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The History of Art
GA 292

8 November 1916, Dornach

3. Dürer and Holbein
Master of Cologne, Lochner, Schongauer, Grünewald and Cranach

The evolution of Art in Middle Europe up to the time when Dürer and Holbein entered this stream of evolution is one of the most complex problems in the history of Art. Especially in Dürer's case—to speak of all the elements that culminate in him, we have to deal with a whole series of interpenetrating impulses. Another difficult problem is the relation of this artistic evolution to that other one, the culmination of which we considered a short while ago: the Italian Renaissance, the great masters of Italy.

Needless to say, we can do no more than emphasise a few salient points. To understand what is really important in the evolution of this European Art, we must realise, above all, the existence of a peculiar talent, a peculiar activity of fancy, of imagination which had its mainsprings in Middle Europe. I mean that Central Europe which we may conceive extending approximately from Saxony to Thuringia, to the sea, to the Atlantic Ocean. Peculiar impulses of artistic fancy or imagination proceed from this region of Middle Europe. As impulses of fancy they go back into very olden times. In a certain way they were undoubtedly at work even at the time of the first spread of Christianity in the more Southern regions. These Northern impulses of the imagination stand in clear contrast to those of a specifically Southern nature. The difference is not easy to characterise, but we may describe it somehow thus: the Southern impulses of imagination are rooted in a certain power of perception for the quiet form, the form at rest, inasmuch as form, and color too, spring forth from deeper manifestations which lie hidden, in a certain sense, behind what is directly, physically perceptible. Accordingly, whatsoever the Southern imagination seeks to reproduce in Art, it tends rather to raise it above the level of the individual. It tends to raise the Individual into the Typical, the Universal, into a realm where the more special, earthly and human qualities will melt away. It is a striving to reveal how something that lies beneath the outer objects works into their forms and colors. This impulse of imagination also evolves a certain tendency to come to rest in the well balanced composition—placing the figures side by side in certain mutual relationships—a power of composition which, as you know, reaches its highest eminence in Raphael.

The Mid-European impulse of artistic fancy is of a very different kind. Tracing it back into the oldest time, we find that to begin with it makes no immediate effort to take hold of the form as such, or to achieve a restfulness of composition. Its interest is in the quick event which it portrays; it seeks to express what comes from the soul's impulses, to portray how the living Will of man expresses itself in gesture and in movement—not so much in the well-measured Form that is appropriate to human nature, but in the gesture in which the soul itself is living, in which it seeks to find expression itself as in its own sign or token. Such is the Northern impulse of artistic fancy. He who is sensitive to these things will always feel through it the working of ancient runes, where twigs or treetrunks or the like were thrown together, to express something through their positions as they fell. The sign or token, and the inner life which it contains underlies this kind of imagination, which is able, therefore, to unite itself far more with the individual expression of the soul's life; with all that springs directly from the Will-impulse of the soul. Little is left to us of what was there in olden times,—I do not mean so much as finished works of Art but as ideas of human life and cosmic processes. All this was exterminated root and branch with the spread of Christianity. Little is left of what wls contained in the old Paganism. Once more, I do not mean perfect works of plastic Art—nor will I say symbolical—but rather sign-like representations of their ideas about the world and life. If more of these things had been preserved, even the outer world would feel how the essential thing in the Northern Art is this imagination working more from within outward—from the impulses of Will and not contemplative vision. This imagination, working forth from the impulse of the Will, must be regs.rded as the fundamental note in all the cultural life that spread from the North towards the South. And, I may say, more than is generally realised, spread out in this direction. The time will come when men will see and unravel how much of these Northern impulses lies hidden, above all, in the art of the Renaissance. It is hard to recognise in the finished and extant works of Art, whether of the North, or of the South, or Spain, the true nature of the impulses that they contain. For these impulses flowed together from many quarters. Consider, for instance, all that is living in the famous “Last Supper” of Leonardo da Vinci in Milan. Compare it with the earlier pictures of the Last Supper which were derived more purely from the Southern spirit. See what dramatic life and movement he has expressed in the relations of the several figures, see the individual characters of soul which shine out of these faces. Then you will realise, working in all this, a Northern impulse that spread mysteriously towards the South. Something is here poured out, needless to say, poured out into the purely Southern imagination—albeit correspondingly toned down—which we observe again in quite another sphere in Shakespeare. For Shakespeare's figures are certainly born out of the Northern Spirit. They always express the individual human being himself, they no longer contain what comes, as it were, out of the Supersensible, using the human figure and human action like a mere instrument for its expression.

But we may go still further, my dear friends. Strange though it may sould today, if we observe Michelangelo's wonderful foreshortenings in the Sistine Chapel we cannot but realise, even in this element of movement, an impulse coming from the North. These impulses were but submerged and overlaid by Southern ones. We can see a special instance of this process in Raphael, whose imagination, growing up amid the loneliness of the Umbrian Hills, had remained, after all, more or less purely Southern. All that Raphael observed in Leonardo, in Michelangelo—influenced as they were by Northern impulses—all this he took and rounded off and ‘classicised’ if I may put it so, into his marvellous composition.

These are a few bare indications of profound problems, which if we cannot master we do not understand the medieval Art at all. For the same reason, more than elsewhere we find in the oldest extant medieval Art the expression of the word itself in signs quite naturally wedded with the plastic arts. The artistic elaboration of letters into exquisitely printed miniatures, in the biblical works created in Europe at that time, give us a feeling of something absolutely natural. In the oldest period of Christian culture we find the monks—all of whom undoubtedly absorbed Mid-European impulses—decorating their litanies and other books in this way, causing the letters, as it were, to blossom forth into miniature paintings. This was no mere external habit. It sprang straight from the feeling of an inner connection between sign and picture. The sign or token wedged its way into pictorial description, as it were. Now the ‘sign’, once again, is a direct expression of the human Will, the human life of soul. Here, therefore, we have the natural transition from that which seeks expression in sentences and words to that which flows into the painted miniature or into the sculptured ivories with which they decorate the covers of their books. Truly, in all these things there blossomed forth something that was afterwards no longer there for Mid-European Art. In every case these miniatures reveal a creation with inner life and impulse of the soul, combined with a certain naivete, a certain uncouth simplicity in respect to what the South could reproduce with such abundant skill; I mean, what lives in the Form itself, in the Form that belongs to the pure human nature before the movement and mobility expressing the individual life of the soul, works from within and pours itself into the nature of these forms. Take any of these miniatures in the old Bibles. Again and again you will see it is the artist's impulse to express, albeit through the traditional biblical figures, what he himself may have experienced in soul. A guilty conscience, for example—all such experiences of the soul are expressed magnificently in the older Mid-European miniature painting. This, as I said, is combined with great uncouthness in point of Form; I mean that human form to which man himself, through his own individuality, does not contribute, but in which the Divine and spiritual being that underlies all Nature is revealed.

Now the impulse which I have just characterised rayed out again and again from Middle Europe, and as it did so it lost itself in what was raying outward meantime from the South. It lost itself, for instance, in the spread of Christianity and Romanism. Moreover, that which rayed out from Middle Europe was fertilised in turn from the South. All that was gained from the South by way of mastery of Form and of Color, too, inasmuch as it manifests the underlying spirituality of nature, all this entered into the flower of the Northern impulse. Thus did the several impulses grow into one another, layer upon layer, interweaving.

Evolution, therefore, did not take place continuously but more or less by sudden starts. Again and again we feel impelled to ask: What would have evolved if, instead of these sudden impacts, there had been a continuous process of evolution? We have the following feeling, for example (though, needless to say, these are mere hypotheses); What would have been the outcome if that which was contained, during the early Carolingean and Ottonian periods, in the miniatures and sculptured ivories above described, had been enabled to evolve straightforwardly to a great Art? What actually took place was very different; the Romanesque and Classical carried forward on the advancing wave of Christianity, poured itself out into all this, bringing with it in architecture and in sculpture, the impulse of Form which we described just now—the Southern impulse. Then were the Northern impulse of movement and expression, and the Southern of form and color wedded to one another (though when I speak of color in the Southern impulse I must qualify once more:—Color as the manifestation of the underlying Spiritual that is expressed in Nature, not of the individual).

But there was yet another thing. We may say that with the decline of the Ottonian period the first Northern impulse came to an end. The classical and Romanesque grew into it, spreading into the tributary valleys of the Rhone and Rhine. Into these regions especially, but further afield as well, a Classical impulse found its way. The two impulses coalesced and attained their height towards the 12th and 13th centuries. Then from the West emerged another impulse, which had been preparing in the meantime. Once more, then, the impulse of contemplative Vision—the Southern impulse, properly speaking,—was wedded in mid-European Art with that impulse of movement which, as I described just now, sprang essentially from the element of Will. But meanwhile in the West a different impulse was preparing, and grew into the union of the other two, till from the 12th and 13th centuries it was completely interwoven with the united impulse which I characterised just now, raying outward from the basins of the Rhone and the Rhine. This other impulse, prepared in the West, also resulted from the flowing together of two distinct impulses. It appears in the sublime forms of the Gothic. Truly, in Gothic Art once more two impulses have come together. The one is carried thither from the North. It contains, if I may describe it so, a practicality of life, a cleverness in skill and understanding, a certain realism. It comes to Europe on the Norman waves of culture. The other impulse comes from Spain, and more especially from Southern France. Thus we have coming from the North an element of intelligence, utility and realism (but we must not confuse this with the later realism; this early realism sought to understand the Universe, the Cosmos, and wanted to see all earthly things in their connection with the heavenly). From the South, on the other hand, and concentrated most of all in Southern France, there came what we may describe as the mystical element, striving upward from the earthly realm and reaching up to Heaven. Hence the peculiar nature of the Gothic, for these two elements have grown together in it, a mystical element and an intellectual. No one will understand the Gothic who cannot see in it on the one hand this mystical element which, concentrated in the South of France, grew especially in the 9th, 10th and 11th centuries. It brings into the Gothic Art that mysterious quality of striving upward from below, while united with it, on the other hand, there is an element of cool intelligence and craftsmanship, which is never absent from the Gothic. The sublime upward striving of the Gothic forms is mystical; their interlacings, and ingenious relationships come from another quarter, adding to the mystical element the height of craftsmanship.

Thus in the Gothic the one side and the other are peculiarly united. These impulses which poured themselves into the Gothic flowed over again from the West, notably in the 12th and 13th centuries, to permeate once more the artistic creation of Mid-Europe.

But we must bear in mind another thing in this connection. It is true that in the natural course of civilisation there was always a tendency for things to interweave with one another, layer upon layer; for every impulse always tends to spread. The Classical element of Form is interwoven, for example, in the works proceeding from the Gothic. But this is only the one tendency. In Middle Europe there always remained a certain impulse of revolt which is especially to be observed in Art. Again and again, this impulse tends to bring out a strong element of Will and Movement and expression. Thus, after all, that which flows inward, both from the South and West, is ever and again more or less repelled, pushed back again. In Middle Europe they felt the Classical and in later times even the Gothic as a foreign element.

What is it, essentially, that they feel as a foreign element? It is that which in any way tends to blot out the individuality. They feel in the Roman and Classical something that is hostile to the individual. Nay, in later times they even feel in the Gothic an element beneath which the individual must groan and soffocate. In the artistic life especially, there is in Middle Europe the mood which afterwards finds expression in another sphere, in the Reformation,—a mood already voiced by spirits such as Tauler or Valentin Weigel. Perceiving how the Gothic and the Classical wedged their way into the Mid-European principle and completely overwhelmed it, we must say that in the centuries before Dürer, the Mid-European principle as such, in its own impulses, failed and fell and was unable to come forth, being overwhelmed by the other. Yet it lived on; in thoughts and feelings it was always present. It is the same element which speaks so eloquently out of the subsequent conceptions of Nature, seeking to unite with bold intelligence Heaven and Earth—seeking to comprehend all other things by laws discovered also on the Earth.

But in the heart of it all something quite different is holding sway; it comes to expression very beautifully in the words of Goethe's Faust. Imagine Faust in his study, which we may naturally conceive in Gothic forms. He has studied all that we might describe as Romanism and Classicism, Over against it all he sets the human individuality—the self-supporting individuality of man. Yet how does he contrast it? To understand how Faust opposes the human individuality to all these things in the midst of which he finds himself, we must realise that to this day there thrives almost unnoticed, in Middle Europe, something that unites this country most wonderfully with the East. When today we read or hear of the part that was played in the primeval Persian culture by light and darkness—Ormuzd and Ahriman—we take these things too abstractly. We fail to realise how the men of earlier ages stood in the midst of real and concrete forces. Real light, real darkness, in their mutual interplay, were a direct real experience to the men of former days; and this experience stood nearer to the impulse of Movement and enpression than to the Southern one of Form and composition, where things are placed in quiet balance side by side.

In the creative weaving of the World, light and darkness weave together. Influences of light and dark ray out upon all that lives and moves on Earth, as man and animal. Through light and shade, and through their mutual enhancement to the world of color, we feel the connection between the inner expression of the soul of man that flows into his movements, and something Heavenly and Spiritual which lies far nearer to this human impulse of movement than anything the Southern Art is able to express. Man walks along, man turns his head. With every step, with every turning of the head, new impulses of light and shade appear. When we study this connection between light and movement we enter into something which, as it were, links earthly Nature with the elemental. In this interplay of elemental with earthly Nature the man of Middle Europe lived with a special intensity whenever he could rise to creative fancy. Hence, though the fact has scarcely been observed as yet, color arises very differently in Middle Europe than it does in the South. Color, in the Southern Art, is color driven outward from the inner nature of the being to the surface. That which arises from the artistic imagination of Mid-Europe is cast on to the surface by the interplay of light and darkness; it is color playing over the surface of things. Many things as yet imperfectly realised will only be understood when we perceive this difference in coloring; when we perceive how on the one hand the color is cast on the object and plays over its surface, while on the other hand it surges from within the object to the surface. The latter is the Southern Art of color. Color in Mid-European art is color cast on to the surface, springing from the interplay of light and shade, glistening forth out of the weaving and willing of the light and darkness. As all these things interpenetrate, layer upon layer, the several impulses are not so easily perceived; yet they decidedly exist.

This impulse in Mid-Europe is connected in its turn with what I would call the magical element which we find in the old Persian civilisation. For the interplay of light and shade—light and darkness—is deeply connected with the ancient Persian wisdom of the Magi. Here we have the mysterious manifestations of the life of soul and spirit, as it works at the same time in man himself and in the elemental weaving of the light and shade that play around the human being. It is as though his inner being entered into a hidden relationship with the light and shade that play around him, and with the glistening life of color that springs from light and darkness. This is a thing that lies forever in the element of Will; it brings the quality of magic into connection with the feelings of the soul. And man himself, through this, comes into relation with the elemental beings—those beings who, to begin with, manifest themselves within the elements. Therefore Faust, having turned away from all the philosophic, medical, legal and theosophical studies coming to him from the South, gives himself up to magic. But in doing so he must stand firm and secure within himself. He must not be afraid of all the influences in the midst of which a man is placed when he would stand firm on his own personality alone. He must have no fear of Hell or of the Devil, he must march firmly on through light and darkness. Think how beautiful this feature is: Faust himself working and weaving in the wondrous twilight of the morning! Think how the play of light and darkness enters the famous monologue of Goethe's Faust. It is a wonderful artistic inspiration, intimately connected with the Mid-European impulse. It is equally a poem or a painting, out of the very depths of the Mid-European principle.

Here, again, we have a connection between Man and the naturalistic life and being of the Elements. This is a trait that also played its part in Mid-European conception of the Christian tradition coming upwards from the South. Like a perpetual rebellion, this element wedges itself in; this element by which Mid-Europe is akin to Asia, to an ancient Asiatic civilisation.

All these different influences play into one another; and now into the midst of all this evolution, Albrecht Dürer, an absolutely unique figure in the history of Art, comes upon the scene. Born in 1471, he died in 1526.

I have studied Dürer again and again, as an individual figure, it is true, but placed as he is in the whole context of Mid-European culture, I could never understand him in any other way. Through the infinite and countless channels whereby the unconscious life of the human soul is connected with the life and civilisation around him, Dürer is related to his environment.

We see him at an early age in his portrait of the Jungfer Furlegerie (above) bringing out the light and shade of the figure, modelling this most wonderfully. Here we already recognise the working of the impulse I described just nau. Here and throughout his life, Dürer is particularly great in expressing what arises from the above-described experience and sympathy of man with elemental Nature. He brings this element into all that he absorbs from biblical tradition. At the same time, he has great difficulty in adapting himself to the Southern element. We might say, it is a right sour task for him. How different in Leonardo's case: It seems perfectly natural to Leonardo to take up the study of anatomy and physiology, and so receive into his faculty of outward vision uhat was formerly given to a more occult sensitiveness, as I explained in the last lecture. For Dürer it is a sour task—this study of anatomy, this studious mastery of the forms in which the Divine and spiritual, transcending the individual human being, comes to expression in the human figure. It does not come natural to him to make these studied forms his min, so as to re-create the human figure, as it were, after the pattern first created by God. That is not Dürer's way. His way is rather this: to trace in all existing things the inner movement, the impulse of Will; to follow up uhat brings the human nature into direct connection with all things moving in the outer world,—with light and shade and all that lives therein. This is Dürer's kingdom. Hence he always creates out of the element of movement, whereto his oun original artistic fancy is directed.

