A Casual Defiance of History: The secret of Trude Fleischmann

Trude Fleischmann self portrait with camera
Trude Fleischmann self-portrait, 1928 (Wien Museum)

Why are outstanding women often forgotten or overlooked? Fortunately, Trude Fleischmann is not quite a secret anymore due to an extensive and masterfully-presented exhibition at Vienna’s Wien Museum—which thoroughly solidified her position as one of the most important Austrian and Jewish female photographers, as well as showcasing her as one of the most significant photographers of the 20th century.

Fleischmann launched her career at a time when Austrian women had just begun to assert themselves socially and professionally. She began her four-year course of photography studies in 1913 at Vienna’s Institute for Photography and Reproduction Techniques, just five years after the institute had opened its doors to women in 1908. Photography was an overwhelmingly male-dominated field, and leading photographers often disparaged women’s contributions: Influential Viennese photo-journalist Hermann Clemens Kosel even stated that women brought “the moral seriousness of art into absurdity”.

The exhibition, Trude Fleischmann –The Self-Assured Eye (Der selbstbewusste Blick), covered Fleischmann’s Vienna period from 1920-1938, highlighting her exceptional studio portraits along with Alpine landscapes and street photography. The portraits show Fleischmann’s mastery of her art and a unique identification and understanding of her subjects. Her studio (at Ebendorfer St. 3 near City Hall) was the scene of many parties for her well-connected circle of friends, and frequented by the many artists, performers and intellectuals whom she photographed.

Fleischmann and her colleagues were in touch with the social, political and artistic movements afoot in Europe at the time. A significant part of this was the emerging status of women, growing out of necessity. During the World War I, with workers scarce, women took over traditionally male professions. After the war ended these women, many of whom were Jewish, continued their careers, exerting their independent spirit. Trude Fleischmann gave shape to this new self-assured woman with the revealing portrayals of her contemporaries, the success and popularity of her studio, and the devotion to her craft.

Portrait of writer Karl Kraus, with his hands centered in image
Portrait of writer Karl Kraus; photographer Trude Fleischmann, 1930

At times expressive and bold, sensitive and delicate, personal and serious, Fleischmann brought not only her subjects’ images onto the printed photograph, but their personality and essence as well. She deftly combined her finely-tuned sensibility with the emerging technology, notably in her choice of composition and cropping to accentuate personal or identifying characteristics of those captured. One notable example–and one of my favorites–is an image from 1930 of Austrian writer and journalist Karl Kraus, in which the writer’s hands take precedence, his enigmatic face off to the left and largely cropped out of the frame.

Outstanding among her portraits are the motion studies of modern dancers, capturing the dynamic, sculptural poses and avant-garde costumes of this era of expanding female liberation, as the women proudly express their emergent personal and artistic freedoms. The portrait of Austrian stage actress, the Countess of Carnarvon Tilly Losch (née Ottilie Ethel Leopoldine Losch) is particularly enthralling, posed as ‘Princess Teablossom in the ballet, Whipped Cream’ (sounding like a ballet that would’ve enthralled Edward Gorey). The exhibition also includes the provocative nude portraits of the of dancer Claire Bauroff — photos considered scandalous in their time; upon public presentation in Berlin in 1925, they were censored and confiscated by the police. Advertising the 2011 exhibition, a larger-than-life image of the nude and relaxed Bauroff adorned the outside of the Wien Museum, in a casual defiance of history.

Trude Fleischmann exhibition catalog
Exhibition catalog cover with Fleischmann’s photo of dancer, Claire Bauroff.

The exhibition followed Trude Fleischmann’s flight from Vienna to New York City, following the Anschluss in 1938 (Hitler’s annexation of Austria), when the studios of other Jewish women photographers began to be “Aryanized” or their names and identities “deregistered.” These contemporaries included other successful Viennese photographers such as Edith Glogau, Grete Kollin, Trude Geiringer and Edith Barakovich, who were also shown in the exhibition, giving a taste of what yet lies to be discovered. In 1940 Fleischmann opened a studio in Manhattan’s theater district at 127 West 56th Street, successfully adapting to her new home and expanding into street portraiture. Just two years later she became an American citizen. Eventually she relocated out of the city into Putnam County, in the village of Brewster, New York. Now more than twenty years after her death in 1990, this was the first major exhibition of Fleischmann’s photographs, described by co-curator Anton Holzer as one of leading “forgotten women photographers.”

Beautiful photo of the silhouettes of a horn player and a dancer in front of a large window
Ernst Matray (dancer, choreographer, actor and director; seated) and Katta Sterna (actress and dancer) by Trude Fleischmann

“Strange as it sounds,” Holzer explains, “Trude Fleischmann was recognized in her time, but today as a reference point for young photographers, she is still a secret.” In the aftermath of World War II and the diaspora of Jews throughout the world, the pre-war lifestyle and culture that had flourished in Vienna was lost, as was even the memory of their very existence — not only with the destruction of photographs and negatives, but with the lost lives of the friends, family and relatives who knew the women and their work.

