Fishnet

Fishnet (pronounced fish-net)

(1) A net for catching fish.

(2) A fabric with an open mesh, resembling a fishnet.

(3) Being of an open-mesh weave.

(4) In fashion as a clipping of “fishnet stockings” & “fishnet tights”, usually in the form “fishnets”.

(5) In math, geometry and mapping, as “fishnet grid”, a grid of equally-sized (usually square or rectangular) cells which can be overlaid onto another representations (graphs, chart-lines, maps etc) for various purposes.  

Pre 1000: from the Middle English, from the Old English fiscnett, the construct being fish + net.  Fish was from the Middle English fisch, from the Old English fisċ (fish), from the Proto-West Germanic fisk, from the Proto-Germanic fiskaz (fish).  It may be compared with the West Frisian fisk, the Dutch vis, the German Fisch, the Danish, Norwegian & Swedish fisk and the Icelandic fiskur, from the primitive Indo-European peysḱ- (fish) (the equivalent form in was iasc and in Latin piscis.  Net was from the Middle English nett, from the Old English net & nett, from the Proto-West Germanic nati, from the Proto-Germanic natją, from the primitive Indo-European ned- (to turn, twist, knot).  It was cognate with the West Frisian net, the Low German Nett, the Dutch net, the German Netz, the Danish net and the Swedish nät.  Fishnet is a noun & adjective and fishnetted & fishnetty are adjectives; the noun plural is fishnets.

The most obvious “fishnet grid” is of course the fishnet, used by fishers to harvest seafood and one of the oldest technologies still in use with its essential design unchanged although much has changed in terms of materials, scale and techniques of use, some now highly controversial.  The same design (a grid structure with equal sized cells) is used in various field including (1) concreting where the steel reinforcing for slabs is used in this form, either in pre-made sections or assembled on-site.  (2) In agriculture, the grids are used as a support structure for climbing plants like beans which grow up the grid, gaining enhanced exposure to airflow and sunlight; ultimately, the arrangements also make harvesting easier and cheaper.  Made now with slender, strong, cheap and lightweight plastic strands which don’t absorb moisture, like the nets used to harvest fish, the agricultural mesh is produced in a variety of cell sizes, the choice dictated by the crop. (3) In architecture and interior decorating, grids are common design element, sometimes integrated into structural members and sometimes merely decorative.  (4) In fashion, the most famous fishnet grids are of course those used on stockings & tights where the most frequently seen patterns are diamonds or squares displayed with points perpendicular.  When used of other garments, the orientation of the cells can vary. (5) In industrial design, fishnet grids made of durable materials like steel or synthetic fibers are widely used, providing structures which can be lighter than those made with solid materials yet, in a seeming paradox, be stronger, at least in the direction of the stresses to which they’ll be exposed.  Such constructions are often used in support structures, fencing and other barriers.

North America with the lines of latitude & longitude as traditionally depicted in maps using a fishnet grid (left) and in a form which reflects the effects of the curvature of the earth.

In cartography, the most famous fishnet grid is that made up from the lines of latitude & longitude which, east & west, north & south, encircle the globe and have for centuries been used for navigation.  However, the familiar representation of the lines of latitude and longitude as a fishnet grid is illusory because the common, rectangular map of the world is just a two-dimensional rendering of a three dimensional sphere.  For most purposes, the flat map is ideal but when lines of latitude & longitude were added, so were distortions because the lines of longitude converge at the poles, becoming progressively closer as they move away from the equator.  Never parallel on the sphere which is planet Earth, on a map the lines are exactly parallel; a perfect fishnet grid.

The politics of the Mercator Map

The Mercator projection was developed in 1568 by Flemish geographer, cosmographer & cartographer Gerardus Mercator (1512–1594) as a navigation tool with spherical planet earth depicted on a flat rectangular grid with parallel lines of latitude and longitude.  Its functionality was such that in the west, it became the standard technique of projection for nautical navigation and the de facto standard for maps and charts.  For seafarers it was invaluable; all they needed do was follow the line on the chart and, barring accidents, they would arrive where intended.  However, the Mercator map is a most imprecise representation of the precise shapes and relative sizes of land masses because the projection distorts the size of objects as the latitude increases from the Equator to the poles, where scale becomes infinite.  That’s why land-masses such as Greenland and Antarctica appear much larger than they actually are, relative to equatorial areas such as central Africa.

The Mercator map (left), the distorting effect of the Mercator projection with the real size in the darker shade (centre) and the actual geography of Earth's land masses (right).

