Gender, Modernism, and Regional Identity: The Promotion and Reception of Künstlerinnen in Düsseldorf and the Rhineland, 1890-1920

By Anne Marie Mitzen

B.A., Loyola Marymount University, 1996 A. M., Brown University, 1999

Submitted in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy in the Department of History of Art and Architecture at Brown University

Providence, Rhode Island May 2011

© Copyright 2011 by Anne M. Mitzen

This dissertation by Anne M. Mitzen is accepted in its present form by the Department of the History of Art and Architecture and satisfying the dissertation requirement for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy

Date ______Hervé Vanel, Advisor

Recommended to the Graduate Council

Date ______K. Dian Kriz, Reader

Date ______Jenny Anger, Reader

Approved by the Graduate Council

Date ______Peter M. Weber, Dean of the Graduate School

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VITA

Anne M. Mitzen Born August 8, 1974 Whittier, California

Education Ph.D. 2011 Brown University, History of Art and Architecture Dissertation: Gender, Modernism, and Regional Identity: The Promotion and Reception of Künstlerinnen in Düsseldorf and the Rhineland, 1890-1920

A.M. 1999 Brown University, History of Art and Architecture Qualifying Paper: The Harmony of Discord: Kandinsky and the German Negotiation of Matisse and Picasso

B.A. 1996 Loyola Marymount University, Cum Laude Humanities major/ German concentration, Music and Communication Arts minor

Professional Experience 2000-2001 Teaching Assistant, Rhode Island School of Design, Introduction to Art History

1998-2000 Teaching Assistant, Brown University, Nineteenth Century Architecture, Contemporary Architecture, Film Architecture

1999 Curatorial Intern, National Gallery of Art, Department of Summer Prints and Drawings, Washington D.C.

1996-1997 Curatorial Intern, Bonner Kunstverein/ Bonn Art Society, Bonn, Germany

1995 Gallery Assistant, Sharon Truax Fine Arts, Venice, Spring California

Grants and Fellowships 2002 Joukowsky Fellowship, Brown University Summer

2001-2002 DAAD/ German Academic Exchange Service Research Fellowship

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1996-1997 Fulbright Grant, University of Cologne, Germany

1995 Eugene A. Escallier Grant Summer

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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

As with any dissertation, this project has been an enormous undertaking, and I am deeply indebted to the many scholars who have generously offered their time, guidance, and support throughout the research and writing process. Firstly, I would like to thank the Department of the History of Art and Architecture at Brown University, and my doctoral advisor, Hervé Vanel. I am also deeply indebted to K. Dian Kriz for her encouragement over the years and many helpful suggestions to the manuscript. My heartfelt thanks go to Jenny Anger, at Grinnell College, who as my third reader went above and beyond the call of duty to offer her scholarly advice and, no less important, encourage me to persevere. This dissertation bears the scholarly imprint of those who sadly passed away before it could be completed. It has been greatly enriched by Kermit

Swiler Champa, who expertly and patiently guided me through my graduate studies, and

Beeke Sell Tower, both of whom offered invaluable advice in the formulation of this project.

My research in Germany was generously funded by a grant from the DAAD and a

Joukowsky Fellowship. In Düsseldorf, I would like to thank Gertrude Cepl-Kaufmann at

Heinrich Heine University, Elisabeth Scheeben at the Stadtarchiv, and Sabine Brenner at the Heinrich-Heine-Institut. It was a pleasant surprise to discover a fellow American, the incredibly helpful Dawn Leach, director of the archive of the Kunstakademie. Michael

Matzigkeit at the Düsseldorf Theatermuseum spent an afternoon enthusiastically introducing me to many leading figures of Düsseldorf‘s theater and cultural scene.

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Additionally, I would like to thank Klara Drenker-Nagels at the August-Macke-Haus in

Bonn and Beate Fromme at the Karl-Ernst-Osthaus-Archiv in Hagen.

I am so grateful for my friends and family, who over the years have offered countless words of encouragement and demonstrated an unfailing belief in my ability to complete this monumental task. Amanda Burdan provided insightful suggestions on early drafts. Hywel Jones and Jenny Shearer offered their love and support, as well as provided many wonderful diversions to my research. Bill Childree served faithfully and energetically as my champion in Germany, and was always there to share each milestone on this journey. My wonderful host family, Luitgarde, Eckart, Katharina, and Nikolaus

Schlemm and Spes Pompe, gave me roots in my second home since my time as a college exchange student in Bonn—and provided me with an excellent foundation for researching in the German language. I want to give special thanks to my parents, Paul and Kathleen Mitzen, for their unconditional love and support, as well as their generous financial assistance, which enabled me to concentrate on writing. In addition, my grandmother, Meta Goble, made funding my first year at Brown possible. She is dearly missed. Finally, and most of all, I am deeply indebted to my best friend of fourteen years,

Michael O. Voll, without whose friendship, wisdom, and unwavering support none of this would have been possible. I feel truly blessed.

Anne M. Mitzen September 2010

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CONTENTS

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS………………………………………………………………..iv

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS…………………………………………………………....viii

INTRODUCTION Origins of Rhenish Cultural Identity: Heimat and the Loreley…....1

CHAPTER 1. Artistic Opportunities for Women in Düsseldorf………....………26

2. The Education of Künstlerinnen in Düsseldorf…..…….….……...62

3. Debates Over Rhenish Identity……..……………………..…….109

4. The Frauen Exhibitions at the Düsseldorf Flechtheim Gallery and the Negotiation of International Modernism……..…………157

ILLUSTRATIONS...……………………………………..…………………………….211

BIBLIOGRAPHY.………………..…………………………………………………….278

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ILLUSTRATIONS

Fig. 1 Carl Joseph Begas, Lureley, 1835, Kreismuseum Heinsberg

Fig. 2 Photograph of the Venusteich, Germanenzug, 1877, Künstler Verein Malkasten, Düsseldorf

Fig. 3 Peter Cornelius, Hagen versenkt den Nibelungenhort (Hagen Sinks the Nibelung Treasure), 1859, Staatliche Museen zu Berlin – Preussischer Kulturbesitz, Alte Nationalgalerie

Fig. 4 Eduard Jakob von Steinle, Loreley, 1864, Schack-Galerie Munich

Fig. 5 Friedrich Wilhelm Marterstieg, Loreley, c. 1872, Archiv St. Goarshausen

Fig. 6 Philipp Veit, Germania, 1848, Germanisches Nationalmuseum Nuremberg

Fig. 7 Emanuel Leutze, Fest der deutschen Einheit (Festival of German Unity), 1848, Künstler Verein Malkasten, Düsseldorf

Fig. 8 Lorenz Clasen, Germania auf der Wacht am Rhein (Germania Keeping Watch on the Rhine), 1860, Kaiser Wilhelm Museum, Krefeld

Fig. 9 Johannes Schilling, model of the Niederwald Monument, 1875, Bismarck- Museum, Friedrichsruh

Fig. 10 Karl Janssen and Johannes Tüshaus, Vater Rhein und seine Töchter (Father Rhine and his Daughters), installed 1897, Düsseldorf

Fig. 11 Gustav Rutz, Düsselnixe (Düssel Nymph), c. 1898, Düsseldorf

Fig. 12 Reinhold Begas, detail of Rhine nymph, Neptune Fountain, designed 1878, executed 1886-91, Berlin

Fig. 13 Hans Thoma, Das Rheintal bei Säckingen (The Rhine Valley near Säckingen), 1899, Staatliche Kunsthalle Karlsruhe

Fig. 14 Catalogue of the 1910 Rhein im Bild exhibition, Verband der Kunstfreunde in den Ländern am Rhein

Fig. 15 Moritz von Schwind, Vater Rhein spielt die Fiedel Volkers (Father Rhine Playing Volker‟s Fiddle), c. 1865, Schack-Galerie Munich

Fig. 16 Peter Becker, Rhine landscape, 1890, 1910 Rhein im Bild exhibition

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Fig. 17 Emilie Preyer, Früchtestillleben mit Blumen im Glas uvind Sektschale (Fruit Still Life with Flowers in a Glass and Champagne Goblet), undated, Galerie Paffrath, Düsseldorf

Fig. 18 Photograph of Magda Kröner, undated, Düsseldorf Stadtarchiv

Fig. 19 Magda Kröner, Stilleben (Still Life), 1904, Kunstmuseum Düsseldorf im Ehrenhof

Fig. 20 Photo of Hanny Stüber in her atelier, 1908, Frauen-Kultur-Archiv, Heinrich- Heine-Universität Düsseldorf

Fig. 21 Advertisement for painting school of Hanny Stüber and Else Neumüller, Neue Deutsche Frauen-Zeitung, 1909

Fig. 22 Studies, advanced class for Ornamental and Figural Woodcutting, Düsseldorf Decorative Arts School, Jahresbericht über die Kunstgewerbeschule zu Düsseldorf, 1883-1893

Fig. 23 Diploma of Gertrud Eckermann, March 1907, Düsseldorf Decorative Arts School, Private collection

Fig. 24 Nature studies (butterfly wings), Bruckmüller class, Düsseldorf Decorative Arts School, Dekorative Kunst 7 (1904)

Fig. 25 Batik and weaved textiles, Ehmcke class, Düsseldorf Decorative Arts School, Dekorative Kunst 7 (1904)

Fig. 26 Gertrud Eckermann, Gobelin Tapestry, c. 1909, Ring, Hft. 3 (February 1909), Private collection

Fig. 27 Photograph of Anna Simons writing with a quill pen, 1932

Fig. 28 Anna Simons, 4th edition translation of Johnson‘s 1905 manual, Writing and Illuminating, and Lettering

Fig. 29 Anna Simons, script for architrave of the German Reichstag, Berlin, installed 1916

Fig. 30 Photograph of Anna Simons teaching at the Düsseldorf Academy, 1933

Fig. 31 Otto Dix, Bildnis der Kunsthändlerin Johanna Ey (Portrait of the Dealer Johanna Ey), 1924, Private collection

Fig. 32 Fritz Westendorp, Johanna Ey als Hebamme bei der Geburt des “Jungen Rheinland” (Johanna Ey as Midwife to the Birth of the Young Rhineland), 1919, Museum Kunstpalast Düsseldorf

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Fig. 33 Else Deusser-Albert, Hyazinthe (Hyacinths), date and location unknown, 1910 Sonderbund catalogue

Fig. 34 Ottilie Reylaender, Zitronenbaum (Lemon Tree), 1908/09, unlocated, 1910 Sonderbund catalogue

Fig. 35 Milly Steger, Schreitendes Mädchen (Striding Girl), date and location unknown, 1910 Sonderbund catalogue

Fig. 36 Fritz Helmuth Ehmcke, placard for the 1910 Sonderbund exhibition

Fig. 37 Floor plan of the 1910 Sonderbund exhibition

Fig. 38 Photograph of Emma Volck, undated

Fig. 39 Emma Volck, Batik Pillow, 1909/10, Germanisches Nationalmuseum Nuremberg

Fig. 40 Anneliese Wildeman, Flügeldecke (Piano Cover), date and location unknown, 1912 Sonderbund catalogue

Fig. 41 Johan Thorn Prikker, 1911, Der Künstler als Lehrer für Handel und Gewerbe (The Artist as Teacher for Trade and Commerce), Hagen Train Station

Fig. 42 Gertud Engau, Batik Shawl, c. 1909, unlocated, Ring, Hft. 3 (February 1909)

Fig. 43 Ernst Te Peerdt, Fischköderfangen am Inn (Catching Fish Bait on the Inn), 1892, Galerie Paffrath, Düsseldorf

Fig. 44 Heinrich Nauen, Die Ernte (The Harvest), 1909-10, unlocated

Fig. 45 Heinrich Nauen, Gartenbild (Garden), Drove Cycle, 1913, Städtisches Museum Abteiberg, Mönchengladbach

Fig. 46 Marie von Malachowski, Vase mit Kapuzinerkresse (Vase with Nasturtium), c. 1910, Private collection

Fig. 47 Photograph of the Flechtheim Gallery, Königsallee 34, Düsseldorf

Fig. 48 Paula Modersohn Becker, Kinderwagen (Children‟s Buggy), c. 1904, unlocated

Fig. 49 Advertisement for the Flechtheim Gallery, Kunstblatt, Hft. 5 (May 1921)

Fig. 50 Marie Laurencin, Les jeunes Filles (The Young Girls), c. 1913, unlocated

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Fig. 51 Marta Worringer, Gesticktes Bild (Embroidered Image), date and location unknown

Fig. 52 Marie Laurencin, Hôtel de la Marine, 1914, Estate of Marie Laurencin

Fig. 53 Marie Laurencin, La Dame au mouchoir (Woman with Handkerchief), date and location unknown

Fig. 54 Gertrud Klihm, Holzschnitt (Woodcut), date and location unknown

Fig. 55 Marie Laurencin, Les Sirènes (Sirens), 1920, Estate of Marie Laurencin

Fig. 56 Marie Laurencin, La Chevauchée ou les Amazones (The Amazons), 1921, Estate of Marie Laurencin

Fig. 57 Gertrud Kaiser, Salome, date and location unknown

Fig. 58 Luise Hellersberg, Kreuzigung (Crucifixion), date and location unknown

Fig. 59 Hedwig Petermann, Expulsion from Eden, date and location unknown

Fig. 60 Marie Laurencin, Sommer (Summer), 1921, Landesbibilothek Düsseldorf

Fig. 61 Marie Laurencin, Self-Portrait, 1920, Hamburger Kunsthalle

Fig. 62 Claire Volkhart, Tanzgruppe (Dancers), 1912, unlocated

Fig. 63 Irma Goecke, Fischer (Fisher), date and location unknown

Fig. 64 Advertisement for atelier of Ilse Forberg, 1919, II. Frauen Exhibition Catalogue

Fig. 65 Ilse Forberg, Heinrich Nauen, date and location unknown

Fig. 66 Willy Frohsinn, photograph of Gertrud Klihm, Düsseldorfer Theaterwoche 2, Hft. 28 (1911)

Fig. 67 Gertrud Klihm, costume design for Lady Macbeth, c. 1908, Archiv Düsseldorf Theatermuseum

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Introduction

Origins of Rhenish Cultural Identity: Heimat and the Loreley

The concepts of the Rhineland and ―Rhenish‖ identity have been highly variable throughout the region‘s history. All of the ways in which one can define the Rhineland have shown a remarkable degree of flexibility, down to even in the most basic geographical terms. Although the boundaries of the territory designated the

―Rheinprovinz‖ by Prussia were officially defined in 1815, even into the 20th century cultural descriptions of the Rhineland as a distinctive region have been broad enough to include Switzerland in the south and Holland in the north. In the broadest sense, connections to the Rhine River unified artists and intellectuals who sought out specific symbols and tropes to signify this area and its people as a collective region. Throughout the 19th century, concepts of the ‗feminine‘ intersected with attempts to create a cohesive national identity, both leading up to and following the German unification in 1871.

That idealized images of women played such a significant role in the construction of regional and national identity gave them a heightened importance in the cultural and social dialogue. Frequently, women used these tropes to create opportunities: the notion of women as guardians of home and hearth enabled their entry into the field of the decorative arts; notions of femininity and sexuality made them an ideal and non- threatening bridge to the lessons of French art; and the role of women as moral and cultural guardians made them well-suited for the artistic displays of deeply-held regional values of spirituality and tradition. Just as often, however, many of these tropes could create barriers. Idealized visions of women were often the foundation of what was and was not ―acceptable‖ media, frequently excluding entire fields of high art from their

1 supposed realms of competence. Similarly, notions of the character and capacity of women were used more generally to justify the positing of female limitations, both in terms of intellectual ability and creative potential. The durability of these tropes, and how female artists negotiated them, makes them integral to the understanding of female artistic production and promotion in early 20th century Düsseldorf and the Rhineland.

Loreley and Germania: Female Symbols of Identity

Throughout the 19th century, the Romantic Movement in Germany was prevalent in art, literature, and music and was characterized by a search for—or invention of— mythical traditions. The founders of the movement were in large part reacting to the rationalism of the French Enlightenment and focused on an interaction with nature and the emotional, usually tragic, content of the scene. These emotions were often invoked through the portrayal of disasters or scenes from mythology. Artists modeled these myths after antiquity or the revival of medieval tales and sagas. The Rhine landscape itself, with its many castles and ruins, played an important role in inspiring artists, authors and composers during this period and was also in times of political tensions a potent image of regional pride.

The most famous embodiment of the Rhineland was female: the Loreley. This iconic figure was portrayed throughout the 19th century in art, literature, and politics as a symbol of a collective regional identity. Much of the evolution of German identity can be traced through the images of the Loreley throughout the 19th century. This figure, which began as a symbol of romantic poetry and mythical nostalgia, would by the end of the 19th century evolve into a nationalistic figure, whose portrayal often elided with the

2 protective and militaristic figure of Germania. The figure of the Loreley was introduced by the author Clemens Brentano in his novel, Godwi, first published in 1801. Included in a ballad entitled, ―Zu Bacharach am Rheine,‖ Brentano for the first time attached the figure of a melancholy enchantress to a narrow curve in the Rhine with rocky cliffs known as the ―Lore Ley,‖ an old German expression meaning ―murmuring rock.‖

Brentano‘s Loreley was a beauty who threw herself from the cliffs after being abandoned by her lover. The tale relied heavily upon Greek mythology, with elements of both the pining nymph Echo as well as the seductive Sirens, for the area was well known for its dangerous rocks and strong currents.

Over the years, there were many retellings of the Loreley legend in German literature, with the most enduring version being that of the renowned Düsseldorf author

Heinrich Heine in his famous poem ―Ich weiß nicht was soll es bedeuten‖ (1823).

Signaling its resonance, this poem was set to music in over forty versions, with Friedrich

Silcher‘s 1837 version being the most popular. Heine‘s poem told the tale of a bewitching maiden perched upon the rocks and singing a haunting melody that lured shipmen to their doom:

A wondrous lovely maiden Sits high in glory there; Her robe with gems is laden, And she combs out her golden hair.1

These early literary images of the Loreley highlighted the romantic ideals in which the

Loreley was a tragic figure; unlike the sirens of Greek mythology, she was not maliciously or intentionally luring the sailors to their doom. As the Loreley figure

1 Heinrich Heine, ―The Lorelei,‖ trans. Charles G. Leland, in The Universal Anthology: A Collection of the Best Literature, Ancient, Medieval and Modern, vol. 22, ed. Richard Garnett, Leon Vallée, and Alois Brandl (London: The Clarke Company, 1899), 150.

3 evolved throughout the 19th century, however, she became increasingly portrayed as a more aggressive femme fatale in various guises such as nymph, sorceress, and fairy. This evolution was also echoed in the visual arts, in which the Loreley was a popular motif.

One of the earliest examples in painting was the Lureley (1835) by Carl Joseph

Begas (fig. 1). Begas (1794-1854) depicts the Loreley figure and the doomed shipmen within a dark and foreboding Rhine landscape. Here the Loreley‘s act of seduction is a demonstration of thwarted male desire. Begas emphasizes the failure of the male figures to connect with the object of their longing by depicting the Loreley with her gaze cast downwards toward the precipice, lost in the melody of her lute playing. Meanwhile, the shipmen gaze up at the Loreley, with one extending his hand towards her in a futile attempt to reach her. In addition to the tragedy of the scene, where both parties are ensnared in their own fate, the figure of the Loreley is also highly eroticized. The theatrical lighting is focused on the bared breast of the Loreley, reflecting off her long golden curls and the rich silk brocade of her gown. Although she does not meet their gaze, she is turned and bent slightly towards them, with her bared breast only partly concealed in gauzy fabric. In contrast, dark foreboding clouds extend into the horizon over the Rhine, heightening the dramatic tension. Above the scene, the lunettes echo the romantic themes of love, temptation, and death, portraying lovers both together and then separated, surrounded by sea nymphs and a serpent. In this interpretation, the landscape of the Rhine and the myth of the Loreley represent for the romantic artist both a site of seduction and danger. Surrounding the Loreley figure are other narrative clues—the mirror and the pearl necklace—that allude to the play of seduction and self-absorption.

These items, plus the inclusion of a golden vessel are, as noted by Matthias Vogel, also

4 iconographic attributes a courtesan.2 Images such as these of fallen or disgraced women are, as art historian Lynda Nead notes, common tropes for a nation‘s social anxieties during times of perceived threats and moral crises, and so may have had particular import during the political turmoil of the 1840s .3

Throughout the nineteenth century, the Loreley remained a popular motif in

Rhenish culture. There were Rhine maiden performances as well, such as the 1877

Germanenzug (Germanic Parade, fig. 2), held by the Düsseldorf Malkasten association—one of the oldest artist organizations in Germany. Held in honor of and attended by the Kaiser, the Malkasten garden was transformed by local artists into a grotto, including a tableau vivant of female singers, dressed in white and producing, as described by one local paper, ―from the rocks, the singing of nymphs from the Rhine.‖4

The images and the mythology of the Loreley soon became intertwined with what art historian Marsha Morton has called the ―epic that most embodied the myth of a powerful Germany,‖ namely medieval German poem Nibelungenlied.5 Most famously,

Richard Wagner combined elements of the Nibelungenlied with Norse mythology for his

Romantic opera cycle, The Ring (1848-74). Wagner‘s opera both expanded upon these old myths and created new images that placed many symbols of the Rhineland at the center of a new trove of German iconography. At its focus was a ring forged from stolen

2 Matthias Vogel, “Melusine…das lässt aber tief blicken.” Studien zur Gestalt der Wasserfrau in dichterischen und künstlerischen Zeugnissen des 19. Jahrhundert, Europäische Hochschulschriften 28 (Bern: Lang, 1989), 107. 3 Lynda Nead, Myths of Sexuality: Representations of Women in Victorian Britain (Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1988), 94. 4 As quoted in Sabine Schroyen, ―Kat. Nr. 125: Unbekannter Photograph,‖ in Feste zur Ehre und zum Vergnügen: Künstlerfeste des 19. und frühen 20 Jahrhunderts, ed. Ingrid Bodsch (Bonn: Stadtmuseum Bonn, 1998), 226. All translations are by the author unless otherwise noted. 5 Marsha Morton, ―German Romanticism: The Search for ‗A Quiet Place,‘‖ in Negotiating History: German Art and the Past, Museum Studies 28, no. 1, ed. Jay A. Clarke (Chicago: The Art Institute of Chicago, 2002), 20.

5 gold from the Rhine that had been guarded by three playful nymphs known as the Rhine maidens.

Many leading artists of the Düsseldorf School explored The Ring‘s potential for expression of both epic themes and a collective national identity. One the most notable examples was a work by Peter Cornelius (1783-1867), who was born in Düsseldorf and was at the Academy as both as a student (1798-ca. 1805) and later as its director (1819-

1824.). His painting Hagen Sinks the Nibelung Treasure (1859; fig. 3) brought together three of the most iconic—yet largely unconnected—tropes of the Rhine: that of the

Loreley, Father Rhine, and the Rhinegold, the treasure at the center of Wagner‘s Ring

Cycle. The masculine personification of Father Rhine and the feminine Loreley are seated at left, observing the scene. The sexuality and seductive nature of the Loreley is echoed by the Rhine nymphs at the center of the painting (depicted here as mermaids).

They combine the tropes of feminine sensuality, as they playfully frolic in the water, with feminine danger, as two of the nymphs at right appear to be attempting to pull one of

Hagen‘s men into the Rhine. By combining these iconic Rhenish figures with older

Germanic myths, Cornelius asserted the Rhineland‘s importance in the broader national culture—a point that the Rhine Province underscored when they presented a drawing of this image to the Prussian Crown Prince Wilhelm.6 In doing so, the Rhine Province effectively conveyed to Prussia the Rhineland‘s reclaiming of own artistic and cultural legacy.

Over the decades, the Loreley figure evolved from a tragic maiden to a more predatory, almost Amazonian image, echoing the growing militarization and nationalism

6 Anna Czarnocka, ―Hagen versenkt den Nibelunghort,‖ in Marianne und Germania 1789-1889: Frankreich und Deutschland. Zwei Welten – Eine Revue, ed. Marie-Louise von Plessen (Berlin: Argon, 1996), 56.

6 in Germany that culminated in the Franco-Prussian War (1870-1871). The Loreley (1864) of Eduard Jakob von Steinle (1810-1886, fig. 4) shows the transition, according to Rita

Müllejans-Dickmann, of the figure ―from the Madonna-like ‗femme fragile‘ to the lascivious man killer ‗femme fatale,‘‖ incorporating even elements of the Medusa with her serpentine hair and Greek gown.7 While still an image of seduction, the delicate sensuality is now almost completely absent. Her profile is ominously masked in shadow and she is fully clothed, in stark contrast to the emphasis on the ivory skin of the Foltz image. Steinle‘s composition adopts a vertical format, in which the colossal figure of the

Loreley stands perilously on an outcropping of the steep, solid rock and extends upwards and out of the picture plane. The figure towers over not only the Rhine landscape below but the full moon as well. In the depths below, Steinle depicts in contrast a fragile sail, where a sailor, held back by his crewman, cries out to the Loreley. Whereas Foltz‘s

Loreley as a river nymph seated on a bed of lush green overgrowth, here only a few weeds cling to the barren rocks, in a far more stark landscape of desolation and death. In this depiction, Loreley embodies the menacing forces of nature: her body merging with the cliffs, the folds of her gown mirroring the lines in the craggy rock, and her windswept hair electric as if conjuring a storm. No longer a passive participant in the seduction,

Loreley now actively seeks out her victims. She bends forward with her arm raised high above her head to hail the sailors. Although her mouth is open and there is a lute present, it appears that her singing is forgotten entirely in favor of calling out for their attention.

These predatory elements can also be found in a painting by Friedrich Wilhelm

Marterstieg, a painter of the Düsseldorf School, whose Loreley (c. 1872; fig. 5) was

7 Rita Müllejans-Dickmann, ‗―und kämmt ihr goldenes Haar:‖ Anatomie eines Frauenbildes,‘ in Die Loreley. Ein Fels im Rhein. Ein deutscher Traum, ed. Mario Kramp and Matthias Schmandt (Mainz am Rhein: Verlag Philipp von Zabern, 2004), 87, 89.

7 painted after a now lost work by Carl Ferdinand Sohn. In this painting, the Loreley is a similarly Amazonian figure who keeps vigilant watch over the Rhine. The effect is heightened by the position of the figure in the immediate foreground of the painting, causing the viewer to look up at her. While still predatory, this Loreley is far less wild— her gaze is cool and calculating, cradling her lyre in one hand as she leans in one arm for a closer look.

This transformation of the Loreley image in large part likely reflected the increasing political tensions that centered upon the Rhine. From the beginning of the 19th century, Germany‘s longest river constituted a natural border with France. French troops had occupied the left bank of the Rhine since 1794, which was officially ceded to France in 1801 as part of the Treaty of Lunéville. The Rhine was used both in France and in

Germany to assert political power as well as to clearly delineate itself from the ―other.‖

This difference was frequently cast in sexualized terms, as was the military threat that

France presented. As historian Susanne Zantop has observed, ―the fear of becoming

‗feminized‘ through the French ‗rape‘ of German territories seems to have preoccupied not just [late 18th century German cultural historian Christoph] Meiners, but many

German intellectuals of the time.‖8 The Rhine became the center for a rallying cry against the French, as reflected by Heinrich von Kleist‘s 1809 poem, ―Germania und ihre

Kinder,‖ which contained the highly inflammatory line, ―Plug the Rhine with their

[French] corpses.‖ Another telling slogan came from Ernst Moritz Arndt‘s pamphlet,

8 Susanne Zantop, ―The Beautiful, the Ugly, and the German: Race, Gender, and Nationality in Eighteenth- Century Anthropological Discourse,‖ in Gender and Germanness: Cultural Productions of Nation, Modern German Studies 4, ed. Partricia Herminghouse and Magda Mueller (Providence: Berghahn Books, 1997), 30.

8 which called the Rhine ―Germany‘s river, not Germany‘s border.‖9 The Rhineland remained under French rule until the defeat of Napoleon in 1814, whereupon the Rhenish and Westphalian territories came under Prussian rule.

Tensions came to a head once again during the ―Rhine crisis‖ of 1840, when

French prime minister Adolphe Theirs sent 100,000 troops into Alsace-Lorraine. This led to a cultural battle (Sängerkrieg) in both literature and song, instigated in large part by

Nikolaus Becker in his ―Rheinlied‖ (1840) poem: ―They should not have it/ the free

German Rhine.‖ This was soon followed by Max Schneckenberger, whose 1840 poem

―Die Wacht am Rhein/ The Watch on the Rhine‖ provided a call to arms. It was set to music by Karl Wilhelms and became an unofficial second German national anthem:

On the Rhine, on the Rhine, on the free German Rhine, We all want to be its guardian10

The liberation of the Rhine was an attempt to create a cause that would be supported by all Germans at a time when the country was still a loose confederation of states. Given that the Rhine was portrayed as needing to be freed from its captors so that the German people could become ―its guardian,‖ it is perhaps not surprising how frequently the Rhine took on a feminized form.

In the face of these rising tensions, as increased politicized fervor and nationalistic rhetoric grew in both countries, the Loreley symbol was modified to convey a more powerful militaristic image. Thus, the figure of Loreley was frequently merged with the figure of Germania, the victory goddess and symbol of power. The Germania

9 Hannelore Scholz, ―Die Loreley im interkulturellen Diskurs. Vom poetischen zum nationalen Mythos,‖ in Interkulturalität und Nationalkultur in der deutschsprachigen Literatur, ed. Maja Razbojnikova-Frateva and Hans-Gerd Winter (Dresden: Thelem, 2006), 143. 10 Am Rhein, am Rhein, am deutschen Rhein/ wir alle wollen Hüter sein

9 figure had already been employed as a personification of a more unified Germany, such as the image of Germania by Philipp Veit adorning the Paulskirche at the 1848 Frankfurt

Congress (fig. 6). Germania here was depicted carrying the German flag with the imperial eagle on her breastplate. Like the Loreley, 19th century depictions of Germania drew upon mythology, in this case images of Minerva/Athena as well as early Roman personifications of the conquered German lands. Classical images of Germania often represented her in chains (Germania capta), a theme echoed in the iconography of an independent Germany, such as Veit‘s image, where broken shackles lie at her feet. The

Germania figure was frequently at the center of public displays of German nationalism that took place throughout the country. For example, on August 6, 1848 the Festival of

German Unity (Fest der Deutschen Einheit) was held in Düsseldorf. As seen in a contemporary representation by the Academy painter Emanuel Leutze (fig. 7), over a hundred local artists erected a 5-meter tall statue of Germania, notably decorated with the imperial eagle.11

The extent of this nationalistic Germania fervor can be seen in the transformation of the Loreley, such as in Lorenz Clasen‘s widely reproduced image Germania Keeping

Watch on the Rhine (1860, fig. 8). Clasen drew his inspiration from Schenkenberger‘s poem as a collective call to arms and depicted the Germania figure not as a sensuous female figure but rather, drawing from Wagner, as a formidable Valkyrie with raised sword. In place of lute or lyre, Germania steadies a shield in her right hand as she looks out in profile over the Rhine, keeping watch on the enemy France. Her shield bears the inscription: ―The German sword protects the German Rhine.‖ This shift from Loreley to

11 Schroyen, ―Kat. Nr. 1: Emanuel Leutze,‖ in Feste zur Ehre und zum Vergnügen, 20-21.

10

Germania represents not only a shift from the sensual to the militaristic, but from seductress to guardian.

The importance of the Germania figure as a victory symbol and personification of a newly unified Germany increased in the wake of the patriotic fervor after the defeat of

France in 1871. At the time, the writer Johann Christian Glücklich had led a call for a

Loreley monument in his publication, Exhortation and Wake-up Call to the German

People and all German Thinking and Feeling People Near and Far (1874).12 A conservative government committee, with the approval of Kaiser Wilhelm I, however, preferred the more militaristic Germania, and so, not surprisingly, it was the Germania figure that was featured in a colossal national monument unveiled in the Niederwald in

1883 (fig. 9).13 This statue was purported to be a monument to peace, rather than a celebration of the victory and subsequent annexation of the French Alsace and Lorraine provinces, so as not to worsen tensions with France. The French, for their part, were not convinced. Commented one French reporter: ―Whatever the Germans might say,

Germania remains a work of military vanity and is not the mystical lady we are meant to believe.‖14 The French objections were not unfounded; in addition to the overt militaristic allusions, in an unsubtle act of symbolism, the Germania figure was cast out of looted French canons.15

Designed by Johannes Schilling, the Niederwald Monument stands an imposing

820 feet above the Rhine near Rüdesheim. The monument itself measures approximately

12 Mahn- und Weckruf an das deutsche Volk und alle deutsch Denkenden und Fühlenden nah und fern. 13 Lutz Tittel, Das Niederwald Denkmal 1871-1883 (Hildesheim: Gerstenberg, 1979), 125. 14 Tittel, 29. 15 Ernst-Ullrich Pinkert, ―Differenz und Identität, Krieger und Sänger. Zur Rheinsymbolik bei Heine und in der deutschen Lyrik des 19. Jahrhunderts,‖ in Schriftenreihe Literaturwissenschaft, vol. 41, Differenz und Identität. Heinrich Heine (1797-1856): Europäische Perspektiven um 19. Jahrhundert, ed. Alfred Opitz (Trier: Wissenschaftler Verlag, 1997), 255-6.

11

132 feet high and 120 feet wide, featuring the bronze figure of Germania who casts her gaze over the Rhine. She is depicted wearing a breastplate and holding the imperial sword in her left hand, while raising the emperor‘s crown high above her head with her right hand. Below the figure, the main inscription reads: ―In honor of the unanimous, victorious elevation of the German people and the restoration of the German Reich 1870-

71.‖ Forming a triangle with these figures is the imperial eagle, a motif echoed in both

Germania‘s dress and the embellishments in her throne. She is flanked below by two winged allegorical figures on smaller pedestals, of war, bearing trumpet and sword, and peace, cradling a cornucopia and extending a laurel branch. The central relief depicts

Kaiser Wilhelm I on horseback, surrounded by Bismarck and other kings and military figures, and the two side reliefs depict soldiers leaving and then returning home. In a continuation of the tradition of the Loreley sentry, five stanzas of Schneckenberger‘s

―Watch on the Rhine‖ were inscribed in the base of the statute.

There were some, however, who objected to the female personifications of the nation. Bismarck himself opposed the Niederwald Germania and even boycotted its unveiling. He later commented, ―I find the figure of the Germania to be unsuitable. A female figure with sword in this provocative [raised] position is unnatural. Every officer would be of the same opinion. A masculine figure would have been better suited here, a lansquenet or one of the old German Kaisers.‖16 In spite of how unnatural this may have seemed to Bismarck, such militaristic female personifications were common in Europe at the time. Britannia (Great Britain), Mother Svea (Sweden), Italia Turrita (Italy), and even Marianne (France) were commonly portrayed in military garb, brandishing sword

16 Tittel, 109.

12 and shield. This removal of feminine traces of sensuality or vulnerability was critical in their transformation into guardians and protectors.

In addition to the Germania figure, the Niederwald monument also included a personification of the Rhine itself, seen in the ―Father Rhine‖ in repose at the base of the monument. This Father Rhine figure was a well-known figure in German romantic art and literature throughout the 19th century. However, it is perhaps notable that this masculine depiction was employed now that the Rhine had been transformed from an endangered border river to a wholly German river—a transformation depicted by Father

Rhine handing over his alarm horn to the new border river, a female Mosel.

This masculine figure of Father Rhine—often paired with his ―daughters‖ the tributaries—was a common personification and figured prominently in 19th century fountain sculptures. One example is the fountain installed in Düsseldorf in 1897 by Karl

Janssen and Johannes Tüshaus (fig. 10). This fountain portrayed Father Rhine upon the rocks, surrounded by his daughters and several putti. Two of these daughters also represent the prominence of the Rhineland region in the areas of industry and painting.17

Below, a dragon guards the Nibelung treasure, the imperial sword, and crown. Originally created for a festival in 1884, the sculpture proved so popular that it was cast into bronze and permanently installed in front of the provincial parliament building.18 Düsseldorf‘s own tributary, the Düssel, received a similar feminine personification by Gustav Rutz, in his limestone sculpture for the park of the Malkasten (c. 1898; fig. 11). The reclining nude tips the Düssel from her urn, while flanked by two putti.

17 Friedrich Schaarschmidt, Zur Geschichte der Düsseldorfer Kunst, insbesondere im XIX Jahrhundert (Düsseldorf: Verlag des Kunstvereins für die Rheinlande und Westfalen, 1902), 381. 18 Rolf Purpar, Kunststadt Düsseldorf: Objekte und Denkmäler im Stadtbild (Düsseldorf: Grupello, 2009), 177.

13

Although in portrayals of the river the Father Rhine figure was more common, there was at least one notable female personification of the Rhine. The Neptune Fountain

(fig. 12) in Berlin by Reinhold Begas (1831-1911, son of Carl) was designed in 1878 and executed from 1886-91. Constructed for the Schlossplatz with the backdrop of the baroque castle, the Rhine is depicted as one of four personifications of the major German rivers—the Rhine, Elbe, Oder, and Vistula.19 The figure of the Rhine reclines, with her legs slightly crossed. Attributes of the Rhineland surround her: the bale of tobacco and leaves from the Palatinate, her gold jewelry referencing the jewelry-making trade, and grapes for its wine production.20 In a clear reference to Bernini‘s Fountain of Four

Rivers in Rome, the rivers are positioned beneath a large statue of Neptune presiding from above upon an opened scallop shell. Begas had spent considerable time in Rome, first as a student from 1856-8, as well as subsequent visits in 1863-5 and 1867-8.21 This female portrayal might reflect that unlike in the Düsseldorf fountain, where Father Rhine constitutes the central figure over his four daughters, in the Begas sculpture the rivers are secondary figures to the central figure of Neptune. The fountain was a gift of the Berlin

Magistrate to Kaiser Wilhelm II and was clearly meant as a symbol of the authority of the central Prussian government over the provinces. The subordinate relationship is clear from the four river‘s position beneath the powerful Neptune figure—a dominance emphasized by their portrayal as semi-nude female personifications.

Having both masculine and feminine personifications of the Rhine was not any more contradictory than the use of both the Germania and Loreley figures. These

19 The fountain was relocated after World War II to its current location in front of the Rotes Rathaus (Red Town Hall). 20 Gisela Moeller, ―Der Neptunbrunnen von Reinhold Begas in Berlin,‖ Jahrbuch der Berliner Museen, ed. Museen zu Berlin – Preußischer Kulturbesitz (Berlin: Mann, 2002), 149-150. 21 Ibid., 139.

14 pairings were necessary for expressing the dualities within German identity: the national and the regional, the military and the romantic, and the political and the cultural. What was perhaps unique about the new German identity was that these dualities were not in tension but rather interdependent. For example, while typically the intellectual and the romantic are in opposition to power and military might, in post-unification the two were closely tied. As historian Alon Confino explains, ―[F]or the liberals Kultur and Macht

[culture and power] were not mutually exclusive; rather, the two images constituted a discourse of national uniqueness…. This complementary yet explosively ambiguous commingling of Kultur and Macht was a feature of national identity throughout imperial

Germany.‖22 This duality of force and culture had long been an important element in

German literature, such as Theodor Körner‘s 1812 evocation of the images of sword and lyre in a poem.23 Glücklich referred to Körner in 1874, stating that,

The lyre and sword were already inseparable in the times when the knights lived in the castles now fallen into ruin on the green River Rhine, and lyre and sword are still today just as inseparable companions of the German people as back then: therefore, just as ―Germania, the proud‖ is the ideal of German power, German unity, so is her sister ―Loreley‖ the ideal of German artistry, German song and German poetry.‖24

Thus, all of these images were vital parts of the creation of a new German national identity. Given the historical and cultural diversity of the newly unifying

Germany, it was necessary to have a set shared of symbols that were not grounded in any particular religious or dynastic tradition. For this reason, many of the new German symbols were formed out of nature, classical mythology, or Germanic and medieval tales.

22 Alon Confino, The Nation as Local Metaphor: Württemberg, Imperial Germany, and National Memory, 1871-1918 (Chapel Hill: The University of North Carolina Press, 1997), 69. 23 Marie-Louise von Plessen, ―‗dort oben wunderbar:‘ Loreley und Germania zwischen ‗Leyer und Schwert,‘‖ in Die Loreley. Ein Fels im Rhein, 122. 24 Scholz, 149.

15

The Rhineland was central to this project for three main reasons. A disputed border region, it was advantageous to reinforce its role in shared German identity. Secondly, the traditions and images of the Rhineland could be used without provoking public resentment that would have been caused by the use of Prussian symbols. Finally, from an artistic perspective, the Rhineland was useful because its castles, ruins, and scenic landscape made it ideally suited for both the romantic imagery as well as a capturing the essence of the German Geist. Many of these images were highly dependent upon women. Women‘s dual societal role as mother and maiden made them well suited for representations of national and regional identity. The roles of nation and region as both protector and that which needed protecting could be personified (sometimes simultaneously) in the strength and vulnerability of these female images. Women as arbiters of home and hearth as well as symbolically the objects of romanticist ideals meant that women could serve as multivalent personifications of German art and culture.

These roles help explain women‘s central position in the efforts to construct both cultural and regional identities, as will be seen in the following chapters.

Notions of „Heimat‟ in the Rhineland

Nowhere were these images of women as arbitrators of home and hearth clearer than in the artistic and political attempts to employ the notion of Heimat (homeland).

While the term ‗Heimat‘ originally had mostly legal connotations, by the mid 19th century, it became more fluid and emotionally charged, connotative of spiritual and intellectual values.25 This national movement centered on a celebration of idyllic peasant

25 Gisela Ecker, ‗―Heimat‖: Das Elend der unterschlagenen Differenz,‘ in Kein Land in Sicht: Heimat – weiblich?, ed. Gisela Ecker (Munich: Fink, 1997), 11.

16 life and a close connection to the landscape. These tropes became popularized by

Heimatkunst in art and literature, including depictions celebrating folk life by artists like

Wilhelm Leibl and Hans Thoma. Thoma (1839-1924) was one of the most successful

German artists at the end of the nineteenth century. As an academically trained artist at the Düsseldorf Academy (1867-1868), he achieved critical recognition, such as his success at the 1890 exhibition at the Munich Kunstverein. At the same time, he achieved widespread popular appeal with his genre scenes depicting rural life in the Black Forest as well as luminous landscape compositions. His landscapes also included idyllic portrayals of the Rhine, with the figures lost in enjoyment and contemplation within pristine expanses of nature such as his Das Rheintal bei Säckingen (The Rhine Valley

Near Säckingen, 1899, fig. 13). Such symbols had become increasingly important in a

German society that was becoming disillusioned by growing industrialization, capitalistic values, and the perceived alienation associated with urban life. This movement was also often closely associated with patriotic values within this recently unified nation in its continuing search for a new collective identity.

These ideals were further propagated in popular Heimat novels around the turn of the century, as well bolstered by new periodicals, such as Heimat: Blätter für Literatur und Volkstum, founded in 1900. It is not surprising that much of this distaste for the effects of modernization and nostalgia for a simpler way of life was directed toward

Germany‘s capital. To its critics, Berlin‘s rapid economic and industrial growth signified an overly rationalist society, as well as a lack of homogeneity, culture and spirituality

(Geist). Heimat‟s first editor, Fritz Leinhard, titled one of his early articles with the query, ―Los von Berlin?‖ (―Away from Berlin?‖), which was soon seized upon as motto

17 of the Heimat movement. Intellectuals like Leinhard who were living in Berlin found themselves becoming increasingly disillusioned and feared the loss of deeper, shared values. Leinhard criticized the superficiality of the metropolis in favor of a more localized, traditional artistic identity, in which the ―gilded power of a new spirit‖26 could reign. He argued: ―We, who deliberately separate ourselves, do not want to overlook the imminent dangers of today‘s large city, the societal and commercial agitation, [and] the danger of superficiality and sensualization of urban particularism.‖27 This fear of loss and dislocation with regard to one‘s ‗Heimat‘ was one of the movement‘s defining characteristics. The Rhineland, with both its distance from Berlin and the strong position it held in Germanic literature and folklore, presented the perfect embodiment of these values. As a region rife with literary tropes and mythical connotations, as well as a clear geographic border of the Rhine, it offered an alternative, relatively coherent identity from which to draw upon.

The strong ties to the feminine in the imagery of the Heimat movement were often made in juxtaposition to more masculine notions of the nationalism and patriotism embodied by the ―Fatherland.‖ Heimat was more centered on feminine notions of ―home and hearth.‖ This was particularly common in German novels, which often centered on a female protagonist who served as an allegory for the homeland. Throughout Europe in the 19th century, women served as active participants in celebrations of nationalism and displays of national character. Historian Nancy Reagin has noted that, ―Women often played a symbolic role in public ceremonies…appearing as Germania or Marianne or

26 Fritz Lienhard, ―Los von Berlin?‖, reproduced in Die Berliner Moderne 1885-1914, ed. Jürgen Schütte and Peter Sprengel (Stuttgart: Reclam, 1987), 224. Originally published in Deutsche Heimat 5/1 (1901/2), 504-8. 27 Ibid., 223.

18 marching in groups dressed in white to represent the morality or purity of the nation.‖28

The importance of the Heimat and its connections with the feminine were particularly strong during times of dislocation, such as during World War I. As Gisela Ecker writes,

―‗Heimat‘ is primarily populated by women who guarantee its consistency, work there and wait, whereas male figures move away and return home, fight in war, [and] long for their Heimat.‖29 This image of the Heimat was thus defined by a masculine longing for a feminized ideal from which they had been displaced.

Nevertheless, despite the fact that Heimat was frequently based on masculine ideals, women were given the primary role in maintaining and preserving this true essence of ‗Germanness.‘ According to Alon Confino, ―Sentiments and images of harmony were best expressed in the private spheres of home and family, assigned to and dominated by women and associated with feminine sensibilities. Just as the home and the family were women‘s domain, so was Heimat.‖30 Therefore, women‘s roles as wives and mothers made them not only custodians of Heimat but also more broadly the preservers of local identity, shared memories, and traditions. This is particularly true in the Rhineland, where regional identity was so closely tied with a nostalgic sense of tradition. Women‘s role in cultural regional identity would become, as will be discussed in the next chapter, a central justification for granting women access to art education and cultural production.

28 Nancy Reagin, ―The Imagined Hausfrau: National Identity, Domesticity, and Colonialism in Imperial Germany,‖ The Journal of Modern History 73 (March 2001): 56. 29 Ecker, 12-13. 30 Confino, 49.

19

The project of using Heimatkunst and mythological Rhenish imagery to establish a strong sense of Rhenish cultural identity was perhaps most evident in the efforts of the regional journal Die Rheinlande. Die Rheinlande was interspersed with literary handling of Rhenish symbols, e.g., poems or novellas about the Loreley and high-quality illustrations of regional genre scenes and landscapes. These images were also pervasive in the exhibition organized by the journal‘s affiliate artist group, Der Verband der

Kunstfreunde in den Ländern am Rhein (Organization of Art Lovers in the Lands of the

Rhine), whose 1910 exhibition catalogue featured the frontispiece of a Rhine maiden (fig.

