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History of Art Literature Anthologies
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Francesco Mazzaferro
Lights and Shadows of the Two Versions of the Anthology "Artists on Art" by Hans Eckstein (1938 and 1954)
Part One
[Original Version: April 2017 - New Version: April 2019]
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| Fig. 1) The anthology Artists on Art by Hans Eckstein, 1938 |
Introduction
We are examining the anthologies of art history
sources to search for elements that would allow us to study the history of this
genre. We have already considered texts in various languages, starting with the
collections of letters of artists by Ernst Karl Guhl (1853-1856), a Mid-XIX century German scholar very close to Waagen, inspired by a historicism of clear
idealistic origin. In the German world, we also identified a divide: we saw on
the one hand the birth of a Viennese positivist vein, with the anthologies of Julius von Schlosser about the Middle Ages (1892 and 1896), and on the other
hand the proliferation in Berlin of other anthologies of artists’ writings,
which were conceptually influenced by idealism: they were the texts by Else Cassirer (1914),
Paul Westheim (1925) and Hermann Uhde-Bernays (1926), all volumes of great commercial success at their times.
What united the three scholars in Berlin was the attempt to renovate the
history of art on the basis of the original texts of artists, giving the floor
to painters, sculptors and architects instead of art critics, and testing a
route that would bind firmly the development of German art to the French world
(and Europe in general) in the nineteenth and twentieth century (Cassirer,
Westheim) and to the universal history of art (Uhde-Bernays). Meanwhile, since
1921, we also saw the birth of an independent French school, with Paul Ratouis de Limay (1921),
all related to the idea of examining the literary quality of the texts of
artists. In the following decade, the forced emigration of European
intellectuals promoted the study of the sources of the history of the United
States and led to the publication of the first American anthologies, edited by Robert
Goldwater and Marco Treves (1945), and Elizabeth Gilmore Holt (1947). Of all
these texts we proposed a translation and comment of the introductory texts.
The same we are doing today for this anthology of Hans Eckstein, offering a
comparative reading of the 1938 and 1954 versions. The next post in this series
will deal with Enrico Panzacchi’s Italian anthology "Il libro degli
artisti” (The Book of the artists) published in 1902, the French one named
"Propos d'artistes" by Florent Fels, 1925, the Russian four-volume
anthology “Мастера искусства об искусстве”, i.e. "The masters of art on
art" by David Efimovic Arkin and Boris Nikolaevich Ternovets (1935-1939),
and two other collections of artists’ letters in German language, respectively
by Gustav René Hocke (1938) and Gerhard Peters (1948).
* * *
Artists on the art
The German
anthology Artists on the art by Hans
Eckstein (1898-1985), a publicist in the field of art and architecture during
the Weimar Republic, who acquired renewed fame as scholar of architecture and
industrial design in the Federal Republic of Germany in the years 1950-1960,
raises many questions.
First, it had two different editions of it: one published in Munich in 1938 [1] (later
reprinted in 1941) which contained only letters from German artists from the
eighteenth to the very first twentieth century, and one published in
Berlin/Darmstadt in 1954 [2], both with a broader scope geographically (there
are letters from artists from around the world, not only German-speaking countries) and
with a different time horizon (the artists of the eighteenth century
disappeared, and those of the twentieth century avant-garde got in it). The
1954 version, however, was presented typographically to the reader as a first
edition (I found out the 1938 one by accident).The two editions took shape,
obviously, in entirely different political and institutional contexts: the
first in Nazi Germany i.e. in a totalitarian regime based on racism and
nationalism, the second in post-war Western Germany, a constitutional and fully
democratic state, linked to European integration and the Western world. What
was common and what was instead different, when writing a history of art
literature in completely opposite situations? Can a comparison between the two
introductions (which we translated and are publishing in parallel in the third and fourth part
of this post) help us understand the evolution of the artistic taste of the
society, in the fields of both visual arts and architecture?
