Hitler and Cigarettes

Just a small anecdote that I fell upon and that I thought fits well in our Hitler and Holocaust week.
I've been reading this French essay that is, in very short, some sort of apogee of smoking. One of the sections mention the humane dimension of the cigarette. Apparently Hitler used to be a big smoker during his youth in Vienna but he suddenly stopped and never smoked again. Hitler said of his old habit that if he hadn't stopped smoking Germany would've never known its present glory. The message the author was trying to convey here is that a cigarette or the deliberate act of doing something that has no other purpose than indulging and pleasure is a tie to humanity, once Hitler gave it up, he gave up his humanity as well.
I hope you enjoyed this little parenthesis!
The name of the essay by the way is Fumer Tue: Peut-on Risquer sa Vie? ( Smoking kills: Do we have the right to risk our lives?)

Veit Harlan (1899-1964)

There's a pretty fascinating documentary about Veit Harlan, whose life is filled with amazing twists turns.

He started out working with Max Reinhardt, the famous stage director who worked with so many of the important figures in early German cinema. His first wife, Dora Gerson, was Jewish and died in Auschwitz. His third wife was the Nazi film star Kristina Soederbaum.

His niece, Christiane Susanne Harlan, married Stanley Kubrick.

His film, "Anders als du und ich" (1957), translated as "Bewildered Youth," shows how nefarious men can use modern art and music to seduce boys into a lifetime of homosexuality! Here's a clip (without subtitles):

Re: Consistency in Nazi Propaganda

Piggybacking on Sophie's provocative post, I wanted to share with you all an image still found today throughout Germany. It's called the Judensau (Jew pig) and depicts Jews partaking in indecent activities with pigs, sometimes in consort with the devil. In many such images, they might be having intercourse with pigs, eating pig excrement or suckling from a sow. These images were created during and after the middle ages for exhibition on cathedrals, churches, and public buildings in Germany.

print of Jews suckling from a sow

similar image found on the Stadtkirche in Wittenberg, Germany

There has been much dispute over these clearly offensive images, and while in many cases they have been removed, there are still instances where German municipal and church authorities have refused to remove these "works of art." In Wittenberg, the engraving above still remains, but on the ground next to it has been placed a monument of concrete slabs with bubbles seeping up from between the cracks in the slabs, pushing them apart. It's supposed to "represent the truth that bubbles up in spite of oppression and the weight of those who try to cover it up."

Susan Sontag

One of the great American public intellectuals of the twentieth century, Susan Sontag (1933-2004) is known for her insightful and cutting edge essays, such as "Notes on Camp" (1964) and "Fascinating Fascism" (1974). In the wake of her own experience with cancer, she wrote a stunning analysis of medical discourses in Illness as Metaphor (1978); she followed this up with an analysis of the discourses surrounding AIDS in AIDS and Its Metaphors (1989). She was also a novelist, known best for The Volcano Lover. Recently the publication of her diaries has begun--in which we learn just how smart she was--at age 16!

Born in New York, Sontag grew up in Tucson Arizona. She started college at Berkeley (where she had a number of tumultuous lesbian affairs) and then transferred to the University of Chicago, where--after a ten-day courtship(!)--she married her professor Philip Rieff (who you may know as the editor of a number of important English-language Freud editions, such as Dora). They had a baby, David, who is her editor and a writer in his own right. Philip took the family to Brandeis--Susan hated it there! They divorced fairly quickly. At the end of her life, Susan was partners with the famed photographer Annie Liebovitz.

Riefenstahl References

Frequently, film makers still have recourse to Triumph of the Will when depicting images of power and empire.

Take a look at Gladiator especially the scene called "Might of Rome." It doesn't seem to be generally available on youtube, but here is a fascinating clip that gives you a sense of the links between the two films:

Similarly, many people have noted connections between imagery in the Star Wars series and Riefenstahl's movie:

Biological Segregation: The Role of Keim in Jud Süß

Last Spring, I watched Jud Süß for the National Imagination course. We had a guest speaker come in to explain to us the concept of keim, and I thought it might be interesting to some of you, so I dug up my old notes.

The emergence of the German Wissenschaft in the 19^th century became proof enough for many citizens of who belonged in their nation, and who did not. In Jud Süß, the German nation is unified through a widespread fear of the unknown “other” race and its influence on the common culture.

A nation can be made to be racially defined when biology is used as a category of life. Organic unity, a concept closely tied with a fascist nation, consists of a people united by jus sanguines – by their particular lineage or blood. This biological racism most strongly showed itself throughout history in the German nation in the form of anti-Semitism.

The concept of keim, a “seed” of sorts embedded within each race, is one of the founding principals of the notion of a biologically unified nation. The purity of a race, according to this concept, lies in its blood. The keim of each race can be either degenerative, or able to reach its full potential. Being determined that Jews had a degenerate seed, and were fully able to degrade a pure seed, members of the German nation grew frightened of “mixing” races, and possibly being the cause of destruction of their own race.

