Showing posts with label Egon Schiele. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Egon Schiele. Show all posts

11/11/2023

Panic Expressionism

 “Man is a rope, fastened between animal and Superman – a rope over an abyss… What is great in man is that he is a bridge and not a goal; what can be loved in man is that he is a going-across and a going down. I love those who do not know how to live except their lives be a down-going, for they are those who are going across. I love the great despisers for they are the great venerators and arrows of longing for the other shore.”                   

Fredrick Nietzsche, Thus Spoke Zarathustra.  

“Art that is anarchic and nihilistic as dada was, does not need to be taught in a school; but if it is, there is no particular harm… But some art is threatened and even destroyed by studio classrooms. A prime example is German expressionism and the various expressionisms that have developed from it… German expressionism, and some other kinds of German expressionisms that developed from it… depended on not thinking about some questions that art students everywhere learn to think about… German expressionism, and some other kinds of expressionism, depend on not thinking about the kinds of things that are routinely taught in studio-classes… (From a teacher’s point of view, it’s hard to imagine how to teach such a style to artists except by putting them under some kind of hypnosis and asking them to forget everything they know..).. when I was teaching the art history survey, I used to tell the Neo-Expressionist students to drop out of school. I think I’d still say that if I were teaching the survey today: it’s the only honest thing to do.”   

James Elkins, Why Art Cannot Be Taught. Illinois: University of Illinois Press, P.76 &78, 2001.

Expressionism more than any artistic movement dismays and baffles the public who cannot understand why someone would want to draw and paint so ‘badly’ and make such ‘ugly’ work. They are also baffled that such artists are admired by the art establishment. Expressionist art seems to the ignorant public to attack all their accepted notions of truth, beauty, and art. Even conceptual art is often more admired because it confirms an intellectual and rational view of art and the world. Moreover, the character of the Expressionist artist is also attacked as immature, narcissistic, egotistical, monstrous, and even insane.

Yet, since the age of fifteen, my favourite artists bar-none, have been Expressionists. I understood instinctively at fifteen that the way you looked at the world depended completely upon your psychological and emotional state. If you felt alienated, and anguished, even the most beautiful thing in the world - could take on a mocking horror. I may have come three or four generations after the proto-Expressionists and Expressionists, yet their art spoke to me as directly as if it had been painted in my day. It was a love so great it went on to encompass, Gothic, Baroque, Tribal, Outsider and Neo-Expressionist artists. My love of Expressive art is only matched, by my contempt for all but the very best intellectual or academic art.

I have based this small introduction - not on any one specific exhibition I have seen, but rather on a lifetime of looking at Expressionist art in museums, reading hundreds of books on the subject, and trying to live by its high standards of personal expression.

My favourite book on the subject was and is Michel Ragon’s L’Expressionism, published in Lausanne and Geneva in 1966 - with an introduction by Pierre Courtion. In translation, it formed part of my father’s Heron History of Art collection in our home in Howth. So, I have owned it for over fifty-two years, and it is a book so precious to me that I have kept it by my bedside throughout my life.

Ragon’s book was a populist introduction to the art of Expressionism, with an emphasis placed on the broad manifestation of Expressionism throughout Europe. Today, books on Expressionism usually talk of Expressionism as a totally German phenomenon, but as Ragon and others have shown, Expressionism was also a broader movement of loners around northern Europe. Edvard Munch was highlighted as the true father of Expressionism while Matisse’s importance is shown to be more limited. Yet at the same time, the book gave great importance to those isolated immigrants in Paris like Chagall, Modigliani, Soutine and Pascin who had developed highly personal and expressive modes of painting.  

Pierre Courtion described the nature of Expressionism in the intro: “I hate the movement that displaces lines, said the poet. The Expressionist artist could be said to affirm the opposite. Expressionism is to the eye what a scream is to hearing. Surely this is an artist’s basic gift? “Expression comes long before execution and design”, wrote Diderot in his Salon of 1776. In order to achieve this execution and design, the artist must practise repetitiously, keep to the rules and draw on his experience, whereas his initial instinct is to affirm his individuality straight away. Art, to remain vital, must constantly have its balance reassessed and reorganized, and like the air-bubble in the carpenter’s level, it can never be steady for long. Deriving in certain ways from Baroque, of which it was a technical extension, Expressionism gave new life and vigour to a conventional art. Like Baroque, Romanticism and Realism, Expressionism has always been present as a homoeopathic dose in the creation of all important art.” (Pierre Courthion, Expressionism, Heron History of Art, 1968, P.7.)

The tedious academic Merit Werenskiold (b.1942) in her anal work ‘The Concept of Expressionism: Origin and Metamorphoses’, (1984) attacked Ragon’s books historical inaccuracy and overplaying of Expressionisms origin in protest and screams of expression. It was a strange claim made by one of the worst authors on Expressionism I have ever read. For I agreed with Ragon when he declared: “Expressionism is the opposite of art for art’s sake. Human problems always assume much greater importance in it than artistic ones. That is at once its strength and its weakness. In trying to demonstrate too much and shout too loud, Expressionism has sometimes slid into caricature, a danger which Van Gogh dreaded in his own paining. But all art contain an intrinsic risk of failure: Expressionism’s stumbling-block as caricature, as Abstract art’s was decorativeness. Only the great creators were able to avoid these pitfalls... Expressionism is primarily a protest, an outcry by young men torn apart by their aspirations and the strict morality of a moribund society which thought it was immortal.” (Michel Ragon, Expressionism, Heron History of Art, 1968, P.11.)

The fundamental difference between Michel Ragon and Merit Wernskiold, was between; being a real human being in love with art and artists and wise about the human condition, and being an academic; ignorant of how to actually make art, dependent entirely on second hand texts, and utterly ignorant of what it is to live in the world. Ragon’s book made the inner lives of these artists come alive, while Werenskiold’s reduced the whole movement to a shuffling of critical texts.

Wereskiold’s book claimed to be a scientific analysis of the history of Expressionism, yet that aim left me utterly enraged. Why in God’s name would you want to talk about art based on emotional intensity, in the dry nit-picking manner of a bookkeeper!

Yes, Ragon’s book was histrionic, hyperbolic and over the top in its prose, but that was in fact the best way to treat this particular subject! All of this brought home to me why so many artists have had contempt for the writings produced off the fumes of their canvases.

As a youth, I was unashamedly partisan in my belief that Expressionism was a profoundly anti-academic, anti-art-market, anti-social and anti-authoritarian movement. However, while many of its masters were tortured, many like Munch and Kirchner were also industrious self-promotors. Although there was a fad for Expressionism in the 1910s and 1980s by and large it is a tendency that has been loathed by art world insiders and a subject for mockery for the public. Moreover, success for these artists often resulted in a loss of vision, and critics have been quick to neutralize it in texts. As Donald Kuspit has pointed out: “...Expressionist emotions seem uncontainable, to the extent that they stretch the limits of social respectability and subvert social intelligibility – undermine the social mask we all wear – as though asserting their autonomous existence. For the Expressionists the primordial self – the true creative bodily self, in contrast to the false compliant social self, to use Donald Winnicott’s distinction – is incommunicado. Nonetheless, it can be expressed in the “eureka” moment of creativity.” (Donald Kuspit, The Inner Conflict of Expression, Expressive!, Foundation Beyeler, 2003, P. 12.) Just as learning the three cords of the Blues will not make you a Blues musician - so you cannot teach yourself how to be an Expressionist – you are either one or you are not. Anxiety and despair are hard to fake, since by their very nature they born of character under stress, born from events out of one’s control. Even for Expressionist painters there are periods of creative block when the paints have to be put away in defeat - and time spent in despairing thought and hopes of another period of creative release.

No other group of painters and draughtsmen have so deeply affected my art and life, and their influence is clear in all my work. Their high standards of undiluted vision, integrity, perseverance, spiritual questing, moral questioning, and social critique - shaped my concept of what it meant to be an artist. The look, feel, subject and content of my art would have never been the same, if it were not for expressive artists like; van Gogh, Schiele, Munch, Kirchner, Pollock, de Kooning, Bacon, Baselitz, Schnabel and Basquiat. So, I would like to give a brief overview of this movement and in particular its emergence in Germany and the artists of Die Bucke.  

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Expressionism is one of the most misunderstood and shapeless movements in Modern Art. The word became so loaded that many early Expressionist artists like Emil Nolde and Max Beckman, Francis Bacon and Neo-Expressionists like Georg Baselitz and Julian Schnabel tried to avoid its implications and limitations. Expressionism is the ultimate in self-sufficiency and self-involvement, which is fine on  a personal level, but it makes it difficult to make a public career for oneself, which is why those who later found success had to broaden their art out from the Expressionist cul-de-sac. In fact, no group ever called itself Expressionist, or wrote a manifesto of Expressionism.        

It has often been seen as an aberration of modernism, a regional form of reactionary art. Clement Greenberg wrote; “Picasso’s good luck was to have come to French modernism directly, without the intervention of any other kind of modernism. It was perhaps Kandinsky’s bad luck to have to go through German modernism first.” (Bassie, Ashley Expressionism. Kent: Grange Books, P. 47, 2005.) This was no casual remark, Greenberg loathed Expressionism even when he could not avoid it in the work of artists he admired like Pollock. Was this in part because of his Jewish heritage and the horrific crimes of the Nazis? If so, he was not alone in his angry chauvinism.  In fact, the Expressionists were magnets for condemnation from all quarters, left and right, German, French, American, English, Academics, Dadaists, and Abstractionists. Personally, it only made me love their work even more. To piss-off so many different artists, critics, intellectuals, and members of the public – they had to be doing something right.

Even the origin of the word’s use in art parlance is still hotly debated. Of course, all art is expressive in one way or another. Every artist aims to communicate to a public - and in the modern Western world – the general public have typically prized works of emotional power and vulnerability in their art and music. However, the art world has typically swung from an emotional approach to art and an intellectual one. For every Michelangelo there has been a Raphael, for every Caravaggio a Poussin, for every Rembrandt a Vermeer, for every Goya a David, for every Picasso a Marcel Duchamp, for every Pollock a Warhol, for every Bacon a Hockney, for every Julian Schnabel a David Salle, for every Jonathan Meese a Matthias Weischer.

Initially in the early 1900s, Expressionism was a catch-all word used to describe art that was the opposite of naturalistic Impressionism, an art that emphasized the artist’s emotions and highly subjective interpretation of reality, not his eyesight and perceptions of light.  

Various writers in the nineteenth century had begun to use the term Expressionism in their journals. As the author Lionel Richard in The Concise Encyclopaedia of Expressionism (1984) and Marit Werenskiold in The Concept of Expressionism: Origin and Metamorphoses (1984) detailed the origin of the word Expressionism is a tangled web, complicated by nationalism and professional rivalry.

Researchers like Armin Arnold dug up a mention of a modern school of expressionist painters in an article on the poet William Wordsworth in Tait’s Edinburgh Magazine in July 1850 by an anonymous writer. The article described: “the expressionist school of modern painters [who] rebuke the richness of the colourists by the conventional ideality of their Byzantine Madonnas.”

Arnold also found out that in 1880, in Manchester, Charles Howley devoted a lecture to modern painters in which he identified some as expressionists seeking to express their feelings and emotions. No mention of specific artists were made, however given the date 1850, it is likely that he was speaking of the Pre-Raphaelite’s, who were very far from what we would consider today as Expressionists.

Arnold also dug up a novel by Charles de Kay from the US called The Bohemian from 1878 – in which a group of writers who called themselves expressionists appeared. However, none of this usage defined Expressionism in sufficiently exact stylistic terms. Other historians of Expressionism like Fritz Schmalenbach rightly dismissed these discoveries as obscure and essentially meaningless.

Other historians like the Swede Teddy Brunius have found other obscure quotes. In 1891 in James McNeill Whistler’s book The Gentle Art of Making Enemies there was this quote from an unknown source: “Mr Whistler is eminently an ‘Impressionist’… We want not ‘impressionists’ but expressionists’, men who can say what they mean because they know what they have heard [Sic!]” However, this was just a play-on-words not a real critical use of the word.

In 1901 in Paris at the Salon des Independants, the minor and forgotten painter Jules-August-Herve exhibited eight canvases under the title Expressionismes. He was clearly making a nod towards Impressionism and at the same time opposing it. However, he made no impact on French art history other than perhaps preventing any serious French painters using the term again. In addition, his use of the plural suggested that he was merely describing a set of pictures and was not announcing a new movement. The term made no mark on the French art world and only entered French critical writing in 1920 when it was used to describe German Expressionists.

In Germany, in May 1910 Aby Warburg writing about late Middle Ages graphic art, in the Journal Kunst und Kunstler, used the term “expressionistisch’ in contrast to “impressionistch.” In retrospect, some said that in 1910 in Germany, when Paul Cassirer was asked if a painting by Pechstein was still an Impressionist canvas, he replied that it was an example of expressionism. A quip they say became widely used in artistic circles and later the newspapers.

Then in 1911 within the space of four months, the term Expressionism emerged in the writings of a number of writers first in England, then Norway, then Sweden and finally Berlin. It started with Arthur Clutton-Brock in England in January 1911. In The Burlington Magazine, he wrote: “Their only end is expression… And to distinguish them [the Post-Impressionists] from the Impressionists we might, perhaps, call them Expressionists, which is an ugly word, but less ugly than Post-Impressionists.” His argument was carried on by Henrik Sorensen in Norway in February, and by Carl David Moselius in Sweden in March 1911.

All of these writers used the term as a replacement for the unsatisfactory Post-Impressionist term (which no longer described much of the art in the first years of the twentieth century) – which had been coined by Roger Fry for his infamous exhibition Manet and The Post-Impressionists in the Grafton Galleries in London from November 1910 to January 1911. According to Werenskiold, Roger Fry between 1910-11 had toyed with the use of expressionism as a term to describe those artists in France between 1880-1910, like van Gogh, Gauguin and later Matisse who had developed increasingly personal imagery, subjective emotions, and idiosyncratic use of colour and brushwork in their paintings. However, Fry finally opted to call these artists ‘Post-Impressionists’. Marit Werenskiold’s theory was that Roger Fry who was a friend and mentor of Cutton-Brock and his editor on The Burlington Magazine, had prompted or encouraged Arthur Clutton-Brock to make this new distinction. She also thought that he had been influenced by the writings of Matisse in this, and she might have been right, but she was not alone in this. She also later suggested that Fry might have been the real author of the original article.

From April to September 1911, at the Berlin Sezession, one room of invited French painters including Georges Braque, André Derain, Kees van Dongen, Raoul Dufy, Othon Friesz, Henri Manguin, Albert Marquet, Picasso, and Maurice de Vlaminck, were introduced in the catalogue as Expressionists. Yet, the person responsible for the catalogue remains unknown. Writing about the show in Der Sturm, Walter Hegmann wrote: “a group of Franco-Belgian painters have decided to call themselves expressionists.” It was from this point that the term became widely used in German newspapers and it became a recognized term.

