Haystack

Haystack (pronounced hey-stak)

(1) A stack, pile or bindle of hay (cut grass) with a conical or ridged top, built up in the mowed field so as to prevent the accumulation of moisture and promote drying.

(2) Any mix of green leafy plants used for fodder.

(3) In the slang of weed smokers, (1) a device (pipe or bong) with an untypically large bowl in which the marijuana is able to be packed in an unusually large quantity or (2) any device where the weed is stacked above the rim of the cone piece.

(3) In slang, among disapproving carnivores, a disparaging terms for salads or dishes made predominately with leafy greens.

Mid 1400s: The construct was hay + stack.  Hay (mown grass) was a pre-900 Middle English word from the Old English hēg, from the Anglian Old English heg & heig and the West Saxon Old English hig (grass cut or mown for fodder), from the Proto-Germanic haujam (literally “that which is cut” or “that which can be mowed”), from the primitive Indo-European kau- (to hew, strike) which was the source also of the Old English heawan (“to cut” and linked to the modern English “to hew”).  Hay’s cognates included the Old Norse hey, the Old Frisian ha, the Middle Dutch hoy, the Gothic hawi, the West Frisian hea, the Alemannic German Heuw, the Cimbrian höobe, the Dutch hooi, the German Heu, the Luxembourgish Hee, the Mòcheno hei, the Yiddish היי (hey), the Danish hø, the Faroese hoyggj, the Gutnish hoy, the Icelandic hey, the Norwegian Bokmål, the Norwegian Nynorsk høy and the Swedish hö; all meant “hay” although use to refer also to grass (later to be used as hay) is documented.  Hay is the ISO’s (International Standards Organization) translingual (symbol ISO 639-3) language code for Haya and, in slang, one of many terms for marijuana (cannabis).  A hay is a net set around the haunt of an animal (especially rabbits or hares).

1962 BRM P57.

In its original configuration the P57's V8 was fitted with “open stack” exhausts.  Sadly, the charismatic array of eight pipes proved prone to cracking and was replaced with a more conventional arrangement which sacrificed a few HP (horsepower) at the upper end of the rev-range but proved robust.  Built for Formula One's “voiturette era” (1961-1965) and powered by a jewel-like 1.5 litre V8, the P57 in 1962 claimed both the constructer's and driver's championships.  Open stack exhausts are still seen in categories like drag racing but there they need to endure only for ¼ mile (402 metre) runs and (baring accidents) are not subject to lateral forces.

Stack dates from 1250–1300 and was from the Middle English stak (pile, heap or group of things, especially a pile of grain in the sheaf in circular or rectangular form), from a Scandinavian source akin to the Old Norse stakkr (haystack), thought from the Proto-Germanic stakkoz & stakon- (a stake), from the primitive Indo-European stog- a variant of steg (pole; stick (source of the English “stake”, the Old Church Slavonic stogu (heap), the Russian stog (haystack) and the Lithuanian stokas (pillar)).  It was cognate with the Danish stak and the Swedish stack (heap, stack).  “Smokestack” and the derived clipping “stack” were by the 1660s in use to describe tall chimneys, initially when arrayed in a cluster but by 1825 it’s recorded also of the “single stacks” on steam locomotives and steamships.  In English parish records, “Stack” is recorded as a surname as early as the twelfth century and there are a variety of explanations for the origin (which may between regions have differed) and in at least some cases there may be a connection with use of “stack” in agriculture (such as peripatetic workers who travelled between farms specifically to “build haystacks”).  In societies where so much of the economy was based on farming and populations substantially were rural, such links were common.    

Wickes-class four stack destroyer USS Buchanan (DD-131), “laying down smoke” during sea trials, 1919.

One of the US Navy's 273 World War I (1914-1918) era “four stackers”, in 1940 she was transferred to the Royal Navy under the Destroyers for Bases Agreement and re-named HMS Campbeltown (I42).  She was destroyed during the St. Nazaire Raid when, loaded with four tons of explosive, she was used a “floating bomb” and rammed into the gates of the Forme Ecluse Louis Joubert dry dock, putting the facility out of use for the duration of the war.

In naval use, the official Admiralty term was “funnel” and warships were in some listings (especially identification charts which used silhouettes) listed thus (“three funnel cruiser”; “four funnel destroyer”) but the sailors’ slang was “two stacker”, “three stacker” etc.  In libraries, “stacks” in the sense of “set of shelves on which books arranged) was in use by the late 1870s and in computer software, the “stack” was first documented in 1960 to describe a collection of elements which work in unison, the original idea being of a stack of things, each subsequent object depending on the one below to run and by the time all are assembled, the whole can function (ie an early instance of “granular” software”).  Later, the word was applied to other concepts, notably the LIFO (last in, first out) model in data structure (LIFO) describing objects added (push) and removed (pop) from the same end.  Stack is a noun & verb, stackage, stacker & stackback are nouns, stacking is a noun & verb, stacked is a verb & adjective and stackless, stacky & stackful are adjectives; the noun plural is stacks.  Haystack is a noun; the noun plural is haystacks.

In Middle English, the alternative forms were hay-cock and its variants (haycok, hacoke & haycoke), all synonymous with grass-cock, hayrick & haystack and referencing the same conical stacks of cut grass.  The haystack was a product of the cutting of grass and subsequently curing it to make hay as fodder for animals.  Just as cheese was made as a means of preserving milk for later consumption, so the cutting a stacking of hay was a way to ensure there would be feed for livestock during the months when the growth of grass was minimal.  There are many derived terms associated with haymaking and haystacks (hayfork, hayknife, haybailer hay mover, hay rake, hayshed etc) but there’s no evidence “haystacker” was ever used of those individuals who “stacked hay into haystacks”.  The form “haymaker” exists but this seems to have been coined to describe machines built for the purpose rather than the workers.  This is likely because it was a seasonal event in which many farm-workers (although there clearly were some “travelling contractors” who went from farm-to-farm) tended to be involved and, needed no specialized skill-set, the term never appeared; it was a task done rather than a job description.

A young lady with hayfork (now better known as a “pitchfork”, building her haystack.

The haystack was a part of agricultural practice even before the civilizations of Antiquity (Egyptians, Greeks, Romans etc) developed the process on a grander scale.  The objective of stacking the hay in conical formations was as protection from pests and the elements and farmers paid much attention to location, the ideal site for a haystack being somewhere slightly elevated, well-drained and with a foundation not prone to promoting moisture absorption (ideally with a bottom layer of some coarse material to promote air-flow between hay and surface.  Usually, a pole was pounded into the ground to prove the structure with a basic structural rigidity and as each layer is added and compacted, the stack grows upwards and outwards, assuming the distinctive shape, the angles at the top fashioned to optimize the shedding of rainwater.  In a sense, the outermost layer is sacrificial in that it will weather and discolour but, if the structure is well-packed, what lies within will retain its green hue and smell “sweet” to livestock.

