Historical memorial to those who died in the Second World War

Biography of the sculptor Fritz von Graevenitz

Born in 1892 as the son of a general, Fritz von Graevenitz received a strict military upbringing. In 1911 he joined the Queen Olga Grenadier Regiment No. 119 in Stuttgart. During the First World War, he almost completely lost his sight in one eye. He nevertheless studied sculpture and achieved regional fame from 1921. His work focused on pieces of art for public spaces.

His artistic style can generally be categorized as Neoclassicism, although his works also contain references to Art Nouveau, particularly during the Weimar period. From the 1930s onwards, he increasingly aligned with the National Socialist ideal of art. His figures became larger and more muscular.

Fritz von Graevenitz’s worldview and basic attitude can be described as conservative, soldierly, and national-patriotic. He was shaped by the imperial era, his aristocratic status, and his personal and collective experiences during the First World War, in which he lost two of his brothers. He wrote in his Höchenschwander diary in 1942:

“For they awaken again as if from heavy dreams, the stone symbols of war. And they must awaken, because war requires the most masculine art, sculpture. [...] Begun under the sign of the world war, they mature today during the most violent struggle in human history, eternal images: Struggle, sacrifice, and overcoming [...].”

His role under National Socialism was ambivalent. Julia Müller, who has dealt with the biography of Fritz von Graevenitz in great detail and in a nuanced manner, cites the following reasons for his active collaboration with the Nazi regime:

• A rejection of the Weimar Republic and democracy that was not unusual for the time, especially among the nobility
• Career-oriented opportunism  
• An apolitical attitude focused on the artistic-aesthetic field
• Biographical experiences during the imperial era and the First World War (Graevenitz quote: “[...] with the first war, one ‘pushed off the land,’ where one still was at that time, never to get solid ground under one’s feet again.”)

In 1930, Fritz von Graevenitz initially joined the “Stahlhelm,” an association of former front-line soldiers of the First World War. He later described this paramilitary and anti-democratic organization as “heartbreakingly reactionary.”

In 1937 he was appointed professor, and in 1938 he was appointed director of the Stuttgart Academy of Arts by Württemberg’s President and Minister of Culture Christian Mergenthaler – a clear sign that he was considered loyal by the National Socialists. He ran the academy “largely in line with the Nazi cultural program.”

Under the National Socialists, Fritz von Graevenitz exhibited regularly at the Great German Art Exhibition in Munich and produced, among other things, a portrait bust of Adolf Hitler and the Rudolf Hess’s 2-year-old son. He was also on the Nazi’s “List of the God-Gifted” along with around 1000 other artists. These artists were exempted from front-line service starting in August/September 1944 due to their artistic importance, which the Nazi regime considered to be outstanding. On Hitler’s personal orders, Fritz von Graevenitz was awarded the “War Merit Cross 2nd Class” in January 1944.

At the beginning of 1945, von Graevenitz was apparently banned from speaking by Reich Governor Wilhelm Murr. Murr found von Graevenitz to be politically unreliable, and Murr therefore largely relieved him of his duties at the academy. The background to this was presumably his lack of party membership and critical questions about the T4 action in Grafeneck.

It is worth noting that Fritz von Graevenitz was never a member of the NSDAP, nor did he join the NS-Dozentenbund. This also applied to other artists who enjoyed success under National Socialism. However, membership should have been compulsory at the latest when they were taken on as civil servants. It may have been friendly and family ties with high dignitaries of the regime or his position as a former front-line soldier that enabled him to pursue his career despite his lack of party membership.

Thanks in part to this lack of membership, he was classified as exonerated (“unbelastet”) by the Leonberg Court after the war, but was nevertheless relieved of his position as director of the State Academy of the Arts in 1946. Until the 1950s, he created further works of art for public spaces, including a bust of Eugen Bolz, who was executed by the National Socialists in 1944. In 1957, he was made an honorary citizen of Gerlingen, where he died in 1959.

All in all, Fritz von Graevenitz does not appear to have been a thoroughly convinced National Socialist. However, he did sympathize with some fundamental aspects of National Socialist policy, whereby he seems to have been primarily concerned with the desire to compensate for Germany’s defeat in the First World War. In his book “Kunst und Soldatentum” (On Art and Being a Solider) he wrote:

“Today, a brilliant leader’s will welds people and state into political unity. We are living in heroic times again.”

