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Exhibitions/ World War I and the Visual Arts/ Exhibition Galleries

World War I and the Visual Arts

At The Met Fifth Avenue
July 31, 2017–January 7, 2018

Exhibition Galleries

Gallery entrance to 'World War I and the Visual Arts' exhibition

When World War I began in the summer of 1914, few could envision the extent of the devastation that would result. This exhibition explores the myriad and often contradictory ways in which artists responded to the first modern war. Drawn primarily from The Met collection, with select loans from private collections, the presentation moves chronologically—from the initial mobilization to the armistice in November 1918 and the decade that followed—showing how the war influenced subjects, techniques, materials, and formal decisions, as well as artists' basic approaches to their practices and positions in a moment of profound crisis.

Like many of their countrymen, a number of artists initially welcomed war—whether due to patriotic or nationalist sentiments, a desire for an adventure (which they assumed would be brief), or a belief that the conflict would lead to a more peaceful, spiritual, and anti-materialist era liberated from restrictive and outdated orders. Some served as soldiers, medics, or war artists, and several suffered severe injury or died. As the reality of the war became apparent, key figures changed their positions to express fierce condemnation, anguished regret, or pacifist sentiments.

Artists searched for an appropriate language to express their experiences. Some drew from avant-garde experimentation begun before the war, while others embraced a more traditional, figurative aesthetic, and still others incorporated elements from both approaches.

Propaganda in the form of posters, periodicals, postcards, illustrated books, and other printed pieces played an important role in garnering support for the war effort and determining how each side viewed the other. Later, some artists and publishers employed similar methods and materials to launch savage critiques against the war and the people, organizations, and nations they deemed responsible for it. Others turned inward, offering mournful reflections on the damage sustained by both sides and a hope that "the war to end all wars" would be the last of its kind.

On June 28, 1914, Archduke Franz Ferdinand, the heir to the Austro-Hungarian empire, was assassinated with his wife in Sarajevo by Gavrilo Princip, a Bosnian Serb and self-described South Slav nationalist. Due to a complex system of alliances, most of Europe (whose rulers were connected through blood or marriage) was at war by the beginning of August. The initial conflict between Austria-Hungary and Serbia soon escalated to include Germany, Russia, France, and—after Germany invaded the neutral country of Belgium—Britain, among other nations. By October, the Ottoman Empire had aligned with Germany and Austria-Hungary (the Central Powers) against Russia, Britain, Japan, and France (the Allies).

Artists, many of whom served in the war, reacted in a variety of ways. Several made self-portraits in uniform or depicted fellow soldiers. Others presented the mobilization in nationalistic and even holy terms. A related theme, particularly prominent in work sponsored by government agencies, is advanced military technology as a show of national power. Other images, however, show the disasters of war, such as refugees driven from their homes, murdered civilians, and mass devastation. Some artists from nations not yet involved in the conflict, meanwhile, created work expressing support for the Allies or condemning the German army's attacks on Belgian and French citizens and towns, including the destruction of cultural sites such as the Louvain library in Belgium and France's Reims Cathedral.

By fall 1914, the devastation wrought by World War I had prompted Pope Benedict XV to refer to it as "the suicide of Europe." Still, the war intensified over the next three years, drawing in more countries, including first Italy and then the United States. Beginning in late 1917, however, post-revolutionary Russia (now led by the Soviet regime) negotiated an end to combat on the Eastern Front and formally withdrew from the war in early 1918. Exhausted and disillusioned, a number of military divisions mutinied, with soldiers refusing to fight or deserting their units.

During this period, armies on both sides employed not only traditional methods and equipment, including bayonets, column formations, cavalry, and animals for transport and communication, but also advanced technologies, such as poison gas, submarines, airplanes, machine guns, and tanks. These new and powerful forms of military technology caused previously unimaginable types of injuries and numbers of casualties. Artists captured this modern war experience by depicting both older systems and novel machinery and accessories, including gas masks. Like millions of other soldiers, some artists died or suffered severe physical and mental injuries that led to hospitalization and release from service. The trauma the survivors witnessed and experienced often had a grave impact on their work, prompting many to become outspoken critics of nationalism and war.

An armistice was declared on November 11, 1918, and World War I officially ended on June 28, 1919, with the signing of the Treaty of Versailles. More than nine million soldiers had been killed in combat and another five million died of starvation, illness, and war-related complications, while over twenty million were injured. Millions of civilians also suffered and died as a result of the conflict.

Artists responded to the carnage and destruction in a variety of ways. While some proposed rebuilding, others reflected on the trauma. Ernst Barlach and Käthe Kollwitz created elegiac works dealing with the toll on families and communities. By contrast, the work of Max Beckmann, Otto Dix, and George Grosz (all of whom served in the military) expresses a profound rage at the societies, institutions, and individuals who promoted and profited from the war.

Because they could be distributed more widely than unique works, prints were especially effective at influencing public opinion. By using papers of different quality and cost, publishers could make prints available to a larger audience; the images could also be reproduced in publications and as posters. Artists developed portfolios that commemorated the conflict, several of which were released on the 10th anniversary of the war's beginning or end—a demonstration of its enduring effects.

This gallery offers a reflection on the relationship between arms and art in World War I. The helmets belong to a set of prototype headgear and body armor for U.S. troops designed at The Metropolitan Museum of Art by the first curator of arms and armor, Bashford Dean, after the United States entered the war on April 6, 1917. Of 33 Met staff members who served in the armed forces between 1917 and 1918, two lost their lives, inspiring a commemorative plaque near the Museum entrance in the Great Hall. Among the works on paper are sketches John Singer Sargent made on the Western Front, prints by the artist and solider Kerr Eby, illustrated books that express France's enthusiasm for America's entry into the war, and a "living photograph" meant to function as a symbol of national unity. A selection of medals offers a glimpse of how artists on both sides of the conflict conveyed their sentiments in raw and often unconventional ways, while the lighters and gas mask are vivid reminders of the realities of trench and chemical warfare.




Exhibition image: Christopher Richard Wynne Nevinson (British, 1889–1946). Returning to the Trenches (detail), 1916. Drypoint, plate: 6 x 8 1/16 in. (15.2 x 20.4 cm); sheet: 8 3/8 x 11 in. (21.3 x 28 cm). The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, Rogers Fund, 1968 (68.510.3). ​Now at The Met image: Käthe Kollwitz (German, 1867–1945). Mothers (Mütter), 1919. Lithograph, sheet: 20 3/4 x 27 5/8 in. (52.7 x 70.1 cm). The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, Harris Brisbane Dick Fund, 1928 (28.68.3)