The exhibition was the continuation of a movement begun in the 1980s and 90s to recover the remaining and underrepresented contributions of Jewish culture in the years between the wars, as Austria then began to deal with this dark chapter of its history. “Forgetting is not a natural process,” Holzer emphasized. While much of the culture from that time has been lost there is still much to rediscover as we continue to reaquaint ourselves with these distinctive women, such as Trude Fleischmann, and the expressive lifestyles of those she photographed.

Photographs on the wall of a Trude Fleischmann exhibition
A room of the exhibition at the Wien Musuem.
Entrance to exhibition on Trude Fleischmann in Wien Museum
Trude Fleischmann exhibit, Wien Museum

* This piece was adapted from an article I wrote for The Vienna Review.

The Alchemy of Anselm Kiefer

A few years ago I was asked to write an article on an Anselm Kiefer exhibition in Vienna. I approached the job and the artwork with great trepidation and uncertainty. Upon seeing the exhibition, I became immersed, enthralled and transfixed. I felt small, yet a part of everything. I felt connected:

“It is utterly beyond our power to measure the changes of things by time… Time is an abstraction at which we arrive by means of the changes of things; made because we are not restricted to any one definite measure, all being interconnected.” – Ernst Mach
Horlogium - Anselm Kiefer
Horlogium, Anselm Kiefer, 2003 (oil, emulsion, acrylic, and plaster plants on canvas)

A dark and turbulent scene displays the power of nature in shades of grey and blue; sea and shore converge. The elements collide, blend and swirl in a transitory, impassioned dance. A leaden book attached to the canvas floats in a tempestuous sky, as a reservoir of achievements in knowledge or imagination. Memories to revisit, perhaps, that humanity has for so long elevated above nature, as if it can somehow be separate from what it is merely a part. The book open to a page that can never be read, never be understood.

I encountered this striking painting from artist Anselm Kiefer at the Essl Museum, in a contemporary building located in a in a quiet little town just outside of Vienna, Austria. Even with the pleasant natural lighting of the gallery falling through the skylights, the works of art–grand in dimension, darkness and decay–command an overpowering presence. I wasn’t sure what to think of Anselm Kiefer’s work at first, although my first experience of his work was through viewing pieces on the internet. Not remotely in line with experiencing his work in person, physically…with senses. 

Upon first entry into the airy exhibition space, I was overwhelmed by the massive, contrasting presence of this piece, Nur mit Wind mit Zeit und mit Klang [Only with Wind with Time and with Sound], the title taken from the Ingeborg Bachmann poem, “Exil”.  I felt tiny–just an element, helpless to nature’s kinetic mysteries and diversity. But I also felt a part, a part of nature, a part of the elements, a part of change; a part of the mysteries of life and art and time.

Nur mit Wind mit Zeit und mit Klang, Anselm Kiefer
Nur mit Wind mit Zeit und mit Klang, Anselm Kiefer, 2011 (oil, emulsion, acrylic, shellac, and lead on canvas)
Anselm Kiefer painting - Essl Vienna
A patron viewing the piece in the Essl

In his works Kiefer addresses the transience of memory, nature and civilisation along with diverse subjects, such as Norse mythology with TBC (Hödur) and the structure of the cosmos in Horlogium [Shooting Stars]. This latter piece leads my attention to the centre of the room and its accompaniment piece: Black tape on the floor squares off a section wherein lies fragments scattered around a stack of leaden books, Skulptur mit Sternen [Sculpture with Stars]. The books appear worn, their covers and pages abused with overuse, ready to exhale their restrained words into the aether.

TBC (Hödur) by Anselm Kiefer
Detail from Anselm Kiefer’s TBC (Hödur), with reflection of the exhibition room. The art appears more natural than its human environment. (oil, emulsion, shellac, branches, mistletoe leaves and soil on board)

I can understand why the museum’s founder, Karlheinz Essl, curated this exhibition on Anselm Kiefer himself. The pieces are all featured from his own personal collection and carefully presented “in order to make the power, radiance and spirituality of the works tangible and experienceable.”

Kiefer also takes inspiration from religion, with Samson and Ich bin der ich bin [I am who I am], and literature, including 17th century scholar Robert Fludd and the poet Paul Celan. Literary references appear in the title of some pieces, such Tönend wie des Kalbs Haut die Erde [Ringing out, as on the calf’s hide, the earth] from a poem by Friedrich Hölderlin, and are handwritten directly on some works of art themselves. The words of the poet cycled through the mind of the artist, mixed with the gritty elements of nature, blended and painted onto the tensile canvas.