14). As with most Loreley imagery, the associations with Greek mythology, in particular the iconic shell and sea foam of a birth of Venus, were readily apparent. Also, the journal contained Father Rhine imagery, such as the inclusion of Moritz von Schwind‘s Father

Rhine Playing Volker‟s Fiddle (fig. 15) alongside contemporary landscapes of the region by Rhenish artists. Generally, landscape and Heimat had a strong presence in Die

Rheinlande and the exhibitions by the Verband. The aforementioned exhibition also included a reproduction of a nineteenth century print by Peter Becker (fig. 16), which combined both a pastoral scene of a man hiking in nature, against a backdrop of both the

Rhine curving below and a castle on the hill.

The inclusion of Heimatkunst was not only an attempt to promote a sense of

Rhenish identity, but also a display of the Rhineland as representative of true German identity. Therefore, the journal title also included the critical subheading: ―Monatsschrift für deutsche Kunst.‖ Journal editor Wilhelm Schäfer referred to the Rhineland as the

―once rich Motherland of German culture.‖31 In this way, the construction of a regional

31 Wilhelm Schäfer, ―Zur Geschichte des Verbandes der Kunstfreunde in den Ländern am Rhein,‖ Die Rheinlande 17 (1917): 60.

20 identity was not seen as being in conflict with the strengthening of a broader, national

German identity. That the collective identity of the Rhineland itself represented a unity of differing regions, ranging from Switzerland in the south to Holland in the north, was indicated by the journal‘s title, whose plural ―Die Rheinlande‖ explicitly indicated the inclusion of the differing regions along the Rhine. As the historian Celia Applegate has stated, ―Heimat‘s depiction of the small town as a ‗cradle‘ of the greater political unity both eased the transition and defined an entirely new, more malleable kind of localness.‖32 This decentralized concept of a national identity was not just an ideological ideal but also a pragmatic recognition of the deep divisions—religious, political, and cultural—that would impede the construction of a more homogeneous German identity.

As Alon Confino argues, ―Maintaining such a level of regional variegation and autonomy within the nation was more than simply acknowledging regional differences….It was rather a reflection of the essence of the nation as a whole, composed of regional identities.‖33

Due to the lagging nature of the art scene in Düsseldorf, aligning the established art elite with this traditional Heimat movement was advantageous in many ways. To the supporters of conservative academic art, Die Rheinlande could promote its distance from

Berlin as a blessing, as it had left Düsseldorf uncorrupted by the modern and international movements in Berlin in favor of a true ‗German art.‘ In terms of its audience, Die

Rheinlande hoped to reach an educated middle class, fostering their interest in and

32 Celia Applegate, A Nation of Provincials. The German Idea of Heimat (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1990), 13. 33 Confino, 34.

21 indirectly encouraging them to collect local art.34 Among the art collectors of the

Düsseldorf bourgeoisie, the sustained popularity of the Düsseldorf School at its height proved to be the most enduring commodity. According to Jutta Hülsewig, ―Although its peak period already [came] to a close in the late 19th century, it is precisely the conventional academicism in local art production that continue[d] to have an undiminished effect…. this catchy traditional art [found] support among the Düsseldorf art buying and property-owning bourgeoisie.‖35

In addition to the employment of Heimat and Rhenish mythological imagery

Schäfer wanted to move beyond what he considered an overly simplistic and stereotypical portrayal of Rhenish culture in the broader national discourse, particularly in the ―east‖ (i.e., Berlin). The journal‘s purpose, Schäfer asserted, would be instead of allowing the ―singers of Rhine and wine along with Karneval to remain the only valid witnesses of Rhenish culture….‖ to also display the Rhenish spirit in its serious work.‖36

To this end, the journal was increasingly open to modern movements, such as the decorative arts, in which women‘s importance was critical. Without abandoning the promotion of Heimat movement and the publication of numerous genre scenes of life in

Düsseldorf and on the Rhine, the journal attempted to establish modern trends in the decorative arts as uniquely Rhenish. It concentrated mainly upon the work of Peter

Behrens, who was a member of the artist colony in Darmstadt and also served as a contributor, with pieces on Darmstadt exhibitions, images of wallpaper, and decorative

34 For an extensive examination of the mission and activities of Die Rheinlande and the Verband der Kunstfreunde in den Ländern am Rhein, see Sabine Brenner, “Das Rhineland aus dem Dornröschenschlaf wecken!”: Zum Profil der Kulturzeitschrift Die Rheinlande (Düsseldorf: Grupello Verlag, 2004). 35 Jutta Hülsewig, ―Moderne Kunst in Düsseldorfer Galerien,‖ in Der westdeutsche Impuls 1900-1914: Kunst und Umweltgestaltung im Industriegebiet – Düsseldorf: Eine Grossstadt auf dem Weg in die Moderne (Düsseldorf, Kunstmuseum Düsseldorf, 1984), 185. 36 Wilhelm Schäfer, foreword to Die Rheinlande, Jg. 1, Bd. 1, H. 1, (1900), n.p.

22 art objects. In introducing an article written by Behrens himself about the Darmstadt artist colony, the legacy of the Rhenish past was connected to modern impulses in the decorative arts. ―It only remains to be said that we know of no better place for such cultural work than in the beautiful Rhenish lands, in the midst of the most shining

German cultural past.‖37

The content of Die Rheinlande also expanded over the years to include articles on

French art and artists. There had long been a tension in the Rhineland between interaction with neighboring France and promotion of the Heimat—a natural juxtaposition since, as Elizabeth Boa and Rachel Palfreyman have noted, ―many proponents of Heimat art originated from border areas [which] explains their acute need to assert the Germanness of a regional identity.‖38 Over the years, the antipathy to non-

Rhenish art shifted towards more inclusion. This was apparent in 1906 when the foremost collector of French and German modernist art and owner of the Folkwang

Museum in Hagen, Karl Ernst Osthaus, took on the role of addressing the art scene in

Westphalia. A shift was also apparent as the Rhineland moved from positing a Heimat- oriented identity with its roots in academicism, towards a more inclusive and advanced role as a showcase for international modernist art. This coverage gradually expanded to include reviews of exhibitions of Sonderbund artists, culminating in the group‘s seminal international exhibition in 1912.39 Both the promotion of the decorative arts and the inclusion of French art represented transformations, or at least expansions, of Rhenish

37 Wilhelm Schäfer, Die Rheinlände 9, Hft. 10 (October 1909): 33. 38 Elizabeth Boa and Rachel Palfreyman, ―Heimat at the Turn of the Century: The Heimat Movement and Clara Viebig‘s Eifel Fictions,‖ in Heimat, A German Dream: Regional Loyalties and National Identity in German Culture 1890-1990 (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000), 33. 39 It should be noted, however, that by the end of the journal‘s run in 1922, the attitudes towards modern and international art had shifted again, as Schäfer, and by extension the publication, became increasingly charged with nationalistic, particularly anti-French, rhetoric.

23 cultural identity, and both presented significant new opportunities for female artists. One of the ironies of the cultural promotion in Die Rheinlande, idealized and mythological women images were essential to the promotion of cultural identity in the Rhineland, but actual female artists were rarely exhibited or promoted within the organizations.40

It was precisely these transformations within Rhenish cultural identity which made the turn-of-the-century such a critical period for the promotion and advancement of female artists within the region. As will be seen in the following chapters, many of the early artistic opportunities for women were still grounded in entrenched gendered notions of culture. The role of women as cultural protectors of Heimat and the hearth would pervade the debates over their artistic education (Chapter 2). Similarly, many of the dichotomies inherent in the image of the Loreley, of guardian and seductress, were still present in the debates over the influence of women on culture—and over their male colleagues—once they had entered the educational institutions of the Düsseldorf

Decorative Arts School and later the Academy (Chapter 3). Women would continue to play a central role in the definition of regional and cultural identity, particularly in the

Rhineland as a geographic and cultural space between the poles of Berlin and Paris. The promotion of female artists was both a product and a mirror of many tropes of the

Rhineland‘s identity. Both the Rhineland and its female artists had to negotiate others‘ notions of their supposed artistic limitations and acceptable roles in cultural production.

At the same time, both found opportunities in their growing economic importance, as well as their role as ambassadors of international and modern art, while remaining

40 One notable exception was the Swiss artist Ottilie Roederstein (1859-1937). See Wilhelm Schäfer, ―Ottilie W. Roederstein,‖ Die Rheinlande 12 (1912): 1-4.

24 representatives of a ―true‖ sense of German tradition and spirituality (Chapters 4 and 5).

This was not just the result of broad cultural and regional shifts, but often the active and intentional product of promoters such as Alfred Flechtheim and Karl Ernst Osthaus, exhibitions such as the Sonderbund and the Frauen gallery exhibitions, and, most importantly, the female artists themselves. The liminal status of Rhenish female artists allowed them to find the points of convergence between the supposed dichotomies of regional versus international, decorative arts versus ―high‖ art, and the traditional versus the modern, and in so doing create opportunities for themselves as well as shape Rhenish cultural identity.

25

Chapter 1

Artistic Opportunities for Women in Düsseldorf

In Düsseldorf at the turn of the century, the increasing numbers within the new middle class of aspiring professional women artists created challenges for the rapidly growing city. City leaders used the education of women artists as part of their broader project to shape cultural and artistic identity, while at the same time displaying a strong ambivalence to their professional aspirations. As the city was losing its renowned artistic reputation of the 19th century, with its famed Düsseldorf School and its art academy in steep decline, efforts to provide women with increased opportunities for artistic training were part of a broader project to boost the city‘s cultural cachet throughout Germany and abroad. With the Königliche Kunstakademie in Düsseldorf still closed to women, many aspiring female artists sought out formal artistic training at the Kunstgewerbeschule zu

Düsseldorf (Düsseldorf Decorative Arts School), which offered a broad curriculum in various aspects of the decorative arts.1 At the Decorative Arts School, women navigated their educational and exhibition opportunities during the tenure of Peter Behrens, who initiated groundbreaking reforms to the decorative arts in Germany. Nevertheless, their standing at the school remained tenuous, indicative of the slippery status of women artists in the first decades of the twentieth century. Behrens‘ tenure coincided with ongoing debates among art critics like Karl Scheffler regarding a repositioning of ―the decorative‖ in art—in particular its elision with notions of ―the feminine.‖ This elision created opportunities as well as obstacles for women in the decorative arts. The experience of women at the Decorative Arts School therefore provides a dynamic context for

1 The academies in Düsseldorf and Berlin were the only major German art institutions to remain closed to women until as late as 1919 and 1921, respectively.

26 examining the shifting notions of gender and the decorative arts in Germany at the beginning of the twentieth century.

Women artists in the history of Düsseldorf

Throughout Düsseldorf‘s history there had been notable, though rare, examples of successful female painters. The nature of their careers and successes, however, reveals as much about the barriers and limitations that female artists faced as it does about their opportunities. In the 17th and 18th centuries, women artists such as Adriana Spilberg

(1652-1736) and Rachel Ruysch (1664-1750), served as painters in the royal courts.2 In

1776, Catharina Treu (1742/3-1811), who had served as court painter in Mannheim, became a professor at the Düsseldorf Art Academy, which had been founded just nine years earlier.3 Throughout the 19th century, though women could not be officially admitted to the Academy, many local and international women artists received private training in the ateliers of Düsseldorf academicians.4 As in other cities, however, such training was largely limited to those from well-connected or wealthy families. Two of the most well-known women artists from this period are Emilie Preyer (1849-1930) and

Magda Kröner (1854-1935), who exhibited their work and enjoyed critical praise both in

Düsseldorf and abroad.

Emilie Preyer was the daughter and student of the famous still life painter and

Düsseldorf Academy professor, Johann Wilhelm Preyer, who had studied under Peter

2 Ariane Neuhaus, et al, Dem Vergessen entgegen. Frauen in der Geistesgeschichte Düsseldorfs (Neuss: Ahasvera Verlag, 1989), 9. 3 Ibid. There was not another female instructor at the Academy until 1927, when Anna Simons was made a lecturer. Siegfried Weiß, ―Malerinnen im 19. Jahrhundert. Folge 1: Das Atelier von Carl Ferdinand Sohn in Düsseldorf,‖ Weltkunst 3 (March 2003): 350, 353n. 4 In Düsseldorf there were as many as 200 women painters who were active as either students or professionals throughout the 19th century. Weiß, ―Malerinnen im 19. Jahrhundert. Folge 1,‖ 350.

27

Cornelius and later Wilhelm von Schadow.5 The over 250 paintings in her oeuvre were primarily small fruit and flower still life compositions. Although not considered an exclusively ―feminine‖ genre, still life painting was viewed as more acceptable for female artists than other genres, such as history or figural painting. Preyer‘s paintings also reveal a close artistic kinship with the works of her father, echoing many of the motifs and formal elements that were well-known hallmarks of Johann Wilhelm Preyer‘s paintings. Her Fruit Still Life with Flowers in a Glass and Champagne Goblet (1870, fig.

17), for example, combines compositional elements such as the informal arrangement of fruits and nuts displayed directly atop a polished marble tabletop. Also characteristic is a skilled depiction of reflective surfaces, such as water droplets on the skin of the fruit and the water glass, as well as the inclusion of other elements taken directly from nature, such as the insect on the table. As with her father‘s work, Preyer often depicted objects protruding over a sharp table edge, indicating her familiarity with Dutch still life.

Although she operated within the visual language of her father and cultivated the same circle of patrons,6 throughout her career she was regarded as an artist on her own terms.

Already early in her career, Preyer was praised by critics as a young artist whose work

―already shows a certainty and independence that amazes us.‖7 She signed her paintings

―Emilie Preyer‖—using her first and last name—even though the common practice among female artists of her generation was to sign their work with only their family name, in order to downplay their gender in the face of critics or potential buyers.

5 Other female students in the atelier of Wilhelm Preyer included Helen Searle (1834-1885) and Charlotte Flamm (1820-1895). See Siegfried Weiß, ―Malerinnen im 19. Jahrhundert. Folge 2: J.W. Preyers-Atelier und die Düsseldorfer Stillebenmalerinnen,‖ Weltkunst 11 (October 2003): 1584-1586. 6 Ralf Eschenbrücher, Der Stillebenmaler Johann Wilhelm Preyer (1803-1889) (Mönchengladbach: Stadtarchiv, 1992), 150. 7 Düsseldorfer Anzeiger, January 16, 1868. As quoted in Neuhaus et al, 38.

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From the 1860s, Preyer exhibited her work regularly in Düsseldorf at the galleries of Bismeyer & Kraus and Eduard Schulte and was able to support herself from her paintings. Though training in her father‘s atelier constituted a typical path for a female artist in the 19th century to an artistic education, Preyer‘s ability to support herself as a professional artist was remarkable. Throughout the 1880s and 1890s, her work was critically well received. It was collected locally in the Düsseldorf Art Club (Kunstverein) and enjoyed success abroad in America and England—an indication not only of her success as an artist but also of the continued prominence of the Düsseldorf School.

Preyer became such a well-known figure in the Rhenish art scene that upon her death the

Düsseldorfer Stadtanzeiger stated that ―With the passing of Emilie Preyer, a piece of old

Düsseldorfer artist culture is gone.‖8

Another female artist who achieved independent success as part of an artistic household was Magda Kröner (née Helmcke, fig. 18), a noted genre, still life and landscape painter both in Düsseldorf and abroad. Born in the northern town of Rensburg

(now Schleswig-Holstein), Kröner began her studies in Düsseldorf in 1879 under

Professor Christian Kröner, the leading painter of animal and hunting scenes,9 whom she married in 1884. She concentrated her work largely upon still life (fig. 19) and landscape painting integrating architectural elements. Her work was well received in London; in

1895, she was awarded a bronze medal at the Crystal Palace Exhibition for her painting

Fruit and Flowers, as well as a silver medal also in London in 1899 for her Under

Flowers. Kröner work also attracted the interest of royal patrons. In 1901, Kaiser

Wilhelm II purchased two of her paintings, and in 1903 the crown prince of Meiningen

8 ―Kunstmalerin Emilie Preyer,‖ Düsseldorf Stadtanzeiger, September 24, 1930. 9 Friedrich Schaarschmidt, Zur Geschichte der Düsseldorfer Kunst, insbesondere im XIX Jahrhundert (Düsseldorf: Verlag des Kunstvereins für die Rheinlande und Westfalen Düsseldorf, 1902), 254.

29 acquired one of her paintings at the International Exhibition in Munich.10 Kröner was active in several artist organizations, such as the Düsseldorfer Kunstverein, Verein

Düsseldorfer Kunstlerinnen and the Deutsche Kunstgenossenschaft. In 1929, she was honored with an exhibition in the Düsseldorfer Kunsthalle on the occasion of her 75th birthday.11

While the success and recognition that Preyer and Kröner achieved was exceptional, their initial educational opportunities were in many ways typical for their generation. Both artists found ways to gain ―unofficial‖ access to academic training, even though the Düsseldorf Academy was closed to women. Kröner was one of many female art students to travel to Düsseldorf and study painting in the private ateliers of acclaimed academicians and seek out the intellectual and artistic atmosphere that

Düsseldorf had to offer. Not uncommon among female art students, Kröner developed a close relationship with her teacher, whom she eventually married. But unlike most women of her generation, she then continued her professional career, finding success at annual exhibitions, both locally and abroad. It was Preyer‘s familial ties as part to a century-long ―artist dynasty‖12 in Düsseldorf that afforded her access to academic training under her father. This level of academic training was restricted to a privileged few—only a limited number of wealthy and well-connected women were able to study due to its preventatively high cost.

10 Allgemeines Lexikon der bildenden Künstler von der Antike bis zur Gegenwart, Bd. 21, ed. Ulrich Thieme (Leipzig: Engelmann, 1927), s.v. ―Kröner, Magda.‖ 11 Neuhaus et al, 42. 12 ―Kunstmalerin Emilie Preyer,‖ Düsseldorf Stadtanzeiger, September 24, 1930.

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Artistic Education for Middle Class Women

Increasingly, however, the rise of the middle class meant that women without familial ties or financial advantages were demanding more official and affordable avenues for art education. One of the most prominent private art schools for women in

Düsseldorf was run by two women: Hanny Stüber and Else Neumüller. Born in Elberfeld

(now Wuppertal) in 1870, Hanny Stüber (fig. 20) began her artistic training in Berlin at the Königlichen Kunstschule, followed by studies in Munich and Paris. She then trained privately as a Meisterschülerin privately under Christian Kröner at the Düsseldorf

Academy. Stüber also exhibited regularly in Düsseldorf; in November 1909, an exhibition at the Kunsthalle featured more than a dozen of her paintings, primarily landscapes.13 This public recognition of her work helped to raise the interest of prospective students for training in her atelier. Around the turn-of-the-century, Stüber opened up a private school for female painters along with her friend and artist colleague,

Else Neumüller,14 a portrait painter and graphic artist, who had studied under the prominent painter Georg Papperitz.

Their Malschule became for three decades a well-known site in Düsseldorf for the training of female artists, attesting to the level of its popularity and success.15 Hanny

Stüber was an accomplished landscape painter, while Neumüller specialized in portraiture and graphic arts. Their different specialties were well complemented, offering a wide yet specialized curriculum to their students. The school, where Stüber and

Neumüller also lived and had their ateliers, offered training in portraiture, landscape,

13 ―Stüber-Ausstellung,‖ Neue Deutsche Frauen-Zeitung, Jg. 4, Nr. 42, 1909, 5. 14 Else Neumüller was born in Leipzig on 12.3.1875. 15 The school was initially on Carl-Anton-Str., but in 1903, the two artists relocated their school to Stockkampstr. 40. By 1907, the school relocated again to the Augustastr. 18.

31 flower painting, and the decorative arts.16 Students began their training with instruction in charcoal drawing, followed by drawing after plaster objects and live models, using red chalk, oil and pen-and-ink, interior studies, and landscape. The artists regularly advertised their school locally in the Düsseldorf newspaper as well as more directly to women in the regional women‘s newspaper, the Neue Deutsche Frauen-Zeitung, which also served as the official newspaper of various local women‘s organizations (fig. 21).

As the school expanded, its focus grew to women who not only wanted to study painting but those whose aim was to prepare for entry into a drawing seminar at one of the trade schools. The curriculum included drawing and painting of portraiture, still life and landscape (also plein air), as well as reflected women‘s growing participation into the decorative arts, such as book decoration and printmaking.

Students at the Painting School also had opportunities to exhibit their work to the public. On May 7th-11th 1909, Stüber and Neumüller held an exhibition in their three ateliers of student work over the past two years. This exhibit displayed about 500 works of about thirty students. This relatively large number of students rivals the number of female students who were to train at the Decorative Arts School, demonstrating that the

Malschule provided a viable alternative to women for formal art training in Düsseldorf.

The school‘s offering of high and applied arts may have been a large draw, given the lack of painting instruction available from the Decorative Arts School. The exhibit was reviewed in the aforementioned Frauenzeitung, where, given the audience, the reviewer was quick to attest to the seriousness of the women‘s work: ―It must be emphatically stated that these are competent, earnest achievements, not simply pleasant [or] the

16 Adreßbuch für die Stadtgemeinde Düsseldorf und die Landbürgermeistereien Benrath, Eller, Gerresheim, Heerdt, Kaiserswerth, Ludenberg und Rath, 1903, 104.

32 frequently all-too-pointless dilettantism…. [They] reveal a pursuit of a goal, a methodical advancement toward a chosen path.‖17

The influx of professional women, including artists was evidenced by growing efforts to accommodate them. Plans were announced in 1909 to found a ladies‘ dormitory in Düsseldorf, citing the need to offer safe and comfortable lodgings for educated women: ―The women‘s movement continues to make great strides, and the number of women who are active in the arts and sciences or in social areas is continually increasing. Women who have such a career do not have a lot of free time to create their own comfortable home, and it is exactly these women who are in special need of calm in their own home after a strenuous day in their work life.‖18 The home also offered ateliers for painters in addition to room and board.

As this generation of aspiring female artists grew, they and their families increased pressure on the city to provide institutional opportunities for women to study painting. This also represented a continuation of the conceptual shift from dilettantes to professionals among women artists, which had begun in the last third of the nineteenth century throughout Germany. Women began to organize themselves into women‘s artist organizations, offering financial support, artistic training and opportunities for exhibition of its members. In Berlin, the Künstlerinnen und Künstlerfreundinnen zu Berlin was the first of its kind, which ran its own Mal- und Zeichenschule. In the 1880s, cities such as

Munich, Karlsruhe and Leipzig followed suit. In the 1890s, this new population of trained artists began to exhibit work on a larger scale. Fifty works of women artists were presented in the German women‘s section of the 1893 International Exposition in

17 ―Ausstellung von Schülerinnen-Arbeiten der Malschule Hanny Stüber und Else Neumüller – Düsseldorf,‖ Neue Deutsche Frauenzeitung, Jg. 4, Nr. 19, 1909, 3. 18 ―Ein Damenhaus in Düsseldorf,‖ Neue Deutsche Frauenzeitung, Jg. 4, Nr. 29, 1909, 3.

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Chicago, and in 1898 the works of nearly 200 international women at the Akademie der

Künste in Berlin were exhibited.19 In addition, gallery owners such as Gurlitt and Amsler,

Schulte and Rheinhardt in Berlin had begun to organize exhibitions of women‘s art.20

This was accompanied more generally by a broader effort at the turn of the century to include women in the workforce, at least until they were married. Women‘s handbooks such as ―From the Girls‘ School into Life‖ contrasted 19th century idleness with contemporary work opportunities and encouraged women to expand their knowledge in the areas of science, technology, and the arts. Fueled by the women‘s movement, the first female students were accepted into Heidelberg University, and other universities slowly followed suit. Women were often, however, only admitted as observers, but by the semester of 1913/14, 6.3 percent of all German students were women.21

Debate over the Admission of Women to the Düsseldorf Art Academy

This debate was occurring at a time of crisis the Düsseldorf‘s Royal Art Academy.

The Academy had once enjoyed a reputation as the most dominant German art school in the 19th century, attracting students—both male and female—from all over Germany, as well as Scandinavia and the United States. The Düsseldorf Art Academy was founded in

1767 by Elector Palatine Karl Theodor and later reorganized under Prussian rule by reorganized by Frederick William III. The school reached its height of renown under

Wilhelm Schadow (1826-1859), whose tenure as director spanned thirty-three years. The

19 This exhibition was organized by the Künstlerinnenverein in Berlin. 20 Carola Muysers, ―in der Hand der Künstlerinnen liegt allein es fortan…, Feministische Studien 14, no. 1, 54-55. 21 Robin Lenman, Artists and society in Germany, 1850-1914 (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1997), 11.

34

Düsseldorf School became known for its history painting, genre, landscape and still life painting. The school was well known for its extreme naturalism, saturated color and classical landscape motifs.

The history of the academy system in Germany differed greatly than that of

France. The artistic makeup of Germany at the beginning of the 19th century echoed its political one; made up of thirty-nine loosely connected principalities, the country lacked cohesion, let alone a center, and its artistic culture was equally as diffuse. While there were academies in each major city, there was no central academy, unlike in neighboring

France, to provide a national forum for comparison or criticism.22 German academies were varied in both curriculum and focus, using blends of history, portraiture, landscape painting, and work from 16th century Italian masters. An academy‘s focus could also change drastically over a period of a few years due to new professors or the presence of exhibiting artists in the city. One benefit of this diversity, however, was that German artists were afforded a substantial amount of artistic freedom and choice in selecting their course of training.

Once at the academies, however, this freedom did not necessarily extend to the manner of instruction. For example, at the Düsseldorf Academy, the most important school up to mid-century, students were given ―rigorous, systematic instruction‖ in history painting, which advocated a typically German heavy, dark color scheme and an elaborate finish. It emphasized a very methodical approach to drawing, in which, for example, ―sometimes two or three days were required to complete the outline of a single head.‖ The drawing of the head itself was ―carefully studied in every angle and in

22 Kermit Swiler Champa, German Painting of the 19th Century (New Haven, Yale University Art Gallery, 1970),11-12.

35 various conditions of light,‖ lasting an average of two weeks. This systematic study of figures over a lengthy period of time was, at times, a ―grueling‖ practice which ―grated on students‘ sensibilities‖ and was generally antithetical to French instruction.23

Though the demand for paintings of the Düsseldorf School remained strong, by the last third of the 19th century, the artistic reputation of the Academy and thus the city as an art center fell into decline. The Academy had lost much of the reputation and relevancy it had cultivated during the height of the Düsseldorf School by remaining a bastion of history painting, and, as Stefan von Wiese noted, in 1900 the academy was poorly represented at the Paris Exposition.24 Julius Meier-Graefe did, however, give

Düsseldorf some credit in that he considered the professor Eduard von Gebhardt‘s

Awakening of Lazarus in representing the city with ―dignity.‖25 Still, in his introductory essay for the official German catalogue, the contemporary art historian Alfred Lichtwark listed Berlin and Munich as ―the first rank of the academical [sic] cities of Germany,‖ with Düsseldorf as a second tier art city on par with ―Dresden, Carlsruhe, Stuttgart, [and]

Weimar.‖26

In April 1897, civic leaders founded the Verkehrsverein (Bureau of Tourism) to consolidate the city‘s self-promotional efforts and regain its reputation as a prominent

―Kunst- und Gartenstadt.‖27 This organization had several local artists on its board, including the painter Willy Spatz, Professor Adolf Schill of the Academy, and Hermann

Stiller, director of the Decorative Arts School. In one of its first measures, the Tourist

23 Albert Boime, The Academy and French Painting in the 19th Century (London: Phaidon, 1971), 496-7. 24 Stefan von Wiese, ―Die Düsseldorfer Akademie 1900-1914 zwischen Restauration and Reform,‖ in Der Westdeutsche Impuls, ed. Hans Albert Peters (Düsseldorf: Kunstmuseum Düsseldorf, 1984). 25 Julius Meier-Graefe, Die Weltausstellung in Paris 1900 (Paris and Leipzig: F. Grüger, 1900), 90-92. 26 See Alfred Lichtwark, ―German Art,‖ Official Catalogue of the German Empire 1900 (Berlin: Imperial Commission), 126. 27 Erster Jahresbericht, Verkehrs-Verein Düsseldorf. 1897, 6.

36

Bureau announced a competition for local artists to design placards touting the city, resulting in a circulation of 10,000 lithographs. The winning placard then distributed to cities throughout Germany and even abroad to in order to boost the city‘s cultural image and increase tourism. The competition was judged by several academy professors, including Stiller and Spatz, and entries were then placed on exhibition at the city‘s

Kunstgewerbemuseum (Decorative Arts Museum).

One of the earliest undertakings of the organization was to respond to the

―repeated inquiries by various parties, even from abroad…whether it could be made possible to establish a special educational institution for ladies at the Academy.‖28 As exclusionary to women was the Malkasten (Paintbox), the dominant artist association in

Düsseldorf since its founding in 1848, which in its 1899 annual report went so far as to call for efforts ―to be applied against the overabundance of lady painters (Maldamen)‖ in its club garden.‖29 Expanding opportunities for women‘s artistic training, however, were soon to play an increasingly prominent role in the efforts to bolster the city‘s profile.

Instituting formal artistic training for women artists in 1897 was a logical step, given the significant numbers of women artists studying privately in Düsseldorf throughout the 19th century and the rising numbers of women artists in Germany as a whole since mid- century. Given this growing trend, the Tourist Bureau anticipated an influx of revenue to the Academy, concluding that, ―It is clear that painting is today becoming more frequently practiced by ladies, whether as a hobby or as a profession… [Furthermore t]he establishment of the aforementioned school for ladies would significantly increase the

28 Erster Jahresbericht, Verkehrs-Verein Düsseldorf, 1897, 16. 29 Women would not be granted membership to the Malkasten organization until 1977. For a more detailed description of the Malkasten, see Sabine Schroyen. Quellen zur Geschichte des Künstlervereins Malkasten: ein Zentrum bürgerlicher Kunst und Kultur in Düsseldorf seit 1848 (Habelt: Bonn, 1992).

37 attendance of the Academy.‖30 This proposal therefore not only was to create instruction for ―dilettantes‖ but also was intended to be rigorous enough so that aspiring professional artists could receive adequate artistic training.

On July 10, 1898, the district president and member of the Academy‘s board,

Ernst Rheinbaben, wrote to the mayor on behalf of the Tourist Office, proposing that a new school for women painters be opened in association with the Königliche

Kunstakademie.31 It is clear that city officials wanted to imitate institutions that were already proving successful elsewhere in the world. Though several cities like Karlsruhe,

Munich and Berlin catered to female students by expanding their art schools, the most notable example in Europe for female art students would certainly have been Paris. In the mid 19th century, female art students from Germany, America and the rest of Europe flocked to the capital in order to take instruction in the private académie payants, as the

École had remained closed to women until 1897. These institutions, such as the

Académie Julian (starting in 1868), catered to a female clientele, offered a similar model of instruction as the École and hired well known academicians to provide criticism.

Given this popular and lucrative example, it is not surprising that the city saw the potential revenue to be made in drawing more women to Düsseldorf by creating more opportunities for art training. However, by the time the Düsseldorf plan was proposed, the École had already opened its doors to women the previous year, even offering free courses in parity with its male students.

In stating his case, Rheinbaben argued that while there were already numerous private schools for women painters in Düsseldorf, the same ―purpose could be achieved

30 Erster Jahresbericht, Verkehrs-Verein Düsseldorf, 1898, 6. 31 Rheinbaben to mayor, 10 June 1898, Düsseldorf Stadtarchiv III, 2699, no. 1.

38 with a far lesser monetary sacrifice, as well as could be accomplished significantly more effectively using the comprehensive teaching materials of the Academy under the direction of the academic teaching staff.‖32 This new institution was to be modeled after the Malerinnen-Schule in Karlsruhe under the protectorate of the duchess Luise von

Baden, which had functioned since 1895 as a separate school for women painters in affiliation with the city‘s Decorative Arts School. Rheinbaben petitioned the Düsseldorf city government assume half of the cost of the proposed school (2325 Mark), arguing such an institution would prompt an influx of women artists and their families and thus serve to benefit the city financially as well as heighten its reputation.

Rheinbaben argued:

a considerable increase in traffic and influx of well-situated families from the execution of this undertaking can be expected, for families will settle here from the neighboring towns and provinces, such as Holland, Belgium, England, etc. to allow their daughters—whether it be to gain employment or for stimulation and refinement—to receive training at the intended institution. It would therefore be very much in the interest of the city community to contribute [financially] to this enterprise.33

Although Rheinbaben clearly argued from a position of advocacy, it is interesting that the admission of women to the academy could be credibly argued as significant enough to have an impact on the economy of the city as a whole. Perhaps not surprisingly given the audience, Rheinbaben based his arguments for the inclusion of women upon relatively conservative rationales, emphasizing the benefits to the economy and reputation of the city rather than the potential benefits to the women themselves, or the value of equality and inclusion. In his proposal, Rheinbaben was careful to emphasize the separation of instruction from the male students, noting that this

32 Ibid. 33 Ibid.

39 instruction would take place in a neighboring building outside of the academy and with a separately designed syllabus under Academy direction. Still, the proposed curriculum was similar to that for the male students. The first class would include the study of anatomy, perspective, decoration, and ornamentation, which was carried out according to patterns, plaster casts, and live models; the second class would comprise drawing exclusively from live models; and in the third and most advanced class the students would be instructed in painting from live models.34 This experimental curriculum was a somewhat abbreviated version of that of the male students, which the school would expand according to the success of the instruction and enrollment.35

Although Rheinbaben had argued that an advantage of the new Damenmalschule would be the lower cost of education to the women, the proposed tuition was still to be significantly higher than that for the current male students. This practice was common among both private and public institutions in Germany. While the latter at the Academy paid 80 Marks per year for their first class and 120 Marks for the following two classes,

Academy director Peter Janssen proposed that female students pay 300 and 500 Marks for the first and final years, respectively. His rationale was that women were paying an even higher rate—30 to 50 Marks per month—at local private schools and that a greater percentage of the school‘s overall costs would need to be covered by the tuition than at the Academy.36 This is a critical issue, as one of the primary arguments women across

Germany were making for their admission to the academies was not just the issue of equality of educational opportunities but also the unfair financial barriers private

34 Director Peter Janssen to the Academy board, 14 July 1898, Düsseldorf Stadtarchiv, Stadtarchiv, III 2699, no. 5. 35 Ibid. 36 Ibid. This amount for the cost of private schools is comparable to that in Karlsruhe. See Jahresbericht der Malerinnen-Schule zu Karlsruhe, 1897/1898.

40 education had created. A 1905 petition to the Prussian Ministry of Culture that was signed by over 200 women—including noted artists Käthe Kollwitz, Sabine Lepsius and

Cornelia Paczka—protested against the

tremendous financial burden [private tuition] has for the budgets of most families whose daughters want to devote themselves to the fine arts. Doubtless some very talented girls will have to abandon such study because it is neither possible for them nor their parents to expend such large amounts, to which is also added their in addition to living expenses during their studies.37

The importance of the financial dimension demonstrates how at this point artistic education was no longer solely for upper-class women, who could afford to study in the private ateliers, but expanding to include the growing number of middle-class women who sought to earn livings as artists and therefore needed to be able to afford the proper education.

This private training was separate but hardly equal. For men, training at the

Royal Academy meant lower fees, higher prestige, and better career contacts— advantages which women were not afforded. Even with government subsidies, training at the Damenakademie in Munich (founded in 1884) cost five times as much as the Royal

Academy. Generally, women who attended came from wealthy families who could afford such an expense. Even so, many women could only afford to attend for a short period of time and, when money ran out and they were forced to leave, they rarely had achieved significant progress or recognition.38

37 ―Petition um die Zulassung von Frauen zur königlichen Akademie der Künste,‖ in Die bildende Künstlerin, ed. Carola Muysers, (Verlag der Kunst: Dresden, 1999), 321. In the ensuing debate in the Haus der Abgeordneten, the Düsseldorf Kunstakademie is named specifically in addition to the Berliner Hochschule für die bildenden Künste as the two large state institutions that had denied women admission. 38 Gisela Kleine, Gabriele Münter und Vassily Kandinsky: Biographie eines Paares (Frankfurt a. Main: Insel), 1994, 681 n. 8.

41

The issue of admitting women to the German art academies, however, was a controversial one, which reflected both the economic importance of the private ateliers and the broader theoretical debates as to the suitability of women in the arts. For example, when the proposal for the Düsseldorf Academy was sent to a specially appointed government commission for review, it met with considerable resistance. The negative report issued by the commission served as an opposition petition that received the signatures of over forty artists engaged in private instruction, many of whom were professors or students at the academy who saw their income from private training as threatened. Similar to the arguments in support of city-supported artistic education for women, many of the commission‘s arguments focused upon the economic impact to the city of Düsseldorf:

The assumption that well-situated families would move to Düsseldorf…would probably prove illusory… [these families would not] change their place of residence in order to create a home for a painting-crazed (schwärmend) daughters, particularly if there is already a private painting school where they live.39

In the broader national debate about the admission of women into the academies, critics often raised the concern that, as described by art historian Marina Sauer in the catalogue of the 1987 Berlin exhibition on German female artists, Das verborgene

Museum, admitting women would prove detrimental to the art academies as it would

―bring a loss of quality to the academy and lead to an uncontrolled broadening of dilettantism.‖40 This reflected the paradoxical logic that the presumption of dilettantism was the reason for keeping the women artists out of the academies; however, it was the nature and quality of education they received in the private schools that supposedly

39 Commission to mayor, 26 November 1898, Düsseldorf Stadtarchiv, III 2699, no. 17. 40 Marina Sauer, ―Dilettantinnen und Malweiber: Künstlerinnen im 19. und 20. Jahrhundert,‖ in Das verborgene Museum I. Dokumentation der Kunst in Berliner öffentlichen Sammlungen, ed. Gesellschaft für Bildende Kunst e.V. Berlin (Berlin: Edition Hentrich, 1987), 25.

42 evidenced their lack of seriousness. The Düsseldorf commission echoed this argument, stating that there was little need to provide women artists with more formal artistic training, since the private institutions were already providing them with a sufficient education, given that,

[t]hese institutions are as a rule attended by ladies who have no intention of practicing painting as a trade; and here dilettantes can acquire the technical proficiencies necessary for the development of their talent. Even those rare ladies who wish to practice painting as a trade can find in the private schools sufficient opportunity to shape their talent.41

This undermining of the professional aspirations of these artists is another example of the suspect reasoning of the critics who asserted that a lack of professional female artists was evidence of the low demand for broader and more rigorous educational opportunities.

These attitudes were grounded in the long tradition of the ―accomplished woman,‖ whose cultural production was limited to the performance, copying, and imitation of art for personal enjoyment and the attraction of male suitors. This created a self-reinforcing attitude in which women‘s skills were seen as extending only to the types of artistic production that were deemed acceptable. As Ann Bermingham has argued in her examination of eighteenth-century Britain:

Women‘s lack of reason and originality was manifested in the accomplishment and rehearsed and reconfirmed every time they sketched, or painted, or played. The accomplished woman not only performed her femininity but her ‗natural‘ inferiority as well. Not only did her accomplishments invite the gaze they also justified her exclusion from public life and from the connoisseur‘s republic of taste.42

While some proponents for admitting women to German art academies were willing to concede that private schools fostered dilettantism by indulging less serious students for

41 Commission to mayor, 18 November 1898, Düsseldorf Stadtarchiv, III 2699, no. 17. 42 Ann Bermingham, ―The Aesthetics of Ignorance: The Accomplished Woman in the Culture of Connoisseurship,‖ Oxford Art Journal 16, no. 2 (1993):14.

43 merely pecuniary benefits, in their opinion this made it all the more important to open public institutions for the more serious art.43 In the 1890s, even with the higher cost of private artistic training, as well as its lack of rigor, the numbers of professional women artists in Germany were already significantly on the rise. Between 1882 and 1907, the number of professional women artists in Germany rose from 5,542 to 9,493 (an increase of 71%; which was an increase of 29% to 34% of the total).44 In addition, in an era of increasing professionalization among women, according to a turn-of-the-century examination of the art market, becoming an artist was one of the few socially acceptable trades for ―daughters of good families.‖45

The main focus of opposition to the admission of women to the Art Academy in

Düsseldorf, however, was on the financial impact to local professional artists and art teachers. An already stagnant art market at the turn of the century added to the dependence of painters on the income from artistic training of women artists. Given that according to the city commission, there were roughly sixty active art teachers in

Düsseldorf at the time, the forty-one signatures on this petition represent a significant percentage of the instructors. The city commission argued on the behalf of its local professional artists:

The creation of a painting school for ladies under the direction of the state could cut off the livelihood of some industrious painters engaged in private instruction… for many artists their ability to continue their education without…interruptions is exclusively dependent upon giving painting instruction…We are convinced we are acting on behalf of and in the interests of

43 ―Petition um die Zulassung von Frauen zur königlichen Akademie der Künste.‖ 44 Ruppert, Wolfgang, Der moderne Künstler: zur Sozial- und Kulturgeschichte der kreativen Individualität in der kulturellen Moderne im 19. und frühen 20 Jahrhundert (Frankfurt/M.: Suhrkamp, 1998), 125. 45 Paul Drey, Die wirtschaftlichen Grundlagen der Malkunst: Versuch einer Kunstökonomie (Stuttgart and Berlin: J.G. Cotta‘sche Buchhandlung Nachfolger, 1910), 74.

44

the entire artist community when we argue against the organization of a state-run school for women painters in Düsseldorf.46

While the commission claimed that this rejection was for the benefit of both male and female professional teachers in Düsseldorf, it is interesting to note that all of the forty- one signatories were male.

This debate continued with a very public rebuttal to the commission‘s claims, posted in the midst of the debate in the Kölnische Zeitung, which conveyed the high level of interest in the debate which existed beyond the city itself. This rebuttal argued that a city with an academic tradition such as Düsseldorf was best suited to respond to the rising numbers of aspiring women painters, and urged city leaders to take advantage of this opportunity for improving the city‘s profile. The focus of the school, it recommended, should be those middle-class women seeking a source of income, as was made clear in the discussion of the specific terms of the financial requirements:

The tuition, however, should not be set too high, because the main attention should remain upon ladies who strive toward earning a livelihood, and thus have relatively modest means. Nevertheless, 300 Mark should not be too much. Civil servants, officers, etc. gladly spend such tuition for their daughters. For completely impecunious ladies, scholarship benefactors would be found in our western provinces once the institution prospers, of which we have no doubt.47

This article acknowledged the commission‘s misgivings with regard to encouraging dilettantism—citing the example of the music conservatories, which was viewed as being an irrelevant issue to the employment of women—but saw the concern as increasingly insignificant when compared to the city‘s greater duty to its educated women who required employment. The notice also challenged the supposed economic

46 Commission to mayor, 18 November 1898, Düsseldorf Stadtarchiv, III 2699, no. 17. 47 ―Malschule in Düsseldorf.‖ Reproduced in Zweiter Jahresbericht, Verkehrs-Verein Düsseldorf, 1898, 11.

45 threat to local painters and chastised the narrow-minded thinking of the local artistic community who failed to see the potential in the proposal:

The allusion to the aggrieved painters who are now providing instruction has a rather small-town aftertaste. If the academic school for women painters should prosper, these painting instructors will not only not lose [students], but they will find more female students than ever, who for some reason prefer private instruction but still want to call consider themselves as ―trained in Düsseldorf.‖48

At a time when its artistic significance was waning, the education of women artists was viewed as way of restoring Düsseldorf‘s relevance as an international center of art education. This plan stalled in 1899 after nearly a year of deliberations, until finally the city government officially rejected the proposal for the Academy.49 This resistance to change, conservative attitudes regarding women artists, and the perceived threat to the institution and the local artist community were symptomatic of the broader artistic crisis in the city.

In the midst of these debates, the commission was also considering other options for formal artistic training for women, including the institution of a Damenklasse under the aegis of the city‘s School of Decorative Arts. Training women in the decorative arts had many advantages. Not only would it achieve many of the objectives of the earlier proposal—institutionalized opportunities for women at a lower cost, greater exposure for

Düsseldorf as art center and modernization of Düsseldorf‘s artistic image—it would also avoid many of the objections—conservative resistance to women‘s participation in the

―high‖ arts and an economic threat to ateliers and private training. This alternative plan, outlined in correspondence by Director Hermann Stiller, would consist of the following two-year curriculum: Class 1 would be free-hand drawing, line drawing, and

48 Ibid. 49 City council minutes, 7 June 1899, Düsseldorf Stadtarchiv, III 2699, no. 39.

46 ornamentation; and Class 2 would be plant studies, flower painting, figured drawing, and designing surface decoration (Flächenkunst). These courses mirrored the first two years of Vorschule (introductory classes) for male students at the Kunstgewerbeschule.50 Stiller emphasized from the outset a physical separation of class spaces, though this instruction was to be followed with combined lectures with the male students on style, art history, and methods of drawing instruction.51 Stiller allowed additionally for the possibility of instituting later more specialized classes if necessary, such as design drawing as well as porcelain and faience painting.52

The curriculum was designed such that upon completion, students would be prepared to take the examination for drawing teachers. This proposal provided women with a vocation at the end of their training, in opposition to the critics‘ claims of their lack of professional aspirations. As a prerequisite, the female students must have attended a secondary school for girls or a corresponding education, or have instead earned a qualification as a vocational teacher, such as in gymnastics or needlework. In addition, Stiller recommended that, after the model of schools in Munich and Strasburg, a female teacher should be appointed to supervise the female students. Unlike the proposal from the Academy, women students would pay the same tuition as their male counterparts (70 M per year), and even 10% subsidies were budgeted to financially assist some female students.53

The decorative arts had long served as a basis for professional training. It was often seen as an important initial step in becoming a professional artist. The most notable

50 Bericht über die Kunstgewerbeschule 1883-1893 (Düsseldorf: Bagel, 1893), 14. 51 Director Stiller to Marx, 26 November 1898, Düsseldorf Stadtarchiv, III, 2699, no. 18. 52 Stiller to mayor Lindemann, 23 April 1899, Düsseldorf Stadtarchiv, III, 2699, no. 36. 53 Stiller to Marx, 26 November 1898, Düsseldorf Stadtarchiv, III, 2699, no. 18.

47 example was the South Kensington system, widely taught at the Schools of Art throughout in Great Britain and Ireland, which also admitted women as students. In fact, as noted by art historian Jeanne Sheehy, by the 1870s the schools ―had reconciled themselves to the fact that they were not only training designers, but also painters.‖54 In particular for women, these schools allowed them to develop skills and help transform the public‘s perception of women artists. Although education in the decorative arts, particularly in fields such as needlepoint and textiles, served to solidify the notion of the

‗feminine‘ arts, these venues provided a means by which women could be seen as both designers and professionals.

