Three photographs taken in 1933 form the only surviving evidence of the Hannover Merzbau [Fig. 3.14/3.15/3.16]. The photographs, taken by the local photographer Wilhelm Redemann from Hannover Provinzialmuseum [Provincial Museum], show three parts of the structure located in the studio room to the rear side of the ground floor flat in Waldhausenstrasse 5A [Fig. 3.7 room 1/2/3]. By framing Merzbau in three independent views, the structure is broken into three parts, the coherence of which is not immediately clear. Whether the three parts belong to the same structure, are located in the same room, or even in the same house cannot immediately be established. However, a closer study reveals identical elements along the edges of the photographic framings, and Merzbau can therefore be stitched together as one coherent work on the basis of these. Plan diagrams of the studio space outlining the location of the three parts have since been drawn to show the organisation of the continuous structure [Fig. 3.17/3.18]. What these diagrams illustrate is that Schwitters (and/or his photographer) chose a central position in the studio room when framing the work against three of its four walls. This is of some significance considering that the camera could have been directed
diagonally across the space at any preferred angle. On this basis, the thesis suggests that Merzbau was built in relation to the studio’s enclosing walls rather than organised according to its floor plan. The claim is supported by the circumstance that the central floor space was left unoccupied, un-merzed as it were, as is evident in Redemann’s photograph of Grosse Gruppe [Big Group] [Fig. 3.14]. The
implications of this observation lie in the proposition that the Hannover Merzbau was a spatially articulated wall structure, a claim the thesis returns to below [3.3].
Whether more than three photographs, attempting to frame larger sections of the structure, were produced in 1933 remains uncertain. That a fourth, in correspondence with the fourth wall of the studio, is missing from the surviving evidence is likely to be a result of the large window overlooking the garden and neighbouring Eilenriede forest dominating the room’s northern wall [Fig. 3.7]. If the window disrupted the possibility of continuing Merzbau to form a coherent structure along all four walls of the studio, the opening towards the external world for viewing and light would become an integral part of the work. Through the use of glass panels and mirrors, Schwitters created a play of reflections and views across and within the space of the studio that drew the external world inside
74
from this window.75 Besides from this utilisation of transparency and reflection, experimentation with artificial light is evident from a number of photographic details dated 1932 [Fig. 3.19]. The
photographer of these is listed as unknown in the Catalogue Raisonné published by Sprengel Museum Hannover (Schwitters 2003), yet Ernst Schwitters produced a number of artificially lit details exploring the changefulness of Merzbau’s sculptural forms in the early 1930s [Fig. 3.20]. While most of the negatives for these images appear to have been lost (Elger 1999: 9), a few survive showing dramatic and ambiguous formal juxtapositions with sculptural effects.
In comparison with the body of surviving photographic material, most of which is dated before 1933, Redemann’s three photographs have a professional, documentary quality with their neutral daylight and seemingly objective attempt to frame larger sections of the structure. The central position of the photographer, capturing the installation in at least three shots while turning on his own axis, step by step 90 degrees leaving one step out, lends objectivity almost neutrality to the captured scenes. When framing Merzbau from the central point of the studio, Redemann leaves the viewer to face the structure as if facing the façade of a building from its external side. As a result, the viewer remains in some sense outside of Merzbau although placed centrally in the studio room – trapped within the construction, yet unable to get inside of it. Several indicators of access to the structure’s interior tease with large openings calling for further exploration. There might be something within or behind – a space, a stair, a hidden object. With one’s back against the window, Merzbau becomes a horseshoe-shaped spatiality grown along or from the walls behind it.76
Photographs of Merzbau were reproduced in the French journal abstraction-création. art non figuratif in 1933 along with the text “Le Merzbau” written by Schwitters [Fig. 3.19]. They show details of the part named Grosse Gruppe [Big Group] [Fig. 3.14], and Schwitters described his studio in the text as “the construction of an interior based on sculptural forms and colours.”77 It was the first time that Schwitters used the name Merzbau for the spatial construct, and the text is a markedly different description of the work compared to earlier statements made by the artist. Two years earlier, in 1931, Schwitters published the text “Ich und meine Ziele” [Myself and My Aims] in his Merz-periodical. On that occasion, the work was described as centred around one column, Grosse Säule [Big Column]. Schwitters wrote:
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While the reflections in the glazed showcases can be identified in Redemann’s photographs, Schwitters, in a letter to a friend dated 1935, wrote that he could see the old watchtower, Döhrener Turm, through the forest reflected in a mirror in his studio (Webster 2007: 51).
