, whose ostentation concealed the inclusion of predominantly “mediocre” art, and in spectacles of chansons and cabarets providing “entertainment” in the guise of poetry.

The femme fatale functioned as an ideal metaphor for the deception one encountered in a degenerating culture.

However, images of women also frequently served as allegories, personifications, and representations of mythic and fictional characters. On the first cover for Chimera, for instance, a nude woman blows air in the direction of an oil lamp, which she holds in her outstretched hand (Figure 52). According to Biernacka, the image may have been inspired by Franz van Stuck’s poster of the helmeted Athena against a similar mosaic

503 Bąbiak, Metropolia i zaścianek, 305.

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background, executed for the 1893 Munich Secession exhibition.504 The identity of

Okuń’s subject, however, remains unclear – she might be an allegory or a representation of a goddess – but her specific allegorical association is completely tangential. Indeed, the image should be read as a metaphor for inspiration. As Biernacka contends, she serves as a muse kindling the flame of the “new” art and literature.505 As she blows

gently on the lamp, bringing it to life, she encourages the flame of inspiration to spread.

Okuń did not intend to portray a specific person or an allegorical figure but to evoke

emotions and stir the viewer inwardly.

Though Okuń’s image for the first cover invites a seemingly hopeful

interpretation, his image for Chimera’s final cover does quite the opposite (Figure 53). A

bare-breasted woman holds a lantern, dangling it over an embankment. In the distance,

an array of ships sails away. According to Biernacka, Okuń may have wanted to invoke

the mythological Hero, a priestess of Aphrodite. 506 According to the Greek myth, Hero,

waiting in her tower in Sestos, lit a lantern to guide her lover Leander as he swam across

the Hellespont to meet her. On an unusually blustery day, the wind extinguished her

lamp, and Leander, unable to see, drowned. Distraught at her lover’s death, Hero

committed suicide by throwing herself over the tower. Just as Hero felt desperation and

longing during her vigils, the figure in Okuń’s cover image exudes despair and

apprehension, directing her lantern to illuminate the depths below and opening her mouth

in a shout. The image serves as an allegory for Chimera, which acted as a beacon, a

504 Biernacka, 95.

505 Ibid.

506 Ibid., 90.

218 metaphorical light, for those sympathetic to “true” art. However, like Hero’s flame,

Chimera’s “light” was fated to extinguish, and the word “final” is clearly indicated on the cover of the issue.

Okuń also created one of Chimera’s most vibrant covers, a rich six-color lithograph for issue 20/21 in 1903 (Figure 54).507 The image portrays a woman, her eyes closed and head bowed, crowned with a diadem of poppies and draped in a blue robe covered with crescent moons. She likely either represents a personification of Night or the goddess Nyx. Poppies, with their sleep-inducing properties, frequently appeared in images of the personification of Night as well as the gods Hypnos and Morpheus, who, like Nyx, were associated with sleep.508 The background of a starry sky and the swaths of spiraling cloth suggest weightlessness and the state of sleep and dreaming.

The motif of sleep appeared in numerous representations in Chimera, including

Okuń’s print of the bust of a woman, her head bowed in sleep (Figure 55), and two images by Fernand Khnopff: a print of Dreaming Woman – Nevermore (1900) (Figure

56) and his frontispiece for Rodenbach’s novel Bruges-la-Morte (1892) (Figure 57), which explores the psychic state of a man’s immersion (after the death of his wife) in the

“dead city” of Bruges.509 These images of soporific subjects correspond to the motif of silence discussed by Robert Goldwater in his study of Symbolism. According to the author:

Silence was . . . not merely the simple absence of sound, nor was it an end in itself: one cultivated silences as a means of shutting out appearances in order to

507 The cover was reprised again for the 25th issue in 1905.

508 See entries for “poppies” and “Night” in James Hall, Dictionary of Subjects and Symbols in Art (Boulder: Westview Press, 1974).

509 Georges Rodenbach, Bruges-la-Morte (Paris: Flammarion, 1892).

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concentrate upon essence, and so isolation became the condition through which the artist could ignore the material and thus be able to penetrate the spiritual.510

Przesmycki greatly emphasized the necessity for the artist and writer to transcend the

noise and tumult of daily life. Hence, Okuń’s image of Nyx indicates a complete escape from reality, expressing introspection and the internal state beyond appearances. Night, and the dreaming that accompanies it, transports a person to the realm of fantasy – a place of infinite possibilities outside of material existence.

The images of women in Chimera, therefore, constituted a myriad of possibilities.

Muses and women as sources of inspiration reflected the manner in which Symbolist artists “extolled the ‘feminine’ traits of intuition, expression, and emotion.”511

Conversely, woman as femme fatale, through her ability to sap male creative vitality, represented the subversion of these traits. Furthermore, woman’s dichotomous nature served as an allegory for the artist’s own internal struggle between creating a meaningful, psychically and spiritually evocative art and generating popular (and thus false and illusory) works for “mob” consumption.

Finally, the female motif strongly preoccupied numerous European modernists, who continually inscribed it with metaphorical, allegorical, and personal meaning. Thus, the Polish artists (and writers) who appropriated the motif for similar symbolic purposes determinedly demonstrated that they understood and embraced the Symbolist language.

Przesmycki, therefore, felt no compunction about including the works of Okuń, for example, among the works of Symbolist “masters” such as Khnopff or Moreau, since

510 Goldwater, 29.

511 Mathews, 216.

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both presented the female motif in strikingly modern ways. For Przesmycki, the Polish

versions of this motif fit neatly into the modernist visual language.

Mythical Creatures: The Chimera

In the introductory essay to the exhibition catalogue Lost Paradise, art historian

Jean Clair argues that “Symbolism was like Janus: looking back towards the past with a

nostalgia that unexpectedly revived a host of divinities, angels and heroes whose wings

and haloes Courbet and his friends thought to have amputated and doused for good.”512

Art historian Guy Cogeval concurs, stating “ancient myths made a triumphant reappearance at the turn of the [nineteenth] century, when various schools of thought rejected the modern world, with its poverty, divisions and conflicts, and harked back to an idealized Golden Age or an idyllic Middle Ages.”513

What distinguished the Symbolists’ appropriation of mythology from that of such

artists as Alexandre Cabanel or William-Adolphe Bougereau, who also revived classical

fables, was the Symbolists’ reinterpretation of these myths. Rather than preserving literal

interpretations, Symbolist artists relied upon their imaginations to provide inspiration for

the retelling of older myths and legends, and their final conceptions combined the literal

with the imaginative. In other words, while Symbolists invoked mythic creatures as

metaphors for the psyche, artists such as Cabanel employed them as elements of narrative

storytelling. Cogeval maintains that for Moreau, for example, “the meaning of a myth

512 Jean Clair, “Lost Paradise” in Lost Paradise: Symbolist Europe, exh. cat. (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1995), 17.

513 Guy Cogeval, “The Waning of Culture” in Lost Paradise, 25.

221 was the starting point for the poet’s imagination, for the awakening of private longings that lay buried dormant in his consciousness.”514

Numerous images in Chimera express this desire to escape into the imagination, and almost every issue featured fantastical species and nostalgic visions from the past: the flying Pegasus, the silently watchful Sphinx, the medieval knight, and, of course, the beastly chimera. Examples of the latter motif in the pages of the journal reveal the chimera’s multivalent symbolism and its relevance as a modernist subject, one that thereby signaled Chimera’s own modernism.

The chimera derives from the Homeric myth of Bellerophon, a young warrior who slew the monstrous fire-breathing creature with the hybrid body of a goat, lion, and dragon. Artists and writers, including numerous translators of the Iliad, reconstituted the chimera in assorted manners: the head appears variously as that of a lion, a goat, or a human; the tail, that of a dragon or of a serpent.

Undoubtedly, Przesmycki chose images of chimeras, which appeared on multiple covers, to function as logographs for the journal’s title. One example includes

Mehoffer’s cover illustration of a flying chimera with the head of both a lion and goat and the tail in the form of a serpent, fangs bared for attack (Figure 58). In another example, Stanisław Dębicki’s cover illustration for issue 7/8, a ferocious chimera – with a snarling lion’s head, a bucking goat’s body, and the thick and coiling tail of a serpent – spurts flames from its growling maw (Figure 59).

But how did the chimera motif contribute to Przesmycki’s program? First, it belonged to the genre of mythological creatures adopted by numerous modernist journals,

514 Ibid.

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among which Przesmycki sought to insert his own. The creators of Berlin’s Pan, for

example, incorporated the satyr god as the journal’s permanent cover image and adopted

his name as its title. Several short-lived French journals, such as Le Centaure (1896), Le

Sagittaire (1900-1), and Paris’s own Chimère (1891-93), also appropriated mythological

monikers.

Second, the chimera as symbol yielded numerous interpretations. Eventually,

the specificity associated with the word “chimera” (a particular type of monster) was lost,

yielding a generalized meaning that referred to any monstrous creature. Art historian

Urszula Makowska, interrogating the French word “le chimère,” points out the various

synonyms it assumed: “fantôme, folie, idée, illusion, imagination, mirage, ombre,

rêvasserie, rêve, roman, songe, utopie, [and] vision.”515 In Polish, the word took on

similarly ambiguous meanings. A 1900 edition Polish dictionary defines the chimera as:

“1. an imaginary frightening [creature], monster, delusion, specter (…); 2. imagination,

daydream, fantasy, fancy (…); 3. a peculiarity, caprice, grimace (…); 4. an eccentric.”516

According to Makowska, Przesmycki chose the title for its mythological meaning but was also probably fully aware of its propensity for multiple connotations.517 Indeed, the

editor was undoubtedly attracted to the malleable meaning of “chimera,” and its elastic

connotation likely influenced him more than did his interest in the Homeric myth.

Finally, the chimera motif was readily conflated with the image of the femme

fatale. Although ostensibly sexless, translators of Homer’s text often interpret the

515 Urszula Makowska, “Chimery polskich modernistów,” Ikonotheka no. 2 (1990): 53.

516 “1. urojone straszydło, potwór, przywidzenie, widmo (…); 2. urojenie, mrzonka, fantazja, widzimisię (...); 3. dziwactwo, kaprys, grymas (...); 4. dziwak (...).” Quoted in ibid., 54.

517 Ibid., 59.

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creature as female.518 Among the artists who repeatedly represented the chimera myth

was Moreau, who Przesmycki called “a master, barely known [in Poland], who is among

the greatest artists of the nineteenth century in the realm of the plastic arts.”519 In the first

issue of the journal, the editor included as an insert a reproduction of a heliogravure by R.

Paulussen of Moreau’s painting The Chimera (1867), a recreation of the literary myth

(Figure 60). An examination of the image raises the question: which of the figures is

truly the monstrous chimera? The print’s “monster,” a flying centaur, appears innocuous

rather than monstrous, and frightened rather than fearful. His eyes open wide in dismay

as he attempts to escape the ravenous clutches of a young, nude woman – the actual

“chimera” and predator – who covers his face with kisses. Moreau reinvented the

chimera into a portrayal of the femme fatale, suggesting woman’s insatiable lust

threatening to consume man. Though the centaur’s physical appearance comprises both human and animal attributes, Moreau’s image suggests it is the woman who is “bestial.”

For Moreau, woman’s beauty frequently masks a sinister character, and Przesmycki must

have felt drawn to the artist’s images of woman as artifice, a quality the editor perceived

in almost every facet of society.

Okuń’s cover illustration for the March 1901 issue presents another variation of the chimera/femme fatale (Figure 44).520 The creature hovers over a globular form,

518 See, for example, George Chapman’s 1611 translated: “in the midst a goat’s shagg’d form, she bore” (84); and William Munford’s 1846 translation states, “a shaggy goat/ Her middle part appear’d” (196). See The Works of George Chapman: Homer’s Iliad and Odyssey, ed. Richard Herne Shepherd (London: Chatto & Windus, 1903) and Homer, Iliad, vol. 1, trans. William Munford (Boston: Charles C. Little and James Brown, 1846).

519 “[Moreau] nieznanego u nas prawie mistrza, który w dziedzinie sztuk plastycznych jest snadź największym twórcą XIX wieku.” “Varia – Gustave Moreau’s ‘Chimera,’” C 1, 1 (1901): 183.

520 The same image appeared on the cover of the April/May 1901 issue.

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ostensibly a representation of the world, and stares toward the sun. With horns, goat’s

legs, a serpentine tail, and human female torso, Okuń conflated the seductive and animal

“nature” of woman. In her simultaneous beastlike and sensual appearance, she

emblematizes the femme fatale. Her possessive grasp over the globe signals woman’s dangerous and consuming power if left unchecked. Woman must be subdued to control her beastly nature. If her nature remains unrestrained, she will surely proceed to destroy man. At the same time, the chimera signifies the realm of the imagination, and the creature’s envelopment of the globe can be viewed optimistically as subjectivity and fancy conquering the material world.

The chimera myth’s ambiguity and multi-dimensionality contributed to the subjectivity espoused in the Warsaw journal. As Makowska explains, “The chimera, which in pictorial form became an ancient beast, a medieval monster, an animal-human hybrid, or a woman, could express practically anything: the longing for eternity, the power of fantasy, the elusiveness of dreams – the entire sphere of what is ineffable.”521

Przesmycki’s fascination with mythology and deep appreciation for symbols played a significant role in his adoption of the motif. Furthermore, like the female motif, the image of the mythical creature was ubiquitous in Symbolist art and literature.

Przesmycki’s inclusion of Polish examples alongside foreign models of this theme cemented Chimera’s own modernism, attesting to Polish artists’ internationalism and their deserved place among the modern “masters.”

521 “Chimera, która w warstwie obrazowej stawała się potworem antycznym, monstrum średniowiecznym, hybryda ludzko-zwierzęcą czy kobietą, mogła praktycznie wyrażać wszystko: tęsknotę do nieskończoności, siłę fantazji, nieuchwytność marzeń – całą sferę tego, co niewyrażalne.” Makowska, 66.

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The Spiritual and the Sacred

Since Przesmycki frequently utilized religious terminology when remarking on

the “sacredness” of art, spiritual themes unsurprisingly recurred in the pages of Chimera.

According to Cogeval:

The decadent conscience seemed to come to terms with what should have been its obverse: a turning back to God. . . . In reaction against the mechanistic notion of progress and a general loss of religious faith, many artists expressed a belief – one which went hand in hand with their interest in ancient myth – in an eternal underlying truth.522

The recounting of religious stories and myths did not serve an instructive purpose.

Instead, these religious representations were ultimate denials of positivism, which

acknowledges only empirical evidence. Moreover, these images suggested to the viewer the existence of a truth outside of material knowledge and, therefore, conformed to the themes of art that Przesmycki sought to foster.

Burne-Jones purportedly once told Oscar Wilde, “the more materialistic science becomes, the more angels shall I paint: their wings are my protest in favour of the immortality of the soul.”523 Przesmycki, too, must have been drawn to images of angels

for their symbolism of an otherworldly existence, a transcendence of the material world.

On the cover for the June 1901 issue (Figure 61), for example, he featured Polish artist

Maryan Wawrzeniecki’s drawing of an angel’s supine body hovering over a distant

landscape. The artist juxtaposed the metaphysical with the physical world. The angel

dominates the composition and dwarfs the landscape below, thus symbolizing the

dominance of the sacred over the secular.

522 Cogeval, 30-31.

523 See Oscar Wilde, “The English Renaissance of Art” in Essays and Lectures (London, Methuen & Co. Ltd., 1913), 132.

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In the final volume of Chimera, Przesmycki included as an insert Ignacy

Pieńkowski’s etching Annunciation, representing the Virgin’s encounter with the angel

Gabriel (Figure 62). Rather than adhering to the traditional iconography of Mary reading

in her room, Pieńkowski depicted her walking along a path where she meets Gabriel. In a

striking change to conventional images of the Virgin Mary, Pieńkowski portrayed her as

a sensual woman, her abdomen clearly visible underneath her filmy and translucent dress.

Such reinterpretation of Christian iconography, such as Munch’s version of a sexualized

Madonna, increased during the fin de siècle and signaled the departure from past models

in favor of artistic reinvention and personal responses to modernity.524

Another image of an angel, this one by Mehoffer, was reproduced on the cover of

the December 1902 issue (Figure 63). The drawing, a preparatory study for the artist’s

cartoon for the Wawel treasury’s polychrome decorations, represents Michael, the

archangel of war, complete with fiery sword and bullhorn.525 Mehoffer’s Michael lacks

the force of traditional iconography, which often portrayed the angel engaged in battle

with demons and rebel angels. Instead, the artist depicted Michael pausing from

exhaustion to wipe his brow. His sword, the archangel’s primary iconographic attribute,

hovers near the ground rather than aimed at a demon or dragon. In his tentativeness,

524 In Munch’s case, for example, Darwinian evolutionary theory played an influential role. According to art historian Reinhold Heller, in Munch’s lithograph Madonna, its frame featuring a specter-like fetus and floating sperm, “the artist changes the Christian subject into a secular symbol of mere physical regeneration.” Heller, Expressionism: Art and Idea (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1987), 27.

525 According to art historian Joanna Wapiennik-Kossowic, this is the last known “crypto-portrait” of his sister-in-law Wanda (who appeared previously in the painting, The Muse). See “Polichromia skarbca katedry na Wawelu, 1900-1902,” in Mehoffer: Opus Magnum, 166. In addition to the image of Michael, Mehoffer completed a companion cartoon – not reproduced in Chimera – of Gabriel, the archangel of peace.

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Mehoffer’s angel is a metaphor for the troublesome crisis of faith faced by Symbolist

writers and artists, who felt society was slowly deteriorating into a spiritual black hole.

Certainly, such a crisis may have precipitated the revival of medieval subject

matter and fascination with Renaissance art, both dominated by religious iconography. In

Chimera, Przesmycki reproduced numerous images, both religious and allegorical, by the

“Old Masters.” For example, he included as inserts to issue 10/12 two reproductions of

Albrecht Dürer’s woodcuts from The Apocalypse of St. John (1497-8), including The

Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse and The Angel with the Key to the Bottomless Pit. The

editor’s fascination with Renaissance art revealed his glorification of the past and the

values lost to it.

Furthermore, the past masters, for Przesmycki, were highly attuned to both

imagination and spiritual truths. However, the eventual democratization of society

resulted in a plethora of artists who directed their works to a mindless crowd.

Przesmycki felt that contemporary society posed a commanding threat to art’s sacred

values, understood by artists of the Renaissance and only revived by the “true” artist.526

For Przesmycki, the “true” artist was the priest/seer who ensured that his sacred art reflected these sacrosanct values. The religious imagery that populated Chimera, therefore, functioned as reflections of these supra-material, supra-national, and intimately

526 For example, Przesmycki cited Michelangelo as an artist who understood the goals of true art. According to the editor, “The goal of art is what Michelangelo thought when he said: ‘When I read Homer, it seems to me that I grow by twenty feet.’ This growth, this selfless inner deepening and broadening, alien to all fleeting and worldly concerns and circumstances, is the best gauge for the truth [or essentialness] of both the aesthetic impression and the work of art itself. When this is missing, there is no room for art.” [“Sztuka ma na celu to, o czem myślał Michał Anioł, mówiąc: ‘Gdy czytam Homera, zdaje mi się, że na dwadzieścia stóp urastam w górę.’ To właśnie, to urastnie, to bezinteresowne, obce wszystkim przemijającym, doczesnym względom i okolicznościom, pogłębianie się i rozszerzanie wnętrzne jest najlepszym probierzem istotności zarówno wrażenia estetycznego, jak i samego dzieła sztuki. Gdzie tego brak, tam o sztuce żadnej nie może być mowy.”] Tredecim, “Glossy: Nadsceny,” 303.

228 personal values and represented important statements about artistic identity and the role of art.

Textual Illustrations

Juxtaposition of Text and Illustration

Przesmycki, like Life’s various artistic directors, incorporated initials and vignettes that were purely decorative and served no exegetic function. However, whereas the vignettes in Life were almost exclusively ornamental, Przesmycki also chose vignettes precisely because they evoked the mood from an accompanying text, visually expressing the tenor and emotion therein. These images, though, were not literal visual translations of the text. Literalness was anathema to Przesmycki’s goals for art, whose “real essence” should be “the impression, feeling, and emotion.”527 This section examines several examples of poetry and prose that exemplified Przesmycki’s desire for a symbiotic relationship between image and text and that contributed to Chimera’s microcosmic

Gesamtkunstwerk.528

In issue 16, Przesmycki included an insert of Burne-Jones’s King Cophetua and the Beggar Maid (Figure 64) and published Zeyer’s prose-poem about the same subject.

According to the editor, the poem and the picture

527 “wrażeniem, uczuciem, wzruszeniem,” Z.P. “Kilka słów o krytyce,” C 1, 1 (1901): 158.

528 A growing body of literature about the interplay of “word and image” exists. However, my intent in this section is not to interrogate the dialectical relationship between word and image but to examine how the relationship between specific examples of texts and images in Chimera signaled Przesmycki’s program and goals for a non-literal art. For discussion about the word and image relationship, see W.J.T. Mitchell, Iconology: Image, Text, Iconology (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1986) and idem, Picture Theory: Essays on Verbal and Visual Representation (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1994). For an examination of the interplay of image and text in literary illustrations, see Philip Stewart, Engraven desire: Eros, Image and Text in the French Eighteenth Century (Durham: Duke University Press, 1992).

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constitute two such perfectly harmonious and mutually complementing accords that we could not resist the temptation to associate them with one another, to fuse them into one melody, to give the reader a better opportunity to lull themselves with this blue fable about the king Cophetua, with this undreamt dream of longing.529

Zeyer’s prose poem begins by recounting a dream inspired by the narrator’s memory of

Burne-Jones’s painting of Cophetua: “I bring you, my friend, this dream from Ravenna,

as a souvenir from my travels.”530 Przesmycki was undoubtedly drawn to the poem’s

evocation of dream, since dreams arouse imagination and fantasy in the sleeper’s mind.

Therefore, he incorporated illustrations – Okuń’s vignettes of somber landscapes and entranced figures – that underscored the text’s dream-like atmosphere.531 For example,

the opening initial “P” represents a slumped woman against a starlit sky (Figure 65). In

another vignette, which Jeannine Łukacz-Wild calls “eine Allegorie der Erinnerung,” a

female violinist, her hair merging with the background landscape, lulls the viewer into reverie (Figure 66).532 Meanwhile, the musical imagery heightens the quality of

Gesamtkunstwerk, by uniting the aural with the visual.

While Okuń’s illustrations for Zeyer’s poem evoke its overall atmosphere, his vignettes for the Jan Kasprowicz’s poem “Judas” emphasize the internal strife and conflicted feelings of the rhyme’s protagonist. Kasprowicz rendered his central character

529 “Poemat Zeyera (‘Król Kofetua’) i obraz Burne-Jones’a (‘Król Kofetua i dziewczę żebracze’) stanowią dwa tak wybornie harmonizujące i tak się wzajemnie dopełniające akordy, że nie mogliśmy się oprzeć pokusie, aby ich nie skojarzyć, w jedną melodyę nie powiązać i nie dać czytelnikowi tem doskonalszej możności ukołysania się tą błękitną baśnią o Królu Kofetui, tym nigdy niewyśnionym snem tęsknoty.” “Varia”, C 6, 16 (1902): 151. Emphasis added.

530 “Przynoszę ci, przyjacielu, ten sen z Rawenny, jako pamiątkę z podróży.” Zeyer, “Król Kofetua” in C 6, 16 (1902): 3.

531 Not all Okuń’s vignettes illustrated the atmosphere of the poem. Almost all the initials were solely ornamental in function. However, a clear distinction between the ornamental vignettes and the “evocative” vignettes is evident, with little confusion about their respective roles.

532 Łukacz-Wild, 165. Łukacz-Wild derived the meaning of from letters from Okuń to Przesmycki.

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as both a guilt-ridden penitent and a traitorous villain, and Okuń denoted this struggle in

the accompanying images. The artist’s ability to express Judas’s internal battle

corresponds to Przesmycki’s goal for art that transcended appearances in order to reach

truth, grasping the core of human experience.

Kasprowicz’s verse opens with the following:

Why do you pursue me? Where is Your holy, exalted love? Not one moment of rest!... I see You in the sun! I see you in the clouds – in everything that I touch – in everything, on which my eyes rest, [whenever] walking along a terrible path, I gather the superhuman courage to raise up my head Ach! and to open my weary eyelids, on which the weight 533 of shame lies heavy.

Okuń’s first image of Judas clearly evokes the overpowering and exhausting shame that

Christ’s former apostle expresses in these lines (Figure 67). According to Biernacka, who interrogates the visual program of this poem in her monograph on Okuń, “Judas’s head hangs low, his face is fixed and [full of] concentration, his eyes closed to avoid seeing the Betrayed, who tormented his conscience and imagination.”534 Judas’s tortured

and contrite emotions are palpable in Okuń’s drawing; even the clouds, dark and

oppressive, signal the burden upon his conscience.

533 “Czemu mnie ścigasz?/ Gdzież Twoja święta, uwielbiana miłość?/ Ni jednej chwilki wytchnienia!... Widzę Cię w słońcu!/W chmurach Cię widzę —/ we wszystkim, czego się dotknę —/ we wszystkim,/ na czym źrenice me spoczną,/ jeśli się kiedy, idąc straszną drogą,/ na tę nadludzką zdobędę odwagę,/ by podnieść głowę do góry/ ach! i zmęczonej uchylić powieki,/ na której cięży/ ten ciężar wstydu.” Kasprowicz, “Judasz” in C 4, 10/12 (1901): 144.

534 “Judasz ma głowę nisko pochyloną, twarz skupioną i stężałą, oczy zamknięte, aby nie widzieć dręczącej sumienie i wyobraźnię osoby Zdradzonego.” Biernacka, 102.

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While Kasprowicz underlined Judas’s contriteness, he also demonstrated his

duplicitous nature. In his unceasing penitent wandering, Judas tries to gain entry into a

house by bribing the owner with the money received for betraying Christ:

Friend! Friend! Help me to take off these thorns! [There is] some unearthly foul weather upon the world— invite [me] into your house— do not hide your possessions under [lock and] key! I am rich— thirty silver coins— I have— you see – in my purse!535

Instead of presenting a literal illustration of this text, Okuń indicated the traitorous nature of Judas using symbolism (Figure 68). Rather than depicting Judas with coins in hand,

Okuń encircled him with a serpent – an attribute absent in Kasprowicz’s poem. The juxtaposition of Judas and serpent, a symbol of the devil derived from the Old Testament story of Adam and Eve, readily conveys his duplicity.

In the poem’s final vignette, Okuń evoked Judas’s role as both traitor and penitent

(Figure 69). An ominous head covered in a writhing crown of thorns rises against a

foreboding landscape. As Biernacka indicates, this is “a face reminiscent of Satan or the

condemned apostle [Judas] rather than Christ.”536 Okuń conflated the former apostle’s

remorseful suffering, signified by the crown of thorns, with his iniquitous character,

indicated by the exaggerated and menacing features of his face. The crown of thorns, in

fact, emulates tentacles posed to ensnare a victim. Okuń’s Judas is a man who deserves

the suffering described in Kasprowicz’s rhyme.

535 “Przyjacielu! przyjacielu!/ Pomóż zdejmować mi ciernie!/ Jakaś nieziemska szaruga/ na świecie—/ weź przyjaciela w dom —/ dobytku swego nie chowaj/ pod klucz!/ Bogaty jestem — trzydzieści/ mam – widzisz — w kiesie srebrników!” Kasprowicz, “Judasz,” 162.

536 Biernacka, 100.

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In another example of the image/text relationship, Mehoffer provided vignettes for Przybyszewski’s novel Sons of the Earth (Synowie ziemi), serialized in Chimera in

1901. Among the various illustrations, he supplied a header vignette evoking the mood of the following lines (Figure 70):

Glińska [Hanka] stood immobile, looking into some borderless distance. She was pale like a corpse; she had eyes as though petrified within some dark pain.

Czerkaski did not say a word; with some sick, half-mad desire, he nestled close to her knees.537

Again, the illustration is not a literal one. A cloaked man hunches over the slumped and

seated (rather than standing) body of a woman, who appears unconscious (rather than

looking straight ahead). A winged figure flies overhead, a detail also diverging from the

actual text. Mehoffer faithfully transcribed only the detail of Czerkaski huddling at

Hanka’s knees (“he nestled close to her knees”). While his drawing of Czerkaski

connotes the protagonist’s feeling of love-sick desperation, Hanka’s listless and lifeless body conveys her torpor. The winged figure might be cupid, indicating the love of

Czerkaski for Hanka.

As was the case with Okuń, Mehoffer was not always privy to the texts he was asked to illustrate and did not read Przybyszewski’s novel in advance; thus, he relied on

descriptions and portions of the text provided by Przesmycki.538 Mehoffer’s inability to

read Przybyszewski’s prose may explain some of the inconsistencies between text and

image. However, the lack of literal correlation also indicates what Przesmycki sought in

537 “Glińska stała nieruchoma, patrzała w jakąś bezbrzeżną dal. Była trupio-blada, a oczy miała jakby skamieniałe w jakimś ciemnym bólu./Czerkaski nie mówił słowa, tulił się tylko z jakiemś chorem, wpół błędnem pragnieniem do jej kolan.” Przybyszewski, Synowie ziemi in C 2, 4-5 (1901): 268.

538 Kulpińska, 84.

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the text/image relationship: evocation not literalness, correspondance (in the

Baudelairean and Symbolist sense) not correspondence (in the sense of equivalence).

In a letter to Przesmycki, Okuń offered several suggestions for the placement of

his vignettes within Kasprowicz’s poem “My Evening Song,” such as incorporating the

image of oil lamps “as intervals [to the text] to symbolize sadness. . . if you, Dear Sir,

consider it appropriate.” He ended his suggestions with the following remark: “Forgive

me, dear sir, for taking liberty in providing you with these comments but I do so only to

elucidate my indecision, and I submit my vignettes for your critique.”539 This statement

underscores the role the editor – not the artist – played in dictating the juxtaposition of

image within text. For Przesmycki, the illustrations included in Chimera had to articulate

the journal’s overall visual program, rooted in imagination, feelings and internal states,

and fantasy.

The above examples demonstrate Przesmycki’s interest in harmonizing the mood

of a text with that of an image. However, in several essays about and prose from Eastern

(then considered “exotic”) cultures, Przesmycki wanted to transport the viewer into the

respective tradition. He accomplished this by, once again, employing the microcosmic

Gesamtkunstwerk, carefully synthesizing the images with the texts. This is evident, for

example, in the editor’s own essay on Japanese woodcuts in the March 1901 issue.540

Przesmycki, along with his friend Feliks Jasieński, was among the few Polish writers to actively promote Japanese art, and he was especially drawn to woodblock prints. In the essay, he outlined the history of the Japanese woodcut technique and its

539 Letter from Okuń to Przesmycki, Rome, 11 December 1900, quoted in Biernacka, 97.

540 See Przesmycki, “Dzeworyt japoński,” C 1, 3 (1901): 490-531.

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practitioners. He also examined the European discovery of Japanese art, discussing its

impact upon European artists and writers, including Monet, Whistler, Degas, the

Goncourt brothers, and Zola. Throughout the text, Przesmycki included reproductions (in

the form of vignettes) of prints by Yosai, Hokusai, Korin, and Hiroshige (Figure 71). In

his desire to evoke a Japanese-inspired style to complement the text, every vignette

conformed to this aesthetic. Even the sole illustration by a Polish artist, Dębicki’s initial

“B”, depicts the figure of a samurai executed in the japonisme style, thus emulating and paying tribute to Japanese woodblock prints (Figure 72).541

In another example of connecting Eastern images to text, Okuń contributed an

Indian-inspired frontispiece to Wacław Berent’s introduction and translation of three

Hindu Upanishads, published in the final volume of Chimera.542 The vignette is a richly ornamental and symmetrical composition of floral and arabesque designs and fantastic beasts and birds (Figure 73). In a font mimicking Sanskrit characters, Okuń included the names of the Upanishads: “Kena, Isa and Fragment of the Great Aranya Upanishads.”

According to the issue’s “Varia” section, both the frontispiece and ornamental vignettes

throughout were directly inspired by Indian motifs: “the main gate [of the frontispiece] is

a line [drawing] reconstruction of a silver altar; the emblems for headers, footers and

ornament[al] [vignettes] were derived from [Indian] shawls, porcelain, lacework, the

silver studding of armors and color embossing.”543

541 In addition to the illustrations in the essay, the issue of Chimera included a full-page reproduction of Yosai’s print of a man leaning against a wooden railing and two inserts of Konrad Krzyżanowski’s lithographs of the woodcuts Woman with a Mirror by Utamaro and A Game of Stakes by Kuniyoshi.

542 Przesmycki admired the “mysticism” of the Hindu religion.

543 “Wrota naczelne są linijnym odtworzeniem srebrnego ołtarza; wzorów na nagłówki, zakończenia i przerywniki dostarczyły szale, porcelany, koronki, srebrne nabijania na zbrojach i wytłaczania barwne.” “Varia,” C 10, 30 (1907): 593.

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As the reader/viewer pages through Chimera, the relationship between text and image proves an inextricably reciprocal one. Namely, the reader is always a viewer and vice versa. Whether evoking mood, feeling, or atmosphere, the images amplify the content of the text, and the text brings life to the image. Even in the case of the purely decorative vignettes, the reader/viewer is drawn to the aesthetic properties of the journal itself. That is, the ornamental illustrations accentuate the quality of the paper, typography, and organization of every element on the sheet. While paging through these texts, the mere act of looking/reading is transformed into an aesthetic, cognitive, and transportive experience.

Extracting Images from Texts

Przesmycki included a number of vignettes and illustrations that he invested with new meaning by taking them out of their original context (specifically, extracting them from the text they originally illustrated/complemented). He chose these images carefully to fit within Chimera’s visual program and favored those invoking myths and legends, which could transport the viewer into an idealized and fantastic realm completely removed from contemporary culture. Though he provided the viewer with the works’ titles, the missing original accompanying text forced the viewer to rely solely upon his or her imagination to invest the works with significance. This was an ideal prospect for

Przesmycki, who wanted to create a journal in which the reader/viewer became lost in imagination.

Unsurprisingly, myths comprised a large part of this program. According to

Wagner: “In myths, human relationships are almost completely divested of their

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conventional appearance, understandable to abstract reasoning alone, and reveal what is

basically human, eternally understandable in life.”544 Przesmycki’s penchant for legends

reflected this belief in the spiritually and psychically attuned mind’s ability to grasp

higher truths, since one could no longer rely on mere appearance, that is, on material

“truths.”

In issue 9, Przesmycki included as an insert (printed reversed) Beardsley’s

lithograph The Return of Tannhäuser to Venusberg, which originally illustrated the

artist’s unfinished novel The Return of Venus and Tannhäuser (Figure 74). Tannhäuser,

the thirteenth-century German lyric poet, was immortalized in ballads and verses, and,

most famously, in a Wagnerian opera in which the protagonist falls under the spell of

Venus. A number of Symbolist artists, Beardsley included, were attracted to Wagner’s

theatrical productions and his reinterpretation of myths.545 Beardsley’s illustration, taken

out of its context, represents a number of emotions – loss, longing, fear – as a disheveled

Tannhäuser reaches toward a vision beyond the viewer. As an image that reveals basic

human sentiments, it is immediately comprehensible, irrespective of the viewer’s level of knowledge about the original story.

Myths and legends, because they “lent themselves to the recasting of events from the artist’s own experience or fantasy,” were also a major narrative component of the Pre-

544 Quoted in Cogeval, 27.

545 For Wagner’s influence upon the Symbolists see the chapter “Richard Wagner and the French Symbolists” in Frantisek Deak, Symbolist Theater: The Formation of an Avant-garde (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1993) and Günter Metken, “Music for the Eye: Wagner and Symbolist Painting” in Lost Paradise.

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Raphaelites.546 Unsurprisingly, several of their works appeared in Chimera. Like

Beardsley’s Tannhäuser, Burne-Jones’s King Cophetua and the Beggar Maid evokes

similar feelings of unrequited desire (Figure 64).547 The fable, memorialized in a poem

by Alfred Lord Tennyson, centers on the ancient English king Cophetua, who falls in

love with a young, beautiful beggar maid upon first sight.548 Shortly after Burne-Jones’s

death in 1898, the painter Fernand Khnopff wrote rapturously about the artist’s original

painting, completed in 1884 and exhibited at the Exposition Universelle Paris in 1889,

where it was enthusiastically received:

The spectator was enwrapped by this living atmosphere of dream-love and of spiritualized fire, carried away to a happy intoxication of the soul, a dizziness that clutched the spirit and bore it up high, far, far away, too far to be any longer conscious of the brutal presence of the crowd, the mob of sightseers amid whom the body fought its way out again through the doors. This artist’s dream, deliciously bewildering, had become the real; and at this moment it was the elbowing and struggling reality that seemed a dream, or rather a nightmare.549

Indeed, the viewer does not have to read the original tale nor Tennyson’s poem to grasp

the emotions of the painting’s protagonist. This wholly, independently evocative

character of Burne-Jones’s image, in which the entranced protagonist seems frozen in

time, exemplified for Przesmycki the images he sought to include in his journal.

Although Chimera’s images of legends and myths disregarded or suspended their

narrative role, they served as more than mere nostalgic visions. Instead, Przesmycki

546 Christopher Newall, “Themes of Love and Death in Aesthetic Painting of the 1860s” in The Age of Rossetti, Burne-Jones and Watts: Symbolism in Britain 1860-1910, ed. Andrew Wilton and Robert Upstone (New York: Flammarion, 1997), 43.

547 The image was included as an insert to Chimera.

548 See “The Beggar Maid” in The Works of Alfred Tennyson, ed. Hallam Lord Tennyson and annotated by Alfred Lord Tennyson (New York: The McMillan Company, 1908), 430.

549 Fernand Khnopff, “A Tribute from Belgium,” The Magazine of Art 21 (1898): 520-6, reproduced in Symbolist Art Theories: A Critical Anthology, ed. Henri Dorra (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1994), 33.

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thoughtfully chose these images for their capacity to transport the viewer into imaginary

worlds and to lift the spectator beyond and above the (mindless) crowd and hubbub of

daily life. “Extracted” from their original texts, the illustrations evoked new ideas and emotions. Presumably, any viewer, no matter their background or nationality, could inscribe them with personal meaning. Przesmycki likely felt that Polish artists had to accomplish the same feat, creating images equally evocative. By including numerous exemplary reproductions, he demonstrated that such artistic content was entirely possible.

For example, if one “extracted” Okuń’s images from Kasprowicz’s text about Judas, the former would be no less powerful. Like the above works of Beardsley or Burne-Jones,

Okuń’s images (or those of any Polish artist included in Chimera) held the intrinsic capability of assuming new, personal meaning outside their textually illustrative role, due to their lack of didacticism and lack of dependence upon a pre-existing narrative.

From Craft to Art

In various issues of Chimera, one encounters – in addition to reproductions of paintings, drawings, and sculptures – images derived from the applied arts: such as church and polychrome decorations, ex-libris plates, and stained glass designs. As we have seen in chapter four, Przesmycki stressed the importance of aestheticizing the applied arts and utilitarian objects to create a more beautiful society. However, he also maintained a clear hierarchical distinction between art and craft. Therefore, it may appear contradictory that he derived images from the decorative arts to serve as vignettes and cover images for his journal, ostensibly dedicated solely to the “highest” forms of art.

However, Przesmycki circumvented the seeming contradiction by decontextualizing the

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images; that is, he reproduced them as independent works of art. By segregating the

work from its “function” – much in the way that Okuń’s Southeast Asian motifs were

taken out of their original context – the viewer encounters only the image on the page and

is forced to consider it for its own merits.

Several Young Poland artists, most notably Mehoffer and Wyspiański, worked in

various mediums and approached their work in the applied arts and crafts with the same

passion and inspiration they brought to the “fine arts.”550 From 1891 to 1896, Mehoffer lived in Paris, where for several years he shared a studio space with Wyspiański. In

1895, while still in Paris, he entered and won a contest to decorate St. Nicholas Church in

Fribourg, Switzerland. His finished stained glass designs won him international fame and

induced the Fribourg stained glass firm Kirsch and Fleckner to commission Mehoffer to

create an advertisement for their company (Figure 75). The advertisement featured a

triptych emulating stained glass design and depicted three figures: a female saint, a

knight, and an Art Nouveau-inspired female figure attended by a peacock.

The figures did not represent specific people but instead served as metaphors for the gradual transition from the religious to the secular, from the past to modernity.

However, this transition is not absolute, and Mehoffer indicated that the past and its ideals continued to affect the present. For example, religious symbolism can be inferred from the popular Art Nouveau motif of the peacock, which complements the image of the

Art Nouveau woman. Though a real creature, the peacock mimics the appearance of the

mythological phoenix, a symbol of regeneration, and was thereby adopted by the early

Christians as a symbol for eternal life and the Resurrection. This propensity for images

550 I use the term “fine arts” in the manner that Przesmycki might have used it. That is, the editor distinguished between the “fine arts” (of painting, sculpture, drawing, and printmaking) and the applied arts.

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to elicit malleable interpretations defined Chimera, which, needless to say, prized

subjectivity in art.

Przesmycki incorporated this Art Nouveau inspired image as one of Chimera’s

covers (Figure 76). As a cover image, the original was separated from its two

companions on the Kirsch and Fleckner leaflet, and its context changed from

advertisement to independent work of art. However, Przesmycki did not eliminate the

other two images of the saint and knight. Instead, the editor reproduced the illustrations,

each on its own page, in another issue, a caption identifying them simply as “two stained glass drawings.” Their incorporation within the journal as independent images invested them with the same significance as the conventional forms of “high” art – paintings, sculptures, and prints – likewise reproduced as independent images throughout Chimera.

Mehoffer also created various polychrome designs, including decorations for St.

Mary’s Cathedral and the Wawel Cathedral treasury, two sites integral to Krakow’s civic and religious identity. Drawings from the latter project were included as decorative vignettes within various texts, such as a translated fragment of Nietzsche’s Thus Spoke

Zarathustra (Figure 77). Mehoffer’s illustrations achieved an entirely new purpose when incorporated as vignettes to Nietzsche’s text. Though the table of contents identifies the images as “decorative polychrome motifs for the Wawel treasury,” no indication of this original intention appears within their new context. Instead, they serve as an ornamental header and footer to the text itself. The images themselves lack any literal correspondence with the essay, but the relationship is nevertheless revealing. The works previously held primarily nationalistic and religious connotations within their original location for a treasury in a sacred Polish Christian site. However, Przesmycki invested

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them with a new and additional meaning (and suppressed the original meaning) by

including the images within a philosophical treatise concentrating on a new morality

outside of Christian tradition. The editor, thus, demonstrated that the images could be

readily viewed and appreciated outside of their intended context.

