| writings: the diaries of otto dix |
| We are back in Berlin. We are living in Marthas house. Martha and I live upstairs and Hans works downstairs. At nite he goes home to Eva. Hans jr divides his time equally between us and Hans and Eva. The divorce settlement was handled in this way. Martha kept the rugs and some of the furniture. This was resolved amicably enough. The paintings were more of a problem. The custody of the children was nothing. The battle occurred over the paintings--esp the Kokoshka. They fought tooth and nail over this one. Martha prevailed. She was obliged to cough up in return a Beckmann and a small Matisse charcoal. I personally favored the Matisse. Martha has gone to work. Her boss is Albert Speer--Hitlers architect. I think this is called irony. I lost my job because of these people. We discussed the situation. It was a short conversation. You go where the work is. She likes this job. The people are nice. Speer is a decent sort. They are busy, busy, busy. There is a major remodel of the Chancellery and also a palace remodel for Goring. When the Nazis took over the government the burning issue was who would live where. Hitler moved into the Chancellery and also acquired a summer resort in the mountains near Bergtesgaden. Goebbels took over the Reichstag Palace and bought a summer estate on an island in the Wannsee district. And Goring chose the Air Ministry bldg. This building even by Nazi standards is excessive. It takes up an entire block. And it is a large block. On the roof is a park with trees, tennis courts, a swimming pool. There are several models of interior rooms including the lobby--if this is the word. Its 7500 sq meters of floor space. The lobby features a staircase. Goring has a staircase theory. The success or esteem of a man is to be measured by the size of his staircase. You have the staircase at the Paris Opera, the staircase at the Hermitage museum in Leningrad and the staircase of the king of England at Buckingham Palace. And now you have the staircase of Gorings air ministry--the granddaddy of all staircases. Its actually a double staircase one flanking the room on either side that ascend zig/zag fashion back and forth until they join at the top in a balcony that overlooks the lobby 4 floors below. My question is this: who is going to climb this beast? That is why we have elevators. And there is an elevator.But why take an elevator when you can drop dead by climbing this staircase. Now comes the best part. The building was a double remodel. The first time the architect was a man called Strasser , a decent sort with a taste similar to Goring--what Beuys likes to call Rococo Loco. So it was done this way to enormous cost. Goring was thrilled. He invited Hitler over for a tour. Hitler himself was no stranger to ornament. But he had lately fallen under the influence of Paul Troost. a colleague of Gropius and was beginning to appreciate the merits of restraint and a general streamlining of detail. He complimented Goring on his hideous digs but later dropped a remark in private indicating his true feelings. These comments found their way back to Goring. He was devastated. He got on the phone to Speer. You must come here at once! Speer hurried over. Goring: I want it done over-- all of it! I cant bear the sight. Its too dark, busy, cluttered! Its a mess! It must be cleaned up. I want it simple. And light! I must have light! I want light, light, light! I don’t get it. Here is a man who can blithely carry out the murder of Ernst Rohm and 2 or 3 hundred others without blinking an eye--but if Hitler criticizes the color of his wall paper he is pissing in his pants. They are all like this. Marthas job is to co ordinate the interior design on these projects. Basically she spends her time shopping. It is the perfect job for her. I am getting some good gossip. These people seem to spend most of their time trying to kill each other off. There is ruthless maneuvering for position. The object is to get tight with Hitler-- and to stay tight. Its like the tote at the race track. There is an odds system at work that is in constant flux. First this one is up and that one is down and then vice versa. There are favorites and long shots. There are those that favor a fast track and others who are mudders. And its all done with Hitlers blessing. He has masterminded this situation and designed it to function in this exact way. The machinery of the party is neatly divided into these autonomous groups that report directly to him and are kept in rigid isolation--the one from the other. The result is an inefficient and wasteful duplication of efforts and overlapping of duties. But so be it. Efficiency and saving money isnt the point. The point is power. By keeping these people at each others throats the formation of alliances and cliques is minimized and the threat to his own position neutralized. The man is a politician. So the routine is this: Martha works and I stay at home and paint and take care of the baby. We also have a housekeeper--a young girl--an art student. The baby is doing well. I adore this child. I am a good father. In some ways I am better than Martha. She admits this. I like changing diapers. Everyone should change a diaper once in their life. They have this new throw away diaper they have come up with that eliminates the chore of washing. Its on with the new and throw out the old. Its fabulous! We need more of this kind of thinking. I take the baby for the stroll in the park. In doing this I have discovered