Foreword
The Goetheanum,
as a finished structure in all its beauty, was able to speak
its message to humanity only for a few short years. The full
wonder of it was revealed to but a small group of people,
although day in and day out crowds of eager sight-seers wound
up the hill, there to open their hearts to the breath of the
Spirit, in curiosity, wonder, admiration, emotion, and
— richer by yet another longing — once again to
wend their way back to the world of banality. For a short
span of time certain human souls had gazed at wonderland, had
been raised above themselves, while others were seized by the
forces of hatred and anger. Nobody was left indifferent. To
those, however, who had learnt to understand the language of
the forms, who had actually moulded them from the substance
of wood with all its earthly solidity and at the same time
ethereal flexibility — to those and to their companions
in this work of regeneration, were revealed ever deeper, ever
vaster world-connections under the mighty sweep of the
architraves, between the capitals and plinths of the columns,
whose motifs stood out with sudden boldness and novelty in
the process of metamorphosis. There they wound, in and out
each other, striving organically from primordial simplicity
to complexity of form, and then back in a decrescendo to an
inwardly deepened simplicity.
It was an
architecture that developed onwards like a symphony, flowing
into harmony — an architecture condensed into earthly
substance from ethereal worlds, sending forth into space
formative forces which were bound to take hold of the
creative impulses of man and transmute them. The proportions
of this architecture rendered it a dream in wood, too fair to
endure, too pure not to be hated to its destruction, yet
strong enough to call the new, of like nature with itself,
into being.
Life, new and
growing, is the Spirit's answer to the stab of death. Life,
rich and abundant, is coming to flower around the urn where
rest the ashes of Rudolf Steiner and round the new Building
arising from the ashes of the old. The wide-flung sparks from
the burning brand of the Dornach Sylvester night are becoming
a spirit-seed, and those flames will be changed into
spiritual life. However feeble our deeds may be, there lies,
none the less, in the accomplished work of what has passed
away, the Future that rescues mankind from a second
death.
Therefore I
have ventured to publish these lectures wherein Rudolf
Steiner led us to the precincts where his spirit unfolded its
creative Art, the while we worked with him in the newly built
worksheds of the future Goetheanum. In the evenings we used
to encamp ourselves among the planks in the great shed where
the gigantic columns were put together, among the machines
that shortly before had been ceaselessly working and now had
come to momentary rest. There we listened to his words
— words which opened up for us in all their
inexhaustible fulness, new regions of his spirit, new depths
of his being. We hardly dared realise that it was actually
our destiny to be able to live among it all. And indeed, near
Rudolf Steiner, there was no opportunity for self-indulgence.
Time did not permit it nor did the ethereal intensity of his
personality, which demanded, by dint of perpetual example, a
ceaseless moving from one task to another. The soul had
perforce to brace itself to receive the greatness and
intensity of that mighty inrushing stream of the Spirit. And
indeed if it had not been for the unending kindness and
gentleness of one who was ever giving and creating, the soul,
without having the power to assimilate all this wealth, could
scarcely have endured the strain. Only if the soul were
willing to accept this as a necessary sacrifice in the
service of man, could it rise above the sheer intensity of
the torrent — and then its power was borne as if on
wings.
The work on the
growing building demanded the constant presence of Rudolf
Steiner, and so the earlier life of ceaseless journeys in the
service of Spiritual Science was temporarily discontinued.
With the erection of the building an abundance of new tasks
fell upon him, tasks that he gratefully and willingly took
upon himself, though only after repeated requests and urgings
that were proof against all discouragement, from friends in
Munich who had seen the Mystery Plays there and wanted to
build a hall for them. When the building plans were rejected
in Munich the pleadings continued, with the same insistence,
that they should be carried through in Switzerland. This
entailed many burdens for Rudolf Steiner, but his heart was
full of gratitude and this gratitude and feeling of
responsibility streamed with warmth and inwardness through
all the words which stimulated us to work and to
understand.