This is apparent in another illustration by Mehoffer: the cover image for both the

August 1902 and October 1902 issues (Figure 78). Mehoffer originally created the

cover’s image for an ex-libris bookplate but eventually transformed it into a cartoon for a

stained glass design, executed in 1904.551 The drawing, Vita – somnium breve, represents the female personifications of sculpture, architecture, and painting, over whom the

winged figure of genius hovers. At the foot of the allegorical figures lies a female corpse

holding a skull, a memento mori. The 1902 drawing differs somewhat from the 1904

cartoon, in which the allegory of painting holds paintbrushes rather than a palette.

According to Anna Zeńczak, Mehoffer’s wife probably posed for the personifications of

sculpture and architecture.552

Przesmycki, who sought to revive the art of book ornamentation, also appreciated the art of the ex-libris bookplate, another traditionally “applied” art. However, he presented Mehoffer’s image not in its original context (as an ex-libris) but as an independent artwork. As the “face” of the journal, the image achieved greater magnitude than it would have as a decorative but, ultimately often ignored, bookplate. In fact, the image’s original context was only revealed to readers after Przesmycki wrote an essay

551 Mehoffer exhibited and won a medal for the final design at the 1904 St. Louis World’s Fair. Anna Zeńczak, “Witraż Vita Somnium Breve dla Krakowskiego zakładu witrażów, 1904” in Mehoffer: Opus Magnum, 213. Przesmycki also included the image as a separate, collectible illustration inside the August 1902 issue.

552 Ibid.

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(published in Chimera in 1905) about the art of the ex-libris bookplate. In the essay, he

contended that the drawing was the finest example of entries in a contest, moderated by

the Society of Polish Applied Arts, to create an ex-libris for the National Museum in

Krakow, and he decried its prize of second place.

According to Przesmycki, Vita – somnium breve should be included among the

finest example of the ex-libris due to “the depth and expressiveness of its conception; the immense and calm harmony of its composition; the subtle gradation of expression of form; the broad, noble decorativeness of the [subject’s] treatment; [and] finally, its masterly distinctness and strength of draftsmanship.”553 His description, in fact, did not

refer to the work as an applied art or as an object serving to identify a book’s owner.

Instead, he emphasized its significance as an independent work of art.

The essay offered examples of several other ex-libris plates, and he featured an

ex-libris etching by Siedlecki and lithographs by Antoni Stanisław Procajłowicz and

Tadeusz Rychter. The last two were reproduced in full-color, while Siedlecki’s print was

in black and white. Though included as examples underscored in the essay, the images

also appeared in Chimera as independent artworks. That is, each image received its own

page, and none was integrated within Przesmycki’s actual essay (thus eliminating the

possibility of a didactic function). By scattering the images throughout the issue, the

editor forced viewers to consider them exclusively as works of art.554

553 “głębokości i wyrazistości koncepcyi, ogromnej, spokojnej harmonii w układzie, subtelnie stopniowanej ekspresyi w postaciach, szerokiej, szlachetnej dekoracyjności w traktowaniu, mistrzowskiej wreszcie odrębności i mocy w rysunku.” Z. P., “Nowe Polskie ex-librisy artystyczne,” C 9, 25 (1905): 158-9.

554 The essay appears on pp. 155-163; the reproductions, however, appear on pp. 117 (Procajłowicz), 140 (Siedlecki), and 146 (Rychter).

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It was only in the text itself that Przesmycki stressed the necessity to maintain

beauty and significance within a utilitarian object. For example, writing about

Siedlecki’s plate (Figure 79) – which depicted a “somewhat modern” female figure in

front of the Memphis gate, guarded by Sphinx statues and inscribed with the Hebrew

letters “JHWH” (Jehovah) and a pentagram – the editor praised the “symbolist

composition” for its “allusion to the owner’s [Józef Drzewiecki] richest and most beloved

section of his book collection, [the section dedicated to] secret knowledge (alchemy,

magic cabbala, Indian philosophy, Gnosticism and mysticism).”555 Apparently,

Przesmycki treasured most the plate’s ability to evoke the general context of the library.

In fact, his description of Siedlecki’s ex-libris (as an “allusion” and “symbolist

composition”) corresponded to his view about the important evocative role of all

illustrations within Chimera. Meanwhile, the inclusion of the plate as an “independent”

image, as with all the above examples, typified how Przesmycki completely divested the

applied arts of their utilitarian function by decontextualizing and recontextualizing them

in the journal’s pages. Consequently, the editor readily and effectively incorporated these

images into the journal’s visual program, rooted entirely in an image’s ability to exhibit

beauty, evocation, and universal truths.

Chimera and the Role of Art

Chimera was the first Polish journal that successfully situated art and text on an

equal plane. By demanding quality, beauty, and depth of meaning from the artworks

555 “aluzyę do najbogatszego w księgozbiorze i najbardziej umiłowanego przez właściciela działu wiedzy tajemnej (alchemii, magii, kabały, filozofii indyjskiej, gnozy i mystyki).” Z. P., “Nowe Polskie ex-librisy artystyczne,” 162.

244 included, Przesmycki effectively created a journal that was in itself a work of art, a truly

“beautiful book.” Though he demanded that images were aesthetically pleasing, this was not enough. For the editor, an image’s ability to stir up emotion in a viewer or derive meaning and mood from a text separated “true” art from artifice; this separation was only accomplished through the complete rejection of tendentious art in favor of escape into the imagination and depths of the psyche.

The visual program of Chimera, therefore, epitomized the role of artist as priest- seer. The artist’s task became one of evocation rather than inculcation. To capture the unknowable, the metaphysical, and the sacred, he had to reach beyond the material world into its essence. Only an artist highly receptive to beauty, committed to subjectivity, spiritually and psychically attuned, and self-segregated from the “mindless” crowd could accomplish this feat. Chimera served as an organ for an entirely new kind of artistic expression: one in which narrative was subordinated to internal subject matter and style gave way to an “eternal” art. In other words, a supra-temporal, supra-material, and entirely supra-national art.

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Conclusion

Fin-de-siècle Poland was deeply engaged with the issues of nationalism as Poles continued their struggle to uphold their national identity among the foreign regimes that had parceled the country. Art, with its immediacy and expressive potential, functioned as an important tool of nationalistic and political expression during this period. However,

whereas artists fueled by positivism aimed to preserve Polish identity through edification,

the artists of Young Poland increasingly rejected these aims. Instead, the movement’s

members strove to redefine national art, insisting that Polish art had to become modern to

thrive internationally.556

Life and Chimera emerged within this nationalist discourse, challenging the

notion of an instructive art. The journals’ editors, Chimera’s Przesmycki and Life’s

Przybyszewski, were key propagators of Young Poland and were among the most vocal

proponents of international modernism in Poland. The editors advocated the role of artist

as priest-seer, whose artistic creativity, revealed in their work as spiritual and

metaphysical (not moral) truths, was premised on the ability to transcend materiality.

Both Przesmycki and Przybyszewski argued that art must serve only itself because art is absolute, unconnected to civic or worldly concerns. Their periodicals reflected this idea by devoting space solely to artists and writers who exemplified these artistic virtues.

Furthermore, the editors interspersed Polish artists’ works with those of their foreign counterparts, suggesting that Polish art was on par with that of the greatest (according to the editors) modernist masters. By underscoring Polish works, the editors further

556 See Brzyski, “Modern Art and Nationalism” and Brzyski, “Between the Nation and the World.”

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emphasized that Poles were important and crucial participants in the international

artworld.

Both Przesmycki and Przybyszewski were particularly drawn to the aesthetic

theories and visual languages of Symbolism, undoubtedly and largely due to the movement’s elevation of idea over material reality. In Symbolist art, “th[e] art object was not a replication of that object in nature but rather a vehicle for recognition and contemplation of a higher reality.”557 Furthermore, “the two worlds of reality and dream,

which had been nicely separated in earlier Romantic and Victorian work . . . are complex

and often precariously merged in the Symbolist work.”558 Both editors’ visual programs,

which stressed psychic and metaphysical revelation, clearly emulated these Symbolist

tenets. However, “Symbolism” was guided by the values of “symbolism,” a more

generalized concept that applies to evocative subject matter derived from artistic

imagination and that suggests a shunning of the objective. While fin-de-siècle Symbolist

artists predominated in the journals’ pages, the editors hailed any artist (past or present)

who created authentic symbolist art.

In their advancement of symbolism, Life (in the Przybyszewski era) and Chimera

functioned as the first modernist journals in Poland, stimulating the rise of the Polish

little magazine as an integral platform for artistic expression completely removed from

material concerns. While numerous previous Polish periodicals included editorials and

essays about the arts and reproduced artists’ and writers’ works, none solely dedicated to

art and literature yet existed. Furthermore, Life’s and (especially) Chimera’s

557 Hirsch, 3.

558 Ibid., 12.

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attentiveness to every element of the appearance of the page contributed to the revival of

typography and book illustration in Poland. In her study of book illustration, Janina

Wiercińska credits both Chimera and Stanisław Wyspiański’s artistic direction of Life in

precipitating in Poland the reevaluation of books as aesthetic objects.559 Indeed, in the

first half of the twentieth century, periodicals dedicated solely to typographic and graphic arts – such as The Guide to Graphics (Poradnik Graficzny), Polish Graphics (Grafika

Polska), The Graphic Review (Przegląd Graficzny), Graphics (Grafika) and Graphic

News (Wiadamości Graficzne) – increased dramatically.560

Furthermore, the establishment of Chimera and Przybyszewski’s ambitious

changes to Life meant that Polish modernism finally had a mouthpiece akin to those of

such cities as Berlin, Paris, and Vienna. Very much like Mercure de France or Pan, Life

and Chimera offered a tangible space where artistic ideas might be forged and shaped, a

space for disseminating and framing modernism. The editors constructed modernism as a

discourse in which Polish artists had an important stake. They also underscored that

Polish participation within this discourse meant that nationalist visual rhetoric could no

longer drive artistic production. Przybyszewski and Przesmycki recognized that

modernism’s ascendancy relied upon the international transfer of ideas and urged artists

to adopt modernist strategies in order to achieve legitimacy within the European artworld.

Yet, the editors’ attempts to deflect their journals from the nationalist discourse

were, ultimately, acts of dissembling. Life and Chimera, were, after all, Polish journals –

559 Wiercińska, Sztuka i książka, 18-19.

560 All of these periodicals emerged between 1905 and 1921. In 1897, however, a journal dedicated to typography, The Printer and the Bookmaker (Drukarz i Księgarz) was established. Still, it is clear that the increased interest in typography in Poland developed only in the first decade of the twentieth century. See Sowiński.

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edited by Poles for Poles – that determinedly reinforced national identity through the

inclusion of predominantly Polish writers and artists and by employing the Polish

language. Therefore, Przybyszewski and Przesmycki were framing not only a modernist

but also a new nationalist discourse, which drew attention to Poles’ estimable

contributions to international modernism.

In order to fully appreciate Life’s and Chimera’s significance to Polish and

international modernism, more work on these journals is still needed. First, English

translations of their main polemical texts are virtually nonexistent.561 Yet, their inclusion

within English-language modernist anthologies would enrich the discourse by

highlighting the shared modernist values between Western European theorists and those

of Eastern Europe, long assumed to be geographically and critically peripheral, largely

due to a lack of knowledge about them. Furthermore, the texts’ greater exposure among

scholars outside of Poland would begin to modify the notion that Polish art (and Eastern

European art in general) was provincial. The editors of Chimera and Life did much to show this was not the case, but the longstanding linguistic inaccessibility of their essays’ contents does little to prove otherwise.

Furthermore, though this dissertation presents a much needed analysis of Polish literary and artistic journals of the fin de siècle, I focus only on two examples and do not

delve into the development of similar, subsequent periodicals in Poland. However, as the

first journals dedicated solely to art and literature, Life and Chimera paved the way for

561 One exception includes Sokoloski’s translation of Przybyszewski’s “Confiteor,” though its inclusion in a Polish scholarly journal still limits it to a niche audience, see Sokoloski, “Stanisław Przybyszewski’s ‘Confiteor.’” Also, Przybyszewski’s 1894 essay, “Psychic Naturalism” was included in the anthology Art in Theory 1815-1900. This essay was revised and re-titled (“On the Paths of the Soul”) for Life. See Przybyszewski, “Psychic Naturalism (The Work of Edvard Munch)” in Art in Theory 1815-1900.

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such Polish artistic-literary little magazines as Sfinks (1908-1917), Lamus (1909-13),

Museion (1911-13), The Literary and Artistic Echo (Echo Literacko-Artystyczne) (1912-

1915), Pro Arte et Studio (1916-1918), Skamander (1920-1939), and Art (Sztuka).562

This dissertation serves as a stepping stone for further scholarship, in both Polish and

English, about the development of these and other Polish little magazines.

Finally, these discussions should be included within the context of European little magazines, as Life and Chimera reflected the little magazine’s important role to the rise of modernism. Indeed, by the fin de siècle, little magazines cultivated an international literary, artistic, and critical network of exchange. To understand better international modernism, little magazines must be analyzed as methodically as the other structures and systems (such as the art market and exhibitions) that determined its ascendancy. As this dissertation shows, no narrative about modernism is complete unless it regards the crucial role such periodicals played in legitimizing it. Moreover, no broad comprehension of modernism can exist unless art historians consider Polish contributions to its discourse.

562 The title of the latter was shared by two unaffiliated Polish journals in Lwów (1911-1912) and Paris (1904-1905). See Kulpińska and Part VII of Polskie Życie Artystyczne w Latach 1890-1914 for further information about all the above journals.

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Appendix A

Tables of Contents for Life (1897-1900)

This appendix provides the table of contents for every issue of Life.

The format is as follows: Page number: author or artist, translated title (title in Polish), genre or medium, translator [if applicable/listed]. Textual illustrations and/or vignettes are indented.

For an alphabetical index of Chimera, see Grzegorz Paweł Bąbiak, ed., Bibliografia zawartości “Życia” warszawskiego i krakowskiego,“Strumienia” oraz “Chimery”. Warszawa: Wydział Polonistyki Uniwersytetu Warszawskiego, 2000.

Where an author assumed a pseudonym, I indicate the author’s identity (following Bąbiak’s identifications) in brackets. This appendix is intended to supplement Bąbiak’s index.

1897

Vol. 1, no. 1 (24 September 1897) 1: Henryk Rauchinger, title vignette 1: Marya Konopnicka, from the cycle “Life” (Z cyklu “Życie”), poetry 1: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 1-2: Obojętny [editors?], “The Weekly Column: About Life” (“Feljeton tygodniowy: Z Życia”), essay 2-3: Antoni Potocki, “Generational Jubilee” (“Jubeliusz pokolenia”), essay 3-4: Cypryan Godębski, “Art and Criticism” (“Sztuka i krytyka”), essay 3-4: Kazimierz Tetmajer, “Pour passer le temps oktawą [octave],” poetry 4-5: Ludwik Szczepański, “Theater – History on the Stage” (“Teatr – Historya na scenie”), essay 5-6: A[ntoni] Chołoniewski, “Lwów Theater” (“Teatr Lwowski”), essay 5-10: Gabriel d’Annunzio, “On Five Smart Maidens, and On Five Stupid [Maidens]” (“O pięciu pannach mądrych, a pięciu głupich”), prose, Stanisław Wyrzykowski (trans.) 6: Miriam [Zenon Przesmycki], “Ballad about Stars” (“Ballada o gwiazdach”), poetry 6: Stanisław Wyspiański, Fountain (Fontanna) [reproduction of drawing] 7: Bronisław Trzaskowski, “The Female Gymnasium” (“Gimnazyum żeńskie”), essay 7: Stanisław Wyspiański, Flame (Płomień), [reproduction of drawing] 8-9: Letters – from A.L. in Warsaw; from L.K. in Vienna 8: Stanisław Wyspiański, reproduction of a drawing 9: “Review of reviews” (“Przegląd przeglądów”) – Przegląd polski, Głos, Kuryer Lwowski, Wiener Rundschau, La revue des revues 9-10: “Books” (“Książki”) – book reviews of works by Zygmunt Niedźwicki, A. Stopka, Edgar Allan Poe, Winceny hr. Łos

251 10-11: “Chronicle” (“Kronika”) – brief notes and announcements about the Society of the National House, new book about Polish history, announcement about the drama Marcin Łuba, compilation of Polish writers by Laura Brix, Marceli Salzer, theater in Vienna and Warsaw; letters from provinces: Rzeszów, Tarnów, Jasło, Biała-Bielsk, Zakopane 12: “Echoes” (“Echa”) – brief notes and letters 12: information about Wyspiański’s drawings “Fountain” and “Flame” 12: announcement of a contest for a title vignette 12: Correspondence from the editors

Vol. 1, no. 2 (2 October 1897) 1: Stanisław Wyspiański, title vignette 1: Ludwik Szczepański, “To the Poet” (“Poecie”), poetry 1-2: Stanisław Wyrzykowsi, “Kornel Ujejski,” essay [eulogy] 1: Photograph of Kornel Ujejski 2, 4: Antoni Potocki, “Jubilee Profiles: Henryk Sienkiewicz” (“Sylwetki jubileuszowe”), essay 3-4: Kazimierz Tetmajer, “Pour passer le temps oktawą,” poetry 3: Cyprian Godębski, monument to Adam Mickiewicz [photograph] 4-5: Cyprian Godębski, “Art and Criticism” (“Sztuka i krytyka”), essay 5: Stanisław Wyspiański, “Monuments for Mickiewicz” (“Pomniki Mickiewicza”), essay 5: detail of Cyprian Godębski’s monument to Mickiewicz [photograph] 5-10: Louis Couperus, “The Duchess of Yemena” (“Markiza d’Yéména”), prose, Adolf Now[aczyński] (trans.) 6-7: Kazimierz Bartoszewicz, “On the Monument That Is but That Is No More” (“O pomniku który jest, a którego niema”), essay 7: A M-ski [Zofia Trzeszczkowska], “Don’t Pray!” (“Nie módlcie się!”), poetry 7: Stanisław Wyspiański, The Rock of Niobids (Skała niobidów) [reproduction of drawing] 8: Ludwik Szczepański, “Theater – Burlesque” (“Teatr – Krotochwila”), review 8: Antoni Chołoniewski, “Lwów Theater” (“Teatr lwowski”), review 8-9: Kazimierz Radwan, “From Berlin” (“Z Berlina”), essay (correspondence) 9: A[dolf] Nowaczyński, “Physiology of the Races” (“Fizyologia wyścigów”), essay 9: “Review of reviews” (“Przegląd przeglądów”) – Tygodniu in Kuryer Lwowski, Revue des deux mondes, Neue deutsche Rundschau 9-10: “Books” (“Książki”) – book reviews of works by Romualda Baudouin de Courtenay, Marya Jonas-Szateńska 10-11: “Chronicle” (“Kronika”) – brief notes and announcements about Krakow’s literary and artistic scene, Antoni Potocki, Marya Szeliga-Loevy, exhibition of the Society of Fine Arts, Gabryela Zapolska, exhibition in Lwów, Viennese secession; letter from Ka. za.; letters from provinces: Stanisławów 12: “Echoes” (“Echa”) – brief notes and letters 12: information about Godębski’s Mickiewicz monument 12: announcement of contest for a title vignette 12: Correspondence from the editors

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Vol. 1, no. 3 (9 October 1897) 1: Ephraim Moses Lilien, title vignette 1: Obojętny [editors?], “The Weekly Column: About Life” (“Feljeton tygodniowy: Z Życia”), essay 2: Antoni Lange, “To Our Generation” (“Swemu pokoleniu”), poetry 2-3: Antoni Potocki, “Jubilee Profiles: Henryk Sienkiewicz” (“Sylwetki jubileuszowe”), essay 3-4: Gabryela Zapolska, “Antek [and] Poverty” (“Antek Nędza”), play 3-4: Kazimierz Tetmajer, “Pour passer le temps oktawą [octave],” poetry 4: Stanisław Wyrzykowski, “Psyche,” poetry 4: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignettes 4: Stanisław Pieńkowski, “Fountain” (“Fontanna”) poetry 4-5: Ludwik Szczepański, “Theater – School of Scandal” (“Teatr – Szkoła obmowy”), essay 5-7: Marya Szeliga [Maria Czarnowska-Loevy], “The Feminist Movement” (“Prąd feministyczny”), essay 5-10: Louis Couperus, “The Duchess of Yemena” (“Markiza d’Yéména”), prose, Adolf Now[aczyński] (trans.) 7: Kazimierz Glińksi, “On the Death of Kornel Ujejski” (“Na śmierć Kornela Ujejskiego”), poetry 7-9: Kazimierz Radwan, “The Polish Colony in Berlin” (“Kolonia polska w Berlinie”), essay 9: A[dolf] Nowaczyński, “Physiology of the Races” (“Fizyologia wyścigów”), essay 9-10: “Review of reviews” (“Przegląd przeglądów”) – Przegląd powszechny, Biblioteka warszawska, Prawda, Zlata Praha, Svetozor 10-11: “Books” (“Książki”) – book reviews of works by Henryk Biegeleisen, Leon Swieżawski 11: “Chronicle” (“Kronika”) – brief notes and announcements about Lwów cathedral, Potocki at the Women’s Reading Room, theater in Warsaw; letter from Poznań 11: K.S., “Sport,” essay 12: Open letter from the editors to Głos Narodu 12: “Echoes” (“Echa”) – brief notes and letters 12: announcement of contest for a title vignette 12: Correspondence from the editors

Vol. 1, no. 4 (16 October 1897) 1: Henryk Rauchinger, title vignette 1: Kazimierz Tetmajer, “Near Herculaneum” (“Pod Herculaneum”), poetry 1-2: Bolesław Lutomski, “On National Psychology” (Z psychologii narodowej”), essay 2-4: Antoni Potocki, “Jubilee Profiles: Henryk Sienkiewicz” (“Sylwetki jubileuszowe: Henryk Sienkiewicz”), essay 3-4: Gabriela Zapolska, “The Gray Hour” (“Szara godzina”), prose 3: photograph of Gabriela Zapolska 4: Jan Baudouin de Courtenay, “Un-opportunistic Thoughts” (“Myśli nieoportunistyczne”), prose 4: Marya Komornicka, “Act of Humility” (“Akt pokory”), poetry

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5: Marya Komornicka, “Mood” (“Nastrój”), poetry 5-6: Julian Ochorowicz, “On the Question of ‘Mediumism’” (“W kwestyi ‘medyumizmu’”), essay 5-11: Louis Couperus, “The Duchess of Yemena” (“Markiza d’Yéména”), prose, Adolf Now[aczyński] (trans.) 6: Maciej Szukiewicz, “From Nannies’ Fables and Miraculous Beliefs” (“Z baśni piastunek i cudownych wierzeń”), poetry 6-7: Ludwik Szczepański, “Theater – La loi de l’homme” (“Teatr – ‘Prawo mężczyzny’”), review 7: Ephraim Moses Lilien, vignette 7-8: N.T. “Theater in England,” review (correspondence) 8-9: Marya Szeliga [Maria Czarnowska-Loevy], “The Feminist Movement” (“Prąd feministyczny”), essay 9:“Review of reviews” (“Przegląd przeglądów”) – Prawda, Rozhledy 9-10: “Books” (“Książki”) – book reviews of works by Władysław Reymont, Gabriela Zapolska 10: photograph of Władysław Reymont 10-11: “Chronicle” (“Kronika”) – brief notes and announcements about monument to Kornel Ujejski, letter from Jednodniówka Monachijska, Kazimierz Tetmajer, publication of Maurycy Zych, Władysław Rabski 11: Stanisław Wyspiański, drawing of a view from Krakow 11: K.S., “Sport,” essay 11: announcement of contest for a title vignette 12: “Echoes” (“Echa”) – brief notes and letters 12: Correspondence from the editors

Vol. 1, no. 5 (23 October 1897) 1: Henryk Rauchinger, title vignette 1: Stanisław Wierzbicki, “Prayer” (“Modlitwa”), poetry 1-3: Antoni Potocki, “Jubilee Profiles: Henryk Sienkiewicz” (“Sylwetki jubileuszowe: Henryk Sienkiewicz”), essay 2-8: Stanisław Przybyszewski, “At the Sea” (“Nad morzem”), prose 2: photograph of Stanisław Przybyszewski and his wife, Dagny 3: photograph of a scene from act III of Małka Szwarzenkopf 3-4: Stephane Mallarmé, “Hérodiade” (“Herodyada”), poetry, Antoni Lange (trans.) 4-5: Julian Ochorowicz, “On the Question of ‘Mediumism’” (“W kwestyi ‘medyumizmu’”), essay 5: Lew Mierzejewski, “Evoe vita!”, poetry 5-7: L-k [possibly Stanisław Lack], “Criticism– Boycott–Impression.” (“Krytyka- Boykot-Impresya”), essay 6: Olga Boznańska, Young Girls [reproduction of painting] 7: Jan Baudouin de Courtenay, “Un-opportunistic Thoughts” (“Myśli nieoportunistyczne”), prose 7: Olga Boznańska, Study [reproduction of painting] 8-9: Ludwik Szczepański, “Theater - Małka Szwarzenkopf,” essay 8: Stanisław Janowski, drawings of “Jewish types” in Małka Szwarzenkopf

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8-10: Gabryela Zapolska, “The Gray Hour” (“Szara godzina”), prose 9: Kazimierz Skrzyński, “Małka Szwarzenkopf in Lwów,” essay 9-10: “Letters” (“Listy”) – from Kazimierz Radwan in Berlin 10-11: “Review of reviews” (“Przegląd przeglądów”) – Ateneum, Wiener Rundschau, Prawda, Rozhledy 11: “Books” (“Książki”) – book reviews of works by Jakób Horowitz, Viktor Charbonnel 11: “Chronicle” (“Kronika”) – brief notes and announcements about music in Krakow, psychology lectures in Women’s Reading Room 11: K.S., “Sport,” essay 12: “Echoes” (“Echa”) – brief notes and letters 12: announcement of contest for a title vignette 12: Illustrations in this issue 12: Correspondence from the editors

Vol. 1, no. 6 (30 October 1897) 1: Teofil Terlecki, title vignette 1: Kazimierz Tetmajer, “From an Eagle’s Height” (“Z orlej wyżyny”), poetry 1-2: Antoni Potocki, “Jubilee Profiles: Henryk Sienkiewicz” (“Sylwetki jubileuszowe: Henryk Sienkiewicz”), essay 2: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 3: Stanisław Wyrzykowski, “The Forsaken Cemetery” (“Opuszczony cmentarz”), poetry 3: Jan Stanisławski, reproduction of Crosses in the Wilderness (Krzyże na pustkowiu) 3-4: Antoni Chołoniewski, “Eve of All Souls Day” (“W wieczór zaduszny”), prose 4-5: Julian Ochorowicz, “On the Question of ‘Mediumism’” (“W kwestyi ‘medyumizmu’”), essay 5: Stanisław Pieńkowski, “Prayer to Intuition” (“Modlitwa do intuicyi”), poetry 5: Tadeusz Miciński, “Albatross,” poetry 5-6: W.F. [Wilhelm Feldman], “Arnold Böcklin,” essay 5-10: Sewer [Ignacy Maciejowski], “Wikta’s Romance” (“Romans Wikty”), prose 6-7: Edgar Allan Poe, “A Dream within a Dream” (“Sen we śnie), “Helena,” I. Ra. (trans.) 7-8: Ludwik Szczepański, “Krakow Theater,” review 8-9: L-k [possibly Stanisław Lack], “Criticism– Boycott–Impression.” (“Krytyka- Boykot-Impresya”), essay 9-10: letter from Konfederatka in Poznań 10-11: letter from Felicya Nossig in Paris 11: “Review of reviews” (“Przegląd przeglądów”) – Przegląd tygoniowy, Revues des revues, L’Art et la vie, Revue de Paris, Revue des deux mondes 11: “Books” (“Książki”) – book reviews of works by Aureli Urbański, Teodor Smolarz, 11-12: K.S., “Sport,” essay 12: “Echoes” (“Echa”) – brief notes and letters 12: Correspondence from the editors; erratum

Vol. 1, no. 7 (6 November 1897) 1-2: Stanisław Wyspiański, “St. Cross” (“Św. Krzyż”), essay

255

1: Stanisław Wyspiański, drawings of St. Cross Church during restoration and section of a baroque stall at St. Cross Church; 2: Stanisław Wyspiański, drawings of ornaments from St. Cross 3-4: Cezary Jellenta, “Two Merchant Epics” (“Dwie epopee kupieckie”), essay 3: Stanisław Wyspiański, drawing of the decorations of nave in St. Cross 3-6: Cecylia Walewska, “Oblivion” (“Zapomnienie”), prose 4: Adam Łada [Cybulski], “Through a Gray Canvas” (“Przez kanwę szarą”), poetry 5: Marya Komornicka, “The Angel’s Rebellion” (“Bunt anioła”), poetry 6-7: Maciej Szukiewicz, “On Contemporary Czechs” (“Z współczesnych Czech”), essay 6: Stanisław Wyspiański, drawing from decoration in St. Cross 7: Otokar Březina, From the cycle Secret Horizons (z cyklu “Tajemne dalky”), poetry 7: Stanisław Wyspiański, drawing from decoration in St. Cross 7-10: Sewer [Ignacy Maciejowski], “Wikta’s Romance” (“Romans Wikty”), prose 8-9: Ludwik Szczepański, “Theater – Szwaczki,” essay 9: Fernand Gregh, “La brise en larmes,” poetry, Adam Łada [Cybulski] (trans.) 9-10: letter from Konfederatka in Poznań 10-11: “Review of reviews” (“Przegląd przeglądów”) – Ateneum, Cosmopolis, Revue bleue 11: “Books” (“Książki”) – book reviews of works by Zygmunt Sarnecki, M. Mazanowski 11: “Chronicle” (“Kronika”) – brief notes and announcements about contest in Głos, lecture at the Women’s Reading Room; letter 11-12: K.S., “Sport,” essay 12: “Echoes” (“Echa”) – brief notes and letters 12: announcement of contest for a title vignette 12: Correspondence from the editors

Vol. 1, no. 8 (13 November 1897) 1: Konstanty Mańkowski, title vignette 1: Jan Kasprowicz, “Get up, Orkan!” (“Wstań Orkanie!”), poetry 1: Andrzej Niemojewski, “Before Tomorrow” (“Przed jutrem”), poetry 1-2: Cezary Jellenta, “Two Merchant Epics” (“Dwie epopee kupieckie”), essay 2: Kazimierz Tetmajer, “Birds” (“Ptaki”), poetry 2-3: Stanisław Wyrzykowski, “Maurycy Zych,” essay 3: Lucyan Rydel, “In Autumn” (“Jesienią”), poetry 3-8: Cecylia Walewska, “Oblivion” (“Zapomnienie”), prose 4-5: Julian Ochorowicz, “On the Question of ‘Mediumism’” (“W kwestyi ‘medyumizmu’”), essay 5: Nekanda Trepka [Mścisław Edward Nekanda-Trepka], “Theater in England,” essay 6-7: Artur Nowaczyński, “Matejko House” (“Dom Matejki”), essay 6: Teofil Terlecki, reproduction of The Death of Icarus (Śmierć Ikara) 7: Władysław Nawrocki, “When Dream of Death [Comes]” (“Gdy na sen śmierci”), poetry 7-8: Sem. [Maciej Szukiewicz], “About Krakow’s Exhibitions of Fine Arts” (“Z wystawy sztuk pięknych w Krakowie”), essay 7: Jan Stanisławski, Moonlit Landscape (Krajobraz księżycowy) [reproduction]

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8-9: Selim [Władysław Bukowiński], “From an Unwritten Poem” (“Z nienapisanego poematu”), poetry 8: Teofil Terlecki, vignette 8-9: August Strindberg, “Love and Bread” (“Miłość i chleb”), prose 9-10: “Letters” (“Listy”) – from Karol Bicz [Ludwik Szczepański] in Vienna, Czesław Rola in Poznań 10: W-y., “Theater in Krakow,” essay 10-11: B-mol., “On Music,” essay 11: “Review of reviews” (“Przegląd przeglądów”) – Przegląd polski, Intern[ationale] lit[erarische] Berichte, Die Gesellschaft, North American Review, New England Magazine 11: K.S., “Sport,” essay 12: “Echoes” (“Echa”) – brief notes and letters 12: announcement of contest for a title vignette 12: Correspondence from the editors

Vol. 1, no. 9 (20 November 1897) 1: Teofil Terlecki, title vignette 1: Kazimierz Tetmajer, “To the 19th century” (“XIX wiekowi”), poetry 1-2: Cezary Jellenta, “Two Merchant Epics” (“Dwie epopee kupieckie”), essay 2: Jan Kasprowicz, “The Immense Sea of Life Roars Before Me” (“Życia ogromne morze grzmi przedemną”), poetry 3-4: Anna Wyczółkowska, “About the Current Crisis in Psychology” (“O obecnej kryzys w psychologii”), essay 3-7: August Strindberg, “Love and Bread” (“Miłość i chleb”), prose 4: Stanisław Pieńkowski, “Genius” (“Geniusz”) and “The Soul of the Crowd” (“Dusza tłumu”), poetry 5-6: Kazimierz Krauz, “The Underground Future of Mankind” (“Podziemna przyszłość ludzkości”), essay 6-7: Ludwik Szczepański, “Theater,” review 6: Ephraim Moses Lilien, vignette 7-8: F. [Wilhelm Feldman], “At the Moment of Change” (“W chwili przełomu”), essay 7-11: Edgar Allan Poe, “Lygeia,” prose, J. L-k. [Stanisław Lack] (trans.) 7: Stanisław Wyspiański, Satans (Szatany) [reproduction of drawing] 8: Andrzej Niemojewski, “Where Did You [My Roses] Disappear?” (“Gdzieżeście mi się podziały”), poetry 8: Jan Stanisławski, vignette 8-9: Kazimierz Radwan, “The Situation in the Duchy of Poznań” (“Situacya w Księstwie Poznańskiem”), essay 9-10: Δ, “Letters from Lwów” (“Listy lwowskie”), essay (correspondence) 10: “Books” (“Książki”) – book reviews of works by Jan Iwański, Stanisław Bełza 10-11: “Chronicle” (“Kronika”) – brief notes and announcements about music, exhibition of sketches, Małka Szwarcenkopf, lectures, new studies 11: K.S., “Sport,” essay 12: “Echoes” (“Echa”) – brief notes and letters 12: finalists in contest for a title vignette

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12: Correspondence from the editors

Vo. 1, no. 10 (27 November 1897) 1: Teodor Axentowicz, title vignette 1: Kazimierz Tetmajer, “A Wakeup Call” (“Pobudka”), poetry 1-2: Felicyan Szopski, “Before the Jubilee for Władysław Żeleński” (“Przed jubileuszem Władysława Żeleńskiego”), essay 1: photograph of Władysław Żeleński 2: Jan Kasprowicz, “Oh Crowd, You Used to Be an Idol to Me!” (“Byłeś mi dawniej bożyszczem, o tłumie!”), poetry 2-3: Anna Wyczółkowska, “About the Current Crisis in Psychology” (“O obecnej kryzys w psychologii”), essay 3: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 3-4: Gabryela Zapolska, “The Anti-Semite” (“Antysemitnik”), prose 3: J. Kruszewski, illustrations to “The Anti-Semite” 4-5: Kazimierz Krauz, “The Underground Future of Mankind” (“Podziemna przyszłość ludzkości”), essay 5: Jan Baudouin de Courtenay, “Un-opportunistic Thoughts” (“Myśli nieoportunistyczne”), prose 5-6: Iza Moszczeńska, “The Intellectual Life around Poznań” (“Życie umysłowe w Poznańskiem”), essay 5-11: Edgar Allan Poe, “Lygeia,” prose, J. L-k. (trans.) 6: Sem. [Maciej Szukiewicz], “The Moon and Thaler” (“Księżyc i talar”), poetry 6: Ephraim Moses Lilien: vignette 6-8: Δ, “Letters from Lwów” (“Listy lwowskie”), essay (correspondence) 7: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignettes 8-9: Ludwik Szczepański, “Theater,” review 9: L.R., “The Virgin Mary Chapel in the Franciscan Church” (“Kaplica N.M.P. w kościele Franciszkanów”), essay 10: Z[enon] P[ar]vi, “On the Matter of Dramatic Contests” (“W sprawie konkursów dramatycznych”), essay 10: “Review of reviews” (“Przegląd przeglądów”) – Przegląd literacki, Int. Lit. Berichte (Reichman) 10-11: “Books” (“Książki”), review – Józef Kallenbach’s Adam Mickiewicz; Artur Gruszecki’s The Moles. A Contemporary Novel (Krety. Powieść współczesna); Wilhelm Feldman’s Ananke 11-12: “Chronicle” (“Kronika”) – brief notes and announcements about the Society of Music, upcoming TZSP exhibition 12: “Echoes” (“Echa”) – brief notes and letters 12: Announcement of vignette contest winner (Karel Hlaváček) 12: Correspondence from the editors

Vol. 1, no. 11 (4 December 1897) 1: Karel Hlaváček, title vignette 1: Andrzej Niemojewski, “The Lovers” (“Kochankowie”), poetry 1-2: Seweryn Berson, “Władysław Żeleński,” essay

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2: Adolf Nowaczyński, “The Poet and ‘Critics’” (“Poeta i ‘Krytycy’”), review 2: Adam Łada [Cybulski], “Before Night” (“Przed Nocą”), poetry 3: Jan Stanisławski, Winter (Zima) [reproduction of painting] 3-5: Gabryela Zapolska, “The Anti-Semite” (“Antysemitnik”), prose 4-5: Anna Wyczółkowska, “About the Current Crisis in Psychology” (“O obecnej kryzys w psychologii”), essay 5: Jan Baudouin de Courtenay, “Un-opportunistic Thoughts” (“Myśli nieoportunistyczne”), prose 5-6: Kazimierz Krauz, “The Underground Future of Mankind” (“Podziemna przyszłość ludzkości”), essay 6: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 6-7: Maciej Szukiewicz, “The Zakopane Fable” (“Zakopiańska bajka”), poetry 7: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 6-8: Tomasz Czaszka [Tadeusz Rittner], “The Jealous One” (“Zazdrosny”), prose 7-8: Ludwik Szczepański, “Theater,” review 8: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 8-9: Włodzimierz Bugiel, “On Parisian theater and exhibitions” (“Z teatrów i wystaw paryskich”), review 9-10: Δ, “Letters from Lwów” (“Listy lwowskie”), essay (correspondence) 10: Iza Moszczeńska, “The Intellectual Life around Poznań” (“Życie umysłowe w Poznańskiem”), essay 10-11: Kazimierz Szczepański, “The Student Dorm” (“Dom akademicki”), essay 11: Author of U kolebki narodu, “On the Matter of Dramatic Contests” (“W sprawie konkursów dramatycznych”), essay 11: r.g. “Censorship in Theater Here [in Galicia] [by Suesser Ignacy]” (“Cenzura teatralna u nas”), review 11-12: “Review of reviews” (“Przegląd przeglądów”) – Ateneum, Prawda, Revue des revues 12: “Chronicle” (“Kronika”) – brief notes and announcements about Joseph Hofmann, event at Women’s Reading Room 12: Correspondence from the editors

Vol. 1, no. 12 (11 December 1897) 1: Ephraim Moses Lilien, title vignette 1: Artur Górksi, “To the Youth” (“Do młodzieży”), essay 2: Antoni Sova, “To Teodor Mommsen” (“Teodorowi Mommsenowi”), poetry, Maciej Szukiewicz (trans.) 2: A[rtur] G[órski], “Our Philosophy” (“Filozofia u nas”), essay 2-3: Seweryn Berson, “Władysław Żeleński,” essay 3: Stanisław Pieńkowski, “From a Dream” (“Ze snu”), poetry 3-5: Anna Wyczółkowska, “About the Current Crisis in Psychology” (“O obecnej kryzys w psychologii”), essay 3-5: Gabryela Zapolska, “The Anti-Semite” (“Antysemitnik”), prose 5: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 5-7: Kazimierz Krauz, “The Underground Future of Mankind” (“Podziemna przyszłość ludzkości”), essay

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6: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 5-8: J.H. Rosny, “The Silent One” (“Milcząca”), prose 7: Bolesław Leśmian, “The Park in Snow” (“Park w śniegu”), poetry 7: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 7-8: Ludwik Szczepański, “Theater,” review 8: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 8-10: Józef Kodis, “From the Wide World” (“Z szerokiego świata”), poetry 9: Letters from Warsaw (“Listy z Warszawy) – from Kazimierz Daniłowicz-Strzelbicki 9-10: Iza Moszczeńska, “The Intellectual Life around Poznań” (“Życie umysłowe w Poznańskiem”), essay 10: Stanisław Janowski, The Bunny (Zajączek), [reproduction of painting] 10-11: “The Matter of Women’s Associations in Lwów” (“W sprawie Stow[arzyszeń] kobiecych we Lwowie”), essay 11: Robert Klemensiewicz, “On the Matter of Pedagogy in Lwów” (“W sprawie pedagogii lwowskiej”), essay 11: “Review of reviews” (“Przegląd przeglądów”) – Humanitarian, Ord och Bild 11: “Books” (“Książki”), review – Józef Klemensiewicz’s Poetry (Poezye) 12: “Echoes” (“Echa”) – brief notes and letters 12: Józef Mehoffer, vignette; Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 12: Obituary for Konstanty Mańkowski 12: Correspondence from the editors

