He translated the multifaceted genius of the Renaissance to the modern age
In memory of Karl-Heinz Adler ‒ Honorary Professor at TU Dresden and exceptional artist from Dresden
Niels-Christian Fritsche
Gwendolin Kremer
In 1993, Thea Herold wrote in the weekly newspaper DIE ZEIT about the extensive exhibition of Karl-Heinz Adler’s work at what was then the Brandenburg Art Collections in Cottbus on the occasion of his 65th birthday:
“In the end, the old teacher Wilhelm Rudolph has been proven right: ‘You must grow old and outlive your critics.’ That’s what he told the young student at the Brühl in Dresden back then. And the Vogtland native Adler has shown just that sort of patience. He also found support abroad, as no recognition was to be found far and wide in German lands.”
Karl-Heinz Adler died on November 4, 2018, in Dresden at the age of 92. The artist, born in 1927 in Remtengrün in Vogtland, had to wait a very long time for success and recognition. Born during the Weimar Republic, having grown up under National Socialism and finally training as a painter in the GDR at the Colleges for Visual Arts [Hochschulen für Bildende Künste (HfBK)] in Dresden and West Berlin, his constructivist, ever more abstract art was little regarded.
Twenty-five years – an entire quarter of a century and practically a generation – later, Karl-Heinz Adler’s wide-ranging constructivist work has finally received its due honor and recognition in Dresden at the Albertinum, in Gera and in Budapest, amongst other places. And in the Altana Gallery of the Office for Academic Heritage, Scientific and Art Collections in the Görges-Bau building, an exhibition of this exceptional artist’s works in the Art Collections and the possession of the Society of Friends and Supporters of TU Dresden (GFF) was presented on the occasion of his 90th birthday. This showcase exhibition underscores Adler’s long-standing connection to TU Dresden and the Altana Gallery, which has repeatedly exhibited his works over the past 15 years. His works and endeavors have direct ties to our university.
Adler’s works from the Collection of the Office for Academic Heritage, Scientific and Art Collections at TU Dresden, as well as loans from the GFF and the artist himself, offered a glimpse into his diverse portfolio this past year. His serial line drawings, layered works, collages and rhythmic color-field paintings were on display in showcases supplemented by student works and ceramic silicate, an invention by Adler and Friedrich Kracht. Furthermore, the 1982 book “Graphic Etudes” (Graphische Etüden), published by Lothar Lang and the publishing house Reclam Verlag Leipzig, contextualizes his work along with that of Hermann Glöckner, Willy Wolff and others – enriched by three wonderful gouache paintings by Friedrich Kracht, with whom Adler developed the patented pre-cast concrete program (Betonformsteinprogramm).
The artist translated the multifaceted genius of the Renaissance to our modern age, fascinated as it is by constructing and experimenting. In 1956, he found himself on the trail of the mysterious material behind the Persian blue tiles of the Middle East, believed lost for three thousand years. In pursuit of this, the “Collective of Young Scientists” surrounding the artist and lecturers at what was then the Technische Hochschule Dresden in the Department of Architecture developed silicate stone and a ceramic granulate. From 1963, a series of patented processes and products resulted under Adler’s direction.
Karl-Heinz Adler’s work spanned and transcended the 20th century in three ways. His invention of silicate stone established the tile as part of modern, post-war architecture: The previously non-breathable tiles fell from the houses of Stalin Allee. Since 1962, silicate tiles have held the façade of the colorful “Cosmos Theater” in Berlin together and kept it water-tight.
The “concrete formed ceramic program” developed with the fellow artist Friedrich Kracht declared ornamentation to be itself a part of the substance of a building. When it comes to the formed ceramic, we cannot remove any decoration – or accidents – because the substance itself would fall away. It is a building kit for what Niklas Maak terms “Eastern Modern.”
The color layers – or rather layers of color layers – break the taboo of leaving brushstrokes visible in concrete art. The images do not have to look like they were mechanically lacquered. In reference to Karl-Heinz Adler, Colin Ardley speaks of “subversive impressionism.”
Karl-Heinz Adler brought together artistic, construction-based, scientific and pedagogical work. He broke down his cosmological interests, his principle of simplification, and his pure fascination of material effects into numerous series of works. The balance between the limitations of the physical medium and opulent artistic curiosity runs through all of his work. The material research, the “complex environmental design” and concrete art of the 20th century are woven together into a continuous œuvre that sought to unite painted images and three-dimensional visualizations.
Artists who did not conform to the system in the GDR lived as “dissidents in lethally thin air,” as Heinz Rudolf Kunze put it. “And freedom means to have suffered as onlookers of this autopsy of utopia” with a “bottomless integrity.” Adler combined graphic, painted and plastic work. We could also add system and intuition. According to Wolf Biermann, “Only those who change remain true to themselves.” Adler’s work is full of such moments. He remains in our memory a skeptical enthusiast and enthusiastic skeptic.
In the opaque society of the GDR, Peter Handke said, “I live from that which others do not know of me.” For Adler, this meant silence, productivity, peace, no distractions from gallerists, even if this meant no opportunities for large exhibitions, and for a long time in parallel, construction-based and free art.
In response to evaluations of his work, Karl-Heinz Adler generally first offered a well-intentioned confirmation and a friendly, “that could be,” followed by “but it could also be like this, or even something else entirely.” For Olaf Lauströer, Adler was a “master of the categorical subjunctive.” In 1988, at the age of 61, Karl-Heinz Adler received a guest professorship at the Art Academy in Düsseldorf. In 2008, at the age of 81, he received the art award of the city of Dresden and was appointed honorary professor for Visual Theory at the TU Dresden.
In 2004, when Karl-Heinz Adler was 77 years old, Polish art critic Bozena Kowalska wrote the wonderful book Adler. Auf der Suche nach Ordnung und Raum (“Adler: Searching for Space and Order”) for the Kunstsammlungen (Art Collections) of Chemnitz and the Museum of Concrete Art. It was immediately clear that this was more than a lovely catalog; it was also the beginning of a comprehensive index of his works.
Eight years later, in 2012, Ingrid Mössinger and Sabine Tauscher published Adler. This offers insight into Adler’s “innovation potential” and enables the reader to practice “autonomous,” agenda-free art criticism using Adler’s work – not about him, which is an essential distinction. What is Karl-Heinz Adler trying to do? What does it mean for us who did not try ourselves? Adler invites us on a journey of discovery. To appreciate and engage with the artist as an “artist’s artist,” as Marion Ackermann, General Director of the State Art Collections of Dresden, stresses.
On November 20, 2018, Karl-Heinz Adler will posthumously receive the Order of Merit of the Federal Republic of Germany.
This article was published on November 27, 2018, in the 19/2018 Dresden Universitätsjournal. You can download the full issue as a PDF for free here. You can also order the UJ in print or as a PDF from doreen.liesch@tu-dresden.de. More information is available at universitaetsjournal.de.