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Monument to the Unknown Political Prisoner (1952-1953) was an International Sculpture Competition, hosted by the Tate Gallery in London, featuring Egon Altdorf, one of three prize-winners of the German prelims. More than commemorations to those who had ‘’given’ their liberty in the cause of human freedom' – as per the criteria – the works were carved with the first-hand experience of having had such liberty wrenched from them.
Born in Treptow an der Rega (now Trzebiatów, Poland) in 1922, Altdorf was raised between West Pomerania and Berlin. Later sculptures, drawings, and woodcuts were often tinged with the religious symbolism of his Catholic upbringing, and, during World War II, poetry became a particularly important outlet for the artist, as he was drafted into the army, and taken as a prisoner of war in Tunisia.
At American internment camps, Altdorf participated in an intensive programme to educate administrators for the reconstruction of post-war Germany; highlighting the overlaps between cultural and political diplomacy, the soft and hard power plays that would characterise the oncoming Cold War. But it was the 1952 competition, and his subsequent travel to the UK, which he described as the most important event in his creative development.
The Henry Moore Institute presents a small, and powerful, selection from this period; the absolute best of his works and archives. Of particular note are the sketches, which often reveal the important role of drawing in a sculptor’s process - something Errin Hussey of the Institute’s extensive Research Centre and (public) Library is keen to encourage more to see and use.
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Altdorf’s practice was always public; he rejected dealers, and ‘detested’ commercial art markets. Presuming his parents’ death, he did not return to Berlin after the war. His ‘Beacon of Youth’ (c.1960), would be the first abstract public sculpture in Wiesbaden, the German city where he lived in his later years. Here, we see images of the artist drawing directly onto the relief of the sculpture itself; the Genius, brought to meet us where we are, with his cigarette sticking out of his mouth.
‘Wächter der Gestirne (Guardian of the Stars)’ (1957) comes here in painted iron, but also ink and pastel on paper. Both share the same mechanical designs of Eduardo Paolozzi, one of many met by the artist in his travels to the UK. Only the latter shows the Illuminati-linked Eye of Providence, and stamp-like signature, which crops up here in his woodcuts.
Their titles may be spiritual, but the visions of these works are dark and heavily drawn; wonderful, hybrid works which combine the vivid colours of pre-war German Expressionism, and Modernist motifs. Alongside his work in printmaking and graphic design, Altdorf often collaborated with others in architecture. Between 1966 and 1983, he designed the interiors for a new synagogue in Wiesbaden’s Friedrichstrasse, destroyed by the Nazis in Kristallnacht, and now considered one of Germany’s greatest post-war religious buildings.
The seventies saw more stained glass works for a Christian chapel in Wambach, interior and exterior murals for a sports hall in Saulheim, and others combining techniques in sculpture and wall-painting, suggesting a wholly multidisciplinary practice, and the artist’s ability to move between - and manipulate - media.
Implicit in this range is the respect for the artist for all different forms - there is no hierarchy here, no ‘preparatory’ sketch, nor ‘finished’ sculpture. The little differences between media are what expand this small exhibition and invite us to look a little closer. In the large bodies and little heads of his etchings, we can certainly see something of Henry Moore too.
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Seventy years after that competition, the Leeds-based Institute is the first to relocate Altdorf within these British, and global, networks of post-war modernism. (To be sure, it is not his engagement with his European contemporaries that makes his work important; it is of itself, and of its sheer survival.) He was an artist at risk of falling into posthumous obscurity in Germany too; his Monument has not survived, and many more of his works were unrecognised, feared lost, or destroyed, until their discovery in a private collection after his death in 2008.
In Les Praticiennes - the last small-but-large show to fill this room - we would be lucky to find a spare paper guide. No luck here; instead, we get a hefty hardback, which reflects his own interdisciplinary practice, and an extensive (and free) events programme featuring the artist’s son, Dorian Crone, who salvaged his neglected estate. From Wiesbaden, these works deserve this second global exhibition – they still have much to say to transnational solidarities today.
Egon Altdorf is on view at the Henry Moore Institute until 26 November 2023.
The exhibition book, Into the Light: The Art of Egon Altdorf, is available from the Henry Moore Institute and online.
Monument to the Unknown Political Prisoner (1952-1953) was an International Sculpture Competition, hosted by the Tate Gallery in London, featuring Egon Altdorf, one of three prize-winners of the German prelims. More than commemorations to those who had ‘’given’ their liberty in the cause of human freedom' – as per the criteria – the works were carved with the first-hand experience of having had such liberty wrenched from them.
Born in Treptow an der Rega (now Trzebiatów, Poland) in 1922, Altdorf was raised between West Pomerania and Berlin. Later sculptures, drawings, and woodcuts were often tinged with the religious symbolism of his Catholic upbringing, and, during World War II, poetry became a particularly important outlet for the artist, as he was drafted into the army, and taken as a prisoner of war in Tunisia.
At American internment camps, Altdorf participated in an intensive programme to educate administrators for the reconstruction of post-war Germany; highlighting the overlaps between cultural and political diplomacy, the soft and hard power plays that would characterise the oncoming Cold War. But it was the 1952 competition, and his subsequent travel to the UK, which he described as the most important event in his creative development.
The Henry Moore Institute presents a small, and powerful, selection from this period; the absolute best of his works and archives. Of particular note are the sketches, which often reveal the important role of drawing in a sculptor’s process - something Errin Hussey of the Institute’s extensive Research Centre and (public) Library is keen to encourage more to see and use.
Altdorf’s practice was always public; he rejected dealers, and ‘detested’ commercial art markets. Presuming his parents’ death, he did not return to Berlin after the war. His ‘Beacon of Youth’ (c.1960), would be the first abstract public sculpture in Wiesbaden, the German city where he lived in his later years. Here, we see images of the artist drawing directly onto the relief of the sculpture itself; the Genius, brought to meet us where we are, with his cigarette sticking out of his mouth.