Immanuel Kant, though not the first to be anti-Semitic, was indeed the first to scientifically approach the subject, and soon after coined the term keim. Once anti-semitism made its way to the United States in the 1880s-90s, Americans gave a legal foundation to the concept, which then found its way back to Germany. The new “proven” knowledge of keim further united Germans within their particular racial category. This racial unification is shown in Jud Süß as the vallant, brave men in the council sacrifice themselves for the betterment of the country, while the Jews with their “degenerate seed” try everything in their power to destroy what harmony is there. Similarly, Oppenheimer’s attraction towards Dorothea is unacceptable because her father is unwilling to let the Jewish keim become intertwined with the pure, noble blood of his family. The Germans at the end of Harlan’s film were unified by opposing Süß Oppenheimer’s sin of attempting to degenerate the Aryan seed.

The German nation in Harlan’s film is unified by a generalized fear of the unknown “other” race, in this case being the Jews. What the German citizens fear, more so than the actual Jewish people, is the Semitic influence on the common culture. The popular belief of the German citizens in the film (and indeed the impression left on the viewer) was that the Jews were aiming to completely shift the culture of Germany by expanding their own population and performing continual cultural attacks upon them.

Oppenheimer in particular was credited with disrupting the purity of the German rationale, and provoking the nation into a state of wishing for unification through “One folk, one empire, one leader.” The alarm at the potential influence of alternate races on their treasured German culture propelled the fascist unification forward, prompting citizens of that nation to believe that their noble, virtuous, and honorable lifestyles were direly threatened.

Consistency in Nazi Propaganda

I was working on my presentation for "Jud Suss" yesterday, and I noticed how consistent the Nazi portrayal of the "evil Jew" was visually. Take a look at these posters:

This is from Jud Suss (1940).

This is from The Eternal Jew (1940).

This is a propaganda poster that came out around 1938-1939. The caption reads "The Jewish spirit undermines the healthy powers of the German people."

Clearly, there are a lot of physical similarities between these three posters (however terrible they may be). It kind of amazes me the deeper you look into Nazi propaganda, the more eerily similar you realize the anti-Semitic material was. They clearly had a very specific picture of what they wanted people to imagine Jews as, and ran with it. They also managed to gear it to just about every age group, as well: below I included a page from a horrible anti-Semitic coloring book, as well as a children's book which teaches children to identify Jews by their appearance. If you are interested in seeing more Nazi propaganda, the photo archives at the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum website have a huge collection of it.

The inscription on the coloring book page on the left reads " Do you know him? Without a solution to the Jewish question there will be no salvation for mankind." The caption on the page from the book "The Poisonous Mushroom" reads "The Jewish nose is crooked at its tip. It looks like the number six..."

Be Prepared!

Okay, time to go back to your childhood for a second and possibly ruin a little of it... check out the sequence from ~1:30-2:10ish. What do you guys think? Do you think they borrowed a little from the types of grand exhibitions portrayed in Triumph des Willens?

Internet pop culture just loves animated gifs. It is not uncommon to find movie sequences taken out of context and parodied in 1-5 second segments, and these can be used for a variety of reasons, from just-for-fun to emotional responses. Those of you who have watched Triumph of the Will already will recognize the intensity of some of Hitler's speeches, and this, coupled with his historical context, makes him an excellent target for an animated gif. Here are just a few since blogger doesn't allow animated gifs...

Definitely my favorite. :)

Leni Riefenstahl (1902 - 2003)

Leni Riefenstahl was born in Berling on August 22nd, 1902. As a child, she studied painting and took up dancing, quickly becoming famous after her first performance when Max Reinhardt recruited her for the "Deutsches Theater." After a knee injury, she moved on to film and became widely known for her roles in the films »Der heilige Berg« (1926), »Der große Sprung« (1927), »Die weiße Hölle vom Piz Palü« (1929), »Stürme über dem Mont Blanc« (1930), »Der weiße Rausch« (1931), »Das Blaue Licht« (1932, which she directed) and «SOS Eisberg» (1933). Leni directed a total of eight films in her career, including, notably, Triumph des Willens (1935), named after the Reich Party Congress 1934 in Nuremberg. It received the gold medal in Venice in 1935 and the gold medal at the World Exhibition in Paris in 1937. Unfortunately, once the war ended, Leni's career as a film director was effectively destroyed as her films were no longer seen as art but as propaganda.


Leni also had an extremely successful career as a photographer, for which she gained fame after her visit with the Nuba. Her photographs were published in the magazines »Stern«, »The Sunday Times Magazine«, »Paris Match«, »L'Europeo«, »Newsweek« and »The Sun«. She also published illustrated books »The Nuba« and »The Nuba of Kau«, which earned her further honors and awards. You can see a bunch of her photos here.


"Leni Buna Nuba" - Leni loves the Nuba
At the age of 71, Leni took up diving and began underwater photography, publishing two more books, "The Coral Gardens" and "The Wonders Under Water," receiving yet further honors and awards for them. In 1987, she published her "Memoirs", after which she continued underwater photography. In 2000 she returned to Sudan to visit her beloved Nuba, but her trip was cut short as she was forced to leave the mountains by helicopter. The helicopter crashed with no deaths and a few injuries, but Leni was taken to a German hospital where they found that she had suffered a number of rib fractures and damaged her lungs. Despite this, she continued her ambitions afterwards and lived to the ripe old age of 101.