Second,
Eckstein’s anthology had the same title as the Russian anthology in 4 volumes
published in Moscow in the same years (between 1933 and 1939) by the scholar of
modern architecture David Efimovich Arkin (1899-1957) [3] and the art
historian, sculptor and director of the Museum of Modern Art in Moscow Boris
Nikolaevich Ternovets (1884-1941) [4], i.e. Мастера искусства об искусстве (The masters of art on art). We know
for certain (since the introduction of the first volume of the Russian anthology
in 1933 [5]) that Arkin and Ternovets were inspired by the work of Hermann Uhde-Bernays 1926, as they also planned to write a universal art literature
anthology. But did they themselves influence German scholars? Why did Eckstein
use a title already used in Moscow in previous years? Did he publish, during
the Nazi regime, a collection which was inspired - at least in the methods – by
a Soviet text? What was the transmission channel (if there was)? Was it perhaps David Arkin,
who shared the same interest as Eckstein for rationalist architecture? Or was
it simply a common reference to Uhde-Bernays (the text of which was anyway
entitled "Künstlerbriefe über Kunst"
– Letters of artists on art)?
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| Fig. 2) The 1954 edition of the anthology Artists on the art of Hans Eckstein |
Third, of Hans
Eckstein we read several reviews about art and architecture he published in the
years of the Weimar Republic, for example in the magazines Die Kunst für Alle (since 1926) and Kunst und Künstler (in 1933, the last year of publication before
the suppression by the Nazis). Here it seems useful to quote his book review on
the programmatic pro-Nazi pamphlet Kampf
um die Kunst (The battle for art) by Paul Schultze-Naumburg in March 1931 [6].
It was a harsh and uncompromising attack against the author, and a harsh
criticism to the Nazi aesthetic programmatic, of which Eckstein denounced the
racist ideology, judged by him as totally devoid of any consistency. On
architectural issues, it is evident that Eckstein took the side of the
modernist school of architecture of Walter Gropius and Bruno Taut (Neues Bauen), which Schultze-Naumburg
rather opposed in a radical way. Jochen Meister explained that, in addition to
that of Eckstein, there was only another voice to protest against that pro-Nazi
pamphlet amongst the main German art magazines [7]. The rich archival fonds on Hans
Eckstein archived at the Getty Foundation documented 28 letters addressed
to Max Liebermann in those years [8] and numerous anti-Nazi writings
published in Switzerland between 1933 and 1934 [9]. How does one explain, then,
that the author published an anthology of art literature in Munich in 1938 and
that the text was released again in 1941, even in war time?
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| Fig. 3) Salomon Gessner, Gorge with waterfall and three women, 1777 |
Two additional issues
raise the most important moral questions. Eckstein published, at the end of the
volume, a very detailed ''list of sources ". Yet, when analyzing the
choice of texts, it is obvious that in most cases (with the important exception
of the section on architecture)
the choice of the authors and the selection of the texts were probably strongly
inspired by the preceding anthologies: the "Letters of the nineteenth century artists" (published in
1913/14 and reprinted again in 1919 and in 1923) by Else Cassirer and especially the
"Letters of artists on art" by Uhde-Bernays 1926.
