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Postmodern?

Art and Architecture in the Third Reich


James Cockroft

Literature on art in the Third Reich tends to focus on the political, psychological, and
social aspects of the work, viewing artistic and architectural style in light of the political and
social aims of the National Socialists: as propaganda, a return to traditional genre forms designed
to legitimize and reinforce state policy and authority. This is understandable, since art, as a
cultural product, can never be divorced from the society in which it was produced. However, in
order to remain objective, it is important to see National Socialist art on its own terms, without
directly linking the art to horrors perpetrated by the Nazi program. To that end, I focus on ways
in which art of the period may be seen as prefiguring certain postmodern impulses, especially the
double-coded postmodernism of Charles Jencks. I do not wish to equate postmodernism with
fascism. After all, according to Jencks, critics of postmodernism such as Kenneth Frampton often
compare postmodernism to Nazi populism, charging double-coded architecture with paternalism,
monism, and totalitarianism.1 My only aim here is to read National Socialist art and aesthetic
policy in terms of the postmodernism advocated by Jencks, noting similarities and differences
between the two, and reinforcing the notion that there is no sharp break between modernism and
postmodernism; in fact, as noted by Jean-Franois Lyotard, postmodernism is undoubtedly a
part of the modern.2 I will begin with brief overviews of National Socialism and double-coded
postmodernism, followed by an examination of works by state-sanctioned artists and architects
that illustrate the correspondence between the two movements.
Following World War I, Germany was in shambles. The treaty of Versailles forced
Germany to accept responsibility for the Great War and make substantial territorial concessions,

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leaving the country bankrupt. During the Weimar republic period, the gulf between classes
widened, unemployment increased exponentially, and rival political factions vied for control of
the fractured government. One such party, the National Socialist German Workers Party
(NSDAP), gained support throughout the 1920s and came to power in January of 1933,
promising to end unemployment and return Germany to its place as an industrial and social
power. According to NSDAP thinking, modernity was the ultimate cause of the countrys
problems and they sought to unify society through a return to traditional culture and a belief in
the Volksgemeinschaft, a community of destiny founded on the blood and the soil.3 NSDAP
leaders understood the value of art as a means of promoting their social and political aims and
instituted a cultural policy designed to glorify the new German state, largely through a return to
traditional narrative and genre forms that were reinterpreted to serve National Socialist goals and
programs. According to NSDAP policy, modern art and architecture served only to glorify the
creators ego. When placed solely in the service of the artist or architect, the ego is a destructive
force, driving a wedge between specialists (artists, critics, historians, and the like) and the public.
When placed in service of society and the ideal, however, the artists ego becomes a creative and
sustaining force, and works glorify the people and the state. Therefore, the National Socialists
advocated a return to idealism, believing it to be the foundation on which society flourishes.
Atonality in music, abstraction in art, and Bauhaus-style architecture were banned, since such
modern tendencies deprived the people of archetypes, base-metaphors, and myths, the elements
necessary for understanding and relating to the work.
The NSDAP rejection of modern art as alienating the public seems related to the claims
of many postmodern theorists, including the double-coded theory of Charles Jencks. A thorough
discussion of the various postmodern theories is beyond the scope permissible here, though an

