The Bright Side of Weimar

George Grosz’s name evokes images of the ill-fated Weimar Republic as inescapably as does Bertolt Brecht or the movie Cabaret. Even those who never go to art galleries and whose knowledge of history is spotty have little trouble identifying those bloated, leering capitalists, begging veterans, transparently garbed prostitutes: inhabitants of the world of Left-radical cliches that he brought to life, and that have made his name synonymous with dissolute, cruel, fascinating 1920s Berlin. That there was another side to this artist (as there was, incidentally, to the Weimar Republic and to Berlin), a more humane, gentler side, and that this was coupled with a painterly ambition to rival the great masters of the past—which ambition emerged only with Grosz’s emigration to the United States in 1932—had been overlooked by public and critics alike; or, if its presence has been acknowledged, it has been dismissed as an unfortunate aberration on the part of one whose talents lay in political satire alone.

Grosz spent his American years in suburban Long Island, first in Douglaston, later in Huntington, so it is fitting that Huntington’s Heckscher Museum, which possesses notable examples of the artist’s work, early and late, should attempt to reassess his achievement. While not ignoring the familiar Berlin period, the Heckscher concentrates on what he accomplished in America, presenting, in all, 73 oils and a sampling of the collages he made just before he died in 1958, which have only recently come to light. This show contains a large number of pictures lent by the Grosz estate, many of them never exhibited before; thus it compels even those who considered themselves familiar with all aspects of Grosz to revise or at least modify their assessment. For the general public it offers many exciting surprises.

RB

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Ruth Berenson

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George Grosz’s name evokes images of the ill-fated Weimar Republic as inescapably as does Bertolt Brecht or the movie Cabaret. Even those who never go to art galleries and whose knowledge of history is spotty have little trouble identifying those bloated, leering capitalists, begging veterans, transparently garbed prostitutes: inhabitants of the world of Left-radical cliches that he brought to life, and that have made his name synonymous with dissolute, cruel, fascinating 1920s Berlin. That there was another side to this artist (as there was, incidentally, to the Weimar Republic and to Berlin), a more humane, gentler side, and that this was coupled with a painterly ambition to rival the great masters of the past—which ambition emerged only with Grosz’s emigration to the United States in 1932—had been overlooked by public and critics alike; or, if its presence has been acknowledged, it has been dismissed as an unfortunate aberration on the part of one whose talents lay in political satire alone.

Grosz spent his American years in suburban Long Island, first in Douglaston, later in Huntington, so it is fitting that Huntington’s Heckscher Museum, which possesses notable examples of the artist’s work, early and late, should attempt to reassess his achievement. While not ignoring the familiar Berlin period, the Heckscher concentrates on what he accomplished in America, presenting, in all, 73 oils and a sampling of the collages he made just before he died in 1958, which have only recently come to light. This show contains a large number of pictures lent by the Grosz estate, many of them never exhibited before; thus it compels even those who considered themselves familiar with all aspects of Grosz to revise or at least modify their assessment. For the general public it offers many exciting surprises.