Both texts were not mentioned in the volume of 1938, although Eckstein’s
introduction seems – in my view – inspired by that of Uhde-Bernays. The table
below (Fig. 4) also shows how eighteen out of twenty painters and sculptors in his
volume were also present in the anthology of the latter scholar. I compared the
eighteen situations in which Eckstein presented authors already included in
other anthologies, to check whether the same letters were chosen. For a few
artists (such as Joseph Anton Koch and Alfred Rethel) Eckstein published
different passages from those contained in the other anthologies. In many other
cases, however, it was not the case. For example, for the poet and Swiss
landscape painter Salomon Gessner, he proposed the same (beautiful) letter to
Johann Heinrich Füssli, taken in one case from the collection of Gessner’s
writings in the original version published in Zurich in 1788 (Uhde-Bernays)
and in another case (Eckstein) in a following edition in Vienna in 1804. In the
case of Peter Cornelius, Eckstein chose one of the three letters already
available in the anthology by Uhde-Bernays, referring to the same source (a
monograph on the Nazarene painter printed in Berlin in 1874). The same happened
for Anselm Feuerbach (he published one of the three letters in the anthology of
letters by Uhde-Bernays, a very poignant text to the parents about the torments
of the young artist, who was afraid of not being able to produce what he wanted). I could go on: it is evident that there was an overlap not only in terms
of authors, but also texts. Might it be that Eckstein just reproduced the most
beautiful texts he simply found in the previous anthologies?
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| Fig. 4) Authors included by Eckstein in his anthology |
I asked myself
whether this overlap was an objective necessity, due to the fact that -
obviously - anthologies can only focus on a limited number of available
sources. Or was it a true manipulation, through which Eckstein wanted us to
believe that he had conducted an archival work which was actually completed by
others before him? And what about the similarities between the introductory
texts of Eckstein and Uhde-Bernays? Are they due to the common belonging to the
idealist tradition in Germany, or are they simply part of a survival strategy of the author, to complete
as soon as possible the volume in a probably very uncertain personal situation?
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| Fig. 5) Alfred Rethel, Also a dance of the dead, first sheet, 1848 |
Finally, to put
the matter brutally: did Eckstein (and especially his publisher) decide to
publish the anthology in 1938 to fill the market niche from which the Nazi
censors had just expelled Else Cassirer? Just in the same year of publication,
the Jewish scholar fled, with her husband Bruno, to Britain to escape racial
persecution. All publications (including the anthology of his wife) printed by
the husband Bruno, one of Germany largest publisher of art, had been withdrawn
from the market on February 25, 1937, by order of the Nazi police. In sum,
Eckstein not only failed to mention Else Cassirer, but on the top of it he also
offered a product that largely coincided with that of the Jewish scholar, at a
time when he could not fear anymore her competition. Can we therefore speak of
an aggravated plagiarism against an author persecuted by the regime? And why,
if citing Cassirer in 1938 was perhaps impossible because of the Nazi regime, was
this wrong not corrected in the edition of 1954?
Internal emigration as passive resistance to
Nazism
There may have
been many ways, in which one could oppose a totalitarian regime like National Socialism.
There were those who decided to tackle it frontally and became part of an
active dissent. There were those who moved abroad for the rest of their life.
Others took refuge in a form of passive resistance, known in the literature on
totalitarian regimes as 'internal
emigration'. This is a 'technical' term, which is altogether different from
the 'internal exile' (confino)
practiced as a repressive measure by Italian fascism: the 'internal' immigrants
were not subject to a criminal law regime. At times they were merely tolerated, provided they would not engage in politics and would not be active on topics
that would put them in a position explicitly contrasting the regime. There were, finally, also people who decided voluntarily to retire in an intimate world, far away
from the events of their days, isolating themselves from the events and thereby
refusing to be part of a 'totalitarian world'. These latter people simply wrote
(or privately acted) differently from the regime; they did not embrace - even
implicitly - its cause, since they were inspired by different, and structurally
incompatible conceptual categories. Obviously, also the inactive internal
migrants feared regime repression. Their form of opposition consisted in not
adhering to the compulsory totalitarian narrative, without criticizing it
(otherwise, they would have immediately ended up in the hands of the Gestapo),
but it was always potentially liable to ideological criticism by the regime.