In 1919, Henry Kahnweiler (the German dealer who promoted Picasso and the Cubists in France and Europe) in the journal Das Kunstblatt, attacked the idea spreading in Germany that Expressionism was of French origin. This was at a time, when many in Germany were attacking modernism, as a corrupting French hoax on the art-world. Kahnweiler denied that the term had any usage in France. His critique was aimed at Theodor Daubler who nearly went as far as claiming that Matisse was the originator of Expressionism and that the French critic Louis Vauxelles had originated the term.

This last claim as I have mentioned has merit. Matisse’s bold, ambitious and unnaturalistic use of colour as early as 1905 predated the less daring early work of the Brücke painters who were still trying to digest the lessons of van Gogh. In 1908, Matisse’s first important exhibition of paintings were shown in Berlin. The following year Kunst und Kunstler published his now legendary ‘Painters Notes’ (first published in December 1908 in Grande Revue) in which he famously wrote: “what I am looking for above all is a means of expression.” However while there were superficial similarities between the aims of the Fauves like Matisse and Van Dongen and the German Expressionists like Kirchner and Nolde, there was also major differences of taste, feeling and purpose.

What this convoluted and tangled tale tells me, is that there was never any inventor of the term Expressionism in any meaningful sense. The closest was probably Matisse, even though his work was very different from later German Expressionism. In fact, as an authentic Expressionist, I have to say I find such academic epistemology sickening, absurd and meaningless. Expressionism was a word bandied about by many people at the turn of the twentieth century (often as a term of abuse) or used so superficially as to be nothing but slang. That it became within a few decades synonymous with Modern Art in the mind of the German public, only confirms to me that it was a catchall word, emanating from a broad Zeitgeist. What is not in doubt is that it was in Germany that this word took hold, became a rallying-cry for young artists and a politicized subject for sceptics, academics, xenophobes and later the Fascists.

As I have mentioned, today in art writing, Expressionism is usually used to describe the art of the German Expressionists and particularly the two groups of artists that formed Die Brücke in Dresden and Der Blaue Reiter in Munich. But Expressionism was never a unified movement. It was largely a dispersed group of loners living in isolation on the edge of society – like Munch in Oslo, Ensor in Ostend, Schiele in Vienna or Rouault in Paris. Moreover, it was German artists, writers, bohemians, art galleries, collectors and museums in the 1910s that first embraced these outsiders when others in Europe dismissed them as barbarians. Expressionism in Germany was not restricted to painting, drawing, sculpture and wood-cut printing, it also influenced poetry, prose, theatre, film, music and even architecture.

The Expressionist generation of 1905-23, were in direct conflict with Prussian patriarchy and their fathers in particular, this battle of wills was made most explicit in Expressionist drama and prose. This young generation of men, were sick of the hypocrisy in German society, and at the same time they feared that real social change could not be achieved. Suicides amongst young men reached epidemic proportions. “The petty-bourgeois conspiracy to hush up matters sexual, especially when they concerned the young, can be seen by the fact that Spring’s Awakening, though published in 1891, went unperformed until 1906. Nevertheless, the issue of schoolboy suicides had already become a national scandal. Indeed, “in the last twenty-years of the nineteenth century no fewer than 1, 152 adolescents thus took their own lives.”(Donald E. Gordon, Expressionism: Art and Idea. New Haven: Yale University Press, P.27, 1987.)

The Expressionist revolution in Germany was looked on with suspicion by the rest of Europe. Remember anti-German feeling in France, Britain and America from 1914-1945 was at fever pitch. Everything German was looked upon with suspicion, fear and anger, even when its artists had often been persecuted in their own country and were politically blameless.

Even in Germany, the romance with Expressionism only lasted until the end of World War One. In its aftermath, new artists like those of the Dada movement attacked it as bourgeois, decadent and politically suspect. It was finally finished-off by the Nazis when they took power in 1933. After the Second World War and DeNazification, it was restored to pride of place in German museums, however as a creative movement it had lost all its edge. Perversely the persecution of the Expressionists by the Nazi’s resulted in their rehabilitation in the post war art world and today art works that were confiscated by the Nazi’s are the most sought after works by collectors. 

It was only in the late 1960s, that the work of the German and Austrian Expressionists were rediscovered in Europe, by a young generation unbiased by experience of World War Two. For these youthful students, who were also fighting patriarchal, capitalistic and militaristic power, these young German’s spoke to them. Its massive resurgence as a commercially viable and critically respected movement in the late 1960s in Europe, Britain and America created a professorial gold rush, where all kinds of artists were roped into its pantheon, all kinds of critics tried to lay claim to its origin, and all kinds of nations tried to claim its homeland. Thus, Expressionism has always been the lump of faeces that turns into gold, back into faeces and then back into gold. It has constantly been derided by the academics when unfashionable, and parodied and copied by them when at its peak of consumption. The truly great Expressionists alone in their studios were the lie to the academic rule, that states one has to be trained, educated and socialized into making great art.

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As I have mentioned the public and critics in Paris, London and New York have always been suspicious of Expressionism. Even today, Expressionism is a byword for madness, intellectual crudeness, and art-world trouble-making. Exhibitions of Expressionist greats like Ernst Ludwig Kirchner or Max Beckman have never achieved the viewing figures or public popularity of artists like Monet, Matisse or Picasso. Artists like van Gogh, Munch and Bacon are rare examples of Expressionists - whose life and work was eventually lauded by the critics, prized by collectors, empathetically studied by the general public, and parodied in the media.          

The autonomy and indifference of the Expressionist artist, simultaneously alienated the snobs of the art world and enraged the general public who thought them con men. Yet within two generations the very best of these artists, became heroes to those who dreamed of a similarly independent life, free from the restraints, compromises and drudgery of middle-class life.

Expressionist artists deliberately worked against the grain of social order. They prized their individuality and feelings above the learned-by-rote techniques and intellectualizations of academic art. “For the Expressionists felt so strongly about human suffering, poverty, violence and passion, that they were inclined to think that the insistence on harmony and beauty in art was only born out of a refusal to be honest. The art of the classical masters, of a Raphael or Correggio, seemed to them insincere and hypocritical. They wanted to face the stark facts of our existence, and to express their compassion for the disinherited and the ugly. It became almost a point of honour with them to avoid anything which smelt of prettiness and polish, and to shock the ‘bourgeois’ out of his real or imagined complacency.” (E. H. Gombrich, The Story of Art, Pocket Edition 2006, London: Phaidon, P.437.)

In Expressionist art, the voice of the individual was raised against civilizing academic convention, social compromise, and press-speak. Expressionist painters sought to make their own psychological understanding of the world the central axis of their art. Rendering commonplace things in an unfamiliar manner, Expressionist painters highlighted the fissure between the personal and the social. As Donald Kuspit has written: “Expressionist emotional resistance to the social status quo can be traced back to Romanticism, as suggested above. The use of art as self-expression, the notion that art transmits emotion from one person to another, and the belief that the work of art is an expressive object because it embodies emotion – all these ideas are inseparable from the modern dialectic of self and society that emerged explicitly during Romanticism and endures to the present day. It envisions a self trying to hold its emotional own against a society that threatens to rob it of its individuality, desperately trying to survive in a society indifferent to its particular existence, struggling to remain inwardly vital and human in a society that exploits vitality and humanity for often inhuman collective purposes, such as war. It is a self that is critical of the society in which it finds itself – a society that it experiences as inhibiting, even stifling. It uses whatever tactics are necessary - they seem unconventional and antisocial from the viewpoint of conventional society – to vigorously express itself in the hope of loosening the grip of society on life and art. The modern theory of expression conceives it as the vector result of a dialectical tension between instinctive emotion and social repression.” (Donald Kuspit, The Inner Conflict of Expression, Expressive!, Foundation Beyeler, 2003, P. 13.)

North and Central Europe was the home of the first Expressionists. Early Expressionism of the 1900s, was the culmination of an attitude to making art that had started in the Renaissance when for the first time the reputation and personality of the artist was considered vital to its meaning, content and value. No artist signified this shift in artistic thinking more than the German master Albrecht Dürer, whose narcissism and melancholy imbued his stupendously skilled work, with a metaphysical world weariness that was groundbreaking. Indeed, the German and Flemish painters of the Northern Renaissance like Hans Baldung Grien, Albrecht Dürer, Albrecht Altdorfer, Matthias Grünewald, Hieronymus Bosch and Pieter Bruegel the Elder, were to become rediscovered by the German Expressionists, who were trying to trace the roots of their temperament. However, even the Latin cultures of Italy and Spain could lay claim to proto-Expressionists, like the late religiously tortured Michelangelo with his obsessive piles of dammed human bodies, the Venetian painter Tintoretto with his Baroque and animated canvases, and El Greco with his spatially packed and energized compositions. Personally, I date the real start of modern Expressionism to Francisco Goya’s Black Paintings of 1821-3 (housed now in the Prado Museum in Madrid.) To me they are the first major paintings to express a modern conception of man’s Godless existence in a cruel, unjust, and absurd universe.          

The three great upsurges in Expressionist art in the twentieth century, 1905, 1940 and 1980, came in periods of great social, political and economic uncertainty, and a broad fear of cultural decline.

There were many kinds of early Expressionism. First there was a pan-European, pre-Expressionism, a non-movement of isolated and highly individualistic Expressionists like Vincent van Gogh, Paul Gauguin, Edvard Munch, James Ensor, and Georges Rouault, whose work tended towards the emotional, primitive, spiritual, irrational, and subjective. 

Next in Germany there was pre-war figurative Expressionism centred around the Die Brücke group, whose early work was optimistic, idealistic, and often joyous.

They were followed by a semi-abstract form of painting evolved by the painters of Der Blaue Reiter and personified in the work of Wassily Kandinsky and Paul Klee, which was born from an Expressionist ethos that believed in the subjective, emotional, spiritual and idealistic power of art to change the world. 

Later in Germany there was a post-war figurative Expressionism, which was cynical, despairing and increasingly neurotic.

At the same time in Austria there emerged another kind of figurative Expressionism - which was more animated, sexually fixated and anguished. This Austrian Expressionism consisted of a handful of highly individualistic artists like Richard Gerstl, Oskar Kokoschka and Egon Schiele.

Meanwhile in France, there were Fauve artists’ like Matisse and Van Dongen who exhibited in Germany on numerous occasions before the First World War, and Jewish Expressionist artists’ like Mark Chagall, Amedeo Modigliani, Chaïm Soutine and Jules Pascin who lived and worked in Paris between the wars.

In South America, there was also an expressive art that mixed Western and Aztec influences with Socialist politics, to create the only credible socialist art of the twentieth century.

Added to these was the third great wave of Expressionism of the 1940s, which ranged from the abstract drips of Jackson Pollock to the aggressive abstract/figurative Expressionism of Willem de Kooning in America and the earthy brutish figuration of Dubuffet and the coiled nudes of Fautiner in Paris.

Finally in the late 1970s there was the emergence of a new Post-Modern, academic, mannered and commercialized form of Neo-Expressionism epitomized by the work of George Baselitz and Julian Schnabel whose work was heavily embedded within the new art gallery system. Thus trying to pin down Expressionism, is like trying to herd fifty cats in a canvas bag.

Expressionism was the total opposite of ‘art-for-arts-sake’. For the Expressionis, art was a compulsion, an obsession and literally a reason for living. The clichéd myth of the great Expressionist artist demanded that he must suffer for his art. Integrity was vital for the Expressionist artist, frequently it was all they had.

In the art world as in the real world, nothing sold better in the early days of modernism than a sob story. Thus, their life-stories were deemed vital to their credibility. Many of the great Expressionist artists were self-taught and unteachable, mentally unstable, anti-social and spiritually tortured. As Michel Ragon pointed out - no other movement not even Surrealism, was so closely linked with madness. While the Surrealists played and flirted with insanity, many of the greatest Expressionists were stark raving mad. Their biographies were a litany of childhood bereavement, neurosis, rejection, alcoholism, drug abuse, syphilis, poverty, isolation, public ridicule, depression, mental hospitals, attempted suicides and realized suicides.

Even if success did come, it usually resulted in a complete loss of the scared fire of their youth, and accusations of selling out. It also inflicted a fatal form of self-censorship, brought on by over-exposure. While those precious few that made a mark on art history were burdened with a mythology, hyperbole and fetishization, that made even them deeply uncomfortable. Madman or genius, worthless or priceless, fool or prophet, these were the only career options for the Expressionist. In keeping with their art, there were no grey areas. The tragedy of some of the Expressionist artists was that their burning desire to speak openly to everyone often resulted in nothing but rejection, marginalization and even deeper incomprehension.

From the earliest days of Post-Impressionism, Symbolism and later Expressionism - modern artists, were connected by many European writers with insanity, in both positive and negative terms. It began in 1863 with Cesare Lombroso’s ‘Genius and Insanity’, and his example was taken up by other studies in pathology by; Charcot, Krafft-Ebing, Magnan and continued in more nasty and frantic terms with Max Nordau’s Degeneration in 1895.

The Jewish medical doctor Nordau railed against the decadence and vulgarity of high art and mass-produced pornography. He took aim at many of the modern artistic movements of his time including the Pre-Raphaelites, Realists and Symbolists as well as writers like Zola, Tolstoy, Nietzsche and Ibsen and composers like Wagner. “From a clinical point of view somewhat unlike each other, these pathological images are nevertheless only different manifestations of a single and unique fundamental condition, to wit, exhaustion, and they must be ranked by the alienist in the genius melancholia, which is the psychiatrical symptom of an exhausted central nervous system… We stand now in the midst of a severe mental epidemic; of a sort of black death of degeneration and hysteria, and it is natural that we should ask anxiously on all sides, ‘What is to come next?’” (Quoted by Donald E. Gordon, Expressionism: Art and Idea. New Haven: Yale University Press, P. 10, 1987.)

This concern with the vulgarity of contemporary art and the new mass-produced pornography that was sold covertly everywhere in Europe, was perfectly summed up in the writings of Swiss hygienist Dr. August Forel. In his book ‘Art and Pornography’ in 1905, Dr Forel expressed similar concerns about the degeneracy of western civilization: “There are a few great artists, but thousands of charlatans and plagiarists. Many of those who have never had the least idea of the dignity of art pander to the lower instincts of the masses and not to their best sentiments. In this connection, erotic subjects play a sad and powerful part. Nothing is too filthy to be used to stimulate the base sensuality of the public… In these brothels of art, the most obscene vice is glorified, even the pathological.” (Quoted by Donald E. Gordon, Expressionism: Art and Idea. New Haven: Yale University Press, P.11, 1987.)

