I want this Gallery to be open to the public.
Athanasius in a letter to Edward RaczyÅski dated 5 July 1829
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1 A Temple to Art
RaczyÅski devoted a few paragraphs only to what he saw as the mission and essential features of an art museum or gallery. Read, however, in the context of his writings on the meaning and role of artistic creativity in general, and of the discourse of his contemporaries on the nature and social role of museums, these passages, despite their brevity, are very rich in meaning. RaczyÅskiâs views on art crystallized at a very specific moment in time. While he expressed his artistic views most fully in his History of Modern German Art (1836â1841), they were already well formed by the first half of the 1830s. It was the time when the Royal Museum in Berlin first opened its doors.
The establishment of this museum in the Prussian capital in 1830 was preceded by a fierce debate over its purpose, the proper means for selecting works, the rules governing their exhibition, and the relationship between an art collection and the architecture that housed it.1 The most renowned public figures and scholars of the period took part in this debate, which continued even after the museum had opened. RaczyÅskiâs words can be treated as one voice in this discussion. However, to understand them more fully, we need to go back in time to the 1780s and examine two examples of cities with longer histories as museum sites: Vienna and Dresden. First, however, let us read what RaczyÅski wrote.
RaczyÅskiâs most important observations on art museums may be found in the third volume of his History of Modern German Art. While the Count is commenting here specifically on an exhibition at the Royal Museum in Berlin, his views are mostly of a more general nature. His guiding thought seems quite programmatic: âThe museum is a temple to taste. It need not be complete or ordered chronologically if this can only be achieved at the expense of taste. I am therefore of the opinion that many paintings have to be moved so that their ugliness can be hidden away in buildings where one goes merely to study the history of art and which are visited only by those who devote themselves to this goal. I believe that a galleryâs main purpose is to provide pleasure to those endowed with good taste, to develop good taste in those who lack it, and further reinforce and sharpen the good taste of those who already possess it.â2
RaczyÅski writes from the perspective of an aesthete. What he looks for first of all in a museum is beauty and its associated pleasures, not academic order or knowledge. The beauty of art was of great importance to him. He considered the experience of art to be something akin to a religious experience â and hence the comparison he draws between a museum and a temple. Taste, in turn, for him is nothing more than a sensitivity to beauty; it is the ability to recognize and appreciate beauty. RaczyÅskiâs views are thus very close to what has been labelled âart-as-religionâ (Kunstreligion). This was an aesthetic concept that postulated that art and religion were indeed connected and shared similar goals. In the early nineteenth century, Kunstreligion constituted an important trend in the theory of art. However, by 1830 it already seemed somewhat dated.3 However, the main reference point for RaczyÅskiâs views was not Kunstreligion, but a discussion on the proper arrangement and function of museum exhibitions inspired in large part by the reorganization in the late eighteenth century of the imperial picture gallery in Vienna, but which was also part of a broader discourse that continued in many European cities until the 1850s.
The imperial collection of paintings in Vienna underwent significant changes, initiated by Maria Theresa and Joseph II between 1772 and 1782. The collection was inventoried, catalogued, moved from Stallburg to new rooms in the Upper Belvedere, and rearranged.4 Initially, Joseph Rosa was appointed director of the collection. Rosa was a painter specializing in landscapes and idyllic scenes who came from a Viennese family with long artistic traditions and had been in the service of Frederick Augustus II in Dresden for over twenty years. In 1779, Rosa was dismissed (we do not know why exactly), and Christian von Mechel was appointed the new director. Mechel was a Swiss engraver who was something of a jack-of-all-trades: having worked professionally as a successful publisher, manager of a prospering engraving workshop, and as an enterprising art dealer.5 When he became the director of the royal gallery, it was already preparing to re-open. However, over the next few months (until June 1781), Mechel thoroughly rearranged the gallery, much to the excitement of the general public. Mechel arranged the paintings in the Belvedere according to two principles: (i) by national schools (Italian, Netherlandish, and German), further divided into regional schools; and (ii) in chronological order, this being the first time such a system had been applied in Europe on such a grand scale. The first principle governed the organization of paintings on the ground floor, while the latter was used on the first floor. For the most part, the exhibition on the first floor documented the chronological development of Northern European oil painting. This was the most important, though not the only change made to the arrangement proposed by Rosa. The works were also displayed differently: they no longer covered every part of the walls but were instead hung at some distance from one other. Mechel used, or âengaged,â the wall as an important element of the exhibition. The wall began to be seen as a neutral and passive background on which the dynamic story told by the paintings takes place.
These changes were not only technical. They were also an expression of a new way of thinking (but with roots in the eighteenth century) about the museum itself: its essence, function, role, and visitors. Mechel clearly expressed the aims of his novel approach in the introduction in the gallery catalogue published in 1783: âThe objective of all these efforts was to make use of this beautiful edifice, which is highly appropriate for the purpose through its divisions into numerous rooms, in such a way that both the arrangement as a whole and each of its parts would be educational and would approach most closely a visible history of art. Such a large collection, established to cultivate knowledge and not merely to provide passing pleasure, can be compared to a library in which a reader hungry for knowledge can enjoy works of all kinds and from all periods, not only what is attractive and perfect, but alternating contrasts. By contemplating and comparing such works â which is the only way to attain knowledge â one can develop into a connoisseur of art.â6 Historical knowledge over aesthetic experience, knowledge over pleasure, and expertise over passion: in order to better understand the meaning of these opposites, we can compare the gallery in Vienna with another extensive and famous art collection â the Dresden picture gallery. RaczyÅski knew both collections well.
Since 1746, the House of Wettinâs collection in Dresden had been housed in its separate building. The collection was reorganised in 1763. The paintings were divided into two categories: the works of Italian masters displayed in an inner gallery leading from the courtyard, and the works of Northern European masters displayed in the outer gallery. Within these two groups, the paintings were not subject to further topographic or chronological classification. Their arrangement was governed by aesthetic concerns such as decorativeness, symmetry, and sympathetic association with neighbouring works. This arrangement, as the authors of the collectionâs catalogue, Johann Anton Riedel and Christian Friedrich Wenzel, explained was meant to help develop viewersâ artistic taste.7 By comparing various works that were hung close to one another, the audience was able to enjoy their beauty and at the same time to form and verify artistic judgements. The Dresden Gallery was conceived as a collection of masterpieces, documenting the different stages of Europeâs artistic development through its most perfect representatives. The assumed ideal was not a complete collection of historical and documentary value subjected to strict classification but a persuasive and visually pleasing exhibition. Naturally, the collection was also meant to educate the public. However, in his Viennese gallery, Mechel had a different understanding of what educating the public entailed.
The galleries in Dresden and Vienna not only pursued (or at least prioritized) different goals, these were also aimed at different audiences. The Dresden collection was intended for art experts and enthusiasts who were already knowledgeable about the subject and capable of dating and identifying the author of any given work and who considered art a source of aesthetic delight. Mechelâs Viennese collection, in turn, was addressed to novice art students interested in a systematic study of art history. As an art expert and enthusiast himself, RaczyÅski found the Dresden model more appealing.
Mechelâs system of classification became the subject of lively debate in the specialist press. Friendly and even enthusiastic opinions were widely expressed, mainly because Mechelâs proposals fitted well with a temporal conceptualization of knowledge, a trend that was clearly visible in the natural sciences and humanities in the latter half of the eighteenth century. This was followed in the nineteenth century by the triumph of historical thinking. Chronological organization soon became the most important organizing principle for art museums throughout Europe.8 This does not mean, however, that this system was accepted without reservations, doubts, or protests.
Mechel left Vienna in 1781 under mysterious and apparently unpleasant circumstances. He moved to Berlin in 1805, hoping to advance his career by establishing an art museum in the Prussian capital. Contrary to his expectations, he did not play a major role in the cityâs cultural life, but the concept he devised for a museum was well received. It inspired Alois Hirt, who in 1797 presented a public petition to the Prussian King calling for the creation of an art museum in Berlin.9 The museum finally opened more than thirty years later, on 3 August 1830. The idea behind the institution had changed significantly over these decades. Initially conceived as being architecturally and ideologically linked with the cityâs art academy, the museum was ultimately housed in a separate building in the so-called Lustgarten.10 It was thus placed in a unique urban context, manifesting its spatial and semantic ties not only with the art academy and artistic education but also with power (it faced the royal castle) and knowledge (its proximity to the university).11 This new architectural context also signalled changes in the role of the museum. While both Hirt and Christian Karl Bunsen, a scholar, a long-time Prussian envoy in Rome and one of the prominent figures shaping Prussian cultural policy at that time, believed that a museum should be an educational institution and that its target audience were artists, for other key participants in the discourse on the role of the museum, such as Karl Friedrich Schinkel, the architect who designed the museum building, the art experts Gustav Friedrich Waagen and Carl Friedrich Rumohr, this was a secondary concern. In April 1829, an ideological and personal conflict led to Hirtâs dismissal from the museum committee, the body supervising work on the new museum. The following month, Wilhelm von Humboldt became the committeeâs new chairman. His authority greatly influenced the final shape of the exhibition, including the layout of the picture gallery on the first floor (sculptures were housed on the ground floor).
We learn more about Humboldtâs intentions from two documents he wrote while on the committee. The first document is a letter to Waagen dated 22 May 1829, the other the final report prepared for King Frederick William II, dated 21 August 1830. Like Waagen, Rumohr, and Schinkel, Humboldt sought to achieve some sort of harmony between aesthetic pleasure and the historical and artistic education offered by the museum and the works exhibited within it. In a letter to Waagen, he wrote:
I think that aesthetic and historical needs impose, in fact, similar requirements when it comes to the organization of the gallery. Anyone interested in the history of art would like no less than an art lover, unconcerned with the systematic study of art, to get a full and proper impression of every painting he views. Indeed, in matters of art, even a scholar can justify and base his judgment solely on his feelings and aesthetic impressions. An exhibition must therefore be able to create such an impression in a full and undisturbed manner, enhanced whenever possible by favourable combinations of [works] for both the expert and art lover.12
Consequently, the committee decided to divide the paintings into three main sections: Italian works and those connected with Italian painting; Dutch and German paintings; and âantique artefacts and historical and artistic curiositiesâ (mainly early Renaissance Italian painting). Within these main categories, further divisions were introduced. These were governed by various criteria.13
As we have seen, RaczyÅski did not approve of the organization of the exhibition, but this is understandable given that he rejected its underlying premises. Nor did he believe in trying to seek a balance between the historical and aesthetic merits of an exhibition, but rather, he prioritised the latter. RaczyÅski believed that academic and historical goals were impossible to realise if matters of taste were neglected. In his assessment of Berlin, where artistic taste had given way to other considerations, he was highly critical. âOur museum is a temple to deception and trickery,â he stated in 1841.14 Two years later, he wrote:
The right-hand side of the museum is two-thirds full of old relics of anti-Raphaelesque paintings that are so ugly that children may find them frightening. There is no need to cover all the walls with paintings. Keep these peculiar and terrible specimens in five, six, or seven rooms, and keep them securely locked so that no one will steal them from you, and donât show these paintings to the public, as they will make them hate art.15
RaczyÅski was so critical of the museum in Berlin because he believed that the essence and the main goal of art was to bring pleasure by means of beauty. Thus, in accordance with his theory of art, a museum of art should be dedicated to beauty. He believed a museum that favours chronological organization at the expense of aesthetic pleasure is fatally flawed. It only serves a secondary purpose and only benefits a small group of professional art historians. A museum must promote aesthetic criteria in order to accomplish its social mission of making people sensitive to beauty and, indirectly, to goodness, as well.