the perfect way to meet women. It is unbelievable. I cannot walk 15 feet without having to stop for a woman who insists on fondling the child. I should have thought of this one as a bachelor. Maybe I should start a baby rental business. Lunch with Mother Ey. Its been a while. She is the same. A little discouraged about the current situation. The heat is on and the temperature increases every day. For her last show she had to hire security because she received a tip that thugs were being sent around to smash the place up. This has already happened to Fletcheim. He is moving to London. She is on the list. The heat is on and getting hotter and the list grows at a similar rate. She is toying with the idea of moving to France. She just got back from Paris. She saw Picasso. How is Picasso? He is the same. He paints and argues with women. He has a new child with this Marie Therese woman. He still has the wife who continues to harass him. And there is the usual parade of chippies that come and go. Mother Ey met a woman named Alice Toklas. Alice Toklas is a lesbian. She is the lover of Gertrude Stein. She is a sweet creature and a fabulous cook. Gertrude Stein has written a book called The Autobiography of Alice Toklas. In this book Gertrude Stein pretends to be Alice Toklas writing about Gertrude Stein. But it is Gertrude Stein writing about Gertrude Stein. A clever device I think. Martha has read this book. She liked it. I want to write an autobiography. If I cant get people to buy my paintings I may as well write a book no one wants to read. I have some work. I am painting Marthas boss--Albert Speer. This was Speers idea. He knows we are struggling these days. This is a mildly risky proposition for him considering the Nazi attitude towards my work. I have been sketching him at his house and I return to the studio to paint. This is a man going places. He is 29. He began doing small remodel jobs for the Nazis. This led to bigger remodel jobs and then he was given an assignment do organize and design the lighting and staging for the 1934 party rally at Nuremberg that was a huge success. Now he is tight with Hitler. Hitler started out to be an architect. It remains his passion. Hitlers obsession isnt politics; its architecture. He met Speer and took an interest in him. Now he has him redesigning the chancellery and drawing up plans for the rebuilding of Berlin. Hitler doesnt like Berlin. Its too small time. The scale needs to be revised upward and there are too many references to the monarchy which fails to properly reflect the spirit of the new regime. He wants a new city with a new name: Germania. This is a massive project. The cost is in the billions of marks. Speer has plunged ahead and the plans are flying. The centerpiece of this project is a domed hall 7 times the size of St Peters Cathedral in Rome. It will seat 400,000. Is this why we voted this government into office: so they could build gigantic stadia for Hitler to give speeches to 400,000 people? Where is the money for all this to come from? Speer had the same question. Hitler said this wasnt Speers problem. The money would be there. What a client! I am working on the Speer painting. I have decided to do a group portrait that includes the entire family. Speer, the wife, the two kids. I am throwing the two kids in gratis. There is a third on the way. This is his problem. He has a family that he is never home to enjoy. His wife is constantly harping on this one. Before he met Hitler he had no work and all this time to spend at home. Now he works 16 hours a day. But when you are an architect and Hitler invites you to rebuild the city of Berlin are you supposed to decline this proposal by citing a harping wife? At least she can look at the painting and see the family together in this way. Sketching Marguerite Speer. The husband is working. So I draw the wife. We have a long chat. I like this woman--who finds herself leading a much different life than she could have predicted. She has a beautiful house and beautiful children and money to burn and a husband who is never home. We discuss Hitler. She has never met Hitler. Her husband prefers not to socialize with party types. In this way he avoids being associated with this or that clique. On the other hand he meets regularly with Hitler and because the relationship is non/political he has become an intimate. He is closer to Hitler in many ways than the others. But one thing is the same: he has been seduced by this man as they all have. She shares my fatigue with this subject: Hitler. She prefers to speak of the children. Today I met Adam Trott. I was out with the baby and there he was. We went for coffee. He is living in Berlin. He has a job translating insurance documents for some British company. He is still thrashing with the Ph D. He says this is a project that is beginning to resemble the construction of Il Duomo--a cathedral in Milan begun in 1564 and still awaiting completion. He is married and has a child. We discuss fatherhood. He also enjoys changing diapers. Vera is fine. He stays in touch. She is living in Frankfurt with her sister. She is still painting. She is studying with Beckmann. Beckmann has his problems. He is also on the list. At the top is Nolde, followed by Kirchner, Beckmann and myself. Well, I am in good company. We chat about this and that. Naturally there is talk of Hitler. This is a subject I am heartily sick of. But there is nothing to be done. It cannot be avoided. Its like not talking about the weather. Sooner