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outline of Jenckss theory will help explain some of the features we find in German art of the
period. For Jencks, the postmodern era is marked by the end of avant-garde extremism, the
partial return to tradition and the central role of communicating with the public.4 Jencks
advocates a combination of modernist techniques and classical style in architecture; a double
coding that results in new forms that appeal to architects and the public alike. For Jencks,
postmodern art and architecture may be characterized by some or all of the following
Ideological identifiers5: double coding of style; popular and pluralist; semiotic form;
traditions and choice; artist/client; elitist and participative; piecemeal; and architect as
representative and activist.6 National Socialist aesthetic policy appears to run against several
assumptions implicit in Jenckss list. However, in the final analysis, many NSDAP projects that
at first glance appear antithetical to Jencksian postmodernism may, in actuality, prefigure his
theory.
For example, National Socialist myth making seems to go against Jenckss view of
postmodern mythology and the changes it underwent in the shift from modernism to
postmodernism. According to Jencks, Whereas a mythology was given to the artist in the past
by tradition and a patron, in the Post-Modern world it is chosen and invented.7 We may assume
that this statement removes any possibility of postmodernism in NSDAP art, since the mythology
employed by artists was rooted in tradition and prescribed by a patron (in this case, the state).
However, the National Socialists did not use myths as they had come down from tradition, they
chose and invented myths to serve specific programmatic ends, and the artists themselves played
a role in articulating the new cultural mythos. The architects of NSDAP aesthetic policy read
traditional myths through the lens of modern technological advancement, social and economic
conditions, and the situation of Germany following World War I, creating a new, hybridized,

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complex, and contradictory set of state-sanctioned myths designed to articulate the situation and
expectations of the new German society.
By 1937, the year of the famous degenerate art and music exhibitions, artists remaining
in Germany began working in the traditional genre styles favored by NSDAP policy makers.
State-sanctioned artists and architects, such as Ivo Salinger, Leni Riefenstahl, Arno Breker, Josef
Thorak and Paul Ludwig Troost, produced works in classical or mannerist styles, employing
traditional narrative structures while also exhibiting and referencing modernist techniques and
themes. The adoption of National Socialist aesthetic theory by artists of the period should not be
seen as an adoption of fascist ideology; they simply chose to employ styles and themes favored
by their patrons, so as to increase their chances of future commissions. Despite the adoption of
state-sanctioned genres, viewers can easily see the influence of modernism in the work of these
artists. Furthermore, a close reading of these works reveals a clearly identifiable double coding
of traditional and modern codes, techniques, and forms, as well as indications of postmodern
tendencies. In what follows, works by Salinger, Riefenstahl, Thorak, Breker, and Troost are
compared with works from the postmodern canon that exhibit the characteristics described by
Jencks.
In order to thrive and expand, the NSDAP government needed a large, healthy, and
growing population committed to the vision of a new German society. Given the ever-increasing
population losses due to expatriation, forced labor, World War II, and other factors, the National
Socialists instituted a system of natal propaganda designed to promote the reproduction of pure
Germans, while also serving to define acceptable partners and gender roles. This natal
propaganda campaign appropriated recognizable images from well-known mythology, such as
Leda and the Swan, and the Judgment of Paris, redefined to serve state purposes. According to

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this propaganda, Leda was right to accept the advances of Zeus. After all, Zeus was a god, and
any woman should be happy to produce offspring with gods. In fact, women should happily
accept any opportunity to procreate with male party members, which would produce more
healthy Germans to continue expanding the glory of state. Similarly, men were to mate with as
many women as possible, and should employ any tactic that would ensure procreative activity,
though they must be careful to choose healthy mates of pure German stock. Hence, artists
employed the Paris myth, in which Paris must judge the beauty of three goddesses. Many artists
produced works that explored these myths, including Ivo Salinger, whose Leda and the Swan and
Judgment of Paris also seem to exhibit certain Jencksian characteristics.
Salingers Leda and the Swan depicts Leda in a seductive pose reminiscent of advertising
and pornography, reclining near a stream in a wooded landscape, seemingly unaware of the
swans approach. At first glance, the painting may be seen as a somewhat failed attempt to return
to a classical or mannerist painting style, but something else is happening here. Notice the flat
handling of the figure and drapery and the sketchy quality of the grass and trees. Flattening of the
body and stroke-heavy delineation of plant forms is characteristic of certain modernist impulses,
which, when combined with the classical arrangement, traditional narrative, and contemporary
pose seems to imply a double coding of modernism and classicism. As noted above, NSDAP
natal propaganda appropriated traditional myths, reinterpreted them, and placed them into a
modern context that would appeal to the people while conveying the roles that the Third Reich
expected people to play. This simultaneous appeal to the general public, on one hand, and to
specialists (or the state), on the other, is characteristic of postmodernism as formulated by
Jencks. The traditional story of Ledas meeting with the swan has little relevance to modern
society, yet seems to take on a new meaning through its combination of traditional and modern

