Ernst Ludwig Kirchner (1880–1938) frequently commented on his contemporaries, art and society in both his correspondence and Davos diary. There are passages where he employs anti-Semitic stereotypes, as well ones in which he explicitly expresses his appreciation of Jewish friends and supporters. Kirchner’s attitude towards Jewish people was therefore an ambivalent one informed by contradictions.

In 1921, Kirchner declined to participate in the exhibition Moderne Deutsche Malerei (Modern German Painting), stating: ‘I consider it my duty, even if it’s not to my own advantage […] to fight against the unscrupulous speculative exploitation of art in the interests of one-sided national self-importance and against vulgar Jewish money-making in matters of art’.^[1] Here, he was combining his criticism of the art market with the anti-Semitic cliché of the ‘money-grubbing Jew’. In a 1925 letter to his partner Erna Schilling, Kirchner once again used derogatory imagery: ‘I shiver in the coldness of people and the scheming of Jews’.^[2]

Anti-Semitic attitudes were widespread in Europe during the late 19^th and early 20^th centuries—including in artistic and intellectual circles. Ideas of national renewal were frequently accompanied by the denigrating of Jewish citizens. Such texts as Richard Wagner’s Das Judenthum in der Musik (Judaism in Music, 1869) had a lasting impact on such ideas. Kirchner’s language can be placed in such an ideological context. He frequently employed ‘Jew’ as a blanket, derogatory term for supposedly dishonest businessmen – regardless of their actual origin or religious affiliation. In doing so, he was repeating common anti-Semitic stereotypes that contributed to the social exclusion of Jewish people.

In addition to making such derogatory remarks, Kirchner also expressed the converse. When the Jewish art dealer Ludwig Schames died unexpectedly in 1922, Kirchner published an obituary in the magazine Der Querschnitt, accompanied by a woodcut portrait he had produced: ‘That was the art dealer Ludwig Schames, the refined, selfless friend of both art and artists. In the noblest manner, he enabled me and many others to create and live. In him, we lose a person who was unique, like a good father, a friend, a sophisticated and understanding patron of the art of our time.’^[3]

Kirchner repeatedly emphasised to acquaintances that it was Jewish art dealers who had taken the risk of exhibiting works by artists, such as himself, who were still unknown at the time. In a letter to Elfriede Knoblauch from 1929, he spoke out against anti-Semitic accusations in the art business, recounting his own experience with the gallery Cassirer in Berlin: ‘I must also state that you are wrong to blame the Jews for the situation. From 30 years of experience, I can tell you that Christian dealers are much, much worse than even the worst Jew. Good and evil can in no way be derived from race; there are [...] very noble and very evil traits in all races. [...] The Jewish firm Cassirer [...] held 2 large-scale exhibitions of my work at a cost of several thousand marks [... and bore the] loss [...] without a word of reproach [...]’^[4] Here, Kirchner is defending Jewish protagonists, emphasising individual integrity over ethnic or religious categorising. At the same time, his language makes clear how deeply he remained entrenched in a racializing worldview.

Even in later years, Ernst Ludwig Kirchner’s stance fluctuated between critical reflection and traditional clichés. In a letter from 1926 to the writer Annette Kolb, he spoke of the ‘necessity of a solution to the question juive’—a term which, at the time, was already heavily charged with anti-Semitic connotations. In it, he warned against making blanket accusations against Jewish people, while simultaneously accusing them of being partly to blame: ‘For there is a danger that the Jews will once again be blamed for all the current misery, which is certainly not true, although they are just as guilty as everyone else. If everyone worked on themselves to become truly good people, the problem would be easily solved, yet it is extremely difficult and almost impossible’.^[5]

In conclusion, Kirchner cannot be characterised as an ideologically entrenched anti-Semite. However, his statements regarding Jews are anti-Semitic, even though he simultaneously defended Jewish friends and acquaintances and, after 1933, repeatedly expressed his regret concerning the persecution of Jewish people. This ambivalence is typical of the contradictory nature of many artists and intellectuals of the time. Historical contextualising must make it visible – not as an excuse, but to enable nuanced assessment.

Literatur:

Hans Delfs (Hg.), Ernst Ludwig Kirchner. Der gesamte Briefwechsel. «Die absolute Wahrheit, so wie ich sie fühle», 4 Bde., Zürich 2010.

Lothar Grisebach (Hg.), Ernst Ludwig Kirchners Davoser Tagebuch, Ostfildern-Ruit, 1997.

Eberhard Kornfeld, Ernst Ludwig Kirchner. Nachzeichnung seines Lebens, Bern 1979.

Gertrud Knoblauch (Hg.), Ernst Ludwig Kirchner, Briefwechsel mit einem jungen Ehepaar, 1927 – 1937. Elfriede Dümmler und Hansgeorg Knoblauch, Bern 1989.

Christian Saehrendt, Ernst Ludwig Kirchner. Bohème-Identität und nationale Sendung, Frankfurt a.M. 2003.
 

