Heinrich Vogeler: Awakening from the Fairytale

Das Konzert, Sommerabend, 1905

The current exhibition at the Tokyo Station Gallery fits in perfectly with the sense of innocence and enchantment that Christmas brings. Artistic appreciation adds sophistication to our way of looking at life, but it can also generate a conceit that sneers at the homely, naive and magical.

Heinrich Vogeler (1872–1942) was an artist who always painted with such unfashionable innocence and idealism. In his early career he created fairy tale images, and much of his later work was connected with the ‘fairy tale’ of Soviet propaganda. Nevertheless, this is an artist of quality whose art reflects the deep impact of the traumatic events that convulsed the 20th century.

Fruhling, 1897

Born into that Art Nouveau generation of artists partly inspired by Japanese art, Vogeler was also significant for his return influence on Japanese artists. While in technique, Art Nouveau learned much from the clarity of line, spaciousness of composition, boldness and flatness of color and light of Japanese wood block prints, in theme, there was a tendency to focus on the mystical and the ancient.

Nowhere was this more evident than in Germany with its strong tradition of Marchen (fairy stories) Vogeler’s work is replete with such themes. His oil painting, Swan Fairytale (1899) and countless copperplate etchings are full of medieval romance. Even those works that are not ostensibly fairy tales are suffused with a magical atmosphere reminiscent of the work of the Pre–Raphaelites, such as Martha Von Hembarg (1894).

Weihnachten (Christmas), 1912
In his early oil paintings, he developed a style that used a clear neutral light, as opposed to direct light with shading. This flattened and balanced the rich textures of foliage and fabric he loved. His most famous work Fruhling (1897) epitomizes this, showing his first wife Martha looking at a bird symbolizing himself. He makes masterly use of silhouette, employing the dull light of the sky to highlight the branches of the surrounding birch trees.

It was through his copperplate prints, however, that he first began to influence Japanese artists. In 1910 the first edition of the influential Japanese art magazine Shirakaba (The White Birch) was launched. It organized several exhibitions featuring Vogeler’s prints and devoted a special issue to his work. It even adopted his design White Birch (1912) as the magazine’s symbol. Among those impressed by the sweet and gentle character of the German artist’s prints was the painter and print designer Takehisa Yumeji and Soetsu Yanagi the founder of the Japanese Folk Craft movement.

Karelia and Murmansk, 1926
Just as his work was starting to become influential, however, World War I broke out and Vogeler, unhappy in his marriage to Martha, was swept up in the enthusiasm of war and volunteered for the German army. The horrors of war soon disillusioned him and in 1918 he was temporarily sent to a lunatic asylum for writing a protest letter to the Kaiser.

After the war he became an active member of the German Communist party. By now his work was increasingly political.

Instead of scenes of wistful innocence, he turned towards heavily expressionist works, including his soulful Portrait of Sonja Marchlewska (1922), his second wife, and dynamic cubist–influenced collages glorifying the Soviet Union, such as Karelia and Murmansk (1926), a strident propaganda work celebrating several modernization schemes in the Soviet Union, some  of which involved slave labourers from the gulags who were worked to death. 

As a dedicated Communist, he was threatened by the rise of Nazism in his Germany, but escaped by defecting to the Soviet Union in 1931.

His later works show an interesting maturity of styles, such as his Portrait of Lotte Loebinger (1938), a fellow exile, suggesting that perhaps a hint of disillusionment with the "Socialist miracle" was setting in.

Portrait of Lotte Loebinger, 1938

Following the German invasion of the Soviet Union in 1941, his German nationality rendered him persona non grata and he was relocated to Kazahkstan where he died a forgotten man. It is only with the end of this turbulent century that his reputation as a unique and significant artist has started to reemerge.


C.B.Liddell
Asahi Shimbun

15th December, 2000


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