Adam and Eve and Art

There was a sculpture in the Stadel Museum in Frankfurt that really spoke to me. Really. It stopped me in my tracks and grabbed me and shouted at me. As art sometimes does. 

Adam and Eve by Max Beckmann.

Bronze sculpture, designed in 1936, cast in bronze in 1979. 

In the sculpture, Adam is huge, impersonal, with the snake coiled around him, peering over his shoulder. 

Eve is tiny, huddled in fear in his hand. Adam holds her there, but he doesn't see her. 

And then I had to know. Who is this Max Beckmann who could incorporate into one sculpture all the angst and fear and powerlessness I have felt as an Eve in a patriarchal society, particularly in my attempts to belong to my childhood religion, the Mormon church? How could he have known? 

I grew up in a patriarchal household and a patriarchal religion. Women are meant only to do certain things, to become certain people, under the instruction of the men who lead. The women can be great, with the permission of the men, as long as they do women things first.

Why? Why are women so restricted? Eve is an allegory of why. Woman is a temptress. Women choose poorly when left on their own. 

In Mormon landscapes, Eve is even more of a twisted soul, a compelling story. Over the years there have been words about how Eve chose correctly. And yet in their deeper ceremonies and sacred spaces they show Eve as the reason why women stay quiet, why women don't lead, why women need a husband to take them to heaven. 

 So the Adam and Eve story has been one that has bothered me for years. 

Typically, male artists show the story like this, another painting from the same museum:

Eve the temptress. Eve the evil. Eve who will make sure that snake gets you as soon as you reach for the apple. Watch out for Eve. She is evil. 

So it was such a shock to turn the corner and to see the sculpture that showed what the Adam and Eve story really means to women. 

Eve is vulnerable. In our patriarchal world, a patriarchal religion, Eve depends on Adam for safety and well being. And yet Adam is inhuman, unaware, and in league with the snake. You can tell from the sculpture that things are not going to end well for Eve.

How? 

How did a German man in the 1930s reach into my head and capture the experiences of a Mormon woman in the 21st century so precisely?

I looked up the sculpture at home. What had others written about the process, the art?

And of course it was disappointing. 

Max Beckmann, a man, was angry at the National Socialists, who in the 1930s had treated him with hostility, and called his art "degenerate".

And so he sculpted himself as Adam, a man in power, with the evil temptress representing the National Socialists there in his right hand, where he was going to crush her.

...

A thing about art is that is doesn't really matter what the artist intended. It can still speak to you in your own way, and make you sit up and think. 

And yet ... I think these fancy museums need to display more women's art. 

Quick trip to Germany

I helped organise a conference in Germany in January. It had been upcoming in my calendar for at least two years. I wanted to go, if the world was safe from the pandemic. But after years of sudden lockdowns, I delayed making the arrangements. I delayed and delayed until nearing the last minute, which was right after the time that all of our family got sick with Covid, in November.

It takes about 24 hours to get to Germany from Melbourne, and that's just the flight. On either end are airport check in times, passport control, ground transportation. And the conference was a three hour train ride from Frankfurt, outside a quiet town in the Black Forest. It's a really nice location if you live in Europe and can take a train or two. Really exhausting to get there from Melbourne.

I knew all this. And yet as an organiser, I felt I really should go.

If it takes you more than 24 hours to get to Germany, it probably makes sense to stay for more than a week. But then I would need to find a place to stay, people to stay with, people to work with, permission, approval, travel arrangements, etc, etc, etc. And I wasn't sure I wanted to go that far at all, and I wasn't sure if I would have to cancel it all.

So in the end, I just asked the campus travel agency to book a minimum length journey, which included one 24 hour flight, stopping in Doha Qatar this time, then 24 hours in Frankfurt to recover, with enough time to take a train to arrive Sunday evening before a Monday morning start. Departure: Friday night from the Black Forest, a night in Frankfurt, then back to the airport and 24 hours home.

I'm too old for this.

Flying out wasn't so bad this time. I left Melbourne at a reasonable hour. I slept a lot on the first plane. Watched a few movies. Slept on the second plane. Checked into my hotel in Frankfurt at 10:00am and slept again for a couple of hours. So far so good.

Saturday afternoon on a winter's day in Frankfurt, I walked to the art museum. Walked around the art museum. Through the art museum. Tired on the feet? I sat to contemplate all that art. Art museums seem pretty good for jet lag.

Dinner for one at the train station.

Early bed.

Morning. German breakfast at the Frankfurt hotel. Breakfasts are great in Germany, by the way.

And then a morning to fill time before my train. I walked, but it was pouring rain. Rain in the old city centre, rebuilt after the war. Rain on the river. Rain. 

 

I returned to my hotel, checked out a bit early, and went to the train station to sit and wait.

Because I was there, when I noticed my train was delayed, I was able to get onto an early one, and travel off into the hills.

The conference was lovely. I met up with colleagues and friends I hadn't seen since before the pandemic. This was a follow up conference from one I had missed in February 2020, when my flight through China was cancelled due to a new virus spreading there. My field of research is moving forward, and I'd like to move with it, but it's hard when it takes so long to travel to Europe.

In any case, the Black Forest was green and wet and green. 

 (And dark.)

Until Wednesday, when it snowed, and then it became white and wintery and still dark. 

 For a break, we walked an hour to a little inn for Black Forest Cake. Delicious. Then walked back. 

 

I couldn't help taking photos, it was so lovely. 

 

But where I meant to try to keep up my walking, I failed. The hills were muddy or icy, and slippery. The air cold in my lungs.

Friday night I found myself back at my hotel in Frankfurt, snow coming down. 

 

Saturday morning, delicious Germany breakfast, and off to the airport, plenty of time to find my check in counter, airport lines, security and passport control.

The flight was delayed. Snow in Frankfurt.

Two hours late, I was going to miss my connecting flight.

Midnight in Doha Qatar, I found myself walking the airport. 

 

I got back to Melbourne late late. It took a very long time for the luggage to appear. Then bus to taxi to home, 2am arrival Monday morning. Remember I left the Black Forest Friday evening.

And after a week of very bad sleep, I think I recovered.

I love seeing my friends and colleagues, and talking shop with them for a whole week in an isolated location. But I don't like the travel, the exhaustion, the mental space required to make the arrangements, line up the transit, move from A to B to C to D when I don't speak the language. It can be done and I can do it. But it is hard.