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elements. Salingers painting, by reinterpreting classical mythology to serve a new purpose,


seems to employ the semiotic form advocated by Jencks, if we interpret semiotic form as forms
designed to encourage interpretation and understanding by viewers and other end-users.
Another painting by Salinger, The Judgment of Paris, takes the double coding of
classicism and modernism one step further. Here we see Paris, holding the Golden Apple,
moments after his judgment in favor of Aphrodite. Athena and Hera dress while Aphrodite
moves towards Paris, arms outstretched in an open, inviting pose. Interestingly, the drapery that
Athena wraps herself in is composed of only a few flat planes of color, depriving the cloth of a
truly three-dimensional feel. Additionally, as noted by Eric Michaud, Paris seems to be wearing
the costume of a member of the Hitler Youth.8 The landscape appears to be painted in a
somewhat traditional manner, though careful observation reveals the distance and depth to be
composed of flat planes of color, rather than through any traditional glazing or highlighting
techniques, much like Salingers handling of the drapery. Here, modern costuming and flat paint
handling again combine with a traditional landscape and narrative to produce a double coding of
classical and modernist styles. Interestingly, the female bodies also seem rather masculine, as if
Salinger painted a couple of male bodies, augmented with female primary and secondary sex
characteristics, and then merely added female faces to them. Here the double coding is of the
masculine and feminine, perhaps alluding to the pluralism found in Jencksian postmodernism.
In this case, pluralism should be understood in the largely negative sense of a devolutionary
system designed to subsume individual bodies under a larger state-organized body. I am certain
that Jenckss pluralism refers more to the plurality of stylistic codes and organizing principles
in government, rather than a plurality of sexual characteristics. However, a certain brand of
semantic pluralism is evident in Salingers work. Undoubtedly, Salingers loose understanding of

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the body and movement contributed to the androgyny of the figures, and there is no reason to
suspect that such androgyny was intentional. Intentional or not, the postmodern impulses toward
a double (or triple) coding of modernism with some other code(s), and a tendency toward some
form of pluralism, though not necessarily Jencksian pluralism, are apparent in the work.
To explicate this further, we may compare Salingers works with Carlo Maria Marianis
The Hand Submits to the Intellect and The Grand Creative Process. Both images are painted in a
style reminiscent of mannerism, but lack the sensitivity of handling found in mannerist works.
Jencks advocated Mariani as exemplary of postmodern double coding, due to the modern
concerns combined with a classical or traditional handling found in his work. In the case of The
Hand Submits to the Intellect, Mannerist figures and paint handling are employed to reference
the birth of painting and the Dibutades myth, as well as late twentieth century discussions of the
Cartesian mind/body split, embodied consciousness and other philosophical and scientific
theories of cognition and phenomenology. Additionally, the body of the reclining figure in The
Grand Creative Process seems to be both male and female, much like those found in Salingers
Judgment of Paris. Mariani is undoubtedly more skilled at his craft than Salinger, yet the end
results are quite similar. Both employ classical or mannerist styles and techniques double-coded
with contemporary concerns to create readings of traditional or popular narratives suitable to the
age and society in which they were created.
Other artists working under the strictures of National Socialism copied traditional forms
even more directly. Leni Riefenstahls photograph Olympia: Living Statue presents viewers with
the archetype of male strength and virility, in this case a German discus thrower, in a pose
closely resembling that of Myrons Discobolus. Myrons classic sculpture was greatly admired
by Hitler, for it showed how splendid man used to be in the beauty of his body, and we can

