A uniquely unbiased flat (1)

Arabic bedroom in Wolfgang Gurlitt's residence, circa 1917.
Photo: Bildarchiv Foto Marburg. Source: www.fotomarburg.de.
Courtesy of Bildarchiv Foto Marburg.

“Alice followed Rosa through the corridor and up the stairs to the first floor.

'Let's see which room we can put you in,' Rosa said.

If I'm going to be a nuisance, I can always go to a boarding house, Rosa. That wouldn't be a problem!' Alice replied.

Rosa waved her hand, opened a door and closed it again. Nonsense,' she replied and opened the next. 'This house is big enough … Ahh, look here. This should do it. She swung the door wide open and ushered Alice into a small suite of rooms that seemed to have escaped from the pages of the Arabian Nights. So that's what Johann meant when he spoke of an Arabian bedroom and a mirrored wardrobe that Helena never used. Eyes wide open in amazement, Alice entered the small vestibule, the walls of which were painted with stars. Next to a washbasin with a floor-to-ceiling triple mirror was a large wardrobe built into the wall. Through an archway, separated from the anteroom by a curtain, she caught a glimpse of an oval-shaped bedroom. Her gaze lingered on the mural, painted in shades of gold and silver, that seemed to stretch endlessly around the room. On a small pedestal stood the bed, its footboard adorned with a wooden carving of Danae, surrounded by a radiant shower of gold. To the left was an equally expressionistic dressing table with three diamond-shaped mirrors, and to the right a thickly upholstered sofa”.

(From: Zeitenwende am Potsdamer Platz by Alexandra Cedrino, „Gästezimmer“, S. 85 - 86)

Berlin, 1917

Just a few steps away from Potsdamerstrasse was a small and very elegant street. Not everyone could afford to live in one of the beautiful two-story villas. And even those who could were suffering from war fatigue and hunger in 1917. But unlike the majority, they could buy food on the black market. Butter had long since become a luxury, eggs and real bread were scarce, and potatoes were hard to come by. Turnips dominated the menu instead.

Women and children collected cigarette butts to supplement their meager income by selling them to tobacco merchants. With the proceeds, they could afford a simple meal in community kitchens or mobile field kitchens along the streets. But often it wasn't even enough.

Between 1914 and 1918, some 700,000 people in Germany died from hunger, malnutrition, and diseases that weakened bodies could not fight off.

As the first hunger protests erupted on the streets of Berlin and black marketeering flourished, Wolfgang immersed himself in a luxurious project that offered him a temporary escape from the grim realities of wartime: the renovation of his gallery and living quarters by renowned architect Walter Würzbach(2). Wolfgang's aim was nothing less than the creation of an expressionist masterpiece. He wanted something awe-inspiring and unprecedented, something that would excite the senses and underline his commitment as an art dealer and patron of modernism.

Despite constant interruptions due to shortages of labour and materials, he managed to gradually realise his plans. Finally, on 1 June 1918, before the end of the war, he reopened the newly renovated gallery with an exhibition of works by Max Pechstein(3). The toil, the effort and the considerable financial investment had paid off.

In the dawn of 9 November 1918, as the newspapers screamed “Abdication of the Kaiser”, Germany was transformed from a fighting monarchy into an exhausted and defeated nation. While the battles on the frontlines had ceased, internal conflicts erupted. Which way should Germany go? Soldiers' councils, Spartacists, the Reichswehr, Social Democrats and Centre Party politicians struggled not only with words for decisions. Strange alliances were forged, their durability uncertain. Gunshots rang out and the threat of civil war loomed. While many were dismayed by the oppressive terms of the Treaty of Versailles, for Wolfgang the 'shameful peace' meant something quite different: at last he could devote himself fully to his projects. Even his house, Villa II, was to be completely redesigned, surpassing everything that had gone before.

One of the artists he enlisted to help him realise his dream was Max Pechstein. As early as 1914, he had lent Pechstein 10,000 marks for a trip to the South Seas and supported his family financially during the war years. Now he demanded repayment in the form of new paintings for the gallery, as well as designs and cartons for stained glass windows and mosaics.

The end result was spectacular in every way. In 1921, all of Berlin marvelled at the opulent and eccentric interior. Could Wolfgang have imagined better publicity for his art business? Would it not establish him as an open-minded and progressive expert in his field? Although it was labelled by some as the “Neuschwanstein of Expressionism”, there were endless treasures to be found in this fairytale building: Porcelain, glassware, tapestries, carpets, furniture, knick-knacks, bibelots, rarities, curiosities, artistically curated objects ranging from Biedermeier toys to “Negro fetishes”, from “Negro masks”, from netsuke to mosaics, glass wall coverings and colourful stained glass windows by Pechstein and Cesar Klein(4), along with paintings by Lovis Corinth(5) and Oskar Kokoschka(6).

And then there were the exotic rooms, accessed via a passage decorated with Pechstein's colourful mosaics and a short staircase: the mirror cabinet, with its two large, electrically lit glass windows that seemed to radiate into infinity, had a timeless feel, as if “a piece of dream and fairytale had become reality”.

The oval-shaped bedroom, with its wraparound mural on a silver background, seemed straight out of the Arabian Nights, bathed in coloured light through a stained-glass window titled “Das Urteil des Paris”, designed by Pechstein. Opposite the door, a bed stands on a small plinth, its head and foot adorned with expressionist carvings by Rudolf Belling(7). The adjacent bathroom, also flooded with coloured light, was illuminated by windows by Pechstein and Klein.

But good taste has to be paid for. Wolfgang couldn't handle money. Earning it, spending it, was no problem. Keeping it was another matter entirely. The renovation, his lavish lifestyle, gobbled up huge sums of money. Hyperinflation devoured it voraciously, making what couldn't be spent one day worthless the next!

It was a great relief to Wolfgang when it turned out that his new employee, Lilly Agoston, a Hungarian Catholic of Jewish descent, had an eye for finances and could assist him in all practical matters. Wise and prudent, Lilly, whom he valued for her sharp mind and determination, soon became his right hand, his business partner and his best friend for life. She remained faithful to his side until her death.

But that is a story for another day …

(1) Apartment Wolfgang Gurlitt by Paul Westheim, published in: „Das Kunstblatt“, 12/1921, Ed. Paul Westheim

(2) Walter Würzbach

(3) Max Pechstein

(4) César Klein

(5) Lovis Corinth

(6) Oskar Kokoschka

(7) Rudolf Belling