Mosaics by Puhl & Wagner

Since their formation in 1889, the Berlin company Puhl & Wagner was one of the most important companies for glass mosaics and glass windows in Germany. By manufacturing their own mosaic pieces in their glass factory and by developing a new technique of laying the small mosaic pieces they were able to reduce the manufacturing costs considerably and, in consequence, to establish their market leadership.

Signet of Puhl & Wagner, mosaic of Fritz Dernburg

In 1914, they merged with the stained glass company of Gottfried Heinersdorff, whose involvement in the Art Nouveau movement (especially the Deutsche Werkbund) promised to have a positive impact on the artistic quality of the company's production. But, due to unresolved differences between August Wagner and Gottfried Heinersdorff, these efforts of reforming the company's production artistically were short lived. During the Third Reich, the company was commissioned to decorate a number of buildings for the National socialists and was even able to survive the years after the Second World War. But, due to a diminished interest in glass mosaics and stained glass works, the company had to close its doors in 1969. (For further information check the comprehensive article at Wikipedia).

Tomb of Fritz Dernburg

Quite fortunately, some of the mosaics P&W executed in the late 19th and early 20th century survived the destruction of the war. One of them can be found at the cemetery Grunewald on Bornstedter Street 11/12, Berlin. It commemorates the death of Fritz Dernburg who died in infancy, in 1895. The large mosaic that even nowadays has lost nothing of its colourful vibrancy was designed by the artist Max Seliger (1865-1920), the brother of Fritz's mother, who designed a number of mosaics and murals throughout his career.

Mosaic, tomb of Fritz Dernberg

It depicts two women next to an altar which is inscribed with a quote from the Bible: "Love never ends" ("Die Liebe höret nimmer auf, Corinthians 13,8). One of the woman places a vase with red tulips on the altar, the other plucks the strings of a harp which a sad looking cherub clutches in his chubby fingers.

Detail of the mosaic, tomb of Fritz Dernberg

Detail of the mosaic, tomb of Fritz Dernberg

Detail of the mosaic, tomb of Fritz Dernberg

Detail of the mosaic, tomb of Fritz Dernberg

Both women, though dressed in stylised white robes, are more portraits than allegories, and contemporary sources identify them as Fritz's mother, Emma Dernburg, and her sister. The decorative flowers in the background, especially the lilies, are most probably influenced by William Morris and the Arts & Crafts movement which was widely known in Germany at the time.

Detail of the mosaic, tomb of Fritz Dernberg

The second mural, nowadays on the facade of the building in Königsallee 15, Charlottenburg-Wilmersdorf, Berlin, shows a historical scene: a hunting party with Elector Joachim II and the hunting château of Grunewald in the background (inscribed "Aufbruch zur Jagd unter Kurfürst Joachim II vom Jagdschloss Grunewald").

Mosaic, Königsallee 15

The design was made by the artist Max Koch for the railroad bridge at Hohenzollerndamm in 1910 and executed by P&W in the same year.

Mosaic as it originally was at the Hohenzollern bridge

When the bridge was demolished in 1950, only one of the former two mosaics was rescued and re-done - with an alteration to the upper part of the image - on the aforementioned facade in 1963. The mosaic depicting the surrender of Teltow was lost. There is little known about the artist Max Koch, but his design shows some similarity to the works of Maximilian Liebenwein and other Art Nouveau illustrators that might have been of some influence.

Detail of the mosaic, Königsallee 15

Detail of the mosaic, Königsallee 15

Detail of the mosaic, Königsallee 15

As with the mosaic for Fritz Dernburg, Koch's hunting scene is a compelling work of art that profits widely from P&W's execution and the quality of their laying technique as well as their glass mosaic pieces.

Detail of the mosaic, Königsallee 15

Dreaming of One Thousand and One Nights

In 1923, Ernst Rosenbaum (alias: Ernst Roenau) published his adaptation of "One Thousand and One Nights" (Vienna, Munk) with magnificent illustrations by Rosa Rosà . Probably around the same time the book was also published in Chicago by Julius Wisotzki.














In contrast to 19th-century orientalism which dominated most of the illustrative works on "One Thousand and One Nights" at the time, Rosà presents her fairytale interpretations in a powerfully decorative style that seems to be a bit influenced by fashion designs of the Art Déco. There is a strong interest in form and patterns, which might also derive from folk art which was a great source of inspiration in these times. The colourful lithographs even encourage associations with the even more detailed and equally fantastic works of Léon Bakst or the illustrations of the Russian artist Iwan Bilibin.



























Just as Fernande Biegler, another female artist of the time, of who's biography is equally little known, Rosà found her own and unique way to illustrate and re-count the well-known Arabian fairy tales. Her "stylish", nearly two-dimensional images present a colourful world full of wonders which mirrors the character of the fairy tales perfectly. It is no doubt a pity, that there is nothing else of her work known nowadays.

Hugo L. Braune's "Dietrich von Bern" ("Theodoric the Great")

In the 19th century, printed graphic works were often no longer added to the text as a decorative element only, or to illustrate the text with the depictions of the crucial scenes of the story told, but they became autonomous. The text lost its importance, the pictures told the story with their own means. It is then that, more and more graphic cycles were published which don't have a textbook to begin with.

One of these picture-stories is Hugo L. Braunes narration of the old German saga of "Dietrich von Bern" (for the story, please check out Wikipedia and the re-telling of legend by Donald A. Mackenzie) that was published in the magazine "Teuerdank" (Berlin, Düsseldorf, Fischer & Franke, 1901-03). Hugo L. Braune (1875-?), most popular for his illustrative works on fairy tales, sagas and the operas of Richard Wagner, tells the legend of Dietrich von Bern in twelve black and white drawings that recount the adventures of Dietrich at the wonderful rose garden, the fight with the giant, etc., up to his end, riding on the black steed through the sky until he is saved by the will of god.

Landscapes of Melancholy - German Art Nouveau Landscape Illustrations

Years back I stumbled upon an article comparing the art of the Romantic period in France and Germany. The author concluded that the French Romantic art tended to celebrate the "savoir vivre" while the German Romanticists revelled in the "savoir mourir". This idea (though not to be generalised) is rather intriguing.

Taking a look at the German landscape art of the late 19th and early 20th century, the "savoir mourir" is still a valid aspect of its multiple facets. Be it Arnold Böcklin with his variants of the "Isle of the Dead" or Walter Leistikow with his landscape paintings of the Mark Brandenburg, their landscape is distinctively melancholy in its atmosphere. They are landscapes that don't want to portray a specific landscape as much as they want to evoke a certain sentiment for the audience to associate and feel while viewing their artwork.

Same goes for the works of the two Art Nouveau artists, Hermann Hirzel and Georg Jahn, and their landscape illustrations for the magazine "Teuerdank" (published 1901-03 by Fischer & Franke in Berlin and Düsseldorf). - Hirzel's landscapes, entitled "Stimmungen" ("Moods"), are not serene at all. They show a quiescent world with an air of loneliness, of melancholy. They are beautiful, but sad, and this even though the artist did not paint his landscape in gloomy colours. It's the motifs and their "Inszenierung".











































Georg Jahn's views of the coast and sea are equally un-lively: showing a barren land, buffeted by wind and waves. It's not a welcoming or forgiving landscape. It existed long before men travelled it, and will exist long after the extinction of mankind it. It's the old idea of death, of a Memento Mori that is part of the landscapes' inherent moods. It's the "savoir mourir" that becomes apparent in these works, the decision of the artists not to draw a landscape evoking happiness but a sad longing.