Listening to
his words, which led us into new depths of being, we learned
to know how in art man becomes one with divine creative
power, if this, and not imitation, is the source of his own
creative activity; we learned how the Divine-spiritual lives
and moves within man as abundance of power if he becomes
conscious of his connection with the universe. By giving form
and mould to what lives in cosmic laws, by dint of inner
penetration of spiritual connections, man creates art that is
born from the depths of the universe and his own being. This
is no mere hearkening to the secrets of nature; it is a
fathoming of the hidden spirituality active behind nature. A
fiery power thrilled through Rudolf Steiner's words and gave
us life. We were able to feel how ancient civilisations had
arisen out of these impelling forces of art and how in our
spiritless age of disenchantment, degeneracy and barreness,
the same possibilities are once again offered, at a higher
stage, at the stage of conscious knowledge. A fire of
enthusiasm thrilled through us and gave our artists strength
to work, year in and year out, with chisel and mallet at the
wood, with diamond drill at the glass of the windows, each of
a single colour and shining only in different colours at
their different positions in the Building. Both inside and
outside, the Building stood there as a masterpiece of art
created by a human hand; the relief-modelling of its inner
surfaces might well be an organ for the speech of the Gods;
its windows showed in the coloured shades of their designs
the way to the Spirit, the stations along the path to the
spiritual world. Those walls that became living through the
movement in the forms, those light effects that were charmed
into the windows by the thickness or thinness of the glass
surfaces, called to the soul, now also stirred to action, to
tread the path to regions whose speech flowed through the
ethereal forms in the wood, through the windows which linked
the outer and inner worlds together in a music of spiritual
harmony.
All earlier
buildings pointed to a connection with the earth, they rested
within the earthly forces; here the walls were living,
inducing exaltation and deepening alike, portraying an onward
flowing evolution.
“Thus, O
Man, thou findest the way to the Spirit!” — This
was what spoke from the forms and windows of the Goetheanum.
Gothic architecture contained the prayer: “O Father of
the Universe, may we be united with Thee in Thy
Spirit.” The hidden Spirit permeating man makes him
able to experience the world in forms and movements which
to-day confront us like riddles. Rudolf Steiner expresses the
thought of the new art of architecture in these words:
“We enter with reverence into the Spirit, in order that
we may become one with the Spirit which pours out around us
in the forms and enters into movement — for behind the
Spirits of Form stand the Spirits of Movement.”
To-day, the
inner, living growth of man's being would fain come to
expression in a building art which in ancient Greece created
the dwelling place of the God, and in Gothic times the house
of the community in prayer.
The lectures in
which Rudolf Steiner thus spoke to us of the new style of
architecture, of the art of relief and of the nature of
colour, are only available in imperfect, incomplete
transcriptions. Sketches made at the time are in many cases
missing, as well as quotations which after this long lapse of
time can no longer be found when a name had by chance escaped
the stenographer. Yet so great is the abundance of the
revelations, both in a spiritual and artistic sense, that I
feel it my duty to make them accessible to the world. The
series of these lectures was broken by the World War, to
which the sorrowful utterances of the last lecture point as
if prophetically. One after another our artists were called
away to the scene of war. With very few exceptions, there
remained only those men who belonged to neutral countries,
and the women. In the early days of the war, Rudolf Steiner
gave us a First Aid Course. For four years we heard the
cannons thundering in neighbouring Alsace and they were the
terrible daily accompaniment to the beats of the hammer in a
work of peace and human brotherhood. Rudolf Steiner's
constant thought and heart-rending care during this time was
the bringing to pass of peace, of an understanding for its
necessity, but his warning voice was unheard. In spite of the
deep sorrow into which the tragedy of world happenings
plunged him, the words he spoke to those who were working at
the Building were as full of light and as kindly as the doors
he moulded, as the staircase that called out its welcome to
those who entered, crying to them to be fully Man in
the service of the radiant, sun-lit power of the Spirit.
In order to
give an impression of these stairways, these doors and relief
motifs, a series of photographs has been added to the
lectures. The first shows the Goetheanum with its double
domes in the blossoming time of the Jura countryside. This
interpenetration of the two unequal sized domes called forth
the astonished admiration of architects and engineers. It was
a mathematical problem which they felt themselves wholly
unable to solve. A well-known architect from California, who
lad constructed many great public buildings there, could not
say enough in admiring appreciation: “The man who has
solved this problem is a mathematical genius of the highest
order. He is a master of mathematics, a master of our
science: from him we architects have to learn. The man who
built this has conquered the heights because he is master of
the depths.”
Here too, as in
other spheres, experts recognised their master in Rudolf
Steiner.
MARIE STEINER.
Dornach, April 1926.
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