Introduction 

 

The themes of this essay relate to the misconception that there is such thing as ‘bad art,’ specifically in relation to modern and contemporary art, abstract expressionism, and similar art styles, and throughout this text I will explore the ways in which the German National Socialist party utilised art criticism to further the spread of fascism before and throughout the second world war. The concept of bad art has, no doubt, existed for as long as humans have created art and held personal opinions, but the concept of bad art is different— the idea that not only the presentation of the artwork, the skills of the creator, or the result of the work and effort are faulty, but that the artwork itself, in its entirety, from inspiration to presentation, from idea to display, is bad— is a different statement, commenting or implying that the artwork at its core is nothing worth looking at or worth having around, a notion that, even if unintentional or inadvertent, is directed at the artist at their core, resulting in dehumanisation— a key manipulation aspect in the spread of fascism, which has reared its head in a digital comeback in recent years and forces many to fight for their place in the world. For many, merely existing is inherently an act of resistance, and in turn, so is creation. Creation is resistance, and resistance is survival. 

 

Chapter I — Inside Art’s Box

 

Art by definition is the application of human creative skills to portray beauty or emotion. The main consensus of what art is is generally applied to classical art— paintings, drawings, sculptures— but in recent years, the definition of art has become more and more lenient and flexible, allowing non-classical artworks to be included and respected within the field. These artworks were welcomed alongside new theories and concepts of what art could be rather than what it has been, including forms of art that are still finding their way to acceptance among non-artists and within less progressive artistic environments, like performance, installation, and the ever-perplexing conceptual art.

 

Today, there is plenty of debate over what does and does not count as art, particularly online, where non-artists can join arguments in comment sections and quote tweets, voicing their opinions even if they are aware that they don’t have the experience or education to back their arguments; most of their reasonings stem from their personal opinions, which, of course, is allowed, but when their opinions shift from That’s ugly/boring/childish, I hate it to I can’t believe people think this is art, this is where the discussion gets tricky. 

 

Artwork is created with the intention of being art, whether it’s a piece that takes time and skill like a realistic oil painting, or something that’s thrown together quickly, like an improvised abstract sculpture, no piece is more worthy of the label art than another. It goes beyond just being nice to creators who haven’t developed their skills as much as another has, as some social media users seem to think— criticising artwork is all fair game, even if it may be rude at times, until the critiques turn to exclusion. 

 

When the definition of what ‘counts’ as art is limited to the inside of a box, we will find that expression itself is limited. Without the ability to, for example, throw paint at a wall and say This is how I feel about the current situation, artists who want to express their inner turmoil (or any other internal feelings and emotions; artwork is not only limited to angst and despair) are limited to frowny faces and excruciatingly straight-forward works that says I AM UPSET! Regardless of what is and isn’t permitted, any artist will tell you that there is very little that can be done by anybody without an ounce of criticism from anybody else, be it another artist or a non-artist with strong opinions.

 

No art is created with every soul on Earth as the target audience. Art doesn’t need to be understood at all, much less by everyone who lays eyes on it— it needs to be respected as art. It doesn’t need to appeal to someone personally, nor does it need to appeal to anybody at all, excluding the instance in which the artwork might be a gift or a commission. Art that is displayed, whether it be in museums or on the walls of an abandoned house, is displayed with the foremost intention of simply being art— expressed with the sole intention of existing. 

 

Most artwork has intentions that reach beyond this, possibly intending to evoke emotional reactions from the audience or viewers, or to have a political impact, but it’s not possible for these to be felt or understood by every individual that lays eyes upon the work. It is impossible for any piece of art to be created in a way that will appeal to every individual that looks at it. Even the most iconic of pieces have their haters. 

 

A single person’s opinion does not detract from anybody else’s opinions, nor does it have the ability to change whether or not something is art. Even if an art piece is vulgar, brash, childish or gaudy, it remains art— this cannot be changed, regardless of anyone’s opinions. Similarly, an artwork’s location does not change the reality that it is art. The location or environment that it’s in and the manner of presentation or display may certainly alter the way in which the artwork is perceived, and it may impact the artist’s intended message. 

