Degenerate art is a translation of the German entartete Kunst, a Nazi pejorative applied to virtually all-modern art.
If you find it odd that the Nazi’s played the role of art critics, you may not realize that the Nazi elite also saw themselves as a cultural elite, a self image that on the one hand conduced to their unprecedented plunder of European classical art, and on the other, their attempt to “purify” German art of polluting elements and “degenerate” influences.
This attempt at purging undesirable or so called decadent influences was intertwined with a belief that classical Greece and the Middle Ages were the true sources of Aryan art and (following the pattern for all Nazi ideology) that Jewish elements and influences were responsible for the wrenching changes exhibited in most modern art movements such as Fauvism, cubism, Dada and surrealism.
And this was hardly restricted to visual arts. Modern music – especially Jazz and Swing – was also labeled degenerate and singled out for repression, with many German Swingjugend, or swing kids (also the name of a movie dealing with the same topic), and French ZaZou, rebelling against Nazi control expressly through their love of swing.
Bringing this back to the setting of my novel (The Last Train from Paris), large numbers of so-called ‘degenerate art’ was not only criticized but destroyed during the Nazi occupation of France. No art lover can help but cringe to think of works by Picasso, Dalí, Ernst, Klee, Léger and Miró being tossed into the bonfire – which was exactly what happened one night in 1942 in the gardens of the Galerie Nationale du Jeu de Paume in Paris.
Of course, this didn’t stop many Nazi officials from stealing the very art their ideology derided; Hermann Göring took many valuable modern art pieces including a Van Gogh and a Cézanne. And so it was for my novel’s villain, Oberst Heinrich Lorenz, who had Matisse’s (stolen) Odalisque hanging in his hotel room, more as a trophy to be admired than a work of art to be appreciated.
To me, the relationship between both artistic theft and bigotry with fascist, racist ideologies stands out in such sharp relief that I always cringe when I hear dismissive and disrespectful remarks of “foreign” or emerging cultural expressions.
There are few things more humanizing for your mind and enlarging for your heart than to make an honest attempt to understand, appreciate, and come to enjoy art forms/styles/movements that (initially) offends your sensibilities. Going from hating rap to having a few favorite rap songs. Moving from seeing Graffiti to admiring a piece by a Keith Haring or Lady Pink. These changes represent realized opportunities for growth.
So what art forms currently turn you off or leave you cold? And would you be willing to dig deeper to understand them better?
Better yet do you have any stories of how you came to see a style of art in a new way – to move past your initial assumptions or prejudices?
