The office of Walter Gropius, the founder of the Bauhaus art and architecture school, in Weimar, Germany, the institution’s first home when it was established in 1919. The desk, armchair, sofa and ceiling lamp were originally by Gropius, the table lamp is by Wilhelm Wagenfeld and the carpet is by Benita Koch-Otte. The room was reconstructed by Gerhard Oschmann in 1999. Credit Photograph by Fabrice Fouillet. Walter Gropius, “Gropius Room,” 1922/23 © 2019 ARS, NY/VG Bild-Kunst, Bonn, Reconstruction as a “Gesamtkunstwerk” by Gerhard Oschmann 1998/99. Design of desk, armchair F51, sofa and ceiling lamp by Walter Gropius. Carpet by Benita Koch-Otte. Bethel by friendly permission of V. Bodelschwingh Foundation Bethel©. Wilhelm Wagenfeld, “Table Lamp” © 2019 ARS, NY/VG Bild-Kunst, Bonn.
For years, the roster of Bauhaus luminaries — such as Gropius, Mies, Wassily Kandinsky and Paul Klee — was seen as exclusively male; recently, the contributions (as well as marginalization) of its brilliant women designers — such as Gunta Stölzl and Anni Albers in textiles; Lotte Stam-Beese in architecture; and Ré Soupault in fashion design, photography and journalism — have been the subject of continuing scholarship. “Blaupause” (“Blueprint”), a well-received novel by Theresia Enzensberger about a female student at the Bauhaus who wants to be an architect, is coming out in English this year.
(Nikil Saval, “How Bauhaus Redefined What Design Could Do for Society,” (NYTimes Magazine, 2-4-19)
(c) 2019 JMN.
A Quaint Plaint Spoken to the Wind
Sombrerismo is a spurious derivative coinage hatched by a cheeky blogger from the Spanish word for “hat” (sombrero). This etiquette-challenged perversion may be a sub-attribute of machismo, a term more familiar to the anglophone community. A man commits sombrerismo when he wears his hat indoors or fails to tip it when introduced to a lady. A hat is not an element of costume, except now it mostly is. It once had a purpose, serving in all weathers for shade and warmth for men castrating yearlings, riding fence, or witching for water. It was acceptable, too, for the frivolous sport of bulldogging steers, though it usually fell off the cowboy’s head as soon as he came off his horse to rassle the critter down. Dandy dudes, on the other hand, had best uncover when pounding longnecks in dusky honky-tonks while feeding the jukebox. It’s just polite.
(c) 2019 JMN.