Abstract: | This work revisits an issue of Neue Jugend published in Berlin in June 1917 under the creative direction of John Heartfield and George Grosz. Outspoken in their criticism of both the war and bourgeoise salon art, the pair had, by this time, formed a dynamic, creative alliance; anglicised their names in protest against the prevailing anti-English sentiments and, along with Hülsenbeck, Höch and Hausmann, introduced Dada into Berlin. The June issue, which would prove to be the last, was published a month after Grosz had been discharged from the front, and his written contributions offer hint of a troubled soul grappling with the sharp edges of modernity. Set in a variety of typefaces, weight, and colour, Heartfield's handling of Grosz's essays could be interpreted as a celebration of the city, yet suggest, on a deeper level, a sharing of trauma; the suggestion that both were traumatophiles seeking to avert shock through the creation of shock. As a child, Heartfield and his three siblings had been abandoned in a forest by their parents, who they were never to see again. Raised by a local family, John was a lover of the countryside, yet prone to bouts of sudden anger: a trait he was to channel into his work. In contrast, Grosz was suave, urbane, and comfortable in the city. Yet, when he returned from the front, he would reflect how life in the trenches had 'split his nerves in two.' The format is derived from a double-page spread of Neue Jugend, as it may have sat on the print bed, with the 'American' format of 640x520mm larger than the ubiquitous Berliner. The left-hand page - into the forest with John - adopts the structural form of a familiar Brothers Grimm story and is built from fragments of text, with sources including Schiller, Goethe, Goebbels, Breton, and Tzara, as well as a well-known German nursery rhyme. Set in code, it anticipates how Heartfield and Grosz - both pioneers of emerging technology – might handle such content today. The right-hand page - into the city with George - presents passages from the Grosz essays published in the June issue: Kannst du radfahren? (Trans. Can you ride a bicycle?) and Man muß Kautschukmann sein! (Trans. You have got to be a rubber man!). In these texts, Grosz calls forth the future artists: those 'rubber' men and women adept at navigating the city, adapting the signs and strategies of advertising to their own, politically charged agenda. |
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