For RaczyÅski, aesthetics and ethics were inseparable. He associated beauty not only with truth but also with goodness. The Count wrote: âbeauty in art is what truth is in relation to religion and morality, or rather these are two truths that are actually one and the same.â16 The ability to recognize beauty, or artistic taste, was so desirable because beauty leads to virtue.
This long-standing concept was discussed in detail by eighteenth-century German aestheticians, including Immanuel Kant, Alexander Gottlieb Baumgarten, and Johann Georg Sulzer. The latter wrote: âReason and morality are the first requisites for those who would lift themselves out of the dust and elevate their nature, but this rising is consummated by taste, which completes both reason and morality. [â¦] Taste leaves nothing of manâs natural rawness but makes him sensitive to all goodness.â17 Sulzer thus justifies the social and political role played by art: art makes individuals, and indirectly, societies, better. It seems that RaczyÅski fully agreed with Sulzer. Indeed, he too believed that art and politics were intertwined and saw the state authorities as being culpable for the mediocrity of contemporary art: âGovernments are responsible for the fact that bad taste is triumphant, and that bad taste is a stain on our nationâs history.â18 Athanasius wrote extensively about the need to develop and cultivate good taste in art. He wrote about the importance of erudition in general, of learning how to perceive beauty and moral behaviour, and of avoiding passing trends (âthe greatest cause of our souls going astrayâ) and negative influences. Those who meet these conditions are able to discover within themselves an innate supreme ideal of beauty, das Urbild des Schönen, thanks to which their experience of beauty will be one that is âdelicate, proper, and in harmony with the laws of nature.â19 Naturally, when art is consistent with the essential ideals of truth and nature, it makes people better and more virtuous. For RaczyÅski, good taste and good morals were almost synonymous.20 It is thus understandable that he believed that museums and art galleries played a unique role in society.
This does not mean, however, that RaczyÅski totally rejected chronological order as a means of illustrating the history of artistic developments. In his History of Modern German Art, RaczyÅski gives a voice to his critics; in it, he published two articles by the respected scholars Karl Wilhelm Wach and Johann Gottlob von Quandt, who were in favour of the chronological organization. In his commentary on the articles, Athanasius wrote:
I am convinced, like Mr. Wach and Mr. Quandt, that chronological order is the only one suitable for a great gallery of paintings. Taste, as well as reason, would suffer if we saw Carl Maratti next to [Fra Giovanni da] Fiesole [Fra Angelico] or Perugino. I do not think, however, that the gallery should hold too many repulsive paintings, ones dating back to the earliest period of the revival of art and bearing traces of this. There should only be a few such paintings, even in an extensive collection. I also believe that works that do not fully represent a great artist should not be included in the Royal Museum.21
RaczyÅski thus recognized the value of the chronological arrangement. He simply objected to the fact that in some cases an excessive number of paintings that did not meet the required aesthetic criteria were included in a collection solely because they met certain historical criteria.
Several years later, in 1859, RaczyÅski once again publicly voiced his opinion on this issue as a member of the newly appointed Advisory Committee at the Royal Museums in Berlin. He argued that paintings that did not meet the aesthetic criteria did not belong in the museum. He explicitly named several works that were, in his opinion, unworthy of being displayed in a public institution and formulated more general remarks regarding the mission of a museum of art. Taste was again treated as a normative category and the ultimate criterion for selecting the works to be exhibited. âIn general, I think,â RaczyÅski wrote, âthat objects that cause an adverse impression do not belong in a museum, and if [they are included in the collection], then only for reasons that have nothing to do with art. Such objects confuse the concepts of virtue and hurt the feelings and taste of true art lovers and experts, as well as all people endowed by nature with artistic sensitivity.â22
RaczyÅskiâs criticism also related to another important issue. According to him, ârepulsiveâ paintings by the Old Masters should be removed (though not literally, as they should be displayed in an area designated for them), and their place should be taken by outstanding works by contemporary painters. âWe should buy old paintings because our museum must possess good works by the greatest masters of the classical age. However, since costs must be appropriate to the goals and means, it is far more important to support the revival of modern art than to buy [older] works that are often less valuable than new paintings.â23 If the museum followed such a policy in its purchases, RaczyÅski argued, it would play an essential role in improving and promoting contemporary art. Indeed, the museum itself would change as well. By collecting both old and contemporary works, it would become a space for dialogue between old and modern art. It would educate the public about the ancestry of contemporary artists, and at the same time, emphasize their originality.
RaczyÅski was not the only critic to suggest similar postulates. Also, Carl Friedrich von Rumohr, an informal external advisor to the museum committee, claimed that one of the museumâs departments should be devoted to âthe most outstanding contemporary artists.â24 However, contemporary German art was not displayed in the museum until forty years later. And when it finally was the case, modern paintings were exhibited not alongside historical works but in a separate building of the National Gallery.
Apart from Rumohr, the painter Wilhelm Schadow, another important representative of German artistic life in the first half of the nineteenth century, expressed views close to RaczyÅskiâs. In fact, Schadowâs ideas greatly influenced Athanasiusâ own.25 Schadow refers to all the main points listed by RaczyÅski in his discussion on the concept of the museum. He believed that galleries and museums played an important role in âraising and improving the human spirit;â he questioned chronological ordering, saying it was detrimental to aesthetic value; he argued that mediocre old paintings were over-represented in museums and âthat there is little or no room left for the works of talented living artists;â and he criticized the doctrinal approach of incompetent art âexperts.â The views of both Schadow and RaczyÅski are indeed quite similar. While this convergence of views was no coincidence, it does not mean that the latter drew upon the former for ideas, but rather that both men voiced similar positions as a result of earlier discussions between them. This is all the more probable given that Schadow expressed his mature views only in 1854 in a fictionalized treatise entitled The Modern Vasari (Der moderne Vasari. Erinnerungen aus dem Künstlerleben. Novelle). The above quotes come from this text.26
What RaczyÅski found lacking in the Berlin museum, he adopted in his private gallery. In one room, there was a dynamic interaction between old and contemporary paintings that were hung next to one another. These had been selected according to an aesthetic key that was meant to allow one to experience the essence of art and beauty and thereby satisfy and refine oneâs good taste. RaczyÅskiâs reflections on the museum and its organizing principles constituted the theoretical background for his exhibition praxis. While he fully developed his concepts in Berlin, it was in PoznaÅ that the notion of an art gallery open to the public was first conceived.
2 A Joint Undertaking: The Gallery in PoznaÅ
On 26 February 1823, Edward Lubomirski, a relative and close friend of the RaczyÅski brothers, died as a direct result of a duel with Ignacy Grocholski. In 1827, acting on behalf of Athanasius, Edward RaczyÅski bought the plot of land in PoznaÅ where his brotherâs gallery would be built.27 There are indications that these two events were, in fact, closely related.
Before his death, on 24 January, Edward Lubomirski dictated a letter containing instructions regarding the division of his property.28 Edward RaczyÅski, who was the letterâs addressee, was to play a special role in this process. Since Edward was âhis best friend,â Lubomirski asked him to execute his will. RaczyÅski was also requested to publish his friendâs book about England and to found a hospital with money Lubomirski had set aside for this purpose. Lubomirski also left his friend: âAll my books, all the papers that are in Warsaw, Radzymin, and Dubno are yours, my beloved Edward, [â¦] and my paintings.â29 RaczyÅski took his obligations seriously.30 He published Lubomirskiâs book, entitled Statistical and Political Outline of England in 1829 and wrote a preface to it.31 Several months later, an ophthalmic hospital (the Prince Edward Lubomirski Eye Institute) was opened in Warsaw.32 Edward also took great care of the books and works of art he inherited from Lubomirski. Had he added them to his family collection and housed them in the palace in Rogalin, they would have been reduced to a mere intimate memento of his late friend. He had no desire to do this as his aim was to build up and preserve the memory of Lubomirski in the collective consciousness. This could only be accomplished if these works of art were displayed in a gallery that was open to the public in the main city in the province. Edwardâs intention was to show these works as a distinct group and to commemorate their previous owner with an inscription. Ultimately, Athanasius felt he had to intervene because he considered the inscription proposed by his brother to be too grandiloquent. In a letter from December 1827, when the concept behind the gallery was materialising, he wrote:
Donât you think that an inscription under the paintings which reads from the collection etc. would be too pompous, because collection implies something more. I think that the following inscription would be better: From Prince Edward Lubomirski and at the bottom of the frame, not on the gilded part, but on this side: Count Edw. RaczyÅski inherited this painting from Prince Edw. Lubomirski in 1823 and added it to the Gallery of the RaczyÅski entail in 1827.33
It seems that Edward RaczyÅski played as important role in creating the gallery in PoznaÅ as Athanasius. His contribution was perhaps even decisive. Edward RaczyÅski wished to commemorate Lubomirski by creating a gallery open to the public where the works he had inherited from his friend could be displayed. The fact that he would be creating a perfect pendant for, or even extension of, the palace and library he was building must have been an incentive as well. While it is true that his younger brother Athanasius was the owner of the plot of land on which the building was erected and the official founder of the gallery, Edward was very probably its inspiration and the driving force behind the project. Edward lived in PoznaÅ and Rogalin and could thus supervise the construction works, discuss various technical solutions, and motivate Athanasius to allocate money for construction purposes. Edwardâs letters testify to his deep commitment to and emotional involvement in the construction of the gallery. Athanasius, on the other hand, seems more reserved. It is also telling that there is no mention at all of the gallery in PoznaÅ in his diary. While the gallery was under construction, Athanasius was living in Berlin and, in fact, wanted to move to the Prussian capital permanently. His stay in PoznaÅ in 1827 and the unpleasant proceedings in the provincial parliament only made him distance himself from the hometown, with which he already had a problematic relationship. This does not mean that Athanasius simply obeyed his brother. He too thought the prospect of opening a publicly accessible gallery exciting; in 1827, he already owned a number of significant works of art and believed that they should be displayed in public. Nevertheless, he could not have completed this project without Edwardâs encouragement and involvement.