American Sapphic, Lindsay Lohan (b 1986) & former special friend Samantha Ronson (b 1977) by Ben Tegel after American Gothic (1930) by Grant Wood (1891-1942).  Ms Ronson is depicted holding pitchfork, a tool which, for the manual handling of hay, cannot be improved; like the teaspoon or pencil, it has attained its final evolutionary form.

A “Hawaiian haystack” is a meal of rice with the diner's choice of toppings such as chicken, pineapple, noodles and cheese; a favorite of resort style hotels and cruise ship operators, usually the dish is served buffet-style.  The slang phrase “hit the hay” dates from at least the early nineteenth century when literally it meant “to go to the barn and sleep on an ad-hoc “bed of hay” but by 1903 it was being recorded as meaning simply “going to bed”.  A “roll in the hay” or “romp in the hay” were both euphemisms for “a session of sexual intercourse (usually without any hint of subsequent commitment) and that use is documented only from early in World War II (1939-1945) among US soldiers but when the expression first was used is unknown.  The term “haywire” (usually as “gone haywire” or “gone haywire”) originally meant “likely to become tangled unpredictably to the point of unusability or fall apart”; the idea was of items bound together only with the soft, springy wire (baler twine) used to bind hay bales.  It’s said first to have been used as “haywire outfit” in New England lumber camps (circa 1905) to describe collections of logging tools bound in a haphazard manner and prone to coming adrift.  From that, “haywire” enjoyed some mission creep and came to mean people or machinery behaving erratically or falling apart.  In the modern idiom, the most common use (as “went haywire”) is to describe some act (such as removing a part from a machine) which results in the whole mechanism becoming messed up.

Cylindrical (“rounds” in the jargon) bales of hay stacked in a field.

The figurative term “needlestack” summons the idea of a “stack of needles” and is an allusion to the difficulty in finding a particular object among one of many which are similar or even close to identical.  The word was a back-formation from the phrase “finding a needle in a haystack” which is a much more popular expression although finding a needle in a needlestack is much harder.  Finding a needle in a haystack is merely messy and time-consuming whereas finding a needle in a needlestack can at least verge on the impossible.  The popular TV science show Mythbusters compared methods and found there were techniques which could “speed up” finding a needle in a haystack”, the use of water most efficient (metal being heavier than straw, the needle would sink) while fire worked but was slow and messy and a magnet was ideal (assume the needle remained ferromagnetic).  Obviously, giant magnets, metal detectors or X-ray machines quickly would find even tiny pieces of metal but the Mythbusters crew wanted practical, “real world” examples which would have been viable centuries earlier when first the phrase was used.  The finding of a “bone needle” was considered to be more difficult (fire not recommended and a magnet obviously useless) and the team concluded that whatever the method, the task remained challenging enough for the saying still to have validity.

Haystack News which “finds needles in the haystack”.

Founded in 2013, what prompted the creation of Haystack TV was that in the US, without a cable TV subscription, it was difficult to find news content, the idea being that finding news among the dozens of available channels was like “looking for a needle in a haystack”.  It took until 2015 for the service to start with Haystack TV mission statement saying its objective was to “stream high-quality, trusted news without sifting through masses of irrelevant video.”  Now known as Haystack News, the model is a free, advertising supported streaming service for local, national and international news video available on smart TVs, over-the-top platforms and mobile apps; in the modern way, data (location, topics of interest, favorite sources etc) harvested from each user is used to generate personalized playlist of short news clips.  Initially, the focus was on US news content but in 2019, the vista expanded with clips from more than 200 local TV stations including overseas content.  By 2026, the catchment had expanded to some 400 including Africanews, Al Jazeera, CBC, DW (Deutsche Welle, Euronews, France 24 and i24 News.

A haymaker (in the Middle English originally heymakere) was a machine (purpose built or adapted) used in the production of hay (there scant evident ever it widely was used of workers involved in the process) and in informal use was “a very powerful punch”, especially one which “knocks down an opponent” (on the model of the sweep of a scythe levelling tall grass).  However, some etymologists suggest a more likely origin is as a reference to the strong, muscular arms of the men who wielded the scythes when “cutting hay”.  Figuratively, by extension, it came also to mean “any decisive blow, shock, or forceful action” although that use is now less common.  A haymonger (from the Middle English heimongere, heymonger & heymongere) was “a trader who deals in hay” and although the practices were never formalized in the manner of modern commodity markets, surviving documents suggest that as early as the 1500s there was something like a “proto futures market” in hay as farmers sought to hedge against variables (flood, drought price movements etc) and ensure they’d have a stock of fodder available at a known price.  Hayseeds literally were “seeds from grass that has become hay” and the word was applied generally to the cruft from bits of hay (ie not actually seeds) that sticks to clothing etc.  By extension, a “hayseed” was “a yokel or country bumpkin” (ie a person thought rustic or unsophisticated).

Bales of hay, stacked in a hay shed.  

Manufacturers list hay sheds as specific designs (classically, two or three sides (facing the prevailing weather) and a roof) so if a hay shed is used for another purpose it's a “re-purposed hay shed” whereas if hay is stored in a different type of shed, it might be described as “my hay shed” but its really a shed in which hay is being stored.  Being practical folk, this distinction is unlikely to be something on which many farmers much dwell.

Originally, haystacks were “stack of hay: which might vary in size and shape but the general practice was to create something vaguely conical; rather than being a choice, this was dictated by the physics in that a cone allowed the largest volume to be stacked with the smallest footprint as well as minimizing moisture intrusion.  The modern practice however is for hay to be bound into bales either cylindrical (“rounds”) or cuboid (a rectangular prism) in shape and which is chosen is a product of the machinery available, available storage capacity, heard size and in some cases whether the hay is to be transported by road.  By virtue of their shape, cylindrical bales tend to shed water which may reach the surface during rainfall so any spoilage usually is restricted to the inch or so of the outermost layer, making them suited to outdoor storage; their density also makes them more efficient for fermenting silage.  The cuboid bale, because of the upper surface area, acts in the rain like a sponge, meaning they should be stored under cover and the advantage of the regular shape is that when stacked, the cuboids create no waste space, unlike rounds typically cost around 15-20% in unused space.  The same equation means cuboids are best suited to be transported by truck.  The modern practice (bales now produced in standardized sizes using machines which sometimes will as part of the process wrap them in a waterproof plastic sheeting) means that the word “haystack” now more accurately reflects a number of bales “stacked” in a shed or on the land while the original conical “stack” would more accurately be called a “pile”.  However, because of centuries of use, the term continues to be applied to both although “bale stack” does exist in the jargon of farming.

