Objects as History in Twentieth-Century German Art: Beckmann to Beuys (review)

Peter Chametzky aims to analyze what he sees as some of the most representative—neither the most famous, nor the most beautiful or influential—works of art made in twentieth-century Germany, therefore considering artworks as tangible signs of their epoch and as coherent parts of national history. Walking through the last century in six chapters, the author brings to his readers a few notable art movements like Dada and Expressionism, but also Nazi art (revisiting Arno Breker’s monumental sculptures in chapter 5), plus various postwar artifacts from West and East Germany alike, and post-1989 avant-garde montages.

As such, Objects as History in Twentieth-Century German Art is not an art book per se (even though it features many rare reproductions), and it is not meant to be used as another “History of German Art,” which it is not. It is rather an analysis of how some select German artworks participated in, echoed, and retold stories related to actual events, inside or outside Germany. As the author states right from the first page: “I study works of German art as representatives, rather than representations, of twentieth-century history.”

Taking hints from Michael Baxandall’s theory, according to which “fifteenth-century Italian Renaissance works, regardless of their subject matter, are both products and evidence of their makers’ and their audience’s visual understanding of the world” (13), Chametzky investigates applying this transposed approach to a selection of German artworks. As his point of departure, the author compares how the sinking of the Titanic in 1912 was immediately represented in two forms by (at least) two German artists: in a long forgotten silent film (In Nacht und Eis, directed by Mime Misu [1912]), but also in a lesser-known painting by Max Beckmann (“The Sinking of the Titanic”), made the following year. While the movie actually dramatized the event into a melodrama, Chametzky interprets Beckmann’s painting as “an impersonal and undramatic event” (13); perhaps as a consequence, its reception when it was presented in Berlin was poor, and even the Expressionist journal Der Sturm was negative toward it.

Possibly the most thought-provoking, chapter 2 questions German-Jewish identity in works from the Dada movement, which led to the infamous “Degenerate Art Exhibition” in 1937. Other case studies include how Hannah Höch reworked Albert Einstein’s image into a Dada montage in 1919, plus discussions on painters like George Grosz, Joseph Beuys, and Gerhard Richter. A whole chapter is dedicated to Will Baumeister’s anti-Nazi postal artworks and collages made during the 1940s, even though his deconstructive artworks became widely known only decades later. Elsewhere, some commemorative works like Fritz Koelle’s “Unknown Prisoner” (a sculpture from 1950 in Dachau’s Concentration Camp Memorial) are studied as well.

Although it is clearly selective, Chametzky’s book offers an interesting theoretical analysis of German art. Its sources and documentation are abundant. Chametzky’s knowledge of German art is impressive. What makes this book weaker is the fact that the whole analysis is retrospective: after being revisited and reconsidered, these lesser-known artworks are now considered “representative,” even though some of them—but not all—went unnoticed in their time.

Although it is not essential reading (because it is so selective in its topics and retrospective in its approach), Objects as History in Twentieth-Century German Art might reach readers who are already familiar with these works and artists. Perhaps graduate students in history, memory studies, and sociology of art will benefit from it.