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In the text “Bogen 1 für mein neues Atelier” [Sheet 1 for my new studio], dated 6 April 1938, Schwitters writes about his Lysaker Merzbau, “I oriented the main window towards the view of the moor. The house was built in response to this window, and as it turned out, it almost had a southern direction. In a sense, the studio pointed towards my old studio in Hannover. The connection was emphasised further by my last creation in Hannover. It was between Christmas and New Year 1936, Ernst was already in Norway and I worked above the Shepherd’s Bridge. Suddenly, I realised that the form emerging was a horseshoe. A horseshoe means luck and my horseshoe pointed towards the north, approximately towards the location where House on the Hill now stands. At the time, I did not yet know that I would move to Oslo.” Translated from, “Das Hauptfenster baute ich nach der Aussicht ins Moor. Das Haus wurde nach diesem Fenster orientiert, und es ergab sich, daß ich ungefähr die Südrichtung hatte. Gewissermaßen wies das Atelier nach Hannover zu meinem alten Atelier. Der Zusammenhang wird aber noch stärker durch die letzte Form, die ich in Hannover gestaltet habe. Es war zwischen Weihnachten und Neujahr 1936, Ernst war schon in Norwegen, da arbeitete ich zuletzt oberhalb des Schäfersteg. Plötzlich erkannte ich, daß die entstandene Form ein Hufeisen war. Hufeisen bedeuten Glück, und mein Hufeisen wies nach Norden, ungefähr nach der Stelle, an der jetzt das Haus am Bakken steht. Damals aber ahnte ich noch nicht, daß ich nach Oslo übersiedeln würde” (1981: 366).
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My own translation from the original text in French, “Le ‘Merzbau’ est la construction d'un intérieur par des formes plastiques et des couleurs” (354).
[The column] is first of all just one out of many, ten or so. It is called Cathedral of Erotic Misery, or in short K d e E; we are living in the era of abbreviations. Besides, it is unfinished, and that is a matter of principle. It grows somewhat following the principle of the Metropolis; somewhere a house is to be built and the planning authorities must ensure that the new house does not distort the whole cityscape.78 Following this introduction to the column K d e E, Schwitters continues with a description of his method including the grottos that have emerged within the column during its construction. Schwitters describes the different themes and objects, giving literary content to these internal spaces, and makes the statement that because he was a Dadaist when K d e E first began taking form, the literary content is Dada.79 Furthermore, during the seven years that have passed from the initiation of the work until “Ich und meine Ziele” is written and published, the column has developed in accordance with the artist’s own development. Schwitters writes:
One could say that K de E is the pure forming of all the things, with a few exceptions, that were either
important or unimportant during the last seven years of my life; in which a certain literary form,
however, has slipped in.80
He concludes the text by stating that the overall expression of Merzbau, at the time of writing, is one of Cubist painting or Gothic architecture – and, then again, perhaps not quite, as he ironically adds.81 If the impression of Merzbau based on “Ich und meine Ziele” nevertheless remains a somewhat ambiguous contour of an object rather than an interior, another short text “Das grosse E” [The Big E], possibly from 1930/31, complicates things further.82 Here, Schwitters proclaims that “Das grosse E ist fertig” [The Big E is finished] (338), Das grosse E seemingly being a new name for K d e E. And not only is it finished, contrary to the unfinished on principle set out in “Ich und meine Ziele,” but it has become “the negative function of K d e E” – “a monument to pure art. It is a non-functional
constellation of things that previously had a function. As such, it is Merz.”83 By considering the three texts chronologically, an outline of the K d e E column is drawn as one out of a number of columns in the process of transforming into a non-functional constellation of things before eventually becoming a spatial interior. The process of transformation from column (object) to interior (space), not otherwise accounted for by Schwitters or anyone else from his circle, leaves much room for speculation. The following section [3.1.2] looks further into the issue of how Merzbau might have taken form.
78
Translated from, “[Die Säule] ist zunächst nur eine von vielen, etwa von zehn. Sie heißt Kathedrale des erotischen Elends, oder abgekürzt K d e E, wir leben in der Zeit der Abkürzungen. Außerdem ist sie unfertig, und zwar aus Princip. Sie wächst etwa wie der Princip der Großstadt, irgendwo soll wieder ein Haus gebaut werden, und das Bauamt muß zusehen, daß das neue Haus nicht das ganze Stadtbild verpatzt” (343). The highlighted text in bold font corresponds to Schwitters’ original print in his periodical Merz 21 erstes Veilchenheft [Merz 21 First Book of Violets] (1931).
79
The thematic content of the grottos is discussed further in section 3.1.2 of the present chapter.