‘Wächter der Gestirne (Guardian of the Stars)’ (1957) comes here in painted iron, but also ink and pastel on paper. Both share the same mechanical designs of Eduardo Paolozzi, one of many met by the artist in his travels to the UK. Only the latter shows the Illuminati-linked Eye of Providence, and stamp-like signature, which crops up here in his woodcuts.
Their titles may be spiritual, but the visions of these works are dark and heavily drawn; wonderful, hybrid works which combine the vivid colours of pre-war German Expressionism, and Modernist motifs. Alongside his work in printmaking and graphic design, Altdorf often collaborated with others in architecture. Between 1966 and 1983, he designed the interiors for a new synagogue in Wiesbaden’s Friedrichstrasse, destroyed by the Nazis in Kristallnacht, and now considered one of Germany’s greatest post-war religious buildings.
The seventies saw more stained glass works for a Christian chapel in Wambach, interior and exterior murals for a sports hall in Saulheim, and others combining techniques in sculpture and wall-painting, suggesting a wholly multidisciplinary practice, and the artist’s ability to move between - and manipulate - media.
Implicit in this range is the respect for the artist for all different forms - there is no hierarchy here, no ‘preparatory’ sketch, nor ‘finished’ sculpture. The little differences between media are what expand this small exhibition and invite us to look a little closer. In the large bodies and little heads of his etchings, we can certainly see something of Henry Moore too.
Seventy years after that competition, the Leeds-based Institute is the first to relocate Altdorf within these British, and global, networks of post-war modernism. (To be sure, it is not his engagement with his European contemporaries that makes his work important; it is of itself, and of its sheer survival.) He was an artist at risk of falling into posthumous obscurity in Germany too; his Monument has not survived, and many more of his works were unrecognised, feared lost, or destroyed, until their discovery in a private collection after his death in 2008.
In Les Praticiennes - the last small-but-large show to fill this room - we would be lucky to find a spare paper guide. No luck here; instead, we get a hefty hardback, which reflects his own interdisciplinary practice, and an extensive (and free) events programme featuring the artist’s son, Dorian Crone, who salvaged his neglected estate. From Wiesbaden, these works deserve this second global exhibition – they still have much to say to transnational solidarities today.
Egon Altdorf is on view at the Henry Moore Institute until 26 November 2023.
The exhibition book, Into the Light: The Art of Egon Altdorf, is available from the Henry Moore Institute and online.
Monument to the Unknown Political Prisoner (1952-1953) was an International Sculpture Competition, hosted by the Tate Gallery in London, featuring Egon Altdorf, one of three prize-winners of the German prelims. More than commemorations to those who had ‘’given’ their liberty in the cause of human freedom' – as per the criteria – the works were carved with the first-hand experience of having had such liberty wrenched from them.
Born in Treptow an der Rega (now Trzebiatów, Poland) in 1922, Altdorf was raised between West Pomerania and Berlin. Later sculptures, drawings, and woodcuts were often tinged with the religious symbolism of his Catholic upbringing, and, during World War II, poetry became a particularly important outlet for the artist, as he was drafted into the army, and taken as a prisoner of war in Tunisia.
At American internment camps, Altdorf participated in an intensive programme to educate administrators for the reconstruction of post-war Germany; highlighting the overlaps between cultural and political diplomacy, the soft and hard power plays that would characterise the oncoming Cold War. But it was the 1952 competition, and his subsequent travel to the UK, which he described as the most important event in his creative development.
The Henry Moore Institute presents a small, and powerful, selection from this period; the absolute best of his works and archives. Of particular note are the sketches, which often reveal the important role of drawing in a sculptor’s process - something Errin Hussey of the Institute’s extensive Research Centre and (public) Library is keen to encourage more to see and use.
Altdorf’s practice was always public; he rejected dealers, and ‘detested’ commercial art markets. Presuming his parents’ death, he did not return to Berlin after the war. His ‘Beacon of Youth’ (c.1960), would be the first abstract public sculpture in Wiesbaden, the German city where he lived in his later years. Here, we see images of the artist drawing directly onto the relief of the sculpture itself; the Genius, brought to meet us where we are, with his cigarette sticking out of his mouth.
‘Wächter der Gestirne (Guardian of the Stars)’ (1957) comes here in painted iron, but also ink and pastel on paper. Both share the same mechanical designs of Eduardo Paolozzi, one of many met by the artist in his travels to the UK. Only the latter shows the Illuminati-linked Eye of Providence, and stamp-like signature, which crops up here in his woodcuts.
Their titles may be spiritual, but the visions of these works are dark and heavily drawn; wonderful, hybrid works which combine the vivid colours of pre-war German Expressionism, and Modernist motifs. Alongside his work in printmaking and graphic design, Altdorf often collaborated with others in architecture. Between 1966 and 1983, he designed the interiors for a new synagogue in Wiesbaden’s Friedrichstrasse, destroyed by the Nazis in Kristallnacht, and now considered one of Germany’s greatest post-war religious buildings.
The seventies saw more stained glass works for a Christian chapel in Wambach, interior and exterior murals for a sports hall in Saulheim, and others combining techniques in sculpture and wall-painting, suggesting a wholly multidisciplinary practice, and the artist’s ability to move between - and manipulate - media.
Implicit in this range is the respect for the artist for all different forms - there is no hierarchy here, no ‘preparatory’ sketch, nor ‘finished’ sculpture. The little differences between media are what expand this small exhibition and invite us to look a little closer. In the large bodies and little heads of his etchings, we can certainly see something of Henry Moore too.