By 1912, artists like Paul Klee had begun to praise the art of the insane, and by the 1920s books contrasting the work of modern artists and those in mental patients emerged. Hans Prinzhorn, in his groundbreaking work ‘Artistry of the Mentally Ill’, (1922), observed that: “The particularly close relationship of a larger number of our [schizophrenics] pictures to contemporary art is obvious.” However he countered the view that self-victimizing Expressionist artists were the same as the truly victimized mentally ill marginalized by society and incarcerated in hospitals: “The conclusion that a painter is mentally ill because he paints like a given mental patient is no more intelligent or convincing than [the idea] that Pechstein and Heckel are Africans from the Cameroons because they produce wooden figurines like those by Africans from the Cameroons”.

The truly great Expressionist artists did not choose art, it possessed them like a fever. They emerged in a period of political, social, sexual, and religious crisis, the likes of which the world had never seen. Remember this was an age in Europe when many said that religious faith was moribund, God was dead, monarchy was considered by many to be decadent and corrupt, democracies were still in infancy and ideological battles about politics, religion, sexuality, female emancipation and the purpose of art was debated furiously in cafes throughout the West. Everyone could see that the growing arms race, and diplomatic hostilities amongst the great powers would lead to war. However, no one could imagine how devastating it would be when it arrived. In such uncertain and crazy times these artists fell back on the one thing they could trust their own gut. They envisioned art as a new form of religion, a brotherhood, a protest against society, a soothing balm for the desperately lonely and a utopian solution to modern life.

For the early Expressionist artists, personal, urgent communication was paramount. Their restless, agitated, linear and violently coloured work, expressed their metaphysical anxiety forcefully. The German Expressionist’s were never great innovators in terms of form. Their work was the summation and exploitation of a series of very different movements and influences; Impressionism, Symbolism, Jugendstil, Fauvism, Cubism, Orphism, Futurism, Gothic art, German Romanticism, African and Oceanic art, Folk art, naïve art and even Islamic and Oriental art. Which they both pumped up and debased, in order to create some of the most violent looking and aggressive art-works in human history. Perhaps only the Incas produced more blood-curdling works. However, that was their intention. They wanted to provoke reaction, which they hoped would expose the metal fist under the velvet glove of Western society. Remember the wealth and power of a small European elite and the growing prosperity of the middle-classes was based on Imperialistic military might, which had colonized; Africa, Asia and South America, and held down a teaming underclass in their own cities and countryside.

They hated the ultra-disciplined, highly-skilled, but unimaginative and conformist academic artists of their day, who sought to; beautify life, glorify the elite and flatter their patrons. They wanted to shake everything up, critique their society and defiantly set themselves above the dim-witted but cunning patrician class. They expressed abnormal sensibilities, uncontrollable emotions, primitive narratives and an increasingly doomed worldview. All of this was part of the increasing democratizing of art, and the new assertion of individual freedom in society.

They distorted and accentuated reality - in order to express their feelings for the world. They used violent, garish, jarring colours, often taken straight from the tube. Which they piled on with thick hog-hair brushes, amassing think trenches of impastoed paint, a tendency that reached its convulsive peak in the canvases of Soutine. They used explosive lines, drawn with haste and a heavy hand and sharp contrasts of light and shade. The subjects of their paintings were dramatic and animated – landscapes on fire with colour, seedy nocturnal street scenes, sordid brothel scenes, vulgar nudes, aggressive self-portraits, and even deeply religious or spiritual paintings.

They sought to do more than simply record the naturalistic appearance of everyday life – they sought to express a transcendent truth, often verging on the abstract, especially in the work of Der Blaue Reiter. Despite their uncertain faith, they were often deeply spiritual men, just look at van Gogh, Rouault, Nolde, or later expressive painters like Jackson Pollock, or Mark Rothko.

Many of their works verged on the unintentionally comic, a result of their very basic skill sets and lack of self-criticism. Many of their drawings were no better than that of talentless teenagers. However, the forcefulness of their expressive urges and their authentic (if naïve) sincerity raised the stakes in many of their works. They often saw themselves as Christ like figures, reviled, misunderstood and debased by the ignorant masses and cunning elites. They imagined their art as a transcendent expression of their self-hood, unmediated by social or aesthetic constraints and dogma. This was essentially a revitalization of the Romantic artists’ belief in the primacy of their own egos and spiritual quest. It was a mythology that was to be reborn in the art of the early American Abstract-Expressionist painters in the 1940s, even though they had little understanding of its German origins. The fundamental problem with this fetishization of the artist’s ‘vision’ – was that it was both presumptuous and elitist in an increasingly egalitarian society. Moreover, for every thousand artists at the turn of the century who believed they had some kind of privileged, ‘God-given’ power of expression, only a handful were equipped with the required level of skill, originality, dedication and relentless self-questioning required to make timeless and universal art.

The city as painted by the early German Expressionists took on an at first frightening and finally hellish quality unseen in art since Goya. Modern urban life in their eyes was electrifying, terrifying, hypocritical, and debased. They both loved its freedom and hated its decadence. In Kirchner’s paintings of Berlin in the early 1910s, electric lights shone on the creepy lives of men trawling the streets at night, for prostitutes who stood like coked-up, Gothic movie stars, on the lonely sidewalks. After World War 1, savage satirists like Grosz and Dix, depicted a chaotic Berlin teeming with handicapped and scared soldiers begging for money, axe murders dripping in blood, vengeful Generals, gross fat bankers fondling heartless whores, and men shooting or hanging themselves in their cold attics. Of course, there had been men who had survived the war intact in both mind and body, of course murder was rare, of course there were honourable Generals and bankers, of course there were sweet-natured and chaste women in Germany, of course suicide remained an exception. However, artists like Grosz and Dix were not concerned with reasoned discourse, the times demanded an art of protest and accusation. It may have been an art based on an ‘inner-image’ that distorted reality, but it was done with a moral purpose. Their art became a ticker-tape from the front lines of existence.

Expressionist artists like Vincent van Gogh, James Ensor, Edvard Munch, Ferdinand Hodler, Ernst Ludwig Kirchner, and Emil Nolde were typically egotistical, often technically mediocre in the traditional academic sense, and emotionally unstable. Many only worked in an Expressionist manner for a short time in their twenties and early thirties. Some like Paula Modersohn-Becker and Richard Gerstl died long before it had become a recognized movement. Some grew and developed into fully rounded masters like Max Beckman. While others like Ernst Ludwig Kirchner grew tired of the fight and their work became more decorative and conciliatory. Many like Edvard Munch and James Ensor outlived their creativity, and merely rehashed their past achievement’s. But the raw honesty of their art shone brightly in a world of fake polite paintings for fake polite people.

Many of them were sexist pigs, and their portrayal of women in their art was often cruel and misogynistic. No other artistic movement has portrayed women so savagely. Women in Expressionist paintings were typically femme fatales, fierce dominatrix’s, demonic Venuses, cunning prostitutes and overwhelming earth mothers from hell – just look at Munch, Kirchner, Grosz, Dix or later Dubuffet and de Kooning. These were old-fashioned men who often divided women into Madonna’s and whores - wives’ and prostitutes’. However at other times there was a heartbreaking tenderness to Expressionist depictions of women - just look at Kokoschka’s painting of Alma Mahler, Schiele’s paintings of his wife Edith, or Max Beckman’s paintings of his wife Quappi – and tell me these men did not have a heart.  

Moreover, if you compared their depictions of themselves and other men, you would be hard pressed to say that they did not hate themselves just as much. No one for example has ever painted fat, ugly, greedy, vicious men with such condemnation as George Grosz.

The great masters of Expressive art were in my view; Francisco Goya y Lucientes, Thèodore Géricault, Honoré Daumier, Henri de Toulouse Lautrec, van Gogh, August Strindberg, Edvard Munch, James Ensor, Lovis Corinth, Kees van Dongen, Paula Mondersohn-Becker, Richard Gerstl, Oskar Kokoschka, Egon Schiele, Ernst Ludwig Kirchner, Emil Nolde, Erich Heckel, Karl Schmidt-Rottluff, Alexei von Jawlensky, Paula, Georges Rouault, Amadeo Modigliani, Jules Pascin, Chaïm Soutine, Max Beckman, Otto Dix, George Grosz, Jackson Pollock, Willem de Kooning, Mark Rothko, Asger Jorn, Jean Atlan, Francis Gruber, Jean Fautrier, Francis Bacon, Leon Golub, George Baselitz, John Bellany, Anselm Kiefer, Frank Aurebach, Leon Kossoff, Julian Schnabel, Jean-Michel Basquiat, Chuck Connelly and Hughie O’Donoghue. These were my heroes. In their work I found a depth of feeling and perception utterly lacking in other modern art. Their styles varied enormously but what they all had in common was genuine soul.    

The tradition of Expressionist painting was also one of the few strong threads that ran through Modern Irish art. For example, Jack B. Yeats in the 1930s painted in a style similar to Chaïm Soutine, his contemporary who was working in France. Later, Neo-Expressionist Irish painters like Brian Bourke, Paul Kane, Charles Cullen, Michael Cullen, Patrick Hall, Timothy Hawkesworth, Brian Maguire, and Patrick Graham all went through Expressionist phases.

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It is easy to write about Impressionism, Cubism, and the School of Paris without ever mentioning the socio-political background to their art. One can waffle on and on about high-flown aesthetic problems and art world bitching, without ever talking about the Dreyfus Affair, The Great War or European politics. Perhaps that is one of the reasons why French art has proved hugely popular as a grand distraction from life’s intractable problems. The same cannot be said of the German Expressionists.

The fin-de-siècle world of nineteenth century Europe, was one of unprecedented technological, social, and political change. It was a time of optimism and despair. In France in 1848 and 1871 two revolutionary movements had failed, and by the end of the century, intellectuals in Europe increasingly expressed pessimistic fears for society and politics. Many thought that the western world had become decadent and would eventually succumb to the stronger races they currently colonized. Charles Darwin’s theory of sexual selection and the survival of the fittest became a fearful talking-point amongst intellectuals and a manifesto of survival for middle-class capitalists and elitist Empire builders. Throughout Europe, nationalism, class-warfare, anti-Semitism, misogyny, and racism reared their ugly heads as the power and certainty of the old elites were challenged by; a growing arms race, an unregulated financial system, the rise of Feminism, and a fear of the ‘other’. Yet apart from a few honourable men and women like Gustave Courbet, Jean-François Millet and Honoré Daumier in France and Käthe Kollwitz in Germany, only a handful of major artists of the day reflected this social upheaval, decadence, corruptness, and social unjustness’ in their art. 

In literature, writers like Fyodor Dostoevsky, Henrik Ibsen, August Strindberg, and Søren Kierkegaard all expressed this new age of subjective, religious, sexual, urban living, and moral anxiety. However, it was the philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche who became their prophet and guiding light out of a corrupted world of moral hypocrisy.

In his Notes from Underground, Fyodor Dostoevsky contrasted the materialistic ethos, of the late nineteenth century (that had culminated for him in England’s building of The Crystal Palace in 1851), against many people’s increasing search for an authentic and unbroken faith in God and pursuit of a spiritual life. Fyodor Dostoevsky’s passionate, intellectual, spiritual, and even revolutionary writings exposed the unjustness and decadency of modern life. Often as in Notes from Underground and Crime and Punishment, he did this by bringing his readers into the minds of marginalized, poverty stricken and half-mad men who still strove to find the light in lives of darkness. “I admit that two times two makes four is an excellent thing, but if we are to give everything its due, two times two makes five is sometimes a very charming thing too… As far as my own personal opinion is concerned, to care only for prosperity seems to me positively ill-bred. Whether it’s good or bad, it is sometimes very pleasant, too, to smash things. Suffering would be out of place in vaudevilles, for instance; I know that. In the “Crystal Palace” it is unthinkable; suffering means doubt, negation, and what would be the good of a “crystal palace”, if there could be any doubt about it? And yet I am sure man will never renounce real suffering, that is, destruction and chaos. Why after all, suffering, is the sole origin of consciousness… [And] consciousness, for instance, is infinitely superior to two times two makes four.” (Notes from Underground, 1864, Fyodor Dostoevsky.) This search for authentic expression was to become a key concern for the German generation of 1905.

The German character was a complex one, but it was known for its intellectualism, love of the arts and philosophy, as well as its great skill at war. Goethe spoke of this to Eckermann: “The Germans really are a strange lot, they make life unnecessarily difficult for themselves by looking for deep thoughts and ideas everywhere and putting them into everything. Just have the courage to give yourself up to the first impressions… don’t think all the time that everything must be pointless if it lacks an abstract thought or idea.” (Quoted by Norbert Lynton, Concepts of Modern Art, Ed. Nikos Stangos, Chapter Three, Expressionism, Revised Edition, P.35, 1981.)

Germany for good or ill was the centre of world events from the 1900s-1945. Germany was a federal state in the 1900s. Although Berlin was the political and artistic capital, other regional cities like; Munich, Cologne, Dresden, and Hanover all had their own local governments, art schools, galleries and museums, vying for prestige. It was an age of xenophobia and chauvinism. In France right wing parties attacked Modern Art as a German or Jewish conspiracy. In Germany, it was attacked by similar parties, as a French, Bolshevik, or Jewish conspiracy.       

The battle for the heart and soul of Germany was bitterly fought between the conservative and the Liberal, the socialist and the Fascist, the avant-garde and the academic. This social, intellectual, and finally violent confrontation of ideas was anticipated and visualized by the German Expressionists and Neue Sachlichkeit artists.

Germany from the late eighteenth century untill the end of the nineteeth century had been enthralled by the achievements of the ancient Greeks. Museums heaved with masterpieces discovered in Greece, Turkey and the Middle East, the greatest of which was the famous Pergamon Alter discovered in Turkey and transported to Berlin. German architecture of the day was born from grand Greek moulds, German philosophers debated Socrates and Plato ad nausum, and countless German painters like the Nazerines made trips to Greece and Italy,  in order to educate and refine their provinical taste. The Prussian historian, archaeologist and antiquarian Johann Joachim Winckelmann (1717-68), who some consider the “father of art history”, led, defined and defended this love of Hellenistic culture in his voloumous writings - which had a massive influence on academic Classical theories for nearly two hundred years. Yet, for the generation of 1905, this obsession with classical order, reason, grace and power - was oppressive and cliched. In an early book on tribal art which Emil Nolde hoped to later publish, he began with these two key points which summed up the attitude of many young artists in Germany: 

1. “’We see the highest art in the Greeks. In painting, Raphael is the greatest of all masters.’ This was what every art pedagogue taught twenty or thirty years ago.

