Designing Modern Germany by Jeremy Aynsley, published this year, is a text full of information and based on an important set of sources and references. The study is lead by the will of the author to understand and make clear how «cultural difference can be acutely perceived through design» (ibid., p. 22). Concluding the Introduction, explaining the reasons behind his research on a more personal level, Aynsley recalls the contrast of the two Berlins he felt in 1971, as he says his «first encounter with the full impact of material culture», i.e. the understanding of the role played by material culture in building political difference (ibid., p. 22).
Aynsley’s study investigates a broad period – 1870 to 2005 – and a panorama which is rather complex, both from the geopolitical and the sociocultural points of view. Yet, his research is well grounded and the path is clear.
First of all, as he writes in the Introduction, he deals with design in terms of that specific activity which is «practised by specialists known as ‘designers’ who develop ideas and products, helping to shape and form them, often in relation to the manufacturer and potential retailer, and sometimes also the consumer» (ibid., p. 9). Secondly, the author himself warns on the risks constructing «a history of the culture of design by nation» (ibid., p. 7); in fact he rather aims at analysing design and the culture of design as they are connected to concrete historical contexts, structures and discourses which can effectively be investigated. Aynsley already highlighted the relevance of structures and contexts in previous texts, for instance in Design in the 20th Century. Nationalism and Internationalism (London, V&A Museum, 1993), a short book dealing with design and the construction of identities. Now that he focuses on Germany, again he chooses to look beyond individual objects and name designers – somehow helped by the German attitude of resisting the promotion of individual, celebrity, designers, and rather following «a long-standing tradition of considering design professionalism, education and philosophy seriously and with continuity» (Designing Modern Germany, p. 11).
Consequently the author respects the accepted chronologies, and major political events as a «structuring principles» for the book, which is organized into five chapters: Design Ideals, Design Reform, Design Professions, 1870-1914; Experiment and Tradition in Design, 1917-1933; Politics and Design: Reaction and Consolidation, 1933-1945; Reconstruction and the Tale of Two Germanys, 1945-75; Reunification: Design in a Global Context, 1975-2005. This structure provides him with a basis that allows to depart from too rigid pictures and to depict lesser known episodes. Just to make some examples, for instance, he considers critical positions in order to highlight the multiple and even contrasting voices behind apparently well known stories like that of the Bauhaus (see pp. 84-85, about Georg Muche, who «challenged the implied necessary connection, often suggested at the time, between abstract form and the requirements of industrial design»); also he avoids too internalist reports of the history of design which might privilege some paths while hiding others (see pp. 101 and following, on the conservative taste in the Weimar period, contrasting the pre-eminent image of Weimar Modernism); similarly he draws from John Heskett to underline the points of continuity between Weimar and the epoch of the Third Reich; while, concerning the more recent paths in German design, he select cases of diverse designers, working in Germany or internationally, concluding that «the spectrum of design activity at the beginning of the twenty-first century meant that no single designer could offer the definitive answer to German design».
Yet, my aim here is not to give a full review of Aynsley’s text; rather I would like to get a little closer to the topic of museums as he deals with it.
As far as concerns museums, because of his approach and because he considers the period from 1870 to the twentyfirst century, Designing Modern Germany offers an interesting opportuniyy to reflect on the role of museums in the history of design, how it has changed from the applied arts museum movement of 1860s-70s to the “Museum Boom” of the 1970s-80s – in Germany as well as in other countries.
The book’s first and last chapters allow to briefly consider the different interests and economies of values laying behind the institution of museums dealing with design in the two centuries.
In the second half of the nineteenth century, the crucial point was education. In order to improve the quality of German products to compete in international markets, the “argument for Kunstindustrie” was raised in terms of education, and professionalization, of artists and handcraftsmen. The urge was felt to enhance a greater dialogue between art academies and trade schools, and exhibitions, schools, museums were to help in this direction.(1) While concern on the development of applied arts and manufactures was not new, it is true that the debate in Germany began in 1860s-70s, particularly in relation to the writings by theorists who reported on the state of industrial art and of its promotion in England, France and Austria: Gottfried Semper, who was in London as a political refugee at the time of the Great Exhibition, helping in its development, and who later drafted a scheme for an “ideal museum” to be organized around material and production technique,(2) and who also sent to Germany his recommendations for the “revitalization of the national spirit in art”; Hermann Schwabe, a university professor, who was sent to Britain to report on art and design education, and wrote diverse books recommending the institution of schools and study collections to support teaching activities; Julius Lessing, art historian and journalist, who instead reviewed the exhibitions in Paris (1867, 1878) and Vienna (1873) and organized two exhibitions of applied arts before being appointed director of the Berlin’s Museum. (At the same time, vice-versa, British design reformers and promoters, working to establish schools of design and institutions to systematically support education in applied arts and design, were concerned about the superiority both of the French and of the German models of art education).
The South Kensington Museum was opened in London in 1852, and Vienna followed in 1862 with the opening of the Österreishisches Museum für Kunst und Industrie, directed by Rudolf von Eitelberger. In Germany the Deutsche Gewerbe Museum (Museum of German Trade) opened in Berlin in 1867, accompanied by a teaching institute; Julius Lessing was appointed as director in 1872, and the museum was later renamed the Königliches Kunstgewerbe Museum (Arts and Crafts Museum of the Royal Collection). Other German cities soon followed, like Hamburg, Frankfurt am Main, Leipzig, Nuremberg and Munich.