Architecturally and ideologically, the gallery was most closely associated with the palace and library founded by Edward RaczyÅski. At the end of 1816, Edward RaczyÅski made his first attempt to purchase a plot of land in PoznaÅ in the prestigious Wilhelm Square (Wilhelmsplatz, now Plac WolnoÅci), where he wished to build a representative building combining a residence and a library.34 Due to administrative difficulties, negotiations between RaczyÅski and the Prussian authorities continued for several years and only ended in the spring of 1821. Finally, an agreement between the parties was signed on 27 October 1821. Construction works were completed in 1829. The library was officially opened on 5 May 1829 following a symbolic ceremony, while it opened to the public three years later. At the same time, Edward also made efforts to buy an adjacent plot of land at Wilhelm Square for Athanasius where the gallery would be built. When this transaction fell through due to the objections of the Interior Minister Friedrich Schuckmann, Athanasius purchased a different plot of land in 1827. It was also adjacent to the plot of land on which the palace and the library had been erected, but it was on Wilhelm Street (Wilhelmstrasse, now Aleje Karola Marcinkowskiego). The gallery was erected on that plot of land as a wing of the palace. Construction works began in 1828 and ended in 1829.
The idea of combining the gallery, palace, and library was an excellent one. Seen as a private residence, the buildings carried a powerful symbolic message, demonstrating the prestige and wealth of the family. As a public institution, it was part of a long-honoured tradition, dating back to the Alexandrian museion, of combining a library and a museum.35
The gallery building was commissioned from the Berlin architect Karl Friedrich Schinkel in late 1827. In a letter from 30 December, Athanasius informed his brother: âSchinkel will come to me on Thursday. We will decide on the concept of the room, the façade, and the lighting.â The expression âwe will decideâ (nous arreterons) may be a rhetorical convention but it more likely indicates RaczyÅskiâs active participation in the design process. Detailed design drawings were made by Schinkelâs pupil and collaborator Carl Friedrich Reichardt. On-site works under the supervision of Edward were conducted by the building contractor Abicht, who also worked for RaczyÅski on the library. Edward, as has already been emphasized, was very involved in the construction works. âYour gallery impresses me,â he wrote enthusiastically in January 1829, assuring his brother that: âwe will get a lot done this year.â36 A few weeks later, he inquired: âYou spent three thousand écus in 1829 [on the gallery], how much will you spend in 1830?â In one of his subsequent letters concerning the roof, he encouraged Athanasius to allocate additional money for construction works: âa thousand écus more and we could finish the building on the outside and protect the walls from moisture next winter. You decide, and I will do it.â37 In a letter from Dresden dated 5 July 1829, Athanasius commented extensively on the financing of the building:
You ask me, my dear Edward, am I spending a lot of money on the building in PoznaÅ where I plan to display my paintings. [â¦] I allocated 10,000 thalers for this building, from which it is necessary to deduct what has already been spent on it. Next, then, every St. Johnâs Day and every New Year Kananowski will pay you 1000 Rthl [thalers] until the money mentioned above runs out. I promised the Oberpräsident [Theodor von Baumann, the President of the Grand Duchy of PoznaÅ] that the outside of the building would be finished by October 1831, and I would like to keep this promise.38
From what can be reconstructed based on an engraving from Memories of Wielkopolska (Fig. 120), the new gallery was a horizontal two-storey building measuring approximately 35 by 10 metres and was slightly lower than the palace.39 The façade overlooking the street was austere: the uniform rhythm of the rusticated lower storey was interspersed by eight windows grouped in pairs, while the much higher upper storey was dominated by the large rectangular pilaster-framed windows of the exhibition rooms, separated by stretches of smooth wall. The only decorative elements were two antique-style statues placed in niches on the edges of the second storey. Perhaps, as Eva Börsch-Supan and Zofia Ostrowska-KÄbÅowska claim, these were personifications of painting and drawing.40 The whole elevation was crowned with a moulding and an attic. The caretakerâs apartment and, probably, the artistsâ studios were on the ground floor, while the exhibition rooms were on the first floor. The paintings were to be displayed in bigger rooms overlooking the street, while graphic works and drawings were probably intended to be displayed in smaller rooms overlooking the courtyard.41 The buildingâs simplicity and excellent proportions testified to its artistry. The large windows on the first floor and the sculptural decorations indicated the buildingâs intended destiny as an art gallery.
Edward RaczyÅskiâs Library and Athanasiusâ Gallery in PoznaÅ, drawing in Edward RaczyÅskiâs Wspomnienia Wielkopolski, 1843
RaczyÅski gave a vivid description of how he pictured the layout and functioning of the gallery in a letter he wrote to his brother from Dresden in the summer of 1829:
Iâll reveal to you what I intend for this picture gallery. The number and organization of paintings are indicated in the plan I showed you in Berlin. These paintings, together with the building, are to be included in the entail. 1st and 2nd class [paintings] are non-transferable. 3rd and 4th class can be replaced by the entail holder, but no painting can be removed unless it is replaced by a different one, and I ask that my successors replace the paintings they take down with better ones. I want this Gallery to be open to the public, but I do not impose this obligation on the entail holder. During a war, the paintings should be taken out of PoznaÅ by the entail holder or guardians, but they must return to the gallery in PoznaÅ when the war ends. The paintings and sculptures cost me nearly 20,000 Rthl [thalers], and the building cost me 10,000.
As we can see, already during construction works, RaczyÅski had a clear vision for the gallery, including its organization, management, and the arrangement of paintings. Athanasius also wished to ensure that his project would survive: the building and collection were to be included in the entail and treated as an inalienable part of the family property. As far as the collection was concerned, RaczyÅskiâs plans were successful.
Unfortunately, the drawing mentioned in the letter showing how the paintings in the gallery were grouped and organised could not be located. Therefore, we can only speculate on their possible layout. We know that the pictures Edward inherited from Lubomirski and the works of old and contemporary masters collected by Athanasius were to be displayed. Among the latter, as we have seen, many were true masterpieces. However, the gallery was conceived from the outset as a dynamic structure â it was thus meant to grow. In March 1828, Athanasius wrote to his brother:
I have a small assignment for you. In the Carmelite or Camaldolese church in the meadow [St. Josephâs church in PoznaÅ] there are two ancient paintings from the thirteenth or fourteenth century depicting a king and a queen. They are hung quite high. Take a look at them with Fuhrman. Make sure you know when they were painted. Write to me whom the paintings depict and let me know whether I could possibly acquire them but in such a way that I would not have to hide my ownership afterwards ⦠Baumann and the city would have to agree to that. We could give them copies. Do you think it would be a good plan for acquiring and displaying these paintings in the gallery?42
As evidenced by a letter from autumn 1832, Edward was also involved in buying paintings. While the gallery is not mentioned in the letter, the artworks in question were most likely acquired to be displayed in PoznaÅ:
I wrote to Ulrich about Canaletto and OrÅowski, but it occurred to me that the Russians would be prepared to purchase the painting and take it to St. Petersburg. That is why I wrote to your wife yesterday, asking her and her sister to do all they could to buy it outside of the auction. We could buy it cheaper at auction, but in this way, we can be certain weâll get it. This painting is so important that I would walk 15 miles for it. The auction of Baron Mohrenheimâs paintings will be equally important. I think you saw them. He was a minister in Spain and had some real Velázquez and several other strangely beautiful easel paintings. In any case, I wrote to Ulrich in your name, asking him to send me a catalogue, and I will write to my wife, asking her to pick up the catalogue on her way back through Warsaw. When it is so difficult to have something good done on commission, you have to stick to auctions, at least you know what youâre getting.43
This letter is important because it shows that in 1832 the gallery was still a work in progress. The pictures mentioned by Edward were indeed purchased. Athanasius bought Canalettoâs large historical painting depicting the Election of Stanislas II Augustus of Poland at Wola, originally from the collection of the last Polish king, and two gouache drawings by Aleksander OrÅowski, originally from the collection of the late Aleksander BniÅski.44
But why did the RaczyÅskis even consider building a gallery that would be open to the public in PoznaÅ? I have already discussed Edwardâs motives. Meanwhile, Athanasiusâ decision to make the collection public was based on two premises. First of all, it is very likely that Athanasiusâ belief that art played an important role in society made him want to display his collection in public for the moral betterment of humanity. Secondly, the decision to show the collection to the public was connected with his social status and standing. As has been mentioned above, RaczyÅski stated in 1822 that the collection âwould be a claim to fame for my family.â
The link between social status and collecting art was fully recognized during the Renaissance. Indeed, since the mid-sixteenth century, art had become a token of power and high social standing.45 However, in the mid-eighteenth century, this belief was significantly redefined. As a result of ongoing political and social processes â the formation of public opinion and its recognition as a powerful political force, and pressure from artists, scholars, and art enthusiasts â more and more private collections, primarily those owned by rulers and public officials, were becoming open to the public.46 In German states, to use an example close to RaczyÅski, almost all galleries owned by princes were already available to the public by the end of the eighteenth century, sometimes with restrictions (âthe publicâ was, in fact, generally limited to the social, intellectual and increasingly financial elite). Rulers were being forced to redefine their cultural role and find new propaganda tools to legitimize their actions: they gradually became the guardians of public culture. The traditional role played by art and art collections in princely courts (glorification of the ruler) did not disappear but instead changed once the collection was opened to the public. Possessing luxurious and beautiful objects was no longer a princeâs only possible claim to fame. In order to attain recognition, he had to open the collection to the general public (and not just to the elite). In the nineteenth century, âthe museum age,â as Germain Bazin puts it,47 in most European countries, this process culminated in the transformation of royal collections into public institutions under the auspices of the state. Aristocratic collectors from Italy, England, France, Russia, and other European countries recognized these changes and opened their galleries to the public. Athanasius RaczyÅski was also well aware that for art to become a mark of social status, it must be publicly displayed, not merely owned.
However, RaczyÅskiâs paintings were never displayed in the gallery in PoznaÅ. In the spring of 1834, the Count decided to move to Berlin and buy a house there. This effectively meant that the plan to display his paintings in the gallery in Wielkopolska would not come to fruition.48 Nevertheless, the building erected by the brothers functioned for some time, at least periodically, as a gallery where the public could see selected paintings from Athanasiusâ collection. From 1837, biennial public exhibitions of contemporary painting were organized in PoznaÅ by the Society of Fine Arts for the Grand Duchy of PoznaÅ, established in 1836.49 The first four exhibitions were organized by the Society in RaczyÅskiâs gallery (which was also occupied at the time by the DrezdeÅski Hotel). It was only due to the reconstruction of the building in the mid-1840s that these exhibitions were moved to the Saski Hotel. RaczyÅski was among the founding members of the Society and lent his works for its exhibitions. Among the 800 paintings put on display in 1837, he was the owner of works by Wilhelm Schadow, Karl Sohn, and Hermann Stilke. Two years later, RaczyÅski lent Léopold Robertâs famous painting The Reapers to the Society. During the first two exhibitions, RaczyÅski almost certainly had a decisive influence on the selection of the works.50
At the time, RaczyÅski already had a gallery that was open to the public. However, it was not located in PoznaÅ but in Berlin.