Just taking a moment to embarrass myself.

Okay, this is my really shotty score for the Moloch scene of Metropolis. Keep in mind: this is the FIRST time I'd ever done any of this, and it is 100% computer generated sound. Also, I am NO professional!! :) I don't know why the video looks so weird, but you get the point..

The Pedal Point

The 'pedal point' is one of my favorite musical compositional techniques. Often, it is used to take a moment or a piece that is rather chaotic and harmonically unstable (meaning one can't necessarily tell which key we are in, or the piece goes through so many different key areas, that a tonic - home base - is not recognizable), then the bass plays one note repeatedly to establish a key incredibly solidly. Chaos may still exist above the pedal point, but this low note is strong and stands out. It is gravitational, in a sense. The treble becomes inferior and less important, as this bass notes influence is too strong to be argued.

Here's an example of my favorite pedal point at 1:47. Definitely listen to the whole thing to see how it fits in with the rest of the piece, but the pedal point begins at 1:47. It isn't necessarily the STRONGEST example of a pedal point, as the piece is fairly stable and easy to understand harmonically, but I think it's absolutely beautiful. Listen to how stable that bass note is. It's really quite powerful.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_mVW8tgGY_w

A dictionary definition: a note sustained in one part (usually the bass) through successive harmonies, some of which are independent of it.

Here's Kracauer's statement again: "Like a pedal point, the cry 'Elsie!' underlies these otherwise unconnected shots, fusing them into a sinister narrative" (220).

What a lovely connection Kracauer makes. This scene's pedal point, the mother's cry, is the stable "tonic" or home key of the story of the murderer, while the independent harmonies, the shots of "Elsie's unused plate on the kitchen table; a remote patch of grass with her ball lying on it; a balloon catching in telegraph wires..." (220) that may seem unconnected are tied together and stabilized.

Der Genitiv

Looking at Susan Sontag's "Fascinating Fascism," I was drawn to this passage describing the works of Riefenstahl:

The next film Riefenstahl directed after The Blue Light was not "a documentary on the Nuremberg Rally in 1934"—Riefenstahl made four non-fiction films, not two, as she has claimed since the 1950s and as most current white-washing accounts of her repeat—but Victory of the Faith (Sieg des Glaubens, 1933), celebrating the first National Socialist Party Congress held after Hitler seized power. Then came the first of two works which did indeed make her internationally famous, the film on the next National Socialist Party Congress, Triumph of the Will (Triumph des Willens, 1935)—whose title is never mentioned on the jacket of The Last of the Nuba—after which she made a short film (eighteen minutes) for the army, Day of Freedom: Our Army (Tag der Freiheit: Unsere Wehrmacht, 1935), that depicts the beauty of soldiers and soldiering for the Führer. (It is not surprising to find no mention of this film, a print of which was found in 1971; during the 1950s and 1960s, when Riefenstahl and everyone else believed Day of Freedom to have been lost, she had it dropped from her filmography and refused to discuss it with interviewers.)

Check out those titles! I'm noticing a trend here. Obviously I have not seen all of these films, but I wonder how connected they are in terms of message, feel, and intention.

Michael Jennings

We were very honored today to have Michael Jennings come visit us and give us a little insight to the inner workings of Benjamin and Kracauer. Jennings is an Associated Faculty Member of the Department of Art and Archaeology and the School of Architecture and a Faculty Associate of the Center for the Study of Religion. He sits on the Executive Committee of the Program in European Cultural Studies and the Ph.D. Program in Humanistic Studies. He is the author of two books on Walter Benjamin: Dialectical Images: Walter Benjamin’s Theory of Literary Criticism (Cornell University Press, 1987) and, with Howard Eiland, The Author as Producer: A Life of Walter Benjamin (Harvard University Press, forthcoming in 2012). He also serves as the general editor of the standard English-language edition of Benjamin’s works, Walter Benjamin, Selected Writings (Harvard University Press, four volumes, 1996ff.) and the editor of a series of collections of Benjamin’s essays intended for classroom use, including The Writer of Modern Life: Essays on Charles Baudelaire (2007); with Brigid Doherty and Thomas Levin, The Work of Art in the Age of its Technological Reproducibility and other Writings on Media (2008) ; and, with Miriam Bratu Hansen, One Way Street (forthcoming in 2012). I think it is safe to say that Jennings knows what he's talking about.

Jennings regaled us today with a peek into the literary beings behind the works of Kracauer and Benjamin, revealing to us that they are actually more closely linked than most give away in that they often shared unpublished work with one another. Jennings suggested that Benjamin was perhaps even more convoluted in his writings and Kracauer was less psychoanalytical and rather more realistic prior to the publications we are familiar with. Of Benjamin, Jennings noted that "[his] earlier writings are remarkably resistant to understanding."