In the twentieth century, that distortion attracted criticism on the grounds the projection tended to increase the size of the land-masses of the European colonial powers while reducing those in the colonized south.  However, neither Gerardus Mercator nor other cartographers had social or political axes to grind; the geographical distortion was an unintended consequence of what was designed as a navigational device and it's anyway impossible accurately to depict the surface of a sphere as a two-dimensional rectangle or square (the so-called "orange-segment" renditions are dimensionally most accurate but harder to read).  The Mercator map is no different from the map of the London Underground; a thing perfect for navigation and certainly indicative but not to exact scale.  Modern atlases generally no longer use the Mercator map (except for historical or artistic illustrations) but they’re still published as wall-maps.

The Tube

The classic "map" of the London underground is an ideal navigational aid but, conceptual rather than being drawn to scale, applying a fishnet grid would be both pointless and without meaning.  Professional cartographers refer to such things as "diagrams" or "mud maps", the latter a colloquial term which began life in the military and was a reference to the improvised "maps" drawn in the soil by soldiers in the field.  While not precise, to scale or a detailed representation of an area, they were a simple visual aid to assist in navigation.

Fishnet fan Lindsay Lohan: Confessions of a Teenage Drama Queen (2004), (left), Elle Style Awards, London, February 2015 (centre) and Cannes Film Festival, May 2017 (right).  

There are both fishnet tights and fishnet stockings and unless worn in a manner to permit an observer to discern which, whether it’s one or another is often known only to the wearer, the distinction blurred further by manufacturers being sometimes inclined to be a bit loose with their labeling.  While both items of leg-wear, there are technical differences in the construction, coverage and style.  Tights should be made of a thicker, more opaque material which affords complete coverage from the waist to the toes.  Although a fashion item, the historic purpose of tights was to keep the legs warm in cold weather and they were a garment of some importance when there were dress codes which denied women the right to wear trousers.  Constructed almost always in one piece, tights have an elastic waistband which has the primary purpose of keeping them in place but there are some tights which technically are “shapewear”, the midsection an expanded, all-round elastic panel which has a mild compression effect on the areas around and immediately above the hips, rendering a more trim silhouette.  Except for a handful of high-priced products, tights use relatively thick materials like nylon or spandex (sold as lycra in some markets).  There are also composite materials now available which has meant the range of thicknesses, colors and patterns offered has been expanded and the finishes range from semi-sheer to opaque, making them suitable for casual and formal occasions while still providing protection from the cold.  The essential difference between tights and leggings is the later are shorter, stopping anywhere from the ankle to the upper calf (although some specialized sports leggings extend only to somewhere above the knee).

Australian architect & multi-media installation Bianca Censori (b 1995), Instagram post, May 2025.

Ms Censori is one of the industry's leading practitioners of minimalist fashion and on this occasion paired a fishnet top with sheer tights, sunglasses the only visible accessory.  Wearing unobtrusive mules rather than the fishnet’s clichéd stilettos was a nice juxtaposition and the background was well-chosen, proving the value of a trained architect's eye.

Classically, stockings were designed to cover only the legs between the upper-thigh and the toes.  Made typically from a sheer material, they are held in place by a device called a “garter belt” or “suspender belt” which sits around the hips, two (sometimes three) elastic “suspender slings” (a marvelous name) are attached to each side at the ends of which are metal clips into which a rubber or silicone disc is inserted through the stocking material, holding it permanently in place.  Usually sheer in a color spectrum from black to white (with a solid emphasis of “skin tone” although sensitivity to the implications of that term means it now less used), patterns are also available and among the most popular is the single, emulated “seam” running vertically up the back of the leg.  Until the mid twentieth century, stockings were made almost exclusively from silk are they remain available but the majority use some form of synthetic, either nylon or a nylon-mix and are thought to impart both a more delicate and refined look and are thus associated with formal attire.  The modern hybrid which has since the 1970s captured most of the stocking market is “pantyhose” (the construct being a portmanteau of the modified clippings of panties (panty) + hosiery (hose).  Pantyhose used the design of tights and the sheer material of stockings, the obvious advantage being the convenience of not needing the belt apparatus with its alluring but fiddly “suspender slings”.  Fishnet pantyhose are available.

Dame Jilly Cooper (1937–2025), in the 1980s, in fishnets.

Bonkbuster is a literary genre first defined in the late 1980s as meaning “novels with more emphasis on the sex than the romance and enjoying (ore expecting” best-seller status and like likelihood of adaptation in some form for the screen”.  The construct was bonk + (block)buster, the latter element used to describe highly successful book, films, albums etc.  In the literary genre Dame Jilly was the UK’s most accomplished author, something she attributed, at least in part to her “diligent research on the topic”.  Her novels were churning fantasies of smouldering glances, polo ponies, country houses and corporate back-stabbing, always with an undercurrent of infidelity, often in the green and pleasant land of the English countryside.  Before in 1975 she turned to fiction (albeit with much content drawn from he own active life), she’d spent years as a newspaper columnist where she’s offer practical advice to the modern women such as: “If you amuse a man in bed, he's not likely to bother about the mountain of dust underneath it.”  Although she always, accurately, described herself as “upper-middle class”, her novels tended up rather than down the class system and were studded with titles, money and privilege but the turn of phrase she’d honed within the tight word limits imposed on columnists never deserted her, a protagonist in one novel observing: “I don’t expect fidelity from my husbands, but I demand it from my lovers.”

