Biography

Discussion

Paul Citroen—’the best painter on the Oostdorperweg [a street in Amsterdam]’, as he jokingly referred to himself—was an artist in heart and soul. Having led a long and fruitful life, he left an extensive and varied oeuvre behind. His greatest passions were painting and drawing. Although he often referred to his early Dadaistic oeuvre as ‘drivel’ and ‘folly’, Citroen possessed enough of a historical awareness to avoid dismissing an appreciation for this early oeuvre. Vanity also surely played a role in this. In addition to being an artist, Citroen was as well a passionate collector. With his astute and trained eye, he recognised quality immediately. Citroen’s artistic diversity, amicable interaction with others, and sense of humour were what made him a unique personality.

Paul Citroen received his education at the Studien-Atelier für Malerei und Plastik (‘Study Studio for Painting and Sculpture’) in Berlin. The lessons taught at this school were proper and traditional, based on the pedagogical principles of Wilhelm von Schadow developed in 1826. The study comprised three stages: basic instruction, in which drawings and engravings were copied; a secondary phase, in which students made drawings of plaster models and from nature; and a final stage in which students were free to develop their own creativity. Citroen’s study material included works by two Berlin masters of graphic art: Max Liebermann and Adolf Menzel. From Liebermann, Citroen adopted the technique of making rapid sketches, never allowing the pencil to leave the paper. Drawing from nature, inspired by Menzel’s oeuvre, taught Citroen how to preserve the internal structure and coherence of his subject matter.

After the culture shock of his first encounter with avant-garde art at Gallery ‘Der Sturm’ (‘The Storm’) in 1914, Citroen stopped with drawing and painting. In the period that Dada emerged at the end of the First World War, he was still drawing very little, if at all. Citroen liked the Dadaistic ‘pasted constructions’ his friends—among them Erwin Blumenfeld—were making and he joined them enthusiastically. Montages and collages with a high satirical content were made using newspaper clippings, remnants of photos, and rubbish. The Dadaistic artists viewed these so-called ‘Klebebilder’ (‘pasted images’) as proof of their artistic freedom, i.e. a liberation from the traditional system in which reality was always presented as a whole. Dada was not interpreted the same everywhere: the manner in which the ‘movement’ was to be realised was dependent upon location and political circumstances. In Berlin, for instance, Dada’s central theme was the questioning of traditional values. With a loud uproar, the Dadaists in Berlin rebelled against the empire, the nobility, the militarism, and the narrow-mindedness that prevailed.

Citroen’s first collages date from about 1919. In their form, content, and use of text, they betray the influence of George Grosz and ‘Americanism’. Metropolis from 1923 is seen as a high point in Citroen’s oeuvre. His collages reveal a striving for renewal. At the same time, however, they reveal his traditional, naturalistic schooling: in his ‘world cities’, Citroen was unable to resist the urge of incorporating a natural element, such as the blue sky in one of the upper corners. He brought a harmonious unity to his picture-postcard buildings, which he had cut out to construct his fantasy cities. The seemingly true-to-life street perspectives that crisscross through his cities, and the suggestion of reality created using photographic material, contribute as well to the naturalistic component that typifies his collages. None of these collages are truly political in orientation.

On the advice of his friend Georg Muche, Citroen resumed his study of painting and drawing and enrolled at the Bauhaus in Weimar in 1922. Muche had been hired by the institute’s founder, Walter Gropius, and was one of its youngest teachers. Citroen’s most important instructors at the Bauhaus were Johannes Itten, who provided the basic introductory course (‘Vorkurs’), and Wassily Kandinsky. Itten was a proponent of personal expression, who, as a reform idealist, was striving for the liberation of the individual. Citroen was most taken with the emphasis that Itten placed on materials­—allowing a drawing to emerge from the nature of the material—and his investigation of the contrast between light and dark in compositions. Itten also included the compositions of old masters in his analyses. Exercises with theoretical and intuitive contrasts in colour and material, the study of rhythm and ‘automatic drawing’ were also part of the curriculum. With Kandinsky, the study of analysis and synthesis formed the core of the practical and theoretical lessons. These experiences at the Bauhaus would play a role in Citroen’s later views toward art pedagogy and his own theoretical reflections. His own artistic work­—despite its essentially naturalistic character—would also be somewhat expressionistically coloured by this influence. The insights Citroen acquired into the structures of surface and form, as well as light and dark contrasts, would prove to be important for his photography.

