Purity and Mammon

Day 3, 28 November 2011

There is the usual breakfast, and our destination is only a couple of blocks away.  A little explanation must be made.  We are going to see the Königliche Porzellan-Manufaktur (KPM) in Berlin.  We first became aware of this institution when we saw some remarkable dishes in a now defunkt shop in San Francisco.  The design of the dishes was very simple with the exception of a bisque medallion of a classical theme.  The pieces were both stunning and excrutiatingly expensive.  That's the only reason we didn't buy any - then.  When I was in Berlin in 2004(?), I purchased a chocolate set for Arthur.

Now we wanted to see where this stuff had been made, and who had designed it.  We wandered through their galleries, which educated the visitor about how porcelain had come to Europe and the difficulty of its manufacture; along with the history of design.  Our pieces had been affixed to a pattern by Trudi Petri with medallions by Siegmund Schütz.  Several things came to mind as we looked at past and present work by KPM.  Many of the artists of the last century came to work for the concern around 1937, when their teaching posts were "terminated".  My mind quickly leapt to the Bauhaus dissolution, first in Dessau and then, finally in a converted warehouse in Berlin, where both students and teachers were arrested.

The other aspect of being here was to be close to all the artists who had worked here.  Some 150,000 moulds and pieces are archived, representing the work of the firm for over 200 years.  All those people, and the delicacy of their work, not only produced everyday wear, but to some extent a history of the national time.  We would bump into some of them later.  Until then, however, we browsed the shops, still found everything too costly, and retreated to the Café where I had a wonderful hot chocolate that was not unlike the Spanish chocolate that those people dip their churros in.  

Our next goal was the Bauhaus Archiv, a museum, educational institution, and center for all things Bauhaus.  The building is based on plans by Walter Gropius, and the long walkway, which you see above, takes you from the far end of the site on Klingelhöferstaße, through the gardens, into the midst of the buildings, and then curves around into the court that allows you to enter a very simple entrance into the complex.  A sign explains that the journey is a "glimpse of eternity", the eternity that is known in an augenblick - a moment.  That sentiment has summed up the day, so far, as we journeyed from the luxurious and the historical, to the simple and influential.

There were two installations to be seen: 1) the collection of Bauhaus materials (of all sorts) and 2) a proposal by Gropius for a Stadtkrone an acropolis at the city of Halle.  The materials are stunning.  After a group of chairs and furniture that show the influence of the group (Tom Wolfe once said that any aspiring architect, designer, painter, printer, or sculptor longed to own at least one Wassily Chair.

I know, I bought one.  There was stuff their that I knew from living in an Eero Saarinen environment during my college days.  Most moving was a couple of samples from László Moholy-Nagy's "first course" that every student had to take.  Using basic materials: cardboard, wood, tin or brass, wire, string, and other basic materials, students were required to make something "elemental". I wondered, who starts at the very beginning any more?  Preachers can't read Greek or Hebrew, accountants know nothing of Babylonian records, and painters can't draw.  I wonder what it would be like if we all somehow got back to the basics?  Perhaps that is the Lutheran remaining in my soul.  Perhaps this longing is too naïve.

Konstruction - László Moholy-Nagy

This painting, Konstruction, seems to say it all.  The assemblage that bisects the field in both directions, seems balanced and satisfying.  However, floating near by, in a reflected manner, the whole composition drifts, mirrors the balance, but is something different.  It's almost Platonic in its meaning, and it seemed to symbolize for me the remainder of the collection.  A balance was being sought in the textiles, photography (which Nagy introduced into the curriculum), the metal and wood work, and above all the architectural work - from the Barcelona Pavilion to the Red House.  It seems to be a balance that today's architecture has difficulty in approaching, let alone achieving.  A good book, if you're interested, is Nicholas Fox Weber's The Bauhaus Group - Six Master's of Modernism.

Lunch and the Gropius, which was both forward looking, especially in comparison with the other submissions, and then a look at the shop.  I'm tired, so we go back for a bit of a nap, and then off to the Universität de Kunst for a trumpet concert by students.  Uneven, but pleasant.  Dinner at Faustus near Wittenberger Platz, and then home.