3 A Small but Tasteful Picture Gallery
The context in which RaczyÅskiâs gallery functioned in Berlin was completely different from that in PoznaÅ, where his gallery would have been a one-of-a-kind initiative without any rivals.51 In Berlin, however, it would be just one part of an extensive and dense network of artistic and exhibiting institutions. Among these was a museum opened in 1830 to make available to the public the collections previously held in royal residences and an academy that organized cyclical exhibitions. There were also many artistsâ studios, antique shops, and private collections of different sizes with varying levels of public access, some of which enjoyed a high public profile and an established position on the cultural map of the capital city. Leopold von Zedlitz-Neukirch described them in 1834, shortly before the opening of RaczyÅskiâs gallery:
Berlin is home to many wealthy private individuals with beautiful collections of paintings, engravings, antiquities, and weapons. The collection of his excellency Mr. Nagler, head of the post office, is excellent both in terms of the variety of objects and their value. Among the distinctive items in his collection are many autographs and other literary rarities. It is with great pleasure that visitors and locals admire Count von Rossâs collection, which, displayed in beautifully decorated rooms, boasts an unusual number of Persian, Indian, Chinese, and Japanese objects, works made of gold, silver, mother of pearl, amber, and ivory â some of which are inlaid with precious stones â as well as furniture and valuable fabrics. When it comes to private picture galleries, the banker M. Wolffâs picture gallery stands out. The picture gallery of the banker and consul Wagener is equally grand and impressive, though he owns beautiful paintings of living masters only. The collections of the banker von Halle and the merchant Thiermann are also exquisite but small. The collections of paintings and engravings owned by the Arnous brothers (traders), the banker Bendemann, Geheimrat Beuth, city councillor Friedländer, Count von Redern, and the widow von Lilienern, as well as the pharmacist Roseâs collection of engravings, etc., are also worth a visit. To this group we should add General Minutolliâs collection, which boasts paintings and Egyptian artefacts as well as antiquities from other parts of the world.52
In Berlin around the year 1830, institutions publicly exhibiting art were but a small part of a much larger artistic milieu, comprising painters, sculptors, and architects, many of whom had ties with the Royal Art Academy and the Building Academy, as well as scholars, experts, and critics.53 Some scholars, such as Gustav Friedrich Waagen (the first director of the Berlin Gemälegalerie) and Karl Friedrich von Rumohr, were highly renowned experts. From the outset (i.e. from 1810), the theory and history of art were included in the university curriculum and was allotted a Chair in the Faculty of Philosophy. In the 1830s, lectures on the history of art were given by Aloys Hirt (associated with the university from its establishment until 1836), Heinrich Gustav Hotho (who also published Lectures on Aesthetics by his teacher Georg Wilhelm Hegel), and Franz Kugler.54 The art market was thriving, thanks in large part to Louis Friedrich Sachse, who not only traded in art but also introduced in Prussia a new technique for making large-scale lithographic reproductions of paintings.55 In 1825, the Society of Friends of Art (Verein der Kunstfreunde im preuÃischen Staate) was founded by members of artistic circles close to Wilhelm von Humboldt. Almost twenty years later, the Society had nearly 2,500 members. All of this proves that the art scene in Berlin was indeed lively. This provided the context for RaczyÅskiâs activity in the field of art after 1834.
RaczyÅski quickly found a distinguished place for himself in the art scene, or more precisely â the gallery scene of the Prussian capital. From the early 1840s to the 1870s, his collection, first exhibited in an annexe to his house at Unter den Linden, and then in his palace at Exercierplatz, was described in travel guides as one of the most important art collections open to the public in Berlin. In 1842, Louis Weyl mentioned it among eight private galleries âthat visitors and locals can visit at certain times,â and listed 51 works on display in it.56 Similarly, in an extensive and punctilious description of Berlin institutions holding exhibitions from 1856, Max Schasler devotes much attention to âCount RaczyÅskiâs gallery of paintings.â57 It is also mentioned in Karl Baedekerâs guidebook from 1855, Hermann Alexander Müllerâs guidebook from 1857, Hans Wachenhusenâs guidebook from 1859, Friedrich Morinâs guidebook from 1860, Robert Springerâs guidebook from 1861 (which also includes an illustration of RaczyÅskiâs palace), K.L. Kappâs guidebooks from 1869 and 1871, and others.58 RaczyÅskiâs museum was also recommended in foreign guidebooks, including in subsequent editions (from the ninth edition, published in 1853) of John Murrayâs popular travel guide.59 After RaczyÅskiâs death â until the palace was demolished â the gallery continued to be recognized internationally. An engraving and a brief description of it were published, for example, by Henry Vizetelly in his socio-cultural portrait of Berlin from 1879.60
The growing success of RaczyÅskiâs gallery â the poet Heinrich Stieglitz devoted an extensive and enthusiastic passage to it in his poem Gruà an Berlin61 in 1838 and Princess Dorothea von Dino two years later in her diary called it âthe best private collection in Berlinâ62 â came about as the result of several factors. Firstly, the collection was from the outset displayed in a separate and carefully designed room. It was in a close and symbolic relationship with the Countâs residence, though architecturally and ideologically distinct from it. Secondly, since its first days, the collection had been made widely available to the public. Its public nature was emphasized by a printed catalogue, the first edition of which was published in 1838, with subsequent updated editions being issued in later years. These two characteristics gave RaczyÅskiâs gallery a quasi-museum character (Stieglitz simply calls it âa private museumâ) and situated it along with the royal and princely collections and those of Joachim Heinrich Wagener, Pierre Louis Ravené (from 1850), and a few others, in the small and prestigious group of galleries of the mid-nineteenth century which though privately owned were also public spaces. It was this fact, more than the quality of the works on display, that distinguished RaczyÅskiâs gallery from the other numerous private galleries in Berlin (in 1842, Louis Weyl listed eight such galleries, while the meticulous Max Schasler several years later listed almost a hundred). RaczyÅskiâs collection was all the more popular because the Count was quick to incorporate new works that excited the audience. The first was the enthusiastically received Battle of the Huns by Wilhelm von Kaulbach, which, according to press reports, âaroused the greatest interest among all art lovers and artists, so that the [gallery] room was packed with visitors each day.â63 A couple of years later, it was followed by the slightly less enthusiastically received Christ in Limbo by Peter von Cornelius.64 It was apparently Kaulbachâs monumental painting that led Princess Dino to express the words of praise for RaczyÅskiâs gallery quoted above, as the remaining works did not seem to suit her tastes. Last but not least: RaczyÅskiâs gallery was accorded recognition by the general public and art experts because in the same year as it opened, the first volume of his monumental and widely discussed History of Modern German Art was published. Athanasius thus made his debut in Berlin simultaneously as a collector and an art expert, which effectively elevated the status of his gallery. As a reviewer of RaczyÅskiâs book wrote in Kunstblatt, the most important German art magazine of the nineteenth century, âRaczyÅski is a happy collector of young artists, endowed with a keen artistic sense, who sees works of art not as a luxury or an object of accidental preference, but as a means of elevating the heart and mind and as a subject for philosophical reflection.â65 All this was taking place as art was becoming increasingly popular in Germany. The same year RaczyÅski opened his gallery, an anonymous author wrote enthusiastically in the magazine Museum: âWe live in a time when universal interest in art is manifesting itself with the greatest liveliness. It has become so popular that it brings to mind the happiest periods in the history of artistic creativity and calls for explicit recognition.â66
RaczyÅskiâs gallery was opened in the summer of 1836. On 2 August, Athanasius wrote in his diary: âMy picture gallery is ready. I finished hanging the paintings yesterday.â67 A few days earlier, several friends from the worlds of art and politics received the following invitations: âOn the third of August, I hope to see my Old Master paintings hanging on the walls. I would be very pleased if you would sit at four oâclock that day at my small round table in the grand hall (which has yet to be completed) to drink to our Kingâs health with a few friends.â68 The dinner party was attended by the sculptor Christian Daniel Rauch, the painters Karl Wilhelm Wach and Carl Joseph Begas, university professor of literature Friedrich Heinrich von der Hagen (who at the time was translating RaczyÅskiâs work on German art), and the director of the royal picture gallery Gustav Friedrich Waagen. Friedrich Rumohr was also invited but could not come. Thus, on 3 August 1836, on the birthday of Frederick William III and among toasts in his honour, RaczyÅskiâs, in his own words âsmall but tasteful picture galleryâ was opened at 21 Unter den Linden.69
I am not recalling this occasion merely as an amusing detail. The inauguration ceremony had its significance. RaczyÅskiâs inviting just a handful of guests, mainly artists and people from the world of art, shows that although the gallery was open to the public, it was primarily intended for art lovers and experts. Furthermore, the fact that the opening ceremony coincided with the Kingâs birthday was also certainly no accident. RaczyÅski surely planned to hold the event on this date in order to place the opening not only in a public context, but also an official, state context.
