Favorite Things Thursday: Hodler’s Die Lebensmüden

It’s that time again, time to look at more of the Neue Pinakothek’s collection. Today is a little different though because it is a painting I actually like, not just a painting I like making fun of. It is called Die Lebensmüden. It is usually referred to in English as “Tired of Life”, but when you plug it into Google translate it also gives the translation of “The Disillusioned”. Never one to argue with Google (they know too much about me), I think this title is also fitting. The title, “How Sue Felt the Wednesday after Fasching,” would also have been appropriate.

Photo: pinakothek.de

It was painted in 1892 by Ferdinand Holder. According to Wikipedia he is one of the best-known Swiss painters of the 19th century, which to me means practically nothing. (Switzerland, I kid because I love…other countries besides yours). He also seems to have been a ladies man/angel of death.

Evidence:

1. Father and two brothers died of TB

2. Mother then died of TB

3. All his remaining siblings died of TB

4. Mistress died of cancer. This was the woman he was with while he was married to he second wife.

 

Helloooo, Ladies 😉

Reasons to love him:

1. His first wife was named Bertha and his second named Berthe. Smart thinking, Ferdy! No chance of accidentally calling second wife by first wife’s name.

2. His son founded the World Esperanto Association. Who among us when studying a foreign language has not wanted to create a perfect language instead of the messes that we have to learn.

3. This painting.

Favorite Things Thursday: Böcklin’s “Playing in the Waves”

Does it seem as if my favorite things more and more often are strange paintings in the Neue Pinakothek?  I can hardly be blamed for this. Most of these paintings are odd, funny, or just plain awful, unlike those in the Alte Pinakothek.  Also unlike the paintings in the AP, most of which I know about specifically or can fit into my general understanding of art history, those in the NP are by artists with whom I am completely unfamiliar or about whom I am rather apathetic. (That is when I don’t actively loath them. Gauguin, I am looking at you, punk!)  This is great, because I am forced to do some very extensive research and learn something new–but only once a week.

Perhaps one of the most disturbing paintings in the NP’s collection is the painting entitled “Im Spiel der Wellen” by the nineteenth-century Swiss Symbolist painter Arnold Böcklin.

Photo: http://www.pinakothek.de

What is it about this painting that I find so jarring? Is it the overly scaly merman-thing? No. Is it the distressed look on the blonde’s face, while all the others frolic? No. Is it her bangs? Yes!

Somehow I cannot wrap my brain around a pseudo-mythological creatures scene in which the central figure is sporting bangs (that is fringe to you Brits or der Pony to you Germans). [Aside: I have never before realized how stupid all these names are]. The fact that she looks like a Finnish friend of mine does not help.

According to the website of the museum,  a personal experience was the impetus for Böcklin’s rather odd fantasy painting.  Apparently, Böcklin was on vacation with the German marine biologist Anton Dohrn and they went for a dip off the coast of Naples. At one point Dohrn went for a long underwater swim and popped up amongst a group of women who were rather startled by his sudden appearance.

Still none of this really seems explain this painting, until you see a picture of Dohrn.

Now I get it!

Apparently Böcklin was quite  influential. According to a reliable source, he inspired Surrealists like Dali and de Chirico as well as composers, such as Rachmaninoff and Heinrich Schulz-Beuthen, who wrote symphonic poems based on his painting “The Isle of the Dead”.  The English language wiki site for Schulz did not include a picture, but I believe he looked something like this:

I see NOTHING...except an awesome painting I want create a composition about

Another composer, the German Max Reger, wrote four tone poems inspired by Böcklin’s work, including “Playing in the Waves.”  It is not a bad piece. You can listen to it here. Maybe I should reassess my feelings about this painting. But maybe not, after all Hitler loved Böcklin and owned 11 of his paintings.

Josef Albers in Amerika! Runaway! Runaway!

Since coming back to Munich I have been ill and then have fallen in a rut (the good kind where I go and work at the library all day).  Today walking to work an old enemy resurfaced. Mr. Josef Albers. Now you might say didn’t he die more than thirty five years ago? You would be correct, but this doesn’t mean he can’t wreak havoc from beyond the grave.

Homage to the Square (photo: Pinakothek der Moderne)

There is currently  an exhibit of his works on paper organized by the Munich Graphische Sammlung at the Pinakothek der Moderne, which they are advertising around where I work.  I am sure it is a great little show and everyone should go see it. (There I have done my duty)

You might be wondering why this German-born American artist terrifies my very soul. The answer is simple. Color-aid!

Ahhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!

