Kurt's Cuts: 'Schwitters In Britain'

Kurt Schwitters, 'En Morn', Paper Collage, 1947

After my revelatory experience in The British Museum's 'Ice Age Art, Arrival of the Modern Mind' exhibition I made my way to Tate Britain to view their 'Schwitters In Britain' show.  I always get slightly nostalgic when visiting the old building on Millbank.  For so many years it was the go-to location for Modern Art in London and I've lost count of the inspiring exhibitions I've seen there over the years.  The old Sugar Shack was instrumental in my Art education long before the brand explosion of 'Tate', 'Tate Modern/Britain/St. Ives/Liverpool', etc. and, while it's great to have them all, I still enjoy returning to the original site.  It feels odd to enter through the side door as one must do nowadays though.

Kurt Schwitters, 'Untitled, (Including Self Portrait Photo)',
Paper Collage, 1937-38

I was relatively unacquainted with Schwitters' work in the original, although he is, of course, well known for his association with the Dadaist Avant-garde and pioneering use of collage, assemblage and multi-media platforms under the umbrella title of 'Merz'.  Effectively, through his employment of found material and commercial imagery, he forms an Art Historical bridge between pre-War Dada and the Pop Art of the post-War recovery years.  Aspects of his work prefigure the performance, installation and immersive environment trends of more recent years too.

Kurt Schwitters, '47.15 Pine Trees', Mixed Media
Collage, 1946-47

Whilst the show touches on all of this, it's main focus are Schwitters' latter years spent in this country.  In some respects, he represents the epitome of the artist in exile. Having been denounced by inclusion in the Nazi's Degenerate Art Exhibition of 1937, he decamped, first to Norway, then, in 1940, to Britain where he was initially interned as an enemy alien.  He never achieved the stability or established career he sought and died in poverty, but still productive, at his final home in Kendall, Cumbria in 1948

Kurt Schwitters, 'Erster Platz - Mz 307 Jettchen',
Paper Collage, 1921

I found the most impressive works on show to be the small-scale paper collages, and of those, the earlier German examples pleased me most.  I'd never appreciated how delicately cut and assembled they were and how intuitively skillful Schwitters was in balancing his palette of found colours.  Having got my eye in, I also noticed there was a soft, golden cast over many of these pieces which, I realised, was the effects of cheap paper fibres browning over the years.  It seems that even the shock juxtapositions of Dadaist disjuncture are visibly unifying and mellowing with age.  Schwitters' method can appear primarily random and serendipitous, and it would be foolish to overlook the layered meanings and textual détournements arising from the accidents of fragmented text and imagery in his collages.  However, many also display a strong organizational force formally, and some even show a perceivable Constructivist influence.

Kurt Schwitters, 'Das Bumerbild', Mixed-Media Collage, 1920

What did interest me was the way that the later collages, produced during Schwitters' ex-patriot years become rather less elegant and appear to acquire more of what we might regard as a 'Pop' sensibility.  Whether it was by choice, or as the result of improved colour printing I'm not sure, but some certainly seem to presage the Technicolor  aesthetic of the post-war World.  Along with this trend goes a willingness to incorporate more overt elements of knowing humour and even political satire into their content.  Perhaps, along with the hardships and inconveniences of exile, Schwitters was able to enjoy the luxuries of free expression, and the chance of a creative future.

Kurt Schwitters, 'Merz Picture 46A', Mixed Media Assemblage, 1921

I won't pretend I'm as attracted to the relief assemblages, many of which have a kind of street scruffiness without gaining much 'edge' from it, in my view.  The small sculptures fully in the round leave me even less impressed.  However, it's important to remember that so much of this work was lashed together under difficult circumstances or on the fly.   Many of the sculptures were constructed actually during Schwitters' enforced travels and he appears to have been compelled to abandon works or have them sent on to his next interim destination on several occasions.

Kurt Schwitters, 'Untitled, (Opening Blossom'),
Painted Wood & Plaster, 1942-45

That he worked as tirelessly as he did is impressive in itself, considering the material obstacles and indifference he endured following his flight from Germany.  Amongst the British works on show are some fairly underwhelming representational paintings and it's evident that Schwitters attempted to supplement his meagre resources through portraiture and even tourist imagery during his Cumbrian years.  One amongst them did capture my imagination however, being a singularly drab architectural view from a high window and across an expanse of grey roof.  Painted on salvaged linoleum, during his internment on the Isle of Man, it's a touching and salutary reminder of his determination to keep working tirelessly, even with limited options.  That dreary image was imposed on him; not necessarily chosen.

Kurt Schwitters, 'Untitled (Roofs of Houses in Douglas, Isle of Man)'
Oil on Linoleum, 1941

Despite my pleasure in seeing the earlier collages, this might be the most memorable aspect of the Tate exhibition.  At a time when the Arts in Britain face an uncertain future, Schwitters' indomitable creative impulse may be an invaluable example and a reminder that degrees of adversity are all relative.

I'd planned to end my London trip with an evening visit to the Hayward Gallery's seductive 'Light Show' but, disappointingly, as I emerged from The Tate I realised my knackered arthritic knees had other ideas and it would have to wait for another day.  By chance, London was putting on its own riverine light show with a combination of dramatic twilit skies and the intimidating but spectacularly illuminated buildings, (including the bizarrely extrovert MI6 ziggurat), on the Lambeth bank of the Thames.  I contented myself with some consolation photos, (with which I'll end this post), before limping gingerly towards Westminster Tube Station.

'Schwitters In Britain' Runs at Tate Britain, Millbank, London, until 12 May 2013.