I grew up in Germany in the 80’s and when I was a teenager there was a big show of Kollwitz at the Art museum. I was totally taken by her art and message. So many years and another country I had not thought about Kollwitz. Thank you so much for this lovely essay and brings her back to me.
Kellie, thank you for this beautifully presented post. The first time (many, many years ago) that I saw Kollwitz's work in person I was moved to tears. I, too, am drawn to her woodcuts, precisely because of what that medium can reveal. And Kollwitz's woodcuts contain her very being, in all of its sorrow and pain. The women who haunt her work, despite their suffering and for whom Kollwitz obviously has enormous compassion (she is one of them, after all), have agency nonetheless. It is our great fortune that enough of her work survived her that we can engage with it directly in places like the Getty, the British Museum, the MoMA, the Kollwitz Museum in Cologne, other places.
I have the gorgeous MoMA volume that accompanied the retrospective at that museum. Grief, borne out of so much death, is incarnate even in that volume's reproductions of her work, especially those depicting dead children in their mother's arms.
On the back cover of the book are these words from Kollwitz that could serve as her artist statement:
"I have no right to withdraw from the responsibility of being an advocate. It is my duty to voice the sufferings of people, which are never-ending and as large as a mountain."
We do not often hear an artist speak about social advocacy in the context of personal responsibility and duty. That kind of declaration sets Kollwitz apart and gives her mark-making such deep meaning. It also makes her works on paper an inspiration for our time. It shows us a way to advocate — through art become narrative, through art that tells stories — for people in our own country who have been made silent by being disappeared.
Maureen, thank you for adding these enriching thoughts and perspectives to this discussion. I am grateful for your deep history with her artwork that can guide us to further reflection. My husband is a printmaker, and as I watch the physically demanding process of carving, it helps me see even more how emodied this medium is. I imagine Kollwitz's hands and arms sore and that pain being in conversation with the inner suffering being revealed in the woodcuts.
I am a fan of Kollwitz, as I think you can tell. I also am in awe of the sculptor and fibre artist Magdalena Abakanowicz, one of whose works is situated in the outdoor sculpture garden on Constitution Ave in D.C. She’s also represented in the National Museum of Women in the Arts. While using a very different medium, she affects me similarly; her burlap-bound headless figures are remarkably profound, I think.
I have collected original prints for a long time. Does your husband have a Website where I might see his work?
Thank you again, Kellie. Your writing on art is always a great pleasure to read.
I'll take a look at her work. I'm sure I'll love it. My husband's website is www.artbrowndesign.com. His linocuts are usually of mechanical creatures that are metaphors for social and political ills.
I learn so much every time you write! I’ve never really been drawn to the visual arts, but I do enjoy them when someone explains the “who what when where why how” of the artwork. I appreciate you for sharing this. Her work is something I probably never would have found on my own.
A powerful story, beautifully written.
Thank you for continuing to share your insights with your awesome prose.
Thank you, Charlotte
Wonderful piece. Thank you.
thank you, Joanna
This is so moving!
thank you, Kassi
I love the topics you’re exploring in your writing. Just subscribed. 💕
thank you, Kassi (I thought I had already responded, but it’s not showing up. So, this might be a duplicate.)
Wow. I've never seen any of these before. Stunning.
I'm in awe of her work. So powerful
I grew up in Germany in the 80’s and when I was a teenager there was a big show of Kollwitz at the Art museum. I was totally taken by her art and message. So many years and another country I had not thought about Kollwitz. Thank you so much for this lovely essay and brings her back to me.
Thank you for reading and for sharing your experience with me. 💜
Kellie, thank you for this beautifully presented post. The first time (many, many years ago) that I saw Kollwitz's work in person I was moved to tears. I, too, am drawn to her woodcuts, precisely because of what that medium can reveal. And Kollwitz's woodcuts contain her very being, in all of its sorrow and pain. The women who haunt her work, despite their suffering and for whom Kollwitz obviously has enormous compassion (she is one of them, after all), have agency nonetheless. It is our great fortune that enough of her work survived her that we can engage with it directly in places like the Getty, the British Museum, the MoMA, the Kollwitz Museum in Cologne, other places.
I have the gorgeous MoMA volume that accompanied the retrospective at that museum. Grief, borne out of so much death, is incarnate even in that volume's reproductions of her work, especially those depicting dead children in their mother's arms.
On the back cover of the book are these words from Kollwitz that could serve as her artist statement:
"I have no right to withdraw from the responsibility of being an advocate. It is my duty to voice the sufferings of people, which are never-ending and as large as a mountain."
We do not often hear an artist speak about social advocacy in the context of personal responsibility and duty. That kind of declaration sets Kollwitz apart and gives her mark-making such deep meaning. It also makes her works on paper an inspiration for our time. It shows us a way to advocate — through art become narrative, through art that tells stories — for people in our own country who have been made silent by being disappeared.
Maureen, thank you for adding these enriching thoughts and perspectives to this discussion. I am grateful for your deep history with her artwork that can guide us to further reflection. My husband is a printmaker, and as I watch the physically demanding process of carving, it helps me see even more how emodied this medium is. I imagine Kollwitz's hands and arms sore and that pain being in conversation with the inner suffering being revealed in the woodcuts.
I am a fan of Kollwitz, as I think you can tell. I also am in awe of the sculptor and fibre artist Magdalena Abakanowicz, one of whose works is situated in the outdoor sculpture garden on Constitution Ave in D.C. She’s also represented in the National Museum of Women in the Arts. While using a very different medium, she affects me similarly; her burlap-bound headless figures are remarkably profound, I think.
I have collected original prints for a long time. Does your husband have a Website where I might see his work?
Thank you again, Kellie. Your writing on art is always a great pleasure to read.
I'll take a look at her work. I'm sure I'll love it. My husband's website is www.artbrowndesign.com. His linocuts are usually of mechanical creatures that are metaphors for social and political ills.
Sadly, this is a new artist for me. Thank you for bringing her life and work to note! What a challenge for us living today !
Thanks for reading. She has a lot to teach us.
I was very into her when I was in high school, probably because of the dramatic nature of her work.
Very cool
I love her work! She captures grief so starkly.
I only discovered her recently. My printmaker husband knew her, but I didn’t.
I learn so much every time you write! I’ve never really been drawn to the visual arts, but I do enjoy them when someone explains the “who what when where why how” of the artwork. I appreciate you for sharing this. Her work is something I probably never would have found on my own.