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speak of progress only when we have not only attained such beauty but even, if possible, when
we have surpassed it!9 Here we find evidence of the idealistic mode of thinking encouraged by
the National Socialists in their aesthetic and social policy. Myrons sculpture is idealized, not
actual, a fact that is clearly seen when comparing the sculpture to its living copy. Here we find
Jenckss popular and pluralist tendency, which he contrasts with the modern utopian and
idealist.10 Riefenstahls Living Statue is an actual member of the population, showing the
volkskorper, the body of the people (or an exemplary body to be worked towards), which is
easily contrasted to the elongated and idealized body found in Myrons statue. That the body of
the athlete is an idealized body is of little importance, since this is an attainable and actual body.
Though National Socialism was in some sense an idealized and utopian project (no matter how
misguided), Riefenstahls photograph is popular, of the population, and pluralist, because
through double coding it combines the two metanarratives of classicism and National Socialism.
The photograph references both the Myron statue and the ideal of German male virility and
power, reinforcing themes found in natal propaganda and other NSDAP social programs, while
also appealing to a popular audience for whom the propagandist nature of the imagery may only
register unconsciously. This double coding may be made even clearer by comparing
Riefenstahls photographs with works by Cindy Sherman, a currently living artist known for her
postmodern practice of photography.
In the 1990s, Sherman remade herself in the image of old master paintings, creating selfportraits that appropriate images from art history to comment on and critique contemporary
social structures. For example, her 1990 photograph Untitled (#224) replicates Caravaggios Self
Portrait as a Sick Bacchus. Employing makeup and costuming to transform herself into the
mythological seducer in a sort of Butlerian drag performance, Sherman re-reads Caravaggios

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work as a critique of patriarchy and heteronormativity. Shermans works are clearly postmodern
in the Jencksian sense, as they employ classical motifs to reflect on contemporary issues, and so
we can identify a direct parallel between Shermans Bachus and Riefenstahls Living Statue.
Both remake a classic work from art history to discuss contemporary issues. While Riefenstahl
presents the ideal of male virility and power in NSDAP Germany, Sherman critiques patriarchy
and heteronormativity in current Western capitalist society. Though the theoretical and historical
models differ, the result is the same: a double coding of modernism with some other code.
Shermans examination and critique of heteronormativity through her transformation of
self into old master paintings is characteristic of certain impulses in postmodern art. The
dissolution of the subject and the rejection of normalcy (defined as white, heterosexual, and
male) found in postmodernism may be viewed as antithetical to the National Socialist project.
However, as sculptural works by Josef Thorak and Arno Breker show, NSDAP art often
undermined the authority of the male heterosexual subject, depicting men as ultimately
dependent and contingent on the state for survival and identity definition.
Josef Thorak and Arno Breker both produced sculptures entitled Comradeship, which are
meant to show the courage and brotherhood of the German people, though, as we will see, other
issues arise in the work. Thoraks sculpture of 1937 depicts two men holding hands and staring
defiantly into the future. They are grotesquely muscled, with large hands and feet typical of
mannerist figures, though somewhat clumsily modeled. At first glance, the men seem to be
models of the ideal National Socialist warrior, strong-willed, superhuman, and ready for battle.
However, their clasped hands and crossed legs betray an interdependence and familiarity
seemingly uncharacteristic of modernist ideas of masculinity. This familiarity need not be read as
a homosexual impulse, though authors and theorists have noted certain homosexual tendencies in