Yes, these little pieces of colored paper were the bane of my existence one horrible undergraduate semester. Thanks to Mr. Albers and other art educators I was forced to play for hours with these little bits of paper to understand how colors work together. I admit this is an important thing to know if you want to be a painter. I however did not since I believed that any reason to paint ended around the time a Mr. R Mutt submitted his little work to an exhibit in 1917.  Also I kinda suck at painting 🙂

I never had a hard time in studio classes, but Color and Design nearly killed me. I had a difficult time working on assignments that involved only the manipulation of color or shape without any sort of concept behind them. Fortunately my teacher became ill (she was just fine later, don’t worry) and was replaced by someone who assigned slightly more concept-driven projects. Otherwise I would have flunked out of college. Let’s just say Albers and his book “Interaction of Color” are not some of my favorite things.

Wunder Wednesday: The Residenz Schatzkammer (i.e. Shiny Stuff)

I had intended to write about the Christmas markets today, but when I went last night all the snow had melted and it was about 50 degrees. It almost killed my Christmas spirit and was extremely unphotogenic. So I had to rack my brain to come up with something else totally wunderschön and somewhat Christmas-y.

To me nothing says Christmas like shiny s**t (the subtitle of my dissertation) and there is only one place in the center of Munich that can offer enough sparkle to make me happy. And no, it is not Cartier’s  or Tiffany’ s, although it is nearby all the shi-shi jewelry stores.

It is the Treasury of the Residenz, which was the palace of the Bavarian rulers since let’s just say the dawn of time (a.k.a the 16th century). There was an earlier 14th century castle on the site, but I am not counting that.  The Residenz was built up over the centuries, until it was a massive thing. What I find most amazing is that it was almost completely destroyed during WWII, but through a ton of work has been greatly rebuilt.

Ok, I am not really able to express how amazing the rebuilding was, so here are some before and after pictures.

Before:

 

The Destroyed Hall of Antiquities

After: Move that Bus!!!!!

 

Those are people back there so you get a sense of scale

Anyway on to the Shiny Stuff.

As a quick aside I like saying shiny, because it makes me feel like Kaylee on Firefly.

 

Which is cool, because it means I get to hang out with Captain Tight Pants

The treasury comprises ten rooms with amazing sacred and secular pieces that date back more than a thousand years. Including some things that are very important for my dissertation and some stuff that is just plain awesome. Wait! I mean SHINY!

 

Henry II's Reliquary (This looks a lot like a book cover, am I right?). Photo: http://www.residenz-muenchen.de

 

Cross of Queen Gisela

My favorite is this Renaissance reliquary for a relic of St. George. It is simply breathtakingly shiny.

 

You kill that gem encrusted dragon, George!

Anyway, it is definitely worth visiting next time you are in Munich and are not in the mood for Glühwein.

Things Departments Should Tell You Before You Research Abroad

I have been living and researching in Munich for over a year now. During this time I have realized that I was in no way prepared to deal with all this entails. Talking to other grad students who are on fellowship and researching at foreign institutions, I have discovered that my experiences are not unique. So here is a list of things I wish I had been told before I was sent off into the wide world to try to write a dissertation.

1. You are going to feel like a moron most of the time.  This is going to come as a shock. You have probably become accustomed to feeling pretty intelligent. After all, you are working on your PhD and you have just won a fairly prestigious grant.  It is going to be difficult to have your ego bruised nearly everyday as you try to understand a different culture and language. Just dealing with the hiccups of daily life (e.g. disputing phone bills, making photocopies, arguing with the person who just cut in front of you in the line, trying to return something to the store) is going to be tough at first. You will have check out clerks and children look at you like you are a drooling idiot.  Old women will wonder what you are doing in the country if you can’t speak the language well. Although you will learn and adapt over time, about once a week something new will be thrown at you and you will be back to feeling like an idiot. Solution: There is nothing much you can do, besides steeling yourself in anticipation of this.

2. Even if you studied the language of the country you are now in, it is going to be insufficient to speak about your project in an academic way.  Solution: Prepare in advance several sentences that describe what you are doing. (I should still do this).  [Also, practice smiling and nodding in the mirror. It will get you through receptions or field trips.)

3. Most people are friendly at the libraries or universities where you will be working. Don’t be afraid to ask for help. Of course there is always going to be some ass hat who is going to make things difficult. He or she will invariably be in charge of the resource you need most. Solution: find out when it is his or her day off.

4. Everything is going to take longer than you planned. Period.  Just don’t be surprised when this happens.

5. An important archive, object, or building you need to see will be inaccessible until the day after you leave. Solution: There isn’t any. Fate is a bitch!