Seventy years after that competition, the Leeds-based Institute is the first to relocate Altdorf within these British, and global, networks of post-war modernism. (To be sure, it is not his engagement with his European contemporaries that makes his work important; it is of itself, and of its sheer survival.) He was an artist at risk of falling into posthumous obscurity in Germany too; his Monument has not survived, and many more of his works were unrecognised, feared lost, or destroyed, until their discovery in a private collection after his death in 2008.
In Les Praticiennes - the last small-but-large show to fill this room - we would be lucky to find a spare paper guide. No luck here; instead, we get a hefty hardback, which reflects his own interdisciplinary practice, and an extensive (and free) events programme featuring the artist’s son, Dorian Crone, who salvaged his neglected estate. From Wiesbaden, these works deserve this second global exhibition – they still have much to say to transnational solidarities today.
Egon Altdorf is on view at the Henry Moore Institute until 26 November 2023.
The exhibition book, Into the Light: The Art of Egon Altdorf, is available from the Henry Moore Institute and online.
Monument to the Unknown Political Prisoner (1952-1953) was an International Sculpture Competition, hosted by the Tate Gallery in London, featuring Egon Altdorf, one of three prize-winners of the German prelims. More than commemorations to those who had ‘’given’ their liberty in the cause of human freedom' – as per the criteria – the works were carved with the first-hand experience of having had such liberty wrenched from them.
Born in Treptow an der Rega (now Trzebiatów, Poland) in 1922, Altdorf was raised between West Pomerania and Berlin. Later sculptures, drawings, and woodcuts were often tinged with the religious symbolism of his Catholic upbringing, and, during World War II, poetry became a particularly important outlet for the artist, as he was drafted into the army, and taken as a prisoner of war in Tunisia.
At American internment camps, Altdorf participated in an intensive programme to educate administrators for the reconstruction of post-war Germany; highlighting the overlaps between cultural and political diplomacy, the soft and hard power plays that would characterise the oncoming Cold War. But it was the 1952 competition, and his subsequent travel to the UK, which he described as the most important event in his creative development.
The Henry Moore Institute presents a small, and powerful, selection from this period; the absolute best of his works and archives. Of particular note are the sketches, which often reveal the important role of drawing in a sculptor’s process - something Errin Hussey of the Institute’s extensive Research Centre and (public) Library is keen to encourage more to see and use.
Altdorf’s practice was always public; he rejected dealers, and ‘detested’ commercial art markets. Presuming his parents’ death, he did not return to Berlin after the war. His ‘Beacon of Youth’ (c.1960), would be the first abstract public sculpture in Wiesbaden, the German city where he lived in his later years. Here, we see images of the artist drawing directly onto the relief of the sculpture itself; the Genius, brought to meet us where we are, with his cigarette sticking out of his mouth.
‘Wächter der Gestirne (Guardian of the Stars)’ (1957) comes here in painted iron, but also ink and pastel on paper. Both share the same mechanical designs of Eduardo Paolozzi, one of many met by the artist in his travels to the UK. Only the latter shows the Illuminati-linked Eye of Providence, and stamp-like signature, which crops up here in his woodcuts.
Their titles may be spiritual, but the visions of these works are dark and heavily drawn; wonderful, hybrid works which combine the vivid colours of pre-war German Expressionism, and Modernist motifs. Alongside his work in printmaking and graphic design, Altdorf often collaborated with others in architecture. Between 1966 and 1983, he designed the interiors for a new synagogue in Wiesbaden’s Friedrichstrasse, destroyed by the Nazis in Kristallnacht, and now considered one of Germany’s greatest post-war religious buildings.
The seventies saw more stained glass works for a Christian chapel in Wambach, interior and exterior murals for a sports hall in Saulheim, and others combining techniques in sculpture and wall-painting, suggesting a wholly multidisciplinary practice, and the artist’s ability to move between - and manipulate - media.
Implicit in this range is the respect for the artist for all different forms - there is no hierarchy here, no ‘preparatory’ sketch, nor ‘finished’ sculpture. The little differences between media are what expand this small exhibition and invite us to look a little closer. In the large bodies and little heads of his etchings, we can certainly see something of Henry Moore too.
Seventy years after that competition, the Leeds-based Institute is the first to relocate Altdorf within these British, and global, networks of post-war modernism. (To be sure, it is not his engagement with his European contemporaries that makes his work important; it is of itself, and of its sheer survival.) He was an artist at risk of falling into posthumous obscurity in Germany too; his Monument has not survived, and many more of his works were unrecognised, feared lost, or destroyed, until their discovery in a private collection after his death in 2008.
In Les Praticiennes - the last small-but-large show to fill this room - we would be lucky to find a spare paper guide. No luck here; instead, we get a hefty hardback, which reflects his own interdisciplinary practice, and an extensive (and free) events programme featuring the artist’s son, Dorian Crone, who salvaged his neglected estate. From Wiesbaden, these works deserve this second global exhibition – they still have much to say to transnational solidarities today.
Egon Altdorf is on view at the Henry Moore Institute until 26 November 2023.
The exhibition book, Into the Light: The Art of Egon Altdorf, is available from the Henry Moore Institute and online.
Monument to the Unknown Political Prisoner (1952-1953) was an International Sculpture Competition, hosted by the Tate Gallery in London, featuring Egon Altdorf, one of three prize-winners of the German prelims. More than commemorations to those who had ‘’given’ their liberty in the cause of human freedom' – as per the criteria – the works were carved with the first-hand experience of having had such liberty wrenched from them.
