Critical Essay

Critical Essay – Single-Image Analysis

PHVP 3409

Experimental and Analytical Production with a Major Project

Hannah Thorpe

P0925888X

07/01/2014

Hannah Höch

Dompteuse, 1930

During Weimar Republic (1918-1933), two key developments were made in the wider context of industry, rationalism and consumerism: rapid growth in the mass print media and a dramatic redefinition of the social roles of women.

In 1920’s Germany, the transition women made from typical young woman to this New Woman was not smooth; as history shows, social revolution tends not to be. Yet, it is with this new mass media, emotional and political aftermath from World War I, that sprouted Berlin Dada. It is here Hannah Höch stands, sandwiched between two revolutions, as a female in a Dadaists’ world.

In 1925, Lotte am Scheidewege (see Fig. 1) was published, drawn by Karl Arnold, in an issue of German journal Simplicissimus. The joke is that this modern female, donned in male clothing with feminine touches, does not know whether she is male or female - perhaps a new gender altogether. Women’s rights were on the change, being given the right to vote in 1918, given increased presence in the working world (albeit low-paid positions). Newspapers, magazines and films all flaunted this new role for women, but soon distorted and contradicted by these forms of media. Messages of female empowerment were mixed with others of dependence and documents are easily found to show triumph of ascension to power, although problematic, in a male-lead world. One example is the March 9, 1919 cover of BIZ (see Fig. 2), a photograph of two female members of the National Assembly. Their position is of authority yet their wardrobe is masculine and they appear insecure in this attire, standing hunched and nervous. This photograph holds a contradiction of messages with newly empowered women, demonstrating authority and timidity.                                     

To gain advantage to achieve better understanding to the photomontages of Hannah Hoch, understanding the conventions in which they were made is key. Dada rose in 1916, arising as a literal and visual reaction to the horrors of World War I and that modern European society allowed it to ever have happened. Beginning in neutral Zurich, it soon spread to Berlin, becoming ‘Berlin-Dada’, banding together as a group of writers and artists using any public forum they could find to, metaphorically, spit on nationalism, rationalism and materialism. To find a closer context to their birth, Hans Richter compared Zurich Dada in “placid Switzerland”, to the hectic situation in Berlin, presenting symptoms of neurosis. The reasons were complex, yet understandable due to the various appalling effects from warfare: senseless slaughter, many friends dying on each side, the inconclusiveness of revolution being fought at that very moment, the long suppression of spirit, the successful and tempting precedent that was set by Zurich Dada, and finally the sudden vacuum created by the abrupt arrival of freedom from the war, where endless possibilities seemed realistic if one were to just try to reach them. Richter states:

“The whole atmosphere was hysterical, convulsive and unreal; artistic expression could hardly have taken any other form.”¹

Today we label Dada as an art form, perhaps movement, in itself. Yet the Dadaists of early twentieth century convulsed at the notion of calling what they do ‘art’. What they would call anti-art (or non-art) was a form in which they could find a new way of self-expression.

“The Dadaists, who had ‘invented’ static, simultaneous and phonetic poetry, applied the same principles to visual representation. They were the first to use photography to create, from totally disparate spatial and material elements, a new unity in which was revealed a visually and conceptually new revolution. “²

Contrary to traditional forms of visual expression, the Dadaists saw themselves as engineers and photomontage came to surface as their ruse. The typical aesthetic of a Dada photomontage would be described as a simultaneous juxtaposition of different points of view and angles of perspective, Hausmann coined it “a kind of motionless moving picture.”³ One could point out the irony in calling art ‘anti-art’, still being a form of expression - a manifestation of visual thought or belief; yet to counter this, Raoul Hausmann wrote:

“This term translates our aversion at playing the artist, and, thinking of ourselves as engineers (hence our preference for workmen’s overalls) we meant to construct, to assemble our works.”⁴

In 1964, Richter called that “while Hausmann proclaimed the doctrine of anti-art, she [Hannah Höch] spoke up for art”⁵. Höch was on of the first Dadaist practitioners to use the infamous photomontage technique and although a member of the Berlin Dada group, Höch never truly embraced the “anti-art” position. She also took little part in the active polemic and ‘performance’ of Dada, not feeling comfortable participating in the practice of radical public spectacle. She was often marginalised within the group and did not receive the recognition her male peers enjoyed.                                                                     

Höch’s greatest contribution to the Dada non-movement was her cutting-edge development of the photomontage technique. She, alongside Hausmann, is often credited for inventing the practice, although it was Sally Stein who pointed out that photomontage was a common tool in advertising since the nineteenth century⁶. It was in 1918 when Höch and Hausmann began to make photomontages, Höch saying the inspiration came from the montages on postcards coming from soldiers.