6. You are going to need some sort of document, permission, library card, or pass from Office A. To get this you need to go to Office B for Form 1, which is on the east side of the city. Office B will send you to Office C (in the same building but only open on Mondays from 9-12) to get Form 2 to request Form 1. When filling out the form you find that you are going to need passport photos and a letter from Office A.  After getting this, you will take all of the documents, forms, and photos to Office D (north side of the city), they will stamp the form so you can take it back to Office A to get the thing you originally needed. Solution: Be prepared to do a lot of walking and queuing and buy some comfortable shoes.

7. If you are being paid in Euros, the dollar will get stronger.  If you are being paid in dollars, one Euro will be worth about 2 bucks. Solution: Emergency Pizza will save you money and keep you from starving.

8. Grants will rarely be enough to support you, but they will insist that you do no other form of work or take no further grants. Solution: Emergency Pizza.

9. You will realize that your department has not prepared you to use archives. Solution: get names of students who have worked there in the past and they can tell you what pitfalls to avoid. Or don’t pick a project that requires lots of archival research (Now you are thinking!)

10. You will also discover that you have no idea how to write a dissertation. Your advisor is going to offer vague suggestions while making concrete deadlines. Solution: Just accept that you will figure it out as you go. I have also learned to stop expecting that it will be brilliant and groundbreaking. This is a learning experience and something that you have to get done. (My advisor only pointed that out this summer). It will help you not be afraid to start if you think of it thusly.

Also, fake and real illnesses are always handy when it comes to avoiding short-term deadlines. You can tell your dissertation is going badly, when you hope for a horrible flu that will mean you can just stay in bed and sleep. Mmmm, sllllleeeeeeepppppp.

If all else fails, procrastinate by writing blog entries.

My Favorite Things Thursday: Dürer’s Self-Portraits

Photo: Alte Pinakothek

I have always imagined the Renaissance artist Albrecht Dürer to be a bit of a pompous ass. And no, it is not because of this famous self-portrait in Munich’s Alte Pinakothek where he portrays himself as God the Father. And no, it is not from his copyright lawsuit or his correspondence. It is because of another self-portrait, which sadly is not in Munich.

 

Photo: Klassik Stiftung Weimar

Yep, that is the one. You see what I mean?

Anyway, getting back to the portrait in Munich, even though he is a total poser (look at me in my fancy clothes) it is still a beautiful painting and definitely worth the price of a Sunday admission (1 Euro)

My Favorite Things Thursday: “Hieronymus Jobs during his Exams”

Yes, I am aware that it is Friday.  Yesterday morning I was stuck waiting in line and the Kreisverwaltungsreferat (say that three times fast) to be told that I didn’t need to get my new residence pass after all. Three hours well spent.  Still, I didn’t want to miss out talking about one of my favorite paintings in Munich, which happens to be in one of my least favorite museums, the Neue Pinakothek.

So here it is in all its glory:

Hieronymus Jobs im Examen

Painted by Johann Peter Hasenclever (I have decided that Hasenclever is going to be my pen name) in the middle of the nineteenth century, it illustrates a moment from Carl Arnold Kortum’s satirical epic poem, Life, Opinions, and Deeds of Hieronymus Jobs the Candidate. Hasenclever painted another version of this scene which is in the Crocker Art Museum. If you are like me, you have no idea where the Crocker Art Museum is. Never fear. I looked it up for you. It is in Sacramento, CA. I guess this goes to show Sacramento is not all bad.

Since I do not want to really research this painting, I will rely on the Crocker’s curators.  “In the episode depicted here, the hard-drinking Jobs is tested on the subject of bishops. Mistaking the examiners’ intent, he describes the drink of that name rather than the ecclesiastical authority, much to their consternation.” They go on to write, “though the poem is not familiar to modern audiences, Hasenclever captures the varying reactions of the examiners, making his painting a study of universal human emotions.”

I would agree that this painting has a universal appeal, but I would go further and argue that this should be on every graduate student’s wall/carrel while they are studying for their qualifying exams. Why? As my friend and admin assistant at my university said, it is much better to imagine that your professors are wearing powdered wigs than to imagine them naked.

I think ol’ Hasenclever was particularly “smart as a bunny” for capturing the range of expressions one sees during the usual qualifying examination.

Let’s break this down:

1. Hieronymus Jobs (at the far right): Notice that he is wearing his best clothes. We all do this hoping that they will be distracted from our pathetic answers. Also note the open-mouthed, blank stare. I am pretty sure this was my expression during 89.4 percent of my exam. Finally, his right hand starts gesturing as if this will help the answers come more quickly.