or later you must speak of Hitler. This is all the work of Goebbels. Goebbels is a dedicated man. He has a mission. He is out to create a myth. The propaganda machine is going full blast. They are relentless in this. There is no escape. Its in the press, on the radio, newsreels, it comes at you from speakers on street corners. There is no relief. Its Hitler, Hitler, Hitler. He is not even Hitler. There is a new expression: der Fuehrer. Its a metamorphosis. In this metamorphosis Nazism is being converted from a political movement into a religion. And Hitler is gradually or maybe not so gradually transforming himself into an omniscient figure. He is becoming God. Goebbels believes this. He believes Hitler is God. None of this has made a dent with Trott. He remains convinced these people are evil. They are gangsters. I like Trott. The only thing I dont like is that he is a Christian. These people can get on your nerves. They are like vegetarians. Now that they have stopped eating meat everyone should stop eating meat. With me these people are barking up the wrong tree. I am no revolutionary. And if I were where is the revolution? Ernst Roehm also thought he saw one. Revolutions are started by people who cant feed their children. We dont have that problem in Germany. Germany is a country in which you can be so depressed about losing your job that you gain 20 kilos. My only beef with Hitler is that he doesnt like my paintings. Mother Ey has moved to Paris. Yesterday there was a letter. Dear Otto: I am nearly settled. I have found a wonderful space for the Gallery on Rue Jacob near the Luxembourg Garden. Its perfect. I have also leased an apt nearby. All I need is to sell some paintings. I am spending a fortune getting this gallery rolling. The rent on the space alone is 22,000 marks. But I had to have this space! I want to give you a show. I think your work would sell here. I am busy making contacts and meeting other dealers, painters collectors and so forth. The usual. I am trying to figure a way to land Picasso. This is my fantasy. He is still with Kanweiler. You have to give Kanweiler credit here. He has handled Picasso brilliantly. He has never organized a show. Its all done over lunch. They have both become millionaires. I have met a man named Rene Gimpel--a fellow dealer. He specializes in the impressionists and Post/impressionists--Monet, Gauguin, Passer, etc so he is little out of touch with current trends. Speaking of which have you heard of Herr Mendelssohn--this new one? He beats live animals to death. He is German - naturally. On this edifying note I will close for now. My best to you and love to your wife. Joanna Martha pregnant. I cant believe we are having another. They say you aren’t a parent until you have two. I need to sell some paintings. I have a hobby. Every day I play billiards. Buys is the culprit here. We met for coffee one day and he was on his way to play and I tagged along. I have a small talent for the game. I played as a youth and from time to time in the army. But I am not in Buys league. He is an accomplished player. He enters tournaments. Billiards is an obsession with him. Now its an obsession with me. We started out playing once or twice a week, then it was 3 or 4 times a week, now it is every day. It has this obsessive quality to it. Its a dangerous game. If Decamp hadn’t discovered chess he would play billiards. There is something fundamental about it. There is music, pussy, food and billiards. We play pocket billiards not to be confused with the three cushion game. We play straight pool to 100 points. He spots me 50 points and still wins by 20 or 30. This is a good deal for Buys. We split the time and he takes 95% of the shots. We play at the Falderal. Its on Zurichstrasse in the market district. This is what a pool hall should be. Its a warehouse type space with a low ceiling. Its dark, cool, quiet. The smell is of beer and cigars. There are a dozen pocket billiard tables, some three cushion and snooker. Snooker is a great game. Its played on a vast table with a smaller ball and tiny pockets with rounded off corners that add an unpredictable element. We shoot an occasional game of snooker to sharpen the eye. We play and drink beer. You have to drink beer when you shoot pool. There are the usual good for nothing types loitering about killing time. They are killing major time. They are not exactly bums. I take that back. There is the occasional woman who becomes interested. But its not a sport for women. I dont know why. Perhaps its the idea of bending over and sticking that big ass in the air that offends them in some way. The owner is Herr Klabber. There is a good story here. Herr Klabber was in the war. He suffered a hand injury to his shooting hand. His future as a player was threatened. Certain ligaments had been severely shredded to threaten his future as a player. Surgery could be performed but in a limited way. The fingers would be locked into position in a permanent way. He had a choice: hold a fork, operate a pencil or aim a cue stick. He chose the cue stick. So it goes. The word is practice. In painting you must paint, paint, paint,. In pool you must play, play, play. So this we do. Its billiards, billiards, billiards. Its becoming an issue with the wives. |
albert speer and
marguerite--age 19
marguerite--age 19
| next month: meeting henry miller |
billy wilder
| *installment 13: painting albert speer |
model of the great hall
speer with hitler
model of lobby
featuring staircase
featuring staircase