2. Some things have changed since then. We don’t like Raphael and the sculptures of the so-called flowering of Greek art leaves us cold. Our predecessors’ ideals are no longer ours. We like less the works under which great names have stood for centuries. Sophisticated artists in the hustle and bustle of their times made art for Popes and palaces. We value and love the unassuming people who worked in their workshops, of whom we barely know anything today, for their simple and largely-hewn sculptures in the cathedrals of Naumburg, Magdeburg, Bamberg.” (Quoted from Expressionism by Ashley Bassie, Kent: Grange Books, P.28, 2005.)

Seeking a new and authentic Germanic artistic voice, many in Germany rediscovered the art of the middle-ages and the German Gothic. In 1912 Wilhelm Worringer a young history student wrote for his doctorate an influential text called Formprobleme der Gothic (Form in Gothic.) In this thesis he studied the illuminated manuscripts and sculptures, the ivories and glass paintings of the Eleventh to thirteenth centuries and the oil paintings of the Middle-Ages, from the eleventh to the fifteenth century.

Worringer contrasted the naturalistic and sensual art of Classicism with the more alienated, linear, abstract-tending, transcendental art of the Northern Gothic artist. It had a profound influence on German and Northern artists who recognized the difference of their world-view from that of the joi de vivre of Mediterranean cultures. His text articulated the complex nature of “the transcendentalism of the Gothic world of expression.” Which he said required that, “uncanny pathos which attaches itself to the animation of the inorganic.” While in the warm and comforting south, man felt at ease and in communion with arcadia, in the colder and more inhospitable north, he felt estranged and troubled by nature. Which gave northern art its restless, anxious and abstracted character. “The need in Northern man for activity, which is precluded from being translated into a clear knowledge of actuality and which is intensified for lack of this natural solution, finally disburdens itself in an unhealthy play of fantasy. Actuality, which the Gothic man could not transform into naturalness by means of clear-sighted knowledge, was overpowered by this intensified play of fantasy and transformed into a spectrally heightened and distorted actuality. Everything becomes weird and fantastic. Behind the visible appearance of a thing lurks its caricature, behind the lifelessness of a thing an uncanny, ghostly life, and so all actual things become grotesque… common to all is an urge to activity, which, being bound to no one object, loses itself as a result in infinity”. 

The reason this text was so timely and important, was because it not only perfectly described the creepy, anxious, transcendentalism of Gothic artists like Lucas Cranach the Elder, Hieronymus Bosch, and Pieter Bruegel the Elder, it also gave a defining shape to the still perplexing art of contemporaries of Wilhelm Worringer like Vincent van Gogh, Edvard Munch, Ferdinand Hodler, James Ensor, Emil Nolde and even Wassily Kandinsky, in which one could find this self-same Gothic restless energy, near abstraction of reality and alienated intensification of feeling.

Another great influence came from Norway, when in 1892, Edvard Munch’s work was shown in Berlin it caused public hysteria, scandal, and rabid press indignation, which lead to the show being closed after just one week. However, it also fired the imagination of a whole generation of young painters and writers in Germany who recognized his genius.

The final great visual influence on German Expressionism was not European in origin, it was the vivid and powerful tribal art of Africa. They recognized its beauty and pathos and saw that it offered a completely different alternative to the fossilized art of the academies and salons.

As the historian Donald E. Gordon pointed out the Expressionist generation of 1905, were Left-Wing Nietzscheians, Post-Victorians, and Post-Impressionists. They were highly contradictory characters at once playing the part of rebels and social critics, decadents, and prophets of doom.

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In 1905, two young architecture students in Dresden called Erik Heckel (1883-) and Ernst Ludwig Kirchner (1880-1938) with their friends Karl Schmidt-Rottluff (1884) and Fritz Bleyl founded Die Brücke (The Bridge) - the first major group of painters to follow an Expressionist agenda. All these artists were men on a mission.        

Karl Schmidt-Rottluff coined the name. The exact reason for his choice is unclear, perhaps it was a nod to the many bridges of Dresden, often called the “Venice of the North.” Perhaps it was also an attempt to make an explicit connection with Nietzsche. “I love him whose soul is deep even in its ability to be wounded, and whom even a little thing can destroy: thus he is glad to go over the bridge.” (Fredrick Nietzsche, Thus Spoke Zarathustra.) Their philosophy was embodied in Nietzsche’s ‘overman’ and his view of culture as a battle between the Apollonian (Classical order and reason) and Dionysian (Pantheistic and Baroque emotion.) Of course, they believed in the later.  

They were all very young men in their early twenties. They had virtually no training in painting or drawing, and this self-taught ethos would inform (and at times undermine) the nature of their work. They saw art as a brotherhood, worshiped nature, espoused and lived free-love, and wanted to reach the masses with their work. They befriended underage teenage models, circus people, music-hall performers, gypsies, and prostitutes, their friendships based on similar free-thinking, free-living and marginalized poverty. They sought to free their minds and adopt an almost automatic form of painting. 

A few other major artists joined this group for varying degrees of time, they included; Emil Nolde, Max Pechstein, and Otto Müller. Pechstein was technically the odd-one-out having had a sound grounding in academic skills, so it is not surprising that he was the first to really make money from his prettier, and easier to read art, and even be hailed as one of the greatest in Europe. However since then his work has slipped down the greasy-pole of critical thinking, largely because for an Expressionist painter he was too slick.

Die Brücke as a group lasted eight years. A reasonably long time given the short life-span of most modernist movements. However, once the thrill of brotherhood, was overtaken by selfish concerns for; personal glory, fame, and money, it bitterly fell apart.

The artists of Die Brücke shared studios, materials, life-models, and printing presses. They published manifestos together, staged group shows and promoted themselves as a young energetic group, trying to take on and reform the world. In many ways they were naturists and hippies before their time. It was a form of “cultivated rebellion” by largely middleclass young men.        

They were sick of the received wisdom of the academic ethos, its slick techniques, classical ideology and almost total lack of imagination or genuine emotion. Although their techniques were radically different from that of realist painters, they shared their concern with down-to-earth subjects of everyday life.

The painters of Die Brücke used non-descriptive colouring and crude forceful drawing. They loathed abstraction, which was to over-take them as an influence on Modern Art, yet it had been born from their lair. All these artists aspired to a direct, unfiltered, non-conformist form of painting, that they hoped would communicate directly with the viewer. Thus, they shaped their working methods accordingly. They prized quick free-hand drawing and painting styles, which they hoped would capture the movement, speed and anxieties of modern life. They wanted to paint manly pictures, seemingly dashed off in a day, full of youthful vigour and aesthetic confrontation. They used deliberately clashing colours, rapid and thick brushstrokes, distortions of space and architecture and intense, overall compositional schemes.

Their wood-cut prints were ideal for self-promotion. The simple, effective, and very strong look of these black and white prints worked perfectly with Expressionist grammar. Woodcuts had first been used widely in the Gothic period and reached its technical and unsurpassed zenith with Albrecht Dürer. However, it had fallen out of favour with the advent of more advanced printing methods like engraving, etching and lithography. They deliberately used crude and quick methods of carving which would be big on impact, though limited in skill.

Watercolour was also an ideal medium for their spontaneous working methods, and they produced some of the liveliest and most original works in this medium of the century. Given their poverty, it also proved a cheap alternative to oil painting. Most of the iconic masterpieces of painting in the early twentieth century were in oil on canvas, but Georges Rouault, Emil Nolde, Oskar Kokoschka, Egon Schiele, and Paul Klee in particular, were dynamic and daring masters of watercolour. 

To my mind, Ernst Ludwig Kirchner and Emil Nolde were the greatest of artists of Die Brücke. Though in retrospect I now find them both highly suspect men. Although Nolde had joined the group in 1906, he remained essentially a loner. Nolde was a more daring colourist, and perhaps a profounder painter than Kirchner. However, Kirchner’s scope was larger both in terms of subject, content, and mediums. He was a stunningly handsome man, who painted many self-portraits throughout his career, usually looking haggard and on the verge of a nervous breakdown. He produced oil and distemper paintings on canvas, board and paper, watercolours, wood-cut prints, sculptures and even some tapestries. He used his paint straight from the tube or mixed with petrol (to make it dry faster) and used colour combinations as daring and personal to him as Matisse’s were to him. The foundation of all this work, was over 20,000 surviving drawings in pencil, ink, and crayon. They were hasty sketches, made as he moved through the city, or quick figure studies of friends and models. He developed a rapid almost calligraphic style of drawing, which he called ‘hieroglyphs’, a kind of simplified visual coda. His subjects included landscapes, portraits, nudes, circus, and music hall scenes. The free art of Die Brücke also involved free-love, nudism, and most controversially the use of underage female nude models. This according to recent scholars, resulted in the possible seduction of Lina Franziska Fehrmann known as Fränzi or Marzella. Fränzi was born in October 1900, and she was from a poor working-class family. Fränzi started posing for Kirchner aged nine in late 1909 or early 1910. It is speculated by some scholars that both Kirchner and Heckel may have had sex with Fränzi when she was still under the age of eleven. To add to the confusion, Max Pechstein falsely remembered that two sisters aged twelve and fifteen from a variety family had, with the mother’s approval, agreed to pose for the artists of Die Brücke. This deceitful story was constantly repeated in Brücke literature during the twentieth century. However, at the time people naively believed that the artists of Die Brücke like their contemporary Egon Schiele were artists whose only concern with drawing young girls naked was innocently artistic. Only in the early twentieth-first century, did a growing awareness of child sexual abuse, and the many ways abusers manipulate their victims, force more critical eyes to look again at Kirchner’s relationship with Fränzi.

Kirchner was a very driven and ambitious artist who pushed himself to a nervous breakdown. Strangely, he also wrote on many occasions about his own work, trying to secure his place in history, but under the pseudonym of a French doctor called Louis de Marsalle! In later years, Kirchner even antedated his early work to secure an even greater place for himself in the Modern art race. This was because Modernism had put such a premium on originality and the creation of the first works of an important style or development of style, that even changing the date of a canvas backwards by less than a year could make an artist seem far more historically important. Added to this was the competition between French Fauves and German Expressionist that drove Kirchner to make it seem like his early expressive style had developed before Matisse’s early Fauvism. So, all in all, Kircher was free with his art, sex, and the truth. Moreover, in recent years the cultural appropriation of African and Oceanic art by Kirchner which was made possible by German colonialism has also come in for criticism. 

When I was a young boy, I would enjoy looking at Nolde’s medium sized canvas ‘Two Women in A Garden’ 1915, in our National Gallery in Dublin. Even then, I wondered at its oddity in the Irish National Gallery collection, where it stuck out like a sore thumb, amidst the largely seductive French Modern Art collection. Only the Chaïm Soutine hung beside it shared its spirit. It was not a great Nolde, I thought it rather over-worked and it lacked the intensity and enflamed colour of his greatest work, however it was one of the few great emotive works I could identify with in an Irish collection.

The intensity of Nolde’s creativity was evident in all his work, sometimes for good, sometimes for ill. Unlike the other Brücke painters, whose canvases were constructed through the dynamic use of lin, Nolde was a painterly painter. So much so, that his treatment of form was often crude and ignorant. However, his gestural filling in of space, gave his paintings an intensity and crude brutality, others like Max Pechstein could only dream of achieving. He was also one of the most aggressive and daring colourist of the Twentieth Century.

As he grew older, Nolde’s work became more spiritual and religious in motivation. He wanted to breathe new life into the stories of the Bible, yet his crude technique and sour and sweet plastered colours, made many believe that he was sacrilegious. Nolde felt a strong identification with van Gogh and like many in Europe, he read his letters avidly. This quote from van Gogh’s letters perfectly expressed the creative longing of artists like Nolde who followed this lonely path: “I can very well do without God both in my life and in my painting, but I cannot, ill as I am, do without something which is greater than I, which is my life – the power to create…I want to paint men and women with that something of the eternal which the halo used to symbolize, and which we seek to confer by the actual radiance and vibration of our colourings.” (Vincent van Gogh, Letter to Theo, Arles, early September 1888, The Letters of Vincent van Gogh, Ed. Mark Roskill. London: Flamingo, P. 286, 1983.) Both artists shared a burning desire to make a ‘dead God’ - come back to life through the power of art.

Emil Nolde was not the only German Expressionist painter, swayed by German nationalism before World War 1. However, he was one of the few Modern painters to be seduced by anti-Semitism and the Nazi party. (Sadly, Ernst Ludwig Kirchner also expressed anti-Semitic views and admiration for the Nazis before his art was removed by them from German museums.) I love Nolde’s paintings, but this still sticks in my throat. He was a rural man, and they are often the most anti-intellectual, reactionary, and right-wing types, regardless of the nation or era involved. Nolde the artist was a radical, Nolde the political man was naïve at best. Debates about the moral responsibility of artists - have raged throughout time. Personally, I can still greatly admire and even love Nolde’s paintings even if I despise his politics and his type, which are reborn every year in different guises. Despite his early passionate support of the Nazi party, they did not return the compliment. In 1937, Nolde was represented, by the largest group of paintings in the infamous Entartete Kunst (Degenerated Art) exhibition. He was banned from painting and his materials were taken from him. Yet he managed to paint over 1,300 small watercolours during this period in secret. He called them the ungemalte bilder (‘unpainted pictures’.) Today, Nolde is considered one of the greatest watercolourists in art history.

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By 1913, conservative critics in Germany were attacking Expressionism as the crude daubs of lunatics, desperate to be noticed. In an age of growing militarism, artists were a nuisance, to say the least. The German public too, were suspicious of the ugliness and tendency towards caricature in Expressionism.

As E. H. Gombrich has pointed out in defence of the tendency of caricature in Expressionism: “Caricature had always been ‘expressionist’, for the caricaturist plays with the likeness of his victim, and distorts it to express just what he feels about his fellow man. As long as these distortions of nature sailed under the flag of humour nobody seemed to find them difficult to understand. Humorous art was a field in which everything was permitted, because people did not approach it with the prejudices they reserved for Art with a capital A. But the idea of a serious caricature, of an art which deliberately changed the appearance of things not to express a sense of superiority, but maybe love, or admiration, or fear, proved indeed a stumbling block... Yet there is nothing inconsistent about it. It is the sober truth that our feelings about things do colour the way in which we see them and, even more, the forms which we remember. Everyone must have experienced how different the same place may look when we are happy and when we are sad.” (E. H. Gombrich, The Story of Art, Pocket Edition 2006, London: Phaidon, P.436.)