 

Possibly the only unchanging and unchangeable reality of artwork, regardless of materials, mediums, or meanings, is that it is art. Even if it is not recognised as artwork, such as in cases of graffiti or street art, only the artist has the power to make the decision of whether or not their work is art. 

 

Artwork does not need to be straightforward in any way. There is no rulebook around what is and isn’t art, and there are no referees or judges to decide if something is not art. One of the key features of art, something that makes art as a whole so beautifully distinct and unique, is the fact that what strikes a chord in one viewer may strike a different chord in another, and may not strike any chord at all in another. Art is a song that plays at different frequencies for anyone who wants to listen to it. 

 

A prime example: Untitled (Portrait of Ross in L.A.) by Felix Gonzalez-Torres (see fig. 1). A pile of candy to some viewers— colourful and vibrant but otherwise insipid, perhaps an opportunity to snag a free piece of candy. Poignant to others— a work memorialising a man lost to the AIDs crisis of the 80s. And to others, those who identify with it, those who know it— a portrait of a loved one. A colourful open wound and a deep ache. To state that this “pile of candy” is not artwork is a slap in the face to anyone who feels this artwork in their soul, who leaves the space with a piece of candy lingering in their chest. 

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Figure 1

Gonzalez-Torres, Felix. ““Untitled” (Portrait of Ross in L.A.),” 1991. Installation of wrapped candies equating to ~175 lb. (Art Institute of Chicago, Chicago, IL.)

 

To these people, the artwork resonates so because it is queer art— this is what makes it so heavy for some, what makes it stay with them even when they leave, even if they are just seeing the piece in online photos. As author Baylee Woodley states in her article about the iconic artwork, “...it is about one queer body and simultaneously so many queer bodies…” The exclusion of this work within the arts would suggest that Gonzalez-Torres himself is not an artist on the basis that his work is queer— His work does not reside within the taut limits of is and is not, it is not ‘classical’ work that depicts acceptable topics in acceptable ways, and thus, it is not art. Thus, he is not an artist. Queers are not welcome within the is box. 

 

Artists feel this exclusion strongly; in a way, it is said quietly, subtly, that the exclusion of certain artists’ work, the exclusion of this representation, is more important than the artwork existing at all. The art world can feel like a maze, vague and uncertain in what route we are allowed to follow, what is and is not art, what can be done but cannot be considered artwork. Artist Helen Chadwick said of her own work in 1996, “What a wicked thing to do and call it art! In a way it is more wicked to call it art than to do the thing in the first place.” 

 

The inside of art’s box is painted with escape attempts.

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Chapter II — Degenerate Art

 

It’s common knowledge that Hitler was an artist, and it’s common knowledge that he was repeatedly rejected from art school due to his lack of understanding of perspective and shading (auctioneers today state that although his paintings sell for thousands of euros, they hold “no artistic value”), but it’s less known that the Nazi party went on an art rampage before and during the second world war, very similar to the notorious book burning, and that a key method they utilised in manipulating the German public relied on art criticism. 

 

In 1937, four years after the Nazi party came into power, they put on two art exhibitions: the first, called Große Deutsche Kunstausstellung— The Great German Art Exhibition— hosted classical artworks that Hitler himself approved of, classical art pieces depicting romantic landscapes, soldiers and portraits of the Nazis’ vision of the perfect human; white, blonde, thin. The men were strong and stoic, the women delicate and dainty. 

 

The second exhibition was called Entartete Kunst— Degenerate Art. This show presented over 650 paintings, sculptures, prints, and books, and demonstrated to the public what work was considered “un-German.” The work in this exhibition had originally been shown in the artists’ home countries as treasures, as masterpieces reminiscent of their home. But in Munich, under the eyes of the German people manipulated by Hitler and his party, the artworks were displayed as a freak show, as curiosities and horrors to gawk and stare at. The exhibition was put on with the precise intention of making the German people feel above the different cultures and art styles that were displayed, particularly in comparison to the works shown at the “Great German” exhibition. The juxtaposition of the classical European artworks compared to the more abstract and distinct Asian, African, and indigenous artwork was bold and loud. 

