Profession: Woman Artist
"I'd like to blur the fixed boundaries..." A
Pionier of Photomontage: Hannah Höch
Hardly any other expressive
technique is more frequently associated with the Dada movement than photomontage.
Born out of an aversion to art and artists and hinting at the construed
in their own works, the Dadaists implemented them to call the bourgeois
notion of the “artist genius” into question. Along with painting and drawing,
Hannah Höch (1889–1978) consistently used and continued to develop this
technique in her work. She became famous side by side with Raoul Hausmann
– and this despite the fact that the Berlin Dada movement was exclusively
dominated by men. In the third part of our series “Profession: Woman Artist,”
Maria Morais reviews the mood of breakthrough imbuing the art of
the nineteen-twenties.
The question as to whether Raoul
Hausmann or Hannah
Höch was the first to discover the photomontage as an artistic means
of expression for the Dada
movement has never been entirely resolved. Indeed, the memories of this
crucial moment turn out to be rather divergent. In his retrospective work
“Am Anfang war Dada” (In the Beginning Was Dada), which he completed in
1970, Hausmann wrote: “On the occasion of a holiday at the Baltic Sea (…)
I invented the photomontage (…) It was like a flash: one could make pictures
– I immediately saw this – entirely comprised of cut-up photographs.”

 Hannah Höch, Bürgerliches Brautpaar, Collage, 1919
On
vacation together in the Baltic town of Heidebrink in 1918, they came up
with the same idea together. 40 years later – their paths had long since
separated – Höch recalled: “This systematic approach towards working with
photographic material began after seeing an oil print hanging on the wall
of a fisher’s hut. We were amused by it; it depicted five soldiers standing
in five different uniforms, worked in between the magnificent emblems of
the empire – and with the head of the fisher’s son glued onto each, but
photographed only once. This naive kitsch was a memento of the son’s tenure
as a soldier, and used to hang in many German parlors. It prompted Hausmann
to take the idea of trying something with photographs and elaborate it
further.” Even in her old age, Höch’s modesty and lack of envy left the
glory of discovery to her former lover. On the other hand, things were
quite different for Hausmann: he merely named Hannah Höch in connection
with other Dada artist friends such as George
Grosz, Johannes
Baader, and John
Heartfield as co-founders of the term that came to describe the new
adhesive technique.

 Hannah Höch und Raoul Hausmann auf der Dada-Messe in Berlin, 1920
It was love at first sight. They met for the
first time in the spring of 1915. In an emphatic poem entitled “Zwei Tage
erinnere ich” (I Remember Two Days) that Hausmann gave Hannah Höch for
her 26th birthday, he described his fateful encounter with the young student
on April 28 in the teaching facilities of the Kunstgewerbemuseum in Berlin,
as well as their romantic excursion to Wannsee the following July: “It
was the day I took your bosom into my hands for first time – full of fear
and trembling, yet knowingly and willfully. Our entire fate depends on
these two days, as different as they are.” Hannah Höch was wildly happy
– and without a clue. Reality soon caught up with her: Hausmann had kept
it a secret that he’d already been married for some time and was the father
of an eight year-old daughter. Although Höch found the situation untenable,
and traveled to her parents in Gotha after this fact was revealed, Hausmann
wrote her countless letters, finally succeeding in keeping the contact
alive. This turbulent relationship, however, accompanied as it was by constant
argument and repeated separation, was to lead to the most artistically
fertile years in the lives of both artists.
In 1916, the writer
Hugo
Ball founded the Cabaret Voltaire in Zurich as a forum for his invention,
Dada. Together with the dancer Emmy
Hennings, Tristan
Tzara, Hans
Arp, Marcel
Janco, and Richard
Huelsenbeck, Ball put on spectacular Dada evenings. The novelty lie
in the totality of the program: with dance, song, readings, cabaret, installations,
and costumes, various forms of expression were combined, the familiar incorporated
and imbued with a radicalism that rendered it serviceable. The performances
were loud, accompanied by atonal music and noise that both enlivened and
disturbed the audience.