I think this was
the case with Hans Eckstein. As mentioned above, until the seizure of power by
the Nazi, he had written actively against them in newspapers and art and
architecture magazines, not hesitating to express diametrically opposite
positions in the field of aesthetics. Then he moved, probably in order to escape reprisals, to
Switzerland. The few lines about him in the archives of the German Historical
Museum in Nuremberg included the information that "since 1933, he published mainly in Switzerland” [10]. This is
however inaccurate. In fact, he indeed published art reviews, in some cases of
strong anti-Nazi tenure, for newspapers in Basel and Zurich in 1933-1934. Yet
his essay "The beautiful house.
Contemporary living spaces in 225 illustrations" was still published
in Germany in 1934. In 1935, he was again present with articles for the
magazine Die Kunst für alle (which had
since been nazified), and he published books in Germany since 1938.
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| Fig. 6) Carl Gustav Carus, View of the Colosseum at night, 1830-1832 |
The anthology
was released in 1938 by a minor, but important German publisher, which was
known for the quality of their work. It was the Wilhelm Langewiesche-Brandt
publishing house, based in Ebenhausen, near Munich. The founder, Wilhelm
Langewiesche (1866-1934), had passed away four years before, but the company
continued to operate for many decades (it was absorbed by another publishing
house in 2010). To their credit there were among other numerous anthologies of
letters (including the complete collection of Goethe’s letters, a bestseller
published in 1907 and presented to the public on a regular basis).
Hans Eckstein’s
archival fonds, preserved at the Getty Foundation, contains 64 letters
exchanged between author and publisher between 1936 and 1938. The letters
basically concerned two book projects: a "History of the
Hohenstaufen" (Geschichte der
Hohenstaufen) that would never materialize, and in fact the anthology of
"Artists on art". The
contract was signed on June 2, 1938 [11].
Having not got to
see the letters, I cannot add anything more on the reasons and the events
surrounding the publication. And, on the other hand, we know nothing definite
also about what happened to Eckstein in those years. Please permit me,
therefore, to advance an entirely conjectural hypothesis: perhaps after one or
two years in Switzerland, Eckstein decided (or was compelled) to return to
Munich around 1935. This raised the question of his attitude vis-à-vis the new
power. He could certainly not cover any prestigious roles (in institutions like
university, academy, and school) because he was most probably considered
suspicious. Probably, at first, he had to be satisfied to obtain limited space
in art magazines. To earn his keep, he had to write on topics that allowed him
to take no position on the policy of the regime, so as not to be subjected to
repressive policies.
Some examples of
the writings of those years show that he held well away from the issues of contemporary
architecture and design, to which he had devoted so much energy before 1933: in
1935, he published in the magazine Die
Kunst für alle an article on the
impressionist Fritz von Uhde [12] (1848-1911), a painter active in Munich of
whom he discussed the strong religious inspiration; in 1936, it appeared in the
same journal a brief review of an archaeology book on Ancient Olympia (it was
the year of the Olympic Games in Berlin). While it is not excluded that he
published other works with pseudonyms, these were the only texts of those
years. In 1938 he released the anthology "Artists on art", here reviewed, marking its re-entry in the
book market. In 1939, Eckstein published finally a guide to the Basilica of the
Fourteen Holy Helpers (Vierzehnheiligen),
one of the baroque masterpieces of Balthasar Neumann. In the 1935-1936, his
output as journalist was so rare to suggest that it could not be his main
source of income: the aforementioned item dedicated to him in the archives of
the Nuremberg German history museum indicated that, during the war, he worked
as a photographer. Maybe, he even lived of photography before the war. The
publication of only two volumes would let us assume that the main sources of
income were others.
I have in fact
the impression that Eckstein pursued in those years a mere strategy for survival. The
anthology of 1938 allowed him to return to publications, occupying an important
market niche, which had been forcefully vacated, as already said, by Elsa
Cassirer’s essay, which was no longer on the market during the Nazi regime
because it was written and published by Jews. A market for the letters of the
nineteenth century artists existed in Germany, as demonstrated by the fact
that, the same year, another anthology of Letters
of European artists, edited by Gustav René Hocke, was published. Both
Eckstein’s and Hocke’s anthologies were reprinted in 1941, in war time.