The gallery building and its arrangement can be precisely reconstructed based on diary entries, gallery catalogues, and reliable iconographic sources, such as a situational sketch made by RaczyÅski in a letter to Karl Friedrich Schinkel (Fig. 121) and a painting by Adolf Hennig (see Fig. 9). It contained a rectangular room that measured about twenty by eight metres and was roughly six metres high. The walls were painted red with a faux marble plinth at the bottom and a stucco cornice decorated with delicate ornaments at the top. This was complemented by a simple profiled portal frame on the side of one of the longer walls (Fig. 122). On the wall opposite the entrance, between the windows, three large paintings of Old Masters were hung: Canalettoâs Election of StanisÅaw II August of Poland at Wola, Bernardo Strozziâs Abduction of Europa, and Jacopo Bassanoâs Venus in the Forge of Vulcan. Wilhelm Kaulbachâs monumental Battle of the Huns was to be displayed on one of the side walls, to the left of the entrance. Its counterpart on the right-hand side was to be an authorâs replica of a great and widely discussed painting by Carl Friedrich Lessing depicting Jan Hus Before the Council of Constance.70 These spectacular works by followers of Germanyâs two leading art schools â Munich (Kaulbach) and Dusseldorf (Lessing) â were meant to gaze at one another as if engaging in a dialogue. This was a very bold and timely idea because the relationship between the two schools was one of the key subjects of German artistic criticism in the second quarter of the nineteenth century. The Munich and Dusseldorf schools, which both traced their roots to the same source (the paintings of the Nazarenes), were presented as being engaged in a heated debate, with each school bringing to the fore very different and, in some sense, opposing artistic ideals, which can be expressed in such binary oppositions as drawing versus colour, content versus visual appeal, heroism versus sentimentality, epicity versus lyricism, etc.71 This opposition was all the more piquant since Lessing with his Hussite paintings was presenting himself as some sort of artistic dissident, going beyond the principles formulated by the Dusseldorf Academy and shaking things up on the German art scene.72
Athanasius RaczyÅski, The Gallery Building at Unter den Linden 21, sketch in a letter to Karl Friedrich Schinkel, dated 24 January 1834
Staatliche Museen zu Berlin, inv no. SMB-ZA, IV-NL Schinkel 154
Reconstruction of the walls and placement of paintings in RaczyÅskiâs first gallery in Berlin, set up in his home at Unter den Linden 21
made by MichaÅ Mencfel
RaczyÅski, however, managed to implement his idea only in part. While The Battle of the Huns was put on display in the gallery in September 1837, RaczyÅski ultimately decided not to acquire Lessingâs painting due to the high asking price. Instead, another monumental painting, namely Peter Corneliusâs Christ in Limbo, would later function as a kind of replacement. This painting was also placed in dialogue with The Battle of the Huns, though the aim was no longer to contrast differences between the two schools (both Cornelius and Kaulbach were members of the Munich school) but rather to compare works by the most prominent members of two generations of the same school.73
The remaining paintings, some 25 in total, were arranged in two rows along the entrance wall. RaczyÅski placed them in accordance with very clear rules that represented a compromise between pragmatic, aesthetic, art-historical considerations. Large paintings were hung on the upper row; smaller ones were hung on the bottom row, at roughly eye-level. The works were arranged according to topographic, chronological, and (in part) thematic criteria, although these criteria were often subordinated to the demands of favourable context and visual appeal. Both Italian artists and Northern European masters were displayed together. Old Masters and contemporary painters, in turn, were hung separately. The exhibition was to be âreadâ from left to right. The opening image was Sandro Botticelliâs Madonna Among the Angels in the upper row. A sequence of Italian religious paintings (including Bergognoneâs Madonna and St. Christopher and St. George, Innocenzo de Imolaâs Holy Family, Sermonetaâs Pietà , and Domenichinoâs Madonna and Child) followed. On the bottom row, from the left, were several Netherlandish religious paintings (attributed by RaczyÅski not without hesitation to Hans Baldung, Jan van Scorel, and Quentin Massys), followed by a group of small Italian religious works (including The Holy Family from the Belliniâs workshop and Franciaâs The Holy Family), mythological paintings (Garofaloâs Jupiter and Io), portraits (Portrait of Cosimo deâMedici from the Bronzino school), and genre scenes (Sofonisbaâs Chess Game). Paintings by contemporary German and French artists (Victor Schnezâs Youth of Pope Sixtus V, Hermann Stilkeâs Pilgrims in the desert, Theodor Hildebrandtâs Murder of the Sons of Edward IV, Léopold Robertâs Reapers, and Julius Schnorr von Carolsfeldâs Song of the Nibelung) were hung on the right. This arrangement was rounded off by family portraits at the top (the portrait of Anetta RaczyÅska painted by Karl Wilhelm Wach and a portrait of RaczyÅskiâs son Karol, which was added later). Friedrich Overbeckâs Sposalizio and, apparently, Wachâs Christ and the Pharisees were in the bottom row.
With its division into Italian and Northern European paintings and general respect for chronological order, RaczyÅskiâs gallery was organized following the rules governing most contemporary exhibiting institutions at the time. As we have seen, the paintings in the Berlin museum were arranged according to similar principles.74 Perhaps RaczyÅski also borrowed the idea of selecting a spectacular work as the starting point for the exhibition from the Berlin Museum. In the museum, this role was played by paintings by Antonello da Messina (for the Italian works) and Jan van Eyck (for the Netherlandish paintings). In RaczyÅskiâs gallery, this role was played by Botticelliâs tondo. As we can recall, Athanasius was critical of the Berlin Museum and questioned its strict (or, according to RaczyÅski, too strict) organizational criteria. However, this did not mean that he could not find inspiration in a prestigious royal institution. The relationship between RaczyÅskiâs gallery and the Berlin Museum was visible, for instance, in the roomâs decoration. The main rooms of the Royal Museum were covered with burgundy wallpaper (with an intricate floral motif) with a dark green faux marble plinth at the bottom, and a gilded profiled cornice at the top.75 The interior design of RaczyÅskiâs gallery was very similar; it was certainly partly because Karl Friedrich Schinkel designed both buildings. However, the thought that his gallery called to mind Berlinâs most important exhibiting institution must have appealed to Athanasius.
RaczyÅskiâs collection was on display in the gallery at Unter den Linden for over a decade and also after the house was sold in December 1841. In the contract signed with the new owner, RaczyÅski reserved the right to use the gallery for the following six years until a new exhibition room was ready.76 Even after the six years had elapsed, it did not cease to function as a gallery. As in PoznaÅ, RaczyÅskiâs gallery in Berlin was used by the Society of Art Lovers, Verein der Kunstfreunde im Preussischen Staate. From autumn 1845, the Society held its exhibitions in RaczyÅskiâs old gallery building.77
4 The Museum: 2 Exercierplatz
As the collection grew, RaczyÅski decided to build a new and more magnificent palace to house his newly acquired works of art. During a meeting with Frederick William IV on 14 March 1842, the monarch offered to let a plot of land to Athanasius at 2 Exercise Square (Exercierplatz), later called Royal Square (Königsplatz, today Platz der Republik), for the construction of a new residence to house his gallery. In documents from this time, the words âmuseumâ and âpicture galleryâ are used no less frequently than the word âpalaceâ to describe the new building. The fact that RaczyÅskiâs palace was also a museum was ultimately confirmed following its expansion in the 1860s. The sculptural decoration on the facade of the new wings was significant in this respect. Following the example of many museums, including the museums of sculpture and painting in Munich and Berlin,78 full-sized statues of artists were placed atop the crowning balustrade. The terracotta statues were designed by different sculptors and made by the March company in Berlin. They depicted the contemporary German artists valued highly by RaczyÅski (from left to right): Peter Cornelius, Johann Friedrich Overbeck, Wilhelm Kaulbach, Asmus Jakob Carstens, Christian Daniel Rauch, Karl Friedrich Schinkel, Bertel Thorvaldsen, and Wilhelm Schadow.79 In this way, RaczyÅski not only made it clear that the art collection contained within was a defining feature of the new building but also proposed an aesthetic profile for the collection in the form of a canon of contemporary German artists. Consequently, the building that was erected could be described, following Zofia Ostrowska-KÄbÅowska, as a residence-museum.80
The new gallery was located on the third floor of RaczyÅskiâs palace (Fig. 123).81 It was finally opened in 1852 after RaczyÅski had returned to Berlin from his diplomatic mission in Spain. The gallery was initially open to the public for two hours a day, between noon and 2 PM, and later, four hours, between 11 AM and 3 PM.82 A small fee was charged at the entrance. The gallery soon became one of the most popular and successful private museums in the Prussian capital. The English writer George Eliot, for example, considered visiting RaczyÅskiâs gallery and viewing his âsmall but very choice collection of picturesâ to be âone of the greatest art-pleasuresâ during her stay in Berlin in March 1855.83
Franz Alexander Borchel and Joseph Maximilian Kolb, Eine Partie am ehemaligen Exercierplatz in Berlin, RaczyÅskiâs Palace-Gallery on the right, coloured steel engraving, 1854
Landesarchiv Berlin, F Rep. 250-01, Nr. C 206-2
Max Schasler described the gallery in 1856 as follows: âThere are some 130 paintings in the gallery. They are ordered by schools and divided into five main groups. When one enters the gallery [in fact, the palace], one can see stained-glass windows, in part old, in part new. At the top of the stairs, on the upper balustrade, there is a beautiful marble statue of Ganymede by Thorvaldsen. There is a large hall, about 24 feet high, with a timber roof truss. It is divided into two rooms by a low wall that does not reach the ceiling. Tall windows and a window in the roof let in a fine and strong overhead light that is excellent for viewing the paintings.â84 To supplement this description, we could add that the windows â three in each room â had a northern aspect and were located in the upper part of the room.
A typical visit would have looked as follows: a visitor who arrived at the palace in the afternoon hours first addressed himself to the doorman. He then paid the entrance fee (in 1868, it was seven silver groschen) and received a catalogue to the collection, which was included in the fee. Next, he ascended the staircase, which was beautifully illuminated by the stained-glass windows and decorated with frescoes depicting Sybils and an Allegory of the Arts, designed by Kaulbach.85 Once he reached the third floor in the company of a servant, he could admire the graceful sculpture of Ganymede on the balustrade. He then entered the gallery through a side door.
Unfortunately, we are not able to reconstruct fully the design of the room and the arrangement of the paintings. We should not assume that the works were hung on the walls in exactly the same order in which they were listed in the catalogues compiled by RaczyÅski or in Schaslerâs extensive inventory, but the order was certainly at least partly consistent with these source documents. A sketch made by RaczyÅski in 1859 showing a section of a gallery wall and the planned arrangement of paintings on it demonstrates that the Count wished to coordinate the exhibition parameters (the viewing conditions, the sizes and formats of works, the reasons for determining which works should be displayed next to other works, etc.) with the means of classifying paintings (Fig. 124). The classifications were as follows: contemporary German painting, divided into regional schools; old Italian, German, Spanish, and Netherlandish painting; and modern French and Netherlandish painting. Was this system indeed followed? According to Joachim de Vasconcellos, who visited the gallery in 1871, at least in later years, this classification system was not followed. The Portuguese author wrote that âthe walls of both rooms were literally covered with canvases of different schools which were promiscuously arranged (dispostas promiscuamente), undoubtedly due to limited space.â86 There was simply not enough room to hold this collection of almost 160 paintings. Moreover, as I have already mentioned, an integral part of the collection was an art history library and documents relating to RaczyÅskiâs activities as a collector.
