German Socialist and Liberal Policies, and Their Influence on Art in the 1960s

By Malcolm Schultz

As the Berlin Wall divided a nation, the artistic landscape of modern art in the 1960s is represented by a contrast between the German Democratic Republic, or GDR, i.e. East Germany, and the Federal Republic of Germany, or FRG, i.e. West Germany. Walter Ulbricht’s Socialist Unity Party of Germany (SED) in the GDR pursued the ambitious goal of forging a “classless society and the new human being,” (Zils 2023) establishing a governance model that extended its influence over every facet of the republic’s social fabric, encompassing “political, ideological, scientific, technical, economic, and cultural” (Zils 2023) realms. The zenith of this ideological commitment unfolded during the 1959 Bitterfeld Conference, where Der Bitterfelder Weg took shape as a comprehensive initiative. This visionary plan aspired to bridge the gap between workers and intellectuals in the art world, aligning their creative endeavors with the SED’s political platform to address the artistic needs of the common man. 

The FRG had no equivalent to Der Bitterfelder Weg, but there was a socially accepted style that artists often didn’t stray from. According to historian Claudia Mensch, the FRG has had a reputation with scholars for being a liberal bastion of artistic freedom, but further analysis shows that this is not wholly true. Pure abstraction, influenced by American artist Jackson Pollock, was the accepted style of modern art at the time in West Germany, but not all artists subscribed to the style. While it’s true that the GDR was repressive artistically, the FRG was not as free as some scholars suggest. 

No artwork encapsulates the policies of the GDR more profoundly than Walter Womacka’s Am Strand. Born in Czechoslovakia and later residing in Germany for the majority of his life, Womacka, an unwavering supporter of communism, crafted Am Strand in the vein of East German Socialist Realism. This artistic style was endorsed and propagated by the Association of Visual Artists in the GDR (VBK) and other GDR critics, evolving from the roots of German modernism. 

Clad in matching red shirts, Am Strand depicts two figures reclining casually on a beach enveloped in the embrace of warm red sand. The youthful man directs his gaze towards the woman, who, in turn, looks in a different direction. Their fingers lightly graze each other, imbuing the scene with subtle suggestions. In the backdrop, the sea gracefully conjures a tranquil wave, careful not to disrupt the serenity of the tableau. Womacka’s oil strokes meticulously craft a realist painting, distinctly falling within the realm of Socialist Realism, a classification underscored by the pervasive and symbolic use of the color red. 

During its creation, independent critics were uncertain about the future trajectory of German Socialist Realism. They critiqued Am Strand as one of the “straightforward depictions or copies totally lacking in sophistication…negative attempts at reaching Socialist Realism through superficial depiction of people, objects, and events” (Mensch 2008, 33). However, state-influenced press and critics celebrated the piece as a triumphant manifestation of Socialist Realism, resonating positively with viewers who deemed it their favorite that year. 

Socialist Realism comprised four essential tenets—it sought to be proletarian, portraying art relevant and comprehensible to the working class; typical, depicting scenes from the daily lives of the people; realistic, adhering to representational accuracy; and partisan, aligning with the State and Party objectives (Booker and Juraga 2002). Am Strand echoed these principles. 

The impact of this piece extended beyond the confines of the art world; Am Strand was reproduced over three million times as art prints, postcards, and art calendars, and a stamp featuring the artwork in 1968 had a circulation of twelve million (Grennan 2022). This widespread reproduction underscored that Der Bitterfelder Weg was less about addressing the “growing artistic-aesthetic needs of the working people” (Zils 2023) and more about branding—an endeavor to perpetuate an artificial socialist culture in the fledgling state through the mass production of art. 

Hailing from the eastern reaches of Germany, Brigitte Reimann entered adulthood within the confines of the GDR. Initiated into the world of literature at the tender age of 14, Reimann etched her mark primarily through her journals, which eloquently captured the GDR’s pervasive influence on the arts, particularly literature, but with an extended impact on the realm of fine arts as well. The entries within these pages vividly illuminate the profound and constraining effect of the GDR’s policies on the artistic landscape of the time. Artistic endeavors faced stringent scrutiny from the “narrow-minded dogmatists” (Reimann 2019, 147) who held sway over the artistic domain; if creation failed to align with their ideologies, it faced exclusion from publication. 

Reimann’s poignant narratives shed light on the financial hardships she and her writer-husband, Siegfried (known as Daniel in her diaries), endured in the GDR. The stringent rejection from cultural critics, influenced by state directives, pushed Daniel to the brink of self-destruction, driven by a perceived “failure” (Reimann 2019, 135) as a writer. This perceived failure, however, was a judgment imposed by publishing critics rather than the readers. The critics, guided by state influence, deemed the book’s protagonist as “petty-bourgeois” and labeled the narrative as “un-socialist” (134), leading to its outright rejection. 