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| Fig. 7) Moritz von Schwind, The competition between the singers, 1855 |
There were, in
short, many lights and many shadows. Among the most disturbing shadows, I found
many objective reasons to wonder whether he committed plagiarism. First, he
failed to mention the previous anthologies, which clearly inspired it. Second,
the contract was signed in June 1938, and therefore there was really a short
period to complete publication: was it perhaps a sign that the materials were mostly
compiled on the basis of the previous texts? It should be said that, if this
suspicion exists for the sections on art and sculpture, the section with the
architects’ letters on the other hand was (almost) unprecedented: in the
edition of 1938 he presented letters of Heinrich Gentz, Louis Catel, Karl
Friedrich Schinkel, Heinrich Hübsch, Gottfried Semper, Otto Wagner and Adolf
Loos. Only the writings of Schinkel and Semper had been contained in previous
anthologies. It is obvious that, in the field of architecture, Eckstein owned
skills that allowed him to present – as we will see – a highly innovative
product, with original personal views.
On the other
hand (and we are now concluding on shadows and turning to lights), the reading
of the introduction in the 1938 version confirms that there was no direct
reference to Nazism nor any emphasis close to any ideologically charged theme.
On the contrary: that monumental painting which was so pleasing to the regime
in those years (here considered in the nineteenth-century expression of
'history painting') was relegated to the category of 'non-art'. To it Eckstein
preferred an art of naturalist inspiration. It cannot be a coincidence that he
quoted a long passage of the conversation between Cézanne (a painter whom the
Nazis could not love) and the writer Henri Gasquet, in order to emphasize the
primacy of naturalism. The anthology had no Nazi ideological basis, and relied
instead on the German cultural tradition of previous decades: carefully reading
the text of the introduction, one cannot escape how the author was inspired in
many ways by the most classic themes of German aesthetic culture (it looks like
a return to Fiedler and his theory of form), in a kind of "reversion"
that, by focusing the reader's attention on distant subjects, protected him
from any pollution by the ideology now in power for five years. In terms of
content, there appeared to be a total continuity with the introduction of Hermann Uhde-Bernays 1926, and with his interest for artists' letters as texts proving the existence of an ahistorical creative spirit,
which was always present in artists, but which only the nineteenth century had been
able to reveal explicitly.
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| Fig. 8) Karl Schuch, View of Olevano Romano, 1875 |
Furthermore, it
is also clear that – while Eckstein was not a Nazi – he did nevertheless not
support the latest developments in modern art. He was contrary to abstract art,
of which he did not recognize the ability to grasp the absolute. In absence of
correspondence between form and content, there could be no art, at least in his
view. In fact, the introduction ended like this: "The great nineteenth-century artists defended the unity of form and
content, not the artistic element by itself, against meta-artistic claims of
their time. They did not want to eject the figurative and shy away from any
connection with pre-established forms in nature. They did not practice the art of
denial, or abstract art, but the absolute art, which made visible the eternal
and divine law, confirming in every specific case a representation of reality:
in any particular situation, whatever art form always searches the totality of
existence. 'What is general? It is the individual case.' "
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| Fig. 9) Karl Stauffer-Bern, Portrait of Federal Councillor Emil Welti, 1887 |
Eckstein also
disliked that metaphysical conception of art that led Franz Marc, as written in
his famous aphorism 82, not to want to portray a water-hen (and therefore an
object of the real world), but that world that the hen herself would see with
his own eyes, when plunging the head into the lake. In Eckstein’s introductory
text, to the contrary, all the aesthetic discourse of the introduction was
governed by a rule of parallelism between nature and art, the inner and the outer
world, the artist's ability to see and the artist's ability to create, without
including between these two dimensions any interfering external element (it was
the central concept of the passage cited in the conversation between Cézanne
and Gasquet). To return to Marc’s aphorism, for Eckstein existed only – on the
one hand – hens as part of nature, and – on the other hand – the painter who
elaborated them on the canvas: a third world, that of the intimate view of the
little hen, in which Marc tried to identify himself, was not part of art but
pure intellectualism. Thus, one of the most original German art experiences
(the Blue Rider) was implicitly
considered as simply abstruse.
