Primitivism in German Ethnology, Art, and Theory by Andrew I. Cavin A dissertation sub

558 Pages·2014·20.36 MB·English

Encountering Others, Imagining Modernity:
Primitivism in German Ethnology, Art, and Theory

by

Andrew I. Cavin

A dissertation submitted in partial fulfillment
of the requirements for the degree of
Doctor of Philosophy
(History)
in The University of Michigan
2014

Doctoral Committee:

Professor Scott Spector, Chair
Professor Geoff Eley
Professor Nancy Rose Hunt
Associate Professor Gayle Rubin
There was also something known as Expressionism. Nobody could say
just what it was, but the word suggests some kind of squeezing-out;
constructive visions, perhaps, but inasmuch as the contrast with
traditional art revealed them as being destructive, too, we might simply
call them structive, which commits one to nothing either way, and a
structive outlook sounds pretty good.

—Robert Musil, The Man Without Qualities
© Andrew I. Cavin
2014
Dedication

for mom, in memory — a frolic

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Acknowledgments

This dissertation would not have been possible without the community of amazing
people and institutions that made a life of research and writing possible. I am thankful to have
studied at the University of Michigan, where I had the good fortune to learn from such fine
thinkers and educators as Sueann Caulfield, Greg Dowd, Kathleen Canning, Thomas Trautmann,
Ron Suny, Müge Göçek, Marty Pernick, Dario Gaggio, Alf Lüdtke, and Ulrike Weckel. Fred
Amrine in particular offered encouragement early on, serving as a model of the joy and passion
of academic work and undergraduate instruction. Our discussions about German romanticism
shaped my wonderings, though my research took a different direction.
The history department at Michigan provided a vibrant place to learn and grow, and the
department of Germanic languages and literatures kindly welcomed me into their world. I
benefitted from the mirth and brilliance of Sara Jackson, Seth Howes, Simon Walsh, Kathryn
Sederberg, Andrea Rottmann, Emma Thomson, Naomi Vaughan, Jennie Cain, Catherine
Coombes, Sam Heidepriem, Mary Hennessy, Hannah McMurray, Ariana Orozco, Cilli Pogodda,
Kathryn Holihan, Nic Heckner, Anne Berg, Emily Price, Elspeth Martini, Trevor Kilgore, Crystal
Chung, Richard Antaramian, and David Spreen. The history department staff, in particular
Kathleen King, Lorna Altstetter, Diane Denney, and Sheila Coley, helped me jump through all
the hoops of academic life with many vital reminders and explanations, and they did so with
such grace and good-natured warmth they made me feel at home.
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I am grateful to my undergraduate instructors Jocelyn Hoy, Alva Noe, and Robert Goff
for their inspiration and for helping me find my way into grad school years later. Thanks to my
former colleagues at H.W. Wilson, Cliff Thompson, Mari Rich, and Miriam Helbok, for teaching
me about the necessity of having good readers and wise editors. Thanks to Matthew Newmann
for the translations from Homer, and to Andrea Sartorius for help with some of the tricky
German translations (and for the joys of our friendship). The bright and charming students of
my class on European imperialism helped me see my familiar material in fun new ways.
The research for this project would not have been possible without funding from the
Deutscher Akademischer Austausch Dienst, the Conference Group for Central European History,
the Horace Rackham School of Graduate Studies, and the University of Michigan. Much
gratitude goes to the helpful staff of the Ethnologisches Museum in Berlin, in particular the
patient assistance from Anja Zenner. Also in Berlin, thanks to the staff at the Brücke Museum,
the Humboldt University Library, and the Staatsbibliothek; in Ann Arbor, thanks to the
University of Michigan Library and the Knowledge Navigation Center, especially Caitlin Geier.
The material presented here owes its life to the many conversations I’ve had over the
years with thoughtful interlocutors. Thanks to the members of our informal reading group in
Berlin: Kathryn Sederberg, Michael Powers, Brett Darling, and Synne Borgen. Back in Ann Arbor,
Kathryn, Jennie Cain, and Gene Cassidy taught me how to improve through their feedback as
well as through their own exciting work. The participants of the Midwest German History
Workshop welcomed me into their ranks and motivated me with stimulating and agenda-
setting discussions.
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I presented early chapter drafts at the German Studies Association Annual Conference,
the Mid-America Conference on History, and the Umwege Conference at Brown. Thanks to the
organizers of the latter, Michael Powers, Benjamin Brand, and Eric Foster, and a special thanks
to Gerhard Richter, Zachary Sng, and Dennis Johannssen for their deft criticisms, which I won’t
claim to have redressed, but which were strongly in my mind as I worked on revisions. Thanks
to the participants of the Primitivist Paradoxes panels at the GSA: Josh Dittrich, David Pan, Neil
Donahue, Dennis Johannssen, Seth Howes, Andrea Meyertholen, Stephen Grollman, and Robert
Lemon. I am grateful to David Pan for discussing his work with me; he has been an inspiration.
I owe a great debt to the participants of the 2013 School of Criticism and Theory, for
countless eye-opening discoveries, including the realization that one could compress so much
fun, natural beauty, and intellectual engagement into so short a time span. I am especially