Born in Treptow an der Rega (now Trzebiatów, Poland) in 1922, Altdorf was raised between West Pomerania and Berlin. Later sculptures, drawings, and woodcuts were often tinged with the religious symbolism of his Catholic upbringing, and, during World War II, poetry became a particularly important outlet for the artist, as he was drafted into the army, and taken as a prisoner of war in Tunisia.
At American internment camps, Altdorf participated in an intensive programme to educate administrators for the reconstruction of post-war Germany; highlighting the overlaps between cultural and political diplomacy, the soft and hard power plays that would characterise the oncoming Cold War. But it was the 1952 competition, and his subsequent travel to the UK, which he described as the most important event in his creative development.
The Henry Moore Institute presents a small, and powerful, selection from this period; the absolute best of his works and archives. Of particular note are the sketches, which often reveal the important role of drawing in a sculptor’s process - something Errin Hussey of the Institute’s extensive Research Centre and (public) Library is keen to encourage more to see and use.
Altdorf’s practice was always public; he rejected dealers, and ‘detested’ commercial art markets. Presuming his parents’ death, he did not return to Berlin after the war. His ‘Beacon of Youth’ (c.1960), would be the first abstract public sculpture in Wiesbaden, the German city where he lived in his later years. Here, we see images of the artist drawing directly onto the relief of the sculpture itself; the Genius, brought to meet us where we are, with his cigarette sticking out of his mouth.
‘Wächter der Gestirne (Guardian of the Stars)’ (1957) comes here in painted iron, but also ink and pastel on paper. Both share the same mechanical designs of Eduardo Paolozzi, one of many met by the artist in his travels to the UK. Only the latter shows the Illuminati-linked Eye of Providence, and stamp-like signature, which crops up here in his woodcuts.
Their titles may be spiritual, but the visions of these works are dark and heavily drawn; wonderful, hybrid works which combine the vivid colours of pre-war German Expressionism, and Modernist motifs. Alongside his work in printmaking and graphic design, Altdorf often collaborated with others in architecture. Between 1966 and 1983, he designed the interiors for a new synagogue in Wiesbaden’s Friedrichstrasse, destroyed by the Nazis in Kristallnacht, and now considered one of Germany’s greatest post-war religious buildings.
The seventies saw more stained glass works for a Christian chapel in Wambach, interior and exterior murals for a sports hall in Saulheim, and others combining techniques in sculpture and wall-painting, suggesting a wholly multidisciplinary practice, and the artist’s ability to move between - and manipulate - media.
Implicit in this range is the respect for the artist for all different forms - there is no hierarchy here, no ‘preparatory’ sketch, nor ‘finished’ sculpture. The little differences between media are what expand this small exhibition and invite us to look a little closer. In the large bodies and little heads of his etchings, we can certainly see something of Henry Moore too.
Seventy years after that competition, the Leeds-based Institute is the first to relocate Altdorf within these British, and global, networks of post-war modernism. (To be sure, it is not his engagement with his European contemporaries that makes his work important; it is of itself, and of its sheer survival.) He was an artist at risk of falling into posthumous obscurity in Germany too; his Monument has not survived, and many more of his works were unrecognised, feared lost, or destroyed, until their discovery in a private collection after his death in 2008.
In Les Praticiennes - the last small-but-large show to fill this room - we would be lucky to find a spare paper guide. No luck here; instead, we get a hefty hardback, which reflects his own interdisciplinary practice, and an extensive (and free) events programme featuring the artist’s son, Dorian Crone, who salvaged his neglected estate. From Wiesbaden, these works deserve this second global exhibition – they still have much to say to transnational solidarities today.
Egon Altdorf is on view at the Henry Moore Institute until 26 November 2023.
The exhibition book, Into the Light: The Art of Egon Altdorf, is available from the Henry Moore Institute and online.
Monument to the Unknown Political Prisoner (1952-1953) was an International Sculpture Competition, hosted by the Tate Gallery in London, featuring Egon Altdorf, one of three prize-winners of the German prelims. More than commemorations to those who had ‘’given’ their liberty in the cause of human freedom' – as per the criteria – the works were carved with the first-hand experience of having had such liberty wrenched from them.
Born in Treptow an der Rega (now Trzebiatów, Poland) in 1922, Altdorf was raised between West Pomerania and Berlin. Later sculptures, drawings, and woodcuts were often tinged with the religious symbolism of his Catholic upbringing, and, during World War II, poetry became a particularly important outlet for the artist, as he was drafted into the army, and taken as a prisoner of war in Tunisia.
At American internment camps, Altdorf participated in an intensive programme to educate administrators for the reconstruction of post-war Germany; highlighting the overlaps between cultural and political diplomacy, the soft and hard power plays that would characterise the oncoming Cold War. But it was the 1952 competition, and his subsequent travel to the UK, which he described as the most important event in his creative development.
The Henry Moore Institute presents a small, and powerful, selection from this period; the absolute best of his works and archives. Of particular note are the sketches, which often reveal the important role of drawing in a sculptor’s process - something Errin Hussey of the Institute’s extensive Research Centre and (public) Library is keen to encourage more to see and use.
Altdorf’s practice was always public; he rejected dealers, and ‘detested’ commercial art markets. Presuming his parents’ death, he did not return to Berlin after the war. His ‘Beacon of Youth’ (c.1960), would be the first abstract public sculpture in Wiesbaden, the German city where he lived in his later years. Here, we see images of the artist drawing directly onto the relief of the sculpture itself; the Genius, brought to meet us where we are, with his cigarette sticking out of his mouth.
‘Wächter der Gestirne (Guardian of the Stars)’ (1957) comes here in painted iron, but also ink and pastel on paper. Both share the same mechanical designs of Eduardo Paolozzi, one of many met by the artist in his travels to the UK. Only the latter shows the Illuminati-linked Eye of Providence, and stamp-like signature, which crops up here in his woodcuts.