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| Fig. 10) Franz Marc, The yellow cow, 1911 |
The fact remains
that, at a time when it was not necessarily easy to do it, Paul Cézanne and
Franz Marc were mentioned in the introduction (although not included in the
collection of letters). Marc was officially classified by the regime as a
degenerate artist and his works were included in the exhibition of 1937 on
prohibited art. His paintings were not only rejected by the Nazis, but also
actually part of the 1938 "Exhibition
of Twentieth Century German Art" organized by exiles at the New
Burlington Galleries in London, as a form of protest against Nazi aesthetics.
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| Fig. 11) The catalogue of the exhibition of 20th century German art, organized by the New Burlington Galleries in London in 1938 |
Certainly, that
of Marc Eckstein was a less dangerous quotation than a reference to many other avant-garde
painters, since the painter had died in war in 1916, where he volunteered, and
could therefore be considered a hero even in an age such as in 1938, completely
dominated by a belligerent nationalism. Moreover, the anthology featured the
letters of another painter considered 'degenerate' by the regime: Lovis Corinth, who had also been during World War I an artist notoriously very close
to nationalistic themes.
However, there was no explicit reference in the 1938 volume, neither in any
introduction nor in the preface to the letters for each artist, and neither for
Marc nor for Corinth or anybody else, to the derogatory concept of so-called 'Entartete Kunst' (degenerate art), the
category on which the Nazis built their anti-modernist aesthetic. Finally, we
will take note in the second part of this post that, in the section on
architecture, Eckstein even timidly mentioned the "Neues Bauen", referring to the Viennese Adolf Loos as one of
its predecessors: it was, as it was said, a school of architecture completely
opposed by the Nazis. The anthology was thus written as if the Nazis had never
come to power, and nothing reminded us of their existence.
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| Fig. 12) Lovis Corinth, Self-Portrait with Straw Hat, 1923 |
However, there
was an ambiguous passage, even if a very hidden one: the concept of 'Entartung' (degeneration) had actually been
introduced in the German lexicon of art criticism at the end of the nineteenth
century about mannerism (starting with Carl Justi, who applied it to El Greco
[13]) without attributing to the term any political significance: mannerism was
interpreted as a ‘degenerated art’, i.e. an art that had lost momentum compared
to Renaissance. When Eckstein spoke in negative terms of the twentieth century
art schools (the 'isms' that he certainly did not like), he explained that the
latest developments in art were a sign of deep unease, and equivalent to
mannerism, if compared to the strength of some of 1800 artists. In fact, he
said it through a very short phrase, which had really no connection with the
rest of the text: "Michelangelo is
not responsible for the mannerism of their successors." Most probably
somebody ideologically close to Nazism would have been glad to read that
analogy to Mannerism, as he would have drawn from it the idea - though not
explicitly – that also for Eckstein modern art was a 'degenerate' development.
Only the consultation of the letters kept at the Getty Foundation could clarify
whether that phrase was ever discussed by the author with the publishing house
or even imposed by them.
The price you have to pay
Every
totalitarian regime has always imposed a very high price to pay for those who
did not support it. For exiles, the price could have been the distance from
family and friends, the loss of property, profession, and domestic activities, and in many
cases, the sufferance of poverty and disease. Those who stayed home could at
worst be persecuted and even physically eliminated. For internal migrants, the
price was the alienation from their world of feelings and from their
intellectual preferences. For someone like Eckstein, who managed to publish a
book in 1938 despite being an opponent of the Nazis until 1935 and probably
remaining intimately opposed to it, the price to pay was that of intellectual
involution.