At the beginning of the 20^th century, Kirchner and the Brücke (Bridge) group of artists were seeking out new forms of expression beyond academic rules. Their focus was on the human body (especially the female one), which they sought to depict as naturally and ‘unadulterated’ as possible in ‘free’ and ‘primal’ poses, far removed from any ‘studio gentility’.^[1] To this end, they frequently worked with amateur models from their milieu, including children and adolescents.

Kirchner’s best known young models include Lina Franziska ‘Fränzi’ Fehrmann and Marcella Albertine Olga Sprentzel. When they began posing for the artist, Fränzi was just under 9 years old, and Marcella was 14. Between 1909 and 1912, numerous drawings, prints and paintings were produced, depicting the girls in everyday scenes, playing, but also undressed, sometimes with their legs spread wide or sitting naked on a likewise naked man.^[2] From today’s perspective, such depictions appear problematic due to their erotic aspect.

Kirchner also expressed himself to his fellow artist Erich Heckel in a manner suggesting that he viewed the bodies of his young models not only as objects of disinterested study, but also as ones of erotic projection. For example, in a letter in the spring of 1910, he wrote: ‘Marcella has now completely settled in and is developing fine features. We’ve become very familiar, lying on the carpet and playing. There’s a great charm in such chaste femininity, hints that can drive you crazy. Better than in older girls. More unfettered, yet without the mature woman losing out. Perhaps some of her is more complete than in the more mature ones and will wither away again. The richness is certainly greater now.’^[3]

Some interpretations understand Kirchner’s language in its historical context as an expression of an aesthetic attitude towards ‘primal naturalness’ and his works as a conscious counter-argument to academic and bourgeois norms.^[4] Others, however, regard it as a sexualisation of children.

This form of aesthetically erotic exploitation of minors has increasingly been addressed in recent years in the context of Kirchner’s reception – for example in 2010 by Felix Krämer, who curated the major retrospective of Ernst Ludwig Kirchner’s work at the Städel in Frankfurt; writing in the exhibition catalogue he stated: ‘The artists exploited the inexperience and innocence of children, who came closest to their idea of ​​the primal.’^[5] What was then considered part of an avant-garde artistic ideal now appears to be a transgression – precisely because children in particular are in need of protection.

Even though there is no evidence of activities that are or were criminal, Kirchner’s depictions and the Brücke artists’ treatment of their young models nevertheless raise critical questions today: what power relations informed such encounters? How did they influence the imagery? Were the children able to understand the implications of their consent during this sensitive period of their lives – and did they even consent at all?

Cultural scholar Irene Berkel, who has studied abusive correlations intensely, summarises as follows: ‘As much as some art historians will attempt to find evidence to transform vague suspicions into hard facts, the matter remains difficult to clarify.’^[6] The surviving sources are almost exclusively from the artists themselves, not from the children. What is undisputed, however, is that a clear relationship of power and dependency existed between the artists and their underage models, one favouring exploitation. The girls came from humble backgrounds, while Kirchner and his colleagues were from bourgeois families.

From a 21^st century perspective, Kirchner is regarded as one of the outstanding figures of 20^th century art. This is exactly why we are rigorously scrutinising and assessing his actions by our contemporary standards. However, the question of whether his behaviour towards the underage models overstepped the bounds remains open—until we are in possession of further facts.

Literature:

Irene Berkel, Genealogische Verwirrungen, in: Norbert Nobis (Hrsg.), Der Blick auf Fränzi und Marcella, Hannover 2011, S. 123–130.

Jenny Graser, Der transponierte Akt – Ernst Ludwig Kirchners Doppelbildnis Fränzi vor geschnitztem Stuhl, in: Annick Haldemann (Hrsg.), Kirchner neu denken, München 2019, S. 175–185.

Felix Krämer, E. L. Kirchner. Im Widerspruch, in: Kirchner (Ausst.-Kat. Städel Museum), Berlin 2010, S. 13–33.

Regina Klein, Ganz nah dran. Porträts von Fränzi und Marzella, in: Magdalena M. Moeller (Hrsg.), Fränzi und Marzella – Wer sie waren und wie sie sind. Auf Spurensuche im Brücke-Museum, Heidelberg 2014, S. 90–94.

Jill Lloyd, Sexualität und Nacktheit, in: Annick Haldemann (Hrsg.), Kirchner neu denken, München 2019, S. 151–163.

Norbert Nobis, Mein Blick auf Fränzi und Marcella, in: Norbert Nobis (Hrsg.), Der Blick auf Fränzi und Marcella, Hannover 2011, S. 29–36.

Gerd Presler, E. L. Kirchner, Seine Frauen, seine Modelle, seine Bilder, München/New York 1998, S. S. 43–45.

Roland Scotti, Die Brücke-Maler und ihre Frauendarstellungen, in: Jahrbuch der Staatlichen Kunstsammlungen Dresden, Bd. 53: Sonderband „Gruppe und Individuum in der Künstlergemeinschaft Brücke. 100 Jahre Brücke – Neueste Forschung“, Dresden 2008, S. 71–77

Brigitte Schad, Frauen um Kirchner. Zeichnung, Graphik, Fotografie (Ausst.-Kat. KirchnerHaus Aschaffenburg), Aschaffenburg 2016.