In December 1924, the graphic artist Otto Umbehr (called ‘Umbo’ for short) stayed for two weeks at Citroen’s home. Both men had known each other from the Bauhaus. At that moment seeing no future in graphic art, Umbo was trying to ascertain precisely where his talents lay. During this stay, he showed Citroen how his photo camera worked. Under Umbo’s watchful eye, Citroen took his first shots. The medium as yet failed to inspire him enough to purchase a camera of his own. A serious interest in photography was not to emerge until 1929, when spending time in Paris at the invitation of Marianne Breslauer, a friend of Citroen’s back in Berlin. In this period, Breslauer was studying photography with Man Ray. Using Breslauer’s camera and under her instruction, Citroen became acquainted with photography’s artistic potential. Through Breslauer, he also came into contact with Werner Rohde, an artist/photographer from Bremen, Germany, who was living in Paris temporarily. Citroen and Rohde became good friends and frequently ventured out together on ‘photo hunts’. In the same year (1929), Citroen received his first (6x9cm) camera as a wedding gift from his in-laws.

Initially, Citroen photographed primarily within his own circle of family members. With the birth of his daughter, Paulien, in 1930, he began using the camera on a regular basis to record her life’s progress. His wife Lientje also posed frequently for her husband. The decision to start taking on portrait commissions from others—frequently those in his immediate surroundings—was motivated by economic considerations present at the time. Citroen placed no advertisements, nor did he open a studio: he simply worked from his home. His list of clientele began to expand, most likely through recommendations made via word-of-mouth. No trace of any bookkeeping exists, which makes it difficult to distinguish between his commissioned portraits and photos of individuals posing as models at Citroen’s personal request. Among his ‘clients’ and ‘models’ were family members, friends, German emigrants, the cleaning lady, the cook, school friends of Paulien’s, neighbours, and artist friends.

Around 1930, Citroen started taking portrait shots of Dutch artists in accordance with his plans to produce a book on Dutch contemporary painting. The plan enjoyed the support of his brother-in-law, the painter Jacob Bendien, as well as that of Rein and Ann Harrenstein-Schräder, who advised and assisted Citroen with the selection of the artists. Palet. Een boek gewijd aan de hedendaagsche Nederlandsche schilderkunst (‘Pallet. A Book Devoted to Contemporary Dutch Painting) was published in 1931 by the Amsterdam publishing house De Spieghel. In his book, Citroen not only included reproductions of work by his chosen artists, but also contributions made by the artists themselves, submitted in the form of commentary, a poem, or a brief biographical description. A photographed, drawn, or painted portrait of every artist was also included. Citroen himself shot all the photographed portraits, depicting Raoul Hynckes, Wim Oepts, Kor Postma, Charles Roelofsz, Valentijn Edgar van Uytvanck, Johan J. Voskuil, and Piet van Wijngaerd. With the exception of Van Uytvanck’s portrait, all of the negatives for the portraits cited here are still to be found in Citroen’s archive, as well as the negative of Jacob Bendien’s portrait, though this is likely to be a reproduction. The painters selected for Pallet, however, were not the only artists who posed for Citroen’s camera. He also took portrait photos of the following people: the dancers Estella Reed and Chaja Goldstein; the cabaret actress Erika Mann; the sculptors John Rädecker and Hildo Krop; the architect Gerrit Rietveld; the photographers Marianne Breslauer, Otto Umbehr, and Laszlo Moholy-Nagy; the painters Else Berg, Thijs Rinsema, and Carel Willink; as well as other less renowned artists.