The anthologies
of Cassirer (1913 and following years, until 1923) and Uhde-Bernays (1926)
offered us an image of German art literature as part of more general expression
of the will of the artists of their time (whatever their geographical origin)
to communicate freely the reasons for their art creations. One may wonder (we
did it) why, in the book edited by Cassirer, Italian art was less represented than other countries,
being testified only by Canova and Segantini. But there was no doubt that Cassirer’s
anthology offered the German reader, purchasing it in the months before the
outbreak of World War II, a wide offer of French, English and Spanish art
literature texts. It was the perhaps naïve expression of how Germany could have
been a world-open society, linked to traditional values, but content of
itself, if Wilhelminism had not prevailed and led the country to a global war
for power in Europe. In Ekstein's introduction, there was no intellectual expression of nationalism. Also
the collection of Uhde-Bernays of 1926 aimed at offering the reader a universal
history of art literature, albeit only in the epistolary genre: it was a story
of the universal spirit, which knows no barriers in terms of languages or
nations.
With the release
of Eckstein’s anthology 1938, one entered instead into a world whose borders
isolated Germany from the world. The intellectual contradiction was huge: also
in Eckstein’s introductory text there was the intention of identifying a
universal formal language of the arts. However, non-German artists could not
contribute to this process. In their letters, landscape painters (Geissner,
Koch) were obviously dwelling on Poussin, Lorrain and Salvator Rosa; the neoclassicals
and Nazarenes (Koch, Cornelius, Schwind) always referred to Raphael; and Gottfried
Semper wrote on new Parisian iron and glass buildings. But it was still a
closed and narrow world, limited by national linguistic boundaries. This
happened without the author never specifically showing any enthusiasm for
German art as superior to the one of France or other countries, and it was
therefore most probably an imposed choice.
Even more
paradoxical was the situation of the section on architecture, in which the
reader was offered above all texts of architects whose contents were,
explicitly, considered by Eckstein as limited and insufficient. Indeed,
choosing those texts, the author seemed to prove that 1800 was the worst period
in the history of architecture. I believe it must have been a real torture for
him spending to select, document and comment the writings of an architect like
Karl Friedrich Schinkel, for which he did not have the slightest sympathy.
Interpreting the
soul of dissidents is really hard, and as we have seen, often not without
contradictions. When reading the anthology of 1938, it is like if we saw Eckstein
playing chess with power, in a game whose outcome was undetermined, but where
there was no room for false moves.
End of Part One
Go to Part Two
End of Part One
Go to Part Two
NOTES
[1] Eckstein, Hans - Artists on art. Letters, reports, writings of German painters, sculptors and architects [Künstler über Kunst. Briefe, Berichte, Aufzeichnungen deutscher Maler, Bildhauer, Architekten], Ebenhausen – Munich, Wilhelm Langewiesche-Brandt, 1938, 267.
[2] Eckstein, Hans - Artists on art. Letters and writings of painters, sculptors and architects [Künstler über Kunst. Briefe und Aufzeichnungen von Malern, Bildhauern, Architekten], Berlin and Darmstadt, Deutsche Buch-Gemeinschaft, 1954, 278.
[3] See item: Аркин Давид Ефимович in the Russian State Archive of literature and art http://libinfo.org/index/index.php?id=112953
[4] See item: Терновец Борис Николаевич in the Russian State Archive of literature and art
[5] Мастера искусства об искусстве, Гос. изд-во изобразительных искусств, (The masters of art on art. State publisher on fine arts), Moscow, Тome One, 1933, quotation at page 6.
[6] Part one: http://digi.ub.uni-heidelberg.de/diglit/kfa1930_1931/0267.
Part two:
[7] Meister Jochen, Ein Blick für das Volk (A look for the people), in art.historicum.net.
[8] See:
[9] See:
[12] See:
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