The obsessive fear of nets (as opposed to mere sensible caution) is amphiblestronophobia and this would include those with a morbid aversion to fishnets although, depending on the evidence presented, a clinician might give the patient a diagnosis of textophobia (the irrational fear of certain fabrics).  There seems in the literature no mention of specific phobia tied exclusively to a fear of fishnets; while there may be a few whose experiences have led them to fear those who wear fishnets, that’s not quite the same thing.  That notwithstanding, the non-standard nouns fishnetism and fishnetists are there for those who self-identify as fishnetophiles.  The American Psychiatric Association's (APA) Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM) does sometimes include discussions of specific objects and devices but fishnets seem never to have been mentioned.  Obviously though, fishnet clothing could be an element in a paraphilic disorder, a category of eight updated in the DSM’s fifth edition (DSM-5, 2013).  These disorders are characterized by intense and recurrent urges or fantasies focused on atypical sexual objects, situations, or non-consenting individuals and while those which cause significant distress or impairment can come to the attention of clinicians, there are presumably many individuals who either successfully self-manage or actively cherish their paraphilias, something no longer thought requiring clinical intervention provided the practices are “victim free”.

(1) Voyeuristic Disorder: Sexual arousal from observing others without their knowledge or consent.  This would include those aroused by the sight of fishnet garments being worn “in the wild”.

(2) Exhibitionistic Disorder: Sexual arousal from exposing one's genitals to unsuspecting strangers.

(3) Frotteuristic Disorder: Sexual arousal from touching or rubbing against a non-consenting person.

(4) Sexual Masochism Disorder: Sexual arousal from being humiliated, beaten, bound, or otherwise made to suffer.  Fishnet garments may be involved because they’re a stereotypical part of the “uniform” worn in the BDSM (Bondage; Discipline (dominance and submission); SadoMasochism) community but they would be an incidental element.

(5) Sexual Sadism Disorder: Sexual arousal from inflicting pain or humiliation on others.  Again, fishnets may be present but merely coincidental to the condition.

(6) Pedophilic Disorder: Sexual arousal from a desire to have sexual contact with a child who is not of legal age of consent.

(7) Fetishistic Disorder: Sexual arousal from non-living objects, non-genital body parts, or a combination of both.  Fishnet garments would be a classic example of a particular clothing fetish but the fondness is a spectrum and of clinical significance only if causing a patient distress or impairment.

(8) Transvestic Disorder: Sexual arousal from dressing in clothing associated with the opposite sex, particularly when not related to a transgender identity.  Fishnet garments could be an element in this but are not essential.

Targa

Targa (pronounced ta-gah)

(1) A model name trade-marked by Porsche AG in 1966.

(2) In casual use, a generic description of cars with a removable roof panel between the windscreen and a truncated roof structure ahead of the rear window.

1966 (in the context of the Porsche): From the Targa Florio race in Sicily, first run in 1906 and last staged in its classic form in 1973.  In many European languages, targa (or derivatives) existed and most were related to the Proto-Germanic targǭ (edge), from the primitive Indo-European dorg- (edge, seam), from the Old Norse targa (small round shield) and the Old High German zarga (edge, rim).  The modern Italian targa (plate, shingle; name-plate; number plate or license plate; plaque; signboard; target (derived from the rounded oval or rectangle shield used in medieval times)) was ultimately from the Frankish targa (shield).  In the Old English targa (a light shield) was also from the Proto-Germanic targǭ and was cognate with the Old Norse targa and the Old High German zarga (source of the German Zarge); it was the source of the Modern English target.  The Proto-Germanic targǭ dates from the twelfth century and “target” in the sense of “round object to be aimed at in shooting” emerged in the mid eighteenth century and was used originally in archery.  Targa is a noun; the noun plural is targas.