Paul Citroen photographed his daughter Paulien on a highly frequent basis well into her teens. These ‘photo sessions’ with his daughter often resulted in a series. Sometimes she appeared not the least bit aware of the camera’s presence; at other times, she posed according to her father’s instructions. Citroen’s interest in photographing his daughter was undoubtedly linked to his role as a father. Yet this also provided him with an opportunity to practice making children’s portraits, which he regularly did to make a living. Citroen knew Paulien’s character and her physical expression better than any other child. In part because she had grown accustomed to posing in front of her father’s camera, her portraits are among the most interesting children’s portraits in his oeuvre. One photographed portrait that Citroen made of his daughter was featured in a printed advertisement promoting biscuit rusks for the Dutch company Verkade, which appeared as well in the Algemeen Handelsblad of 8 December 1933. Paulien also served as an inspiration for a number of Citroen’s photographer friends. Eva Besnyö, Erwin Blumenfeld, as well as Paul Guermonprez and Hajo Rose of the studio Co-op 2, photographed her as a child. The Dutch newspaper De Telegraaf featured a photo of Citroen in its 24 July 1934 issue, in which Eva Besnyö can be seen photographing Paulien for a series of articles on career choices under the heading: ‘Fotografie, een beroep voor de vrouw’ (‘Photography, a Profession for Women’). Several of the photographs taken were also used with printed matter. One example is a montage of a landscape drawing and a portrait made by Guermonprez for the cover of the book Het dodende licht (‘The Killing Light’), by W.A. Prestre. Another Guermonprez shot of Paulien, photographed in connection with Liberty Furniture, was used in 1936 with printed matter for the Metz & Co. department store in Amsterdam (an annotation accompanying this printed matter in Citroen’s photo album: ‘A.B.C. No. 2 Oct. 36’). A portrait of Paulien taken by Eva Besnyö was used in a 1935 montage made by Hajo Rose for a cookie factory. In 1937, Wim Brusse used a shot of Paulien taken by Co-op 2 for printed advertising in schoolbooks published by W.L. & J. Brusse N.V. in Rotterdam.

Citroen was not the least interested in acquiring a technical knowledge of photography. He typically relied on a 6×9 camera, with the rest left to his intuition. His own words on this topic are very enlightening, taken from Retrospektive Fotografie (‘Retrospective Photography’, a German photography magazine) and reproduced in Dutch in a catalogue of the Gemeentemuseum in The Hague: ‘Taking photographs? (…) of course: you take a camera, look through the viewfinder and push the button. Well, you also have to adjust the settings a little, apply a few tricks here and there. Distance, lighting and a couple of other things—no, I’ve never had a photometer—do you know what that is? If you use a camera for a couple of months, a couple of years, then you know exactly how it works, then you don’t need any of that other stuff, all of that technical pretence… The problem is, in fact, that I’m not interested in technique—You think that you can see that just by looking at my photos? ­—Of course you can see it—Yes, I do indeed admire those technicians (because I understand so little of it), but to be honest, I don’t like them. They’re always wanting to try everything out, as soon as something new comes out on the market, they want the newest of what’s out there. But I was satisfied with my good old [camera]. It had become so familiar, we understood each other very well (I don’t always have to have a new wife). What one’s used to, don’t you agree, that’s it. You’ve got to be one with your, yes, with your good old little box [camera]. More technique? Everyone should decide that for themselves, I’ve got enough with what I have.’ Naturally, this was just reasoning on Citroen’s part in order to play down his own technical shortcomings—his negatives sometimes show lens glare and are rarely perfectly veiled. At the same time, however, his words convey the notion that vision was more important for him than technique. This was perhaps because, in Citroen’s view, a degree of spontaneity was lost when too much emphasis was placed on the mastery of technique.