grateful to Jane Bennett and the members of her exciting seminar for making new materialism
come alive. Thanks also to Akeel Bilgrami and Achille Mbembe for helpful feedback, and thanks
to Thea Whitman for your sharp questions and energy for living.
Big thanks to the members and guests of the Avant Garde Interest Group for the
intellectual adventures we shared, especially Johannes von Moltke, Kerstin Barndt, Rebecca
Porte, Carrie Wood, Vlad Beronja, Brad Goerne, Renee Scherer, Mary Hennessy, Hannah
McMurray, Meghan Forbes, Sasha Bošković, Jindrich Toman, Ainsley Morse, Bela Shayevich,
and Dave Choberka. Special thanks to Jean McKee for all the help. Much gratitude to Mary
Gluck for her interest and encouragement.
Several friends helped at key stages. Sara Jackson and Jeff Cooley gave me a home when
I landed in Berlin. Sara in particular answered countless questions over the years, with great
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advice about everything from writing applications to watching trilogies. Ross Bowling
encouraged me to take everything very seriously. Kirsten Leng provided much-needed
encouragement (and a bike helmet) when I was struggling with the self-doubts of the early
research period. Seth Howes offered invaluable advice on drafts. Thanks to Katherine May
Lewis for being a supernova and expanding my horizons. Conversations with Paul Feinberg,
Dana Dart-McLean, Katya Mishuris, and Pedro Monaville triggered important realizations.
Rachel Smith and Julie Showers kept my inbox filled with enough distracting material to publish
(or undo) a series of dissertations. To Kathryn Sederberg I am enduringly grateful, for all the
emails with suggestions and ideas, for reading all the drafts, for providing so much emotional
support as the finish line came into view. From Colin Holbrook and Kevin Haywood I’ve learned
a lot—including important lessons in doing everything wrong. Ray Patton had sage advice on
writing and working and teaching, but I’m especially thankful for his friendship and his
knowledge of cheesewallets. Simon Walsh kept me going with his mischievous camaraderie,
witty aspersions, and donuts from Dom’s.
Thanks to my incredible dissertation committee for their unfailing patience and for not
losing faith when I went off the radar or took an unexpected turn. Gayle Rubin has been an
inspiration since early on, and I am grateful for her support and keen observations. I am deeply
beholden to Nancy Hunt for her enthusiasm and kindness over the years, and for staying on
board even as the project shifted directions. Our conversations always left me filled with more
great ideas than I could ever hope to follow up on. Geoff Eley has been deep well of good
advice since our first meeting, when he spoke to a nervous prospective student as though I
were already a sure-footed grad student, and later when he treated a nervous grad student as a
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colleague. He taught me much about how to become a better historian, a better reader, and a
better thinker. Heartfelt thanks to Scott Spector, for patiently wading through the messy drafts;
for the uncanny ability to target key ideas and relationships; for attracting my interests toward
the fin de siècle and a new set of questions; for always pointing me in the right direction, or at
least trying to, and not holding it against me when I failed to follow his good advice—he has
been an example of intellectual generosity.
My deepest thanks go to my family and loved ones. The love and support from my
parents, Ben and Doreen Cavin, have helped me through it all. It seems that I come from a
family of perseverators, perfectors of the ability to sustain an eager interest in the seemingly
minute and puzzling, sometimes to the bafflement and consternation of others. My father’s
fascination with the history of English monarchy, the Doukhobors, Beria, and a million things
besides set the tone, as did his joy in flipping through old encyclopedias and his use of a mantel
while speculating endlessly about questions we could never answer. Thanks to my mother for
her love, her crazy sense of humor, for helping me get through those anguishing elementary
school writing assignments that took me hours longer than they should have—and for teaching
me to frolic, no matter what. I dearly wish she could have been here at the finish.
Thanks to my sister Lise Cavin, whose imagination excels all bounds and whose honesty
sets a standard, whose life and struggles are so close to my heart. Thanks Lise for teaching me
the difference between being sleepy, exhausted, tired, weary, etc. . . . from you I learned the
joy in fine distinctions. My brother Aaron Cavin encouraged me to go graduate school and is the
reason I miraculously made it through. No one has been a more fundamental source of support,
helping me weather a storm of doubts and uncertainties, and inspiring me with his Thartax-
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level intelligence, compassion, and charisma. Though younger in years, he turned the tables on
me and has now become my role model, an example of how life should be lived, laughed, loved
to the fullest. In living well he is only excelled by Katie Krieger, his extraordinary wife, the
funnest and dearest person I know.
Thank you to Shaina Feinberg, for making not just this life but any life possible; and still
more than that, for somehow making me believe that anything was possible.
And finally, to Catherine Calabro, for showing up just in time to celebrate—and for being
so exceptionally good at it!

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