This alternate proposal for a school for women to be affiliated with the

Kunstgewerbeschule, however, also met with resistance. As with the proposal by the

Academy, much of the resistance came from within the institution itself. In addition to the official rejection by the school‘s finance commission, the board of the

Kunstgewerbeschule rejected the proposal on the following grounds:

Board of trustees considers the establishment of a drawing class for women affiliated with the Kunstgewerbeschule to be not advisable and sees a better resolution of the issue in the further organic development of the educational system for women in the city as a whole.55

Once again, the Kunstgewerbeschule prioritized the status quo—or at very least resisted any active reform. There is no explanation for how change could ―organically‖ occur without the active support of the schools, other than potentially through the gradual expansion of private instruction. In fact, when change finally did come at the

Kunstgewerbeschule, it was the result of the continued active petitioning of women

54 Jeanne Sheehy, ―The flight from South Kensington: British Artists at the Antwerp Academy 1877-1885,‖ Art History, v. 20, no.1, (1997): 124. 55 Decorative Arts School board minutes, 16 May 1899, Düsseldorf Stadtarchiv, III 2699, no. 37.

48 artists, the arrival of Peter Behrens as director, as well as fundamental crises facing the institution.

Reform under Peter Behrens at the Kunstgewerbeschule

The Kunstgewerbeschule zu Düsseldorf was opened on April 4th, 1883, with the aim of offering ―young craftsmen, who possess a good elementary education, the opportunity to acquire and the knowledge and skills [for] the successful exercising of their trade, particularly in an artistic respect.‖56 The architect Hermann Stiller, director of the Decorative Arts School in Kassel, was chosen to become the first director. The school was led by a nine member board, comprising the school director, the city mayor

(as chairman), three state officials and four officials from the city assembly. Decisions of the school board were also subject to approval by the Minister of Trade and Commerce in

Berlin.57 This division of authority was also reflected in the school‘s financing, which were primarily city funds with subsidies from the state.58

The school‘s curriculum consisted of a Vorschule, a year long course to prepare students for training in one or more of the specialized courses, or Fachklassen. The institution also offered evening courses for apprentices or assistants already engaged in a trade. In the Vorschule course, students received training in free hand figural drawing, as well as in surface and plaster ornamentation, geometric drawing and shading, and finally in the principles of ornamentation, encompassing color ornamentation in various

56 Statut der Kunstgewerbeschule zu Düsseldorf, § 1. Bericht über die Kunstgewerbeschule zu Düsseldorf 1883-1893, 7. 57 Ibid. Initially the school was overseen by the Minister for Spiritual, Educational and Medicinal Affairs. In 1884, oversight was transferred to the Minister for Trade and Commerce. 58 Bericht über die Kunstgewerbeschule zu Düsseldorf 1883-1893, 5-6.

49 historical styles (fig. 22).59 The Fachklassen included courses in decorative painting; furniture, machine and architecture design; figural drawing and painting (as well as sculpting and woodcutting); engraving; plaster drawing; anatomy; perspective; and drawing after the nude. Courses in flower drawing and painting were added in 1892.60

By the turn-of-the-century, the Kunstgewerbeschule was suffering from the same stagnation and need for serious reform as the Kunstakademie.61 In the case of the

Kunstgewerbeschule, its curriculum had not changed since 1892. In addition, enrollment had dropped to an alarming level and, as art historian Gisela Moeller has noted, by the turn-of-the-century it had become an ―outdated institute, which was stalled in teaching content and methods on the level of an early school for ornamentation.62

In general, in the middle of the 19th century, the state of the decorative arts in

Germany was considered significantly inferior to that in countries like France and

England. This was made clear most notably at the international exposition at the Crystal

Palace in London in 1851, where Germany fared poorly in an international comparison.

The architect and theorist Gottfried Semper lamented his country‘s poor performance and advocated fundamental reforms to the industrial arts. These reforms included the founding of many decorative arts museums and schools throughout the country to better train craftspeople and improve the quality of the German applied arts. Like the English model of the South Kensington Museum and its School of Art, the German decorative arts museums were founded to both promote an interest in the applied arts as well as

59 Bericht über die Kunstgewerbeschule zu Düsseldorf 1883-1893, 9. 60 Bericht über die Kunstgewerbeschule zu Düsseldorf 1883-1893, 13-14. 61 Stefan von Wiese, ―Die Düsseldorfer Akademie 1900-1914 zwischen Restauration and Reform,‖ in Der Westdeutsche Impuls, ed. Han Albert Peters (Düsseldorf: Kunstmuseum Düsseldorf, 1984), 97. 62 Gisela Moeller, Peter Behrens in Düsseldorf: die Jahre von 1903-1907 (Weinheim: VCH Verlagsgesellschaft GmbH, 1991), 15-16.

50 provide examples of older decorative art styles and techniques for craftspeople in their training. These reform efforts to improve the quality and appreciation of the applied arts were aimed to bridge the widening gap between the notions of ―art‖ and ―industry‖ that had existed throughout the 19th century.

By the last third of the century, the curriculum of the new decorative arts schools emphasized not only drawing instruction after objects from antiquity—the standard training practice in the first half of the century—but also in older German applied arts techniques, such as in glassmaking, gold and silver smithy. These efforts were, of course, indebted to the burgeoning arts and crafts movement in England, particularly the efforts of William Morris. Morris promoted a revival of medieval art styles and techniques, with good craftsmanship to serve as an antidote to machine-driven, industrialized production.

In particular, Morris advocated a more unified connection between artist and craft— seeing through a work of art from conceptualization to production. His efforts also had a broader social aim: to make hand-crafted, well designed art objects available to the common person.

Although the ideas of Morris resonated in the German reform movement, problems persisted at the German decorative institutions. By the 1890s, the widely held criticism was that the schools, instead of yielding modern, high quality craftsmanship in a style that responded to the needs of the time, had remained nothing more than stagnant schools for historical copying. The Berlin museum official and scholar Wilhelm von

Bode served as one of these critical voices. Upon witnessing firsthand American technical achievement at the 1893 World Exposition in Chicago, Bode was impressed by its decorative arts production. He also envied the Americans‘ liberation from past artistic

51 styles, which he argued was as a hindrance to Germans artists in developing a modern,

―national‖ style. Bode viewed the bureaucracy of German art institutions as part of the problem. Bode blamed this lack of an organic development within art education and the art market on the direct financial involvement of the state in art educational institutions as well as its involvement in industry art production—again in direct contrast to the private funding driven system in America.63 Similar to the situation at the art academies, Bode lamented the growing size and number of the German decorative arts schools, turning out poorly educated craftspeople lacking the proper focus and technical skill. To solve this problem, Bode, like many of his contemporaries, pressed for sweeping reforms to the school curriculum, advocating that ―less be taught, though all the more thoroughly, [and] that the greatest emphasis be placed on drawing instruction and on the technical aspect of the fine and decorative arts, so that first of all the craft is learned thoroughly, in order for a ‗Kunsthandwerk‘ to be able to develop on its own.‖ 64 Bode underlined the need to unite the concepts of ―art‖ and ―craft.‖ Writing in 1900, Bode was nevertheless optimistic about the possibilities of German decorative arts for moving away from historical copying or what he considered haphazard experimentation and the developing of a new modern style: ―The ‗German,‘ the ‗national,‘ lies within us; ‗when we stay true to ourselves,‘ i.e., when we strive to create out of pure artistic need and the given requirements of the materials and the art, so will we regain a national art.‖65

The last decade of the 19th century also ushered in new movements in the decorative arts, which were more broadly tied to social reform movements in Germany.

63 Wilhelm Bode, Kunst und Kunstgewerbe am Ende des Neunzehnten Jahrhunderts (Berlin: Bruno und Paul Cassirer, 1901), 46-47. 64 Ibid., 45. 65 Ibid., 163.

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Characteristic of these artistic movements is that they developed primarily outside the realm of the decorative arts schools. They often reflected the growing influence of

Jugendstil, as demonstrated at the exhibitions of the Munich Secession, beginning in

1892. Another important impetus was the gradual expansion of teaching workshops throughout Germany, with the founding of the Verein für Werkstätten für Kunst und

Handwerk in Munich in 1897.66 Finally, also significant were new models of instruction, most notably in 1899 with the establishment of the Darmstadt Artist Colony, which was to become an important center for the applied arts in Germany, drawing leading artists such as Peter Behrens, Josef Maria Olbrich, and Rudolf Bosselt.

Almost all of the factors had the effect of shifting from theory-based to more hands-on training, as well as lesser focus on ornament in favor of designs from nature and concentration upon form. The reform efforts in the arts were also embedded in broader social reforms. As the contemporary critic H. Board argued, ―When it comes to a cultural tool for educating the people, the authorities should contribute their help and support, and the decorative arts schools established everywhere should considerate it their chief duty to educate their students, who are mostly recruited from the middle class, as the bearers of their ideas.‖67 The perceived broader social and cultural benefit to the public became a guiding principle for new reforms in the decorative arts schools in Germany as a whole.

The drive for reform at the Düsseldorf Kunstgewerbeschule was sparked not only by these broader issues in German decorative arts, but also by specific personnel issues.

Stiller, who had been the director for nineteen years, was facing heavy criticism for

66 Ekkehard Mai, ―Von der hohen zur angewandten Kunst: Kunstgewerbe und Reform der Kunstausbildung um und nach 1900‖, in Bauhaus Archiv-Museum: Architektur, Design, Malerei, Graphik, Kunstpädagogik; Sammlungs-Katalog, ed. Bauhaus-Archiv, Museum für Gestaltung, (Berlin: Gebr. Mann Verlag, 1981), 259-261. 67 H. Board, ―Die Kunstgewerbeschule zu Düsseldorf.‖ Dekorative Kunst 7 (August 1904): 410.

53 neglecting his duties and retired in the midst of the debate in 1902. In addition, several teachers were charged with favoring their private commissions over their teaching obligations to the school.68 These problems with the curriculum and the personnel led to pressure for reform, resulting in the appointment from outside Düsseldorf of Peter

Behrens as new director of the Kunstgewerbeschule.

Behrens was born in Hamburg in 1868 and, after beginning his artistic education in 1888 at the Art Academy in Karlsruhe, he studied privately in Düsseldorf under the painter Ferdinand Brütt (1888-89) and then in Munich under Hugo Kotschenreiter (1890-

1892). Behrens was a founding member of the Munich Secession in 1893 and later the

Freie Vereinigung Münchener Künstler. From 1899 to 1903, Behrens was a member of the Darmstadt Artist Colony, formed by the Grand-duke Ernst-Ludwig of Hesse. In fall

1901 and early 1902, Behrens was the director of master courses in the decorative arts at the Bavarian Museum for Decorative Arts in Nuremberg. He was named director of the

Düsseldorfer Kunstgewerbeschule on December 16th, 1902 and began his tenure on April

1st, 1903. Behrens accepted the position in Düsseldorf, stating that,

The Düsseldorf Kunstgewerbeschule seems to me to be ideally qualified to demonstrate the advantages of a reorganized curriculum, both due to the location of its city in the heart of the largest German industrial area as well as the intellectual agility (geistige Beweglichkeit) and ability to inspire (Anregbarkeit) of the Rhenish people, and finally, first and foremost, due to the tradition of the city as an art city.69

Behrens‘ optimism about the progressive nature of Düsseldorf—or at least the optimism he professed to its mayor—would be tested throughout his tenure at the institution, during which he frequently met with resistance to his reforms.

68 Moeller, 15. 69 Behrens to mayor Marx, 7 July 1903, Hauptstaatsarchiv Düsseldorf, Regierung Düsseldorf 21830.

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In his master courses in Nuremberg, Behrens had already begun to cultivate the relationship between the decorative arts and industry.70 Behrens considered Düsseldorf well-suited for his reform plans of expanding the technical aspect of instruction, developing ties with local industry, and moving away from the mere copying of ornament.

The importance of the use and construction of art was echoed in the broader curriculum reforms Behrens introduced to the Kunstgewerbeschule in his new post. Behrens restructured the curriculum to include instruction in workshops, where students could learn the technical implementation of their designs. With Düsseldorf at the heart of the most rapidly expanding industrial center in Germany, draftsmen were in high demand by factories and other businesses to create designs for manufactured goods. This emphasis on a close collaboration with local industry was also evident in Behrens‘ own work during his tenure. Behrens worked on behalf of the institution, such as his collaboration with other instructors on a Reading Room for the Düsseldorf Public Library (which was presented at the World‘s Fair in St. Louis in 1904),71 as well as private commissions, such as for Karl Ernst Osthaus in Hagen.

One of Behrens‘ most significant reforms, however, was his successful effort to admit women to the Kunstgewerbeschule. Behrens was not alone in viewing the admission of women to decorative arts schools as critical to the efforts at modernization.

In the spring of 1903, this potential reorganization of decorative arts schools was addressed at length at the general meeting of the Verband deutscher

Gewerbeschulmänner (Association of German Decorative Arts School Men) in Dresden.

The association perceived their mission as not only training decorative artists but also

70 Moeller, 5. 71 Moeller 132.

55 cultivating a broader appreciation of art amongst the German public. The education of women was an important part of this overall strategy. As Richard Meyer, director of the

Handwerker- und Kunstgewerbeschule zu Elberfeld, which had already admitted women, outlined in his address to the association: ―The decorative arts schools can achieve the task of educating the public toward an understanding of art 1) through exhibitions, 2) through the cultivation of dilettantism 3) through the admission of women to participate in instruction 4) through training of male and female drawing teachers.‖72 It should be noted that unlike opponents of the artistic education of women, when Meyer here uses the word ―dilettantism,‖ he is not referring to female art students but rather the encouragement of amateur interest in art among the public as a whole. The admission of women and was also addressed specifically on a questionnaire sent out to all its members at decorative arts schools, trade schools and applied arts museums throughout Germany as part of the broader reform efforts.73

In February 1904, Behrens wrote a long letter to the mayor, outlining his reasons as to why the enrollment of women at the school would be beneficial, both to the other students and to society as a whole. In his letter, Behrens noted the high demand of women to be trained at this institution and the broader consensus among his academic peers that the presence of women in such schools posed no threat to the quality of education:

Since taking over my position as director of the Kunstgewerbeschule a large number of ladies of better standing have in part written from out of town and in part those living here have personally approached me to express a desire to be admitted as students to the Kunstgewerbeschule. Given my own observations at

72 Guidelines of Richard Meyer, meeting of the Verband deutscher Gewerbeschulmänner, March 1904, Düsseldorf Stadtarchiv VIII, 121. 73 Questionnaire from Verband deutscher Gewerbeschulmänner to the Düsseldorfer Kunstgewerbeschule, 18 May 1904, Düsseldorf Stadtarchiv VIII, 121, nos. 57-60.

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other schools, as well as my own consideration and finally through intellectual exchange with experts whose judgment I respect, I have become convinced that the acceptance of women to the decorative arts schools is by all means advisable.74

Behrens argued that the utility of including women was not merely the benefit to women artists themselves, but also how their artistic training would initiate a general rise in taste and interest for the decorative arts in the home:

[f]emale students are ideally suited through serious occupation with artistic matters to introduce good taste, understanding and interest in art and decorative arts into the family. Perhaps the reason why such a low or no interest in art still prevails in the broader population is that only male members of the family are professionally occupied with art and practice it only in the service of their profession without also coming into contact with the home environment, while it is the woman…[who chooses] all things that surround our daily life.75

It was women‘s custodianship over the domestic sphere which allowed them to be the arbiters of good taste and culture in the family. For Behrens, women artists should be allowed to design for women, especially since their societal role as consumers of decorative art was a perfect complement to the school‘s hands-on emphasis on implementation. This created, from one perspective, an argument in favor of encouraging amateurs, since it was precisely the professional nature of the male relationship with art that meant their influence did not necessarily penetrate the home sphere. Since only a small proportion of men were professional artists, but almost all women were consumers for objects in the home, Behrens viewed women as in a position to do the broadest cultural work, which had the potential to elevate the cultural interest in the country as a whole. The bourgeois ―cult of domesticity‖ advocated a woman‘s role as a supportive, not an assertive, one, where women were expected to maintain and supervise the family home. This idea was enforced by the law; under the Imperial Civil

74 Behrens to mayor, 22 February 1904, Düsseldorf Stadtarchiv III, 2699, no. 18. 75 Ibid.

57

Code, passed in 1900, a woman still required her husband‘s permission to pursue gainful employment outside the home.76

Behrens also argued for the admittance of women to the Kunstgewerbeschule from a pedagogical standpoint, particularly with regard to its potential effect upon their male colleagues. He countered the prevalent criticism that the admittance of women students with their purported lack of seriousness would lower the overall quality of instruction, stating that, ―Since in general the female sex at this age…is more developed and more talented than the male…. the ladies are universally the better students in the classes. I have found this fact to be confirmed in all institutions where female students are admitted.‖77 Therefore, not only would the presence of females improve the ―social tone‖ of the school atmosphere, their admittance would improve the caliber of the male student body since ―the acceptance of ladies is ideal to compensate for the withdrawal of

[male] students who must be turned away due to insufficient talent… thus tuition revenue would not be so diminished.‖78 Behrens, however, did advocate not tipping the balance so much in favor of women‘s enrollment at the decorative arts schools so that they became the majority of students.79 This demonstrates that Behrens considered women well-suited for and beneficial to the decorative arts; he did not view it as exclusively

―women‘s work‖ and therefore inappropriate for men.

Finally, in addition to the broader societal benefits and the benefits to the male students, Behrens advocated the increased opportunities which a profession in the decorative arts would create for the women themselves. Behrens asserted that there had

76 Lenman, 10-11. 77 Behrens to mayor, 22 February 1904, Düsseldorf Stadtarchiv III, 2699, no. 18. 78 Ibid. 79 Questionnaire, 18 May 1904, Stadtarchiv VIII 121, nos. 57-60.

58 been an emergence of specifically ―feminine‖ professions, such as the telephone operator or typist, and that the ―decorative arts open up to a woman a further field of worthy employment and greater inner satisfaction than all other professions.‖80 Although work in the decorative arts might provide greater inner satisfaction, Behrens believed that— much like for typists or operators—it is technical proficiency and the lack of individuality which are often required for decorative arts and make women so suitable for assisting in workshops:

All larger and smaller applied arts workshops need drafts people, who prepare sketches for the articles to be executed. In the rarest cases there are designs, which due to high artistic content should exhibit strong individualism and personality, however in most cases only a tasteful and pleasing form is required, which must be adapted to a specific technical means of execution and conform to the prescribed wishes of the manufacturer.81

While women were considered capable where matters of ―taste and pleasing form‖ are concerned, Behrens rationales for the inclusion of women as designers reflected the shifting perceptions and gendering of the profession overall.

Karl Scheffler, one of the most influential critics of decorative art at the turn of the century and contributor to Dekorative Kunst, took a positive stance in 1898 concerning the potential of the decorative arts, and the role which the ―feminine‖ played in them. By 1908, however, Scheffler had undergone a complete shift in which he, as described by Jenny Anger, ―collapse[d] mass culture, Woman, the decorative, and ornament as the collective enemy of high art.‖82 This change reflected, among other factors, a shift in attitudes about the nature of the influence of feminine taste on the

80 Behrens to mayor, 22 February 1904, Düsseldorf Stadtarchiv, III 2699, no. 18. 81 Ibid. 82 Jenny Anger, ―Forgotten Ties: The Suppression of the Decorative in German Art and Theory, 1900- 1915,‖ in Not at Home: The Suppression of Domesticity in Modern Art and Architecture, ed. Christopher Reed (London: Thames and Hudson, 1996), 137.

59 decorative arts. Like Behrens, Scheffler recognized that since women were the primary consumers, their tastes should guide the design and promotion of most decorative arts.

However, while Behrens viewed the artistic education of women as an opportunity for art to enter into the feminine domestic sphere and play a greater role in everyday life,

Scheffler increasingly saw the decorative arts as becoming corrupted by consumerism and the unsophisticated feminine aesthetic.

Ironically, although Scheffler rejected products of the decorative arts for their

‗feminine‘ qualities, he regarded their production as a completely inappropriate venue for women. Scheffler saw the entry of women into the art world as motivated by the political imperatives of the women‘s movement rather than by any inherent artistic abilities of women themselves, viewing them as ―joyless, masculine, embittered girls.‖ 83 Scheffler viewed this ―terrible struggle for their livelihood under the pretence of ideal driven work‖ as a futile effort at genius that resulted in ―anxiety (Lebensangst)‖ for the women and an

―inexorable proletarianism‖ of the art.84 To Scheffler, women fundamentally lacked the creative ability to produce abstract form. Scheffler believed that ―the female painter is reliant on that which can be taught and learned.‖ He argued that a woman was unable to intuit form, leaving her ―fundamentally reliant upon [an] imitation…of men‘s art‖ and therefore confined to ―naturalism, dilettantism and formalism.‖85 Therefore, because of this inability to produce original art, ―her talent is adequate only for the… soothing decorative and ornamental.‖86

83 Karl Scheffler, Die Frau und die Kunst: Eine Studie (Berlin: Bard, 1908), 109. 84 Ibid. 85 Ibid., 59. 86 Ibid.

60

Behrens, as discussed above, also claimed that women were ideally suited for the repetition and attention to detail demanded by the workshop, as well as being superior students in the classroom. It is unclear, however, to what extent Behrens framed his rather pragmatic arguments for the admission of women within the theoretical language of critics like Scheffler in order to appeal to a conservative public and, more specifically, to underplay the ―threat‖ of women to the realm of ―serious‖ art. In any case, Behrens‘ efforts proved successful, and in the fall of 1904 the first women were granted admission to the Decorative Arts School. In order to understand the perceived role of women artists in Düsseldorf and the nature of their experience and opportunities at the institution, as well as their ability to navigate their training in pursuit of a career in the decorative arts, it is necessary to first examine the nature of the curriculum and debates over equality at the institution.

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Chapter 2

The Education of Künstlerinnen in Düsseldorf

Beginning in October 1904, thirteen women began their studies at the Düsseldorf

Kunstgewerbeschule.1 Ten women were enrolled in the preliminary course (Vorschule B) under Josef Brückmuller, while three began their training in the advanced course

(Fachklasse) for drawing for the decorative arts and surface art (Flächenkunst) under

Fritz Helmuth Ehmcke. There were ninety-two male students in the Vorschule that semester, ninety-one in the advanced courses (Fachschüle), and 130 in the evening courses (Abendschüle).2 Admission to women was to continue as long as there were

―exceedingly talented ladies who aim to practice a particular vocation and as long as there [was] space available in the school.‖3 This statement indicates that, despite women‘s admittance, priority was clearly given to the male students.

For the fall semester in 1906, twelve female applicants were turned away due to limited space, as the school could only accommodate three students. In spring semester, however, four new female students were accepted. This very limited number of students reflected the still very tenuous status of the women at the institution; it also suggests that such a small segment of the student population were exceptional cases and therefore could be manipulated or even eliminated at any time at the will of the school board.

Nevertheless, the large number of inquiries by women to the school attested to the steadily increasing interest in attending.4 Enrollment numbers for female students, however, remained relatively constant over the next ten years, with numbers averaging in

1 Mayor to director Kreis, appendix, 13 June 1913, Düsseldorf Stadtarchiv 2685. This document contains an overview of female students since 1904. 2 Jahresbericht der Kunstgewerbeschule zu Düsseldorf für das Schuljahr 1904/1905, 22. 3 Ibid. 4 See Düsseldorf Stadtarchiv, VIII 106.

62 the mid twenties, and then climbing into the thirties by 1910. By the winter of 1912, fifty-one female students were enrolled (20% of the entire student body).5

The school curriculum comprised a preliminary course in one of the introductory classes (Vorschule), in which students learned fundamentals such as linear drawing, perspective and shading, as well as compositional exercises including nature studies and the modeling of live models and other objects.6 Enrollment in a preliminary course and the course‘s specific curriculum varied according to a student‘s eventual area of specialty.

With the exception of three female students, who were admitted directly to the more advanced Fachklasse, the first class of female students were enrolled in the introductory

Class B, taught by the painter Josef Brückmuller. This class had been added the previous winter by Behrens as part of his fundamental reforms to the institution. The pedagogical focus of Class B was on painting, whereas the new emphasis of Class A was on architectural training. As the diploma of Gertrud Eckermann shows, as part of the curriculum of Class B students honed their skills through exercises in compositional drawing, modeling, and nature studies (figs. 23 and 24).7 This was complemented by theoretical instruction in the afternoons on perspective and shading, constructive drawing, and lettering and printing. This instruction was also administered together with the male students. The training in the reorganized introductory classes was designed to last two years and intended to provide ―the basis of the entire decorative arts and artistic training of the students.‖8 All of these introductory classes were designed according to the same

5 Kreis to mayor, appendix, 9 June 1913, Düsseldorf Stadtarchiv, III 2685. 6 H. Board, ―Die Kunstgewerbeschule zu Düsseldorf.‖ Dekorative Kunst 7 (August 1904): 414. 7 Eckermann (1868-1942) was born in Husum (Schleswig-Holstein) and moved to Düsseldorf at the age of thirty-six to train at the Decorative Arts School. See Irmgard Timmermann, ―Gertrud Eckermann – eine vergessene Textilkünstlerin des Jugendstils,‖ Rheydter Jahrbuch für Geschichte, Kunst und Heimatkunde 22 (1995): 197-213. 8 Jahresbericht der Kunstgewerbeschule zu Düsseldorf 1903/04, 9.

63 principle, by which students were given comprehensive instruction in all subjects of the decorative arts. The reason for this broader focus was, as outlined in the school‘s annual report for 1903/04, ―because our time calls less for narrowly limited specialists, rather than for all-round trained and broadly educated people, who are capable of seeing beyond the boundary posts stuck within a narrowly encircled subject.‖9

This training was to better prepare a student for choosing an area of specialization in a Fachklasse, as well as provide broader perspective to ―always view his work as something with an organic connection to other, and never as a unique specimen with a separate right to exist… the harmony created by the intertwining of all the arts… contribute to liberating the oppressive abundance of opposing, poor, style-adverse

10 products that blemish our lives.‖ Once a student began the Fachklasse, the emphasis was on workshop training, in which students would see the actualization of their designs from beginning to end, with either the students themselves or outside industry involved in the production of their designs.11 These courses were supplemented by auxiliary courses in the afternoons, such as plant and animal drawing, lettering and drawing after the nude.

The status of women artists at the institution continued to be challenged over the years, and, as will be examined below, school leaders were repeatedly called upon by civic leaders to justify their enrollment. The information gathered by the school on these students as a result offers a rare opportunity to examine the specific situation and social standing of women art students of the period. Of the 169 students admitted to the school between winter 1904 and the 1913 spring semester, 162 women had graduated a secondary school (Höhere Schule), two completed a middle school (Mittelschule) and

9 Ibid.,10. 10 Ibid. 11 Board, 419-21.

64 five had only an elementary school education (Volkschule). As advocates for women‘s training had argued, these students belonged to the emerging middle class in Germany in the first decades of the twentieth century—from families of civil servants, tradesmen, and merchants.12 Of the 121 students who had already completed their training at the

Decorative Arts School in 1913, fifty-three had begun professional careers—disproving the previous misgivings by critics that the institution would merely foster dilettantism.

Over this same period, 73% of female students attended more than one semester, with

27% attending two semesters, 15% three semesters, and 32% four or more semesters.13

This shows that almost a third of all female students completed the two years of introductory classes, with 18% continuing on to advanced training. In spring semester

1906, an additional preliminary class C was added due to class overcrowding. Taught by the painter Albert Hochreiter, it was attended mainly by students pursuing careers in the ornamental decorative arts. This included careers as a goldsmith, engraver, locksmith, porcelain painter, xylographer, upholsterer, and draftsman.14

Over the years, the significant majority of female students were enrolled in class

B taught by Bunder Brückmuller. However, women were allowed admission to all of these preliminary courses. A handful of female students entered the architecture (and furniture) class under Behrens from the winter of 1905 until his departure from the school in winter 1907. They did not attend this class again until one woman was admitted in the summer of 1911, then one each semester until at least summer 1913.15 A higher

12 Kreis to mayor, appendix, 9 June 1913, Düsseldorf Stadtarchiv, III 2685. Of those admitted, the fathers‘ occupations were as follows: civil servants- lower: 1, middle: 19, higher: 34; officers- 4; farmers- 2; tradesmen- 17; merchants (businessmen)- 46; retirees- 5; painters- 8; doctors/apothecaries- 6; writers- 1; unknown (father deceased)- 26. 13 Ibid. 14 Kunstgewerbeschule zu Düsseldorf. Jahres-Bericht für das Schuljahr 1905/1906, 10. 15 Kreis to mayor, appendix, 9 June 1913, Düsseldorf Stadtarchiv, III 2685.

65 percentage, however, began their training in class C for the ornamental decorative arts.

Of the women admitted to a Vorschule overall, their enrollment in class C increased from

14% to 30% of the class from 1904 to 1912. As with the male students, most women participated in regular instruction; only a handful of women were enrolled as

Hospitantinnen, who took part only in supplementary classes (e.g., plant and animal drawing). Therefore, while the female students were by no means segregated within the institution and did participate in all preliminary and many of the Fachklassen, women did tend to follow a particular path of instruction. After completing preliminary training in the Vorschule, the majority of students continued on to more specialized training in the

Fachklasse for ―decorative and surface art (Gewerbe- und Flächenkunst).‖16 This class, under the direction of Fritz Helmuth Ehmcke, included workshop training in book binding, hand gilding and leather cutting, as well as batik work (fig. 25).

The painter J. de Praetere of Krefeld offered instruction in batik, in which a larger number of fabrics were finished in the Java technique that had become popular with

Dutch decorative artists. This batik work seems to have been inspired by Behrens‘ listening trips conducted in Holland before assuming directorship at the institution. This batik technique was relatively new to the European decorative arts and began to be offered in Düsseldorf the same semester that women were admitted.17 The importance of textile work for the profile of female artists at the Decorative Arts School can be seen in how of the six published editions of the Ring—a journal published by the students of the institution—the only one with significant representation of female artists was the edition dedicated to textile art. This edition featured examples by six female students,

16 Ibid. 17 Board, 425.

66 introducing various textile techniques, including a gobelin tapestry by Gertrud

Eckermann (fig. 26).18 Women attended the Fachklassen for sculpting and engraving in generally fewer numbers.19 They were virtually excluded from other areas of training, such as architecture and decorative painting, during the pre-war period. There were, however, supplementary subjects such as animal drawing, for which students were granted special permission to sketch animals at the Düsseldorf Zoo. There was also plant drawing, drawing in various historical styles (stilgeschichtliches Zeichnen), painterly representation, anatomy and lectures in art history.20

More generally, following Behrens‘ departure in 1907 the profile of the institution was gradually shifting toward a stronger emphasis on architecture. A new architecture department was instituted in spring 1909, to address both a growing need perceived by the school for more rigorous spaces, improved architectural training and, most importantly, a clearer focus on the artistic rather than merely technical aspects of the trade. This inception accompanied tentative building plans which had existed for a few years to expand the institution.21 Though high in profile, the new department was intended to be small in class size, in order to provide better instruction in a range of subjects. However, to better accommodate these artistic aspects, the instruction under director Kreis was intended as more advanced, specialized instruction to follow more technical training at another technical college (Baugewerkschule or technische

Hochschule). This instruction was also to be complemented by a new class in landscape

18 Ring, Hft. 3 (February 1909). 19 The first female students enrolled in the engraving course in summer 1909. 20 Jahresbericht, 1906, 22-23. 21 These plans were never completed due to the First World War. This expansion will be discussed with regard to space for women and was later cited as a reason for excluding women from the school.

67 architecture.22 The institution was officially renamed ―Kunstgewerbeschule mit besonderer Architektur-Abteilung Düsseldorf.‖ This new profile was still to be tied to regional identity: ―In particular, at the same time local decorative arts and the art industry of the German West should be incorporated.‖23

Debate over Nude Drawing

The initial misgivings about potential impropriety of admitting women students resurfaced in a controversy over the institutions nude drawing course. Nationwide, the importance of nude drawing for proper artistic training was a central issue for proponents of equal educational opportunities for female students. In his 1895 ―Die Frauen in der

Kunst,‖ art historian Georg Voss outlined the debate over drawing from the nude for the artistic development of women artists. He viewed drawing from the nude as the most significant hurdle to women in the arts:

Women should, so they say, be completely barred from history painting for the very reason that the representation of the human body plays a prominent role: it requires an exact study of the anatomy of the human body, and this study does not befit women… One would argue, then, to let the young ladies study everything by drawing after the female nude…[But t]he anatomists say the fat layer of the female skin conceals the characteristic expression of movement.24

This notion that women were anatomically unsuitable to be nude models served to undermine what could have been a possible compromise in women‘s figural study. This went beyond a limited curriculum debate to serve as the foundation for excluding women from most genres of art—not just figural work also but history painting and portraiture.

22 Kunstgewerbeschule mit besonderer Architektur-Abteilung Düsseldorf. Bericht für das Schuljahr 1909/10, 6-8. 23 Ibid., 26. 24 Georg Voss, ―Die Frauen in der Kunst,‖ excerpted in Die Bildende Künstlerin: Wertung und Wandel in deutschen Quellentexten, ed. Carola Muysers (Amsterdam: Verlag der Kunst, 1999), 278.

68

Voss argued that ―[e]ven the female portrait painter, therefore, cannot do without drawing after the nude. Necessary even for the rendering of a head is the knowledge of the combination of shoulder movements, the spine and the neck.‖25

Nude drawing had always been seen as an educationally essential but potentially sexually dangerous activity. Only by maintaining single-sex classes was it prevented it from devolving into licentiousness. A similar debate had occurred at the École in France, where the perception had been that, as Tamar Garb has discussed, the life-class required

―a male hand to exercise such control, and an all-male environment to ensure the sobriety of the enterprise and the integrity of the project.‖26 The attitudes in French private schools were however more relaxed. Already by the mid 1870s, both the private academies Julian and Colarossi offered drawing classes after the nude. By 1897,

Académie Colarossi offered joint instruction to male and female students. These broader offerings made Paris an attractive choice for female German art students in comparison to the educational opportunities offered in Berlin or Munich. By the 1880s, the

Zeichnenschule (School of Drawing) for women associated with the Verein der

Künstlerinnen und Kunstfreundinnen zu Berlin offered courses in nude drawing, though

―only to those students who have decided to pursue an artistic career.‖27 Such training, however, was lamented as not being rigorous enough by some serious art students.

Henriette Mendelssohn, for example, writing in 1890 about what she viewed as the

25 Ibid. 26 Tamar Garb, Sisters of the Brush: Women‟s Artistic Culture in Late nineteenth-century Paris (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1994), 88. 27 Charlotte Dunker/ Clara Lobedan, ―Der Verein der Künstlerinnen und Kunstfreundinnen zu Berlin.‖ Archiv für die Gesamtinteressen des Frauen-Arbeits-, Erwerbs- und Vereinslebens im Deutschen Reiche und Auslande, Amélie Sohr (Hg.), I. Vierteljahrsheft 1886, S. 103-133, reprinted in Carola Muysers, ed. Die Bildende Künstlerin, 265.

69 deplorable situation of women artists in Berlin and the negative stigma associated with providing instruction in nude drawing complained:

And where should a woman learn thorough anatomy and nude drawing? Everything that has existed until this point at the poor private institutions is so miserable and insufficient that even the province offers better means and ways; Breslau‘s excellent art school permits women to participate in instruction in the nude and anatomy. If in a provincial town such a joint instruction exists without moral harm, should it be impossible in the capital?28

In the case of the Düsseldorf Decorative Arts School, the burden rested upon the students to organize themselves and take the initiative to ensure they received comparable training as their male colleagues. The female students approached director Behrens and petitioned to be admitted to the nude drawing course, ―with the conviction that drawing after the living, unclothed model has an extraordinarily promotive effect on an artistic education.‖29 A separate life-drawing course for women would have to be created, given that the concept of having a mixed-gender life-drawing class was completely unacceptable. The assumption was that male students, when alone, could view the nude model from a completely intellectual vantage point. However, as Tamar Garb describes in the debates over the École,

The presence of the women as artists in the life-class, or even the anatomy lesson, would induce a degree of self-consciousness which could expose the repression on which the institution of the life-class was premised. In their presence, neither the sex of the artist nor the bodily entity of the model could be overlooked. Both threatened to assert themselves.30

As the city was unwilling to finance a separate life-drawing class for women, it was decided that women be allowed to create such a class as long as the additional costs

28 H.M., ―Über Berliner Damenmalerei. Die Künst für Alle 6, Hft. 4, 15 November 1890, 52. The Königliche Kunst und Gewerbeschule in Breslau was founded as a provincial art school in 1791 under the director Carl Daniel Bach. See Petra Hölscher. Die Akademie für Kunst und Kunstgewerbe zu Breslau: Wege einer Kunstschule 1791-1932. Schleswig-Holsteinische Schriften zur Kunstgeschichte. Bd. 5 (Kiel: Ludwig Verlag), 2003. 29 Director Bosselt to mayor, 4 February 1908, Dusseldorf Stadtarchiv III, 2685. 30 Garb, 89.

70 would be borne by the students themselves, and their parent or guardian provided written consent. This meant that while the Decorative Arts School provided the facilities, the students themselves were required to pay for the instructor and model fees. This compromise was approved by the school board on November 11th, 1905.31

This arrangement placed a considerable financial burden onto the female students—in addition to their normal tuition fees. The course instructor, Brückmuller, was paid the same fees as an evening instructor at the school (60 M per month), while the course model received fees of 16 M per month. During the spring semester of 1908, nine students participated in the class, which amounted to added tuition fees of 40 M for five months of instruction. This situation revealed a considerable lack of parity; fees amounted to only 15 M for the comparable evening class for the male students.32 This meant that though the women were not explicitly excluded from certain career paths, as in Munich years earlier, the financial implications of this practice could have led to pigeonholing female students into certain paths of training within the boundaries of a more ―morally‖ acceptable artistic practice—primarily the non-figural decorative arts.

This issue also reveals the tension between city and state over the responsibility for women‘s education in Düsseldorf. Although the institution itself was under Prussian leadership, the school also depended upon city funds for women‘s education. While the city was willing for commercial and political reasons to initiate opening the doors of the school to women, its socially conservative nature meant that when it came to the details of women‘s education or the threat of impropriety, the city government was a source of continual resistance. Thus, making the participants pay for instruction themselves instead

31 Board minutes, 11 November 1905, Düsseldorf Stadtarchiv, III 2685. 32 Bosselt to mayor, 4 February 1908, Düsseldorf Stadtarchiv, III 2685.

71 of the institution both indirectly imposed a specific path for women‘s artistic training as well as allowed the city to distance itself from the practice and any potential moral objections.

As part of the agreement, all fees for the nude drawing course were divided among the participating students, which due to fluctuating attendance resulted at times in considerable added costs to the students. As a result, and at the initiative of the participating students, other women from the community were admitted to the course in order to lower the individual costs to each student. Though this practice had initially been approved by Behrens, by 1908 this raised the alarm once again. The district president (Regierungspräsident) wrote a letter to the school expressing his concern in

January 1905 that ―the institution has developed into a private enterprise of the instructor

Bruckmüller.‖33 In order to prevent this, he recommended that the institution assume greater responsibility for regulating the fees and asserted again that city funds may not be used for the course. He also ordered that in the future only students be admitted with their parental consent, asserting the participating students ―may only be permitted to draw after the male nude if this has been expressly permitted in the written consent of the parents or guardians.‖ He added, ―I would like to characterize it as obvious that male and female students of the Kunstgewerbeschule do not draw, paint or sculpt at the same time and after the same complete nude.‖34

As a result, in March 1908 the board granted permission to former female students to take part in nude drawing instruction.35 However, by the following summer, plans already existed to make this course part of the regular curriculum. While in the

33 District president to Decorative Arts School, 18 January 1908, Düsseldorf Stadtarchiv, III 2685. 34 Ibid. 35 Board minutes, 13 March 1908, Düsseldorf Stadtarchiv, III 2685.

72 planning stages, the female students joined together in an attempt to improve their current situation. The students approached director Kreis in July 1909 with the request that the planned course be set under the same conditions as for the male students.36 Kreis approved of adding the course using school funds and petitioned the board on their behalf, arguing: ―The female students justify their request in that the costs arising from the payment of the fees to the teacher and the compensation for the models run too high for each individual person and complain strongly that the nude drawing course, which is absolutely essential for their training, is not made available to them under the same conditions as the male students.‖37 Kreis also argued that the added tuition costs had prevented a number of students from participating in the class. He continued, ―I can understand the wishes of the female students, both from an artistic as well as pedagogical standpoint, as only reasonable.‖ Though Kreis advocated adding the course separately for the female students, he opposed the school offering a mixed class in nude drawing.

In August, the school board approved the institution of a new course for women in drawing after nude models using school funds. This new course was to begin the following April and comprise four hours of instruction per week—the same as was currently offered in the private course. However, complete parity was still not achieved; participating students were still required to pay the model fees and obtain written parental permission. A comparison of the instruction hours to those offered to the male students is somewhat unclear. Kreis had originally proposed two afternoons a week for a total of 8 hrs of instruction; the nude drawing class for men was split for four hours each weekday between instruction in plant drawing, animal drawing, and nude drawing. It is unclear

36 Mayor to director Kreis, 13 July 1909, Düsseldorf Stadtarchiv, 2685. 37 Ibid.

73 how these hours were distributed, though it appears they may have been offered more hours of nude drawing instruction overall.

Despite the general resistance, the board did acknowledge as part of this decision the importance of drawing after the nude for women‘s artistic training, as well as the fact that current costs were preventatively high for some students to participate.38 Any additional costs were particularly onerous, since although women were never explicitly excluded from financial aid eligibility, it appears they were rarely recipients. For example, in spring 1908, eleven students and one outside person participated out of a total twenty-two enrolled students, with the number projected to increase to fifteen to twenty for in the winter semester.39 During this semester, seventeen women were enrolled in Bruckmüller‘s Vorschule course, with four in the advanced class for

Gewerbe- und Flächenkunst, and one Hospitantin (guest student). These figures indicate that the women did not participate out of financial reasons, given that this instruction was relevant for their course of study. Former students who wished to participate in the course were required to reregister and pay the normal fee for Hospitanten (20 M in the spring, 25 M in the winter, the same fee for men).40 This decision was then sent to Berlin in October, where the new course was officially approved by the Prussian Minister for

Trade and Commerce.41 The new course was announced in the 1909/1910 annual report of the Kunstgewerbeschule as a response to the ―long expressed wish of ladies attending the school.‖42

38 Letter to district president, 17 August 1909, Düsseldorf Stadtarchiv, III 2865. 39 Board minutes, 21 July 1909, Düsseldorf Stadtarchiv III 2865, and appendix 1, 2685. 40 Ibid. 41 27 October 1909, Düsseldorf Stadtarchiv, III 2685. 42 Kunstgewerbeschule mit besonderer Architektur-Abteilung Düsseldorf. Bericht für das Schuljahr 1909/10, 9.

74

Director Kreis was still concerned, however, that these measures did not go far enough and would be met with considerable resistance by the female students. In

November, he appealed again to the board that the model costs—a relatively low amount of 128 M yearly—be incorporated into the school budget beginning April 1st, 1912. He argued that ―this arrangement has until now proven well and good, but it will be generally perceived as severe that the ladies must bear the costs for the models in addition to the tuition to be paid.‖43 The board was nevertheless reluctant to raise the credit for the school any further, noting that ―the state [Prussian, not local] government was only able to decide with difficulty to assume the instructor‘s fees onto the school budget‖ and that the Prussian minister had only provided his ―provisional‖ approval to the plan.44 Though it cited the Prussian authority as evidence, the board was unequivocal in its own lack of support. Despite the advances made by the school to provide this instruction, members of the board clearly communicated disapproval for this arrangement and the enrollment of the female students in general. In a statement issued by the mayor the next day to

Director Kreis, his standpoint was clear:

The present members of the school board are of the unanimous opinion that for the school and its interests no reason whatsoever exists to further support the instruction of the ladies and especially their nude drawing instruction and increased expenditures for this purpose.45

This harsh statement raises the question as to how this new course had been initially approved at all in light of an apparent growing resistance to supporting women‘s artistic education. Even though it was initially a project of the city government, efforts for providing female artistic education by no means ended when the city‘s support

43 40 hours of instruction at 0,80 M a week totalled 128 M. Board minutes, 27 November 1909, Düsseldorf Stadtarchiv, III 2685. 44 Ibid. 45 Mayor to Kreis, 28 November 1911, Düsseldorf Stadtarchiv, III 2685

75 disappeared. What the debate over nude drawing makes clear is that now the primary and reasonably effective advocates for women‘s artistic education had become the women at the institution themselves.

Gendered Debates over the Instruction of Female Students

The dispute over instruction for women in nude drawing reveals the still rather conservative nature of the art educational landscape of Germany in the first two decades of the twentieth century. The art academies still did not admit women (until 1919), and in the realm of the decorative arts, the role of women as foreseen by Behrens, though expanding, the ―threat of dilettantism‖ persisted. In Düsseldorf, though women had been attending the institution for nearly a decade, the status of women students at the

Kunstgewerbeschule was in July 1913 once again called into question. The ornamental

(decoration) painter Carl Hemming, who had only served on the board since the previous year, visited instruction in the mixed classes at the institution and subsequently complained about the supposed lack of seriousness of the female students. During his visit, Hemming gathered ―the distinct impression that some of the female students view their visit to the school as a pleasant diversion and not as an important preparation for a profession.‖46 As a result, Hemming petitioned the board to revisit the issue. In his view, the only way to remedy the problem was to impose a complete separation of the sexes in school instruction:

I do not object in and of itself to providing instruction to ladies in the decorative arts at our school, consider it however a disruption of instruction when it is taught to young men and girls at the same time. According to my experience, the professional training of our male youth cannot be practiced earnestly enough and I miss this earnestness in the mixed classes.

46 Board minutes, 23 May 1913, Düsseldorf Stadtarchiv, III 2685.

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In Hemming‘s view the clear priority and responsibility of the institution was the vocational training of men. His implication was that female dilettantism, though not wholly objectionable, could be tolerated only if it did not pose a threat to this more

―serious‖ instruction:

Should the possibility exist to instruct the ladies in special classes, I would hereby agree to this; if this is not possible, I would prefer taking the severe approach of completely excluding the instruction of girls in favor of the earnest professional training of men, to what is now the case, in which some do not profit enough and the others are disadvantaged.47

Hemming‘s criticism was indicative of the attitudes of those within the male-dominated trade of Dekorationsmalerei (decoration painting)—a field comprised of more monumental work, including stage design, ceiling decoration, and frieze painting.48 The large-scale nature of these works made its practice by amateurs highly unlikely, and thus in Hemming‘s view the ―instruction of girls‖ would either divert resources from the training of professional men and, worse still, potentially deprive them of work.

This criticism once again called to light the still relatively uncertain situation of women at the school. Fueled by this new criticism, the board undertook a broader evaluation of these students. In its discussion, the board first and foremost reiterated the provisional nature of its policy to admit women. Though provisional, according to the board minutes, ―Because improprieties have not occurred, the experiment tacitly became a permanent arrangement.‖49 It is noteworthy that the conditions for acceptance to the institution had remained unchanged since the first women were admitted in 1905. In other words, male students were still being given priority for admission, and female

47 Carl Hemming to board director Herold, 8 July 1913, Düsseldorf Stadtarchiv, III 2685. 48 It is unknown how many of the 22 students enrolled in the spring semester 1913 with the listed profession of decoration painter were women. Bericht über das Schuljahr 1913/1914, 6. 49 Board minutes, 23 May 1913, Düsseldorf Stadtarchiv, III 2685.

