[BRIEF NOTE] Elsa von Freytag-Loringhoven

[rfmcdonald]

I was taken somewhat aback to see, on the front of section G of today's Toronto Star, "the Baroness", Elsa von Freytag-Loringhoven. I learned about her in a course that I took on American modernist literature at UPEI that happened to be taught by the leading world expert on the Baroness. Since this was a literature course, we concentrated on her avant-garde poetry, on works like "Heart (Dance of Shiva)," originally published in the September-December 1920 issue of The Little Review.

Around me hovers presence that thou art,
secretely atmosphere draws cloudy——dense——
perfume athwart mine cheekbone swings intense——
smile on mine lip——
I kiss thee——
with mine heart !

Ja——with mine heart——
that can perform fine tricks
since it is housed with wizzardry and art—— !
soul——how enchanted art thou——
by such heart ! !

Ho !——lover far——

Her professional biography was arguably at least as fascinating as her published work.

Writer Felix Paul Greve hopes to elope to America with the young poet and performer, Elsa Hildegard Plotz. Unfortunately, both remain entangled with past spouses. Meanwhile, Elsa's poetry is all the rage in Berlin's cabarets; her nonsensical-hysterical proto-Dada texts are performed by the electric, outrageous actress Else Lasker-Schüler (1869-1945). Finally, in 1909, Greve stages his own suicide, assisted by Elsa, and secretly escapes via Canada to America. Elsa obtains some consolation money from Greve's publisher and joins Greve -- who proceeds to desert her a few years later in Kentucky.

In 1913, Elsa became a baroness by marrying Baron von Freytag-Loringhoven and quickly began to use her aristocratic title as an avant-garde weapon to assault bourgeois taste. She single-handedly presented futuristic fashion to the bohemians of Greenwich Village, scandalizing her neighbors by parading semi-nude along 14th Street, barely covered with feathers.

Parading with her dogs, skimpily dressed with her bald head covered with vermilion, she said "shaving one's head is like having a new love experience." At times she purloined her art materials from five-and-dime stores and managed to escape arrest more than once by leaping from paddy wagons to freedom.

The Little Review put her on the map in 1918 by publishing 20 of her poems and more than a dozen of her essays and notes. The magazine thereupon gave the baroness a forum for the next four years, establishing her among Dada luminaries. The first movie made by Duchamp and Man Ray was about Elsa, titled The Baroness Shaves her Pubic Hair. Sadly, only a handful of stills have been salvaged by history.

Courageous to an insane degree, Elsa was able to provoke and challenge everyone. She recited her poetry on the street, to passers-by, wearing nothing but tea-balls on her breasts. She was feared and admired in verse by the likes of Ezra Pound, Hart Crane, William Carlos Williams, Wallace Stevens and Djuna Barnes. Elsa's death by gas in 1927 at her home in Paris left her friends wondering if it was an accident or suicide.

It's good to know that more and more people are recognizing the Baroness. There's even going to be a book launch of two Baroness-related titles this coming Wednesday at the Hard Rock Café on 279 Yonge Street. Perhaps I'll attend.