Jennings outlined the evolution of the Kultur section of German papers, which was once separated by a border line (referred to as a Strich) from the top portion of the paper, from articles to the short declarations and statements they became where Benjamin became more public. He also gave us a look inside Benjamin's life, revealing to us that Benjamin was in fact never really Benjamin, but rather wore a different mask for every group of friends, keeping them as separate as possible to avoid overlap, making an allusion to the movie "I'm Not There."

Jennings used a particular word in connection to Benjamin's writings which I have had the opportunity to come across previously in my studies that I would like to elaborate a little on for those who have not yet, as I think it is a fabulous word-- two words, actually. Flâneur is the French word for someone who strolls or takes a walk, but was adopted by philosophers to be someone who wanders the world observing and taking in their surroundings in a passive effort to understand. The term is also used in photography with detached but still aesthetically attuned street photography. Flânerie is therefore the practice of this behavior/lifestyle.

I encourage you to check out Jennings' work here at his Princeton page.

What did you guys think of Michael Jennings' talk? Were there any questions you wish you had asked?

August Sander (1876-1964)

Benjamin also mentions Sander's encyclopedic series of photographs of people. Here are just a few of the thousands of human types that Sander photographed:

The New Woman

The Soldier

Painters

 Brick Layer

Early Photographs

 .... of the kind that Benjamin discusses in his Little History of Photography.

A composition by Daguerre, full of what Kracauer might call "mute objects":

And a photography by Atget, perhaps supporting Benjamin's final claim, "But isn't every square inch of our cities a crime scene?"

Thea von Harbou (1888-1954)

Thea von Harbou was Fritz Lang's companion and fellow artist throughout the 1920s. She worked with him on both Metropolis and M. The married in 1922. Harbou joined the National Socialist party in 1932. She stayed in Germany and in the German film industry, writing the script for the 1937 film Der Herrscher [The Ruler], directed by Veit Harlan and starring Emil Jannings.

Peter Lorre (1904-1964)

Peter Lorre's performance in M (1931) brought him worldwide attention. As a Jew, Lorre emigrated from Germany when Hitler and the Nazis came to power, moving to Paris, London and eventually Hollywood.

In Hollywood, he frequently played slightly unctuous, sleazy, foreign villains--perhaps most notably in The Maltese Falcon and in Casablanca. He was one of the first villains in a James Bond movie.

After the War, he directed a film called Der Verlorene [The Lost One, 1951] in Germany.

Here he is, sending up himself a bit, in the trailer for Mad Love. Lorre's persona was easy to spoof and there are lots of cartoon versions of him.

Fritz Lang's Depiction of a Lynch Mob in Fury (1936)

Lang has a constant interest in the phenomenon of the mob. In Fury (starring Spencer Tracy and Sylvia Sidney, above), he redevelops some of the themes of M, in an American perspective. Once again, you have the mob, thinking it knows what is right; once again, you have a weak state that is scarcely able to provide actual rigorous law and order. And once again, you have a reversal of expectations--while in M, we end up sympathizing with Peter Lorre's character, in Fury, the persecuted outsider becomes bitter and evil and we start feeling sorry for the mob that lynched him.

As in M, we have echoes of fascism--the burning courthouse is like the burning Reichstag.

Here's the lynch scene.

And here's the trailer.

Influences of Lang's "Metropolis"

I work in the Resource Library in the Traina Center, and part of my job is working with our database that lists the names of all the films in the library. I was checking out Metropolis one day, and I noticed that we had multiple entries for the film. After doing a little research, I found quite a few different things that were influenced by Metropolis (ending with a producer buying the rights in 2007 for a possible adaptation!).
According to Wikipedia, Since 1927, two musical theater adaptations of the film have been performed. The first was at the Piccadilly Theater in London in 1989. The most prominent change to the story was anglicizing the German names of the characters: for example, Joh Fredersen became John Freeman, etc. The score was updated and change, and then performed again in 2000 at the Pentacle Theater in Salem, Oregon.
In 2002, Osamu Tezuka's 1949 manga was converted to a feature length anime film, Metropolis. This manga (and film) were said to have been influenced by Fritz Lang's film, but follow a slightly different plot line.

In 2007, producer Thomas Schühly bought the rights to remake the film (no word on where this has gone quite yet).
In addition, a few musicians have pulled inspiration from this film. Madonna's music video for "Express Yourself" pulls influence from the film, as well as Queen's "Radio Ga Ga," which features scenes from the movie in the video.

Link to the Madonna video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GsVcUzP_O_8&ob=av2e
Link to the Queen video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t63_HRwdAgk

Water

http://www.putlocker.com/file/38127240301DFEBB#


<iframe src="http://www.putlocker.com/embed/38127240301DFEBB" width="600" height="360" frameborder="0" scrolling="no"></iframe>

Water, 2005. dir. Deepa Mehta

This is a Canadian/Hindi film that I saw this movie in my senior year of high school, and it is amazing. It is about the caste system in India, and how a widow becomes the lowest caste if her husband dies. This happens to a girl who is less than 10 when her arranged husband dies, and she is forced to become a beggar and prostitute.