77 students would continue to be admitted as long they were ―extraordinarily talented, in pursuit of a specific profession and if space is available.‖50 The overall response from the board on this issue evinced a general lack of support and recognition of the contributions of women artists to the decorative arts in general, and more specifically a continued lack of equal footing for female students at the Decorative Arts School.

In an attempt to underscore the professional nature of their training—and counter

Hemming‘s arguments about dilettantism—Kreis proposed gathering more specific data on the female students at the institution, both past and present, as far as could be determined. This included information on the classes they had attended, their prior education, their vocations after leaving the school, and even the vocations of their fathers.51 In his subsequent report, Kreis underscored the responsibility to continue providing this instruction, given the current state of artistic training for women in

Germany. Noting that ―[T]he question of the artistic training of a woman is one of the most burning of the entire women‘s movement,‖ he outlined the current situation as well as the growing need for more training opportunities for women:

In Germany an art school still does not exist for women. Continuation schools (Fortbildungsschulen) for girls and private trade schools, like for example in Hamburg and Hannover, cannot fill this gap. As long as special decorative arts schools for women do not exist, it is impossible to consider excluding women from the Decorative Arts School. Art academies do not accept women.52

In addition to characterizing the rising demand for professional training for women in general, Kreis also attested specifically to the steady increase in attendance from year to year both in Düsseldorf and at other decorative arts schools. In his assessment, the

50 Ibid. 51 Board minutes, 23 May 1913, Düsseldorf Stadtarchiv, III 2685. 52 Kreis to mayor, 9 June 1913, Düsseldorf Stadtarchiv, III 2685.

78 numbers of women who had attended the school and then continued on to a profession in the decorative arts was ―wholly satisfactory.‖ He determined that of the seventy-six students who had attended the school for more than one semester, fifty-three had taken up an artistic trade. Of this number, the majority became designers (Musterzeichnerinnen).

This number was particularly satisfactory, argued Kreis, given that many of these women had later married, since, as Behrens had argued years earlier, there were benefits to be had even in the cases of those who trained in the arts but remained in the home sphere:

But also ladies who after attending the school are withdrawn from their profession as an artist through marriage, the artistic background is valuable for the prosperity of the decorative arts, because through their artistic training these ladies carry an appreciation of art in broad circles.53

This represents a significant dichotomy in contemporary perceptions of women in the decorative arts. On the one hand, as discussed in the previous chapter, women were seen as the foundation for the German ideal of home and hearth. As art historian Lynda

Nead has argued in the case of Victorian Britain, women were seen as the moral guardians and protectors of the private sphere, given their essential role in the

―construction and perpetuation of domestic and social order.‖54 This idealized vision increasingly came into conflict with the growing rising numbers of professional, educated women. What makes the promotion of women in the decorative arts so remarkable is that both sides of this debate were used in its defense. Alongside progressive arguments in favor of creating inclusion and greater opportunities for women, the most conservative and pervasive argument for women in the decorative arts involved the claim that this

―women‘s work‖ allowed for the propagation of the arts ―behind the scenes,‖ e.g. in the

53 Ibid. 54 Nead, 24.

79 home and in social circles, and was a viable means for promoting the decorative arts among the broader public.

This more conservative vision could also be seen in the segregation and gendering of women‘s participation at the school itself. Kreis argued that because women‘s training was concentrated into more particularly ―feminine‖ fields such as embroidery and weaving, Hemming‘s criticism should be read as applying only more narrowly to his specialty of ornamental painting. He reasoned:

Naturally the ladies are not trained for ornamental painting (Dekorationsmalerei) with the large brush and paint bucket, of which Mr. Hemming speaks, rather for the finer decorative colorful art of designs for silk fabrics, wall fabrics, wallpaper, linoleum, also book making, book decoration, illustration, typesetting, lithography, wood and linoleum cutting, placards, etching and all feminine needlework[;] finally many ladies are preparing themselves for the exam for teachers or drawing teachers.55

Kreis acknowledged a gender divide regarding the concentration of women in certain fields of the decorative arts and thus ―a large part of the attendance‖ in specific classes at the school, namely in the class C (Hochreiter, ―studies after flowers and objects‖) and class B (Bruckmüller, ―studies after flowers and heads, also still life and designs‖) and the Aufseeser class, who had taken over for Ehmcke after he left the school at the end of the summer semester, ―for book and placard work, surface art, embroidery, weaving patterns, etc.‖ As at this point the women students constituted a considerable part of the school enrollment—particularly within the aforementioned classes56—the prospect of turning these students away entirely would lose a significant part of its tuition income and potentially harm the school.

55 Kreis to mayor, 9 June 1913, Düsseldorf Stadtarchiv, III 2685. 56 Female enrollment for the 1913 summer semester comprised ca. 22% of the entire student body. Bericht über das Schuljahr 1913-14.

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Despite the differences in specialty, Kreis was careful to assert that there was no discrepancy with regard to the performance of the female students at the school compared to their male counterparts. Further, Kreis maintained that the overall performance at the school had not suffered due to their presence. He argued, ―The ladies in the aforementioned subjects achieve just as much as the men and are in some special subjects categorically superior.‖57 Kreis also made one class distinction in his assessment, noting,

―The ladies from civil servant families exhibit in particular a very good taste for finer work.‖58

As for the implicit criticisms of conduct with regard to female students, i.e. a lack of ―real earnestness,‖ Kreis dismissed these as plainly a ―misjudgment of the facts.‖ He argued instead that the ―tone of the ladies seldom leads to complaints,‖ and though

―occasionally there had been admonitions course necessary [resulting in] reprimands and expulsion from the school,‖ Kreis did not consider the participation of women to detrimental to the ―overall order of the school.‖ In fact, Kreis discerned that, ―As the ladies are thoroughly well bred, a positive influence can be discerned rather than the opposite.‖59 He also found the female students to be as earnest as their male counterparts.

On the whole, director Kreis had harsh words for the board itself and its repeated criticisms lobbied toward the female students. His words alluded to the continued difficult situation for these women, given the lack of recognition and support for their achievements:

The complaints, which recur each year, bring with the altogether absence of recognition of the achievements an unpleasant discord in the administration. It

57 Kreis to mayor, 9 June 1913, Düsseldorf Stadtarchiv, III 2685. 58 Ibid. 59 Ibid.

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cannot be agreeable in the long run to only be met with opposition and a lack of support within the circles of the men representing the arts and crafts.60

Despite the growing need for more opportunities for artistic training for women, as outlined by Kreis, the board nevertheless attempted to reduce the number of female students at the institution. In any case, there existed the concern: ―It cannot be dismissed that male students who enroll later must be turned away due to the space limitations at the institution as a result of such a large number of female students who for the most part are able to apply in a timely manner.‖61 It was proposed that the number of women at the school be reduced from the current forty-eight to thirty per semester, which indicates that the presence of the women was perceived to be a threat—both as a potential dilution of more ―serious‖ instruction by edging out aspiring competent male students. With respect to the latter, the board believed that male students should still be given a clear precedence over the women in terms of enrollment, though this balance was never explicitly defined.

In the end, as the criticisms were deemed to be unfounded, and due to the absence of any improprieties on the part of the women and the considerable added cost of separate instruction, the board elected to take no action to change the curriculum or admission stipulations for women. This debate, however, reveals both the level of frustration of

Kreis and the female students with the lack of support and recognition of their artistic contributions. It also indicates an attempt on the part of certain members of the board to

―contain‖ the growing number of aspiring female decorative artists and limit what was perceived as an encroachment by women upon the field of the decorative arts. Such attempts proved, however, ineffective in stemming the tide of women from the emerging middle class who aspired towards an artistic profession throughout Germany.

60 Ibid. 61 Ibid.

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Women at the institution during the First World War

Even during the First World War, which began in 1914, the conservative line of criticism with regard to the female presence at the school continued—this time from outside the institution and within the regional government. Although commonly, wartime has opened up opportunities for women to offset the lack of workforce, this was not the case in Düsseldorf. In fact, unemployment was high given the shortage of supplies, decreased port traffic and shutdown of production due to a lack of workers and materials.62 The lack of an economic need for the training of women left women more vulnerable to the social conservativism and traditionalism that frequently arises during a time of war. Also, within a year of the start of the war, the female percentage of the student population increased considerably. In the summer semester of 1914, there were forty-four female students and 208 male students, while by the summer semester of 1915, there were thirty-one female students and only seventy-nine male students.63

In February 1916, the district president Francis Kruse attempted to reign in what he considered the inappropriate conduct of the female students and transform women‘s instruction at the Decorative Arts School into what would have amounted to a finishing school for girls. The absence of a progressive advocate like Behrens and the increased moral conservativism during wartime led to several proposed restrictions. It is perhaps not surprising that women would be the subject of such attacks at this time. As Nead discusses using the case of 1857 England, political and economic crises are often accompanied by a ―moral panic,‖ in which ―a particular group emerges to become

62 Hugo Weidenhaupt, Kleine Geschichte der Stadt Düsseldorf (Düsseldorf: Triltisch Verlag, 1983), 148. 63 Düsseldorf Stadtarchiv, III 2688.

83 defined as a threat to society‘s values and interests… [and] becomes the target of public scrutiny.‖64 As was seen with the Loreley during the Franco-Prussian War, these idealized visions of women as moral protectors are all the more prevalent during times of crisis. During such times, women who deviate from this domestic ideal are more likely to come under attack. Although Kruse as district president served on the board but had no direct authority over the institution, he wrote the current director, Herold, mandating a considerable list of changes regarding the instruction of women.65 Kruse‘s critique focused upon the alleged poor conduct and lack of seriousness and maturity of the female students at the institution, which he believed was causing parents to prevent their daughters from enrolling their daughters. Kruse blamed the situation partly on the young age of the female students admitted who, as Kruse argued, ―do not yet have an adequate comprehension of the tasks of an education in the decorative arts.‖66 Additionally, his arguments clearly indicated that he perceived the role of such an institution—specifically for the female students—as not primarily vocational. In part, he considered school instructors also partly to blame for the current ―problem‖ because they had ―not always dedicated the necessary attentiveness to solidifying the moral virtues in the female students and the appreciation of all that is beautiful and fine next to the teaching of decorative arts techniques.‖67

Kruse proposed changes that were not only clearly intended to separate the sexes but also to impose tighter gender distinctions within the institution. Though Kruse did not fundamentally object to the presence of women at the institution, he argued that the

64 Nead, 80. 65 District president Kruse to Herold, 28 February 1916, Düsseldorf Stadtarchiv, III 2685. 66 Ibid. 67 Ibid.

84 young women exerted a ―mutual negative influence‖ on students during joint instruction.68 He therefore mandated a complete separation of physical space between the sexes, with the exception of the general lecture courses, and female students were to be prohibited from entering the main school building. They also were to be under constant supervision of an instructor, class breaks were to take place separately from those of the male students, and joint school excursions were prohibited. Perhaps not surprisingly, Kruse gives no indication of the obligation or ability of male students to resist corruption. Also, Kruse and other conservative critics seemed to be unconcerned about a paradox within their reasoning. Women who were seen as having such a potentially negative moral influence on their fellow male students were the same women who supposedly served as moral protectors and guardians in the domestic sphere. The clear implication is that, once married and in a domestic setting, women would no longer display the sexuality that was seen as such a threat to the surprisingly susceptible male student.

The most radical of these proposed changes was a fundamental shift in the curriculum for women in the decorative arts. Kruse ordered that not only that the sexes be physically separated in general instruction from the start of the next school year; he also called for all women to be joined into one class with a unified instruction. This would have resulted in a drastic departure from the progressive curriculum structure that had existed since Behrens‘ tenure. Instead of the current system, which allowed specialized training for women within a varied curriculum, their instruction would be instead confined to painting and drawing. In keeping with this very conservative approach, it is not surprising that Kruse also wanted to prohibit instruction for women in

68 Ibid.

85 drawing or painting after the male or female nude or partially clothed model. Only the sketching of heads and costumed models was to be permitted. The second part of the curriculum was to be provided by a female teacher in ―four fundamentals…of the simple and fine needlework as well as in tailoring.‖69 This unified curriculum was clearly intended to serve as a finishing school, providing artistic instruction sufficient for unserious ‗dilettantes.‘ Finally, in order to ensure that teaching methods were

‗appropriate,‘ Kruse summoned all instructors to a meeting to discuss ―the manner and the aim‖ of providing instruction to women.70

Such a sweeping proposal prompted a meeting between the mayor and Director

Kreis in person to discuss the gravity the proposed changes.71 Not only were the proposed changes drastic; the source of this criticism was also problematic, as it came from outside of the institution. The continuous government interventions at the school throughout the nearly two decades since the women‘s curriculum was first proposed reveals how in spite of desiring its political and cultural benefits, the city government had never fully come to terms with the actualities of furthering women‘s artistic education.

Despite this external opposition to the presence or conduct of the female students, their curriculum and enrollment had been approved through the proper channels. Both the admittance of women to the institution and their instruction of drawing after the nude model years prior had been previously approved by both the board and the Prussian

Minister for Trade and Commerce. Therefore, these measures by Kruse which subverted

69 Ibid. 70 Ibid. 71 Deputy director Netzer to Mayor, 17 April, 1916, Düsseldorf Stadtarchiv, III 2685.

86 school procedure were perceived as extremely puzzling Netzer, who responded to these complaints with ―great astonishment.‖72

The nature of Kruse‘s claims suggested a more general objection to the presence of women at ‗serious‘ art institutions rather than to the particular situation in Düsseldorf.

In fact, Kruse‘s criticism indicated a fundamental lack of familiarity with the female student population. Though Kruse had argued as grounds for their exclusion that the female students were not of an appropriate age and maturity for serious artistic training, student statistics suggested the contrary. Responding to these claims, the institution‘s

Deputy Director Netzer placed the average age of the female students between twenty- three and twenty-four years—roughly the same age as their male colleagues and significantly older than the minimum age of sixteen years required of all students. He also noted that, of the female students attending the institution from 1903 to 1913, 96% had already completed a higher school for girls (höhere Töchterschule).73 Moreover,

Netzer emphasized that a large number of women often enrolled the school at a more

―advanced age‖ due to their desire to earn a livelihood. He also cited data gathered previously by Kreis which found that the majority of women who had studied multiple semesters pursued a career.

It was not uncommon for supporters of women artistic education to be forced to defend against such misconceptions and biased policies. In a speech given in 1913 by the artist Henni Lehmann on behalf of the Association for Women‘s Education (Verein

Frauenbildung – Frauenstudium) in Frankfurt, Lehmann argued to open art academies to more women students and improve the continued lack of parity in enrollment standards at

72 Ibid. 73 Ibid.

87 other art institutions. In her discussion of the art academy in Stuttgart, where a limited number of women were admitted to special separate classes, women were required to submit family information additionally for enrollment, and she lamented that women also required the permission of their parents or guardian, while the same was required only of underage men. She quipped, ―It seems as if one considers women in Stuttgart as perpetually underage.‖74

Other evidence indicated that Kruse‘s criticisms were likely based on an overall general opposition to the inclusion of women at serious art institutions rather than a specific issue with the Düsseldorf Decorative Arts School. Despite numerous requests by members of the board, Kruse never cited specific incidents of misconduct on the part of the female students. School teachers also refuted Kruse‘s claims of impropriety, finding the mixed gender classes unproblematic. According to Netzer, ―In repeated [board] meetings, the perfectly irreproachable conduct of the female students [and] their earnest and studious participation in instruction was unanimously affirmed.‖75 This led Netzer to conclude, ―If now and again parents decide not to send their daughters to the

Kunstgewerbeschule, this would apply to all institutions that provide instruction in mixed gender classes.‖76

In spite of these objections, the number of women who were entering artistic professions was increasing dramatically. In recognition of this—and in anticipation of the post-war situation—Nezter considered it vital to prepare for the impending influx of women into the decorative arts:

74 Henni Lehmann. Das Kunst-Studium der Frauen. Ein Vortrag von Henni Lehmann, gehalten zu Frankfurt a. M. Mai 1913 (Darmstadt: Verlags-Anstalt Alexander Koch, 1914), 5. 75 Netzer to mayor, 17 April 1916, Düsseldorf Stadtarchiv, III 2685. 76 Ibid.

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After the war, the anticipated rush of women to the decorative arts, as to every occupation, will be considerably stronger and unavoidable. A separation of male and female students with increased enrollment after the war would require more teachers and also more classrooms.77

As a result of this debate, the board agreed to raise the minimum enrollment age of female students to eighteen years. However, due to the lack of specific evidence, the board considered Kruse‘s claims to be unfounded and no further action was taken.78 This debate demonstrated in large part how by now the burden of proof had shifted. By this point, it was recognized that both women deserved and could be successful in education in the arts. Critical to the dynamic of this debate is that the Decorative Art School had not only created a set of women who were directly affected by and could lobby for policy change, they also served as successful examples of women achieving professional artistic success.

Financial Support and Recognition for Female Students at the Decorative Arts School

Stipends were regularly awarded by the school board from city funds to support talented and underprivileged students. Though they were never explicitly excluded from eligibility, it appears that women were rarely recipients. Although after 1908 students were noted in the yearly school report only by initials, at least until then, no female students were listed. This practice served as a contrast to the early proponents who argued that upon the admission of women they would be offered scholarships. Although there was also subsidized tuition for some students, it is unclear whether women also received this more informal form of financial support. For the 1911/12 academic year,

77 Netzer to mayor, 17 April 1916, Düsseldorf Stadtarchiv, III 2685. 78 Board minutes, 27 April 1916, Düsseldorf Stadtarchiv, III 2685.

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Margarethe Biebach, a trade school teacher for drawing and needlework, was recommended by Kreis and did receive a stipend.79

Some of the awards given to students were from outside companies or external competitions. For the 1908/09 school year, Else Neumann received first prize in a competition for a brooch as a sign of the ―sisterhood of the city of Düsseldorf.‖80 In the

1913/14 school year, the company Heymann & Neumann in Bremen awarded second and fourth place to the student J. Grüben in a competition of artistic needlework. Else

Kleinertz received a third place recognition in the same competition.81

Anna Simons

In 1905, Peter Behrens invited the first female instructor to teach at the

Decorative Arts School. Anna Simons (1871-1951, fig. 27) soon became a well-known scholar for calligraphy and would be asked to teach courses at decorative arts schools throughout Germany and Switzerland.82 In addition to influencing a whole generation of writing teachers and pupils, her courses brought her into contact with leading figures in the decorative arts, including Peter Behrens, Fritz Helmuth Ehmcke, and Henry Van de

Velde (the founder and director of the Decorative Arts School in Weimar). Like other female artists, Anna Simons found success by entering an emerging field of art, which both offered new opportunities as well as lacked the entrenched interests and resistance of established male artists, such as was seen above in decoration painting.

79 Biebach (b. 16.10.1882 in Halle/Salle) left the school on 30.11.1911. See Düsseldorf Stadtarchiv, III 3492, no. 14. 80 Kunstgewerbeschule zu Düsseldorf. Bericht für das Schuljahr 1908-09, 13. 81 Bericht über das Schuljahr 1913/14. Kunstgewerbeschule mit besonderer Architekturabteilung Düsseldorf, 13. 82 Simons taught courses at leading institutions in Weimar, Hamburg, Halle, Frankfurt, Nuremburg, Munich, and Zurich. See F.H. Ehmcke, ―Anna Simons,‖ in Anna Simons, Schriften der Corona 8 (Zurich: Verlag der Corona, 1934), 26-29.

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Simons was born to a prominent family in Mönchengladbach and spent her youth in Elberfeld, Düsseldorf, and Dillenburg. Given that most German decorative arts schools were still closed to women, Simons traveled to England in 1896 to enroll in the

Royal College of Art in South Kensington. In late 19th century England, calligraphy was enjoying a revival, in large part due to the reform efforts of William Morris, whose exploration of the writing techniques of ancient and medieval writing championed a return to these older forms of art. Morris advocated the unity of all the high and applied arts, including writing and lettering, in large part as a rejection of increasing industrialization and mechanization. In seven years of study, Simons passed the exam for drawing teachers, competed training in the department of architecture, painting and sculpture, and the applied arts class led by W.R. Lethaby, where she concentrated on designs for gold smithy.83 Even at this early stage of her artistic career, Simons combined the traditions of both English and German decorative arts. While she was still enrolled at the Royal College of Art, she would return to Germany during the school breaks to study copper work in the smithy of Coutelle as well as engraving under Julius

Peyerimhoff, a professor at the Decorative Arts School.

While at the Royal College of Art, her most influential teacher was the British painter and calligraphist Edward Johnston. Johnston came to the school in 1900 to teach a course in writing and, like Morris, was interested in reviving old techniques such as illuminating. Johnston‘s teaching methods were well suited to Simons‘ interest in hands- on training. According to Rudolf Blanckertz, ―She grasped at once her teacher‘s principle that anyone who wishes to make letters must make himself master of the tool,

83 Ibid., 12.

91 and that anyone who wishes to make fine books must bind them himself.‖84 In a

Festschrift to her work published in 1934, Johnston praised her talent:

Anna Simons was one of the best students (perhaps, in some things the best student) I have ever taught. She had a natural aptitude for the work and a sincerity and directness of outlook which enabled her to master the essential elements very rapidly, and, later, to develop it into her own practical and beautiful work.85

Simons completed her studies in Ornament and Design, earning the title of Associate of the Royal College of Art—only the fourth woman to receive that honor.86

Upon Johnston‘s recommendation, Anna Simons came from London to teach calligraphy in May 1905 as part of the first state writing course for art school teachers at the Decorative Arts School in Düsseldorf.87 One of her most significant achievements in was her role in serving as a bridge between the decorative arts movements in England and the continent. In her writing courses, Simons introduced to German writing teachers

Johnston‘s techniques of rediscovering craftsmanship and historical writing styles, the art of illumination, and the skillful implementation with a variety of writing utensils.88 Fritz

Helmuth Ehmcke, who along with Simons assisted Behrens in administering the course, later praised Simons for introducing him to Johnston‘s work, noting that it was because of ―above all the manner in which she communicated this knowledge that she exercised such a profound influence upon my work.‖89

84 Rudolf Blanckertz, ―Anna Simons and the German Script Movement,‖ Anna Simons, Schriften der Corona 8, 52. 85 Edward Johnston, ―Anna Simons was a student…‖, in Anna Simons, Schriften der Corona 8, 70. A second, modified edition was published in 1938. 86 Christian Klinger, Anna Simons: Meisterin der Schriftkunst (1871-1951) (Darmstadt: Weihert-Druck, 1996), 13. 87 The course took place from May 1st to May 20th. The annual report for the school reveals that she had seventeen students in her class, although none were women. See Kunstgewerbeschule zu Düsseldorf, Jahresbericht für das Schuljahr 1905/06, 23-24. 88 Kunstgewerbeschule zu Düsseldorf, Bericht für das Schuljahr 1905/06, 23. 89 F.H. Ehmcke, ―Anna Simons,‖ in Anna Simons, Schriften der Corona 8, 19.

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Simons was instrumental in introducing lettering and artists of Great Britain to the broader German audience. In 1910, Simons translated and annotated Johnston‘s seminal

1905 manual, Writing and Illuminating, and Lettering (fig. 28) into German, which contributed greatly to the wide recognition in Germany of Johnston‘s work. Her language skills and artistic background in both countries allowed her to publish numerous works in both England and Germany, most notably for the Bremer Presse. She organized several exhibitions of English book art throughout Germany, as well as an exhibition of

German art in at the City Gallery in South London in 1913.90 In addition she facilitated an exchange of ideas among the leading decorative artists of the time, most notably at the international congress of drawing instructors in Dresden in 1912, where she also translated Johnston‘s speech for the audience.91 Her efforts were so successful that when

Sir William Rothenstein visited continental schools of art around 1930, he was ―surprised, and delighted, to find the name of Edward Johnston was known and honoured above that of any artist, especially in Germany, where Anna Simons had devoted herself to spreading his methods.‖92

Simons‘ ability to disseminate the ideas of Johnston in Germany is one example of how female artists during this period frequently were the conduits for international artistic ideas. Women gained exposure to international movements as a result of traveling abroad for educational opportunities that that were not available to them at home, as Simons had done in London. Conceptually as well, women were ideal ambassadors of foreign ideas, given their ―outsider‖ status as female artists from

90 In Germany, the exhibitions were held in 1908 at the Großherzogliches Museum in Weimar and the library of the Berlin Kunstgewerbemuseum, in 1910 at the Hamburg Museum für Kunst und Gewerbe, and in 1912 at the Zeichenlehrerkongress in Dresden. 91 Ehmcke, 25-26. 92 William Rothenstein, ―When, a few years ago…‖ in Anna Simons, Schriften der Corona 8, 76.

93 operating within a liminal space between the cultures of the professional and domestic.

Also, as will be examined in greater depth in subsequent chapters in the cases of female artists building bridges to France following the First World War, women were perhaps a less threatening source of foreign influence.

Anna Simons‘ tenure at the school met great critical success. For example, while a review of the student exhibition in 1912 at the Decorative Arts School was largely negative, the work of her students garnered high praise: ―The single exception is the excellent handwriting specimens from the course of Miss Anna Simons, truly elegant, capable and respectable achievements, which with fine artistic strokes revive the character-filled forms of old handwriting.‖93 A large part of this success, as with the students of the Decorative Arts School, was the direct result of the dedicated promotion of Behrens.

In addition to her teaching opportunities with Behrens in Düsseldorf and in summer 1909 in his atelier in Neubabelsberg near Berlin,94 Simons collaborated with him on creating lettering for the architrave of the Reichstag in Berlin (fig. 29). Bearing the dedication ―Dem deutschen Volke” (To the German People), the architrave according to

Behrens was to have ―a monumental script suitable for architecture, not antiqua, easily legible and of a German character.‖95 Behrens entrusted Simon to detail the boards bearing the 1.5 meter high lettering before they were cast in bronze.96 The lettering was then mounted into place in 1916. Earlier, Simons had collaborated with the noted architectural photographer Erwin Quedenfeldt, writing the lettering for the cover of his

93 ―Die Schülerausstellung in der Kunstgewerbeschule.‖ Düsseldorfer Zeitung, 24 November 1912. 94 Günther Quarg, Anna Simons: Meisterin der Schriftkunst (1871-1951) (Darmstadt: Weihert-Druck, 1996), 33. 95 Peter Behrens, ―In Erinnerung an gemeinsame Arbeit,‖ in Anna Simons, Schriften der Corona 8, 40. 96 Ibid.

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1907 volume, Aus dem alten Düsseldorf.97 Conceptualized by Behrens, the volume featured forty original offset prints of ―painterly views of Düsseldorf.‖98 Simons did continue to teach at the Düsseldorf Decorative Arts School until its dissolution in 1919.

Simons went on to teach at the Düsseldorf Art Academy (fig. 30), and in 1928 she received the title of professor from the Prussian government.99

Women at the Düsseldorf Art Academy

Women were officially granted admission the Düsseldorf Art Academy in 1921 after years of negotiations. The proposed admission of women had previously been rejected by the academy board in 1905 and 1908, but in the winter of 1913 the institution revised its position. On January 7th, 1914, the city assembly approved the plan to setup a new Frauenkunstakademie and to finance a separate building near the

Academy.100 It is notable that much of the financing for the women was to come from the city, even though the academy was a state-run institution. However, for this plan to be put into effect, it still required approval from the Prussian minister, to whom Roeber petitioned on behalf of the board in March 1914.

Roeber cited the advancements women had been making in their demand for equality, noting their increasing acceptance to universities and various art institutions, including some decorative arts schools and academies. He also cited the high costs of private study as well as the limited training it provided in comparison with the better resources and attention offered by an academy—arguments commonly advanced by

97 Erwin Quedenfeldt, Aus dem alten Düsseldorf (Düsseldorf: Schmitz & Olbertz, 1907). 98 Ibid. 99 Quarg, 36. 100 City assembly minutes, 7 January 1914, Düsseldorf Stadarchiv, III 912, no. 12.

95 women. Though Roeber criticized these imbalances, gender equality was not his central concern. Unlike the Decorative Arts School, Roeber saw the duty not to all women but rather to the talented few:

If even only sporadically a truly outstanding talent emerges, the state would not be able to dismiss certain obligations to it. And if the average strength of the talent, though it may be different, corresponds somewhat to that of the male, the demand of the women would be sufficiently supported.101

These conflicting missions between the Academy and the School is indicative of the increasing tensions between high and low art in Germany and some concern on the part of the academies that their role as the premier centers for art education was being usurped by the decorative arts schools. Roeber complained that women who were seeking an education in the high arts would be poorly served by the attempts ―of school directors to turn decorative arts schools into academies.‖102 In his letter, Roeber also expressed the somewhat condescending concern that the schools for decorative arts attempting to provide an academy-level of education would ―alienate these schools even more from craftspeople and decorative artists.‖103 This did not, however, keep the academies from entering somewhat into the domains of the schools of the decorative arts.

In fact, the potential admission of women gave the Academy the opportunity to consider broadening their curriculum to include subjects that ―seem particularly suited to women, like textile art, book art and the like.‖104 This inclusion of the decorative arts into the curriculum should also be recognized as emblematic of the academy‘s inability to abandon the framework of a ―feminized‖ domestic art. For many in the academy the inclusion of these arts was the only way to guarantee women a degree of professional

101 Ibid. 102 Ibid. 103 Ibid. 104 Statement from Academy, 6 March 1914, Düsseldorf Stadtarchiv, III 912, no. 4.

96 success. In fact, three years later the academy justified these new fields by saying that they ―would save [women] from the worst disappointments and difficulties with earning in their livelihood.‖ 105 Similarly, the mission of the academy was meant to open up an avenue of professional opportunity for women, warning that ―the admission of women to the academy should not be seen as a stimulus for women to take up an artistic career.‖106

In light of these reservations, Roeber proposed that while the curriculum and standards for admission would be equal to that of the men, the instruction in drawing and painting for women should take place separately. Having separate classes reflected the belief that joint instruction would result not only in, as director Dettmann of the

Königsberger Art Academy warned, a ―diminution‖ of the quality of men‘s training but would also be a serious breach of decorum.107 Other parts of the existing curriculum, however, were to take place jointly, such as the lectures such as in art, cultural, and literary history; color chemistry and anatomy; as well as courses in style fundamentals and perspective. In order to accommodate the parallel curriculum, the academy advised finding a separate building to house the women‘s classes. This was approved by city leaders, with Roeber noting that such an institution would be ―exemplary‖ in Düsseldorf, and was a demonstration of the city‘s ―willing[ness] to support the demands of women for an equal artistic education.‖108 Roeber also argued that scholarships should be set up for a number of female students; however, due to the loss of Academy records in the

Second World War, it is unclear if this plan was carried out.

105 Academy to Minister of Religious and Pedagogical Affairs, 19 December 1917, Düsseldorf Stadtarchiv, III 912, no. 6. 106 Statement from Academy, 6 March 1914, Düsseldorf Stadtarchiv, III 912, no. 4. 107 Ibid. 108 Ibid.

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Even after approval, however, these plans were delayed due to a wartime lack of funds to hire new instructors.109 After the war, however, the issue was raised again, sparked in particular by the city‘s decision to close the Düsseldorf Decorative Arts

School. This school had been facing academic conflict since the departure of Peter

Behrens in September 1907. The appointment of the architect Wilhelm Kreis as director ushered in a return to a more conservative curriculum and the undoing of most of

Behrens‘ reforms. He reinstated courses in ornamental sculpting and free hand and ornamental drawing—reforms which served to alienate many of the teachers at the school, to the extent that, by 1914, all the instructors who had been brought in under Behrens had left the institution. The school was also facing serious economic pressures. Enrollment had dropped significantly during the war and there was also competition from the

Academy as well as a new School for Craft and Industry (Fachschule für Handwerk and

Industrie), which opened in Düsseldorf in 1909.110 On August 20th, 1918, the city assembly voted unanimously to close the Decorative Arts School on April 1st, 1919.111

In an agreement between the city government, the Decorative Arts School, and the Art Academy, parts of the school were transferred to the Academy. After the closing of the city-funded Decorative Arts School, the city decided to continue its support local art education by partially subsidizing the state-run Academy, given that ―for the past 100 years the Royal Academy has been closely associated with the name of the city both nationally and internationally.‖112 This agreement included the transfer of the architecture department with Wilhelm Kreis, an instructor for book and textile art, the

109 Mayor to director, 30 July 1918, Düsseldorf Stadtarchiv, III 912, no. 7. 110 Gisela Moeller, ―Peter Behrens und die Düsseldorfer Kunstgewerbeschule 1903-1907,‖ 50-51. 111 City assembly minutes, 20 August 1918, Düsseldorf Stadtarchiv, III 912. 112 Roeber to board, 30 July 1918, Düsseldorf Stadtarchiv, III 912, no. 14.

98 sculpture department under Hubert Netzer, and the professor, Ludwig Heupel-Siegen, who had already been teaching anatomy at the Academy. The city agreed to transfer funds to the Academy to cover these new costs.

One central issue in the midst of these deliberations was the question of what was to be done with female students who had been at the Decorative Arts School. This matter was especially difficult, as women had still not yet been granted admission to the

Academy. Therefore, according to Roeber, the city felt ―obligated to provide the women a substitute for the Decorative Arts School, in which they could learn figural drawing and painting.‖113 To do, this city committed to carry out its earlier plans to fund a new school by providing a new building. The new institution was to be run under the direction of the

Academy. Professor Heupel-Siegen, who was already teaching anatomy at both institutions, was slated to provide the drawing instruction, with additional training by academy professors in landscape painting, sculpting and figural painting. This curriculum was to be identical to that of the Academy. The female students who were ready for the master class would then eventually be granted full admission to the academy. As with the original plan, the other lectures and resources of the Academy would also be available to women.114 Again, this training was intended for a very limited number of women—six to eight students per class—and not a complete transfer of all female students from the Decorative Arts School.115 It appears that city leaders were once again careful to not providing any added encouragement to aspiring female artists and therefore opening the floodgates to women entering the Academy. In fact, the City

113 Ibid. 114 Ibid. 115 Mayoral transcript, 16 March 1918, Düsseldorf Stadtarchiv, III 912, no. 29.

99

Assembly administered a word of caution along with its assent to the plan, stating: ―It should thus be prevented that the artistic proletariat still further proliferates.‖116

This plan hinged upon finding a suitable building, since due to overcrowding at the Academy, the women were to be temporarily housed in the old Decorative Arts

School upon the planned opening of the combined institution on April 1st, 1919. However, female students suffered from their comparatively low priority status in the midst the larger efforts to unite the institutions and due to the complications of the war period.

This priority was most clearly illustrated when the mayor raised objections to using the

Decorative Arts School to temporarily house the women:

[A]t the present moment the training of disabled war veteran [as] craftsmen is incomparably more important and essential than the artistic training of women... unfair favoritism rests therein [if] the female students complete their training and engage in favorable jobs while the young men must their give their life and blood.117

Due to the lack of available space at the former Decorative Arts School, this arrangement was once again called into question.118

Women‟s Engagement for Artistic Training

Due to the slow progress of the negotiations, local women‘s groups decided to organize themselves in order to lobby for a quick resolution. In February 1919, members of the Association of Düsseldorf Women Artists and Art Lovers (Verein Düsseldorfer

Künstlerinnen und Kunstfreundinnen) and the City Association for Women‘s Endeavors

(Stadtverband für Frauenbestrebungen) wrote to the mayor in order petition for quicker

116 City assembly minutes, 17 June 1919, Düsseldorf Stadtarchiv, III 912, no. 10. 117 Mayor to Herold, 17 August 1918, Düsseldorf Stadtarchiv, III 912. This building was also to continue being used for the Architecture and Sculpture departments, and additionally for the smaller trade schools. 118 Minister for Science, Art and National Education (Volksbildung) to district president, 22 April 1919, Düsseldorf Stadtarchiv, III 912, no. 8.

100 action due to the impending closure of the Decorative Arts School.119 One role of the

Association of Women Artists, founded in 1904, was to support and promote the interests of local female artists. Representing this organization were two artists of different generations: Paula Monjé (1849-1919), a successful exhibiting artist in Düsseldorf, and

Helene Gericke (1869-?), who had studied at the Decorative Arts School. Nevertheless, due to the lack of space, matters had still not been resolved by the time the Decorative

Arts School closed on April 1st. This prompted the organizations to once again petition that the new school be housed temporarily in the city‘s Kunstpalast until the new

Academy building could be completed. They argued:

Not until the educational opportunities are the same will it be proven how far the creative force (schöpferische Gestaltungskraft) of Woman reaches…. In Düsseldorf, it is only a matter that the city keeps the word of its mayor. Despite all difficulties, when goodwill exists, a way will be found to create space for the artistic training of women.120

These organizations also participated in negotiations for determining the budget for the school, and were successful in raising the budget for live models from 3000 to 4000M.121

Opening of the Frauenkunstschule

The new school was opened ―without special ceremony‖ on June 16th, 1919 in the south wing of the Kunstpalast. Six students were admitted to the beginning level course.122 By

February 1920, however, these rooms were required as part of the city‘s yearly Great

Exhibition (Grosse Ausstellung). In any case, these rooms had not been used by the

119 Organizations to mayor, 28 February 1919, Düsseldorf Stadtarchiv, III 912, no. 28. 120 Herold to Association of Düsseldorf Women Artists and the City Association for Women‘s Endeavors, 17 April 1919, Düsseldorf Stadtarchiv, III 912, no. 30. 121 Association of Düsseldorf Women Artists and the City Association for Women‘s Endeavors to Herold. 16 May 1919, Düsseldorf Stadtarchiv, III 912, no. 37. 122 Statement from Academy Curator, 18 June 1919, Düsseldorf Hauptstaatsarchiv (HS+A NRW) BR1021- 42, no. 81.

101 school for some time due to inadequate heating in the winter. Instead, these students had been again relocated to the Academy building itself, in the atelier of the late anatomy professor Claus-Meier. The number of students had reached fourteen, and a more advanced painting class had been added to the drawing class.123

By the winter of 1921, the school had twenty students (not including those in the class of Ernst Aufseeser).124 With this exception, women were separated into the two courses and housed in one large room at the former Decorative Arts School. That same year, efforts were also undertaken to clarify the rather muddled dependency of the women‘s institution on the city. These matters were complicated due to the war period, in which no contract had been signed to formally set the terms with regard to the new institution. With the delayed building of the new academy annex, this further extended the temporary situation of the women‘s school. Finally in 1921, an agreement was reached among city and state to officially join the institutions, in which the city contributed funds to the academy without any further stipulations.

Due to the loss of archival material in World War II, little is known about the situation of the female students at the Academy during the 1920s. Despite the hard fought battle for entry to the academy system, the experience of women in Düsseldorf suggests a continued resistance to their presence. Trude Brück, one of the first female students admitted to the Academy in October 1921, recalled a lack of interest on the part of the instructors in furthering the female students‘ education. After entering the

Damenzeichenklasse, where she spent a year drawing after the nude, Brück was admitted to the mixed gender drawing class under Professor Heupel-Siegen. Brück recalled how

123 Notice from government building officer Radke, 31 May 1920, Düsseldorf Stadtarchiv, III 912, no. 43, and director to mayor, 6 March 1920, III 912, no. 47. 124 Roeber to Siemsen, 23 October 1921, Düsseldorf Stadtarchiv, III 912, no. 111.

102 she and her fellow female students had to endure the constant disparaging remarks of

Huepel-Siegen, who was against the academy training of women, in front of their male colleagues. ―We acted as if we did not hear them,‖ she wrote.125

These women were confronted not only with conservative attitudes with regard to their gender, but also a broader resistance to the modern in the highly traditional nature of the art of the academy. By the time women were finally granted entry to the academy, in many ways it was a system that had lost its relevance in the German art world. The situation in Düsseldorf in the twenties echoed that of the academic situation of women thirty years earlier in France, described in Griselda Pollock's observation that ―It is not without its irony that their[women‘s] final victory and entry into the full academic curriculum occurred precisely at the point when the hegemony of academic tradition was successfully challenged and finally destroyed by new ―avant-garde‖ theories and practices.‖126

Despite the emerging Expressionist artistic groups elsewhere in Germany, such as in Munich and Dresden, in the first decade of the century, it was not until the Sonderbund exhibition in 1912 that the Rhineland came into direct contact with modern impulses on an international scale.127 This interaction with modern art had a strong impact on the artistic scene in the Rhineland, most notably with the formation in 1919 of the revolutionary group, Das Junge Rheinland. These independent artist organizations frequently had more progressive attitudes towards women, most notably in the prominent

125 Trüde Brück, ―Trude Brück: Mein Leben,‖ in Trude Brück (Düsseldorf: Landeshaupstadt Düsseldorf, Stadtmuseum, 1981), n.p. 126 Griselda Pollock, Old Mistresses (London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1981), 35. 127 Anna Klapheck, ―Die ‗goldenen‘ zwanziger Jahre: Die Akademie zwischen den Kriegen,‖ in Am Anfang: Das Junge Rheinland. Zur Geschichte einer Region 1918-1945, ed. Ulrich Krempel (Düsseldorf: Claassen, 1985), 65.

103 role of Johanna Ey (fig. 31), at whose coffee shop and art gallery artists of the Junges

Rheinland gathered, and who was a frequent subject of portraits by artists in her circle.

Ey‘s central position in the organization was portrayed in Fritz Westendorp‘s image,

Mutter Ey as Midwife to the Birth of the Young Rhineland (1919, fig. 32). This image of

Ey as a midwife, as well as her common nickname ―Mutter (Mother)‖ Ey, reveal how even progressive organizations such as this viewed the role of women in traditional and gendered terms. Other female artists participated as well, including Trude Brück (1902-

1992), who through the organization participated in group exhibitions. The progressive nature of these groups, however, was no guarantee of equal treatment: Johanna Ey herself once asked Brück to not attend the club, claiming her presence was too distracting and changed the dynamic of the evening (though later after a long absence she did reenter the circle).128

The growing significance of these modern movements was not however reflected in the curriculum of the Academy. If anything, it provoked the opposite reaction. This was in large part a reflection of the attitudes of the current director Fritz Roeber. By

1921, despite a revised curriculum under the artistically conservative yet diplomatically minded Roeber, which integrated workshop-oriented instruction and training in the decorative arts, the academy retained its artistically conservative focus. This occurred despite the recent political revolution in 1918 as well as the revolutionary movement of the Junges Rheinland taking shape in Düsseldorf. One particularly blatant example of this—and its impact on the female students—was an occasion in which Heupel-Siegen, upon discovering Brück‘s independent work, called them ―impudent scribbles (freche

Schmierereien)‖ that were ―worse than the sixteen year-old ruffians on the street that

128 Brück, n.p.

104 shout rebellion and communism!‖ Brück recalled that Heupel-Siegen ―called me and my work ‗perverse,‘‖ stating that such ―perversities and filth…will not be tolerated at any academy.‖129 One exception to this attitude was the new appointment in 1921 of

Heinrich Nauen as professor for painting. Nauen had begun his artistic training at the

Düsseldorf Academy in 1898. He exhibited at the Secession in Berlin aand later with the circle of Rhenish Expressionists, including August Macke, Heinrich Campendonk and

Max Ernst. Nauen‘s was an important appointment to the stagnating academy program, in part because he was so well connected with the independent artist scene. An exhibiting member of the Junges Rheinland, Nauen also taught many of its members, and also brought Trude Brück with him to Algeria and the south of France.

Despite the Academy‘s increasing conservativism, the shift to refocus the institution with the incorporation of the Decorative Arts School created new opportunities for women. In addition to this new school for women, the academy also was to incorporate the state seminar for drawing teachers—both male and female—under the direction of Lothar von Kunowski. This seminar was also to be housed in the new academy building, adding to the pressure for the academy to expand. It was officially incorporated in 1921.130 Therefore, women were considered an integral part of the transformation of the academy into a new type of institution representing all the arts, particularly one that would reassert its importance and relevance to art education in

Germany. According to the mayor: ―The art academy in Düsseldorf would thus become the center of the entire artistic training for high art, architecture and the decorative arts, as

129 Ibid. 130 Hauptstaatsarchiv Düsseldorf, BR 1021-42, no. 138. In June 1922, eighteen women took and passed the state exam for drawing teachers.

105 well as for the training of drawing teachers and of women.‖131 It is unknown how many women attended the academy during the twenties. By 1930, the 37.5% of all students in the department, ―Freie Kunst,‖ were women.132

Finally, women were given the opportunity of a formal artistic training, which aided the next generation of artists who were to emerge as professional painters. A fresh approach and further modernization to the academy came with the appointment of Walter

Kaesbach as director after the death of Roeber in 1924. This appointment was a significant departure from precedent, given that Kaesbach was an art historian and not a painter.133 Unlike his predecessor, given that he was a collector himself, Kaesbach‘s strength was that he provided a bridge to emerging artists like Christian Rolfs and influential art figures, such as his friendship with the key art promoter and collector Karl

Ernst Osthaus in Hagen. His tenure was largely successful due to his drawing a newer generation of artists to the academy as professors, including the appointments of Heinrich

Campendonk in 1926, Paul Klee and Alexander Zschokke in 1931 and Edward Mataré and Oskar Moll the following year.134 This also included the hiring of the first woman professor, Anna Simons, in 1927 to continue her calligraphy instruction, as she had previously taught at the Düsseldorf Decorative Arts School. This new ―golden age‖ at the academy, however dynamic, was nevertheless short lived due to the heightened political situation and the National Socialist intolerance of avant-garde (―degenerate‖) art,

131 Mayoral memorandum, 9 August 1917, Düsseldorf Stadtarchiv, 912, no. 72. 132 Anke Münster, ―Künstlerinnen im Rheinland: Das Frauenstudium an der Düsseldorfer Kunstakademie und den rheinischen Kunstgewerbeschulen.‖ in Rheinische Expressionistinnen, ed. Verein August Macke Haus e.V., (Bonn: Verein August Macke Haus e.V.), 26. From 1939 to the end of the war, the women slightly outnumbered the men, but by 1946 women constituted the minority with only 18% of all students. This number rose again, however, so that between 1937 and 2005, newly registered women made up on average 41% of the students. See Dawn Leach, ―Eröffnungsrede zur Ausstellung ‗Künstlerinnen in der NS- Zeit‘‖ (lecture in the Johanneskirche, Düsseldorf, 25 February 2005), unpublished manuscript, 5. 133 Klapheck, 66. 134 Klapheck, 67.

106 resulting in the consequent firing of Kaesbach and many professors in 1933.135 Twelve professors in addition to Kaesbach were forced to resign, and were replaced with nine regime-approved professors.

