Anton von Werner-Archiv

Anton von Werner was the director of the Academy at Berlin. "The great Anton von Werner," he was called. It was said of him that he could put more art into the painting of a of a soldier 's boots than others could put into the face. His studio at the Academy was filled to overflowing with patriotic pictures. He painted the Procla mation of William the Great as Emperor at Versailles, the Negotia tion of Peace at Versailles in which Bismarck forces Thiers to sign the Treaty, and innumerable other historic canvases. Von Werner was considered an institution in German art second only to the great Menzel, his illustrious contemporary. The Acad emy was proud of possessing so distinguished a leader. And excel lent he doubtless was for that particular post. His speeches at the beginning and end of each term were considered classics of their kind. Even in my brief stay there, two things which he said still linger in my memory. At his opening address he took a piece of chalk, and holding it up, declared: "Talent is one. It is the basis of art. Without it any amount of industry is of no value/' Then he added a zero and held the one beside it. "But," he went on, "talent and industry combined make ten." At another time he said, " Academies are only for mediocrity. They are the crutches upon which art students learn to walk. But some of the students are born with wings those are the geniuses. To them the academy is only a hindrance." When, before starting for Italy, I took leave of him, he gave me another grain from his supply of wisdom: "If the world praises you, it is good; if it abuses you, that is not bad; but beware if it passes you in silence." Had anybody told him at that time that his pictures would be almost forgotten even before his death, he would have been astounded. So imbued was he with the sense of his own greatness and importance, with such deference was he treated by the high and lowly, that nothing but eternity could have appeared to him as a possible measure of his fame's duration. As my two years' stay at the Academy in Berlin was drawing to a close, I looked back over my experiences and could not help feeling that I was progressing. Although art there doubtless moved in the good old channels which were emphasized by a Schaper and a von Werner, there was nevertheless a distinct current of fresh air and fresh ideas noticeable. It must be owned that to the more enlight ened the Academy appeared stuffy and they left it. Personally, I felt otherwise. I had never looked upon it as other than those crutches by the help of which I might learn to walk. The thoroughness of the teaching appealed to me. Looking back after these many years I must conclude that old Anton von Werner had judged the situation correctly. Most of those who went across the Alps with glowing expectations and hearts filled with hope, ordinarily came back after a few years with little more than memories of happy hours spent in Italy,

• Fuchs, Emil (1925) With Pencil, Brush and Chisel: The Life of an Artist. New York: G.P. Putnam's Sons, S. 13,14,20,24