Their titles may be spiritual, but the visions of these works are dark and heavily drawn; wonderful, hybrid works which combine the vivid colours of pre-war German Expressionism, and Modernist motifs. Alongside his work in printmaking and graphic design, Altdorf often collaborated with others in architecture. Between 1966 and 1983, he designed the interiors for a new synagogue in Wiesbaden’s Friedrichstrasse, destroyed by the Nazis in Kristallnacht, and now considered one of Germany’s greatest post-war religious buildings.
The seventies saw more stained glass works for a Christian chapel in Wambach, interior and exterior murals for a sports hall in Saulheim, and others combining techniques in sculpture and wall-painting, suggesting a wholly multidisciplinary practice, and the artist’s ability to move between - and manipulate - media.
Implicit in this range is the respect for the artist for all different forms - there is no hierarchy here, no ‘preparatory’ sketch, nor ‘finished’ sculpture. The little differences between media are what expand this small exhibition and invite us to look a little closer. In the large bodies and little heads of his etchings, we can certainly see something of Henry Moore too.
Seventy years after that competition, the Leeds-based Institute is the first to relocate Altdorf within these British, and global, networks of post-war modernism. (To be sure, it is not his engagement with his European contemporaries that makes his work important; it is of itself, and of its sheer survival.) He was an artist at risk of falling into posthumous obscurity in Germany too; his Monument has not survived, and many more of his works were unrecognised, feared lost, or destroyed, until their discovery in a private collection after his death in 2008.
In Les Praticiennes - the last small-but-large show to fill this room - we would be lucky to find a spare paper guide. No luck here; instead, we get a hefty hardback, which reflects his own interdisciplinary practice, and an extensive (and free) events programme featuring the artist’s son, Dorian Crone, who salvaged his neglected estate. From Wiesbaden, these works deserve this second global exhibition – they still have much to say to transnational solidarities today.
Egon Altdorf is on view at the Henry Moore Institute until 26 November 2023.
The exhibition book, Into the Light: The Art of Egon Altdorf, is available from the Henry Moore Institute and online.
Monument to the Unknown Political Prisoner (1952-1953) was an International Sculpture Competition, hosted by the Tate Gallery in London, featuring Egon Altdorf, one of three prize-winners of the German prelims. More than commemorations to those who had ‘’given’ their liberty in the cause of human freedom' – as per the criteria – the works were carved with the first-hand experience of having had such liberty wrenched from them.
Born in Treptow an der Rega (now Trzebiatów, Poland) in 1922, Altdorf was raised between West Pomerania and Berlin. Later sculptures, drawings, and woodcuts were often tinged with the religious symbolism of his Catholic upbringing, and, during World War II, poetry became a particularly important outlet for the artist, as he was drafted into the army, and taken as a prisoner of war in Tunisia.
At American internment camps, Altdorf participated in an intensive programme to educate administrators for the reconstruction of post-war Germany; highlighting the overlaps between cultural and political diplomacy, the soft and hard power plays that would characterise the oncoming Cold War. But it was the 1952 competition, and his subsequent travel to the UK, which he described as the most important event in his creative development.
The Henry Moore Institute presents a small, and powerful, selection from this period; the absolute best of his works and archives. Of particular note are the sketches, which often reveal the important role of drawing in a sculptor’s process - something Errin Hussey of the Institute’s extensive Research Centre and (public) Library is keen to encourage more to see and use.
Altdorf’s practice was always public; he rejected dealers, and ‘detested’ commercial art markets. Presuming his parents’ death, he did not return to Berlin after the war. His ‘Beacon of Youth’ (c.1960), would be the first abstract public sculpture in Wiesbaden, the German city where he lived in his later years. Here, we see images of the artist drawing directly onto the relief of the sculpture itself; the Genius, brought to meet us where we are, with his cigarette sticking out of his mouth.
‘Wächter der Gestirne (Guardian of the Stars)’ (1957) comes here in painted iron, but also ink and pastel on paper. Both share the same mechanical designs of Eduardo Paolozzi, one of many met by the artist in his travels to the UK. Only the latter shows the Illuminati-linked Eye of Providence, and stamp-like signature, which crops up here in his woodcuts.
Their titles may be spiritual, but the visions of these works are dark and heavily drawn; wonderful, hybrid works which combine the vivid colours of pre-war German Expressionism, and Modernist motifs. Alongside his work in printmaking and graphic design, Altdorf often collaborated with others in architecture. Between 1966 and 1983, he designed the interiors for a new synagogue in Wiesbaden’s Friedrichstrasse, destroyed by the Nazis in Kristallnacht, and now considered one of Germany’s greatest post-war religious buildings.
The seventies saw more stained glass works for a Christian chapel in Wambach, interior and exterior murals for a sports hall in Saulheim, and others combining techniques in sculpture and wall-painting, suggesting a wholly multidisciplinary practice, and the artist’s ability to move between - and manipulate - media.
Implicit in this range is the respect for the artist for all different forms - there is no hierarchy here, no ‘preparatory’ sketch, nor ‘finished’ sculpture. The little differences between media are what expand this small exhibition and invite us to look a little closer. In the large bodies and little heads of his etchings, we can certainly see something of Henry Moore too.
Seventy years after that competition, the Leeds-based Institute is the first to relocate Altdorf within these British, and global, networks of post-war modernism. (To be sure, it is not his engagement with his European contemporaries that makes his work important; it is of itself, and of its sheer survival.) He was an artist at risk of falling into posthumous obscurity in Germany too; his Monument has not survived, and many more of his works were unrecognised, feared lost, or destroyed, until their discovery in a private collection after his death in 2008.
