Hidden Legacies: Women Artists of the Wiener Werkstätte

In the Jewish Museum, a vitrine displays postcards designed by Mela Koehler for the Wiener Werkstätte in 1908. These cards feature intricate designs of elongated figures in geometric patterns. Their Art Nouveau lines blend into muted palettes of sage, ochre, and rust. Despite selling thousands, Koehler’s name remains largely unrecognized today.

The exhibition, The Women Artists of the Wiener Werkstätte, reclaims stories like Koehler’s. It spans three decades of modernist production, from the studio’s founding in 1903 by Josef Hoffmann and Koloman Moser to its decline in the mid-1930s. While often associated with male architects, about half of the Werkstätte's artists were women, whose contributions have been overlooked.

Curated by Dr. Lisa Silverman of the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee, the exhibition emphasizes the roles of women like Koehler, textiles designer Mathilde Flögl, and enamel artist Vally Wieselthier. These artists navigated multiple roles as creators and educators during a time of limited opportunities for women. Silverman notes, "The Wiener Werkstätte was unique in its relatively egalitarian structure. Women were not only participants but key innovators, yet their contributions were often anonymized."

A highlight is a tapestry by Maria Likarz, woven in 1921. Measuring just under a meter across, it features densely layered blue and gold threads. Nearby, Likarz’s graphic works, including bookplates and pattern designs, showcase her precision, a testament to her training at Vienna’s Kunstgewerbeschule. Unlike Hoffmann, whose name endures in design curricula, Likarz was often relegated to footnotes until feminist art historians began to recover her legacy in the late 20th century.

The exhibition confronts the complexities of these women’s lives. Many were Jewish, influencing their access to education and their eventual erasure under National Socialism. Koehler emigrated to New York in 1938 after the Nazi annexation of Austria, abandoning her artistic career. Flögl’s fate is less clear; records suggest she was deported in 1941. The curatorial team provides context through archival documents: immigration forms, letters, and invoices that illustrate the fragility of creative lives interrupted by political turmoil.

The Jewish Museum’s framing of this exhibition aligns with broader efforts to integrate gender and cultural studies into modernist history. The accompanying catalogue cites recent scholarship from institutions like the Belvedere Museum and the MAK, both of which have held retrospectives on underrepresented figures in Viennese design. Dr. Daniela Hahn, a Vienna-based historian, remarks that institutional support marks a turning point: "We are beginning to see these women not as ancillary to figures like Hoffmann, but as central to the aesthetic and commercial success of the Werkstätte."

From an aesthetic standpoint, the works challenge assumptions about early modernism’s austerity. Vibrant colors, tactile surfaces, and playful forms dominate, especially in the ceramics section where Wieselthier’s work stands out. Her voluptuous porcelain figures, finished in cobalt and scarlet glazes, are unapologetically decorative. Wieselthier famously declared, "Why should utility exclude beauty?" This sentiment permeates the exhibition, countering narratives that equate modernism with functional minimalism.

The exhibition also addresses the market dynamics that shaped these artists’ careers. Items like postcards, fabrics, and small ceramics were marketed to a burgeoning middle class, making them accessible in both price and scale. This commercial orientation allowed women designers to reach broader audiences, embedding their work into the visual culture of Viennese modernism. However, this accessibility has contributed to their marginalization, with such objects historically dismissed as "decorative arts" rather than fine art.

Silverman and her team have worked to correct this bias in the exhibition’s layout. Works are displayed in simple wood-and-glass cases, with textiles unrolled to show their full dimensions and ceramics placed at eye level for detailed viewing. The lighting emphasizes texture, from the raised embroidery on a cushion cover to the glossy curves of enamelware. The intention is to assert the material and intellectual depth of these works.

Yet questions remain about the recontextualization of such figures. Can exhibitions alone alter entrenched hierarchies in art history? How do institutions balance the need for visibility with the risk of treating rediscovery as a trend? The Jewish Museum acknowledges these tensions without offering definitive answers. Instead, it presents a platform for continued dialogue, situating the women of the Wiener Werkstätte within broader conversations about equity in the arts.

The exhibition runs through January 14, 2024, with programming that includes lectures and workshops on the intersections of gender and design. It serves as a reminder that modernism, far from being the domain of a few celebrated men, was a collective effort—one in which women played indispensable roles, now finally coming into focus.