 Hans Arp, Constellation, 1922, Collage auf Karton Sammlung Deutsche Bank
In 1918, Huelsenbeck brought Dada to Berlin,
where he founded the “Club Dada” and became the chief author of the Dadaist
manifesto. Various groups were formed. One of them consisted of Heartfield,
Grosz, Hausmann, and Wieland
Herzfelde; it quickly attracted attention. 1918 and 1919 became the
most successful Dada years. Hannah Höch dedicated herself intensively to
photomontage during this time. The works she produced evince a masterful
perfection, and her influence on the art of the Berlin Dada movement goes
uncontested today. The men’s inner circle of initiates, however, only seldom
granted her guest appearances. She was only actively present at a “spectacle”
once: On April 30, 1919, Hannah was the only woman to take part in a Dada
performance in the Berlin gallery I.B. Neumann, armed with “Pot Covers
and Baby Rattle” and kicking up a racket. Her artistic talent finally became
evident at the famous “First International Dada Fair” in June of 1920,
in which all Berlin Dadaists took part. Along with those named above, Johannes
Baader, the architect Mies
van der Rohe, Rudolf
Schlichter, and Otto Schmalhausen, who went by the name of OZ, took
part.
Here, for the first time, Hanna Höch showed her large work
Cut
With a Kitchen Knife Through Germany’s Last Weimar Beerbelly Cultural Epoch,
which today counts among the incunabula of the medium.
She had already
been working since 1916 in the Ullstein Publishing House designing patterns
for die cuts and other handwork for various magazines. The work not only
provided her with a basic income; Höch acquired the sense of precision
and detail here that would come to characterize her photomontage works.
Her images reveal a subtle view of the social constitution of the time.
In a barely noticeable way, her criticism of prevailing conditions points
to the changing image of women in the Weimar Republic. In Cut With a
Kitchen Knife Dada…, Höch adds a map of Europe to the bottom right
hand corner of a picture, next to the cut-out heads of Greta Garbo and
Käthe Kollwitz;
in it, the countries are marked which had finally legislated women’s right
to vote.

 George Grosz, Der Agitator, 1920, Tusche auf Bütten Sammlung Deutsche Bank
|
In contrast, the montages and collages of the Dada circle
are marked by an offensive propagandistic tenor which pits itself against
the “Spirit of Weimar” from the very beginning: “We want to laugh, laugh
and do what our instincts tell us to. We don’t want democracy, liberality,
we despise the cothurn of mental consumerism, (…) We live in insecurity,
we don’t want the value and meaning that flatter the bourgeoisie – We want
unworthiness and nonsense! We’re outraged by the obligations of Potsdam
Weimar (…) We want to create everything ourselves – our own new world!”
– as Hausmann proclaimed in one of his countless pamphlets.

 Kurt Schwitters, Pariser Frühling, 1936 öl auf Holz Sammlung Deutsche Bank
|
|

 Max Ernst, Ich bin wie eine Eiche..., 1931 Bleistift, Gouache, Frottage u. Collage auf Karton Sammlung Deutsche Bank
|
Perhaps
it was her own tendency towards reserved irony and a quieter tone that
relegated Höch to the role of the observing chronicler in the beacon of
the Berlin Dadaists. In any case, it hardly comes as a surprise that she
developed an intense friendship with Kurt
Schwitters from Hanover, whose works exerted a deep influence on her
art, as did the works of Max
Ernst.
Kurt Schwitters’ one-man Dada movement was received
skeptically by the Berlin circle. His involvement with Dada seemed too
petty bourgeois, too much like that of a lone wolf in comparison to the
open political propaganda of the Dada manifesto. As a consequence, Schwitters
renamed his artistic production “Merz” after a scrap of found newspaper
originally containing the German word “Kommerz ” or “commerce.” For a time,
Hannah Höch became involved in the Merzbau
“Cathedral of Erotic Misery” which Schwitters began in 1923. Here, certainly,
she could also let her own experiences and personal pain of the past seven
years enter in: without warning, Hausmann had abandoned her, flinging himself
into his new love for the painter Hedwig Mankiewitz. Just how hard the
separation must have been for Höch is reflected by Schwitters’ description
of the relationship between the two: “Whenever she needs him, she’s there
for him.”
Years of intense work followed. The series of photomontages
entitled “Ethnographic Museum” arose, followed by numerous group exhibitions
at home and abroad that took her to Paris and Holland. Here, in 1926, she
met and grew to love the Dutch woman writer Til
Brugmann. The relationship, scandalous as it was for the time, sharpened
her eye to the allocation of male and female roles. The works of this time
examine questions of identity, culture, and subjectivity. In literally
dismantling and deconstructing racism, sexism, and politics in her images,
she revealed discrepancies between the individual and the prevailing social
image of self.

