dix12

writings: the diaries
of otto dix

Today a letter from Felixmueller.

Dear Otto:

I am a father Its a boy. The name is Joachim after
Ursulas father. What can I say about this moment? Its a
miracle. I was present. The delivery was uneventful as
they say. Ursula popped this thing out like a donut.

Now that this child is born what do we do with it. Keep it
alive somehow. U is fine. She wants to have another.

What else? We have these elections coming up. (I know
how fascinated you are by politics). The nazis are going
to pick up some seats. Hitler has been campaigning with
a vengeance.

Im a little divided in this. I dont care for this man. He is
a peasant. But the country is in terrible shape. This
depression has hit hard. In Berlin there are 2 million
unemployed. The bread lines are horrendous. And these
are not bums or painters. They are doctors, teachers,
engineers.

I have just about lost my patience with these Wiemar
types. Stresemann is a good man. Theyve all been good
men. We had Stresser who was a good man and Buning
who was a good man and von Schleicher who was a good
man. But nothing is happening. Its all talk. Its talk, talk,
talk. There is no action. Weve had 12 years of this. Hitler
also likes to talk. He is the champ. But the Nazis at least
suggest the possibility of action.

What do your American friends have to say?

Otherwise its the usual. I paint. I paint, I paint, I paint.
People are picking thru garbage for food and I am trying
to sell them paintings for 25,000 marks. But this is life. I
am a painter.

I am still with Fletcheim. He has been a good dealer for
me.I have a show coming up in the fall. I would like to
see you. I want you to be godfather to the child.

Regards, F

PS. What a dick on this kid!

I have a new student.

Its a good thing I am married. This is a girl I could
definitely fall in love with. Her name is Vera. She is from
Lithuania. She is Russian. Her family was obliged to flee
Russia during the Civil war. They lost everything and in
their case the loss was considerable. They were royalty
they had a castle. They had the castle and 200 or 300
years of accumulated possessions. They went first to
Lithuania and now are scattered throughout Europe. The
mother is in Italy. The father is in Berlin. She has two
sisters and a brother and numerous cousins. Its nothing
but Prince this and Princess that and all these Barons
and Baronesses and Counts and Countesses and so forth.
This is a well bred creature. She speaks 4 languages:
Russian, English, French and German. She rides a horse.
She plays tennis. Her cousin is Gottfried Von Cramm the
German champ. I/ve seen this man play. He/s made it
to the finals at Wimbeldon.

I have to be careful here. Woman are jealous creatures
and Martha is no exception. Even a little harmless tennis
with a beautiful young princess could be mis interpreted.

We are in Berlin for a few days.

We attended the christening of Felixmullers son. This was
a charming event. These two will be good parents. They
are perfect for this role. Most people should not have
children. Most people can barely open a can of tomato
soup without inflicting major tissue damage. Yet they
blithely continue to procreate and assume the
responsibility for raising children. According to a recent
article in the paper the purpose of marriage is to provide
the proper environment for the raising of children. The
inference is that miserable or apathetic people should
not marry. It only adds to the misery. When happy
people marry they raise happy children. When
miserable or apathetic people marry they produce
miserable, apathetic offspring who grow up aping the
parents and proceed to marry and procreate and the
entire process repeats itself. Its a mess.

Lunch with Fletchheim.

This was Felixmuellers idea. Fletcheim likes my work. I
am not unhappy with Mother Ey. But I have nothing to
lose so why not. I will see what he has to say.

He says the same as all of them. He will do this and this.
Then he will do this and this and this. I do nothing.
I paint and count the money.

I have been painting for 20 years and I have been
hearing this rap for 20 years. Dealers are like
politicians or real estate agents. They will say anything
to sign you up and once they have you signed up you
never hear from them again.

F is starting a magazine. He has the title: Der Sturm.
This is his dream. He invites me to contribute. As a
painter or writer? Either one. This interests me. I enjoy
writing. I have often thought of being a writer. There are
several advantages over painting:

1) you dont need a studio. You can do it anywhere.

2) its cheap. There are no art supplies. All you need is a
typewriting machine.

3) Writing is direct. Painting is ambiguous. It can be
interpreted in endless ways. But a writer can say it
exactly.

We will see. There is an issue of loyalty here. Plus I like
Mother Ey. She is fun. F doesnt push the issue.

We have a pleasant lunch. I have steak. Martha orders
stuffed breast of veal with prosciutto. We have
champagne. I catch up on some gossip. Who is screwing
who--sexually or in the money dept. This is what I miss--
dirt!

Tennis with Vera.