Born in Donaueschingen, Germany on 8 March 1945, shortly before the end of World War II, Kiefer grew up amongst the ruins of the war, which ended up being his childhood playground as he used the rubble to construct little houses. This early influence in his life carried through in his artwork, such as his controversial use of themes relating to his country’s guilt and remembrance of World War II.

The cycle of growth, destruction and renewal is evident in work such as The Fertile Crescent, also featured from Essl’s collection. The Fertile Crescent being the area in the Middle East considered formative in the development of human culture, wherein early human civilisations developed. Here in Kiefer’s painting, mixed media on a colossal canvas show monumental ruins—civilisation decayed. Perhaps these ruins are only in a moment of transition, as time plays itself out into unknown possibilities.

“Ruins represent the future,” Kiefer states and then comments on his childhood: “The house next to our home was bombed to the ground. I never felt that the debris was something negative. This is just a state of transition, of change, of evolution. The postwar rubble and debris from the big cities cleared up by women, the so-called Trümmerfrauen [rubble women]—a term of almost mythological significance today—is what I employed to build houses. This debris has always been the starting point of something new being conceived.”

The fragility of the organic materials Kiefer uses accompanies the themes of decay, transience and renewal, the physical future of the pieces being uncertain. Besides lead, materials Kiefer uses include oil, acrylic and charcoal as well as more unconventional media such as soil, plaster and mistletoe leaves. In some works, branches, objects and sculpture are affixed to the front of the canvas, providing dimension to the textural surface. Art and nature reach into the controlled space of the museum, as if at any time they could pull you into their world for a change.

“In my pictures I tell stories to show what is behind the story. I open up a hole and I go through it.” – Anselm Kiefer 

Walking through the exhibition, winding through the rooms, I waver between observer and element—apart from, then a part of—as if we are all interconnected sculptures in transition, works by the greatest artist of the universe. Anselm Kiefer’s work would allegedly be contemporary art, but I find it to be of a timeless expression: The present in a dance with the effects of humanity and the past, the mysteries of mythology and the cosmos, and the uncertainty of decay and the future. Artwork that may not only cause one to question its meaning, but leave those questions never fully answered.

Kiefer’s art presents an alchemical, elliptical system: One of civilisation, recollection and fantasy affected by the mysteries of time and transformation.  Each work can be seen as an extract of this system—a moment caught as emotions and interpretations are released. The cycle of nature is endless; a work of art is but a glimpse of the eternal expressed.

Anselm Kiefer and his studio
Portrait of Anselm Kiefer, above, and the artist in his Paris atelier (© Renate Graf)


I am dead, a wanderer
no longer registered anywhere
unknown in the prefect’s domain
of no use in the golden cities
and the greening land
long dispensed with
and provided with no more
than with wind with time and with sound

I who cannot live among people
with the German language
this cloud around me
which I hold as a house
drifting through all languages

Oh how it grows dark
those dark sounds,
rain sounds
only a few fall
It will carry the dead into brighter regions

– Ingeborg Bachmann
translation via Project Muse

This piece was adapted from an article I wrote for 
The Vienna Review
All artwork in this post © Anselm Kiefer. 


Everything is Moving! Capturing movement with Kinetism in Art

Lokomotive by Erika Giovanna Klien
Lokomotive by Erika Giovanna Klien, 1926 oil on canvas

Compelled by the desire for the renewal of art in the context of the thriving, urban setting of the early 20th century – with burgeoning technologies and a lifestyle faster-paced than ever before experienced – a Viennese group of artists engaged an artistic perspective in the context of European modernism, Kinetismus, “Kinetism” ( not to be confused with kinetic art). The name coming from the Greek word for movement, kinesis, it was not actually regarded as a movement itself; instead it was a classroom centered around ideals and challenges, contemporary issues, and the avant-garde. A stunning exhibition at Vienna’s Lower Belvedere museum showed an array of Kinestismus Kunst alongside early 20th century Cubism and Futurism.

At that time, motorization and urban expansion were well underway and people’s social lives were developing along with these changes, with increasing levels of transportation and communication, avant-garde modern dance and theater, and emerging social liberations. The artists of this time and place visually abstracted these dynamic changes, including visual realizations of the increased urban noise and the Futurists’ glorified beauty of speed.

Sculptural Construction of Noise and Speed by Giacomo Balla
Sculptural Consctruction of Noise and Speed – Giacomo Balla 1914-15, reconstructed 1968 (Hirschhorn Museum, photo: Joe Loong

The Italian Futurists, neighbors to Vienna’s home country of Austria, emphasized concepts of the future, including speed, technology, youth and industry in every medium of art. Their artistic concepts were represented in painting with a “universal dynamism”, which seems at home in this exhibition with its Cubist and Kinetist comrades, and somehow seems at home in many of the spiritually conscious writings and quantum conceptualizations of today. As noted:

Objects in reality were not separate from one another or from their surroundings: “The sixteen people around you in a rolling motor bus are in turn and at the same time one, ten four three; they are motionless and they change places…The motor bus rushes into houses which it passes, and in their turn the houses throw themselves upon the motor bus and are blended with it.”