Bales of hay being trucked to somewhere.  Both cuboids and rounds can be transported thus but, as with storage, the space efficiency of the former is superior.

The proverb “make hay while the sun shines” is now used figuratively to mean “one should act while an opportunity exists and take action while a situation is favourable” but the origin was literal.  Until very recently, weather forecasting was most inexact and because the moisture content of hay was of great significance (spoilage and the risk of spontaneous combustion), it was important for farmers to avail themselves of sunny, dry condition to cut, dry and gather the grass to be assembled into haystacks.  Dating from a time when weather forecasting essentially was “tomorrow the weather will be much the same as today, two times out of three”, the proverb seems to have originated in Tudor times (1485-1603) and the first known reference is from 1546.  Since the mid seventeenth century, it has been used figuratively.  Phrases like “carpe diem” (seize the day), “grasp the nettle” & “strike while the iron is hot” impart a similar meaning.

Defendants in the dock at the first Nuremberg Trial, the right-hand side of the glass-fronted interpreters' booth seen at the top right corner.

At the first Nuremberg trial (1945-1946), an IMT (International Military Tribunal) was convened to try two-dozen surviving members of the Nazi regime in Germany (1933-1945), 22 of the accused appearing in court, one having committed suicide by hanging (with his underpants stuffed in his mouth to limit the noise) prior to proceedings beginning and one was tried in absentia.  The proceedings were conducted in four languages (English, French, German and Russian) with “simultaneous translation” provided by a rotating group of translators, all those in the courtroom able to listen (through headphones) in any of these language.  It’s no exaggeration to say it was the work of the translators and interpreters that made possible the 13 Nuremberg Trials in the form they took and the implementation of simultaneous interpretation was ground-breaking, the undertaking all the more remarkable because of the scale.  The main trial was conducted over ten months with 210 sitting days and so much material was presented the published transcripts filled 42 volumes, thus the references to “the trial of six million words.”  Logistically, the approach was vital because had the traditional approach been pursued, the trial as conducted would have been impractical because the usual protocol had been: (1) One speaker would deliver remarks in German while (2) interpreters took notes. After the speaker was finished, (3) one interpreter would interpret into French, followed by (4) an interpretation in Russian, and then (5) in English.  Things thus would have lasted perhaps four times as long but with “simultaneous translation” (actually there was a lag of 6-8 seconds) it was as close to “real-time” as was possible.  Not until the 2020s did advances in generative AI (artificial intelligence) trained on LLM (large language models) mean machines alone could improve on what was done in 1945-1946.  Of course, an AI powered machine (in the form of a static device such as a speaker) could not add meaning by the use of NVC (nonverbal communication such as gestures or facial expressions) as is possible for a flesh & blood interpreter but as the occasionally disturbing “deep fake” videos illustrate, NVC certainly is possible on screen and with advances in robotics, it will be only a matter of time before such things can be done in three dimensions.  Now, we can all carry in our pockets a device able accurately (and even idiosyncratically) to translate dozens of languages as text or voice so the days of the profession of interpreter being a good career choice for a gifted linguist may be numbered.      

Wily old Franz von Papen (1879-1969; Chancellor of Germany 1932 & vice chancellor 1933-1934) wearing IBM headphones, undergoing cross-examination.  He was one of three defendants granted an acquittal.

Before the 13 Nuremberg Trials (the subsequent 12 conducted between 1946-1949), there had been only limited experiments with simultaneous translation.  Historically, the need in international relations had been limited because French had long been the “official language of diplomacy” and the first notable shift came with the Paris Peace Conference (1919-1920) and subsequently the League of Nations (1920-1946), the British succeeded in convincing the participants to conduct the proceedings in English (which really was an indication of growing US influence).  At these venues, what was done came to be known as “whispered interpretation” with an interpreter literally “whispering a translation into a recipient’s ear.”  That was less than satisfactory and what smoothed the path to simultaneous interpretation was the development in the 1920s of a technology ultimately purchased by IBM (International Business Machines) and released commercially as the “IBM Hushaphone Filene-Findlay System” (more commonly called the “International Translator System”), first used at the ILO (International Labor Organization) conference in Geneva in 1927.  So what was done at Nuremberg was not exactly new but it was there the system came to wider attention and for IBM, providing (at no charge) the four tons of electronic equipment including 300 headsets (an additional 300 were borrowed from Geneva) and miles of cable proved a good investment, the publicity generated meaning one of the corporation’s first sales of the system was to the UN (United Nations) headquarters in New York.  The technology alone however was not enough and some potential interpreters who had passed the early evaluation tests proved unsuitable because they found it impossible to adapt to the demands imposed by the electronics; only some 5% of the 700-odd evaluated proved viable interpreters with “the interpreters the IMT reject” sent to what they called “Siberia” (administrative tasks or the dreary job of translating documents).  Those who made the cut spent their shifts in booths behind thick glass although the top was open so the soundproofing was only partial and the booth was located directly adjacent to the dock in which sat the defendants.

Although there was the odd error, the interpreters were thought to have done an fine job although not all were impressed, several entries in the diary of the British alternate judge Norman Birkett (Later Lord Birkett, 1883–1962) revealing his opinion of the breed:  “When a perfectly futile cross-examination is combined with a translation which murders the English language, then the misery of the Bench is almost insupportable.”  “Dubost [French prosecutor Charles Dubost (1905–1991)] is at the microphone again, making his final speech. He is robust and vigorous; but such is the irony of fate that he is being translated by a stout, tenor-voiced man with the 'refayned' and precious accents of a decaying pontiff. It recalls irresistibly a late comer making an apology at the Vicarage Garden Party in the village, rather than the grim and stern prosecution of the major war criminals.”  “But translators are a race apart - touchy, vain, unaccountable, full of vagaries, puffed up with self-importance of the most explosive kind, inexpressibly egotistical, and, as a rule, violent opponents of soap and sunlight.”  Mr Justice Birkitt always made his feelings clear.

The Passionate Haystack at work: British Army Captain Duncan (later Sir Duncan) Macintosh (1904-1966, left), Margot Bortlein (1912-2008, centre) and US Army Lieutenant Peter Uiberall (1911-2007, right).