In Les Praticiennes - the last small-but-large show to fill this room - we would be lucky to find a spare paper guide. No luck here; instead, we get a hefty hardback, which reflects his own interdisciplinary practice, and an extensive (and free) events programme featuring the artist’s son, Dorian Crone, who salvaged his neglected estate. From Wiesbaden, these works deserve this second global exhibition – they still have much to say to transnational solidarities today.
Egon Altdorf is on view at the Henry Moore Institute until 26 November 2023.
The exhibition book, Into the Light: The Art of Egon Altdorf, is available from the Henry Moore Institute and online.
Monument to the Unknown Political Prisoner (1952-1953) was an International Sculpture Competition, hosted by the Tate Gallery in London, featuring Egon Altdorf, one of three prize-winners of the German prelims. More than commemorations to those who had ‘’given’ their liberty in the cause of human freedom' – as per the criteria – the works were carved with the first-hand experience of having had such liberty wrenched from them.
Born in Treptow an der Rega (now Trzebiatów, Poland) in 1922, Altdorf was raised between West Pomerania and Berlin. Later sculptures, drawings, and woodcuts were often tinged with the religious symbolism of his Catholic upbringing, and, during World War II, poetry became a particularly important outlet for the artist, as he was drafted into the army, and taken as a prisoner of war in Tunisia.
At American internment camps, Altdorf participated in an intensive programme to educate administrators for the reconstruction of post-war Germany; highlighting the overlaps between cultural and political diplomacy, the soft and hard power plays that would characterise the oncoming Cold War. But it was the 1952 competition, and his subsequent travel to the UK, which he described as the most important event in his creative development.
The Henry Moore Institute presents a small, and powerful, selection from this period; the absolute best of his works and archives. Of particular note are the sketches, which often reveal the important role of drawing in a sculptor’s process - something Errin Hussey of the Institute’s extensive Research Centre and (public) Library is keen to encourage more to see and use.
Altdorf’s practice was always public; he rejected dealers, and ‘detested’ commercial art markets. Presuming his parents’ death, he did not return to Berlin after the war. His ‘Beacon of Youth’ (c.1960), would be the first abstract public sculpture in Wiesbaden, the German city where he lived in his later years. Here, we see images of the artist drawing directly onto the relief of the sculpture itself; the Genius, brought to meet us where we are, with his cigarette sticking out of his mouth.
‘Wächter der Gestirne (Guardian of the Stars)’ (1957) comes here in painted iron, but also ink and pastel on paper. Both share the same mechanical designs of Eduardo Paolozzi, one of many met by the artist in his travels to the UK. Only the latter shows the Illuminati-linked Eye of Providence, and stamp-like signature, which crops up here in his woodcuts.
Their titles may be spiritual, but the visions of these works are dark and heavily drawn; wonderful, hybrid works which combine the vivid colours of pre-war German Expressionism, and Modernist motifs. Alongside his work in printmaking and graphic design, Altdorf often collaborated with others in architecture. Between 1966 and 1983, he designed the interiors for a new synagogue in Wiesbaden’s Friedrichstrasse, destroyed by the Nazis in Kristallnacht, and now considered one of Germany’s greatest post-war religious buildings.
The seventies saw more stained glass works for a Christian chapel in Wambach, interior and exterior murals for a sports hall in Saulheim, and others combining techniques in sculpture and wall-painting, suggesting a wholly multidisciplinary practice, and the artist’s ability to move between - and manipulate - media.
Implicit in this range is the respect for the artist for all different forms - there is no hierarchy here, no ‘preparatory’ sketch, nor ‘finished’ sculpture. The little differences between media are what expand this small exhibition and invite us to look a little closer. In the large bodies and little heads of his etchings, we can certainly see something of Henry Moore too.
Seventy years after that competition, the Leeds-based Institute is the first to relocate Altdorf within these British, and global, networks of post-war modernism. (To be sure, it is not his engagement with his European contemporaries that makes his work important; it is of itself, and of its sheer survival.) He was an artist at risk of falling into posthumous obscurity in Germany too; his Monument has not survived, and many more of his works were unrecognised, feared lost, or destroyed, until their discovery in a private collection after his death in 2008.
In Les Praticiennes - the last small-but-large show to fill this room - we would be lucky to find a spare paper guide. No luck here; instead, we get a hefty hardback, which reflects his own interdisciplinary practice, and an extensive (and free) events programme featuring the artist’s son, Dorian Crone, who salvaged his neglected estate. From Wiesbaden, these works deserve this second global exhibition – they still have much to say to transnational solidarities today.
Egon Altdorf is on view at the Henry Moore Institute until 26 November 2023.
The exhibition book, Into the Light: The Art of Egon Altdorf, is available from the Henry Moore Institute and online.
Monument to the Unknown Political Prisoner (1952-1953) was an International Sculpture Competition, hosted by the Tate Gallery in London, featuring Egon Altdorf, one of three prize-winners of the German prelims. More than commemorations to those who had ‘’given’ their liberty in the cause of human freedom' – as per the criteria – the works were carved with the first-hand experience of having had such liberty wrenched from them.
Born in Treptow an der Rega (now Trzebiatów, Poland) in 1922, Altdorf was raised between West Pomerania and Berlin. Later sculptures, drawings, and woodcuts were often tinged with the religious symbolism of his Catholic upbringing, and, during World War II, poetry became a particularly important outlet for the artist, as he was drafted into the army, and taken as a prisoner of war in Tunisia.
At American internment camps, Altdorf participated in an intensive programme to educate administrators for the reconstruction of post-war Germany; highlighting the overlaps between cultural and political diplomacy, the soft and hard power plays that would characterise the oncoming Cold War. But it was the 1952 competition, and his subsequent travel to the UK, which he described as the most important event in his creative development.