I am sharing it in the blog here because the ending of M (where the three women in black say we need to watch our own children) is extremely similar to the ending of this film. I recommend you watch this entire movie, but if not, fast forward to about an hour and 45 minutes into the movie, and watch the scene I am talking about.

Both scenes are really moving, and very well done.

C'mon Krakauer, step it up!

M was a really good film, and I thought it was very well rendered to show some very strong points. The whole society in M is foreshadowing of National Socialism, and the Nazi control. The beggars and lower people of society are asked to show their papers, aka their birth certificates. Early in their control, Nazi's required people to carry their birth certificates to prove whether or not they were Aryan. Also, in the same scene, one man has a newspaper sticking out of his pocket. The police inspector does not like the article he sees on the front page, so, despite the man having accurate papers, he is sent to the precinct. Although not directly a Nazi tendency, this is an overt abuse of power, which most individuals would see and associate with the Nazis.

Later, the beggars and criminals become the authority while holding the Kangaroo court. In banding together, they have discovered the common enemy, and decided to persecute him. Lorre's speech, explaining there is nothing he can do to help it calls for some sympathy, and understand. He is sick, but everyone demands his head. One must commend Lang for doing an excellent job capturing the alienation that Hans Beckert is suffering. I feel the theme of alienation and persecution ties very strongly into the Nazi persecution of the Jews during World War II.

In reading Krakauer after having seen M, I was a little bit unimpressed. The only reason I can see for this is the safety of Beckert when the police come and hand him over to an Asylum. Nazis would have sent the mentally insane to a concentration camp. I still disagree with Krakauer not mentioning these themes. Thoughts?

Fritz Lang

Fritz Lang was born in 1890 in Vienna, Austria, to a Jewish mother and Catholic father. Lang briefly attended the Technical University of Vienna, studying art, after which Lang began working at UFA.

Works that Lang directed have helped clarify the Film Noir genre, through the common themes of psychological conflict, paranoia, and alienation. While in Germany, Lang produced some of his better known films, such as M (1931), Metropolis (1927), and Die Nibelungen (1924).   

Lang left Germany shortly after Hitler came to power. Before leaving, however, Lang was offered a career with UFA when Joseph Goebbels, a Nazi Propagandist, banned Lang's The Testament of Dr. Mabuse. Lang moved to France for a period, directing one film there, before moving to Hollywood. In Hollywood, Lang produced several films, none of which were as well received as his earlier German works. These films have more recently become important in the Film Noir history.

In the late 1950's Lang returned to Germany to continue directing there. In Germany, he remade The Indian Tomb, and directed The Thousand Eyes of Dr. Mabuse, the final Dr. Mabuse film.

In 1976 Fritz Lang died, a very prolific and innovative director. During his life, Lang was supposedly difficult to work with. During the final scene of M, Lang pushed Peter Lorre down a set of stairs to make Lorre look more battered.

Mel brooks parody

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Uai7M4RpoLU

Maedchen in Uniform (1931)

Thanks to youtube user youhoofilm, this German classic is all on youtube with very clear subtitles!

Is this film truly one of the first lesbian narratives? My mind was briefly swayed - both Kracauer and a friend of mine see only the Prussian authoritative side of the film rather than sexual chemistry - but I conclude that it is about lesbian love. We can certainly queer texts with our modern lenses, but there is evidence that points to its queerness being intentional, especially with the changes in the 1958 remake.

This scene, starting at about six minutes into part three, seems about as blatantly sexual as one can get in 1931. [Note: 1958 scene differs!] Manuela is the only girl who gets a kiss on the lips! Furthermore, some of the language in the dialogue could be further examined. The quotes page on IMDB has a couple key points to both authority and lesbian love.

I believe this must be the original poster for the film:

And lastly here's a link to quite an in-depth post about the film.

Happy Valentines Day!

And here's a love song for all of you ....

Sternberg and Dietrich

Josef von Sternberg (1894-1969) made seven films with Marlene Dietrich. For better or worse, this became one of the paradigmatic director/actress relationships, serving as a model for Quentin Tarantino and Uma Thurman, for instance.

Although born in Vienna, Sternberg actually spent much of his youth in the US, and began his career in the States. He worked with Emil Jannings in The Last Command (1928). Jannings brought him to Berlin to make the first major German sound film, The Blue Angel.

There he discovered Dietrich, brought her to Hollywood, and made a series of increasingly sexy films with her.

In Morocco (1930), Dietrich cemented her mannish, androgynous image, and gave us one of the great woman-woman kiss scenes in Hollywood history.

The Manns

The Blue Angel is based on Heinrich Mann's Professor Unrat. Heinrich Mann (1871-1950) was a prolific German novelist with leftist tendencies who emigrated once the Nazis came to power in Germany. His brother Thomas Mann (1875-1955) was also a novelist, received the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1929, and also fled Germany as soon as the Nazis came to power. Both of them moved to Hollywood in the 1930s, although Thomas ended up moving to Switzerland at the end of his life.

