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| K XVIII, 1923 | ||
| by Làszlò Moholy - Nagy | ||
A page of Dr. Claude Wainstain, France
K XVIII,
1923
When, in
1923, the Bauhaus managers decided to hire a new teacher, they appealed
Moholy-Nagy, a young Hungarian who recently came from Budapest and was
already quite famous for his abstract compositions and his theoretical
writings.
He had discovered painting in Odessa, in
1917, while recovering from a serious war-injury, and the quiet
law-student from a good Jewish family turned suddenly into an avant-garde
artist, the revolutionary days exaltation as back-cloth. Multi-gifted autodidactic
man, a kind of proletarian Mahler in worker-dress and wearing iron-circled
glasses, Moholy-Nagy was able to do everything, construction, collage,
typography, artistic conception, "everything", said his students
ironically, "but speak German without any accent".
He
pottered strange glass, wood and iron scaffoldings, had them crossed by
moving light-rays, then called them "Space modulators", like the
one appearing on the German stamp issued on Feb. 08, 1983. He also had a
passion for experimental photography, invented new printing types, and
declaimed, in front of his stupefied students: "Light, total Light
will breed the total Man ! "
In 1934, Moholy-Nagy had to leave Germany, and
after two years of wandering, he ultimately settled in Chicago, where he
managed the "New Bauhaus" and then the "Institute of
Design". This man who the Nazis called "Judeo-Bolshevik",
was called by the communists "a dogmatic" and "slave of
capitalist economy". So we had to wait until these last years
cultural thaw (i.e. the fall of communism in East Europe) to see one of
his compositions, called "K-XVIII", on an Hungarian stamp,
issued on Sep 18th 1995.
Very few know how much this artist
influenced our daily life, and that we owe him not only our flexible
desk-lamps and our chrome-steeled-coffee-pots design, but also the elegant
typography which makes this magazine look so stylish. "MOHOLY-NAGY
was also the name of a boutique, Galerie Vivienne, in Paris, where, a few
years ago, the Bauhaus master's own grand-son was selling luxurious
shirts. "At least, " his ancestors would have said , "at
least, a real job for a Jew! ". Claude Wainstain.
Article published in L’Arche, April 1996
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