The Henry Moore Institute presents a small, and powerful, selection from this period; the absolute best of his works and archives. Of particular note are the sketches, which often reveal the important role of drawing in a sculptor’s process - something Errin Hussey of the Institute’s extensive Research Centre and (public) Library is keen to encourage more to see and use.
Altdorf’s practice was always public; he rejected dealers, and ‘detested’ commercial art markets. Presuming his parents’ death, he did not return to Berlin after the war. His ‘Beacon of Youth’ (c.1960), would be the first abstract public sculpture in Wiesbaden, the German city where he lived in his later years. Here, we see images of the artist drawing directly onto the relief of the sculpture itself; the Genius, brought to meet us where we are, with his cigarette sticking out of his mouth.
‘Wächter der Gestirne (Guardian of the Stars)’ (1957) comes here in painted iron, but also ink and pastel on paper. Both share the same mechanical designs of Eduardo Paolozzi, one of many met by the artist in his travels to the UK. Only the latter shows the Illuminati-linked Eye of Providence, and stamp-like signature, which crops up here in his woodcuts.
Their titles may be spiritual, but the visions of these works are dark and heavily drawn; wonderful, hybrid works which combine the vivid colours of pre-war German Expressionism, and Modernist motifs. Alongside his work in printmaking and graphic design, Altdorf often collaborated with others in architecture. Between 1966 and 1983, he designed the interiors for a new synagogue in Wiesbaden’s Friedrichstrasse, destroyed by the Nazis in Kristallnacht, and now considered one of Germany’s greatest post-war religious buildings.
The seventies saw more stained glass works for a Christian chapel in Wambach, interior and exterior murals for a sports hall in Saulheim, and others combining techniques in sculpture and wall-painting, suggesting a wholly multidisciplinary practice, and the artist’s ability to move between - and manipulate - media.
Implicit in this range is the respect for the artist for all different forms - there is no hierarchy here, no ‘preparatory’ sketch, nor ‘finished’ sculpture. The little differences between media are what expand this small exhibition and invite us to look a little closer. In the large bodies and little heads of his etchings, we can certainly see something of Henry Moore too.
Seventy years after that competition, the Leeds-based Institute is the first to relocate Altdorf within these British, and global, networks of post-war modernism. (To be sure, it is not his engagement with his European contemporaries that makes his work important; it is of itself, and of its sheer survival.) He was an artist at risk of falling into posthumous obscurity in Germany too; his Monument has not survived, and many more of his works were unrecognised, feared lost, or destroyed, until their discovery in a private collection after his death in 2008.
In Les Praticiennes - the last small-but-large show to fill this room - we would be lucky to find a spare paper guide. No luck here; instead, we get a hefty hardback, which reflects his own interdisciplinary practice, and an extensive (and free) events programme featuring the artist’s son, Dorian Crone, who salvaged his neglected estate. From Wiesbaden, these works deserve this second global exhibition – they still have much to say to transnational solidarities today.
Egon Altdorf is on view at the Henry Moore Institute until 26 November 2023.
The exhibition book, Into the Light: The Art of Egon Altdorf, is available from the Henry Moore Institute and online.
Monument to the Unknown Political Prisoner (1952-1953) was an International Sculpture Competition, hosted by the Tate Gallery in London, featuring Egon Altdorf, one of three prize-winners of the German prelims. More than commemorations to those who had ‘’given’ their liberty in the cause of human freedom' – as per the criteria – the works were carved with the first-hand experience of having had such liberty wrenched from them.
Born in Treptow an der Rega (now Trzebiatów, Poland) in 1922, Altdorf was raised between West Pomerania and Berlin. Later sculptures, drawings, and woodcuts were often tinged with the religious symbolism of his Catholic upbringing, and, during World War II, poetry became a particularly important outlet for the artist, as he was drafted into the army, and taken as a prisoner of war in Tunisia.
At American internment camps, Altdorf participated in an intensive programme to educate administrators for the reconstruction of post-war Germany; highlighting the overlaps between cultural and political diplomacy, the soft and hard power plays that would characterise the oncoming Cold War. But it was the 1952 competition, and his subsequent travel to the UK, which he described as the most important event in his creative development.
The Henry Moore Institute presents a small, and powerful, selection from this period; the absolute best of his works and archives. Of particular note are the sketches, which often reveal the important role of drawing in a sculptor’s process - something Errin Hussey of the Institute’s extensive Research Centre and (public) Library is keen to encourage more to see and use.
Altdorf’s practice was always public; he rejected dealers, and ‘detested’ commercial art markets. Presuming his parents’ death, he did not return to Berlin after the war. His ‘Beacon of Youth’ (c.1960), would be the first abstract public sculpture in Wiesbaden, the German city where he lived in his later years. Here, we see images of the artist drawing directly onto the relief of the sculpture itself; the Genius, brought to meet us where we are, with his cigarette sticking out of his mouth.
‘Wächter der Gestirne (Guardian of the Stars)’ (1957) comes here in painted iron, but also ink and pastel on paper. Both share the same mechanical designs of Eduardo Paolozzi, one of many met by the artist in his travels to the UK. Only the latter shows the Illuminati-linked Eye of Providence, and stamp-like signature, which crops up here in his woodcuts.
Their titles may be spiritual, but the visions of these works are dark and heavily drawn; wonderful, hybrid works which combine the vivid colours of pre-war German Expressionism, and Modernist motifs. Alongside his work in printmaking and graphic design, Altdorf often collaborated with others in architecture. Between 1966 and 1983, he designed the interiors for a new synagogue in Wiesbaden’s Friedrichstrasse, destroyed by the Nazis in Kristallnacht, and now considered one of Germany’s greatest post-war religious buildings.