The best-remembered for the translators was Margot Bortlin (1912-2008) and her place in the annals of the trial is due wholly to the nickname bestowed on her by journalists: “the Passionate Haystack”, the appellation soon picked by the soldiers and men on the legal teams.  The “haystack” element in the nickname came from her luxuriant fair hair which, in court, she would assemble as an “updo” in a shape which (at least in the minds of the men watching) recalled a haystack and such was the upper volume she was compelled to wear the headband of her headphones around the back of her head rather than atop as was the usual practice.  These days, observers of such things playfully might describe her hair as “an installation”.  The “passionate” part was a tribute to her style of translation, said by Dr Francesca Gaiba (b 1971) in The Origins of Simultaneous Interpreting: The Nuremberg Trial (1998) to have been delivered “with great emphasis, smiling and frowning, with sweeping gestures and dramatic vocal inflections.”  It's not known if the Passionate Haystack had any theatrical training but her use of NVC must have been striking compared with the performances of her colleagues who tended to sit inertly and speak in an unrelenting monotone.  Intriguingly, the journalist & author Rebecca West (1892–1983), no stranger to men's rich lexicon of sexist disparagement, who covered the trial made only an oblique reference to the drama in the delivery, reporting: “When it is divulged that one of the most gifted interpreters, a handsome young woman from Wisconsin, is known as the Passionate Haystack, care is taken to point out that it implies no reflection on her temperament but only a tribute to a remarkable hair-do.”  Wisconsin produces almost a quarter of the nation's butter and cheese so is a state of many haystacks.

Those in court rise in their places as the judges enter the chamber, Ms Bortlein (arrowed) looking down at her papers.  Although not not a high definition photograph, the angle at which her hair appears does show why the “updo piled high” contributed to her affectionate nickname.

In a milieu of dark gowns, military uniforms and grim proceedings, Ms Bortelin clearly made quite an impression, drawing the eye for a number of reasons.  Commenting on Justice Birkett’s acerbic view of the interpreter’s profession, in On Trial at Nuremberg (1979), the British Army lawyer Major Airey Neave (1916–1979), who had served the indictment on the defendants in their cells, wrote: “If this judgement seems harsh, it was the judges who had to listen to them [interpreting the words of counsel, defendants and witnesses] for nine months while junior officials could come and go as they pleased.  When I was not following the evidence, my interest in the interpreters’ box dwelt on a young lady with blonde hair, piled high, known as the 'Passionate Haystack'...”  Margot Theresa Bortlein-Brant was born in Aschaffenburg, Germany, her family emigrating to the US in late 1924 when she was 12.  She earned a degree in languages from the University of Chicago, a background meaning she possessed the most valuable skill a translator could have: equal adeptness with both tongues.  Her academic background obviously contributed to that but leaving one’s native land at a young age to learn the language of one’s adopted country doesn’t always produce such competence, one tourist operator at Ayers Rock Resort in Australia’s NT (Northern Territory) heard to remark of one of his staff: “She does German translation for us which is good but she left Germany when she was ten so she speaks German like a ten year old.  Of course that’s not a problem because she also speaks English like a ten year old.”

Flachkühler

Flachkühler (pronounced flak-koo-ler)

In German, (literally "wide cooling device" (radiator)), a name adopted by Daimler-Benz to describe the W111 Mercedes-Benz coupés and cabriolets built (1969-1971) with a lower, wider radiator grill than the earlier W111 (and W112) coupés and cabriolets (1961-1969).

Circa 1860s: The construct was Flach + kühler.  The adjective flach (the singular flacher, the comparative flacher and the superlative flachsten) (shallow (wide and not deep)) was from the Middle High German vlach, from the Old High German flah, from the Proto-Germanic flakaz of uncertain origin.  The construct of the noun Kühler ((1) cooler (anything device which cools) or (2) radiator (of an ICE (internal combustion engine)) was kühlen +‎ -er.  Kühlen was from the Middle High German küelen, from the Old High German kuolōn & chuolen, from the Proto-Germanic kōlōną & kōlēną and related to kalaną (to be cold).  It was cognate with the Hunsrik kiele, the Luxembourgish killen, the Dutch koelen, the Saterland Frisian köile, the English cool (verb) and the Swedish kyla.  The German suffix -er (used to forms agent nouns etc from verbs (suffixed to the verb stem)) was from the Middle High German -ære & -er, from the Old High German -āri, from the Proto-West Germanic -ārī, from the Proto-Germanic -ārijaz, from the Latin -ārius.  When used as an adjective, kühler was a comparative degree of kühl ((1) cool (of temperature), (2) calm, restrained, passionless and (3) cool, frigid (particularly of the emotions)), from the Middle High German küele, from the Old High German kuoli, from the Proto-West Germanic kōl & kōlī, from the Proto-Germanic kōluz & kōlaz, from the primitive Indo-European gel-.  It was cognate with the Dutch koel and the English cool.  Flachkühler is a noun; the noun plural is Flachkühlers.

1966 Mercedes-Benz 300 SE (W112, 1962-1967) Cabriolet (Hōchkühler).

The dimensions of the grill used on the Mercedes-Benz W111 coupé & cabriolet were dictated by the height of the 3.0 litre (183 cubic inch) straight six (M189; 1957-1967) engine used in the more exclusive W112 (300 SE) versions.  The M189 was one of several de-tuned variants of the M198 used in the 300SL Gullwing & roadster (W198; 1954-1963) which had started life as the M186 in the big 300 (W186 & W189, “Adenauer” 1950-1963, (the nickname referencing Konrad Adenauer (1876–1967; chancellor of the FRG (Bundesrepublik Deutschland (Federal Republic of Germany; the old West Germany) 1949-1990) 1949-1963) before revealing its competition potential by gaining victories at the Nürburgring, the Carrera Panamericana in Mexico and, most famously, the Le Mans 24 Hours endurance classic.  In the sports cars, the long-stroke six had been installed at an angle of 50^o and fitted with a dry sump which permitted a low hood (bonnet) line but in the W111 & W112 the unit was mounted in a conventional perpendicular arrangement and used a wet sump, further adding to the height, thus the relatively tall grill.  The smaller sixes used in the car (2.2 litre (M127); 2.5 (M129) & 2.8 (M130)) were of a more modern, short-stroke design and didn’t demand such a capacious engine bay but production line rationalization meant maintaining two different sets of coachwork for what were low volume models was not viable.

1971 Mercedes-Benz 280 SE 3.5 Coupé (Flachkühler).

By the mid 1960s however, Mercedes-Benz was well aware the gusty, high-revving sixes with which the brand’s reputation had in the post-war years been re-built were technologically bankrupt for an attempt to compete in the vital US market where, for more than a decade, Detroit had been building the world’s finest engine-transmission combinations.  What was needed was a mass-market V8 and because the big-block 6.3 litre V8 (M100 (1963-1981), introduced in 1963 in the 600 Grosser (W100)) wasn’t suitable for down-sizing, two physically smaller V8 ranges were developed, the first of which was designated M116; released in 1969 and in displacements of 3.5, 3.8 & 4.2 litres, it would serve the line until 1991 (confusingly, there were two iterations of the 3.8, the bore/stroke relationship altered for markets with lower speed limits and more onerous emission regulations).  The 3.5 came first and in 1969 it debuted in the W111 coupé & cabriolet, designated 280 SE 3.5.  By then, the old 3.0 litre six had been discontinued so the tall grill, which had come to look rather baroque, was no longer required and shortly after production commenced, the factory took the opportunity to modernize things with the new, lower & wider grill coming to be known as the Flachkühler (literally “flat cooler” and best translated as “flat radiator grill”, the engineers deciding the earlier design should be referred to as the Hōchkühler (high radiator).  Hōch (high, tall; great; immense; grand; of great importance) was from the Middle High German hōch, from the Old High German hōh, from the Proto-West Germanic hauh, from the Proto-Germanic hauhaz, from the primitive Indo-European kewk-, a suffixed form of kew-; it may be compared to the Dutch hoog, the English high and the Swedish hög.