Cubism – the avant-garde artistic movement with Pablo Picasso as a recognizable pioneer – also portrayed alternative perspectives and reflected the changing environment:

In cubist artworks, objects are broken up, analyzed, and re-assembled in an abstracted form—instead of depicting objects from one viewpoint, the artist depicts the subject from a multitude of viewpoints to represent the subject in a greater context. Often the surfaces intersect at seemingly random angles, removing a coherent sense of depth. The background and object planes interpenetrate one another to create the shallow ambiguous space, one of cubism’s distinct characteristics.

The Man at the Café by Juan Gris
The Man at the Café – Juan Gris, 1914 oil and adhesive

The three dynamic perspectives of Cubism, Futurism and Kinetism merge in the exhibition into a distinct purview of modernism and its influence. Pioneering Kinetism was Franz Cizek, professor at the Vienna School of Arts and Crafts (today’s School of Applied Art), who declared Kinetism as “modern life pulsed through activism.” Rightfully shown in this exhibition alongside the likes of Fernand Léger, El Lissitzky and Pablo Picasso were Cizek’s students, notably Erika Giovanna Klien, Elisabeth Karlinsky, Marianne/My Ullmann and Wolfgang Leopold Rochawanski.

“Everything is, everything is moving” — Cizek declared to his students, reflecting on the dynamic nature of the world with inspiration from the natural sciences and philosophy. Cizek’s teaching concept can be summarized with these steps (Rochowanski 1922):

The awakening of emotions (Expressionism)
The awakening of the brain (Cubism)
The awakening of the eyes (Kinetism)
New feeling, new thinking, new vision

The students were encouraged to utilize a multidisciplinary foundation in their creative processes, seizing influences from art, science, aesthetics and cultural history to form their own artistic language and develop a vibrant creative network within the intellectual climate of Vienna. Embracing modern ideals of progress with the desire for the renewal of art, the students were receptive to the environment they were in and which Cizek created. Instead of recreating a single moment in space or time, they were capturing dimensional movements on the canvas.

Diving Bird by Erika Giovanna Klien
Diving Bird (Tauchender Vogel) – Erika Giovanna Klien 1939, oil on canvas

Also within the contextual thought there at the beginning of the century was a search for the “‘laws of the spirit’, a new spirituality played an important role in Vienna in 1900. After 1918, Rudolf Steiner’s anthroposophical worldview was booming.” [the Belvedere] This inspired the artists, such as the Swiss expressionist painter also included in the exhibition, Johannes Itten. Itten, inspired in part by Cizek and during his years spent in Vienna led his own private art school, was a student himself of Eastern religions and theosophy. His spiritual searchings, which included the practice of meditation, naturally influenced his art, including his color theories and image analyses. Itten’s teaching principles included supporting the creative impulses of his students, even to the point of not correcting their work individually.

Balancing inner and outer movements was characteristic of Kinetism, whether it be dispaying the dinstinctive interpretations of color, the motions of a bird in flight or modern dancer, or musical expressions alighting on the canvas. It was, as Itten suggested, a matter of “wanting to represent concentrations of thought.”

With art, as with our imagination, anything is possible. These personal interpretations of the rhythms of life in our kinetic world produced paintings that at first might seem completely abstract, but then fall into place as the observer falls into their natural rhythms—such as Klien’s Abstraction: a horse and carriage forever caught in multiple moments of time and space.

Abstraction - Erika Giovanna Klien
Abstraction – Erika Giovanna Klien 1926 gouache and watercolor on canvas (Photo ©Yale Univ. Art Gallery, 2010)

From Harald Krejci and Kerstin Jesse of the Belvedere (translated from the German, viele Entschuldigungen für meine Übersetzung):

Within the term Viennese Kinetism today, we combine different artistic positions from the period between 1918 and 1929. The common feature is the search for a synthesis of the inner expression with Cubist and Futurist conceptual forms, in order to take the modern living environment into account. Elementary image forms are rhythmicized through lines of movement and display superimposed dynamic motion sequences.The dynamics of the city, the new expressions of dance, the mechanization of the environment and the reflection on the processes of perception formed the basis for an over ten-year history of abstraction in Vienna. Central to the network of young artists was Franz Cizek’s Department of Ornamental Morphology at the Vienna Arts and Crafts School, whose motto was:

“Not to teach, not to learn — allow growth from one’s own roots”
„Nicht lehren, nicht lernen – wachsen lassen aus dem eigenen Wurzeln“

Cizel school of art, Vienna
Artwork attributed to Cizek’s school