During the first quarter of the 20th century, women‘s opportunities for an artistic education gradually increased, allowing more middle class women to embark on a profession in the arts. This constituted a significant change from the late 19th century, when only a limited number of private and public institutions afforded women limited professional training. However, as the opportunities shifted from the mid-19th century model of private atelier training, the new fields that were opened up to women were primarily in the decorative arts. This created both opportunities and limitations for the women, as they remained somewhat entrenched in these gendered, though shifting, notions of art. Still, as women negotiated this shift, they were able to use these debates to their benefit and lobby for access into the bastions of the German art institutions. In

Düsseldorf, broader changes to the art educational system allowed women further opportunity to campaign for into the academy. The issue of women‘s artistic education illuminates the broader questions about artistic and regional identity that existed during the period, as the question of promoting women‘s art education often intersected with these broader issues of modernity, internationalism, and regional identity. As this new generation of educated female artists entered the professional art market, they would continue to play an important role in these debates. These issues would be continually raised, as will be discussed in the following chapters, not only in large scale exhibitions such as the Sonderbund and private promotion such as at the Flechtheim Gallery, but also

135 Leach, 5.

107 in the debates of the leading artistic figures of the time, namely Karl Scheffler and Karl

Ernst Osthaus.

108

Chapter 3

Debates over Rhenish Identity

The turn-of-the-twentieth century was a time of great economic growth and cultural expansion in the Rhineland. The regions natural resources as well as its industrial successes made it an increasingly important economic engine for all of

Germany. This created many new opportunities, both for the redefinition of the

Rhineland‘s role in German cultural production as well as for a new generation of female professional artists. As the Rhineland sought to define itself, it faced several critical challenges, which had clear echoes in and implications for the issues facing female artists.

One of the most prominent forums for this redefinition was the Sonderbund, which began in Düsseldorf as an independent artist group that organized exhibitions culminating in the seminal 1912 international show in Cologne. One of the greatest challenges facing the

Sonderbund, and the region as a whole, was the role of international, and in particular,

French influence. The Rhineland had to attempt a delicate balance between asserting itself as an important gateway for French modern art and yet not being perceived, by either the local audience or critics in Berlin, as having lost its intrinsic German identity.

Female artists were often at the center of this debate, given the important role they played as ambassadors of French art and also the parallel and longstanding critique of their art in which any outside influence was evidence of a supposed lack of artistic originality.

Additionally, both faced similar challenges in the realm of the decorative arts.

Exhibitions such as the 1912 Sonderbund used the decorative arts to highlight central elements of Rhenish cultural identity: the role of tradition, the close ties to industry, and

109 an openness to avant-garde ideas. The challenge, however, was to embrace the decorative arts without conceding to the arguments—such as those posited by Karl

Scheffler‘s in his 1919 public Feuer debate with Karl Ernst Osthaus—that the medium was ideal for the Rhineland due to its supposed artistic limitations. Female artists such as

Anneliese Wildeman and Emma Volck were able to take advantage of these new opportunities in the decorative arts while similarly having to negotiate gendered notions of ―acceptable‖ artistic media. These debates both within the Sonderbund and among the critics demonstrate how cultural identity was not merely reflective but was frequently at the forefront of shaping the political, social, and economic landscape of this dynamic region.

Defining the Rhineland: The Sonderbund

Formed officially in Düsseldorf in 1909, the Sonderbund took the initial steps toward introducing modern—most notably French art—to the Rhineland. These exhibitions introduced international modernist movements to a conservative art public, supported by the burgeoning art market in western Germany. The Sonderbund was the result of a ―Sonder-Ausstellung,‖ or special exhibition, which took place in May 1908 at the Kunsthalle. The participating artists were Julius Bretz, Max Clarenbach, August

Deusser, Joseph Maria Olbrich, Walther Ophey, Wilhelm Schmurr, and the brothers

Alfred and Otto Sohn-Rethel. Although this group, much like the Junges Rheinland, did not pursue a cohesive stylistic approach, they were all emerging artists in the Düsseldorf scene who sought to liberate themselves artistically from Düsseldorf‘s conservative academic traditions. With the exception of Austrian architect and designer Olbrich, who

110 had been a member of the Darmstadt artist colony and designed the Tietz Department

Store in Düsseldorf, the exhibiting artists in the 1908 exhibition had all studied at the

Düsseldorf Academy or the Düsseldorf Decorative Arts School. According to art historian Magdalena Moeller, this exhibition marked a distinctive departure by the artists, in that it ―showed for the first time in Düsseldorf a completely independent style of landscape painting—without the influence or after-effects of Dutch painting, which the

Düsseldorf painters otherwise found so difficult to overcome.‖1

The critical success of this first exhibition led to a follow-up exhibition in May

1909 of an expanded group of artists in the Kunsthalle with the new, more auspicious name of the ―Sonderbund.‖ In addition to the artists exhibited in the Sonder-Ausstellung, the first official Sonderbund exhibition showed works by the Decorative Arts School professors‘ sculptor Rudolf Bosselt and printmaker Fritz Helmuth Ehmcke; Christian

Rohlfs, with paintings completed in Soest; and the Düsseldorfer and member of the Café du Dôme circle Otto von Wätjen. A separate room was given to arguably the most

Impressionistic painter of the group, Ernst te Peerdt.2

The Rhineland and French Art

Similar to much earlier secessionist movements in other German cities, the

Sonderbund sought to set itself apart as modern in contrast to the city‘s widely held conservative art reputation. This was achieved in large part by showing the work of

German artists interchangeably alongside those of the French. With this approach, the

Sonderbund artists aimed to assert a stylistic kinship with their French neighbors and to

1 Magdalena Moeller, ―Der Sonderbund,‖ in Der Westdeutsche Impuls 1900-1914: Düsseldorf (Düsseldorf: Kunstmuseum Düsseldorf, 1984), 129. 2 Olbrich, who died in August 1909, was not represented in the first Sonderbund exhibition.

111 stimulate the Düsseldorf art world by encouraging direct comparison. According to the

Hamburg art historian Wilhelm Niemeyer, who played a critical role in forming the contemporary theoretical discourse of the group, the goal of this exhibition and those to follow was to, ―in its overall decorative effect, display the unity of painterly will and the possibility of optical harmony between Rhenish and French art, and to learn from this comparison.‖3

The 1909 exhibition featured works largely from the Parisian Galerie Bernheim

Jeune. Despite their stylistic diversity, these works were presented to the Düsseldorf public as ―French Impressionists,‖ for which the collector Alfred Flechtheim‘s connections to French art and artists to furthering the group‘s aims proved critical. The exhibition featured a separate presentation of the ―Modern Print Collection of Alfred

Flechtheim,‖ which comprised over forty works of watercolors by Rodin as well as graphic works and drawings by Manet, Cézanne, Gauguin, Munch, Liebermann, Baum and Schinnerer. In reviewing this exhibition, Walter Cohen acknowledged this collection as another important facet of the emerging art scene, noting, ―This new type of collecting belongs also to the image of a new Düsseldorf, still so unknown to the outside.‖4

The first Sonderbund exhibition caused a sensation in the city, and subsequently traveled to the Kunstvereine in Barmen and Cologne, as well as the Landesmuseum der

Provinz Westfalen in Münster. On the heels of the exhibition in Düsseldorf, the

Sonderbund also expanded to create a broader organization, the Sonderbund

Westdeutscher Kunstfreunde und Künstler, which was founded in August 1909. The

3 Wilhelm Niemeyer, ―Vorrede,‖ in Ausstellung des Sonderbundes Westdeutscher Kunstfreunde und Künstler in Düsseldorf 1910, Illustrierter Katalog (Düsseldorf: August Bagel, 1910), 7. 4 Walter Cohen, ―Der Sonderbund,‖ Meister der Farbe: europäische Malerei der Gegenwart in farbiger Wiedergabe, Jg, 6, Hft. 8, 1909, 96.

112 board comprised those key collectors and museum directors in the region with sensibilities towards international modern art.5 Its chairman was Karl Ernst Osthaus, also director of the Folkwang Museum in Hagen, and Alfred Flechtheim served as its treasurer.

The organization‘s membership of both artists and patrons was by invitation only, and its large size served to broaden the geographical scope, cultural influence, and professional makeup of the Sonderbund. This large membership also included a significant number of female members—thirty-four out of 258 in 1910 and forty-six out of 316 in 1911— though members did not elect the board or have any decision-making power. Women also participated financially as donors and loaned artworks for the exhibitions.6

The second official Sonderbund exhibition was held from July 16th to October 9th,

1910 in the Kunstpalast in Düsseldorf. It sought once again to intensify the ties between

Rhenish and French art. The high profile of the exhibition led organizer Fritz Helmuth

Ehmcke to call the entire show ―an event for Düsseldorf that could not be overlooked and which elicited strong reverberations, both for and against, more against than for.‖7 The exhibition presented a much larger scope than the 1909 exhibition, taking up the entire south wing of the Kunstpalast. Programmatically, the exhibition expanded beyond the older examples of French Impressionism to include Post-Impressionists such as Signac,

Denis, Vuillard, Bonnard and works of the Fauves. It also exhibited works from

Expressionists from outside the Rhineland, including Kandinsky, Kirchner, Nolde and

Pechstein. The Sonderbund brought in Max Liebermann as honorary member, who was

5 See Magdalena M. Moeller, Der Sonderbund: Seine Voraussetzungen und Anfänge in Düsseldorf (Cologne: Rheinland-Verlag GmbH, 1984). 6 The Stifter, or donor, designation was introduced in 1911. 7 F.H. Ehmcke,―Der Sonderbund, Auszug aus F.H. Ehmckes Lebenserinnerungen I, 1909-11,‖ ed Jutta Hensel, Neusser Jahrbuch für Kunst, Kulturgeschichte und Heimatkunde‖ (Neuss: Clemens-Sels-Museum, 1985), 14.

113 represented with ten works. Although one reviewer commented that Liebermann‘s work appeared ―strangely old master-like,‖ this inclusion established welcome connections to the older secessionist traditions in Germany as well as the broader German tendency to incorporate Impressionistic influences.8 Gustav Opfer in the Düsseldorfer Zeitung largely praised the ―academic infallibility‖ of Liebermann and his ―self-assured mastery of technique.‖9 Although critics debated the progressive nature of the secessionist mantle taken up by the Rhinelander, the title was indeed often used to define the group.10

Critics viewed the presence of French art with great ambivalence. Even critics who were concerned about the negative influences of French art saw the advantages of its inclusion in the Sonderbund exhibitions because it brought ―a life-bringing element‖ to the Düsseldorf art scene and ignited the ―fighting spirit‖ of its artists.11 Indeed, the

Sonderbund exhibitions succeeded in drawing attention to Rhenish artists and thus increasing their relevancy on the broader German stage. However, in spite of the possible benefits of the presence of French art, most reviewers were highly critical of the exhibited works themselves. While most critics praised the early Impressionists, the harshest criticism was directed toward the latest Post-Impressionist art. With regard to a reclining nude by Matisse on loan from the Museum Folkwang in Hagen, one reviewer objected to its ―very raw and brutal‖ aesthetic.12 Gustav Opfer, writing in the

Düsseldorfer Zeitung, complained of the artist‘s ―clumsy, fat and unsure strokes.‖13 In his critique, Opfer invoked none other than the great master of the Düsseldorf School,

8 P.F. Schmidt, ―Düsseldorf,‖ Deutsche Kunst und Dekoration 27 (1910/1911): 264. 9 Gustav Opfer, ―Sonderbund-Ausstellung im Kunstpalast, ‖ Düsseldorfer Zeitung, Nr. 419, 18 August 1910. 10 Cohen, 93. 11 F.S., ―Sonderbund-Ausstellung 1910, I,‖ Düsseldorfer Tageblatt , Nr. 202, 26 July 1910. 12 F.S., ―Sonderbund-Ausstellung 1910, II,‖ Düsseldorfer Tageblatt, Nr. 217, 31 July 1910. 13 Gustav Opfer, ―Sonderbund-Ausstellung im Kunstpalast,‖ Düsseldorfer Zeitung, Nr. 419, 18 August 1910.

114 adding, ―How could one have once pulled you to pieces, poor, great Cornelius, because he found some awkwardness in your drawing! And what all is now being lauded! …Fashion is, however, all there is to it, and not much will remain.‖14

There were also those who saw French art as having a negative impact on the long-established, local art scene. Critics worried about the potential dependence of

German art on foreign influences and its obstruction to the development of an autonomous German or Rhenish art. On the national stage, this was seen in the ―German

Artists‘ Protest‖ initiated by Karl Vinnen in 1911, which opposed the increasing presence of French art in both the art market and in German museums. This concern was also implicit in how German artists were often singled out for their independence, such as when their landscapes were praised for having a non-French aesthetic. It should be noted that it was not only French artists who were being criticized, but also exponents of

Expressionism, including the Munich-based painters, Kandinsky and Jawlensky.

Following this line of critique, the Kölnische Zeitung lumped French art together with other foreign art:

German art does not always need to be dependent on the newest French influences or even upon a mix of French and Slavic ways of thinking, rather we should and can follow the right path on our own, the path that is right for our race and climate, although it is very instructive and entertaining to follow the activities of foreign peoples.15

There was an interesting tension in the use of race in the public discourse. When expressing concern over the influence of French art, critics would frequently refer to an identity that was based in a broad sense of Germanic race and blood. Equally common at this time, however, was the concept of a Dutch-Rhenish ethnicity, whereby a regional

14 Ibid. 15 ―Aus dem Düsseldorfer Kunstleben,‖ Kölnische Zeitung, Nr. 785, 18 July 1910.

115 unity of race, blood, and climate was advanced to crosscut a Berlin-centered identity and act as a countervailing force to German nationalism. Clearly in the ensuing decades, it is the former concept of a Germanic race that would tragically predominate.

Implicit in such critiques was also an anti-elitist sentiment, as critics worried that an overemphasis on French art could also potentially ―fuel snobbishness‖ among

Düsseldorf artistic circles.16 The fear was that a focus on foreign art would alienate parts of the Academy-centered artist community and its public. One reviewer in Deutsche

Kunst und Dekoration observed wryly, recalling the 1908 exhibition, ―The Düsseldorf public wrung their hands and were indignant. They thought: We are forced to enjoy

Matisse and Kees van Dongen without being prepared!‖17

In his preface to the 1910 exhibition catalogue, art historian and Sonderbund secretary Wilhelm Niemeyer sought to respond to the concern that by embracing internationalism, Rhenish art was in danger of losing its identity. Niemeyer conceded the stylistic dominance of France in since the 19th century, whereas Germany, he acknowledged, had dominated instead in the area of music. He cautioned that experimentation with style should not be conflated with loss of personal creativity, and argued that the present confrontation with French art by leading German artists was necessary: ―All German masters with a serious sense of artistic responsibility sought after the highly developed stylistic form of their time, which they always found in the art of the Romance peoples.‖18

In emphasizing this cultural bridge, Niemeyer attacked the myth that Düsseldorf artists had previously never looked to France—or that looking to France threatened the

16 Ibid. 17 P. F. Schmidt, ―Düsseldorf,‖ 264. 18 Niemeyer, 8.

116

German character. Niemeyer welcomed the new dialogue with French art by the

Sonderbund painters Deusser, Clarenbach, and Bretz, whose art ―despite any connection

[to France] breathe fully a touch of native (heimatliche) landscape… [and were] delightful fulfillments of a German sense of nature.19 He further posited that such ties helped German artists strengthen their art as well as reinforce their ―Germanness.‖

Throughout history, he argued, there had been many examples of vital French influence over German art: Delacroix and Couture upon Feuerbach, the Barbizon School upon

Düsseldorf painters, and Courbet upon Leibl and Thoma. However, despite advocating the cultural kinship between the Rhineland and its neighboring countries, he was careful to assert not only the Germanness of the Rhenish project, but more specifically how the region had unique connections to the German artistic past:

We believe in the Rhenish West, culturally and geographically closest to French, Belgian, and Dutch painterly culture, and yet still mysterious, a reminder of the blood preserving the heritage of Romanesque and medieval artistic sensibilities, that is to say the province of painting in Germany.20

Here the ―German blood‖ is not seen as needing to be protected from foreign influence, but in fact is what allows German artists to stay true to their essence, even while negotiating the lessons of foreign art. Creating these bridges between the French and the

German and the modern and the traditional was not only central to the mission of the

Sonderbund but, as we shall see, was ideally suited for creating opportunities for female artists in its exhibitions.

19 Ibid., 12. 20 Ibid., 15.

117

Women and the Sonderbund

While the 1909 Sonderbund exhibition featured only male artists, several female painters were represented in the Sonderbund exhibition of 1910. Included in the painting, watercolor, and drawing section were three works by Else Deusser-Albert, the wife of

Sonderbund organizer August Deusser; a portrait by Ida Gerhardi, who was living and working in Paris; and four works by Ottilie Reylaender, who was living in Rome. The paintings of all three of these artists clearly evinced a French aesthetic. Deusser-Albert‘s

Hyacinths (fig. 33), for example, depicts an impressionistic still life of two pots loosely rendered on a polished table top. The work of Deusser-Albert, whose training as an artist was supported by her wealthy brewing family, comprised largely still lifes and plein air landscapes. She and her husband, August Deusser, also an Impressionist, had begun to collect the work of Post-Impressionists, including a painting by Cézanne.21 Reylaender‘s

Lemon Tree (1908/09, fig. 34) features thick brushwork, reminiscent of Van Gogh. A central tree occupies the entire picture frame, enveloped by an abstracted hill landscape, set against a fold of trees in the background at left. Additionally, the sculpture section featured works by Hagen sculptor Milly Steger and Paris-based Marta Stockder. Also, although these five female artists constituted a small number of the sixty-one artists exhibited, works by Deusser-Albert, Reylaender, and Steger were all included among the thirty reproductions in the exhibition catalogue.

These female artists received generally favorable reviews, though overshadowed in the press by the presence of prominent French artists. Deusser-Albert was praised for

21Woman in a Red Dress, which was shown at the 1910 exhibition and described by F.H. Ehmcke as the ―jewel‖ of the Deussers‘ collection. See F.H. Ehmcke, ―Der Sonderbund: Auszug aus F.H. Ehmckes Lebenserinnerungen, I. 1909-1911,‖ ed. Jutta Assel, in Neusser Jahrbuch für Kunst, Kulturgeschichte und Heimatkunde (Neuss: Clemens-Sels-Museum, 1985), 18.

118 her ―great skill and feeling for color with the new palette.‖22 Milly Steger‘s depiction of a Striding Girl (fig. 35) was singled out as ―completely lifelike in its sense of motion,‖23 and Reylaender was called ―a new and very promising name.‖24 Some of these same local reviewers, however, were far more critical when they perceived foreign influence.

A critic writing in the Düsseldorfer Tageblatt wrote that Reylaender‘s ―excessive impasto‖ had a ―disruptive effect.‖25 The presentation of these works was also not without its problems: Steger was listed as ―Willy‖ in the catalogue—a not uncommon mistake in registers of female artists. Her name was however listed correctly alongside the illustration of her work.

The progressive internationalist, and in particular French, character of the

Sonderbund had, however, created many of these opportunities for women. First, all of these female artists had direct ties to Paris, having lived and trained there for various periods, where there were, as discussed in Chapter 3, greater educational opportunities.

Reylaender and Gerhardi had trained at the Académie Colarossi in Paris, and Gerhardi and Stockder were living in the French capital at the time of the exhibition. This time in

Paris afforded them not only exposure to recent international artistic developments but their experiences and connections also made them valuable resources to the Sonderbund.

This was especially significant in the case the artistic ties cultivated in Paris by Ida

Gerhardi, who was part of the informal circle of German artists who gathered at the Café du Dôme. Osthaus had befriended Gerhardi in 1902, when he commissioned her to paint his portrait. The result was that, as noted by art historian Carmen Stonge,

22 ―Ausstellung des Sonderbundes im Kunstpalast,‖ Düsseldorfer General-Anzeiger, Nr. 220, 11 August 1910. 23 Dr. F.S. ―Sonderbundausstellung 1910. III.‖ Düsseldorfer Tageblatt, Nr. 217, 10 August 1910. 24 Schmidt, 264. 25 Dr. F.S. ―Sonderbundausstellung 1910. II.,‖ Düsseldorfer Tageblatt, Nr. 217, 31 July 1910.

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Ida Gerhardi served an important role as liaison between Osthaus and several well-known French artists… [keeping] Osthaus informed about the latest developments in the Parisian art world… through Gerhardi, Osthaus met Maurice Denis, Henri Matisse, Aristide Maillol, and Auguste Rodin, and he was one of the first museum directors to purchase their works.26

Since a major goal of the Sonderbund was to introduce French art to the German public, this afforded female artists an important—although still very circumscribed—role. Also, for both stylistic and gendered reasons female artists were often viewed as an ideal bridge between French and German art, as will be discussed below in the context of the reception of Paula Modersohn Becker and Marie Laurencin.

It was not just the internationalist dimension of the Sonderbund that opened doors for women, but its progressive nature as well. The ambitious, avant-garde character of the Sonderbund both resulted in and was the result of the involvement of the most progressive collectors and promoters of the Rhineland at the time. These key advocates of French and Rhenish art, namely Karl Ernst Osthaus and Alfred Flechtheim, were also among the greatest promoters of the work and careers of local female artists. For example, in the 1910 exhibition, two of the four works exhibited by Reylaender were owned by Flechtheim, who later showed them regularly at his Düsseldorf gallery in group exhibitions such as his Frauen exhibition, which will be examined in the next chapter.

Osthaus regularly incorporated exhibited and collected the work of female artists in his museum and considered them integral to his promotion of the city of Hagen and the rejuvenation of the arts in the industrial west. One of the artists he regularly supported was Milly Steger. In 1910, Osthaus invited Steger to join his newly formed artist colony in Hagen, and secured a number of commissions for her. In 1911, he defended Steger

26 Carmen Stonge, ―Women and the Folkwang: Ida Gerhardi, Milly Steger, and Maria Slavona,‖ Woman‟s Art Journal 15, no. 1 (Spring/Summer, 1994): 5.

120 vigorously in the controversy surrounding her nude figures for the façade of the city‘s

Municipal Theater, which he had commissioned. He continued this advocacy role during the Sonderbund exhibitions. Although not on the jury, in the 1912 Sonderbund, Osthaus mediated on her behalf, interceding to resolve a minor dispute between the jury and

Steger, who had been invited to show her work.27 He lobbied for other female artists as well, assuming an even stronger advocacy role for the Hagen painter Gerhardi, writing to the jury:

Fräulein Gerhardi was just here. She showed me a new picture of the wife of Privy Councilor Ahrnold, which she painted upon the recommendation of Tschudi in Berlin. I do find it to be a great step forward for her. She asked me to recommend her for the Sonderbund. I told her that I in principle cannot do anything, rather must leave the selection of paintings entirely to the jury. I believe however that you will determine that this painting constitutes a significant step forward for Fräulein Gerhardi. Maybe it will find mercy before the eyes of the jury.28

Osthaus also attempted to use the Sonderbund as a platform to introduce and support the work of lesser known artists—he lobbied for the Danish artist pair Siegfried Wagner and his wife, Olga Wagner, ―likewise an excellent sculptor,‖ whom Osthaus already planned to feature in a Folkwang exhibition.29 Osthaus‘ efforts, however, were not always successful. After their initial acceptance, the jury rejected the works of Siegfried and

Olga Wagner, causing Osthaus embarrassment. This in part reflected the increasingly contentious nature of the jury, in which growing conflicts between Osthaus and other museum directors and the local artists ultimately led to the dissolution of the Sonderbund in 1915.

27 Osthaus to Reiche, 6 April 1912, Karl-Ernst-Osthaus-Archive, S8/ 53. 28 Osthaus to Reiche, 25 April 12, Karl-Ernst-Osthaus-Archive, S8/ 61-2. 29 Osthaus to Reiche, 12 March 12, Karl-Ernst-Osthaus-Archive S8/ 41.

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The Decorative arts and the Sonderbund

The 1910 Sonderbund exhibition brought together not only French and Rhenish painting, watercolors, drawings and sculpture, but also a wide array of the international decorative arts. Organized by Ehmcke, the aims of the decorative arts section were similar to that of the rest of the Sonderbund, namely to elevate the quality of art in the region, to promote its artists, and to increase its international cultural recognition. It also reflected the new prominence in Düsseldorf of the decorative arts, resulting largely from the heightened status that the Decorative Arts School had attained under Behrens‘ tenure, as discussed in Chapter Three.30 The decorative arts section at the 1910 exhibition presented a comprehensive view of the latest in the decorative arts (fig. 36). The exhibition included 278 decorative arts objects (even more than the 242 works of painting and sculpture) and was both national and international in focus. Examples from England,

Holland, and Austria were included, as well as objects loaned from German applied arts institutions (i.e., the Deutsche Werkstätten für Handwerkskunst, Munich; the Vereinigten

Deutschen Werkstätten, Cologne; and the Werkstätten für Handwerkskunst, Dresden).

The show also featured an adjoining exhibition of four rooms by Hagen‘s Deutsches

Museum für Kunst in Handel und Gewerbe (German Museum for Art in Trade and

Industry), co-founded by the Folkwang Museum and the Werkbund in August 1909.

These rooms, organized by Osthaus, presented an exhibition of artistic placards, commercial prints and packaging.

Ehmcke‘s own work and that of his students also figured prominently at the exhibition. The exhibition featured a room devoted to the former director Peter Behrens as well as one to Ehmcke and his wife and frequent collaborator, Clara Moeller-Coburg

30 Moeller, Der Sonderbund , 122-3.

122

(1869-1918) of commercial prints. For the rest of his exhibition space, Ehmcke presented the work of past and present students, including the female artists Gertrud

Engau, Rosa Waibel, Anneliese Wildeman, and fellow teacher Anna Simons. These female artists figured prominently in Ehmcke‘s description of his exhibition concept:

My exhibition objects were arranged mainly according to material: silver, ceramics and glass, textiles, leather, bookbinding, distributed over the individual rooms so that everything in its manifold nature still had a completely calming effect.… I exhibited by jewelry, ceramics… [and] book covers, [and from] Clara various weaved, knitted and stitched handiworks. Bernhard Albers, Karl and Rosa Waibel had an entire vitrine of batiks, pearl necklaces, and a blanket in embroidered net, Anneliese Wildeman also stitched blankets and pillows. Fräulein Simon showed, in addition to her calligraphic creations, a few larger silver bowls and vases that she herself had forged and engraved.31

Ehmcke‘s exhibition brought Düsseldorf artists to the forefront of the international decorative movement and to the attention of the critics, one of whom in the

Kunstgewerbeblatt described Ehmcke‘s students as ―very promising.‖32 These students provided a more local balance to the heavy foreign presence, prompting broader critical approval of the decorative arts‘ potential for its promotion of regional culture. Critics praised the decorative arts for how their inherent regional quality made them inextricably bound to the artist‘s geography and local culture:

Applied art is too closely connected to the realities of daily living, and thus of the nation, for it to be international in its forms of application, like the works of high art whose aesthetic is self-contained. Yes, it is freest and strongest in a tighter domain, where it attains a certain soulfulness (Beseelung) in its form from the tradition of folk art.‖33

It was this combination of the desire to promote local artists along with the belief in the decorative arts as an ideal vehicle for the promotion of a local and regional art that

31 F.H. Ehmcke,―Der Sonderbund, Auszug aus F.H. Ehmckes Lebenserinnerungen I, 1909-11,‖ 14. 32 Paul Mahlberg, ―Köln a. Rh. Die Ausstellung der Gilde,‖ Kunstgewerbeblatt 23, Hft. 10 (July 1911/1912): 204. 33 Ibid.

123 led in 1911 to Ehmcke‘s formation of Die Gilde. Bearing the subtitle Westdeutscher

Bund für angewandte Kunst (West German Union for Applied Art), the aim of this ‗guild‘ was first and foremost to provide support to ―west German applied artists, who can demonstrate to the public their own style, formed through temporal and local peculiarity.‖34 In many ways, this organization was formed for practical reasons:

Ehmcke wanted to build upon the artistic momentum of the progressive Decorative Arts

School, in the hopes that the artistic and professional opportunities would take root on their native soil, and prevent the artists from being lured away to Munich, Dresden, or

Berlin. Secondly, the Gilde offered an independent body that could advocate for and oversee the presentation of local decorative art. This emphasis on exhibition made the

Gilde different from other decorative arts organizations such as the later Kölner

Werkstätten, which was more focused upon in facilitating and creating a marketplace for the art. The Gilde also provided a specific forum for the decorative arts to ensure that they were not overlooked in the already ambitious plans for the 1912 Sonderbund exhibition. This was, according to Ehmcke, what had happened in the smaller

Sonderbund exhibition of 1911, in which the exhibition of ―high art‖ had required ―the entire energy of this organization,‖ and thus omitted the decorative arts entirely.35

Along with Ehmcke, the leadership of the Gilde included Alfred Neven DuMont, owner of the Kölnische Zeitung, and Max Creutz, director of the Cologne Decorative Arts

Museum. In addition to the jury, a committee was made up of many prominent museum directors, artists, and collectors. Although there were no women on this organizing

34 F.H. Ehmcke, ―Vorrede: Die Gilde – Westdeutscher Bund für angewandte Kunst,‖ Internationale Kunst- Ausstellung des Sonderbundes Westdeutscher Kunstfreunde und Künstler zu Cöln (Cologne: Dumont- Schaubert, 1912), 78. 35 Ibid. The 1911 Sonderbund exhibition featured only 147 works.

124 committee, eighteen of ninety members in the Gilde were women—a higher ratio than the

Sonderbund, and of the thirty-nine exhibiting artists fourteen were women.36 Also, despite the lack of women in leadership roles, Ehmcke noted the high involvement of women in putting together the 1912 Sonderbund exhibition. His wife Clara, in the months before the exhibition, joined him once a week to assist with the organization, and her work was vital for Ehmcke in the days leading up to the exhibition:

I traveled there with Clara in order to arrange the exhibition; she was wary of doing so, because she didn‘t want to be accused of encroachment. I alone needed her help, no one could put together the materials as well as she and achieve the desired effect; her unparalleled sense of color particularly in the placement of textiles was necessary.37

Also, there was at least one example of a participating female artist who was enlisted to assist in the assembly of her work. Ehmcke described how ―Fräulein Wildeman also came along and helped, she set up her works, very beautiful large stitched covers and pillows.‖38

The Gilde section at the Sonderbund exhibition comprised four small rooms surrounding a refreshment room designed by Ehmcke (fig. 37). It presented 346 items of the decorative arts, a third of which was from Ehmcke. These somewhat cramped quarters offered a vast array of objects such as textiles, ceramics, bookbinding and placards. For Gilde organizer G.E. Lüthgen, who was the assistant of Creutz, the main achievement was that ―a number of young Rhenish artists had united in a singular style

[and that] the ‗Gilde‘ has shown at the first big Sonderbund exhibition how much beauty

36 Internationale Kunst-Ausstellung des Sonderbundes Westdeutscher Kunstfreunde und Künstler zu Cöln (Cologne: Dumont-Schaubert, 1912), 83-4. 37 F.H. Ehmcke, ―Der Sonderbund. Auszug aus F.H. Ehmckes Lebenserrinnerungen II. 1911-1912, ‖ ed. Jutta Assel, in Neusser Jahrbuch für Kunst, Kulturgeschichte und Heimatkunde (Neuss: Clemens-Sels- Museum, 1986), 14. 38 Ibid.

125 these artists could achieve.‖39 The emphasis on young local decorative artists was different from other contemporary organizations that were more focused on representing either the more traditional Handwerker (craftspeople) or producers of ‗high‘ art. This focus on younger artists also allowed the Gilde to echo the more progressive tone of the

Sonderbund. At the same time, with its display of decorative arts, the Gilde was able to provide a more traditional and regional balance to the deliberately international focus of the Sonderbund. The exhibition‘s 577 works, in addition to offering a major retrospective of the work of Van Gogh, included Gauguin and Cézanne as well as

Matisse, Vlaminck, Kandinsky, Braque, and Picasso. These international artists, in particular the cubists, drew vehemently negative reactions from conservative critics, as well as much of the public, with one critic even labeling Picasso‘s art the ―eccentricities of a diseased mind.‖40 In their eyes, the 1912 exhibition‘s presentation of the latest international art signaled ―the dissemination of painterly radicalism from various countries,‖ which forced Düsseldorf painters such as Deusser and Clarenbach ―to be pushed in the corner by this foreign company.‖ 41 For some critics, it was a call to action in which the ―exhibitions of Parisian novelties… should not be favored but energetically fought against.‖42

By contrast, the works of the Gilde were praised collectively for their ―strict selection and tasteful presentation [of]… batiks, silver, handiwork, jewelry, book art, etc.,‖43 in which Ehmcke‘s former students displayed a ―high artistic level.‖44 The

39 G. E. Lüthgen, ―Kleine Kunst-Nachrichten,‖ Deutsche Kunst und Dekoration 23 (Oct. 1913/Mar. 1914): 180. 40 Kölnische Volkszeitung, Nr. 260, 9 June 1912, reproduced in Frühe Kölner Kunstausstellungen, ed. Wulf Herzogenrath (Köln: Wienand Verlag, 1981), 161. 41 Kölner Stadt-Anzeiger, Nr. 239, 25 May 1912, reproduced in Frühe Kölner Kunstausstellungen, 163. 42 Kölner Stadt-Anzeiger, Nr. 246, 31 May 1912, reproduced in Frühe Kölner Kunstausstellungen, 165. 43 Arnold Fortlage, ―Die internationale Ausstellung des Sonderbundes, ‖ Cicerone 4 (1912): 556.

126 positive reception was in part a reaction to the strong local presence within the decorative arts. In the planning stages of the exhibition, Ehmcke informed the jury that most of the artists he put forward were ―either Rheinländer or residing in the Rhineland.‖45 The objects on offer communicated a reassuring rootedness in local handicrafts, décor of the

Rhenish home, and ties to traditional art. It is worth noting this was neither a retreat into provincialism nor an attempt to placate the local community. In fact, members of the artistic community in the new host city of Cologne had complained that local Cologne artists were underrepresented. By focusing on the Rhineland, Ehmcke was able to have an exhibition that was simultaneously narrow enough to give it a local flavor but at the same time large enough to include his students from throughout the region, as well as establish a presence as a significant international artistic center.

The focus on the Rhineland also allowed the Gilde to create ties between local decorative artists and perhaps the most significant force in the region, namely industry.

Both through the Sonderbund exhibition and more generally, the Gilde attempted to

bring together the big firms and applied arts businesses located in west Germany with younger artists active in the field, in order to carve out a place for new artistic ideas in future large exhibitions—and, even more importantly, in the daily practical tasks which will arise that is their due given the high level of industrial activity and the talent gathered there.46

Bringing together decorative arts and industry and increasing the number of commissions which these artists received was a vital part of Ehmcke‘s overarching mission to make the

Rhineland commercially viable for artists and prevent it from losing their talents to other cities. This integration was also seen as a boon for industry and society, both of whom would benefit from the elevation of taste and quality of mass produced goods within the

44 Mahlberg. 45 F.H. Ehmcke, ―Der Sonderbund. Auszug aus F.H. Ehmckes Lebenserinnerungen II 1911-1912, ‖ 12. 46 Ehmcke, ―Vorrede,‖ 79-80.

127 home. This cooperation with industry did not however mean a complete shift to mechanization. Works such as batik textiles, which were very individualized and non- industrial, still played a major role in the exhibition. The goal was not to create a uniform style but to bring together these worlds of handicraft and mechanization for a dialogue that emphasized highly skilled and artistic production. This closely echoed the fundamental principles of the Werkbund on the national level to overcome the ―alienation between the productive and inventive spirit‖ and advance the belief that ―artists and producers, or more precisely inventors and producers—because production is naturally also an art—are not necessary opposites, rather necessary complements.‖47 Paul

Mahlberg observed that it was ―astonishing that such an organization hadn‘t been formed earlier, given the rich trade and industry there [in the Rhineland].‖48 The important role that industry played within the Rhineland meant that this collaboration only served to intensify the traditional and local appeal of the Gilde exhibition.

In spite of this perception of the local and traditional nature of the Gilde, the works stylistically were arguably no less avant-garde than the rest of the exhibition.

According to Mahlberg, due to Ehmcke‘s careful direction and curatorial eye in presenting the work of Gilde participants ―a lot of mischief is avoided that occurs elsewhere in many cases in today‘s decorative arts… [where some] craftspeople, though progressive in other areas, in their household furnishings have willingly taken refuge in the past.‖49 In many ways, it was a continuation of the 1910 exhibition and its clear aim for the “further propagation of modern decorative arts ideas in west Germany.‖50 One

47 Fritz Schumacher, Gründungsrede zum Deutschen Werkbund, Die Form 7 (1932): 330. 48 Mahlberg, 204. 49 Ibid. 50 Ibid.

128 example of this can be seen in the works of Emma Volck (1876-1960, fig. 38). Volck showed eleven works executed in batik for the exhibition, including a range of textiles and a painted jewelry box with parchment. Her works were characterized by balanced compositions which favor a strong repetition of geometric shapes set within a dense network of flowing and at times intersecting lines. One surviving example of such work

(not in the exhibition) is a cobalt blue pillow from 1909/10, also executed in batik (fig.

39), in which Volck created flowing shapes in ochre and white set against cobalt blue silk.

This juxtaposition of curvilinear shapes and patterned forms echo the early plant motifs of Jugendstil, but emerge as autonomous style with a bold compositional and almost elemental force. As art historian Claus Pese has noted, ―The ornament in the batiks of

Emma Volck corresponds to the bizarre symmetry of the microcosmos or repeat simple geometrically constructed forms with circles and lines.‖51

The avant-garde nature of many of these works served as an affirmation of the innovative curriculum of the Düsseldorf Decorative Arts School instituted by Behrens, which had trained many of the participating artists. Emma Volck, for example, studied in

Düsseldorf under Ehmcke from 1905-06 following her time as a designer (1899-1904) and student of Behrens (1901-1902) at the Bayerisches Gewerbemuseum in her native

Nuremberg.52 This exhibition combined progressive aesthetic principles with the broad focus and practical workshop training of Ehmcke that included a Werkstattkurs in dying textiles in batik, and the application of this technique on leather and parchment.

Anneliese Wildeman, another former student of Ehmcke, exhibited, as she wrote,

―at the Gilde of the Cologne Sonderbund sixteen works, including a large piano cover in

51 Claus Pese, Jugendstil aus Nürnberg (Stuttgart: Arnoldsche, 2007), 48. 52 Volck was also listed as a student in 1906 in the metalwork class of Julius Peyerimhoff.

129 hand embroidery, five books, hand gilded, [and] a jewelry box in wood intarsia.‖53 Her

Piano Cover (fig. 40) conveyed her exacting detail and strong compositional skill. It was a balanced Jugendstil composition of abstracted vegetal forms with a dense ornamental center, dominated by two large circular fields with intricately stitched geometric shapes, curlicues, and leaf motifs. Wildeman also exhibited an embroidered silk dress. In describing her idea of clothing, she wrote, ―In a dress I want to simultaneously convey a personal statement, my joy of bold colors, [and] my aspiration toward strict ornamental art, which in turn should be an expression of inner feeling.‖54 This combination of color, expression, and ornamentation was part of the broader search for a new formal language within the decorative arts and the attempt to find a modern style suitable for the applied arts and German home décor.

Generally, these works were well received. Anna Simons was praised by

Mahlberg for her typographic art, who wrote, ―The best of all book art and calligraphy are not only quantitatively but also qualitatively represented at this exhibition. The writing samples of Anna Simons, a student of Edward Johnstone [sic] are exemplary.‖55

This raises the question, however, of why the progressive nature of many of these works of decorative art did not receive the same criticism as the ‗high‘ art of the Sonderbund.

One reason was that these avant-garde compositions remained within the ‗safe‘ confines of a medium that was perceived as less threatening to a German audience. Also, the use of abstraction within ornamental compositions was a far more common and familiar device in decorative art. It was, however, this close association of ornamentation and

53 Wildeman to Agnes Grave, Assistant at the Folkwang Museum, 27 July 1912, Karl-Ernst-Osthaus- Archive, T58. 54 Wildeman to Osthaus‘ assistant (and her future fiancé) August Kuth, 9 December 1909, Karl-Ernst- Osthaus-Archive, F1/806/7/1-2. 55 Mahlberg, 204

130 abstraction that was used to criticize abstraction in ‗high‘ art. One critic lamented in the

Kölner Stadt-Anzeiger that modernist painting was effecting a ―complete dissolution of what we have held in esteem for centuries in the art of painting, and is becoming itself like the decorative arts. We no longer see artists at work, rather painters who merely create designs for carpets, embroidery, and wallpaper.‖56 For some, however, ornamentation was a bridge between modernist abstraction and Germany‘s traditional artistic past. In his discussion of a chapel installed for the exhibition, which juxtaposed wall paintings by Heckel and Kirchner with stained glass windows by Thorn-Prikker,

Mahlberg wrote "it is brought here into an artistic system of saturation of space and color that recalls the force of very old tapestries and the beauty of color and spiritual evocativeness of gothic architecture.‖57

The decorative arts made abstraction more palatable by grounding it in the context of the German cultural past, in much the same way that female artists used the decorative arts to make their promotion more acceptable by emphasizing ties to German traditions of home and hearth. The central role which the decorative arts played in the promotion of the Rhineland only served to intensify their importance for female artists with ties to the region. Additionally, just as the decorative arts were seen as a safer, less threatening sphere for experimentation with avant-garde ideas, they were also a more acceptable forum for female artists. The established roles of women as producers, consumers, and saleswomen of the decorative arts created a close association with the feminine and the decorative, forming a bounded realm in which female artists were afforded success, even when this praise was couched in rather patronizing terms. Paul Mahlberg, for example,

56 Kölner Stadt-Anzeiger, Nr. 246, 31 May 1912, reproduced in Frühe Kölner Kunstausstellungen, 165. 57 Paul Mahlberg, ―Die internationale Sonderbundausstellung in Köln,‖ Kunst und Künstler 20 (July 1912): 511.

131 praised Volck‘s ―charming intimate works.”58 The medium itself of children‘s bonnets and women‘s clothing, to give two examples from this exhibition, admittedly served to reinforce this ‗feminine‘ framing. However, much like the close association between abstraction and ornamentation, ties between the feminine and the decorative were used to critique abstraction in ―high art.‖ Ornamentation in painting was seen as threatening the conversion of ―high art‖ into a highly commodified and feminized realm, akin to Parisian fashion. As one local critic wrote, ―Such art has the advantage that it can bring out a new pattern every season… that many marginal agitations in Parisian art are followed in

Germany at all is tied to the modern hunt for the latest things, which as a novelty rush has ruined German theater and perhaps now is ruining fine art in Germany.‖59 This would be seen, as Jenny Anger argues, in the critiques of male expressionist artists like Paul Klee, who was perceived by critics as overly ornamental, and therefore feminine.60 For this reason, many artists and advocates of modernist art sought to distance themselves from the decorative arts by advancing a distinction between ‗feminine‘ ornamentation and

‗excess‘ and ‗masculine‘ abstraction. This distinction would dominate the discourse on modernism in the decades to come, where for leading art critics Clement Greenberg and

Harold Rosenberg ―the decorative was the antithesis of art.‖61 In theory as well as in practice, many of these distinctions would prove both slippery and artificial.62

Although it clearly fell short of unqualified acceptance of female artists, the prominent inclusion of female artists in a high profile international exhibition was in and

58 Mahlberg, ―Köln a. Rh. Ausstellung der ‗Gilde,‘‖ 204. 59 Kölner Stadt-Anzeiger, Nr. 246, 31 May 1912, reproduced in Frühe Kölner Kunstausstellungen, 165. 60 Jenny Anger, Paul Klee and the Decorative in Modern Art (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2004). 61 Christopher Reed, ―Introduction,‖ in Not at Home: The Suppression of Domesticity in Modern Art and Architecture (London: Thames and Hudson, 1996), 15. 62 See Jenny Anger, ―Forgotten Ties: The Suppression of the Decorative in German Art and Theory, 1900- 1915,‖ in Not at Home.

132 of itself an important milestone. The Gilde offered an important venue for their work, as well as the opportunity for broader exposure alongside the latest international art and helped establish the ever increasing role that female artists played in decorative arts production in the region. Sales from the exhibition also indicated its positive reception, with the Kölnische Volkszeitung listing sales of works by Gertrud Engau, Elsa Saalmann and Paula Kuhlmann.63 Establishing themselves as professional and even highly modern artists validated the successes of women‘s tenure at the institution and served to counter the accusations of dilettantism. This negotiation of abstraction, particularly within the realm of textile art, would continue to advance female artists as modernists after the war, as seen in the work of the all-female Weaving Workshop at the Bauhaus under Gunta

Stötzl. However, as this example shows, though workshops such as these afforded them opportunities, they frequently remained segregated into gendered media within the decorative arts.64 Additionally, their presence appears to have been met with growing acceptance or at least toleration by conservative critics who had long criticized their encroachment in the ‗serious‘ art production. Moreover, it conveys the close relationship that existed between local production, industry, and regional identity, and the vital role of women this project. On an individual level, the Gilde was at least partially responsible for achieving one of Ehmcke‘s central goals, that of keeping local talent in the Rhineland:

Engau and Wildeman remained in the region, with Engau maintaining a ―workshop for batik, hand, and machine embroidery‖ in Düsseldorf and Wildeman a workshop in

63 Kölnische Volkszeitung, 7 July 1912, reproduced in Frühe Kölner Kunstausstellungen, 173. 64 See Sigrid Wortmann Weltge, Women‟s Work: Textile Work from the Bauhaus (San Francisco: Chronicle Books, 1993).

133

Bonn.65 In addition, both contributed to regional education, with Wildeman teaching at the Kölner Handarbeitsseminar and Engau at the Decorative Arts School in Aachen.

Through this exhibition, and throughout their careers, these women navigated this liminal space between high and low art, ornament and abstraction, regional and international.

However, in spite of its success in promoting both female artists and regional decorative art, the Gilde itself was short-lived, as a result of the collapse of the Sonderbund from artistic infighting and Ehmcke‘s acceptance of a teaching position at the Decorative Arts

School in Munich in 1914. The end of the Sonderbund obviously was not the end of the project for promoting and defining the Rhineland. Increasingly, however, this project was taken up by promoters and dealers like Osthaus and Flechtheim, for whom the negotiation of the role of international art and local industry in the Rhineland became all the more challenging following World War I.

65 ―Mitgliederverzeichnis, Bundesämter, und Sätzung des Deutschen Werkbundes,‖ in Jahrbuch des Deutschen Werkbundes 1913 (Jena: Eugen Diederichs, 1913), n.p.

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Defining the Post-War Rhineland

Following the war, local artist groups, regional journals, progressive museums, and private collectors all returned to the efforts of defining Rhenish cultural identity.

This project was never more contentious or critical than at this time, given the

Rhineland‘s position between Berlin and Paris, as well as its occupied status. In 1918, the playwright Herbert Eulenberg published an ―Appeal to Young Rhenish Artists,‖ along with the artists Adolf Uzarski and Arthur Kaufmann. Earlier that year a controversy had arisen, sparked by the transferring of the Große Berliner Ausstellung to the Düsseldorf

Kunsthalle. The artistic community was incensed at the exhibition‘s poor representation of local artists, particularly of the younger generation. As a result, the artists felt compelled ―out of necessity‖ to form a new artist organization, in order to ―capture for the young Rhenish artists their duly, much too long denied place in German artistic production.‖66 Das Junge Rheinland, or Young Rhineland, was founded on February 24th,

1919. The group‘s first exhibition was held from June to July, 1919 in the Düsseldorf

Kunsthalle and featured an imposing 113 artists, including seventeen women. The

Junges Rheinland represented a centralized effort within the local artist community to gain broader recognition within Germany. The goal was to draw attention to the new artistic impulses that were emerging beyond the conservative constraints of the Academy.