Thomas's children with his wife Katja are also quite interesting. Erika (1905-1969) and Klaus (1906-1949) were in their 20s in the 1920s and led the glorious glamorous life of the jeunesse dorée in the Berlin of the Weimar Republic.

In the 1930s, they were active against the Nazis. Both emigrated to the United States and served in the military. Klaus Mann's Mephisto, a roman à clef about the actor Gustaf Gründgens, who is portrayed as a typical artist ready to compromise with the Nazis, became a beautiful 1981 film directed by István Szabó.

The Allegory of Folly

While reading Kracauer this morning, a certain section on page 216 caught my attention: the description of Professor Rath as he cockcrows and becomes morally corrupt. I had a bit of a flashback to a research aper I wrote about a work in the Worcester Art Museum, and I thought it might be fun to share some of the main points.

Europe’s “Age of Enlightenment,” known more specifically in the Netherlands as the “Golden Age,” came during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries; scientific literature and economic growth led to the creation of a large, prosperous middle class. The newly ‘luxurious’ lives of the bourgeoise during Europe’s Baroque period in the seventeenth century were often a source of uncertainty and even embarrassment to the populace. The solution? Artists created allegorical and still-life moralizing scenes. These paintings “engaged serious questions of moral judgment, temptation, self-definition, and individual responsibility, which confronted those who operated within a world of economic allure and exchange” (Honig, 170).

Paintings from this time centered on material culture, and hidden symbolism pointed to commonplace religious and traditional moral beliefs. One such example is the Flemish painter Quentin Metsys’ Allegory of Folly from c. 1465-1530. Both Dutch and Flemish art was “essentially Protestant in outlook” (Finlay, 52), and incorporated much hidden symbolism throughout, which appealed to the swelling middle class. Such moralizing scenes often used imagery of the Five Senses, the Seven Sins, and vanitas to convey messages to the public, such as the dangers inherent in worldly pleasures. This ties in with the reemerging theme in Kracauer about German’s falling into bouts of sexual excess during times of emotional withdrawl. One example? How the “foolish” Professor Rath was “driven by moral indignation and ill-concealed sex jealousy…into her den; but instead of putting an end to the juvenille excesses, he himself succumbs to the charms of Lola Lola…” (Kracauer, 216).

Folly, as a common theme throughout Europe but particularly in Antwerp, was a frequent topic in Baroque paintings. Metsys made use of the method of “instruction through ridicule” when convincing his audience of the merits of being righteous in his painting. Folly, as seen here, is shown as a combination between the two common yet contrasting representations of himself: a stupid or “mentally handicapped” character identified by the “stone of folly” lump on the forehead, who was generally seen in courts for entertainment purposes; and the witty and satirical comedian who dresseed as a fool to make fun of society’s own follies. The cockerel coming out of his head was used as a common symbol of ‘the fool’. Remind you of anyone? Professor Rath in The Blue Angel also played the fool, and with his “wonderful imitation of cockcrowing,” eventually led to his ultimate “humiliation” and characterization as a “madman.”

Rich with symbolism, Allegory of Folly alludes to the insults directed to and coming from fools, which may lead one to the conclusion that Metsys was hinting at society’s duplicitous nature. Folly’s traditional “fool’s costume” in itself is even ripe with meaning. The ears of an ass, belled cap, red belt, and staff, all enhance the comical nature of the fool, and invite the viewer to poke fun at the character’s expense. (Ahem!) Prof. Rath was also laughed at, during his cock-crowing performance, and it came at the expense of his sanity and his character.

Folly’s staff, also know as a marotte, contains a protruding miniature figure of none other than himself; the carved effigy of the fool mimics his model, detectable by the matching cap. The marotte’s figure is shown in the profane act of pulling down his pants, which reiterates the derogatory disposition of the fool, while simultaneously insulting society itself against its own follies. Again, back to Professor Rath: He originally looked down upon the rest of society, especially his students, for their immoral dispositions. And yet, he himself became immoral in the same light. A juxtaposition became present of his degraded position and his superior mindset.

Folly holds his forefinger to his lips, which seems almost to contradict the satirical nature of the cretin, given that silence during the time that Metsys painted this work was widely considered to be associated with wisdom and educated persons. However, not to stray too far from the theme of contradictory façades of both Folly and Flemish society, Metsys incorporated a phrase “Mondeken toe” (translated to mean “keep your mouth shut”) immediately adjacent to the raising finger. Rath, too, kept silent for quite a bit of The Blue Angel. Long stretches of time passed before he addressed his students, and even when he had something to say, he used few words. Possibly an allusion to his educated status.

The subject in Allegory of Folly is unsightly and misshapen. The over-exaggerated deformities – a hunched back, crooked nose, lumped forehead, and crinkly, decrepit skin – repels the audience, while at once intriguing them, and making them unable to look away. The allure of such a painting lends into the theme of the audience’s own vanity, also associated with the moral instruction of this composition. The association here to the professor? Remember how his appearance changed over the years, and how he eventually became the clown. The grotesque, wrinkly-foreheaded, large-nosed, scarred clown. I think that the same elements of his version of the fool that were present in Metsys’ painting are what drew his hometown audience in.

