Bauhaus: An Unrealized Utopia

Freedom, Equality, Fraternity! – Walter Gropius (Benson 204)

Rainer K. Wick declares the Bauhaus to be “one of the most significant and consequential cultural initiatives of the twentieth century” (11). Such statements are not uncommon. The Bauhaus was indeed a remarkable enterprise, and its interdisciplinary aspirations made a profound impact on art education. The school’s founders wanted to create a unified community of artists and craftsmen. In fact, the utopian language used to describe this mission exceeds even the reverential language used by Wick to describe the achievements of the Bauhaus. Practice at the Bauhaus, however, often contradicted the school’s stated mission, which proposed equality between artist and craftsman, between men and women, and between social classes. Contemporary admiration for the Bauhaus tends to reflect an affinity with the ideals expressed by the school’s founders rather than a careful examination of how the school implemented these ideals.

The Bauhaus set out to break with the recent past by embracing a romanticized version of the distant past. Walter Gropius, who founded the Bauhaus and served as its director for nine years, resisted the tradition of academic art. He associated this tradition with bourgeois culture, monarchical power, classicism, and an isolated and unproductive artist. He felt his age needed a vision that reunited art with productive activity, a vision where art acted in service of society not against society.

In the early part of the twentieth century, academia became a target for criticism. The academic tradition separated art from craft and increased specialization led to the isolation of the artist. Critics viewed academia as “the defender of a conservative and classicistic conception of art, a rigid institute in support of traditions and an enemy of progress against which modernizers like Eugene Delacroix, Gustave Courbet, the impressionists, and others would struggle for decades” (Wick 54). For those at Bauhaus, conservative art was not just as stylistic issue, it was a social issue. Hinnerk Scheper, an instructor at Dessau Bauhaus, wrote: "You cannot simultaneously paint academic nudes and construct a chair for a house, for the masses ... academic art painting is dead—throw its abandoned corpse out of the house" (Wick 64).

The rise of academic art was not always viewed as a negative development. Architectural historian and critic, Nikolaus Pevsner wrote: “It is one of the most important developments of the nineteenth century that the “academization” of his instruction was completely or almost completely achieved… Now only—or as artist said: now at last—art was really no longer a craft, no longer a trade...” (Singerman 80). At the time, scholars celebrated the separation of art from craft. They believed it elevated art and legitimized the artist. Art became more than an utilitarian form. This distinction between utilitarian art and academic art remained a central issue despite the Bauhaus’ claims to the contrary.

Gropius wanted to reintroduce the connection between art and craft by associating the Bauhaus with the Middle Ages. He hoped this connection would separate his school from the art academy. The name Bauhaus alludes to the BauhOtten, or masons’ lodge, of the Middle Ages. Wick explains: “The masons' lodge of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries was a cooperative organization of the artists and artisans engaged upon the building of a large church or cathedral under the artistic and administrative direction of persons appointed or approved by the body which had commissioned the building” (Wick 52). Gropius had a similar vision for the Bauhaus. He envisioned a project for a “great total work of art” undertaken by a cooperative of artist and artisans working under the guiding principles of architecture. “And this great total work of art, this cathedral of the future, will then shine with its abundance of light into the smallest objects of everyday life...” (Wick 74). In the Bauhaus manifesto of 1919, Gropius wrote:

"The ultimate aim of all creative activity is the building! The decoration of buildings was once the noblest function of the fine arts, and the fine arts were indispensable to great architecture. Today they exist in complacent isolation, and can only be rescued from it by the conscious co-operation and collaboration of all craftsmen. Architects, painter and sculptors must once again come to know and comprehend the composite character of a building both as a entity and in terms of its various parts. Then their work will be filled with that true architectonic spirit which, as ‘salon art’, it has lost (Kolocotroni 301).

The Bauhaus required, to an even greater extent than the arts and crafts schools had, an integrated study of fine and applied art. Students were even required to undergo a journeyman’s exam in one of the crafts (Wick 65). Gropius proclaimed thorough training in the crafts “…is required of all students as the indispensable basis for all artistic production” (Wick 57). He wished to associate Bauhaus with the masons’ lodge of the Middle Ages in an effort to call in to being a community of artists with a cooperative spirit. As Wick relates, Gropius conceived of the Bauhaus “as the starting point and center for a new culture and a more idealistic (socialist) society. This backward-looking in the service of social and cultural renewal provided great impetus for the future. This utopia was eminently pedagogical in the sense that Gropius held unwaveringly to the possibility of realizing it by means of an aesthetic education based in the crafts” (Wick 74). As Gropius wrote:

Let us therefore create a new guild of craftsmen without the class-distinctions that raise an arrogant barrier between craftsman and artist! Let us together desire, conceive and create the new building of the future, which will combine everything—architecture and sculpture and painting—in a single form which will one day rise towards the heavens from the hands of a million workers as the crystalline symbol of a new and coming faith (Kolocotroni 301). Wick describes the mission of the Bauhaus in slightly less grandiose language as “concentrated on two goals above all: aesthetic synthesis (the integration of all genres of art and branches of the crafts under the primacy of architecture) and social synthesis (the orientation of aesthetic production around the needs of a broad segment of the population and not exclusively around the demand of a tiny stratum of the socially and economically privileged)” (52).