Citroen had his glass and nitrate negatives developed—and usually also printed—by a variety of photo dealers. The sleeves in which he stored his negatives were from businesses such as Capi and Kodak, both on the Kalverstraat in Amsterdam; Siewers, a photokino (German: ‘photo cinema’) dealer and Leica specialist in Hilversum; and a number of photo stores in the town of Wassenaar. The photographer, Norbert Buchsbaum, contends that Citroen never had his own darkroom. Instead, he is likely to have had photo enlargements made by photographers in his circle of friends, perhaps occasionally making use of their darkrooms as well. When Citroen did do his own developing and printing at home, this occurred in the bathroom.

Citroen’s portrait photography differs from the production of other professional portrait photographers in his day. He was inspired by the modern vision of photography: looking at regular things in a new way. Design elements in his oeuvre, such as the diagonal angle of view, strong light and dark contrast, motion blur, and close-ups were intentionally introduced on a regular basis. His Bauhaus background gave him the daring to experiment unabashedly with a new medium like photography. Citroen’s discussions with Werner Rohde concerning Moholy-Nagy’s Bauhaus book from 1925, Malerei Fotografie Film (‘Painting Photography Film’), made him more aware of the artistic expression that could be achieved with photography. Citroen had no problem, however, diverging from the ‘rules’ of the New Photography, which—though initially introduced by Moholy-Nagy— had since become ‘dogmatised’ by later adepts. For Citroen, taboos against practices such as making crops of negatives to be used for enlargements were non-existent. Similarly, Piet Zwart’s ‘strijd op het mat glas’ (‘dispute on the ground glass screen’) had virtually escaped his notice.

The point of focus in Citroen’s portraits is typically in front of the face, on the arm or lapel. When combined with a wider lens aperture, the result is a blurred portrait. Citroen’s diversion from the standard approach—the academy’s stance was to focus on the eyes—should probably not be interpreted as a poor shot, but rather as an intentional visual tool. Blurred shots could be readily combined with the soft photo papers on which Citroen relied. Moreover, he enjoyed the somewhat romantic mood that blur gave these photos. Citroen also had an eye for unusual and humorous details, implemented to remove an everyday subject from its regular context. Isolated from its surroundings, a subject takes on a surreal atmosphere. Citroen’s famous photo of an unsightly, old-fashioned and broken-down toilet in the modern Rietveld-Schröder House in Utrecht serves as a well-known example. A window mannequin belongs to this same genre as well. In spite of his notoriety and insight regarding the design potential of photography, Paul Citroen’s photographic oeuvre is a mixture of a modern vision and a more traditional naturalism. This combination of contrasting elements in his work influenced him throughout much of his life, ever since he had come into contact with avant-garde art (after having had a traditional drawing education) via Herwarth Walden in 1914.

A major part of Citroen’s portraits may be characterised as amateur work. He typically photographed people in circumstances as they occurred, without putting a great deal of energy into technically optimum conditions for lighting, composition, and background. A professional photographer is likely to have paid more attention to the colour of the clothing, to distracting objects in the space where the photos were being taken, and a more favourable lighting. Where Citroen did devote significant attention—and that is what makes his portrait work interesting—was his model’s pose and facial expression. Citroen managed to infallibly recognise and capture precisely the individual characteristics of his subjects. More often than not, this was accompanied by a remarkable feeling for humour and atmosphere.

Citroen’s portrait shots of ordinary people (neighbours, friends, family members, unknown clients, etc.) can sometimes be described as rather mundane. Yet account must be taken of the fact that he could still have succeeded at producing (or having someone else produce) captivating photos in the darkroom by means of cropping and printing. Of the scarce original prints that have been preserved, a number attest to this.

At first glance, Citroen’s photographed portraits have little in common with his drawn and painted portraits. At their foundation, however, lies a shared vision that stems from his Bauhaus training: thinking based on the material and a marked interest in light and dark contrasts. In all of these disciplines, Citroen’s ability to emphasise his models’ individual characteristics is likewise expressed in the same manner.