2. We next have the rotund gentlemen in the seat closest to poor Jobs. He has obviously had a couple of drinks himself this morning and is mildly enjoying this.

3. Man staring out towards the viewer. That is not a look of surprise caused by ol’ Jerry’s answers. No, after years of faculty meetings and student presentations his face has stuck that way. (Don’t feel bad. His mother warned him)

4. Man with hand over his face on the other side of the table: He is not being thoughtful. He hopes to appear that way, but what he is really doing is suppressing a belch.

5. Two gentlemen in the background conversing. They are trying to decide where to go to lunch when this “damn exam is over.”

6. Worried looking man. He knew he had something to do this morning, but has forgot what it was. This makes him anxious. What he doesn’t realize is that what he had to do this morning was attend Jerry Jobs’ exam.

7. The man standing to their right. He has been told his double chin is less noticeable if he stands thusly and therefore is concentrating on his posture and not the exam.

8. The other man on the viewer’s side of the table. He is trying to come up with some brilliant further question or remark about Jobs’ answer to amaze his fellow faculty.

9. Guy with the dark wig behind him. He is looking forward to chiming in with some nasty (also brilliant) add-on to his neighbors snarky comment.

10. Man in the back with his chin in his hand. He is waiting for those other two to say something so he can take Jobs’ side. Not because he cares about this student who is obviously going to fail, but because he can’t stand those other two bozos.

11. Man standing in the very back. He has learned to sleep with his eyes open. (A skill we should all learn! I am off to try that now.)

“I’ll Grant you This”: What I have Learned about Applying for Fellowships

It’s that time of year again. The time when all good little graduate students are frantically trying to write and submit grant applications. If there were a Charmed-style demon that fed off anxiety, he simply could go to any graduate reading room during these months for his fear smorgasbord. (I am pretty sure there was one. He was played by the same actor who was the creepy bad guy in Brisco County Jr.)  This year I have been ordered to finish my dissertation and NOT to apply for any grants, fellowships, or stipends. Does this mean that Barbas (Demon of Fear according to the Charmed Wiki) would starve around me? Of course not! I am afraid of everything. Right now I am anxious about not being worried about grant applications. Since I can’t work on grant proposals by order of my Doktorvater, I thought I would reflect on what I have learned from writing (sometimes successfully) fellowship/grant proposals.

1. The most significant thing I have learned from this experience is just how much my dissertation lacks any sort of relevance or importance. This realization comes early on in the grant writing process, as you sit there staring at the flashing cursor on the blank Word document trying to come up with a way to sell your project.
2. Whether you win or not is a total crap shoot. I have a friend who was passed over completely for a relatively easy grant to win but was awarded one of the most prestigious fellowships in the field. Why didn’t the first funder see the merits of her awesome project? For the answer I turn to the host of “In Search of…”, Mr. Leonard Nimoy. Take it away, Spock.  “Like the mysteries of Bigfoot or Stonehenge, the secret of how to win grants is something we may never know.” [Cue music and credits]
3. If you the applicant are responsible for making the 13 photocopies that they require, there is no chance that you are going to win this. Why? This suggests that there are so many applicants for this one grant that the funder would go bankrupt just by photocopying all the applications for its reviewing committee.
4. Don’t be cute or use flowery language. I have learned this more from reading tons of grant proposals than from writing them. At first I was really impressed. After all, it seems so cheesy to start a proposal with, “My dissertation is about…” However, after you have read about 20 of these you just want the person to tell you what the hell he/she is working on and why he/she needs the goddamn money.
5. The pdf/word doc application forms are never easy to fill out on your own computer. These are designed by cave dwellers whose only joy in life is torturing applicants who are in a rush to fill these out.
6. No matter how many times you proofread your CV, you will discover mistakes and typos in it the next time you dig it out.  On the positive side, you can use these mistakes to rationalize why you did not win the last fellowship. “Oh, I didn’t get it because there is a typo in one of the titles of my publications! It was not because my project sucks.”
7. The committees don’t read narrative CVs or autobiographies. Why do they make you do this? Are they simply sadists? No! If you can make it through the horrible experience of trying to write about yourself without sounding like a prick, then you must have a will of iron.  (By the way, unless you have a “Commie” hunting grandfather and are now working on Soviet art history, this autobiography is going to be pretty boring or irrelevant.)
8. If you are applying for anything in Germany, go and have your passport photos made now. They are always required. I have been told this is to insure the applicant’s identity. Considering the past, I still find it surprising that Germany would want to have anything to do with something that could be interpreted as profiling.
9. For your own piece of mind, you might not want to choose your recommenders on how well they know you or how well-known they are, but on how well they handle deadlines. It doesn’t matter how awesome their recommendations are if they never submit them.  That being said, I must be a masochist. I never choose with this criterion in mind.
10. Finally: Yes, you are trying to sell yourself for money. And yes, this is a horrible experience. But when you consider other forms of prostitution, namely real prostitution, you realize that you are a ridiculously over-privileged whiner who needs to shut up.  I have been lucky enough to have funding for every year of graduate school.  Not that I haven’t worked hard for this. I have. But I need to remind myself how fortunate I am that I get paid to do what I love.  [Unfortunately, this realization doesn’t last long. Now if only they would pay me a living wage and not this chump change.]