My game is improving. We play on clay. This a surface
that calls for steadiness in the groundstrokes dept. And
it is in the groundstrokes dept that my game
demonstrates a major flaw. I am constantly neglecting
the percentage shot to go for the spectacular winner.

This is what hurt me against Billy Wilder. I would get him
trapped at the net calling for a simple volley type drop
shot easily placed beyond the reach of his dwarfish arms
but instead i would be so enraged by his peasant
behaviour I would smash a vicious shot in the direction of
his head easily ducked and watch sailing out of bounds.

There is something about a good looking woman of
royal blood in a pair of tight fitting tennis shorts that is a
spectacular turn on. Esp after a few grueling sets causing
the sweat to bleed thru at the crotch and between the
cheeks of the ass.

But its strictly platonic. This is a new role for me. There
is something to be said for it. Once the dick goes into the
pussy everything changes. Madeline for example. That
was a close call. I thought for a moment I was going to
wind up like Herr Feldstein the German artist in LA with
my dick floating in a jar of formaldehyde.

Today she has a friend. The name is Trott--von Trott.
Another creature of royal blood. He is bald or soon to
be. Some women are turned on by this.

Trott is a student. He is pursuing a PhD in philosophy. I
took a philosophy class at the university. I had a
wonderful teacher. I got an A in this class. I wrote a
brilliant paper on Nietzsche. Yet I cant keep a
philosophical idea in my head for 5 minutes.

Von Trott is political. He is obsessed by this subject. He
despises Hitler. In this he resembles Felixmueller. Its a
class issue. I agree that Hitler lacks polish. He is crude.
This partly explains his appeal. He is very good at taking
an abstract political concept and translating it in a simple
and non ambiguous way the average dope can figure
out. He uses the language of everyday speech. People
understand him when he speaks. He gets to the point.
He knows how to make a point. And once it is made
how to hammer it into you. He is very good at the
hammering of it into you. He hammers it into you over
and over. But this is effective. Its exhausting but
effective. He is not appealing to the von Trott types. His
appeal is to the mob and he exploits a mob technique.
Of all the things to be said about this man the one word
that does not apply is stupid. Also people feel he is
prepared to back the words up with action. Maybe he can
do something for Germany. We had a monarchy in 1914.
What happened then? Etc, etc.

We go round and round. This is why I refuse to discuss
politics. Its boring and I really dont care. But I like Trott
von Trott. He has visited the United States. He went to
New York and spent some time in the South where he
has relations. The South is strange. The country had a
civil war in 1860 between the north and southern states.
The issue was slavery. The south had these negro slaves.
They lost the war and had to give up the slaves. They
havent forgotten this. They are still pissed. I see their
point. Id love to have a slave.

We have a visiting artist--deChirico.

This is a treat. I enjoy this mans work. D created a new
genre--something called metafysica pittura--
metaphysical painting. There are certain elements that
identify a metaphysical painting. They occur in the city.
There is a deserted street with a few non descript
buildings or piece of architecture--a church, an arcade,
perhaps a monument. There are no people and nothing
to suggest the presence of. There is a strong feeling of
isolation, loneliness, angst. The feeling of angst is
overpowering. There is a slight distortion of perspective.
There are deep shadows and a unique character to the
light. The light suggests late afternoon--late Sunday
afternoon. There is present some enigmatic object in an
out/of/context situation. This can be food--usually an
artichoke. There is an enigmatic title.

So you have the deserted street with the monument and
the deep shadows and this feeling of profound angst and
the artichoke in the middle of the street and the
enigmatic title such as: the uncertainty of the poets.

What does all this mean?

This is why we have critics. You cant ask the painter. He
is the last person to provide an answer. The critic is the
one. The critic can piss away more time babbling on and
on in that idiotic way they have about the painting then it
took the painter to paint it. I despise these people--tho
there are some good ones Meir-Graf for example. Meir-
Graf at least has some taste. He likes the paintings of
Otto Dix.

These paintings of deChirico were a great success. Then
the war came along. The war had a huge affect on his
work. A new style appeared. He did a complete 180. One
day he was painting metafysica pittura and the next day
he was painting horses and gladiators and self/portraits.
And doing it in a style borrowed directly from the 17th
century the baroque fabuloso genre as brought to
perfection by Reubens, Fragonard, Tiepolo, etc.

No one could figure it out. The critics had a field day.
They said: from a genius to doing restaurant paintings!
He was hammered. It was brutal. But so be it. He
continued to paint horse and self portraits. In his last
show he painted 22 self portraits. He enjoys duding
himself up Hermann Goring style in these amazing
outfits.