Examples of human folly in other such paintings include the succumbing to sin and the Bacchic indulgence in revelry and sexual appetite.

Sorry for the length – I really tried to cut it down to just the relevant points.

Metaphor Time with the Clown

The aspect of The Blue Angel that made the biggest impression on me was the motif of the clown. The first time he showed up, I was like, Whoa, that’s a little creepy. The next time, I wondered if there was a connection. When he kept returning to the scenes, I wondered if it was only Professor Rath that could see him. Was he a figment of his imagination? A subconscious ghost of sorts, foreshadowing his future?

So, obviously, when Rath himself became the clown, I had a fit. Metaphor time!

Madly curious, I searched the lovely JSTOR for other opinions, and came across this article by Geoffrey Wagner, which answered a lot of my questions.

He writes

“From the outset, in fact, the professor is haunted by the figure of the clown in the background, for he, the man of ideals, is himself a clown in the world of The Blue Angel.”

A-ha! So he became the clown as Lola, the 1930s rendition of Pandora, slowly destroyed him. This brought me back to thoughts from Ashley’s speech, in which she talked about the film Der Büsche der Pandora from 1929, in which Lulu’s sexual ambition and thoughtlessness destroyed lives around her, and eventaully her own. Lola was a bit luckier though, and escaped with her life.

Rath was insecure about the continued sexual nature of Lola’s work, and he was ultimately destroyed by that. The last lines that Lola sings in the film (no subtitles, unfortunately) are translated as “when a man burns in lust, who can find him salvation?”

Symbolic, no?
Wagner also makes the connection between Rath’s burning lust and his ripping off of the calendar days with a hot curling iron. So that explains the smoke then. And it only got smokier throughout the years, signifying his growing jealousy.

Let’s tie it all together, shall we? So because Rath was reduced to a sad, empty version of himself via Lola’s sexual prowess, and was forced to return to his hometown in such a state, he became the essential clown – the fool. He was humiliated, eggs were cracked onto his forehead, he watched as his wife hooked up with another man. He was ridiculed by all those he used to think below him. This degradation reminds me of the human perception of aura concept from Walter Benjamin’s “The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction” – he was happy when he believed himself a man of culture, not a fool. He was still cultured, but because of his new job as a literal clown, in combination with his lack of money and being supported by woman, he was a fool. His aura was corrupted.

The article connects the film to Kracauer’s beloved chaos theory with the following quote:

Thus at the beginning, when the professor first enters, the cabaret is shown as chaotic, almost surrealistic, with its whirling clouds, miasmic veisl, and shifting backdrops; at the end, when he is part of it, it is steady, and brutal in its clarity.

Wagner also goes into the topic of “sex and sadism, individual and social” as being the “main themes of The Blue Angel,” if you’re interested in reading more about that.

Marlene Dietrich

"I dress for myself. Not for the image, not for the public, not for the fashion, not for men." -Marlene Dietrich

“A strange combination of the femme fatale, the German Hausfrau and Florence Nightingale" is how the film director Billy Wilder described this remarkable woman. Marlene Dietrich (1901-1992) was a German-American actress and singer who moved to Hollywood in 1931 and maintained her long career by continually reinventing herself.

Born in Schoeneberg, Germany, Dietrich originally wanted to be a concert violinist but when that dream failed, ventured onto the Berlin stage in the early 20’s during which time she appeared as a chorus girl with vaudeville style entertainments and acted in silent films. In 1929 she was cast as 'Lola-Lola' in The Blue Angel, directed by Joseph von Sternberg. Her performance brought her international fame and resulted in her move to Hollywood and subsequent contract with Paramount Pictures. According to Wikipedia, Paramount sought to market Dietrich as a German answer to MGM's Swedish sensation, Greta Garbo. Going on to star in six more films directed by von Sternberg, Dietrich’s glamour and exotic looks were legendary and made her one of the highest paid actresses of the era.

Dietrich was both and iconic image on screen and in the fashion world. She was bisexual and created her own style with her seductive look and androgynous wardrobe. In regards to her image, film critic Kenneth Tynan said, "Her masculinity appeals to women and her sexuality to men." She famously stated once, "Don't ever follow the latest trend, because in a short time you will look ridiculous, don't follow it blindly into every dark alley. Always remember that you are not a model or a mannequin for which the fashion is created." While she wore beautiful and outlandish costumes on screen, in real life she often wore comfortable menswear. Dietrich was the first Hollywood actress to wear trousers in public and helped make them more acceptable for women.

Dietrich’s life was described as “more dramatic, more unpredictable and more colorful than any Hollywood scenarist could invent.” While she married assistant director Rudolph Sieber, and the couple had a child, Marie Elisabeth Sieber, Dietrich maintained an unending string of affairs throughout her career (almost all of which were known to her husband!). Her male lovers included John Wayne, Jean Gabin, Maurice Chevalier and Generals Patton and Gavin. Her lesbian love affairs included that with Marcedes de Acosta, the socialite who had also been partners with Greta Garbo.