Another way that the Rhineland aimed to raise its profile during the post-war period was through the establishment of cultural journals. The same year, a new journal

Feuer: Die Rheinische Kunstzeitschrift des großen Stils published its first edition in

66 Adolf Uzarski, Herbert Eulenberg, and Arthur Kaufmann, ―Aufruf an die jungen rheinischen Künstler,‖ typescript, 1918, reproduced in Am Anfang: Das Junge Rheinland. Zur Kunst- und Zeitgeschichte einer Region 1918-1945, ed. Ulrich Krempel (Düsseldorf: Claasen, 1985), 19.

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October 1919. Its editor was Guido Bagier, in Düsseldorf, with Hedda and Herbert

Eulenberg assuming the journal‘s literary direction and Paul Hoffmann in Saarbrücken as artistic director. The journal‘s subtitle heralded its central focus as ―the Rhenish art journal in the grand style,‖ perhaps as a preemptive address to critics who had questioned the seriousness of regional journals, such as Die Rheinlande. Regional journals also suffered from economic pressures, with Die Rheinlande reducing its flagging publication to quarterly issues by 1919. Nevertheless, despite these critical and economic difficulties, regional journals continued to serve as key vehicles of cultural identity in the post-war period. Feuer aimed to forge a unified cultural front in the West, broadly including the industrial region of neighboring Westphalia. Feuer, like Die Rheinlande, was geared toward an elite audience, as demonstrated by its large number of illustrations and color plates.67 The two journals shared other similarities; both had a broad cultural focus and frequently evoked tropes of a shared Rhenish cultural past. They also shared contributors—Walter Cohen, for example, who had assumed supervision of the art coverage in Die Rheinlande after the war, was a frequent contributor to Feuer, submitting articles on the Old Cologne masters and the Düsseldorf School.

Feuer was dedicated to channeling the surge of new cultural production taking place within the post-war Rhineland. The journal, which published monthly editions until 1922, aimed to present a comprehensive view of contemporary artistic production— fine arts, literature, music—as well as to address ―timely artistic questions.‖68 The purpose of the journal, as recalled by its editors upon reaching its third year of

67 For example, the 1919/20 issue 2/3 had a wide format, with 60 illustrations, 8 color illustrations and 10 plates. 68 Advertisement in Walter Ophey. Bildwerke von Louise Böninger. Catalogue. October/November 1920 (Düsseldorf: Galerie Flechtheim, 1920), n.p.

136 publication, was to ―create a mouthpiece that addressed evenly all expressions of the intellectual fermentation and strived for an objective appraisal.‖69 Its first edition opened with a poem of the same name by Eulenberg, which articulated its desire to promote as well as inspire new artistic impulses:

Lasst Glut zur Flamme schwellen!/Ein jeder lebt, die Erde zu erhellen. Let the embers swell to a flame!/ Each person lives to illuminate the earth.‖70

This mission could be seen in one of the journal‘s first activities: the competition to design its cover. The jury reflected the degree to which Feuer enlisted the leading artistic

Rhenish artists and promoters of the time, including Ernst Aufseeser, F.H. Ehmcke,

Alfred Flechtheim, and Karl Koetschau. The winning entries were subsequently exhibited in the Flechtheim Gallery as well as in Berlin, Munich, Frankfurt, and

Cologne.71 In addition to presenting the Rhineland as center for progressive art in the post-war period, and drawing upon the revolutionary undertones of the Junges Rheinland, the journal attempted to reestablish a dialogue with France, emphasizing the important role that the Rhineland could play, given its proximity, in the recent reconciliation with

Paris. For example, Feuer included a profile of German artists who converged upon the

Café du Dôme in Paris, and Karl Ernst Osthaus contributed articles on his personal encounters with Cézanne, Rodin, and Renoir. The journal‘s goal was to use the geographic and political position of the Rhineland to create advantages for artists and promote this openness and internationalism to advance a uniquely Rhenish aesthetic.

69 ―An unsere Leser!‖, Feuer, Jg. 3 Hft. 1 (Oct. 1921), n.p. 70 Herbert Eulenberg, ―Feuer,‖ Feuer 1, Hft. 1 (Oct. 1919): n.p. 71 Announcement in Max Schulze-Soelde. Willy Lammert. Pentecost to 28 June 1919 (Düsseldorf: Alfred Flechtheim Gallery, June 1919), 17.

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The Rhineland vs. Berlin

Perhaps the most contentious dimension of this attempt to define a Rhenish aesthetic was the continued juxtaposition of the Rhineland with their other magnetic pole in matters of culture: the German capital. Feuer was at the forefront of the ongoing artistic debates with Berlin, starting with the very first issue. Initiating this latest round of debate was none other than the leading cultural critic, Karl Scheffler, who still served as editor of the Kunst and Künstler in Berlin. By singling out this Rhenish journal,

Scheffler directly challenged the key Rhenish cultural figures to a public debate.

Scheffler offered up his critique in an open letter to the journal, presenting arguments that ranged from political attacks to patronizing cultural assessments to, reflecting his persistent advocacy of Impressionism, visual critiques of the art itself. However, the main focus of his argument, as evidenced by the title of his letter, ―The Rhineland and

Berlin,‖ was the Rhenish self-definition in opposition to Berlin.

Scheffler‘s opponent in this debate was Karl Ernst Osthaus (1874-1921), one of the most prominent collectors of contemporary French and German art. Osthaus had long been a leading champion of the fine and decorative arts of the industrial West, especially in his native city of Hagen in Westphalia, with dedicated efforts to reignite the art scene after the war and to promote its young artists. In Hagen, he founded and became the director of the Folkwang Museum in 1902, which quickly became one of the most progressive museums in Germany and the first public collection of contemporary art. All of these efforts made Osthaus a main target of Scheffler‘s polemics. In fact, according to

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Scheffler the debate was sparked by a discussion with Osthaus, who had joked that he founded his museum in order to ―annoy Berliners.‖72

This debate constituted one of the most explicit manifestations of the longstanding tensions between the capital and the Rhineland, which had gained new immediacy after the war, and revealed how many criticisms raised by the earlier ―Los von Berlin‖ movement were still pertinent. Criticisms of the Rhenish project tended to fall into several main categories: the artificial nature of its development, its commercial and opportunistic underpinnings, lack of deference to the established artistic centers, and absence of artistic talent. With the exception of the last, a driving dynamic of the debate was that these elements were precisely what proponents of the Rhenish art movement put forth as the central advantages of the Rhineland. These advantages and efforts at self- definition not only created the context in which female artists were educated, promoted and received, but also it is interesting to note that many of the critiques of the

Rhineland—derivative, commercial, insufficient innate talent—were identical to those leveled against the female artists that were joining the ranks of professional artists in ever greater numbers.

Commercialism and the Rhineland. In his essay, Scheffler argued that the project to develop the West as an art center was flawed on many levels. First, Scheffler attacked the perceived motives of the collector. He accused these new patrons of devising a cultural project based primarily on their insecurity about Berlin. Scheffler asserted,

―They were mad at Berlin; but not because they recognized and wanted to avert the dangers of Berlin, rather because they were jealous.‖73 Instead of developing—or

72 Karl Scheffler, ―Das Rheinland und Berlin,‖ Feuer 1, Hft. 1, (Oct. 1919): 48. 73 Ibid., 49.

139 reinventing—a regional cultural center that could serve as a pendant to the capital,

Scheffler believed the ulterior motive was to overtake Berlin outright purely for the sake of competition. He argued: ―What they wanted in Cologne and Düsseldorf, in all the rich cities between Krefeld and Hanover, was not modest independence, but cultural hegemony. They wanted to represent the entire German culture; indeed they would have most liked to introduce a new European culture.‖74

Scheffler was not incorrect in seeing in many of the Rhenish efforts at definition an attempt to establish the Rhineland as the center of ‗true German‘ economy, culture, and tradition. However, by accusing the Rhineland of trying to create a pan-European capital, Scheffler was at least in part attempting to delegitimize the Rhineland‘s

‗Germanness‘ by emphasizing its internationalist sympathies. Additionally, Scheffler viewed the project of Rhenish identity building as harmful, not just as a competitor to

Berlin but as dangerous for the cultural landscape of Germany. His concern was that

German culture was increasingly being driven not by artistic development but by the demands of a political project.

Despite the supposed jealousies of the Rhenish collector, Scheffler did concede the artistic merit of some of these vast collections: ―Anyone who wants to become acquainted with newer French and German art can hardly do without a tour through the museums and private collections of the Rhineland.‖75 This was clearly a reference to collectors such as Osthaus and the Elberfeld bankers August (1851-1929) and Eduard

(1882-1964) von der Heydt, whose private collections became a museum comprising

74 Ibid. 75 Ibid.

140 many works of the French impressionists, twenty paintings by Paula Modersohn Becker, and the first ever Picasso to be purchased by a German museum.

Despite the merits of such collections, they typified for Scheffler the shallow nature of the Rhenish art scene. Scheffler critiqued the ―overnight‖ emergence of a class of wealthy industrialist collectors that had emerged in the region due to the sudden, expansive growth, both in terms of industry and population, which had occurred in the region between 1871 and 1914. Scheffler publicly worried that these newly-minted collectors prized not the art itself, but art as commodity, to competitively fill their private collections and public museums. ―Nowhere else is art treated so materialistically,‖ he lamented.76 Much of Scheffler‘s criticism reflected the very different nature of the collectors in the Rhineland as compared with Berlin. New museums and programmatic exhibitions in Berlin were far more likely to be funded by more traditional sources such as the aristocracy or Prussian government than wealthy industrialists like Osthaus. The emergence of these collectors was also described, albeit less negatively, by Cologne critic

Hermann von Wederkopp, who observed, ―Today there is a chain of pugnacious collectors reaching to deep into Voltaire‘s Westphalia, generally no big-time collectors, not of imperturbable certitude… but of all the more energy.‖77 Drawing a connection between these new energetic collectors of the Rhineland and the champion of

Enlightenment was not unfounded. Voltaire had known Charles Théodore, the Elector-

Palatinate and visited him at his court at Schwetzingen. During one of these visits,

Voltaire is said to have written portions of Candide, which was set in a Westphalian court.

Scheffler, however, went so far as to imply they were becoming less German, suggesting

76 Ibid. 77 H. v. Wedderkop, ―Rheinische Bestrebungen und Gleichgültigkeiten,‖ Kunst und Künstler 18, Hft. 2 (Nov. 1919): 81.

141 that these rapacious industrialist collectors were actively trying to ―imitate on a small scale the American billionaire.‖78

In response to Scheffler‘s criticism that the art scene in the West was overly driven by commerce, Osthaus did concede elements of this characterization. However he defended it as reflecting the particular nature of the region. He retorted, ―Why do you have to judge everything, dear sir, against the standard of Berlin?‖79 Also, Osthaus countered that it was hypocritical of Berlin to criticize the industrialization of the

Rhineland, given the driving role that Prussia‘s dependence on coal had played in the

Rhineland‘s development. Moreover, since the wealth of the Rhineland rested in industry, it should have come as no surprise that the primary collectors were industrialists. Even comparisons to America such as Scheffler‘s were not automatically viewed as derogatory.

Eulenberg himself would later eulogize Düsseldorf in a poem as ―the most American of our cities!‖80 Osthaus did, however, object to Scheffler‘s characterization of the collector as shallow and unwilling to deal directly with the artists themselves. He responded,

―Were you not aware that in the Rhenish lands there is an organization of art lovers that strives exactly for what one in Berlin leaves to the art trade: the promotion of emerging talents?‖81 This not only referred to the broader efforts of the Verband der Kunstfreunde in den Ländern am Rhein, as outlined in Chapter 2, but also the efforts of other avant- garde artist groups like the Rhenish Expressionists, in which a number of industrialists and successful entrepreneurs offered direct support to its artists.82

78 Scheffler, ―Das Rheinland und Berlin,‖ 47. 79 Osthaus, ―Offener Brief an Herrn Karl Scheffler in Berlin,‖ Feuer 1, Hft. 4 (Jan. 1920): 267. 80 Herbert Eulenberg, ―Das neue Düsseldorf,‖ Deutsche Kunst und Dekoration 61 (Oct. 1927- Mar. 1928): 88. 81 Osthaus, ―Offener Brief an Herrn Karl Scheffler in Berlin,‖ 267. 82 Klara Drenker-Nagels, ―Die Rheinischen Expressionisten und ihre Förderer – Ein Überblick,― in Die Moderne im Rheinland, ed. Dieter Breuer (Cologne: Rheinland Verlag, 1994), 367-382.

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Osthaus also had long defended the civic need for art education and promotion, especially in the industrial West, where the lack of art in industrial areas created a greater, not lesser, need. Writing in 1903, he stated:

Nowhere are museums more necessary than in the ever dramatically increasing industrial cities, and yet nowhere are they scarcer. The result is a regression of all idealistic interests, and intellectual loss in these cities…. It is my last goal to bring education to all, that without the contribution of art the most important questions of social life are unsolvable.83

This lack of museums and other cultural resources was not, despite Scheffler‘s claims to the contrary, due to an absence of Rhenish artistic tradition. Osthaus recognized the

Rhineland‘s strong cultural foundations and rich past, ―the remnants of which are nowhere as tenderly preserved as in Cologne or Düsseldorf, which later lost its glorious collection to Munich.‖84 Osthaus argued there was ―completely deliberate degradation of the province by the capital,‖ which exploited its resources but was not willing to contribute money to supporting it culturally.85 He railed:

To Berlin we were the milked cow. One put up with our taxes, fleeced us of our treasures and used up our talents…For Berlin the West was the ―province;‖ one fattened one‘s own institutions, overreached oneself on showy architecture and had neither means, nor spirit, nor taste for the care of culture in the region.86

In many ways, the notion of the Rhineland as a cultural central of Germany continued the classic trope of the Rhine and its fertile soil as Germany‘s essential source of rich natural resources. Therefore, Osthaus was unapologetic about his deliberate program to bring art and artists to the area, for in his eyes the local artists lured to Berlin were yet another exploited resource that deprived the region of its native treasures.

83 Osthaus, ―Der Folkwang in Hagen,‖ (lecture given September 21st, 1903), reproduced in Karl Ernst Osthaus: Reden und Schriften, ed. Rainer Stamm (Cologne: Walter König, 2002), 40. 84 Osthaus, ―Offener Brief an Herrn Karl Scheffler in Berlin,‖ 268. 85 Ibid. 86 Ibid.

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Modernism and the Rhineland. The Rhenish calculated development of its art scene was just part of Scheffler‘s broader problem with the latest artistic movements, namely what he saw as an increasing prioritization of a political agenda. While Scheffler had never been a strong supporter of ―radical‖ art movements, prior to the war he at least saw their utility, especially for the Rhineland. In fact, he had stated in an article from 1906:

In the most densely populated industrial regions of the Rhine, where Germany‘s prosperity grows most visibly, they are acting to benefit their modernity. Architects and decorative artists, who elsewhere are still disreputable due to their revolutionary tendencies, find worthy commissions there; and one art exhibition follows the next.87

After the war, however, Scheffler viewed radical groups as dangerous—partly it should be said as an understandable reaction to the emergence of violent Rhenish separatist movements—and his art criticism was increasingly fueled by these political fears. As art historian Andreas Zeising notes, Scheffler ―fought with polemic means against all efforts of politically left leaning, even revolutionary artists like the Berlin Arbeitsrat für Kunst and the Novembergruppe. On occasion he even characterized the Expressionist painters collectively as ‗leftist radicals.‘‖88 In the Rhineland, for Scheffler the prototypical example of this was the aforementioned Young Rhineland, which had formed in February

1919. Though not overtly radical, this group nevertheless had the leftist political leanings pervasive among modernist artist groups after the war, using, as historian Vernon Lidtke has noted, ―less provocative language that nonetheless identified them with the revolutionary times, progressive tendencies, the younger generation, and newness.‖89 In fact, the Junges Rheinland was explicitly opposed to adopting any defined program.

87 Karl Scheffler, ―Chronik,‖ Kunst und Künstler 5, Hft. 11 (August 1906): 459. 88 Andreas Zeising, Studien zu Karl Schefflers Kunstkritik und Kunstbegriff (Tönning: Der Andere Verlag, 2006), 65. 89 Vernon L. Lidkte, ―Abstract Art and Left-Wing Politics in the Weimar Republic,‖ Central European History 37, no. 1 (2004): 50.

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Their ―Call to Young Rhenish Artists‖ stated that their project did ―not involve a one- sided promotion of any one direction; the only prerequisite should be youthfulness and honesty in creation.… not with regard to age, but the strength and freshness of artistic pursuit.90 The aggressive inclusiveness of the Junges Rheinland (there were 113 artists with eighteen female artists in its first exhibition) insured its lack of a singular artistic style, though many of its members, such as Heinrich Nauen, Walter Ophey and Otto

Pankok, did have a decidedly expressionistic aesthetic.91 In the end, even absent an explicit political position, this openness to any avant-garde exploration was enough to elicit opposition from Scheffler. Scheffler was highly critical of expressionism, to the extent that, according to Andreas Zeising, ―[p]ractically all of his articles were a fight against alleged ‗false prophets‘ of expressionism.‖92 For example, in his 1917 book,

Geist der Gotik, he railed against expressionist artists such as Ludwig Kirchner and Paul

Klee. Scheffler continued this opposition two years later in his very public fight with

Ludwig Justi, director of the Berlin National Gallery, over his collecting of expressionist art. Scheffler often characterized these modernist projects as overly ambitious attempts at self promotion by the provinces, most notably the founding of the Bauhaus school by

Walter Gropius in Weimar.93

Osthaus by contrast was famous for his promotion of modernist art.

90 Adolf Uzarski, Herbert Eulenberg, and Arthur Kaufmann, ―Aufruf an die jungen rheinischen Künstler,‖ 19. 91 Seventeen female artists were listed in the catalogue plus Kathleen Aufseeser, who was not mentioned in the execution of her husband‘s designs. The collaboration between husband and wife was highlighted more strongly in an exhibition the following year at the Flechtheim Gallery. See IV. And V. Ausstellung 1920. Ernst Aufseeser. Walter Corde. Juan Gris. Strömer Walter von Wecus. February 15 to 29 and March 1 to 13, 1920 (Düsseldorf: Galerie Flechtheim, 1920). 92 Zeising, 70. 93 Karl Scheffler, ―Glosse,‖ Kunst und Künstler 17 (1918/19): 383-384.

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Using his collection and frequent exhibitions of impressionist and post-impressionist art as a bridge, Osthaus became the first point of contact to the latest international modernist art in Germany. The Folkwang Museum was the first public museum to feature works by

Cézanne, Matisse, Gauguin and van Gogh. Osthaus also invited a number of international artists to set up a colony in Hagen, where he opened a painting school in under the direction of Christian Rolfs. Other artists soon followed, including sculptor

Milly Steger, the Dutch artist J.L.M Lauweriks, and Moissey Kogan. Osthaus cultivated ties to German expressionists, including an exhibition of Die Brücke artists in 1907 as well as solo exhibitions. His support of modernist impulses was highly appreciated by the new artist generation. As Emil Nolde recalled, ―The Folkwang Museum in Hagen appeared to the young artists and art scholars as a sign from heaven in western

Germany,‖ with Osthaus as ―a champion for a modern outlook on architecture and art, and manifesting this with zeal in his newly founded museum.‖94

“Inorganic” Artistic Development in the Rhineland. One of Scheffler‘s main objections to political and programmatic motives was that it resulted in a cultural and artistic development that was fundamentally ―inorganic‖ (nicht organisch).95 Scheffler believed that the only locus for ―organic‖ development of art was through the traditional channel of the Düsseldorf Academy. Not only was the Academy a supposedly less artificial means of artistic promotion, it also created much deeper and enduring connections to the artists. Scheffler believed a vibrant Academy would ―yield more results than all the millions of purchases, monumental buildings and representative exhibitions, more than

94 Emil Nolde, Jahre der Kämpfe (Berlin: Rembrandt, 1934), 75-76. 95 Scheffler, ―Das Rheinland und Berlin,‖ 47.

146 the entire gaudy enterprise of a garish time.‖96 Unfortunately, Scheffler complained,

Düsseldorf was increasingly dominated by the overblown aspirations of the collectors, museum directors, and other key figures and their incredible haste ―to create a culture by next Thursday.‖97 Scheffler argued that these new collections and artistic movements did not arise out of a natural progression but rather were the result of an artificial and oft- repeated formula: First a local association is founded, which gathers the works of the

―wildest young artists‖ for exhibitions. ―Now it transpires that a journal must also be founded, or there appears even possibly two or three competing journals. In their columns, the city which previously had no noteworthy artistic life, at once appears as a

German cultural focal point.‖98

Not surprisingly, Osthaus also favored an art scene that was naturally tied to its surroundings, albeit not via an association with the Academy as Scheffler would have preferred, but rather through the connections between art and local industry. Osthaus was not alone; for many artists and intellectuals, these connections were not in opposition to but rather intrinsic to the promotion of progressive art. For example, the writer Alfons

Paquets (1881-1944), in the words of literary historian Gertrude Cepl-Kaufmann, advanced a ―model of a ‗Rhine-Ruhr city,‘ a megapolis in which cross-border economic and life patterns should be developed. In this… modern ‗Kulturraum,‘ avant-garde industrial buildings and hypermodern technology should go hand in hand with garden cities.‖99

96 Ibid., 50. 97 Ibid., 48. 98 Karl Scheffler, ―Glosse,‖ 383-384. 99 Gertrude Cepl-Kaufmann, ―Alfons Paquet‘s ‗rheinische‘ Utopie,‖ in ―Ganges Europas, heiliger Strom!”: der literarische Rhein (1900-1933) (Düsseldorf: Droste, 2001), 104-105.

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Feuer was one of the leading proponents of these ideas, serving as the mouthpiece for the Bund der Künste im rheinisch-westfälischen Industriegebiet (Association of the

Arts in the Rhenish-Westphalian Industrial Region), whose stated goals were ―to control the disastrous development of cultural neglect in the industrial region, and to deliberately and unerringly lay the foundation so that this region, where the heartbeat of our German economic life pulses most strongly, no longer remains culturally the stepchild of the

German fatherland.‖100 To this end, Osthaus commissioned Dutch artist Johan Thorn-

Prikker (1868-1932), whom he also invited to Hagen, to design a monumental glass window for the main hall of the Hagen Train Station in 1911, entitled The Artist as

Teacher for Trade and Commerce (figure 41). The window, which combines expressionistic and symbolist stylistic elements, serves as a gateway to the city and immediately asserts the close relationship between the industrial public and the arts.

Central to the window is the figure of the industrial designer, in frontal view, holding his creative implements of compass and drafting paper. He is flanked by eight trade workers of the region with their defining attributes, including a blacksmith with his tongs and female weaver with her cloth. Thorn-Prikker was one of many artists Osthaus brought to

Hagen to contribute to stimulating the local culture with international modernist art.

Promoting close ties between progressive art and the industrial nature of the Rhineland and neighboring Westphalia, ran in direct opposition to Scheffler‘s distaste for the deliberate encouragement of ‗artistic impulses‘ where there none had otherwise existed.

These ties were also an essential element of Osthaus‘ goal to resolve potential contradictions in a region known for its dual character, and to provide the industrial class

100 Friedrich Schöne, lecture in Mitteilungen des Bundes der Künstler im rheinisch-westfälischen Industriegebiet, insert in Feuer 3, Hft. 2-3, (Nov./Dec.1921): 7.

148 with fundamental connections to modern art, since even if some of the art was not native to the region the need for the art was. Osthaus stated,

Naturally Renoir‘s Lise cannot immediately build a bridge to the factory population, but by looking at it a generation can emerge which will transcend the factory spirit and discover the source of life within its own breast. This process is organic, because it has developed out of a deeply felt need, because the soul of he who feels it no longer found satisfaction in that which is material.101

Whether Osthaus was actually successful in engaging an industrial class public is certainly debatable. Osthaus conceded that while the Folkwang ―became a cynosure for all friends of modern art…. [with] the most modern interior and the most modern pictures…. Of the local effects, however, we would like to remain silent, because we are resolute to lend our pens to the intellectual evolution, not however the pathology of provincial taste.‖102 Regardless, Osthaus was clearly successful at being at the forefront of a generation of art supporters and engaged museum directors, such as Alfred

Lichtwark in Berlin, which, according to art historian Birgit Schulte, ―created within the context of the conservative Wilhelmine era an intellectual climate that was essential for the establishment of the modern.‖103

Artistic Talent and the Rhineland. Of all of Scheffler‘s critiques of the Rhineland, perhaps the most damning, and least substantiated, was his assertion that outside of the

Academy the Rhineland lacked the artistic talent to be a significant cultural center. He considered any efforts at building up the art scene to be fundamentally misguided, given that its local artists lacked the necessary skills. Using the example of Düsseldorf,

Scheffler charged that artists of mediocre talent got caught up in the feverish promotion

101 Karl Ernst Osthaus, ―Offener Brief an Herrn Karl Scheffler in Berlin,‖ 269. 102 Karl Ernst Osthaus, Van de Velde (Hagen: Folkwang, 1920), 27. 103 Birgit Schulte, ―‗Die Moderne siegt in Hagen,‘ Karl Ernst Osthaus als Förderer der Avantgarde in der Provinz,‖ Avantgarden in Westfalen? Die Moderne in der Provinz 1902-1933 (Münster: Ardey-Verlag, 1999), 36.

149 of the region, leading to disastrous results. He wrote of their inflated self-confidence,

―The ambition of their surroundings caused them to feel like cultural innovators, as

German heralds of culture par excellence.‖104 Attempting to situate local artists within a broader international dialogue by featuring them in exhibitions alongside artists like

Cézanne and Van Gogh was not the same, Scheffler argued, as producing world class art.

―Achievements cannot be replaced by exhibitions, through ambitious events,‖ he cautioned.105

Düsseldorf‘s mediocre talent was compounded, Scheffler argued, by its lack of artistic ―foundations.‖ First and foremost, he believed that the Rhineland was not a legitimate cultural center such as Paris or Berlin. Scheffler noted that Berlin, unlike the

Rhineland, had active and ongoing debates about art, reminding his readers that it was

Berlin that had long been the ―point of entry for French art‖ in Germany.106 By contrast, he considered any efforts at artistic debate in the Rhineland as futile attempts by a cultural and intellectual elite to engage the Rhineland‘s unwilling and disinterested populace. He paid Osthaus the backhanded compliment for establishing his Folkwang

Museum in Hagen, ―all alone and against the opposition of the majority.‖107 Scheffler even dismissed large-scale exhibitions like the Sonderbund, which had drawn large crowds, as essentially hollow. He believed that attending exhibitions of famous international figures when there were no local artists of comparable talent was not real artistic engagement with lasting effects, but rather tourism.

104 Scheffler, ―Das Rheinland und Berlin,‖ 48. 105 Ibid., 50. 106 Ibid., 49. 107 Ibid., 50.

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Ironically, many of these criticisms that Scheffler leveled at Düsseldorf and the

Rhineland as a whole were similar to comments he had made about Berlin nine years earlier. In his book, Berlin: A City‟s Destiny, Scheffler described the capital as artificial, inorganic, and a ―colonial city.‖ At the time, Scheffler described Berlin as a city that had no historical tradition of its own, but was rather a compilation of many outside influences.

Scheffler saw most major other European cities as ―almost always true capitals and centers of a country… rich, beautiful cities, harmoniously formed organisms of history; the rest [like Berlin] are usually on the other hand cities that were always in part forced to develop artificially under myriad difficulties and adapt to trying circumstances.‖108

Somewhat surprisingly given his later criticisms, Scheffler viewed this as potentially advantageous. The lack of a uniform historical tradition could actually serve to advance artistic progress, since the diversity of artistic impulses sparked the genuine dialogue and debate necessary for an artistic center. Berlin was neither tied into one tradition nor beholden to the artistic or political project of a specific patron, which allowed it serve as a figurative and literal marketplace for a diversity of European art. By extension,

Scheffler initially perceived the American model as useful to Europe and praised Berlin‘s ability to serve as a bridge that could ―preserve the old cultural consciousness of Europe and still also have the sense of realism of America.‖109

By 1919, in the case of the Rhineland, however, Scheffler saw connections such as these to America and commercialism as detrimental. First and foremost, Scheffler‘s broader politics and worldview had transformed in the economic and social upheaval of the postwar period, and his criticism of the Rhineland was a clear reflection of this. The

108 Scheffler, Berlin: Ein Stadtschicksal (Berlin-Westend: Erich Reiss, 1910), 6. 109 Ibid, 260-61.

151 political situation in Germany, particularly of the Treaty of Versailles, made much of

Germany hostile to the interference of foreign influences, and Scheffler‘s opposition largely reflected his increasing political conservatism.

Scheffler was concerned that the industrialized Rhineland was particularly vulnerable to being ‗colonized‘ by the Western powers. Scheffler publicly worried that the Rhineland could become a willing victim in the pursuit of ―pseudo cosmopolitanism

[as] a substitute for the destroyed sense of Heimat and fatherland.‖110 Paradoxically,

Scheffler recommended the way to avoid becoming a colony was to intentionally become a ―province‖—but without becoming provincial. Scheffler advocated that the Rhineland should follow the model of more modest art centers such as Holland and Denmark, rather than trying to compete with cities like Berlin and Paris. This was not entirely the result of Scheffler‘s patronizing attitudes toward the Rhineland, but at least in part reflective of his broader somewhat pessimistic vision for the future of art in Germany. Given his rejection of abstract art, Scheffler predicted the end of the German fine arts scene that had flourished since the 19th century, and so began to advocate a more modest movement from within the decorative arts. Scheffler viewed handicraft as both tied to a broader moral regeneration of society and as the only way to prevent against ―industrial slavery, which threatens us from America and England.‖111 To this end, he viewed the reforms currently being undertaken in the Academy to integrate the city‘s Decorative Arts School as helping to create a ―modern exemplary institution.‖112

110 Karl Scheffler, ―Das Rheinland und Berlin: Letzte Rede und Gegenrede,‖ Feuer 1, Hft. 6 (March 1920): 419. 111 Karl Scheffler, ―Die Zukunft der deutschen Kunst: Ein Vortrag,‖ Kunst und Künstler 17, Hft 8 (1919): 328. 112 Ibid.

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Osthaus and the decorative arts. Both Scheffler and Osthaus saw potential for the decorative arts in the West. However, while Scheffler presented the medium as an alternative to the corrupted and overly programmatic nature of high art in the region— compounded by his generally pessimistic view of the direction of fine art, Osthaus sought not a replacement for high art but as a harmonious integration of the two. Osthaus promoted designers and producers of the decorative arts along with the ―high art‖ of the international modernists. This could be seen in his museum, whose exhibitions, according to Osthaus, aimed ―to develop public taste, in which from time to time selected objects of the decorative arts are shown alongside works of high art.‖113 For example, in an exhibition of January 1910, along with works by Westphalian painters including Ida

Gerhardi, Bertha von Seld, and Christian Rohlfs, were shown hand book bindings from

Wildeman, endpaper by Lily Behrens, as well as Japanese ceramics and theater masks.

This project was clearly tied to the 19th century reform ideals set out by Gottfried

Semper, continuing through to the Deutscher Werkbund, of which Osthaus became a member in 1908. In 1909, along with the German Werkbund, Osthaus founded and housed in the Folkwang the Deutsches Museum für Handel und Gewerbe, which had the aim of presenting traveling exhibitions of the latest in the decorative arts. To this end,

Osthaus organized lectures on various aspects of the fine and decorative arts as well as

Körperkultur and social reform, which were held in the museum. Engagement of the public and the strengthening of the artistic center were the main rationales behind requiring sponsored artists to not only visit but reside in the area: ―This had the advantage of continually being able to follow the development of a talent, further see the motifs of one‘s own Heimat in artistic realization, and to offer craftspeople the opportunity to get

113 Osthaus to Wildeman, 25 January 1910, Karl-Ernst-Osthaus-Archive, F1/ 806/ 9.

153 artistic advice firsthand.‖ 114 Osthaus was able to capitalize on the increased prominence following Behrens‘ tenure at the Düsseldorf Decorative Arts School to bring the

Deutsches Museum to the region. This museum not only had local significance, but through its traveling exhibitions was able to grant national exposure to local artists.

Another major difference between Scheffler and Osthaus on the decorative arts was their attitude concerning the role of female artists. While Scheffler, as discussed in

Chapter Two, believed that women lacked the artistic talent to create original art, Osthaus viewed female artists as an integral part of the production, promotion, and education in the decorative arts. Perhaps most notable was his promotion of two Düsseldorf artists,

Anneliese Wildemann and Gertrud Engau. Both artists were featured in the first large scale exhibition at the Folkwang of local decorative arts production in December 1909 and reveal how the work of these female artists was integral to Osthaus‘ broader aims for his museum and the region. This ―Christmas Exhibition‖ featured artists from the

Düsseldorf Vereinigung Ring, an organization made up of current and former students of the Decorative Arts School, which included paintings, prints, batiks, needlework, basketwork and woodwork. These works were shown alongside exhibitions of other decorative artists, such as Austrian siblings Rosa and Karl Waibel and the Hagen painter and batik artist Auguste Voswinckel (who lived as part of Osthaus‘ artist colony).

The efforts of Osthaus helped transform the decorative arts into a financially viable profession for women. The support and contacts offered through Osthaus and his

Folkwang Museum made the province an attractive location for decorative artists. Sales at the exhibitions of both the Folkwang and through the traveling exhibitions of the

114 Karl Ernst Osthaus, ―Der Folkwang in Hagen,‖ (lecture given September 21st, 1903), reproduced in Karl Ernst Osthaus: Reden und Schriften, ed. Rainer Stamm (Cologne: Walter König, 2002), 42.

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Deutsches Museum für Kunst in Handel offered a good source of income for these artists.

Engau sold a number of shawls (fig. 42) and wooden necklaces through the museum, including several shawls to Frau Osthaus. Also, at the 1910 Christmas exhibition, for example, Düsseldorf Decorative Arts School student Marie Eichweide sold a large cover with grey linen with red stripes and cross stitching for 55 Marks.115 Osthaus was careful, however, not to create permanent competition for local retailers, hoping instead that these exhibitions would persuade them to sell these works. In a letter Osthaus encouraged

Wildeman, ―I am convinced that your excellent works will find a wide market…. The apparent success that this exhibition had should have convinced local specialty shops that there already exists a larger clientele for such things.‖116

These contacts with Osthaus and his circle and the success of the Christmas exhibition led to other opportunities for artistic advancement and recognition. Wildeman, who exhibited two hand-embroidered covers and a pillow and one batiked cover at the

Christmas exhibition, drew the attention of the Folkwang, who then invited her to exhibit her ―excellent‖ work at the Städisches Kunstmuseum in Essen.117 Wildeman also exhibited at the 1910 Christmas exhibition, following which Deutsches Museum purchased some of her works for their collection.118 The traveling exhibitions of the

Deutsches Museum offered wider exposure to their work, both in the region and even abroad. Wildeman for example sent an embroidered stole and ciborium veil to the

International Exhibition of Christian Art in Brussels.119 Gertrud Engau, who had first

115 Letter to Marie Eichweide, 19 January 1910, Karl-Ernst-Osthaus-Archive, F1/ 417/ 3. 116 Osthaus to Wildeman, 25 January 1910, Karl-Ernst-Osthaus-Archive, F1/ 806/ 9. 117 Letter to Wildeman, 16 September 1909, Karl-Ernst-Osthaus-Archive, F1/ 806/ 3. The exhibition Women‟s Jewelry, organized by the Deutsches Museum, was shown from 24.11.1909-2.1.1910. 118 Correspondence between Grave and Wildeman, Karl-Ernst-Osthaus-Archive, T 58/ 1-5. 119 Correspondence with Wildeman, Karl-Ernst-Osthaus-Archive, Br 28.

155 exhibited her batik work at a group exhibition at the Folkwang in June 1909, wrote two months later to August Kuth, Osthaus‘ assistant, thanking him as she suspected that they put her name forward for an invitation to join the Werkbund. Osthaus also assisted with professional connections as well. Female artists were also frequently included in

Osthaus‘ aims to further artistic education. Gertrud Engau was invited to Hagen to teach batik at a planned private school run by Hagen artists.120 Ultimately, however, this project did not come to fruition. It was a testament to Osthaus‘ successful promotion of both the region and of female artists that three former Düsseldorf students—Wildeman,

Engau, and Gertrud Eckermann—all expressed interest remaining in the region.

As the debate in Feuer revealed, the tensions between the traditional and the modern, the international and the German, and ―high art‖ and the decorative continued to play a significant role following the war in the definition of the Rhineland. It is not, however, just the promotion of decorative art which created opportunities for female artists, but also the negotiation with international and in particular French art, as well as challenges of progressive vs. traditional art, that created new, albeit sometimes problematic avenues of participation for women. This was especially significant in

Alfred Flechtheim‘s exhibitions Frauen in 1919, as will be discussed in the next chapter.

120 Letter to Engau, 12 February 1910, Karl-Ernst-Osthaus-Archive, F1/ 421/ 23.

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Chapter 4

The Frauen Exhibitions at the Flechtheim Gallery in Düsseldorf and the Negotiation of International Modernism

With the dissolution of the Sonderbund in 1915 and the waning influence of the

Düsseldorf Academy, the advancement of Rhenish cultural identity was increasingly taken up by independent promoters, most notably the gallerist Alfred

Flechtheim. Through private promotion, Rhenish characteristics, and the broader issues such as those raised in the Feuer debate, were mapped onto individual artists. Artists such as Heinrich Nauen were held up by promoters as representing an combination of

Rhenish historical tradition and openness to the international influence of the Rhineland‘s

French and Dutch neighbors. Female artists, such as Marie Laurencin and Paula

Modersohn, became the perfect representatives of precisely this combination: their femininity made them ideal and non-threatening ambassadors of French art, while at the same time they were firmly grounded in Rhenish traditions of spirituality and tradition. The decorative arts in particular offered rich opportunities for the promotion of both Rhenish cultural identity and local female artists. Although clearly resulting from notions of ―acceptable‖ media for female artists, the decorative arts created not only professional and artistic opportunities for women, but also provided the Rhenish audience with a new window into avant-garde and expressionist art.

Alfred Flechtheim and Rhenish Identity

A major force in promoting and defining the Rhenish cultural scene was the art dealer and publisher Alfred Flechtheim. Born on April 1st, 1878 in Münster to a prominent Jewish family, Flechtheim became a force within the Düsseldorf art world and

157 the entire region. A dedicated promoter of French art, Flechtheim played a critical role in introducing the French avant-garde to German art buyers and to a discerning public through his own gallery exhibitions and sales to German museums. Key to Flechtheim‘s efforts to reignite the art scene in western Germany was his support of both French and local Rhenish artists, which he viewed not as mutually exclusive but as integral to elevating Düsseldorf as an art city. Finally, Flechtheim‘s continual promotion of a number of French and German women artists in his gallery exhibitions and publications demonstrates most profoundly the role they played within this broader Rhenish project.

Despite Flechtheim‘s initial attempts to follow his father into business as a grain trader, his interest in avant-garde art soon drew him instead to a career as an art dealer.

Early on, Flechtheim cultivated his talent for connoisseurship by building his own art collection. The artist George Grosz, whom Flechtheim represented in his gallery, recalled that on Flechtheim‘s 1910 honeymoon in Paris, he spent his wife‘s entire dowry purchasing modern French art.1 His collection rapidly expanded to include both Rhenish and French art. Flechtheim later recalled that ―at that time the grain office of my father was already full of pictures of young Düsseldorf artists, [as well as] of Derain, Vlaminck,

Picasso, Braque, Levy and Marie Laurencin.‖2 The Düsseldorf artists included Max

Clarenbach, Heinrich Campendonk, August Deusser, Wilhelm Lehmbruck, August

Macke and Heinrich Nauen. Flechtheim‘s business dealings also afforded him frequent trips to Paris, where he interacted with the circle of German expatriate artists and intellectuals who met at the Café du Dôme, as well as with cubist artists including

1 Monika Flacke-Knoch and Stefan von Wiese, ―Der Lebensfilm von Alfred Flechtheim,‖ in Alfred Flechtheim: Sammler. Kunsthändler. Verleger. (Düsseldorf: Kunstmuseum Düsseldorf, 1987), 154. 2 Alfred Flechtheim, ―Zehn Jahre Kunsthändler,‖ Der Querschnitt 2-3 (1922-1923): 152.

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Picasso, Georges Braque, and Marie Laurencin. Laurencin, as will be discussed below, would become a centerpiece of Flechtheim‘s international gallery program.

Flechtheim became actively engaged in the Rhenish art scene, loaning works of the Düsseldorf School and French artists to large Düsseldorf exhibitions, including the

Exhibition of Art from Düsseldorf Private Collections in 1906 and the Exhibition of

Christian Art in 1909.3 Flechtheim‘s activities were not limited to the local art scene: in

1911, together with Wilhelm Uhde, Henry Kahnweiler, and Vincenz Kramár, he organized the first exhibition of Picasso at Thannhauser in Munich.4 Most significantly, however, was his organizing role in the 1912 Sonderbund exhibition, which offered the first extensive introduction to international modernist art in Germany. In spite the extensive organizing role of other members, such as Osthaus and Ehmcke, as described in the previous chapter, Flechtheim viewed the exhibition as a personal triumph: ―I recaptured good art for the West. The Sonderbund is my creation,‖ he wrote in his diary in 1913.5 As a result of infighting, however, Flechtheim withdrew from the Sonderbund after the 1912 exhibition, and the group officially ceased to exist in 1915.

The Sonderbund‘s dissolution created a void within the progressive Rhenish art world that Flechtheim was well positioned to fill. In December 1913, Flechtheim opened his own gallery in Düsseldorf in Alleestr. 7, situated between the Academy and the

Kunsthalle. In opening his gallery, Flechtheim aimed both to bring avant-garde art to the

Rhenish public and shape what was widely viewed as a cultural rebirth of Düsseldorf. In the first exhibition catalogue, Kurt Kamlah heralded the gradual rejuvenation of the city

3 The loaned pieces included works by Gregor von Bochmann, Gerhard Janssen, and Wilhelm Schmurr. 4 Flechtheim, 153. 5 Alfred Flechtheim, ―Alfred Flechtheim: Tagebuchblätter 1913,‖ reproduced in Neue Deutsche Hefte 19, Hft. 3 (1972): 46.

159 and framed Düsseldorf as building upon its industrial successes to expand to the cultural sphere. He noted, ―Here wafts a hint of world traffic; also in Düsseldorf, the Rhine has become a great artery; the city has embraced the German river and will not let it go….

[A]s civilization gradually translates into culture, the art of the Lower Rhine will perhaps play a role again within Germany.‖6

Flechtheim‘s first exhibition, Contributions to Art of the 19th Century and Our

Time, was carefully designed to appeal to both factions of the Düsseldorf artist community. Flechtheim appealed to traditionalist sentiments by presenting his collection of prominent nineteenth century artists of the Düsseldorf School like Andreas and

Oswald Achenbach, Wilhelm von Schadow, along with Arnold Böcklin, Wilhelm Leibl, and the French Impressionists and Postimpressionists. As noted by art historian

Magdalena Moeller, the exhibition largely followed the trajectory of Julius Meier-

Graefe‘s popular Entwickelungsgeschichte der modernen Kunst, published in 1904.7

Flechtheim‘s exhibition, however, was also more wide-ranging and eclectic than the

Meier-Graefe canon, attempting to introduce a reluctant public to contemporary local and international art. The ―Art of our Time‖ section of the exhibition featured nearly seventy artists, including Matisse, Picasso, Marc, Macke, and Nauen. The catalogue, edited by

Paul Mahlberg, was similarly wide-ranging, comprising articles on topics such as

Rhenish art and collecting, as well as short excerpts on individual artists. Flechtheim would later relish his introduction of a number of artists to Düsseldorf, referring to its cultural moniker when he wrote, ―I showed the ‗art and garden city on the Rhine‘ French

6 Kurt Kamlah, ―Genesis,‖ in Beiträge zur Kunst des 19. Jahrhunderts und unserer Zeit, ed. Paul Mahlberg (Düsseldorf: Galerie Alfred Flechtheim, 1913), 14. 7 Magdalena Moeller, ―Alfred Flechtheim und die Vermittlung französischer Kunst vor 1914,‖ in Alfred Flechtheim, 41.

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Impressionists and the customs officer Rousseau, Odilon Redon and Munch and young

Rheinländer and French and the Dômiers for the first time.‖8 Flechtheim was able to assuage the concerns of the conservative art buying public by surrounding the new works of young local artists with the more established Düsseldorf artists. As part of this local canon, Flechtheim included in this exhibition the artist Ernst Te Peerdt (1852-1932; fig.

43), whom Flechtheim called a ―Düsseldorf Liebermann‖ and was widely regarded as the first Düsseldorf artist to evince an Impressionistic style.9 Te Peerdt‘s art was enjoying a critical resurgence but was rarely on public view. This was typical of the Düsseldorf

Städtische Galerie in Düsseldorf, which had never systematically collected local artists, making Flechtheim‘s exhibition the first complete presentation of Düsseldorf art from past to present. Flechtheim shifted in subsequent exhibitions even further away from an

Impressionist focus towards the newest artistic impulses. It was not only the impressive scope that was striking, but also the rapid pace of changing exhibitions, which caused one critic to note, ―At the Flechtheim Gallery the exhibitions change so quickly that the reporting has trouble following it.‖10 Having such a large number of exhibitions allowed

Flechtheim to focus attention on a series of individual artists, such as Heinrich Nauen,

Christian Rohlfs, and Odilon Redon, whether presented in solo or small group shows.

Generally, the critical response to the new gallery was very favorable, both regarding the art exhibited and Flechtheim‘s endeavor as a whole. Many critics greeted this new private gallery as filling a much needed void within the city‘s art scene. One

Düsseldorfer critic lamented that ―nothing, absolutely nothing has changed‖ in the past fifteen years with regard to the local cultural landscape and so praised the new gallery as

8 Alfred Flechtheim, ―Zehn Jahre Kunsthändler,― 153. 9 Ibid. 10 ―Bildende Kunst in Düsseldorf,‖ Kölnische Zeitung, October 13, 1919.