Is it not perfectly natural for the everyday, workaday things of human life to have found their vay into the evolution of these impulses? An Art which mainly seeks to express the Divine that works in man, the Universal type that transcends the human individual,—such an Art will of its own inherent impulses be less inclined to portray uhat in the everyday life of man stamps itself upon his form and figure,—from his everyday calling, from the familiar experiences of his life. In the Mid-European Art, on the other hand, this element plays a great part, and in this respect a special impulse proceeded from the districts which we now call the Netherlands. Thence came the practical impulse, if I may call it so, permeating the artistic imagination with all that is stamped upon the human being by the familiar reality of earthly things, so that in his gestures, nay, his form and mien and physiognomy, he grow, together pith this earthly kingdom.

Such impulses flowed together in Mid-Europe, in ways most manifold; and only as we disentangle them (Which would require, of course, far more than these few abstract sketches), do we come to true understanding of what is characteristic in Mid-European Art. We shall still have to bring out many a single point; for these things cannot all be said, we can but hint at them.

We will now begin with the period when the Classical impulse grew together with the Mid-European. We shall see some of the sculptured figures in the Cathedral at Naumburg in Germany, representing individual human beings of that time.

Hermann and Regelindis (Cathedral at Naumburg)

Especially in these sculptured works, you see most beautifully combined on the one hand, the perfect striving for expressiveness of soul, and on the other hand the relatively perfect mastery of form which they had absorbed by this time from the South. You will see this especially in these sculptures of the Cathedral at Naumburg, belonging to the thirteenth century. At that time the Mid-European feeling had grown together in Mid-Europe with the power of form which they received from the Classical. While on the other hand, the same Mid-European feeling blossomed forth in the creations of Walther von der Vogelweide and Wolfram von Eichenbach. Remembering that this was the time which brought to the surface these great poets, we shall have before us a clearer picture of the stream of civilisation which was then flowing over Central Europe.

Wilhelm of Kamburg (Cathedral at Naumburg)
Count Dietmar (Cathedral at Naumburg)
The Countess Gera (Cathedral at Naumburg)
The Virgin Mary (Cathedral at Naumburg)

Wonderfully, in this work, you see the life of the soul poured out into the facial expression.

Saint John (Cathedral at Naumburg)

Intensely individual expressiveness of soul, not in the least immersed in any Universal type, is here united with a high technique of Form—a faculty which, as I said, they had received from the South.

We will now turn to works derived more out of the Gothic thinking. We will show some sculptures from the Cathedral at Strassburg.

Figures of Prophets (Main entrance, Cathedral at Strassburg)

These figures are far more adapted to the surrounding architecture than the ones we saw just now. The expression is still most decidedly determined from within, but the forming of the figures is also called forth by the surrounding architecture. We observe this feature even more if we go further West.

The Four Cardinal Virtrues (Cathedral at Strassburg)

It is characteristic of that time to represent the Church as the power that overcometh. Again and again you will find these motifs of conquered demons or the like.

Christ and the Three Wise Virgins (Cathedral at Strassburg)
The Tempter and the Three Foolish Virgins (Cathedral at Strassburg)
The Church (Cathedral at Strassburg)

The Church is represented in the figure of this woman.

This, in contrast to the Church, is the Synagogue—a blinded figure. Observe the wonderful gesture.

The Synagogue (Cathedral at Strassburg)

Please impress upon your minds not only the head with its peculiar expression, but the whole gesture of the figure. We will show the Church once more so that you may compare and see the wonderful contrast of the soul's life expressed in the two figures, Synagogue and Church.

As a further instance of the working-together of Southern and Mid-European impulses, we will now give some examples of the School of Cologne. The Cologne Master of uncertain identity, often known as the Master Wilhelm, combines great delicacy of form and line with tender intimacy of expression, as you will see in the following:

Veronica (Alto Pinakothek, Munich)

Observe, too, the lower figures, see how the forms are created out of movement and gesture. The following well-known picture of the Virgin in the Cologne Museum is by the same Master.

Madonna of the Sweet Pea (Museum at Cologne)

I beg you to observe, in all the following pictures, how these Masters love to express the life of the soul, not only in facial expression and in gesture, but especially in the whole forming of the hands. That epoch, more than any other, was working at the perfection of the hands, in relation to the inner life. I mention this especially because it is brought to a great height in Dürer who with the greatest joy portrays all that the soul can bring to expression in the hands.

In this Cologne Master, we truly see a pure permeation of the Southern element of Form with Mid-European expressiveness of the soul. We will now go on to the Master who came from Constance to Cologne, in whom the element of expression rebels once more against the element of Form, albeit this later Master learnt very much from his predecessor—from the creator of the last two pictures.

Stephen Lochner: Adoration of the Virgin by the Three Wise Men (Cathedral at Cologne)

I refer, of course, to Stephen Lochner, who, deeply rooted as he is in the Art of expression, if I may say so, adapts himself with a certain revolutionary opposition to what he learns in Cologne from the former Master and his pupils.

Stephen Lochner: Crucifixion (Nuremberg)
Madonna of the Violet (Museum at Cologne)

Here, then, ye have the works of Stephen Lochner following on those we showed just now. However closely he adapts himself to them, we see in him a new beginning—once more, a fresh creation from within. He came to Cologne in 1420. He who became more or less his teacher there—the Master of the “Veronica” and of the “Madonna of the Sweet Pea”—had died about 1410. In 1420 Stephen Lochner came to Cologne.

Stephen Lochner: Madonna amid the Roses (Museum at Cologne)

A wonderful picture by Stephen Lochner: Mary in a bower of roses. Observe the immense mobility of the figures and the attempt to bring movement into the picture as a whole. We can only reproduce it in light and shade; far more is expressed in the coloring. See the mobility that comes into the picture by the spread veil, out of which God the Father looks down on the Madonna and the Child. See how every angel does his task,—what movement this brings into the whole picture. The picture grows into a composition born out of the very movement. In the Southern impulse you have composition born of restfulness; movement comes into it only when the Northern impulse is added. Here, in this work of Stephen Lochner's, everything is inner movement from the outset.

We will now show some examples of the work of another Master—one who received strong impulses from Flanders, from the West. The Western impulses are clearly visible in him. I refer to Martin Schongauer, who lived from 1420 to 1490. Here you will see the same artistic tendency, combined, however, with the Western impulse from Flanders.

Martin Schongauer: Madonna im Rosenhag

You see how this brings in a far more realistic element.

Martin Schongauer: The Birth of Christ (Munich)
Martin Schongauer: Temptation of Saint Anthony.

This essentially visionary picture is conceived most realistically and with great individuality. It is, indeed, an extraordinarily true Imagination which enables the artist to embody in such realistic figures the human passions, the content of a temptation. Side by side with the human figure he places that which lives as a reality in the astral body when temptation comes upon us.

Matthias Grünewald: Temptation of Saint Anthony

Here, again, you have a temptation of Saint Anthony. This one, however, is by Grünewald, who lived from 1470 to 1529. In Grünewald you will admire more or less the culminating point of all that flowed together in the preceding efforts. Real individual expression is combined with great technical power. Grünewald, in many respects, is far more influenced by the Southern imagination than Schongauer. It is most interesting to compare the two “Temptations,” Their subject is the sable. We might even conceiyg,them as the Temptation which came to him on the one day in the former picture, and that which comes on the following day in this one The point is not the detailed subject but the artistic treatment as such which shows, undoubtedly, a higher perfection in this artist than in the forMer.

Martin Schongauer: The Road to Calvary (Museum at Karlsruhe)
Matthias Grünewald: Crucifixion (Colmar)

This is the central picture in the famous Isenhaimer Altar, now at Colmar. Observe, to the very smallest detail, how the characterisation always flows from the expression. Even the little animal down here partakes in the whole action. Study the flowing of the soul into the hands.

Matthias Grünewald: Temptation of St. Anthony (Colmar)

One wing of the Isenheimer Altar. Another temptation of St. Anthony, also by Matthias Grünewald.

Matthias Grünewald: St. Anthony and St. Paul in the Desert

This is the other wing of the same Altar:

Next is the Predella of the Isenheimer Altar. The representation of character in these works of Art is perfect in its kind.

Matthias Grünewald: The Entombment (Colmar)

Also a part of the same Altar-piece.

Matthias Grünewald: Resurrection of Christ (Colmar)

This, then, is Master Grünewald who represents in a certain respect the very summit of what we have seen coming over, evolving more and more, from the thirteenth century into the fifteenth, and on into the sixteenth.

We will now pass on to a different element, where with comparatively less technical ability (for in these last pictures the technical ability is very great) we find a nee effort to express what I called just now the “rebellion” in individual characterisation. We will pass on to Lucas Cranach, who, though with far less ability, brings out the expressiveness and inner life of the soul with revolutionary impulse. He shows how the soul finds outward expression even in the everyday, workaday life of man. In Lucas Cranach this impulse is especially active.

Lucas Cranach: The Fountain of Youth (Berlin)
Lucas Cranach: Virgin and Child (Darmstadt)

Here you have the purest Reformation mood, although it is a Madonna,—it is the mood of the Reformation through and through. To a high degree, the human element outweighs all other considerations. Look at the figures, both of Mother and Child, and you will see that this is so.

Lucas Cranach: Cardinal Albrecht of Brandenburg before the Crucified Christ (Alte Pinakothek, Munich)

An individual human being is painted here to show how he reveres the Christ. A personality with both feet on the ground, he expresses as a deliberate Will-impulse of the soul the reverence he feels for the Christ. The whole conception shows how this very soul comes to expression in the human feeling. The man's identity is known, it is Albrecht von Brandenburg.

Lucas Cranach: The Flight into Egypt (Berlin)
Lucas Cranach: Madonna (In the Cathedral at Glogau)
Lucas Cranach: The Crucifixion (Altar-piece at Weimar)
Lucas Cranach: Judith with the Head of Holofernes (Stuttgart)

We now come to the most eminently mediaeval artist, Albrecht Dürer.

Dürer: Portrait of Himself (Madrid)

More in the period of his youth.

Dürer: Portrait of Himself (Alte Pinakothek, Munich)

Study once more the hand; observe how the very hair is arranged to bring out the effects of light and darkness.

Here you have Dürer's Holy Trinity: Father, Son and Spirit. The conception is truly born out of the whole spirit of the age—a conception reaching far beyond all thought, and yet in some way it was mastered by that time. The conception is here worked out in Dürer's way, with his wonderful drawing. Study it carefully, and you will see how everywhere, even in his drawing, he is aiming at the light and shade, and arranges the composition accordingly.

For a definite reason we will now once more show Raphael's famous picture known as ‘Disputa,’ which is familiar to you all.

Raphael: Disputa (Vatican)

You know what is characterised in this picture: Below, the College of Theologians engaged in the study of the truths of Theology; and there bursts into this gathering the Revelation of the Trinity; Father, Son and Spirit. !le see three stages, as it were: the Spiritual Beings rising ever higher,—those who have passed through the Gate of Death, those who are never incarnated. We see the composition of the figures down below arranged quite in the Southern way; the fundamental conception of the picture is expressed in a restful composition, the various figures balanced side by side; the very movement flows into this state of rest. Now let us return again to Dürer's ‘Holy Trinity,’ painted almost at the same time as this.

Dürer: The Holy Trinity

Compare this composition with the other. Once more you have three stages, but the composition here arises out of movement. It is wonderfully contrasted with the other, the Southern composition created almost simultaneously with this. The picture is in Vienna, the coloring is very beautiful. It is quite untrue to suggest that in creating this composition Dürer was influenced in any way by anything he had received from the South. On the contrary, the Southern painters can frequently be shown to have been influenced by Northern compositions—if not by Dürer's own. Indeed, in one instance it can be historically proved:—

Raphael: Christ carrying the Cross (Prado, Madrid)
Dürer: Cross, Large Passion Woodcut
Dürer: Cross, Small Passion Woodcut

For his Crucifixion (undoubtedly a later picture), Raphael had Dürer's drawings before him. Needless to say, we make no such assertion in this case; but the idea that Dürer himself was influenced must be rejected. The motif lay in the whole spirit of the time; it existed in the widest circles, and this work of Dürer's is thoroughly a product of the Mid-European impulse.

Dürer: Twelve-year-old Jesus Among the Doctors of the Law (Palazzo Barbarini, Rome)

Here we see Dürer, too, as a master in characterisation. The picture represents Jesus among the Doctors of the Law, but needless to say, the heads of the characters are surch as the artist saw around him in his own environment.

Dürer: The Four Apostles (Pinakothek, Munich)

This is the famous picture of the four Apostles. The excellence of the picture lies in the sharp characterisation of the difference of the four Apostles, in temperament and character.

Dürer: Mourning for Christ (Pinakothek, Munich)
Dürer: Adoration of the Child

This is the center-piece of the ‘Paumgartner altar.’

Dürer: Adoration of the Magi (Uffizi. Florence)
Dürer: Study of an Old Man (Albertina. Vienna)
Dürer: Hieronymus Holzschurer (Berlin Museum)
Dürer: Hercules fighting the Stymphalian birds. (National Museum, Nuremberg)

I have inserted this picture because it shows Dürer's conception of movement,—movement proceeding directly out of the human being.

Dürer: Ritter, Tod und Teufel

This is the famous picture of the Christian knight, or, as it is often called: ‘Ritter, Tod und Teufel,’—the Knight, Death and the Devil. Observe how entirely this picture is a product out of the age. Compare it with the passage from ‘Faust’ to which I just now referred.

“Tis true, I am shrewder than all your dull tribe, Magister, doctor, priest, parson and scribe; Scruple or doubt comes not to enthral me, Neither can devil nor hell now appal me.”

There you have the character who will fear neither Death nor the Devil, but go his way straight forward through the world. So, indeed, he must be represented—the Christian knight who has revolted thoroghly against all the doctors, masters, scribes and priests that have encumbered him. He has to go his way through the world alone, fearing neither Death nor the Devil that stand across his path. He leaves them on one side, and perseveres on his way. ‘The Christian Knight’ this picture should be called. Death and the Devil stand in the way; he marches over them, passes them by unfalteringly. The same mood of the time, out of which the monologue in Goethe's "Faust" is consciously created, comes to expression in this picture by Dürer.

Dürer: St. Jerome in His Cell

Look at this thoroughly medieval room. The composition is born purely out of the light and darkness, and it is consciously intended so. Look at the light that floods the room. Placed into the light, there is the dog asleep, getting least light of all, more or less in the shade. Then the lion, as it were, a creature of more [?ill; he seems to be dreaming, and there is much light on his face. The contrast of the two animals is intentionally thus expressed in their relation to the light that falls upon them. And now contrast with these St. Jerome himself. On him the light is also falling, but at the same time he seems to ray it back again out of himself. Man and animal—saint and animal—are contrasted simply by being placed in the light. So, too, the skull. Dog and lion, saint and skull; the whole composition is ordered with respect to the light and shade.

It is like a very history of evolution, magnificently expressed by placing the different figures thus into the light. It is one of the greatest qualities in Dürer to bring out with such creative power mthe inherent force of composition that lies in the interplay of light with different objects and living creatures. Of course, the main figures do not alone make up the composition. But we must especially adraire in this picture the bringing out of the force of composition which lies inherent in the light and shade.

Dürer: Melancholia

Of course, you must not take such a statement as beyond cavil, but this picture seems placed into the world for the express purpose of showing what Dürer intended in his treatment of light and shade, his power of composition out of light and darkness. As if to show what he intends, he puts together the angular body of the polyhedron and the round sphere. In the sphere he shows how light and darkness work together; he lets the light fall on the sphere in a quite peculiar way. Having studied the distribution of the light on the sphere, you may proceed to observe how the effects of light expressed in the folds of the garment correspond to those of the spherical surface. Dürer lets them fall in such a way as to express in the arrangement of the folds all that comes to expression by way of light and shade on the simple surface of the sphere. Now let us go on to the polyhedron, and compare this in turn. According to the angle of the surface, it is light, half-dark, quite dark, and brilliantly illumined. Then he sets down a being of more fleeting form, once more in order to portray the falling of the light upon the surfaces, even as he showed it in the polyhedron. So that in every place you have the question: What says the light to this object? What says the light to this being? You may compare the effect of light and shade in every case as in the Polyhedron and in the sphere. In this picture Dürer has created a work of immense educational value. You cannot do better than use this picture if you want to teach the art of shading. Up here, to the right of the bat that carries the word, ‘melancholia,’ he lets a source of light appear—something that is self-luminous, in contrast to the reflected light expressed on all the other surfaces.

(At this point some one interposed the question: Has the picture any deeper meaning?)

Why should this not be deep enough? Why look for any deeper meaning? If you only study the magical and mysterious qualities of light in space, you will find in this a far deeper meaning than if you set to work with symbolic and mysterious interpretations. Such interpretations lead us away from the true domain of Art. Even if deeper meanings can be seen in it—as, for instance, in the table of planetary figures on the right, and other things of that kind,—it is far better simply to associate these things with the character and setting of the time. It was natural in that age to put such things as these together. But we do better to remain within the sphere of Art than to look for symbols. I even think there is considerable humour in this picture, inasmuch as the title (somewhat amateurishly translated, I admit) may be intended to convey, as a more humorous suggestion, the words, ‘black colouring.’ What he really meant with the word ‘Melancholia’ was something like ‘black coloring.’ In a rather hidden way (though, as I said, this is a little amateurish) the word may well be held to designate ‘black coloring’ or ‘blackness.’ That, at any rate, is far more likely than that it was intended to express some profound symbol. Dürer was concerned with the artistic treatment—the plastic quality, the forming of the light. Please do not think there is no depth in this plastic treatment of the light; do not look out for artificial symbolical interpretations. Is not the world deep enough if it contains such light-effects as these? They, indeed, are far deeper than any mystical contents we might hunt for in this picture because it happens to be entitled ‘Melancholia.’