 

Over two million people visited Entartete Kunst in just four months, and over the next three years, the show travelled through Germany and Austria, racking up another million visitors with its curious intrigue and free entry. Allegedly, there were five times as many visitors to Entartete Kunst as there were to the Große Deutsche Kunstausstellung. 

 

Hitler and the Nazis felt that the perceived decline in the quality of artwork was due to the decline in humanity— the titling of the exhibition Degenerate was deliberate and delivered a transparent message to the German people: these artists are not as advanced as us, they are not as beautiful as us, and their artwork proves it. Published several years prior to this exhibition was a book titled Kunst und Rasse— Art and Race— by Paul Schultze-Naumburg, in which the author shows examples of classical European portraits, demonstrating his idealised Aryan beauty standards, thin, White and elegant, before he goes on to compare cubist portraits and abstract paintings to images of people with varying disabilities and physical differences, including paralysis, Down’s Syndrome, microcephaly, rickets, micromelia, and metabolic encephalopathy, among others. Schultze-Naumburg states under three photos of disabled individuals, “...only today's art deals with the phenomena of decay and degeneration in a one-sided attitude.” (Fig. 2)

 

 

 

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Figure 2

Pages 92-93, Kunst und Rasse. By Paul Schultze-Naumburg. 

 

Note the precise, deliberate language of his commentary: degeneration. Initially a biological and medical term to describe a plant or animal that has evolved so far that it does not belong to its initial species, the word’s meaning shifted to describe artwork that is not able to be sorted into a specific genre, art that is beyond the is and is not box— non-art. 

 

The word, though popularised by the German Nazis, is still often used today, and the usage is on its way back to the mainstream through social media. The Nazis and their predecessors used it as a manner of describing anybody not up to par with their standards: the mentally ill, the Jewish, those of differing cultures. Author Stephanie Barron states in her essay Modern Art and Politics in Pre-War Germany, “The avant-garde artist was equated to the insane, who in turn was synonymous with the Jew: the nineteenth-century founders of German psychiatry felt that the Jew was inherently degenerate and more susceptible than the non-Jew to insanity.” All forms of prejudice— ableism, antisemitism, racism and xenophobia— were linked together in the minds of the Nazis. 

 

Prior to Schultze-Naumberg’s publication, German psychiatrist Hans Prinzhorn published a similar study: Bildnerei der Geisteskranken. Translated to Image-Making by the Mentally Ill, this study focused on over five thousand artworks created by 450 patients to demonstrate consistent features and qualities in work created by mentally ill people. These methods were utilised by the Nazi party in an exhibition in 1933— four years before Entartete Kunst— which displayed 32 artworks compared to artwork by children and the mentally ill. This method was once again used in a brochure published alongside Kunst und Rasse. 

 

Although the Nazi’s standards appear to have been fairly straightforward, there was controversy in 1934 regarding what was and was not actually acceptable. Despite belonging to the same political party and following the same leader, the Nazis could not help that they were all human, and all had opinions. 

 

Joseph Goebbels, Hitler’s second-in-command and Reich minister for public enlightenment and propaganda, approved of expressionism and saw its vitality as being symbolic of the Nazi youth. Nazi theorist Alfred Rosemberg on the other hand saw it as un-German and was committed to only promoting volkisch work— art of and for Germans. Eventually, the contradiction became too much, and Hitler himself became involved: he gave neither man his formal approval, and he outlawed all forms of modernism. 

 

The Nazis knew that art could be a powerful tool for propaganda, and the inclusion and exclusion of artwork needed to be careful and deliberate; they couldn’t let the public see anything that could potentially radicalise them. They followed a deliberate process of restricting any art that was deemed un-German and degenerate. In the 1920s, exhibitions and galleries began to be censored. The catalogue of the exhibition Neue Sachlichkeit by Gustav Harlaub was changed per the director’s request. In 1934, Harlaub would be the first museum director to be fired under orders of the Nazis. 