From 1 to 30 November 1932, thirty of Paul Citroen’s photos were exhibited at the Kunstkelder (‘Art Cellar’) at Spui 13 in Amsterdam. The reactions in the press were rather mixed. In Focus, Adriaan Boer had virtually nothing good to say about Citroen’s work, discerning above all technical mistakes, subjects that failed to excite him, and large, unsympathetically photographed female heads. Boer’s view was that the exhibited work was immature, advising Citroen to first devote serious effort to the study of photography for a period of approximately three years. In that case, he would likely prove to be a good photographer. The critiques in the other photography magazines were pretty much in line with Boer’s findings. The opinions presented in the newspapers Algemeen Handelsblad and De Telegraaf, however, were more positive. The critics of these papers also found the photos of still lifes and interiors to be of little interest, but instead emphasised the beauty that could be observed, referring specifically to the portraits: ‘ (…) posessing great beauty and psychological depth (…)’, stated J.W.F. Werumeus Buning in his review for De Telegraaf. And in reference to a child’s photo, he wrote ecstatically: ‘There is a photo here of a sleeping child, so beautiful in the lull of slumber, that one starts speaking quietly so as to not to awaken it.’

Paul Citroen’s negatives archive comprises more than 1,400 negatives. A number of these are in relatively poor condition due to the emulsion’s deterioration. Most of the negatives were made in the format 6×9 cm. Some have a different format: 11.5×7 cm. When comparing the negatives archive with the photo albums compiled by Citroen himself from the 1930s to the ’50s, it becomes apparent that negatives for some of the photos are no longer extant. Citroen’s archive also includes a number of shots taken by the photographer John Fernhout, as well as shots made by Citroen and Fernhout together. Fernhout often stayed with the Citroen family after his mother, Charley Toorop, moved to Paris in 1930.

Adjacent to images in his photo albums that were not his own, Citroen recorded the name of the person who took the shot. These photo albums therefore serve as an important source of information for documenting the archive’s contents. The organisation of Citroen’s negatives archive is relevant to the attribution of the original photos once held in his possession. One example concerns the portrait of an anonymous young woman—the first image appearing in this monograph—that Citroen donated to the Leiden University Print Room, presenting it as a photo taken by his friend Otto Umbehr. The accuracy of this description, however, was later drawn into question, with the portrait instead appearing to have been made by Citroen himself. A negative of this portrait is indeed found in his negatives archive, together with other shots of the same model. An attribution to Citroen is therefore plausible.

Following the foundation of the Nieuwe Kunstschool (‘New Art School’) in 1933, the economic necessity of having to take photos as a means to make extra money subsided. Citroen now devoted himself entirely to his ‘Bauhaüschen’ (‘little Bauhaus’), as he often referred to the school. After also accepting a teaching position at the KABK (Koninklijke Academie van Beeldende Kunsten, ‘Royal Academy of Art’) in The Hague in 1935, Citroen ceased his activity as a professional photographer, though he continued to take photos within the circle of his immediate family.

Photography was a phase in Paul Citroen’s life. Because of his artistic training, photographic design required little effort. In his view, however, photography was a fundamentally different field of work when compared to painting and drawing. Undoubtedly, Citroen’s lack of solid technical skills is one explanation why he never became a fanatic photographer. He was such a devout craftsman as a drawing artist and a painter that he is certain to have missed this activity when working with photography. Citroen’s fresh take on a variety of subjects, in no way enslaved by any adherence to traditional conventions in photography, and his personal daring were nevertheless qualities that made him an exceptional photographer. Citroen’s small oeuvre, spanning a relatively brief period of time, may be considered a pearl on the crown of Dutch photography.

Documentation

(selectie: alleen documenten die betrekking hebben op het fotografisch oeuvre van Paul Citroen en de belangrijkste publicaties m.b.t. zijn fotocollages zijn opgenomen. Zie voor overige literatuur: Herbert van Rheeden, Monique Feenstra en Bettina Rijkschroeff, Paul Citroen. Kunstenaar docent verzamelaar, Zwolle/Heino/Wijhe (Waanders/Hannema-de Stuers Fundatie) 1994 en de daarin opgenomen bibliografie)