Vol. 1, no. 13 (18 December 1897) 1: Stanisław Wyspiański, title vignette 1: Editorial statement, “From the editors,” essay 1-2: Dr. Artur Górski, “Our Philosophy” (“Filozofia u nas”), essay 2-3: Seweryn Berson, “Władysław Żeleński,” essay 3: Józef Mehoffer, Anxiety (Niepokój) [reproduction of painting] 3- 5Anna Wyczołkowska, “About the Current Crisis in Psychology” (“O obecnej kryzys w psychologii”), essay 3-4: Gabryela Zapolska, “The Anti-Semite” (“Antysemitnik”), prose 5: Zygmunt Rostkowski, “To a Poet-Friend” (“Do przyjaciela-poety”), poetry 5-7: Kazimierz Krauz, “The Underground Future of Mankind” (“Podziemna przyszłość ludzkości”), essay 7: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 5-8: J.H. Rosny, “The Silent One” (“Milcząca”), prose 7: Adam Łada [Cybulski], “Fatalita,” poetry 7-8: St[anisław] R[oman] Lewandowski, “As I See It” (“Jak widzę”), essay (correspondence) 8: Jerzy Płoński, “From London” (“Z Londynu”), review (correspondence) 8: José-Maria de Hérédia, “The Spring” (“Źródło”) and “The Vision of Khem” (“Wizya Khem”), poetry, J. Klemensiewicz (trans.) 9: W-y., “Exhibition of Religious Paintings” (“Wystawa obrazów treści religijnej”), review 9-10: Ludiwk Szczepański, “Stanisław Wyspiański,” essay 9: photograph of Stanisław Wyspiański

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10: L[udwik] S[zczepański], Krakow Theater” (“Teatr krakowski”), review 10: Δ, “Letters from Lwów” (“Listy lwowskie”), essay (correspondence) 10-11: “For Children” – reviews of children’s literature 11: “Chronicle” (“Kronika”) – brief notes and announcements about concerts, Kazimierz Tetmajer’s poetry publication, death of Alphonse Daudet, letter from Z. Bytkowski 12: Quasimodo [Artur Górski], “Styka with Pantheon” (“Styka z Panteonem”), essay 12: “Echoes” (“Echa”) – brief notes and letters 12: Correspondence from the editors

Vol. 1, no. 14 (25 December 1897) 1: Bolesław Nitecki, title vignette 1: Editorial statement, “From the editors,” essay 2: Artur Górski, “On Christmas Eve” (“We wilią”), essay 2: Jan Kasprowicz, “[Are] We Obsolete?” (“My przeżyci?”), poetry 2-3: Adolf Dygasiński, “Miecio and Franuś,” prose 3-4: Roman Lewandowski, “Contemporary Polish Painters: Leon Wyczółkowski” (“Współcześni malarze polscy: Leon Wyczółkowski”), essay 4: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 3: Leon Wyczółkowski, Sarcophagus (Sarkofag) [reproduction of painting]; 4-5: Gabryela Zapolska, “The Anti-Semite” (“Antysemitnik”), prose 5: Adam Asnyk, “To Mr. Peter” (“Do pana Piotra”), poetry 5: Antoni Potocki, “Alphonse Daudet,” essay 6: Kazimierz Tetmajer, “Hermes’ Statue” (“Posąg Hermesa”), poetry 6: Leon Wyczółkowski, Self Portrait (Portret własny) and Portrait of a Lady (Portret damy) [reproductions of paintings] 6-8: Kazimierz Krauz, “The Underground Future of Mankind” (“Podziemna przyszłość ludzkości”), essay 6-7: Alphonse Daudet, “Three Pastoral Masses” (“Trzy msze pasterskie”), prose, H. H. (trans.) 7: Leon Wyczółkowski, Visitation (Odwiedziny) [reproduction of painting] 8: Józef Mehoffer, reproduction of stained-glass sketch 8: T[adeusz] Konczyński, “On the Reform of High Schools” (“O reformie szkół średnich”), essay 8-9: Jerzy Ploński, “From London” (“Z Londynu”), review (correspondence) 9: Stevo Spahić, “From Sarajevo” (“Z Sarajewa”), correspondence 9-10: Δ, “Letters from Lwów” (“Listy lwowskie”), essay (correspondence) 9: Józef Mehoffer, stained-glass sketch 10: Fernand Pradel, “Miserere of Love” (“Miserere miłości”), poetry, Kazimiera Zawistowska (trans.) 10-11: Ludwik Szczepański, “Krakow Theater” (“Teatr krakowski”), review 10: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 11: Letter to the editor from Kazimierz Tetmajer 11: Ephraim Moses Lilien, vignette 11: Andrzej Niemojewski, “On the Scroll of a Rose” (“Na zwoju róży”), poetry 11: Jan Stanisławski, vignette 11: K.S., “Sport,” essay

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11: “For Children” – reviews of children’s literature 12: “Echoes” (“Echa”) – brief notes and letters 12: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignettes (motifs from Gothic cathedrals) 12: announcement of a contest for a sonnet and novella 12: Correspondence from the editors

1898

Vol. 2, no. 1 (1 January 1898) 1: Bolesław Nitecki, title vignette 1: Editorial statement, “From the editors,” essay 2: Zofia Daszyńska, “Learning Outside of the University” (“Nauka po za uniwersytetem”), essay 3: Stanisław Wyspiański, The Heroes’ Sprits (Duchy bohaterów), [reproduction of drawing] 3-5: Adolf Dygasiński, “Miecio and Franuś,” prose 4: Antoni Potocki, “Alphonse Daudet,” essay 4: Kazimierz Tetmajer, “Virgini Intactae,” poetry 4-5: Włodzimierz Bugiel, “The Death of Alfons Daudet” (“Zgon Alfonsa Daudeta”), essay (correspondence) 5: Kornel Ujejski, “Pearls of Sorrow” (“Perły boleści”), poetry 5-7: Kazimierz Krauz, “The Underground Future of Mankind” (“Podziemna przyszłość ludzkości”), essay 6: Stanisław Wyspiański, St. Francis (Święty Franciszek) [reproduction of stained-glass cartoon] 6-7: Gabryela Zapolska, “The Anti-Semite” (“Antysemitnik”), prose 7: Jan Kasprowicz, “[My] Land, [My] Dear Mother” (“Ziemio, droga rodzicielko”), poetry 7-8: Δ, “Letters from Lwów” (“Listy lwowskie”), essay (correspondence) 8: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 7: I[gnacy] Pieńkowski, Head of a Girl (Głowa dziewczyny), drawing 8: Karol Bicz [Ludwik Szczepański], “From Vienna” (“Z Wiednia”), essay 8-11: Alphonse Daudet, “Three Pastoral Masses” (“Trzy msze pasterskie”), prose, H. H. (trans.) 9: Jerzy Płoński, “From the Thames” (“Z nad Tamizy”), correspondence 9: Teofil Terlecki, vignette 10-11: Ludwik Szczepański, “Theater” (“Teatr”), review 10: Antoni Stanisław Procajłowicz, vignette 11: Stanisław Pieńkowski, “The Return” (“Powrót”), poetry 11: X, “Philosopher’s Stone” (“Kamień filozoficzny”), essay 11: “Books” (“Książki”), review – Cezary Jellenta’s The Gallery of Last Days (Galerya ostatnich dni); Władysław Bełza’s For Children (Dla dzieci) 11-12: “Chronicle” (“Kronika”) – brief notes and announcements about new publications, Matejko House opening 12: “Echoes” (“Echa”) – brief notes and letters

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12: Ludwik Szczepański (“Oświadczenie”), correspondence 12: Correspondence from the editors

Vol. 2, no. 2 (8 January 1898) 13: Antoni Stanisław Procajłowicz, title vignette 13: Eliza Orzeszkowa, “Thoughts” (“Myśli”), poetry 13-14: Editorial statement, “Obituary” (“Nekrolog”), essay 14: Marya Komornicka, “Tomorrow” (“Nazajutrz”), poetry 14-15: Jan Lorentowicz, “Young France: Octave Mirbeau” (“Młoda Francya: Oktawiusz Mirbeau”), essay 15-17: Kazimierz Krauz, “The Underground Future of Mankind” (“Podziemna przyszłość ludzkości”), essay 15-16: Adolf Dygasiński, “Miecio and Franuś,” prose 17: Adam Łada [Cybulski], “Because I Loved Silence...” (“Żem kochał ciszę...”), poetry 17: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 17-18: Merlin, “Artistic Reflections” (“Refleksye artystyczne”), essay 17-19: Gabryela Zapolska, “The Anti-Semite” (“Antysemitnik”), prose 18: Francis Vielé Griffin, “At Helen’s Grave” (“Nad grobem Heleny”), poetry, Antoni Lange (trans.) 18: reproduction of painting or drawing initialed “F.D.” 18: Wacław Wolski, “From Płock’s Hills” (“Z płockich wzgórz”), poetry 18-19: Stanisław Niewiadomski, “On Lwów’s Musical Movement” (“Z ruchu muzycznego w Lwowie”), review 19: L. “From Warsaw” (“Z Warszawy”), review (correspondence) 19: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 20: Karol Bicz [Ludwik Szczepański], “From Vienna” (“Z Wiednia”), essay 20-21: Δ, “Letters from Lwów” (“Listy lwowskie”), essay (correspondence) 20-21: D. mol. [Maryla Wolska z Młodnickich], “Fantasies” (“Fantazye”), prose 21: A[rtur] G[órski], “Our Philosophy” (“Filozofia u nas”), essay 21-22: “Letters to the Editor” (“Listy do Redakcyi”) - from Kazimierz Tetmajer, Roman Lewandowski, Wilhelm Feldman 22: photograph of Kazimierz Tetmajer 22: X, “Philosopher’s Stone” (“Kamień filozoficzny”), essay 23: Ludwik Szczepański, “Krakow Theater” (“Teatr krakowski”), review 23: “Review of reviews” (“Przegląd przeglądów”) – Głos warszawski 23: announcement of a contest for a sonnet and novella 23-24: “Chronicle” (“Kronika”) – brief notes and announcements about new publications, marriage of P.M. Węgrzyn, Society of Friends of Astronomy 24: “Echoes” (“Echa”) – brief notes and letters 24: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette (motif from Gothic cathedrals) 24: Correspondence from the editors

Vol. 2, no. 3 (15 January 1898) 25: Henryk Rauchinger, title vignette 25: Franciszka Ansztain, “At the Gap” (“U wyłomu”), poetry

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25-26: Anna Wyczółkowska, “A Women’s University in Krakow?” (“Uniwersytet kobiecy w Krakowie?”), essay 26-27: Jan Lorentowicz, “Young France: Octave Mirbeau” (“Młoda Francya: Oktawiusz Mirbeau”), essay 27-28: Stanisław Pieńkowski, “Fragment,” poetry 27-: Octave Mirbeau, “The Madman” (“Wariat”), prose, m. (trans.) 28-30: Adam Cybulski, “On Young Vienna Literature: Hermann Bahr” (“Z literatury młodo-wiedeńskiej: Herman Bahr”), essay 28-29: Jean Richepin, “Oceano Nox” and “The Wish” (“Życzenie”), poetry, Antoni Lange (trans.) 29: Nekanda Trepka [Mścisław Edward Nekanda-Trepka], “Theater in England” (“Teatr w Anglii”), essay 29: Teofil Terlecki, vignette 30: [Stanisław] Roman Lewandowski, “As I See It” (“Jak widzę”), essay (correspondence) 30: Alfred Daun, Lilla Weneda, sculpture 31-32: Włodzimierz Bugiel, “From Paris” (“Z Paryża”), essay (correspondence) 31: Stanisław Wyspiański, Miss Władzia (Panna Władzia), drawing 31-33: Gabryela Zapolska, “The Anti-Semite” (“Antysemitnik”), prose 32-33: Karol Bicz [Ludwik Szczepański], “From Vienna” (“Z Wiednia”), essay 33: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 33-34: Δ, “Letters from Lwów” (“Listy lwowskie”), essay (correspondence) 34: W.O. [Ludwik Szczepański], “Krakow Theater” (“Teatr krakowski”), review 34-35: “Books” (“Książki”), review – Henryk Biegeleisen’s The Illustrated History of Polish Literature (Illustrowane dzieje literatury polskiej); Kazimierz Krauz’s Sociological Law of Retrospection (Socyologiczne prawo retrospekcyi); Tomasz Łubieński’s The Polish Question in Russia (Kwestya polska w Rosyi) 34: Stanisław Wyspiański, Apollo [reproduction of drawing] 35: Stanisław Niewiadomski, “On Lwów’s Musical Movement” (“Z ruchu muzycznego w Lwowie”), review 35: “Review of reviews” (“Przegląd przeglądów”) – Neue Revue 35: Ludwik Szczepański, “Krakow Theater” (“Teatr krakowski”), review 35: “Chronicle” (“Kronika”) – brief notes and announcements about new publications article reproduced in Przegląd tygodniowy, Roman Żelazowski, Lola Beeth, sonnet and novella contest 36: “Echoes” (“Echa”) – brief notes and letters 24: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette (motif from Gothic cathedrals) 36: Correspondence from the editors 36: Wincenty Ogórek [Ludwik Szczepański], “The Devil in Nienadówka” (“Czart w Nienadówce”), poetry

Vol. 2, no. 4 (22 January 1898) 37: Teodor Axentowicz, title vignette 37: Kazimierz Tetmajer, “Fragments” (“Fragmenty”), poetry 37-38: anonymous, “‘J’Accuse,’” essay 38: vignette [artist not identified]

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38: Zofia Daszyńska, “Learning outside of the University” (“Nauka po za uniwersytetem”), essay 38-41: Jan Lorentowicz, “Young France: Octave Mirbeau” (“Młoda Francya: Oktawiusz Mirbeau”), essay 39: Jacek Malczewski, Melancholia [reproduction of painting] 39-41: Peter Nansen, “On a Bad Boy and a Good Girl” (“O złym chłopcu i o grzecznej dziewczynce”), prose 41: Włodzimierz Perzyński, “Awakening” (“Przebudzenie”), poetry 41: Adam Cybulski, “On Young Vienna Literature: Hermann Bahr” (“Z literatury młodo- wiedeńskiej: Herman Bahr”), essay 41: Władysław Orkan, “Longing” (“Tęsknota”), poetry 41-42: Nekanda Trepka [Mścisław Edward Nekanda-Trepka], “Theater in England” (“Teatr w Anglii”), essay 42: Edgar Allan Poe, “Silence” (“Milczenie”) and “Eldorado,” poetry, Antoni Lange (trans.) 42-44: Karol Bicz [Ludwik Szczepański], “From Vienna” (“Z Wiednia”), essay 43: Bolesław Biegas, Sleeping Knights (Rycerze Śpiący) [photograph of sculpture] 42-44: Gabryela Zapolska, “The Anti-Semite” (“Antysemitnik”), prose 44-45: “On the Matter of Translation into Foreing Languages” (“W sprawie przekładów na obce języki,”), correspondence from S. Horowitz, response by Wilhelm Feldman 45-46: “Books” (“Książki”), review – X. Karol Niedziałkowski’s Impressions from the Pilgrimage to the Holy Land (Wrażenia z pielgrzymki do ziemi świętej); J. Novicow’s L’avenir de la race blanche; Gustave Manteuff’s Civilization, Literature and Art in the Old Colony at the Baltic Sea (Cywilizacya, literatura i sztuka w dawnej kolonii nad Baltykiem) 45-46: Ludwik Szczepański, “Expedition to Nienadówka” (“Wyprawa do Nienandówki”), essay 46: “Chronicle” (“Kronika”) – brief notes and announcements about Zola and the Dreyfus affair, new publications, new art, Krakow theater, sonnet and novella contest 46: photograph of Roman Żelazowski 47-48: “Echoes” (“Echa”) – brief notes and letters 47: Józef Mehoffer, drawing; Antoni Stanisław Procajłowicz, vignette 48: information about illustrations in current issue 48: Correspondence from the editors 48: announcement of a contest for a sonnet and novella 48: Wincenty Ogórek [Ludwik Szczepański], “Jubilee Cantata” (“Kantata Jubileuszowa”), poetry

Vol. 2, no. 5 (29 January 1898) 49: Bolesław Nitecki, title vignette 49: Charles Marie Leconte de Lisle, “In Exelsis,” poetry, Miriam [Zenon Przesmycki] (trans.) 49-50: Artur Górski, “The False [Regulation?] about Morality” (“Fałszywa fasya moralności”), essay 50: Marya Konopnicka, “Fragment,” poetry 51-52: Bolesław Lutomski, “At the Moment of Change” (“W chwili przełomu”), essay

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51-54: Arthur Schnitzler, “Half-past One” (“Wpół do Drugiej”), prose, Adam Cybulski (trans.) 52: Tadeusz Miciński, “Dusk” (“Zmierzch”), poetry 52-54: Jan Lorentowicz, “Young France: Octave Mirbeau” (“Młoda Francya: Oktawiusz Mirbeau”), essay 54: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 54: Miriam [Zenon Przesmycki], “Ricordo,” poetry 54-55: Adam Cybulski, “On Young Vienna Literature: Arthur Schnitzler” (“Z literatury młodo-wiedeńskiej: Artur Schnitzler”), essay 54: Stanisław Wyspiański, Sleeping Child (Dziecko śpiące) [reproduction of drawing] 55-56: Felix Hollaender, “Hermann Sudermann and His Tragedy ‘Johannes’” (“Herman Sudermann i jego tragedya ‘Johannes’”), essay 55: Ignacy Pieńkowski, reproduction of a drawing 56: Wacław Wolski, “The Rally” (“Wiec”), poetry 56-57: Karol Bicz [Ludwik Szczepański], “From Vienna” (“Z Wiednia”), essay 56-57: Gabryela Zapolska, “The Anti-Semite” (“Antysemitnik”), prose 57: Bogusław Adamowicz, “The Blessing” (“Błogosławienie”), poetry 57-59: Δ, “Letters from Lwów” (“Listy lwowskie”), essay (correspondence) 58-60: Ludwik Szczepański, “Expedition to Nienadówka” (“Wyprawa do Nienandówki”), essay 59: “Books” (“Książki”), review – Czesław Jankowski’s Young Poland in Songs (Młoda polska w pieśni); Jean Demoor, Jean Massart, and Emile Vandervelde’s L’évolution régressive en biologie et en sociologie; Henri Ramin’s Impressions d’Allemagne 59: “Review of reviews” (“Przegląd przeglądów”) – Przegląd polski 59-60: “Chronicle” (“Kronika”) – brief notes and announcements about new art, Emile Zola, performances 60: “Echoes” (“Echa”) – brief notes and letters 60: Wincenty Ogórek [Ludwik Szczepański], “Dreyfusiada,” poetry 60: Correspondence from the editors

Vol. 2, no. 6 (5 February 1898) 61: Josef Václav Myslbek, title vignette 61: Announcement of sonnet contest winner – Kazimierz Tetmajer 61: Kazimierz Tetmajer, from the sonnet cycle “Stars” (“Z cyklu sonetów “Gwiazdy”), poetry 61: Or-Ot [Artur Oppman], “Elstera,” poetry 61: Stanisław Pieńkowski, “Veni,” poetry 61: Konstanty Laszczka, Fainting (W omdleniu) [photograph of sculpture] 62: Wacław Wolski, “Augurs” (“Augurzy”) and “Vision” (“Wizya”), poetry 62: Maryan Zbrowski, “Pearl” (“Perła”), poetry 62: Bolesław Leśmian, “Sonnet,” poetry 62-63: Artur Górski, “The False [Regulation?] about Morality” (“Fałszywa fasya moralności”), essay 63: vignette [artist not identified] 63-64: Maria Mikiewiczowa, “Vision” (“Wizya”), poetry

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63: Władysław Sterling, “Prayer” (“Modlitwa”), “The Apple Tree” (“Jabłoń”) and “Willow” (“Wierzba”), poetry 63: Orwid [Gustaw Daniłowski], “The Helots” (“Heloci”), poetry 64: Anna Limprechtówna, “Sonnet,” poetry 64-65: Romualda Baudoin de Courtenay, “In the Current Moment” (“W chwili obecnej”), essay (correspondence) 64: Władysław Nawrocki, “On the Wave of Memory” (“Na fali wspomnień”), poetry 64: Jan Gorecki, “Sonnet,” poetry 64: Stanisław Barącz, “Rain” (“Słota”), poetry 64: Bronisław Grabowski, “Advice” (“Rada”), poetry 65-66: Jan Lorentowicz, “Young France: Octave Mirbeau” (“Młoda Francya: Oktawiusz Mirbeau”), essay 66: Konstanty Laszczka, The Abandoned One (Opuszczony) [photograph of sculpture] 65: Ludwik Wilczyński, “Doubt” (“Zwątpienie”), poetry 65: Wacław Wolski, “Sonnet,” poetry 65: Teofil Terlecki, vignette 66-67: Adam Cybulski, “On Young Vienna Literature: Arthur Schnitzler” (“Z literatury młodo-wiedeńskiej: Artur Schnitzler”), essay 67: Jerzy Żuławski, “Michelangelo,” poetry 67-68: Włodzimierz Bugiel, “Exhibition on Anotni Chintreuil” (“Wystawa Antoniego Chintreuila”), review (correspondence) 67: Konstanty Laszczka, Winter (Zima), [photograph of sculpture] 68-69: Δ, “Letters from Lwów” (“Listy lwowskie”), essay (correspondence) 68-69: Gabryela Zapolska, “The Anti-Semite” (“Antysemitnik”), prose 69: “Review of reviews” (“Przegląd przeglądów”) – Zlatá Praha, Svetozorze, Rozhledy, Moderni revue 70: “Books” (“Książki”), review – Zenon Pietkiewicz’s Social Sketches (Szkice społeczne); M. Zdziechowski’s Byron and His Age (Byron i jego wiek) 70: “Chronicle” (“Kronika”) – brief notes and announcements about Dreyfus affair, new publications, new art, events, next issue 70: photograph of K. Bednarzewska 71: information about the recent sonnet and novella contests 71: vignette [artist not identified] 71-72: L[udwik] S[zczepański], “Krakow Theater” (“Teatr krakowski”), review 71: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 72: “Echoes” (“Echa”) – brief notes and letters 72: Edmund Cieczkiewicz, The Nymph and the Monster (Rusałka i potwór) [reproduction] 72: photograph of K. Zawadzki 72: information about illustrations in current issue 72: Correspondence from the editors

Vol. 2, no. 7 (12 February 1898) 73: A. Markowicz, title vignette 73: Paul Verlaine, “Carnival” (“Karnawał”), poetry, Ludwik Szczepański (trans.) 73-74: Artur Góski, “Eliza Orzeszkowa,” essay

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74: vignette [artist not identified] 74: Włodzimierz Perzyński, “A Song about the Eyes” (“Pieśń o oczach”), poetry 75: Miriam [Zenon Przesmycki], “From Swiss Sonnets” (“Z sonetów szwajcarskich”), poetry 75: Photograph of Zenon Przesmycki 75-76: Adam Cybulski, “On Young Vienna Literature: Peter Altenberg” (“Z literatury młodo-wiedeńskiej: Piotr Altenberg”), essay 75-76: Peter Alternberg, “The Flying Dutchman” (“Latający Holender”), prose, A.P. (trans.) 76: Teofil Terlecki, vignette 76-77: Oscar Wilde, “The Critic as Artist” from Intentions (“Krytyk jako Artysta”), prose, R.W. (trans.) 77: Jerzy Żuławski, “Lucifer’s Fall” (“Upadek Lucyfera”), poetry 77: vignette [artist not identified] 77-79: Marya Komornicka, “In the Mountains” (“W górach”), prose 78-79: Julian Gertler, “In Defense of Legal Clerks” (“W obronie koncypientów adwokackich”), essay 78: Michał Elwiro Andriolli, Jankiel’s Concert (Koncert Jankiela) [reproduction] 79: XYZ [Antoni Zalewski], “The State of Polish Theater in Warsaw” (“Stan teatru polskiego w Warszawie”), essay 79: Michał Niestierow, St. Olga, [reproduction of drawing] 80: Jerzy Płoński, “From the Thames” (“Z nad Tamizy”), correspondence 80: Filip Eisenberg, “Psyche dolorosa,” poetry 80-81: Karol Bicz [Ludwik Szczepański], “From Vienna” (“Z Wiednia”), essay 80-82: Gabryela Zapolska, “The Anti-Semite” (“Antysemitnik”), prose 81-82: Δ, “Letters from Lwów” (“Listy lwowskie”), essay (correspondence) 82-83: Ludwik Szczepański, “Krakow Theater” (“Teatr krakowski”), review 83: “Chronicle” (“Kronika”) – brief notes and announcements about TZSP contest, new publications, Gawalewicz stepping down as editor of Tygodnik ilustrowany, new art, theater 83: about the novella contest 84: “Echoes” (“Echa”) – brief notes and letters 84: letter about carnival dance

Vol. 2, no. 8 (19 February 1898) 85: Ephraim Moses Lilien, title vignette 85: Kazimierz Tetmajer, “The Maritime Silence” (“Cisza morska”), poetry 85-86: anonymous, “Bursze,” essay 86: Bolesław Lutomski, “Petersburg’s Poles” (“Polacy petersburscy”), essay 86: vignette [artist not identified] 86-87: Michał Janik, “On the Genesis of Kornel Ujejski’s Works” (“O genezie twórczości Kornela Ujejskiego”), essay 87: Jerzy Żuławski, “In Winter” (“W zimie”) and “Naiads” (“Najady”), poetry 87-88: Oscar Wilde, “The Critic as Artist” from Intentions (“Krytyk jako Artysta”), prose, R.W. (trans.) 87-90: J.K. Huysmanns, “Dilemma” (“Dylemat”), prose, M. (trans.)

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88-91: S.R. Landau, “New Ghetto” (“Nowe ghetto”), essay 90: Kacper Żelechowski, Fright (Strach) [reproduction] 91: Maciej Szukiewicz, excerpt from the poem “Wadha” (wyjątek z poematu “Wadha”), poetry 91-92: XYZ [Antoni Zalewski], (“Stan teatru polskiego w Warszawie”), essay 91: Kacper Żelechowski, The Drowned One (Topielczyk) [reproduction] 92: Emile Verhaeren, “Departure” (“Odjazd”), poetry, A[ntoni] Lange (trans.) 92-93: Jerzy Płoński, “From the Thames” (“Z nad Tamizy”), correspondence 93-94: Δ, “Letters from Lwów” (“Listy lwowskie”), essay (correspondence) 94: “Books” (“Książki”), review – Maria Konopnicka’s People and Things (Ludzie i rzeczy); Jan Baudouin de Courtenay’s The Small Censorial Matters (Drobiazgi cenzuralne); Jan Czubek’s translations of poems by Catullus, illustrated by Kazimierz Tetmajer; M. Gawalewicz’s Butterfly (Motyl), Philemon i Baucis, The Last Tryst (Ostatnia szchadzka), The Teacup (Filiżanka), and Prologue; Arwor’s On the Stock Exchange of Virtue (Na giełdzie cnoty); Kazimierz Nagora’s Son of Freedom (Syn Wolności) 94: Ludwik Szczepański, “Krakow Theater” (“Teatr krakowski”), review 95: Bruno Bl., “From Lwów: On Music” (“Ze Lwowa: Z muzyki”), review 95: “Chronicle” (“Kronika”) – brief notes and announcements about upcoming issue, Zola, performances, new publications, death of Kurzawa, Poles in Paris 95: “Echoes” (“Echa”) – brief notes and letters 96: Correspondence from the editors 96: n., “The Pauls Request...” (“Państwo Pawłowie proszą…”), essay

Vol. 2, no. 9 (26 February 1898) 97: Antoni Stanisław Procajłowicz, title vignette 97: editorial statement, “On the Matter of the Novella Contest” (“W sprawie konkursu na nowelę”), essay 97-98: Ludwik Szczepański, “National Art” (“Sztuka narodowa”), essay 98: Bogusław Adamowicz, “The Bind Singer” (“Ślepy śpiewak”), poetry 98: drawing [reproduction] from the “Sztuka” catalogue 98, 100: Michał Janik, “On the Genesis of Kornel Ujejski’s Works” (“O genezie twórczości Kornela Ujejskiego”), essay 100: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 99: photograph (reproduction) of Cyprian Godębski’s studio in Carrara 99-101: unidentified author (from novella contest), fragment from “Mister” (“Pan”), prose 101: Roman Lewandowski, “Antoni Kurzawa,” essay 101-103: B. [Iza Moszczeńska], “Zola’s ‘Paris’” (“‘Paryż’ Zoli”), essay 102: Kacper Żelechowski, Shepherdess (Pastuszka), [reproduction] 102-104: unidentified author (from novella contest), “Caprice” (“Kaprys”), prose 103: Bruno Bl., “Livia Quintilla,” review 104: Kazimierz Filip Wize, “Richard Wagner,” poetry 104-105: XYZ [Antoni Zalewski], “The State of Polish Theater in Warsaw” (“Stan teatru polskiego w Warszawie”), essay 104-106: unidentified author (from novella contest), “Blood” (“Krew”), prose

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105: W.G., “The Good Idea” (“Dobra myśl”), essay 106-107: Δ, “Letters from Lwów” (“Listy lwowskie”), essay (correspondence) 106: photograph (reproduction) of Teresa Arklowa 106-108: unidentified author (from novella contest), “From Madness” (“Z obłąkań”), prose 108: Teofil Terlecki, vignette 107: editorial statement about novella contest and brief reviews of novellas sent 107-108: “Books” (“Książki”), review – M.H. Dziewicki’s Entombed in Flesh 108: “Chronicle” (“Kronika”) – brief notes and announcements about upcoming issue, Zola, new publications, brief letters, Godębski’s statue of Mickiewicz 108: Włodzimierz Perzyński, “Credo,” poetry 108: “Echoes” (“Echa”) – brief notes and letters 108: Correspondence from the editors

Vol. 2, no. 10 (5 March 1898) 109: Julian Fałat, title vignette 109: Adam Szymański, “Roadsigns” (“Drogowskazy”), poetry 109-110: Ludwik Szczepański, “National Art” (“Sztuka narodowa”), essay 110: Jan Stanisławski, The Storm (Burza), vignette; vignette [artist not identified] 110: Adam Łada [Cybulski], “Reconciliation” (“Pojednanie”), poetry 110: Teofil Terlecki, vignette 110-112: Bolesław Lutomski, “Włodzimierz Spasowicz,” essay 111: photograph of Josef Václav Myslbek’s Caryatids sculptures 111-113: J.K. Huysmanns, “Dilemma” (“Dylemat”), prose, M. (trans.) 112-113: Michał Janik, “On the Genesis of Kornel Ujejski’s Works” (“O genezie twórczości Kornela Ujejskiego”), essay 113-114: Oscar Wilde, “The Critic as Artist” from Intentions (“Krytyk jako Artysta”), prose, R.W. (trans.) 114: vignette [artist not identified] 114: photograph of Josef Václav Myslbek, Caryatids sculpture, detail 115: Franciszek Mirandolla, “From the Upanishads” (“Z Upanishad”) and “Soma’s Offering” (“Ofiara Somy”), poetry 115-116: Δ, “Letters from Lwów” (“Listy lwowskie”), essay (correspondence) 115: photograph of Josef Václav Myslbek, Caryatids sculpture, detail; 116: Józef Józef Mehoffer, drawing (reproduction) from the “Sztuka” catalogue 116-117: Henri François de Régnier, “Inscriptions of the City Gates” (“Napisy na bramach miasta”), poetry 117: Leon Wyczółkowski, drawing (reproduction) of Jacek Malczewski from the “Sztuka” catalogue 116-118: Gabryela Zapolska, “The Anti-Semite” (“Antysemitnik”), prose 117-118: Ludwik Szczepański, “Krakow Theater” (“Teatr krakowski”), review 118: Józef Pankiewicz, The Palace among Trees (Pałac wśród drzew), [reproduction of etching] 118-119: Artur Górski, “To the Seine!” (“Do Sekwany!”), essay 119: Teodor Axentowicz, drawing (reproduction) from the “Sztuka” catalogue 119: Sdl., “Russian Progressive Views” (“Rossyjskie przeglądy postępowe”), essay

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119: “Books” (“Książki”), review – Piotr Chmielowski’s Józef Korzeniowski: Biographical Outline (Zarys biograficzny) 119-120: “Chronicle” (“Kronika”) – brief notes and announcements about Lwów’s music, performances, new publications, letter from Jerzy Żuławski 120: Józef Mehoffer, drawing (reproduction) from the “Sztuka” catalogue 120: “Echoes” (“Echa”) – brief notes and letters 120: Correspondence from the editors

Vol. 2, no. 11 (12 March 1898) 121: Antoni Kurzawa, Genius Breaking the Fetters (Geniusz zrywający pęta), sculpture 122: Kazimierz Przerwa-Tetmajer, “Introduction [to Stanisław Przybyszewski’s “Epipsychidion”] (“Przedmowa”), essay 122-124: Stanisław Przybyszewski “Epipsychidion,” prose 122: vignette [artist not identified] 123: Anna Costenoble, Stanisław Przybyszewski [reproduction] 125-126: Józef Maskoff [Gabriela Zapolska], “That One’” (“Tamten”), play 126: Stanisław Wyspiański, drawing of Antoni Kurzawa’s sculpture Wisła and Wawel 126-127: Włodzimierz Perzyński, “Uajali” and “To the Dreamed of [Woman]” (“Wyśnionej”), poetry 127-128: Bolesław Lutomski, “Włodzimierz Spasowicz,” essay 127: Antoni Kurzawa, Mickiewicz, [photograph of sculpture] 127-129: J.K. Huysmanns, “Dilemma” (“Dylemat”), prose, M. (trans.) 128: Albert Samain, “Visions” (“Wizye”) and “Nuit Blanche,” poetry, Kazimiera Zawistowska (trans.) 129-130: Δ, “Letters from Lwów” (“Listy lwowskie”), essay (correspondence) 130: Jean Richepin, “The Florentine” (“Florentyńczyk”) and “Racławice,” poetry, Jerzy Żuławski (trans.) 130: Teodor Axentowicz, vignette 130-131: A[rtur] G[órski], “The Young and the Pedagogues” (“Młodzież a pedagodzy”), essay 130: Leon Wyczółkowski, Antoni Kurzawa [reproduction of 1895 painting] 131-132: Ludwik Szczepański and Maciej Szukiewicz, “Krakow Theater” (“Teatr krakowski”), review 132: “On the Sculptures of Antoni Kurzawa” 132: announcement of novella contest winner (Kazimierz Tetmajer) 132: “Chronicle” (“Kronika”) – brief notes and announcements about new publications and exhibitions Insert: “Echoes” (“Echa”) – brief notes and letters

Vol. 2, no. 12 (19 March 1898) 133: Bolesław Nitecki, title vignette 133: Kazimierz Przerwa-Tetmajer, from the cycle “Stars” (z cyklu “Gwiazdy”), poetry 133-134: Artur Górski, “Henrik Ibsen,” prose 134: Wacław Wolski, “Foggy Evening” (“Mglisty wieczór”), poetry 134-136: Henrik Ibsen, “The Enemy of the People” (“Wróg ludu”), play 135: Michał Niestierow, St. Barbara, [reproduction]

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135-137: J.K. Huysmanns, “Dilemma” (“Dylemat”), prose, M. (trans.) 136-137: Michał Janik, “On the Genesis of Kornel Ujejski’s Works” (“O genezie twórczości Kornela Ujejskiego”), essay 138: Oscar Wilde, “The Critic as Artist” from Intentions (“Krytyk jako Artysta”), prose, R.W. (trans.) 138: Stanisław Wyspiański, The Pensive Woman (Zadumana) [reproduction] 138: Kazimiera Zawistowska, “Your Soul” (“Twoja dusza”), poetry 139: Ludwik Szczepański, “Ibsen in Galicia,” essay 139: Szylkret [Kazimierz Tetmajer], “The Patriot” (“Patryota”), poetry 139: Władysław Nowak, Rebel (Buntownik) [reproduction] 140: E.M. Doherr, from “Sonnets,” poetry, K[azimiera] Zawistowska (trans.) 140: Peter Altenberg, “Marriage” [from “Paulina”] (“Małżeństwo”) and “Events of the Hundredth Day” (“Wydarzenie setnego dnia”), prose, A.R. (trans.) 140: M[aria] Mickiewiczowa, “Flame – for Stanisław Wyspiański’s Fantasy” (“Płomień” – do fantazy St. Wyspiańskiego), poetry 140-141: Kazimierz Tetmajer, “On Young Polish Poetry” (“O młodą poezyę polską”), essay 141: vignette [artist not identified] 140-142: Gabryela Zapolska, “The Anti-Semite” (“Antysemitnik”), prose 141: M[aria] Mickiewiczowa, “Ex epistola St. Pauli ad Corinthos I. XIII.,” poetry 141-142: Δ, “Letters from Lwów” (“Listy lwowskie”), essay (correspondence) 142: photograph of programs for the Artistic Banquet organized by Krakow’s School of Fine Arts students (Programy na Raut artystyczny urządzony przez uczniów Szkoły sztuk pięknych w Krakowie) 142-143: Włodzimierz Perzyński, “The Oath” (“Przysięga”), poetry 143: “Chronicle” (“Kronika”) – brief notes and announcements about Krakow theater, article by Bolesław Prus 143: “Books” (“Książki”), review – Eliza Orzeszkowa’s Sparks (Iskry); Zygmunt Gargas’s Economic View in 17th-century Poland (Poglądy ekonomiczne w Polsce XVII wieku) 143: Bob., “Only Secrets!” (“Same tajemnice!”), prose 143: W.G. “Between Earth and Heaven” (“Między ziemią a niebem”), prose 144: “Echoes” (“Echa”) – brief notes and letters 144: Correspondence from the editors

Vol. 2, no. 13 (26 March 1898) 145: Bolesław Nitecki, title vignette 145: Józef Wierzbicki, “The Spirit of God” (“Duch Boży”), poetry 145: editorial statement, “From the Editors” (“Od redakcyi”), essay 145: Jerzy Żuławski, “1848,” poetry 133: vignette [artist not identified] 146: B., “Discrediting Obstructions” (“Dyskredytowanie obstrukcyi”), essay 146: Włodzimierz Perzyński, “Dream” (“Sen”), poetry 146-147: Zofia Daszyńska, “On the Secrets of the Contemporary Soul” (“Z tajników duszy współczesnej”), essay 147: Włodzimierz Perzyński, “Warsaw,” poetry

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147-149: J.K. Huysmanns, “Dilemma” (“Dylemat”), prose, M. (trans.) 147-148: P., “What Do the People Read and Why?” (“Co lud czyta i dlaczego?”), essay 148-150: Edouard Rod, “Heinrich Heine,” essay, Józ. K. (trans.) 150: Anna Costenoble, Study [reproduction of drawing] 150-151: Oscar Wilde, “The Critic as Artist” from Intentions (“Krytyk jako Artysta”), prose, R.W. (trans.) 150-152: Gabryela Zapolska, “The Anti-Semite” (“Antysemitnik”), prose 151-152: Otokar Březina, “Moments of Change” (“Chwile przełomu”), essay, M.S. (trans.) 152: Jerzy Żuławski, “The Queen” (“Królowa”), poetry 152-153: XYZ [Antoni Zalewski], “The State of Polish Theater in Warsaw” (“Stan teatru polskiego w Warszawie”), essay 153-154: Emile Verhaeren, “The Ropemaker” (“Powroźnik”) from the “Villages illusoires,” poetry, A[ntoni] Lange (trans.) 154: Δ, “Letters from Lwów” (“Listy lwowskie”), essay (correspondence) 154-155: Ludwik Szczepański, “Krakow Theater” (“Teatr krakowski”), review 155: “Books” (“Książki”), review – Father Stojałowski in the Light of His Own Words and Letters (Ksiądz Stojałowski w świetle swoich własnych słów i listów) 155-156: “Chronicle” (“Kronika”) – brief notes and announcements about letter from J. Baudouin de Courtenay, new exhibition 155-156: “Before Our Forum” (“Przed forum naszem”), correspondence 156: “Echoes” (“Echa”) – brief notes and letters 156: Correspondence from the editors

Vol. 2, no. 14 (2 April 1898) 157: Bolesław Nitecki, title vignette 157: Juliusz Słowacki, untitled fragment from “Dantyszek’s Poem on Hell” (“Poema Dantyszka o piekle”), poetry 157: Artur Górski, “Juliusz Słowacki,” essay 158: editorial statement, “From the Editors” (“Od redakcyi”), essay 158: Artur Górski, “Matejko and the Matejko House” (“Matejko i Dom Matejki”), essay 158: F[raniciszek] Mirandolla, “Nocturne,” poetry 159-160: Zofia Daszyńska, “On the Secrets of the Contemporary Soul” (“Z tajników duszy współczesnej”), essay 159: photograph of Henrik Ibsen (11.8.97) 159-161: J.K. Huysmanns, “Dilemma” (“Dylemat”), prose, M. (trans.) 160: Włodzimierz Perzyński, “Plein-air”; “The Vision” (“Wizya”); “On the Snow” (“Na śniegu”), poetry 161-163: Jan Baudouin de Courtenay, “Before the Foreign Forum” (“Przed forum obcych”) and “Additional Explanation” (“Wyjaśnienie dodatkowe”), essay 163: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 162: A. Wesner, The Guard (Straż) [reproduction] 163: Charles Marie Leconte de Lisle, “From the Lunar Fragrances” (“Z księżycowych woni”), poetry, A. (trans.) 163-164: Revera, “Klemens Junosza,” essay 163-165: Mirosław O. Gajewski, “Wojciech the Guard” (“Stróż Wojciech”), prose

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165: Roman Lewandowski, “The Vienna Secession” (“Wiedeńska Secesya”), essay 165: Δ, “Letters from Lwów” (“Listy lwowskie”), essay (correspondence) 165-166: L[udwik] S[zczepański], “Krakow Theater” (“Teatr krakowski”), review 166: XYZ [Antoni Zalewski], “The State of Polish Theater in Warsaw” (“Stan teatru polskiego w Warszawie”), essay 166: “Books” (“Książki”), review – Izydor Kuncewicz’s In the Woods (W lesie) 166-167: Gabryela Zapolska, “The Anti-Semite” (“Antysemitnik”), prose 167: “Review of reviews” (“Przegląd przeglądów”) – Przegląd literacki 167-168: “Echoes” (“Echa”) – brief notes and letters 168: information about illustrations in current issue 168: vignette [artist not identified] 168: Correspondence from the editors