On the eve of the First World War and during its height another great German Expressionist emerged, the Jewish painter, draughtsman, printmaker, poet and writer Ludwig Meidner. He is the forgotten man of German Expressionism because he never associated with the other major groups. He preferred the company of writers and poets, yet he was an archetypal Expressionist, a lonely, isolated man with a burning desire to express his feelings and fears as immediately as possible. His work was a strange self-taught mix of Rembrandt and van Gogh gone mad with the colours and dynamics of Delaunay. His major subjects were portraits and cityscapes - which he called ‘Apocalyptic Landscapes’. Sometimes he combined the two in a terrifying edge-of-the-volcano manner. In his cityscapes, Meidner projected his fears and realities, renting buildings apart with bombs, explosions, and earthquakes. They had the feel of apparitions of a mad prophet in the wilderness of the city.

His portraits and self-portraits were ugly in the extreme, however they hook you instantly with their humble and heartbroken honesty. Meidner, made-no-attempt to flatter, either his sitters or himself. In 1912, he formed a group of painters under the name Die Pathetiker (the solemn ones) but it proved short-lived. Conforming to the general rule of Expressionism, Meidner put so much into his early paintings, that he burned himself out quickly. The peak of his art was from 1911-1916, after which he concentrated on more religious paintings expressing his Jewish heritage.

He was also a prolific and talented writer of Expressionist inspired prose and dynamic directional drawings. He loved the art of drawing and wrote about it very powerfully as this excerpt testifies: “We have loved drawing from way back, we stupid, playful, laughing humans. From the first charming stammerings of primitive people to Kokoschka and Hermann Huber; from Raphael’s disciplined style to the pornographic doodles on our piss-house walls. Drawing makes you happy, healthy and a believer. I’m always alone. No girl loves me. No woman wants to sleep with me. No friend wants to be with me. I have no home, no country, am poor, outlawed and much hated... but I can draw, freely swing here and there... and I rejoice with the pencil, sing, pray and praise the Great Almighty.” (Quoted from Expressionist Portraits, Frank Whitford, London: Thames and Hudson, P.92, 1987.)

World War One finished of Expressionism as a revolutionary movement. The optimism of the pre-war years, had been replaced with shellshock, social and political disillusion, and savage cynicism.

After The Great War, commercialized Expressionism in Germany became a bandwagon – jumped on by opportunists. Because it was the only country to foster Expressionist art, it was also the only country where its mannerisms became imitated for profit. With the result, that much of late German Expressionism, was tainted by the fraudulent canvases of opportunists and charlatans of neither talent, vision nor authenticity. Even the credible artists of the early years, began mass-producing their work to feed an insatiable market. Thus, many who had supported the first flowerings of Expressionism, became disenchanted by its growing fakeness.

After the disaster of the First World War, Neue Sachlichkeit (in English New Objectivity) artists in Germany like George Grosz, Otto Dix and Max Beckman produced work deeply influenced by the visual intensities of Expressionism, however it was given a more realistic, bitter, technically skilled, and socially conscious shape. Colour was more controlled and full of pathos and their line was more biting. All these artists, in reaction to the idealism of the early Expressionists, chose to play the part of social-agitators and critics. Gone were the utopian notions of sexual equality, brotherhood, and freedom, and in their place were powerless feelings of cynicism, condemnation, disenchantment, and disgust. 

German Expressionism was finished off in 1933, with the Election of Hitler. Many artists fled the country, those that stayed found their teaching jobs axed, their work taken off the walls of the museums, their studios ransacked, their materials taken from them, and in 1937, their work held up as depraved and insane in the Entartete Kunst (Degenerate Art) exhibition. Worse was to come as historian Ashley Bassie in her book on Expressionism noted: “On 20th March 1939, around 5,000 paintings, prints and drawings, most of which were by Expressionist artists, were burned having been determined as “unverwertbarer Bestand” (property of no value.)” (Bassie, Ashley Expressionism. Kent: Grange Books, P. 172, 2005.)

After the Second world War, attempts where strenuously made in Germany to recover Germanys cultural heritage and redress these outrageous acts against human creativity. Those artists like Karl Hofer, Karl Schmidt-Rottluff, Erich Heckel, Max Pechstein, Emil Nolde, and Otto Dix, who were still alive, were showered with honours, retrospectives, and academy teaching posts. Yet the question remains, if the Nazis had not hated and persecuted the Expressionists so much, would they have been later championed so much by the art world? And does the fear of sounding like Hitler ranting about ‘degenerate art’ prevent many in the art world, and members of the public, from expressing their real feelings about Expressionist art?

13/03/2014

Richard Gerstl: Are You Looking At Me?

“Expressionism is that which disrupts preordained harmony, inscribes itself on canvas and in shape with savagery and dissymmetry, tears its prey and howls. Its ingredients are ultra-colours, ultra-lines and ultra-shapes. It is the opposite of the rounded and caressed; it is pointed, jagged, scratched and bitten. Inner life bursts forth in all its harsh, ugly, pitiless reality. The controlled appearance of man and humanity gives way to trembling, temper and spasms. Its themes are revolt, violence, remorseless self-analysis, madness, explosion of religious belief – to devout people it must appear sacrilegious – primitive and sexual savagery, the terrifying aspect of the primitives and the prostitute’s shameless gestures, metropolitan restlessness, grimaces and death.” Pierre Courthion, Expressionism, Heron History of Art, 1968, P.8.


“The primary, abrupt, direct, originality on command was his desire. Gerstl’s painting was self-fulfilling in the powerful act of painting itself.”
Otto Breicha.

Everything about Richard Gerstl was incomplete, his life, oeuvre, correspondence and relationships. Hardly any of Gerstl’s paintings were signed, he left only one letter behind and few people who knew him personally left any accounts about him. This has meant that establishing a chronology of Gerstl’s paintings and his development as an artist has been speculative as has been accounts of his character and probable mental illness not to mention divining the truth behind Gerstl’s affair with Mathilde the wife of the composer Arnold Schönberg. If you have heard Richard Gerstl’s name before, it has probably been in relation to his much more famous contemporary Gustav Klimt twenty-one years his senior, or those that came after him, Oskar Kokoschka three years his junior and Egon Schiele seven years his junior. He never exhibited in his lifetime and shunned his artistic contemporaries, though Dr Raymond Coffer has suggested that Gerstl may have met Kokoschka. If you are a music lover, you might have heard of him in connection with Arnold Schönberg who later castigated him as an evil punk who cuckolded him. A young virtuoso, a true rebel despite his privileged background and Expressionist prophet - Gerstl was sadly decades ahead of his time. Over the last fifty years, Gerstl has become a cult figure for painters in Europe and wherever his individual paintings have appeared in group exhibitions they have aroused curiosity and admiration. Moreover, since Neo-Expressionism in the 1980s, Gerstl’s work has taken on fresh relevance for painters like Georg Baselitz and become viewed as prophetic. 


Of Gerstl’s surviving oeuvre of seventy paintings, nearly a third of them, seventeen paintings were self-portraits - the rest of his work included portraits, landscapes and images of his mother and lover Mathilda Schönberg.                                                                                                                                                                     


Since my youth, I have pieced together facts about his life from books on Klimt, Schiele and Kokoschka. Meanwhile, I tore out any illustrations of his canvases that I found - and stored them in my notebooks. Still it was hard at first to find decent accounts of Gerstl’s life and art (at least for an English speaker). In 2002, I had paid a young French girl studying in Trinity College Dublin (who was a bit of a prodigy) to translate those parts, which dealt with Gerstl in my copy of La Verite Nue (the catalogue for an exhibition of Austrian Expressionist paintings and drawings at the Malliol Museum in Paris in the late winter of 2002). It cost me €40 – but it was the best €40 I have ever spent! Then in 2011, I bought online Richard Gerstl – Oskar Kokoschka a catalogue from the Galerie St. Etienne in New York written by Jane Kallir, which gave me further insights into him. Then in early 2012, I came across Dr Raymond Coffer’s Doctoral Thesis from 2011, ‘Richard Gerstl and Arnold Schönberg: A Reassessment of Their Relationship (1906-1908)’ on his website dedicated to Gerstl and his affair with Mathilde Schönberg. The important advances in Coffer’s researcher included a new chronology of Gerstl’s paintings and new details of his affair with Mathilde Schönberg – which overturned much of the chronology of Klaus Albrecht Schroder and previous versions of Gerstl’s life. Then in 2017, we were blessed with a small book on Gerstl by Diethard Leopold that used Coffer’s new research and the Neue Galerie in New York staged the largest retrospective of Gerstl in the English speaking world that was accompanied by a detailed book that used Coffer’s new research. Thanks to Coffer’s research, I have had to re-write my essay on Gerstl more times than on virtually any other artist. But, I still think the definitive story has not yet been told or perhaps ever will be told give the paucity of facts.


Viennese art of the late 1890s to the late 1910s was one of the most fascinating episodes in Modern art. Their concerns with self-hood, insanity, sex, and the body still resonate today with young artists everywhere – and will as long as human beings live on this earth. Characters change, settings change, plots thicken, but the human condition is constant. The truth is, when a youth, I felt an irrational kinship with Gerstl - if I believed in reincarnation - I might have thought I was him! Like me he probably suffered from a borderline personality disorder and perhaps a narcissistic personality disorder. Like me he was a social loser, like me he was an angry young man, like me he would bend to no one, like me he prized feeling over correct technique, like me he was too sensitive for his own good. However, unlike me, he never lived into middle age - to find some kind of happiness and compromise with the world.                      


Richard Gerstl was born on 14th September 1883 in Vienna, Austria (two years after Picasso was born in Malaga, Spain.) He was the third son of Emil and Maria Gerstl. His father was a Hungarian Jew and his mother a Catholic and he was brought up as a Catholic. His father had made a fortune in the Stock market - and was a prominent landowner. It is thought that Richard had an unnatural love for his domineering mother and an Oedipal complex. Victor Hammer, Gerstl’s only true friend remembered Gerstl’s family life thus: “His father was a Jew. His mother was an especially kind and friendly woman, and the sons were very devoted to her. Richard resembled his mother, who was not as well built as the father. The family lived on the Wahringer Strasse. It was a modest apartment, not poor but not “upper middle-class”, very decent... I think the mother was more inclined to support her youngest son’s artistic ambitions.” (Victor Hammer, Richard Gerstl – Oskar Kokoschka, New York: Galerie St. Etienne, 1992, P. 27.)                                                                                                                     


Gerstl attended elementary school, in the Bartensteingasse and then in 1895, he entered the Piaristengymnasium a renowned public school. However, Gerstl became a troublemaker in secondary school - all he wanted to do was study at the Vienna Academy of Fine Arts. Disciplinary problems caused him to leave the Piaristengymnasium after two years and he finished his secondary education at a private institute. Emil was disappointed and angered by youngest son’s choice to become a painter – perhaps he foresaw the tormented life his son would have as an artist - however he continued to support him.
           

In the summer of 1898, Gerstl enrolled in the drawing school of Ladislaus Rohsdorfer to prepare for the entrance exams at the Academy of Fine Arts - the most exclusive art school in the Hapsburg Empire. At the age of fifteen, Gerstl passed the notoriously difficult entrants exam at the Vienna Academy of Fine Arts and admitted in the autumn of 1898. No matter what his peers said against him later, they could never take that away Gerstl’s successful entry to the Vienna Academy of Fine Arts - his only tangible achievement as an artist. Adolf Hitler would later infamously fail to gain entrance to the same Academy twice in 1907-1908 – leaving us all to wonder what might have happened if Hitler had succeeded as an artist and channelled his rage into the more peaceful and cathartic activities of painting and drawing.                                     
                                                                          

However, Gerstl’s entry into the Academy was only the start of his problems. His professor in the Academy was the notoriously strict and conservative, history and allegorical painter Christian Griepenkerl - who was then nearly sixty. Christian Griepenkerl (1839-1916) had worked as an assistant to Carl Rahl on his mural of the Prometheus legend and then in 1874 he was made a professor at the Academy. You know I have read at least a hundred books on the art of Vienna of the 1900s, Klimt, Schiele and Kokoschka and it just occurred to me that while Christian Griepenkerl was mentioned many times as a demon teacher – nobody ever actually seems to have looked at his work closely. Well I did - if only online – and what a shock! His paintings are conventional in technical terms - based on the earlier tonal ‘painterly-painting’ of the likes of Titian, Tintoretto, Rubens and José Ribera. Griepenkerl’s themes are also conventional allegorical works based on the Bible and the Classics - making them look like they might have been painted in the 1640s not the 1890s. They are full of drama and wild animals. His drawings are competent and skilful – but also empty and academic. However, Griepenkerl’s chauvinistic, macho and self-important tone is most important.                         
                

The dictatorial Griepenkerl was not the kind of wimpy academic of today who would like to teach his pupils how to draw - but just lets out a sigh and lets them get on with their scribbling - not Christian Griepenkerl! He was going to uphold the ancestral skills of Western painting and drawing - and fight the youth tooth-and-nail to his dying day! I have no doubt he cowed many youthful pupils into submission – but Richard Gerstl was not going to be one of them. He instinctively recognized the bankruptcy of the academic tradition personified by the pompous work of closed-minded artists like Griepenkerl.                 


I have argued for the recognition of late academically trained portrait painters like Sargent, Sorolla, Boldini, Mancini, Orpen, Lavery and John on many occasions. Yet my passion for defending lost causes is stultified when I see work like Griepenkerl’s. I find it easy to appreciate the simplicity, the panache and the highly skilled bravura brushstrokes of the portrait painters I have mentioned. However, I fail repeatedly to love the pompous, macho, escapist and hypocritical ‘machines’ of late Salon Art. Artists like Alexandre Cabanal and William Bouguereau in France and Griepenkerl and Hans Makart in Vienna were capable draughtsmen, competent and sometimes skilful painters – but there was a void in their personalities and in their art. Their work had none of the humanity, fresh passion, originality and innovation that the canvases of their heroes like Raphael, Titian and Rubens had possessed over two hundred years before. I do not think that technique was the major flaw in late academic art like Griepenkerl’s. It was the preposterous nature of it when used to uphold Aristocratic values and the Western canon in the face of Realism, Impressionism, Symbolism, industrialization, democracy, the press, nationalism, socialism, anarchism, feminism and the cannibalization of the individual in the capitalist system and the modern battlefield. Griepenkerl’s huge oil paintings and frescos were simply empty propaganda for an Empire - which was by the 1900s one of the weakest and most decadent in Europe.
           

Vienna in the early 1900s was a city in a state of decadent collapse - divided by all kinds of political and artistic factions and splinter groups. Intellectuals discussed politics, sex, religion, economics and art heatedly in the cafes – but to no conclusive effect.  Despite the respectable facade of the city – it was morally rotten to the core and cheap pornographic postcards and prostitution – including child prostitution was rampant. It is no coincidence that in a neurotic and two-faced city like Vienna, psychoanalysis emerged and was concerned with overcoming the dangers of repression and psychological ignorance. The First World War and Spanish flu epidemic of 1918 - would finish off the Hapsburg Empire – but the party until then would go on. So Griepenkerl and his patrons tried to pretend that the world had not changed and that old elitist calls to; honour, duty and subservience to the Aristocracy - could still mean something to a growing commercially, sexually and socially exploited underclass and a nervous and neurotic middle class.