Athanasius RaczyÅski, Sketch of the Placement of Works Exhibited in RaczyÅskiâs Gallery, 1859, drawing in Libri Veritatis, vol. 47b, p. 937
National Museum in PoznaÅ, inv. no. MNP MNPA-1414-47b
As mentioned earlier, the Berlin palace and collection were added to the entail in 1847. The first paragraph of the foundation document of 22 May 1847 reads: âas a special part of the estate, the museum I erected in Berlin in front of the Brandenburg Gate should be included and incorporated into it [the entail], along with the works of art on display in it, which are listed in Annexe C.â The existence and integrity of the collection thus seemed secure. But only to a limited extent as the continued functioning of the gallery in the future was expressed as a wish and not as an obligation. In a special note to Annexe C, the Count wished that the museum remain open to the public (âhowever, I will not impose such an obligation on myself or my successorsâ), open to artists who might wish to copy the works displayed within it (âhowever, only if they do so without taking the pictures home or removing them from their designated locationâ). He also wished the paintings to be lent for exhibitions only in exceptional cases (âbecause the paintings could be damaged in the process and the gallery could lose its integrityâ).87
In 1879, Athanasius RaczyÅskiâs heirs sold the plot of land in the Royal Square and the palace to the German state. When the decision was made to demolish the residence, the future of the collection housed there was called into question. The conditions of the entail created in 1854 imposed on successive holders of the entailed estate the obligation to maintain the gallery as a public institution in Berlin. This obligation, in turn, resulted from the terms of the contract concluded in 1847 between RaczyÅski and royal proxies regarding the use of the land on which the palace was built (the plot of land was a gift from the monarch). As a result of negotiations conducted in the early 1880s by Karol, Athanasiusâ son, heir, and current owner of the entailed estate, with representatives of the Prussian administration, it was agreed that the collection should be lent to the state for twenty years and displayed in the National Gallery in Berlin.88 This agreement, the so-called Verwahrungs- und Verwaltungsvertrag, was concluded on 7 September 1882. While the legal proceedings took several years to complete, the museum took possession of the collection on 2 April 1883 (except for seven paintings, mostly family portraits which were excluded from the entail in September 1885). It was exhibited in five rooms on the third floor of the Nationalgalerie at the beginning of the following year. Count RaczyÅskiâs family crest was placed above the entrance to the first room. A new catalogue for the collection was prepared by Lionel von Donop in the form of a booklet prefaced by a biographical note on the collectionâs creator.89 At the beginning of the twentieth century, when the twenty-year contract obliging the state to maintain the collection was due to expire, the artworksâ future was once again in doubt. The museum was no longer interested in the collection (with the exception of Botticelliâs Madonna with Child and Singing Angels) and did not plan to renew the agreement. âThe nineteenth-century paintings in the collection,â the Kultusminister Affairs Konrad von Studt explained in a letter to Emperor Wilhelm II in 1901, âare not nearly as good as the works in the National Gallery, while the older paintings, separated from the paintings in the Royal Picture Gallery, do not receive due recognition in an environment alien to them.â90 RaczyÅskiâs collection thus fell victim to a fundamental re-evaluation of nineteenth-century art and to the changes taking place at that time in collecting culture. In spite of changes made to the arrangement of the works in the collection in 1883, this seemed archaic. As noted in an anonymous report from 1902, âas a whole, it no longer holds the meaning it once did for artistic life in the capital.â91 While the collection seemed archaic in Berlin, we read in the report that it could play an important cultural role in provincial PoznaÅ, which was âlacking in art treasures.â Under an agreement concluded on 14 March 1903 between the current inheritor of the Obrzycko entail and the owner of the collection Sigismund Raczynski, the Prussian Ministry for Clergy, Education and Sanitation, and the National Starostwo of the PoznaÅ Province,92 the collection (191 objects in total) was moved from Berlin to the new provincial museum in PoznaÅ (Fig. 125). Established in 1894, the museum was renamed the Kaiser-Friedrich-Museum in 1902. Under Polish rule, the museum was renamed the Wielkopolska Museum, and today it functions as the National Museum in PoznaÅ. The Museum still holds the collection as a deposit of the RaczyÅski Foundation. Thus, after many vicissitudes, Athanasiusâ collection has finally found itself in the city for which it was initially intended.
Athanasius RaczyÅskiâs Picture Collection in the Kaiser-Friedrich-Museum in Poznan, 1904, postcard
University Library in PoznaÅ
See: Christoph Martin Vogtherr, âDas Königliche Museum zu Berlin. Planungen und Konzeptionen des Ersten Berliner Kunstmuseums,â Jahrbuch der Berliner Museen, Neue Folge 39, Beiheft (1997); Idem, âDie Auswahl von Gemälden aus den preuÃischen Königsschlössern für die Berliner Gemäldegalerie im Jahr 1829,â Jahrbuch der Berliner Museen, Neue Folge 47 (2005), 63â76; Hermann Lübbe, âWilhelm von Humboldt und die Berliner Museumsgründung 1830,â Jahrbuch PreuÃischer Kulturbesitz XVII (1981), 87â109; Elsa von Wezel, âDie Konzeptionen des Alten und Neuen Museum zu Berlin und das sich wandelnde historische Bewusstsein,â Jahrbuch der Berliner Museen, Neue Folge 43, Beiheft (2001); Thomas W. Gaehtgens, âAltes Museum, Berlin: Building Prussiaâs First Modern Museum,â in Carole Paul, ed., The first modern museums of art: the birth of an institution in 18th- and early 19th-century Europe (Los Angeles: Paul Getty Museum, 2012), 285â303.
Athanasius RaczyÅski, Geschichte der neueren deutschen Kunst, vol. 3, 18â19.
See texts included in: Albert Meier, Alessandro Costazza and Gérard Laudin, eds., Kunstreligion. Ein ästhetisches Konzept der Moderne in seiner historischen Entfaltung, Band 1. Der Ursprung des Konzepts um 1800 (Berlin-Boston: De Gruyter, 2011), and in particular: Detering, Heinrich. âWas ist Kunstreligion? Systematische und historische Bemerkungen,â in Kunstreligion, 11â27.
On the reorganization of the gallery in Vienna, see Debora J. Meijersâ excellent study Kunst als Natur. Die Habsburger Gemäldegalerie in Wien um 1780, übersetzt von Rosi Wiegmann, (Wien: Skira, 1995). Also: Anette Schryen, âDie k. k. Bilder-Galerie im Oberen Belvedere in Wien,â in Bénédicte Savoy, ed., Tempel der Kunst. Die Entstehung des öffentlichen Museums in Deutschland 1701â1815 (Mainz am Rhein: Zabern, 2006), 279â308; Debora J. Meijers, âClassification as a Principle. The Transformation of the Vienna K.K. Bildergalerie into a âVisible History of Artâ (1772â1781),â in Annemarie Gethmann-Siefert, Bernadette Collenberg-Plotnikov and Elisabeth Weisser-Lohmann, eds., Kunst als Kulturgut. Band II. âKunstâ und âStaatâ (München: Wilhalem Fink Verlag, 2011), 161â180; Karl Schütz, âDie Einrichtung der Wiener Gemäldegalerie durch Christian von Mechel,â in Annemarie Gethmann-Siefert, Bernadette Collenberg-Plotnikov, Elisabeth Weisser-Lohmann, eds., Kunst als Kulturgut. Band II, 145â159; Nora Fischer, âKunst nach Ordnung, Auswahl und System. Transformationen der Kaiserlichen Gemäldegalerie in Wien im späten 18. Jahrhundert,â in Gudrun Swoboda, ed., Die kaiserliche Gemäldegalerie in Wien und die Anfänge des öffentlichen Kunstmuseums, vol. 1: Die Kaiserliche Galerie im Wiener Belvedere (1776â1837) (Wien â Köln â Weimar: Böhlau, 2013), 23â89.
See: Lucas Heinrich Wüthrich, Christian von Mechel. Leben und Werk eines Basler Kupferstechers und Kunsthändlers (1737â1817) (Basel-Stuttgart: Hembing & Lichtenhahn, 1956).
Christian Mechel, Verzeichnis der Gemälde der Kaiserlich Königlichen Bilder Gallerie in Wien verfaÃt von Christian von Mechel der Kaiserl. Königl. und anderer Akademien Mitglied nach der von ihm auf Allerhöchsten Befehl im Jahre 1781 gemachten neuen Einrichtung (Wien, 1783), XIIâXIII.
Johann Anton Riedel, Christian Friedrich Wenzel, Catalogue des tableaux de la Galerie Electorale à Dresde (Dresden: H. Hagenmuller, 1765).
This tendency proved to be long lived: it was not widely questioned until recent decades, when in the wake of changing expectations among the public and the so-called new museology, it faced a thorough critical reassessment.
Christoph Martin Vogtherr, âDas Königliche Museum zu Berlin,â 39.
Christoph Martin Vogtherr, âDas Königliche Museum zu Berlin,â 115â123.
See Horst Bredekamp and Adam S. Labuda, âKunstgeschichte, Universität, Museum und die Mitter Berlins 1810â1873,â in Horst Bredekamp and Adam S. Labuda, eds., In der Mitte Berlins. 200 Jahre Kunstgeschichte an der Humboldt-Universität (âBerlinâ Gebr. Mann Verlag, 2010), 25â49.
Cited from: Christoph Martin Vogtherr, âDas Königliche Museum zu Berlin,â 61.
For more on this subject: Rainer Michaelis, Christoph Martin Vogtherr, âDie erste Anordnung der Gemäldegalerie im Alten Museum 1830,â in Kunst als Kulturgut. Band II, 227â247.
DIARY, 13 May 1841.
DIARY, 3 November 1843.
Athanasius RaczyÅski, Geschichte der neueren deutschen Kunst, vol. 1, 31â32.
Cited from: James J. Sheehan, Museums in the German Art World. From the End of the Old Regime to the Rise of Modernism (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000), 8.
Athanasius RaczyÅski, Geschichte der neueren deutschen Kunst, vol. 3, 15â16.
Athanasius RaczyÅski, Geschichte der neueren deutschen Kunst, vol. 1, 31.
Zofia Ostrowska-KÄbÅowska, âGaleria Atanazego RaczyÅskiego,â 18.
Athanasius RaczyÅski, Geschichte der neueren deutschen Kunst, vol. 3, 434.
A transcript of Raczynskiâs speech is contained in his diary: DIARY, 14 November 1859.
Athanasius RaczyÅski, Geschichte der neueren deutschen Kunst, vol. 3, 17.
Pia Müller-Tamm, âRumohrs Verhältnis zur Kunst seiner Zeit,â in Annemarie Gethmann-Siefert, Bernadette Collenberg-Plotnikov and Elisabeth Weisser-Lohmann, eds., Kunst als Kulturgut. Band III. Musealisierung und Reflexion (München: Wilhalem Fink Verlag, 2011), 87â98, esp. 87.
Helmut Börsch-Supan, âDie âGeschichte der neueren deutschen Kunstâ von Athanasius Graf RaczyÅski,â 19.
Wilhelm von Schadow, Der moderne Vasari. Erinnerungen aus dem Künstlerleben. Novelle (Berlin: Hertz, 1854), 118â121.
Unfortunately, documentation concerning the history of the PoznaÅ gallery is scarce: a few remarks are found in letters between the brothers and the modest correspondence between Athanasius and the architect Karl Friedrich Schinkel, preserved among Athanasiusâ notes (LV, vol. 47a: Correspondenz mit Künstlern und Kunsthändlern, Belege, Notizen, Manuskripte, MNP, MNPA 1414/47a, pp. 693â699). There are as well as two iconographic sources, a drawing by Julius Minutoli and a more detailed drawing in Edward RaczyÅskiâs Memoirs of Wielkopolska. The building itself ceased to exist and the design drawings have been lost as well.
APP, Majatek Rogalin, 68, no. 1â2.
Edward Lubomirski bequeathed to Athanasius âall drawings and engravings in Warsaw, Dubno and Radzymin.â
See a file from the former archive in RogaliÅ containing documents related to the inheritance proceedings conducted by Edward RaczyÅski after the death of Prince Edward Lubomirski, contains materials relating to, among other things, bequests of assets, the construction of a church in Radzymin, the sale of his estate in Radzymin and the establishment of an ophthalmic hospital in Warsaw; APP, Majatek Rogalin, 68.
