HUNGRY GERALD

In Paris a few years ago I had the stimulating experience of seeing the definitive show of the Dada movement organized beautifully at Centre Pompidou. The work of Hans Richter..his films, paintings, woodcuts, graphic designs..were given great prominence. I was pleased.  Hans Richter is one of my heroes and mentors, little known or remembered in the United States but as the Dada show indicated,  much appreciated in Europe. Some background on Richter (1888-1976): Born in Germany.  Wounded while fighting with the German army in World War One.   An artist almost from birth, he left for Switzerland (Zurich) after his army discharge. He was convinced of the total absurdity of war and its trappings…medals, uniforms, marches, flags, patriotic songs, jingoistic speeches…..accompanied by booming guns and ending with the meaningless maiming and murder of young men. This anti-war stance coupled with his belief in revolutionary change (only modified during World War Two) was part of his belief structure and artistic thrust. The absurdist Dada movement seemed an appropriate response to war madness.  With great enthusiasm, Richter joined Zurich’s Dada circle of artists, writers and musicians. I am not going to give the very literate followers of HG a lengthy description of Dada. If you’re not familiar with Dada, look it up.  In 1940, Richter moved to the United States and for the next 18 years divided his time between New York and his summer home in Southbury, Connecticut.  His principal activity during these years was making films..abstract, surreal films. They are remarkable.  Here are three: Dreams That Money Can Buy (my favorite); 8 x 8: A Chess Sonata In 8 Movements (with Marcel Duchamp, Jean Cocteau, Max Ernst, Fernand Leger, Alexander Calder);  Dadascope (poems written and spoken by Hans Arp, Kurt Schwitters, Marcel Duchamp).  As you can see by his list of collaborators,  Richter knew,  worked with, and was admired by,  many of the towering figures of modern art.  He was a particular hero of the avant garde in the United States and Europe.  I met Hans when I was an undergraduate at City College of New York and he was teaching at the College’s Institute of Film Techniques. My concentration was in journalism so I spent a year at his classes,  watching the great films and writing lengthy film critiques,  envisioning a future career as a film critic like James Agee and Manny Farber.  Richter was a great, passionate teacher.  His German-accented voice sometimes grew  hoarse as he rhapsodized about von Sternberg,  Griffith , Renoir,  Pabst,  Von Stroheim and others. Basically, he taught me how to see.  His dissection of my papers was meticulous.  I was a favorite student, received only ‘A’.  I admired Hans.  He was the picture of European elegance.  Straight steel gray hair.  Casual, but well tailored clothes.  Never a tie (too bourgeois).  Rather, a silk ascot and a casually draped wool scarf (followers of HG may note that he continues this tradition of dress albeit without the requisite elegance).  One afternoon after class, Hans invited me for coffee so we could continue our heated discussion of “Grand Illusion.” He maintained that it was a film about war but without any villains. It was totally anti-war but didn’t have any carnage scenes.  Instead, it focused on the absurdity of the entire enterprise and intimated that those who believed in it would be, as Lenin put it: ‘Swept into the dust bin of history.” Well, Renoir was a great film maker but not historically prescient. Not only is war still with us…maiming and murdering…but it becomes more absurd with each passing day. Segue back to Hans Richter and the young HG at The Campus Griddle on Broadway. Hans ordered a grilled cheese sandwich with his coffee. I was mesmerized by the grace of his table manners. Fork in his left hand, knife in his right. He cut the sandwich into eight segments. Deftly picked each one up and ate. No crumbs. He took his leave. On his way to a dalliance, I thought. For he was not only a dandy but even at late middle age a bit of a libertine, I suspected. He returned to Switzerland in 1958 (probably sickened by McCarthyism)  while still spending some time at his American summer home.   He gave up film making and returned to painting.  Hans died in Switzerland in 1976.