Holbein: Charles de Morette (Dresden)

We now pass on to Holbein, an artist essentially different from Dürer. Born in Augsburg, he then lives in Basle, and afterwards loses himself—disappears, as it were,—in England. He is a realist in an especial sense. Even where he creates a composition, he carries his strong realism into the clement of portraiture. At the same time he strives to express what I referred to just now; the things of everyday in the life of the soul. I beg you to observe how the milieu, the calling, the whole environment in the midst of which a man is living, is stamped upon his soul and character. Holbein expresses this in a wellnigh extreme way; he seeks to draw it forth out of the soul, creating the whole human being out of the very time in which he lives.

Holbein: Self-Portrait
Holbein: Erasmus of Rotterdam (Basel)
Holbein: The Artist's Family (Basel)
Holbein: Madonna of the Burgomaster Mayer (Darmstadt)

Here, again, you have the same motive. An actual human being of the time (it is the Burgomaster of Basel, Herr Mayer, with his family) is shown worshipping the Madonna. This picture is in Darmstadt. There is a very good copy in Dresden, so good that for a long time it passed as a second version by Holbein himself. Here you will see the extreme realism of Holbein, whereas in Dürer there are those elements which we tried to characterise before—quite universal elements. I'm sorry we have no slides of Holbein's ‘Dance of Death.’ Perhaps we may show these another time, for Holbein is especially great in his treatment of the motif of Death:

In conclusion, I will show you something which, while not in direct connection with the other, belongs, nevertheless, to the same artistic context.

Holbein: Madonna (Nuremberg)

This sculpture of the Madonna, which is in Nuremburg, reveals to perfection what the Mid-European art could achieve in gesture and tenderness of feeling. It is by an unknown artist. You must imagine this Madonna, opposite her, perhaps, St. John, a great Cross with the Christ in the center; for this Madonna of Nuremberg belongs undoubtedly to a Crucifixion group. Here you have the very flower of German Art in the 16th century or perhaps a little later. Much of the tenderness in the Madonnas which we showed today will be found again in this one, especially in the unique posture.

We have tried to show you, my dear friends, all those things which, seen in the connection I have tried to indicate, bring out in clear relief the individuality of Dürer. One only learns fully to recognise Dürer when one considers him in connection with the time—his own time and the time before him. More than is generally imagined, there lives in Dürer the greatness of that impulse which led, in another sphere, to the assertion and rebellion that we associate with Faust. In Dürer, indeed, there lived, artistically speaking, a goodly piece of Faust.

Rembrandt: Doctor Faust (Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam)

You will get a real feeling of the time in which Dürer lived and out of which he was born, if you take such pictures as his ‘St. Jerome,’ his ‘Melancholia,’ and his ‘Christian Knight,’ and many another, and compare them with the mood that goes out from the first monologues of Goethe's Faust—which must, of course, be placed in the whole setting of the time, even as Goethe himself intended it. Nay, more, you could compare Dürer's ‘St. Jerome’ with certain actual pictures of Faust and you would find a real connecting link. When I spoke of Dürer's creating out of light and shade, I certainly did not mean it in a banal sense. Needless to say, anyone who wishes to imitate some fragment of reality can work out of the light and shade. This is one of the most characteristic features in Dürer, while on the other hand he also has in him the longing for individual characterisation which is so remarkably expressed in his ‘Heads of Apostles.’

Dürer: Heads of the Apostles

We have thus tried to bring before you a few of the important points in the old Christian Art. On the next occasion we shall refer to some others which entered the main stream here or there. Then we shall see the whole in its totality.

3. Deutsche Plastik und Malerei bis zu Dürer und Holbein. Raffael

Grundlagen zum Verständnis des mitteleuropäisch-nordischen Kunstimpulses. Gegensatz und Zusammenhang der mitteleuropäisch-nordischen und der südlichen Kunst:

Die Entwickelung der Kunst in Mitteleuropa bis zu jener Zeit herauf, in der Dürer und Holbein sich hineinstellen in diese Entwickelung, bedeutet eines der allerverwickeltsten Probleme der Kunstgeschichte; denn man hat es gerade beim Studium alles desjenigen, was in Dürer - namentlich in Dürer - gipfelt, zu tun mit einer ganzen Reihe übereinandergeschichteter, ineinandergeschichteter Kunstimpulse. Und ein weiteres schwieriges Problem ist die Beziehung dieser Kunstentwickelung zu derjenigen, deren Höhe wir im zweiten Vortrag betrachtet haben, zu der italienischen Renaissance und ihren großen Meistern.

Wenn man verstehen will, worum es sich in der europäischen Kunstentwickelung eigentlich handelt -— wir können heute selbstverständlich nur einige Gesichtspunkte hervorheben -, so muß man vor allen Dingen das Vorhandensein einer besonders angelegten Phantasiewirkung ins Auge fassen, die ausgeht vom mittleren Europa, von jenem Europa, das man denken kann, sagen wir von Sachsen, Thüringen bis zum Meer, bis zum Atlantischen Ozean, also besondere Phantasie-Impulse, die von da ausgehen und die als PhantasieImpulse in ziemlich alte Zeiten zurückgehen, jedenfalls schon wirksam waren in einer gewissen Weise, als im Süden das Christentum sich ausbreitete. Diese Phantasie-Impulse stehen durchaus im Gegensatz zu jenen Phantasie-Impulsen, welche spezifisch südlicher Natur sind. Und es ist nicht leicht, die Differenz der beiden Phantasie-Impulse zu charakterisieren. Man kann etwa sagen: Der südliche Phantasie-Impuls wurzelt in einer gewissen Auffassung der ruhigen Form, in der Art, wie diese ruhige Form und auch die sich offenbarende Farbe herausentspringen aus, man möchte sagen den Offenbarungen, die in gewissem Sinne doch hinter dem unmittelbar Wahrnehmbaren, hinter dem Physischen liegen. Daher strebt diese südliche Phantasie nach Heraushebung des künstlerisch Wiederzugebenden aus dem Individuellen, nach Emporhebung des Individuellen zum Typischen, zum Allgemeinen, zu demjenigen, in dessen Bereich das speziell Irdische, das speziell Menschliche verschwindet. Ein Bestreben liegt vor, zu zeigen, wie das hinter den Dingen Liegende in die Form, in die Farben der Dinge hereinwirkt. Und verbunden ist mit diesem Phantasieimpuls ein Wurzeln in der Ruhe des Kompositionellen, in dem Nebeneinanderstellen, in dem Zueinander-in-Verhältnisse-Bringen, welche kompositionelle Kraft ja dann ihren Höhepunkt erreicht gerade bei Raffael.

Ganz anders geartet ist der mitteleuropäische Phantasie-Impuls. Der geht zunächst überhaupt nicht, wenn wir auf die ältesten Zeiten zurückblicken, unmittelbar aus auf die Auffassung der Form oder auf die Auffassung des Ruhig-Kompositionellen, sondern er geht hauptsächlich aus auf die Begebenheit, auf die Äußerung desjenigen, was aus seelischen Impulsen kommt, er geht darauf aus, wie sich des Menschen Wollen ausdrückt in der Geste, in der Bewegung, wie sich des Menschen Wollen ausdrückt — mehr als durch die der Menschenwesenheit selbst angemessene Form - durch das Zeichen, in dem die Seele lebt. Und indem die Seele sich als in ihrem Zeichen ausdrücken will, liegt darin der Phantasieimpuls des Nordens. Wer eine Empfindung für solche Dinge hat, merkt in diesem Phantasie-Impuls überall durch, ich möchte sagen die Wirksamkeit der alten Runen, wo zusammengeworfen werden Baumstäbchen oder dergleichen, um in ihrem Zusammenfallen etwas auszudrücken. Das Zeichen und das Vorhandensein des Lebens im Zeichen, das ist es, was dieser Art von Phantasie zugrunde liegt. Daher kann sich diese Art von Phantasie mehr verbinden mit dem, was individueller Ausdruck des Seelischen ist, was aus dem unmittelbaren Willensimpuls des Seelischen heraustritt. Würde mehr von demjenigen erhalten sein, was dann, nicht gerade an Werken der bildenden Kunst, aber an Anschauungen über Menschenleben und Weltverhältnisse ausgerottet worden ist durch das sich ausbreitende Christentum, mit Stumpf und Stiel ausgerottet worden ist, würde namentlich auch mehr von dem vorhanden sein, was das alte Heidentum hatte, allerdings nicht an vollendeten Werken der Bildekunst, aber an, ich will nicht sagen symbolischen, aber zeichenmäßigen Darstellungen dessen, was man über Welt und Leben dachte, dann würde man auch in der äußeren Welt ein starkes Gefühl davon bekommen, wie im Norden die mehr von innen heraus, vom Willensimpuls — nicht vom Anschauungsimpuls — aus wirkende Phantasie das Wesentliche ist. Diese aus dem Willensimpuls heraus wirkende Phantasie, die müssen wir doch gewissermaßen als den Grundton alles dessen betrachten, was vom Norden an Kultur sich ausbreitete nach dem Süden hin. Und mehr als man glaubt, hat sich in dieser Weise ausgebreitet. Wird einmal entwirrt werden, was eigentlich alles gerade in der Renaissance-Kunst an Impulsen steckt, die vom Norden her kommen, so wird man erst sehen, wie man an den heute vorliegenden fertigen Kunstwerken weder des Nordens noch des Südens oder Spaniens sehen kann, welches eigentlich die Impulse sind; denn die sind zusammengeflossen. Und wenn man zum Beispiel studiert, was lebt in Lionardos «Abendmahl» in Mailand, wenn man studiert, wie da gegenüber früheren, mehr aus dem südlichen Geist heraus geborenen «Abendmahlen» dramatisches Leben, dramatische Bewegung hineinkommt in den Zusammenhang der Gestalten und wie Individuell-Seelisches aus den Antlitzen spricht, dann muß man sich klar sein, daß darin der auf geheimnisvolle Weise nach Süden sich ausbreitende nordische Impuls wirkt. Es ist, in entsprechender Abschwächung selbstverständlich, schon durchaus das eingegossen in die rein südliche Phantasie, was dann wieder zu beobachten ist auf einem ganz anderen Gebiete bei Shakespeare, dessen Gestalten durchaus aus nordischem Geiste heraus geboren sind, weil sie auf den Menschen selbst gestellte Wesenheit zum Ausdrucke bringen, so daß nicht mehr in ihnen das enthalten ist, was sich wie aus dem Übersinnlichen heraus nur durch die menschliche Gestalt und das menschliche Tun wie durch ein Mittel zum Dasein bringt.

Ja, selbst wenn wir in der Sixtinischen Kapelle Michelangelos wunderbare Verkürzungen beobachten, so müssen wir uns — so paradox das heute erscheinen mag - klar sein, daß dieses Bewegungselement durchaus auch bei Michelangelo einem Stoß entspricht, welcher vom nordischen Impulse her kommt; nur sind diese nordischen Impulse dann eben wiederum überwuchert worden von den südlichen. Und ein besonderes Beispiel, wie vom Südlichen das Nordische überwuchert worden ist, sehen wir ja darin, wie Raffaels doch ganz mehr oder weniger südlich gebliebene Phantasie, die in der Einsamkeit der umbrischen Berge sich entwickelt hat, alles das, was er beobachten kann an Lionardo, an Michelangelo, in die das Nordische hineingewirkt hat, rundet und wiederum in das Kompositionelle hinein, man möchte sagen romanisiert.

Das sind einige abstrakte Andeutungen über tiefgehende Probleme, ohne deren Bewältigung die Kunst des Mittelalters überhaupt nicht verstanden werden kann. Daher kommt es auch, daß mehr als anderswo in der allerältesten erhaltenen Kunst des Mittelalters das, was durch das «Zeichen» ausdrückt das Wort, sich auf naturgemäße Weise mit der bildenden Kunst verbindet. Man hat ein unmittelbares Gefühl von dem ganz Natürlichen des künstlerischen Ausgestaltens des Buchstabens zum malerischen Kleinkunstwerke in den Bibelwerken, welche in Europa geschaffen werden. Wenn in den älteren Zeiten der christlichen Kultur die Mönche, die alle Impulse Mitteleuropas doch aufgenommen haben, ihre Meßbücher, ihre sonstigen Bücher so gestalten, daß sie den Buchstaben gleichsam aufblühen lassen zum Miniaturbildchen, so ist das nicht bloß etwas Äußerliches, sondern es ist entsprungen dem Gefühl, der Empfindung des inneren Zusammenhanges zwischen Zeichen und bildhafter Darstellung. Das Zeichen hat sich gleichsam hineingeschoben in die bildhafte Darstellung. Und da das Zeichen wiederum der Ausdruck des menschlichen Wollens, des menschlichen Seelischen ist, so ist ein naturgemäßer Übergang von dem, was in dem Wortzusammenhange sich ausdrückt, zu dem, was in das Miniaturbildchen hineinfließt, ja selbst zwischen dem, was im Wortzusammenhang ausgedrückt ist, und dem, was in den alten elfenbeinernen Skulpturen, welche die Bücherdeckel zieren, enthalten ist. Darin ist wirklich eine Blüte von Nicht-mehr-Vorhandenem für die mitteleuropäische Kunst zum Ausdruck gekommen. Und überall zeigt das, was in den Miniaturen zum Ausdrucke kommt, das Schaffen aus dem Inneren, Seelischen heraus, ich möchte sagen gepaart mit einer gewissen Naivität in dem Wiedergeben desjenigen, was im Süden so groß ist, dessen, was in der Form lebt, in der Form, die der Menschenwesenheit eigen ist, ohne daß die vom Inneren, vom Seelischen heraus bewirkte Bewegung und Beweglichkeit, ohne daß der Ausdruck des Individuell-Seelischen sich in das Formwesen hinein ergießt. Man kann alte Evangelienbücher nehmen und an dem, was die Miniaturbildchen darstellen, sehen, wie man - gewiß sich anlehnend an biblisch überlieferte Figuren überall ausdrücken will, was man selbst seelisch erfahren hat. Böses Gewissen und ähnliche seelische Innen-Erfahrungen, die kommen in einer großartigen Weise in der älteren mitteleuropäischen Miniaturmalerei zum Ausdruck. Sie sind ja gepaart mit einer großen Naivität in bezug auf die eigentliche Formgebung, in bezug auf die Formgebung, zu der der Mensch selber durch seine Individualität nichts hinzutut, sondern in der sich offenbart, man möchte sagen das hinter den Dingen stehende Göttlich-Geistige. Aber die Sache ist so, daß dieser Impuls, den ich charakterisiert habe, gleichsam immer ausstrahlt von Mitteleuropa und sich in seiner Ausstrahlung verliert in demjenigen, was sich vom Süden ausbreitete. Er verliert sich in das sich ausbreitende Christentum hinein; er verliert sich in den sich ausbreitenden Romanismus hinein und so weiter. Gleichzeitig aber auch wird dasjenige, was da von Mitteleuropa sich ausbreitet, wiederum vom Süden her befruchtet, so daß sich das, was an Bewältigung der Form und der aus dem Geistig-Naturgemäßen heraus sich offenbarenden Farbe vom Süden her gewonnen wird, einlebt in das, was nun Blüte der nordischen Impulse ist. Es wächst ineinander, es verschichtet sich, verwebt sich.

So sehen wir, daß die Entwickelung nicht eigentlich kontinuierlich vor sich geht, sondern mehr oder weniger stoßweise. Und man hat immer das Gefühl: Was wäre denn geworden, wenn nicht stoßweise Entwickelung eingetreten wäre, sondern kontinuierliche? - Man kann zum Beispiel das Gefühl haben, was geworden wäre, wenn im Norden in gerader Linie - selbstverständlich sind das Hypothesen, die nichts besagen, aber solch ein Gefühl kann man bekommen -, was geworden wäre, wenn sich in gerader Linie das zur Großkunst hätte entwickeln können, was in den Miniaturbildchen, in den Elfenbeinskulpturen, welche Bücherdeckel zieren, zuerst enthalten war während der karolingischen Zeit, während der ottonischen Zeit? — Aber da hinein ergießt sich nun alles dasjenige, was auf der Woge des Christentums mitgetragen wird als das romanische Element. Und dieses romanische Element bringt in Architektur, in Skulptur durchaus jenen Formimpuls, von dem ich gesprochen habe, den südlichen Formimpuls. Und da geschieht die Ehe zwischen dem nordischen Bewegungsimpuls, Ausdrucksimpuls, und dem südlichen Formimpuls, Farbenimpuls, aber so als Farbenimpuls, wie ich ihn bezeichnet habe, so daß die Farbe Offenbarung dessen ist, was naturgemäß geistiger Ausdruck, nicht individueller Ausdruck, ist.

Nun verknüpft sich aber damit noch etwas anderes. Wir können sagen, daß mit dem Abfluten der ottonischen Zeit ein erster nordischer Impuls aufhört, in den der romanische Impuls hineinwächst, sich ausdehnt in alle die Gegenden hinein, welche durchflossen werden von den Nebenflüssen der Rhone, des Rheins. Dahinein besonders, aber auch noch weiter darüber hinaus, dehnt sich ein romanischer Impuls, erfolgt ein vollständiges Zusammenwachsen der beiden Impulse - sagen wir zunächst: wachsen -, was seinen Höhepunkt erreicht bis gegen das 12., 13. Jahrhundert hin, wo von Westen herübertaucht ein anderer Impuls, der nun hineinkommt, der sich dort schon vorbereitet hat. Man kann sagen: Der Impuls der Anschauung, der der eigentlich südliche Impuls ist, verbindet sich in der mitteleuropäisch-romanischen Kunst mit dem Bewegungsimpuls, wie ich ihn charakterisiert habe, mit jenem Bewegungsimpuls, der im Grunde genommen aus dem Willenselement heraus kommt.