Vol. 2, no. 15 (9 April 1898) 169: Bolesław Nitecki, title vignette 169: Ludwik Szczepański, “April Night” (“Noc kwietniowa”), poetry 169: [author not identified], “The Great Day” (“Wielki dzień”), prose 169-170: Jerzy Żuławski, “There are secrets [mysteries]…” (“Są tajemnice...”), poetry 170: Quasimodo [Artur Górski], “Young Poland” (“Młoda Polska”), essay 170: vignette [artist not identified] 170-171: Iza Moszczeńska, “Patriotism and Morality Here [in fomer Poland]” (“Patryotyzm i moralność u nas”), essay 171: Wojciech Wachsmann, Madonna [reproduction of stained glass design] 171: Filip Eisenberg, “A Landscape from the Soul” (“Krajobraz z duszy”), poetry 171-173: J.K. Huysmanns, “Dilemma” (“Dylemat”), prose, M. (trans.) 172-173: X, “Our Neoconservatives” (“Nasi neokonserwatyści”), essay 173: Jerzy Żuławski, “The Fiery River” (“Ognista rzeka”), poetry 173: Teodor Axentowicz, vignette 173-174: Roman Lewandowski, “The Vienna Secession” (“Wiedeńska Secesya”), essay 174-175: Tomasz Czaszka [Tadeusz Rittner], “In Vienna in Spring” (“We Wiedniu wiosną”), prose 174: Olga Boznańska, Study [reproduction] 175: Adam Łada [Cybulski], “Fable” (“Baśń”), poetry 175-176: Δ, “Letters from Lwów” (“Listy lwowskie”), essay (correspondence) 176: vignette [artist not identified] 175-177: Gabryela Zapolska, “The Anti-Semite” (“Antysemitnik”), prose 176: Adam M-ski [Zofia Trzeszczkowska], “From a Distance” (“Z daleka”), poetry 176-177: “Books” (“Książki”), review – Piotr Chmielowski’s Zygmunt Kaczkowski 177: Filip Eisenberg, “From Doubts” (“Ze zwątpień”), poetry 177-178: “Chronicle” (“Kronika”) – brief notes and announcements about new publication; letter from Kazimierz Tetmajer and Jerzy Żuławski 178: Quis, “Szczepanik in Krakow” (“Szczepanik w Krakowie”), prose 178-179: “Echoes” (“Echa”) – brief notes and letters 179: Wincenty Ogórek [Ludwik Szczepański], “The Lent Lament” (“Lament Wielkopostny”), poetry 180: advertisements

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Vol. 2, no. 16 (16 April 1898) 181: Bolesław Nitecki, title vignette 181-182: Quasimodo [Artur Górski], “Young Poland” (“Młoda Polska”), essay 170: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 182-183: X, “Our Neoconservatives” (“Nasi neokonserwatyści”), essay 183: Filip Eisenberg, “I don’t know why” (“Nie wiem, dlaczego”), poetry 183-186: J.K. Huysmanns, “Dilemma” (“Dylemat”), prose, M. (trans.) 186: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 184-185: Iza Moszczeńska, “Patriotism and Morality Here [in fomer Poland]” (“Patryotyzm i moralność u nas”), essay 185: Filip Eisenberg, “Blessed Be!” (“Bądź błogosławiona!”), poetry 185-186: Oscar Wilde, “The Critic as Artist” from Intentions (“Krytyk jako Artysta”), prose, R.W. (trans.) 186: Richard Dehmel, “The Sovereign and His Consort” (“Władca i władczyni”) from “Lebensblätter,” poetry, Filip Eisenberg (trans.) 186: Tomasz Czaszka [Tadeusz Rittner], “Easter on the Danube” (“Wielkanoc nad Dunajem”), essay 187: Roman Lewandowski, “The Vienna Secession” (“Wiedeńska Secesya”), essay 187: Teodor Axentowicz, vignette 187-188: XYZ [Antoni Zalewski], “The State of Polish Theater in Warsaw” (“Stan teatru polskiego w Warszawie”), essay 188: vignette [artist not identified] 187-188: Gabryela Zapolska, “The Anti-Semite” (“Antysemitnik”), prose 188-189: Ludwik Szczepański, “Krakow Theater” (“Teatr krakowski”), review 189: “Books” (“Książki”), review – Józef Flach’s Studies on Contemporary German Drama (Studya nad współczesnym dramatem niemieckim) 189: photograph of Maciej Szukiewicz 189: “Chronicle” (“Kronika”) – brief notes and announcements about letters from Lwów, photograph in current issue, Stanisław Przybyszewski, events and publications 189-190: a.n. [Adolf Nowaczyński], “The Disinfection Movement” (“Prąd dezynfekcyny”), essay 190: vignette [artist not identified] 189-190: Przyjaciel [Adolf Nowaczyński], “Old Poland Easter Meal” (“Staropolskie święcone”), prose 190: Włodzimierz Perzyński, “Song” (“Piosenka”), poetry 190: s., “How Should One Play Ibsen?” (“Jak należy grać Ibsena?”), essay 191: Correspondence from the editors 191-192: advertisements

Vol. 2, no. 17 (23 April 1898) 193: Bolesław Nitecki, title vignette 193: Jerzy Żuławski, “From the Yajur Veda” (“Z Jadżur Wedy”), poetry 193-194: Artur Górski, “The Matejko House” (“Dom Matejki”), essay 194: reproduction of drawing [artist not identified]

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194: Iza Moszczeńska, “Patriotism and Morality Here [in fomer Poland]” (“Patryotyzm i moralność u nas”), essay 195-196: X, “Our Neoconservatives” (“Nasi neokonserwatyści”), essay 195-198: Edgar Allan Poe, “Morella,” prose, Lk [Stanisław Lack] (trans.) 196: Francis Viélé-Griffin, “Małgorzata,” poetry, Antoni Lange (trans.) 197: Oscar Wilde, “The Critic as Artist” from Intentions (“Krytyk jako Artysta”), prose, R.W. (trans.) 197: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 198: Selim [Władysław Bukowiński], “Fragment,” poetry 198: Roman Lewandowski, “The Vienna Secession” (“Wiedeńska Secesya”), essay 198: Henryk Czerniewski, “The Lily” (“Lilia”), poetry 199: Tomasz Czaszka [Tadeusz Rittner], “From Vienna” (“Z Wiednia”), essay (correspondence) 199-200: Albert Samain, from “L’allée solitaire,” poetry, Kazimiera Zawistowska (trans.) 200: Teodor Axentowicz, vignette 199-200: M.H., “The Madman” (“Waryat”), prose 200-201: Felicya Nossig Prochnik, “Letter from Paris” (“List paryzki”), essay (correspondence) 201-202: Δ, “Letters from Lwów” (“Listy lwowskie”), essay (correspondence) 201-202: Tomasz Czaszka [Tadeusz Rittner], “Muc,” prose 202: “Review of reviews” (“Przegląd przeglądów”) – Mercure de France, Revue blanche 202-203: Ludwik Szczepański, “Krakow Theater” (“Teatr krakowski”), review 203: “Books” (“Książki”), review – Prosper Mérimée’s Mosaic (Mozajka) 203: “Chronicle” (“Kronika”) – brief notes and announcements about jubilee in Vienna 203: vignette [artist not identified] 203: Correspondence from the editors 204: advertisements

Vol. 2, no. 18 (30 April 1898) 205: Józef Czajkowski, title vignette 205: Jerzy Żuławski, “Introibo,” poetry 206: Andrzej Niemojewski, “Revelry” (“Hulanka”), poetry 206: Quasimodo [Artur Górski], “Young Poland” (“Młoda Polska”), essay 206: drawing [artist not identified]; 206: Antoni Stanisław Procajłowicz, vignette 206, 208-209: Artur Górski, “The Matejko House” (“Dom Matejki”), essay 207: Józef Brandt, To the Hunt (Na polowanie), painting 207-209: Gabryela Zapolska, “The Anti-Semite” (“Antysemitnik”), prose 207: vignette [artist not identified] 209: Franiciszek Mirandolla, “Fog over the Sea” (“Mgła nad morzem”), poetry 209-210: Otto Erich Hartleben, “Moral Postulate” (“Postulat moralny”), play 210: K.Z. Wellner, Nocturne, vignette 210-211: Wojciech Szukiewicz, “‘The Fourth Polish District?’ – A Word of Truth of the Polish Colony in America” (“‘Czwarta dzielnica’ polska?” – Słowo prawdy o kolonii Polskiej w Ameryce”), essay 211: Feliks Wygrzywalski, The Bat (Nietoperz), drawing

276

211-212: XYZ [Antoni Zalewski], “The State of Polish Theater in Warsaw” (“Stan teatru polskiego w Warszawie”), essay 212: Tomasz Czaszka [Tadeusz Rittner], “Vienna – senatus populusque,” essay 212-213: Δ, “Letters from Lwów” (“Listy lwowskie”), essay (correspondence) 213-214: Alfred W[ysocki], “From Zakopane” (“Z Zakopanego”), essay 214: Ludwik Szczepański, “Krakow Theater” (“Teatr krakowski”), review 214: Bolesław Nitecki, “‘Morality’ vs. an Exhibition of Paintings in Krakow” (“‘Moralność’ a Wystawa obrazów w Krakowie”), correspondence 214: “Chronicle” (“Kronika”) – brief notes and announcements about new publications, letter from Roman Lewandowski 215-216: advertisements

Vol. 2, no. 19 (7 May 1898) 217: Bolesław Nitecki, title vignette 217-218: Quasimodo [Artur Górski], “Young Poland” (“Młoda Polska”), essay 218: Stanisław Zdziarski, “Eolion and Orcio,” prose 219: Wojciech Szukiewicz, “‘The Fourth Polish District?’ – A Word of Truth of the Polish Colony in America” (“‘Czwarta dzielnica’ polska?” – Słowo prawdy o kolonii Polskiej w Ameryce”), essay 219: K.Z. Wellner, Nocturne, vignette 219: Jerzy Żuławski, “Like Dante...” (“Jak Dant…”), poetry 219-221: Otto Erich Hartleben, “Moral Postulate” (“Postulat moralny”), play 220-223: Gabryela Zapolska, “The Anti-Semite” (“Antysemitnik”), prose 221-223: Δ, “Letters from Lwów” (“Listy lwowskie”), essay (correspondence) 222: Józef Czajkowski, vignette 223: Anotni Lange, “Hashish” (“Haszysz”), poetry 223: vignette (artist?) 223: Adolf Stand, “Social Aphorisms” (“Aforyzmy społeczne”), prose 223: Włodzimierz Perzyński, “Vox mystica,” poetry 224: Seweryn Berson, “Lwów Opera in Krakow” (“Opera lwowska w Krakowie”), essay 224: Teodor Axentowicz, vignette 224: Adolf Stand, “Social Aphorisms” (“Aforyzmy społeczne”), prose 224-225: Władysław Orkan, “Little Hell” (“Piekiełko”), prose 225: “Chronicle” (“Kronika”) – brief notes and announcements about new publications, theater, poem by Zygmunt Krasiński 225-226: “Echoes” (“Echa”) – brief notes and letters 226: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignettes 226: Correspondence from the editors 227-228: advertisements

Vol. 2, no. 20 (14 May 1898) Cover: Marian Trzebiński 229: Bolesław Nitecki, title vignette 229-230: Zofia Daszyńska, “Politics as a Social Factor” (“Polityka jako czynnik społeczny”), essay 230: Jerzy Żuławski, “Recollections from the Alps” (“Wspomnienia z Alp”), poetry

277

230: Antoni Stanisław Procajłowicz, vignette; Karel Hlavaček, vignette 231-232: Arvede Barine, “Marriage Endangered: Women’s Complaints” (“Małżeństwo w niebezpieczeństwie: Skargi kobiece”), prose 231, 232: Karel Hlavaček, vignettes 231-232: Peter Alternberg, “By the Lake” (“Nad Jeziorem”) and “The Lecturer” (“Prelegent”) 232: Teodor Axentowicz, vignette 232: Kazimierz Tetmajer, “The Discovery Ship” (“Statek odkrywczy”), poetry 232-233: Wojciech Szukiewicz, “Americans on Poland” (“Amerykanie o Polsce”), essay 233: Karel Hlavaček, vignettes 233: Władysłąw Orkan, “Once upon a Time…” (“Onego czasu…”), poetry 233-234: Oscar Wilde, “The Critic as Artist” from Intentions (“Krytyk jako Artysta”), prose, R.W. (trans.) 234: Antoni Stanisław Procajłowicz, vignette; Karel Hlavaček, vignette 233-234: Max Hirschfield, “Reformator,” prose 235-236: Sigbjörn Obstfelder, “The Red Drops” (“Czerwone krople”), play, Józefa Klemensiewiczowa (trans.) 235: Karel Hlavaček, vignettes; 236: vignette [artist not identified] 236: Włodzimierz Perzyński, “The Alley” (“Zaułek”), poetry 236-237: XYZ [Antoni Zalewski], “The State of Polish Theater in Warsaw” (“Stan teatru polskiego w Warszawie”), essay 237: Li-Taj-Po, “On the Road” (“W drodze”), poetry, L[udwik] Sz[czepański] (trans.) 237: Karel Hlavaček, vignette 237-238: Δ, “Letters from Lwów” (“Listy lwowskie”), essay (correspondence) 238: Z.M., “Sadness” (“Smutek”), poetry 238: Seweryn Berson, “Lwów Opera in Krakow” (“Opera lwowska w Krakowie”), essay 238-239: “Chronicle” (“Kronika”) – brief notes and announcements about readings, theater, new publications, letter from Lwów, eulogy for Ryszard Ruszkowski 239-240: “Echoes” (“Echa”) – brief notes and letters 240: Correspondence from the editors

Vol. 2, no. 21 (21 May 1898) Cover: Marian Trzebiński 241: Bolesław Nitecki, title vignette 241: Jerzy Żuławski, “And the Angel Descended into the Grave ….” (“I zstąpił anioł do grobu...”), poetry 241-242: Zofia Daszyńska, “Politics as a Social Factor” (“Polityka jako czynnik społeczny”), essay 242: Jerzy Żuławski, “Baruch Spinoza,” poetry 242-243: L-k: “Stanisław Przybyszewski’s ‘Homo Sapiens’” (“‘Homo Sapiens’ Stanisława Przybyszewskiego”), essay 243: Karel Hlavaček, vignette 243-244: anonymous, “The Real Ibsen” (“Prawdziwy Ibsen”), essay, Wojciech Szukiewicz (trans.) 244: Zdzisław Dębicki, “I Am Going” (“Idę…”), poetry 244-245: W[ihelm] F[eldman], “Nietzsche,” essay

278

245-246: Gabryela Zapolska, “Jojne Firulkes,” play 245, 246: Karel Hlavaček, vignettes 246: zd., “Questionaire on the Matter of Female Workers in Lwów” (“Ankieta w sprawie robotnic we Lwowie”), essay 246: Józef Stanisław Wierzbicki, “In the Cave of Sorrows near Diwenau” (“W jaskini Żalów pod Dziwnowem (Diwenau)”), poetry 247: Ludwik Szczepański, “Krakow Theater” (“Teatr krakowski”), review 247: Teofil Terlecki, vignette 247-249: Δ, “Letters from Lwów” (“Listy lwowskie”), essay (correspondence) 248-249: Ostap Ortwin, “Park,” prose 249: Teofil Terlecki, vignette 249: Alfred Wysocki, “From Zakopane” (“Z Zakopanego”), essay 249: Adolf Stand, “Social Aphorisms” (“Aforyzmy społeczne”), prose 249: Percy Bysse Shelley, “The Magnetic Woman to her Medium” (“Magnetyzująca kobieta do swego medyum”), prose 249-250: “Review of reviews” (“Przegląd przeglądów”) – Przegląd powszechny, Revue des revues 250: M. Plebs., “Woe to the Woman!” (“Biada kobiecie!”), prose 250: Karel Hlavaček, vignette 250: “Books” (“Książki”), review – Jan Kasprowicz’s The Wild Rosebush (Krzak dzikiej róży); Gyp’s Totote, Eux et elle, Elles et lui, etc. 250: vignette [artist not identified]; photograph of Jan Kasprowicz 250-251: Br., “The Horse Sonnets” (“Sonety końskie”), poetry 250: Karel Hlavaček, vignette 251: “Chronicle” (“Kronika”) – brief notes and announcements about new publications, Gabriela Zapolska, jubilee, Mickiewicz memorial, performances 251: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 251: “La dame aux yeux crevés” (“Ballada o pani, której wyłupiono oczy”), poetry, Ludwik Sz[epański] (trans.) 251-252: “Echoes” (“Echa”) – brief notes and letters 252: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 252: Correspondence from the editors

Vol. 2, no. 22 (28 May 1898) Cover: Teofil Terlecki 253: Bolesław Nitecki, title vignette 253: announcement from Ludwik Szczepański of last issue under his editorship 253: J[ózef] S[tanisław] Wierzbicki, “The Maritime Silence” (“Cisza morska”), poetry 253-255: Józef Rychnowski, “Elektroid,” essay 255: Karel Hlavaček, vignette 255-259: Ola Hansson, “The New Problem of the Heart” (“Nowy problemat serca”), prose 259: Karel Hlavaček, vignette 256: Wł[odzimierz] Perzyński, “Bogumił Aspis,” essay 256: Karel Hlavaček, vignette 256: Bolesław Leśmian, “Sonnet,” poetry

279

256-258: Kazimierz Sterling, “About Maria W.” (“O Maryę W.”), essay 258-259: anonymous, “The Real Ibsen” (“Prawdziwy Ibsen”), essay, Wojciech Szukiewicz (trans.) 259-260: L-k: “Stanisław Przybyszewski’s ‘Homo Sapiens’” (“‘Homo Sapiens’ Stanisława Przybyszewskiego”), essay 260: Paul Scheerbart, “Phantastensure” (“Oda fantastyczna”), poetry, Ludwik Szczepański (trans.) 260: Karel Hlavaček, vignette; Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 261: Δ, “Letters from Lwów” (“Listy lwowskie”), essay (correspondence) 261-262: “Books” (“Książki”), review – Władysław Orkan’s Novellas 262: Edgar Allan Poe, “To Mother” (“Do matki”), poetry, Antoni Lange (trans.) 262: vignette [artist not identified] 262: “Chronicle” (“Kronika”) – brief notes and announcements about new publications 262-263: Przyjaciel [Adolf Nowaczyński], “The Charity Banquet” (“Festyn dobroczynny”), prose 263-264: editors of Urwisz, “On the Matter of the Honor of Journalism” (“W sprawie honoru dziennikarstwa”), essay 264: “Echoes” (“Echa”) – brief notes and letters 264: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette; vignette [artist not identified] 264: Correspondence from the editors

Vol. 2, no. 23 (4 June 1898) [editorial change: editors: Ignacy Sewer-Maciejowski and Artur Górski; artistic director: Leon Wyczółkowski] 265: Bolesław Nitecki, title vignette 265: Editorial statement, “Introduction” (“Słowo wstępne”), essay 266: X, “On Our Stage” (“O scenę naszą”), essay 266: vignette [artist not identified] 266: Jerzy Żuławski, From “Life” (Z cyklu “Życie”), poetry 267: Konstanty Laszczka, I Believe (Wierzę), sculpture 267-269: Antoni Sygietyński, “A Monument or a Monumental Work?” (“Pomnik czy dzieło pomnikowe?”), essay 269: Zdzisław Dębicki, “In the Forest” (“W lesie”), poetry 270: Kazimierz Gliński, sonnets including “Anhelli,” “Dawn” (“Przedświt”), “Mohort” and “Wiesław,” poetry 270, 272: Roman Lewandowski, “A Few Words on Sculpture” (“O rzeźbie słów kilkoro”), essay 271: Józef Pankiewicz, Lygea [reproduction of painting] 272-273: Or-Ot [Artur Oppman], “The Aryans” (“Aryanie”), poetry 273: Stanisław Wyspiański, Caritas [reproduction of painting] 273-274: anonymous, “The Real Ibsen” (“Prawdziwy Ibsen”), essay, Wojciech Szukiewicz (trans.) 275: Tadeusz Miciński, “Lwów Theater in Krakow” (“Teatr lwowski w Krakowie”), essay 275-276: “Chronicle” (“Kronika”) – brief notes and announcements about new exhibition, new publications 276: Correspondence from the editors

280

Vol. 2, no. 24 (18 June 1898) Cover: Teodor Axentowicz 277-278: R.B., “The Great Czech [Franciszek Palacky]” (“Wielki Czech”), essay 278-279: Quasimodo [Artur Górski], “Young Poland” (“Młoda Polska”), essay 279: Jerzy Żuławski, “Dies Irae,” poetry 279-282: Rudolf Starzewski, “Secession” (“Secessya”), essay 281: Jacek Malczewski, Anhelli [reproduction of painting] 282: Jerzy Żuławski, “Kunaksa,” poetry 282-283: anonymous, “The Real Ibsen” (“Prawdziwy Ibsen”), essay, Wojciech Szukiewicz (trans.) 283-284: Nadrój [Jan Michał Rozwadowski], “Marysia,” prose 284: Teofil Terlecki, vignette 285: Jacek Malczewski, The Viscious Circle (Błędne koło) [reproduction of painting] 286: Δ, “Letters from Lwów” (“Listy lwowskie”), essay (correspondence) 286: T. Pelikan, “Fragment,” poetry 286-287: Alfred Wysocki, “From Zakopane” (“Z Zakopanego”), essay 287: Jacek Malczewski, Boy on a Ladder (Chłopiec na drabinie) [reproduction] 287-288: Antoni Potocki, “On Theater” (“Z teatru”), essay 288: Włodzimierz Perzyński, “Life” (“Życie”), poetry 289: photograph of relief bust of Franciszek Palacky [artist not identified] 290: Tadeusz Miciński and three anonymous reviews, “Lwów Theater in Krakow” (“Teatr lwowski w Krakowie”), essay 291: “Review of reviews” (“Przegląd przeglądów”) – Kwartalnik naukowo-polityczny i społeczny 291-292: “Books” (“Książki”), review – J.K. Huysmans’s La Cathedrale; Cyrano de Bergerac’s Edmond Rostand 292: “Chronicle” (“Kronika”) – brief notes and announcements about new exhibitions, new publications, letter from Emil Bobrowski 292: Correspondence from the editors 293-294: Gabryela Zapolska, “The Anti-Semite” (“Antysemitnik”), prose 294-295: Antoni Sygietyński, “A Monument or a Monumental Work?” (“Pomnik czy dzieło pomnikowe?”), essay 295-296: Kazimierz Sterling, “On Maria W.” (“O Marye W.”), essay 296: Rekrut, “Recruits” (“Rekruci”), poetry

Vol. 2, no. 25 (25 June 1898) Cover: Teodor Axentowicz 297-298: Piotr Chmielowski, “Mickiewicz and Youth” (“Mickiewicz i młodość”), essay 297: Wacław Szymanowski, recto and verso of Adam Mickiewicz medal; [photograph]; 298: vignette [artist not identified] 299: Quasimodo [Artur Górski], “Young Poland” (“Młoda Polska”), essay 299: Józef Pankiewicz, Barbarka [reproduction 300: M. Zdziechowski, “Mickiewicz and Palacki,” essay 301: Józef Chełmoński, Smoke (Dymy) [reproduction] 301: J. Sam, “Farewell” (“Pożegnanie”), poetry

281

301-303: Zygmunt Wasilewski, “On Tone in Poetry and in Life” (“O ton w poezyi i w życiu”), essay 303: Zdzisław Dębicki, “By the Sea” (“Nad morzem”), poetry 304-306: Rudolf Starzewski, “Secession” (“Secessya”), essay 304: Jan Stanisławski, vignette; Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette; 305: Teodor Axentowicz, vignette; Jacek Malczewski, vignette; vignette [artist not identified] 306-307: Antoni Potocki, “‘Forefathers’ on the Stage” (“‘Dziady’ na scenie”), essay 307-309: Nadrój [Jan Michał Rozwadowski], “Marysia,” prose 309-310: Wojciech Szukiewicz, “Polish Artists in America” (“Artyści polscy w Ameryce”), essay 310: Jerzy Żuławski, “Ananke” poetry 311: A.P., “Lwów Theater in Krakow” (“Teatr lwowski w Krakowie”), essay 311-312: “Chronicle” (“Kronika”) – brief notes and announcements about new school, death of Edward Burne Jones 312: Correspondence from the editors

Vol. 2, no. 26 (2 July 1898) Cover: artist not identified 313: Konstanty Laszczka, Faith (Wiara) [photograph of sculpture] 313-316: Włodzimierz Tetmajer, “The Polish Peasant on the Mickiewiczian Festival” (“Chłop polski na uroczystości Mickiewiczowskiej”), essay 317-318: L, “Rembrandt’s Lisowczyk” (“‘Lisowczyk’ Rembrandta”), essay 317: Teodor Axentowicz, reproduction of a pastel 318-319: Zygmunt Wasilewski, “On Tone in Poetry and in Life” (“O ton w poezyi i w życiu”), essay 318: vignette [artist not identified] 319: Władysław Orkan, “I Am Happy” (“Szczęśliwy jestem”), poetry 320-321: Sewer [Ignacy Maciejowski], “Woman” (“Kobieta”), prose 321: Jacek Malczewski, A Slave’s Inspiration (Natchnienie niewolnika) [reproduction of painting] 322: J. Pelikan, “The Woods” (“Lasy”), poetry 322-323: unidentified author, “[Georg] Brandes on Mickiewicz” (“Brandes o Mickiewiczu”), essay 323-324: Δ, “Letters from Lwów” (“Listy lwowskie”), essay (correspondence) 324: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 325: Tomasz Czaszka [Tadeusz Rittner], “From Vienna” (“Z Wiednia”), essay (correspondence) 325: Teodor Axentowicz, detail of “Sztuka” poster [reproduction] 326: Q, “Mickiewiczian Celebration in Krakow” (“Obchód Mickiewiczowski w Krakowie”), essay 326-327: Antoni Potocki,“On Theater (“Z Teatru”), essay 328: “Chronicle” (“Kronika”) – brief notes and announcements about Wacław Szymanowski, new publications, Mickiewicz memorial

Vol. 2, no. 27 (9 July 1898) Cover: Teodor Axentowicz

282

329-331: unidentified author, “Polish-Czech Relations and P. Hovorka’s Speech” (“Wzajemność polsko-czeska i mowa P. Hovorki”), essay 331: W. Gozdawa Godkowski, “Silent Night . . . You Desire!” (“Nocy cicha… Ty pragniesz!”), poetry 331-332: Antoni Potocki, “New Satire” (“Nowa satyra”), essay 331: vignette [artist not identified]; 332: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 333: W. Sch., “Burne-Jones,” essay 333: Konstanty Laszczka, Bust [photograph of sculpture] 334-335: Sewer [Ignacy Maciejowski], “Woman” (“Kobieta”), prose 334: vignette [artist not identified] 335: José-Maria de Heredia, “Sonnet,” poetry, Józef Klemensiewicz 335-337: A[ntoni] Sygietyński, “Piddock-Fry” (Pholas dactylus) (“Skałotocz-Palczak”), essay 337: Stanisław Wyspiański, Study [reproduction of drawing] 337-338: Δ, “Letters from Lwów” (“Listy lwowskie”), essay (correspondence) 338: Feliks Wygrzywalski, vignette 339: Andzrej Niemojewski, “From Warsaw’s Movement” (“Z ruchu warszawskiego”), essay 339: vignette [artist not identified] 340: Tomasz Czaszka [Tadeusz Rittner], “From Vienna” (“Z Wiednia”), essay (correspondence) 340: vignette [artist not identified] 341: Władysław Orkan, “On the Fallows…” (“Po ugorach...”), poetry 341-342: Jaksa Ronikier, “Victory” (“Zwycięstwo”), prose 342-343: M[ścisław] [E]dward Nekanda-Trepka, “From London” (“Z Londynu”), essay (correspondence) 343: vignette [artist not identified] 344: “Chronicle” (“Kronika”) – brief notes and announcements about Krakow gymnasium, new exhibitions, new publications 344: Correspondence from the editors

Vol. 2, no. 28 (16 July 1898) Cover: Teodor Axentowicz 345: Jerzy Żuławski, “By the Sea” (“Nad morzem”), poetry 345-347: Antoni Potocki, “New Satire” (“Nowa satyra”), essay 347-348: Gugliemo Ferrero, “The State of Siege among the Latin Races” (“Stan oblężenia u ras łacińskich”), essay 348: Stanisław Wyrzykowski, “Deo incognito,” poetry 349: Józef Mehoffer, Portrait [reproduction of painting] 350-352: Stefan Korneli, “The Grouse Hunt” – an excerpt from the novel The Escape (“Polowanie na jarząbki” – urywek z powieści “Ucieczka”), prose 352: vignette [artist not identified] 353: Jacek Malczewski, Polish Pegasus (Pegaz polski), painting 353-355: Björnstjerne Björnson, “Beyond Strength” (“Ponad siły”), play 355: Karol Homolacs, “Cemetery” (“Cmentarz”), poetry 356-357: Δ, “Letters from Lwów” (“Listy lwowskie”), essay (correspondence)

283

357: Wojciech Szukiewicz, “From Zakopane” (“Z Zakopanego”), essay 357: Władysław Sterling, “The Ash Tree” (“Jesion”), poetry 358-359: Adolf Przyjaciel [Adolf Nowaczyński], “If He Had a Million” (“Gdyby miał milion”), prose 359: A.n., “Garden Theater” (“Teatr ogródkowy”), essay 359: “Chronicle” (“Kronika”) – brief notes and announcements about Polish press, death of Anastazy Trapszo, Marian Gawalewicz, Ateneum 359: Julian Fałat, vignette 359: Correspondence from the editors

Vol. 2, no. 29 (23 July 1898) Cover: Teodor Axentowicz 360: K[azimierz] Przerwa-Tetmajer, “On the Royal Lake” (“Na królewskiem jeziorze”), poetry 360-363: J.M., “Mickiewicz Monument” (“Pomnik Mickiewicza”), essay 363-366: Sotwaros, “The Artist of the Monument: A Conversation with Teodor Rygier” (“Twórca pomnika: Rozmowa z Teodorem Rygierem”), essay 365: Teodor Rygier, Poetry group (Grupa Poezyi) from the Adam Mickiewicz memorial [photograph of sculpture]; 366: vignette [artist not identified] 367-368: Antoni Potocki, “New Satire” (“Nowa satyra”), essay 368-371: Nadrój [Jan Michał Rozwadowski], “The Wise Peasant” (“Mądry chłop”), prose 369: photograph of Teodor Rygier’s Mickiewicz memorial in Krakow 371: Jerzy Żuławski, “The Gods’ Theater” (“Teatr bogów”), poetry 371-372: Kazimierz Rakowski, “Our Industry under the Prussian Partition” (“Nasz przemysł pod zaborem pruskim”), essay 372-373: Hugo Haberfeld, “Giovanni Segantini,” essay 373-374: Björnstjerne Björnson, “Beyond Strength” (“Ponad siły”), play 374-375: Adolf Przyjaciel [Adolf Nowaczyński], “If He Had a Million” (“Gdyby miał milion”), prose 375-376: “Letters” (“Listy”), correspondence – from Kazimierz Przerwa-Tetmajer 376: Correspondence from the editors

Vol. 2, no. 30 (30 July 1898) Cover: Teodor Axentowicz 377-378: Jaroslav Vrchlický, “Giacomo Leopardi,” essay 378: Jerzy Żuławski, sonnets including “Creative Thought” (“Myśl tworcza”), “God’s Happiness” (“Szczęście Boga”) and “Frederick Wilhelm IV,” poetry 378-380: W[ilhelm] F[eldman], “Sascha Schneider,” essay 380: Adolf Przyjaciel [Adolf Nowaczyński], “If He Had a Million” (“Gdyby miał milion”), prose 381-383: Nadrój [Jan Michał Rozwadowski], “The Wise Peasant” (“Mądry chłop”), prose 381: Teodor Rygier, Adam Mickiewicz medallion [photograph of relief sculpture] 383-384: Jean Arny, “The Bards of Wales” (“Walijscy bardowie”), poetry, Antoni Lange (trans.)

284

384-386: Paul Scheerbart, “Capricious Sun” (“Kapryśne słońce”), “Among the Wild Beasts” (“Pośród dzikich bestyi”), “Die gebratenen Tauben” (“Pieczone gołąbki”), prose 385: Józef Mehoffer, Portrait of Teodor Rygier [reproduction of drawing] 386-387: Δ, “Letters from Lwów” (“Listy lwowskie”), essay (correspondence) 387-388: Tomasz Czaszka [Tadeusz Rittner], “From Vienna” (“Z Wiednia”), essay (correspondence) 388: J. Wojtala, vignette 388-391: Björnstjerne Björnson, “Beyond Strength” (“Ponad siły”), play 391-392: A.n., “Garden Theater in Krakow” (“Teatr ogródkowy w Krakowie”), essay 392: “Chronicle” (“Kronika”) – brief notes and announcements about new exhibitions, School of Fine Arts, contest, performances, new publications 392: Correspondence from the editors

Vol. 2, no. 31 (6 August 1898) Cover: Teodor Axentowicz 393: Władysław Orkan, “I Am Coming To You…” (“Idę ku tobie…”), poetry 393-396: Antoni Lange, “On Romanticism before Mickiewicz” (“O romantyzmie przed Mickiewiczem”), essay 395: Reproduction of poster for “Sztuka” exhibition with vignette by Teodor Axentowicz 396: Jerzy Żuławski, sonnets including “Black Eyes,” (“Czarne oczy”), “A la Botticelli,” “Athene Glaukopis,” poetry 396: Andrzej Niemojewski, “You wither, my flower…” (“Usychasz kwiatku…”), poetry 397: Stanisław Wyspiański, Study [reproduction] 397-400: Nadrój [Jan Michał Rozwadowski], “The Wise Peasant” (“Mądry chłop”), prose 400-402: Adolf Nowaczyński, “Paul Scheerbart,” essay 401: Stanisław Janowski, vignette 402-403: W.O. [Ludwik Szczepański], “From Podkarpacie” (“Z Podkarpacia”), prose 403-404: Tomasz Czaszka [Tadeusz Rittner], “From Vienna” (“Z Wiednia”), essay (correspondence) 404-406: Kazimierz Rakowski, “Letters from Berlin” (“Listy z Berlina”), essay (correspondence) 406-408: Antoni Müller, “The Literary Summary Judgment” (“Literacki sąd doraźny”), essay 408: “Chronicle” (“Kronika”) – brief notes and announcements about new exhibitions, new publications 408: Correspondence from the editors

Vol. 2, no. 32 (13 August 1898) Cover: Teodor Axentowicz 409: anonymous, “Prince Bismarck” (“Ksiązę Bismarck”), essay 410-412: Antoni Lange, “On Romanticism before Mickiewicz” (“O romantyzmie przed Mickiewiczem”), essay 412: Władysław Sterling, “Mountain Storm” (“Burza Górska”), poetry 412: Andrzej Niemojewski, “Shepherd in the Forest” (“Pastuch w borze”), poetry

285

413-415: Nadrój [Jan Michał Rozwadowski], “The Wise Peasant” (“Mądry chłop”), prose 413: A. Prohaska, Jan Hus, [photograph of sculpture bust] 415-416: Adolf Nowaczyński, “Paul Scheerbart,” essay 416: Jan Stanisławski, Storm, vignette 417-419: Anton Chekov, “The Man in a Case” (“Człowiek w futerale”), prose 417: Jan Stanisławski, vignette 419: Zdzisław Dębicki, “Vision” (“Wizya”), poetry 419-420: J[an] L[orentowicz], “Letters from Paris” (“Listy paryskie”), essay (correspondence) 420-422: Adolf Przyjaciel [Adolf Nowaczyński], “From the City in August” (“Z miasta, w sierpniu”), essay 422-423: “Review of reviews” (“Przegląd przeglądów”) – Przegląd filozoficzny 423: “Letters” (“Listy”), correspondence – from Hora. 423-424: “Books” (“Książki”), review – Andrzej Stopka’s Sleeping Knights in the Tatras (Rycerze śpiący w Tatrach); Franciszek Mirandolla’s Liber tristium 424: “Chronicle” (“Kronika”) – brief notes and announcements about new publications, death of Karel Hlavacek, death of Jerzy Ebers 424: Correspondence from the editors

Vol. 2, no. 33 (20 August 1898) Cover: Teodor Axentowicz 425-428: Antoni Lange, “On Romanticism before Mickiewicz” (“O romantyzmie przed Mickiewiczem”), essay 428: Arte, “In the Moonlit Night” (“Miesięczną nocą”), poetry 428-429: Jerzy Żuławski, “White Rat” (“Biały szczur”), prose 430, 432: Adolf Nowaczyński, “Paul Scheerbart,” essay 431: A. Prohazka and Hergesel, sculptural project for a Jan Hus memorial in Prague (photograph) 433: Zdzisław Dębicki, “Across Some Vast, Blue Sea…” (“Przez jakieś morze wielkie, sine…”), poetry 433-435: Anton Chekov, “The Man in a Case” (“Człowiek w futerale”), prose 435-437: J[an] L[orentowicz], “Letters from Paris” (“Listy paryskie”), essay (correspondence) 437: Józef Mehoffer, Study [reproduction] 438: anonymous, “The Orthodox Church Bell” (“Dzwon cerkiewny”), poetry 439-440: N.J., “From London” (“Z Londynu), essay (correspondence) 440: Ignacy Sewer Maciejowski, “A Few Words on the ‘Open Letter’ by Ludwik Szczepański” (“Kilka słów z powody ‘Listu otwartego’ p. Ludwika Szczepańskiego”), essay 440: “Letters” (“Listy”), correspondence – from unidentified Polish sculptor in Rome 440: “Chronicle” (“Kronika”) – brief notes and announcements about contest, new publications

Vol. 2, no. 34 (27 August 1898) Cover: Teodor Axentowicz

286

441-442: anonymous, “State of Emergency” (“Stan wyjątkowy”), essay 442: Włodzimierz Perzyński, “At Dawn” (“O świcie”), poetry 442: vignette [artist not identified] 443: Antoni Potocki, “Tolstoy,” essay 443: vignette [artist not identified] 444-446: Jerzy Żuławski, “The White Rat” (“Biały szczur”), prose 445: Leon Wyczółkowski, Portrait, plate from Ver Sacrum (klisza z Ver Sacrum) 446: Arte, “Your Shadow...” (“Twój cień…”), poetry 446-448: Antoni Lange, “On Romanticism before Mickiewicz” (“O romantyzmie przed Mickiewiczem”), essay 448, 450: Edgar Allan Poe, “The Tell-Tale Heart” (“Zdradzieckie serce”), prose, J.W. (trans.) 449: Jan Stanisławski, Landscape [reproduction] 451-452: Z[ofia] D[aszyńka], “On Munich Exhibitions” (“Z wystaw monachijskich”), essay 452-454: W.O. [Ludwik Szczepański], “From Podkarpacie” (“Z Podkarpacia”), prose 453: Olga Boznańska, Head of a Woman (Głowa kobieca) [reproduction of drawing] 454-455: Kazimierz Rakowski, “Letters from Berlin” (“Listy z Berlina”), essay (correspondence) 455: editorial statement, “From the editors” (“Od redakcyi”) 455: vignette [artist not identified] 456: “Theater” (“Teatr”), review 456: “Books” (“Książki”), review – Stanisław Koszutski’s On the Soul’s Pains (Z bólów duszy); Maryan z nad Dniepru’s History of Polish Literature for Polish Youth (Dzieje literatury ojczystej dla młodzieży polskiej) 456: “Chronicle” (“Kronika”) – brief notes and announcements about Warsaw Polytechnic, Death of Franciszek Krupiński, Sobieski memorial, new bookstore, death of Jan Wortmann, Goncourt, performance 456: Correspondence from the editors

Vol. 2, no. 35 (10 September 1898) [Alfred Wysocki replaced Artur Górski] Cover: Teodor Axentowicz Insert: Edward Burne-Jones, I. Paderewski, pencil drawing 457: Jerzy Żuławski, “Conspuez Zola!”, poetry 457-459: Leo Tolstoy, “What is Art?” (“Co to jest sztuka?”), essay 459: Philip Burne-Jones, Portrait of Edward Burne-Jones [reproduction] 459-461: Tomasz Czaszka [Tadeusz Rittner], “By the Lake” (“Nad jeziorem”), prose 461: Władysław Orkan, “For Better or for Worse...” (“Na dolę i niedolę...”), poetry 461: Edward Burne-Jones, Annunciation (Zwiastowanie) [reproduction of painting] 462-464: André Fontainas, “Claude Monet,” essay 463: Jan Stanisławski, Thistles (Bodiaki) [reproduction of painting] 464: Władysław Sterling, “[Lake] Morskie Oko in the Night” (“Morskie Oko w nocy”), poetry 464: Stanisław Korczak, “The Older Brother” (“Starszy brat”), prose 465: Cezary Jellenta, “July Night” (“Noc lipcowa”), poetry 465: Julian Fałat, Study [reproduction]

287

465-466: Peter Altenberg, “The Twilight of the Idols” (“Zmierzch bożków”), prose, Stanisław Sierosławski (trans.) 466-467: Δ, “From Lwów” (“Ze Lwowa”), essay (correspondence) 467-468: Tomasz Czaszka [Tadeusz Rittner], “From Vienna” (“Z Wiednia”), essay (correspondence) 468: vignette [artist not identified] 468-471: Z[ofia] D[aszyńka], “On Munich Exhibitions” (“Z wystaw monachijskich”), essay 469: Stanisław Masłowski, The Gypsy Woman (Cyganka) [reproduction of painting] 471-472: Antoni Potocki, “On Theater” (“Z teatru”), essay 472: J. Klem., “Literary Review” (“Przegląd literacki”), review 472: “Chronicle” (“Kronika”) – brief notes and announcements about Stanisław Przybyszewski, new exhibitions, music contest 472: Correspondence from the editors