1955 Chrysler C-300 (top left and dubbed retrospectively the 300A), 1970 Mercedes-Benz 280 SE 3.5 Coupé (Flachkühler, top right), Rover 3.5 Coupé (bottom left) and Rover 3.5 Saloon (bottom right).

Although it's the 280 SE 3.5 Cabriolets which now command the highest price, what they miss is the coupe's lovely roofline, a style the factory reprised for the C215 coupés (1998-2006) but in fairness to Chrysler's stylists, the look was borrowed from them.  For a brief, shining moment in 1955-1956, Chrysler offered their elegant “Forward Look”, the flirtation with restraint not lasting long as "irrational exuberance" washed over Detroit's studios but the influence endured longer in Europe, both the Mercedes-Benz W111 & W112 Coupés and the Rover P5 (1958-1967) & P5B (1967-1973) interpreting the shape.  The Rover was a tale of two rooflines: the “Establishment” Saloon and the rakish Coupé, the latter the sort of thing described in barristers' slang as a "co-respondent's car" (ie the type driven by the sort of chap inclined to sleep with other men's wives and thus be cited in divorce proceedings while the man with the unfaithful wife would have driven a 3.5 Saloon).

1970 280 SE 3.5 Coupé.  The lovely roofline was a highlight and it's a design best left unadulterated although many haven't been able to resist adding reproductions (usually in anodized plastic) of the chrome wheel arch trim fitted only to the W112.

Testing a 280 SE 3.5 Coupé in 1970, the US magazine Road & Track greeted the revised model with much the same feeling the press would a year later display when Jaguar’s new V12 made its debut in the Series 3 (1971-1974) E-Type (XKE, 1961-1974), writing of the German car: “The vintage coupe gets a lovely new engine”.  The testers came away most impressed with the new power-train, the sheer quality of the build and the performance, the ability to achieve 125 mph (200 km/h) and cruise at high speed for hours not of great relevance in most of the US but anyway something to note of a large and heavy machine of (by US standards) relatively small displacement.  Criticisms were limited mostly to the air-conditioning (it took European manufacturers decades to match what Detroit perfected early in the 1960s) and the swing-axle rear suspension (admittedly a state-of-the-art implementation but still antiquated).  In a sigh of the times, the fuel consumption of 15.8 mpg (18.9 mpg calculated in imperial gallons) was deemed “impressive” but that needs to be assessed in the context of the performance and what other cars in the era achieved.  What Road & Track didn’t foresee what was to come for the things as used cars.  Noting the hefty premium charged for the two-door coachwork and that new engine was also available in the four-door 300 SEL 3.5 (W109), the editors commented: “We wouldn’t give you two cents extra for that hardtop [coupé] body (or the even more expensive convertible [cabriolet] but right now you have to take either that or the also expensive air-suspension on the 4-door sedan to get the V8 engine.  And that is nice.”  By the mid 2020s, all else being equal, the 3.5 coupé sells for 4-5 times what’s achieved by the sedans, the cabriolet at least ten-fold more valuable but in 1970, who would have predicted that?

1970 Mercedes-Benz 280 SE 3.5 Cabriolet (Flachkühler, left) and 1968 Mercedes-Benz 280 SE Cabriolet (Hōchkühler, right).

Produced only between 1969-1971, the two-door 280 SE 3.5s were always expensive and only 3,270 coupés and 1,232 cabriolets were built.  On the US West Coast, in 1970 a 3.5 Cabriolet listed at more than US$13,500 and that was at a time when a Cadillac De Ville Convertible had a base price of US$6,068 (although buyers typically would tick a few boxes on the option list so usually paid around US$7,000; a 1970 Coupe de Ville two-door hardtop listed at US$5,884).  Of course, the Cadillacs included a 472 cubic inch (7.7 litre) V8 and in terms of “dollars per pound” they offered a lot more metal for the money but the customer profile probably not often overlapped.  Being another age, the Mercedes-Benz was available with a four-speed manual gearbox (an option Cadillac withdrew after 1953) which was rather clunky thing which few choose but such is the rarity value, they have a following.  The whole ecosystem of 280 SE 3.5 coupés and cabriolets actually became a cult in itself, perfectly restored cabriolets commanding prices in excess of US$500,000 and some German tuning houses will charge more for examples modernized with attributes like ABS (anti-lock brakes and literally "anti-bloc-system"), later V8 engines, transmissions and suspension.  Even now, although in essence the structure dates from the late 1950s and the mechanicals a decade later, the appeal remains because the things are remarkably usable in modern conditions and aesthetically, nothing Mercedes-Benz has made since has anything like the elegance but then, nor have many.   

1953 Morgan Plus 4 ("flat radiator", top left), 1955 Morgan Plus 4 (top right), 1969 Morgan Plus 8 (bottom left) and 2024 Morgan Plus 6 (bottom right).  Thematically, since 1954 not much has changed although, under the skin, there is much is the modern Morgan that is "most modern".

Strangely, the idea of the “flat radiator” had been around for a while in the vernacular of collector car circles but it referred to another aspect of geometry.  In 1952, Morgan of Malvern Link, Worcestershire, was (as it is now sort of still is) an English cottage industry manufacturing pre-war sports cars with more modern engines and they received advice from Lucas that because MG’s new TF (due for release in 1953) would have its headlamps integrated with the bodywork, production of the housing assemblies was ending.  There being no alternative supplier, Morgan were compelled to follow MG’s lead and restyle things so the headlamps were faired in.  Concurrent with this, the Morgan factory took the opportunity to do one of their rare styling changes, abandoning their long-establish upright radiator grill for one mounted in a cowl that blended into the hood (bonnet).  It wasn’t exactly the onset of modernity but there presumably was some aerodynamic gain and just to assure buyers change wasn’t being made for the sake of change, disc brakes would have to wait another few years.  The change to the grill was made in 1953 although, because of the way Morgan operated, some of the older style cars were actually assembled later than the new.  The cars with the traditional Morgan look which features the upright grill are known among aficionados as the “flat radiator Morgans”.  In a quirk of industry economics, when the 1961 Imperial range was released, Chrysler began manufacturing its own old-style “freestanding” headlamp nacelles, four of which were mounted on short stalks within deeply scalloped front fenders, a motif recalling (vaguely) the 1930s which the designer dubbed “neo-classical” which may have been a bit of a leap from the term's origin in revivalist architecture.  Imperial retained the look for three seasons although the tailfins were pruned for 1962 after in their final year setting the mark for verticality, peaking at their highest point just a fraction of an inch higher than the famous “twin bullet” installations on the 1959 Cadillac.

