^{Thomas Sarbacher reads excerpts from letters written by Daniel-Henry Kahnweiler to Hermann Rupf between 1941 and 1944. French, 10 min.}

Kahnweiler to Rupf, Le Repaire l’Abbaye – 13 January 1941

My dear friends,

                       Thank you so much for your kind wishes.

We hope that Marguerite – who hadn’t yet recovered when you were writing your letter of [26] Dec., my dear Mane, but who seemed to be feeling better by the time you wrote to the Lascaux family – is fully recovered and that you’ll be leaving together for Mürren. Winter sports – I have to say, I shiver at the thought!

[...]

Yes, you’re 60 – and I’m not far off. I can’t get used to the idea that we’re old. I wonder if our fathers felt old at our age? I think they probably did. Besides, it’s not entirely a virtue to be young, and I act all too often as if I’m never going to die. [...]

Kahnweiler to Rupf, Le Repaire l’Abbaye – 28 February 1941

[…] Our lives are much the same as they have been for some time now, except that the cold weather is behind us, thankfully, because we’ve barely been keeping warm – and it’s warmer now. The park is blue with all the violets. Despite all the faith we may have in the just cause, there are moments when we feel despondent, not perhaps about the final result, but when we think of the harm these people may do in the future. At times like these, I find myself hypnotised by the radio and the newspapers – just like in the old days when I used to wait for the “Morgenbund” to come out at 11 o’clock in the evening... I can’t work at times like this and my writing is somewhat doddery. Fortunately, so far it’s always passed, and so “Gris” is coming along in any case. I think I have a few things to say that are fair and new, although the absence of any documents still rather bothers me. […]

Kahnweiler to Rupf, Le Repaire l’Abbaye – 14 April 1941

[…] I’m working very assiduously on my book about Gris. I think you’d be pleased with me, my dear Mane, if I could read you what I’ve written so far. I’m going through the second part again: “The work of Juan Gris”, the only one I’ve written so far. It has around 120 to 130 pages. The first part will be “The life of Juan Gris”, the third “The writings of Juan Gris”.

In this second part, I’ve written an introduction of about twenty pages, about general aesthetics etc., with my old ideas, but improved, exhausted, I think. Then, Gris’s own work from Madrid to his death, with insights into the Art of the time in general. […]

I feel on good form. It’s coming along nicely, and I’m firmly convinced that I’ve found a fair few new and important things about the painting of our time. As you put it so kindly: I really think I am the only one who can write this book on Gris. […]

Kahnweiler to Rupf, Le Repaire l’Abbaye – 20 April 1942

[…] Physically, we’re fine. Morally we’re holding up and, when I’m awake, I don’t notice the tension my nerves are under, but they take their revenge at night when my will no longer controls them; I become dreadfully restless with horrible dreams, etc. etc. etc.

You’ll never realise how lucky you are to have been born Swiss! […]

Kahnweiler to Rupf, Le Repaire l’Abbaye – 6 November 1942

[…] You asked me if I wouldn’t like to do what Léger and Masson did [and go into exile]. Now it would be too late anyway, I think.

What do you want? I’ve decided – we’ve decided, Lucie and I – in good conscience and after careful consideration, to do as we did in the past. We decided it was the right thing for us to do. So far, we’ve had no cause for regret. No one knows what the future holds on this point, and we’ll only be able to judge whether we were right or wrong later on. […]

Kahnweiler to Rupf, Le Repaire l’Abbaye – 9 January 1943

[…] I’m sorry, my dear Mane, I didn’t get around to wishing you a happy birthday. I do so belatedly here, but with no less affection, on behalf of both of us, and we also send you our most fervent wishes for a happy new year. When will we see each other again? Perhaps in 1943? I hope so. Of course, we’d like to come and visit you, but it doesn’t seem possible at the moment. […]

Kahnweiler to Rupf, St. Léonard – 2 February 1943

My good friends,

We hadn’t heard from you for over a month and we feared some disruption in the postal service with Switzerland. However, Elie received a letter from you today, dated 2 Jan. We were delighted to read it. I’ve just made enquiries at the post office, and they tell me that you can send letters to Switzerland. I’m writing you a card for today (I have a feeling it will get there faster than a letter). […]

Kahnweiler to Rupf, Le Repaire l’Abbaye – 23 February 1943

[...] I had to step out to close the shutters a bit because I’m so hot from the sun shining outside my open window.
There you are: I hope my letter reaches you as soon.

Please send our love to Gustie, Gustave and Elly. [Be] well, and always believe in us

           Your old, faithful friends

           Lucie and Heini

P.S. When I think about how we know each other, about how we’ve been friends for 42 years, the two of us, [yes], Mane and me! Neither of us is getting any younger!

Kahnweiler to Rupf, St. Léonard – 9 June 1943

My good friends,

           Nobody in the family has heard from you lately. I hope you’re well and that the post is just delayed. In any case, I don’t want to leave you without news of us: it’s been just a month and a day since my last letter. 

           First of all, to tell you about our health: we’re fine. In any case, the operation I was supposed to have has been postponed until after the end of the war, no doubt. [...]

Kahnweiler to Rupf, Paris – 16 December 1944

My dear friends,

           I’ve just been told that you can send postcards from Switzerland as of yesterday. I’d like to take this opportunity to tell you that we’re safe, and have been back in Paris now for two months. Later, I’ll tell you about our adventures with the Gestapo and our subsequent clandestine life in Lot-et-Garonne. Thanks to Zette’s admirable energy, I found that the Galerie is flourishing. Unfortunately, Lucie, who’s been feeling ill for a year, had to have an operation on Monday

[…]

I have to inform you of the death of Kandinsky, who had been ill for months. I attended his funeral this morning. I’ll write to you again shortly. We send you our love

Heini