Vol. 2, no. 36 and 37 (17 September 1898) 473-474: F [Wilhelm Feldman], “War – with War” (“Wojna – wojnie”), essay 474-475: Tomasz Czaszka [Tadeusz Rittner], “By the Lake” (“Nad jeziorem”), prose 475: Kazimierz Lewandowski, “Storm” (“Burza”), poetry 476-477: Leo Tolstoy, “What is Art?” (“Co to jest sztuka?”), essay, Antoni Potocki (trans.) 477: Stanisław Pienkowski, A Woman and Butterfly (Kobieta i motyl) [reproduction] 477-478: D-mol [Maryla Wolska z Młodnickich], “Suite,” prose 478: vignette [artist not identified] 478: Jerzy Żuławski, “Rabbi Tharfen, Child Killer” (“Rabi Tharfen dzieciobójca”), poetry 479-480: Antoni Lange, “On Romanticism before Mickiewicz” (“O romantyzmie przed Mickiewiczem”), essay 481-482: Władysław Orkan, “Simple Reply” (“Prosta odpowiedź”), poetry 481: Leon Wyczółkowski, Beets (Buraki) [reproduction] 482-484: Zofia Daszyńska, “Capitalism and Nationality” (“Kapitalizm i narodowość”), essay 484-485: Paul Scheerbart, “The Court Session in the Year 1901” (“Sesya sądowa w roku 1901”), prose 485: anonymous, “Delicate Body” (“Delikatne ciało”), prose 485-486: Edgar Allan Poe, “Silence” (“Milczenie”), prose, J. Ra. (trans.) 485: Józef Mehoffer, The Peasant Woman (Chłopka), [reproduction of painting] 486: Edmund Bieder, “Vision” (“Wizya”), poetry 487: Jan Baudouin de Courtenay, “Un-opportunistic Thoughts” (“Myśli nieoportunistyczne”), prose 488: Friedrich Nietzsche, “The Song of the Night” (“Pieśń nocy”), prose 488-489: C., “The World’s Armies and Disarmament” (“Armie świata i rozbrojenie”), essay 489: Włodzimierz Tetmajer, Piast [reproduction of painting] 489-490: Alfred Wysocki, “Felicien Rops,” essay

288

490-491: Adolf Przyjaciel [Adolf Nowaczyński], “The Black Pond” (“Czarny staw”), prose 491-493: Δ, “From Lwów” (“Ze Lwowa”), essay (correspondence) 493: “Letters” (“Listy”), correspondence – anonymous 493: Wojciech Weiss, Melancholic [reproduction of painting] 494: Maciej Szukiewicz, “Dawn at Morskie Oko” (“Rankiem w morskiem oku”), poetry 494: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 495: J. Klem., “Literary Review” (“Przegląd literacki”), review 495: “Review of reviews” (“Przegląd przeglądów”) – Forum, Mercure de France, Revue des revues 495-496: “Books” (“Książki”), review – Rosa Luxembourg’s Die Industrielle Entwickelung Polens; Ludwik Krzywicki’s Spontaneous Celebration (Celebracya żywiołowa) 496: “Chronicle” (“Kronika”) – brief notes and announcements about new publications, death of Stephane Mallarmé, Józef Śliwicki, performances, press 496: Books received 496: Correspondence from the editors

Vol. 2, no. 38 and 39 (15 October 1898) [new editor: Stanisław Przybyszewski; Alfred Wysocki as Managing Editor] 497: Ignacy Sewer Maciejowski, introduction to “From the Editor” (“Od redakcyi”) 497-498: Stanisław Przybyszewski, “From the Editor” (“Od redakcyi”), essay 498-500: Zofia Daszyńska, “Ethics in the Social Economy” (“Etyka w gospodarstwie społecznem”), essay 500: Maciej Szukiewicz, “In the Darkness” (“W mrokach”), poetry 501-503: Stanisław Przybyszewski, from “Vigilien,” prose 504-505: F [Wilhelm Feldman], “The Parliamentary Situation” (“Sytuacya parlamentarna”), essay 505: Olga Boznańska, Portrait reproduction of painting] 506: MK [Maria Konopnicka], “The Cry” (“Krzyk”), poetry 506-507: Tadeusz Miciński, “The Pantheist” (“Panteista”), prose 507: Władysław Orkan, “Brother-Sister” (“Brat-Siostrzyca”), poetry 508-510: Rachilde, “The Death of Antinous” (“Śmierć Antinousa”), prose, L-k [Stanisław Lack] (trans.) 509: Józef Mehoffer, Self-portrait [reproduction of painting] 509-511: Kazimierz I. Gorzycki, “The Partition of Polish History” (“Podział dziejów polski”), essay 511: Adam Mickiewicz, untitled, prose 512-513: A[rtur] G[órski], “Żeromski’s ‘Novels’” (“‘Utwory powieściowe’ Żeromskiego”), essay 513-514: D. mol. [Maryla Wolska z Młodnickich], “Rondo Capriccioso,” prose 513: Aleksander Augustynowicz, Portrait [reproduction] 514-516: Jens Johannes Jörgensen, “Life’s Falsehoods and Truth” (“Kłamstwa i prawda życia”), prose 516-517: Δ, “From Lwów” (“Ze Lwowa”), essay (correspondence)

289

517: Tomasz Czaszka [Tadeusz Rittner], “From Vienna” (“Z Wiednia”), essay (correspondence) 517: J. Wojtala, vignette 518: “Review of reviews” (“Przegląd przeglądów”) – Biblioteka warszawska, Ateneum 518-519: “Books” (“Książki”), review – Radziwiłł ks. Michał’s Neighbor (Bliźni); Kazimierz Król and Jan Nitowski’s Textbook for Learning Polish Literature (Podręcznik do nauki literatury polskiej); Zygmunt Gargas’s On the Rent Tax (O podatku rentowym) 519-520: “Chronicle” (“Kronika”) – brief notes and announcements about Polish School in Biała, lectures, new publications, exhibitions, death of Witold Niemirycz, contests, performances 520: Books received 520: Correspondence from the editors

Vol. 2, no. 40 and 41 (29 October 1898) [new Artistic Director: Stanisław Wyspiański] Cover: Teodor Axentowicz Insert: Jean Toorop, The Sphinx, 1897, pencil and crayon on paper [reproduction] 521: Or-Ot [Artur Oppman], from “Chopin’s Motifs” (“Z Motywów Szopena”), poetry 521: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 522-523: Cezary Jellenta, “Moral Process” (“Proces moralny”), essay 523: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 524-529: Stanisław Przybyszewski, from “Vigilien,” prose 525, 527, 528: Karel Hlaváček, vignettes; 526, 529: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignettes 524: Edvard Munch, Harpy (Upiór), 1894 [reproduction of lithograph] 529: Edvard Munch, The Scream (Kzryk), 1895 [reproduction of lithograph]; Felix Vallotton, Portrait of Schumann [reproduction of woodcut] 529: Lucian Rydel, “Song” (“Śpiew”), poetry 530-531: Tadeusz Miciński, “St. Teresa’s Song” (“Glosa–pieśń Świętej Teresy”), poetry 530: Edvard Munch, Symbol [Madonna], 1895 [reproduction of lithograph] 531-533: Wł[adysław] M[ieczysław] Kozłowski, “Bolesław Limanowski,” essay 533: Karel Hlaváček, vignette 534-535: Zdzisław Dębicki, “Enchantment” (“Zachwyt”), prose 535: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 534: Felicien Rops, De Castitate, 1884 [reproduction] 535: Gustav Vigeland, Into the World (W świat) [photograph of sculpture] 536: Koma, “On Theater” (“Z teatru”), essay 536-538: Δ, “From Lwów” (“Ze Lwowa”), essay (correspondence) 538-539: [Kazimierz I.] Gorzycki, “The Partition of Polish History (“Podział dziejów polski”), essay 540: Jens Johannes Jörgensen, “Life’s Falsehoods and Truths” (“Kłamstwa i prawda życia”), prose 540: vignette [artist not identified]; Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 541: “Review of reviews” (“Przegląd przeglądów”) – Tygodnik polski, Sozialistische Monatshefte 541-542: “Books” (“Książki”), review – Lucyan Rydel’s Poetry I. With drawings by Stanisław Wyspiański (Poezye I. Z rysunkami St. Wyspiańskiego); Zygmunt Przybylski’s

290

On the Development of Polish Theater (Z rozwoju polskiego Teatru); Włodzimierz Tetmajer’s The Festivities and Christmas (Gody i godnie święta) 542: vignette [artist not identified] 542-543: “Echoes” (“Echa”) – brief notes and letters 543: vignette [artist not identified] 543-544: “Chronicle” (“Kronika”) – brief notes and announcements about death of Franciszek Czarnowski, death of Herman Müller, Henryk Perzyński, death of Puvis de Chavannes, new publications, theater, exhibitions, courses 544: Correspondence from the editors

Vol. 2, no. 42 (5 November 1898) Cover: Teodor Axentowicz 545-546:Andrzej Niemojewski, “Letters from Warsaw” (“Listy z Warszawy”), essay (correspondence) 546: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 546: Edvard Munch, Self-Portrait (Portret własny) [reproduction of lithograph] 547-548: Stanisław Przybyszewski, “On the Paths of the Soul” (“Na drogach duszy”), essay 548: Karel Hlaváček, vignettes; photograph of unidentified sculpture by Gustav Vigeland 549: Cezary Jellenta, “Moral Process” (“Proces moralny”), essay 550-551: Kazimierz Lewandowski, “Roses” (“Róże”), prose 550, 551: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignettes 552: Konrad Rakowski, “Theater” (“Teatr”), essay 552: Karel Hlaváček, Self (Jaźń) [reproduction of drawing] 552: Δ, “Lwów Theater” (“Teatr lwowski”), essay (correspondence) 553: Ephraim Moses Lilien, Consecration of the Knives (Święcenie nożów) [reproduction of print] 554: L.A.P., “After the Lecture” (“Po odczycie”), prose 554: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 555: “Books” (“Książki”), review – Wiktor Biernacki’s New Domains of the Spectrum (Nowe dziedziny widma), German reviews 555: vignettes [artists not identified] 555-556: “Echoes” (“Echa”) – brief notes and letters 556: vignette [artist not identified] 556: “Chronicle” (“Kronika”) – brief notes and announcements about current issue, death of Władysław Zajączkowski, death of Adam Sienkiewicz, new publications, lectures, performances, contest, journalism school in Paris, exhibitions 556: brief editorial statement 556: Correspondence from the editors

Vol. 2, no. 43 (12 November 1898) 557: Stanisław Brzozowski, “Oh Come!” (“O przyjdź”), poetry 557: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 558-559: Lucyan Rydel, From the Portfolio of Dramas – “The Little Salon of the Country Mansion” (Z teki dramatycznej – “Salonik w dworze wiejskim”), play

291

559: Stanisław Brzozowski, untitled, poetry 559: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 559: Paweł Peterich, At Dusk (O zmroku) [reproduction] 560-561: Stanisław Przybyszewski, “On the Paths of the Soul” (“Na drogach duszy”), essay 561: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 562: Gustav Vigeland, At the Abyss (Nad przepaścią) [photograph of sculpture] 562: Konrad Rakowski, “Theater” (“Teatr”), essay 562: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 563: Jens Johannes Jörgensen, “Life’s Falsehoods and Truths” (“Kłamstwa i prawda życia”), prose 563: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 564: Zofia Daszyńska, “The Issues of Socialism” (“Zagadnienia socyalizmu”), essay 564: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 565-567: Odo Bujwid, “Pestilence” (“Dżuma”), essay 567-568: Tomasz Czaszka [Tadeusz Rittner], “On a Journey during a Journey” (“Z podróży o podróży”), prose 568-569: Δ, “Lwów, November 8th” (“Lwów, 8-go listopada”), essay (correspondence) 569: Ephraim Moses Lilien, From the Peasant Wars (Z wojen chłopskich) [reproduction] 570: “Review of reviews” (“Przegląd przeglądów”) – Revue des revues, Das litterarische Echo 570: vignettes [artist not identified] 570-571: “Books” (“Książki”), review – Jan Iwański’s Sonnets; S.R. Landau’s Unter jüdischen Proletariern; Adolf Sternschuss’s Jan Matejko House (Dom Jana Matejki) 571: “Echoes” (“Echa”) – brief notes and letters 571: vignettes [artist not identified] 571-572: “Chronicle” (“Kronika”) – brief notes and announcements about death of Zygmunt Samolewicz, Julian Klaczko, classes, contests, Mickiewicz memorial, lectures, new publications, awards, exhibitions, Workers’ House, Poles in Chicago 572: vignette [artist not identified]; Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 572: Books received

Vol. 2, no. 44 (19 November 1898) Cover: Teodor Axentowicz Insert: František Bílek, Christ, painting 573-574: Jerzy Żuławski, “Dies irae,” poetry 574: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 575-577: Stanisław Przybyszewski, “On the Paths of the Soul” (“Na drogach duszy”), essay 577: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 578: Cezary Jellenta, “Moral Process” (“Proces moralny”), essay 578: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 579: František Bílek, Earth Flying Into the Universe (Ziemia leci we wszechświat), [reproduction] 580-581: F [Wilhelm Feldman], “Nation of Parasites” (“Naród pasożytów”), essay 581: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette

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581-582: Zofia Daszyńska, “The Issues of Socialism” (“Zagadnienia socyalizmu”), essay 582: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette; vignette [artist not identified] 583-584: Władysław Mieczysław Kozłowksi, “American-Indian Novels” (“Powieści Indyan amerykańskich”), essay 584: Piast [Stanisław Szczepanowski], “Aphorisms on Education” (“Aforyzmy o wychowaniu”), prose 585: František Bílek, The Book of Visions (Księga wizyi) [reproduction] 586: “Books” (“Książki”), review – Zygmunt Gargas’s The Right to the Way out of Necessity (Prawo do drogi z konieczności); Karol Hertz’s The Most Recent Research on [Geometic] Space (Najnowsze badania nad przestrzenią) 586: vignettes [artist not identified] 586: “On Music” (“Z muzyki”), review 587: “On Theater” (“Z teatru”), review 587: “Echoes” (“Echa”) – brief notes and letters 587: vignettes [artist not identified] 588: “Chronicle” (“Kronika”) – brief notes and announcements about Artistic-Literary Circle in Lwów, theater, Mickiewicz memorial, “Sztuka,” Vienna Secession, performances, Warsaw, contests, new publications, exhibitions 588: vignettes [artist not identified] 588: Correspondence from the editors

Vol. 2, no. 45 (26 November 1898) Cover: Teodor Axentowicz 589: Marya Komornicka, “Second Life” (“Drugie życie”), poetry 590-592, 594-596, 598: Stanisław Wyspiański, “The Warsaw Song: A Song from 1831” (“Warszawianka: Pieśn z roku 1831”), play 590: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 593: Stanisław Wyspiański, Aurora [reproduction of drawing] 597: Stanisław Wyspiański, Aurora [detail] [reproduction of drawing] 599: Kornel Ujejski, “Ode to Poetry” (“Oda do poezyi”), poetry 600: Cezary Jellenta, “Moral Process” (“Proces moralny”), essay 600: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 601-602: Δ, “Lwów, November 23rd” (“Lwów, 23 listopada”), essay (correspondence) 602: “Books” (“Książki”), review – Georg Simmel’s Zur Soziologie der Religion; Ludwik Stein’s Die sociale Frage im Lichte der Philosophie; Paul Barth’s Die Philosophie der Geschichte als Sociologie 603: “Theater” (“Teatr”), review 603: “Echoes” (“Echa”) – brief notes and letters 603: vignettes [artist not identified] 604: “Chronicle” (“Kronika”) – brief notes and announcements about new publications, awards, Helena Modrzejewska, Marcelina Kochańska, exhibitions 604: vignettes [artist not identified] 604: Correspondence from the editors

Vol. 2, no. 46 (3 December 1898) Cover: Teodor Axentowicz

293

605: Edward Leszczyński, untitled, poetry 605: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 606-607: Georg Brandes, “On Poland” (“O Polsce”), essay, R.B. (trans.) 607-608: Cezary Jellenta, “Moral Process” (“Proces moralny”), essay 608: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 609: Stanisław Wyspiański, drawing [reproduction] from the first verse of the Iliad 610-612: Stanisław Wyspiański, “The Warsaw Song: A Song from 1831” (“Warszawianka: Pieśn z roku 1831”), play 612: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 612, 614-616: Jens Johannes Jörgensen, “Life’s Falsehoods and Truths” (“Kłamstwa i prawda życia”), prose 613: Stanisław Wyspiański, Apollo [reproduction] drawing 616: Konrad Rakowski, “Theater” (“Teatr”), essay 617-618: A.N. “Letter from Munich” (“List z Monachium”), essay (correspondence) 618-619: “On Exhibitions” (“Z wystawy”), review 619: “Books” (“Książki”), review – Aleksy Kurcyusz’s On the Woman Question (O kwestyi kobiecej); brief reviews by A.W. 619: vignettes [artist not identified] 619-620: “Echoes” (“Echa”) – brief notes and letters 620: vignettes [artist not identified] 620: “Chronicle” (“Kronika”) – brief notes and announcements about death of Aleksandra Rakiewiczowa, death of Franciszek Bieniasz, death of Conrad Ferdinand Meyer, purchases, Munkascy, openings, Chopin plaque, exhibitions, lectures, courses, new publications 620: Correspondence from the editors

Vol. 2, no. 47 (10 December 1898) Cover: Teodor Axentowicz 621:Bogusław Butrymowicz, “White Swans” (“Białe łabędzie”), poetry 621: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 622,625: Friedrich Nietzsche, “Zarathustra’s Preface” (“Przedmowa Zarathustry”), prose 625: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 623: Stanisław Wyspiański, Madonna [reproduction of painting] 626: Ewa Łusińska, “Reflex” (“Refleks”), prose 626: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 627: Edward Leszczyński, “Flow and Ebb” (“Przypływ i odpływ”), poetry 627: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignettes 627-628: K-r [Konrad Rakowski], “On the Most Recent Novels” (“Z najnowszej literatury powieściowej”), essay 628: “On Music” (“Z muzyki”), review 627: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignettes; vignette [artist not identified] 628, 631: “Books” (“Książki”), review – Witold Gozdawa-Godlewski’s And Again Songs (I jeszcze pieśni) 629: Stanisław Wyspiański, Sesame’s Treasures (Skarby Sezama) [reproduction of painting]

294

631: “Review of reviews” (“Przegląd przeglądów”) – Wiener Rundschau, Młodość, Ateneum 631: vignette [artist not identified] 632: “Chronicle” (“Kronika”) – brief notes and announcements about death of Giovanni Battista Quadrone and Josef Bertini, Künstlerhaus, contest, Talowski, new publications, performances, books received 632: Zofia Daszyńska, “To the Readers!” (“Do czytelników!”), essay

Vol. 2, no. 48 (17 December 1898) Cover: Teodor Axentowicz 633: Jerzy Żuławski, “I Saw You…” (“Widziałem ciebie…”), poetry 633: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 634-636: Stanisław Przybyszewski, “On the Paths of the Soul” (“Na drogach duszy”), essay 636: Stanisław Brzozowski, untitled poem, poetry 636: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 636: Juliusz Makarewicz, The Lyrist (Lirnik) [reproduction of drawing] 637: Francisco Goya, All Will Fall (Wszystkich obedrą z pierza), [1796-97, reproduction of etching] 639-640, 643: Friedrich Nietzsche, “Zarathustra’s Preface” (“Przedmowa Zarathustry”), prose 641: Stanisław Wyspiański, Let It Be (Stań się) [reproduction of stained glass cartoon] 643: Władysław Orkan, “From the Legends. Brahmans” (“Z legend. Brahmini”), poetry 643: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignettes 643: E[dward] Kubalski, “Let It Be! – for Wyspiański’s painting” (“Stań się!” – do obrazu Wyspiańskiego), poetry 644: D-mol [Maryla Wolska z Młodnickich], “Requiem aeternum,” poetry 644: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 645-646: Julius Zeyer, “Helena,” prose, Miriam [Zenon Przesmycki] (trans.) 646: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 647: Konrad Rakowski, “On Theater” (“Z Teatru”), essay 647: Włodzimierz Perzyński, “Near Autumn” (“Pod jesień”), poetry 648: “Review of reviews” (“Przegląd przeglądów”) – Czech journals, Quicborn, Revue blanche, Mercure de France 648: “Chronicle” (“Kronika”) – brief notes and announcements about memorial plaque for Mickiewicz 648: Correspondence from the editors 648: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette

Vol. 2, no. 49 (24 December 1898) Cover: Teodor Axentowicz 649: Maciej Szukiewicz, untitled poem, poetry 650-652: Stanisław Przybyszewski, “On the Paths of the Soul” (“Na drogach duszy”), essay 652: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette

295

653-654: Ewa Łuskina, “In the Circle of the Houselamp (“W kręgu domowej lampy”), prose 654: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 654: Alf [Alfred Szczepański], “Anima terrae,” poetry 655-656: Mortuus [Julian Ochorowicz], “Man – Woman” (“Człowiek – Kobieta”), prose 657: Jerzy Żuławski, “Love Song” – from the cycle “Royal Dreams” (“Pieśn miłości” – z cyklu “Królewskie sny”), poetry 657: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 658-659: Jiři Kárasek, “On the Youngest Czech Literature” (“Z najmłodszej literatury czeskiej”), essay 659: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 660: “Books” (“Książki”), review – Stanisław Reymont’s Promised Land (Ziemia obiecana) 660: “On Music” (“Z muzyki”), review 660: Correspondence from the editors 660: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette

Vol. 2, no. 50 (31 December 1898) Cover: Teodor Axentowicz 661: Zdzisław Dębicki, “Vision” (“Wizya”), poetry 661: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 662, 665-666: Stanisław Przybyszewski, “Ascension” (“Wniebowstąpienie”), prose 666: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 663: Stanisław Wyspiański, Stasia [reproduction of drawing] 666-668: Ola Hansson, “Edgar Allan Poe,” essay 668, 671-672: Anatole France, “Gestas,” prose, S.W. (trans.) 669: Stanisław Wyspiański, The Pensive Woman (Zadumana) [reproduction] 672: editorial statement, “To the readers!” (“Do czytelników”) 672: Correspondence from the editors

1899

Vol. 3, no. 1 (10 January 1899) Cover: Józef Mehoffer 1-4: Stanisław Przybyszewski, “Confiteor,” essay 1, 2, 3, 4: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignettes 5: Józef Mehoffer, Conversation (Rozmowa) [reproduction] 7: Stanisław Wyrzykowski, “In Atlantis” (“Na Atlantydzie”) and “Darkness” (“Ciemność”), poetry 7: Stanisław Wyspiański, Portrait, vignette 8: Georges Rodenbach, poem from “Nocturnes” (Z “Nokturnow”), Wincenty Brzozowski (trans.) 8: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 8: Stanisław and Wincenty Brzozowski, “To Karol Brzozowski, from his Sons, Stanisław and Wincenty” (“Karolowi Brzozowskiemu, Synowie Stanisław i Wincenty”), poetry

296

9-10: Stanisław Przybyszewski, “Androgyne,” prose 10: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 11: Władysław Orkan, “From the Gales” (“Z wichrów”), poetry 11: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 12-14: Ola Hansson, “Edgar Allan Poe,” essay 14: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 15: Józef Mehoffer, Portait of Antoni Kamiński [reproduction] 17-18: Friedrich Nietzsche, excerpts from “Also Sprach Zarathustra,” prose 18: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 19: Władysław Orkan, “The Gods’ Enemy” (“Wróg bogów”), poetry 19: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 19: Tadeusz Miciński, “Farewell” (“Pożegnanie”), poetry 20: “Review of reviews” (“Przegląd przeglądów”) 20: “Chronicle” (“Kronika”) – brief notes and announcements about death of Georges Rodenbach, Jan Stanisławski’s painting 20: Correspondence from the editors

Vol. 3, no. 2 (20 January 1899) Cover: Józef Mehoffer 21-22: Stanisław Przybyszewski, “Androgyne,” prose 23-24, 27: Dagny Przybyszewska, “Sing mir das Lied vom Leben und vom Tode,” “Oh, la tristesse de tout cela, mon âme!...”, “In Questa Tomba Obscura,” prose 23, 24, 27, 28: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignettes 25: Teodor Axentowicz, The Slavic Migration (Wędrówka słowian) [reproduction of painting] 29-30: Ola Hansson, “Edgar Allan Poe,” essay 31-34, 37-38: Gustav Johannes Wied, “Wedding Night” (“Noc ślubna”), play 38: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 35: Wacław Szymanowski, The Burden (Ciężar) [photograph of sculpture] 39: Józef Mehoffer, “Remarks about Art” (“Uwagi o sztuce”), essay 39: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 40: “Review of reviews” (“Przegląd przeglądów”) – Głos, Tygodnik illustrowany, Przegląd polski, Die Zeit, Neue Deutsche Rundschau, Revue blanche, Revue de revues, Kuryer codzienny

Vol. 3, no. 3 (1 February 1899) Cover: Józef Mehoffer 41: Stanisław Brzozowski, “The Lord’s Angel” (“Anioł pański”), poetry 41: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignettes 42: Stanisław Przybyszewski, “Androgyne,” prose 43: Charles Baudelaire, “Destruction” (“Zniszczenie”), poetry, Stanisław Brzozowski (trans.) 43: Paul Verlaine, from “The Book of Wisdom” (z “Księgi mądrości”), poetry, Stanisław Brzozowski (trans.) 43: Józef Mehoffer, Study [reproduction] 44, 47-48: Jiři Kárasek, “Otokar Březina,” essay

297

44, 48: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignettes 45: Józef Mehoffer, study for stained-glass cartoon [reproduction] 49-50: Ewa Łuskina, “With Chinese Ink” (“Chińskim tuszem”), prose 50: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 51-53: Stanisław Lack, “Jiři Kárasek” (“Jerzy Karasek”), essay 53: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 53-54, 57-58: Ola Hansson, “Edgar Allan Poe,” essay 58: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 55: Józef Mehoffer, study, drawing 59: Tadeusz Miciński, “Prayer” (“Modlitwa”), poetry 59: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 60: “Review of reviews” (“Przegląd przeglądów”) – Mercure de France, Neue Deutsche Rundschau, Revue blanche 60: Correspondence from the editors

Vol. 3, no. 4 (15 February 1899) Cover: Józef Mehoffer 61: Vincent de Korab, “The Kinship Between Shadows and Flowers at Dusk” (“Powinowactwo cieni i kwiatów o zmierzchu”), poetry, Stanisław Brzozowski (trans.) 61: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 62-63: Stanisław Przybyszewski, “The Synagogue of Satan” (“Synagoga szatana”), prose 63-64: Artur Górski, “The Poet’s Confession” (“Spowiedź poety”), essay 64: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 65: Józef Mehoffer, study [reproduction] 67: Jan August Kisielewski, “Jura and Jula,” prose 68-69: Maciej Szukiewicz, “Idyll” (“Sielanka”), poetry 69: Stanisław Wyspiański, Sleeping Child (Spiące dziecko) [reproduction] 70-71: Charles Baudelaire, “Levana and Our Ladies of Sorrow” (“Levana i nasze najświętsze panny smutku”) from “Paradis artificiel: Vision d’Oxford,” prose, J.Ż. (trans.) 70, 71: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignettes 72-74: Stanisław Przybyszewski, “On German Literature: Blazing [Fiery]” (“Z literatury niemieckiej: Płomienny”), essay 74: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 74, 77-79: Ola Hansson, “Edgar Allan Poe,” essay 79: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 75: Franciszek Bruzdowicz, In the Woods (W lesie) [reproduction] 80: “Review of reviews” (“Przegląd przeglądów”) – Tygodnik illustrowany, Przegląd polski, Biblioteka warszawska, Slovanský prehled, Moravska revue, Iris 80: Correspondence from the editors

Vol. 3, no. 5 (1 March 1899) Cover: Józef Mehoffer 81: Alfred Mombert, untitled poem, poetry, Stanisław Wyrzykowski (trans.) 81: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette

298

82-84: Tadeusz Miciński, “The Song of Triumphant Love” (“Pieśń tryumfującej miłości”), prose 84: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 85: Józef Mehoffer, Study [reproduction] 87: Ola Hansson, “Barbey d’Aurévilly,” essay 88-91: Jules Barbey d’Aurévilly, “The Hidden Side of a Whist Party” (“Co się kryje za kartami w partyi wista?”), prose 91: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 92-93: Charles Algernon Swinburne, excerpts from “Dolores,” poetry, Antoni Lange (trans.) 93: Józef Mehoffer, Study [reproduction] 94, 97: Paul Adam, “Lucy and Time” (“Łucya i czas”), prose 94, 97: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignettes 95: Józef Mehoffer, Genie (Geniusz) [reproduction] 98: Stanisław Wyrzykowski, “Theater Memoir” (“Pamiętnik teatralny”), essay 99: “Books” (“Książki”), review – M. Zdziechowski’s Byron and his Age (Byron i jego wiek); F. Arnsztajnowa’s Poetry: Series Two (Poezya. Serya druga) 99: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 100: “Review of reviews” (“Przegląd przeglądów”) – Wiener Rundschau, Prawda, Revue des deux mondes 100: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 100: Correspondence from the editors

Vol. 3, no. 6 (15 March 1899) Cover: Józef Mehoffer 101: Zdzisław Dębicki, “The Violin’s Cry” (“Płacz skrzypiec”), poetry 101: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 102-104: Stanisław Przybyszewski, “On ‘New’ Art” (“O ‘nową’ sztukę”), essay 104, 107-109: “Solomon’s Song of Songs” (“Salomona pieśń nad pieśniami”), poetry, Karol Brzozowski (trans.) 109: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 105: Jan Stanisławski, Village Hut (Wiejska chata) [reproduction] 110-112: J.K. Huysmans, “Monstrum,” prose 112-113: Ola Hansson, “Barbey d’Aurévilly,” essay 113-114, 117-118: Jules Barbey d’Aurévilly, “The Hidden Side of a Whist Party” (“Co się kryje za kartami w partyi wista?”), prose 115: Jan Stanisławski, Orchard (Sad) [reproduction] 118: Stanisław Przybyszewski, “Post festum,” essay 119: Stanisław and Wincenty Brzozowski, “Achilles’ Shield” (“Tarcza Achillesa”), “David,” and “Elephants” (“Słonie”), poetry 119: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 120: “Review of reviews” (“Przegląd przeglądów”) – Mercure de France, Revue des revues, Młodość, Biblioteka warszawska 120: Stanisław Przybyszewski, “Declaration” (“Oświadczenie”), editorial statement 120: Correspondence from the editors

299

Vol. 3, no. 7 (1 April 1899) [censored: Gustav Vigeland’s detail of Satan from Hell ] Cover: Józef Mehoffer 121: Vincent de Korab, “The One Who Will Come” (“Która przyjdzie”), poetry 121: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 122: Tadeusz Miciński, “On Spiritual Inheritence” (“O spuściźnie duchowej”), prose 122: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 123-124, 127-129: Jan Kleczyński, “Specter” (“Widziadło”), prose 125: Gustav Vigeland, detail of Hell (Piekło) [photograph of relief] 129: Stanisław Wyspiański, Heluśka, 1898, drawing 130-131: Anotni Lange, “The Jubilee Motif” (“Motyw juliuszowy”), essay 130: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 131-132: Artur Górski, “The Messianic Tone in Słowacki’s Soul” (“Ton messyański w duszy Słowackiego”), essay 132: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 132-135: Jan Kasprowicz, “Dies irae,” poetry 136-137: Ola Hansson, “Barbey d’Aurévilly,” essay 137: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 138-143: Jules Barbey d’Aurévilly, “The Hidden Side of a Whist Party” (“Co się kryje za kartami w partyi wista?”), prose 143: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 143: Maciej Szukiewicz, untitled poem, poetry 144: “Review of reviews” (“Przegląd przeglądów”) – Tygodnik illustrowany, Prawda 144: Correspondence from the editors

Vol. 3, no. 8 (15 April 1899) Cover: Józef Mehoffer Insert: editorial statement, “From the editors” (“Od redakcyi”) [about censorial confiscation] 145: Stanisław Brzozowski, untitled poem, poetry 145: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 146, 149-151: Artur Górski, “The Only One” (“Jedyny”), essay 147: Francisco Goya, etching [reproduction] from Los Proverbios 151: Stanisław Wyspiański, Nastka, drawing 152: Ludwika Jahołkowska-Koszutska, “In tenebris,” prose 152-155: Søren Kierkegaard, “The Seducer’s Diary” (“Dziennik uwodziciela”), essay 155: Stanisław Wyspiański, Study, 1898 [reproduction] 156, 159-160: Tadeusz Miciński, “Słowacki and Calderon in ‘Prince Valiant’” (“Słowacki i Calderon w ‘Xięciu niezłomnym’”), essay 157: Stanisław Wyspiański, two drawings [reproductions] incl. Zeno, 1898 161: St[anisław] W[yrzykowski], “Theater Memoir” (“Pamiętnik teatralny”), essay 161: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 162: “Review of reviews” (“Przegląd przeglądów”) – Moderni revue, Prawda, Krytyka 162: Correspondence from the editors 162: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette

300

Vol. 3, no. 9 (1 May 1899) Cover: Józef Mehoffer 163: José Maria de Heredia, “Antony and Cleopatra,” poetry, Miriam [Zenon Przesmycki] (trans.) 163: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 164-165: Wacław Sieroszewski, “Dawn” (“Brzask”), prose 165: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 166, 169-173: Artur Górski, “The Only One” (“Jedyny”), essay 167: Jan Stanisławski, On the Dnieper (Nad Dnieprem) [reproduction] 173: Jan Nalborczyk, Dagny [photograph of relief sculpture] 174-175: Søren Kierkegaard, “The Seducer’s Diary” (“Dziennik uwodziciela”), essay 176, 179-180: Gustave Flaubert, “The Temptation of St. Anthony” (“Kuszenie Świętego Antoniego”), prose, A. Wrzesień (trans.) 177: Antoni Kamieński, fragment of The Unfinished Work (Niedokończone dzieło) [reproduction] 181-182: Stanisław Lack, “On Recent Poetry” (“Z nowszej poezyi”), essay

Vol. 3, no. 10 (15 May 1899) Cover: Józef Mehoffer 183: Stanisław Brzozowski, untitled sonnet, poetry 183: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 184-185: Wacław Sieroszewski, “Dawn” (“Brzask”), prose 185: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 186: Wojciech Weiss, Frederic Chopin [reproduction of drawing] 186-189: Stanisław Przybyszewski, “The Miracle Hour” (“W godzinie cudu”), prose 189: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 190-192: Jan Kleczyński, “The Sun” (“Słońce”), prose 192: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 192-194: Arnošt Procházka, “Joris Karl Huysmans,” essay 194: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 195-196: W[acław] Moraczewski, “Wasyl Stefanyk”, essay 196-197: Wasyl Stefanyk, “Kasia,” prose, W[acław] Moraczewski (trans.) 197: Stanisław Wyspiański, reproduction of a drawing 198-199: Wasyl Stefanyk, “The News” (“Nowina”), prose, W[acław] Moraczewski (trans.) 198: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 199: František Bílek, Christ on Mount Olive (Chrystus na górze Oliwnej) [reproduction] 200: Charles Baudelaire, “Beauty” (“Piękno”), poetry, Stanisław Brzozowski (trans.) 200: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 200: Edmond Haracourt, from “Seul,” poetry, Stanisław Brzozowski (trans.) 201: Søren Kierkegaard, “The Seducer’s Diary” (“Dziennik uwodziciela”), essay 202: “Review of reviews” (“Przegląd przeglądów”) – Przegląd tygodniowy, Tygodnik ilustrowany, Prawda, Ateneum 202: Correspondence from the editors 202: Stanisł aw Wyspiański, vignette

301

Vol. 3, no. 11 (1 June 1899) Cover: Józef Mehoffer 203: Stanisław Brzozowski, untitled poem, poetry 203: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 204-209: Stanisław Przybyszewski, “In the Miracle Hour” (“W godzinie cudu”), prose 209: vignette [artist not identified] 210-211: Arnošt Procházka, “Joris Karl Huysmans,” essay 211: vignette [artist not identified] 212, 215-218: Jan Kleczyński, “Zosia,” prose 218: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 213: Auguste Rodin, The Shore and the Wave (Brzeg i fala) [photograph of sculpture] 219-221: Søren Kierkegaard, “The Seducer’s Diary” (“Dziennik uwodziciela”), essay 219: Walter Leistikow, vignette; 221: Richard Grimm, vignette 222: “Review of reviews” (“Przegląd przeglądów”) – Tygodnik ilustrowany, Młodość, Die Fackel 222: Richard Grimm, vignette

Vol. 3, no. 12 (5 July 1899) [Last issue with Stanisław Wyspiański as Artistic Director] Cover: Józef Mehoffer 223: editorial statement, “From the Editors” (“Od redakcyi”), essay 224-226: Stanisław Przybyszewski, “In the Miracle Hour” (“W godzinie cudu”), prose 226: Władysław Jarzębski, “The Ray” (“Promień”), poetry 226: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 227: Stanisław Brzozowski, untitled, poetry 227: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignettes 227: Paul Verlaine, “The Good Song” (“Dobra pieśń”), poetry, Stanisław Brzozowski (trans.) 228-231: Gunnar Heiberg, “The Balcony” (“Balkon”), play 231: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 232: Charles Baudelaire, “De Profundis Clamavi,” “The Man and the Sea” (“Człowiek i morze”), “The Cracked Bell” (“Pęknięty dzwon”), poetry, Stanisław Brzozowski (trans.) 233-237: Gustave Flaubert, “The Temptation of St. Anthony” (“Kuszenie Świętego Antoniego”), prose, Antoni Lange (trans.) 237: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignettes 238: “Review of reviews” (“Przegląd przeglądów”) – Biblioteka warszawska 238: Correspondence from the editors

Vol. 3, no. 13/14 (25 July 1899) Cover: Józef Mehoffer Insert: Stanisław Przybyszewski, “Pro Domo Mea,” essay 239: Charles Baudelaire, “To the Reader” (“Do czytelnika”), poetry, Stanisław Brzozowski (trans.) 240-241: Wasyl Stefanyk, “The Master” (“Majster”) and “Bartek’s Family” (“Rodzina Bartka”), prose, W[acław] Moraczewski (trans.) 240: Walter Leistikow, vignette; 241: Richard Grimm, vignette

302

242: Charles Baudelaire, “The Blessing” (“Błogosławieństwo”), poetry, Stanisław Brzozowski (trans.) 242: vignette [artist not identified] 243: Wincenty Brzozowski, “La Maladive,” poetry 243: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 244-245: Artur Górski, “Włodzimierz Tetmajer,” essay 245: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 246-249: Stanisław Lack, “On the Occasion of the 2nd ‘Sztuka’ Exhibition” (“Z powodu II. wystawy ‘Sztuki’”), essay 249: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 250: Stanisław Brzozowski, untitled, poetry 250: Oscar Wilde, “The Pupil” (“Uczeń”), prose 250: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette np: Ludwik Vlastimil Hofman, Appassionata, drawing 251-254: Gunnar Heiberg, “The Balcony” (“Balkon”), play 254: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 255-258, 259: Jan Kasprowicz, “Salome,” poetry 255: vignette [artist not identified]; 259: Richard Grimm, vignette np: Ludwik Vlastimil Hofman, Ballad, drawing 260-261: Franciszek Mirandolla, fragment from “Intervalli Lucidi,” play 261: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 261-269: Søren Kierkegaard, “The Seducer’s Diary” (“Dziennik uwodziciela”), essay 269-270: “Books” (“Książki”), review – Anatole France’s Histoire contemporaine; Hugues Rebell’s La câtlineuse; Rachilde’s La tour d’amour; André Fontainas’ L’ornement de la solitude; H.G. Wells’s Time Machine 270: Correspondence from the editors 270: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette np: Ludwik Vlastimil Hofman, Mourning (Żałoba) [reproduction]

Vol. 3, no. 15/16 (15 August 1899) Cover: Józef Mehoffer 271: Stanisław Wyrzykowski, “The Artist’s Dream” (“Sen twórczy”), poetry 272-294: Stanisław Wyspiański, “The Curse” (“Klątwa”), play 294: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 294, 297-300: Søren Kierkegaard, “The Seducer’s Diary” (“Dziennik uwodziciela”), essay 300: vignette [artist not identified] 295: Walter Crane, illustration for The Faerie Queene 301-304: Jan Kasprowicz, “Holy God! Holy [and] Mighty [One]” (“Święty Boże! Święty Mocny!”), poetry 304: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 305-306: Theresita [Maria Krzymuska-Iwanowska], “Diabolique,” prose 307-308: Gunnar Heiberg, “The Balcony” (“Balkon”), play 308: vignette [artist not identified] 309-310: Jiři Kárasek, “Karel Hlaváček,” essay 310: Raoul Thomen, vignette

303

Vol. 3, no. 17/18 (22 September 1899) Cover: Józef Mehoffer 311: Stanisław Brzozowski, untitled, poetry 311: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 312-313: Stanisław Przybyszewski, fragment from Androgyne, prose 313: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignettes 313: Wincenty Brzozowski, “La Solitaire,” poetry 314-323: Jules Laforgue, “Hamlet or the Consequences of Filial Piety” (“Hamlet czyli następstwa miłości dziecięcej”), prose 314: Felix Vallotton, Jules Laforgue [reproduction of woodcut]; 323: Raoul Thomen, vignette 324: Władysław Jarzębski, “Divine Radiance” (“Boży blask”), poetry 324: Paul Verlaine, from Sagesse, poetry, Stanisław Brzozowski (trans.) 324: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 325: Francisco Goya, Devota profesion [1799, reproduction of etching] 327: Stanisław Wyrzykowski, “Amorosissima,” poetry 327: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 328-329: Ewa Łuskina, “Love’s Possession” (“Opętani miłości”), prose 328: vignette [artist not identified] 330-333: From the Book of Job (Z księgi Hijoba), poetry, Karol Brzozowski (trans.) 333: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 333: Tadeusz Miciński, “Already Dawn” (“Już świt”), poetry 334-336: Dagny Przybyszewska, “When the Sun Sets” (“Kiedy słońce zachodzi”), prose 336: vignette [artist not identified] 337-338: Cezary Jellenta, “Currents. Part 2” (“Nurty. Część 2”) 337, 338: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignettes 338-339: Jerzy Żuławski, excerpts from “Lotos,” poetry 339-348: Søren Kierkegaard, “The Seducer’s Diary” (“Dziennik uwodziciela”), essay 348: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 349-350: Stanisław Lack, “On Theater” (“O teatrze”), essay 350: Raoul Thomen, vignettes

Vol. 3, no. 19/20 (1 October 1899) Cover: Józef Mehoffer 351-356: Stanisław Przybyszewski, “In Honor of the Master” (“Ku czci mistrza”), prose 351: Wojciech Weiss, Fredric Chopin [reproduction of drawing]; 356: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignettes 356: Paweł Klimowicz, fragment of “Sowing Flowers” (“Siejba kwiatów”), poetry 357-358: Stanisław Pieńkowski, “An Open Letter to the Committee for Bringing Słowacki’s Remains to Krakow” (“List otwarty do Komitetu Sprowadzenia Zwłok Słowackiego w Krakowie”), essay 358: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 358: Stanisław Brzozowski, “Last Supper” (“Ostatnia wieczerza”), poetry np: Ludwik Vlastimil Hofman, Meditation (Zaduma) [reproduction] 359: Jan August Kisielewski, “Sonata,” prose