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NSDAP dogma.11 The friends are not individuals; they are a collective unity, entirely dependent
on one another for strength and stability. This familiarity and unity reflects the volksgeist, the
spirit of the German people that provides the basis for the Volksgemeinschaft. Their collective
strength, however, betrays a dependence and vulnerability uncharacteristic of National Socialist
policy, ultimately serving to undermine the spirit of the people and will of the party.
Brekers 1940 bas-relief continues the theme, though the scene has changed. No longer
strong and defiant, yet still highly dependent on one another, one man cries out in anguish as he
drags his comrades lifeless body to safety. If, in Thoraks sculpture, the interdependence was
implicit, here it is explicit. The figures are no longer grotesquely muscled supermen; they now
appear emaciated and weakened, perhaps due to the escalating war. This image was likely meant
to remind viewers of the necessity of sacrifice in ensuring the continued spread and success of
the Reich and the Volksgemeinschaft. However, this image also seems to fail in its attempt to
bolster national pride. The expression of anguish shows neither the strength to carry on, nor
confidence in National Socialist programs. Instead, his friend is dead, and the surviving man is
left to carry the weight of failing social policy on his own, as pictured through the body of his
friend. We may see Brekers work as exhibiting the Jencksian postmodern signifier of artist as
representative and activist. Breker was lauded as the embodiment of NSDAP ideology, and was
given a studio and large private residence in Paris, where he was provided with forced labor from
French and Italian prisoners.12 He served on several cultural boards and played some role in
looting artworks from occupied lands, yet he also worked to free certain Russian Jewish
prisoners, though such activities were not entirely altruistic, thereby implying his dual role as
representative and activist.13 In his Comradeship, we can clearly see this impulse. The work

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encourages viewers to remain confident in the success of the party, while simultaneously
suggesting imminent defeat.
This is further reflected in his Wounded (1942). The man is now alone, his comrades are
dead or missing, and he is wounded, head in hand, bemoaning his fate and the state of the party
in a pose of abject defeat. The wounded soldier, as representing the Volksgemeinschaft of 1942, is
no longer strong, defiant, or brave. He appears unable to continue the struggle, though the battle
rages on. It is interesting to note that by 1942 increasing numbers of children and elderly citizens
began serving as soldiers and guards in the homeland, while the majority of able-bodied adult
males fought on the various fronts. Wounded seems to reflect this; the wounded soldier bemoans
his fate and the fate of his children. Here, as in virtually all works of NSDAP art, we find the
double coding advocated by Jencks, a combination of classical or mannerist styles with modern
sensibilities. Brekers handling of the figure, as in all of his works, refers to classical Greek and
Roman sculpture, but without the sensitivity to proportion and harmony found in classical works.
Harmony and proportion have been replaced by National Socialist dogma and stylistic
prescription.
We might compare this work of Brekers to August Rodins famous Thinker of 1880-82.
This is an obvious comparison, as the poses are virtually identical. However, where Rodins
figure is subjective, egotistic, and contemplative, Brekers is objective, idealized, and emotional,
reflecting the NSDAP rejection of modern individualism and rationalism in favor of the
Volksgemeinschaft. Rodin intended his sculpture to be part of a series depicting the Gates of Hell,
influenced by Blakes illustrations of Dantes Inferno. The Thinker is Dante, seated before the
door to Hell, contemplating his poem; as a figure, he symbolizes philosophy and poetry.14 The
same can not be said of Brekers work, which symbolizes only regret and shame; regret over the

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loss of friends and relatives to the war effort, and shame for the lack of strength and will
exercised on the battlefield, as well as the direction National Socialism was taking the country.
The attempt to reference classical ideas through modern materials and codes also extended to
Architecture as well, as seen in Troosts House of German Art.
The House of German Art, completed in 1937, is a fine example of NSDAP neoclassical
architecture, resembling numerous buildings in the western world. Interior spaces of the House
of German Art closely resemble many other modernist museums, with large, high, open spaces lit
by skylights, far removed from classical architecture and building techniques, although
containing a lavish decor reminiscent of palaces throughout Europe. Troost made his reputation
as a designer of luxury ocean liner interiors and extended this practice to his design of the House
of German Art, creating a lavish monument to German culture, which was totally unjustifiable
given the economic state of Germany at the time. The columns that line the front of Troosts
building are completely smooth cylinders, devoid of the sensitive fluting and tapering found in
classical architecture, although they recall classical public buildings and the grandiosity of
neoclassical construction. However, if we were to remove the classical arcade, this building
could be one of the many modernist museums, office buildings, or parking garages found
throughout the world. Despite the traditional building materials, the House of German Art
contained the most modern environmental control and civil defense systems available at the time.
This combination of traditional materials and styles with Modern equipment and techniques
represents the simplest use of Jencksian double coding, albeit in a somewhat naive manner.
Additionally, according to Hitler, The building was also conceived of as a turning point that
would put an end to the chaos of architectural dabbling we have seen in recent years.15 We may
see an echo of this in Jenckss claim that Modern architecture had failed to remain credible

