WHEN the Nazis mounted an exhibition in Munich in 1937, their purpose was not to celebrate art, but condemn it. The so-called 'Entartete Kunst' or 'Degenerate Art' show was a macabre blockbuster designed to represent what was perceived to be the very worst of German society, specifically the trailblazers of the European avantgarde. The sprawling presentation, which consisted of 740 works confiscated from major institutions across the country, turned some of the greatest artists of the modern age into enemies of the state.
Among pieces by artists such as Max Beckmann, Otto Dix and Ernst Ludwig Kirchner hung a total of 14 paintings by Wassily Kandinsky, a Russian abstractionist who had long made Germany his home. These included Zweierlei Rot (Two kinds of red) from 1916, an expressive explosion of brushstrokes that was denounced for its apparent Bolshevik sensibilities, and Improvisation 10 (from 1910), a riot of colour designed to suggest a spiritual resonance.
The vitriolic caption scrawled across the wall read 'crazy at any price'.
The fact that the Nazi regime took such a deep dislike to Kandinsky's work should come as no surprise. Since the turn of the 20th century, he had pursued a form of art that did away with the rational or outwardly representational, instead searching for a transcendental power that could be evoked through light, colour and form. He is considered one of the earliest if not the earliest-proponents of pure abstraction in modern Europe.
هذه القصة مأخوذة من طبعة April 17, 2024 من Country Life UK.
ابدأ النسخة التجريبية المجانية من Magzter GOLD لمدة 7 أيام للوصول إلى آلاف القصص المتميزة المنسقة وأكثر من 8500 مجلة وصحيفة.
بالفعل مشترك ? تسجيل الدخول
هذه القصة مأخوذة من طبعة April 17, 2024 من Country Life UK.
ابدأ النسخة التجريبية المجانية من Magzter GOLD لمدة 7 أيام للوصول إلى آلاف القصص المتميزة المنسقة وأكثر من 8500 مجلة وصحيفة.
بالفعل مشترك? تسجيل الدخول
Put some graphite in your pencil
Once used for daubing sheep, graphite went on to become as valuable as gold and wrote Keswick's place in history. Harry Pearson inhales that freshly sharpened-pencil smell
Dulce et decorum est
Michael Sandle is the Wilfred Owen of art, with his deeply felt sense of the futility of violence. John McEwen traces the career of this extraordinary artist ahead of his 88th birthday
Heaven is a place on earth
For the women of the Bloomsbury group, their country gardens were places of refuge, reflection and inspiration, as well as a means of keeping loved ones close by, discovers Deborah Nicholls-Lee
A haunt of ancient peace - The gardens at Iford Manor, near Bradford-on-Avon, Wiltshire The home of the Cartwright-Hignett family
After recent renovations, this masterpiece of Harold Peto's garden-making must be counted one of the finest gardens in England
It's the plants, stupid
I WON my first prize for gardening when I was nine years old at prep school. My grandmother was delighted-it was she who had sent me the seeds of godetia, eschscholtzia and Virginia stock that secured my victory.
Pretty as a picture
The proliferation of honey-coloured stone cottages is part of what makes the Cotswolds so beguiling. Here, we pick some of our favourites currently on the market
How golden was my valley
These four magnificent Cotswold properties enjoy splendid views of hill and dale
Mere moth or merveille du jour?
Moths might live in the shadows of their more flamboyant butterfly counterparts, but some have equally artistic names, thanks to a 'golden' group, discovers Peter Marren
The magnificent seven
The Mars Badminton Horse Trials, the oldest competition of its kind in the world, celebrates its 75th anniversary this weekend. Kate Green chooses seven heroic winners in its history
Angels in the house
Winged creatures, robed figures and celestial bodies are under threat in a rural church. Jo Caird speaks to the conservators working to save northern Europe's most complete Romanesque wall paintings