Im Westen bereitet sich während der Zeit etwas anderes vor, das dann hereinwächst und vollständig zur Durchdringung wird vom 12., 13. Jahrhundert ab mit dem, was ich eben charakterisiert habe als in den Tälern der Flußgebiete der Rhone, des Rheins sich ausdehnend. Das, was da im Westen sich vorbereitet, ist etwas, was wiederum selber zusammenfließt aus zwei Impulsen. Und der Zusammenfluß dieser zwei Impulse stellt sich dar in den erhabenen gotischen Formen. Da fließen nun wirklich wiederum zwei Impulse zusammen: ein Impuls, der eigentlich wie vom Norden hergetragen wird, ein Impuls, welcher in sich schließt, ich möchte sagen Lebenspraxis, Verstand, Verständigkeit, Realismus des Lebens; das kommt auf den Wogen in Europa an, welche kulturell nach Europa tragen die Normannen. Damit verbindet sich dasjenige, was von Spanien, namentlich aber von Südfrankreich aus wirkt. Ist es vom Norden her kommend das Verständige, das Praktische, das Realistische - aber ein Realistisches, das man nicht verwechseln darf mit dem Realistischen der späteren Zeit, ein Realistisches, das durchaus noch auf Weltverstand ausgeht und das Irdische im Zusammenhang denken will mit dem Himmlischen -, so kommt vom Süden her, konzentrierter möchte ich sagen, in Südfrankreich, alles dasjenige, was man nennen kann das mystische Element, das von dem Irdischen himmelanstrebende mystische Element. Und diese zwei Elemente, die wachsen zusammen. Und das ist gerade das Eigentümliche des Gotischen, daß diese beiden Elemente zusammenwachsen: ein mystisches Element und ein verstandesmäßiges Element. Niemand wird die Gotik verstehen, der nicht in ihr zu sehen vermag auf der einen Seite das mystische Element, das in Südfrankreich wie konzentriert ist, im 9., 10., 11. Jahrhundert besonders zur Ausbildung kommt und in die Gotik hineinträgt das von unten nach oben geheimnisvoll Strebende. - Dabei ist aber mit dem Gotischen verbunden ein anderes Element: das Einströmen des Handwerksmäßig-Verständigen, des Nüchternen. Wie die gotischen Formen aufstreben, das hat etwas Mystisches; wie sie gefügt werden, wie sie gebunden und verbunden werden, das, möchte ich sagen, verbindet äußerstes Handwerksmäfßßiges mit dem Mystischen. In der Gotik verbindet sich in merkwürdiger Weise die eine mit der anderen Seite. Und dies, was da in die Gotik einströmt, das strömt dann im 12., im 13. Jahrhundert namentlich vom Westen herüber und durchdringt wiederum auch das mitteleuropäische künstlerische Schaffen. Dabei muß man sich immer klar sein, daß zwar durch den Lauf der Kultur die Tendenz vorhanden ist, diese Dinge miteinander zu verweben, diese Dinge ineinander zu schichten - alles will sich ja immer ausbreiten - so daß sich in die romanische Formgebung Werke hineinschieben, welche aus dem Gotischen stammen. Aber das ist nur die eine Tendenz.

Es bleibt immer vorhanden in Mitteleuropa ein revoltierendes Element, ein revoltierender Impuls, der besonders in der Kunst stark zu bemerken ist, und der immer darauf ausgeht, das Willenselement, das Bewegungselement, das Ausdruckselement mächtig zu gestalten, so daß das, was hereinkommt sowohl vom Süden wie vom Westen, mehr oder weniger doch immer wiederum zurückgedrängt wird. Man empfindet das Romanische und später sogar das Gotische als fremdes Element in Mitteleuropa.

Was empfindet man da als fremdes Element? — Das, was das Individuelle nach irgendeiner Weise vernichten will. Das Romanische empfindet man als den Feind des Individuellen; aber selbst das Gotische empfindet man später als dasjenige, unter dem das Individuelle seufzt und keucht. Es ist die Stimmung im Künstlerischen ganz besonders vorhanden, die ja noch in einem anderen Gebiete - in der Reformation - zum Ausdruck gekommen ist, die schon zum Ausdruck gekommen ist in solchen Geistern wie Tauler oder Valentin Weigel. Das alles ergibt - wenn wir sehen, wie sich Gotik, wie sich Romanismus hineingeschoben haben in das mitteleuropäische Wesen, es vollständig überwuchert haben -, daß nun wirklich in den Jahrhunderten vor Dürer das mitteleuropäische Wesen in einer gewissen Weise als solches in seinen eigenen Impulsen verfällt, nicht aufkommen kann, wie es nicht herauskann, wie es von dem anderen vollständig überwuchert wird. Aber es lebt fort. Es lebt fort in den Gedanken, in den Empfindungen, in den Gefühlen. Es ist immer da, es sind vielleicht keine Künstler da, die es besonders zum Ausdrucke bringen; aber es ist immer da. Es ist dasselbe Element da, welches aus der späteren Naturanschauung spricht, die in verständlicher Weise den Himmel mit der Erde verbinden will, das heißt: durch auch auf der Erde gefundene Gesetze alles andere begreifen will.

Es waltet aber in diesem noch etwas ganz anderes darinnen, und man kann sagen: es ist in schöner Weise zum Ausdrucke gekommen, was da waltet, in Worten, die Goethe gesprochen, niedergeschrieben hat. Denken Sie sich Faust in seinem Studierzimmer, das ja wohl gotisch zu denken ist. Aber studiert hat er alles dasjenige, was als Romanismus zu bezeichnen ist. Dem stellt er gegenüber die menschliche Individualität, die rein auf sich gestellte menschliche Individualität. Diese menschliche Individualität aber, wie stellt er sie gegenüber? Wenn man verstehen will, wie Faust gegenüberstellt die menschliche Individualität dem, in das er da hineingestellt ist, so mußß man berücksichtigen, daß, ich möchte sagen heute fast unvermerkt, in Mitteleuropa etwas fortwaltet, was Mitteleuropa in einer grandiosen Weise verbindet mit dem Osten, wirklich in einer grandiosen Weise mit dem Osten verbindet. Wenn man heute so liest oder hört, wie in der urpersischen Kultur Licht und Finsternis, Ormuzd Ahriman eine Rolle gespielt haben, so nimmt man das viel zu abstrakt. Man denkt nicht daran, wie im Konkreten, im Realen die Menschen früherer Zeiten darinnen gestanden haben. Reales Licht und reale Finsternis in ihrem Zusammenwirken waren wirklich für den Menschen früherer Zeiten Erlebnis, und dieses Erlebnis stand näher dem Moment, dem Impulse der Beweglichkeit, des Ausdruckes als dem südlichen Form- und kompositionellen Impuls des Nebeneinanderstellens. Wie im Weben der Welt ineinanderweben Licht und Finsternis, wie Licht und Finsternis ihre Wirkungen werfen auf dasjenige, was da wandelt als Mensch und Tier auf der Erde, das ergibt einen gerade in Licht und Finsternis empfundenen und dann von Licht und Finsternis aus sich zum Farbigen steigernd empfundenen Zusammenhang zwischen dem, was im Menschen seelischer Ausdruck ist und in die Bewegung fließt, und demjenigen, was, ich möchte sagen näher liegt diesem menschlichen Bewegungsimpuls vom Himmlisch-Geistigen als dasjenige, was die südliche Kunst zum Ausdruck bringen kann. Der Mensch schreitet dahin; der Mensch dreht sein Haupt. Mit jedem Dahinschreiten, mit jedem Drehen des Hauptes treten andere Licht- und Schattenimpulse ein. In der Anschauung des Zusammenhanges zwischen Bewegung und Licht liegt gleichsam etwas, was die irdische Natur an die elementarische kettet. Und in diesem Ineinanderspielen des Elementarischen mit dem unmittelbar Irdischen, da lebte die Phantasie des mitteleuropäischen Menschen in einer ganz besonders starken Weise immer darinnen, wenn er sich zur Phantasie hinaufentwickeln konnte.

Daher entsteht auch, was bis heute wenig beachtet worden ist, in einer ganz anderen Weise die Farbe in Mitteleuropa als die Farbe im Süden. Die Farbe im Süden ist aus dem Inneren des Naturwesens herausgetriebene Farbe, an die Oberfläche getriebene Farbe. Die Farbe, die in Mitteleuropa für die Phantasie entstand, ist doch von dem Hell-Dunkel geworfene Farbe, auf die Oberfläche geworfene Farbe, auf der Oberfläche spielende Farbe. Erst dann wird man vieles begreifen, was heute noch nicht gut verstanden wird, wenn man den Unterschied begreift, der in der Farbengebung besteht, wenn man anschaut, wie die Farbe hingeworfen wird auf das Objekt, und wie sie aus dem Objekt selbst, aus dem Inneren des Objektes an die Oberfläche kommt, die Farbe, die dann zur künstlerischen Farbe des Südens geworden ist. Die hingeworfene Farbe, die aus dem Hell-Dunkel gewordene Farbe, die aus dem wellenden, wogenden Hell-Dunkel erglitzernde Farbe, das ist die mitteleuropäische Farbe. Da sich die Dinge überall ineinanderschieben und übereinanderschichten, so sind diese Impulse eben weniger beobachtbar; aber sie sind durchaus vorhanden.

Sehen Sie, dies wiederum verbindet sich in Mitteleuropa mit, ich möchte sagen dem magischen Elemente, wie sich in der persischen Kultur selber HellDunkel, Licht-Finsternis mit dem persischen Magiertum verbunden hat. Die geheimnisvollen Äußerungen des seelisch-geistigen Wesens, wie sie gleichzeitig im Menschen spielen, aber auch spielen in dem elementarischen Wirken und Wogen des Hell-Dunkels, wie sie den Menschen umspielen und wie sie zusammenwirken, indem sein Inneres in eine verborgene Verwandtschaft tritt mit demjenigen, was ihn als Hell-Dunkel und als aus dem Hell-Dunkel erglitzerndes Farbenwesen umspielt, das ist es, was das Willenselement immerdar in sich birgt und was anknüpft an das Magische dasjenige, was die Seele empfindet. Dadurch aber kommt der Mensch auch mit den elementarischen Wesen, mit denjenigen Wesen, die sich zunächst im Elementarischen offenbaren, in einen Zusammenhang. Deshalb hat sich Faust der Magie ergeben, nachdem er sich von dem vom Süden her kommenden philosophischen, medizinischen, juristischen, theologischen Elemente losgesagt hat. Aber er muß sich auf sich selbst stellen; er darf sich nicht fürchten vor dem, in das man hineingestellt ist dadurch, daß man sich auf die Persönlichkeit stellt. Er darf sich nicht fürchten vor Hölle und Teufel; muß schreiten durch Hell und Dunkel. Aber er wirkt ja selbst und webt - denken Sie, wie schön! - im webenden Morgenlichte. Wie dieses Hell-Dunkel in die Faust-Monologie hineinspielt, das ist etwas geradezu Wunderbares. Das ist aber durchaus etwas, was mit dem mitteleuropäischen Impulse ganz innig zusammenhängt; das ist, ich möchte sagen ebenso gemalt wie gedichtet aus dem mitteleuropäischen Wesen heraus.

Dadurch aber ergibt sich wiederum ein Zusammenhang des Menschen mit dem naturalistischen, elementarischen Wesen. Und dieser Zug, der schiebt sich hinein auch in die Auffassung dessen, was nun mit den christlichen Überlieferungen vom Süden her kommt, das revoltiert hinein, was Mitteleuropa verwandt macht mit Asien, bis in die alte asiatische Kultur hinüber. Das sind Dinge, die da ineinanderspielen. Und in diese Entwickelung ist dann - man möchte sagen wie eine ganz einzigartige Gestalt - Dürer hineingestellt; 1471 ist er geboren, 1528 stirbt er.

Ich konnte niemals Dürer anders verstehen, wenn ich ihn verfolgte, denn als eine allerdings individuelle Gestalt, hineingestellt in die ganze mitteleuropäische Kultur, die aber auch durch unendlich zahlreiche unbewußte Kanäle, durch die das Seelenleben mit dem umliegenden Kulturleben verbunden ist, eben in Zusammenhang steht mit diesem umliegenden Kulturleben. Wenn Dürer schon ganz früh [1497] beginnt, in dem Porträt der «Jungfer Fürlegerin»

272 Albrecht Dürer Katharina Fürlegerin

in seiner Art wunderbar auszumodellieren Hell und Dunkel auf der Figur, so muß man darin durchaus eine Wirkung des eben geschilderten Impulses sehen. Und das geht durch Dürers ganzes Leben, so daß Dürer ganz besonders groß ist dort, wo er das zum Ausdruck bringen will, was er aus diesem Miterleben, aus diesem ganz besonders gearteten Miterleben der elementarischen Natur heraus zum Ausdruck bringt. Das trägt er hinein auch in das, was er als Biblisch-Überliefertes aufnimmt. Und heillos schwierig wird es ihm doch, sauer möchte man sagen, sich anzupassen dem südlichen Elemente. Während wir bei Lionardo empfinden, wie naturgemäß es ihm ist, das Studium des Anatomischen, des Physiologischen aufzunehmen, um dadurch in die Anschauung hereinzubekommen, was früher einem mehr okkulten Erfühlen gegeben war, wie ich es Ihnen neulich ausgeführt habe, so sehen wir, wie dasselbe Studium des Anatomischen Dürer recht sauer wird. Er findet sich niemals ganz besonders stark in diese Art hinein, gewissermaßen die erstudierten Formen, in denen sich das Außermenschliche, Göttlich-Geistige durch den Menschen ausdrückt, so sich anzueignen, daß er nun seinerseits die Menschenformen aus dem, ich möchte sagen: was Gott erschaffen hat, herausschaffen würde. Das ist nicht seine Art. Seine Art ist vielmehr die Beweglichkeit, die Willensimpulse in dem Daseienden zu verfolgen und das, was unmittelbar die menschliche Natur in Zusammenhang bringt mit dem Beweglichen draußen, mit dem HellDunkel und mit dem, was im Hell-Dunkel lebt. Das ist sein Reich. Daher schafft er eben aus der Beweglichkeit heraus, worauf seine ursprüngliche Phantasie gerichtet ist. Dadurch aber ist es schon gegeben, daß in die Entwikkelung dieser Impulse auch hineinkommt das alltägliche Menschenleben. Eine Kunst, welche vorzugsweise das im Menschen wirkende Göttliche, das Übermenschlich-Typische ausdrücken will, eine solche Kunst wird weniger Wert darauf legen, durch ihre eigenen Impulse das im Menschen auszudrücken, was er im alltäglichen Leben aus dem Berufe heraus, aus den unmittelbaren Lebenserfahrungen heraus sich einprägt in seine Gestalt. Das aber ist bei der mitteleuropäischen Kunst der Fall, und in dieser Beziehung geht noch ein besonderer Impuls aus von den Gegenden der heutigen Niederlande. Dorther kommt der besonders praktische Impuls, möchte ich sagen, das Durchdringen der Phantasie mit demjenigen, was die unmittelbare irdische Wirklichkeit dem Menschen aufdrückt, ihn zusammenwachsen läßt in seiner Geste, selbst in seiner Form, Miene, Physiognomie mit dem Irdischen.

Solche Impulse fließen in Mitteleuropa zusammen in der mannigfaltigsten Weise. Und nur, wenn man sie entwirrt - man muß natürlich dann viel mehr tun als das, was ich heute mit einigen abstrakten Strichen andeute —, kommt man zu einem Verständnis gerade des Charakteristischen der mitteleuropäischen Kunst. Wir werden einzelnes noch andeuten; es läßt sich ja nicht alles sagen, sondern immer nur andeuten.

Jetzt wollen wir unseren Ausgangspunkt nehmen zuerst von dem Zeitalter, in dem, ich möchte sagen der romanische Zug zusammengewachsen ist mit dem mitteleuropäischen Impulse, indem wir uns die Gestalten, die am Naumburger Dom, an dem deutschen Naumburger Dom sich finden, ansehen: Skulpturwerke, welche ausdrücken Menschen der damaligen Zeit.

349 Naumburger Dom Stifter im Westchor: Hermann und Reglindis

Sie sehen gerade an diesen Skulpturwerken in der schönsten Weise zusammenwachsen seelischen Ausdruck, der erstrebt wird mit einer hohen Vollendung - denn das ist ja die Blütezeit -, mit dem, was man vom Süden her in der Formgebung bekommen hat. Das werden Sie insbesondere sehen an diesen Skulpturwerken des Naumburger Domes, die aus dem 13. Jahrhundert sind und der Zeit angehören, in welcher spielt für Mitteleuropa ebenso dieses Zusammenwachsen mitteleuropäischer Empfindung mit dem, was aus dem romanischen Elemente heraus an Formgebung aufgenommen worden ist, wie auf der anderen Seite zur selben Zeit herauswächst dieses mitteleuropäische Empfinden in den Schöpfungen Walthers von der Vogelweide, Wolframs von Eschenbach. Wenn wir zusammenhalten, daß das ja die Zeit ist, die auch die genannten Persönlichkeiten des dichterischen Schaffens an die Oberfläche getrieben hat, dann haben wir eigentlich ein Bild der Strömung, der Kulturströmung, die da über Mitteleuropa geht.