 

Haus der Deutschen Kunst, the House of German Art, was opened in 1933 with the intention of displaying contemporary art. The building was enormous, and there was not enough artwork on hand to fill it, so Hitler organised an art competition for all German artists, to which about fifteen thousand works were submitted. However, the guidelines were unclear, and the organisers’ judgements were not acceptable to Hitler, who joined the judging with Goebbels by his side. Goebbels wrote in his diary of the event, “The sculpture is going well, but the painting is a real catastrophe at the moment. They have hung works that make us shudder. … The Fuhrer is in a rage.” Of the thousands of works submitted, only nine hundred pieces were ultimately selected for display. 

 

In 1937, Kunsthalle Mannheim was visited, which is the Nazis’ polite way of saying raided, by Goebbels’s committee on 8 July and 28 August. In the raids, over 600 pieces of art by both German and non-German artists were taken. In the time since, most of these stolen artworks have been lost. Others are back at the Kunsthalle, in other public collections, and others are now privately owned. Just ten days after the first raid on the Kunsthalle, the Große Deutsche Kunstausstellung opened in Munich, and at the opening, Hitler demonstrated his racist and bigoted intentions within the art world very clearly. 

 

He stated in his speech, “From now on we are going to wage a merciless war of destruction against the last remaining elements of cultural disintegration… For all we care, those prehistoric Stone-Age culture barbarians and art-stutterers can return to the caves of their ancestors and there can apply their primitive international scratchings.”

 

He held to his word, and the German people obeyed to the letter. It was nearly impossible to sell any contemporary artwork that wasn’t Nazi-approved, and much of Germany’s artwork was sold to Nazis themselves, looking to decorate their offices. 

 

The Große Deutsche Kunstausstellung sought to frame genre painting, the majority of the work displayed, as the mainstream art style of the time, replacing any other style that had reached popularity since the 1910s. As Barron states in her essay, “The National Socialists sought to rewrite art history, to omit what we know as the avante-garde from the history of modern art.” Although the judgement standards for paintings were straightforward, it was more confusing when it came to sculpture, and the Nazis seemed to be contradictory to their own rules. An artist is reported to have had work displayed in both Große Deutsche Kunstausstellung and Entartete Kunst. 

 

A decree issued by Goebbels in his role as the minister of public enlightenment and propaganda defined degenerate art as artwork that “insult(s) German feeling, or destroy(s) or confuse(s) natural form or simply reveal(s) an absence of adequate manual and artistic skill.” (An ironic standard considering Hitler’s rejection from art school on the basis of the latter.) That year, artwork that didn’t meet these standards from all over Germany was sent to Munich, adding up to about sixteen thousand works by about 1400 artists, including paintings, sculptures, drawings, and prints. They were then sent to Berlin to await “final disposal,” but many were never really discarded, moved to another warehouse before they were sold internationally. This confiscation wasn’t technically legal until 31 May 1938 as much of the work was from before 1910 and were completed by international artists. The law was changed to read “products of degenerate art that have been secured in museums or in collections open to the public before this law went into effect… may be appropriated by the Reich without compensation.”

 

The care and consideration that the Große Deutsche Kunstausstellung was constructed with was not reflected in its partner exhibition, Entartete Kunst. This exhibition was poorly planned, the works confiscated, shipped, and installed in less than two weeks, and the final displays were cluttered, poorly organised. While the Große Deutsche Kunstausstellung was organised neatly with distinct categories (landscapes, portraits, military, et cetera), the latter exhibition was only vaguely organised into thematic groupings: religion, Jewish artists, vilification of women. Many of the pieces were shown with hand-written labels informing the visitors of how much money was spent on the art piece, though the recent inflation of the 1920s was conveniently not mentioned. These labels intended to criticise the directors, curators, and dealers responsible for the acquisition of the artworks, showing the public how much money was wasted. 