Impromptu Flachkühler.

In October 2005, Lindsay Lohan went for a drive in her Mercedes-Benz SL 65 AMG roadster.  It didn’t end well, a low-speed unpleasantness with a van resulting in her roadster suffering a Flachkühler.  Based on the R230 (2001-2011) platform, the SL 65 AMG was produced between 2004-2012, all versions rated in excess of 600 horsepower, something perhaps not a wise choice for someone with no background handling such machinery though it could have been worse, the factory building 400 (175 for the US market, 225 for the RoW (rest of the world)) of the even more powerful SL 65 Black Series, the third occasion an SL was offered without a soft-top and the second time one had been configured with a permanent fixed-roof.  A production number of 350 is sometimes quoted but those maintaining registers insist it was 400.  Ms Lohan's SL 65 was later repaired and sold so all's well that ends well.

Rosemarie Nitribitt and Joe the poodle, with 190 SL, going to or coming from work.

The best-known owner of a Mercedes-Benz 190 SL (W121; 1955-1962) was Fraulein Rosemarie Nitribitt (1933-1957) who, by 1957, was Frankfurt’s most illustrious (and reputedly most expensive) prostitute, a profession to which she seems to have been drawn by necessity but at which she proved more than proficient and, as the reports of the time attest, there was nothing furtive in the way she plied her trade.  Something of a celebrity in Frankfurt (the republic's financial centre), her black roadster became so associated with her business model that the 190 SL was by some referred to as the “Nitribitt-Mercedes” (and, less charitably, the Hurentaxi (whore's cab)), her car seen frequently, if briefly, parked in the forecourts of the city’s better hotels.  The lives of prostitutes, even the more highly priced, can descend to their conclusion along a Hobbesian path and in 1957, aged 24, she was murdered in her smart apartment, strangled with a silk stocking, the body not found for several days.  Given Fraulein Nitribitt operated at the upper end of the market, her clients tended variously to be rich, famous & powerful and that attracted the raft of inevitable conspiracy theories there had been a cover-up to protect their interests, a rather botched police investigation encouraging such rumors.  The murder remains unsolved.

Frankfurt police officers examining Helga Matura's 220 SE cabriolet (Hōchkühler).  Note the jackboots.

In a coincidence of circumstances and geography, a decade later, Fraulein Helga Sofie Matura (1933-1966) was another high-end prostitute murdered in Frankfurt, the weapon this time a stiletto (the stylish shoe rather than the slender blade).  Never subject to the same rumors the Nitribtt case attracted, it too remains unsolved.  In another coincidence, Fraulein Matura’s car was a convertible Mercedes, a white 220 SE Cabriolet (W111, Hōchkühler).  Despite the connection, the W111 never picked up any prurient nicknames and there was no reputational damage but claims Fraulein Nitribitt's murder contributed to 190 SL sales suffering appear over-stated.  The W121's first year of full-production was 1956 with second-season drop-offs in sales not unknown and while at least in Germany, the association with the dead courtesan may have been off-putting for the bourgeoise, without qualitative data, one really can’t say.  There was a precipitous decline in 190 SL sales in 1958 but that was the year of the worst US recession of the post-war years (1945-1973) and it was in the US most of the drop was booked; on both sides of the Atlantic, sales anyway quickly recovered.

Weimar

Weimar (pronounced vahy-mahr, wahy-mahr, veye-mahr or weye-mahr)

(1) A city in Thuringia, in central Germany, the scene (in 1919) of the adoption of the constitution of the German state which came (retrospectively) to be known as the Weimar Republic.

(2) A German surname (of habitational origin).

(3) As Weimar Republic, the sovereign German republic (1918-1933), successor state to the German Empire (1871-1918 and now sometimes referred to as the “Second Reich”) and predecessor to the Nazi regime (the “Third Reich”, 1933-1945).  In the narrow technical sense of constitutional law, the "Weimar Republic" came into existence only in August 1919 but among historians it's common (and convenient) to date it from Kaiser Wilhelm II's (1859–1941; Emperor of Germany & King of Prussia 1888-1918) abdication in 1918.

Pre 1100: The construct was the Old High German wīh (holy; sacred) + meri (sea; lake; pond; standing water, swamp).  The name can therefore be analysed as something like “holy pond” or “sacred lake” but what religious significance this had or which aquatic feature was involved is not known.  A settlement in the area of what is now Weimar has existed since at least the early Middle Ages and there is a document dated 999 which makes reference to the town as Wimaresburg but how long this, or some related form had been in use is unknown.  Over time, the changes presumably reflected as desire for convenience and simplification (not an imperative always noted in evolution of the German language) and during the early centuries of the second millennium the place seems to have been known as Wimares, Wimari & Wimar before finally becoming Weimar.  In a manner not unusual in the Holy Roman Empire (800-1806 and for certain purposes dubbed First Reich”), it was the seat of the County of Weimar, one of the administrative and commercial centres of Thuringia but in 1062 merged with the County of Orlamünde to form Weimar-Orlamünde which existed until 1346 when the Thuringian Counts' War (a squabble between several local barons) erupted.  In the settlement which followed, Weimar was taken by the Wettin clan as an agreed fief and over time developed into a major city.  Weimar is a proper noun, Weimarization & Weimarize are nouns and Weimarian is a noun & adjective; the noun plural is Weimars.

One native to or an inhabitant of Weimar is a Weimarer (strong, genitive Weimarers, plural Weimarer, feminine Weimarerin).  The adjective Weimarian (of or relating to the Weimar period (1918-1933) in German can be used in any context but is most often applied to the art & culture associated with the era rather than politics or economics.  The comparative is “more Weimarian”, the superlative “most Weimarian”).  The noun Weimarization (a state of economic crisis leading to political upheaval and extremism) is used exclusively to describe the political and financial turmoil of the Weimar years.  The verb Weimarize (to cause to undergo Weimarization) is the companion term and is applied in much the same was as a word like “Balkanize” as a convenient word which encapsulates much in a way no other can.  The Weimaraner is a breed of dog, bred originally in the region as a hunting dog, the construct being Weimar + the German suffix -aner (denoting “of this place”).

