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).
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 et al 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.