Like Romanticism, Expressionism was a movement of furious youth - sick of their moribund and deceitful society. Gerstl was a true rebel in a fiercely conservative and restrictive state. He was also born just a little bit too early - to a world not ready to hear his truth - or brothers who could take some of the flack. These days an art student can rub themselves in excrement and give the Nazi salute – and still be given a passing grade - and thought of as quite the joker. Today's art students are kicking against a door - that has already been rammed open by a tank. However, Gerstl and his generation really were in open rebellion against an establishment - that had its backs to the wall - and were fighting like cornered rats to save their ideological system.                         


From the start - the young upstart - who gave off an insolent aura, irked Griepenkerl. In photographs – the highly-strung Gerstl looked creepy - like the kind of young man who might strangle you in a back-alley. Narcissistic, taciturn, volatile and sex obsessed, he looked haunted and sick of his own skin. My suspicion is that he was a highly sensitive young man who did not know how to express his feelings in public – so he turned to art. He was as you might say - a young man who could have a fight in an empty room. He quarrelled with everyone and did not seem to give a dam about the opinion of anyone else in Vienna. Gerstl was quick tempered and an isolationist - his short life spiked with violent quarrels: “He had no patience with those he considered his intellectual inferiors. An amateur painter who gave well-intentioned advice was shown to the door; another visitor’s praise caused Gerstl to slash the painting in question, so despicable did he find his admirer’s taste. Once while he was copying a picture at the Kunsthistorisches Museum, the director happened by and made a comment. “Don’t disturb me,” Gerstl snarled. “What do you know anyway.” (Jane Kallir, Richard Gerstl – Oskar Kokoschka, New York: Galerie St. Etienne, 1992, P. 9.)
           

Hammer was one of Gerstl’s only friends – yet they always addressed themselves by their last names. How odd! “I met Richard Gerstl at the academy, where we were classmates. He was a year younger than I. We soon became friends, and I believe I can say I was his only friend. Our friendship continued after we had both left the Academy, until his death in 1908...” (Victor Hammer, Richard Gerstl – Oskar Kokoschka, New York: Galerie St. Etienne, 1992, P. 27.) Hammer would go on to become a very technically accomplished classical painter. “Gerstl was not impressed by the Austrian artists, but he was enthusiastic about the Spanish painter Zuloaga. Munch – whose influence on Gerstl was later imputed – was never mentioned by him. On the other hand, he often spoke of Van Gogh, who was just then beginning to be known in Vienna.” (Victor Hammer, Richard Gerstl – Oskar Kokoschka, New York: Galerie St. Etienne, 1992, P. 28.)              
                                                   

During the summers of 1900 and 1901, Gerstl studied with the more adventurous painter Simon Hollosy in Nagybanya (which at the time was part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire.) Simon Hollosy work was not very original – a mix of then trendy French Romantic, Realist and Impressionist canvases – but he must have been a huge relief from the over-bearing Griepenkerl. Gerstl had ambitions now to make modern masterpieces (like his hero’s van Gogh and Munch had recently created – their names growing every day in the minds of art students with increasing news, scandal and legends about their art and lives.)
           

Gerstl’s earlier work was rather conventional - inspired by the likes of Diego Velázquez and Max Lieberman – but lacking the former master’s exactness, wisdom and maturity and the later German’s slick Salon polish. However, his work after studying with Hollosy would be a response to the Impressionist and Pointillist dissolving of the world - into a shimmering haze of coloured brushwork. After Gerstl had assimilated these influences - he went on to produce prophetic early Expressionist canvases.             


Gerstl’s first great self-portrait was Semi-Nude Self-Portrait, 1902-4 – painted in the same year that Picasso had begun working on his Blue Period paintings. Neither of them was unique. Blue was very much the colour of turn of the century especially amongst Symbolist's and early Expressionists like Ferdinand Holder and Georges Rouault. However, even amongst this company Gerstl’s blue stands apart as his own. It is a turquoise like blue – radiating spirituality. He has depicted himself full frontally- his chest bare - but his lower half-covered with a white shrift. His arms are down at his sides and he stares in complete vulnerability towards the viewer. Coffer has suggested that Gerstl, revealing a hatred of his own Jewishness, Gerstl posed himself as a Christ like figure – vulnerable to the world. Not a man who wants to hurt – but who is hurting. The painting is over five-feet high - making it almost life-size. Clearly influenced in technical terms by the open brushwork and airy space of Velázquez the canvas also echoes the Symbolist mood of the time. Coffer’s has also suggested that this self-portrait was painted in response to his rejection for military service and was just one of many rejections that angered and alienated Gerstl.                                                                        

Haunted by Gerstl’s gaze in Semi-Nude Self-Portrait, 1902-4, Diethard Leopold whose father owned the painting, observed that the painting’s power rested upon questions about the meaning of Gerstl’s stare: “That is the reason that this painting has been interpreted in so many ways: as the expression of a crisis; as the rejection of any further communication; as a challenge to enter into a process of looking at each other in which personal limits are violated or transcended.” (Diethard Leopold, Richard Gerstl, Munich: Hirmer, 2017, P. 18.) Writing of Gerstl’s Self-Portrait Semi-nude against Blue Background of 1901 Klaus Albrecht Schroder wrote, “This self-portrait by Gerstl not only refers to Dürer’s drawing but adapts two of the iconographical traditions associated with Christ. Both the isolation that symbolizes the sense of exposure and of being at the mercy of an unknown power, and the passivity of the frontal stance with arms hanging loose, related to devotional paintings of the Man of Sorrows, and to Ecce Homo images divorced from their narrative context. This imagery of suffering is synthesized with the iconography of the Resurrection: the pellucid appearance of the body, surrounded by an aura that stands out against the deep blue night of the ground, transports Gerstl far beyond the earthly sphere.” (Klaus Albrecht Schroder, Egon Schiele: Eros and Passion Munich: Prestel, 1999, P. 54.)
              

The spare stripped down nature of Gerstl’s paintings were a direct response the overly elaborate and ornamental canvases of Klimt whose work he despised. It was the simplicity and immediacy of Gerstl’s canvases that make them so modern. Gustav Klimt and later Egon Schiele were infinitely greater artists – but their extreme form of stylization can make their work look a bit dated.          


From 1901-1904 – Gerstl lived an increasingly solitary existence. In a frightening full length self-portrait in a suit of 1904 (which he later cut-up and vandalised with paint) was perhaps his first laughing self-portrait - yet in this one his face was more menacing than pitiful. Coffer suggested that Gerstl was spurred on to paint more aggressive expressive works by his previous rejections.


“Despite his erratic educational experiences, Gerstl was by all accounts extremely intelligent and well-read. He taught himself both Spanish and Italian, achieving a degree of proficiency that enabled him to read complex scientific and philosophical texts. Though parallels between Freud and the Austrian Expressionists are often cited, Gerstl is the only major painter who is known to have read The Interpretation of Dreams shortly after publication.” (Jane Kallir, Richard Gerstl – Oskar Kokoschka, New York: Galerie St. Etienne, 1992, P. 10.) He avidly studied philosophy, linguistics, psychoanalysis and music. He was a great fan of the decline of Empire style writings of the anti-Semitic, racist, misogynistic, and elitist historian Otto Weininger, the scandalous psychoanalyst Sigmund Freud as well as the angst-ridden dramas of Henrik Ibsen and the romantic symphonies of Gustave Mahler - a typical cultural diet in Vienna for the trendy, intellectuals of the time.


Gerstl had always loved music, and would go to a concert every night. He even toyed with the idea of giving up painting and becoming a music critic. Gerstl disliked other painters and preferred the company of musicians - perhaps because they did not have the expertise to judge his work and make criticisms and were more open-minded to new ideas than the conservative painters of Vienna who were concerned only with technique.
           

Briefly, Gerstl and Victor Hammer attended a progressive private art school on Vienna’s Kohlmarkt run by two painters from the Secession group including Hohenbeger. While there, they met Jules Pascin who at the time was still using his real name Pincas. Meanwhile Gerstl followed van Gogh in art periodicals and probably saw the sweeping Impressionist exhibition in the Secession that year. In 1904, he may have taken the chance to see a few of Munch’s works in the Vienna Secession – even if he did not mention Munch’s work to his friend Victor Hammer. The spectral quality of many of Gerstl’s portraits, their abstracted backgrounds and wraith like application of paint may have been in response to the radically simplified forms and silhouettes of Munch. However, because Gerstl was still an awkward art student his work had an even more neurotic and uncontrolled look. Later in 1906, he must have seen the paintings by van Gogh in the Miethke Gallery.                                                                                   


Another lesser influence might have been Lovis Corinth who at the time was painting and exhibiting dramatic psychological and allegorical self-portraits. There are indeed many similarities in terms of technique and approach between these two painters: “Both had a predilection for dealing intensely with the colour paste and both followed this – albeit at different speeds. The personal crisis in which Gerstl found himself in 1908 accelerated this development and led to him throwing himself into an intensity that was unparalleled at the time. The young painter was almost overpowered by the paint. In terms of violence, Gerstl left Corinth far behind him even when one takes the late, almost informal, works of the older painter into consideration.” (Erhard Stobe, Lovis Corinth: A Feast of Painting, Ed. Agnes Husslein-Arco and Stephan Koja, Munich: Prestel, 2009, P. 130.) However, in Corinth’s self-portraits, there was always an element of play-acting, posing and posturing - that was utterly lacking in Gerstl’s work. In fact, the painful sincerity of his canvases strikes one immediately.
           

At the end of the summer of 1904, Gerstl had to be treated for a “nervous stomach” complaint which reminds us of the equally explosive painter Chaim Soutine’s own battle with a nervous stomach - which in his case was exacerbated by alcoholism.        


Gerstl was notorious for his combative personality and short-fuse, it is said that angered by a patron’s comments on one of his paintings - Gerstl slashed the picture in front of them. Gerstl’s self-portrait from 1904 (Fragment of a Full-Length Self-Portrait Laughing, 1904) reveals the depths of Gerstl’s agonised narcissism and self-disgust and the kind suicidal aggression that would eventually end his life. Gerstl in a fit of auto-aggression slashed the canvas and defaced his laughing self-portrait with blue paint. The painting as it now exists - as defaced fragment - is frankly psychotic looking and terrifying. I know what that kind of self-loathing feels like and where it leads… However, for the next few years, Gerstl channeled his anguish into oil paint – applied with incredible immediacy with paint brush, pallet knife, straight from the tube or even his own hands. He made paint transmit his nervous feelings in a way unprecedented in art up to that point. More importantly, this frenetic expression came out of him naturally without the theatricality of other Expressionists like Kokoschka or Schiele.


In October 1904, he returned to study in the Vienna Academy again under Griepenkerl. Yet again, they clashed and Griepenkerl reportedly said to Gerstl: “The way you paint I can piss in the snow!” On another occasion Griepenkerl told Gerstl, “The devil shat you into my class”, a putdown he would also use on Schiele.


Then by luck (Gerstl did not have much) Professor Heinrich Lefler another tutor at the academy was visiting the studio of Victor Hammer and saw Gerstl’s bizarre and haunting portrait of The Sisters Karoline and Pauline Fey, 1905. According to Hans Bisanz it “is regarded as the earliest example of Expressionism in Austria. The influence of Velázquez is plain to see, but there are also indications that he had studied the art of Ferdinand Holder and his “Parallelism”, the sequencing of similar motifs.”  (Hans Bisanz, Vienna 1900 and The Heroes of Modernism, London, Thames & Hudson, 2005, P. 123.) Lefler suggested that Gerstl re-enter the academy under his tutorship. Gerstl agreed to go back to the academy on the condition that he had his own studio – which Lefler arranged. Professor Heinrich Lefler specialized in illustrations prints - which mixed Rococo fantasy with Symbolist metaphors. Lefler’s prints still have a period charm – though in art historical terms they are trivial.  At first, the two men got along well. Lefler decided to show the startling new work of his student at an exhibition of Hagenbund artists in a local inn. However, Lefler chickened out at the last moment fearing Gerstl’s work would cause a scandal – he was probably right - at least in this.
           

In the spring of 1906, Gerstl painted his first uncertain landscapes in a northern neighbourhood of Vienna - that show the influence of Munch. Then in the spring of 1906, Gerstl met and befriended Arnold Schönberg (he changed the spelling from Schönberg to Schoenberg when he immigrated to America) and his wife Mathilde Zeminsky. The couple had two young children. Gerstl also befriended the other members of Schönberg’s circle including Alexander Zemlinsky and eventually Alban Berg and Anton Webern. Schönberg was still a struggling composer, battling with alcoholism and a deteriorating marriage and had yet to make the breakthrough of his twelve-tone dissonant music – some have in fact suggested that his friendship with Gerstl who was trying to “emancipate the brushstroke” was to influence Schönberg’s later music. Schönberg was to become one of the most influential and divisive figures in contemporary music by destroying the over three-hundred-year old total system of Classical music. The Nazi’s later labelled his work degenerate and he had to flee to the United States where he taught the likes of John Cage.                                                   


At the time, Schönberg made ends meet by tutoring rich young people with a passion for music. I think he also got off on acting the master to young impressionable people. Gerstl who was a fan of the composer’s music and perhaps looking again for a father figure - asked if he could paint the composer - who first checked with Lefler to see if he thought his pupil was good enough to paint him! That briefly sums up Schönberg for me – an arrogant conceited prick! Arnold who was making little money from his music hoped that if he improved as a painter he might be able to make money from his art – so he asked Gerstl to teach him.


Later Schönberg became moderately famous as a painter for his The Red Gaze of 1910 - a crude Expressionist self-portrait painted two years after Gerstl’s suicide. It was a powerful though unsophisticated piece – pure ham-theatre. Schönberg’s paintings were persistently naivety, crude and dumb. Little in them was significantly original. Nevertheless, Schönberg the musician had a comparatively large cult audience that wondered just how awful, painful and unpleasant music could get - before it was just banging on a piano by an epileptic. The fact that Schönberg composed such a racket with such elitist, arrogant and contemptuous theoretical baggage only made it worse.                                                                                                                     
                          

“Like Schönberg and the rest of Loos’s circle, Gerstl felt himself to be locked in mortal combat with a hostile world, although in his case the hostility came more from within than without. Unlike Schönberg, who was subject to vicious attacks whenever a new piece was performed, Gerstl managed totally to avoid pubic confrontation.” (Jane Kallir, Richard Gerstl – Oskar Kokoschka, New York: Galerie St. Etienne, 1992, P. 9.) Gerstl’s huge semi-pointillist portrait of the authoritarian Schönberg in the spring of 1906 - is compelling and I think it is a real insight into the composer. Schönberg sits suited, on a chaise lounge with his legs spread (an Alpha-Male pose) and a cigarette in his limp left hand staring out at us – and Gerstl - with a look that I can only describe as contemptuous. Gerstl may have used photographs of the composer as aids in this painting and in others around this period. Though he did not slavishly copy photographs, I personally find this his least convincing period. Still in this canvas, we see a real painter at work. It still holds the usual influences - but it is also a searching painting - in which a young artist is looking for new phrases in painting – never conjured before.
           