 

Although the exhibition itself was clumsy and uncoordinated, the brochure (see fig. 3) shows clear intention. The depiction of an African sculpture that differs greatly from classical European artwork, the word ENTARTETE plainly at the top, the word KUNST written by hand as though scribbled by a child, enclosed between deliberate quotation marks. As Barron says in her essay, “...the National Socialists clearly made the point that although they considered this material degenerate, they certainly did not consider it art.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Figure 3

Pamphlet/Advertisement for Entartete Kunst exhibition, 1937

 

The removal of the label of art does a lot of heavy-lifting in the Nazis’ manipulation of the German public, but it is important to note that the attitude of the Entartete Kunst exhibition is not unique to Nazi Germany; the main ideas of the exhibition existed before it took place and have lasted until today. As German culture historian George L. Mosse says in his essay Beauty Without Sensuality: The Exhibition Entartete Kunst, “...even today art is condemned if it transgresses the normative morality in too shocking a fashion.” Even in today’s digital age with its general anything goes attitude, contemporary art is constantly criticised, put down, or even refused inclusion as art. 

 

 

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Chapter III — The Art of Resistance

Artwork has a way of surviving even the most violent of environments and events. Be it ancient carvings surviving thousands of years of human development, the ash-buried mosaic murals of Pompeii and Herculaneum, or carefully designed buildings surviving vicious fires. The artwork that managed to survive through the second world war is no exception. 

 

Although one could certainly see the connection between the survival of art through these events and the survival of humanity through the same, it is important to note that not all the artwork confiscated by the Nazi party lasted to this day. As stated previously, countless works remain unaccounted for, not including the works that are confirmed to have been destroyed. These are more victims of the violence of the Nazis, added to the already inconceivable number of Jews, Romas and Romanis, queers, disabled, and people of colour. 

 

But just like the way those who were oppressed by the Nazis now exist proudly and visibly— Jews wearing the Star of David not because they are required to but because they want to, queers reclaiming the pink triangle as their own symbol— modern and contemporary artwork is finding its way back into the public eye, back into the mainstream and the accepted, back into the is box, displaying the perseverance of the artists themselves. 

 

In 2017, an art exhibition was held in the same location as Entartete Kunst, displaying as much of the original artwork that was available and still accessible and displaying photos of the works that weren’t, but rather than criticising and belittling the artwork, this show was put on as documentation of what had been done eighty years prior. Referred to as a “remembrance” by Jason Daley of the Smithsonian Magazine, this exhibition served as a memorial of sorts, mourning the loss of so much artwork. Similarly, in 2013, an exhibition was held at the Kunstpalast museum in Dusseldorf titled 1937: Action Against ‘Degenerate Art’ in Dusseldorf. It was only seventy-six years later that researchers began to finally sort through the artwork that had been lost during the war, and they found that only fourteen works survived. These works were displayed as the heart of the 1937 exhibition. 

 

Kathin DuBois, who works at the Kunstpalast, told Deutsche Welle, a German broadcasting company, “We are showing an exhibition about a collection that no longer exists. It was downright eradicated.” She makes a point to note that much of the artwork that was destroyed and lost were by local artists, who would remain unknown today without any record of their work. Art historian Meike Hoffman made a similar comment to the Deutsche Welle, stating that, “Young artists who were at the beginning of their careers have been completely forgotten, unlike the painters who were already renowned at the time.”

 

Many artworks lost during the war are still emerging around the world. In 2012, over sixty years after the end of the war, over a thousand artworks, including works by Matisse, Picasso and Chagall, were discovered in the apartment of Cornelius Gurlitt, whose father, Hildebrand Gurlitt, was one of Hitler’s art dealers and was passionate about modern artwork. Many works from this hidden collection, such as Seated Woman by Matisse, have been returned to their ‘rightful owners,’ but with the concept of ownership over artwork, especially artwork that has been hidden and forced out of the public eye, comes the enforcement of deserving— exactly what caused the work to be tucked away for decades. 