Following Daniel’s recovery, the couple, desperate for financial sustenance, embarked on the creation of a radio play centered around factory workers, albeit harboring little optimism for its success. Through the implementation of Der Bitterfelder Weg, their radio play garnered state approval and funding. However, this approval came with a stipulation—the couple was mandated to visit the factory setting of their play and instruct the workers in the art of writing. This directive formed an integral part of the approach, deemed a “programmatic development of socialist cultural policy” (Zils 2023) intended to cultivate an independent socialist national culture.

Reimann’s journal style, deeply personal, occasionally expresses intense anger at the GDR and its artistic policies, “Our motto is lying on our desk: ‘Three difficulties when writing the truth: True is whatever the editors believe is true. Beautiful is whatever the editors believe is beautiful. Typical is whatever the editors believe is typical’” (Reimann 2019, 153).

Reimann’s accounts reflect a sense of entrapment, compelled to adhere to every suggestion proffered by socialist editors. Her diaries reveal participation born not out of pride in the art they were producing but out of sheer monetary desperation. This experience serves as a microcosm of the GDR and Der Bitterfelder Weg—a stark choice between conforming to the production of Socialist-approved art and adhering to the prescribed plan or facing inevitable rejection. 

Turning attention to an artist who defied the prescribed plan, A.R. Penck, formerly known as Ralf Winkler, offers a compelling case study. Navigating his formative years amidst the division of Nazi Germany into the GDR and the FRG, Winkler, hailing from Dresden, spent the majority of his life as an East German under Soviet influence. According to Mensch, aspiring to carve a path in the artistic realm, Winkler fervently sought admission to the aforementioned VBK. However, persistent denials compelled him to earn a livelihood as a laborer. The rejections from state-sponsored art institutions became a recurring theme for Winkler, a pattern evident from his numerous unsuccessful applications to both the East Berlin and Dresden academies. 

In a significant turn of events in 1966, Winkler secured a candidacy to join the VBK. Unfortunately, due to the unconventional nature of his work, his candidacy was rejected just two years later. Faced with repeated setbacks from Soviet art institutions, Winkler adopted the pseudonym A.R. Penck, perhaps as a necessity to shield his notorious art from the party’s scrutiny. This transformation marked him as the “father of alternative art in East Germany” (Mensch 2008, 155). His artistic creations served as both a departure from the prevalent styles of Germany during that era and a rebellion against the sanctioned styles of the Socialist GDR. 

Here Penck paints Ein mögliches System (A Possible System) in his distinctive pseudo-cave painting style. On the far right, a figure holds a sign proclaiming “A = Ich; Ich = B,” while a group of imprisoned figures displays various iterations of “A,” enduring the assault of other figures wielding axes. On the far left, dancing figures pay homage to a central figure holding a sign titled “A = Ā,” accompanied by another sign portraying figures embracing and coexisting. The color palette is restrained, dominated by blacks and greys, a hallmark of Penck’s artistic expression. 

The SED’s pervasive influence unfolded with diverse consequences, acting as a catalyst for the ascent of some artists, coercing compliance in others, and actively alienating those who deviated from the party’s agenda. Unsurprisingly, this comprehensive agenda failed to yield the envisaged results, prompting the SED to abandon the program in 1964 according to Zils. This pivotal moment marked not only the end of an ideological experiment but also underscored the inherent challenges in reconciling artistic expression with political doctrine in the pursuit of societal transformation. However, in the period of Der Bitterfelder Weg, we can see the desires of artists for a “Third Way,” illustrated in Penck’s Ein mögliches System. A third way, as discussed by Zils, was an economic movement in the FRG in the 1960s that stood somewhere between Western free-market liberalism and Eastern socialism, namely containing a social market economy. However, this “third way” extended further than economics and permeated into the world of modern art. 

While these three selected artists and the circumstances of their art portray the GDR as being an inhospitable place for art, one should examine life for artists outside of the GDR. As mentioned earlier, the FRG was always thought of as a place for free artistic expression, but that isn’t the case with artists Eugen Schönebeck and Georg Baselitz. According to Mensch, both were born in the GDR in the 1930s and both left GDR art schools and defected to the FRG in the mid-1950s. Upon arrival to the FRG and enrollment in West Berlin art schools, neither was particularly moved by the abstraction movement, the accepted style of art in the FRG, influenced by Pollock. 