304

359: Stanisław Wyspiański, reproduction of drawing from 1899; 362: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 362-363: Wasyl Stefanyk, “Recruiting” (“W rekruty”) and “The Angel” (“Anioł”), prose, W[acław] Moraczewski (trans.) 363: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 364-373: Maurice Maeterlinck, “Blue Beard and Ariadne” (“Sinobrody i Ariana”), play 373: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette 373-374, 375-378: Søren Kierkegaard, “The Seducer’s Diary” (“Dziennik uwodziciela”), essay 378: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette np: Ludwik Vlastimil Hofman, Libella [reproduction] 378: Władysław Jarzębski, “The Source” (“Źródło”), poetry 379: Charles Baudelaire, “Litany to Satan” (“Litania do Szatana”), poetry, Stanisław Brzozowski (trans.) 379: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignettes 380: Henryk Zbierzchowski, “Bogs” (“Moczary”), poetry 381-382: Stanisław Lack, “Theater” (“Teatr”), essay 382: editorial statement, “From the editors” (“Od wydawnictwa”)

Vol. 3, no. 21/22 (1 December 1899) Cover: Józef Mehoffer Insert: Jan Stanisławski, Dusk (Zmierzch), color lithograph 383: Stanisław Brzozowski, untitled, poetry 383: initial “N” [artist not identified] 384: illustration from a book of old woodcuts (z księgi starych drzeworytów) 384: Stanisław Przybyszewski, “Alfred Mombert,” essay 385-387: Alfred Mombert, untitled excerpts, prose, Stanisław Przybyszewski (trans.) 387: vignette [artist not identified] 388-394: Dagny Przybyszewska, “Sin” (“Grzech”), play 390, 391, 394: vignette (artists?) 395: illustration from a book of old woodcuts (z księgi starych drzeworytów) 395: Charles Baudelaire, “Obsession” (“Opętanie”), poetry, Stanisław Brzozowski (trans.) 396-400: Stanisław Przybyszewski, “De Profundis”, prose 398, 400: vignette [artist not identified] 400-401: Friedrich Nietzsche, excerpts from Thus Spoke Zarathustra, prose, Stanisław Przybyszewski (introduction) 402-404: Włodzimierz Perzyński, untitled, poetry 404: Stanisław Wyspiański, drawing 404-410: Søren Kierkegaard, “The Seducer’s Diary” (“Dziennik uwodziciela”), essay 410: Stanisław Wyspiański, drawing [reproduction] 411: Kazimiera Zawistowska, “Epitaphium,” poetry 411: vignette [artist not identified] 412-413: Stanisław Lack, “Theater” (“Teatr”), essay 413: Stanisław Wyspiański, vignette

305

414: “Books” (“Książki”), review – Władysław Sterling’s Poetry I (Poezye I); Marcelina Kulikowska’s Master Zenon (Mistrz Zenon); Knut Hamsun’s Victoria, Anatole France’s Pierre Nozière; Albert Fleury’s Poèmes 414: ex-libiris [artist not identified] Insert: Index to volume 3

1900

Vol. 4, no. 1 (1 January 1900) [new co-editor: Zenon Przesmycki; Artistic Director: Antoni Procajłowicz; Publishers: Józef Jasieński and Władysław Jaroszewski) Cover: Józef Mehoffer Insert: editorial statement initial “R” [artist not identified]; Richard Grimm, vignette; vignette [artist not identified] 2: Wojciech Weiss, Youth [reproduction] 3-5: Stanisław Przybyszewski, “An Apostrophe to the King-Spirit at the Threshold of the New Century” (“Apostrofa do Króla-Ducha u progu nowego stulecia”), prose 5: Wojciech Weiss, Melancholic [reproduction of painting] 6: Stephane Mallarmé, “Windows” (“Okna”), poetry, Miriam [Zenon Przesmycki] (trans.) 7: Włodzimierz Perzyński, “Judgment” (“Sąd”), poetry 8-10: Stanisław Lack, “Wojciech Weiss,” essay np: Wojciech Weiss, Self-portrait (Portret własny) [reproduction of painting] 11: Wincenty Brzozowski, “A Mme Dagny Przybyszewska,” poetry 12: Albert Mockel, “Nuptial Morning” (“Jutrznia weselna”), poetry, K. Zawistowska (trans.) 13-14: Dagny Przybyszewska, “At Dusk” (“O Zmierzchu”), prose 15: Felicien Rops, Rideau Cramoisi [reproduction of drawing] 16-22: Jules Barbey d’Aurévilly, “The Crimson Curtain” (“Szkarłatna zasłona”), prose np: Wojciech Weiss, Portait of [Artist’s] Parents (Portret rodziców) [reproduction of painting] 22: Maurice Maeterlinck, “Prayer” (“Modlitwa”), poetry, Stanisław Brzozowski (trans.) 23: Girolamo Savonarola, “To the Virgin” (“Do dziewicy”), poetry, Stanisław Brzozowski (trans.) 24-25: Stanisław Witkiewicz, “Art and Life” (“Sztuka i życie”), essay 26: Friedrich Nietzsche, “Once Again and Forever” (“Jeszcze raz po wszystką wieczność”), poetry, Jerzy Żuławski (trans.) 27-38: Stanisław Przybyszewski, “De Profundis,” prose 38: vignette [artist not identified] 27: Wojciech Weiss, Spring (Wiosna) [reproduction of painting] 29: Wojciech Weiss, The Kiss (Pocałunek) [reproduction] 32: Wojciech Weiss, Madness (Szał) [reproduction] np: Jan Stanisławski, St. Mark’s Church (Kościół Św. Marka), five-color lithograph np: Wojciech Weiss, Spring (Wiosna) [reproduction of painting]

306

39-42: Karol Brzozowski, “The Divine Judgment” (“Sąd Boży”), poetry 42: Wojciech Weiss, Study [reproduction] np: Wojciech Weiss, The Dance (Taniec) [reproduction of painting] 43-45: Władysław Orkan, “Night” (“Noc”), play 43: Kasper Żelechowski, portrait of Władysław Orkan [reproduction] 45: Wojciech Weiss, Spring (Wiosna) [reproduction] 46: Jerzy Żuławski, “The Gods’ Theater” (“Teatr bogów”), poetry 46: Stanisław Wyspiański, portrait of Jerzy Żuławski, 1899 [reproduction of drawing] 47: Paul Verlaine, “The Melancholic” (“Smętek”), poetry, Jerzy Żuławski (trans.) 48: “Books” (“Książki”), review – Orsyd’s Too Late (Zapóźno); Władysław Jabłonowski’s In the Gulf of Death (W zatoce śmierci) 48: Bibliography 48: editorial statement, “To the readers”

Vol. 4, no. 2 and 3 (1900) 51: Stanisław Pieńkowski, “Weariness” (“Znużenie”), poetry 53-?: Stanisław Przybyszewski, “For Happiness” (“Dla szczęścia”), play [I did not have access to p. 57-80. Pages 83-85 feature prose that continues from the previous missing pages, which would have identified the story’s title and author.] 86-88: “Books” (“Książki”), review – Stefan Żeromski’s The Homeless (Ludzie bezdomni); Kazimierz Rojan’s Better Times (Lepsze czasy); Andrzej Niemojewski’s Letters of a Madman (Listy człowieka szalonego); Robert Randau’s Les dires de celui, qui passe; Albert Fleury’s Confidences; August Strindberg’s Nach Damascus; H. Rosny’s Chemin d’amour; Henrik Ibsen’s Wenn wir Toten Erwachen 88: Bibliography 88: editorial statement about final issue

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Appendix B

Tables of Contents for Chimera (1901-1907)

This appendix provides the table of contents for every issue of Chimera.

The format is as follows: Page number: author or artist, translated title (title in Polish), genre or medium, translator [if applicable and listed]. Textual illustrations and/or vignettes are indented.

For an alphabetical index of Chimera, see Bąbiak, Bibliografia.

Where an author assumed a pseudonym, I indicate the author’s identity (following Bąbiak’s identifications) in brackets. This appendix is intended to supplement Bąbiak’s index.

1901

Vol. 1, no. 1 (January 1901) Cover: Edward Okuń Insert: Gustave Moreau, Chimera [reproduction of painting] 1: Miriam [Przesmycki], “Obituary for Julius Zeyer” (“Pamięci Juliusza Zeyera”), essay 2-8: Julius Zeyer, “On the Sinai” (“Na Synai”), poetry 9-16: Z[enon] Przesmycki, “The Fate of Geniuses” (“Los Geniuszów”), essay 9: Stanisław Dębicki, initial “U” (tracing from medieval Bible) 17-33: Jan Kasprowicz, “My Evening Song” (“Moja pieśń wieczorna”), poetry 17: Edward Okuń, initial “O”; 18, 20, 22, 23, 24, 32, 33: Edward Okuń, vignette 34-46: Cyprian Norwid, “Ad Leones,” prose 34: Stanisław Dębicki, initial “T”; 46: Edward Okuń, vignette 47-61: “From Danish-Norwegian Folk Poetry” (“Z poezyi ludowej duńsko-norweskiej”), poetry, Edward Porębowicz (trans.): includes Polish translations of “Tor af Havsgaard”, “Elveskud”, and “Hr. Bösmer i Elvehjem” 51, 57, 61: Stanisław Dębicki, vignette 62-91: Stanisław Przybyszewski, Sons of the Earth (“Synowie ziemi”), prose 62, 74, 91: Józef Mehoffer, vignette; 75: Józef Mehoffer, initial “S” 92-93: Jan Lemański, “Regret” (“Żal”), poetry 94: Józef Ruffer, “The Dog” (“Pies”), poetry 95: Józef Ruffer, “Enchanted Treasures” (“Zaklęte skarby”), poetry 96: Leopold Staff, “The Game” (“Gra”), poetry 97: Leopold Staff, “Remembrance” (“Wspomnienie”), poetry 98: Leopold Staff, “The Sculptor” (“Rzeźbiarz”), poetry 99: Kazimiera Zawistowska, “Magdalena”, poetry 100: Kazimiera Zawistowska, “Holy Things” (“Święte”), poetry 101: Henryk Zbierzchowski, “The Forest” (“Las”), poetry

308 102: Henryk Zbierzchowski, “In Autumn” (“Jesienią”), poetry 103-141: Comte de Villiers de l’Isle Adam, Axel, Part I, play, Zenon Przesmyki (trans.) 104: Stanisław Dębicki, initial “C” (tracing from medieval Bible); 132, 141: Stanisław Dębicki, vignette (tracing from 14th c. Libri sententiarium) 142-145: Jan Lemański, “Moral Movement” (“Ruch etyczny”), poetry 146-184: “Monthly Chronicle” (“Kronika miesięczna”): 146-151: Tredecim, “Glosses” (“Glossy”) – “Laurel-ness and darkness” (“Laurowo i ciemno”), essay; “The Case of Reymont” (“Sprawa Reymonta”), essay; “Fałat—Kossak”, essay; “Contests” (“Konkursy”), essay; “Another contest and another protest” (“Jeszcze konkurs i jeszcze protest”), essay 151-157: Miriam [Zenon Przesmycki], “Poetry” (Poezya), review – Maria Komornicka’s Fables and Psalmodies (Baśnie i Psalmodye); Władysław Bukowiński’s New Installment: Poetry (Nowy Zeszyt: Poezye); Zygmunt Rostkowski’s Shattered Chords, A Handful of Rhymes (Stargane struny, rymów garść); Władysław Zalewski’s The Old Man: A lyrical fable (Dziad, baśń liryczna); Mieczysław Gliński’s Poetry (Poezye); Dubowski’s From Our Songs, (Z pieśni naszych), selected and edited by C. Niewiadomska; Easter Egg (Pisanka), anthology edited by Józef Jankowski; M[ikhail] Lermonto[v]’s Demon and The Angel of Death (Anioł śmierci), translated by Alfons Wbrólewski 157-172: Z.P. [Przesmycki], “The Plastic Arts” (“Sztuki plastyczne”) – “A few words about criticism” (“Kilka słów o krytyce”), essay; “Group exhibitions” (“Wystawy zbiorowe”), essay; “Krywult’s Salon” (“Salon Krywulta”), review; “The Society for the Encouragement of Fine Arts” (“Towarzystwo Zachęty Sztuk Pięknych”), essay 172-174: Feliks Jasieński, “Exhibition of Japanese Woodcuts” („Wystawa drzeworytów japońskich”), essay 174-180: Z.P., “Applied Arts” (“Sztuka stosowana”), essay 181-182: “Books Received” – listings for Poetry, Novels, Theater, Literary and Aesthetic Studies, History, Philosophy, Various, Music 182-184 “Varia” – Brief notes about the first issue; Julius Zeyer’s funeral; Arnold Böcklin; Gustave Moreau’s Chimera; decadence 184: Józef Mehoffer, vignette Back page: technical and pricing information; Periodicals received – Ateneum (Warsaw), no. 1; Moderni Revue (Prague), no. 1-4; Tygodnik Illustrowany (Warsaw), no. 1-4; Wiadomości Artystyczne (Lwów), no. 1-7

Vol. 1, no. 2 (February 1901) Cover: Józef Mehoffer Insert: Jan Stanisławski, St. Mark’s Church, lithograph 185-193: “Letter to Walenty Pomian Z.” (“List do Walentego Pomiana Z”), poetry 194-224: Stanisław Przybyszewski, Sons of the Earth (“Synowie ziemi”) (continuation), prose 194: Józef Mehoffer, initial “S”; 202: Józef Mehoffer, initial “H”; 201, 213, 214, 224: Józef Mehoffer, vignette 225-238: “From Danish-Norwegian Folk Poetry” (“Z poezyi ludowej duńsko- norweskiej”), poetry, Edward Porębowicz (trans.): includes Polish translations of

309

“Lindormen,” “Ridderens Runeslaet,” “Kjeld Rune og Havfruen,” “Mö in Ulveham,” “To Sosteren” 227, 231, 233, 236, 238: Stanisław Dębicki, vignette 239-285: Comte de Villiers de l’Isle Adam, Axel, Part II, play, Zenon Przesmyki (trans.) 239: Stanisław Dębicki, initial “A” (tracing from medieval Bible); 270, 285: Stanisław Dębicki, vignette (tracing from 14th c. Libri sententiarium) 286-288: Józef Rozprza-Krobicki, “Three Verses” (“Trzy Strofy”), poetry 286: Stanisław Turbia-Krzyształowicz, vignette 289-292: Bolesław Leśmian, “Enchanted Garden” (“Ogród zaklęty”), poetry 289: Jan Stanisławski, vignette 293-294: Edward Leszczyński, “Prayer to the Soul” (“Modlitwa do duszy”), poetry 293: Józef Mehoffer, initial “P” 294-295: Edward Leszczyński, “She will come” (“Przyjdzie”), poetry 296-7: Włodzimierz Perzyński, “The Lord’s Angel” (“Anioł Pański”), poetry 296: Stanisław Dębicki, vignette 297-298: Włodzimierz Perzyński, “Dawn” (“Brzask”), poetry 298: Stanisław Dębicki, vignette 299-306: Johannes Schlaf, “Song” (“Pieśń”), prose, Przybyszewski (trans.) 299: Gustav Klimt, initial “C”; 306: Franciszek Siedlecki, vignette 307-312: Albert Girault, “Fantastic Rondels” (“Rondele fantastyczne”), poetry, Miriam (trans.) – includes “Moondrunk” (“Upojenie księżycem”), “Decapitation” (“Ścięcie”), “Pierrot, the Thief” (“Pierrot złodziejem”), “Song of the Gallows” (“Piosnka o szubienicy”), “The Moon Violin” (“Skrzypce księżycowe”), “Czech Crystal” (“Kryształ czeski”) 313-334: Zenon Przesmycki, “A Battle with Art” (“Walka ze sztuką”), essay 313: Stanisław Dębicki, initial “U” (tracing from medieval Bible) 335-339: Jan Lemański, “The Ox and Crane” (“Wół i Źóraw”), poetry 340-366: “Monthly Chronicle” (“Kronika miesięczna”): 340-345: Tredecim, “Glosses” (“Glossy”) – “Critics and reviewers” (“Krytycy i recenzenci”), essay; “Paper Medals” (“Medale papierowe”), essay; “The Hypnotized Public” (“Zahipnotyzowana publiczność”), essay 345-350: Miriam, “Poetry” (Poezya), review – Antoni Lange’s Fragment (Fragmenta); G. Daniłowski’s On the Island (Na wyspie); Fr. Mirandolla’s Lyrics (Liryki); Leopold Staff’s Dreams of Power (Sny o potędze); Emef’s [M.F.] Ecstasy (Szał); Emde’s [M.D.] Symphony for Her (Symfonia: Do niej) 350-353: Z.P., “The Plastic Arts” (“Sztuki plastyczne”) – “Aleksander Gierymski”, obituary; “Exhibitions” (“Wystawy”), review [TZSP and Krywult]; 354-356: Feliks Jasieński, “The question of small misunderstanding” (“W kwestyi drobnego nieporozumienia”), essay 356-358: “Books Received” – listings for Poetry, Novels, Theater, Literary and Aesthetic Studies, History, Heraldic studies, Philosophy, Archeology, Plastic Arts, Geography, Pedagogy, Various, Periodicals, Foreign literature, Translations 358-360: “Periodicals Received” – Ateneum (Warsaw), Feb. 1901; Biblioteka Warszawska (Warsaw), Feb. 1901; Czasopis Musea Kralovstvi Czeskeho (Prague), no. 1; Die Insel (Berlin), March 1901; Moderni Revue (Prague), Feb. 1901; Przegląd Filozoficzny (Warsaw), no. 1, 1901; La Rassegna Internazionale

310

(Florence), March 1901; Slovansky Przehled (Prague), March 1901; Tygodnik Illustrowany (Warsaw), no. 5-8; Wiadomości Artystyczne (Lwów), no. 8-12; Wisła (Warsaw), no. 1, 1901; Żivot (Zagreb), Feb. 1901 360-366: “Varia” – Brief notes about the exhibitions of the Chimera salons; Ramon de Campoamor; memorial for Arthur Rimbaud; Asnyk’s library; Jasieński’s book Manggha; the contest of the Scientific-Literary Association in Lwow; the Committee of the Society of the Encouragement of Fine Arts; Special edition of Chimera; Stanisławski’s five-color lithograph; upcoming issue 366: Józef Mehoffer, vignette

Vol. 1, no. 3 (March 1901) Cover: Edward Okuń Inserts: [Kitagawa] Utamoro, Woman with a mirror; [Utagawa] Kuniyoshi, A Game of Stakes [reproductions] 367-389: Samuel Taylor Coleridge, “The Rime of the Ancient Mariner” (“Pieśń o starym żeglarzu”), poetry, Jan Kasprowicz (trans.) 367, 389: [Katsushika] Hokusai, vignette 391-420: Stanisław Przybyszewski, Sons of the Earth (“Synowie ziemi”), prose 390: Józef Mehoffer, initial “H”; 402: Józef Mehoffer, inital “S”; 411: Józef Mehoffer, inital “P”; 401, 410, 411, 420: Józef Mehoffer, vignette 421-425: Józef Ruffer, “On the Sun” (“O słońcu”), poetry 426-486: Comte de Villiers de l’Isle Adam, Axel, Part II (continuation), play, Zenon Przesmyki (trans.) 486: Stanisław Dębicki, vignette (tracing from 14th c. Libri sententiarium) 487-489: Marya Komornicka, “Giving thanks” (“Dziękczynienie”), prose 487: Stanisław Dębicki, initial “O” (tracing from medieval Bible); 489: [Ogata] Korin, vignette 490-531: Zenon Przesmycki, “Japanese Woodcuts” (“Dzeworyt japoński”), essay 490: Stanisław Dębicki, initial “B”; 492, 493, 494, 505 (top), 512, 521: [Kikuchi] Yosai, vignette; 494 (bottom), 509, 517, 527: [Katsushika] Hokusai; 496, 498, 515: [Ogata] Korin, vignette; 501: [Katsukawa] Shunsho, vignette; 507: [Ando] Hiroshige 532-534: “Fables” (“Bajeczki”), Jan Lemański, prose 535-550: Monthly Chronicle” (“Kronika miesięczna”): 535-539: Tredecim, “Glosses” (“Glossy”) – “The Foundation of Count M. Tyszkiewicz” (Fundacya hr. M. Tyszkiewicza), essay; “Like a herd of sheep” (“Owcze pędy”), essay 539-542: Z.P., “The Plastic Arts” (“Sztuki plastyczne”) – “Salons” (“Salony”), review; “Our exhibitions” (“Nasze wystawy”), essay 542-545: Feliks Jasieński, “Architecture” (“Architektura”) - about the Church of the Savior (kościół Zbawiciela), essay 545-546: “Books Received” – listings for Poetry, Novels, Literary and Aesthetic Studies, History, Philosophy, Graphic Arts, Various 546-547: “Periodicals Received” – Ateneum (Warsaw), March 1901; Biblioteka Warszawska (Warsaw), March 1901; Cahiers Mensuels (Paris), Jan.-Feb. 1901; Die Insel (Berlin), April 1901; Moderni Revue (Prague), March 1901; Obzor

311

Literarni a Umielecky (Prague), April 1901; Slovansky Przehled (Prague), April 1901; Tygodnik Illustrowany (Warsaw), no. 9-12; Wiener Rundschau (Vienna), March 1901, no. 5-6; Wisła (Warsaw), no. 2, 1901; Zvon (Prague), March 1901; Żivot (Zagreb), March 1901 547-550: “Varia” – Brief notes about artists letters, Chimera exhibitions, upcoming double issue of Chimera 549: Józef Mehoffer, vignette 550: obituary for Stanisław Brzozowski (secretary for Chimera) 550: Maryan Wawrzeniecki, vignette 551-554: Index to volume I 551: Maryan Wawrzeniecki, vignette; 554: Jan Stanisławski, vignette

Vol. 2, nos. 4/5 (April/May 1901) Cover: Edward Okuń Inserts: Franciszek Bilek, Bust of J. Zeyer, lithograph; Wyspiański, Apollo, lithograph 1-11: Juliusz Słowacki, unpublished versions from King Spirit (Król Duch), poetry, Edward Porębowicz (editor) 1: T. Noskowski, initial “J”; 6, 9, 11: Maryan Wawrzeniecki, vignettes 12-51: Friedrich Nietzsche, “What is Noble?” (“The Noble Soul” – “Dusza dostojna”), prose, Stanisław Wyrzykowski (trans.) 12, 51: Maryan Wawrzeniecki, vignette 52-74: Jan Kasprowicz, “Salve Regina,” poetry 52: Edward Okuń, initial “Z”; 52, 53, 54, 55, 58, 59, 60, 62, 63, 65, 66, 67, 68, 73, 74: Edward Okuń, vignette 75-143: Comte de Villiers de l’Isle Adam, Axel, Part III, play, Zenon Przesmyki (trans.) 75: Stanisław Dębicki, initial “T” (tracing from 13th c. Latin Bible); 94, 98, 133, 143: Stanisław Dębicki, vignette tracings from 14th c. Libri sententiarum; 99: Stanisław Dębicki, initial “P” (tracing from 13th c. Latin Bible) 144-146: “Appendix” to Axel 147-155: Stanisław Brzozowski, selected works (Z utworów St. Brzozowskiego), poetry 147, 155: Maryan Wawrzeniecki, vignette 156-165: Włodzimierz Garszyn, “Attalea princeps,” prose, J.L. [Jan Lorentowicz] (trans.) 156, 165: Korin, vignette 166: Stanisław Barącz, “The Solar Eclipse during Battle of the Ancients” (“Zaćmienie słońca podczas boju starożytnych”), poetry 167: Campanella [Henryk Salz], “The Vision” (“Wizya”), poetry 168: Jan Lemański, “The Wall” (“Mur”), poetry 169: Kazimierz Lubecki, “From the Cycle: Souls” (“Z cyklu: Dusze”), poetry 170: Władysław Nawrocki, “The Blade” (“Klinga”), poetry 171: Bronisława Ostrowska, “***”, poetry 172: Leopold Staff, “The Victor” (“Zwycięzca”), poetry 173: Mamert Wikszemski, “Madness overcome [us]…” (“Opętał szał...”), poetry 174: Stanisław Wyrzykowski, “The Letter” (“List”), poetry 175: Kazimiera Zawistowska, “When will you come?” (“Kiedy przyjdziesz?”), poetry 176: Henryk Zbierzchowski, “The Grotto” (“Grota”), poetry

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177: Maryan Zbrowski, “The Heart” (“Serce”), poetry 178-216: Wacław Berent, Rotten Wood (“Próchno”), prose 178: Jan Stanisławski, initial “N”; 186, 188, 190, 211: Stanisław Dębicki, vignette; 197, 216: Konrad Krzyżanowski, vignette 217-267: Miriam [Zenon Przesmycki], “Jean Arthur Rimbaud (“Jan Artur Rimbaud”), essay 217: Edward Okuń, initial “B”; 267: Felix Valloton, Portrait of Rimbaud [reproduction of woodcut] 268-287: Stanisław Przybyszewski, Sons of the Earth (“Synowie ziemi”), prose 268: Józef Mehoffer, vignette; 280: Stanisław Turbia-Krzyształowicz, initial “S” 288-302: John Keats, “Hyperion” (Book I), poetry, Jan Kasprowicz (trans.) 288: Hiroshige, vignette; 302: Maryan Wawrzeniecki, vignette 303-308: Zdisław Dębicki, “Eyes” (“Oczy”, 303-304) “Hair” (“Włosy”, 305-306) “Mouth” (“Usta”, 307-308), prose 303: Gustav Klimt, intial “C”; 305: T. Noskowski, initial “W”; 307: Stanisław Turbia-Krzyształowicz, initial “K” 309-312: Jan Lemański, “Waterlily (“Lilia wodna”), poetry 313-360: “Monthly Chronicle” (“Kronika miesięczna”): 313-318: Tredecim, “Glosses” (“Glossy”) – “Book Tarrifs” (“Cło od książek”), essay; “The Infallible Ones” (“Nieomylni”), essay 318-325: Miriam [Przesmycki], “Poetry” (“Poezya”), review – Marya Konopnicka’s Italia, Ada Negri’s Misfortune (Niedola) and Storms (Burze), L. Ariosto’s The Madness of Orland (Orland oszalały) 325-335: Kazimierz Broniewski, “Art of Old” (“Sztuka Dawna”), exhibition review 335-350: Feliks Jasieński, “Music” (“Muzyka”), essay - introductory remarks about musical movements in the first part of the year 351: “Books Received” – listings for Poetry, Novels, Theater, Literary Studies, History, Heraldic studies, Archeology, Folk Decoration, Travel Diaries, Various 351-356: “Periodicals Received” – Ateneum (Warsaw), April-June 1901; Biblioteka Warszawska (Warsaw), April-July 1901; Czasopis Musea Kralovstvi Czeskeho (Prague), no. 2 and 3, 1901; Cahiers mensuels (Paris), March-April, 1901; Die Insel (Berlin), May-July 1901; Krytyka (Lwów), July 1901; Książka (Warsaw), June-July, 1901; Das Litterarische Echo (Berlin), June-July 1901; Mercure de France (Paris), May-July 1901; Moderni revue (Prague), April-May, July-August 1901; Przegląd filozoficzny (Warsaw), no. 2, 1901; Przewodnik naukowy i literacki (Lwów), March-June 1901; La Ressegna Internazionale (Florence), May-June 1901; La revue d’art dramatique (Paris), May-June 1901; La revue du bien (Paris), no. 3, July 1901; La revue naturiste (Paris), no. 30, May 1901; Revue de la Renaissance (Paris), May-June 1901; Slovansky przehled (Prague), May-July 1901; Tygodnik illustrowany (Warsaw), nos. 13-29, 1901; Wiadomości artystyczne (Lwów), nos. 1-5, April-June 1901; Wiener Rundschau (Vienna), no. 8-14, 1901; Wisła (Warsaw), May-June 1901; Die Zeit (Vienna), June-July 1901 356-360: “Varia” – brief essays and notes – “The Applied Arts,” “Art and society,” “The works of Juliusz Zeyer,” “The Memorial for Rimbaud,”

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“Krywult’s Salon of Fine Arts,” “J. Bukowski’s and W. Tetmajer’s School of Art,” “A Genius Artist,” “The Opening of the Łódź Playhouse,” “Our exhibitions,” “Two artistic inserts” 360: Józef Mehoffer, vignette

Vol. 2, no. 6 (June 1901) Cover: Maryan Wawrzeniecki Insert: Aleksander Gierymski, Maximilian Plaza in Munich (Plac Maksymiliana w Monachium), lithograph of the original painting 361-397: Ramon de Campoamor, “El licenciado Torralba” (“Licenyat Torralba”), preface and part I, Antoni Lange (trans. and introduction) 365: Edward Okuń, intial “P”; 369: Edward Okuń, initial “T”; 375: Edward Okuń, initial “N” 382: Edward Okuń, initial “Z”; 388: Edward Okuń, initial “S” 398-435: Wacław Berent, Rotten Wood (“Próchno”), prose 398: Stanisław Turbia-Krzyształowicz, initial “B”; 405, 427: Stanisław Dębicki, vignette; 413: Jan Stanisławski, vignette; 414: T. Noskowski, initial “K”; 419: vignette [artist not identified]; 435: Hokusai, vignette 436-445: Leopold Staff, “Songs of the Mad” (“Pieśni szaleńca”), poetry 436: Stanisław Dębicki, initial “P”; 445: Koloman Moser, vignette 446-460: Władysław Stanisław Reymont, “Komurasaki,” prose 446: Stanisław Dębicki, title vignette; 447, 448, 449, 450, 451, 452, 453, 455, 456, 457, 458, 459, 460: Hokusai, vignette 461-462: Henryk Ochenkowski, “Calm” (“Spokój”), poetry 463-497: Christian Dietrich Grabbe, “Jest, Satire, Irony and Deeper Significance” (“Żart, satyra, ironia i głębsze znaczenie”), A comedy in three acts, play, Wacław Berent (trans.) 464: Stanisław Dębicki, vignette (tracing from 14th c. Libri sentetiarum); 497: drawing from old French manuscript 498-501: Jan Lemański, “Nocturne” (“Nokturn”), poetry 501: Felicien Rops, Hors d’insulte, vignette [reproduction] 502-520: “Monthly Chronicle” (“Kronika miesięczna”): 502-503: Tredecim, “Glosses” (“Glossy”) – “Masterpiece of the future” (“Arcydzieło przyszłości”) 503-510: Z[enon] P[rzesmycki], “Theater” (“Teatr”) – “Reform of Warsaw Theaters” (“Reforma teatrów warszawskich”), essay 510-511: “Books Received” – listings for Poetry, Novels, Literary and Artistic Studies, History, Heraldic studies, Plastic Arts, Philosophy, Various 511-515: “Periodicals Received” – Biblioteka Warszawska (Warsaw), August- October 1901; Czasopis Musea Kralovstvi Czeskeho (Prague), no. 4, 1901; Die Insel (Munich), August-September 1901; Krytyka (Lwów), August-September 1901; Książka (Warsaw), August-September 1901; Das Litterarische Echo (Berlin), nos. 21-24, III Jahr and no. 1, IV Jahr, 1901; Lumir (Prague), 41-46, 1901; Mercure de France (Paris), August-October 1901; Moderni revue (Prague), September 1901; Novy Život (Novy Jicin), 1-7, 1901; The Outlook (London), nos.179-192, 1901; Przegląd filozoficzny (Warsaw), no. 3, 1901; Przewodnik naukowy i literacki (Lwów), July-August 1901; La Ressegna Internazionale (Florence), July-September 1901; The Review of Reviews

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(London), 15 January – 15 August 1901; La revue d’art dramatique (Paris), July- September 1901; La revue du bien (Paris), August-October 1901; Revista Naturista (Rio de Janeiro), II-vol. 1-I, 1901; Srdce (Žamberk), September 1901; The Spectator (London), nos.3817-3821, 1901; Tygodnik illustrowany (Warsaw), nos. 30-41, 1901; Wiener Rundschau (Vienna), nos. 15-17, 1901; Wisła (Warsaw), July-August 1901; Die Zeit (Vienna), nos. 355-366, 1901; Zvon (Prague), nos. 13-26, 1901 515-520: “Varia” – letter from Maryan Wawrzeniecki; brief essays and notes – jubilee, Płock cathedral, eulogy for Feliks Jezierski, about Christian Dietrich Grabbe, about satire of Stanisław Kozłowski, response to P. Choiński’s criticism, erratum, closing of vol. 2 523-526: Index to vol. 2 523, 526: Maryan Wawrzeniecki, vignette

Vol. 3, nos. 7/8 (July/August 1901) Cover: Stanisław Dębicki Inserts: Stanisławski, Topole, lithograph; Felicien Rops, The Great Lyre (Wielka lira) [reproduction] 1-40: Ramon de Campoamor, “El licenciado Torralba” (“Licencyat Torralba”), Part II, poetry, Antoni Lange (trans.) 1: Edward Okuń, initial “Z”; 10: Edward Okuń, initial “P”; 17: Edward Okuń, initial “J”; 29: Edward Okuń, initial “K” 41-102: Christian Dietrich Grabbe, “Jest, Satire, Irony and Deeper Significance” (“Żart, satyra, ironia i głębsze znaczenie”), play, Wacław Berent (trans.) 41, 69, 70: Stanisław Dębicki, vignette (tracing from 14th c. Libri sententiarium); 102: Stanisław Dębicki, tracing from French manuscript 103-122: Jan Kasprowicz, “Hymn of St. Francis of Assisi” (“Hymn św. Franciszka Assyżu”), poetry 103, 104, 107, 113, 114, 117, 120, 122: Maryan Wawrzeniecki, vignette 123-220: Wacław Berent, Rotten Wood (“Próchno”), prose 123: Stanisław Turbia-Krzyształowicz, initial “A”; 125, 128, 135, 137, 140, 148, 154, 159, 165, 170, 174, 177, 179, 180, 183, 186, 200, 204, 207, 210, 213, 220: Stanisław Turbia-Krzyształowicz, vignette; 138: Stanisław Turbia- Krzyształowicz, initial “Z”; 149: Stanisław Turbia-Krzyształowicz, initial “S”; 166: Stanisław Turbia-Krzyształowicz, initial “D”; 175: Stanisław Turbia- Krzyształowicz, initial “M”; 205: Stanisław Turbia-Krzyształowicz, initial “W” [page numbers skip from 189 to 200 – no text is missing] 221-228: Stanisław Wyrzykowski, “Winged Fires” (“Skrzydlate ognie”), poetry 221: Maryan Wawrzeniecki, vignette; 228: Stanisław Dębicki, vignette 229-254: Marcel Schwob, “The Children’s Crusade” (“Krucyata dziecięca”), prose, Zenon Przesmycki (Miriam) (trans.) 230, 233, 236, 241, 244, 246, 249, 251: Maryan Wawrzeniecki, initial “O” 255-270: John Keats, “Hyperion” (Book II), poetry, Jan Kasprowicz (trans.) 255: Hiroshige, vignette; 270: Maryan Wawrzeniecki, vignette 271-285: From the works of Vasyl Stefanyk (Z utworów Wasyla Stefanyka) – “Grandfather” (“Dziadek”), “Death” (“Skon”), “The Gray Hour” (“Szara godzina”),

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Michał Moczulski (trans.); “The Road” (“Droga”), “The Harbingers” (“Zwiastuny”), Dr. W.M. (trans.) 271, 285: W. Matlakowski, vignette from folk motifs 286-299: Jan Lemański, “The Society” (“Towarzystwo”), poetry 286: Stanisław Dębicki, initial P” (tracing from 1389 Biblia Sacra) 300-330: “Monthly Chronicle” (“Kronika miesięczna”): 300-312: Tredecim, “Glosses” (“Glossy”) – “Nadsceny”, essay; “Calvaries of Art” (“Kalwarye sztuki”), essay 312-318: Miriam [Przesmycki], “The Novel (“Powieść”), essay 318-323: Z[enon] P[rzesmycki], “Theater” (“Teatr”), essay 323-327: #, “Music” (“Muzyka”), essay – the Warsaw Philharmonic and general remarks 327-328: “Books received” – listings for Poetry, Novels, Theater, Literary and Aesthetic Studies, History, Memoirs, Heraldic studies, Philosophy, Guidebooks, Anthologies, Various 328-330: “Periodicals Received” –Biblioteka Warszawska (Warsaw), Nov., Dec. 1901; La Critique Indépendante (Paris), Oct. 1901; La Grande Revue (Paris), Nov. 1901; Hrvatska Misao (Zagreb); Krytyka (Krakow), Oct.-Dec. 1901; Książka (Warsaw), Oct.-Dec. 1901; Das Litterarische Echo (Berlin), vol 4, no. 2- 6, Lumir (Prague), 30, 1-8; Il Marzocco (Florence), no.1-2, 1902 330: “Varia” – Brief notes about issue no.9 and 10/11/12, erratum, end of Chimera exhibitions 330: Józef Mehoffer, vignette

Vol. 3, no. 9 (September 1901) Cover: Konrad Krzyżanowski Insert: Aubrey Beardsley, The Return of Tannhauser to Venusberg (Powrót Tannhäusera na Venusberg) [reproduction, printed reversed] 331-338: Marya Markowska, “Indian Summer” (“Babie lato”), poetry 331: Józef Mehoffer, initial “S”; 338: Edward Okuń, vignette 339-377: Wacław Berent, Rotten Wood (“Próchno”), prose 339: Stanisław Turbia-Krzyształowicz, initial “W”; 342, 347, 348, 351, 353, 360, 363, 365, 370, 374,375, 377: Stanisław Turbia-Krzyształowicz, vignettes; 361: Stanisław Turbia-Krzyształowicz, initial “J” 378-393: Theodore de Banville, Selected poems including “La vie et la mort” (“Życie i śmierć”) from Les Cariatides; two fragments from Les Stalactites; “Le saut du tremplin” (“Skok z trampoliny”) from Odes Funambulesques; “L’exil des dieux” (“Wyganie Bogów”) from Les Exiles; poetry, Miriam [Przesmycki] (trans.) 378: initial “U” from old woodcut; 382: initial “A” from old woodcut; 383: initial “P” from old woodcut; 384: initial “C” from old woodcut; 387: initial “B” from old woodcut 394-396: Stanisław Wyrzykowski, ‘Έσπερε πάντα ψέρεις, prose 394: K. Niemczykiewicz, initial “O” (tracing from Biblia Sacra of 1389) 397-398: “Prayer before Action” (“Modlitwa przed czynem”), fragment, poetry 397: initial “O” from 16th c. French manuscript

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399-432: André Gide, “Philoctète ou le traité des trois morales” (Filoktet czyli traktat o trzech moralnościach”), play, Zenon Przesmycki (trans.) 399, 432: Edward Okuń, vignette 433-434: Władysław Sterling, sonnets, “Moments” (“Chwile”), “Treasures (“Skarby”), poetry 435-439: Zygmunt Bytkowski, “The Prophet” (“Prorok”), prose 440-443: Władysław Nawrocki, “Wanda,” “Ludgarda,” “Jan Olbracht,” “Zygmunt August” from Royal Sonnets (“Royal Sonnets”), poetry 444-454: Arnold Böcklin, “Confessions” (“Wyznania”), prose, Maryan Wawrzeniecki (trans.) 455-459: Henryk Zbierzchowski, “Feconditas,” “Willows in the Field” (“Wierzby w polu”) “When the Dew Drops Fall” (“Kiedy rosy spadną”), “And the Grey Evening Hours Has Come” (“I przyszła szara wieczorna godzina”), “Prayer to the Soul” (“Modlitwa do duszy”), poetry 460-471: Marya Zawiejska, “Fragments” (“Fragmenty”), prose 460: Josef Maria Auchentaller, vignette; 471: Konrad Krzysztołowicz, vignette 472-476: Kazimierz Wroczyński, strophes, “Paean,” “Sappho’s Strophe” (Strofa Safony), “Stornelle, “Autumn” (“Jesień”), “Doubt” (“Zwątpienie”), poetry 477-490:“Monthly Chronicle” (“Kronika miesięczna”): 477-482: Tredecim, “Glosses” (“Glossy”) – “Battle about Snobs” (“Walka o snobów”), essay 482-484: Z.P. [Przesmycki], “The Plastic Arts” (“Sztuki plastyczne”), essay 484-485: “Books received” – listings for Poetry, Novels, Theater, Literary and Aesthetic Studies, History, Memoirs, Heraldic studies, Philosophy, Travel diaries, Anthologies, Various 485-487 : Mercure de France (Paris), November-December 1901; Moderni revue (Prague), October-December 1901; The Outlook (London), nos. 193-204, 1901; Przegląd filozoficzny (Warsaw), vol. 4, no. 4, 1901; La Ressegna Internazionale (Florence), October- December 1901; The Review of Reviews (London), September-December 1901; La revue du bien (Paris), November-December 1901; Revue franco-italienne et du monde latin (Naples), December 1901; Srdce (Žamberk), October 1901; Slovansky przehled (Prague), October-December 1901; The Spectator (London), nos. 3827-3835, 1901; Tygodnik illustrowany (Warsaw), nos. 42-52, 1901; Wisła (Warsaw), September-October 1901; Zvon (Prague), October-December, nos. 1-7, 1901 487-489: “Varia” – “‘The Old, Barbaric Japan…’”, essay 490: eulogy for Kazimiera Zawistowska (née Jasieńska) 491-494: Index for vol. 3 491, 494: Józef Mehoffer, vignette

Vol. 4, Nos. 10/12 (October – December 1901) Cover: Mikołaj Wisznicki Inserts: Albrecht Dürer, “two drawings from The Apocalypse” [reproductions]; Jan Stanisławski, Villa d’Este, five-color lithograph, reproduced at A. Przyszyński, Krakow 1-36: Cyprian Kamil Norwid, “Wanda,” play