80
Translated from, “Mann könnte sagen die K de E ist die Gestaltung aller Dinge, mit einigen Ausnahmen, die in meinem Leben der letzten sieben Jahre entweder wichtig oder unwichtig waren zu reiner Form; in die sich aber eine gewisse litterarische Form eingeschlichen hat” (1981: 344). From the text “Ich und meine Ziele” (1931).
81
Schwitters wrote, “Der Gesamteindruck erinnert dann etwa an kubistische Gemälde oder an gothische Architektur (kein Bischen!)” (1981: 345), which translates into, “The overall impression then somehow resembles Cubist paintings or Gothic architecture (or perhaps not!).”
82
Das literarische Werk [The Literary Work] estimates this date based on the content of the text (423).
83
Translated from, “Es ist die Negativfunktion der K d e E. Es ist das Monument reiner Kunst. Es ist zwecklose Gestalt von Dingen, die früher einmal einen Zweck hatten. So ist es Merz” (338).
A significant number of witness accounts exist from visitors to the house in Waldhausenstrasse throughout the 1920s/30s. Insofar as Schwitters often hosted performances in the house, it became a central meeting point in Hannover for artists, gallerists, museum directors and other open-minded local residents. Schwitters’ numerous friends and acquaintances from Europe’s artistic avant-garde scene would also frequently visit the house, and one of the earliest known accounts is from Richard Huelsenbeck who visited Schwitters in 1919, as mentioned above. In his memoirs, Huelsenbeck describes what he identifies as a “tower or tree or house” with openings and internal spaces “in which Schwitters said he kept souvenirs, photos, birth dates and other respectable and less respectable data” (1991: 66). After Huelsenbeck, numerous accounts, often at odds with each other, would surface from visitors such as the artists Max Ernst, Hannah Höch, Raoul Hausmann, Hans Arp and Rudolf Jahns (Webster 2007).
A considerable correspondence took place between Schwitters, his wife Helma and their friends and colleagues. In addition, between the couple themselves when Schwitters was away from Hannover. These letters make various references to a number of columns in the process of taking form in the studio between the late 1920s/early 1930s. The earliest known reference is from a letter to the Schwitters couple’s friend Katherine S. Dreier dated 1927.84 During the 1930s, references become more frequent and eventually describe a whole room, thereby implying that the columns have begun to merge into one spatial interior. While this transition appears to occur at some point between early 1931 and mid-1932 (53), Schwitters will continue to name the room his studio until introducing the name Merzbau in the text “Le Merzbau” (1933). Among the number of people who saw the work in one stage or other of its development, it was above all Ernst and Helma who witnessed the work’s construction – not to say lived with it, if not inside of it. Ernst, who was born in 1918 and therefore a child during the early stages of the work, would become a renowned photographer, and he began taking pictures of Merzbau from an early age. While nearly all of these photographs have been lost, it is, however, owing to Ernst that a significant amount of evidence related to Schwitters’ general oeuvre has survived. As the first to preserve and archive his father’s work and documents, Ernst’s collection has since been transferred to the Sprengel Museum Hannover.
When in the summer of 1980, Ernst Schwitters was contacted by Harald Szeemann, art historian and curator of the Kunsthaus in Zurich [The Museum of Modern Art in Zurich], about the possibility of reconstructing the Hannover Merzbau, Szeeman was met with scepticism. For Ernst, endorsement of the project was on the condition that Kurt Schwitters’ first biographer, Werner Schmalenbach, would give approval. Once this came, with the caveat that the reconstruction should be labelled as
“attempted” rather than “true” (Bissegger n/d), the Swiss stage designer Peter Bissegger was
commissioned to produce a set of drawings on the basis of Redemann’s three photographs from 1933.
84
Webster makes note of a reference in the letter to a column in the studio that Schwitters has been unable to work on because of painting the house (2007: 39).
Bissegger produced the reconstruction with a small team, and the final work was first presented at the exhibition “Der Hang zum Gesamtkunstwerk” [The Propensity for the Total Work of Art], Zurich (1983). The reconstruction is based on stereometric analysis of the three photographs as well as the few surviving images by Ernst Schwitters, who followed the project closely as an advisor. Ernst established the dimensions of the studio’s floor plan as 5.80 x 3.93 m with a room height of 4.60 m. A system of coordinates based on these numbers, in which all points identified from the photographs were inserted, was then determined by Bissegger. The accuracy of the reconstruction has since been tested and verified through imitation of the photographs from 1933 with confirmation of the
proportioning as being very close to identical to the original Merzbau (Bissegger n/d) [Fig. 3.21]. While one copy of the reconstruction is installed on permanent display in Sprengel Museum Hannover, another is transportable and frequently shown in exhibition spaces across the world.85