And to end with, here's just a couple of fun facts to know about Dietrich:

• Dietrich refused a lucrative contract from Nazi officials to return to Germany as a foremost film star in the Third Reich and instead chose to apply for U.S. citizenship in 1937.
• Among her many conquests, Dietrich slept with Joseph von Sternberg, the very man who helped bring her to fame.
• After much success in the first half of the decade, she was labelled "Box Office Poison" in the late 30's along with others like Fred Astaire, Joan Crawford and Katherine Hepburn.
• Her legs were insured by Paramount for 1 million dollars!

For more images of the alluring Dietrich, click here.

Benjamin's Aura and Popular Culture

Since I haven't had time to watch "The Blue Angel" yet, I've found an interesting article to keep you all occupied in the mean time. Nothing too taxing, just some thoughts from a fellow blogger that connect Benjamin's discussion on aura with popular culture.

Benjamin writes about the "aura" or basic essence that an object or piece of art carries. With the mechanical reproduction of art, he refers to a loss or aura. As we discussed in class though, Benjamin didn't necessarily view this as a bad thing since creativity, genius, and the prestige connected with high end art could be utilized for the Fascist cause.

After reading Benjamin's "The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction," I couldn't help but see connections to popular culture, particularly themes the permeate the novels of science fiction writer Philip K. Dick. This connection is most noticeable when it comes to the discussion on authenticity. Benjamin discusses film and photography's impact on art, and how the original is no longer important once quality replicas of the original can be produced on a large scale. While some of the basic essence of an object is lost with replication, the replicas do in fact get infused with what we might call the "mirror image equivalent" of aura, which is then projected on the masses.

Philip K. Dick's novel, "The Man in the High Castle" strikes a similar cord when the characters examine counterfeit objects and note that their value doesn't so much lie in their authenticity as the story and history attached to that given object. It doesn't matter if it's real, it just matters that the people think it holds importance and historical significance.

Here are two short passages from the book that tie in with this topic of authenticity and aura. Keep in mind that it is science fiction.

“Listen. One of these two Zippo lighters was in Franklin D. Roosevelt’s pocket when he was assassinated. And one wasn’t. One has historicity, a hell lot of it. As much as any object ever had. And one has nothing, can you feel it?” He nudged her, “You can’t. You can’t tell which is which. There is no ‘mystical plasmic presence,’ no ‘aura’ around it.”

" Its all a big racket; they are playing it on themselves. I mean, a gun goes through a famous battle, like the Meuse-Argonne, and it's the same as if hadn't, unless you know. It's in here." He tapped his head. "in the mind, not the gun..." (Dick, p. 57).

So if authenticity doesn't matter and the aura is "in the mind of the beholder," then do we even need the original? What do you guys think? Do films, photographs, recordings of a live musical performance successfully convey the original's aura to you? I'd love to hear your thoughts, as well as reactions to other parts of the blog linked above.

Treats in Store: Werner Herzog

OK, so Stefanie and Cody ask "What's German?" about Berlin Symphony of a Great City? Good question! I think it is very German, but it's too late, so I can't give an answer as to why right now.

In the meantime, though I'll give you something as German as Kaesepaetzle and Bier: Werner Herzog on chickens.  Watch it!! It's only 40 seconds, and you'll love it.

And once you're done with that, then I guess you're going to have to watch Werner Herzog on "Where's Waldo?" (Although I don't think this actually is Werner Herzog.... but then who "actually is" Werner Herzog?

What Makes it German?

So I'm going to start by giving full credit to Cody for bringing this question up in the German Discussion section yesterday.

He asked a question which I found to be a really weighty one:

What makes Berlin: Symphony of a Great City a specifically German film?

We couldn't quite pinpoint it. People worked in factories all over the world in that age. Animals didn't fight exclusively in Berlin.

So what was it?

Someone suggested it was the nightlife, the general public attending shows, and the presence of the new woman.

But those things weren't exclusively German either...

So maybe the 'Germanness' comes from how it influenced other films down the road, right?

....I actually have no idea.

Walter Benjamin (1892-1940)

One of the most important critics and intellectuals of the twentieth century, Walter Benjamin is the author of numerous significant essays on popular culture. We will begin with "The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction" (1936).

Benjamin died in the Pyrenees fleeing from Nazis. It is generally thought that he committed suicide when caught on the border, but the film Who Killed Walter Benjamin (2005) argues differently.

Louise Brooks in Pabst's "Pandora's Box"

Perhaps one of the purest embodiments of the New Woman, Louise Brooks (1906-1985) was an American star who moved to Berlin in the 1920s to star in a number of films by Georg Wilhelm Pabst (1885-1967).  Here's a fun tribute to her, with lots of stills.

In Pandora's Box (1929), based on shocking plays by Frank Wedekind, she plays Lulu, perhaps the greatest femme fatale ever!

The movie features one of cinema's first lesbians, the Countess Geschwitz, and includes a charming dance between the two.