During 1906, Gerstl painted a number of portraits of his family, members of the Schönberg circle and female sitters who have not been identified. Along with Gerstl’s early academic portraits of 1902, I think these works that bordered on kitsch were his weakest works. It is notable in all these and all Gerstl’s other portraits that none of his sitter’s smile – but rather regard the painter with suspicion. Frequently they chose not to take the finished work - thinking it not very good.


Some of canvases of the winter of 1906-7 show him standing or sitting pensively in his suit holding his pallet and brushes and alone in his cold studio. Knowing of his later more extreme self-depictions, the conservative depictions of himself in 1906-7 look especially repressed. Throughout 1905-6, Gerstl grappled with the influence of Pointillism as he tried to free his brushstrokes of line and the constraints of form - most of these efforts were unsatisfactory, transitional works. However, a series of four pointillist ink self-portraits from 1906-7 had a haunting and heart-breaking character – revealing Gerstl’s fragile sense of self.  We see the artist shimmer in his brief existence through a flux of dots – but we are sadly aware that he will end his own life a year later and disappear altogether from this earth.


All my life I had thought that Gerstl’s Self-Portrait Laughing, and the four drawings that seem to have accompanied it - had been made in 1908 - at the end of Gerstl’s affair with Mathilda Schönberg. However, reading Dr. Raymond Coffer’s Thesis from 2011, I had to rethink all I thought I knew about Gerstl. Dr Coffer, convincingly questioned the accepted date and suggested that stylistically it was closer to Gerstl’s work in the summer/autumn of 1907, and that Gerstl’s appearance was closer to that seen in a painting of Gerstl by William Clark Rice, also dated 1907. Looking through the various self-portraits and photographs of Gerstl, it occurred to me that he may have periodically shaved his head and changed his beard frequently. Yet I think Coffer made a persuasive argument against this theory. Though I thought his strongest arguments were stylistic and forensic. Coffer has suggested that this self-portrait was painted after joining the Schönberg in 1907, though it may have been before the start of Gerstl’s affair with Mathilda - though they might have already developed feelings for each other. Coffer also suggested that it may have expressed jubilation at befriending the Schönberg circle. Also at the time, according to Coffer, records show that he was attending a doctor for psychological problems.
           

Self-Portrait Laughing is a small (no bigger than A3) rapidly painted proto-Expressionist painting - by the little known Austrian painter Richard Gerstl. When I first saw it at the age of fifteen as a tiny black and white illustration in book on Egon Schiele I was mesmerized by it almost more than Schiele’s work. To this day, if I could own just one self-portrait in the world – this would be it. There are few portraits as terrifying, and immediate - the fact that it is so devilishly skilful, authentic and of the moment - only serves to multiply its unsettling power.
           

The painting depicts a thin, gaunt looking young man - with close-cropped hair and a thin goatee – he is cracking a smile but he looks like he is on the verge of tears. His hairstyle like a convicts, has led some to speculate that when depressed Gerstl would shave his head. Though the subject should be one of joy – we know instantly that this is not a chuckle of delight. The light seems to be from a candle or lamp placed below him – which we cannot see - because the painting ends just below his shoulders. The low lighting (which since its use in German Expressionist cinema – has become a favourite trick of Hollywood when the villain arrives on the scene) makes his face look grotesque and evil - as he laughs alone in the darkness of his studio. His neck is unnaturally long - and his head thrown back. He has painted his face in swift but skilful strokes of largely tonal skin hues ranging from mauve, to olive, to ruddy pink and a sour light green dabbed neurotically on his beard and sideburns. His right eye is lit up so as to look ochre while his left flickers with the blue of his iris. Only the eyes, the tip of his nose, his big teeth, and the collar of his shirt has accents of dirty white. The cavity behind his teeth is dark purple. It is as though his expression has been just caught before dissolving away forever. Behind his face is a shimmering screen of dark browns and blacks – suggesting more the inner state of his mind - than the space of the room he inhabits. Though Gerstl’s technique was based on late academic tonal painting and the open sketchy brushwork of Impressionism - its macabre mood made it an early example of Expressionism.                                                                                 


Although Self-Portrait Laughing - which I have already extensively described - was probably painted in a few frenzied hours. Gerstl had worked on the pose and composition in chalk drawings beforehand (dated from 15th to the 29th of September) in the same way that all good art students were taught. In these early studies, his face is impassive, his mouth is closed – but his eyes are full of sorrow. In both the preparatory drawings and finished oil painting, Gerstl emphasis the thinness of his face and slenderness of his neck: “... Richard spoke of his interest in the shape of people’s skulls. He mentioned a book by Moebius about the width of women’s heads, which maintained that narrow measurements were a sign of inferiority. I asked him if he had read the by Moebius. “Yes,” he said, “and it gave me a width of 71cm.”” (Victor Hammer, Richard Gerstl – Oskar Kokoschka, New York: Galerie St. Etienne, 1992, P. 28.)                             


Gerstl’s grimacing self-portrait was reminiscent of the mad Viennese Neo-Classical sculptor Franz Xavier Messerschmitt’s sculpted self-portrait heads. However, whether Gerstl knew of his work is open to question. After Messerschmitt’s, death he was forgotten and a lot of his heads ended up in a freak show circus, yet in 1907, Messerschmitt’s heads self-portrait heads had been exhibited in Vienna to much acclaim amongst artists - however we do not know if Gerstl saw the show. Still the similarities between Messerschmitt’s self-portrait heads and Gerstl’s self-portrait laughing is striking.


Erhard Stobe has suggested a link between this ‘violent’ painting and the late work of Lovis Corinth, whom Gerstl may have been familiar with: “... the fact that the Viennese painter was attracted to certain aspects of Corinth’s painting has received too little attention. The bridge between Corinth and Gerstl is somewhat fragile but maybe it is strong enough... In his Berlin period, Corinth was a famous painter, his pictures were illustrated in esteemed art journals and it is possible that the original works were displayed in Vienna: there are apparently records that the Self-Portrait as a Howling Bacchant was shown in Vienna in 1906. Gerstl’s Laughing Self-Portrait from 1908... follows this example in its radicalism, if not in its atmosphere.” (Erhard Stobe, Lovis Corinth: A Feast of Painting, Ed. Agnes Husslein-Arco and Stephan Koja, Munich: Prestel, 2009, P. 129.)                                                                                                                                                                                           

I am sceptical of posthumous psychiatric diagnosis. For example, I find the posthumous diagnosing of van Gogh exasperating. Frankly, put two psychiatrists in a room with one living patient and they will probably come up with three diagnoses. Also mental illness is a continuum and a patient can have periods of extreme distress and others of comparative normality. Personally I do not believe in the biological root of mental illness even though it is the dominant one today for reasons too long to go into (one of which being - it is cheaper to give a pill than fund lengthy therapy), I believe it is brought on by environmental factors more often, so I wonder what in Gerstl’s childhood might have affected him. If I were to play the game, I would suggest that while there is no doubt he was depressive, this to me does not explain his explosive relationships or manic and frankly violent painting. Since full blown manic-depression would have been obvious to everyone, I think that he had a personality disorder, perhaps a borderline personality disorder which would explain his fractious relations with other people it is also a disorder mostly found in women and can involve gender confusion which would explain his effeminate depiction in Self-Portrait against Blue Background. I also think that he might have a narcissistic personality disorder which would explain his acute self-involvement and detachment from others. But that’s just my dumb guess.


Writing about Gerstl’s self-portraits Natalie Haddad observed that: “Gerstl’s self-portraits are equally compelling because he conflates narcissistic self-scrutiny with a sense of humility and his own insignificance. Where fellow Austrian Expressionists Kokoschka and Schiele, and German counterpart, such as Ernst Ludwig Kirchner, represented themselves through sexuality, machismo or gendered self-performance, Gerstl portrayed himself as slipping away.” (Natalie Haddad, Vienna’s Prodigal Son, Hyperallergic website, 16th August, 2017.)


Some may view narcissistic Expressionism as an oxymoron. However, self-involvement and self-importance can be found in many of the Expressionists such as van Gogh, Munch, Ensor, Moderson Becker, Schiele and Kirchner. My own work was just a mirror of this trend!          


As their friendship deepened, Schönberg trusted Gerstl enough to accompany his introverted and plain wife to concerts. The composer was very busy at the time and perhaps welcomed the free time to spend on his work. Mathilde and Gerstl were soon having an affair. When it started, who made the first move, who consummated it, who persisted in it - we may never know. It is my suspicion that Gerstl (like many young Viennese men of the day) might have lost his virginity to the loose women of Vienna’s red light district – but emotionally he was naïve when he fell for Mathilde. Gerstl’s paintings of Mathilde are by conventional standards, quite ugly and hastily made. It is as though he was so frightened of her or his feelings for her – that he could hardly paint her. In his paintings, she looks more maternal than sexy and in no way a Siren of men. Though, those who knew Mathilde said she had a high sex drive. Was she flattered by the attentions of a young man who lived by his own rules? Or did she just feel a maternal need to give him love?                                                                                                                                                             
  
Meanwhile Gerstl painted a series of paintings of the Schönberg family and their friends like Alban Berg as they all holidayed in Gmunden in 1907 and 1908. He also taught Schönberg – the rudiments of oil painting. Later Schönberg claimed that he had opened up Gerstl’s eyes and encouraged him to paint ‘modern-paintings,’ though some like Dr Raymond Coffer have disputed this. Still, the intellectual dialogue this group of musicians perhaps encouraged Gerstl to give his paintings a movement and flow and freed them up to became more aggressive, discordant and challenging. “What may be termed Gerstl’s “emancipation of brushstroke” developed progressively in the landscapes done during the artist’s last summers in Gmunden... The mock pointillism of some of the earlier works of this period gradually gave way to a much looser, almost uncontrolled application of paint. As forms are pulled apart, the pallet becomes noticeably brighter, so that the subjects ultimately appear to dissolve in light. It is not physical appearance, but rather the spiritual essence of the subject that is being presented. Many of these works verge on abstraction... and it is tempting to speculate that Gerstl might have evolved further in this direction had he lived.” (Jane Kallir, Richard Gerstl – Oskar Kokoschka, New York: Galerie St. Etienne, 1992, P. 11.) On the flipside, Coffer and has also convincingly proved that Gerstl influenced Schönberg’s painting and even his music.                                                                                                      
               

In 1908, Gerstl summered with the Schönberg family, friends and pupils in Traunsee. Despite their small size, unfinished look and hastily painted nature – I am irrationally fond of Gerstl’s oil paintings of the summer 1908 around Traun Lake and the mountain Schlafende Griechin (named so because - the sloping peak beside the water - resembled a sleeping Greek woman.) Gerstl’s nervous pointillist dots gave way to bolder gestural brushstrokes that approach Abstract Expressionism. Spontaneously painted in rhythmic brushstrokes, they have an immediacy, honesty and simplicity - that is charming and deceptive. They are utterly unpretentious – and that is good enough for me. “Gerstl intensified the Impressionist visual experience by adding an emotional charge to the painting of light. This developed, as his work proceeded, into a free, gestural handling that was increasingly remote from the object to be depicted. Within a few years he had made a dramatic thrust forward to the very brink of autonomous painting.” (Patrick Werkner, Egon Schiele and His Contemporaries: Austrian Painting and Drawing from 1900 to 1930 from the Leopold Collection, Vienna, Munich: Prestel, 1989, P. 39.) However, compared with his self-portraits, Gerstl’s other portraits of friends and small bravura landscapes lack something. There is a disconcerting incompleteness to them. It is as though Gerstl could not fully imagine the life of others or the world around him.


Most shocking of all is the incomplete, slap-dash look to most of Gerstl’s even signed and thus supposedly finished canvases. The Schönberg Family of 1908 - is still a bizarre painting. I have always liked it without reason. This painting pre-dated the most violent extremes of COBRA art of the 1940-50s with its infantile scrawls and lurid colours. I have always presumed that it was unfinished. However, it is in fact - signed by Gerstl in his looping joined-up handwriting in the bottom right-hand corner. Painted with meter long paint brushes that allowed Gerstl to adopt a more gestural approach from a distance to the canvas, and in parts with his hands so he could mould the paint, the colours were wild greens and yellows - scraped and dabbed blues and smeared hot reds and pinks – it could have been a bad drunken de Kooning of the 1960s. “Everything is centred around colour, contours only exist where colours come together and sometimes overlap each other. In a rapidly carried out piece of work, a stormy temperament captures the group of four people in a powerful colour experience of green, yellow, white, blue-black and violet tones. The representation of objects is reduced to a minimum which enables an almost unrestrained display of colour.” (Hans Plank, Klimt, Schiele, Kokoschka: Three Expressionists and Their Successors, Germany: Zachary Kwintner Books Ltd., 1991, P. 9.) The stress of these neurotic people is palpable. Perhaps there was some truth in what Schönberg said, “When this person invaded my house, he was a student of Lefler, for whom he supposedly painted too radically. But it was not quite so radical, for at that time his ideal… was Libermann… When he saw some quite miscarried attempts of mine, he took their miserable appearance to be intentional.” Well if Schönberg’s influence is clear on Gerstl the same is true in reverse.
           