My favorite is a full length portrait of D sporting this
Prince consort/ Sir Walter Raleigh type outfit--red satin
breeches and a frock coat that erupts with an explosion
of ruffles at the shirtfront and cuffs--and the silk hose
and the buckled pumps and the feathered headgear,
etc. There is a sword to go with. The only thing missing
is the horse. He strikes this ferocious pose--hand
gripping sword--awaiting the command to march forth
to defend the honor of the Crown and cover himself
with glory.

I love this painting. It is a masterpiece. It may be a
derivative style and the critics may object in their feeble
and pathetic way. But this man is a painter.

But here he is in Dresden. He travels with his mother. He
has never married. He is not homosexual. He likes
women. The woman who marries this man is going to
face major problems in the mother in law dept. I once
knew a painter who married a woman who fell in love
with his father.

D shows some slides and delivers a brief lecture followed
by some Q and A from the students.

Q: Baudelaire says art springs from humiliation. Do you
agree?

A: I never heard that one. I have no opinion. I dont
know if its humiliation or inspiration or desperation or
aggravation. I just get up the in the morning and work.
Painting is a way to kill time. This is how I see it.

Q: What if you paint a portrait of someone and they dont
like it?

A: A good question. The answer is: you are screwed. But
dont feel bad. Picasso also has this problem. He once
painted a portrait of Leo Stein Gertrude Steins brother.
Leo Stein didnt like it. He said: it doesnt look like me.
Picasso said: give it a few years.

Q: How do you know when a painting is finished.
A: A very good question. My answer is this: when you
proceed to improve the painting further and completely
fuck it up. But this is a risk you must take. Otherwise
you will never make progress.

I invite him for dinner. He arrives with his mother and
Wilma the photographer I always wanted to bang.
These two have become smitten with each other. They
make a cute pair. There is a perverse chemistry
operating here . Its the yin and the yang. He is passive
and she is a ballbuster.

The mother is a sweet creature. She dotes on him. This
is the only love worthy of the name: the love of a
mother for the child.

I do the cooking. I have made linguine with red clam
sauce and fried eggplant. For dessert a cassata--a
chocolate cake filled with ricotta cheese and candied fruit.

We eat and discuss my favorite subject: politics. This
time its Italian politics. We have Hitler, they have
Mussolini. The mother is a Fascist. She has met
Mussolini. D has painted Ciano--Mussolinis son in law.

The mother says: people dont know that Hitler has
modeled his career on Mussolini. He has had a great
influence on Hitler. (And Al Capone had a great influence
on Mussolini).

Hitler and Mussolini both share a strong antipathy for the
church. M would love to get rid of the church. Everything
he is trying to do the church undoes. He is ready to
string the pope up by the nuts. This is the only thing that
bothers her. She is a devout catholic.

But D himself is not political. He obliges these people
from time to time to secure the odd favor. Otherwise he
just wants to be left alone. He is more interested in
Wilma. They are billing and cooing and making goo/goo
eyes.

Tennis with Vera.

My game is improving. She confides in me. She trusts
me because I am happily married. This is true enough.
It doesnt prevent these women from making my dick
hard.

Vera has a problem. She is smart, beautiful and
independent. She cant find a boyfriend. Its slim pickings
out there. They are either unavailable--or if they are
available there is a good reason. Usually they are too
dumb. This is the one thing she cannot tolerate:
stupidity. Its a disease--like alcoholism.

A new teacher has joined the staff. His name is Beuys. I
know a little about him. He was in the war. He was a
pilot. He was shot down in Russia and rescued by
peasants. They put him on a sled and dragged him back
to the German lines. This was an amazing journey. He
was in bad shape. He had a broken back. The cold
was severe. They wrapped him in felt and covered him
with slabs of animal fat.

This experience exercised a profound influence on his
work. He abandoned painting and switched to sculpture.
He completed a series of abstract pieces in wood. But he
was haunted by his rescue at the hands of the russian
peasants. It was the fat. It was fat, fat, fat. He began
doing these fat sculptures. For his last show he placed on
display these large blocks of fat wrapped with electrical
wiring. There must be something in fat I have
overlooked.

I like this man. He is a decent soul. He is modest. He is
funny. He is well read. He has a preference for
philosophy. He has an emphatic view of modern art.
According to Beuys there are 3 men: Picasso, Cezanne
and Duchamp. When you have said Picasso, Cezanne and
Duchamp you have said it all.