161 a ―highly estimable and long sought after addition to the Düsseldorf art scene.‖11 With regard to the inaugural exhibition, critics praised Flechtheim‘s ―duty of piety‖ in paying homage to the German artistic past, in particular his emphasis on Düsseldorf artists.12

Critics appreciated the attention to the Düsseldorf School, which ―was often perceived arrogantly, namely by Berlin.‖13 Critics also praised this new venue for its range of artistic styles, stating that there had been ―no private exhibition with such a scope and such interesting variety‖ in Düsseldorf.14 This new inclusiveness was welcomed in the hopes that it would bring new life to the stodgy local art scene, long dominated by venues such as the prominent Galerie Schulte, which had long specialized in nineteenth century artists of the Düsseldorf Academy. Although supportive of its presence, reviewers were in fact often critical of the latest art, accusing Picasso of ―drunken geometry‖ 15 and

―unintentional incompetence‖ and Matisse of causing ―calamity‖ in his rendering of heads.16 However, implicit in many of these critiques was simply the attempt to prepare the Düsseldorf public for the ―bizarrely gesticulating and even wild Expressionists and

Cubists of most recent observance!‖17 Flechtheim further encouraged this public debate by publishing reviews critical of the gallery. Critics welcomed giving the public an

―opportunity to agonize over [it] with their own eyes and minds,‖ instead of merely

11 ―Die Galerie Flechtheim,‖ Düsseldorfer General-Anzeiger, December 21, 1913, reproduced in Urteile der westdeutschen Presse - zugleich Einladung zum Abonnement (Düsseldorf: Bagel, 1914), n.p. 12 ―Die Galerie Flechtheim,‖ Düsseldorfer General-Anzeiger, December 21, 1913, reproduced in Urteile der westdeutschen Presse, n.p. 13 ―Bildende Kunst in Düsseldorf,‖ Kölnische Zeitung, December 22,1913, reproduced in Urteile der westdeutschen Presse, n.p. 14 ―Die Galerie Flechtheim,‖ Düsseldorfer General-Anzeiger, December 21, 1913, reproduced in Urteile der westdeutschen Presse, n.p. 15 ―Eine neue moderne Galerie in Düsseldorf,‖ Hannoverscher Courier, December 24, 1913, reproduced in Urteile der westdeutschen Presse, n.p. 16 ―Bildende Kunst in Düsseldorf,‖ Kölnische Zeitung, December 22, 1913, reproduced in Urteile der westdeutschen Presse, n.p. 17 ―Die Galerie Flechtheim,‖ Düsseldorfer General-Anzeiger, December 21, 1913, reproduced in Urteile der westdeutschen Presse, n.p.

162 criticizing it in the abstract.18 They viewed conflict as necessary for the vitality of an artistic center, arguing, ―Tradition is the core of art; struggle and ambition the lifeblood.

The Flechtheim Gallery can therefore feel called to bring lifeblood to Düsseldorf art.‖19

Alfred Flechtheim and the Promotion of Heinrich Nauen

Flechtheim‘s promotion of Rhenish artistic identity was perhaps the most clearly defined in his support of fellow Sonderbund member Heinrich Nauen (1880-1940).

Nauen‘s art and biography had the essential elements that made him ideal for

Flechtheim‘s concept of Rhenish artistic identity: his kinship with Van Gogh, his active engagement with France, and his alienation from Berlin, all of which were grounded in

Rhenish tradition. Flechtheim had collected ten of his artworks by 1913, and the following year for his second gallery exhibition he organized the first retrospective of the artist‘s work, which featured over a hundred of Nauen‘s works.20

One of the most important elements of Nauen‘s work and reception was his stylistic debt to Van Gogh. While living in Berlin (1905-1911) and exhibiting with the

Berlin Secession, Nauen was in fact heavily criticized for his dependence on the Dutch artist. However, upon his return to the Rhineland, this influence was cast in positive terms. As Flechtheim wrote of Nauen‘s painting Die Ernte (The Harvest, 1909-1910, fig.

44), ―Grünewald is found in the picture, but most of all Lower Rhine Dutch…. The influence of Van Gogh is by no other painter more natural than by Nauen, because he and

18 ―Kunstchronik,‖ Düsseldorfer Tageblatt, December 22, 1913, reproduced in Urteile der westdeutschen Presse, n.p. 19 Karl Meitner, Düsseldorfer Lokalzeitung, December 21, 1913, reproduced in Urteile der westdeutschen Presse, n.p. 20 Magdalena Moeller, ―Der Sonderbund,‖ in Der westdeutsche Impuls 1900-1914: Kunst und Umweltgestaltung im Industriegebiet – Düsseldorf ed. Wolfgang Schepers and Stephan van der Wiese (Düsseldorf: Kunstmuseum Düsseldorf, 1984), 163.

163 van Gogh are countrymen.‖21 To be sure, The Harvest is similar in its both high-keyed palette and subject matter to Van Gogh‘s Harvest painting from 1889. Nauen had undoubtedly seen Van Gogh‘s Harvest, which Karl Ernst Osthaus purchased in 1902 and exhibited in his Folkwang Museum, where Nauen had his first solo exhibition in 1907.

In terms of both content and execution, there are strong similarities between Nauen‘s wide-format landscapes of expansive fields and harvest motifs and those of Van Gogh.

These connections to Van Gogh not only served to establish his artistic lineage, but also to advance and ground them in a broader ‗Rhenish-Dutch‘ culture.22 As art historian Max Creutz wrote,

Heinrich Nauen develops out of the age-old painterly culture of the Lower Rhine. Flanders, Bruges, and the Netherlands, [and] the painting of the old Cologne peoples always had a melting of color. Rubens and Rembrandt cultivated its tender interweaving. That is no accident, because only from the North, out of the dark grey of the sky, can the longing for light and color be explained.23

Such arguments were a product of well-established notions within German theory regarding national character, as advanced in the eighteenth century by Johann Gottfried

Herder. Herder examined the concept of the immutable ties of a nation‘s geography and climate to its language, history, and culture, reflecting Montesquieu‘s earlier ideas about the sociological influences of climate. In his The Spirit of the Laws Montesquieu had argued that ―[T]he character of the spirit and the passions of the heart are extremely

21 Alfred Flechtheim, ―Mein Freund Nauen (1919),‖ reproduced in Heinrich Nauen: Krefeld 1880 – Kalkar 1940, ed. Gerhard Kaldewei (Kleve: Boss-Verlag, 1990), 21. The Harvest (1909/10), now missing, exists only in photographic form. A similar painting, also entitled Harvest (1909) is part of the collection of the Kunstmuseum Bonn. See Klara Drenker-Nagels, Heinrich Nauen: Monographie und Werkverzeichnis (Cologne: Wienand Verlag, 1996), 41-42 and 246-247. 22 That Nauen had lived in the Flemish artist colony in Sin-Martens-Latem (1902/05) and later spent summers painting in Visé, a small village on the Dutch/ Belgian border, from 1905-1911, only served to strengthen this artistic lineage and westward orientation. 23 Max Creutz, ―Heinrich Nauen (1926),‖ reproduced in Heinrich Nauen: Krefeld 1880 – Kalkar 1940, 49. The dangers implicit in such ethnic and territorial chauvinism would soon be made apparent in the years leading up to World War II. For a detailed discussion of the ―annexation‖ of Van Gogh, see Ron Manheim, ―The ‗Germanic‘ van Gogh: A Case Study of Cultural Annexation,‖ Simiolus: Netherlands Quarterly for the History of Art 19, no. 4 (1989): 277-288.

164 different in the various climates.‖24 For Herder, the influence of climate was filtered through language: ―Climate, water and air, food and drink, they all affect language….

[L]anguage is indeed a magnificent treasure store, a collection of thoughts and activities of the mind of the most diverse nature.‖25 It was the grey of its skies and landscape that was seen as resulting, at least in part, in the uniquely German sense of longing and soulfulness (Beseelung). This longing was intrinsic to the notion of the German character, providing the deeper emotion that created the champion poets, musicians, and philosophers of Goethe, Beethoven, and Hegel. For Creutz, the gift of Nauen, and by extension, the Rhineland, was the ability to merge the emotive soul of the German character with the artistic styles of the French and Dutch.

In this way, the assertion of a regional Lower Rhine-Dutch identity was seen as vital to the negotiation of French influence. In fact, Flechtheim and other Rhenish reviewers frequently noted the importance of French art for Rhenish artists such as Nauen.

Flechtheim saw Nauen‘s work serving as the perfect bridge between Germany and France:

In Nauen rests the French tradition, in him the painterly culture of the west adjoins with German ―Expressionism‖…. Nauen forms the bridge from France to Germany. The new art will be built upon the lands of the Lower Rhine. And the Lower Rhine will be the heir to Paris.26

It is debatable whether Flechtheim actually believed that the Rhineland would succeed

France as the cultural capital of Europe. It is more likely that in these years immediately following World War One, asserting that the Rhineland would become the new Paris was the most palatable way to justify the continued importance of French influence for

24 Montesquieu, Spirit of the Laws, 14.1, trans. and ed. Anne M. Cohler, Basia Carolyn Miller, and Harold Samuel Stone (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1989), 231. 25 Johann Gottfried Herder, quoted in F. M. Barnard, Herder‟s Social and Political Thought: From Enlightenment to Nationalism (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1965), 57. 26 Flechtheim, ―Mein Freund Nauen,‖ 24.

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Rhenish cultural identity. This was especially important for artists such as Nauen, who had exhibited numerous times in Paris, including showing The Harvest at the 1910 Salon des Indépendants, where it even garnered a letter of praise from Matisse.

Of Nauen‘s work, it is perhaps his monumental Drove Cycle, a series of six paintings completed in 1913, which most clearly evince his connection with French art, in particular his indebtedness to Matisse. Commissioned by the art historian Edwin

Suermondt for his family residence of Drove Castle in the Eifel Region of Germany, the subject matter was disparate, including Bathers, a highly ornamental Interior, another

Harvest, and a dense Garden (fig. 45) scene depicting a mother and child amidst lush blossoms. These paintings clearly embrace the Fauvist palette, and in particular these dense figural works adopted Matisse‘s thick black contouring of figures, cool blues, and patterned reds in Nauen‘s rendering of similar motifs. In their execution, Nauen‘s paintings also evoke Cezanne‘s use of modulated color to construct three-dimensional space. These rhythmic and dissonant effects were also seen as characteristic of Rhenish

Expressionism.

The foreign influences in Nauen‘s work were a frequent criticism in the overwhelmingly negative reviews he received while in Berlin. Upon his return to the

Rhineland in 1911, however, his poor reception in the capital was recast by local promoters not as reflecting negatively on Nauen but rather as evidence of the lack of respect and understanding in Berlin for Rhenish talent. As Flechtheim argued:

Those in Berlin neither see nor understand how a painter from the Lower Rhine attempts to grapple with the French tradition and slowly but surely liberates himself. How should the Berliner understand the west German anyway? They do not know the west at all. The Rhenish, bearer of the age-old tradition, appears to them, who are without tradition, ‗provincial.‘27

27 Ibid., 22.

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In the eyes of Flechtheim, for Rhenish artists negotiating French style without being subsumed by it was challenging but, as will be discussed below, vital to the development of Rhenish art. This helps understand, at least in part, the importance of asserting an intrinsic ―blood and soil‖ identity as well as a sense of ―age-old tradition,‖ for it meant that no matter how much Rhenish artists ―grappled‖ with French influence, they would always be fundamentally Rhenish. Interestingly, in this recasting by Flechtheim the true outsider for the Rhineland becomes not Paris, but Berlin.

Upon his return to the Rhineland and alienation from Berlin, Nauen‘s work, and

Flechtheim‘s promotion thereof, emphasized the elements essential to Rhenish aesthetic identity: a close connection to the landscape, a sense of tradition and spirituality, and ties to industry. Perhaps Flechtheim‘s most explicit enumeration of these three elements came in his reprinting of a 1913 letter by Walter Cohen, a Bonn art historian and friend of the artist, in his catalogue for the Nauen retrospective, in which Cohen described the

Lower Rhine as Nauen‘s ―guardian spirit.‖28 With respect to the landscape itself, in 1927 from his home at Dilborn Castle in Brüggen near the Dutch border, Nauen wrote,

Here again in Dilborn the fall is very beautiful; I am walking familiar paths and am completely possessed by this beauty. I am simply an earth-bound person, to whom the landscape is everything; there is a spirit and soul. I can often do without people, but I cannot imagine my way beyond a landscape.29

This close connection to the landscape and nature solidified the ties of works such as the

Harvest (fig. 44) to the Rhineland. These ties garnered positive reception from local critics and prompted Alfred Hagelstange, the director of the Wallraf-Richartz Museum in

28 Walter Cohen, ―Ein Brief an Nauen als Einleitung,‖ in Heinrich Nauen. Erste Kollektiv-Ausstellung in der Galerie Alfred Flechtheim vom 18. Januar bis 7. Februar 1914 (Düsseldorf: Bagel, 1914), 5. 29 Heinrich Nauen, quoted in Eberhard Marz, ―Heinrich Nauen (1880-1940),‖ Rheinische Lebensbilder 4 (Düsseldorf, Rheinland-Verlag, 1970), 235.

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Cologne, to attempt to purchase the painting. Flechtheim later recalled, ―Hagelstange loved ‗The Harvest.‘ It was his dream to acquire this painting, which like no other depicts the Heimat, the Lower Rhine, for his gallery and to hang it next to the old

Cologne Masters.‖30 The landscape not only gave artists a subject matter that was obviously Rhenish, but it also contributed to the notion a ‗Rhenish palette.‘ For example, in Nauen‘s Harvest, Cohen saw a concentration of ―the sunny glow of embers from the golden corn of our fields, from the summer blue of our sky and the twinges of green from grass and leaves…. [and] almost soulful relationship to surroundings.‖31

By connecting spirituality and nature in Nauen‘s work, Cohen emphasized those elements of Rhenish identity that were clearly meant to distinguish it from cosmopolitan

Berlin. This spirituality reflected in the landscape was further deepened by ties to the

Rhenish medieval past. Cohen wrote of Nauen‘s art, ―I see your painting entirely in union with the old folkloric art along the course of the Lower Rhine. The knotted-bizarre wooden altars in the churches of Calcar and Xanten greet the late-born and the pious gilded pictures of the old Dutch and Cologne masters.‖32 Nauen‘s works had indeed had resonance with late gothic art, both in their subject matter and their style. For example, in the Pietà of the Drove Cycle, the elongated, contorted figures and dramatic color contrasts were reminiscent of Grünewald‘s Isenheim Altarpiece, which Nauen had studied.33 According to Cohen, in contrast to the religious art that came out of Berlin,

Nauen‘s ―religious painting [was] rooted in feeling, [and] completely removed from the

30 Alfred Flechtheim, ―Mein Freund Nauen,‖ Feuer 1, Hft. 1 (October 1919): 30 ff. 31 Cohen, ―Ein Brief an Nauen als Einleitung,‖ 3-4. 32 Cohen, 4. 33 Drenker-Nagels, 56.

168 weak eclecticism of officially-sponsored church art.‖34 The strength of this emerging

Rhenish art was that it was the product of individuals and grounded in personal emotion and belief, unlike the supposedly more sterile art that resulted from collaborations between state-sponsored academies and the churches. This attitude no doubt also reflected a regional bias of the perceived deeper spirituality of Catholicism as compared with Prussian Protestantism. These perceptions were part of the broader critique of

―eclecticism,‖ in which the metropolis of Berlin was seen as overly fractured and diverse, and thus its art was a product not of a rooted artistic tradition but of a watered-down academicism.

The final trope that both connected the art to the Rhineland and distinguished it from Berlin was the metaphorical and stylistic ties to industry. Cohen wrote of the

Harvest, ―Within the outlines of the fluid figures the color flowed like liquid ore, as if directed by a master.‖35 The fact that Nauen chose to work in the seclusion of ―a bleak factory shed‖ intensified this narrative of the artist as a modest craftsman, with the local landscape serving as his raw materials.36 Within this vein of local production, Cohen also saw the influence of traditional Rhenish pottery on Nauen‘s work. Much like Nauen‘s rendering of the local landscape, this connection made the work inherently localized, and his appropriation of the color and form of the pottery served as a further affirmation of local artistic production.

These characteristics of Nauen‘s style, including an openness to French influences, spiritual undertones, and an interest in portraying the landscape a local palette, often evinced through matte green and brown tones, were reflective of what became known as

34 Cohen, 4. 35 Cohen, 3. 36 Ibid.

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―Rhenish Expressionism.‖ The existence of this loosely unified Rhenish style was advanced at a 1913 exhibition entitled Rhenish Expressionists in Bonn. Conceived by the artist August Macke and organized by Walther Cohen‘s brothers Friedrich and Heinrich, the exhibition was held at the Kunstsalon Friedrich Cohen in Bonn. The exhibition had sixteen artists, with Nauen cast as the older progenitor of the movement, and also included two female artists, Olga Oppenheimer and Nauen‘s wife, Maria von

Malachowski.37 Like Nauen, Malachowski painted landscapes that were characterized by strong verticality and loose brushwork of greens and browns. For example, in her landscape Buchenhochwald in Dilborn (Beech High Forest in Dilborn, ca. 1912) the rhythmic patterning of sun-dappled leaves and the rolling curves of the forest path saturate the entire picture plane with earthen colors. She also experimented with a bolder,

Fauvist palette in her portraiture and still lifes, such as her Vase mit Kapuzinerkresse

(1910, fig. 46). The participation of these female artists was however virtually ignored in both the reviews of the exhibition and its promotion, where as Ruth Diehl notes, their names were omitted from the advertisements.38 Additional evidence of this marginalization was that when the exhibition was presented in Flechtheim‘s gallery from

May 9th-27th 1914, both of these artists were omitted. Included, however, were five drawings by Düsseldorf female artist Felicitas Trillhaase (1894-1955).

Through Nauen and these other artists, Flechtheim established his gallery as a leading venue for exhibiting progressive Rhenish art. Flechtheim‘s promotion advanced

37 Olga Oppenheimer (1886-1941) had studied in 1909 under Paul Sérusier in Paris and was had her own private painting school at the Gereonshaus in Cologne. She also exhibited works at the 1912 Sonderbund exhibition and the Armory Show in New York. 38 Ruth Diehl, ―Sommer 1913 –Die ‗Ausstellung Rheinischer Expressionisten‘ in Bonn,‖ in August Macke und die Rheinischen Expressionisten, ed. Magdalena M. Moeller (Munich: Hirmer Verlag GmbH, 2002), 57.

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Nauen as the embodiment of modernism and stylistic tropes—connections to the local landscape, traditional art forms, a French inspired yet uniquely Rhenish color, and spirituality—which both set the Rhineland apart from Berlin and positioned it as independent from its foreign neighbors. This was all part of a broader engagement with the west, which Flechtheim continued to advocate even after the war. A notable example of this negotiation of the foreign and continued promotion of a Rhenish artistic identity was his Frauen exhibitions in 1919, which advanced these aesthetic and stylistic ideals through the exhibition of Rhenish and French female artists.

The Frauen Exhibitions at the Flechtheim Gallery

On October 5th 1919, Flechtheim opened the first of two successive gallery exhibitions entitled Frauen (Women). The exhibitions themselves offer a rare glimpse into the artistic production of local female artists, providing a wealth of visual material and a cross section of female artistic production. Each exhibition ran for two weeks and encompassed a wide range of media, including the decorative arts, photography, and painting. Like the Sonderbund, Flechtheim‘s inaugural exhibition of 1913, and his Easter exhibition of 1919, these exhibitions aimed to raise the profile of local artists and promote a dialogue between the French and German avant-garde. There were several compelling commercial reasons for Flechtheim to organize these exhibitions in 1919.

First of all, for an eight-month period following the war, an embargo on French goods and the difficulty transporting art through parts of the occupied Rhineland made it more difficult for Flechtheim to import his usual stable of French art. German galleries therefore had to redirect their focus towards German art and artists. For Flechtheim, this

171 meant giving more prominence to the German avant-garde, such as the newly founded

Junges Rheinland, as well as to female artists.39 In these times of great foreign mistrust and political unrest, female artists perhaps offered a less threatening means of exhibiting the influences of France and the avant-garde. That female artists were seen as less dangerous and aggressive was made explicit in the introduction to the exhibition‘s own catalogue, which opened with an introduction by H. W. Keim that ―[a]rt requires a spiritual completion, an inner recklessness, and a trust in strength that Woman lacks compared to Man.‖40 As seen earlier with stereotypes in education and broader cultural tropes, most of the opportunities for female artists were the result of their successful negotiation of these marginalizing stereotypes to their advantage.

These two exhibitions also came at a time when significant changes were taking place within the Düsseldorf artistic establishment. The exhibitions coincided with the

150th anniversary exhibition of the Düsseldorf Academy at the Kunstpalast. Although this anniversary was celebrated with great fanfare, the hegemony of the academy was in a marked decline. Throughout Germany, the relevance of the academies was being questioned, and the Düsseldorf Academy was both in the midst of reorganizing as well as incorporating the city‘s Decorative Arts School after it had closed in 1919. These exhibitions offered another example of the waning dominance of the academy structure as the arbiter of local artistic taste, as well as the increasing significance of the emerging local avant-garde, which, building on the successes of the Sonderbund, sought out new venues to broaden the spectrum of artistic impulses on view in Düsseldorf. The

39 Stefan Frey and Wolfgang Kersten, ―Paul Klees geschäftliche Verbindung zur Galerie Alfred Flechtheim,‖ in Alfred Flechtheim, 68. 40 H. W. Keim, ―Frauen,‖ in Kees Van Dongen. Frauen, October 5 to 18, 1919 (Düsseldorf: Flechtheim Gallery, 1919), 1. These decidedly sexist characterizations were likely a significant reason for why these exhibitions have largely been overlooked in current scholarship.

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Flechtheim Gallery was the most well known, but actually was one of several emerging avant-garde venues, such as the Graphisches Kabinett van den Bergh & Co. (opened in

1918 by Dr. Hans Koch), which offered female artists new opportunities for exposure.

Although Flechtheim had regularly exhibited both German and French female artists in his gallery from its inception in 1914, these were the first gallery exhibitions in

Düsseldorf after World War I devoted exclusively to the artistic output of women. The exhibitions also came at a critical point in the local debate over the role of women in the arts. Female students of the former Decorative Arts School still had only limited access to the Academy and so were engaged in a prolonged public campaign to attain full status and, more generally, end the Academy‘s exclusion of women (see Chapter 3). As women would not be granted full admission until 1921, these Frauen exhibitions were a pointed public reminder of the success that many accomplished women had achieved outside of the academy.

By the time of the 1919 exhibitions, several of the female artists exhibited had achieved prominence within the German art scene. Gertrud von Kunowski, who ran an art school in Düsseldorf with her husband Lothar von Kunowski, had recently been featured prominently in 1917 at the Grosse Berliner Kunstausstellung held at the

Düsseldorf Kunstpalast with thirty-eight works.41 The Kunowskis had also garnered broader attention for their book, Unsere Kunstschule, published in 1910, featuring pedagogical texts by Lothar von Kunowski that were paired with drawings by Gertrud, who had been his student. The Frauen exhibition also coincided in 1919 with the well received publication of the first monograph on Paula Modersohn Becker by Gustav Pauli,

41 This refers to number of listed exhibition entries, some of which may have included multiple works. See Grosse Berliner Kunstausstellung 1917 (Berlin: Verlag der Otto Elsner Akt-Ges., 1917), 59-60.

173 director of the Hamburg Kunsthalle, which was excerpted in Flechtheim‘s catalogue.

Although Flechtheim‘s correspondence regarding this exhibition has not survived, plans for these two exhibitions were initially advertised in late summer with a narrower focus on these prominent female artists, with the first devoted to Paula Modersohn-Becker and her friend and Worpspede colleague Ottilie Reylaender, to be followed by an exhibition featuring Gertrud von Kunowski.42 Flechtheim, however, soon expanded these into two successive exhibitions featuring twenty-nine women in all, including many local female artists and French modernist painters like Sonia Delaunay-Turk, Suzanne Valodon, and

Marie Laurencin.43

Building Bridges to France: Paula Modersohn-Becker and Marie Laurencin. During the war, Flechtheim had served as a lieutenant in the military and consequently had to give up his gallery. The gallery‘s contents were auctioned off by Paul Cassirer and Hugo

Helbing in Berlin in June 1917. The auction of the 238 works took place after a public viewing and included Rhenish artists Te Peerdt and Nauen, members of the Blaue Reiter, and French avant-garde artists such as Picasso, Gauguin, Léger, and Marie

Laurencin. Ironically this auction was, as Flacke-Knoch and von Wiese note, ―not only the first auction of contemporary art in Germany, but also the only presentation of French

42 Advertised in Wilhelm Kreis, Max Hünten, Manolo, De Vlaminck, 17 August to 6 September 1919 (Düsseldorf: Galerie Flechtheim, 1919), n.p. 43 The first exhibition presented the works of Paula Modersohn-Becker, Maria von Malachowski, Ottilie Reylaender, Costanze Bischof, Addy Witte, Marta Worringer, and Ilse Forberg. The second exhibition featured Sibylle von Aschenberg, Sonia Delunay-Terk, Hilde Exner, Ida Gerhardi, Irma Goecke, Ifine Gruben, Luise Hellersberg, Henriette Jonas, Gertrud Kaiser, Gertrud Klihm, Gertrud Kunowski, Elisabeth Kraus, Marie Laurencin, Hedwig Petermann, Irmgard Reismann-Grone, Walpurga Reismann-Grone, Henriette Rousseau, Claire Selmair-Volkhart, Else Sohn Rethel, Marga Simons, Susanne Valadon, and Maria Weyersberg.

174 modernism during the war.‖44 The ongoing debate between French and German art was obviously intensified by the tensions between the two countries following the war, which presented German dealers of French art with considerable challenges.

Upon reopening his gallery in 1919 in new rooms at Königsallee 34 (fig. 47),

Flechtheim clearly felt compelled to justify his continued support of French art and artists.

With a view to his German critics and prospective buyers, much of Flechtheim‘s promotion of French art was conducted with an eye towards bolstering the wounded

German pride. First, Flechtheim asserted the cultural relevance of Germany with regard to the all-important realm of connoisseurship. Citing Tschudi and Cassirer, among others, as the leading figures in bringing French art to Germany, he declared that the Germans were better at recognizing such talent than the French themselves. Flechtheim was not alone in this sentiment; writing in Flechtheim‘s journal, Der Querschnitt, the Hungarian born art critic Emil Szittya averred, ―If one loves French painting, one must note again and again that French painting of the last fifty years has not been characterized by great successes in France, but rather in Germany.‖45

At the heart of Flechtheim‘s argument, however, was that Germany needed

French art, largely because this cultural transfer would strengthen German art. Invoking the 19th German masters, he argued that it was not ―vaterlandslos‖ to engage with French art, citing how the imprint of France was unmistakable on the best German artists:

―French painting has been the greatest stimulus of all European art of the 19th century and our time: think only of Courbet‘s influence on our most German masters Leibl, Thoma

44 Monika Flacke-Knoch and Stephan von Wiese, 160-162. 45 Emil Szittya, ―Der Sommer,‖ Der Querschnitt 5, Hft. 8 (1925): 735.

175 and Trübner.‖46 Flechtheim optimistically told his German audience that ―perhaps

Germany will now assume France‘s legacy. Germans have already often been the completer of French stimuli: like Kant, whose philosophy derives from Descartes… [or]

Bach, the most German of musicians, who built upon French songs.‖47 In painting the

French stimulus would pave the way toward ―a new German art, which will be for the world what to them Paris once was.‖48 At first for Flechtheim, as for many contemporary

German art critics, this new German art was epitomized by Expressionism. Naturally,

Flechtheim cast this movement a result of French stimuli, namely that of Cézanne, whom he called not only ―the last Impressionist, the first Expressionist,‖49 also stating that

Germans had been ―among the few who understood Cézanne.‖50 By emphasizing the interrelatedness of French art and the success of German contemporary art, as he had done throughout the Sonderbund, Flechtheim appealed to German nationalism to justify his continued support for French art and his exhibition of it alongside German art. Of course, its continued occupation by France meant that the Rhineland faced even greater challenges, as well as unique opportunities, in the negotiation of a reengagement with

French art.

In a 1925 piece for Kunstblatt profiling the work of Marie Laurencin, Cologne art historian Alfred Salmony discussed the exceptional position of the Rhenish artistic scene and outlined the historical kinship and dialectic that existed between France and the

Rhineland. Salmony explained, ―If national polarities were to be borne out only in art,

46 Alfred Flechtheim, Auf dem Wege zur Kunst unserer Zeit. Vorkriegsbilder und Bildwerke, July 27 to August 16, 1919 (Düsseldorf: Galerie Alfred Flechtheim, 1919), 2. 47 Ibid., 18. 48 Ibid., 25. 49 Ibid., 6. 50 Ibid., 18.

176 the resolution would be found in Düsseldorf. No artificial suffocation, no academy has been capable of hindering the interlacing of the German and the French.‖51 Thus, it was this combination of the familiar Rhenish tropes of internationalism and the city‘s

―organic‖ drawing together of art that, he argued, allowed artists like Laurencin, Von

Wätjen, and others to build upon what Salmony referred to as the ―true academy.‖52

Salmony also positioned his regional argument in clear opposition to Berlin, noting that ―[i]n a more easterly city the local temperament would hinder such a connection.‖53 These themes of the opposition to Berlin, the organic nature of the art scene, its internationalism, and the historical connections echoed the Rhineland‘s promotion by figures like Osthaus, as outlined in the previous chapter. The essential role of Flechtheim‘s gallery was, as writer Hans Franck put it in the Frankfurter Zeitung, to

―build bridges, bridges from east to west, from Volk to Volk, from artist to buyer, from creator to those who enjoy it.‖54 A key part to building these bridges and restoring the cultural partnership across the Rhine was Flechtheim‘s promotion of both German and

French female artists—German female artists for their superior ability to learn the lessons of France, and French female artists as ‗non-threatening‘ ambassadors of French art. In the Frauen exhibitions, Flechtheim offered examples of both, most notably with the work of Paula Modersohn-Becker and Marie Laurencin.

Paula Modersohn-Becker (1876-1907) was posthumously represented by six paintings in the first Frauen exhibition. In Gustav Pauli‘s monograph, which was

51 Alfred Salmony, ―Marie Laurencin,‖ Das Kunstblatt 5 (May 1921): 138. 52 Ibid., 141. 53 Ibid. 54 Hans Franck, as quoted in In Memoriam Lehmbruck. Paul Klee. Walter Tanck, March 17 to Easter 1920 (Düsseldorf, Alfred Flechtheim Gallery, 1920), n.p.

177 excerpted and advertised in the first Frauen catalogue, he praised Becker‘s work for adding a dimension of German spiritualism to the emotive power and formal technique of

French art. After situating Becker and her Worpspede colleagues within the context of

German art—citing Böcklin through Liebermann as her Germanic artistic influences—he concentrated on addressing the ―related natures‖ of Cézanne and Becker, ―despite all differences in education, race and gender.‖55

Modersohn-Becker‘s firsthand exposure to Cézanne and other French artists was a result of multiple trips to Paris. During her first two visits in 1900 and 1903, Becker attended the Académie Colarossi as well as an anatomy class at the École des Beaux-Arts.

She expanded her education outside her formal schooling, often visiting the Louvre and other museums with her sculptor friend Clara Westhoff, as well as avant-garde galleries.

During her third trip in 1905, Becker enrolled in the Académie Julian, visited the studios of Vuillard, Denis, and Rodin, and attended the Indépendants salon.56 Becker observed that there was a ―nervousness‖ in the French which she thought to be potentially beneficial, believing that, ―We Germans are probably somewhat ponderous in our views, somewhat stolid, not nervous enough.‖57 Having spent most of her early artistic life in the small artistic circle at Worpswede, her time in France afforded her freedom from a

German theoretical artistic framework. Although she remained very proud to be German and saw herself as painting according to a German sensibility, she deeply admired French

55 Gustav Pauli, Paula Modersohn-Becker (Leipzig: Kurt Wolff Verlag, 1919), 37. 56 Paula Modersohn-Becker to Otto Modersohn, 10 March 1905, reprinted in Paula Modersohn-Becker: The Letters and Journals, eds. Gunter Busch and Liselotte von Reinken, trans. Arthur Wensinger and Carol Clew Hoey (Evanston: Northwestern University Press, 1998), 356-7. 57 Modersohn-Becker to Otto and Helene Modersohn, 29 February 1900, reprinted in Letters, 169.

178 art, believing that the ―[g]reat French painters here are totally without convention. They dare to see things naively. There is no end to what one can learn from them.‖58

Perhaps the greatest lessons for Paula Modersohn-Becker came from Cézanne.

Her fellow artist and confidante Clara Rilke-Westhoff recalled Becker‘s first encounter with the artist, writing: ―She [Becker] led me to the art dealer Vollard…. [selecting] with great self-assurance a few of them that were of an altogether new simplicity and seemed to be close to her nature. They were pictures by Cézanne which we saw there for the first time.‖59 Although Pauli acknowledged the compositional and thematic importance of

Cézanne for Becker, he also asserted several key differences in their work. In particular,

Pauli found Becker‘s paintings to be ―not only more compassionate than Cézanne, rather more spiritual, with a particular romantic spiritualizing (Beseelung) of the object, that seems to be a talent of the Germans.‖60 Pauli saw a deeper spirituality in Becker‘s work, as expressed through her use of darker tones woven ―like threads in fabric‖ in her work, as well as through her own words, in which she stated her feeling of kinship with gothic form.61 Her colors, he wrote, reflect the darker, more tempestuous atmosphere of her

German landscape, as opposed to the brighter, sun-drenched backdrop of Cézanne‘s

Provence. Additionally, Becker‘s uniquely German spirituality was, according to Pauli, coupled with a less worldly and more instinctual, looser composition with heavier brushwork, reflecting her more provincial Worpspede roots.62 He argued, ―Paula

58 Modersohn-Becker to her parents, ca. 11 May 1900, reprinted in Letters, 188. 59 Clara Rilke-Westhoff, ―A Recollection,‖ undated, reprinted in Letters, 173. 60 Pauli, 41. 61 Ibid., 40. 62 Ibid., 40.

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Modersohn proves herself as German with the lesser ability of ordering the composition, juxtaposed with a stronger force of expression and an inner spirituality (Beseelung).‖63

However, it was not only her ―Germanness,‖ according to Pauli, that enabled her deep spirituality: the fact that she was a woman made her better suited to paint with emotion and compassion. In discussing her later figural work, particularly her Mother and Child, he argued:

In it we see everything brought together, what was effectively raised and held up in Paula Modersohn, her greatness and her refinement, her mysticism, her femininity and her childlike quality (ihre Mystik, ihre Weiblichkeit und ihre Kindlichkeit). In no case so much as here is the banal transformed to the monumental.64

One cannot help but read Pauli‘s characterization of still lifes as ―feminine‖ and ―banal‖ as, at least in part, a backhanded criticism of the French art that influenced her. Whether or not Becker‘s work exhibits the ―feminine compassion‖ to which Pauli refers, Becker‘s subject matter, such as in her Mother and Child and Children‟s Buggy (c. 1904, fig. 48), both included in Flechtheim‘s exhibition, did often contain feminine themes such as motherhood and infancy. Her figures, however, lack the fragility or sexuality implied by the ―feminine‖ description. Becker‘s figures display a strength and coarseness that many critics, in particular Pauli, saw as a harbinger of the raw emotion, primitivism, and spiritual impact conveyed by the German Expressionists. Her enthusiasts included Karl

Ernst Osthaus, who mounted a large-scales exhibition of her work at the Museum

Folkwang in 1913 and the Wuppertal banker Karl von der Heydt, who presented it in his own residence. By 1918, von der Heydt had acquired the largest collection of her work,

63 Ibid., 39. 64 Ibid., 41-42.

180 which would later become a cornerstone of the Von der Heydt Museum in Wuppertal.65

These collections of her work were, however, mainly concentrated within the region so that prior to the exhibition and the publication of her monograph, as Pauli noted, ―she

[was] still largely unknown outside of the German northwest.‖66 The Frauen exhibition, in addition to her inclusion at the 1912 Sonderbund, served to further cement her recognition among art critics as an early precursor to German modernism and in particular Expressionism. For Flechtheim, Paula Modersohn Becker offered a high profile example of the value in applying the lessons of France to Germany, and her success was seen in no small part as resulting from her gender, affording her the emotive power that was to define the new German art.

Equally important to exhibiting German artists who had learned the lessons of

France was introducing French artists who were compatible with notions of Rhenish identity—and no French artist was more perfectly suited to bring the stylistic tools and lessons of France to Germany than Marie Laurencin. Flechtheim praised Laurencin as part of the rich legacy of French art, from the rococo to cubism. In the exhibition catalogue, Flechtheim drew connections between Laurencin and those iconic French painters with which the German audience would have been well familiar:

Of the painters of the dying rococo up to Marie Laurencin, painting in France forms an unbroken chain of the most glorious pearls: David, Ingres, Géricault, Delacroix, Daumier, Corot, the Barbizon masters, Courbet, Manet and Monet, Renoir, Degas, Cézanne, Gauguin, van Gogh, Seurat and the other neoimpressionists, Matisse, the customs officer Rousseau and the academy professor‘s son Picasso, to name only the greatest.67

65 Günter Busch and Liselotte von Reinken, ―Notes,‖ in Letters, p.531ff. 66 Pauli, reproduced in Kees van Dongen. Frauen, 4. 67 Alfred Flechtheim, Auf dem Wege zur Kunst unserer Zeit, 2-3.

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Laurencin (1883-1956) began her artistic training as a porcelain painter at the renowned

Sèvres factory before attending the Académie Humbert in Paris (1903-04), where she met

Georges Braque. Laurencin first exhibited at the Salon des Indépendants in 1907, and became part of the Bateau-Lavoir circle of painters and poets. By her mid twenties,

Laurencin had already received broad recognition in France, where she found an early champion in Apollinaire, with whom she had a romantic relationship until 1912.

Laurencin met Flechtheim through the Café du Dôme circle of artists in Paris. Even when he was still working as a grain dealer, Flechtheim‘s enthusiasm for Laurencin‘s work was apparent. He offered the artist 300 francs to purchase her Toilette des jeune filles, to which she incredulously replied, ―Vous allez vous ruiner, Monsieur.‖68

Flechtheim‘s earliest plans for a Düsseldorf gallery were to build upon the

Rhineland‘s history of artistic internationalism to promote the French avant-garde included Laurencin along with other established artists. In 1913 he noted in his diary, ―I will carry… early Picassos, Derain, Vlaminck (Kahnweiler), Marie Laurencin, Dardel,

Joveneau – Munch, Postimpressionists!‖69 As well as regularly showing her work at his gallery, Flechtheim loaned four works from his collection for the 1914 Werkbund

Exhibition in Cologne. In 1919 alone, Flechtheim showed her work in three group exhibitions. She was represented at Flechtheim‘s Easter exhibition, as well as in a group exhibition of pre-war art, entitled Auf dem Wege zur Kunst unserer Zeit (On the Path to the Art of Our Time). In advertising his gallery (fig. 49), Flechtheim gave the works of

Laurencin even more prominence than those of Nauen and Picasso.

68 Hermann von Wedderkop, Junge Kunst, Marie Laurencin, Bd. 22 (Leipzig: Verlag von Klinkhardt & Biermann, 1921), 7. 69 Alfred Flechtheim, ―Alfred Flechtheim: Tagebuchblätter 1913,‖ 56.

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Flechtheim‘s extensive support of her work, as well as the artist‘s own biography, placed her at the intersection of the cultural and national identities of France and the Rhineland.

Laurencin‘s biography had made her the perfect bridge between France and

Germany—and, in particular, the Rhineland. In 1914 Laurencin married the Düsseldorf painter and aristocrat Otto von Wätjen, whom she met through her ties to the Café du

Dôme circle in Paris and as a fellow student at the Académie Humbert. Through her marriage, Laurencin was granted German citizenship, though the couple fled to Spain for the duration of the war. The marriage was highly contentious and abusive, and by 1921 she had divorced and returned to Paris. The year before that, however, Laurencin had lived in Düsseldorf after returning from Spain, and her presence in the Rhineland allowed

Flechtheim to promote not just the works of Laurencin but the artist herself. Laurencin‘s connections to Germany and the Rhineland had two effects. First, her personal ties to

Düsseldorf allowed Flechtheim to promote her, in part, as a local artist. Second, it resulted in her temporary alienation from the French art scene. Laurencin was excluded from exhibiting at the 1921 Salon d‟Automne on the grounds of her German citizenship.

Being rejected by France, however, only improved Flechtheim‘s ability to promote

Laurencin in the Rhineland. This French rejection fit perfectly with the above belief that

Germans were often better suited to recognize French art or artists who were not understood in their native country. For Laurencin, being caught between France and

Germany and somewhat alienated from both made her all the more suited to a Rhineland which had likewise long been a liminal space between the two countries. This alienation from France was however short lived, in part due to the intercession of Flechtheim, who,

183 in a rare engagement outside of Germany, instituted a letter writing campaign of French artists on her behalf.70

In addition to her biography, Laurencin‘s promoters emphasized her stylistic connections to the Rhineland and its artistic past. Salmony aligned the spirit and graceful aesthetic of Laurencin‘s art with the region‘s cultural history, poetically seeing echoes of

18th century court life in both Laurencin‘s art and present day Düsseldorf. In Salmony‘s appraisal, Laurencin‘s compositions suggested less the aristocratic trappings and more the choreographed elegance of courtly life. In describing works such as her etching Les jeunes filles (fig. 50), Salmony invoked the courtly splendor of nearby Benrath Palace, writing, ―The rococo is not forgotten. It lives in Düsseldorf around Benrath Palace. In the fantasy of Marie Laurencin, female dancers move with a childlike build, men become gallant knaves, [and] animals look innocently inquisitive.‖71 In addition to enabling

German promoters to reminisce about the Rhenish artistic past, Laurencin was integral to the definition of the Rhenish artistic present, in particular France‘s influence upon and kinship with the Rhenish avant-garde. As art historian Annegret Rittman has noted,

―That her painterly style conformed to the German ideal of French airiness and grace, contributed significantly to her recognition in the Rhineland, where for some time there had existed, through the Expressionists, close artistic ties to France.‖72 Rhenish

Expressionists were noted for their French influences, in particular the delicacy of their palette and appropriations of French elegance. Writing in Kunstblatt in 1919, Werner

Witthaus extolled Rhenish painting for being ―so charming and deep‖ and quoted the

70 Monika Flacke-Knoch and Stephan von Wiese, 168. 71 Ibid. 72 Annegret Rittman, ‗Marie Laurencin: ―…Die weiblichste, frauenhafteste mädchenhafteste aller Künstlerinnen,‖‘ in Distanz und Aneignung: Relations Artistiques entre la France et L‟Allemagne 1870- 1945, ed. Alexandre Kostka and Françoise Lucbert (Berlin: Akademie-Verlag, 2004), 356.

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Rhenish Expressionist Paul Seehaus: ―Like the scent of the silver-grey and violet atmosphere, the forms of the Rhenish landscape encircle flatteringly and restore balance, thus an almost traditional beauty penetrates the works of these Rhenish painters….

France‘s vicinity rings softly herein.‖73

Flechtheim was initially as involved with the promotion of Rhenish

Expressionism as he was with that of Laurencin. His first gallery exhibition after the war was entitled The Expressionists and featured artists such as Heinrich Nauen and Christian

Rohlfs. The catalogue also included an introduction by the Junges Rheinland, on whose advisory board Flechtheim served. By the end of the year, however, Flechtheim was embroiled in a public debate with the Junges Rheinland, largely because of its leftist political associations. This resulted in his blanket opposition to Expressionism, at one point even mockingly referring to Die Brücke as ―die Scholle‖ (dirt).74 Interestingly, however, this rejection of Expressionism only served to intensify the promotion of

Laurencin. Laurencin‘s light and airy scenes were now held up as a refreshing antidote to, in the words of Salmony, the ―heavy and thought-laden‖ nature of Expressionism.75

Hermann von Wedderkop praised Laurencin‘s compositions as possessing ―the sharpness and clarity of a Watteau, with his sweetness… [along with] a visionary quality, a reaction to the chaos of today‘s surroundings… [which counters the] unhappy weakness of a period calling itself Expressionism.‖76

The challenges of advancing the French Laurencin in contrast to the German

Expressionists reveal the pragmatic advantage that the fact that Laurencin was a woman

73 Werner Witthaus, ―Das Junge Rheinland,‖ Das Kunstblatt 3, Hft. 9 (1919): 276. 74 Alfred Flechtheim, ―Zehn Jahre Kunsthändler,‖ 154. 75 Salmony, 138. 76 von Wedderkop, 6.

185 had for Flechtheim. Playing into the feminized stereotypes of French art gave Flechtheim and contemporary Rhenish critics a less threatening vocabulary with which to promote the art of both male and female French artists to a German public wary of the encroachment of French art. Alfred Salmony mused, for example, that ―A Parisian perfume encircles the prints and pictures on the Rhine.‖77 This delicate wafting emphasized not only femininity and gentleness but also the proximity of the neighboring cultures. In this way, the importation of French art not only became feminized, but it was cast almost as a pleasurable seduction. For example, Salmony‘s review praised

Laurencin‘s ―girlish freshness, the airy liberty [which] advances her painting toward a longed for paradise that should be a delight to every being in the world.‖78 In his review of Sommer (Summer), a 1921 portfolio of Laurencin‘s illustrations issued by Flechtheim, the German art critic Paul Ferdinand Schmidt raved: ―That is the strength of her art, that it appears so fragile; as the tenderest blossom of French culture of almost exceedingly fine daintiness and with a perfume that has been very exclusively, carefully distilled. We love her so.‖79 In spite of the intensity of such critical praise, casting themselves as enamored suitors seems an attempt to contain Laurencin within the more controllable category of mistress.

It should be noted that such a highly-feminized reading of Laurencin‘s art had also been advanced by her French promoters at the beginning of her career. Apollinaire

(who at the time of writing in 1908 was in fact her lover) elided her French and feminine qualities in his earliest praise for the artist:

77 Salmony, 142. 78 Ibid. 79 Paul Ferdinand Schmidt, quoted in ―Ausgaben der Galerie Flechtheim,‖ Mitteilungen der Galerie Flechtheim, Hft. 2/3 (May 1921): 105.

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I have no words adequate to define the totally French grace of Mlle. Marie Laurencin. She is endowed with the greatest possible number of feminine qualities and is free of all masculine shortcomings. Perhaps the greatest error of most women artists is that they want to surpass their male colleagues, and in attempting to do so, they lose their feminine taste and gracefulness. The case of Mlle. Laurencin is very different…. Mlle. Laurencin‘s personality vibrates with joyfulness. Purity is her natural sphere; she breathes it freely.80

As with his German counterparts, praising Laurencin and the purity of work as wholly feminine allowed Apollinaire to situate her within his own ‗female-only‘ artistic realm, in which he could celebrate her success without being threatening to the success of male artists.81

Similarly, the critical reception of the Frauen exhibitions, though celebratory, also attempted to contain this success within a female realm, largely through the use of well-worn stereotypical characterizations. Reviews from the Frauen exhibitions highlight three of the most persistent tropes that dominated the reception of women‘s art: the distinctly ‗feminine‘ characteristics of the art produced by women; the exceptionalism and independence of the few female artists deemed to have genuine talent; and the delineation of particular artistic media as acceptable for women. Far more interesting than the continued existence of these gendered and sexist critiques were the ways in which women were able to navigate and transcend these biases to gain entry and even prominence in the Rhenish art world.