Höch’s handiwork was born from her earlier years. Born in 1889, Gotha, Germany, she grew up in a comfortable bourgeois small-town society. Previously being withheld from her studies for six years, she later continued in 1912 studying glass design at the School of Applied Arts, Berlin-Charlottenburg. However with the sudden eruption of war in 1914, her contented view on the world shattered – placing her with a newfound political consciousness. It wasn’t until 1915 she was able to continue her studies in Berlin, this time enrolling in graphic arts. This background led her to her ten-year position, working part time at the Ullstein Verlag⁷, employed in the handicraft department designing garment patterns for magazine and booklets. It is easy to see the link between her artworks and her place of work, for she often incorporated lace and handiwork patterns into her montages – combining the traditional woman’s craft with this new modern mass culture.

Höch’s own work, to a large degree, did not simply reflect her autobiographical experiences; rather they formed around the social and political issues that surrounded her. These new issues of sexuality, morality and politics confronting the image of the New Woman became the epicenter of her work and they showed her to be an avid observer of women’s roles and stereotypes in mass culture. Her links with Dada society, however, came directly from her relationship with Raoul Hausmann, meeting in 1915. Their seven-year relationship was publicly acknowledged, despite Hausmann being married with a daughter. Yet although intense and passionate, the relationship was full of friction defining their views and identity within the new concepts of gender and psychology.

It was the views on feminism in which their views were akin. However, Hausmann was more of an outspoken feminist - a view stirringly diverse for a man of his day and age. He objected to the conformations of women, proclaiming their needs for freedom over their own minds and bodies and he massively protested against the existing beliefs that women who did not submit to masculine authority were ‘floozies’ or ‘whores’. But considering his treatment of Höch, ignoring her requests for a monogamous relationship. But not wanting to give up the good situation of a wife and child, he rather accused Höch of being conventional – against her usual style – and unable to pull herself above the male way of thinking. He felt if she were a true liberated woman, she would tolerate their polygamous relationship. Upon this, we surely must ask ourselves how much of his feminist views he held were purely theoretical? So to the topic of feminism and their relationship, she wanted him to attend to her feelings and emotional needs while he preferred her to take a larger activist role.

Hausmann and Höch had very different approaches to Dada through photomontage. Hausmann would put his revolutionary thought first, his work being first and foremost an attack on social and bourgeois tendencies. Together the pair collaborated on at least one occasion with Dada-Cordial, 1919 (see Fig. 3), and it is here we can indefinitely see the differences in style. On the left of the, Hausmann’s combination of text and imagery are confrontational and hostile. The male figures are bluntly juxtaposed with obvious phallicy to show the masculine patriarch marching toward bold progression, while the texts are cut from a Dada manifesto to emphasise political agitation. On the right side, Höch’s texts perform a gentler act via an anonymous poem, persuading by subtle seduction; subtlety that is continued by the combination of mechanic and organic imagery. The imagery plays as a metaphor undermining the bourgeois in a playful style – a car is rendered useless, turned on its side yet the wheels still spinning. It becomes apparent she gains gratification in the process of montage, paying close attention to the aspects of layering, juxtaposition and poetic combination. It is as in much of her work that she uses poetry, metaphors and humor to carry her critique on social standards. To compare, Hausmann’s aggressive and blunt approach calls for much less interpretation and analysis.

What emerges is that Hausmann and Höch’s approach to the montage technique are contrary to one another. While Hausmann (among the majority of the Berlin Dada group) saw it as a means to a political outcry, Höch saw the revolution as an outlet for her art. Hausmann, on many occasions throughout their relationship, tried to persuade Höch to believe in the power of Dada activism and agitation, thus creating further friction inside their relationship. And while Höch did not strictly oppose activism, she remained skeptical on its effectiveness to transform society.

It was until late Weimar times that Höch’s sexual identity changed. She had long left Raoul Hausmann in 1922, by 1926 she had begun a lesbian relationship with Til Brugman, a Dutch writer. It’s not clear whether Höch identified herself as lesbian or bisexual, but it is with this new relationship that exposed her to gender issues more closely. This did not take direct effect on her work depicting issues on the New Woman, although her work seemed to illustrate positivity and pleasure between movements in masculine and feminine identities. And it is this androgynous representation of gender that was central to Höch’s late Weimar work.

Perhaps her most ambiguous and sophisticated image of androgyny is Dompteuse (Tamer), 1930 (see Fig. 4). We are instantly met with the central figure, sculpting a female head yet a masculine and muscular body, sporting hairy arms and a flat torso. The viewer is hit with immediate confusion and an impossibility of reading a singular gender. A particularly pronounced example of this is shown in Höch’s earlier works, such as Roma, 1925 (see Fig. 5), where she mocks gender specification by giving male heads female bodies.

Another immediate significance we see is that the segments of pictures come from a variety of photographic types; combining sepia tones, black and white, and colour imagery. Thus the viewer is fully aware that these are segments. The constructive nature of the figure is evident, which further prevents this form being seen as natural. We next read the position of the central figure, with its arms crossed and presumably looking down at the sea lion, suggesting instant domination, and it is somewhat beautiful. Looking closely, its face appears fairly passive, however. Whereas the sea lion looks outward, engaging with the viewer with a sly gaze. The obvious contrast of scale between the two figures now creates a sense of apprehension.