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1, 5, 7, 8, 10, 11, 15, 16, 24, 25, 28, 29, 36: Maryan Wawrzeniecki, vignettes based on ornamental motifs collected from prehistoric ceramics, buildings, and wooded implements 37-110: André Gide, “Prometheus Misbound” (“Promoteusz źle spętany”), prose, I.N. (trans.) 37, 92, 94, 104: initial “O” from old woodcut; 39, 48, 65, 85, 98: initial “N” from old woodcut; 45, 74: initial “M” from old woodcut; 54, 101: initial “U” from old woodcut; 58, 96: initial “T” from old woodcut; 61, 72, 83: initial “C” from old woodcut; 67, 88: initial “P” from old woodcut; 70, 97: initial “S” from old woodcut; 76, 108: initial “D” from old woodcut; 78: initial “G” from old woodcut 111-130: “Scottish and English Ballads” (“Ballady szkockie i angielskie”), poetry, Edward Porębowicz (trans.): 111-121: Thomas Percy, “The Ancient Ballad of Chevychase” (“Stara Ballada o łowach w Czewiocie”) 111: Maryan Wawrzeniecki, intial “P” in the Anglosaxon style; 115, 121: Maryan Wawrzeniecki, vignette in the Anglosaxon style; 116: 111: Maryan Wawrzeniecki, intial “A” in the Anglosaxon style 122-124: Thomas Percy, “Sweet William’s Ghost” (“Duch lubego Williama”) 122: Maryan Wawrzeniecki, intial “P” in the Anglosaxon style; 124: Maryan Wawrzeniecki, vignette in the Anglosaxon style 125-127: Francis James Child, “The Bonny Hind” (“Piękna łani”) 125: Maryan Wawrzeniecki, intial “C” in the Anglosaxon style; 127: Maryan Wawrzeniecki, vignette in the Anglosaxon style 128-130: Francis James Child, “Sir Patrick Spence” 128: Maryan Wawrzeniecki, intial “K” in the Anglosaxon style; 130: Maryan Wawrzeniecki, vignette in the Anglosaxon style 131-142: Tadeusz Miciński, “The History of Two Lovers and Mrs. Hoan-tho” (“Historya dwojga kochanków i pani Hoan-tho”), prose 131: Stanisław Dębicki, initial “P” 143-163: Jan Kasprowicz, “Judas” (“Judasz”), poetry 143, 145, 148, 150, 155, 162, 163: Edward Okuń, vignette; 143: Edward Okuń, initial “C” 164-186: Marya Komornicka, “Black Flames” (“Czarne płomienie”), prose 164: Koloman Moser, vignette; 186: Shiokoku, vignette 187: Fernand Khnopff, title page vignette 188-215: Georges Rodenbach, selections from Le Règne du Silence (188-201) and Les Vies encloses (202-215) (Z cyklu: “Królestwo Milczenia” i z cyklu: “Życie zamknięte”), poetry, El-ka [Ludwika Kalenkiewicz] (trans.) 215: Fernand Khnopff, vignette 216-368: Wacław Berent, Rotten Wood (“Próchno”), prose 216: Stanisław Turbia-Krzyształowicz, initial “P”; 218, 221, 233, 236, 237, 238, 243, 246, 247, 251, 252, 255, 259, 262, 267, 272, 278, 283, 287, 288, 293, 295, 297, 301, 303, 305, 307, 308, 311, 315, 320, 324, 330, 333, 335, 341, 348, 351, 356, 360, 363, 365, 367, 368: Stanisław Turbia-Krzyształowicz, vignette; 239: Stanisław Turbia-Krzyształowicz, initial “D”; 253: Stanisław Turbia- Krzyształowicz, initial “M”; 273: Stanisław Turbia-Krzyształowicz, initial “R”;

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289: Stanisław Dębicki, initial “O” (medieval tracing); 292: from old woodcut; 309, 357: Stanisław Turbia-Krzyształowicz, initial “N”; 334: Stanisław Turbia- Krzyształowicz, initial “G” 369-379: Józef Jedlicz, “Dreams and Longings” (“Sny i tęsknoty”), poetry 369, 379: Edward Okuń, vignette 380-387: Otokar Brezina, “The Mysterious in Art” (“Tajemnicze w sztuce”), essay, Zenon Przesmycki (trans.) 380: Mikołaj Wisznicki, vignette; 387: Auguste Donnay, vignette 388-391: Marya Komornicka, “Tomorrow” (“Nazajutrz”), poetry 391: Hokusai, vignette 392-394: Tadeusz Miciński, “Minotaur,” poetry 392: Maryan Wawrzeniecki, vignette 395-397: Leopold Staff, “Fall weather” (“Pogoda jesiennia”), poetry 395: Shiokoku, vignette 398-399: Kazimiera Zawistowska, “In the Fall Night” (“Jesiennią nocą”), poetry 399: Korin, vignette 400-402: Henryk Zbierzchowski, “Unleashed gale” (“Wicher rospętony”), poetry 402: Franciszek Siedlecki, vignette 403-405: Marjan Zbrowski, “Awakening” (“Przebudzenie”), poetry 405: Hokusai, vignette 406-421: Georges Eekhoud, “L’Honneur de Lutterath” (“Chwała Lutterathu”), prose, Marya Komornicka (trans.) 421: Ignacy Pieńkowski, vignette 422-427: John Keats, “Hyperion” (Book III), poetry, Jan Kasprowicz (trans.) 422: Hiroshige, vignette, 427: Maryan Wawrzeniecki, vignette 428-455, Friedrich Nietzsche, fragments from Zarathustra, prose, Wacław Berent (trans.) 428, 455: Józef Mehoffer, vignettes, motifs from the polychrome decorations of the Wawel treasury 456-459: Bronisława Ostrowska, “From Folk Motifs. The Moral History of Three Sisters and a Wealthy Prince” (“Z motywów ludowych. Historya moralna o trzech siostrach i bogatym królewiczu”), poetry 456: Józef Mehoffer, initial “P”; 459: Hokusai, vignette 460-463: Hans Christian Andersen, “The Swines in the Forest” (“Świnie w lesie”), prose, T.W. (trans.) 460: Jan Stanisławski, vignette; 463: Stanisław Dębicki, vignette (tracing from old manuscript) 464-468: “Varia” – a letter from Wacław Berent; note from the editors 469-472: Index to vol. 4 469: initial “S” from old woodcut; 472: vignette from old woodcut 473-476: Alphabetical index of titles and initial words published in vol. 1-4 473: K. Niemczykiewicz, vignette (tracing from old manuscript); 476: Rops, vignette

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1902

Vol. 5, no. 13 (July 1902) Cover: Józef Mehoffer 2: reproduction of Adoration of the Three Kings (Pokłon trzech króli), from the school of the Krakow guild of the 15th c. From St. Catherine Church in Krakow 3-17: Cyprian Norwid, “Silence,” Part I (“Milczenie”), prose 3: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “C”; 6: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “S”; 13: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “P” 18-35: Kazimiera Zawistowksa, selected poems including “Sometimes the soul has. . .” (“Czasem ma dusza…”), “Epitaphium,” “The Returning Wave” (“Powrotna fala”), “To the Dead Soul” (“Umarłej duszy”), “Shadows” (“Cienie”), “Weariness” (“Znużenie”), “From Infernal Visions” (“Z wizyj piekielnych”), “To You” (“Tobie”), “My Kingdom” (“Królestwo moje”), poetry 19: Aubrey Beardsley, Ave atque vale [reproduction; initially appeared as an illustration for the artist’s translation of Catullus’s “Carmen CI” in The Savoy, no. 7 (Nov. 1896)]; 35: Aubrey Beardsley, vignette [initially appeared in the 1894 Dent edition of Sir Thomas Malory Le morte d’Arthur] 36-50: Marya Komornicka, “Demons” (“Biesy”), prose 36: Wojtala, initial “B” 51-69: Tadeusz Miciński, “In the Twilight of the Stars” (“W mroku gwiazd”), poetry 51, 69: Edward Okuń, vignette 70-87: J.P. Jacobsen, selected works including “Dr. Faust,” prose, Stanisław Wyrzykowski (trans.); and “There Should Have Been Roses” (“Tu różom by kwitnąć”), “Arabesque,” “Arabesque to a Hand-drawing by Michelangelo” (“Arabeska do rysunku Michała Anioła”), prose, Wacław Berent (trans.) 70: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “L”; 74: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “T” 88-110: Jadwiga Marcinowska, “In the Depths” (“W głębi”), play 88: Korin, vignette; 110: Hokusai, vignette 111-126: Julius Zeyer, “The House of the Sinking Star” (“Dom ‘pod tonącą gwiazdą’”), prose, Zenon Przesmycki (trans.) 111: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “R” 127-132: Giovanni Pascoli, selected works including “Immortality” (“Nieśmiertelność”), “Felicitas,” “The Book” (“Księga”), poetry, Anna Bronisławska (trans.) 133-142: Ernest Hello, “The Age and the Man” (“Wiek i człowiek”), prose, Marya Komornicka (trans.) 143-144: Jan Lemański, “Neighbors” (“Sąsiedzi”), prose 143: Maryan Wawrzeniecki, initial “W”; 144: Maryan Wawrzeniecki, vignette 145-160: “Monthly Chronicle” (“Kronika miesięczna”): 145-147: Tredecim, “Glosses” (“Glossy”) – “Jubilees, anniversaries, plebiscites, polls, competitions” (“Jubileusze, rocznice, plebiscyty, ankiety, konkursy”), essay 147-150: Miriam, “Poetry” (Poezya), review – Jan Kasprowicz’s To the perishing world (Ginącemu światu), Love (Miłość), My Evening Song (Moja pieśń wieczorna), Salve Regina 150-156: Włast [Marya Komornicka], “Novels” (“Powieść”), review – Józef Weyssenhoff’s The Case of Dołęga (Sprawa Dołęgi); Arne Garborg’s The Lost

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Father (Utracony ojciec); Charles Dickens’s A Tale of Two Cities (Powieść o dwu miastach); Eliza Orzeszkowa’s Moments (Chwile), Kazimierz Gliński’s Cecora, T.T. Jeż’s Of Hard Days (Z ciężkich dni); Michalina Domańska’s The Ugly Woman (Brzydka); J. Sielski’s Half Way (W pół drogi); Wiktor Gomulicki’s White (Biała); G. Daniłowski’s On Bygone Days (Z minionych dni); Fr. Rawita’s Illusions (Złudzenia); Paul Bourget The Phantom (Widmo); Charles Sheldon, In His Steps (W jego ślady) 156-158: Z[enon] P[rzesmycki], “Collecting Works of Art” (“Kolekcyonerstwo dzieł sztuki”), essay 158-160: “Varia” – about selected poems of Kazimiera Zawistowska; eulogy for Franciszek Wojtala; eulogy for Adolf Dygasiński

Vol. 5, no. 14 (August 1902) Cover: Józef Mehoffer Insert: Henri de Groux, The Phantom, lithograph (frontispiece for Remy de Gourmont’s Le Fantome (1893)) 161-187: Cyprian Norwid, “Silence,” Part II & III (“Milczenie”), prose 161: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “N”; 166: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “F”; 175: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “J”; 178: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “G”; 187: August Donnay, vignette 188-212: Jadwiga Marcinowska, “In the Depths” (“W głębi”), play 188: Hokusai, vignette; 212: Korin, vignette 213-227: Marya Komornicka, “Demons” (“Biesy”), prose 213: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “P” 228-244: Kazimiera Zawistowska, selected poems including “For Mary J.” (“Dla Maryi J.”), “For Zofia J. (“Dla Zofii J.”), “Summer” (“Lato”), “Twilight” (“Zmierzch”), “Fallen Leaves” (“Spadłe liście”), “Snow” (“Śnieg”), “Panagia,” “Cemetery” (“Cmentarz”), “Agnesa,” “Teresa,” “Magdalena,” “Annunciation” (“Zwiastowanie”), “Bethlehem” (“Betleem”), “The Vision” (“Wizya”), “The Abbess” (“Ksieni”) 228: Józef Mehoffer, vignette 245: Józef Mehoffer, Vita somnium breve, drawing 246-274: J.K. Huysmans, fragment from The Cathedral (Katedra), prose, M[arya] K[omornicka] (trans.) 246: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “W”; 249: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “K”; 253: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “I”; 258: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “A”; 260: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “Z”; 265: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “S”; 269: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “T”; 271: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “M”; 272: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “O” 275-276: Gabriel d’Annunzio, “In Vain” (“Napróżno”), poetry, Anna Bronisławska (trans.) 275, 276: Stanisław Turbia-Krzyształowicz, vignette 277: Aubrey Beardsley, vignette [initially appeared in the 1894 Dent edition of Sir Thomas Malory Le morte d’Arthur] 278-283: Jan Hempel, “On [Mountain] Peaks” (“Na wyżynach”), prose 278: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “S”

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284-295: Emile van Arenbergh, selected poems including “To the Ocean” (“Do Oceanu”), “Vesuvius” (“Wezuwiusz”), “De Profundis,” “Remorse” (“Wyrzut Sumienia”), “The Middle Ages” (“Średniowiecze”), “Remembrance” (“Wspomnienie”), “Always” (“Zawsze”), “November Sonnet” (“Sonet Listopadowy”), “Stabat,” “Sonnet,” “Castaway” (“Rozbitek”), poetry, Miriam [Zenon Przesmycki] (trans.) 284: Hokusai, vignette 296-305: Ernest Hello, “The Age and the Man” (“Wiek i człowiek”), prose, M[arya] K[omornicka] (trans.) 306-307: Kazimierz Wroczyński, “Refrains” (“Refreny”), poetry 308-327: Julius Zeyer, “The House of the Sinking Star” (“Dom ‘pod tonącą gwiazdą’”), prose, Zenon Przesmycki (trans.) 308: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “J” 328-330: Zygmunt Kawecki, “Waltz” (“Walc”), prose 328: Józef Mehoffer, initial “P”; 330: Józef Mehoffer, vignette 331-352: “Monthly Chronicle” (“Kronika miesięczna”): 331-336: Tredecim, “Glosses” (“Glossy”) – “Jubilees, anniversaries, plebiscites, polls, competitions” (“Jubileusze, rocznice, plebiscyty, ankiety, konkursy”), essay 336-346: Miriam [Zenon Przesmucki], “Poetry” (Poezya), review – Jan Kasprowicz’s To the perishing world (Ginącemu światu), Love (Miłość), My Evening Song (Moja pieśń wieczorna), Salve Regina 347-352a: Włast [Marya Komornicka], “Novels” (“Powieść”), review – Władysław Stanisław Reymont’s On an Autumn Night (W jesienną noc); Stanisław Przybyszewski’s In this Valley of Tears (Na tym padole płaczu); Stanisław Przybyszewski’s Homo Sapiens; Adolf Dygasiński’s Swan’s Lake (Łabędzia woda); Adolf Dygasiński’s Margiela and Margielka; novels by Janina Baudouin de Courtenay; Mieczysław Piniński’s Sketches from the Country Life (Szkice z życia wiejskiego); Jan Augustynowicz’s Strokes from a [Paint] Brush (Pociągnięcia pędzlem); Stefan Krzywoszewski’s Twilight (Zmierzch); Stefan Krzywoszewski’s Mrs. Jula (Pani Jula); Selected French Novels translated by Jan Lorentowicz; Rudyard Kipling’s The Jungle Book (Księga Dżungli); Multatuli’s Biography and Selected Works (Osobistość jego i wybór pism); Antonio Fogazzaro’s Malombra; Maria Melania Mutermilch’s Irony (Ironia); Maria Rodziewiczówna’s The Blue Ones (Błękitni); Jan Mieroszewicz’s Perished Stupidity! (Zginęła głupota!); S.M. Roguski’s The Husband and Gentleman (Mąż i pan); Natalia Bardzka Utopian (Utopista); J.A. Hertz’s From the Portfolio of Impressions (Z teki wrażeń); Teodor Jeske Choiński’s Troubadours (Trubadurowie); Artur Gruszecki’s At the Races (Na wyścigach); Artur Gruszecki’s By the Majority (Większością); Artur Gruszecki’s the Conquered (Zwyciężeni); Artur Gruszecki’s The New Citizen (Nowy obywatel); Knut Hamsun’s Victoria; René Bazin’s Les Oberlé (Rodzina Oberlé); Trzaska’s Miss Żablińska 352a-e: Z[enon] P[rzesmycki], “Collecting Works of Art” (“Kolekcyonerstwo dzieł sztuki”), essay 352e-352f: “Books Received” – listings for Poetry, Novels, Theater, Literary History, Philosophical and Psychological Studies, History, Memoirs, Travel Guides, Various

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352f-352j: “Periodicals Received” – Biblioteka Warszawska (Warsaw), Jan.-April 1902; Czasopis Musea Kralovstvi Czeskeho (Prague), vol. LXXV; Krytyka (Krakow), vol. IV, 1902, no. 1-3; Książka (Warsaw), vol.2 (1902), no.1-3; Das Litterarische Echo (Berlin), no. 7-14, 1902; Lumir (Prague), vol. XXX, no. 9-19; Il Marzocco (Florence), 1902, no.3-16; Mercure de France (Paris), Jan.-April 1902; Moderni Revue (Prague), Jan.-April 1902; The Outlook (London), 1902, no.205-220; Przegląd filozoficzny (Warsaw), vol.5, no.1, 1902; La Rassegna Internazionale (Florence), Jan.-April 1902; The Review of Reviews (London), Jan.-March 1902; La Revue Blanche (Paris), March-April 1902; La Revue d’Art Dramatique (Paris), Jan. 1902; La Revue du Bien (Paris), Jan.-April 1902; Srdce (Žamberk), Nov. 1902; Slovansky Przehled (Prague), Feb. 1902; The Spectator (London), no.3836-3851, 1902; Tygodnik Illustrowany (Warsaw), no. 1-10, 1902; Wisła (Warsaw), Nov.-Dec. 1902; Die Zeit (Vienna), 1902, no.379-394; Zvon (Prague), 1902, no.8-15 352j-352ł: “Varia” – “Colloquia” (poem) by Jan Lemański, about next issue, purchases by TZSP, School of Fine Arts, graphic arts, polls, “Sztuka” exhibition, Adolf Dygasiński’s grave, eulogy for Jan Wroczyński

Vol. 5, no. 15 (September 1902) Cover: Edward Okuń 354: Karol Tichy, drawing of praying girl 355-366: selections from the biblical Book of Ezekiel, “Ezekiel’s Visions,” prose, Jerzy Żuławski (trans.) 367-383: Jan Wroczyński, “At the Source” (“U źródła”), prose 367, 375, 383: N.S., vignettes 384-400: Bolesław Leśmian, “From Books of Foreboding” (“Z księgi przeczuć”), poetry 384, 400: Edward Okuń, vignettes 401-417: Ralph Waldo Emerson, “The Poet” (“Poeta” essay, Stanisław Wyrzykowski (trans.) 401, 417: Józef Mehoffer, vignette 418-419: Konstantin Balmont, “In my dreams I pursued the fleeting shadows” (“Jąłem ścigać jak w snach”), poetry, Miriam [Zenon Przesmycki] (trans.) 419: Felicien Rops, vignette (Vita per ignem) 420-439: Władysaw Korycki “Vision” (“Widzenia”), prose 420: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “I”; 422: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “T”; 424: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “P”; 426, 434: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “S”; 428, 429: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “J”; 431, 433: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “A”; 436: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “Z”; 438: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “D” 440-441: Charles Baudelaire, “Damned Women” (“Potępione”), poetry, K[azimiera] Zawistowska (trans.) 441: Stanisław Turbia-Krzyształowicz, vignette 442-449: Tristan Klingsor [Arthur Justin Leon Leclere], from the cycle “Flower Maidens” (z cyklu “Dziewczęta – Kwiaty”), poetry, K[azimiera] Zawistowska (trans.) 443, 445, 447, 449: Stanisław Turbia-Krzyształowicz, vignettes

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450: Felicien Rops, drawing [reproduction] of a faun [illustration for “Bon-Mots of Douglas Jerrold” in Bon Mots of Charles Lamb and Douglas Jerrold, edited by Walter Jerrold (1893)] 451-464: Rachilde, “The Sun Merchant” (“Handlarz słońca”), play, Miriam [Zenon Przesmycki] (trans.) 453: Edward Okuń, vignette; 464: Stanisław Turbia-Krzyształowicz (?), vignette 465-467: Bolesław Kołtoński, “You, My Eyes” (“Oczy, wy, moje…”), poetry 468-481: Julius Zeyer, “The House of the Sinking Star” (“Dom ‘pod tonącą gwiazdą’”), prose, Zenon Przesmycki (trans.) 468: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “R” 482-499: Jan Lemański, “Mundus vult decipi,” prose 482: Józef Mehoffer, initial “R”; 499: Felicien Rops, vignette (J’appelle un chat un chat) 500-504: “Monthly Chronicle” (“Kronika miesięczna”): 500-502: Tredecim, “Glosses” (“Glossy”) – “One can agree or not, but…” (“Można się zgadzać lub nie, ale…”), essay 502-504: Włast [Marya Komornicka], “Novels” (“Powieść”), review – Stanisław Przybyszewski’s The Hour of Wonder (W godzinie cudu); Józefat Nowiński’s Life and Dreams (Życie i marzenie); Sewer’s Legend (Legenda), Kazimierz Laskowski’s In the Fathers’ Footsteps (W ojców ślady); Tadeusz Konczyński’s Trace of Longing (Śladem tęsknoty); Anatole France’s Clio; O. Ludwik Coloma’s Writings (Pisma) 504: “Varia” – about “Tredecim” pseudonym, no complimentary issues, next issue

Vol. 6, no. 16 (October 1902) Cover: Józef Mehoffer Insert: Edward Burne-Jones, King Cophetua and the Beggar Maid (1884), heliogravure by R. Paulussen 1-26: Julius Zeyer, “King Cophetua” (“Król Kofetua”), prose, Miriam [Zenon Przesmycki] (trans.) 1: Edward Okuń, border; 1, 5, 7, 10, 19, 21: Edward Okuń, initial “K”; 3, 4, 13, 21, 22, 26: Edward Okuń, vignettes; 3, 20: Edward Okuń, initial “P”; 4, 8, 17, 19, 23: Edward Okuń, initial “S”; 6, 9, 11, 16: Edward Okuń, initial “T”; 7: Edward Okuń, initial “C”; 8, 25: Edward Okuń, initial “N”; 12, 22: Edward Okuń, initial “J”; 14: Edward Okuń, initial “A”; 15, 25: Edward Okuń, initial “Z”; 15: Edward Okuń, initial “D”; 16: Edward Okuń, initial “W”; 18: Edward Okuń, initial “U”; 24: Edward Okuń, initial “I” 27-39: Antoni Lange, from “Reflections” (Z “Rozmyślań”), poetry 27, 39: Edward Okuń, vignettes 40-62: Cyprian Norwid, “The Secret of Lord Singleworth” (“Tajemnica lorda Singleworth”), prose 40: initial “C” from old woodcut; 51: initial “T” from old woodcut 63-70: Gabriele d’Annunzio, From “Paradisical poem” (Z “Rajskiego poematu”), Anna Bronisławska (trans.) 63, 69: Maryan Wawrzeniecki, vignettes

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71: Edward Burne-Jones, Quia multum amavit [reproduction] 73-87: Ralph Waldo Emerson, “The Poet” (“Poeta” essay, Stanisław Wyrzykowski (trans.) 73, 87: Józef Mehoffer, vignettes 88-91: Michał C. Bielecki, “The pond” (“Sadzawka”), poetry 88: Stanisław Turbia-Krzyształowicz, vignette 92-96: Marya Komornicka, “May,” poetry 92: Stanisław Turbia-Krzyształowicz, vignette 97-98: Edward Leszczyński, “Sacrificial Flame” (“Płomień ofiarny”), poetry 97: Maryan Wawrzeniecki, vignette 99-101: Adam Łada [Cybulski], “Awakening” (“Ocknienie”), poetry 99: Stanisław Turbia-Krzyształowicz, vignette 102-103: Bronisława Ostrowska, “Incarnation” (“Wcielenie”), poetry 102: Edward Okuń, vignette 104: Leon Rygier, “Nocturne,” poetry 104: Stanisław Turbia-Krzyształowicz, vignette 105-106: Konrad Robakowski, “Siegfried,” poetry 105: Stanisław Dębicki, vignette (tracing) 107-108: Stanisław Wyrzykowski, “Mystical Roses” (“Róże mistyczne”), poetry 107: Stanisław Turbia-Krzyształowicz, vignette 109-133: Julius Zeyer, “The House of the Sinking Star” (“Dom ‘pod tonącą gwiazdą’”), prose, Zenon Przesmycki (trans.) 109: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “W” 134-136: Jan Lemański, “Colloquium,” poetry 134: initial “P” [artist not unidentified]; 136: vignette [artist not unidentified] 137-152:“Monthly Chronicle” (“Kronika miesięczna”): 137-140: Tredecim, “Glosses” (“Glossy”) – “‘National property’ and the state of affairs” (“‘Własność narodowa’ i stan rzeczy”), essay 140-143: Włast [Marya Komornicka], “Novels” (“Powieść”), review – Władysław Stanisław Reymont’s Before Dawn (Przed świtem); Stanisław Przybyszewski’s Prose Poetry (Poezye prozą); Jerzy Żuławski’s Prose Tale (Opowiadanie prozą); Julius Zeyer’s His and Her World (Jego świat i jej); Alfred de Vigny’s Cinq-Mars 143-151: J[an] L[emański], “Travel Writing” (“Podróżopisarstwo”), reviews 151-152: “Varia” – about Edward Burne-Jones heliogravure, “King Cophetua,” Ralph Waldo Emerson, memorial for Baudelaire 152a-152h: “New Varia” – Jan Lemański’s “The Misunderstanding, A Fable” (poem), “‘Sincere, Serious Decadence’ and ‘Willow Pan-pipe’” (essay on poetry), about Warsaw School of Fine Arts, note to authors (re: reviews), end of volume V 152h: Józef Mehoffer, vignette

Vol. 6, no. 17 (November 1902) Cover: Edward Okuń Insert: Cyprian Norwid, Le musicien inutile [reproduction of etching] 153-162: Leopold Staff, “Under the Sun” (“Pod słońcem”), poetry

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153, 154, 155, 156, 160, 162: Stanisław Turbia-Krzyształowicz, vignettes; 157: Korin, vignette; 158: Hokusai, vignette 163-181: Julius Zeyer, “The House of the Sinking Star” (“Dom ‘pod tonącą gwiazdą’”), prose, Zenon Przesmycki (trans.) 163: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “B” 182-198: Frederic Mistral, excerpts from “Golden Islands” (Z “Wysp złotych”), poetry, Antoni Lange (trans.) 182: N.S., initial “O”; 182, 198: vignettes from Romanesque motifs; 185: N.S., initial “Z”; 188: N.S., initial “N”; 194: N.S., initial “W” 199: Sandro Botticelli, drawing from The Divine Comedy 201-209: Adolf Dygasiński, “Oak Trees” (“Dęby”), prose 201: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “O” 210-213: Breton folk ballad, “L’enfant de cire” (“Dziecko z wosku”), ballad, Edward Porębowicz (trans.) 210, 213: Maryan Wawrzeniecki, vignettes 214-237: Friedrich Nietzsche, “Toward a Physiology of Art” [from Will to Power] (mistranslated into Polish as “On the Psychology of Art” [“Z psychologii sztuki”]), Wacław Berent (trans. and introduction) 216: Wojtala, initial “W”; 218, 221, 223, 229: Wojtala, initial “S”; 220, 232, 233: Wojtala, initial “C”; 213: Wojtala, initial “P” 238-245: Edward Leszczyński, “Ahaswer,” poetry 238, 245: Edward Okuń, vignettes 246-251: Jan Wroczyński, from “The Demented Consciousness” (Z “Jawy obłąkanej”), prose 246: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “Z”; 248: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “P”; 250: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “J” 252: Arthur Graf, “Sonnet,” poetry, Anna Bronisławska (trans.) 253-280: Jules Laforgue, “Perseus and Andromeda,” prose, Marya Komornicka (trans.) 253: Edward Okuń, vignette; 253: Edward Okuń, initial “O”; 259, 267: Edward Okuń, initial “J”; 279: Edward Okuń, initial “N” 281-296: Jan Lemański, “Lycoperdon Giganteum,” prose 297-312: “Monthly Chronicle” (“Kronika miesięczna”): 297-306: Tredecim, “Glosses” (“Glossy”) –“Disturbers and Agitators” (“Rozstrojowcy i zamętowcy”), essay; “The impotents of glorification” (“Impotenci uwielbienia”), essay 306-312a: Miriam [Zenon Przesmucki], “Poetry” (Poezya), review – Jan Lemański’s Fables (Bajki) 312a-312d: Włast [Marya Komornicka], “Novels” (“Powieść”), review – Adolf Dygasiński’s Feast of Life (Gody Życia); Adolf Neuwert-Nowaczyński’s Moneky’s Mirror (Małpie zwierciadło); Rudyard Kipling’s Kim; Van Faron’s The Life and Thought of Barabara Podfilipska (Żywot i myśli Barbary Podfilipskiej); Wacław Rogowicz’s Zocha 312d-312h: Z.P. [Przesmycki], “The Plastic Arts” (“Sztuki plastyczne”) – “The Church in Justrosin” 312d, 312e, 312f: Tomasz Pajzderski, drawings [reproductions] of Justrosin’s church

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312h: “Varia” – about Le musicien inutile

Vol. 6, no. 18 (December 1902) Cover: Józef Mehoffer Insert: Luca della Robbia, reproduction of fragment from cantoria (1431-38) [Museo dell'Opera del Duomo, Florence] 313-331: Cyprian Norwid, “The Last Fairytale” (“Ostatnia z bajek”), prose 313: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “N”; 317, 321: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “A”; 323: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “T”; 327: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “Z”; 328: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “W”; 330: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “K” 332-346: Marya Komornicka, “On the Paths of the Soul” (“Ze szlaków duszy”), poetry 332, 346: N.S., vignettes 347-371: Leonid Andrejev, “Silence” (“Milczenie”) and “Alarm bells” (“Dzwony na trwogę”) prose, Jan Wroczyński (trans.) 347, 364: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “W” 372-374: Paul Verlaine, selected poems including “Hour of Lovers” (“Godzina kochanków”) from Poèmes saturniens, “After Three Years” (“Po trzech latach”) from Poèmes saturniens, “The horn’s sound in the wood sobs dolefully…” (“Żałosny dźwięk rogu…”) from Sagesse, poetry, Helena Stattler (trans.) 375: Luca della Robbia, reproduction of fragment from cantoria (1431-38) [Museo dell'Opera del Duomo, Florence] 377-381: Tadeusz Miciński, “The Valley of Gloom” (“Dolina mroku”), prose 377: Edward Okuń, vignette 382-383: Enrico Nencioni, “Garden of Death” (“Ogród śmierci”), Anna Bronisławska (trans.) 382: Maryan Wawrzeniecki, vignette 384-405: Friedrich Nietzsche, “Toward a Physiology of Art” [from Will to Power] (mistranslated into Polish as “On the Psychology of Art” [“Z psychologii sztuki”]), Wacław Berent (trans. And comments) 384, 390, 402: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “W”; 388: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “C”; 389: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “P”; 392: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “J”; 393: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “L”; 399: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “U”; 399: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “O” 406: Jan Stanisławski, drawing of thistles [reproduction] 407-408: Michał Bielecki, “Flood” (“Przypływ”), poetry 409-410: Campanella [Henryk Salz], “Soul and Flesh” (“Dusza i ciało”), poetry 411-412: Bronisława Ostrowska, “On the Sunny Marvel-Princess and the Fisherman” (“O słonecznej cud-królewnie i o rybaku”), poetry 413: Stanisław Wyrzykowski, “Thought” (“Myśl”), poetry 414: Maryan Zbrowski, “The Poet” (“Poeta”), poetry 415-433: Julius Zeyer, “The House of the Sinking Star” (“Dom ‘pod tonącą gwiazdą’”), prose, Zenon Przesmycki (trans.) 415: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “R”; 433: Felicien Rops, vignette (Ultima quando?) 434-447: Jan Lemański, “Lycoperdon Giganteum,” prose 448-479: “Monthly Chronicle” (“Kronika miesięczna”):

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448-453: Tredecim, “Glosses” (“Glossy”) – “Jubilees, anniversaries, plebiscites, polls, competitions” (“Jubileusze, rocznice, plebiscyty, ankiety, konkursy”), essay 453-464: Włast [Marya Komornicka], “Novels” (“Powieść”), review – Wacław Berent’s Rotten Wood (Próchno); T.T. Jeż’s Love in Trouble (Miłość w opałach); Antonio Fogazzaro’s Little Modern World (Mały światek nowożytny); Franciszek Herczeg’s Gyurkovicsowie; Jerzy Bogurad’s Pro Christo; Franciszek Reinsztein’s Humoresques (Humoreski); Edgar Allan Poe’s Murders in the Rue Morgue (Morderstwo na rue Morgue); Antoni Miecznik’s On the Odaja Steppes (Na odajach stepowych); Teresa Jadwiga’s Prince Jacob’s Courtier (Dworzanin Królewicza Jakóba); Ignat Herrmann’s Father Kondelik and the Bridegroom Vejvara (Ojciec Kondelik i narzeczony Wejwara); Wanda Grot-Bęczkowska’s In the Claws (W szponach); Kazimierz Laskowski’s Killing Time (Dla zabicia czasu); Kś. B. Maryański Ester, Finland in the Literary Light (Finlandya w oświetlaniu literackim) edited by Gabryela Plewińska; Henryk Stanisław Pytliński’s Friends (Koledzy); Jan Barszczewski’s In the Castle (W kastelu); Cecylia Walewska’s Without a Soul (Bez duszy); Matylda Serao’s In the Telegraph Office (W biurze telegraficznem); Ludwika Jaholkowska-Koszutska’s From the Portfolio of Impressions (Z teki wrażeń); A. Suszczyńska’s Covinced (Przekonana); Kazimierza Witte’s Sketches from Memories (Szkice z pamięci); Paz’s Pictures (Obrazki); Światopełk Czech’s Jastrząb vs. Hordliczka (Jastrząb contra Hordliczka); Hajota’s The Last Bottle (Ostatnia butelka), Kazimierz Wojcicki’s The Sailors (Żeglarze); G. Orlicz-Garlikowska’s The Non-comedian (Nie-komedyantka) 464-469: Z.P. [Przesmycki], “The Plastic Arts” (“Sztuki plastyczne”) – about preservation of art monuments 469-472: “Books Received” – listings for Poetry, Novels, Theater, Literary and Aesthetic Studies, Plastic Arts, Philosophical Studies, History, Social Sciences, Natural Sciences, Anthropological Studies, Various 472: “Varia” – anniversary of Hoene-Wroński’s death 473-479: Zenon Przesmycki (Miriam), “After a Year and a Half” (“Po półtoraroczu” 480: information about subscriptions 480: Józef Mehoffer, vignette 481-484: Index to volume VI 481, 484: Maryan Wawrzeniecki, vignettes 485-488: Alphabetical index of titles and initial words published in vol. 5-6 485: K. Niemczykiewicz, vignette (tracing from old manuscript); 488: vignette

1904

Vol. 7, no. 19 (April 1904) Cover: Józef Mehoffer 2: Albrecht Dürer, Melancholia (1514) [reproduction of engraving] 3-22: Cyprian Norwid, “Mother of God” (“Boga-Rodzica”), prose 4: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “P”; 16: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “S”

328

23-31: Tadeusz Micińskim, “Eternal Wanderers” (“Wieczni wędrowcy”), poetry 23, 24, 26, 27, 28, 30, 31: Franciszek Siedlecki, vignettes 32-40: Heinrich von Kleist, “On the Marionette Theater” (“O teatrze maryonetek”), essay, Y. Rz. (trans.) 32: initial “B” [artist not identified] 41-58: Bolesław Leśmian, “Legends of Longing” (“Legendy tęsknoty”), prose 41, 42, 46, 56: Edward Okuń, vignettes; 42: Edward Okuń, initial “W”; 44: Edward Okuń, initial “L”; 47, 51, 54: Edward Okuń, initial “I”; 58: Edward Okuń, initial “O” 59-86: Axel Steenbuch, “Love” (“Miłość), play, A. Om. (trans.) 60, 69, 74, 80, 86: Franciszek Siedlecki, vignettes 87-99: Algernon Charles Swinburne, “Anactoria,” poetry, Jan Kasprowicz (trans.) 87, 99: Franciszek Siedlecki, vignettes 100-106: Marya Komornicka, “The Ally” (“Sprzymierzeniec”), prose 100: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “G” 107-113: Zofia Nałkowska, “In the Garden” (“W ogrodzie”), poetry 107: Korin, vignette 114-116: Charles Baudelaire, “The Stranger” (“Cudzoziemiec”) and “Anywhere out of the World” (“Gdziebądź precz z tego świata”), prose, I.N. (trans.) 116-117: Arthur Rimbaud, “After the Flood” (“Po potopie”) prose, I.N. (trans.) 117: Edward Okuń, vignette 118-130: Jan Lemański, “Masquerade” (“Maskarada”), poetry 131-152: “Monthly Chronicle” (“Kronika miesięczna”): 131-142: Tredecim, “Glosses” (“Glossy”) – “‘Modernism’ and Seekers of Masterpieces” (“‘Modernizm’ i poszukiwacze arcydzieł”), essay 142-148: J.L. “Novels” (“Powieść”), review – Maria Komornicka’s The Fiends (Biesy); Władysław Stanisław Reymont’s Komurasaki; Wacław Berent’s The Professional (Fachowiec); Julius Zeyer’s King Cophetua; Bret-Harte’s Last Novellas (Ostatnie nowele); George Sand’s The Last Aldini (Ostatnia z Aldinich); Henryk Zbierzchowski’s Before Sunrise (Przed wchodem słońca); Cecylia Walewska’s Children’s History (Historya dzieci); Stefan Gacki’s Dissonance (Rozdźwięki) 148-149: “Books Received” – listings for Poetry, Novels, Literary and Aesthetic Studies, History, Social Sciences, Natural Sciences, Various 149-152: “Varia” – about collected works of Norwid, writings of Zygmunt Krasiński, cover image, next issue

Vol. 7, no. 20/21 (May/June 1904) Cover: Edward Okuń Insert: Aubrey Beardsley, “How Queen Guenever Made Her a Nun” [reproduction; initially appeared in the 1894 Dent edition of Sir Thomas Malory Le morte d’Arthur] 153-188: Friedrich Nietzsche, “Dionysian Dithyrambs” (“Dytyramby Dionizyskie”) [from Thus Spoke Zarathustra], prose, Stanisław Wyrzykowski (trans.) 155, 159, 166, 167, 171, 173, 176, 180, 184, 188: Siedlecki, vignettes 190, 191: Józef Mehoffer, two stained-glass design drawings 193-216: Cyprian Norwid, “Mother of God” (“Boga-Rodzica”), prose

329

194: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “W”; 204: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “S”; 208: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “D” 217-286: William Butler Yeats, “The Countess Cathleen” (“Księżniczka Kasia”), play, Jan Kasprowicz (trans.) 219, 235, 236, 265, 266, 284: Franciszek Siedlecki, vignettes 287-308: Bolesław Leśmian, “Legends of Longing” (“Legendy tęsknoty”), prose 287, 299, 300, 303, 308: Edward Okuń, vignette; 287: Edward Okuń, initial “W”; 289: Edward Okuń, initial “B” and “O”; 291: Edward Okuń, initial “Z” and “M”; 293: Edward Okuń, initial “T” and “S”; 295: Edward Okuń, initial “I”; 297: Edward Okuń, initial “J”; 298: Edward Okuń, initial “N” and “P”; 300: Edward Okuń, initial “A”; 305: Edward Okuń, initial “K”; 307: Edward Okuń, initial “O” 309-325: Kazimierz Wroczyński, from the cycle “Circenses,” poetry 309, 312, 317, 319, 320, 324, 325: Franciszek Siedlecki, vignettes 326-345: Marya Komornicka, “From the Book of Temporary Wisdom” (“Z księgi mądrości tymczasowej”), prose 326, 345: Franciszek Siedlecki, vignettes 346-374: Scottish, Scandinavian, and German folk ballads, Edward Porębowicz (trans.) 346, 353, 354, 365, 366, 374: Franciszek Siedlecki, vignettes 375-381: Tadeusz Miciński, “The Rose Cloud” (“Różany obłok”), prose 375: Korin, vignette 382-404: Jan Lemański, “The Lions. An Animal Tragedy” (“Lwy. Tragedya zwierzęca”), play 405-417: Z[enon] P[rzesmycki], “An Unknown Drawing by Jan Ziarnko” (“Nieznana rycina Jana Ziarnka”), essay 418-422: Wacław Wolski, “The Secret Novel” (“Powieść tajemna”), poetry 418: Korin, vignette 423-427: Kazimierz Lewandowski, “Cacti” (“Kaktusy”), prose 423: Korin, vignette 428-448: “Monthly Chronicle” (“Kronika miesięczna”): 428-432: Tredecim, “Glosses” (“Glossy”) – “The Battle with an Idea” (“Walka o ideę”), essay 432-442: J.L. “Novels” (“Powieść”), review – Kazimierz Tetmajer’s On the Rocky Podhale Region (Na skalnem podhalu); Wiktor Gomulicki’s The Sword and Elbow (Miecz i łokieć); Eliza Orzeszkowa’s The Spinners (Przędze); Maria Konopnicka’s My Acquaintances (Moi znajomi); Józef Weyssenhof’s Beyond the Blue (Za błękitami); Józef Weyssenhof’s The Engagement of Jan Bełzki (Zaręczyny Jana Bełzkiego); William Morris’s News from Nowhere (Wieści znikąd); Bogdan Roxa Ronikier’s The Radiant Depths (Promienna toń); American Novels; Antoni Miecznik’s The History of the Milan Kingdom (Historya o królewiczu Milanie); Feliks Brodowski’s Moments (Chwile); Jerome K. Jerome’s Diary of a trip to Oberammergau (Dziennik wycieczki do Oberammergau); Piotr Altenberg’s As I See It (Jak ja to widzę); Arthur Conan Doyle’s The Hound of the Baskervilles (Pies Baskerville’ów); Antoni Miecznik’s Four Days (Cztery dni); Vera’s One for Many (Jedna dla wielu); M. Domańska’s Quiet Strength (Cicha moc); Emma Jeleńska’s From Love (Z miłości ); Ire ad Sol’s Hunger for Life (Głód życia); W. Weresajew’s On Pathless Tract (Na bezdrożu)