 

The topic of debate is often which artworks deserve to be seen, which artworks deserve to be considered artwork at all, which artworks deserve a paywall between them and their potential viewer or audience. One artwork may be considered too beautiful to be shown publicly, and another may be hidden for the exact opposite. And, as demonstrated by both Entartete Kunst and many online users, other artwork is displayed for the sole purpose of degradation. 1937’s pamphlets and brochures reading “degenerate art” have shifted to today’s Twitter posts reading “If this is modern art, we are doomed,” captioning a video of a performance by artist Lawrence Malstaf titled Shrink 01195 and “European and African artwork,” captioning a comparison of David by Michelangelo and Mangbetu Male Ancestor Sculpture. Undoubtedly posted with the sole intention of being what is called ragebait, posts uploaded with the intention of attracting attention by upsetting readers, these posts open up the comments under them for various kinds of responses. These comments range from disagreements and disputes to blatant ableism, like Twitter user IAMESHAKER’s comment reading, “Modern art is just typical madness disguised as creativity,” and blatant racism, like user pawe_kolas80591’s comment, “Africans have always been dumber and will always be.”
 

Often, comments relay flagrant Nazi rhetoric, whether unintentional or uncaring, such as user jyrkikononen’s comment that reads, “Are there any REAL artists left…? We are (a) degenerating specie(s).” 

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Fig 4 

Screen capture of Twitter (X) user RadioGenoa’s post comparing David to Mangbetu Male Ancestor Sculpture. 

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Fig 5

Screen capture of Twitter (X) user PicturesFoIder’s post criticising Shrink 01195 by Lawrence Malstaf

 

It can be assumed that these social media users are simply ignorant, that they are fully unaware that they are spreading Nazi rhetoric— to many non-artists, the criticism of art, or non-art in their minds, just isn’t a big deal. Although our world is one built on art, and one that relies on art, there are countless members of our society that see it as something disposable, something unnecessary even in its prevalent presence. 

 

For many of these critics, art is a flat concept— simply paintings and drawings, the odd sculpture, all aesthetically pleasing and visually appealing. Anything that goes beyond their straightforward definition of art, be it a bizarre public performance or a pile of candy, just doesn’t count.  These concepts, too, are flat, and there is nothing beyond what is superficially apparent, and if the explanation is outlandish or particularly blurry, the artwork remains ridiculous and absurd. This has been the case for years— Monet’s impressionism was controversial, seen by critics at the time as sloppy and incomplete. The nudity featured in Michelangelo’s The Last Judgement was deemed horribly inappropriate for the walls of a holy place. John Singer Sargent’s Madame X was seen as indecent and the public response to the painting ruined both Sargent’s and his model’s reputations among Parisians.

 

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Figure 6

Claude Monet, Water Lilies, 1906, oil on canvas, New York, the Metropolitan Museum of Art

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Figure 7 

Leonardo da Vinci, The Last Judgement (detail), 1536 - 1541, fresco, Vatican City, Sistine Chapel

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Figure 8 

John Singer Sargent, Madame X, 1883 - 1884, oil on canvas, New York, the Metropolitan Museum of Art

 

It’s understandable for one to wonder if criticism and exclusion are natural facets of artistry, if being forced out of the is box is unavoidable. It’s common for creatives to be told stories of their predecessors putting forward their creations and facing repeated rejections before someone, a publisher, producer, or potential client, takes a chance and launches them into global success and international adoration. It raises the question of whether or not the art, be it a beloved childrens’ book series or a Netflix series renewed for a second season, was good or not before it was well-known. The same can apply to classical art forms and famous masterpieces— da Vinci’s Mona Lisa is well-known not only for her subtle smile, but also for disappointing her viewers, who voice their opinions by asking whether Mona Lisa is really that much better than any other painting from her time. 

 

But lost in all the conversation and debate about good and bad, ticket prices, price ranges, better and worse, lies the question Does it really matter? 

 

Some art is ugly, some art is beautiful, and some may be some vague combination of the two. Some art is tangible, digestible, and others are not. Some art is considered valuable, and some art is considered disposable. Does any of it really matter? 

 

One of the art pieces found among Hildebrand Gurlitt’s collection after the end of the war is the aforementioned painting by Henri Matisse, depicting a woman sitting in a chair. (See fig. 7) Though this piece was considered “un-German” and distasteful enough to hide, today, Matisse is a revered artist, and this painting, this artwork, survived the second world war, alongside around 1500 other works that could have been lost to history like countless others were. These artworks that some wanted so desperately to be rid of, that some wanted to simply disappear or to never have existed, have survived, have prevailed, and with them, as have pieces of not only German history, but of everybody’s history. 