1974 Leyland P76 Targa Florio in Omega Navy, Aspen Green & Nutmeg (without the side graphics).

Although, especially when fitted with the 4.4 litre (269 cubic inch) V8, it was in many ways at least as good as the competition, the Australian designed and built Leyland P76 is remembered as the Antipodean Edsel; a total failure.  It was doomed by poor build quality, indifferent dealer support and the misfortune of being a big (in local terms) car introduced just before the first oil shock hit and the world economy sunk into the severe recession which marked the end of the long, post war boom.  It vanished in 1975, taking with it Leyland Australia but it did have one quixotic moment of glory, setting the fastest time on Special Stage 8 of the 1974 World Cup Rally, run on the Targa Florio circuit in Palermo, Sicily.  The big V8 machine out-paced the rest of the field by several minutes and to mark the rare success, Leyland Australia built 488 "Targa Florio" versions.  Available in Omega Navy, Aspen Green or Nutmeg (a shade of brown which seemed to stalk the 1970s), the special build was mechanically identical to other V8 P76s with automatic transmission but did include a sports steering wheel and aluminium road wheels, both intended for the abortive Force 7, a two-door version which was ungainly but did offer the functionality of a hatchback.  In a typical example of Leyland's mismanagement, the Force 7 was being developed just as the other local manufacturers were in about to drop their big two-doors, demand having evaporated after a brief vogue.  Leyland do however deserve credit for their plans to name the luxury version of the Force 7 the Tour de Force.

Except for those which (usually) stick to numbers or alpha-numeric strings (Mercedes-Benz the classic example), coming up with a name for a car can be a tricky business, especially if someone objects.  In 1972, Ford of England was taken to court by Granada Television after choosing to call their new car a “Granada” though the judge gave the argument short shrift, pointing out (1) it was unlikely anyone would confuse a car with a TV channel and (2) neither the city nor the province of Granada in Spain’s Andalusia region had in 1956 complained when the name was adopted for the channel.  The suit was thrown out and the Ford Granada went on to such success the parent company in the US also used the name.

Spot the difference.  1966 Ford Mustang Fastback (left) and 1966 Ford T5 Fastback (right).

In Cologne, Ford’s German outpost in 1965 had less success when trying to sell the Mustang in the FRG (Federal Republic of Germany, the old West Germany (1949-1990)) because Krupp AG held (until December 31 1979) exclusive rights to the name which it used on a range of heavy trucks including some configured as fire engines.  A Mustang couldn’t be confused with a truck (though some snobby types in France might have suggested otherwise) but Ford’s legal advice was to settle rather than sue so they attempted to buy the rights.  Their offer (a reputed US$10,000) was rebuffed so for years Mustangs in the FRG were sold as the “T5” which was the car’s project name during its development.  Almost identical to the US version but for the badges, it was one of the most popular US cars sold in Europe, aided by the then attractive US$-Deutsche Mark exchange rate and its availability in military PX (Post Exchange) stores, service personnel able to buy at a discount and subsequently have the car shipped back to the US at no cost.

The badges: As they appeared on the early (1964-1966) Mustangs in most of the world (left), the T-5 badge used on early Mustangs sold in Germany (centre) and the (non-hyphenated) T5 used in Germany between 1967 and 1979

Visually, the changes which distinguished a T5 from a Mustang were slight and included (1) wheel covers with a plain black centre. (2) the word “Mustang” being removed from horn ring & gas (petrol) cap and (3) a “T5” badge replacing the “Mustang” script on the flanks.  Other than these cosmetic items, mechanical changes were limited to suspension settings (including adding the shock-tower cross-brace fitted to the Shelby GT350s) to better suit continental roads and the fitting of European-specification lighting.  Curiously, although Ford obviously didn’t make any effort when coming up with the “T5” name, it did for 1965 create a “T-5” badge (part number C5ZZ-6325622A) to replace the “Mustang” script on the front fenders and it was thought necessary later to do a re-design, the new one (part number CZZ-16098C) dropping the hyphen and placing the centred characters vertically.  Apparently content, the new badge was used until 1979 when Krupp’s copyright expired and the Mustang’s badges became global.  As was common, there were also running changes, a dash bezel above the glove box (with the T5 designation) introduced during 1967 and continued the next year while the 1971 range received a new dash emblem which sat in the centre, above the radio and heater controls.  However, anyone driving or sitting in a T5, unless they were an expert in such things or unusually observant, probably wouldn’t have noticed the car was in any way different from a Mustang of that vintage.

Scenes from Rote Sonne (1970, promotional poster, centre): A 1966 Ford T5 (left) and some of the cast (right) with a (circa 1966) Volkswagen Type 1 (Beetle).  Note the jackboots.

Directed by Rudolf Thome (b 1939), the plotline of Rote Sonne revolves around four young Fräuleins (Peggy, Sylvie, Christine & Isolde) who have entered into a mortiferous pact to use their charms to lure men into their grasp as a prelude to murdering them.  Although criticized as an example of the “pornography of violence” the film genuinely did fit into the contemporary feminist narratives of the FRG (Federal Republic of Germany, the old West Germany), a place in which ripples from the street protests which swept Germany in 1968 were still being felt and it was in 1970 the terrorist collective Rote Armee Fraktion (Red Army Faction (RAF)) was formed; In the English-speaking world it’s better (if misleadingly) known as the Baader–Meinhof Gang.