He is married and has a child. He is political. He knows
Goring. He flew with him. He says there is a tendency to
underestimate Goring because he weighs 300 pounds
and enjoys getting duded up in these ridiculous outfits
but this is a mistake. You cross this man at your peril.
Underneath all the blubber and the hilarious Robin Hood
of Sherwood Forest outfits--the hip length boots and
codpieces and ruffled shirts the wigs, the rouge, the
lipstick, the nail polish and the jewelry , jewelry,
jewelry, etc and all the rest of it there is a stone killer.
He is ambitious, driven and ruthless. He is a gangster.
He has no political philosophy. He has allied himself with
Hitler not because he subscribes to the Nazi program
whatever this is -but because he craves power and he
believes in Hitler. He thinks Hitler can go all the way.

Hitler is here for a speech. He is campaigning with a
vengeance. He makes 3 speeches a day. He has a plane
at his disposal provided by Fritz Thyssen. This is a new
tactic. Normally the barnstorming is done by train. The
industrialists are beginning more and more to align
themselves with Hitler. This is an interesting
development since the Nazis are a socialist party
and by definition count the capitalists as mortal enemies.
They are mortal enemies until the need arises for money
to underwrite the next campaign. Then they are viewed
with less contempt. In this Hitler is no different. Its
politics. It doesnt change. Its lies and bullshit.

He drew a huge crowd 100,000. I did not attend. Tony
was there. Hitler spoke for 3 hours. He has three
speeches. The short, the medium, the long. 3 hours is
the medium version. It was the usual. The speeches dont
vary much. There isnt that much too say. The country is
in horrible shape period. This isnt news.

But the Nazis will be different. They are going to
straighten out this mess. Etc, etc.

Then he was gone. He flew in, made the speech, and
flew out.

The Nazis have picked up some seats. Not as many as
they hoped. The idea is to put together a coalition with
the social democrats and then apply pressure to
Hindenberg to name Hitler Chancellor.

It may yet happen. That would be something: from zero
to Chancellor in 13 years.

Hans is here for a visit. Its Hans, Eva, Hans jr, the
nanny and Hans brother. Hans is like Picasso. He must
have 5 people with him at all times.

The baby is sweet. Martha cannot keep her hands off this
child. Thank god she is pregnant. She is gradually
beginning to forgive Eva. Martha cant stay mad at
people. Plus its her sister.

In some bizarre way it all seems to have worked out.

Hans has some good stories. Hans always has good
stories. He has a new patient--Josef Goebbels. He is
treating Goebbels for the clap. Goebbels reputation as a
pussy hound is well known. And now that he has risen in
the hierarchy his activities in this area are on the climb
as well. This is an unlikely Don Juan. He is a runt with a
club foot. They say power is an aphrodisiac. He is
already married with 3 kids. This is a busy man. The real
marriage as in Gorings case is to Hitler.

I am in berlin. I want to see this Nolde show at the
Pinothek

The Nazis are in a rage. They are squealing like
pigs. There have been numerous demonstrations. Nolde
is the one artist guaranteed to send Hitler thru the roof.
And there is irony here because he is a stone Nazi. He
belongs to the party. He has tremendous admiration for
Hitler. He is also an anti Semite. And its a genuine
sentiment. He hates these people.

This man is a great painter. He favors a primitive style.
He has traveled widely in the south pacific--esp New
Guinea. He has been influenced by the people and their
art. Its a primitive people and a primitive art--crude,
spontaneous, intuitive. There is this lust for color. This is
what Nolde likes. It enchants him. These people just
paint like children. The canvases are aflame with color.
Nolde has taken his cue from all this and applied
something of his own--60 years of painting.

The palette is extraordinary. He makes Van Gogh look
anemic. How is it done? He commits unspeakable sins
here. But as he said to Meir Graff the critic: I put into
my paintings the colors I like. I leave it to them to get
along.

These are the exact qualities guaranteed to get a rise out
of the nazis: rude, crude, lewd and--above all--the
unforgivable act of spontaneity and improvisation.

In my youth I also favored an alla prima style. But now I
am too anal.

Beuys said a private showing of the Nolde exhibit had
been arranged for Hitler. Hitlers comment was: "Its a
shame something cant be done about these people".

Here the diaries break off. Dix and Martha returned to
Dresden. He resumed teaching. Politically the situation in
Germany remained chaotic. There had been 9
governments in 12 years. The Nazis by this time were a
major party. They were organized. They had money,
they were brilliantly led. But there was no power. They
made grab after grab and each time fell short. Hitler was
frustrated.