Last but not least, Fritz von Graevenitz benefited from the National Socialist understanding of art in his position as an artist and experienced a greater appreciation of his work compared to the Weimar period.

There is little evidence that he ever used his position at the Stuttgart Academy of Arts to actively influence colleagues or students in the interests of the NSDAP, and there was never a clear admission of guilt on his part or an openly critical examination of his role during National Socialism, which he at least helped to support as a successful artist and teacher.

History of the Hohenheim sculpture

As early as 1916, there were plans in Hohenheim to erect a memorial to the soldiers of the First World War. This was initially postponed due to the ongoing war and was taken up again in the 1920s. In keeping with the spirit of the times, a nude male statue made of reddish terracotta was planned, but this was not realized. In May 1922, two bronze plaques with the following inscription were made instead: “They left Hohenheim to go to the World War and died heroic deaths 1914 – 1918 ... Honor and thanks go to their memory”.

Just under ten years after the end of the Second World War, Fritz von Graevenitz was chosen by the University of Hohenheim to design a “memorial to the fallen”. This was one of the first concrete requests from an official institution to von Graevenitz to create a memorial after the war.

Graevenitz looked through the files from the 1920s and then suggested a young man (inscription: “A legacy to the living”) with a sacrificial bowl (inscription: “To the victims of the Second World War”). However, on 7 November 1955, the Hohenheim Senate decided to commission the sculpture of the young man without the sacrificial bowl and to place it between the plaques for the soldiers who died in the First World War.

However, Fritz von Graevenitz did not create the sculpture of a young man from scratch, but used a model from 1940, which he had probably designed based on his nephew, Carl Friedrich von Weizsäcker, who he believed embodied “the ideal human type of a young man.”

This bronze figure was first shown at the Great German Art Exhibition in Munich in 1940 and then at the Reich Exhibition of Young Art in Salzburg in 1942. A year later, a cast of the youth was sold to the Reich University of Poznan and exhibited in the main building. The Reich University of Poznan was regarded as a model Nazi university.

For the monument in Hohenheim, von Graevenitz modified this original model only slightly: the muscles are slightly less pronounced and the sword is lowered a little.

History of the sculpture's interpretation

It is interesting to see how the sculpture was interpreted when it was created in the 1940s and later when it was installed in Hohenheim.

Interpretations during the Nazi era

According to Nazi ideology, art was to “reflect the ideal of a German national community.” The young man was thus viewed to be standing as a “guard of honor” in Salzburg in 1942 for the soldiers who had “fallen” in the ongoing war and was regarded as the “embodiment of German character, of German youth ready for action” in Poznan in 1943. It was intended as “a constant reminder to the student body [...] to always stand up for the Reich.”

Overall, the “cult of the dead” and the associated heroism, willingness to sacrifice, and obedience were among the core elements of National Socialist ideology. They helped to support the National Socialist regime until the defeat of the German Wehrmacht at Stalingrad and in some cases beyond. Fritz von Graevenitz thus actively participated in National Socialist propaganda with the creation of his sculpture. In 1944, the curator of the Reich University of Poznan wrote of the “extraordinary powers” that the sculpture would exert for “intellectual pioneering work” in the East.

Statements made by Fritz von Graevenitz in 1940 in his book “Kunst und Soldatentum” (On Art and Being a Soldier) are relevant to the sculptor's own interpretation of the sculpture. In it, he describes artists as “weapons smiths” and continues:

“Thus both – artist and soldier – stand before the people in ultimate responsibility: to defy confusion and danger, to be fighters for the weightiest good on earth: Freedom. [...] Over the graves of Langemarck, Greater Germany is rising today.”

One quote in particular about the depiction of the human body is also revealing:

“There is never a clearer division of opinions and times than in the design of the human body. Because he is of the spirit, the Greek youth overcomes hostile elemental forces as if playing, without a struggle.”

In 1940, Fritz von Graevenitz also wrote a poem about his sculpture of a youth, which illustrates very well how he himself interpreted the work of art:

“In the midst of a flaming night,
Far away roaring, wild thunderstorms,
A god-sent, holy hero approaches,
Bright as a young star, beginning his triumphal course, radiant.
In his striding, swinging power,
Shouting songs, victorious power.
Look, as in the reflection of falling stars,
His face shines,
In a smile, secretive light,
And a deity's dream, weighty with the future,
Lies softly around his eyes,
Holy sea dedicated to battle.”