In a constitutional sense, the Weimar Republic came into existence on 11 August 1919 when the national assembly of the German state met in the city to adopt the new Weimar Constitution.  Despite that, many historians use the label to cover the whole period between abdication on 9 November 1918 by Wilhelm II and the Nazis taking office on 30 January 1933.  The constitution created what structurally was a fairly conventional federal republic (known officially as the Deutsches Reich (German Reich)), the constituent parts of which were the historic Länder (analogous with the states in systems like the US, Canada or Australia though the details of the power sharing differed), each with their own governments, assemblies and constitutions.  Historians regards the inherent weakness of the structure as one of the factors which contributed to the political instability, economic turmoil and social unrest for which the era is remembered but the external forces are thought to have been a greater influence, notably the harsh terms imposed by the Treaty of Versailles (1919) and the extraordinary level of war reparations, the latter associated particularly with the hyper-inflation of 1923.  However, it was a time of unusual social & political freedom, marked by an outpouring of innovative cultural creativity.  One thing which tends to be obscured by what came later was that by 1928 the system had been stabilized and the economy was stable; in the last election prior to the Wall Street Crash (1929), the Nazi vote had slumped, rendering the party an outlier with no immediate prospect of success.  In democratic politics, the the so-called "protest vote" can at scale be attracted only if a critical mass of people think things are so bad they're prepared to "take a risk" on an unproven alternative; it was only the depression of the early 1930s which doomed Weimar and even then, the Nazis gained power not by achieving an electoral majority but through a series of back channel deals by establishment figures who (at the time, understandably) underestimated the threat posed.

Lindsay Lohan in court, Los Angeles, 2011.

Actually, rather than the pleasant city in Thuringia which lent the constitution its name, it was Berlin, the national and Prussian capital which came most to be associated with the artistic and sexual experimentation of the republic.  Although most of went on in the place was little different than in other conservative German cities it was the small but highly visible numbers of those enjoying the excesses which attracted attention.  In his novel Down There on a Visit (1962) Christopher Isherwood (1904–1986) wrote of the sort of warning respectable folk would in the 1920s offer to anyone who seemed to need the advice:

“Christopher - in the whole of Thousand Nights and One Night, in the most shameless rituals of the Tantra, in the carvings on the Black Pagoda, in the Japanese brothel-pictures, in the vilest perversions of the oriental mind, you couldn’t find anything more nauseating than what goes on there, quite openly, every day. That city is doomed, more surely than Sodom ever was."  And then and there I made a decision - one that was to have a very important effect on the rest of my life. I decided that, no matter how, I would get to Berlin just as soon as ever I could and that I would stay there a long, long time.

Weimar art: Der Künstler mit zwei erhängten Frauen (The Artist with Two Hanged Women), watercolour and graphite on paper by Rudolf Schlichter (1890-1955).  Note the high-heeled jackboots.   

Isherwood left London by the afternoon train for Berlin on 14 March 1929, taking a room next to the Hirschfeld Institute for Sexual Science from which he explored the city’s “decadence and depravity” enjoying just about every minute and by his own account every gay bar and club (of which there were many).  That niche was only one of many to which the Berlin of Weimer catered, all fetishes seemingly there from morphine, cocaine and opium houses to a club at which membership was restricted to a “coven of coprophagists [who] gorged a prostitute on chocolate, gave her a laxative and settled down to a feast.”  Actually, at the time, there was plenty of depravity among the Nazis, however much the public platform of the party might stress traditional values and they were as condemnatory as the Pope of communists, homosexuals and Freemasons (by contrast, it was institutions such as the Roman Catholic Church, the British Empire and comrade Stalin (1878-1953; Soviet leader 1924-1953) which attracted the sometimes grudging admiration of Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945).  Indeed, in his writings and the recollections of his contemporaries, Hitler didn’t much dwell on moral matters but ceaselessly would condemn those aspects of German culture he believed the Weimar generation were corrupting including “modernist architecture, Dadaist art, Jewish psychoanalysis, experimental theatre, short shirts, lipstick, bobbed hair, dances like the foxtrot and jazz” (the last of which he derided as “a degenerate negroid sound”).

Weimar art: Sonnenfinsternis (Eclipse of the Sun (1926)), oil on canvas by George Grosz (1893-1959).  Weimar was not untouched by surrealism.

The lurid tales of Weimar Berlin from the diaries of Christopher Isherwood now entertain rather than shock as once they would have managed but the expressionist art which flourished at the time remains striking.  A stridently experimental fork of the European avant-garde, the Weimar artists chose to ignore traditional aesthetic conventions and, according to some critics, the painters were fascinated by ugliness, the composers by atonal dissonance.  They were also artists who were predominately urban and focused upon the city, its decadence and corrosive influence upon the individual.  The Weimar period was the time also when the phrase magischer Realismus (magic realism) was coined, more accurately to describe what had come to be known as the Neue Sachlichkeit (new objectivity).  Magic realism is now thought of as a literary genre in which fantastical elements are interpolated into life-like depictions of the world but the first use was in 1925 by German art historian Franz Roh (1890–1965) who observed many artists in the Weimar Republic rejecting (or at least ignoring) the idealistic style (fashionable before World War I (1914-1918) and which had combined naturalistic depiction with an amplification of beauty and virtue), in favor of something recognizably realistic yet blended with uncanny elements.  Roh’s understanding of magic realism was at least partially an acknowledgement of technology: the influence of photography and moving pictures (film).  Then as now, there was debate about whether there was some point at which realism stopped and surrealism began but the distinction was that magic realism was a distortion of the actual material world for some political or other didactic purpose whereas surrealism explored the abstractions which lurked in the subconscious mind. 

In the Weimar style: The Rt Hon Theresa May MP (2023), a portrait of Lady May (b 1956; UK prime-minister 2016-2019) by Saied Dai (b 1958).

Painted by Tehran-born Saied Dai, it will hang in  Portcullis House, Parliament's office complex where many MPs have their offices and not since Graham Sutherland’s (1903–1980) portrait of Winston Churchill (1875-1965; UK prime-minister 1940-1945 & 1951-1955) was unveiled in 1954 has a painting of one of the country’s prime-ministers attracted so much interest, the reception of such works not usually much more than perfunctory.  Sutherland was commissioned (as second choice; Sir Herbert Gunn's (1893–1964) fee deemed too high) by the ad hoc “Churchill Joint Houses of Parliament Gift Committee” to paint a portrait to mark the prime minister’s 80^th birthday and, on 30 November 1954, members of the Commons & the Lords assembled in Westminster Hall to mark the occasion.  Paid for by parliamentary subscription (the idea of paying for such a thing from their own pockets would appal today’s politicians), it was intended the work would remain with Churchill until his death after which it would be gifted to the state to hang in the Palace of Westminster.

Winston Churchill (1954) by Graham Sutherland.