Edward Lubomirski, Rys statystyczny i polityczny Anglii przez Edwarda Xcia Lubomirskiego (DzieÅo pogrobowe) (PoznaÅ: W. Decker i Kompania, 1829).
Tygodnik ilustrowany, no. 282, 18 February 1865, 60â62 (the article contains an illustration depicting the hospital).
Letter to Edward RaczyÅski dated 30 December 1827: APP, MajÄ tek Rogalin, 76, p. 206.
On the history of the palace and library see: Zofia Ostrowska-KÄbÅowska, Architektura i budownictwo w Poznaniu w latach 1780â1880 (PoznaÅ: Wydawnictwo Miejskie, 2009), 192â203; Tadeusz J. Å»uchowski, âBiblioteka w Poznaniu â fundacja i forma architektonicznaâ in Adam S. Labuda, MichaÅ Mencfel and Wojciech Suchocki, eds., Edward i Atanazy RaczyÅscy. DzieÅa â osobowoÅci âwybory â epoka, 162â179.
On the museum-library tradition see: Jörg-Ulrich Fechner, âDie Einheit von Bibliothek und Kunstkammer im 17. und 18. Jahrhundert, dargestellt an Hand zeitgenössischer Berichte,â in Paul Raabe, ed., Ãffentliche und Private Bibliotheken im 17. und 18. Jahrhundert. Raritätenkammern, Forschungsinstitute oder Bildungsstätten? (Bremen und Wolfenbüttel: Jacobi, 1977), 11â31.
Letter from Edward RaczyÅski to Athanasius dated 30 January 1829; BR, PoznaÅ, ms 4223, pp. 14â15.
Letter from Edward RaczyÅski to Athanasius, undated, from late February or early March 1829, APP, MajÄ tek Rogalin, 78, pp. 17â19.
Letter to Edward RaczyÅski dated 5 July 1829; APP, Majatek Rogalin, 78, p. 45.
On the galleryâs architecture see: Zofia Ostrowska-KÄbÅowska, Architektura i budownictwo w Poznaniu, 203â207; Eva Börsch-Supan, Karl Friedrich Schinkel. Die Provinzen Ost- und WestpreuÃen und GroÃherzogtum Posen (München-Berlin: Deutscher Kunstverlag, 2003), 143â145.
Eva Börsch-Supan, Karl Friedrich Schinkel, 144.
Marceli Motty described the gallery building as follows: âThe building was in fact built and furnished [the rooms holding the paintings â M.M] especially for this purpose; I was there several times and saw inside two large, high rooms with large windows; there were some small rooms on the low ground floor;â Marceli Motty, Przechadzki po mieÅcie, 138.
Letter to Edward RaczyÅski dated 18 March 1828; APP, MajÄ tek Rogalin, 77, pp. 237â238.
Letter from Edward RaczyÅski to Athanasius from ca. 15 October 1832; APP, MajÄ tek Rogalin, 78, pp. 374â376.
RaczyÅski paid a substantial sum of 5300 florins for the Caneletto painting and 600 for the gouache by OrÅowski; both works were purchased from Aleksander BniÅskiâs widow, Duchess Maria née Radziwill (see LV: Canaletto, MNP, MNPA 1414/3). The auction mentioned by Edward of paintings and artistic objects from the estate of Baron Paul Mohrenheim took place in Warsaw on 4 March 1834 (see Korespondent, no. 59, 2 March 1834, p. 238); the RaczyÅskis, however, did not take part in the auction.
See: Renate Zedinger, âSammeln, forschen, fördern â Aspekte adeliger Lebensgestaltung im konfessionellen Zeitalter,â in Herbert Knittler, ed., Adel im Wandel. Politik-Kultur-Konfession 1500â1800, exh. cat. (Wien: Amt der NOÌ Landesregierung, 1990), 461â467; Gerrit Walther, âAdel und Antike. Zur politischen Bedeutung gelehrter Kultur für die Führungselite der Frühen Neuzeit,â Historische Zeitschrift 266, H. 2 (1998), 359â385; Karl Siegbert Rehberg, âWeltrepräsentanz und Verkörperung. Institutionelle Analyse und Symboltheorien â Eine Einführung in systematischer Absicht,â in Gert Melville, ed., Institutionalität und Symbolisierung. Verstetigungen kultureller Ordnungsmuster in Vergangenheit und Gegenwart (Köln-Weimar-Wien: Böhlau, 2011), 3â49.
See the studies contained in: Carole Paul, ed., The first modern museums of art. Also: James J. Sheehan, Museums in the German Art World., 14â25.
Germain Bazin, Le temps des Musées (Liège: Desoer, 1967).
Konstancja RaczyÅskaâs comments in a letter to Athanasius dated 27 June 1834 on his decision to abandon the project to open a gallery in Wielkopolska is often quoted (after Zofia Ostrowska-KÄbÅowska) in the literature: âAnd now, dear Mr. Athanasius, I am here in Rogalin, returning happily from Podole. I stopped in PoznaÅ and saw with regret that the PoznaÅ Medicis have halted their progress and there will be no gallery. I heaved a sigh because I donât like disappointments, and I pictured this as something already finished, with you walking among the artists, (â¦) our city, at last, elevated in status, honoured and blessed;â MNPA 1441â48, p. 12. Marceli Motty later ironically commented on RaczyÅskiâs decision in the following words: âMr. Athanasius RaczyÅski, a Prussian diplomat, and later an envoy in Madrid, who devoted heart and soul to the highest court and governmental circles in Prussia, was most likely angry with his fellow countrymen, for whom he never had any weakness, for showing him such rudeness in the 1830s and in exile, and in order to punish them, he abandoned the idea of sending his paintings to PoznaÅ, and ended up giving them to the government or to Berlin, where you have probably seen them more than once;â Marceli Motty, Przechadzki po mieÅcie, 138â139.
Magdalena Warkoczewska, âTowarzystwo Sztuk PiÄknych w Poznaniu w latach 1837â1848. Przyczynek do problemu ksztaÅtowania siÄ mecenatu zbiorowego w pierwszej poÅowie XIX wieku,â Studia Muzealne 9 (1971), 7â20, esp. 10.
Magdalena Warkoczewska, âTowarzystwo Sztuk PiÄknych w Poznaniu,â 12.
A permanent public exhibition of artwork was not established in PoznaÅ until 1881, when the first gallery of the MielżyÅski Museum at the Society of Friends of Science was opened. See: Magdalena Warkoczewska, âZbiory historyczno-artystyczne PoznaÅskiego Towarzystwa PrzyjacióŠNauk do roku 1914,â in Dorota Suchocka, ed., Ars una species mille. 150 dzieÅ na 150-lecie Muzeum Narodowego w Poznaniu ze zbiorów PoznaÅskiego Towarzystwa PrzyjacióŠNauk, exh. cat. (PoznaÅ: Muzeum Narodowe w Poznaniu, 2007), 7â14.
Leopold Freiherr von Zedlitz-Neukirch, Neustes Conversations-Handbuch für Berlin und Potsdam zum täglichen Gebrauch der Einheimischen und Fremden aller Stände (Berlin: A.W. Eisersdorff, 1834), 399â400.
On the character of Berlinâs artistic landscape around 1830 see: Cyrus Hamlin, âPhilosophie der Kunst, Kunstmuseum, Kunstwissenschaft: Die Stadt Berlin um 1830 und danach,â in Kunst als Kulturgut. Band III., 119â137.
See: Horst Bredekamp and Adam S. Labuda, eds., In der Mitte Berlins. 200 Jahre Kunstgeschichte an der Humboldt-Universität.
France Nerlich, Le peinture française en Allemagne 1815â1870, 107â124; Anna Ahrens, âVom âKunstsinn für die Jetztzeit.â Ein Blick auf den Kunstmarkt in Preussen während der 1830er und 1840er Jahre,â in Birgit Verwiebe and Angelika Wesenberg, eds., Die Gründung der Nationalgalerie in Berlin. Der Stifter Wagener und seine Bilder (Köln, Weimar, Wien: Böhlau, 2013), 45â60.
Louis Weyl, Der Führer durch die Kunstsammlungen Berlins. VIII. Privat-Kunstsammlungen. Ein unentbehrlicher Anhang zu allen Beschreibungen und Fremdenführern der Residenz (Berlin: Oehmigke, 1842), 34â37.
Max Schasler, Berlinâs Kunstschätze, Abtheilung II. Die öffentlichen und Privat- Kunstsammlungen, Kunstinstitute und Ateliers der Künstler und Kunstindustriellen von Berlin. Ein praktisches Handbuch zum Besuch des Königlichen Schlosses, des Palais vom Hochseligen Könige, der sämmtlichen öffentlichen Galerien, Sammlungen, Künstlerateliers u.s.f. (Berlin: Nicolai, 1856), 284â292.
Karl Baedeker, Handbuch für Reisende in Deutschland, Mittel- und Nord-Deutschland. Nach eigener Anschauung und den besten Hülfsquellen (Coblenz: K. Beadeker, 1855), 4; Hermann Alexander Müller, Die Museen und Kunstwerke Deutschlands. Ein Handbuch für Reisende und Heimgekehrte, Erster Theil: Norddeutschland (Leipzig: J.J. Weber, 1857), 305â307; Hans Wachenhusen, Illustrierter Fremdenführer durch Berlin und Potsdam. Mit einem Vorwort und einer Schilderung des Berliner Volkslebens (Berlin: J.C. Huber, 1859), 60; Friedrich Morin, Berlin und Potsdam im Jahre 1860. Neuster Führer durch Berlin, Potsdam und Umgebung. Ein Taschenbuch für Fremde und Einheimische (Berlin: Nicolai, 1860), 42â43; Robert Springer, Berlin. Ein Führer durch die Stadt und ihre Umgebungen (Leipzig: J.J. Weber, 1861), 303â304; K.L. Kapp, Kappâs Berlin im Jahre 1869. Neuer und vollständiger Führer mit besonderer Rücksicht auf Verkehr, Handel, Industrie, Kunst u. Oeffentl. Leben (Berlin: K.L. Kapp, 1869), 171â172.
John Murray, A Handbook for Travellers on the Continent: Being a Guide to Holland, Belgium, Prussia, Northern Germany, and the Rhine from Holland to Switzerland, Ninth Edition (London: J. Murray, 1853), 345.
Henry Vizetelly, Berlin under the New empire. Its institutions, inhabitants, industry, monuments, museums, social life, manners, and amusements (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2013), vol. 1, 201.
Heinrich Stieglitz, Gruà an Berlin. Ein Zukunftstraum (Leipzig: F.U. Brockhaus, 1838), 27â29.