Negotiating „femininity‟: Tropes of female art. Most critiques of the participating female artists were dominated by discussions of what the reviewer perceived as universal and

80 Gustav Apollinaire, ―The Salon des Indépendants,‖ La Revue des Lettres et des Arts, May 1, 1908, excerpted in Apollinaire on Art, ed. Leroy C. Breunig, trans. Susan Suleiman (London: Thames and Hudson, 1972), 44. 81 Elizabeth Louise Kahn, Marie Laurencin: Une femme inadaptée in Feminist Histories of Art (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2003), 44.

187 characteristics of art produced by women. Invariably, these characteristics were portrayed as manifestations of the inherent nature of women and their lesser aptitudes.

For example, one reviewer in the Rheinisch-Westfälische-Zeitung expounded upon the

‗problematic‘ nature of female art:

The artistic woman acts mostly in breadth, instead of depth, although her spiritual readiness and aptitude for feeling is seemingly by nature much closer to the artistic sphere than that of the man. But art is not only feeling, spiritual readiness, but will, intellect and compositional ability, inasmuch as it deals with productive artistic creation. According to her nature, a woman as designer evidently tends less towards capturing a worldly feeling than that of the man, whose fantasy is more sweeping, more obstreperous, whose compositional will comprises broad expanse and whose expressive power is more eruptive.82

Clearly the critics felt little need to disguise the sexual and physical underpinnings of these characterizations. Delineating particular, invariably inferior, qualities of art produced by women was certainly nothing new and echoed similar critiques leveled against women in the previous decades. As for the female artists themselves, many featured in this exhibition did not shy away from addressing these gendered categories in their work. Artists such as Marie Laurencin negotiated a path that explored these tropes of femininity while at the same time destabilizing any fixed characterizations of the

―artistic woman.‖

Laurencin forged her own stylistic independence which explored and often undermined familiar tropes of femininity. The most obvious manifestation of this was

Laurencin‘s choice of subject matter. With the exception of portraiture, her oeuvre constituted almost exclusively depictions of women. In addition to her self-portraits, her works focused such subjects and settings as female dancers, high fashion women, goddesses, and frolicking girls in pastoral scenes surrounded by animals. A typical

82 P.A.S., ―Die Frau und die neue Kunst,‖ Rheinisch-Westfälische-Zeitung, Abend Nr. 861, October 28, 1919. Emphasis added.

188 example can be found in her aforementioned Les jeunes filles (fig. 50), which was first shown in the Flechtheim Gallery‘s inaugural exhibition. The four figures, each resembling Laurencin, gather flowers, play on a garden swing, lounge with a dog, and all appear in their flowing dresses like classical muses. The repetition of figures gives the composition a decorative quality, as does her occasional use of an oval shape, both evoking Laurencin‘s beginnings as a porcelain painter. Laurencin‘s style intensified this sense of femininity: her dependence on line and use of pastels, elegant gesturing of the arms with bent elbows and slender fingers, as well as the full lips and dark, shaded eyes of her later figures, all contributing to what Apollinaire coined ―a Laurencin woman.‖83

Laurencin also embraced these associations in her intentionally provocative public persona as an artist, unapologetically declaring in interviews her fascination with all things ‗feminine.‘ She once remarked, ―A fashionable woman to me is the greatest work of art… The hands of women, their feet is my greatest preoccupation.‖84 In the years following the Frauen exhibition, she became a sought after society portrait painter for such notable figures as Coco Chanel. She remained a complex figure, and her unabashed embrace of femininity extended to her characterization of painting itself:

I conceive of a woman‘s role to be of a different nature: painting to be essentially a ―job‖ for a woman… and a painter‘s inspiration to be life and that of a natural sensibility rather than the outcome of intellect or reason. There is something incongruous to me in the vision of a strong man sitting all day… manipulating small paint brushes, something essentially effeminate.85

This typifies the problematic tensions within Laurencin‘s characterizations of herself and of painting. On the one hand, she seems to affirm gendered roles and even validate

83 Gustav Apollinaire, ―Art News: Women Painters,‖ Le Petit Bleu, April 5, 1912, reproduced in Apollinaire on Art, 229. 84 Gabrielle Buffet, ―Marie Laurencin,‖ The Arts, June 1923, 394. 85 Dorothy Todd, ―Exotic Canvases Suited to Modern Decorations,‖ Arts and Decorations, June 1928, 92

189 stereotypes of women as non-intellectual, but by the same token, she lays claim to the entire realm of painting for women. It was this tension that led to the oft-quoted description of Laurencin from 1928 as ―the strangest feminist the world has ever seen.‖86

The German female artists in this exhibition also frequently employed images of women and, more generally, femininity. Maternal images figured prominently, such as in the work of Paula Modersohn Becker, whose many depictions of mothers and children were beginning to find a broader audience. Included in this exhibition were her paintings of a Mother and Child, Children in the Countryside, and a Baby Buggy. One local example from the exhibition can be found in the work of Cologne artist Marta Worringer, who had trained privately under Willy Spatz in Düsseldorf. In the postwar period,

Worringer frequently executed compositions with maternal themes, characterized by dense space and a close proximity of figures which often envelop each other. Included in the first Frauen exhibition was her Embroidered Image (fig. 51), which was reproduced on the front page of the catalogue. This image, now lost, depicts a network of soft, flowing curves that mirror the oval shape. At center within the womblike composition, a mother cradles her child in an image that evokes a nativity scene. These images were in part employed because they resonated so closely with Rhenish iconography of home and hearth, particularly in the case of Modersohn Becker with her earthy depictions of figures in commune with country life. Also, German female artists may have frequently employed these more conservative tropes of femininity since they were not granted the same license Laurencin was given as the quintessential representative of French sensuality.

86 Ibid., 92.

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Despite the use of such feminine tropes, these compositions employed elements that actively resisted objectification. There is often a sense of detachment about these figures, which either occupy their own mythic worlds or, through their self-absorption, do not actively invite the gaze of the (male) viewer. Even when the figures return this gaze, as can be seen in Laurencin‘s Les jeunes filles, there is often a staged quality to the composition, whereby the figures are on display and yet remain inaccessible. In most of her images, Laurencin creates a female space absent of men, and in one of her few paintings with a male figure, Hôtel de la Marine (1914, fig. 52), he is kept at a distance.

In this painting, which Flechtheim owned and displayed in his home, the female figures stand so close as to be overlapping, whereas the effeminate-looking suitor, who kneels while proffering a fan, is positioned apart from the pair in the left foreground and separated by the diagonal curve of the vegetation, draped cloth, and animal. Given that these women are standing on the street in front of a hotel, there is at least the suggestion that they are prostitutes—a notion undermined by how completely indifferent both women are to the suitor‘s advances. One leans away and out of the picture frame, with her arm resting against a tree that resembles a stage prop. Later, in fact, Laurencin went so far as to literally cut this painting in half, so as to remove the male figure altogether.

In examining her creation of exclusively female spaces, it should be noted that Laurencin was not highly proficient in her renderings of male figures, as evidenced by this painting—although it is difficult to say if this was cause or effect in her choice of gendered subject matter. Laurencin herself stated, ―I do not like to paint men. I don‘t know if I am capable of painting a man‘s portrait.‖87

87 Buffet, 396.

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As Laurencin continued to explore themes of feminine spaces and female intimacy, the lesbian undertones present in her works became more explicit, as the artist disentangled herself from an abusive marriage and engaged in sexual relationships with women. This creation of intimate and insular female spaces should not be read as a retreat on the part of Laurencin. In fact, despite the aforementioned critic‘s claim of female art to be less ―obstreperous‖ than that of their male counterparts, many of

Laurencin‘s images reveal a willingness to confront the viewer, such as her glaring self- portrait La Dame au mouchoir (Woman with Handkerchief, fig. 53).88 By using her self image, as argued by art historian Elizabeth Louise Kahn, Laurencin ―self-consciously positions herself in control of her mental state and secure in her identity, and thus challenges any power the spectator might assume over her presence.‖89

Laurencin was not alone in creating autonomous images with highly sexualized female-only spaces. For example, in Gertrud Klihm‘s Woodcut (fig. 54), one of twelve woodcuts included in the second Frauen exhibition alongside Laurencin, a female figure lies on her back with her head turned toward the viewer, possibly with her eyes closed.

The figure looks exotic, with plaited hair reminiscent of ancient Egyptian images. The figure is very stylized and elongated, with her angular body set contrasted with the heavily patterned background, characteristic of German Expressionism. Although nude, her body is partially shielded from the viewer from five patterned diagonal rays that juxtapose the jagged lines in the background. The figure does not directly engage the viewer, but appears self immersed. The detached quality of the figure is further emphasized by the stage-like composition, evoking Klihm‘s many theater designs for the

88 This was one of four works that Flechtheim loaned for the 1914 Werkbund exhibition in Cologne. 89 Kahn, 23.

192 progressive Schauspielhaus in Düsseldorf. The composition‘s staged and almost dreamlike quality perhaps made such a display of female sexuality more palatable to a conservative local audience.

Similarly, many of the participating female artists frequently employed a range of mythic figures, such as Amazons, sirens, and Diana, to display highly sexualized content in settings that were both familiar and socially acceptable to a Rhenish audience. For example, Laurencin‘s images containing strong lesbian undertones were couched within scenes of classical sirens, which like her other imagery featured only pairs or groups of women. Although Elizabeth Louise Kahn has asserted that in comparison with her earlier works the lesbian themes in her images for the German market were toned down,90 her

1920 painting Sirens (fig. 55) was included in von Wederkopp‘s German monograph.

Therefore, her German audience had at least some exposure to these themes, displayed by two central figures in a languid embrace. These portrayals shared the themes of female strength and independence seen in the Rhenish siren depictions of the Loreley, as described in Chapter Two. However, one major difference between Laurencin‘s sirens and the early Loreley imagery—and most classical siren iconography—is that Laurencin did not portray female sexuality as threatening and dangerous: the female figures are not luring sailors to their doom but rather seem more intent upon seducing one another.

This is not to say that the issue of male seduction is avoided altogether. The

Laurencin sirens return what is presumably a male gaze, and the cropped composition and proximity of the pair in the foreground force intimacy with the viewer. The intrusive role of the viewer is symbolized by a female figure in the upper left, who, partly concealed, spies on the pair but is separated by the stage-like background that envelops

90 Kahn, 132.

193 her. This sense of intrusion by the viewer upon a self-contained female world was further echoed in Laurencin‘s portrayals of Amazons, as seen in her painting from 1921 (fig. 56).

Here the central figure on horseback looks back over her shoulder at the viewer, while forming a tight circle with the other female figures.

As with mythological imagery, biblical tropes were also frequently used by female artists in these exhibitions to couch images of female sexuality. One such example was the Düsseldorf artist Gertrud Kaiser‘s drawing of Salome (fig. 57), included in Flechtheim‘s second Frauen exhibition. Much like the ‗female only‘ siren scenes,

Kaiser does not depict Salome seducing a male audience, but alone and contemplative in the woods, accompanied only by the head of John the Baptist. Similar to Klihm‘s

Woodcut, Kaiser draws upon the visual language of Expressionism for this highly stylized and staged composition, as evidenced by the two-dimensional backdrop of mountains and the architectural elements visible at left and right. The figure of Salome in the foreground almost spills out toward the viewer. Salome‘s isolation is heightened by her framing within the natural setting, in which her silhouette echoes the surrounding mountains and vegetation. In this Salome image, one of two by Kaiser in the exhibition, she appears as almost a force of nature and an extension of it. With arms outstretched, she kneels reverently before the head of John the Baptist, resembling less a femme fatale than a pagan priestess. This combination of these two central pillars of Rhenish identity, religion and nature, would also clearly have had strong resonance for a Rhenish audience.

As discussed in the works of Nauen, this religious imagery not only deepened connections to the Rhineland‘s spiritual identity but also to its historical religious past.

Many of these images were highly reminiscent of medieval altarpieces, such as Luise

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Hellersberg‘s Crucifixion (fig. 58), whose embroidery closely resembled a gothic woodcarving. The figure of Christ at center towers over the other figures in the foreground and the much smaller flanking angels. This expressionist embroidery carries a visceral impact that belies its more ‗delicate‘ medium. The Christ figure is depicted with a grotesquely enlarged head, as he leans out toward the viewer with eyes wide and mouth agape as if mid scream. Sacred images had long served to assert the independence of the predominately Catholic Rhineland from the rest of Germany, and there were numerous examples in the Frauen exhibitions, such as the Madonna from Sybille von

Aschenberg, Hellersberg‘s Crucifixion and Mockery of Christ, and Hedwig Petermann‘s

Expulsion from Eden (fig. 59). Images of the Christ and in particular of the crucifixion, however, took on a new importance in the Rhineland following in the years World War

One. As art historian Gast Mannes states, the crucifixion was frequently used as a symbol of ―historical conflicts carried through to the present… [with the] Christ figure as an ideal of the new human, but also as a paradigm of suffering, death, and the implicit hope for redemption.‖91 In this context, it is notable that if the Crucifixion is to be read an allegory for the suffering of the Rhineland, the foreground figures embodying sorrow are the female figures of the grieving Marys. Images which combined contemporary female suffering with biblical imagery such as grieving mothers or war nurses as pietàs would continue to pervade Rhenish art throughout the 1920s. Similar biblical themes of female suffering and sorrow can further be seen in Hedwig Petermann‘s Woodcut depicting the expulsion from Eden, which is dominated by a naked and kneeling Eve who

91 Gast Mannes, ―Du sollst Dir ein Bildnis machen – Christliche Semantik in der Druckgraphik rheinischer Künstler zu Beginn des 20. Jahrhunderts,‖ in Christus an Rhein und Ruhr: Zur Wiederentdeckung des Sakralen in der Moderne 1910-1930, ed. Gertrude Cepl-Kaufmann and Jasmin Grande (Bonn: August Macke Haus, 2009), 157-8.

195 cradles her head in her hands in sadness and possibly shame. Like the crucifixion, the scene of a lost paradise would have had particular poignancy in the occupied Rhineland, in which Edenic images of nature and the loss of the idealized Heimat played a critical role in Rhenish identity.

This spiritual and arcadian vision of nature was seen as a hallmark of the Rhenish ideal and a contrast to what was perceived by critics as the academic landscapes of Berlin.

Also, these lyrical and emotive characteristics in the Rhenish ideal of nature emphasized attributes were more expressly feminine. This could also be seen in the works of

Laurencin, which frequently employed images of nature and tranquil pastoral settings, which she described thusly: ―Regarding the things that surround me, trees, flowers, birds, faces, fruits, I say: ‗… I want to love you with all my powers, sing you my moving songs.‘‖92 This emotional and even musical interpretation echoed the underlying ethos of the Rhenish relationship to nature. The intersection of Laurencin‘s and the Rhenish emphasis on nature was perhaps most explicit in Flechtheim‘s publication in 1920 of a portfolio (Summer) featuring four illustrations of poems by the Rhenish Adolf von

Hatzfeld (1892-1957).93 Summer paired Von Hatzfeld‘s evocative and spiritual poems with Laurencin‘s depiction of female figures and animals in minimalist natural settings.

Her illustrations portrayed a symbiotic relationship of female figures and animals with their natural environment, as seen in fig. 60, in which two dogs blend almost seamlessly into the seated female figure, who is lost in thought while cradling a violin. Set off against the solid curve of the rock at left, the pattern of her dress also echoes the curves of the foliage sprouting from the ground. It was this fusion of nature and harmony that

92 As quoted in Salmony, 138n. 93 Von Hatzfeld was raised in Hamm (Westphalia) and Düsseldorf. In 1926 he co-founded the Bund Rheinischer Dichter (Union of Rhenish Poets).

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Salmony praised in these illustrations: ―Animals and birds dissolve themselves from the ground, the play of forms are integrated lightly and joyfully.‖94

This connection between nature and the feminine was never more explicit than with the Loreley and Germania as personifications of the Rhine and German territory.

Both Germania and the ―Laurencin woman‖ employed tropes of female strength and independence to symbolize the protection of a particular space. While Loreley as

Germania symbolized military strength to protect the political and cultural identity of a geographic space, Laurencin defined a more idealized space for the private expression of feminine and personal desires. Of course, as a prominent representative in Germany of

French art and even ‗Frenchness‘ as a whole, Laurencin and her work also symbolized an idealized geographic space.

In this way, Laurencin became yet another female personification of a nation, as

Germania and Marianne before her, with even her image becoming a similarly recognizable icon. In fact, one of the most enduring images was her Self-Portrait (1920, fig. 61), printed on handmade paper and signed by the artist. Flechtheim‘s Gallery sold forty copies of this image, and it was included by von Wedderkop in his 1921 monograph of Laurencin. That this image was so enduring and frequently reproduced was a reflection of the recognition that Laurencin had attained in France and abroad as a famous female artist, now touted to her new German audience as ―world-famous and… very popular in France and America.‖95 Furthermore, this somber likeness served as a counterbalance to her quintessentially ‗feminine‘ images, which may have been an attempt by Laurencin to validate herself as a more ‗serious‘ artist in the eyes of her

94 Salmony, 140. 95 Vossischen Zeitung, excerpted in Otto Grautoff, ―Die Kunst in Frankreich seit 1914,‖ Arthur Kaufmann, September 12 to October 2, 1920 (Düsseldorf: Galerie Alfred Flechtheim, 1920), 26.

197 growing public. Additionally, when critics tried to bolster her seriousness and legitimacy, they did so by emphasizing her ‗masculine‘ qualities. Wedderkop, for example provided a description that bordered on the phrenological, noting her ―broad forehead that forbids silliness and aims for masculine forms of expression.‖96 This attitude that for a female artist to be legitimate she must transcend her gender was a common assessment of female artists, made perhaps nowhere more frequently than Paula Modersohn Becker.

The Independent Female Artist. The ‗masculinization‘ of certain women artists was, in part, an attempt to reconcile praise for particular female artists with the stated beliefs that

‗feminine‘ qualities precluded true artistic talent. For example, in his introduction to the

Frauen catalogue, Keim stated that the difference between masculine and feminine artistic abilities ―lies admittedly less in the sexuality than in the qualities of the male and female characters, which do not necessarily need to match the sex.‖97 For Keim,

Modersohn-Becker was one of the few female artists to successfully avoid the pitfalls of female characteristics and praised her masculine qualities. This was echoed in an advertisement for Pauli‘s monograph in the exhibition catalogue, which praised her life‘s work of ―masculine creative talent.‖98 The masculinization of female artists was closely coupled with a second trope: the independent artist. There was frequently the implication that the ability to transcend one‘s gender was dependent upon isolating oneself from the influences of either the broader artistic community or a male mentor. The former would supposedly corrupt a female artist‘s talent, while the latter would overwhelm her. As one reviewer of the exhibition stated, it was only when the female artist does not ―exhaust

96 von Wedderkop, 5. 97 Keim, 1-2. 98 Advertisement in Kees van Dongen. Frauen, 31.

198 herself artist in the indirect artist community, upon the suggestion of the male partner but emerges as a self-employed artist [that] we come across women with formidably high aptitude.‖99 As was seen above with the ―concerns‖ of Berlin that the Rhenish artist would be subsumed by French influence, there is here a similar implication of weakness in women‘s supposed inability to learn lessons without being overwhelmed by them.

This attitude was echoed by Keim, who praised Becker for her independence that allowed her to avoid the failings of earlier female artists, stating ―One who holds a picture by Eva Gonzalès or Berthe Morisot next to their teacher Manet must notice at once the failure of artistic independence in these works.‖100 To these critics, working closely with male artists only highlighted the central flaw of the female artist: her lack of originality. When acting as ―sounding boards‖ of the ideas produced by men, the female artist ―first hears the voice of her own social feeling and receives from it the impregnation of her own artistic life. This almost impersonal merging of given trains of thought and emotion makes a woman an ideal illustrator.‖101

„Feminine‟ Media: Illustration and the Applied Arts. Illustration and the decorative arts were frequently cast by critics as acceptable media for female artists, given their supposed absence of autonomous creativity. As seen in the previous chapters with the

Düsseldorf Decorative Arts School, these fields became acceptable for women once their legitimacy among male artists had begun to wane. The decorative arts now offered

―unforeseen opportunities for development, which the women are once again capturing,

99 P.A.S., ―Die Frau und die neue Kunst.‖ 100 Keim, 2. 101 Ibid.

199 after it had for the longest time fallen as fundamentally into disrepute as possible.‖102

The emergence of this opportunity is somewhat ironic, given that women‘s entry had been blamed for the disrepute of the decorative arts. Critics who were reluctant to acknowledge female artistic talent in ‗high art‘ were, however, willing to believe that in the decorative arts:

individual production meets the particularly skilled sensitivity of Woman in matters of taste, personal culture and the perfect aptitude of the hand and eye for tender, painstaking works. With embroidery, which men so like to call a laughable attribute of the activity-seeking feminine hand, mechanically dull handiwork becomes an independent, fanciful, clever and expressively stimulating work of art.103

It was therefore due to their special aptitude for the nature of the work in these realms— originally attributed to women due to their supposed lack of originality—that they excelled at displaying their creativity and individuality. As was frequently the case, the opportunities available to women in the decorative arts were borne out of stereotypical notions of the limitations of the female artist. These artists, however, used their open negotiation of these stereotypes to enter realms from which they had previously been excluded: professionalization, avant-garde expression, and high art.

For these exhibitions, Flechtheim brought together decorative artists from the

Rhineland and Westphalia, offering a local contrast to the internationalist tenor of the rest of the exhibitions. Concentrated mainly in the second exhibition, there was a wide range of media, including embroidery, weaving, book art, glass painting, and dolls. Among the decorative artists were Marta Worringer, Irma Goecke, Ifine Gruben, Luise Hellersberg,

Irmgard and Walpurga Reismann-Grone, Marga Simons, and Claire Selmair-Volkhart.

The strong presence of the decorative arts at these exhibitions served several purposes.

102 P.A.S., ―Die Frau und die neue Kunst.‖ 103 Ibid.

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First it reflected Düsseldorf‘s status as a center for the Decorative arts, underscored by the presence of former Decorative Arts School students, such as Irma Goecke and

Gertrud Klihm. Second, by pairing the decorative arts with the ‗high arts,‘ much like the

Gilde at the Sonderbund, it helped to raise the legitimacy of the media. In a similar fashion, it improved the general perception of female artists to provide examples of those who had achieved both professional success and financial independence.

For example, by the time of this exhibition Claire Selmair Volkhart (1886-1935) had already been designing and exhibiting ceramics and bronzes for eight years. Her professional path in the decorative arts was in many ways typical for her generation.

Born to a prominent artist family in Düsseldorf,104 Volkhart trained with the sculptor

Rudolf Bosselt at the Düsseldorf Decorative Arts School and Cipri Bermann in Munich, along with study trips to Paris and Rome.105 In 1911, Volkhart‘s work was well received at the Grosse Ausstellung in Düsseldorf, where she exhibited two bronzes. Volkhart became active in 1912 as a porcelain designer for the Kunstabteilung of the renowned

Rosenthal Company. One example of her designs from this early period was her

Tanzgruppe (Dancers, fig. 62) from 1912. The work depicts three dancing women—or

Three Graces, as the piece was also known—in a round of flowing crinolines.

Flechtheim acquired a bronze version of the Dancers and exhibited it in his gallery at a

1914 group exhibition, along with another porcelain figurine, one cast, and five dolls.106

He then included it in the 1919 Frauen exhibition, along with a wax figure entitled Hirt

104 Her father Max (1848-1924) and her grandfather Wilhelm (1815-1876) were both painters who had trained at the Düsseldorf Academy. 105 Thieme-Becker, Bd. 34, s.v. ―Claire Volkhart,‖ 521. 106 See Maximilien Luce. Otto Sohn-Rethel. April 18 to May 8, 1914 (Düsseldorf: Galerie Alfred Flechtheim, 1914).

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(Shepherd), where one critic praised Volkhart‘s sculpture as ―individual, sensation-rich creations.‖107

Porcelain, like other examples of the decorative arts, served as one of the few acceptable avenues of participation for women in Germany. Manufacturers such as

Rosenthal (founded in 1879) and the Schwarzburger Werkstätten für Porzellankunst

(founded in 1909) supplied porcelain vases, figurines, lamp stands, and other decorative objects to a growing middle class. Although the design of porcelain for mass production remained a largely male-dominated field, female decorative artists played an increasing role. The practice by German porcelain manufacturers of giving commissions for individual designs rather than hiring full-time designers led to a wider pool of artists and helped begin to open up the field to women. In the early years of the Schwarzburger

Werkstätten (1910-1913), at least three of the twenty-four designers were women.108

From 1913 to 1929, Volkhart carried out 14 designs for the Schwarzburger Werkstätten für Porzellankunst, established in Thuringia in 1909.109 In addition to Volkhart,

Düsseldorf artist Martha Schlameus (1876-1961) designed over 130 works, often with

Chinese and Japanese themes, for the manufacturer beginning in 1912, as well as supervised porcelain painting when the factory moved to Volkstedt in Thuringia.

Another Düsseldorfer, Hilde Offermann, later contributed three designs. The increased inclusion of women resulted from both their greater access to formal training as well as the recognition that women were the new consumers of these products.

107 P.A.S. ―Die Frau und die neue Kunst.‖ 108 Dieter Zühlsdorff, Markenlexikon Band 1, Porzellan und Keramik Report 1885-1935 (Stuttgart: Arnoldsche, 1988), 630. 109 Susanne Wallner, ―Schwarzburger Künstler und ihre Modelle. Kurzbiografien, Künstlersignaturen Werkverzeichnis,‖ in Schwarzburger Werkstätten für Porzellankunst, ed. Wilhelm Siemen (Hohenburg/Eger: Museum der Deutschen Porzellanindustrie, 1993), 318.

202

The role of women as consumers opened up avenues in other fields in the applied arts as well, such as textiles and jewelry. As with Claire Volkhart, the exhibition of the works of Irma Goecke (1895-1976) provided examples not only from the female- dominated realm of embroidery, but also of a professionally successful artist. Born in

Paris to a German mother and Belgian father, Goecke moved to Düsseldorf in 1914, where she attended the Decorative Arts School from 1914-1916, where she studied under

Ernst Aufseeser. After a year in Berlin at the Unterrichtsanstalten of the Decorative Arts

School, Goecke returned to Düsseldorf, where she ran her own atelier for textile design and execution and its private school. At Flechtheim‘s Frauen exhibition, Goecke exhibited three embroidered works, along with a small pillow, book art, and a watercolor.

One of the embroidered works (fig. 63) presented a decorative composition of fanciful figures, plants, and animal motifs in a nautical theme, while another depicted a fisherman perched atop a bridge and hoisting his catch.

Goecke‘s work, along with the other examples of decorative art from these exhibitions, was well received. This praise, however, was frequently circumscribed, with critics being sure to ‗contain‘ female artistic success within the boundaries of ornamental expression. Paul Alexander Schettler wrote in the Rheinisch-Westfälische

Zeitung, ―Irma Goecke‘s embroidered creations are appealing; her perspective is entirely ornamental, and her representations are full of poetry and color‖; he called her work

―feminine and yet individual.‖110

Such terms may seem and are, in fact, limiting. However, being cast in these terms did at times paradoxically create opportunities for women. Most notably, these

―feminine‖ characteristics corresponded with many admired attributes of German

110 P.A.S., ―Die Frau und die neue Kunst.‖

203

Expressionism, a then-emergent movement. The decorative and emotive elements of

German Expressionism were seen as compatible with the skills of the female artist.

Schettler wrote:

Embroidered patterns are being designed with new, fanciful stylized ornament. Expressionism breaks the form of nature and creates a new world of expression. Such is also the creator of ornament: the cube of the circle, the accentuated contour, the starkly colored surface, the departure from naturalistic copying, the grotesque distortion and exaggeration of pictorial motif. This all meets extraordinarily in the decorative arts as the agreeable play of ornament and therefore an activity appropriate for the female character.111

This concept that women were well suited for expressionist art did not result in their broader acceptance into the realm of painting, as it was frequently cast in terms of delimiting acceptable art for women. Schettler argued, ―It is therefore incomprehensible why women should not cultivate this purposefully appointed art in its blossoming, why driven by such ambition they enter into competition with Man in things which he is by nature superior.‖112 For many conservative critics, the compatibility of Expressionism with women‘s limited talents simply served to reaffirm their skepticism about

Expressionism and abstract art more generally. For more progressive critics however, it provided an opening.

The confluence between Expressionism and female artistic production was ideological as well as stylistic. The progressive and outsider self-image of the

Expressionists, in particular their independence from formal academic training and institutions like the Malkasten, made the movement more open to the inclusion of women.

The emergence of expressionist groups such as the Junges Rhineland in Düsseldorf gave women opportunities for participation in groups with cross-regional significance. While

111 Ibid. 112 Ibid.

204 the numbers of women were admittedly small, it did include positions of leadership: Irma

Goecke, for example, served on the board of the Junges Rheinland in addition to being a founding member. Also, the movement‘s greater acceptance of the decorative arts made it more hospitable to women. Expressionism frequently employed elements of the decorative arts, not only as explorations of ornamentation and abstraction, but also for the symbolic import of traditional art forms. Applied art techniques, such as embroidery and glass painting, were frequently employed by Expressionists (both male and female) to convey intense emotion. The incorporation of folk art had been an element of

Expressionism since its inception in the first decade of the century by Kandinsky and his

Blauer Reiter group as well as in later experiments by August Macke with glass painting and embroidery designs. Applied art forms such as embroidery intensified the intimate and personal nature of the images, particularly in sacred art. Flechtheim‘s exhibitions displayed the range of expression possible with these sacred embroidered works, from the abstract, curvilinear forms of the Holy Family in Worringer‘s Stitched Image to the extreme angularity and medieval horror conveyed in Hellersberg‘s Crucifixion (figs. 8 and 15). The intersection between Expressionism and the decorative arts gave female artists opportunities for individual promotion and recognition—both as designers and executors—by using media for which they had already received collective acceptance.

Another emerging field for women in Germany was photography. Ilse Forberg

(1894-1971) was, however, the only photographer included in these exhibitions and in all likelihood the only professional female photographer in Düsseldorf at the time. Forberg had her own atelier (fig. 64), where she concentrated largely upon portraiture. Her image of Heinrich Nauen (fig. 65) was shown in the second Frauen exhibition—a portrait that

205 also served to reinforce Flechtheim‘s canon of Rhenish artists. Reviews praised

―excellent artistic photography‖113 and her ―admirable, artfully composed photographic likenesses.‖114 The fact that photography was not represented in the academy system created a more level playing field for the entry of women, where they would later also find opportunities in photojournalism and in fashion.115

In addition to the critical recognition, for many artists these exhibitions also had a vital financial benefit. As Marta Worringer confided in a letter to the German literature scholar Samuel Singer, a family friend, ―At the same time, I am also earning a fortune. I sold [works] for 2000 Marks at a Düsseldorf exhibition in 14 days. You are amazed, right?‖116 These Frauen exhibitions were also important for female artists who, though already professionally successful, had yet to receive critical recognition or attention from a broader audience. The opportunity for promotion was especially valuable for those artists whose primary work presented challenges for individual exhibition. Gertrud

Klihm (1883-1961, fig. 66), for example, was a highly prolific designer and ―artistic adviser‖ from 1907-1920 at the Düsseldorf Schauspielhaus, one of the most progressive theater houses in Germany.117

At this private theater, founded by Louise Dumont and Gustav Lindemann in

1904, Klihm designed costumes and some stage scenery, as well as programs and the frontispiece for its bi-monthly theater journal Masken. Her costumes reflected a high

113 ―Bildende Kunst in Düsseldorf,‖ Kölnische Zeitung, October 13, 1919. 114 ―Von unseren Ausstellungen,‖ Düsseldorfer Nachrichten, (Morgen), October 12, 1919. 115 The Lette Association for the Encouragement of Women's Employment (Lette-Verein) began training women in 1890 in scientific photography, for X-rays and microphotography. Photography was never taught at Düsseldorf Decorative Arts School, and the Bauhaus would not establish its photography class for another decade. 116 Marta Worringer to Samuel Singer, as quoted in Helga Grebing, Die Worringers: Bildungsbürgerlichkeit als Lebenssinn – Wilhelm und Marta Worringer (1881-1965) (Berlin: Parthas Verlag, 2004), 48. 117 Interview with Michael Matzigkeit, archivist, Düsseldorf Theater Museum, August 2009.

206 degree of skill and intricate designs, as evidenced by her costume for Dumont‘s Lady

Macbeth (fig. 67). Trained at the Decorative Arts School, Klihm, along with prominent artists such as August Macke and Peter Behrens, was one of several artists active at both the Decorative Arts School and the Schauspielhaus. Klihm exhibited twelve woodcuts in the Frauen exhibition, which, as noted earlier, evinced a scenery-like quality with their subject matter primarily focused upon nature and the female figure. Following this exhibition and her participation in the Junges Rheinland exhibition, Klihm began work as an illustrator, in a publication of verse (Kränze einem Kind gewunden) by her lover Hans

Franck in 1925 and in 1930 for the series Deutsche Heimat in Wort und Bild, in its

Nordsee edition. The Frauen exhibition and these later projects allowed her to reach a wider audience and gain recognition for her work.

The attention brought to these women by the exhibition was further bolstered by the artistic significance that the catalogues gained in their own right. These catalogues, as was noted in Cicerone,

provide not only a guide through the exhibitions, rather also offer literary morsels that will soon gain historical value for the art historical development of the time. In this vein, it unites an abundance of interesting notices on contemporary art with articles on Rhenish art politics, which the art lover follows with interest. The small catalogues should henceforth be paid notice beyond Düsseldorf in the circles of collectors and artists.118

These catalogues were later expanded in 1921 to become the publication Der Querschnitt.

Called ―the only German journal of true European character,‖ it remained a critical venue for Flechtheim‘s galleries and female and local artists throughout the 1920s under its editor, Hermann von Wederkopp (1924-1931).119 Der Querschnitt would remain a vital

118 Der Cicerone 11, Hft. 21 (November 1919), as quoted in Julius Bretz, 7 to 31 December 1919, (Düsseldorf: Galerie Flechtheim, 1919), np. 119 Hans von Wedderkop, ―Der Siegeszung des ‗Querschnitt,‘‖ Der Querschnitt 4 (1924): 90.

207 forum for French and Rhenish art, as well as German Expressionism, even though

Flechtheim‘s attention was soon to shift elsewhere. Not only was he forced to temporarily cease his gallery exhibitions in 1921 due to the imposition of a luxury tax, but Flechtheim himself was expelled from the Rhineland by the French and Belgian occupying forces in March 1921.120 In October, Flechtheim opened a new gallery in

Berlin, which did not retain his earlier focus upon French and Rhenish artists, heeding the warning of fellow gallerist Daniel-Henry Kahnweiler: ―In no way should you base your

Berlin business in French and Rhenish [art] alone—otherwise one will take you for a separatist.‖121

As for the artists in the Frauen exhibitions, Klihm was not the only artist to have continued success following the Frauen exhibitions. In this first generation, many embarked on careers in teaching. Irma Goecke, for example, after her training in

Düsseldorf in Aufseeser‘s class, began a long career in 1920 as a teacher for textile art, leading the Textilfachklasse at the Meisterschule des Deutschen Handwerks in Dortmund from 1920 to 1940. Then from 1941 to 1966, she served as artistic director of the

Nürnberger Gobelin-Manufaktur. In the years following the Frauen exhibitions, as her exclusive dealer in Germany, Flechtheim negotiated the sale of two of Laurencin‘s lithographs to German museums, and her work was one of the most frequently

120 Flechtheim‘s expulsion was actually the result of a bureaucratic misunderstanding. See Stephan von Wiese, ―Der Kunsthändler als Überzeugungstäter: Daniel-Henry Kahnweiler und Alfred Flechtheim,‖ in Alfred Flechtheim: Sammler. Künsthändler. Verleger., 51. 121 Letter from Daniel-Henry Kahnweiler to Alfred Flechtheim on February 18, 1921, as quoted in von Wiese, 51.

208 reproduced in Der Querschnitt.122 Claire Selmair-Volkhart had married and settled in

Munich, where she continued her focus on small wax dolls that were intricately dressed in colorful costumes. In her later work, the wax dolls became more elongated and adopted religious imagery and were displayed on a rounded plinth. Writing in Deutsche

Kunst und Dekoration in 1923, Ferdinand Götz described the intricacy of her wax dolls:

fifty gradated colors, self-produced with untold effort… [with] pearls, small chains, feathers and silk and satin, brocade and tulles, laces, furs and linens, buttons and braids. But this is only the external apparatus, which would drive those unbidden into the arms of blatant dilettantism. Here it is merely a means to an end, an end that serves an idea which is ultimately almost more related to sculpture in the purest sense than to the decorative arts.123

This review shows not only the increasing recognition for Volkhart but also the growing acceptance that artists, and in particular female artists, could display artistic originality in media that were previously considered the realm solely of copyists. It also reveals, however, that the decorative arts were still plagued by the perceived threat of dilettantism.

It was following this exhibition that women were to enroll as students of the Düsseldorf

Academy.

Flechtheim‘s efforts at promoting female artists were always embedded within his broader project of advancing Rhenish identity. The nature of that promotion and the idealized images it used frequently created avenues of opportunity for female artists. The

Rhineland‘s close associations with France, traditions of decorative and applied arts, and an identity centered around spiritualism, home and hearth, and nature all lent themselves

122 Two paintings went to the Hamburger Kunsthalle in 1920 and one to the Wuppertal Von Der Heydt Museum in 1922. See Gerhard Leistner, ―Nachgewiesene Museumsverkäufe durch die Galerie Flechtheim,‖ in Alfred Flechtheim: Sammler. Künstler. Verleger., 129. 123 Ferdinand Götz, ―Wachsfiguren von Claire Selmair,‖ Deutsche Kunst und Dekoration: illustrierte Monatshefte für moderne Malerei, Plastik, Architektur, Wohnungskunst und künstlerische Frauen-Arbeiten 26, Hft. 7 (August 1923): 305-306.

209 to a greater, albeit frequently highly stereotyped, acceptance of female artistic production.

Female artists were able to exploit, expand, and destabilize these tropes in order to assert their own artistic, stylistic and, ideational realms. In many ways, these Frauen exhibitions marked the cusp of recognition for female artists in Düsseldorf after World

War I, in which this first generation of artists with access to training in the decorative arts would give way to the image of the independent female artist of the 1920s the iconic

Neue Frau. These Neue Frau artists would challenge and even reject many of the tropes of femininity and sexuality that the prior generation had to negotiate more cautiously. It was, however, this earlier negotiation that had created for female artists both a space in which to operate and a foundation for their growing acceptance and participation in the coming decades.

210

ILLUSTRATIONS

Figure 1 Carl Joseph Begas, Lureley, 1835, Kreismuseum Heinsberg

211

Figure 2 Photograph of the Venusteich, Germanenzug, 1877, Künstler Verein Malkasten, Düsseldorf

212

Figure 3 Peter von Cornelius, Hagen versenkt den Nibelungenhort (Hagen Sinks the Nibelung Treasure), 1859, Staatliche Museen zu Berlin – Preußischer Kulturbesitz, Alte Nationalgalerie

213

Figure 4 Eduard Jakob von Steinle, Loreley, 1864, Schack-Galerie, Munich

214

Figure 5 Friedrich Wilhelm Marterstieg, Loreley, c. 1872, Archiv St. Goarshausen

215

Figure 6 Philipp Veit, Germania, 1848, Germanisches Nationalmuseum Nuremberg

216

Figure 7 Emanuel Leutze, Fest der deutschen Einheit (Festival of German Unity), 1848, Künstler Verein Malkasten, Düsseldorf

217

Figure 8 Lorenz Clasen, Germania auf der Wacht am Rhein (Germania Keeping Watch on the Rhine), 1860, Kaiser Wilhelm Museum Krefeld

218

Figure 9 Johannes Schilling, model of the Niederwald Monument, 1875, Bismarck-Museum, Friedrichsruh

219

Figure 10 Karl Janssen and Johannes Tüshaus, Vater Rhein und seine Töchter (Father Rhine and his Daughters), 1897, Düsseldorf

220

Figure 11 Gustav Rutz, Düsselnixe (Düssel Nymph), c. 1898, Düsseldorf

221

Figure 12 Reinhold Begas, detail of Rhine nymph, Neptunbrunnen (Neptune Fountain), designed 1878, executed 1886-91, Berlin

222

Figure 13 Fig. 12, Hans Thoma, Das Rheintal bei Säckingen (The Rhine Valley Near Säckingen), 1899, Staatliche Kunsthalle Karlsruhe

223

Figure 14 Catalogue of the 1910 Rhein im Bild exhibition, Verband der Kunstfreunde in den Ländern am Rhein

224

Figure 15 Moritz von Schwind, Vater Rhein spielt die Fiedel Volkers (Father Rhine Playing Volker‟s Fiddle), c. 1865, Schack-Galerie Munich

225

Figure 16 Peter Becker, Rhine landscape, 1890, 1910 Rhein im Bild exhibition

226

Figure 17 Emilie Preyer, Früchtestillleben mit Blumen im Glas und Sektschale (Fruit Still Life with Flowers in a Glass and Champagne Goblet), undated, Galerie Paffrath, Düsseldorf

227

F

Figure 18 Photograph of Magda Kröner, undated, Düsseldorf Stadtarchiv

228

Figure 19 Magda Kröner, Stilleben (Still Life), 1904, Kunstmuseum Düsseldorf im Ehrenhof

229

Figure 20 Photo of Hanny Stüber in her atelier, 1908, Frauen-Kultur-Archiv, Heinrich-Heine- Universität Düsseldorf

230

Figure 21 Advertisement for painting school of Hanny Stüber and Else Neumüller, Neue Deutsche Frauen-Zeitung, 1909

231

Figure 22 Studies, advanced class for Ornamental and Figural Woodcutting, Düsseldorf Decorative Arts School, Jahresbericht über die Kunstgewerbeschule zu Düsseldorf, 1883-1893

232

Figure 23 Diploma of Gertrud Eckermann, March 1907, Düsseldorf Decorative Arts School, Private collection

233

Fig. 24 Nature studies (butterfly wings), Bruckmüller class, Düsseldorf Decorative Arts School, Dekorative Kunst 7 (1904)

234

Figure 25 Batik and weaved textiles, Ehmcke class, Düsseldorf Decorative Arts School, Dekorative Kunst 7 (1904)

235

Fig. 26 Gertrud Eckermann, Gobelin Tapestry, c. 1909, Ring, Hft. 3 (February 1909), Private collection

236

Figure 27 Photograph of Anna Simons writing with a quill pen, 1932

237

Figure 28 Anna Simons, 4th edition translation of Johnson‘s 1905 manual, Writing and Illuminating, and Lettering

238

Figure 29 Anna Simons, script for architrave of the German Reichstag, Berlin, installed 1916

239

Figure 30 Photograph of Anna Simons teaching at the Düsseldorf Academy, 1933

240

Figure 31 Otto Dix, Bildnis der Kunsthändlerin Johanna Ey (Portrait of the Dealer Johanna Ey), 1924, Private collection

241

Figure 32 Fritz Westendorp, Johanna Ey als Hebamme bei der Geburt des “Jungen Rheinland” (Johanna Ey as Midwife to the Birth of the Young Rhineland), 1919, Museum Kunstpalast Düsseldorf

242

Figure 33 Else Deusser-Albert, Hyazinthe (Hyacinths), date and location unknown, 1910 Sonderbund catalogue

243

Figure 34 Ottilie Reylaender, Zitronenbaum (Lemon Tree), 1908/09, unlocated, 1910 Sonderbund catalogue

244

Figure 35 Milly Steger, Schreitendes Mädchen (Striding Girl), date and location unknown, 1910 Sonderbund catalogue

245

Figure 36 Fritz Helmuth Ehmcke, placard for the 1910 Sonderbund exhibition

246

Figure 37 Floor plan of the 1910 Sonderbund exhibition

247

Figure 38 Photograph of Emma Volck, undated

248

Figure 39 Emma Volck, Batik Pillow, 1909/10, Germanisches Nationalmuseum Nuremberg

249

Figure 40 Anneliese Wildeman, Flügeldecke (Piano Cover), date and location unknown, 1912 Sonderbund catalogue

250

Figure 41 Johan Thorn Prikker, 1911, Der Künstler als Lehrer für Handel und Gewerbe (The Artist as Teacher for Trade and Commerce), Hagen Train Station

251

Figure 42 Gertud Engau, Batik Shawl, c. 1909, unlocated, Ring, Hft. 3 (February 1909)

252

Figure 43 Ernst Te Peerdt, Fischköderfangen am Inn (Catching Fish Bait on the Inn), 1892, Galerie Paffrath, Düsseldorf

253

Figure 44 Heinrich Nauen, Die Ernte (The Harvest), 1909-10, unlocated

254

Figure 45 Heinrich Nauen, Gartenbild (Garden), Drove Cycle, 1913, Städtisches Museum Abteiberg, Mönchengladbach

255

Figure 46 Marie von Malachowski, Vase mit Kapuzinerkresse (Vase with Nasturtium), c. 1910, Private collection

256

Figure 47 Photograph of the Flechtheim Gallery, Königsallee 34, Düsseldorf

257

Figure 48 Paula Modersohn Becker, Kinderwagen (Children‟s Buggy), c. 1904, unlocated

258

Figure 49 Advertisement for the Flechtheim Gallery, Kunstblatt, Hft. 5 (May 1921)

259

Figure 50 Marie Laurencin, Les jeunes Filles (The Young Girls), c. 1913, unlocated

260

Figure 51 Marta Worringer, Gesticktes Bild (Embroidered Image), date and location unknown

261

Figure 52 Marie Laurencin, Hôtel de la Marine, 1914, Estate of Marie Laurencin

262

Figure 53 Marie Laurencin, La Dame au mouchoir (Woman with Handkerchief), date and location unknown

263

Figure 54 Gertrud Klihm, Holzschnitt (Woodcut), date and location unknown

264

Figure 55 Marie Laurencin, Les Sirènes (Sirens), 1920, Estate of Marie Laurencin

265

Figure 56 Marie Laurencin, La Chevauchée ou les Amazones (The Amazons), 1921, Estate of Marie Laurencin

266

Figure 57 Gertrud Kaiser, Salome, undated and unlocated

267

Figure 58 Luise Hellersberg, Kreuzigung (Crucifixion), date and location unknown

268

Figure 59 Hedwig Petermann, Expulsion from Eden, date and location unknown

269

Figure 60 Marie Laurencin, Sommer (Summer), 1921, Universitats- und Landesbibilothek Düsseldorf

270

Figure 61 Marie Laurencin, Self-Portrait, 1920, Hamburger Kunsthalle

271

Figure 62 Claire Volkhart, Tanzgruppe (Dancers), 1912, unlocated

272

Figure 63 Irma Goecke, Fischer (Fisher), date and location unknown

273

Figure 64 Advertisement for atelier of Ilse Forberg, 1919, II. Frauen Exhibition Catalogue

274

Figure 65 Ilse Forberg, Heinrich Nauen, date and location unknown

275

Figure 66 Willy Frohsinn, photograph of Gertrud Klihm, Düsseldorfer Theaterwoche 2, Hft. 28 (1911)

276

Figure 67 Gertrud Klihm, costume design for Lady Macbeth, 1911, Archiv Düsseldorf Theatermuseum

277

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