dArt International Magazine

by Steve Rockwell

In 1940 Murray Burnett, co-wrote Everybody Comes to Rick’s with Joan Alison. The play, though not produced, served as a model for Rick’s Café in the story that became Casablanca. Rick’s Café had not been a complete screenwriter invention. A few years prior, Burnett and his wife had stumbled on a café in the south of France. The experience stayed with them. Its mixture of refugees, expatriates, and assorted adventurers, mingling in the shadow of an impending war, had made the moment unforgettable.

When released in 1942, Casablanca became one of the most influential films in Hollywood history. Somehow, popular entertainment, political drama, and romance, molded into something durable that withstood the test of time. Casablanca became art without announcing itself as “art.”

La Belle Aurore, the café that Burnett experienced in 1938 in the south of France, may have been just one of many potential models for Rick’s Café. It has been suggested that the American Bar at Hotel Eggers in Gothenburg, Sweden, might also have fit the bill. The hotel itself was built in 1859, making it one of the oldest continuously-operating hotels in Europe. Their American Bar was completed in 1884, predating the fictional Rick’s Café Américain of Casablanca by over 60 years.

In 1942, Hotel Eggers hosted a similar cast of wartime characters. Already, by the 1890s, besides its American Bar and restaurant, they had the Moriska Café – Moorish, Moroccan atmosphere of their own. Humphrey Bogart’s Rick Blaine is neither the conventional romantic hero nor the traditional action hero. Though his shell of tough guy cynicism eventually breaks, his public declaration of “neutrality” is clear, “I stick my neck out for nobody.” At Hotel Eggers the “tough guy” had been Ebba Eggers. In 1942 at her husband Axel’s passing, she went from liquor cashier at the American Bar to full operational management. By reputation, she ran the “velvet” establishment with an iron hand.

Neutrality at Eggers was strictly enforced by the Swedish Secret Service. While a British naval attaché might be sipping a dry martini at one counter, a Nazi trade delegate might be sitting in the adjacent velvet booth. At Rick’s Café, these bristling edges would have been smoothed by Sam’s piano and song, anchoring the room emotionally. Played by Dooley Wilson, he is one of the film’s most important supporting characters.

Eggers had an equally legendary musical connection, only real. Opera tenor Jussi Björling made the American Bar at Eggers his personal playground. While spies were mapping out shipping lanes in the corners, Björling was unwinding at the bar, holding court with admirers. He had made this his sanctuary away from an exhausting global performance schedule. It had to be Room 136, on the first floor, with a balcony overlooking Drottningtorget. Björling became an international star after performances in Vienna and with the Metropolitan Opera in New York becoming his principal international stage.

The olive in the martini at the American Bar was sometimes a ball bearing. Hotel Eggers sat just 78 steps from the Gothenburg Central Station, ideal for tracking human movement. Here, the intelligence battleground in Gothenburg centred on a component vital to both the Nazi Luftwaffe and and Allied aircraft production – AB SKF ball bearings. The Achilles’ heel of wartime engineering, ball bearings were precision component required from Spitfires to submarine instruments.

Situated in an Eggers room within eye-shot of the train station, was Sir George Binney, the British organizer behind Operation Bridford. He ran Operation Bridford, the wartime blockade-running operation that brought Swedish ball bearings, high-speed steel and other strategic materials to Britain. Gothenburg SKF was the world’s leading manufacture of these parts. Binney utilized a fleet of modified high-speed Motor Gun Boats, disguised as civilian merchant vessels. MV Gay Viking was the first pierce the German blockade, supplying 40 tons of high-grade ball bearings and specialized machine tools.

Ebba’s tenure at Hotel Eggers turned out to be short. On February 12, 1948, she was a passenger aboard the Danish Air Lines DC-3 Sejr Viking, flying from Copenhagen toward Zürich with a planned stop at Frankfurt. The aircraft crashed near Ulrichstein, Germany. Ebba was among those killed. The hotel’s own history says her death brought the Eggers family era to an end.

I will now make my case, that our 1951 family stay in Gothenburg was at Hotel Eggers. Arriving as we did by rail from Stockholm, in just 78 steps we had a temporary home in a white-framed square with a courtyard. As a five-year-old by the window, after endless hours, the structure etched into my mind permanently. Later in life, it took the form of a series of fabricated panels, based on meditations that had begun in Zurich, Switzerland. In that sense, I began something in Zurich that for Ebba Eggers, remains unfulfilled.

by Steve Rockwell

It’s a joke readymade. My painting of Marcel Marceau was “abandoned” on Melrose Avenue on April 1, 1994 in Los Angeles. Yes, Mime on Melrose had been a sight gag – a “silent” French actor trapped within a canvas in Hollywood, where no one could hear him scream. Of course, revenge would come in the form of five Oscars in 2011 at the 84th Academy Awards.

