Haus der Kunst

Yesterday I spent over two and a half hours one of Munich's modern art museums, Haus der Kunst. The atmosphere of the building is strange in that it was used by Hitler to display "proper" art. The classical style and notions of architectural purity can be seen in the massive doorways, Roman columns and marble floors. I find it to be simultaneously victorious and something staggering that on the very same walls that once held the art that Hitler held dear now display an enormous abstract painting Wassily Kandinsky, the artist whose style he considered degenerate, or a large screen projection of Indonesian Opera, a culture that Hitler would have found evolutionarily inferior.

I found most appealing exhibit to be the main collection, which had works dating from the late 1800s to 2007 and was called “Spuren des Geistigen.” This title can be translated in countless ways, although one possibility is “Vestiges of Spirit.” If this version does not suit you, “traces” or “tracks” are also applicable, and “geistig” can also refer to something that is mental or intellectual. But the title was taken from Kandinsky writing on the essence of art and the spiritual. The aforementioned Kandinsky painting was, of course, glorious, and the section with artwork that examined and celebrated the profanation of religious icons was also very interesting. The three artists I had not yet discovered yet whose work I connected with the most were:

Mary Wigman, dancer and choreographer

André Masson, painter

Isaac Abrams, painter

The information about the artwork and exhibition themes was very insightful and well written. I was so grateful to understand the German and found it amusing that was able to decode the title quickly when the placard was originally in French and translated underneath in German, as the French was similar to Spanish and often English, and the German I could typically decipher.

One of the installations in the main exhibit was very well done in that it looked quite simple but was in fact completely geometrically sound. There were hundreds, or perhaps one or two thousand small blue, black yellow or red wooden die spread about the floor in a circle. The most impressive and immediate point of observation was that the circle was a perfect sphere, except for a small section that flirted with the side of the wall. A longer appreciation then informed me that there were several clusters of die, all spreading out from one center point or the edge of the circle.

Robert Filliou, Eins. Un. One…

Upstairs in the Haus der Kunst held an exhibit called “Brilliantfeuerwerk” (Brilliant Fireworks) that has been advertised all over Munich. I found it partially innovative and partially unsettling, as pop art and serious 19th century oil paintings stood next to one another, silently yet aggressively mocking one another and pointing out artistic flaws. I feel that the way art is presented and arranged in a museum is crucial to the message that one can receive and any thoughts or conclusions that can be drawn. That said, “Brilliantfeuerwerk,” while trying to appreciate and rejoice in the fact that several disparate styles can be thrust together to enhance that stylistic gap, resulted in making me intrigued but nauseous. It was humorous, though, to see two shockingly huge Warhol prints illustrating his impression of Munich and of a German magazine. These were large even by Warhol standards, which I found absurd and impressive. Of course, the Munich one had the standard iconic images, with the Frauenkirche and beer mugs.

In the middle of the exhibit, between two rooms of art that had absolutely no stylistic or chronological connection (though I suppose that was the point, of course), was a video that pieced together clips of phone conversations from American films ranging from the 1940s to the 1990s. This was very entertaining and clever; two characteristics that were probably enhanced by the fact that this work made complete sense alone and had a sense of coherency.

The last exhibit I saw was “Opera Jawa,” which displayed artifacts and photos from Java, Indonesia, as well as a film of an elaborate and beautiful opera created by performers in Java. The end product was fascinating, because the closest musical and theatrical comparison I could make was with some of the more tasteful Bollywood films. But this was so different and so much its own thing. The singing was lovely and the addition of German subtitles gave the opera the feeling of an intense bicultural immersion. The dancing, which I saw as somewhat similar to Cambodian dance as far as wrist and hand movements, was both aggressive and delicate and the themes were, while not universally applicable, still very easy to understand and relate to.

So, Haus der Kunst is definitely recommended if you ever find yourself in Munich and are looking for a remarkable, thought-provoking and exhausting experience.