This still describes an ambitious undertaking which proved difficult to implement. Ultimately, many contradictions arose between rhetoric and practice.

During the first few years of the program, Gropius appointed nine artists as form masters. Of the nine, one was an architect, one was a sculptor, and the rest were painters. Many have suggested that Gropius chose these painters deliberately, to establish the school’s reputation. (It has also been suggested (by Mies van der Rohe) that it was Gropius’s wife Alma’s idea. (Dearstyne 43).) Regardless, this strategy does not reflect a desire to create a harmonious cooperative of artist and craftsmen. It also undermines the primacy of architecture at the school. It reflects a pragmatic approach to insuring the success of the school over any utopian vision.

At the same time, this strategy proved to be a successful one. It drew students. Claire Kosterlitz, for example, remembered her excitement at the prospect of studying at the Bauhaus: ‘Klee and Kandinsky, those were the ones” (Weltge 47). But the seven painter masters also set the stage for an ongoing conflict between artist and artisan. Students expected the Bauhaus to function like an avant-garde art school rather than an artisan workshop. After accepting the post as form master, Osckar Schlemmer wrote in a letter to a friend:

There is a danger that the Bauhaus will turn out to be not very different from a modern art academy for the thing which should distinguish it fundamentally from such schools—handwork and the workshops—is only incidental… furthermore, the students are said to have little interest in genuine handwork, their chief ambition being to become modern painters (Dearstyne 55-56).

Paul Klee was among the celebrity painters brought to the Bauhaus in those early years. Although not trained as a teacher, he dedicated himself to the task, and he developed many significant theories about painting and art education during his time at the Bauhaus. Still, it seems clear he preferred his painting to teaching. In a letter to his wife in 1929, he wrote about his teaching duties: “[i]n this way precious years of production slip away” (Wick 236). Klee had little interest in crafts or applied design, and his direct involvement in the workshops was negligible (Wick 235). Anni Albers spoke of her experiences as a student of Klee:

I admire Klee very much. But what I learned from him I learned from looking at his pictures. Because as a teacher he was not very effective. … Klee was so concerned with his own work. He would walk into the room, go up to the blackboard, turn his back to the class, and start to explain something that he probably thought was of concern to those listening to him. But he probably didn't know at all where each of us there was in his own development, in his own concern, in his own searching. … On the other hand, I find that he probably had more influence on my work and my thinking by just looking at what he did with a line or a dot or a brush stroke and I tried in a way to find my way in my own material and my own craft discipline (Albers).

Many have written about the significance of Klee’s theories concerning pictorial design and the lessons he developed for the preliminary course at the Bauhaus. His thoughts about basic design concepts still serve as a model for many contemporary design courses. However, his concepts rarely proved valuable to the artisan in the workshop. Nevertheless, Gropius and others believed Klee’s contributions to the preliminary course to be an essential component of education at the Bauhaus. This reinforced the biased notion that the artisan had much to gain from the artist (Wick 251). Klee, as well as Kandinsky and Itten, opposed much of the Bauhaus ideology regarding collective work by championing the personality of the individual artist (Wick 149). He also envisioned this personality to be masculine. When addressing the female weaving students he wrote: “You were industrious: but genius is not industry….Genius is genius, is grace, is without beginning and end. Is begetting” (Wick 155). It is hard to imagine that Gropius ever truly believed that the distinctions between art and craft would be broken down. Even as he spoke in glowing terms about the importance of craft, he saw art as something special, something set apart and even unteachable. In his “Theory and Organization of the Bauhaus,” Gropius wrote:

the artist has been misled by the fatal and arrogant fallacy…that art is a profession which can be mastered by study. Schooling alone can never produce art! Whether the finished product is an exercise in ingenuity or a work of art depends on the talent of the individual who creates it. This quality cannot be taught and cannot be learned. On the other hand, manual dexterity and the thorough knowledge which is a necessary foundation for all creative effort, whether the workman’s or the artist’s, can be taught and learned (Singerman 22).

