Art & Culture: On the trail of athletic art

To this day, existing works from that time can be seen in public spaces in Munich. Especially in and around the place of the events of that time, the Olympic Park. Edda Lüthke was on site herself during the Olympic Games at that time, followed the creation of all the artworks and describes herself as an art connoisseur.

 

Edda Lüthke offers self-guided walks and since I am very interested in art in connection with the Olympic Games, I contacted her without further ado. Today I go together with Edda on the search for traces of Olympic art. She takes me on a journey back in time to 1972 and shows me existing artworks from that time.

I meet Edda Lüthke right at the Olympiazentrum subway stop. When I arrive there and go up the escalator of the subway, I see from a distance an older lady, with gray hair, short haircut, a colorful blouse and bright red glasses. The woman smiles and waves at me briefly.

 

Edda and I greet each other extremely warmly and I notice right away that she has a very outgoing personality. Edda is now 78 years old and a pensioner. She has an uncanny historical knowledge about all the still existing works of art that can be found in and around the Olympic Park and I am already very excited about what she will tell me today!

 

As we slowly move towards the Olympiadorf's store center, Edda briefly tells me about her journey. She is really still extremely spry for her age. Meanwhile, I immediately notice a red and pink tube system, about four meters high. I point my finger upward and Edda immediately grins. "Well, we're already in the middle of the action here," she says. "What you see here is part of the Media Line - very impressive, isn't it?" Edda tells us that the tubes stretch 1.6 kilometers across the entire Olympic Village in different colors and were designed by architect Hans Hollein. This is probably the best-known artistic design element of the village, she continues. Hans Hollein always saw architecture as a medium of communication. The Media Line is no exception. At that time, its colors were intended to serve as orientation and signposts for the athletes. A few meters further on, we reach the square on Helene-Mayer-Ring. Here, several lines are lined up parallel to each other in the colors white and yellow. The blue sky above the lines provides a great background and if you look a little to the left, you can even see the top of the Olympic Tower through the lines.

 

From a distance I can see that the media line a few meters away takes on a different color. I ask Edda if we have to go in that direction and she nods enthusiastically. "There's more waiting for us there!" she says. Said - done. We walk a little further, past the Old Mensa as well as the sign "Studentendorf" and down a small flight of stairs. In front of us are countless small concrete houses, closely lined up and colorfully painted. Edda explains to me that we are just in one of the most popular student districts of Munich. Students from all over the world live in the former Olympic women's village and give free rein to their creativity on the bungalow facades. Edda and I are very amused by the creatively painted houses with funny figures and sayings. But there are also socially critical messages and references to environmental protection and climate change. "Everything that moves the students* as well," says Edda.

 

After we have had a good look at the bungalows, we both continue walking in the direction of Connolly Street. Edda now wants to show me something very special, a kinetic sculpture by artist Ruth Kiener-Flamm. Kiener-Flamm's idea was to have five rings, one inside the other, driven by motors so that they would move, thus giving off an ever-changing image, Edda reveals. Kiener-Flamm also received an art award for her sculpture, among other things, Edda continues. Unfortunately, the work was used by children as a gymnastics object in recent years and had to be restored. Today it is no longer powered by motors, but can only be moved by hand. Of course, I try this out right away! I am very enthusiastic about the work and how you can get involved yourself and confess to Edda that I would probably never have discovered this without her!

 