 

 

 

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Figure 9

Henri Matisse, Femme Assise (Seated Woman), 1921, privately owned by Paul Rosenburg, Paris

 

These surviving artworks, even those that are abstract or ugly, even those that were thought more appropriate as kindling for fire than as a spectacle in a museum, might be suitable as role models. The perseverance of the artwork is comparable to the perseverance of humanity in the face of fascism. 

 

In today’s social and political landscape, this feels apt. As books are banned across the United States, the internet is flooded with ways to access books that are meant to be inaccessible. When movie developers cut characters’ scenes from the final products because they appear too outwardly gay, viewers create their own artwork and stories of said characters. When films are removed from streaming services, links are shared and arguments are made about the ethics of pirating art that is inaccessible. These protests are found even in the mainstream— when popular singer-songwriter Sabrina Carpenter was faced with backlash against her performance during a world tour, told that her various poses, which differed every night, were too lewd and suggestive, she refused to back down and censor her artwork. Instead, she increased the sexuality of her poses. 

 

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Figure 10

Photo by Alfredo Flores

One of Sabrina Carpenter’s poses during her song Juno, posted to Carpenter’s Instagram page on 22 October 2024.

 

The modernity of our time aids in the conservation of not only modern artwork, but all artwork. With the use of social media and digital preservation, our artwork will prevail, whether others want it to or not. With the visibility of the artwork comes the visibility of what is behind the artwork— it signifies humanity in all of its simultaneously beautiful and horrific glory— joy and peace, fear and rage, comradery and loneliness. Palestinian artist Saj Issa’s painting Have you ever been to Palestine? (fig. 11) seems to depict the isolation of living abroad, while Hazem Harb, originally from Gaza city, has a piece titled Arm in Arm (fig. 12) that seemingly depicts the solidarity of the Palestinian people. Today’s modern age provides an outlet for these pieces to be seen and appreciated and admired or disparaged and despised. But regardless of the feedback or commentary that is made in response to these works, they remain, alongside amateur photography and homemade birthday cakes, bored doodles and painstaking sculptures, lovesick poetry and images of the old masters’ work, preserved in the fossilising sediment that is the internet. 

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Figure 11

Saj Issa, Have you ever been to Palestine?, oil on canvas paper, 2023

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Figure 12

Hazem Harb, Arm in Arm, charcoal on paper, 2023

 

Even in today’s seemingly progressive state, art is fought and pushed back against, and it continues to stand its ground regardless of the circumstances. As Barron said in her essay, “...the art, the documents, and the memories that have survived… remind us that art may be enjoyed or abhorred but it is a force whose potency should never be underestimated.” Or as the children living through the horrors of the Terezin concentration camp in 1944 said in their collective poem On a Sunny Evening, “If in barbed wire, things can bloom // Why couldn’t I? I will not die!” 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Conclusion

 

Connections can be drawn between today’s world regarding bigotry and intolerance and that of the past few decades. Although there have certainly been ways in which humanity has made progress, some of this progress is partially negated by the resurgence of the use of art criticism as a method of judging the worth of other humans. The digital presence of much of today’s population has benefitted many artists but has also served as a means for critics to share their often uneducated and hateful opinions of what does and does not count as art. The statements that are shared often parallel Nazi propaganda regarding modern and contemporary art, and faced with the same misinformation that was the initial propaganda to manipulate the German public, for many, existence is an inherent form of resistance, and in turn, as is the act of creation. Creation of artwork is an inherently human act that cannot be negated even by the harshest of opinions. 

 

Bibliography

 

• Oxford English Dictionary. Oxford, England: Oxford University Press, 2000. 

• Baylee Woodley, “Untitled (‘Portrait of Ross in L.A’),” Queer Art History, December 2, 2022, https://www.queerarthistory.com/love-between-men/untitled-portrait-of-ross-in-l-a/#:~:text=This%20work%20is%20an%20important,about%20a%20moment%20of%20queer.  

• Artist Rooms: Helen Chadwick, Tate Modern, Blavatnik Building, Level 4. 

