Literature

Art and mystery in the GDR

5 reading minutes

written by Aude Robert-Tissot · March 29, 2022 · 0 comment

Sophie Pointurier presents her first novel, The peripheral woman. It's about a couple of iconic artists: Petra Wolf, an art teacher in West Germany, and her husband, Peter, a painter fleeing the East. GDR, FRG, Stasi, this novel allows us to revisit the history - and the future - of our country. of this post-war Communist country and its artists. An enigma that keeps the reader on the edge of his seat throughout the novel, namely the mysterious disappearance of painter Peter Wolf.

A major retrospective is in the works at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York (MET), and its director is determined to meet Peter Wolf. He is dealing with his wife, Petra, the guardian of his body of work. A woman described in art circles as cold and detestable. Yet all she is doing is protecting her husband - which later turns out not really to be the case - by covering his tracks… Peter Wolf officially suffers from social phobia. After all, a painter who shuts himself away in his studio and doesn’t want to see anyone isn’t exactly surprising. Until the day the director of the MET flies into a rage over this absence—which he considers condescending—and demands the artist’s presence at the opening of his exhibition. The curator files a complaint. A missing persons investigation follows. All evidence points to Petra Wolf, who suddenly finds herself the prime suspect.

We are then swept up in the complexities of the contemporary art world—from journalists on the hunt for a sensational headline to ruthless curators and pedantic, sexist art historians. Many themes are explored in this novel, including the role of women in art, with yet another example of a female artist who is recognized only as the assistant to her genius husband. Fortunately, as the novel unfolds, we come to understand that the reality is quite different.

In Search of Peter Wolf

The history of the GDR is skillfully woven into the narrative, making it more of a central theme than mere background—just as artistic creation under both the Eastern and Western regimes is. Sophie Pointurier has successfully navigated the difficult challenge of writing a debut novel by offering such an accurate portrayal of the complex world of contemporary German art.

It goes without saying that in order to write The peripheral woman, Sophie Pointurier has conducted extensive research and drawn on her skills as a teacher-researcher. As for her fluid and engaging writing style, it’s effective. And so the investigation is gripping. It keeps us glued to the book until the mystery of Peter Wolf’s disappearance is solved.

The author has brilliantly managed to uncover the inner workings of a mysterious world of speculation, where an artist’s market value sometimes hinges solely on hearsay and a series of coincidences. This is undoubtedly the most interesting and compelling aspect of this novel: getting a firsthand look at the inner workings of an artist’s success, even before we know whether the artist is alive, dead, or even truly talented.

«He’ll suggest continuing the interview outside the office so he can show her his «own wolves.» His vanity outweighed his extremely packed schedule. No matter—they would wait for him. They took a monumental staircase that led to a series of rooms dedicated to the various art movements of the 20th^th century. *Die Mauer* was the first painting he showed her. The simplest, the most accessible, in his opinion. It was a massive canvas, three meters wide by two meters high. Hilary was immediately captivated by the power and movement it exuded. She was drawn in.
– Fascinating, isn't it?
She didn't say anything.
– What you see here is a clash between two schools, two artistic approaches. It has it all—it’s a masterful demonstration of the reconciliation of two extremes. In the background, you can very clearly see the distorted classicism of the Leipzig school, which is reinforced by the more modern style of the West German tradition. Do you see?
He came dangerously close to the painting during his demonstration. His gesture was full of passion. Hilary Brown watched him come alive. She could see everything he wanted to show her.
»It’s a call for freedom,” he continued. “It’s THE symbol of reunification. It’s simply the embodiment of it.”

Write to the author: aude.robert-tissot@leregardlibre.com

Featured image: Gerhard Richter, Yellow-green [Gelbgrün], 1982, oil on canvas, 260 × 400 cm, Baden-Baden, Museum Frieder Burda © Gerhard Richter, 2012.