The Artist became the first silent film, to win best picture since Wings in 1929. The Michel Hazenavicius film pulled off a historic sweep, Jean Dujardin, being the first French actor ever to win the category. So, there! To rub it in, directing, score, and costume took the remaining Oscars.

My own bias for the visual sense developed when the world fell silent as a child. When I lost my hearing due to enlarged adenoids, I compensated by just looking harder. Images of the operation itself, as a five-year-old, are still quite clear: arms being strapped to the chair, an anesthesia mask much like a small lamp shade raised to my face – then coming to, seeing the doctor waving surgical tweezers with some whitish tissue.

In the field of philosophy, the cone of “silence” seemed to have fallen over one particular thinker. Apparently, Friedrich Nietzsche had been fearful. In a confession to a friend, even the mere mention of this individual’s name publicly, might have resulted in a charge of plagiarism against Nietzsche. Karl Marx took the opposite approach. Together with Engels, they spent a year writing a 500 page attack-book in an effort to silence him. One of the most obsessive, explosive feuds in the history of political theory was the result.

Marcel Duchamp had called “Philosopher X” the primary intellectual influence on his entire artistic output. Here he found the catalyst for his break from conventional painting and subsequent invention of the ready-made. “X” argued that State, Religion, Humanity, Morality, and Truth are “spooks,” they being fixed ideas employed to subjugate the individual ego. Applied to the art world, Art, Taste, and Genius are “social spooks,” that required systematic demolition. In practice, a state of personal autonomy might be achieved through absolute indifference to societal expectations.

Readers of philosophy would recognize the mystery thinker as Max Stirner. At the core, Stirner rejected authority in any form. These illusions, mental ghosts, or “spooks,” having been banished, a “creative nothing” was possible. The ego now free from all ideologies, situated in a state of total intellectual neutrality – a clean slate. Stirner’s 1844, The Ego and Its Own, was the career-defining work that Duchamp discovered while staying in Munich around 1912.

The concept of a societal clean slate has a precedent in the French Revolution, 1793 being “Year One.” With history erased, time reset, the birth of a new world could now be governed strictly by reason. Churches across France were stripped of religious imagery, now dubbed “Temples of Reason.” Opera actress, Sophie Momoro, portrayed the Goddess of Reason in the newly-minted Festival of Reason at the Notre-Dame Cathedral.

There are thinkers, and there are doers. To implement the wiping of the cultural slate, doers are required. The tool, during the Reign of Terror, became the guillotine – a humane, rational instrument of social progress, egalitarian and swift. Another “Year Zero” was attempted in Cambodia. Somewhere between 1.5 and 3 million people died in the Killing Fields during Pol Pot’s Khmer Rouge regime (1975-1979). Coming from a wealthy background, Pol Pot was educated in France, but had been a mediocre student. He had a political awakening that led him to co-found the Marxist Circle and join the French Communist Party.

During the Pol Pot regime, 1976 was the transitional year when the Khmer Rouge officially codified their radical society. Cambodia had now ceased to exist by name, replaced by a totalitarian agrarian slave-state. On January 5 of that year, the Democratic Kampuchea abolished all private property, cancelled the national currency, outlawed all religions, and stripped away basic human rights. Up until 1976 the public had not formally known who was running the country.

In 1976 Silent Movie is released. Mel Brooks played Mel Funn, a once-successful Hollywood director attempting a comeback. He persuaded a failing studio to finance an extraordinary project: a full-length silent movie. To make his imaginary film commercially irresistible, Funn tried to recruit major stars. Brooks therefore turned the film into a parade of contemporary celebrity cameos: Burt Reynolds, Paul Newman, Liza Minnelli, Anne Bancroft, James Caan, and Marcel Marceau. They appeared essentially as themselves.

The principal theatrical poster was illustrated by John Alvin, whose design turns Brooks into a comic silent-film hero, with the huge three-dimensional SILENT MOVIE title and Brooks making the classic “shhh” gesture.

The joke is that Silent Movie itself is essentially a silent film: without spoken dialogue, communication relies on physical performance, title cards, music, and sound effects. The single exception is Marcel Marceau uttering the film’s only audible word. – NON!