Posts Tagged ‘Der Krieg’

Otto Dix: The Evil Eye

November 20, 2017

I’ve been a fan of this German artist for a long time, since seeing some of his work in Stuttgart years ago, and even more since I saw his series of etchings Der Krieg (The War) at the museum of the First World War in Peronne a few years ago. So I was thrilled to be able to see a major exhibition at Tate Liverpool last month, and to get this book, which accompanied the exhibition.

I hadn’t really realised how versatile an artist he was: pen and ink drawings, watercolours, oil and tempera paintings, etchings; in your face anti-bourgeois art featuring prostitutes and sexual violence, beautifully illustrated scrapbooks for his children, astonishing portraits as bread-and-butter work, powerfully graphic anti-war drawings, and while in internal exile during the Nazi era, more spiritual landscapes…

It’s still the anti-war etchings that grip me most, though. He was on the Western Front and survived, marked by his experiences and yet at the same time conscious of a kind of exhilaration in them, which of course he would never have been able to express had he not come through alive… The etchings are mostly very graphic, and horrifyingly violent – indeed one, of a German soldier raping a Belgian nun, a story which featured widely in atrocity propaganda of the time, was suppressed from the opening exhibition on the grounds that the authorities would immediately have used it as an excuse to ban the entire exhibition… There are fifty etchings, using a range of techniques, in five folios in all, presenting a wide range of aspects of the horrors of the Great War.

As I’ve remarked else where, because of my relative lack of knowledge of art, techniques and terminology, I do find it hard to articulate my responses to much of what I see, other than saying, well, I like it, or, it appeals to me… I have found that good art makes me stop and look carefully, think and reflect; it often draws me back to it. I won’t know why, exactly, but this arresting effect feels important. I think it is akin to my response to a good deal of modern poetry: I am brought up short by being made to see something with a different eye, from a different perspective. And surely, this is the gift of a great artist or writer, to make us see afresh, anew?

The Art Museum

December 11, 2015

61IMIf4BSBL._AA160_I’ve been thinking about my preferences in art as I’ve leafed through the pages of this enormous book again. I bought it a couple of years ago as I realised that, being retired, I had more time to devote to exhibitions and galleries that I previously had. It is as near as you can get to a single volume guide to the world’s art and its history, although it has vaarious flaws, which I’ll get on to eventually…

For some reason, I’ve come to enjoy ancient Egyptian art, particularly statues and sculptures, and a recent visit to the Neues Museum in Berlin was wonderful, although I did come away with the feeling that the only reason the Germans hadn’t brought the pyramids back was that they were probably a bit too big… I suspect my interest dates from seeing the first Tutankamun exhibition at the British Museum in 1972.

Over the years I’ve come to enjoy the impressionists a great deal, and have fallen in love with German romantics like Caspar David Friedrich, but my greatest pleasure at the moment comes from Turner‘s paintings, watercolours and sketches. But then there are also unexpected, one-off discoveries, like the astonishing Otto Dix series Der Krieg, based on his experiences of the First World War. My tastes are very catholic, as you can see. And modern printing technology allows books of reproductions of very high quality.

As I thought about what I liked, what gave me pleasure or spoke to my condition, I also wondered about what I didn’t like, or, more accurately, felt I couldn’t access or understand. Some art I find so culturally distant from what I have grown up with that it is hard to approach or understand – the art of Africa, India, South East Asia or the Pacific, for instance; I find European and Middle Eastern art much easier on the eye and the brain. In a slightly different way, I have also felt that, upon reflection, time is also important: I find a lot of religious art, particularly paintings (sculpture and architecture less so) too austere and remote, and most portraiture from the sixteenth, seventeenth and eighteenth centuries leaves me totally cold and uninterested. This, I think, is because it strove to be representative, and, in a post-photography age, it just doesn’t work for me at all.

Everything is in this book, in small doses sometimes, and overdone at others. My first gripe is that, when I’m looking at pictures, I’d like to know where I can go and see the original: that information is clearly given, but in an appendix at the back of the book, and this book is so large that quickly flicking to the back just isn’t an option. By the time I got to the end of thebook, I felt that there was an undue emphasis on recent – late twentieth century – art and sculpture, whereas earlier eras were a bit skimmed over. Or is it just that there is so much more art being created now, a greater variety and more experimentation? How subjective is the selection made by the editors? Picures and scupltures are reproduced in high quality, and there is a very informative glossary, annotation and location of every work ‘exhibited’ in the book. It will continue to be a useful companion in the future, though I suspect it won’t stop me acquiring other, more detailed collections of particular artists’ works.

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