Although the theorists mentioned above, other reformers and the directors of these museums could have different views on their organization and on the kind of collections that should be displayed, they all shared the belief these institutions had an educational purpose, both in the sense of training artists via collections of good models and in the wider sense of educating society as a whole and the taste of people, be it the artist/designer, the producer, the dealer or the consumer. As such, through collections and other activities like lectures and traveling exhibitions, museums of applied arts and their curators worked to establish the boundaries of the field of applied arts – boundaries which were not necessarily uniform, but offered a basis «that young designers would encounter, learn from and often react against in the years to come», as Aynsley writes (Designing Modern Germany, p. 34).
Skipping to the end of twentieth century (chapter 5 in Aynsley’s book), of course the panorama is radically different. As other observers, Aynsley relates the museum boom of the 1980s – exemplified by the Staatsgalerie in Stuttgart and the museum quartier in Frankfurt – to the post-industrial and post-modern condition:
«For some, this overwhelming interest in the past, the documenting and curating of design from earlier times against the back-drop of a post-industrial climate, was a furhter symptom of Postmodern anxiety about the future. The museums, prominent venues for this re-evaluation, were built to the designs of international architects appointed through competitions and increasingly seen as central to the cultural and economic revival and the landmark identity of cities» (p. 208).
As far as regards specifically design museums, then, Aynsley gives particular attention to two institutions which offer «contrasting perspectives on the question of curating modern design» (ibid., p. 209): the Bauhaus Archiv and the Vitra Design Museum.
The first, the Bauhaus Archiv was originally founded by Hans Maria Wingler in Darmstadt in 1960; it was later moved to Berlin, in 1971, where its research and exhibition programme continues to keep alive the legacy of the school, and spreading the knowledge of its teaching and design achievements, addressing «the design-interested public».
The set for the Vitra Design Museum is rather different, being backed by the Vitra furniture company and its ample design strategy. The line that Aynsley traces from the foundation of the company – by Willi Fehlbaum in Basel in 1934, on the south-west border between Germany and Switzerland – to the opening of the museum in 1989 is eloquent in telling how Vitra made use of what Guy Julier would call “historicty” (drawing from Alain Touraine) to build its status and identity, and how the company used design and architecture to position itself as a cultural and economic force(3):
«In 1957 Vitra gained the licensing rights from Herman Miller to distribute Charles and Ray Eames and George Nelson furniture in Europe, forming a parallel to Knoll Associates [...]. From this secure base the commission of contemporary designers began, the first being Werner Panton’s Panton chair in 1967. The project was a significant force in cultivating a lineage of high design from Jugendstil to the Bauhaus and mid-twentieth-century modern to Postmodernism. [...] Under Willi Fehlbaum’s son, Rolf, the company grew in cultural significance ad ambition: on the site at Weil am Rhein two factories designed by the British architect Nicholas Grimshaw were built in 1981 and 1986. The year 1993 saw the realization of the fire station, the first completed building by Iraqi-born British architect Zaha Hadid, and a conference pavilion by the Japanese architet Tadao Ando. Just as Vitra became an important site for contemporary architecture, it also became active as an international think-tank, running workshops on themes in architecture and design, and, most importantly, in 1989 opening the Vitra Design Museum under the direction of Alexander von Wegesack in a Frank O. Gehry building. This housed part of the extensive permanent Fehlbaum collection of furniture design and formed the base from which to originate ambitious curatorial projects and publications. In terms of the encouragement of contemporary design cultures, since 1987 Vitra Editions promoted ways fo internationally acclaimed designers to develop projects, in laboratory conditions, withouth the consideration of normal market circumstances as restrictions. To compensate for its geographical distance from many of the important urban centres for design, travelling exhibitions became an important element of the programme, while in 2001 an annexe of the Vitra Design Museum opened in a converted industrial building in Berlin for a short number of years» (ibid., pp. 210-212).
Though other museum stories are left out, Aynsley’s decision to focus on these cases, the Bauhaus Archiv and the Vitra Museum, is definitely appropriate to give an insight onto extremely different curatorial and cultural policies that today characterize museums of design – not just in Germany. Also it is significant to compare them with other perspectives, coming from the side of the former German Democratic Republic. Here, as Aynsley tells, besides traditional fine and decorative arts museums, still a rather material history approach is expressed and emphasis is put «on understanding everyday life rather than the profession or form of design» (ibid., p. 212).
Once more, this reminds of the multiple voices the interpretation of design can raise.
(1) On the applied arts museum movement in Germany see also: John Heskett, Design in Germany, 1870-1918, New York, Taplinger Publishing Company, 1986, in particular chapters 1-3, pp. 9 and following; Mitchell Schwarzer, “The Design Prototype as Artistic Boundary: The Debate on History and Industry in Central European Applied Arts Museums”, 1860-1900, in Design Issues, vol. 9, 1992, no. 1, 1992, pp. 30-42.
(2) See Gottfried Semper, The Ideal Museum. Practical Art in Metals and Hard Materials, Vienna, Schlebrügge.Editor, 2007 (MAK Studies).
(3) For “historicity” see Guy Julier, The Culture of Design, II ed., London, Sage, 2008, pp. 46-49; on the role of museums, see also chapter 5, “High Design”, pp. 75 and following.