The seventies saw more stained glass works for a Christian chapel in Wambach, interior and exterior murals for a sports hall in Saulheim, and others combining techniques in sculpture and wall-painting, suggesting a wholly multidisciplinary practice, and the artist’s ability to move between - and manipulate - media.
Implicit in this range is the respect for the artist for all different forms - there is no hierarchy here, no ‘preparatory’ sketch, nor ‘finished’ sculpture. The little differences between media are what expand this small exhibition and invite us to look a little closer. In the large bodies and little heads of his etchings, we can certainly see something of Henry Moore too.
Seventy years after that competition, the Leeds-based Institute is the first to relocate Altdorf within these British, and global, networks of post-war modernism. (To be sure, it is not his engagement with his European contemporaries that makes his work important; it is of itself, and of its sheer survival.) He was an artist at risk of falling into posthumous obscurity in Germany too; his Monument has not survived, and many more of his works were unrecognised, feared lost, or destroyed, until their discovery in a private collection after his death in 2008.
In Les Praticiennes - the last small-but-large show to fill this room - we would be lucky to find a spare paper guide. No luck here; instead, we get a hefty hardback, which reflects his own interdisciplinary practice, and an extensive (and free) events programme featuring the artist’s son, Dorian Crone, who salvaged his neglected estate. From Wiesbaden, these works deserve this second global exhibition – they still have much to say to transnational solidarities today.
Egon Altdorf is on view at the Henry Moore Institute until 26 November 2023.
The exhibition book, Into the Light: The Art of Egon Altdorf, is available from the Henry Moore Institute and online.
Monument to the Unknown Political Prisoner (1952-1953) was an International Sculpture Competition, hosted by the Tate Gallery in London, featuring Egon Altdorf, one of three prize-winners of the German prelims. More than commemorations to those who had ‘’given’ their liberty in the cause of human freedom' – as per the criteria – the works were carved with the first-hand experience of having had such liberty wrenched from them.
Born in Treptow an der Rega (now Trzebiatów, Poland) in 1922, Altdorf was raised between West Pomerania and Berlin. Later sculptures, drawings, and woodcuts were often tinged with the religious symbolism of his Catholic upbringing, and, during World War II, poetry became a particularly important outlet for the artist, as he was drafted into the army, and taken as a prisoner of war in Tunisia.
At American internment camps, Altdorf participated in an intensive programme to educate administrators for the reconstruction of post-war Germany; highlighting the overlaps between cultural and political diplomacy, the soft and hard power plays that would characterise the oncoming Cold War. But it was the 1952 competition, and his subsequent travel to the UK, which he described as the most important event in his creative development.
The Henry Moore Institute presents a small, and powerful, selection from this period; the absolute best of his works and archives. Of particular note are the sketches, which often reveal the important role of drawing in a sculptor’s process - something Errin Hussey of the Institute’s extensive Research Centre and (public) Library is keen to encourage more to see and use.
Altdorf’s practice was always public; he rejected dealers, and ‘detested’ commercial art markets. Presuming his parents’ death, he did not return to Berlin after the war. His ‘Beacon of Youth’ (c.1960), would be the first abstract public sculpture in Wiesbaden, the German city where he lived in his later years. Here, we see images of the artist drawing directly onto the relief of the sculpture itself; the Genius, brought to meet us where we are, with his cigarette sticking out of his mouth.
‘Wächter der Gestirne (Guardian of the Stars)’ (1957) comes here in painted iron, but also ink and pastel on paper. Both share the same mechanical designs of Eduardo Paolozzi, one of many met by the artist in his travels to the UK. Only the latter shows the Illuminati-linked Eye of Providence, and stamp-like signature, which crops up here in his woodcuts.
Their titles may be spiritual, but the visions of these works are dark and heavily drawn; wonderful, hybrid works which combine the vivid colours of pre-war German Expressionism, and Modernist motifs. Alongside his work in printmaking and graphic design, Altdorf often collaborated with others in architecture. Between 1966 and 1983, he designed the interiors for a new synagogue in Wiesbaden’s Friedrichstrasse, destroyed by the Nazis in Kristallnacht, and now considered one of Germany’s greatest post-war religious buildings.
The seventies saw more stained glass works for a Christian chapel in Wambach, interior and exterior murals for a sports hall in Saulheim, and others combining techniques in sculpture and wall-painting, suggesting a wholly multidisciplinary practice, and the artist’s ability to move between - and manipulate - media.
Implicit in this range is the respect for the artist for all different forms - there is no hierarchy here, no ‘preparatory’ sketch, nor ‘finished’ sculpture. The little differences between media are what expand this small exhibition and invite us to look a little closer. In the large bodies and little heads of his etchings, we can certainly see something of Henry Moore too.
Seventy years after that competition, the Leeds-based Institute is the first to relocate Altdorf within these British, and global, networks of post-war modernism. (To be sure, it is not his engagement with his European contemporaries that makes his work important; it is of itself, and of its sheer survival.) He was an artist at risk of falling into posthumous obscurity in Germany too; his Monument has not survived, and many more of his works were unrecognised, feared lost, or destroyed, until their discovery in a private collection after his death in 2008.
In Les Praticiennes - the last small-but-large show to fill this room - we would be lucky to find a spare paper guide. No luck here; instead, we get a hefty hardback, which reflects his own interdisciplinary practice, and an extensive (and free) events programme featuring the artist’s son, Dorian Crone, who salvaged his neglected estate. From Wiesbaden, these works deserve this second global exhibition – they still have much to say to transnational solidarities today.
Egon Altdorf is on view at the Henry Moore Institute until 26 November 2023.
The exhibition book, Into the Light: The Art of Egon Altdorf, is available from the Henry Moore Institute and online.