Naumburger Dom, Westchor

350 Wilhelm

352 Gepa

351 Dietrich

353 Maria (Westlettner)

Es ist gerade an solch einer Leistung (353) in wunderbarer Weise zu sehen dieses ins Antlitz hineingegossene Seelische. Auch vom Westlettner des Naumburger Doms:

354 Naumburger Dom, Westlettner Johannes

Gerade der individuell seelische Ausdruck, ohne übergossen zu sein von irgendwie Typischem, vereinigt sich hier mit einer hohen technischen Vollendung in bezug auf die Formgebung, die eben aus dem Südlichen kommt.

Und nun lassen wir auf uns wirken Dinge, die mehr herausgeboren sind aus dem gotischen Denken, aus dem gotischen Auffassen, Skulpturen des Straßburger Münsters:

355 Straßburger Münster Prophet

Mehr als das andere sind diese Figuren angepaßt der ganzen Architektur. Man möchte sagen: Der Ausdruck ist hier durchaus aus dem Inneren heraus gestaltet; die ganze Gestaltung der Figuren ist aber mit hervorgerufen durch die Architekturform, wie man das noch viel mehr beobachten kann, wenn man weiter nach dem Westen geht.

356 Straßburger Münster Die vier Kardinaltugenden

Es ist ein besonders charakteristischer Zug dieser Zeit, daß die Kirche als Überwinderin dargestellt wird, so daß überall diese überwundenen teuflischen und sonstigen Motive sich da finden.

Straßburger Münster

357 Christus und die klugen Jungfrauen

358 Der Verführer und die törichten Jungfrauen

359 Die Kirche

361 Die Kirche, Teil: Brustbild

Das ist also die Darstellung der «Kirche» am Straßburger Dom durch diese Frauengestalt, die Darstellung der christlichen Kirche. - Nun der Kirche gegenübergestellt die Synagoge, blind, mit wunderbarer Geste:

360 Straßburger Münster Die Synagoge

362 Teil: Brustbild

Ich bitte, sich einzuprägen nicht nur den Kopf und den eigentümlichen Ausdruck, sondern auch die ganze Geste. Wir wollen noch einmal die ganze «Kirche» vorführen, damit Sie vergleichen können, wie wunderbar seelisch kontrastiert «Kirche» und «Synagoge» sind.

Nun als weitere Beispiele vom Zusammenwirken des Südlichen mit dem Mitteleuropäischen wollen wir jetzt ein paar Proben aus der kölnischen Kunst Ihnen vorführen. Der nicht ganz bekannte «Kölner Meister» — man nennt ihn oftmals den Meister Wilhelm - vereinigt in hohem Grade feinste Zeichen- und Formgebung mit Innigkeit des Ausdrucks, wie in diesem noch zu sehen ist

237 Meister der Veronika Hl. Veronika mit dem Schweißtuch

und wenn Sie die untere Figur ansehen mit ihren durchaus aus der Bewegung heraus geschaffenen Formen. Bekannt ist ja, daß aus derselben Quelle, von demselben Meister das berühmte Bild der Maria, die «Madonna mit der Wickenblüte» stammt:

238 Meister der Veronika Madonna mit der Wickenblüte

Ich bitte, von hier ab bei allen folgenden Bildern zu beachten, wie es da in Betracht kommt, daß diese Meister in einem hohen Grade eine Vorliebe haben, nicht nur das Seelische auszugestalten, das wirklich Seelische im Antlitz und in der übrigen Geste, sondern namentlich auch in der ganzen Bildung der Hände. Diese Zeit arbeitet nämlich mehr als irgendeine andere Zeit an der seelischen Ausgestaltung der Hände. Ich erwähne das besonders aus dem Grunde, weil gerade dieser Zug eine besondere Höhe erreicht bei Dürer, der mit wahrer Freude alles dasjenige zum Ausdruck bringt, was seelisch in den Händen zum Ausdruck kommen kann. Wir sehen in diesem Kölnischen Meister wirklich eine reinste Durchdringung des südlichen Form-Elementes mit dem mitteleuropäischen Elemente des Ausdrucks des Seelischen, des Gemütsinnigen, und sehen gleich darauf bei dem Meister, der aus Konstanz nach Köln kommt, Stefan Lochner, wie nun wiederum revoltiert das Ausdruckselement gegen das Formelement, obwohl gerade dieser Meister außerordentlich viel lernt von dem eben in den zwei Proben gezeigten.

239 Stefan Lochner Die Anbetung der Heiligen Drei Könige

Stefan Lochner ist derjenige, der, ich möchte sagen mit einem gewissen revolutionären Widerstreben, indem er ganz wurzelt in der Kunst des Ausdruckes, sich anschmiegt an dasjenige, was er in Köln von dem anderen und dessen Schülern lernen konnte.

240 Stefan Lochner Christus am Kreuz mit Heiligen

241 Stefan Lochner Madonna mit dem Veilchen

Also das ist das, was sich an das Frühergezeigte eben anschließt: Lochner, der trotz allem Sich-Anschmiegen eben diesen neuen Ansatz hat, ein neues Schaffen aus dem Inneren heraus. Ich will nur bemerken, daß es 1420 ist, da kommt Stefan Lochner nach Köln. Derjenige, der ihm dort mehr oder weniger Lehrer geworden ist, den wir vorhin gezeigt haben in der «Veronika» und in der «Madonna mit der Wickenblüte» (238), der stirbt etwa um das Jahr 1410; 1420 kommt dann Lochner nach Köln.

242 Stefan Lochner Madonna in der Rosenlaube

Dieses wunderbare Lochner-Bild «Maria in den Rosen, in der Rosenlaube, im Rosenhag» -: Wenn Sie alles in Erwägung ziehen, was auf diesem Bilde ist: die ungeheure Beweglichkeit der Engelfiguren, der Versuch, Beweglichkeit auch in das ganze Bild sonst hineinzubringen! — Es ist natürlich so, daß wir hier nur das Hell-Dunkel geben können; dasjenige, was aber durchaus noch hinzukommt, das ist die Farbengebung. Wenn Sie sehen, welche Beweglichkeit in das Bild hineinkommt durch die Ausbreitung des Schleiers, aus dem dann Gottvater sichtbar wird, der herunterblickt auf die Madonna mit dem Kinde, wenn Sie sehen, wie jeder Engel seine Aufgabe erfüllt und dadurch ungeheure Bewegung hineinkommt, dann wird das Bild aus der Bewegung herausgeborene Komposition, während wir sagen können, daß der südliche Impuls eben das Kompositionelle der Ruhe gibt, daß erst Bewegung hineinkommit, als eben der nördliche Impuls sich damit verbindet. Hier haben Sie ursprünglich in diesem Lochnerschen Bilde alles in innerer Beweglichkeit.

Nun wollen wir ein paar Proben von einem Meister zeigen, der Anregungen empfangen hat vom Westen herüber, von Flandern, und der sichtlich zeigt die westlichen Anregungen, nämlich Schongauer, der von 1450 bis 1491 gelebt hat, bei dem Sie also dieselbe Kunsttendenz — aber mit westlichem Eiinflusse von Flandern her - werden beobachten können:

249 Martin Schongauer Madonna im Rosenhag

Bemerken Sie, wie ein viel realistischeres Element dadurch noch hinein kommt.

250 Martin Schongauer Die Geburt Christi

253 Martin Schongauer Die Versuchung des hl. Antonius

Ein im wesentlichen ja visionäres Bild, ein Kupferstich, in sehr realistischer Weise gefaßt, durchaus individuell.

Es ist schon zu gleicher Zeit eine außerordentlich richtig wirkende Imagination, die solch einem Künstler möglich macht, die menschlichen Leidenschaften, die den Inhalt eben der Versuchung bilden, in dieser Weise ganz konkret zu verkörpern und neben die wirkliche menschliche Gestalt dasjenige hinzustellen, was ja real im astralischen Leib wirklich lebt, wenn Versuchung uns ankommt.

Jetzt folgt ein unbekannter «Oberrheinischer Meister»:

254 Oberrheinischer Meister Die Versuchung des hl. Antonius

Sie sehen hier wiederum eine Versuchung des Heiligen Antonius, jetzt nach Art des Grünewald, der gelebt hat vom Jahre 1470 etwa bis 1528 und in welchem Sie werden bewundern können mehr oder weniger den Gipfelpunkt desjenigen, was in den bisherigen Bestrebungen zusammengekommen ist: den wirklich individuellen Ausdruck mit Können, mit Kunst im höchsten Maße, dabei in vieler Beziehung von südlicher Phantasie mehr beeinflußt als Schongauer. Es ist sehr interessant, die beiden «Versuchungen» miteinander zu vergleichen. Beide stellen ja natürlich dasselbe dar, und es könnte durchaus so angesehen werden, daß man das vorhergehende Bild (253) auffaßt, ich will sagen: als das, was als Versuchung an einem Tag auftritt, und dieses Bild (254) als das, was als Versuchung am nächsten Tag auftritt. Aber die Motive kommen dabei gar nicht in Betracht, nur das Künstlerische als solches, das wirklich bei diesem Grünewald nahestehenden Künstler noch eine höhere Vollendung zeigt als bei dem vorigen.

255 Matthias Grünewald Die Kreuztragung

256 Matthias Grünewald Isenheimer Altar, Teil: Die Kreuzigung

Das ist das Mittelbild von dem berühmten Isenheimer Altar in Colmar. Achten Sie auf die ins kleinste Detail hineingehende Charakteristik aus dem Ausdruck heraus. Selbst noch das Tier nimmt teil an der ganzen Handlung. Studieren Sie das Hineinfließen der Seele in die Hände.

257 Matthias Grünewald Isenheimer Altar, Teil: Die Versuchung des hl. Antonius

Das ist ein Flügel des Isenheimer Altars. Das ist eine andere «Versuchung des Heiligen Antonius».

258 Matthias Grünewald Isenheimer Altar,

Teil: Antonius und Paulus im Gespräch Das ist der andere Flügel des Isenheimer Altars.

260 Matthias Grünewald Isenheimer Altar, Predella: Die Grablegung Christi 259 Matthias Grünewald Isenheimer Altar, Predella, Teil

Die «Grablegung Christi» von der Predella des Isenheimer Altars, also die untere Partie. Diese Bilder sind Kunstwerke von vollendetster Charakterdarstellung.

261 Matthias Grünewald Isenheimer Altar, Teil: Die Auferstehung

Die «Auferstehung» gehört auch zu dem Isenheimer Altar.

Das wäre also der Meister Grünewald, der in gewisser Beziehung den Gipfelpunkt dessen darstellt, was wir herüberkommen sehen, nach und nach sich entwickelnd, vom 13. ins 15. Jahrhundert herauf bis zum 16. Jahrhundert.

Und nun gehen wir zu dem ganz andersartigen Elemente, wo bei einem verhältnismäßig geringeren Können - denn in Grünewald liegt ein starkes, großes Können - versucht wird, gerade das, was ich vorhin genannt habe das Revolutionierende der Charakteristik, zum Ausdrucke zu bringen. Wir gehen jetzt zu einem Künstler, der, wie gesagt bei geringerem Können, in dem revoJutionären Impulse Ausdruck, Seelisches herausbringt, Seelisches, wie die Seele es nach außen und aus dem Alltagsleben heraus zeigt - zu einem Künstler, bei

dem dies tätig ist, Lucas Cranach der Ältere:

262 Lucas Cranach d. Ä. Der Jungbrunnen

265 Lucas Cranach d. Ä. Maria mit dem Kinde

Hierinnen haben Sie eben reinste Reformationsstimmung, wenn es auch noch eine Madonna ist, eben durchaus Reformationsstimmung, das heißt: das Menschliche überwiegt jede andere Rücksicht in hohem Grade. Sehen Sie sich sowohl Mutter als Kind daraufhin an.

266 Lucas Cranach d. Ä. Ruhe auf der Flucht

264 Lucas Cranach d. Ä. Madonna mit der Weintraube

Das ist eine andere Cranach’sche Madonna.

268 Lucas Cranach d. Ä. Die Kreuzigung

263 Lucas Cranach d. Ä. Judith mit dem Haupt des Holofernes

269 Lucas Cranach d. Ä. Kardinal Albrecht von Brandenburg vor dem Gekreuzigten

Der Mensch also, der gemalt wird, weil gezeigt werden soll, wie er den Christus verehrt; ein Mensch, der mit beiden Füßen auf der Erde steht, der diesen seelischen Willensimpuls der Verehrung des Christus zum Ausdruck bringt, aufgefaßt so, wie eben diese Seele sich in dem menschlichen Gemüt zum Ausdruck bringt. Es ist, glaube ich, auch bekannt, wer der Mann ist: Albrecht von Brandenburg, Christus verehrend.

Nunmehr kommen wir zu dem eben im eminentesten Sinne mitteleuropäischen Künstler, zu Albrecht Dürer:

270 Albrecht Dürer Selbstbildnis, Madrid

Ein Selbstbildnis mehr aus der Jugendzeit. - Nun ein späteres Selbstbildnis:

271 Albrecht Dürer Selbstbildnis im Pelzrock, München

Studieren Sie wiederum die Hand, und studieren Sie an diesem Bilde, wie die Haare geradezu angeordnet sind, um Hell-Dunkel-Wirkungen in besonderer Weise hervorzubringen.

286 Albrecht Dürer Die Anbetung der heiligen Dreifaltigkeit

Nun haben Sie hier Dürers «Heilige Dreifaltigkeit» — Vater, Sohn und Geist - in seiner Auffassung, die eigentlich aus dem Geiste der ganzen Zeit herausgeboren ist, weit übergreifend über all das Denken der damaligen Zeit und doch beherrscht von der damaligen Zeit, in einer Art aufgefaßt, wie Dürer in der Zeit, in der er eben dies gerade vollendete, die Dinge zeichnerisch faßte; aber überall - wenn Sie versuchen, es zu studieren -, überall auf das HellDunkel in besonderer Weise, auch im Zeichnerischen drinnen, hinarbeitend und so die Komposition anordnend.

Jetzt wollen wir noch einmal aus einem bestimmten Grunde die sogenannte «Disputa», die Sie ja kennen, vornehmen:

286a Raffael Camera della Segnatura: «Disputa»

Sie wissen, an der «Disputa» des Raffael ist das Charakteristische: unten das Kollegium der Theologen, welche beschäftigt sind, die theologischen Wahrheiten in sich aufzunehmen; hinein in diese Versammlung: die Offenbarung der Dreifaltigkeit - Vater, Sohn und Geist. Wir sehen gewissermaßen drei Etagen: oben immer mehr und mehr die Wesenheiten, die geistigen, ansteigen: diejenigen, die durch den Tod gegangen sind, diejenigen, die niemals verkörpert sind; wir sehen das Kompositionelle in südlicher Art angeordnet unten. Wir prägen uns ein den Grundgedanken hineingestellt in das Kompositionelle der Ruhe, des Nebeneinanderpostierens. Selbst Bewegung ist hinein in die Ruhe geflossen. — Und jetzt wollen wir von diesem uns bekannten, schon besprochenen Bilde übergehen zu dem fast gleichzeitig von Dürer gemalten Bilde der heiligen Dreifaltigkeit von 1511, das Sie bitte vergleichen in der Komposition mit diesem Ihnen eben gezeigten. Die drei Etagen, und in hervorragender Weise dargestellt, was aus dem Kompositionellen der Bewegung heraus dieses Bild von dem vorherigen, gleichzeitig entstandenen südlichen, unterscheidet. Dieses Bild ist in Wien. Ich habe hier eine kleine Reproduktion in Farben; wer will, kann sich nachher die kleine farbige Reproduktion von dem Bild ansehen. Die Farbenreproduktion ist allerdings fürchterlich; aber Sie bekommen einen Eindruck von den Farben, die darauf sind - allerdings nicht, wie sie darauf sind.

286 Albrecht Dürer Die Anbetung der heiligen Dreifaltigkeit

Es ist durchaus zurückzuweisen, denn es ist einfach nicht richtig, daß bei der Schöpfung etwa dieser Komposition Dürer beeinflußt worden wäre von dem, was er im Süden aufgenommen hat. Im Gegenteil, man kann vielfach nachweisen, daß die südlichen Maler nicht nur von Dürers Kompositionen, sondern überhaupt von nordischem Kompositionellem beeinflußt worden sind, wie es sich ja dann in einem Falle historisch nachweisen läßt, daß Raffael zu seiner «Kreuztragung» - jedenfalls zu einem späteren Bilde - Dürersche Zeichnungen vorliegen gehabt hat:

314a Raffael Die Kreuztragung

315 Albrecht Dürer Die Kreuztragung, Große Holzschnitt-Passion

314 Albrecht Dürer Die Kreuztragung, Kleine Holzschnitt-Passion

Natürlich wird das nicht von diesem Bilde behauptet. Aber es soll durchaus der Gedanke abgelehnt werden, daß Dürer bei seinem Bilde beeinflußt worden sei; denn das Motiv lag ja in der ganzen Zeit. Deshalb sagte ich: Das Motiv war in breitestem Umkreise vorhanden, und was Dürer geschaffen hat, ist durchaus aus dem mitteleuropäischen Impulse heraus.

284 Albrecht Dürer Der zwölfjährige Jesusknabe unter den Schriftgelehrten

Wir sehen hier Dürer als Meister im Schaffen von Charakterköpfen: Jesus unter den Schriftgelehrten — aber selbstverständlich Charakterköpfe, wie er sie unmittelbar in seiner eigenen Umgebung um sich herum hatte.