The words are very similar to his description of Heinrich Freiherr von Weizsäcker, who was killed in the attack on Poland on 2 September 1939, whom he describes as a “chosen one embraced by the spirit” who stormed ahead of his regiment with clarity and determination. Fritz von Graevenitz also made no secret of his admiration for the Wehrmacht’s initial successes when he wrote about the young men returning home from the Western Front:

“Tense, taut – glorious are you boys who have become men in hours!”

With the creation of his sculpture of a youth, the sculptor finally cast all these attributes in bronze.

Interpretation in the 1950s

The question now arises as to what extent these backgrounds played a role in commissioning the sculpture in 1954 and how the monument was categorized from Hohenheim's perspective.

Unfortunately, there is little information in the sources as to why Fritz von Graevenitz was chosen for the commission to create a “memorial to the fallen” in 1954. A lot must have been decided in verbal discussions for which no minutes were taken. In his speech at the unveiling ceremony, President Rademacher states that Graevenitz was close to the subject matter as he was an officer who was seriously wounded in the First World War.

It is also possible that personal connections via the Queen Olga Regiment played a role and that Graevenitz benefited from his old contacts from the war and pre-war period or, conversely, that his lack of party membership and the fact that he was classified as exonerated (unbelastet) by the court in Leonberg and was commissioned for the creation of the Bolz bust by the Landtag spoke in his favor.

We know for certain that President Rademacher was informed about the sculpture’s origins by von Graevenitz himself, but nevertheless advocated for installing it in Hohenheim.

Fritz von Graevenitz himself then stated that he had always understood the sculpture to be “in opposition to the party’s stance.” The young man in his sculpture was a “spiritual warrior” in the “tradition of Michael,” the archangel. St. Michael is regarded as the one who accompanies the souls of the dead, but also as the patron saint of Germany and the patron saint of soldiers.

In fact, there are clear differences to sculptures by other Nazi artists such as Arno Breker. Even in its original form, Graevenitz’s youth does not hold up his sword; his muscles are less pronounced than in Breker’s work.

At the same time, in 1954 Fritz von Graevenitz was particularly concerned with the sculpture’s “admonishing and proclaiming” purpose for the living more than for the dead. He therefore pleaded with the Senate for a polar solution of a sacrificial bowl (for the dead) and a sculpture (for the living).

Overall, however, one cannot help but recognize that Jüngling is a sculpture that was not only created in accordance with the National Socialist understanding of art, but was also explicitly designed for presentation in the National Socialist art scene, in which it was also very well received. The Hohenheim Senate and President Rademacher must also have been aware of this.

His speech at the inauguration of the sculpture in 1955 reads less as a critical examination of his own responsibility as a society or university than as an enduring commitment to nationalism and military sacrifice.

Critical passages in which he speaks of the “presumptuousness and hubris” that had led to Germany’s “deep plunge” or appeals for the Jüngling sculpture to be understood as a reminder to “respect humanity and human dignity” remain the exception. Rather, Rademacher also takes up the idea of the “spiritual warrior” that had been coined in 1940:

“It shows a noble body ruled by the spirit. [...] No people will retain the freedom to live according to its own way unless it is prepared to make every sacrifice for freedom and the true values of human life.”

The fact that from his perspective these values did not differ greatly from those of National Socialism becomes clear in the following:

 “Fatherland, freedom, honor, loyalty, and the will to sacrifice are and remain genuine values.”

Ultimately, for the Hohenheim President, the sculpture was a symbol of the “debt of gratitude of the living,” a legacy of “what our people have striven for, owed, and suffered,” and was intended to remind the students “of the tragic sacrificial death of their brothers and fathers.”

Rademacher also explicitly referred to future commemoration being dedicated only to the fallen, missing, and lost of his own “Volk.”

Contemporary discourse about the sculpture

In 2023, the Hohenheim Senate decided to leave the sculpture in its current location as a document of contemporary history, but to add further information. We see the sculpture today as an impetus to actively engage with the significance of historical guilt and the continuities and disruptions in our history.