1962 Daimler SP250 (née Dart).

The Daimler SP250 was first shown to the public at the 1959 New York Motor Show and there the problems began.  Aware the sports car was quite a departure from the luxurious but rather staid line-up Daimler had for years offered, the company had chosen the attractively alliterative “Dart” as its name, hoping it would convey the sense of something agile and fast.  Unfortunately, Chrysler’s lawyers were faster still, objecting that they had already registered Dart as the name for a full-sized Dodge so Daimler needed a new name and quickly; the big Dodge would never be confused with the little Daimler but the lawyers insisted.  Imagination apparently exhausted, Daimler’s management also reverted to the engineering project name and thus the car became the SP250 which was innocuous enough even for Chrysler's attorneys.  The Dodge Dart didn't for long stay big, the name in 1964 re-used for a compact line although it was the generation made between 1967-1977 which was most successful and almost immediately Chrysler regretted the decision to cease production, the replacement range (the Dodge Aspen & Plymouth Volaré (1976-1980)) one of the industry's disasters.  The name was revived in 2012 for a new Dodge Dart, a small, front wheel drive (FWD) car which was inoffensive but dreary and lasted only until 2016.  The SP250 was less successful still, not even 3000 made between 1959-1964, something attributable to (1) the unfortunate styling, (2) the antiquated chassis, (3) the lack of development which meant there were basic flaws in the body engineering of the early versions and (4) the lack of interest by Jaguar which in 1960 had purchased Daimler, its interest in the manufacturing capacity acquired rather than the product range.  It was a shame because the SP250's exquisite 2.6 litre (155 cubic inch) V8 deserved better.  

Lindsay Lohan with Porsche 911 Targa 4 (997), West Hollywood, 2008.  The Targa was reportedly leased by her former special friend, DJ Samantha Ronson (b 1977).

Sometimes though, numbers could upset someone.  Even in the highly regulated EEC (European Economic Community, the origin of the European Union (EU)) of the 1960s, a company in most cases probably couldn’t claim exclusive rights to a three number sequence but Peugeot claimed exactly that when Porsche first showed their new 901 in 1963.  Asserting they possessed the sole right to sell in France car with a name constructed with three numbers if the middle digit was a zero, the French requested the Germans rename the thing.  It was the era of Franco-German cooperation and Porsche did just that, announcing the new name would be 911, a machine which went on to great things and sixty years on, remains on sale although, the lineage is obvious, only the odd nut & bolt is interchangeable between the two.  So all was well that ends well even if the French case still seems dubious because Mercedes-Benz had for years been selling in France cars labelled 200 or 300 (and would soon offer the 600). Anyway, this time, it was the project name (901) which was discarded (although it remained as the prefix on part-numbers) and surviving examples of the first 82 cars produced before the name was changed are now highly prized by collectors.

Sometimes however, the industry uses weird names for no obvious reason and some of the cars produced for the JDM (Japanese domestic market) are, to Western ears, truly bizarre though perhaps for a Japanese audience they’re compellingly cool.  Whatever might be the rationale, the Japanese manufacturers have give the world some memorable monikers including (1) from Honda the Vamios Hobio Pro & the That's, (2) from Mazda the Titan Dump, the Scrum Truck & the Bongo Brawny, (3) from Mitsubishi the Super Great, the eK-Classy, the Town Box, the Mirage Dingo Teddy Bear & the Homy Super Long, (4) from Suzuki the Solio Bandit & the Mighty Boy, (5) from Toyota the Royal Lounge Alphard, (6) from Subaru the Touring Bruce, (7) from Nissan the Big Thumb, the Elgrand Highway Star & the Cedric and (8) from Cony, the Guppy.

1964 Porsche 901 (left), 1968 Porsche 911L Targa (soft window) (centre) and 1969 Porsche 911S Targa (right)

Compared with that lot, Porsche deciding to call a car a Targa seems quite restrained.  Porsche borrowed the name from Targa Florio, the famous race in the hills of Sicily first run in 1906 and where Porsche in the 1950s had enjoyed some success.  Long, challenging and treacherous, it originally circumnavigated the island but the distance was gradually reduced until it was last run in its classic form in 1973 although in even more truncated form it lingered until 1977.  The construct of the name of the Targa Florio, the race in Italy from which Porsche borrowed the name, was Targa (in the sense of “plate” or “shield” + Florio, a tribute to Vincenzo Florio (1883-1959), a rich Sicilian businessman, automobile enthusiast and scion of a prominent family of industrialists and sportsmen; it was Vincenzo Florio who in 1906 founded the race.  Porsche won the race seven times between between 1963-1970 and took victory in 1973 in a 911 Carrera RSR, the car which in its street-legal (the Carrera RS) form remains among the most coveted of all the 911s and many replicas have been created.  Porsche didn't make any 1973 Carrera RS Targas; all were coupés.

