Ludwig Knaus

Johann Meyer, Dresden (by circa 1898)
Sale: Galerie Hugo Helbing, Frankfurt, May 11, 1936, lot 48, illustrated
Joseph Richard and Blanche Hoff Dolan, Dayton, Ohio
Private Collection (by descent from the above)
Private Collection, Woodstock, Connecticut

Paris, Salon, 1867, no. 826 (as Son altesse en voyage)
Berlin, Akademie, 1868

Ludwig Pietsch, Knaus, Leipzig, 1896, pp. 37-8, illustrated opp. p. 28, no. 20
Friedrich von Boetticher, Malerwerke des neunzehnten jahrhunderts: Beitrag zur kunstgeschichte, Leipzig, 1898, vol. 1, p. 45, no. 50
Else Müller-Knaus, "Erinnerungen an Ludwig Knaus," Ludwig Knaus 1829-1910, exh. cat., Museum Wiesbaden and travelling, 1979, p. 104 (and listed in the "Biographische Übersicht," p. 11, as lost) 
Bernd Küster, Ludwig Knaus: der Zeichner, Gifkendorf, 2001, p. 34

The following condition report was kindly provided by Simon Parkes Art Conservation, Inc.: This painting is in very good condition. The canvas is unlined and still on its original stretcher. There are no reinforcements on the reverse of the original canvas. Although the canvas could be relaxed and slightly tightened, it certainly does not need to be lined or supported in any way. The painting is quite noticeably dirty and may have never been cleaned. There are a few cracks that have developed in the dark coats of the gentleman on the left and in the horses on the right. There have been a few tiny retouches added to these cracks in the horses, but it seems that there are no other retouches to the picture. The painting is obviously in extremely good condition with great potential for improvement.
"This lot is offered for sale subject to Sotheby's Conditions of Business, which are available on request and printed in Sotheby's sale catalogues. The independent reports contained in this document are provided for prospective bidders' information only and without warranty by Sotheby's or the Seller."

After years spent living in Paris and Berlin, in 1866 Knaus moved to Dusseldorf; while his new home was under construction, he travelled with his family through Hesse in Southwest Germany, spending extended periods in Weisbaden and Schwalm.  The villages provided ample inspiration for the artist, who had established his reputation with genre work depicting lively scenes from rural life. Knaus sketched the autumnal landscape of Hesse and its local people, many of whom would serve as models for Hoheit auf Reisen.  Among the young and old villagers gathered to greet visiting government officials is Mr. Semler, a retired school teacher, here nervously clutching his hat before the proud visiting dignitary (the “highness” of the title), and Knaus’ gardener Mr. Weissborn, shown hobbling on his crutch behind young children, including the artist’s own daughters, pushing and peering at the men in their fine uniforms (Müller-Knaus, p. 104). While Knaus’ composition likely alludes to contemporary events, upon its submission to the Paris Salon of 1867 and a subsequent showing in Berlin, critics celebrated his brilliant ability to capture the individual personalities of the visitors and the many onlookers. The year brought further fame to Knaus when he received the cross of the legion d’honneur from Napoleon III, yet it was Hoheit auf Reisen that seemed to occupy most of the attention of critics from Germany, France, and the United States.  An American critic for The Chromolithograph noted that when shown in Berlin, Hoheit auf Reisen was the “one picture by Knaus that always has a crowd before it,” the number of spectators rivaled only by the “about thirty persons” in the painting “assembled to see his Highness, and every one of them is a study…. No verbal description can do justice to this very clever picture, one of the great merits of which is that, while it is extremely humorous, it is perfectly free from exaggeration or caricature” (“Art Exhibition of Berlin,” The Chromolithograph, October 3, 1868, p. 8).  Despite the accolades at the time, Hoheit auf Reisen has largely been known only by a late nineteenth century engraving and black and white illustration in a 1936 Frankfurt auction catalogue — the remarkable composition has long been considered lost, only recently re-emerging in the United States to now entice a new audience to join the crowd.