Dorothea de Talleyrand-Périgord, Herzogin von Dino, Aus der Chronik der Herzogin von Dino späteren Herzogin von Talleyrand und Sagan 1840â1862, herausgegeben, mit Anmerkungen und biographischem Index versehen von der Fürstin Anton Radziwill geborene von Castellane, einzig autorisierte Uebersetzung von Freiherr von Cramm (Berlin: C.A. Schwetschke und Sohn, 1911), 31 (entry in the DIARY dated 8 June 1840).
Friedrich Förster, âDie Hunnenschlacht. GroÃer Carton von Kaulbach in München (gegenwärtig im Besitze des Grafen RaczyÅski in Berlin),â Ost und West, Blätter für Kunst, Literatur und geselliges Leben, no. 18, 1837, 138â139. Discussions concerning the painting, meticulously compiled by RaczyÅski in his Libri veritatis, also appeared in the following journals: Museum, Blätter für bildende Kunst, no. 40, 2 Okt. 1837, 313â315 (Franz Kuglerâs article âDie Hunnenschlacht. Grosser Carton von Wilhelm Kaulbachâ), Erste Beilage zur Königl. Privilegirten Berlinischen Zeitung, no. 244, 25 Okt. 1837 (Friedrich von der Hagenâs article âDie Hunnenschlachtâ) and in the London daily The Morning Post, 30 Oct. 1837 (an anonymous article entitled âThe Battle of the Ghostsâ), and later, also in Allgemeines Organ für die Interessen des Kunst- und Landkartenhandels, no. 4, 23. Januar 1841, pp. 18â19 (anonymous article entitled âWilhelm Kaulbachâ) and No 40, 1. October 1842, pp. 157â158 (anonymous article entitled âKaulbachâ). See also: Hans Müller, Wilhelm Kaulbach, 319â323.
The press devoted significant attention to this image as well. See e.g.: Kunstblatt, no. 2, Donnerstag, den 4 Januar 1844, 5â7 (M. Ungerâs article âEin Blick auf die Kunstrichtung der alten und neuen Zeit, mit Verziehung auf das neuste Gemälde von Peter von Cornelius: âChristus erscheint in der Vorhölle, um den Geistern, die im Gefängnisse dem Erlöser entgegen haarten, zu predigenâ (1. Brief Petri 3, 19);â his discourse is continued in the following editions: no. 3, Dienstag, den 9 Januar 1844, 9â11; no. 4, Donnerstag, den 11. Januar 1844, 13â15; no. 5, Dienstag, den 19 Januar 1844, 17â18).
Kunstblatt, no. 36, Donnerstag, den 2 Mai 1839, 144.
âUeber die Kunstvereine,â Museum. Blätter für bildende Kunst, no. 11, den 14 März 1836, 81â84.
In a letter sent a few days earlier, on 28 July 1836, to Karl Friedrich Rumohr, RaczyÅski wrote: âMy paintings were sent on the 12th of this month from a village in Galicia [i.e. from Zawada â M.M.] and I am expecting them today or tomorrow. It wonât take me more than four or five days to get them in order;â UBA, Amsterdam, OTM: hs. 86 M 8.
A copy of the invitation for Friedrich Heinrich von der Hagen is found in: BR, PoznaÅ, ms 2729/II, p. 43.
âeine kleine aber gediegene Gemäldesammlung;â from Athanasiusâ letter to Edward RaczyÅski dated 3 August 836; MNP, MNPA 1414â48, pp. 100â101. The address Unter den Linden 21 was already known to Berliners interested in art and had its own connection to art collecting. Before the house was owned by Johann Christoph Lutter, from whom RaczyÅski purchased it, it was the home of an art dealer and collector named Lesser, who was the owner of a âmuseum of art.â See: Valentin Heinrich Schmidt, Wegweiser für Fremde und Einheimische durch Berlin und Potsdam und die umliegende Gegend, enthaltend eine kurze Nachricht von allen daselbst befindlichen Merkwürdigkeiten (Berlin: Nicolai, 1821), 209.
The painting belonged to a series of Lessingâs paintings that were very widely discussed â both for their artistic qualities and their political context (religious unrest in Prussia) â depicting episodes from the history of Hussitism and the life of Jan Hus (The Hussite Sermon, 1836; Jan Hus Before the Council at Constance, 1842; Jan Hus Before the Stake, 1850). RaczyÅski probably saw a sketch for The Hussite Sermon during his stay in Dusseldorf in 1833. For more on these works see: Ingrid Jenderko-Sichelschmidt, Die Historienbilder Carl Friedrich Lessing (Köln, 1973), 28â119; Vera Leuschner, Carl Friedrich Lessing 1808â1880. Die Handzeichnungen (Köln-Weimar-Wien: Böhlau, 1982), 158â193; Elke von Radziewsky. Kunstkritik im Vormärz, 118â125.
Ekkehard Mai, Die deutschen Kunstakademien im 19. Jahrhundert, 132â142; Christian Scholl, Revisionen der Romantik, 104â118.
Christian Scholl, Revisionen der Romantik, 118â129.
Letter to Peter Cornelius dated 7 May 1840: LV, vol. 14: Peter Cornelius, MNP, MNPA 1414/ 14, p. 4.
For a more detailed treatment of this subject see: Rainer Michaelis, Christoph Martin Vogtherr, âDie erste Anordnung der Gemäldegalerie im Alten Museum 1830.â
Rainer Michaelis, Christoph Martin Vogtherr, âDie erste Anordnung der Gemäldegalerie im Alten Museum 1830,â 228â229. A dark red background was also considered appropriate for the presentation of paintings in other important European exhibitionary institutions in the first half of the nineteenth century. During renovation work at the Louvre between 1805 and 1810, most of the rooms had their previously olive-coloured walls repainted dark red. In Germany red painted walls were featured in the Munich-based Alte Pinakothek (opened in 1836), in the Stafford Gallery in England, and since the late 1840s in the National Gallery in London (founded in 1824).
Kunstblatt, no. 23, Dienstag, den 22 März 1842, p. 92; Zeitung für den deutschen Adel, Vierter Jahrgang, no. 12, Februar 1843, p. 34.
Berlinische Nachrichten von Staats- und gelehrten Sachen, no. 231, 15 November 1845.
The walls of Munichâs museum of ancient and contemporary sculpture, known as the Glyptothek, built between 1816 and 1830 at the behest of Ludwig I of Bavaria and designed by Leo von Klenze, were decorated with full-body figures: from the front â ideal and legendary artists and patrons of the arts: Prometheus, Vulcan, Daedalus, Phidias, Pericles, and Hadrian; from the west â masters of Renaissance sculpture: Ghiberti, Donatello, Michelangelo, Benvenuto Cellini, and Giovanni da Bologna; and from the east â contemporary sculptors: Antonio Canova, Bertel Thorvaldsen, Pietro Tenerani, John Gibson, Michael Ludwig Schwanthaler, and Christian Daniel Rauch. Even closer to Raczynskiâs concept was the solution chosen for the decoration of the painting museum, opened in 1836 by Leo von Klenze, the so-called âOld Pinakothekâ (Alte Pinakothek), whose façade was crowned with a balustrade decorated with 24 statues of artists who â in the words of the author of the sculptural programme, Johann Georg von Dillis, âwere responsible for new directions and forward progress in Christian painting.â See: Adrian von Buttlar and Bénédicte Savoy, âGlypothek and Alte Pinakothek, Munich: Museums as Public Monumentsâ in Carole Paul, ed., The first modern museums of art, 304â329, esp. 308 and 325.
Models for the sculptures were provided by: Erdmann Encke, Julius Franz, Alexander Calandrelli, Gustav Blaeser, Friedrich Dracke and Wilhelm Stürmer; all of the statues were made between 1866 and 1869 by the Berlin-based March terracotta company. The figures depicting Carstens, Thorvaldsen, Cornelius and Schadow have been preserved and are kept in the Berlin National Gallery. Documentation on the palace decoration is collected in Volume 45 of Libri veritatis (LV, vol. 45: Statuen an meinem Hause, MNP, MNPA 1414/45). See also: Bernhard Maaz, ed., Nationalgalerie Berlin. Das XIX. Jahrhundert. Bestandskatalog der Skulpturen (Leipzig: A.E. Seemann, 2006), vol. 1, 96, 145, 210â211, 218; and: Katharina Lippold, Berliner Terrakottakunst des 19. Jahrhunderts, 180.
Zofia Ostrowska-KÄbÅowska, âSiedziby-muzea. Ze studiów nad architekturÄ XIX w. w Wielkopolsce,â 98â106.
For more on the gallery see: Elise F. Grauer, âBridging the Gap â Count Athanazy RaczyÅski and His Galleries in Poland and Prussia,â 24â35.
Max Schasler, Berlinâs Kunstschätze, 284; K.L. Kapp, Kappâs Berlin im Jahre 1869, 172.
George Eliot, The Journals of George Eliot, edited by Margaret Harris and Judith Johnston (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998), 254.
Max Schasler, Berlinâs Kunstschätze, 284.
Produced in the latter half of the 1850s by Michael Echter, Wilhelm Peters, and Julius Detmers, the frescos depicted two sybils, one according to a drawing by Friedrich Overbeck, the other according to a fresco by Michelangelo, and a scene depicting the Allegory of Arts, designed by Wilhelm Kaulbach; Die Dioskuren. Zeitschrift für Kunst, Kunstindustrie und künstlerisches Leben, Jahrgang I, no. 10, 15 Aug. 1856, 98.
Joaquim de Vasconcellos, Conde de Raczynski (Athanasius), 18.
Abschrift der Fideicommiss-Stiftungsurkunde des Wyszyner Majorats und Annexen A bis H, BR, PoznaÅ, no. 2726.
A set of documents concerning this matter, including copies of relevant documents from years 1847â1903 are found in: GStA, Berlin, HA Rep. 84a, Justizministerium, no. 45518, pp. 131â133 oraz 212â255. Extensive documentation is also found in: SMB, Berlin, I/NG 1013â1014.
Lionel von Donop, Verzeichniss der Gräflich Raczynskiâschen Kunstsammlungen.
Letter (presumably) from Konrad von Studt to Kaiser Wilhelm II dated 10 September 1901 in: GStA, Berlin, I HA Rep. 89 Geh. Zivilkabinett no. 31049, pp. 78â81.
Denkschrift betreffend die Gräflich Raczynskiâsche Gemäldesammlung, September 1902, in: GStA, Berlin, HA Rep. 84a, Justizministerium, no. 45518, pp. 212â218.
See: Marian Gumowski, âHistorja zbiorów Muzeum Wlkp. (z 3-ma anneksami: UmowÄ z 1898 r., ze statutem z 1899 r. i umowÄ co do galerji RaczyÅskich z 1903 r.) z 2 tabl,â Muzeum Wielkopolskie w Poznaniu. Rocznik I (1925), 5â26, esp. 8, a reprint of the contract is found on pp. 20â26; Idem, Galerja obrazów A. hr. RaczyÅskiego, 12â13.