1976 Porsche 914 2.0 with factory-fitted heckblende in Nepal Orange over black leatherette with orange & black plaid inserts.  All the mid-engined 914 built for public sale had a targa top although for use in competition the factory did a few with a fixed roof to gain additional rigidity.  The 914 was the first of a number of attempts by Porsche’s engineers to convince customers there were better configurations than the rear-engine layout used on the 911 & 912.  The customers continued to demand 911s and, the customer always being right, rear-engined 911s remain available to this day.

1938 Packard 1605 Super Eight Sedanca de Ville by Barker.

The idea of a vehicle with a removable roof section over the driver is more ancient even than the Porsche 911.  Now, a “town car” is imagined as something small and increasingly powered in some Greta Thunberg (b 2003) approved way but in the US, what was sold as a “Town Car” used to be very big, very thirsty (for fossil fuels) and a prodigious emitter of greenhouse gasses.  The idea had begun in Europe as the coupé de ville, deconstructed as the French coupé (an elliptical form of carosse coupé (cut carriage)) and the past participle of couper (to cut) + de ville (French for “for town”).  So, it was, like the horse-drawn coupé carriage, a smaller conveyance for short-distance travel within cities, often just for two passengers who sat sometimes in an enclosed compartment and sometimes under a canopy while the driver was always exposed to the elements.  In the UK, the style was often advertised as the clarence carriage.  The coach-builders of the inter-war years created naming practices which were not consistent across the industry but did tend to be standardized within individual catalogues.  In the US, reflecting the horse-drawn tradition, the coupé de ville was Anglicized as coupe de ville and appeared as both “town brougham” and “town car”, distinguished by the enclosed passenger compartment (trimmed often in cloth) and the exposed driver who sat on more weather resistant leather upholstery.

1974 Lincoln Continental Town Car.  The big Lincolns of the 1970s are about as remote as can be imagined from the original idea of something small and agile for use in congested cities but Ford also called this body style the "pillared hardtop" so by then, linguistic traditions clearly meant little.

Dating from the 1920s, a variant term was “Sedanca de ville”, briefly used to describe a particular configuration for the roof but so attractive was the word it spread and soon there appeared were Sedancas and Sedanca coupés.  Like many designations in the industry, it soon ceased to carry an exact meaning beyond the front seats being open to the skies although by the 1920s there was usually a detachable or folding (even some sliding metal versions were built) roof and windscreens had become a universal fitting.  For a while, there probably was (unusually in an industry which often paid scant attention to the details of etymology) an understanding a Sedanca de ville was a larger vehicle than a Sedanca coupé but the former term became the more generally applied, always on the basis of the ability of the driver’s compartment to be open although it’s clear many of the vehicles were marketed towards owner-drivers rather than those with chauffeurs, that cohort having moved towards fully enclosed limousines.  It’s from the Sedanca tradition the US industry later picked up the idea of the “town car” although the association was vague and had nothing to do with an open driver’s cockpit; it was understood just as a model designation which somehow implied “prestige”.

1968 Triumph TR5 with “Surrey Top”.

Porsche had since the late 1940s been building roadsters and cabriolets but while the 911 (then known internally as Project 901) was under development, it was clear US regulators, in reaction to a sharply rising death toll on the nation’s highways, were developing some quite rigorous safety standards and a number of proposals had been circulated which threatened to outlaw the traditional convertible.  Thus the approach adopted which, drawing from the company’s experience in building race cars, essentially added a stylized roll-over bar which could accommodate a detachable roof-section over the passengers and a folding rear cover which included a Perspex screen (the solid rear glass would come later).  Actually, the concept wasn’t entirely novel, Triumph introducing something similar on their TR4 roadsters (1961-1967) although their design consisted of (1) a half-hard top with an integral roll-bar & fixed glass rear window and (2) two detachable (metal & vinyl) panels which sat above the passengers.  Customers universally (and still to this day) referred to this arrangement as the “Surrey Top” although Triumph insisted only the vinyl insert and its supporting frame was the “Surrey” while the rest of the parts collectively were the “Hard Top kit”.  The targaesque top was available on the TR5 (1967-1969), a de-tuned version of which was sold in North America as the TR250 with twin carburetors replacing the Lucas mechanical fuel-injection used in most other markets, the more exotic system then unable to comply with the new emission standards.

1953 Ford X-100 with roof panel retracted (left), the Quincunxed five carburetor apparatus atop the 317 cubic inch (5.2 litre) Lincoln Y-Block V8 (centre) and the built-in hydraulic jacking system in use (right).