I thought I would end with this quotation from a very wise man:

“Personally, I liked working for the university! They gave us money and facilities. We didn’t have to produce anything. You’ve never been out of college. You don’t know what it’s like out there! I’ve worked in the private sector… they expect results!”

Wunder Wednesday: Asamkirche

Not far from Sendlinger Tor is my absolutely favorite place in Munich, the Asamkirche.

If you think this is over-the-top, just wait

This amazing Rococo church is made even more amazing because it was built by Egid Quirin Asam, a  sculptor and architect, along with his brother to serve as his own private church.  I have to respect someone who uses their entire life savings to construct a church for themselves.

To accomplish this Egid Quirin bought four houses along Sendlingerstrasse.  The southern most he used for his own living quarters. The next two were for his church and the last was for the priest.  The Munichers were not too thrilled that he wasn’t go to have to open to the public. Somehow they managed to persuade him.  Even though he was constructing this in the middle of the 18th century, I found a video of the method the citizens of Munich probably used.

I don’t blame them. First, Herr Asam had blocky shoulders and a flat head. Second, it is the inside of the church that is really unbelievable.

When I describe this church to people, as say it is as if someone vomited stucco and gilt everywhere

Strangely enough the stucco, gilding, stain glass, and painted ceiling harmonize perfectly. It is as if you have step into a little jewel box. I have been inside many times and each time I go I see something new.

My Favorite Things Thursday: Italia and Germania

Italia and Germania (Photo: http://www.pinakothek.de/neue-pinakothek)

Stuck at home with a sore throat and cough, which I know will get me glares from my fellow library users, I decided to take Maria’s advice and think of my favorite things. Since I study art history, I tend to think of paintings and sculptures and papers with doodles over doorbells and sleigh bells and schnitzel with noodles.

Therefore, I am focusing on this early-nineteenth century painting, Italia and Germania, in the Neue Pinakothek here in Munich, rather than the fact that my throat is so sore it feels like I have been chugging battery acid.  In my opinion the Neue is the weakest of the three Pinakotheks. Only the last four or five rooms have anything worth the price of admission. (By price of admission, I mean the Sunday price of a euro. It is certainly not worth the full admission price of 7 euros).

Why is this one of my favorite paintings? Do I respond to the Raphael-like composition and bright colors? No, of course not! I love that Germania (the blond) is comforting Italia (the brunette).  “There, there Italia. You had a good run. Let Germany handle art from now on.  Come to think of it, let us handle everything else.”

Overbeck with family. I feel sorry for this woman

It may not surprise you to learn that this is the work of the German artist Friderich Overbeck, who spent most of his life in Rome.  By all accounts he seems to have been a fun sponge. He primarily wanted to renew religious art. He was part of a group known as the Nazarenes, a gaggle of German painters who reacted against Neo-Classicism. They wanted their art to be more spiritual, they considered Antique art to be pagan crap, and were not too keen on late Renaissance art. Everything up to Raphael, however, was deemed ok. (Big surprise there, since this painting practically reeks of him.)  They were called the Nazarenes by their detractors because of their strict monastic lifestyle and the fact that many went around wearing long, trailing cloaks and had long, flowing hair. Overbeck refused to draw the female nude and wrote a lot of dry, tedious things.

This painting was meant as response to a painting by his friend, fellow painter Franz Pforr. With him and their gang of German painters, Overbeck had moved to Rome in 1810 and soon took up residence in an abandoned monastery. They considered Pforr their leader, because of his spiritual intensity. When Pforr died from TB in 1812, however, they decided living in an abandoned monastery was not such a great idea.

Overbeck lived much longer, painted a lot, and tried to get rid of sensuality in art. See! Total fun sponge!