287 Albrecht Dürer Die vier Apostel, Teil: Johannes und Petrus

288 Albrecht Dürer Die vier Apostel, Teil: Paulus und Markus

Die bekannten Münchner Bilder der vier Apostel! Das besonders Hervorragende an diesen Bildern ist ja die scharfe Charakterisierung, nach Temperament und Charakter, der Verschiedenheit der vier Apostel.

Albrecht Dürer

289 Die vier Apostel, Teil: Johannes und Petrus, Brustbild

290 Die vier Apostel, Teil: Paulus und Markus, Brustbild

278 Die Beweinung Christi

279 Die Geburt Christi, Mittelbild des Paumgartnerschen Altars 274 Bildnis eines Greises

280 Anbetung der heiligen drei Könige 282 Das Rosenkranzfest

273 Hieronymus Holzschuher

Das ist das berühmte Holzschuher-Bild.

281 Albrecht Dürer Herkules im Kampf mit den stymphalischen Vögeln

Dieses Bild wird besonders aus dem Grunde hier eingefügt, weil es die Dürersche Auffassung der Bewegung, wie sie unmittelbar aus dem menschlichen Wesen kommt, zeigen soll.

291 Albrecht Dürer Ritter, Tod und Teufel

Das berühmte Bild «Der christliche Ritter», wie es oftmals genannt wird: «Ritter, Tod und Teufel». Ich bitte Sie, gerade bei diesem Kupferstich zu beachten, wie er durchaus aus der Zeit herausgewachsen ist. Denn stellen Sie neben dieses Bild hin dasjenige, was ich eben vorhin zitiert habe aus Goethes «Faust»:

Zwar bin ich gescheiter als alle die Laffen,

Doktoren, Magister, Schreiber und Pfaffen;

Mich plagen keine Skrupel noch Zweifel,

Fürchte mich weder vor Hölle noch Teufel

dann haben Sie diesen ganzen Charakter, der sich nicht vor «Iod und Teufel» zu fürchten hat, sondern seinen Weg durch die Welt nimmt. So soll er ja auch dargestellt werden, der christliche Ritter, der gründlich revoltiert gegen Doktoren, Magister, Schreiber und Pfaffen, die in seinen Bereich hereingetragen sind, der sich durch die Welt zu bewegen hat, sich nicht fürchtend vor Tod und Teufel, die dastehen auf seinem Wege und die er durchaus gewissermaßen seitab läßt und seinen Weg fortsetzt. «Der christliche Ritter» muß das Bild eigentlich genannt werden. Denn Tod und Teufel stehen nur auf dem Weg; aber er schreitet über sie oder an ihnen rückhaltlos vorbei. Dieselbe Zeitstimmung, aus der heraus der Goethesche «Faust»-Monolog gedichtet ist, bewußt gedichtet ist, dieselbe Zeitstimmung kommt zunächst in diesem Dürerschen Stich zum Ausdruck.

292 Albrecht Dürer Hieronymus im Gehäuse

Nun bitte ich Sie, dies richtig mittelalterliche Zimmer zu beachten, die rein aus dem Licht und der Finsternis heraus geborene Komposition, die herausgeboren werden soll bewußt aus Licht und Finsternis: das Licht, das hereinkommt - und nun in das Licht gestellt der Hund; am wenigsten Licht bekommend, schlafend, mehr oder weniger in der Finsternis: der Löwe, als das gewissermaßen wollendere Tier, wie träumend und auf sein Antlitz viel Licht bekommend; dieser Gegensatz der beiden Tiere soll wirklich dadurch zum Ausdruck kommen, daß sie ins Licht in einer verschiedenen Weise hineingestellt werden. Und damit kontrastierend der Hieronymus selber, der auch Licht bekommt, aber zu gleicher Zeit das Licht aus sich selber wie zurückstrahlt. Mensch und Tier, Heiliger und Tier selbst kontrastiert durch das Hineingestelltsein ins Licht - auch noch der Totenkopf. Hund, Löwe, Heiliger und Totenkopf - die ganze Komposition eben angeordnet auf das Hell-Dunkel hin. Eine Entwickelungsgeschichte, möchte ich sagen, großartigster Art dadurch, daß in dieser Weise die Figuren in das Licht hineingestellt sind. Und das gehört mit zum Großartigsten bei Dürer, daß er die kompositionelle Kraft, die indem Zusammenwirken des Lichtes mit dem Objekte, mit dem Wesen ist, daß er diese kompositionelle Kraft herausschafft. Selbstverständlich gehört zu einer Komposition noch etwas anderes als die Hauptfiguren. Aber man muß an diesem Stich ganz besonders bewundern das Herausarbeiten der kompositionellen Kraft, die im Hell-Dunkel liegt.

293 Albrecht Dürer Melencolia I

Bei diesem Kupferstich bitte ich Sie zu beachten - und natürlich müssen Sie diese Worte etwas «ultramontanlos» nehmen -, wie tatsächlich dieses Bild gewissermaßen in die Welt hineingestellt ist, um zu zeigen, worauf es Dürer ankommt beim Hell-Dunkel, bei der kompositionellen Kraft des Hell-Dunkels. Er ordnet an, wie um zu zeigen, worauf es ihm ankommt, einen eckigen, einen polyedrischen Körper und die Kugel, den runden Körper, um auf der Kugel zu zeigen, wie das Licht, das er in einer eigenen Weise einfallen läßt, mit dem Dunkel zusammen wirkt. Und man kann an der Kugel die Verteilung des Lichtes studieren. Man kann davon ausgehen, wie nun in der Anordnung des Faltenwurfes des Gewandes die Lichteffekte entsprechen dem Lichteffekte, wie er an der Kugel zum Ausdruck kommt. Die Falten läßt Dürer so fallen, daß in der Gesamtanordnung auch alles das zum Ausdruck kommt, was hier an der einfachen Kugel an Hell und Dunkel zum Ausdruck kommt. Man kann vergleichen, wie verschieden an dem polyedrischen Körper, je nach der Neigung der Fläche, die Fläche im Hellen, Halbdunkel, Dunkel, Finsternis, Licht liegt. Unter diesem polyedrischen Körper stellt er Ihnen hin das Wesen, das mehr flüchtige Form zeigt, dem er flüchtige Form gibt, das Windspiel, um nachzubilden das Auffallen des Lichtes in derselben Weise auf den Flächen, wie er es Ihnen oben am polyedrischen Körper darstellt. So daß man überall hat: Was sagt das Licht zum Objekt, was sagt das Licht zum Wesen hier? - Was das Licht sagt, man hat es überall, indem man jede einzelne Schattierung vergleichen kann mit dem Entsprechenden des polyedrischen Körpers und des runden Körpers. Damit hat Dürer zu gleicher Zeit mit diesem Bilde etwas geschaffen - es gibt nichts Pädagogischeres, wenn man jemanden schattieren lehren will, als dieses Bild zu verwenden. Eigenlicht läßt Dürer noch oben - da rechts von der Fledermaus, die das Wort «Melancholie» trägt — auftreten, etwas gewissermaßen aus sich selbst Leuchtendes, im Gegensatz zu dem reflektierten Licht, das auf allen übrigen Flächen zum Ausdruck kommt.

Zwischenfrage: Hat dieses Bild noch eine andere, tiefere Bedeutung?

Eine tiefere Bedeutung? — Warum soll dieses nicht tief genug sein? - Wenn man versuchen will, gerade das Magisch-Geheimnisvolle des Lichtes im Raume zu studieren, so ist dieses eine tiefere Bedeutung, als wenn man nun anfängt, es in einer symbolisch-mystischen Weise auszudeuten. Dies führt ab vom Künstlerischen, und es ist besser, das, was an tieferer Bedeutung noch darin gesucht werden kann - daß zum Beispiel oben eine Planetentafel ist und so weiter und daß allerlei Dinge da sind -, das mehr aus dem Zeitkolorit heraus sich vorzustellen. Es lag eben der damaligen Zeit nahe, solche Dinge zusammenzustellen. Und besser ist es, im Künstlerischen stehen zu bleiben, als zu symbolisieren. Sogar glaube ich, daß ein großer Humor in diesem Bilde liegt, nämlich, daß mit einer allerdings etwas laienhaften Weise die Titelgebung des Bildes in mehr humoristischer Form ausdrücken soll: «Schwarzfärbung» — so daß es Dürer wirklich auf die Schwarzfärbung ankam bei dem Wort «Melancholie». In einer versteckten Weise könnte das Wort — wie gesagt: laienhaft, dilettantenhaft «Schwarzfärbung» bezeichnen, und nicht, daß er etwa irgend etwas TiefsinnigSymbolisches ausdrücken wollte. Sondern es kam ihm wirklich auf die künstlerische Gestaltung, auf die Plastizität der Lichtbildung an. Und ich bitte Sie, dieses nicht als untief aufzufassen, dieses Herausgestalten des Lichtes, und allerlei symbolische Ausdeutungen zu liefern. Sondern die Welt ist dadurch tief, daß sie solche Lichtwirkungen hat; die sind in der Regel tiefer, als daß in diesem Bilde, das nun gerade «Melancholie» betitelt ist, allerlei Mystisches gesucht wird.

322 Hans Holbein d. J. Selbstbildnis

Nun gehen wir also über zu Holbein, der im wesentlichen anders geartet ist als Dürer. In Augsburg geboren, lebt er dann in Basel weiter und verliert sich dann, verschwindet, möchte ich sagen, in England. Er ist Realist in besonderem Sinne, in dem Sinne, daß er nun wirklich in das Porträttum auch, wo er Kompositionelles schafft, starken Realismus hereinträgt, Realismus, der aber durchaus bestrebt ist, das, was ich vorhin nannte: Alltägliches, im Seelischen zum Ausdruck zu bringen. Ich bitte Sie also zu beachten, wie das Milieu, der Beruf und alles, in dem der Mensch drinnen steht, dem Seelischen seinen Charakter aufdrückt, und Holbein in einer, man kann schon sagen: fast zum Äußerlichsten gehenden Weise im Äußerlichen das zum Ausdruck bringt, was er aus der Seele herausholen will, die Art, wie er den ganzen Menschen aus seiner Zeit heraus schafft.

324 Hans Holbein d. J. Charles de Morette

323 Hans Holbein d. J. Erasmus von Rotterdam

325 Hans Holbein d. J. Die Familie des Künstlers

326 Hans Holbein d. J. Die Madonna des Bürgermeisters Meyer

Hier haben Sie also wiederum das Motiv, daß ein Mensch der damaligen Zeit - der Basler Bürgermeister Meyer ist es ja mit seiner Familie - sich zeigt, wie er die Madonna anbetet. Von diesem Bilde, das in Darmstadt ist, ist eine sehr gute Kopie in Dresden; sie ist wirklich gut, diese Kopie; denn sie konnte lange Zeit für eine zweite Bearbeitung des Bildes von Holbein gelten. - Da sehen wir also schon hereinspielen den Realismus, der ja ganz besonders bei Holbein ausgebildet ist, während bei Dürer die Elemente vorliegen, die ich eben versuchte vorhin zu charakterisieren, also universelle Elemente.

Nun drei Proben aus Holbeins Totentanz. Holbein ist ja gerade als Maler der Totentanz-Motive bedeutend:

Hans Holbein d. J.

«Totentanz», Holzschnitte

319 Der König

320 Der Mönch

321 Der Reiche

Und nun zum Schluß möchte ich noch etwas zeigen, was nicht direkt im Zusammenhang mit dem anderen steht, das aber in das ganze Kunstensemble, das wir vorgeführt haben, hineingehört, die in Nürnberg befindliche Madonna-Skulptur,

363 Unbekannter Meister Maria (Nürnberger Madonna)

die alles das, was in Geste, in Gemütsinnigkeit aus der mitteleuropäischen Kunst heraus geleistet werden konnte, in Vollendung zeigt. Diese Skulptur ist von einem Künstler geschaffen, den man nicht kennt. Stellen Sie sich aber diese «Maria» zu einer Kreuzigungsgruppe gehörig vor, als Gegenbild etwa den Johannes, ein großes Kreuz, den Christus in der Mitte - also zu einer Kreuzigungsgruppe gehörig diese in Nürnberg befindliche Madonna -, dann haben Sie eine besondere Blüte der deutschen Kunst vor sich, etwa vom Anfang des 16. Jahrhunderts. Und vieles, was an Innigkeit in den Madonnen, die wir durchgenommen haben, hervorgetreten ist, kann hier wiedergefunden werden, besonders auch in der einzigartigen Haltung.

Damit versuchten wir also Ihnen das vorzuführen, was im Zusammenhang betrachtet, den ich anzudeuten versuchte, Dürers Künstlerindividualität hervortreten läßt. - Ich möchte sagen, dadurch lernt man gerade Dürer erst recht erkennen, daß man ihn im Zusammenhange betrachtet mit dem, was der Zeit nach um ihn herum ist, vor und mit ihm. Denn mehr als man glaubt, ist wirklich in Dürer in großartiger Weise dasjenige lebend, was auf einem anderen Gebiete dann zu der Auflehnung führte, die man als «faustische» Auflehnung kennt. Es lebte auch in Dürer künstlerisch ein Stück «Faust». Und es wird Ihnen immer ein Gefühl davon geben, etwas von der Zeit, in der Dürer lebte, aus der Dürer heraus geboren war, in sich aufzunehmen, wenn Sie solche Bilder wie den «Hieronymus», die «Melancholie», den «Christlichen Ritter» — «Ritter, Tod und Teufel» — und manches andere zusammenstellen mit demjenigen, was aus den ersten Monologen des «Faust» herausströmt, wenn wir sie in das Zeitkolorit hineinsetzen, in das Goethe sie hineingesetzt haben will. Und ich möchte sagen: Versuchen Sie gerade den «Hieronymus»

292 Albrecht Dürer Hieronymus im Gehäuse

mit Faust-Bildern, die es auch gibt,

564* Rembrandt Faust

zusammenzuhalten, dann werden Sie auch sogar das Verbindungsglied finden. Das Herausschaffen Dürers aus Hell und Dunkel meinte ich wirklich nicht in einem banalen Sinne. Natürlich kann jeder, der irgendein Stück Wirklichkeit nachmachen will, aus dem Hell-Dunkel heraus schaffen. Aber Sie haben gesehen: Es handelt sich darum, daß Dürer die Komposition hervorzurufen versucht, indem er an die magischen Wirkungen des Hell-Dunkels anknüpft. Das bitte ich Sie als etwas zu betrachten, was Dürer als eines seiner charakteristischsten Merkmale durchsetzt, neben dem, daß er natürlich in sich auch hat die Sehnsucht, individuell zu charakterisieren, wie wir das zum Beispiel an seinen «Apostelköpfen» (289, 290) in einer so außerordentlichen Weise sehen können.

Damit versuchten wir Ihnen also heute einige der hauptsächlichsten Monumente der mittelalterlichen Kunst vorzuführen, und werden nächstens einiges andere daran knüpfen, was sich, ich möchte sagen da oder dort hineinschiebt und was dann zusammen ein Ganzes ausmachen kann.

3. German Sculpture and Painting up to Dürer and Holbein. Raffael

Fundamentals for understanding the Central European-Nordic artistic impulse. Contrasts and connections between Central European-Nordic and Southern art:

The development of art in Central Europe up to the time when Dürer and Holbein entered into this development is one of the most complicated problems in art history; for when studying everything that culminates in Dürer—especially in Dürer—one is confronted with a whole series of overlapping, intertwined artistic impulses. And another difficult problem is the relationship of this artistic development to that whose height we considered in the second lecture, to the Italian Renaissance and its great masters.

If one wants to understand what European artistic development is actually about—today, of course, we can only highlight a few aspects—one must first and foremost consider the existence of a particularly powerful imaginative influence emanating from Central Europe, from that Europe that one can imagine, let's say from Saxony, Thuringia to the sea, to the Atlantic Ocean, that is, special imaginative impulses that emanate from there and that go back to fairly ancient times, at any rate were already effective in a certain way when Christianity spread in the south. These imaginative impulses are in stark contrast to those imaginative impulses that are specifically southern in nature. And it is not easy to characterize the difference between the two impulses of imagination. One could say, for example, that the southern impulse of imagination is rooted in a certain conception of tranquil form, in the way in which this tranquil form and also the revealing color spring forth from, one might say, the revelations that in a certain sense lie behind the immediately perceptible, behind the physical. Therefore, this southern imagination strives to elevate the artistically reproducible from the individual, to elevate the individual to the typical, to the general, to that realm in which the specifically earthly, the specifically human, disappears. There is an endeavor to show how what lies behind things influences the form and colors of things. And connected with this impulse of imagination is a rooting in the tranquility of composition, in juxtaposition, in bringing things into relation with one another, which compositional power then reaches its peak precisely in Raphael.