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partly because it didnt communicate effectively with its ultimate users and partly because it
didnt make effective links with the city and history.16 The return to classical form in an attempt
to unify state architecture and communicate effectively with the public while remaining true to
modern technological considerations can be seen throughout the architectural projects pursued
and realized by the National Socialists, thereby tying NSDAP architecture to Jencksian doublecoding.
In addition to the numerous works of art and architecture, National Socialist society
exhibited certain elements of Jencksian postmodernism, especially the ideology of elitism and
participation that Jencks advocates. Under NSDAP control, German society enjoyed a low crime
rate and employment approaching one hundred percent. The National Socialists constructed
numerous buildings and an extensive highway system that remain in use today. Of course the
improvements in German society occurred only due to the exclusion of large numbers of the
population through internment and genocide. Still, the remaining population did participate
heavily in the National Socialist project, exalting the NSDAP leadership and making huge
sacrifices in support of the war effort. Thus, the society was elitist and participative, though
perhaps not in the way Jencks envisioned the process, since he advocated an end to
totalitarianism in art and a move away from what might be called authorial fascism, the
absolute rule of creative genius over any other considerations. In Jenckss mind, postmodernism
in art and architecture put an end to the absolute authority of single individuals and codes, hence
the various ideological impulses he mentions. However, although Hitler was the unquestioned
and absolute ruler of National Socialist Germany, and the will of the state was imposed on the
people, the coding employed by Hitler and his advisors to define the role and content of art in
the society was expanded and perpetuated by artists and the public at large. The NSDAP

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government was undoubtedly authoritarian, yet it only existed due to the support of the people: it
was, under a certain interpretation, elitist and participative, popular and pluralist, complex and
contradictory. By the end of the regime, the motivating image[s] had accelerated the
production of motor roads, cannons, acropolises, suspension bridges, engines, seaside resorts,
television projects, cities of the dead, ruins, and worksites, all of which coexisted in
confusion.17 This confusion, between the horrors perpetrated by the Nazi regime and the
beneficial social programs parallels the schizophrenic nature of postmodernism, further
suggesting links between National Socialism and various theories of the postmodern.
By way of a conclusion, through an examination of National Socialist genres and the
genre form in general, as well as the concept of realism in NSDAP society, the difficulties
inherent in National Socialist aesthetic policy will become clear. The genre form developed in
response to the rise of capitalism, which put an end to traditional forms of patronage, forcing
artists to create works for unknown viewers and purchasers. This new market depended on the
ability of artists to create an identifiable style and work with specific genre forms, thereby
encouraging continued patronage. This stylistic branding made innovation and change extremely
difficult, since buyers were unlikely to purchase unrecognizable works, dooming artists and the
genre form itself to stagnation. Traditional themes in genre painting included landscapes, farming
and hunting scenes, mothers and children, fruits, vegetables, flowers, and young women,
amongst others. National Socialist art pursued similar themes but, as noted by Berthold Hinz,
in contrast to earlier genre painting this new genre painting was weighed down
with the task of proclaiming essential truths and making binding prophesies. Every
child and every cow was now supposed to embody the sacred mysteries of the
natural order. This meant that children or cows - once they were painted - could no
longer be what they were. They became masks of the proclaimed substance, masks
that made up the face of the National Socialist system.18