 Hannah Höch und Til Brugmann, Berlin 1931
|
|

 Hannah Höch Denkmal II: Eitelkeit, Collage, 1926
|
In 1929, Höch showed her works in a one-person exhibition
for the first time. She wrote: “I’d like to blur the fixed boundaries we
humans, in our self-assurance, tend to draw around everything within our
reach. I paint images in which I attempt to make this palpable, visible.
I’d like to show that small can be large and that large is also small,
that it’s only the perspective from which we judge things that changes,
that every concept loses its validity.” The same year, she returned to
Berlin with Til Brugmann. The contact to her former partner was severed,
yet as an artist she was in demand as never before.

 Hannah Höch, Die Dompteuse, Fotomontage, 1930
The radical
break occurred in 1933, when the Hitler regime seized power. Hannah Höch
was defamed as a “Cultural Bolshevist” in 1934 and prohibited from exhibiting
her work. The time continued to extract its price: in 1935, she separated
from Brugmann.
Although she married the considerably younger pianist
Dr. Kurt Matthies in 1938, whom she divorced in 1944, Hannah Höch retreated
into an “inner emigration.” Entirely withdrawn, isolated, and forgotten,
she survived the Nazi regime in her house in Heiligensee, Berlin. While
subsiding at the poverty level, she saved the Dada documents she’d collected
and the works of her former artist friends, burying them in numerous boxes
in her garden.
During the fifties, Dadaism underwent a brief Renaissance.
Yet nothing was the same as before. Hannah Höch drew the following comparison:
“In spite of it all, we’re trying to find a place in art again – to teach
young people, who are really terribly primitive and unknowing, to think
freely and independently (…) The situation today is very different than
it was following the First World War, when we formulated goals for ourselves,
even before the end of the war and then immediately afterwards, goals that
had their founding in pacifist ideas. Back then, the freedom we’d won after
the end of the war set a huge amount of activity [free] that we’d been
holding back with considerable difficulty. After this second war, young
people are only now beginning to free themselves from lethargy, dullness,
deceit, or at the very most desperation.”
It was to take another
twenty years until the time once again became ripe for these pacifist ideas.
Hannah Höch must have followed the radical social movements of the late
sixties with satisfaction.

 Hannah Höch, farbige Komposition (Kopf), 1975 Offsetlithographie auf leichtem Karton Sammlung Deutsche Bank
Although she was accepted as a member
of Berlin’s Akademie der Künste
in 1965, she was never to attain personal prosperity, despite the rediscovery
of her work towards the end of her life.
In 1978, in the most modest
of circumstances, Hannah Höch died in Berlin.
Translation: Andrea Scrima
chosen literature: Karoline Hille, Raoul Hausmann und Hannah Höch - Eine Berliner Dada-Geschichte, Rowolt Verlag, Berlin 2000.
Jula Dech/Ellen Maurer (Hrsg.), Da-da zwischen Reden zu Hannah Höch, Orlanda Frauenverlag, Berlin 1991.
copyrights for pictures:
Abb. 1 and 7-9: Jula Dech/Ellen Maurer (Hrsg.), Da-da zwischen Reden zu Hannah Höch, Berlin 1991.
Abb. 2: Karoline Hille, Raoul Hausmann und Hannah Höch - Eine Berliner Dada-Geschichte, Berlin 2000.
Abb. 3-6 and 10: Archiv der Sammlung Deutsche Bank.
© Berlinische Galerie, Berlin
© VG Bild-Kunst, Bonn
|