Although he hoped artisan workshops could teach artists the “manual dexterity” of the workman, Gropius did not expect that the production of the workman/craftsman would ever rise to the level of art. He hoped only for what he described as the "fertilization of the crafts by the artist-innovator" (Wick 61). He may also have had a more mundane goal of assuring employment for the artist in mind: “The coming years will show that for us artists the crafts will be our salvation. We will no longer stand by the side of the crafts but be a part of them, since we do have to earn money” (Wick 74). The artist in the program would get training in craft and would be useful. The students that did not have talent enough to be artists would at least be influenced by the aesthetic sensibilities of the artist. In practice, the Bauhaus functioned as a hierarchy rather than a synthesis of arts and crafts. Gropius and the other masters of form never considered crafts equal to art, nor did they consider their colleagues in the craft workshops to be equal to the task of directing the program or guiding its future. Gropius established a system where each workshop would have two masters: one representing the fine arts, usually referred to as a master of form, and the other representing crafts, called a master of craft. “Instead of academic titles, the old guild titles were to be used, in an attempt to break away from the bourgeois academic tradition” (Baumhoff 30). This system ensured that all workshops integrated both disciplines into the education of the students. The titles and the rhetoric suggested equality between art and craft. In reality, the relationship between the master of form and the master of craft was not at all equal in terms of power or workload. The master of craft had more responsibility for running the workshop and for hands-on instruction. Even the students noticed this discrepancy and treated the masters of crafts with less respect. One former student describes how the master of craft, “was actually like a worker for us and was not considered a real master” (Baumhoff 31). The council of masters governed the school. They made decisions about the operations of the program and the future direction of the program. The masters of crafts were not allowed to participate in council meetings. Admittance was restricted to the masters of art and the director (Baumhoff 32). Understandably, the masters of crafts protested this point, and in 1922, it was agreed that the masters of crafts would be consulted on certain issues. However, Gropius insisted that they should never have a vote in the council. He explained:

[this] does not at all mean a set-back for the masters of craft…if they are not represented in the council of masters in just the same way as the masters of form. It is crucial to the fields of specialization at the Bauhaus that it is easier for artist to involve themselves in a craft, which can be learned, than for the craftsmen (to take up) questions of art, which are not only matters of training but also a talent for a vocation.

Elsewhere Gropius describes the masters of craft as “subordinate and situated far from the center of events” (Baumhoff 33). Gropius was not alone in his bias against the masters of craft. Itten spoke of how “they are not in a position to have a clear grasp of things and thus to influence decisions…” (Baumhoff 34). The artists and artisans did not come together as equals and integrate into a unified whole. Instead, the artists used the crafts workshops to further their education without offering a similar opportunity to the artisans. Certainly it became common to see artists and architects experimenting in the area of crafts or what might now be more likely called design. Albers designed tables. Gropius designed bookshelves. But artisans could not enter the world of fine arts with similar ease. As a former student of the pottery workshop commented, “For an architect, it was simple to declare even the tiniest ceramic object as significant—this relationship did not work the other way around” (Wick 338). Howard Dearstyne’s description of a ‘picture’ he created from pieces of wood of varying grains in the Furniture Workshop reveals a similar prejudice: “This elicited general admiration, but somehow I was never invited to hang it beside the works of Kandinsky or Klee” (103).

The Bauhaus also failed to live up to its rhetoric when it came to the issue of female students. In an address to the student body Gropius said: “No distinction between the beautiful and the strong sex. Absolutely equal rights, but also absolutely equal duties. No consideration for ladies; at work all craftsmen. I shall strongly oppose the limited occupation with pretty little salon pictures to pass the time” (Baumhoff 53). However, the Bauhaus favored male students. The school funneled women into a limited set of workshops, with the favored option being weaving. When responding to a female applicant, Gropius writes: “It is not advisable, in our experience, that women work in the heavy craft areas such as carpentry and so forth. For this reason a women’s section has been formed at the Bauhaus which works particularly with textiles; bookbinding and pottery also accept women. We are fundamentally opposed to the education of women as architects” (Baumhoff 59).

Sadly, the form master in charge of the Pottery Workshop, Gerhard Marcks, openly opposed admitting women to his classes, and the Bookbinding Workshop only lasted three years. This left female students with little option but to enter the Weaving Workshop (Weltge 42). Anni Albers, who was to become one of the most renowned textile artists of the twentieth century, was among these students. She initially requested to join the glass workshop, and when she discovered her limited options she reacted badly: “Weaving? Weaving I thought was too sissy. I was looking for a real job: I went into weaving unenthusiastically, as merely the least objectionable choice” (Weltge 47). At the Bauhaus’ inception, before it became a matter of policy to restrict women to certain workshops, women could participate in all the different courses. But even then they faced unofficial opposition. One early student describes her experience: “… at first I was not exactly welcomed: a woman does not belong in the Metal Workshop was the opinion” (Weltge 44). By the end of 1920, Bauhaus had established a separate class for women and their education became even more segregated (Baumhoff 64). Eventually the weaving workshop and the women’s class merged into one entity, and the two designations were used interchangeably (Baumhoff 76).