As we are now heading from the Olympic Village towards the Olympic Park, Edda and I use the time to exchange a little about her impressions of the Olympic Games at that time and how she felt about the significance of art at that time. Edda also tells me that from 1912 to 1948, special art competitions were even held at the Olympic Games. "Hard to believe nowadays, but at that time painters, poets and architects received gold, silver and bronze medals for fancy categories like relief art, commercial art and medal art," Edda tells me. She explains to me that there were medals for works in architecture, literature, music, painting and sculpture. Pierre de Coubertin came up with the idea at the time. "His intention was to link sport and art," Edda mentions further. "Unfortunately, however, it was all short-lived," Edda says. Of course, I want to know more about this and she tells me that although the artists' works were initially well received and exhibitions of the artworks were also well attended, from 1936 onwards participation became less and less artists submitted their works for the Olympic Games. The interest for art stopped more and more and when after the 2nd World War Olympic Games were held again, 1948 was the last year of the artistic discipline. I am extremely impressed by Edda's knowledge and until now I could not imagine that in addition to all the athletes, artists had also competed for medals in the past. "And what about the 1972 Olympic Games in Munich, did the topic of "art" no longer play a role at that point?", I ask. "Oh very well, I can tell you a little bit about that too," Edda says. She explains to me that art was an essential part of the Olympic Games. In 1972, for the first time since 1936 and World War 2, the Olympic Games were held in Germany, more specifically in Munich. The games were characterized by diverse and bright colors, Edda tells me enthusiastically, and were called the Rainbow Games. "Red and gold were banned from the color palette because they were assigned to the last Nazi Games in 1936," Edda points out. "Silver, blue, green, yellow and orange adorned the Munich Games, inspired by the mountains and sky of Bavaria." Fittingly, we turned around one last time, towards the Olympic Village, and we are offered a beautiful view of all the skyscrapers, framed by green trees against a bright blue sky.

 

In the meantime we have crossed the Hans-Braun-Bridge and pass the Olympic Stadium and the Olympic Hall. In keeping with Edda's stories, I discover on the long metal structures of the Olympic roof exactly the colors that Edda had just described to me.

Slowly we approach Coubertin Square. In front of us is a great view of the Olympic Lake and the Theatron. From far away I can even see the Olympic Mountain. Due to the great weather I suggest Edda to make a short break and we sit down and on one of the upper steps on the meadow before the Olympic lake and enjoy the view.

 

Arriving at the Olympiasee, Edda asks me if I have ever heard of the designer Otl Aicher. I shake my head.  Edda enlightens me that Otl Aicher is still considered one of the most influential German designers and typographers and that he founded the Hochschule für Gestaltung in Ulm in 1953. The designer was largely responsible for the striking visual appearance of the 1972 Olympic Games. He was considered the "design commissioner" and developed the corporate design for the so-called Rainbow Games. Edda also recounts that he created consistent design guidelines for the Munich Olympics, ranging from the hostess uniform and a mascot named "Waldi" to tickets and posters. "And what did this "Waldi" look like?", I ask. Edda smirks a little and winks at me. "Maybe I still have a little surprise for you," she says, and I'm already looking forward to what's in store for me.  

After our little break in front of the Olympic Lake, we slowly set off again and head towards the Olympic Hall. Shortly before the Olympic Hall we stop and Edda asks me if something catches my eye. Immediately I notice two blue pictograms on a yellow background. One pictogram shows the sport of figure skating and the other the sport of handball. I express my assumption to Edda that this was probably designed by Otl Aicher, wherein Edda immediately confirms me. "Signs instead of words," Edda expresses. "Otl Aicher's intention was to convey information merely with easy-to-understand pictorial symbols that could be understood by everyone, no matter what language you speak." In my opinion, he more than succeeded and I am very impressed when Edda explains that the designer had created more than 700 such pictograms. Apparently, however, Edda wants to show me more and we continue towards the Olympic swimming hall. "We're now coming to the smallest museum in Munich, the Olympic Pavilion," Edda says euphorically. Once there, I see a roofed and glass pavilion, which was installed on behalf of the Stadtwerke München. And of course the surprise that Edda had promised me also catches my eye. The mascot "Waldi"! On the far left of the small museum, behind a pane of glass, there really is an original mascot. But there is more to come! A kind of mannequin wears the light blue hostess uniform with a blue apron, which admittedly immediately reminds me of a dirndl. "Typical Munich.", I think to myself and have to smile a bit. In the museum itself, you have the opportunity to create your own Olympic poster at an interactive station. Edda and I try that out right away, of course. She also shows me a few more pictograms that can be seen there, as well as some design objects such as colorful plates, cutlery, medals, pens and much more. Everything in the Olympic colors described by Edda and by the designer Otl Aicher.

 

We stay quite a long time in the pavilion, because there is really a lot to discover and also to read. Afterwards we decide to walk a bit further through the park, again passing the Olympic Lake and Coubertin Square, to a statue of the sculptor Martin Mayer. On the way there, I review everything Edda has told me, enjoy the beautiful weather and the great view of the large and small Olympic Lake.