• “Adolf Hitler Paintings of ‘no Artistic Value’ on Sale in Berlin,” BBC News, January 24, 2019, https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-europe-46991969.  

• Schultze-Naumburg, Paul. “Paul Schultze Naumburg Kunst Und Rasse.” Internet Archive, June 14, 2014. https://archive.org/details/paul-schultze-naumburg-kunst-und-rasse.

• Stephanie Barron, “1937: Modern Art and Politics in Prewar Germany,” essay, in “Degenerate Art”: The Fate of the Avant-Garde in Nazi Germany (Harry N. Abrams, Inc. Publishers, n.d.)

• Geraldine Norman, “Art Market : Survivor of the Third Reich,” The Independent, November 12, 1995, https://www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/art-market-survivor-of-the-third-reich-1581655.html.

• George L. Mosse, “Beauty without Sensuality: The Exhibition Entartete Kunst,” essay, in “Degenerate Art”: The Fate of the Avant-Garde in Nazi Germany (Harry N. Abrams, Inc. Publishers, n.d.)

• Daley, Jason. “Eighty Years Later, Two Exhibits Confront the ‘Degenerate Art’ Purge.” Smithsonian.com, August 8, 2017. https://www.smithsonianmag.com/smart-news/exhibits-confront-degenerate-art-80-years-later-180964359/. 

• Wojcik, Nadine. “How ‘degenerate Art’ Purges Devastated Germany’s Museums.” dw.com, July 19, 2017. https://www.dw.com/en/80-years-ago-how-degenerate-art-purges-devastated-germanys-museums/a-39736301.

• “True Artists Should Ignore the Critics.” Medium, May 16, 2023. https://toyphotographs.medium.com/true-artists-should-ignore-the-critics-c1189ef464d6#:~:text=Monet%27s%20paintings%20were%20considered%20%E2%80%9Cunfinished,find%20buyers%20for%20his%20work.  

• “Nudity and Controversy in the Sistine Chapel.” Through Eternity Tours, September 16, 2024. https://www.througheternity.com/en/blog/art/nudity-and-controversy-in-the-sistine-chapel.html#. 

• Lesso, Rosie. “How Did the Painting ‘madame X’ Nearly Ruin Singer Sargent’s Career?” TheCollector, September 25, 2023. https://www.thecollector.com/how-madame-x-ruined-john-singer-sargent/. 

• “‘untitled’ (Portrait of Ross in l.a.).” The Art Institute of Chicago, n.d. https://www.artic.edu/artworks/152961/untitled-portrait-of-ross-in-l-a. 

• “Degenerate Art Exhibition Guide *.” – Leicester’s German Expressionist Collection, n.d. https://www.germanexpressionismleicester.org/leicesters-collection/books-and-other-publications/degenerate-art-exhibition-guide-star/. 

• Salam, Erum. “Book Bans in US Schools and Libraries Surged to Record Highs in 2023.” The Guardian, March 14, 2024. https://www.theguardian.com/books/2024/mar/14/book-bans-us-schools-surge. 

• “Der Nachlass Gurlitt.” Kunst Museum Bern . Accessed January 19, 2025. https://gurlitt.kunstmuseumbern.ch/de/. 

• “I Never Saw Another Butterfly Packet of Readings.” Seattle, WA: Holocaust Center for Humanity , n.d. 

• “Henri Matisse Painting Looted by Nazis Returns Home.” Park West Gallery, May 26, 2015. https://www.parkwestgallery.com/henri-matisse-painting-looted-by-nazis-returns-home/.

• “Water Lilies.” The Art Institute of Chicago, n.d. https://www.artic.edu/artworks/16568/water-lilies. 

• Gronlund, Melissa. “Hazem Harb: ‘My Heart Is Still in Gaza.’” Afterall, September 10, 2024. https://www.afterall.org/articles/hazem-harb-my-heart-is-still-in-gaza/. 

• Sajeda Issa. Accessed January 19, 2025. https://sajissa.com/. 

• “Sabrina Carpenter on Instagram: ‘Have U Ever Tried This One?’” Instagram, October 22, 2024. https://www.instagram.com/p/DBcLMzPBp2K/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link.