330

442-443: “Books Received” – listings for Poetry, Novels, Drama, Literary and Aesthetic Studies, Philosophy, Cultural Histories, Memoirs, Various 443-448: “Varia” – letter from the Attending Committee of Warsaw’s School of Fine Arts, biref notes on Józef Mehoffer, issue inserts, issue cover 449-452: Index to volume VII 449, 452: Maryan Wawrzeniecki, vignette

Vol. 8, no. 22/23/24 (July-September 1904) (special volume devoted to Cyprian Kamil Norwid) Cover: Józef Mehoffer Insert: Franciszek Siedlecki, Portrait of C. Norwid [reproduction of etching] 1-3: Cyprian Norwid, introductory verse to “Vade-mecum,” poetry 1, 3: Jan Stanisławski, vignettes 5: Cyrpian Norwid, “Christ and Barabas” (“Chrystus i Barabasz”), pen and ink drawing [reproduction] 7-54: Cyprian Norwid, “Promethidion,” poetry 14, 30: Michał Żuk, vignettes; 54: Kazimierz Sichulski, vignette 55: Cyprian Norwid, oil study [reproduction] 57-208: Cyprian Norwid, “Cleopatra,” play, introduction by Z[enon] P[rzesmycki] 27, 62, 106, 107, 160, 161, 208: Egyptian motifs as vignette 209: Cyprian Norwid, Portait Bust of Zygmunt Krasiński, pen and ink sketch [reproduction] 211-218: Cyprian Norwid, “Pompeii,” poetry 211, 218: Franciszek Siedlecki, vignettes 219: Cyprian Norwid, watercolor sketch [reproduction] 221-255: Norwid, “Stigma” (“Stygmat”), prose 221: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “P”; 246: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “K” 256: Cyprian Norwid, pencil sketch [reproduction] 257-283: Cyprian Norwid, “Translations from The Odyssey” (“Przekłady z Odyssei”), essay; and excerpts from The Odyssey translated into Polish 257: Krzyżanowski, intial “K”; 260, 277, 278, 280, 281, 283: Stanisław Dębicki, vignettes 284: Cyprian Norwid, pen and ink drawing [reproduction] 285-294: Cyprian Norwid, “La philosophie de la guerre,” essay (in French) 285: Siedlecki, vignette 295: Pantaleon Szyndler, Norwid Sleeping, portrait sketch [reproduction] 297-313: Cyprian Norwid, excerpts from “Vade-mecum” and from later lyrical and ironic works (Z cycklu “Vade-mecum” i z późniejszych utworów lirycznych i ironicznych) including “Irony” (“Ironia”), “Pilgrim” (“Pielgrzym”), “Mercy” (“Litość), “Sphinx,” “Narcissus” (“Narcyz”), “Orphanhood” (“Sieroctwo”), “Fate” (“Fatum”), “‘Follow God’” (“‘Ruszaj z Bogiem’”), “Ideas and Truth” (“Idee i prawda”), “Puritanism” (“Purytanizm”), “Heaven and Earth” (“Niebo i ziemia”), “Gods and man” (“Bogowie i człowiek”), “The Ripe Laurel” (“Laur dojrzały”) “Time and Truth” (“Czas i prawda”), “The Source” (“Źródło”), “Nerves” (“Nerwy”), “Tell them...” (“Powiedz im...”), “Lapidaria,” “Rhyme” (“Fraszka”), “My Psalm” (“Mój psalm”), poetry 297, 313: Stanisławski, vignettes

331

315: Cyprian Norwid, self-portrait pen and ink sketch [reproduction] 317-416: Letters (1845-1857) from Norwid to Maria Trembicka, introduction by Stanisław Kossowski 325, 346, 350, 363, 384, 416: Franciszek Siedlecki, vignettes 417: Cyprian Norwid, self-portrait pen and ink drawing [reproduction] 419-453: Z[enon] P[rzesmycki], “On the Notes and Documents of Cyprian Norwid” (“Z notat i dokumentów o C. Norwidzie”), essay 421: Cyprian Norwid, The Emigration Conference (Posiedzenie emigranckie), satirical pencil sketch [reproduction]; 424: Cyprian Norwid, Neighbors at the Paris Workshop of St. Casimir (Sąsiedzi w zakładzie Ś-go Kazimierza w Paryżu), satirical pencil sketch [reproduction]; 427: photograph of Cyprian Norwid; 428: Cyprian Norwid, Chemin du progrès, satirical pencil sketch [reproduction] 454-456: Index to volume VIII 456: Cyprian Norwid, vignette

1905

Vol. 9, no. 25 (October 1905) Cover: Edward Okuń Insert: Henri de Groux, The Phantom, lithograph [reproduction of frontispiece for Remy de Gourmont’s Le Fantome (1893)] 2: Stanisław Wyspiański, pencil drawing [reproduction] 3-4: Stanisław Wyspiański, untitled, poetry 5-29: Stefan Żeromski, “The Story of Walgierz Udały” (“Powieść o Udałym Walgierzu”), prose 5: Franciszek Wojtala, vignette; 7: Jan Stanisławski, Tyniec, frontispiece [reproduction]; 9: Stanisławski, Tyniec in Flames (Tyniec w płomieniach), frontispiece [reproduction]; 11: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “N”; 22: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “U” 30-82: Gabriel d’Annunzio, fragments from “Francesca from Rimini” (“Franczeska z Rimini”), play, Jan Kasprowicz (trans.) 30, 52: Józef Mehoffer, vignettes 84: Stanisław Wyspiański, pencil drawing 85-99: Helena Kwiatkowska, “Chambres garnier,” prose 85: Józef Mehoffer, vignette 100: Stanisław Wyspiański, pencil drawing [reproduction] 101-116: Marya Komornicka, “From the Paths of the Spirit” (“Ze szlaków ducha”), poetry 101, 112: Józef Mehoffer, vignettes 117: Antoni Stanisław Procajłowicz, ex-libris, four-color lithograph 118-139: Wacław Berent, “The Sources and Results of Nietzscheanism” (“Źródła i ujścia nietzscheanizmu”), essay 118: Wojtala, initial “W” 140: Siedlecki, ex-libris, etching

332

141-143: Emile Verhaeren, “The Ferryman” (“Przewoźnik”), poetry, El-ka [Ludwika Kalenkiewiczowa] (trans.) 141: Józef Mehoffer, vignette 144-145: Stephane Mallarme, “The Future Phenomenon” (“Fenomen przyszłości”), Z[enon] P[rzesmycki] (trans.) 144: initial “N” [artist not identified] 146: Tadeusz Rychter, ex-libris, three-color lithograph 147-149: Jan Lemański, “Fairy Tale about a Fisherman and a Fishwife” (“Bajka o rybaku i rybaczce”), poetry 147: Józef Mehoffer, vignette 150-164: “Monthly Chronicle” (“Kronika miesięczna”): 150-155: Tredecim, “Glosses” (“Glossy”) – “‘Pogrom’ of Art” (“‘Pogrom’ sztuki”), essay 155-163: Z[enon] P[rzesmycki], “New Polish Artistic Ex-libris” [“Nowe polskie ex-librisy artystyczne”), essay 163-164b: “Books Received” – listings for Poetry, Novels, Theater, Literary Studies, Aesthetic Studies, Art Publications, Philosophy, Social Matters, Cultural Histories, History, Memoirs, Ethnography, Natural Science, Collected Works, Various 164b-164d: “Varia” – brief notes about exhibition about printing arts

Vol. 9, no. 26 (November 1905) Cover: Józef Mehoffer 166: Fernand Khnopff, Mon couer pleure d’autrefois, drawing 167-185: Stefan Żeromski, “The Story of Walgierz Udały” (“Powieść o Udałym Walgierzu”), prose 167: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “S,” 175: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “Ś”; 182: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “D” 186: Xawery Dunikowski, The Musician (Muzyk), sculpture 187-215: Jan Lemański, “The Liberation-Lullaby” (“Wyzwolenka”), poetry 187: Franciszek Wojtala, vignette; 189, 194, 197, 200, 203, 206, 209, 212: Hiroshige, vignettes 216: Xawery Dunikowski, Portrait [photograph of sculpture] 217-250: Wacław Berent, “The Sources and Results of Nietzscheanism” (“Źródła i ujścia nietzscheanizmu”), essay 217: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “A”; 232: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “D”; 242: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “O” 251: Xawery Dunikowski, Mother (Matka) [photograph of sculpture] 252-304: Gabriel d’Annunzio, fragments from “Francesca from Rimini” (“Franczeska z Rimini”), play, Jan Kasprowicz (trans.) 252, 272, 294: Józef Mehoffer, vignettes 305-308: Henri de Regnier , Le château de Lucile” (Zamek Lucyli”) from Contes à soi- même, prose, Z[enon] P[rzesmycki] (trans.) 305: Korin, vignette 309-314: José Maria de Heredia, poems from The Trophies (“Z ‘Trofeów’”) including “Oblivion” (“Zapomnienie”), “Nemea,” “Antony and Cleopatra,” “The Conquerors”

333

(“Zdobywcy”), “The Samurai,” “On a Broken [Marble]” (“Na posąg strzaskany”), poetry, Miriam [Zenon Przesmycki] (trans.) 315: Jan Lemański, “Various Paths” (“Różne drogi”), prose 316-340:“Monthly Chronicle” (“Kronika miesięczna”): 316-323: Miriam [Zenon Przesmycki], “At the Grave of Juliusz Słowacki” (“Nad mogiłą Juliusza Słowackiego”), essay 323-337: Włast [Marya Komornicka], “Novels” (“Powieść”), review – Stefan Żeromski’s Ashes (Popioły); Wacław Sieroszewski’s Dusk (Brzask); Marcel Schwob’s The Children’s Crusade (Krucyata dziecięca); Karol Irzykowski’s The Hag and Maria Dunin’s Dreams (Pałuba. Sny Maryi Dunin); Eliza Orzeszkowa’s Worshipper of Power (Czciciel potęgi); Joseph Conrad’s (Konrad Korzeniowski) Lord Jim;, Anatole France’s La rotisserie de la Reine Pedauque (Gospoda pod Królową-Gęsią-nóżką); Gabriela Zapolska’s The Seasonal Love (Sezonowa miłość); Jerzy Żuławski’s On the Silver Globe (Na srebrnym globie); Kazimierz Gliński’s Mr. Philip from Konopi (Pan Filip z Konopi); Jan Augustynowicz’s In the Prism (W przyzmacie); Alexander Kielland’s Kapitan Wörse; Adam Krzechowiecki’s Dusk (Mrok); Bolesław Biernacki’s The Clerks (Biuraliści); Edward Paszkowski’s Clear Waters (Jasne Wody); Jakub Gordon’s Caucasus or The Last Days of Szamyl (Kaukaz czyli ostatnie dni Szamyla) 337-340: “Varia” – brief notes about Chopin, José Maria de Heredia, Florence Society of Leonardo da Vinci

Vol. 9, no. 27 (December 1905) Cover: Edward Okuń 341-347: Cyprian Norwid, “Chopin’s Piano” (“Fortepian Szopena”), poetry 348-370: Stefan Żeromski, “The Story of Walgierz Udały” (“Powieść o Udałym Walgierzu”), prose 348: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “M”; 350: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “R”; 355: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “S”; 358, 363: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “W”; 361: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “P”; 368: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “N” 371: Karol Tichy, charcoal drawing [reproduction] 373-400: Mevlana Jalaluddin Rumi, selected poems (intro by Joseph v. Hammer), poetry, Tadeusz Miciński (trans.) 375, 379, 400: Franciszek Siedlecki, vignettes 401-413: Amalia Hertzówna, “Isolde of the White Hands” (“Yseult o białych dłoniach”), play 401, 402, 413: Franciszek Siedlecki, vignettes 414: Raphael, Head of Dante, detail from Disputa (1510-11), fresco [reproduction] 415-423: Dante Alighieri, first and second canto of The Inferno from The Divine Comedy, poetry, Cyprian Norwid (trans.) 423: vignette [artist not identified] 424-447: Ewa Łuskina, “Anamorphoses” (“Anamorfozy”), prose 424, 434: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “Z”; 427: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “N”; 431: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “A”; 437: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “T”; 443: Franciszek Wojtala, initial “W” 448-453: Wacław Berent, “Roses” (“Róże”), poetry

334

451: Tymon Niesiołowski, Incense Fragrance (Woń kadzideł), pen and ink drawing [reproduction] 453-458: Michał C. Bielecki, “Son of Man” (“Syn człowieczy”), poetry 458-460: Ludwik Eminowicz, “On the Country Path” (“Na wiejskiej drodze”), “Kolenda” poetry 460-466: Maria Komornicka, untitled and “Shadows” (“Cienie”), poetry 466: Jan Lemański, “The Singing Tower” (“Wieża śpiewająca”), poetry 466-467: Mi. Ja., “To Szymon Zimorowicz” (“Szymonowi Zimorowiczowi”), poetry 467-471: Jan Rundbaken, “Impacts” (“Uderzenia”), “The Sadness of Life” (“Smutek życia”), “My friends died along the way…” (“Odumarli mnie w drodze moi przyjaciel...”), “The Psalm of My Faith” (“Psalm mojej wiary”), poetry 469: Tymon Niesiołowski, Queen of Spiders (Pająków Królowa), pen and ink drawing 471-472: Władysław Tatarkiewicz, “Melancholia,” poetry 472-473: Mamert Wikszemski, untitled, poetry 473: Stanisław Wyrzykowski, “Black Thujas” (“Czarne tuje”), poetry 474: Henryk Zbierzchowski, “The Stone God” (“Kamienny bóg”), poetry 475-482: Marya Komornicka, “Oscar Wilde: An Ideal Apocryphon” (“Oskar Wilde: Apokryf idealny”), prose 475: Korin, vignette 483-485: Hugo von Hofmannsthal, “Ballad of the Superficial Life,” (“Ballada życia powierzchnego”) and “Many, in fact…” (“Wielu jużci…”), poetry, Miriam [Zenon Przesmycki] (trans.) 485-489: Giovanni Pascoli, “The Siren” (“Syrena”), “Kiss from the Deceased” (“Pocałunek zmarłej”), “Pilgrimage Staff” (“Kij pielgrzymi”), poetry, Anna Bronisławska (trans.) 489-492: Emile Verhaeren, “From the Reliquary” (“Ta z relikwiarza”), – El-ka [L. Kalenkiewiczowa] (trans.) 493-516:“Monthly Chronicle” (“Kronika miesięczna”): 493-495: Tredecim, “Glosses” (“Glossy”) – “Warsaw…” (“Warszawa…”), essay 495-513: Włast [Marya Komornicka], “Novels” (“Powieść”), review – Władysław Stanisław Reymont’s The Peasants (Chłopi); 16 novels by 10 authors – From One Stream (Z jednego strumienia); Stefan Żeromski’s The Avenger Aryman and The Hour (Aryman mści and Godzina); Anatole France’s The Comic History (Historya komiczna); Stanisław Przybyszewski’s Sons of the Earth (Synowie ziemi); Mieczysław Pawlikowski’s Pictures and Tales (Obrazki i opowiadania); André Gide’s Prometheus Illbound (Prometeusz źle spętany); Anton Chekhov’s Tales (Opowiadania); Zygmunt Niedźwiedzki’s Erotica (Erotyki); Mor Jokai’s The White Lady of Levoca (Biała dama z Liwoczy); Julia Terpiłowska’s The Harbor (Przystań); Paul Bourget’s On the Rungs (Po szczeblach); Eliza Orzeszkowa’s Mirtala; Gabriela Zapolska’s Like a Rainbow! (Jak tęcza!); T. Prażmowska’s The Goose’s Romance or Gąska’s Romance (Romans Gąski); Multatuli’s Max Havelaar; Guy de Maupassant’s At Sea (Na wodzie); Kazimierz Gliński’s Pictures from the Past (Obrazki z przeszłości); Maria Konopnicka’s On the Normandy Coast (Na normandzkim brzegu); Marcel Prévost’s Letters to Francoise (Listy do Frani); Gustaw Daniłowski’s Two Voices

335

(Dwa głosy); Antoni Miller’s Three Cemeteries (Trzy cmentarze); Wiktoria Przeradzka’s Fragment; Wacław Żmudzki’s From a Psychopath’s Memoir (Z pamiętnika psychopaty); Selection of French Novels translated by M. Rakowska; Grazia Deledda’s After the Divorce (Po rozwodzie); Agot Gjems Selmer’s Above the Distant and Silent Fjord (Nad dalekim cichym fiordem); Andrzej Niemojewski’s November (Listopad); Stanisław Nałęcz Ostrowski Before the Storm (Przed burzą); Hall Caine’s Israel 514-516: “Books Received” – listings for Poetry, Novels, Theater, Literary Studies, Aesthetic Studies, Philosophy, Social Matters, History, Memoirs, Ethnography/Folklore/Travel, Archaeology, Natural Examinations, Pedagogy, Military Studies, Collected Works, Music, Various 516: “Varia” – brief notes about the current issue, antiques dealer, Paris’s L’art décoratif 517-520: Index to Volume IX 517, 520: vignettes [artist not identified]

1907

Vol. 10, no. 28/29/30 (December 1907) Cover: Edward Okuń Insert (to nos. 28/29): Ignacy Pieńkowski, Annunciation (Zwiastowanie), half-tone etching Insert (to no. 30): eulogy for and poem by Stanisław Wyspiański Insert (to vol. 10): Leonardo da Vinci, Head of Christ from [The Last] Supper (Wieczerzy), 1498 [reproduction] 1-37: Josephin Péladan, “Leonardo da Vinci’s Last Lecture” (“Ostatni wykład Leonarda da Vinci”), essay, Miriam [Zenon Przesmycki] (trans.) 3: Jan Stanisławski, vignette 38: Józef Mehoffer, The Muse (Muza), etching 39-63: Folk Ballads of Western and Southern Europe (Ballady ludowe Europy zachodniej i południowej), Edward Porębowicz (trans.) 39, 45, 48, 51, 55, 58, 59, 60, 61, 63: Stanisław Dębicki, vignettes; 41: N.S., vignette; 43, 50, 57: Józef Mehoffer, vignettes; 47: Kazimierz Sichulski; 53: Edward Okuń, vignette 64-80: Maria Komornicka, “Intermezzo,” prose 64, 71, 74, 76, 80: Odilon Redon, vignettes 81: Karol Tichy, charcoal drawing [reproduction] 82-171: Jan Rundbaken, “In the Steps of Rosynant” (“Śladem Rosynanta”), poetry 82, 83, 84, 85, 86, 88, 90, 91, 94, 95, 97, 98, 102, 107, 109, 111, 114, 118, 126, 136, 140, 143, 147, 150, 155, 156, 160, 168, 171: Franciszek Siedlecki, vignettes 172-188: Hugo von Hofmannsthal, “Dialogue about Poems” (“O wierszach dyalog”), prose, Stanisław Wyrzykowski (trans.) 172, 188: Mikołaj Żuk, vignettes 189: Moreau, Salome, drawing [reproduction] 190-205: Leopold Staff, “Along the Way” (“Po drodze”), poetry

336

190: Stanisław Dębicki, vignette and intial “P”; 205: Jan Stanisławski, vignette 206-213: Artur Górski, “Archangel” (“Archanioł”), prose 206, 213: Józef Mehoffer, vignettes 214-220: Catullus (or Gallus), “Pervigilium Veneris,” poetry, K[azimierz] Wroczyński (trans.) 214, 220: Józef Mehoffer, vignettes 221-236: Algernon Charles Swinburbe, “Laus Veneris,” poetry, Jan Kasprowicz (trans.) 221: Franciszek Wojtala, intial “L”; 222: Beardsley, vignette [Tannhauser]; 236: vignette [artist not identified] 237: Edward Okuń, Portrait (Portret) [reproduction of drawing] 239-247: Ewa Łusinka, “Peace for People of Goodwill (“Pokój ludziom dobrej woli”), prose 239, 241, 243, 245: Maryan Wawrzeniecki, vignettes 248-262: Bolesław Leśmian, “The Remote Ones” (“Oddaleńcy”), poetry 248: Edward Okuń, vignette; 262: Maryan Wawrzeniecki, vignette 263-319: Upanishads – Kena, Isha and fragment from the Great Aranya (Upaniszady Kena, Isa, oraz fragment z wielkiej Aranyaki), prose, Wacław Berent (trans. and intro.) 263: Edward Okuń, title page; 265, 283, 288, 289, 292, 293, 297, 298, 299, 300, 302, 304, 305, 308, 310, 311, 315, 319: Edward Okuń, vignettes 320: Konstanty Laszczka, To Infinity (W nieskończoność), sculpture 321-354: Jan Kasprowicz, “Marchołt’s Birth: A Tragic-comedy of Marchołt the Stout and Bawdy” (“Narodziny Marchołta: Tragikomedyi Marchołta grubego a sprośnego”), play 321: Edward Okuń, title page; 354: vignette (artist?) 355-361: Stanisław Wyrzykowski, fragment from “The Midnight Hour” ( Z “Północnej godziny”), prose 355, 361: Korin, vignettes 362-373: Giosuè Carducci, selected poems including “Avanti! Avanti!” (“Naprzód! Naprzód!”), “Reminiscences from School” (“Wspomnienia ze szkoły”), “Idyll of the Maremma” (“Idylla Maremmańska”), “The Ox” (“Wół”), “Colloquies with Trees” (“Rozmowy z drzewami”), “Before the Urn of Percy Bysshe Shelley” (“Przed urną Percy Bysshe Shelleya”), poetry, Miriam [Zenon Przesmycki] (trans.) 362: Hiroshige, vignette; 373: Korin, vignette 374-382: Zygmunt Zaleski, “The Toppled Caryatids” (“Karyatydy strącone”), prose 374: Khnopff, vignette [frontispiece of Georges Rodenbach’s Bruges-la-Morte, Paris, 1892]; 382: Auguste Donnay, vignette 383-394: Kazimierz Wroczyński, “Cosmos,” poetry 383, 394: Korin, vignettes 395-403: Wł[adysław] St[anisław] Reymont, “The Last One” (“Ostatni”), prose 395: Hokusai, vignette 404-407: Alfred de Vigny, “Moses” (”Mojżesz”), poetry, Miriam [Zenon Przesmycki] (trans.) 404: Korin, vignette 407-409: Leconte de Lisle, “Le sommeil du condor” (“Sen kondora”) and “In excelsis,” poetry, Miriam [Zenon Przesmycki] (trans.) 409-411: Stephane Mallarmé “The Flowers” (“Kwiaty”) and “The Windows” (“Okna”), poetry, Miriam [Zenon Przesmycki] (trans.)

337

411-413: Paul Verlaine, excerpts from “La Bonne Chanson”, “Romances sans paroles,” and “Sagesse,” poetry, Miriam [Zenon Przesmycki] (trans.) 413-414: Max Waller, “At the Sea” (“Na morzu”), poetry, Miriam [Zenon Przesmycki] (trans.) 414-415: Albert Giraud, “To Camille Lemonnier” (“Do Kamila Lemmonier”), poetry, Miriam [Zenon Przesmycki] (trans.) 415-416: Ivan Gilkin, “Mystical Song” (“Piosnka mistyczna”), poetry, Miriam [Zenon Przesmycki] (trans.) 416: Maurice Maeterlinck, “Song” (“Piosnka”), poetry, Miriam [Zenon Przesmycki] (trans.) 416-417: Charles van Lerberghe, “Song” (“Piosnka”), poetry, Miriam [Zenon Przesmycki] (trans.) 417-419: Enrico Nencioni, “Life’s Stream” (“Potok życia”), poetry, Anna Bronisławska (trans.) 419-422: Gabriel d’Annunzio, “Klimena” and “The Good News” (“Dobra Nowina”) poetry, Anna Bronisławska (trans.) 422-427: Giovanni Pascoli, “The Zither of Achilles” (“Cytra Achillesa”), poetry, Anna Bronisławska (trans.) 427-428: Arturo Graf, “The Mirror” (“Zwierciadło”), poetry, Anna Bronisławska (trans.) 428-430: Vittoria Aganoor, “Val di sella,” “Red Bronze Gate” (“Wrota śpiżowe”), “Reading Maeterlinck” (“Czytając Maeterlincka”), poetry, Anna Bronisławska (trans.) 430-431: Angiolo Orvieto, “Pan,” “The Ideal Mountain” (“Góra wymarzona”), poetry, Anna Bronisławska (trans.) 431-432: Alfred Mombert, selected untitled poems, poetry, Kazimierz Wroczyński (trans.) 433-435: Max Dauthendey, selected untitled poems, poetry, Kazimierz Wroczyński (trans.) 435-436: Jan Neruda, from “Cosmic Songs” (Z “Pieśni kosmicznych”), poetry, Miriam [Zenon Przesmycki] (trans.) 436-441: Jaroslav Vrchlicki, “Harut and Marut,” “Music in the Soul” (“Muzyka w duszy”), poetry, Miriam [Zenon Przesmycki] (trans.) 441-442: J[osef] S[vatopluk] Machar, “Pythagoras,” poetry, Miriam [Zenon Przesmycki] (trans.) 442-444: Otokar Brezina, “The Wine of the Strong” (“Wino silnych”), prose, Miriam [Zenon Przesmycki] (trans.) 445-448: Kazimiera Zawistowska, “Goldfish” (“Złote rybki”), prose 445, 448: Korin, vignettes 449-453: Jan Lemański, “Tri-rhythm” (“Trójrytm”), poetry 449: Korin, vignette 454-466: Aleksander Szczęsny, “Lyrics (“Liryka”), prose 454: Jan Stanisławski, vignette 467: Stanisław Barącz, “The Eye” (“Oko”), poetry 467: Korin, vignette 468: Michał C. Bielecki, “Prelude” (“Preludyum”), poetry

338

468-469: Kazimierz Błeszyński, “The Blessed” (“Błogosławione”) and untitled poem, poetry 469-470: Anna Bronisławska, “Fantasy” (“Fantazya”) and “At the Cemetery” (“Na cmentarzu”), poetry 470: Michał Bukowski, “The Knight-errant” (“Błędny rycerz”), poetry 470-471: Ludwik Eminowicz, “Smile” (“Uśmiech”), poetry 471: Franciszek Galiński, “The Dream” (“Sen”), poetry 471-472: Ignacy Grabowski, “Despair” (“Rozpacz”), poetry 472-474: L[udwika] Kalenkiewiczowa, “Lyrical Fantasy” (“Fantazya liryczna”), poetry 474-475: Marya Komornicka, “Incantation” (“Inkantacya”), poetry 476: Czesław Krzykowski, “The Egoist” (“Samolub”), poetry 476-478: Bolesław Leśmian, “The Shield” (“Tarcza”), poetry 478: Kazimierz Lubecki, “The Chimeras of the Parisian Cathedral” (“Chimery katedry paryskiej”), poetry 479: Kornel Makuszyński, “Desire” (“Żądza”), poetry 479-481: Jan Stanisław Mar, “In Solitude” (“W głuszy”), poetry 482: J. Mzura, “Enraptured” (“Zachwycenie”), poetry 482-483: Zofia Rygier-Nałkowska, “Weariness” (“Znużenie”), poetry 483: Konrad Robakowski, “Spring Fantasy” (“Fantazya Wiosenna”), poetry 483-485: Jan Rundbaken, “Satan-Demiurge and I” (“Ja i Szatan-Demiurgos”), poetry 486-487: Henryk Salz (Campanella), “Vox Mystica,” poetry 487-488: Savitri [Anna Zahorska], fragment from “Brunhilda,” poetry 488-489: Przecław Smolik, “The Gray [haired] Guest” (“Siwy gość”), poetry 489-491: Leopold Staff, “A Grave in the Heart” (“Grób w sercu”), poetry 491-492: Stefan Stasiak, untitled, poetry 492: Tadeusz Świątek, “The Silent King” (“Król milczący”), poetry 493-494: Aleksander Szczęsny, “Lyric” (“Liryka”) and “For the Poem” (“Dla wiersza”), poetry 494: Wacław Wiediger, “Hopes” (“Nadzieje”), poetry 495: Mamert Wikszemski, “Contralto,” poetry 495-496: M. Wilkowicz, “The Bloody Phantom” (“Krwawe widmo”), poetry 496: Bruno Winawer, “Aquatint” (“Akwatinta”), poetry 496-497: Stanisław Witoszyński, “Blizzard” (“Zamieć”), “Eyes of the Insane” (“Oczy obłąkanego”), “Them” (Oni...”), poetry 498-500: Kazimierz Wize, “Okeanos” (fragment), poetry 500-504: Maryla Wolska (D-Mol), “The Midsummer Fires” (“Z ogni kupalnych”), poetry 505-506: Wacław Wolski, “Hell” (“Piekło”), poetry 506-507: Władysław Zaleski, “The Bell (“Dzwon”), poetry 507-509: Barbara Zan, “In the Mountains” (“W górach”), untitled poem, “ “Consolation” (“Ukojenie”), “To the Unknown” (“Nieznanemu”), and “Paupers” (“Nędzarze”), poetry 509-510: Henryk Zbierzchowski, “Festivities” (“Gody”), poetry 510: Maryan Wawrzeniecki, vignette 511: Dante Gabriel Rossetti, The Blessed Damozel (Błogosławiona panienka), 1881, oil on canvas 512-514: Vasyl Stefanyk, “Winter Crop” (“Ozimina”) and “News” (“Nowina”), prose, W. Moraczewski (trans.)

339

512: Maryan Wawrzeniecki, vignette 515-519: Soren Kierkegaard, fragment from Fear and Trembling (Trwoga i drżenie), prose, W. Moraczewski (trans.) 519: Maryan Wawrzeniecki, vignette 520: Leonardo da Vinci, fables (bajki) from Codice Atlantico (fol. 67 recto; fol. 76 recto; folio 175 verso; folio 65, recto), prose, Leopold Staff (trans.) 520, 523: Józef Mehoffer, vignette 524-573: Zenon Przesmycki, “Sophos-Virgin-Atessa-Heloise and J. Słowacki’s Unknown Letter“ (“Sofos-Dziewica-Atessa-Helois i nieznany list J. Słowackiego”), essay 524: Ludwik Lewandowski, initial “B”; 528: Ludwik Lewandowski, initial “N”; 531: Ludwik Lewandowski, initial “M”; 542: Ludwik Lewandowski, initial “D”; 559: Ludwik Lewandowski, initial “C” 574-575: William Shakespeare, two sonnets including Sonnet 64 and 66, poetry, Kazimierz Błeszyński (trans.) 574, 575: Stanisław Turbia-Krzyształowicz, vignettes 576: Aubrey Beardsley, expurgated detail of Juvenal scourging a woman, illustration for Juvenal’s Satire VI (1897) [reproduction] 577-581: Jan Lemański, “Fatherland” (“Ojczyzna”), prose 577: Korin, vignette 582-583: Kazimierz Błeszyński, “The Sentimental Man and the Moth” (“Mól i sentymentalik”), prose 583: Korin, vignette 584-588: Cyprian Norwid, “In the Memoir” (“W pamiętniku”), prologue to “Behind the Scenes” (“Za Kulisami”), poetry 584, 588: Józef Mehoffer, vignettes 589-596: “Chronicle” (“Kronika”): 589-592: Zenon Przesmycki, “Jan Stanisławski,” essay (eulogy) 592-596: “Varia” – brief notes about the last volume, Leonardo’s head of Christ from Last Supper, Upanishads and Edward Okuń’s illustrations, Redon’s illustrations included in current volume, new book of Cyrpian Norwid’s prose and German translation, Józef Mehoffer, eulogy for Ludwika Kalenkiewiczowa, new book by Kazimierz Wroczyński 597: Zenon Przesmycki (Miriam), “Final Words” (“Słowa ostatnie”), essay 598-606: Index to Volume X 598, 606: Edward Okuń, vignettes

340

Figures

Figure 1. Jan Matejko. Skarga’s Sermon [Kazanie Skargi]. 1864. Oil on canvas. 224 x 397 cm. Royal Castle, Warsaw.

Figure 2. Karel Hlaváček. Cover for Moderní revue. 1897.

341

Figure 3. Wojciech Weiss. Youth (Młodość). 1899. Reproduced in Life 4, no. 1 (1900): 2.

Figure 4. Gustav Vigeland. Hell. 1897. Bronze. National Galley, Oslo. Two fragments of the relief were reproduced in Life 3, 7 (1899).

342

Figure 5. Wojciech Weiss. Obsession [Opętanie]. 1900. Oil on canvas. 100 x 85 cm. Adam Mickiewicz Museum of Literature.

343

Figure 6. Page from Life 2, no. 15 (1898): 173.

344

Figure 7. Page from Life 2, 25 (1898): 304.

345

Figure 8. Henryk Rauchinger. Title vignette for Life 1, no. 1 (1897): 1.

Figure 9. Title page of Life 2, no. 26 (1898).

346

Figure 10. Stanisław Wyspiański. Study. Reproduced in Life 2, no. 31 (1898): 397.

347

Figure 11. Stanisław Wyspiański. Title vignette for Life 1, no. 2 (1897): 1.

348

Figure 12. Stanisław Wyspiański. Caritas. Reproduced in Life 2, 23 (1898): 273.

Figure 13. Stanisław Wyspiański. Maternity [Macierzyństwo]. 1905. Pastel. 91 x 58.8 cm. National Museum, Krakow.

349

Figure 14. Ephraim Moses Lilien. Vignette. As reproduced in Life 1, no. 9 (1897): 6.

Figure 15. Bolesław Nitecki. Title vignette for Life 1, no. 14 (1897): 1.

350

Figure 16. Teodor Axentowicz. Title vignette for Life 1, no. 10 (1897): 1.

Figure 17. Teodor Axentowicz. Girl with a Vase [Dziewczyna z wazonem]. 1903. Algraphy, black crayon, paper. 45.5 x 30 cm. National Museum, Krakow.

351

Figure 18. Teofil Terlecki. Title vignette for Life 2, no. 22 (1897).

352

Figure 19. Teodor Axentowicz. Cover vignette for Life. 1898.

Figure 20. Teodor Axentowicz. Poster design for the 2nd exhibition of the Society of Polish Artists “Sztuka.” 1898. Color lithograph, paper. 93x62 cm. National Museum, Krakow.

353

Figure 21. Stanisław Wyspiański. View of the Kościuszko Mound from Studio Window [Widok z okna pracowni na Kopiec Kościuszki]. 1904. Pastel. 46.5 x 60.5 cm. Private collection.

Figure 22. Antoni Stanisław Procajłowicz. Title vignette for Life 2, no. 2 (1898): 1.

354

Figure 23. Jan Stanisławski. Winter [Zima]. As reproduced in Life 1, no. 11 (1897).

Figure 24. Jan Stanisławski. Crosses in the Wilderness [Krzyże na pustkowiu]. As reproduced in Life 1, no. 6 (1897): 3.

355

Figure 25. Stanisław Janowski. Vignette. As reproduced in Life 2, no.31 (1898): 410.

Figure 26. Józef Mehoffer. Sketch for The Youth of Art [Młodość sztuki]. 1897. Watercolor on paper. 55 x 35 cm. Private collection.

356

Figure 27. Józef Mehoffer. Drawing from The Youth of Art. As reproduced in Life 1, no. 12 (1898): 12.

Figure 28. Leon Wyczółkowski. The Visitation [Odwiedziny]. Reproduced in b&w in Life 1, 14 (1898): 7.

357

Figure 29. Jacek Malczewski. A Slave’s Inspiration [Natchnienie niewolnika]. C. 1898. As reproduced in Life 2, 26 (1898): 321.

Figure 30. Ephraim Moses Lilien. Poetry and Painting [Poezya i malarstwo]. Title vignette for Life 1, 3 (1897): 1.

358

359

Figure 32. Karel Hlaváček. Title vignette for Life 1, no. 11 (1897): 1.

Figure 33. Ephraim Moses Lilien. Title vignette for Life 1, no. 12 (1897): 1.

360

Figure 34. Title page. Life 2, no. 40/41 (1898).

361

Figure 35. Title page. Life 2, no. 43 (1898).

362

Figure 36. Stanisław Wyspiański. Sesame’s Treasures [Skarby Sezamu]. 1897. Pastel on paper. 202 x 240 cm. National Museum, Kielce. Reproduced in b&w in Life 2, no. 47 (1898): 629.

Figure 37. Edvard Munch. Harpy. 1894. Drypoint print. Munch museet, Oslo. Reproduced as The Phantom (Upiór) in Life 3, no. 40/41 (1899): 524.

363

Figure 38. Wojciech Weiss. The Dance (Taniec). 1899. Oil on canvas. 65 x 99 cm. Private collection. Reproduced in Life 4, no. 1 (1900): np.

Figure 39. Karel Hlaváček. Vignette. Reproduced in Life 2, no. 20 (1898): 232.

364

Figure 40. Karel Hlaváček. Vignettes. Reproduced in Life 2, 40/41 (1898): 533.

Figure 41. Karel Hlaváček. My Christ (Self-portrait). Reproduced as Self (Jaźń) in Life 2, no. 42 (1898): 552.

365

Figure 42. Jan Stanisławski. Poplars [Topole]. 1901. 5-color lithograph. Insert to Chimera 3, 7/8 (1901).

366

Figure 43. Józef Mehoffer. Cover for Chimera 7, no. 19 (1904).

Figure 44. Edward Okuń. Cover vignette for Chimera 1, no. 3 (1901).

367

Figure 45. Alfons Mucha. Cover design for Ver Sacrum (November 1898).

Figure 46. Edward Okuń. Cover design for Chimera 6, no. 17 (1902).

368

Figure 47. Gustave Moreau. Salome. 1876. Drawing. Reproduced in Chimera 10, no. 28-29 (1907): 189.

Figure 48. Felicien Rops. La Grande Lyre. Insert to Chimera 3, no. 7/8 (1901).

369

Figure 49. Tymon Niesiołowski. Queen of the Spiders [Pająków królewna]. Reproduced in Chimera 9, no. 27 (1905): 469.

Figure 50. Józef Mehoffer. Vignette for Sons of the Earth [Synowie ziemi] by Stanisław Przybyszewski. Chimera 1, no. 3 (1901): 401.

370

Figure 51. Konrad Krzyżanowski. Cover for Chimera 3, no. 9 (1901).

Figure 52. Edward Okuń. Cover vignette for Chimera 1, no. 1 (1901).

371

Figure 53. Edward Okuń. Cover for Chimera 10, no. 28/30 (1907).

Figure 54. Edward Okuń. Cover vignette for Chimera 7, no. 20/21 (1904).

372

Figure 55. Edward Okuń. Portrait [Portret]. 1902. Zincotype. Reproduced in Chimera 10, no. 28/29 (1907): 237.

Figure 56. Fernand Khnopff. Dreaming Woman – Nevermore. C. 1900. Reproduced as title page for “Select Works of Georges Rodenbach” in Chimera 4, no. 10/12 (1901): 187.

373

Figure 57. Fernand Khnopff. Frontispiece for Bruges-la-morte by George Rodenbach. 1892. Reproduced as a vignette in Chimera 4, no. 10/12 (1901): 215.

Figure 58. Józef Mehoffer. Cover vignette for Chimera 1, no. 2 (1901).

374

Figure 59. Stanisław Dębicki. Cover for Chimera 3, no. 7/8 (1901).

375

Figure 60. Gustave Moreau. The Chimera. 1867. Oil on panel. 33.02 x 27.31 cm. Harvard University Art Museums, Fogg Art Museum. Heliogravure by R. Paulussen. Insert to Chimera 1, no.1 (1901).

376

Figure 61. Maryan Wawrzeniecki. Cover for Chimera 2, no. 6 (1901).

377

Figure 62. Ignacy Pieńkowski. Annunciation. Half-tone etching. Insert to Chimera 10, no. 28/30 (1907).

378

Figure 63. Józef Mehoffer. Cover for 6, no. 18 (1902).

379

Figure 64. Edward Burne-Jones. King Cophetua and the Beggar Maid. Heliogravure by R. Paulussen. Insert to Chimera 6, no. 16 (1902).

380

Figure 65. Edward Okuń. Initial “P.” Reproduced in Julius Zeyer’s “King Cophetua.” Chimera 6, no. 16 (1902): 3.

Figure 66. Edward Okuń. Vignette. Reproduced in Julius Zeyer’s “King Cophetua.” Chimera 6, no. 16 (1902): 4.

381

Figure 67. Edward Okuń. Vignettes for “Judas” by Jan Kasprowicz. Chimera 4, no. 10/12 (1901): 144.

Figure 68. Edward Okuń. Vignette for “Judas” by Jan Kasprowicz. Chimera 4, no. 10/12 (1901): 162.

382

Figure 69. Edward Okuń. Vignette for “Judas” by Jan Kasprowicz. Chimera 4, no. 10/12 (1901): 163.

Figure 70. Józef Mehoffer. Vignette for “Sons of the Earth” by Stanisław Przybyszewski. Chimera 2, 4/5 (1901): 268.

383

Figure 71. Konrad Krzyżanowski’s tracing of a detail from Hiroshige’s “Juman tsubo plain at Suzaki, Fukagawa” from One hundred views of famous places of Edo. 1857. Reproduced in "Japanese Woodblocks” by Zenon Przesmycki. Chimera 1, no. 3 (1901): 507

Figure 72. Stanisław Dębicki. Initial “B” for "Japanese Woodblocks” by Zenon Przesmycki. Chimera 1, no. 2 (1901): 313.

384

Figure 73. Edward Okuń. Title page for the Upanishads (Kena, Isha and Great Aranya), translated by Wacław Berent. Chimera 10, no. 28/30 (1907): 263

385

Figure 74. Aubrey Beardsley. The Return of Tannhäuser to Venusberg (illustration for The Return of Venus and Tannhäuser). Lithograph. Insert to Chimera 3, no. 9 (1901). Printed reversed.

Figure 75. Józef Mehoffer. Advertisement for Kirsch et Fleckner. 1900.

386

Figure 76. Józef Mehoffer. Cover vignette for Chimera 5, no. 13 (1902).

Figure 77. Józef Mehoffer. Drawing from polychrome designs for Wawel treasury. Reproduced in Chimera 4, no. 10/12 (1901): 428.

387

Figure 78. Józef Mehoffer. Cover for Chimera 5, no.14 (1902).

Figure 79. Franciszek Siedlecki. Ex-libris (Dr. Józef Drzewiecki). Etching. Reproduced in Chimera 9, no. 25 (1905): 140.

388

Selected Bibliography