Things didn’t work out that way.  Churchill, not anyway much enjoying the aging process loathed the painting and felt betrayed by the artist, the preliminary sketches he’d been shown hinting at something rather different.  Initially, he sulked, first saying he wouldn’t attend the event, then that he’d turn up only if the painting wasn’t there but his moods often softened with a little coercion and he agreed to make a short speech of thanks at the unveiling, his most memorable lines being: “The portrait is a remarkable example of modern art. It certainly combines force and candour.”  It wasn’t hard to read between the lines and when delivered to Churchill’s country house, the painting was left in a storeroom, never unwrapped and never again to be seen, Lady Churchill (Clementine Churchill (Baroness Spencer-Churchill; 1885–1977) in 1956 incinerating it in what was described as “a huge bonfire”.  That she'd executed one of history’s most practical examples of art criticism wasn't revealed until 1979.  Curiously, when first she saw it in 1954 she admired the work, Somerset Maugham (1874–1965) who was with her at the time noting she “liked the portrait very much” and was much “moved and full of praise for it.”  Her view soon changed.

The better-received May portrait was commissioned this time by the Speaker's Advisory Committee on Works of Art at a cost to the taxpayer of Stg£28,000 (in adjusted terms somewhat less than the thousand guineas paid in 1954) and Mrs May (she doesn’t use the title gained in 2020 upon her husband being knighted (for “political service”) in Boris Johnson’s (b 1964; UK prime-minister 2019-2022) remarkable (and belated) Dissolution Honours List) was reported as saying she thought the portrait a “huge honour”.  When interviewed, the artist said his “…aim was to produce not just a convincing physical likeness, but also a psychological characterization, both individual and yet archetypal - imbued with symbolism and atmosphere.  A good painting needs to be a revelation and also paradoxically, an enigma. It should possess an indefinable quality - in short, a mystery.”

A work of careful composition, critics have found in it influences from the Renaissance and Mannerism but it’s most obviously in the spirit of the German expressionists identified with the Weimar Republic and the addition of a convallaria majalis (the "lily of the valley" which flowers in May) was the sort of touch they would have admired.  Interestingly, Mr Dai expressed relief he’d not been asked to render Mr Johnson on canvas which is understandable because while an artist could permit their interpretative imagination free reign and produce something memorable, Mr Johnson over the decades has been a series of living, breathing caricatures and it would be challenge for anyone to capture his “psychological characterization”.  The Weimaresque May in oil on canvas works so well because it’s so at variance with the one-dimensional image of the subject which has so long been in the public mind.  Whether it will change the perception of Mrs May in the minds of many isn’t known but critics mostly have admired the work and views of her premiership do seem to have been revised in the light of the rare displays of ineptitude which have marked the time in office of her three successors.

After Weimar: Der Bannerträger (The Standard Bearer (circa 1936)) oil on plywood by Hubert Lanzinger (1880-1950).  The post card with the inscription Ob im Glück oder Unglück, ob in der Freiheit oder im Gefängnis, ich bin meiner Fahne, die heute des Deutschen Reiches Staatsflagge ist, treu geblieben (Whether in good fortune or misfortune, whether in freedom or in prison, I have remained loyal to my flag, which is now the state flag of the German Reich) was issued in 1939, one of many such uses of the image which depicts Hitler as a knight in shining armor on horseback, bearing a Swastika flag.  As he did whenever a  postage stamp with his image was sold, the Führer received a tiny fee as a royalty; multiplied by millions, he gleaned quite a income from the use.  In one of the many examples of the fakery which underpinned Nazism (and fascism in general), in real life, Hitler was “terrible on horseback".

Der Bannerträger was an example of the type of art which proliferated in both Nazi Germany and the Soviet Union, works which constructed the the personality cult around Hitler and comrade Stalin, reinforcing the messaging of both regimes.  Although, understandably, biographers and others have much focused on the two as human characters, as historical figures they need also be understood as manufactured constructs something certainly understood by the Soviet leader who once explained the abstraction of the personality cult by pointing to one of his many huge portraits and saying “…you see, even I am not Stalin, THAT is Stalin!”  One remarkably succinct sketch of how these thing are done lies in the pages of Paris: The Memoir (2023) in which Paris Hilton (b 1981) detailed the way Paris Hilton (the blonde flesh & blood creature) has a full-time job being Paris Hilton (the blonde public installation), a dualism she treated seriously because its maintenance demands study and an understanding of the supply & demand curves of shifting markets; a personality cult needs to be managed because, while some aspects must remain static, others need to evolve.

Such imagery Hitler dutifully would acknowledge when they were presented but he really did think them a kind of kitsch and while understanding their utility as propaganda pieces, they aroused in him little interest.  What he really liked in a painting was beauty as he defined it and in this his differentiation was something like his views on architecture where the standards imposed on the “functional” varied from his expectations of the “representational”.  Hitler would admire modern architecture rendered in steel & glass if it was being used for a factory or warehouse; there it was a matter of efficiency and improving working conditions but for the public buildings of the Reich, he insisted on classical motifs in granite.  In painting, he distinguished between what was essentially “advertising” and “real” art which the expressionism of the Weimar era certainly was not; the “…sky is not green, dogs are not blue and anyone who paints them as such has a sick mind” was his summary of thought on the Weimar art movement.  His preference was for (1) the Neoclassical which drew inspiration from the Greek and Roman art of Antiquity and his fondness extended not only to the voluptuous female nudes historians like to mention but also to the idealized, heroic figures representing nobility and heroism; with these he identified, (2) realistic landscapes, particularly those of the German countryside at its most lovely, (3) German Academic Realism which produced intricately detailed realistic representations of subjects, (4) depictions from Norse mythology which created a link between the legends and the idealized vision of the Nazi project and (5), traditional portraiture, if realistic and flattering (certainly demanded of the many painted of him).

Women in Weimer art: Margot (1924), oil on canvas by Rudolf Schlichter (1890-1955) (left), Porträt der Tänzerin Anita Berber (Portrait of the Dancer Anita Berber (1925)), oil and tempera on plywood by Otto Dix (1891–1969) (centre) and Bean Ingram (1928), oil on canvas by Herbert Gurschner (1901-1975) (right). 

Books of which the Nazis didn’t approve could be burned and proscribed music not performed but the practical public servants in the finance ministry knew much of the Entartete Kunst (degenerate art) removed from German (and later Austrian) galleries was highly sought by collectors in other countries and valuable foreign exchange was obtained from these sales (some of which in the post-war years proved controversial because of the provenance of some pieces sold then and later; they turned out to have been “obtained” from occupied territories or Jews).  Hitler despised Dadaism, Expressionism, Cubism, Surrealism and just about every other modern "ism" in art and expected others in the Reich to share his view but an exhibition of Entartete Kunst in Munich in 1937 proved an embarrassing one-off for the regime because people from around the country travelled to see itm making it the most attended art show of the Third Reich.  It was Weimar’s revenge.