Julius Meier-Graefe,
The Dial
(1923)
“ Nothing which painted with hand-me-down gestures the monumental sorrow of defeat: no fallen warriors, no lions riddled with bullets. Humbled mankind had no time for edification. Berlin maintained its tempo and lost its substance. The senseless idiocy of mechanization, the human absurdity of humans, animals, things which are nothing but instruments of commerce—all this formed itself, deformed itself, into pictures. The narrowness made faces crooked and legs twisted; tragi-comedies of things jammed together arose. Beckmann went straight through Berlin. Perhaps he is coming out beyond Berlin. ”
