Letter from Else Meidner to J.P. Hodin

Description

[Transcription/translation]

30 March 1969

De profundis

Dear Dr Hodin,

I’ve been suffering so much on account of my paintings recently that I no longer know what to do. I can’t go on. The paintings have been stood there under sheets for years. But when I look at them I’m convinced they have culture. But who wants that? There are no hard, fat lines around my nudes, portraits and landscapes. Their iridescent light and their tonal values just don’t conform to the taste of our age. But they’re beautifully painted. Is coarseness beautiful? But our age is coarse, and art has become coarse, and the layman doesn’t know that delicacy and tenderness are artistic too, that there’s more to art than brute force. I’ve never thought I was a genius, just a good artist, and our time needs good artists more than it needs geniuses. These days they all start out as geniuses and end up as nothing. Scheffler says artists who have no success are held in contempt. And that’s my experience. As an artist I’m treated like a criminal. But my work is deadly serious. It’s no bluff. I start to feel nauseous when I see too much modern painting. It’s ignoble. And most of the drawing one sees is just decorative art. Nothing’s properly painted. It’s brushed on brutishly. But knowing this doesn’t help me. I’ve lost life’s battle. Having set out as a proud frigate, the capsized ship is returning to land. And people no longer enjoy art, whether it’s fine art or music. They just criticise, tear everything up, rip it to pieces. It’s just like Liebermann said: ‘Doctors have it good; their mistakes end up six feet under, whereas ours hang on the walls for all to see and criticise.’ Tell me, my dear Dr Hodin, will you’ll always look on me kindly, whatever happens, even if I behave undiplomatically? I can’t do any better. I’m doing my best. I’m just no good at dealing with other people.

Sincerely yours,

Else Meidner

Read more