A fresh round of elections was schedule;ed for 1932.
Hitler felt the nazis must prevail at this time. The
situation was becoming stale. A plane was put at his
disposal by Fritz Thyssen. It was the first time a
political campaign had been waged in this way. Hitler
campaigned with a vengeance. It was a bitter fight.
There were some violent encounters between the
communists and the nazis.

But nothing had changed. It was another standoff.
The Nazis picked up a few seats but remained short of a
majority. Hitler could not be elected chancellor on this
basis. Yet something had to be done. The country could
not continue to be governed in this haphazard and
confused way. A decision had to be made.

The president of germany was Hindenberg. He was a
war hero. But the war had occurred in 1870 -- the
franco/prussian war. He was 90 and in fading health. He
despised Hitler. It was a class issue. Hitler was rabble.
But the alternatives were in short supply.

Advising Hindenburg was von Papen the residing
chancellor. It was the opinion of von Papen and others
that Hitler was the logical choice. It was still a coalition
government and in this way the Nazis could be kept
under control and major abuses of power could be
minimized.

So it was done. Von Papen petitioned Hindenberg to
make this appointment and the old man caved in.

This was a phenomenon: from corporal to chancellor in
15 years.

Hitler had an interest in the arts. He considered himself
an artist. It had nothing to do with the attempts in
painting and architecture he dabbled in as a youth. He
was an artist in a more historic or heroic sense. He was a
messiah type. He was the artist of artists.

The arts had a specific role to play in the new regime: to
boost morale. It was all spelled out during a party rally
in Nuremberg in 1934.

A new ministry was created to enforce this doctrine. It
operated within the office of the propaganda ministry
supervised by Goebbels.

The first signals occurred in 1929. Wilhelm Frick was
elected to the Reichstag and named minister of the
interior. Frick was a nazi. He issued a series of directives
designed to weed out and otherwise harass painters in
such as Nolde, Beckmann, Kokoshka and Dix whose
work presented a none too subtle assault upon the Nazi
style. What was the Nazi style? It was the style favored
by Hitler.

We have a new director.

His name is Mueller. This is unwelcome news. His
reputation precedes him. He is a stone Nazi. What has
become of Herr Troost? Herr Troost has been asked to
retire. The Nazis want some new blood. Someone whose
artistic views are more in tune with their own and a non
reluctance to fire people. They want an art cop. And in
Herr Mueller they have found their man. This is the same
Mueller who formerly worked for Wilhelm Frick in
Weimar and single/handedly had the entire faculty of the
Bauhaus 29 teachers including Gropius himself removed.

Yesterday Mueller arrived. This is a master race type
who actually looks the part. He is tall and blond with a
blinding set of choppers. These teeth could be used as
navigational aids. I could do something with these
critters.

He arrived yesterday and today we got our first speech.
You have to say one thing about these people: they dont
waste time. In the seven years I worked for Herr Troost
I can recall him giving one speech. The subject was art
supplies. He said we were spending too much money on
turps and vine charcoal.

Herr Mueller's speech was in a different vein. The subject
was attitude. It was his view that the artist is not outside
society. He is a part of society. He has a specific role to
play and certain responsibilities to bear.

What is this role? He is a sort of cheerleader. His job is
to boost morale. People are miserable enough. They
dont need their faces pushed into the muck any further.
There is a new mood in Germany. It is mood of hope,
pride, self respect and optimism. The artist can
contribute to tall this. He can help sustain this mood and
even beef it up in some measure. The artist can perk the
people up, get them into the groove and eager to jump
in and contribute something of their own. etc, etc. He
went on in this vein. He threw in a remark about the
importance of candor and the encouraging of a
"dialogue" between the administration and the faculty. I
love it when the word "dialogue" appears in a Nazi
speech. That is like a cockroach having a dialogue with
the heel of your shoe.

By this time I had heard enough. This kind of thinking
has always been with us. The difference is that now it is
policy. Its reality. It deals with things like having a job
and making the rent and putting food on the table.

The writing was on the wall. I was gone. I didnt have a
prayer. It would be me, Beuys, Wilma and some others.
Tony would survive. He is a master of illusion. He can
produce new German art or old German art or any kind
of German art in between.

Today I cleaned out my office.

Its the end of an era. No more swimming, tennis, volley
ball. No more birthday parties with presents for the
teacher. No more food cooked by the mothers. My
students have been coming by. They bring gifts, food,
paintings.

I will miss these people. They become your family. We
had laffs. They are drawing up a petition. Meanwhile its
as beuys said: now we are all jews

home

vera
(marie vassiltchikov)

the conquest of
philosophy

next month: painting albert speer

billy wilder

archives

*installment 12: vera, trott, deChirico

adam trott