The Central European impulse of imagination is of a completely different nature. Looking back to the earliest times, it does not initially stem directly from the conception of form or the conception of calm composition, but mainly from the event, from the expression of what comes from spiritual impulses. it stems from how human will is expressed in gesture, in movement, how human will is expressed — more than through the form appropriate to human nature itself — through the sign in which the soul lives. And in the soul's desire to express itself in its sign lies the imaginative impulse of the North. Anyone who has a feeling for such things will notice in this impulse of imagination everywhere, I would say, the effectiveness of the old runes, where sticks or similar objects are thrown together to express something in their falling. The sign and the presence of life in the sign, that is what underlies this kind of imagination. Therefore, this kind of imagination can connect more with what is the individual expression of the soul, what emerges from the immediate impulse of the soul's will. If more of what has been eradicated, not exactly in works of visual art, but in views of human life and world conditions, by the spread of Christianity, had been preserved, if more of what ancient paganism had had had been preserved, not in finished works of visual art, but in I do not want to say symbolic, but emblematic representations of what people thought about the world and life, then one would also get a strong feeling in the outer world of how, in the North, the imagination, which works more from within, from the impulse of the will — not from the impulse of perception — is the essential thing. This imagination, which works out of the impulse of the will, must be regarded, in a sense, as the basic tone of everything that spread from the North to the South in terms of culture. And more than one might think has spread in this way. Once we have unraveled all the impulses in Renaissance art that actually come from the north, we will see how, in the finished works of art available today, neither the north nor the south nor Spain can be seen as the source of these impulses, for they have merged together. And if, for example, we study what lives in Leonardo's “Last Supper” in Milan, if one studies how, in contrast to earlier “Last Suppers” born more out of the southern spirit, dramatic life and dramatic movement enter into the context of the figures and how individuality and soulfulness speak from the faces, then one must be clear that the Nordic impulse, spreading mysteriously to the south, is at work in this. It is, in a correspondingly attenuated form, of course, already thoroughly infused into the purely southern imagination, which can then be observed again in a completely different area in Shakespeare, whose characters are thoroughly born of the Nordic spirit, because they express the essence of human beings themselves, so that they no longer contain that which, as if from the supernatural, is brought into existence only through the human form and human action as a means of existence.

Yes, even when we observe Michelangelo's wonderful foreshortening in the Sistine Chapel, we must be clear—as paradoxical as it may seem today—that this element of movement also corresponds in Michelangelo to an impulse that comes from the Nordic impulse; only these Nordic impulses have then been overgrown by the southern ones. And we see a particular example of how the northern has been overgrown by the southern in the way Raphael's imagination, which remained more or less southern and developed in the solitude of the Umbrian mountains, rounds off everything he can observe in Leonardo and Michelangelo, in which the northern has had an influence, and in turn Romanizes it in terms of composition.

These are some abstract hints about profound problems, without the resolution of which the art of the Middle Ages cannot be understood at all. This is also why, more than anywhere else in the oldest surviving art of the Middle Ages, what is expressed by the “sign” of the word is naturally combined with the visual arts. One has an immediate sense of the naturalness of the artistic design of the letter as a small pictorial work of art in the Bible works created in Europe. When, in the earlier days of Christian culture, the monks, who had absorbed all the impulses of Central Europe, designed their missals and other books in such a way that the letters blossomed, as it were, into miniature pictures, this was not merely something external, but arose from a feeling, a sense of the inner connection between sign and pictorial representation. The sign had, as it were, pushed its way into the pictorial representation. And since the sign is in turn the expression of human will, of the human soul, there is a natural transition from what is expressed in the context of the word to what flows into the miniature image, even between what is expressed in the context of the word and what is contained in the old ivory sculptures that adorn the book covers. This truly expresses a blossoming of what is no longer present in Central European art. And everywhere, what is expressed in the miniatures shows creation from within, from the soul, I would say coupled with a certain naivety in the reproduction of that which is so great in the south, that which lives in form, in the form that is peculiar to human nature, without the movement and mobility brought about by the inner, by the soul, without the expression of the individual soul pouring into the form. One can take old gospel books and see from the miniature pictures how people wanted to express what they themselves had experienced spiritually, certainly based on figures handed down in the Bible. A guilty conscience and similar inner spiritual experiences are expressed in a magnificent way in older Central European miniature painting. They are paired with a great naivety in terms of the actual form, in terms of the form to which the human being himself adds nothing through his individuality, but in which, one might say, the divine-spiritual behind things is revealed. But the fact is that this impulse, which I have characterized, always radiates, as it were, from Central Europe and loses itself in its radiation in what spread from the south. It loses itself in the spreading Christianity; it loses itself in the spreading Romanism, and so on. At the same time, however, what spreads from Central Europe is in turn fertilized by the south, so that what is gained from the south in terms of mastery of form and color revealed from the spiritual-natural becomes part of what is now the flowering of the Nordic impulses. It grows into each other, it intertwines, it weaves itself together.

Thus we see that development does not actually proceed continuously, but more or less in fits and starts. And one always has the feeling: What would have happened if development had not occurred in fits and starts, but continuously? For example, one can have the feeling of what would have happened if, in the north, in a straight line—of course, these are hypotheses that mean nothing, but one can get such a feeling — what would have happened if, in a straight line, what was first contained in the miniature pictures and ivory sculptures that adorn book covers during the Carolingian and Ottonian periods could have developed into great art? — But now everything that is carried along on the wave of Christianity as the Romanesque element pours into it. And this Romanesque element brings to architecture and sculpture precisely the formal impulse I have spoken of, the southern formal impulse. And there the marriage takes place between the northern impulse of movement, the impulse of expression, and the southern impulse of form, the impulse of color, but as an impulse of color as I have described it, so that color is the revelation of what is naturally spiritual expression, not individual expression.

But there is something else connected with this. We can say that with the passing of the Ottonian period, a first northern impulse ceases, into which the Romanesque impulse grows, spreading into all the regions through which the tributaries of the Rhone and the Rhine flow. Into this, in particular, but also beyond, a Romanesque impulse expands, resulting in a complete merging of the two impulses — let us say, for now, growing — which reaches its peak around the 12th and 13th centuries, when another impulse emerges from the west, which has already been preparing itself there. One could say that the impulse of intuition, which is actually the southern impulse, combines in Central European Romanesque art with the impulse of movement, as I have characterized it, with that impulse of movement which basically comes out of the element of will.

In the West, something else is preparing itself during this period, which then grows and becomes completely permeated from the 12th and 13th centuries onwards with what I have just characterized as spreading in the valleys of the Rhone and Rhine river basins. What is preparing itself in the West is something that in turn flows together from two impulses. And the confluence of these two impulses is represented in the sublime Gothic forms. Here, two impulses really do flow together: one impulse that is actually carried from the north, an impulse that encompasses, I would say, practical life, understanding, common sense, realism of life; this comes on the waves in Europe, which culturally carry the Normans to Europe. This is connected with what comes from Spain, but especially from southern France. If what comes from the north is understanding, practicality, realism — but a realism that should not be confused with the realism of later times, a realism that is still based on worldly understanding and wants to think of the earthly in connection with the heavenly — then from the south, or rather, I would say, from southern France, comes everything that can be called the mystical element, the mystical element that strives toward heaven from the earthly. And these two elements grow together. And that is precisely what is unique about Gothic art, that these two elements grow together: a mystical element and an intellectual element. No one will understand Gothic art who is unable to see in it, on the one hand, the mystical element that is concentrated in southern France, which developed particularly in the 9th, 10th, and 11th centuries and brought into Gothic art that mysterious striving from below to above. However, another element is associated with Gothic: the influx of craftsmanship and sobriety. There is something mystical about the way Gothic forms soar; the way they are joined, bound and connected, I would say, combines extreme craftsmanship with the mystical. In Gothic art, the two sides are connected in a remarkable way. And what flows into Gothic art then flows over from the West in the 12th and 13th centuries and in turn permeates Central European artistic creation. It must always be clear that, although there is a tendency in the course of culture to interweave these things, to layer them on top of each other—everything always wants to spread out—so that works originating in the Gothic style find their way into Romanesque design. But that is only one tendency.

There is always a rebellious element in Central Europe, a rebellious impulse that is particularly noticeable in art and that always seeks to powerfully shape the element of will, the element of movement, the element of expression, so that what comes in from both the south and the west is more or less always pushed back again. The Romanesque and later even the Gothic are perceived as foreign elements in Central Europe.

What is perceived as a foreign element? — Anything that seeks to destroy individuality in any way. The Romanesque is perceived as the enemy of the individual; but even the Gothic is later perceived as that under which the individual sighs and gasps. This mood is particularly prevalent in the arts, and has also found expression in another area — the Reformation — and has already found expression in such minds as Tauler and Valentin Weigel. All this means—when we see how Gothic and Romanesque styles have pushed their way into the Central European character and completely overgrown it—that in the centuries before Dürer, the Central European character in a certain sense decayed in its own impulses, unable to emerge, unable to break free, completely overgrown by the other. But it lives on. It lives on in thoughts, in sensations, in feelings. It is always there; there may be no artists to express it in a special way, but it is always there. It is the same element that speaks from the later view of nature, which wants to connect heaven and earth in an understandable way, that is, to understand everything else through laws found on earth as well.

But there is something else at work here, and one can say that what is at work has been beautifully expressed in the words that Goethe spoke and wrote down. Imagine Faust in his study, which is probably Gothic in style. But he has studied everything that can be described as Romanism. He contrasts this with human individuality, purely self-reliant human individuality. But how does he contrast this human individuality? If one wants to understand how Faust contrasts human individuality with that in which he finds himself, one must take into account that, almost unnoticed today, something continues to exist in Central Europe that connects Central Europe to the East in a grandiose way, truly connects it to the East in a grandiose way. When we read or hear today about how light and darkness, Ormuzd and Ahriman, played a role in ancient Persian culture, we take it far too abstractly. We do not think about how people in earlier times experienced this in concrete, real terms. Real light and real darkness in their interaction were truly an experience for the people of earlier times, and this experience was closer to the moment, to the impulse of movement, of expression, than to the southern impulse of form and composition of juxtaposition. Just as light and darkness are interwoven in the fabric of the world, just as light and darkness cast their effects on what walks the earth as human beings and animals, this results in a connection, felt precisely in light and darkness and then intensified by light and darkness into color, between what is soul expression in human beings and flows into movement, and what, I would say is closer to this human impulse of movement from the heavenly-spiritual than that which southern art can express. Man strides along; man turns his head. With every stride, with every turn of the head, different impulses of light and shadow occur. In the perception of the connection between movement and light there is, as it were, something that links earthly nature to the elemental. And in this interplay between the elemental and the immediately earthly, the imagination of Central European man always lived in a particularly strong way, when he was able to develop his imagination.

This is why, in a way that has received little attention to date, color in Central Europe arises in a completely different way than color in the south. The color in the south is color driven out from within the natural being, color driven to the surface. The color that arose in Central Europe for the imagination is color cast by light and dark, color cast onto the surface, color playing on the surface. Only then will we understand many things that are not yet well understood today, when we understand the difference that exists in the use of color, when we look at how color is thrown onto the object and how it comes to the surface from the object itself, from within the object, the color that has then become the artistic color of the south. The color thrown, the color that has become light and dark, the color that glitters from the undulating, surging light and dark, that is the color of Central Europe. Since things everywhere shift and layer on top of each other, these impulses are less observable, but they are definitely present.

You see, this in turn is connected in Central Europe with, I would say, the magical element, just as in Persian culture itself light and dark, light and darkness, are connected with Persian magicianry. The mysterious expressions of the soul-spiritual being, as they play simultaneously in human beings, but also play in the elemental workings and surges of light and dark, as they play around human beings and as they interact, as their inner being enters into a hidden kinship with that which surrounds them as light and dark and as a colorful being glistening out of the light and dark, that is what the element of will always holds within itself and what connects to the magical, that which the soul feels. But this also brings the human being into contact with the elemental beings, with those beings that first reveal themselves in the elemental realm. That is why Faust surrendered to magic after renouncing the philosophical, medical, legal, and theological elements coming from the south. But he must stand on his own two feet; he must not fear what one is placed in by standing on one's own personality. He must not fear hell and the devil; he must stride through light and darkness. But he himself is active and weaves – think how beautiful! – in the weaving morning light. The way this light and dark plays into Faust's monologue is something truly wonderful. But this is something that is intimately connected with the Central European impulse; it is, I would say, as much painted as it is poetized from the Central European essence.

This, in turn, creates a connection between humans and the naturalistic, elemental essence. And this trait also pushes its way into the conception of what now comes from the south with Christian traditions, revolting against what makes Central Europe related to Asia, all the way back to ancient Asian culture. These are things that interact with each other. And Dürer is placed within this development — one might say as a completely unique figure; he was born in 1471 and died in 1528.

When I studied Dürer, I could never understand him as anything other than an individual figure, placed within the whole of Central European culture, but also connected to this surrounding cultural life through countless unconscious channels linking the life of the soul with the surrounding cultural life. When Dürer began very early [1497] to model light and dark on the figure in a wonderful way in his portrait of “Jungfer Fürlegerin”

272 Albrecht Dürer Katharina Fürlegerin

in his own wonderful way, light and dark on the figure, one must certainly see in this an effect of the impulse just described. And this runs through Dürer's entire life, so that Dürer is particularly great where he wants to express what he expresses from this experience, from this very special experience of elemental nature. He also carries this into what he takes from biblical tradition. And yet it becomes hopelessly difficult for him, one might say bitterly, to adapt to the southern elements. While we sense in Leonardo how natural it is for him to take up the study of anatomy and physiology in order to gain insight into what was previously given to a more occult feeling, as I explained to you recently, we see how the same study of anatomy becomes quite difficult for Dürer. He never finds himself particularly drawn to this kind of thing, to the studied forms in which the superhuman, the divine-spiritual expresses itself through human beings, so that he in turn would create human forms out of, I might say, what God has created. That is not his way. His way is rather to pursue the impulses of the will in what exists and that which directly connects human nature with the movement outside, with light and dark and with what lives in light and dark. That is his realm. Therefore, he creates out of mobility, which is where his original imagination is directed. But this means that everyday human life also enters into the development of these impulses. An art that seeks to express primarily the divine, the superhuman, in human beings will place less emphasis on expressing through its own impulses what is imprinted on the human form in everyday life through occupation and immediate life experiences. But this is the case with Central European art, and in this respect a special impulse emanates from the regions of today's Netherlands. From there comes the particularly practical impulse, I would say, the permeation of the imagination with that which immediate earthly reality imposes on man, causing him to grow together in his gestures, even in his form, expression, and physiognomy, with the earthly.

Such impulses flow together in Central Europe in the most diverse ways. And only when one unravels them — one must of course do much more than what I am suggesting today with a few abstract strokes — does one arrive at an understanding of precisely what is characteristic of Central European art. We will still hint at individual aspects; it is not possible to say everything, but only to hint at it.

Now let us take our starting point from the age in which, I would say, the Romanesque style merged with the Central European impulse, by looking at the figures found in Naumburg Cathedral, the German Naumburg Cathedral: sculptures that express the people of that time.

349 Naumburg Cathedral Founders in the west choir: Hermann and Reglindis

In these sculptures, you can see the most beautiful fusion of spiritual expression, which is strived for with a high degree of perfection—for this is the heyday—with what has been gained from the south in terms of design. You will see this particularly in these sculptures in Naumburg Cathedral, which date from the 13th century and belong to the period in which, for Central Europe, this merging of Central European sensibility with what has been taken from Romanesque elements in design while at the same time, this Central European sensibility emerged in the creations of Walther von der Vogelweide and Wolfram von Eschenbach. If we bear in mind that this is also the period that brought the aforementioned figures of poetic creativity to the fore, then we actually have a picture of the cultural movement that swept across Central Europe.

Naumburg Cathedral, west choir

350 Wilhelm

352 Gepa

351 Dietrich

353 Maria (west rood screen)

It is precisely in such a work (353) that this spiritual quality poured into the face can be seen in a wonderful way. Also from the west rood screen of Naumburg Cathedral:

354 Naumburg Cathedral, west rood screen Johannes

It is precisely the individual spiritual expression, without being overshadowed by anything typical, that is combined here with a high level of technical perfection in terms of design, which comes from the south.

And now let us take in things that are more born of Gothic thinking, of Gothic perception, sculptures from Strasbourg Cathedral:

355 Strasbourg Cathedral Prophet

More than the others, these figures are adapted to the overall architecture. One might say that the expression here is entirely shaped from within; however, the entire design of the figures is also influenced by the architectural form, as can be observed even more clearly when one moves further west.

356 Strasbourg Cathedral The four cardinal virtues

It is a particularly characteristic feature of this period that the church is depicted as a conqueror, so that these conquered devilish and other motifs are found everywhere.

Strasbourg Cathedral

357 Christ and the wise virgins

358 The tempter and the foolish virgins

359 The Church

361 The Church, part: bust portrait

This is the representation of the “church” in Strasbourg Cathedral through this female figure, the representation of the Christian church. - Now, opposite the church, the synagogue, blind, with a wonderful gesture:

360 Strasbourg Cathedral The Synagogue

362 Part: Bust portrait

I ask you to remember not only the head and the peculiar expression, but also the whole gesture. Let us show the whole “Church” once again so that you can compare how wonderfully the ‘Church’ and the “Synagogue” contrast spiritually.

Now, as further examples of the interaction between Southern and Central European art, let us show you a few examples from Cologne art. The not very well-known “Cologne Master” — often referred to as Master Wilhelm — combines the finest drawing and design with intimacy of expression to a high degree, as can still be seen in this example.

237 Master of Veronica St. Veronica with the Sweat Cloth

and if you look at the lower figure with its forms created entirely out of movement. It is well known that the famous painting of Mary, the “Madonna with the Vetch Flower,” comes from the same source, from the same master:

238 Master of Veronica Madonna with the Vetch Flower

From this point on, I would ask you to note in all the following paintings how these masters have a strong preference not only for expressing the soul, the true soul, in the face and in the other gestures, but also in the entire formation of the hands. This period, more than any other, works on the spiritual formation of the hands. I mention this in particular because this trait reaches a special height in Dürer, who expresses with true joy everything that can be expressed spiritually in the hands. In this Cologne master, we see a truly pure fusion of the southern element of form with the Central European element of spiritual and emotional expression, and immediately afterwards, in the master who came to Cologne from Constance, Stefan Lochner, how the element of expression now rebels against the element of form, even though this master learns an extraordinary amount from the two examples just shown.