The Weaving Workshop was the only workshop to operate for the entire fourteen years of the Bauhaus’ lifetime (Weltge 16). It was also arguably the most successful, at least in terms of reputation and fundraising. It would seem not a bad fate to be limited to the Weaving Workshop, but the leaders of the Bauhaus did not know it would become such a success. In fact, it would seem the council expected very little of the Weaving Workshop. Gropius willfully undermined one of his own guiding principles when assigning a master to the Weaving Workshop. He declared it essential that students receive thorough training in the techniques of their discipline from skilled masters of craft, but placed Helene Boner in charge of the weaving students. They described her as having little knowledge of weaving. They viewed her as old fashioned and suited only for teaching needlework. Her inexperience forced students to teach themselves. Anni Albers says of those first years: “There was no real teacher in textiles. We had no formal classes. Now people say to me: “you learned it all at the Bauhaus’! We did not learn a thing in the beginning.” (Weltge 46).

Gropius appointed George Muche as the master of form for the Weaving Workshop. Muche himself felt that he was not suited for the task. And while he dedicated himself to the business aspect of the workshop, he made no effort to familiarize himself with the practice of the weavers: “I promised myself, never in my life would I weave threads with my own hands, or tie a knot, or design a textile. I kept my promise. I wanted to be ready for painting… (Baumhoff 91).

In 1928, Hannes Meyer replaced Gropius as director of the Bauhaus (Wick 77). Under his leadership the relationship between art and craft changed dramtically. The workshop took on a more dominant and practical role, and the less pragmatic fine arts occupied a more peripheral position. Meyer made the “free painting classes” optional. Still, a clear division between arts and crafts existed, and Meyer made no attempt to unify the artist and artisan in accordance with the vision long espoused by the leaders of Bauhaus.

Under Meyer the Bauhaus arguably came closer to reaching the goal Wick referred to as “social synthesis.” Meyer focused the production of the institution on solving problems of the working class. The Bauhaus became a force to improve the living conditions of the masses rather than refining the aesthetic sensibilities of a small segment of the elite. After political dissension forced Meyer out of the Bauhaus, the leadership role fell to Mies van der Rohe. He had no interest in a unified education of artist and designers. He also showed little regard for the painting classes or the painters on faculty, and he even dropped the preliminary course from the list of requirements (Wick 83). Mies van der Rohe did not continue Meyer’s mission of art in service to social betterment. He designed for the bourgeoisie.

The Bauhaus closed in 1932, only fourteen years after it opened. Its disbandment helped widen its influence: “… the fascism of Hitler led to a diaspora of Bauhaus teachers and students whose concept of instruction very quickly became a global phenomenon…” (Wick 13). Key figures from the Bauhaus relocated to the United States and became players in other programs of lasting influence, such as Black Mountain College, Yale, and the Chicago Institute. The Bauhaus’ conception of the introductory design course still exists in nearly every art school in this country, and in some ways this is all that remains of the interdisciplinary spirit of the program. It is telling that these former members of the Bauhaus made their impact as autonomous individuals and not as members of a collective. They worked in isolation in their respective fields. Many remained true to the ideals of Bauhaus but none were in a position to implement such lofty goals. The Bauhaus diaspora consisted largely of artists and architects. The paths taken by the masters of craft remain unknown, and with the exception of Anni Alber, few women from the Bauhaus have achieved fame.

The Bauhaus mission placed a great deal of emphasis on the synthesis of the disciplines of art and craft. Gropius spoke of interdisciplinarity in utopian tones. Like any utopian vision, his promise necessarily fell short. The Bauhaus legacy lives on through the influence of famous individuals rather than through the realization of a unified collective of artist, architects, and craftsmen.

Works Cited

Albers, Anni. Interview with Sevim Fesci. Archives of American Art. Smithsonian Institution. 1968 .

Baumhoff, Anja. The Gendered World of the Bauhaus: The Politics of Power at the Weimar Republic’s Premier Art Institute, 1919-1932. Frankfurt: Peter Lang, 2001.

Benson, Timothy O., and Eva Forgacs, ed. Between Worlds: a Sourcebook of Central European Avant-gardes, 1910-1930. Cambridge: MIT Press, 2002.

Dearstyne, Howard. Inside the Bauhaus. ed. David Spaeth. New York: Rizzoli, 1986.

Kolocotroni, Vassiliki, Jane Goldman, and Olga Taxidou, ed. Modernism: An Anthology of Sources and Documents. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1999.

Singerman, Howard. Art Subjects: Making Artists in the American University. Berkely: University of California Press, 1999.

Wick, Rainer K., ed. Teaching at the Bauhaus. Ostfildern—Ruit: Hatje Cantz: 2001.

Weltge, Sigrid Wortmann. Bauhaus Textiles: Women Artists and the Weaving Workshop. London: Thames and Hudson, 1993.