Looking closer, back and forth between the two figures, it becomes unclear as to which figure – or possibly, which gender – may hold dominance. The faces contradict each other with double meaning; a passive pale face on a masculine body of huge scale, next to the darker, smaller head of the sea lion with its make-up coated, uncanny gaze. With these differences, the shape of the eyes are particularly similar, establishing some form of unity between the two.

In Maud Lavin’s writings about Höch’s ‘genderless’ images, he adds:

“Through juxtaposition and denial of closure, Höch’s representation of androgyny encourages the mechanisms of the fetishizing gaze to shift between masculine and feminine objects. …It institutes an oscillation between polarized positions of masculinity and femininity, establishes a bisexual relationship to the object of desire, and shifts between disavowal and recognition of that bisexuality.”⁸

Höch’s tradition of approaching issues of the New Woman shine through, questioning the material makeup and separation between genders. 

She ironically uses images from Weimar mass media, where androgyny had been isolated to fashion, to transform them as women taking on the attributes of men. 

There is a constant circling paradox within Höch’s androgynous images. Another equally complex image is Höch’s later piece, Die Starken Manner, 1931 (see Fig. 6). This composite fuses the two genders together in one single form, posing gender confusion and therefore further posing the question of, as Maud Lavin wrote, “…whether one is viewing representation of self of other”⁹.

Inquiries into the representation of women and female social identities have reconstructed our understanding of modern society, during the twentieth century and continuing on into the twenty-first century still. Hannah Höch’s placement was that in a place of disarray and revolution. A time where she was allowed to express herself as she pleased, yet was still, at times, not taken seriously for doing so - whether it was for what she stood for or simply for her gender.

Although her work was, at the time, specific to early twentieth century Germany, the same cannot wholly be said of the issues she approached. The constructs of power, economics and subjectivity still stand today, people still fight for equality and will for years to come – the constant fight between power and equality remains attached to the society of ‘man’.  

While her famous montage work was born in Dadaism, it was her work that outlived the ‘non’ movement. For although she stood for modern society and expressed her views through constructing images as the Dadaists did, Höch’s passion wasn’t for the blunt sake of rebellion and uprise, it was for her own expression for what the Dada dispute was for from the start.

Dompteuse is a fine example of a true Höch piece, through to her traditional style, what she stood for and how she was. She was a true believer in revolution, yet remained on the margins, skeptical and moderate, avoiding conformation in many constructs but done in a poetic manner. A word to possibly describe her could be ‘modern’. A modern woman compared to, perhaps, even our times.

What is striking about Dompteuse, is its ambiguous and paradox form. Its multiple meanings confuse yet intrigue the viewer into thinking thoroughly about a subjects’ own definition – does one object only hold one meaning? Should it? The beauty of this pieces’ ambiguity leads to the applicability of these questions to almost any subject at hand. Be it social tendencies, or other art works.

Notes

¹ H. Richter, Dada: Art and Anti-Art.

² R. Hausmann, Definition der Foto-Montage.

³ R. Hausmann, Definition der Foto-Montage.

⁴ D. Ades, Photomontage, p. 7.

⁵ H. Richter, Dada: Art and Anti-Art.

⁶ S. Stein, The Composite Photographic Image.

⁷ Ullstein Verlag: Founded in 1877 by Leopold Ullstein at Berlin, was one of the largest publishing companies of Germany.

⁸ M. Lavin, Cut with the kitchen knife: The Weimar photomontages of Hannah Höch.

⁹ M. Lavin, Cut with the kitchen knife: The Weimar photomontages of Hannah Höch.

Bibliography

ADES, D. (1976) Photomontage. London: Thames and Hudson.

ADES, D. (1978) Dada and Surrealism Reviewed. London: Westerham Press.

BECKETT, J. et al. (1978) The Twenties in Berlin. Suffolk: Green and Co.

CHAMETZKY, P. (2010) Objects as history in twentieth-century German art. London: University of California Press.

LAVIN, M. (1993) Cut with the kitchen knife: The Weimar photomontages of Hannah Höch. London: Yale University Press.

RICHTER, H. (1997) Dada: Art and Anti-Art. London: Thames and Hudson.

EVANS, P.L (2008) Berlin Dada, Revolutionary Action and Photomontage: Hannah Hoch and Raoul Hausmann [WWW] Available from: http://phyllisevans.com/essays/07_essay_berlin_dada_01_01_09.html

ABOUT.CON (2013) What is Dada? [WWW] Available from: http://arthistory.about.com/cs/arthistory10one/a/dada.htm

ABOUT.COM (2013) Hannah Hoch [WWW] Available from: http://womenshistory.about.com/od/artpainting/a/hannah_hoch.htm

NGA.GOV (2013) Hannah Hoch [WWW] Available from: http://www.nga.gov/exhibitions/2006/dada/artists/hoch.shtm

TAYLOR, K (2013) Hannah Hoch [WWW] Available from: http://courses.washington.edu/femart/final_project/wordpress/test-taylor-k/

YELLOWBELLYWEBDESIGN (2013) Hannah Hoch [WWW] Available from: http://www.yellowbellywebdesign.com/hoch/gallery.html