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This system of idealized mythology, though it tended to depict the material world, had little or
nothing to do with realism. According to Hinz, Objectivism is not realism if the objects depicted
are not themselves drawn from the reality of the present.19 In fact, realist painters in Germany
had been among the first victims of the art purges, since the verism practiced by painters of the
Weimar period depicted the capitalist, bourgeois world; a world that National Socialism
attempted to destroy by claiming that it was egotistic and destructive. In contrast, NSDAP art
depicted a world that, if it ever existed, was no longer possible in modern western societies; a
world of joyous labor, unified culture, and unending prosperity. The actual situation of National
Socialist society was far different than the depictions found in painting, which were meant to
prescribe ways of living and encourage activities and beliefs that would allow National
Socialism to survive and thrive, despite its destructive character.
The horrors perpetrated by the Nazi regime left an indelible mark on world thought and
any attempt to view National Socialist art divorced from its horrific social context is necessarily
doomed to failure. However, by foregrounding the postmodern impulses found in National
Socialist art, one may move discussion of the works beyond the traditional political, social, and
psychological readings found in Hinz, Micheaud, and others, providing an additional
understanding of the forces surrounding artistic production in the period. Additionally, when
viewed in this way, the art of the Third Reich shows the existence of certain postmodern
tendencies well before Jenckss date of 1961.20 Though Jenckss postmodern theory is not Nazi
populism, as other authors charge, NSDAP art exhibits many of the ideological impulses of
postmodernism defined by Jencks, as well as the double coding that characterizes his theory.
Thus, Jenckss theory seems a useful tool for describing controversial art works, uniting
Modernism and postmodernism, and putting to rest some of the controversies in the postmodern

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debate, and National Socialist may be seen to serve a purpose beyond its destructive and
propagandist origin.

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Notes
I am grateful to Donald Kuspit and Leah Modigliani for their comments and suggestions in the
preparation of this essay.

Cockroft 17

Jencks, What is Post-Modernism (New York: Saint Martins Press, 1986), 10

Lyotard, The Postmodern Condition: A Report on Knowledge (Minneapolis: University of Minnesta Press,
1984), 79
3

Michaud, The Cult of Art in Nazi Germany (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 2004), 256

quoted in Rose, The post-modern and the post-industrial: a critical analysis (New York: Cambridge University
Press, 1991), 101
5
6

ibid., 115
ibid.

Jencks, What is Post-Modernism?, 27

Michaud, The Cult of Art in Nazi Germany, 157

quoted in Michaud, The Cult of Art in Nazi Germany, 148

10

quoted in Rose, The post-modern and the post-industrial: a critical analysis, 115

11

see, for example, Geoffrey Gilles, The Denial of Homosexuality: Same-Sex Incidents in Himmlers SS and
Police, Journal of the History of Sexuality 11, no. 1 (2002)- 256-290; and Stefan Michler, Homophobic
Propaganda and the Denunciation of Same-Sex-Desiring Men under National Socialism, Journal of the History
of Sexuality 11, no. 1 (2002): 95-130
12

Petropoulos, From Seduction to Denial: Arno Brekers Engagement with National Socialism, Art, Culture,
and Media under the Third Reich, ed. Richard A. Etlin (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2002), 215-217
13

ibid., 215

14

Phelan, Who is Rodins Thinker? Artcyclopedia (August, 2001), http://www.artcyclopedia.com/feature2001-08.html (accessed March 22, 2007)
15

quoted in Hinz, Art in the Third Reich (New York: Pantheon Books, 1979), 8

16

Jencks, What is Post-Modernism?, 14

17

Michaud, The Cult of Art in Nazi Germany, 219

18

Hinz, Art in the Third Reich, 80

19

ibid.

20

Jencks, The Language of Post-Modern Architecture, 3rd ed. (New York: Rizzoli International Publications, Inc.,
1991), 11

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