239 Stefan Lochner The Adoration of the Magi

Stefan Lochner is the one who, I would say with a certain revolutionary reluctance, being completely rooted in the art of expression, clings to what he was able to learn in Cologne from the other and his students.

240 Stefan Lochner Christ on the Cross with Saints

241 Stefan Lochner Madonna with the Violet

So this is what follows on from what we saw earlier: Lochner, who, despite all his clinging, has this new approach, a new way of creating from within. I just want to note that it is 1420 when Stefan Lochner comes to Cologne. The person who more or less became his teacher there, whom we showed earlier in “Veronica” and “Madonna with the Sweet Pea” (238), dies around 1410; then in 1420 Lochner comes to Cologne.

242 Stefan Lochner Madonna in the Rose Arbor

242 Stefan Lochner Madonna in the Rose Arbor

This wonderful Lochner painting, “Mary in the Roses, in the Rose Arbor, in the Rose Garden”—if you consider everything in this painting: the tremendous mobility of the angel figures, the attempt to bring mobility into the whole painting! — Of course, we can only show the chiaroscuro here, but what is also added is the coloration. When you see the movement that enters the picture through the spreading of the veil, from which God the Father then becomes visible, looking down on the Madonna with the Child, when you see how each angel fulfills its task and thereby brings tremendous movement into the picture, then the picture becomes a composition born of movement, while we can say that the southern impulse gives the compositional calm, that movement only enters when the northern impulse connects with it. Here you have everything in inner movement in this original Lochner painting.

Now let us show a few examples from a master who received inspiration from the West, from Flanders, and who clearly shows Western influences, namely Schongauer, who lived from 1450 to 1491, in whom you can observe the same artistic tendency—but with Western influence from Flanders:

249 Martin Schongauer Madonna in the Rose Garden

Notice how this adds a much more realistic element.

250 Martin Schongauer The Birth of Christ

253 Martin Schongauer The Temptation of St. Anthony

Essentially a visionary image, a copperplate engraving, rendered in a very realistic manner, thoroughly individual.

At the same time, it is an extraordinarily accurate imagination that enables such an artist to embody the human passions that constitute the content of temptation in such a concrete way and to place alongside the real human form that which really lives in the astral body when temptation comes upon us.

Now follows an unknown “Master of the Upper Rhine”:

254 Master of the Upper Rhine The Temptation of St. Anthony

Here you see another temptation of St. Anthony, this time in the style of Grünewald, who lived from around 1470 to 1528, and in which you can admire more or less the culmination of what has been achieved in previous endeavors: truly individual expression with skill, with artistry of the highest order, influenced in many respects by southern imagination more than Schongauer. It is very interesting to compare the two “temptations” with each other. Both depict the same thing, of course, and it could well be said that the previous picture (253) can be understood that is to say, as what appears as temptation on one day, and this picture (254) as what appears as temptation on the next day. But the motifs are not taken into consideration at all, only the artistic aspect as such, which in this artist, who is really close to Grünewald, shows an even higher degree of perfection than in the previous one.

255 Matthias Grünewald The Carrying of the Cross

256 Matthias Grünewald Isenheim Altarpiece, section: The Crucifixion

This is the central panel of the famous Isenheim Altarpiece in Colmar. Note the characteristic expressions, rendered in minute detail. Even the animal participates in the whole action. Study the flow of the soul into the hands.

257 Matthias Grünewald Isenheim Altarpiece, section: The Temptation of St. Anthony

This is a wing of the Isenheim Altarpiece. It is another “Temptation of St. Anthony.”

258 Matthias Grünewald Isenheim Altarpiece,

Part: Anthony and Paul in conversation This is the other wing of the Isenheim Altarpiece.

260 Matthias Grünewald Isenheim Altarpiece, Predella: The Entombment of Christ 259 Matthias Grünewald Isenheim Altarpiece, Predella, Part

The “Entombment of Christ” from the predella of the Isenheim Altarpiece, i.e., the lower section. These images are works of art of the most perfect character portrayal.

261 Matthias Grünewald Isenheim Altarpiece, section: The Resurrection

The “Resurrection” also belongs to the Isenheim Altarpiece.

So that would be Master Grünewald, who in a certain sense represents the pinnacle of what we see here, gradually developing from the 13th to the 15th century and up to the 16th century.

And now we move on to a completely different element, where, with relatively less skill—for Grünewald possesses great, powerful skill—an attempt is made to express precisely what I mentioned earlier, the revolutionary nature of the characteristic. We now turn to an artist who, as I said, with less skill, expresses the revolutionary impulse, brings out the spiritual, the spiritual as the soul shows it outwardly and out of everyday life—to an artist in whom this is active, Lucas Cranach the Elder:

262 Lucas Cranach the Elder. The Fountain of Youth

265 Lucas Cranach the Elder. Mary with the Child

Here you have the purest spirit of the Reformation, even though it is still a Madonna, the spirit of the Reformation, that is to say: the human aspect greatly outweighs any other consideration. Look at both the mother and the child in this regard.

266 Lucas Cranach the Elder Rest on the Flight into Egypt

264 Lucas Cranach the Elder Madonna with Grapes

This is another Cranach Madonna.

268 Lucas Cranach the Elder The Crucifixion

263 Lucas Cranach the Elder Judith with the Head of Holofernes

269 Lucas Cranach the Elder Cardinal Albrecht of Brandenburg before the Crucified Christ

The man who is painted because he is to be shown worshipping Christ; a man who stands with both feet on the ground, who expresses this spiritual impulse of the will to worship Christ, understood as this very soul expresses itself in the human mind. I believe it is also known who this man is: Albrecht von Brandenburg, worshipping Christ.

Now we come to the most eminent Central European artist, Albrecht Dürer:

270 Albrecht Dürer Self-portrait, Madrid

Another self-portrait from his youth. - Now a later self-portrait:

271 Albrecht Dürer Self-portrait in a fur coat, Munich

Study the hand again, and study how the hair is arranged in this picture to create a special chiaroscuro effect.

286 Albrecht Dürer The Adoration of the Holy Trinity

Now you have Dürer's “Holy Trinity” — Father, Son, and Holy Spirit — in his conception, which was actually born out of the spirit of the entire era, far transcending all the thinking of the time and yet dominated by the time, conceived in a way that Dürer, at the time when he was completing this very work, conceived things in his drawings; but everywhere—if you try to study it—everywhere working toward chiaroscuro in a special way, even in the drawing, and thus arranging the composition.

Now, for a specific reason, let us once again examine the so-called “Disputa,” which you are familiar with:

286a Raphael Camera della Segnatura: “Disputa”

You know, the characteristic feature of Raphael's “Disputa” is this: at the bottom, the college of theologians, who are busy absorbing theological truths; into this assembly: the revelation of the Trinity — Father, Son, and Spirit. We see, as it were, three levels: above, more and more of the spiritual beings ascend: those who have passed through death, those who have never been incarnated; we see the composition arranged in a southern style below. We remember the basic idea placed in the composition of calm, of juxtaposition. Even movement has flowed into the tranquility. — And now let us move on from this image, which we are familiar with and have already discussed, to the image of the Holy Trinity from 1511, painted by Dürer at almost the same time, which I invite you to compare in composition with the one just shown to you. The three levels, and excellently depicted, which distinguishes this painting from the previous one, painted at the same time in the south, in terms of its composition of movement. This painting is in Vienna. I have a small color reproduction here; anyone who wishes to can take a look at the small color reproduction of the painting afterwards. The color reproduction is terrible, of course, but you will get an impression of the colors that are on it—though not how they are on it.

286 Albrecht Dürer The Adoration of the Holy Trinity

This must be rejected, because it is simply not true that Dürer was influenced by what he absorbed in the south when creating this composition. On the contrary, there is ample evidence that southern painters were influenced not only by Dürer's compositions, but by northern compositional styles in general, as can be historically proven in one case, namely that Raphael had Dürer's drawings at his disposal for his “Carrying of the Cross” – at least for a later painting:

314a Raphael The Carrying of the Cross

315 Albrecht Dürer The Carrying of the Cross, Large Woodcut Passion

314 Albrecht Dürer The Carrying of the Cross, Small Woodcut Passion

Of course, this is not claimed by this painting. But the idea that Dürer was influenced in his painting should definitely be rejected, because the motif was prevalent throughout the entire period. That is why I said: The motif was widely available, and what Dürer created was entirely based on Central European influences.

284 Albrecht Dürer The Twelve-Year-Old Jesus Among the Scribes

Here we see Dürer as a master in the creation of character heads: Jesus among the scribes — but of course character heads as he knew them directly in his own surroundings.

287 Albrecht Dürer The Four Apostles, Part: John and Peter

288 Albrecht Dürer The Four Apostles, Part: Paul and Mark

The famous Munich paintings of the four apostles! What is particularly remarkable about these paintings is the sharp characterization, according to temperament and character, of the differences between the four apostles.

Albrecht Dürer

289 The Four Apostles, Part: John and Peter, Bust Portrait

290 The Four Apostles, Part: Paul and Mark, Bust Portrait

278 The Lamentation of Christ

279 The Birth of Christ, Centerpiece of the Paumgartner Altar 274 Portrait of an Old Man

280 Adoration of the Magi 282 The Feast of the Rosary

273 Hieronymus Holzschuher

This is the famous Holzschuher painting.

281 Albrecht Dürer Hercules fighting the Stymphalian birds

This painting is included here specifically because it is intended to show Dürer's conception of movement as it arises directly from human nature.

291 Albrecht Dürer Knight, Death, and the Devil

The famous picture “The Christian Knight,” as it is often called: “Knight, Death, and the Devil.” I ask you to note, especially in this copperplate engraving, how it has grown out of its time. For if you place next to this picture what I just quoted from Goethe's “Faust”:

I am smarter than all the fools,

doctors, masters, scribes, and priests;

I am plagued by neither scruples nor doubts,

I fear neither hell nor the devil

then you have this whole character who has no fear of “iodine and the devil,” but makes his way through the world. This is how he should be portrayed, the Christian knight who thoroughly rebels against doctors, masters, scribes, and priests who have entered his domain, who has to move through the world, fearing neither death nor the devil, who stand in his way and whom he leaves behind, so to speak, and continues on his path. The painting should really be called “The Christian Knight.” For death and the devil are only standing in his way; but he strides over them or past them without hesitation. The same zeitgeist from which Goethe's “Faust” monologue was consciously composed is also expressed in this engraving by Dürer.

292 Albrecht Dürer Saint Jerome in His Study

Now I ask you to observe this truly medieval room, the composition born purely out of light and darkness, which is to be consciously born out of light and darkness: the light that enters—and now the dog placed in the light; receiving the least light, sleeping, more or less in darkness: the lion, as the more willing animal, so to speak, as if dreaming and receiving a lot of light on its face; this contrast between the two animals is to be expressed by placing them in the light in different ways. And contrasting with this is Jerome himself, who also receives light, but at the same time seems to radiate light from within himself. Man and animal, saint and animal themselves contrasted by being placed in the light – even the skull. Dog, lion, saint, and skull – the entire composition arranged according to light and dark. A story of development, I would say, of the most magnificent kind, in that the figures are placed in the light in this way. And that is one of the most magnificent things about Dürer, that he brings out the compositional power that lies in the interaction of light with the object, with the being. Of course, there is more to a composition than just the main figures. But what is particularly admirable about this engraving is the way it brings out the compositional power that lies in the chiaroscuro.

293 Albrecht Dürer Melencolia I

In this copperplate engraving, I ask you to note—and of course you must take these words with a grain of salt—how this image is, in a sense, placed in the world to show what is important to Dürer in chiaroscuro, in the compositional power of chiaroscuro. He arranges, as if to show what is important to him, an angular, polyhedral body and the sphere, the round body, in order to show on the sphere how the light, which he allows to fall in his own way, interacts with the darkness. And one can study the distribution of light on the sphere. One can assume that the light effects in the arrangement of the folds of the robe correspond to the light effects as expressed on the sphere. Dürer arranges the folds in such a way that the overall arrangement expresses everything that is expressed here on the simple sphere in terms of light and dark. One can compare how differently the polyhedral body, depending on the inclination of the surface, lies in light, semi-darkness, darkness, and light. Beneath this polyhedral body, he places the creature, which has a more fleeting form, to which he gives a fleeting form, the wind chime, in order to reproduce the striking of the light on the surfaces in the same way as he depicts it above on the polyhedral body. So that everywhere one has: What does the light say to the object, what does the light say to the creature here? - What the light says can be seen everywhere, as each individual shade can be compared with the corresponding shade on the polyhedral body and the round body. With this image, Dürer has created something at the same time – there is nothing more educational than using this image if you want to teach someone how to shade. Dürer leaves the intrinsic light at the top – to the right of the bat, which bears the word “melancholy” — something that shines from within, so to speak, in contrast to the reflected light that is expressed on all other surfaces.

Interjection: Does this image have another, deeper meaning?

A deeper meaning? — Why shouldn't this be deep enough? — If one wants to study the magical mystery of light in space, this is a deeper meaning than if one now begins to interpret it in a symbolic-mystical way. This leads away from the artistic, and it is better to seek the deeper meaning that can still be found in it — for example, that there is a planetary table at the top and so on, and that all kinds of things are there — to imagine it more from the spirit of the times. It was natural at that time to put such things together. And it is better to remain in the artistic realm than to symbolize. I even believe that there is a great deal of humor in this picture, namely that, in a somewhat amateurish way, the title of the picture is intended to express the word “blackening” in a more humorous form, so that Dürer really meant the blackening when he used the word “melancholy.” . In a hidden way, the word could — as I said: amateurishly, dilettantishly — refer to “black coloring,” and not that he wanted to express anything profoundly symbolic. Rather, he was really concerned with the artistic design, with the plasticity of the light formation. And I ask you not to take this as shallow, this shaping of the light, and to provide all kinds of symbolic interpretations. Rather, the world is profound because it has such effects of light; these are generally more profound than seeking all kinds of mysticism in this painting, which is now titled “Melancholy.”

322 Hans Holbein the Younger, Self-Portrait

Now let us move on to Holbein, who is essentially different in character from Dürer. Born in Augsburg, he then lived in Basel and then lost himself, disappeared, I would say, in England. He is a realist in a special sense, in the sense that he really brings strong realism into portraiture, where he creates compositions, realism that is, however, entirely striving to express what I mentioned earlier: the everyday in the soul. I would therefore ask you to note how the milieu, the profession, and everything in which the person is involved imprints its character on the soul, and how Holbein expresses in an almost extreme manner what he wants to draw out of the soul, the way in which he creates the whole person out of his time.

324 Hans Holbein the Younger Charles de Morette

323 Hans Holbein the Younger Erasmus of Rotterdam

325 Hans Holbein the Younger The Artist's Family

326 Hans Holbein the Younger The Madonna of Mayor Meyer

Here we see again the motif of a person of that time—in this case, the mayor of Basel, Meyer, with his family—worshipping the Madonna. There is a very good copy of this painting, which is in Darmstadt, in Dresden; it is a really good copy, because for a long time it was considered to be a second version of Holbein's painting. Here we already see the realism that is particularly developed in Holbein's work, while in Dürer's work we see the elements that I tried to characterize earlier, namely universal elements.

Now three examples from Holbein's Dance of Death. Holbein is particularly significant as a painter of Dance of Death motifs:

Hans Holbein the Younger

“Dance of Death,” woodcuts

319 The King

320 The Monk

321 The Rich Man

And now, finally, I would like to show you something that is not directly related to the others, but which belongs in the overall ensemble of art that we have presented: the Madonna sculpture located in Nuremberg,

363 Unknown Master Mary (Nuremberg Madonna)

which shows in perfection everything that could be achieved in gesture and sentimentality in Central European art. This sculpture was created by an artist who is unknown. But imagine this “Mary” as part of a crucifixion group, with John as a counterpart, a large cross, Christ in the middle—in other words, this Madonna in Nuremberg as part of a crucifixion group— then you have before you a special flowering of German art, perhaps from the beginning of the 16th century. And much of the intimacy that has emerged in the Madonnas we have examined can be found here again, especially in the unique posture.

So we have tried to show you what, when viewed in the context I have attempted to suggest, brings out Dürer's artistic individuality. I would like to say that this is precisely how one learns to recognize Dürer, by viewing him in the context of what surrounded him at the time, before and after him. For more than one might think, what led to the rebellion known as the “Faustian” rebellion in another field is truly alive in Dürer in a magnificent way. A piece of “Faust” also lived artistically in Dürer. And you will always have a feeling of absorbing something of the time in which Dürer lived, from which Dürer was born, when you look at pictures such as “Hieronymus,” “Melancholy,” “The Christian Knight” — “Knight, Death, and the Devil” — and many others together with what flows from the first monologues of ‘Faust’ when we place them in the historical context in which Goethe wanted them to be placed. And I would like to say: try “St. Jerome” in particular.

292 Albrecht Dürer Saint Jerome in His Study

with images of Faust, which also exist,

564* Rembrandt Faust

then you will even find the connecting link. I really did not mean Dürer's creation out of light and dark in a banal sense. Of course, anyone who wants to imitate any piece of reality can create out of light and dark. But you have seen that Dürer attempts to evoke the composition by drawing on the magical effects of chiaroscuro. I ask you to consider this as something that pervades Dürer as one of his most characteristic features, alongside the fact that he naturally also has a longing to characterize individually, as we can see, for example, in his " Heads of the Apostles" (289, 290).

So today we have attempted to show you some of the most important monuments of medieval art, and next time we will add a few other things that, I would say, fit in here and there and which together can form a whole.