Instead, the two artists collaborated on Pändemonisches Manifest II, or the “Pandemonium Manifesto.” In their writings, much borders on incoherence, but an overarching desire for a return to the figure is stated. However, the style of the figure in which they desired to paint was not that of socialist realism, but rather neo-expressionism. This desire to break from the status quo of the FRG is highlighted again in the manifesto “Its condemnation of ‘the amiable’ who proceed ‘by art-historical accretion’ and its rejection of ‘those who can’t wrap art up in a smell’” (Michelli 2012). This “third way” of modernism is shown with Baselitz’s P.D. Stengel or “Pandemonium Stalk.” Painted in neo-expressionism, this was a break from Pollock’s pure abstraction. 

Though Baselitz defected from the GDR, it was expected that “artists would certainly abandon the ‘primitive’ tendencies of Soviet-style Realist painting. Why would Baselitz invoke a … figure of Realism… after arriving in West Berlin?” (Mensch 2008, 106). “Stalk” is also extremely phallic, so while the painting revives the figure, something long-dead in FRG art, it depicts the figure in a way that’s also foreign to socialist realism—hence, a third way. Stalk, along with another of Baselitz’s, titled Der große Nacht im Eimer, or “The Big Night Down the Drain” depicts a similar style of figure-focused phallicism. According to the Guggenheim Museum, “In 1963, Baselitz’s first solo exhibition at Galerie Werner & Katz, Berlin, caused a public scandal; several paintings were confiscated for public indecency” (The Solomon R. Guggenheim Foundation 2023) and immorality. After two years of proceedings, the paintings were finally returned to Baselitz. 

In the ostensibly free and culturally vibrant Federal Republic of Germany, celebrated as a hub of artistic expression, a perplexing reality emerged. Creative minds, daring to deviate from sanctioned artistic norms, found their works subject to detainment. This occurrence brought to light the repercussions faced by artists who refused alignment with the accepted styles of the state, shedding light on the far-reaching consequences experienced on both sides of the ideological divide. In this seemingly liberated enclave, the censorship of avant-garde expressions served as a stark reminder of the delicate balance between artistic autonomy and prevailing socio-political norms, revealing the nuanced complexities that unfolded within the context of the divided nation. 

References 

Baselitz, Georg. Germany 1938 – , Die große Nacht im Eimer (The Big Night Down the Drain), West Berlin, FRG 1962-63, Oil on canvas: 250×180 cm, Museum Ludwig – Cologne, Germany. 

Baselitz, Georg. Germany 1938 – , P.D. Stengel (P.D. Stalk), West Berlin, FRG 1962, Oil on canvas: 130×90 cm, Michael Werner Gallery – New York City, United States 

Baselitz, Georg. Germany 1938 – , Schönebeck, Eugen. Germany 1936 – , Pändemonisches Manifest II (Pandemonic Manifesto II), West Berlin, FRG 1962, Paper, typewritten, ink drawings: 88×124 cm, Berlinische Galerie – Berlin, Germany 

Booker, Keith and Juraga, Dubravka. “Socialist Cultures East and West.” 68. Westport: Praeger. 

Grennan, Rosemary. 2022. “Grab your pen, buddy, German socialist culture needs you!” The Left Berlin, September 19. https://www.theleftberlin.com/grab-your-pen-buddy-german-socialist-cultur e-needs-you/. 

The Solomon R. Guggenheim Foundation. 2023. “Georg Baselitz.” The Solomon R. Guggenheim Foundation. https://www.guggenheim.org/artwork/artist/georg-baselitz. 

Mensch, Claudia. 2008. “Modern Art at the Berlin Wall: Demarcating Culture in the Cold War Germanys.” 32-157. New York: Tauris Academic Studies. 

Michelli, Thomas. 2012. “One Paints, the Other Doesn’t.” Hyperallergic, September 22. https://hyperallergic.com/57227/eugen-schonebeck-david-nolan-gallery/. 

Penck, A.R. Germany 1939 – 2017, Ein mögliches System (A=Ich) (A possible system (A=I)), East Berlin, GDR 1965, Oil on canvas: 95×200 cm, Museum Ludwig – Cologne, Germany 

Pollock, Jackson. United States 1912 – 1956, Number 18, Long Island, United States 1950, Oil and enamel on Masonite: 56×56.7 cm, Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum – New York, United States 

Reimann, Brigitte. 2019. “I Have No Regrets: Diaries 1955-1963.” Edited by Angela Drescher, Translated by Lucy Jones. 133-153. New York: Seagull Books. 

Womacka, Walter. Czechoslovakia 1925 – 2010, Am Strand (At the beach), East Berlin, GDR 1962, Oil on canvas: 91×116.5 cm, Albertinum – Dresden, GermanyZils, Harald. 2023. “Lecture Slides.” Binghamton University.