Reading Schönberg’s accounts of Gerstl tied my stomach in knots. The sheer hatred and contempt is palpable as it is with most of those who later spoke of him. True his comments are from a cuckolded man. True it was probably easier for him to make Richard not his wife the scapegoat. However, had he never heard the saying: “don’t speak ill of the dead.” This was Vienna in the 1900s for God’s sake - everyone was at it In fact, Schönberg was to later have an affair with Alban Berg’s wife perhaps in revenge for Mathilde’s betrayal.                                                                                                                                                                      

In 1908, Gerstl finished with Lefler after his Professor collaboration on the Festzug, a parade commemorating the Emperor Franz Josef’s fiftieth jubilee. Lefler had also again declined to show his work in the annual student show. “As a painter, Gerstl was totally incorruptible. He painted only what he considered right, never for money. I have no idea if he ever earned anything from his art. His parents must have supported him, otherwise he could never have been so uncompromising in his works.” (Victor Hammer, Richard Gerstl – Oskar Kokoschka, New York: Galerie St. Etienne, 1992, P. 29.)                                                                                                                                


Gerstl never exhibited in his lifetime. As I have mentioned before - it was not that he did not get offers – he did. However, he turned them all down or frightened off those who had thought to risk showing his work. Offered a place in 1908, in a major exhibition of Austrian art at the prestigious Miethke Gallery - which included works by Vienna’s greatest artist at the time Gustav Klimt - what did Gerstl do? He refused to have his work hung in the same show as Klimt! Can you name me a twenty-five-year-old artist today who would refuse to have their work shown in the same room as Anselm Kiefer, Julian Schnabel, Jeff Koons or Damien Hirst? Talk about cutting off your nose to spite your face! Even if he hated everything Klimt stood for (which he did) why not take the opportunity to make a case for his own art?                                                                                                                        

A sign of Gerstl’s growing mental instability was the letter written in crazed handwriting which he sent on 22ed July 1908 – to the ministry of culture and education - in which he told of his unfair treatment at the hands of Professor Lefler. Gerstl complained that Lefler had refused to show his canvases at the annual student exhibition – thus preventing him the opportunity of winning the academy prizes. I do not blame Gerstl – but I could have told him it was a waste of time. The art world is a tea-party run by ruthless father figures and cunning society-ladies – so don’t expect to be invited back if you throw over the tea tray too many times. “Madness – or the affectation of madness – is the refuge of many rebellious young men, but if the conceit is pushed too far, its perpetrator, like Gerstl, risks self-annihilation. Feigned madness, as demonstrated by Shakespeare’s Hamlet, is sometimes no less dangerous than the real thing.” (Jane Kallir, Richard Gerstl – Oskar Kokoschka, New York: Galerie St. Etienne, 1992, P. 12.)                                                                                               


Later that summer, on August 26th 1908, while in Gmunden - Arnold Schönberg discovered Gerstl and Mathilde in an uncompromising position. He begged his wife to stay with him - but she left with Gerstl. The shame-faced couple left for Vienna. When he and Mathilda fled, Gerstl left behind around 20-25 paintings with a farmer’s family who later threw them out. “And who can blame them for that? The aesthetic of what Richard Gerstl had accomplished was too new for it to be recognisable as art.” (Diethard Leopold, Richard Gerstl, Munich: Hirmer, 2017, P. 49.) Distraught, Schönberg contemplated suicide but did not go through with it. Schonberg reported his wife missing to the police and they found the couple in a pension in a suburb of Vienna. Mathilda agreed to return to Arnold which she did on August 30th seeking his forgiveness.                                                                                                   


Richard, returned to live at his family home where he painted his famous Nude Self-Portrait. “When Richard Gerstl painted his full-length Nude Self-Portrait, in September 1908… just thirteen days had elapsed since his lover had returned to her husband. He was two days shy of his twenty-fifth birthday. Less than eight weeks later, he was dead.” (Raymond Coffer, Richard Gerstl, Neue Galerie, Munich: Hirmer, 2017, P. 49.) Gerstl’s Nude Self-Portrait of 12/9/1908 painted in his family living room, is as shocking as his Self-Portrait Laughing - in its high keyed colour, scribbled and scrapped paint, sweeping brushstrokes, relatively thick paint and large size – it anticipated not only Expressionism of the 1910s but also Neo-Expressionism of the late 1970s and early 1980s. “Gerstl, in his self-portraits, records his own nakedness and then imparts an emotional content to it in the process of painting – a process in which the surrounding space plays a decisive part... Gerstl links person and space through a painterly technique derived from Impressionism.”(Patrick Werkner, Egon Schiele and His Contemporaries: Austrian Painting and Drawing from 1900 to 1930 from the Leopold Collection, Vienna, Munich: Prestel, 1989, P. 35.)                                                                              


It is an image of a man searching for honesty and past caring what others think. “Possibly the artist had suffered all along from a manic-depressive syndrome, as suggested not only by his erratic temper, but also by the peculiar dual persona evident in surviving photographs. In certain of these photos, the artist presents himself as a young dandy – immaculately groomed and with luxuriant dark, wavy hair. However, in periods of distress – as, for example, when he was expelled from Griepenkerl’s class – Gerstl tended to neglect his dress and, even stranger, to shave his head in the manner customary for convicts.” (Jane Kallir, Richard Gerstl – Oskar Kokoschka, New York: Galerie St. Etienne, 1992, P. 12.)                          


Again, Gerstl struggled to place himself in a defined space and express his inner turmoil at the same time. His pale, tall, rake-thin, white body stands out against the pale blue, light green and dark blue of the wall behind him - along his right-hand side a bright blue line pulsates in a spectral way. He avoids the total pornography of his penis and scrotum - by only roughly suggesting them. In fact, his penis almost seems to be crawling back into his pelvis. His exposure is not aggressive or sexual in any way – it seems paled by shame and self-stigmatization. However, Dr Raymond Coffer believed that it symbolised Gerstl’s sense of sexual pride after continuing his affair with Mathilde. While I found Coffer’s interpretation of Gerstl’s final Nude Self-Portrait as a statement of sexual pride interesting - I also felt that with its lacerating brushstrokes and Gerstl’s skeletal figure held a premonition of his suicide. I was also doubtful about Coffer’s assertion that Gerstl’s suicide was unpremeditated. I thought it would be highly unusual for him to kill himself spontaneously - as most suicides come after some considerable mental deterioration. But if he were like me, he might have documented this self-immolation wish more explicitly in other self-portraits – which apart from Fragment of a Full-Length Self-Portrait Laughing -  he didn’t. So maybe his suicide - which came at a highly traumatic moment in his life - was spontaneous.                             


The modernity of Gerstl’s Nude Self-Portrait is best seen in contrast with Gerstl’s other more conventional self-portraits of himself in his studio - and fully clothed in his old-fashioned suit and tie - from earlier in the year. The former is universal and timeless. The later, still embedded in the masks and conventions of a society on the edge of ruin - but determined to put up a good front.


Gerstl found a new studio in Vienna and according to Coffer, Mathilda visited Gerstl in his studio where he began but did not finish his last canvas Seated Female Nude -  which Coffer believes was of Mathilda. The mirror behind Mathilda in Seated Female Nude was the same mirror that Gerstl later killed himself in front of. The couple also resumed their sexual relationship. At the beginning of November 1908, Gerstl may have proposed to Mathilda - forcing her to choose between him and her husband and family and she refused. Anton Webern who had befriended Gerstl, appealed to Mathilda’s maternal duty and persuaded her to return to Arnold for the sake of her children. She would never see Richard again. Gerstl was left feeling abandoned and bereft. He had lost his lover, betrayed the few friends he had, burnt all his bridges at the academy – and he was still virtually unknown in Vienna.


On the night of 4th November, the night before a recital by Schönberg’s pupils - that Gerstl was of course not invited to - Gerstl stood in front of the mirror he had used for his self-portraits - hung himself and stabbed himself in the heart with a butcher’s knife. Otto Breicha even suggested that Gerstl castrated himself. It seems very extreme and unlikely to me. I confess, that I was to paint a number of self-portraits holding a knife to my penis as a youth - but I never actually castrated myself. Also I wondered if Otto Breicha recollections were coloured by the rumours Rudolf Schwarzkogler a later Austrian Actionist had killed himself through auto castration -  gossip subsequently disproved.
            

To avoid scandal, Gerstl’s family did not reveal the details of their son’s death and his affair with Mathilda was kept secret by all parties for fifty years after his death. A physician issued a certificate of insanity which granted Gerstl a Christian burial. After his death, Mathilde wrote in a letter to Gerstl’s brother Alois: “Richard has certainly chosen the less painful road. Living in such conditions is awfully difficult.” Later, Werner Hoffman the acclaimed Viennese historian and assistant curator of the Albertina Museum in Vienna wrote, “He died because he had lost faith in the healing, rescuing power of the creative act”.                                                            
                

Although the press release to Gerstl’s first exhibition at the Neue Galerie in Vienna in 1931 stated that Gerstl had destroyed “all documents, letters and almost everything else in his studio,” some like Otto Breicha disputed this. However, it is likely that before his death, he did burn all his letters. How many of his artworks Gerstl destroyed is still open to debate. But most agree that he destroyed most of his drawings. Given that few of his academic works survive also suggest that he destroyed them too and given his critical approach to his work from the start - he may have destroyed works he did not like as he went along. Today only about 70 paintings (mostly oils on cardboard or canvas) and 7 drawings in chalk, ink or watercolour by Gerstl survive and most date from 1905-1908 - the period of Gerstl’s friendship with Schönberg. If Gerstl did destroy any sizable number of his paintings – it was a sad loss. It always angers me when I hear of artists destroying their work. As an art lover, I feel cheated of answers. No more so than in Gerstl’s case. What kinds of paintings might he have destroyed? As with many other aspects of Gerstl one can only speculate. Were there even more extreme self-portraits than the ones that escaped his hand? Were there any erotic works? Did he destroy any other nudes of Mathilde? Perhaps there were paintings of him and Mathilde? As for the letters he destroyed – they more than anything would have explained a lot. They would have revealed the extent of Mathilde’s involvement for one thing. Given his youth, Gerstl’s existing small oeuvre still contains a number of mediocre and less convincing works. There was a kitsch quality to Gerstl’s academic old-masterish portraits of 1902 and to many of his pointillist portraits of 1906.


One surviving painting, Nude in Garden – with its rapidly scrawled almost abstract forms over a darkly primed canvas – reminds me of early Francis Bacon. Was this female nude Mathilde? Other’s like Dr Raymond Coffer have suggested it was in fact another self-portrait of Gerstl painting nude in front of a nightmarish garden party. Nude in Garden, I still find perplexing, I have looked and looked again at it and I cannot say conclusively that it is either a female nude or a self-portrait, though its ambiguity and unfinished quality is intriguing.
           

I think Vienna breathed a sigh of relief when Gerstl died - and promptly set about forgetting him. His family tried also to forget the shame of their son who went mad and had taken his own life. What works survived - his brother Alois saved. They were stored in a warehouse until 1931 when he art dealer Otto Nierenstein saw the remaining works that Alois held and instantly recognized their importance. Nierenstein put his gallery stamp on the works and catalogued them for his gallery. Exhibited for the first time at the Neue Galerie in Vienna in 1931, Gerstl’s paintings achieved wide acclaim and his work subsequently travelled to Salzburg and four other German cities. However, the rise of Hitler, the Anschluss, and the Second World War, again sent Gerstl’s work into obscurity. Only for it to be rediscovered and exhibited again in 1956 at the Venice Biennale bringing his work to international recognition for the first time. His work has since then has been regularly exhibited in Austria and in group-shows of Austrian Modernism internationally.                                                                                                                                                      

As I have mentioned, Schönberg was to become widely acknowledged as one of the most innovative atonal composers of the Twentieth century (for all that matters). Personally, I still cannot sit and listen to his pretentious clatter. He also made a minor name for himself as an amateur Expressionist painter. Although the composer had painted with Gerstl and some of his early works survive, his first dated painting was created six weeks after Gerstl’s death and of the 65 oils attributed to Schönberg, two thirds of them were created in the following two years.                                                                                                                              

You know I am convinced that art does not make people go mad – it keeps people on the verge of madness a safe outlet. Art did not destroy Gerstl - his uncompromising personality and mental frailty doomed him. But Gerstl’s drive to paint with extreme expressivity certaintly did his mental health no favours. You see the secret to judging an Expressionist artist is their life. Most never sought to shock, they never sought madness, they never wanted to be martyrs – yet their personalities unconsciously drove them to it. Regardless of the risks – they could not live by other men’s rules and other men’s conventions – they had to find their own sense of reality and they paid the price. I am sure countless people tried to council Richard and guide him away from his self-destructive path – but he could not conform.
              

As Roberta Smith observed: “Gerstl had and unlimited faith in both the varied expressive powers of oil paint and his own abilities to summon them… Gerstl was after the immediacy of paint on canvas and of life itself, both its inner and outer purpose.” (Roberta Smith, Spending Through Life, With Sparks, The New York Times, 19th July, 2017.) In many ways, the closest painter to Gerstl was Chaim Soutine who was ten years younger than Gerstl and was also Jewish but only seriously began painting ten years after Gerstl’s death. If the world shimmered, liquefied and writhed in Gerstl’s paintings – it looked wrecked by an earthquake in Soutine’s later paintings. However, Clement Greenberg questioned the expressive intensity of Soutine who he observed, “… aimed for a maximum of expressive intensity and he asked, perhaps, too much of painting.”  (Clement Greenberg, Chaim Soutine, 1951, Clement Greenberg: The Collected Essays and Criticism, Chicago: The University of Chicago, 1995, P. 72.) and as Hilton Kramer reiterated, “The life of Chaim Soutine is a harrowing fable of aspirations impossible to realise, emotions impossible to appease, appetites impossible to satisfy.” (Hilton Kramer, Soutine and the Problem of Expressionism, The Age of the Avant-Garde, New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1973, P. 229.) Similarly, one feels that Gerstl asked too much of art and of himself. Extreme expressivity is almost unbearable not only for the average viewer - but for the artist as well. The expressivity of Gerstl’s paintings of 1907-8 were 100% authentic and seemingly torn from his central nervous system. But that extreme expressivity endangered both Gerstl’s sanity and must have eventually contributed to his suicide. That is why so many Expressionists after an initial outburst of volcanic creativity - later retired from risking their lives with every brushstroke - and became mere pastichers of their earlier style. It is also why so many pseudo-Expressionists refused to risk their sanity and lives for true expression - and opted for just the style and theatrics of Expressionism.
            

Was Gerstl destined to become a great artist? It is hard to tell given the briefness of his career and scant surviving oeuvre. Perhaps he was too wild, inconsistent and undisciplined to become a great master. However, given time he might have become one. As his decimated oeuvre stands today – there are simply too few examples to judge him. Although the art critic Wolfgang Born later called Gerstl the “Austrian Van Gogh”, I think this hyperbole was true in only the coarsest sense. Van Gogh’s oeuvre was anything but immature, it was consistent and over-whelming in its broad humanity, which extended to everything from a tangle of weeds to a man tilling a field. Gerstl’s simply did not have the ambition, work ethic, hard won drawing skills, painterly originality or scope of van Gogh. However, we can see in Gerstl’s paintings of 1907-8 how he anticipated so many expressive painters from Chaim Soutine, Willem de Kooning, Leon Kossoff to Frank Auerbach amongst many others – all of whom were notable for their extreme manipulation of oil paint. There is so much lousy, cheap and easy ‘bad’ or ‘expressive’ painting today made by both men and women, but they should look upon Gerstl with humility and question whether they are more real than him - and if they would ever be willing to feel as deeply as he did - when it came at such a price!