However, long before Porsche told us there were Targa and a decade before even Triumph’s Surrey, Ford had displayed a two-seat “targa”.  In the years to come, things like the 1953 Ford X-100 would be called “concept cars” but that term didn’t then exist so Ford used the more familiar “dream car” and that does seem a more romantic way of putting it.  Reflecting the optimistic spirit of the early post-war years, the X-100 included a number of innovations including the use of radial-ply tyres, a built-in hydraulic jacking system, a rain-sensor which automatically would trigger an electric motor to close the sliding plexiglass roof panel, a built-in dictaphone, a telephone in the centre console and the convenience of heated seats and an electric shaver mounted in the glove compartment.  Some of the features became mainstream products, some not and while the “variable volume horn” wasn’t picked up by the industry, one did appear on the Mercedes-Benz 600 (W100; 1963-1981) although that was a rare supportive gesture.  It was also an age of imaginative labels and Ford called their quincunx induction system the “Multi-Plex”; while the engineering proved a cul-de-sac, the name did later get picked up by multi-screen suburban cinema complexes.  For the X-100, Ford used what was then a popular technique in the lunatic fringe of the burgeoning hot rod: an induction system using five carburettors in a Quincunx pattern.  Inherent difficulties and advances in engineering meant the fad didn’t last but the apparatus remins pleasing to those with a fondness of unusual aluminium castings and intricate mechanical linkages.  X-100 still exists and is displayed at the Henry Ford Museum in Dearborn, Michigan.

1969 Mercury Marauder X-100.  In 1969, the blacked-out trunk (boot) lid and surrounds really was done by the factory.  During the administration of Richard Nixon (1913-1994; US president 1969-1974), things were not drab and predictable.

In a number of quirky coincidences, the name X-100 seems to once have been an industry favourite because as well as the 1953 Ford “dream car”, it was the US Secret Service’s designation for the 1961 Lincoln Continental parade convertible in which John Kennedy (JFK, 1917–1963; US president 1961-1963) was assassinated in Dallas, Texas.  One might have thought that macabre association might have been enough for the “X-100” tag to not again be used but, presumably because the Secret Service’s internal codes weren’t then general public knowledge, in 1969 Ford’s Mercury division released an X-100 as an up-market version of its second generation (1969-1970) Marauder.  Notionally, the X-100 was a “high performance” version but its 365 (gross) horsepower 429 cubic inch (7.0 litre) V8 was an option in lesser priced Marauders which meant the X-100, weighed down by the additional luxury fittings, was just a little slower than the cheaper models with the 429.  The market for “full-sized” high performance cars was anyway by 1969 in the final stages of terminal decline and although an encouraging 5635 were sold in 1969, sales the next year fell to 2646 and the X-100 was retired at the end of the 1970 and not replaced.  Most bizarre though was project X-100, a US$75 million (then a lot of what was at the time borrowed money) contract in 1943 awarded to Chrysler to design, machine and nickel-plate the inner surfaces of the cylindrical diffusers required to separate uranium isotopes.  Part of the Manhattan Project which built the world’s first atomic bombs, Chrysler built over 3,500 diffusers used at the plant in Oak Ridge, Tennessee and many were still in service as late as the 1980s.  Not until after the first A-bomb was used against Hiroshima in August 1945 did most of the X-100 project’s workers become aware of the use being made of the precision equipment they were producing.

Built by Ferrari: 1973 Dino 246 GTS with "chairs & flares" options.  The "GTS" stood for "Gran Tourismo Spider" but it was a true targa in the sense codified by Porsche.

The rhyming colloquialism “chairs and flares” (C&F to the Ferrari cognoscenti and these days the early Dinos are an accepted part of the family) is a reference to a pair of (separately available) options available on later production Dino 246s.  The options were (1) seats with inserts (sometimes in a contasting color) in the style used on the 365 GTB/4 (Daytona) & (2) wider Campagnolo Elektron wheels (which the factory only ever referred to by size) which necessitated flared wheel-arches.  In the early 1970s the factory wasn’t too punctilious in the keeping of records so it’s not known how many cars were originally built equipped with the wider (7½ x 14” vs 6½ x 14”) wheels but some privately maintained registers exist and on the basis of these it’s believed production was probably between 200-250 cars from a total run of 3569 (2,295 GT coupés & 1,274 GTS spiders (targa)).  They appear to have been most commonly ordered on UK & US market cars (although the numbers for Europe are described as “dubious” and thought an under-estimate; there are also an unknown number in other countries), the breakdown of verified production being:

246 GT: UK=22, Europe=5, US=5.
246 GTS: UK=21, Europe=2, US=91.

The “chairs and flares” cars are those which have both the Elektron option and the Daytona-style seats but because they were available separately, some were built with only one of the two, hence the existence of other slang terms in the Dino world including “Daytona package”, “Sebring spiders” and, in the UK, the brutish “big arches”.  In 1974, the Dino's option list (in US$) comprised:

Power windows: $270.00
Metallic paint: $270.00
Leather upholstery: $450.00
Daytona type central seat panels: $115.00
Air-conditioning: $770.00
14 x 7½ wheels & fender flares: $680.00
AM/FM/SW radio: $315.00
Electric antenna & speakers: $100.00

At a combined US$795.00, the C&F combo has proved a good investment, now adding significantly to the price of the anyway highly collectable Dino.  Although it's hard to estimate the added value because so many other factors influence calculation, all else being equal, the premium would seem to to be well over US$100,000.  Because it involves only wheels, upholstery and metal, the modifications are technically not difficult to emulate although the price of a modified vehicle will not match that of an original although unlike some of the more radical modifications to Ferraris (such as conversions to roadsters), creating a C&F out of a standard 246 seems not to lower its value.  These things are always relative; in 1974 the C&F option added 5.2% to the Dino GTS's list price and was just under a third the cost of a new small (in US terms a "sub-compact") car such as the Chevrolet Vega (1970-1977).

An enduring design: 2023 Porsche 911 Targa 4 (992).

Porsche didn’t complicate things, in 1966 offering the Targa as an alternative to the familiar coupé, then in series production since 1964.  Briefly, the company flirted with calling the car the 911 Flori but ultimately Targa was preferred and the appropriate trademarks were applied for in 1965, the factory apparently discovering targa in Italian means “number plate” or “license plate” only that year when the translators were working on international editions of the sales brochures.  The now familiar fixed, heated rear screen in safety glass was first offered in 1967 as an alternative to the one in fold-down plastic one and such was the demand it soon became the standard fitting.  The Targa carried over into the 911’s second and third generation being, re-designed for 1993 in a way that dispensed with the roll bar and it wouldn’t be until 2011 the familiar shape returned.

1970 Iso Grifo Targa (Series I, 350 cubic inch (5.7 litre) Chevrolet V8, left) and 1971 Iso Grifo Can-Am Targa (Series II, 454 cubic inch (7.4 litre) Chevrolet V8, right).  The raised centre section on the hood (bonnet) of the big-block Grifos was known informally as the "penthouse"; it was required because the induction system sat higher than on the small-block cars.  Not all approved of the penthouse because they found it discordant with the otherwise flowing lines but its brutish functionalism seems a fitting tribute brute force beneath.

Among the small volume manufactures which in the post-war years found a lucrative niche in combining sensuous European coachwork with the cheap, powerful and robust American V8s, there was a focus on two-door coupés because (1) this was the example set by Ferrari and (2) there most demand in the segment clearly existed.  The ecosystem was sent extinct by the first oil shock of the early 1970s but in the era, some did offer convertibles and where not, there were specialists prepared to help.  There was though, the odd targa.  The achingly lovely Iso Grifo spyder (roadster) shown at the Geneva Motor Show in 1964 never reached production but in 1966, less than two years into the Grifo’s life (during which almost 100 had been made), the factory put a targa version on their stand at the Turin Motor Show.  It was only ever available to special order on a POA (price on application) basis and between then and the shuttering of the factory in 1974, only 17 were built, four of which were the Series II Can-Ams with the big-block Chevrolet V8.

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 the Kaiser's 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 be 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), 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 (1859 1941; German emperor (Kaiser) & King of Prussia 1888-1918) 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 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 particularly associated with the hyper-inflation of 1923.  However, it was a time of unusual social & political freedom and there was 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 has slumped to 3% and the party was an outlier with few prospects and it was only the depression of the early 1930s which doomed Weimar.

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).   

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 such as communists, homosexuals and Freemasons (The Roman Catholic Church among the institutions Hitler admired along with the British Empire and comrade Stalin (and Stalin really was a construct)).  Indeed, in his writings and the recollections of his contemporaries about his discussions, Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) didn’t much dwell on moral matters but he would spend much effort condemning 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 were 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 eightieth birthday and on 30 November 1954, the 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 of Stg£28,000 (in adjusted terms somewhat less than the 1,000 guineas paid in 1954; this time all from the tax payer) and Mrs May (she doesn’t use the title she 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 have mostly 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 his pictures.  In one of the many examples of the fakery which underpinned Nazism (and fascism in general), 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 intended to enforce the personality cult around Hitler and comrade Stalin (1878-1953; Soviet leader 1924-1953) and reinforce the messaging of both regimes.  Hitler, although he dutifully acknowledged them when they were presented, really did regard them as a kind of kitsch and although he understood 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 the proscribed music not played 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, and Surrealism 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 it and it was the most attended art show of the Third Reich.  It was Weimar’s revenge.