In November 1920, Klee took a holiday in the Ticino, the southernmost canton of Switzerland. He was there visiting Jawlensky and Marianne von Werefkin, two of the painters who had worked with Kandinsky and Gabriele Münter in the Bavarian Alps a dozen years earlier and who continued to paint in vibrant colors and an animated style. While he was enjoying himself in this region of steep mountains and clear lakes, he received a telegram from Walter Gropius. It was brief and to the point: “Dear Paul Klee: We are unanimous in asking you to come and join us as a painter at the Bauhaus—Gropius, Feininger, Engelmann, Marcks, Itten, Klemm.”43
Since Itten, the dominant faculty member, was a renowned taskmaster, it was anticipated that, by contrast, students could come to Klee if they wanted more subtle guidance. Some feared that Klee would have nothing practical to contribute and was too immersed in “art for art’s sake,” but Klee himself had no inkling of their skepticism when, on November 25, he embarked for Weimar.
The train from Munich took him to Jena, where he arrived shortly before 4 a.m. and had to wait two and a half hours for his connection. Lingering over a cup of tea in the station, he had a wonderful sense of new worlds unfolding. The details of the timetable and the forward movement were intoxicating. Happily boarding the train that left at precisely 6:25 a.m., observing the first traces of dawn on the flat Thuringian landscape, where the sweeping fields and vineyards were punctuated by the red-tiled roofs and slender church steeples of small villages, he was in high spirits when he arrived in Weimar. On arriving at the Bauhaus, Klee was dutifully welcomed by Itten and Muche.
Informed that Gropius would not meet him until noon, Klee explored the town with its medieval walls and narrow streets. He was conscious that Goethe had laid out the English park he had strolled through that morning; “the German Athens” was even more distinguished than he had imagined. The meeting with Gropius, however, did not go as anticipated. Klee had been drawn to Weimar by the prospect of an annual salary of 16,500 marks and a large, free studio, so when Gropius began their conversation by asking him if he would like to be the master of the bookbindery, Klee’s spirits sank. He replied that, other than his love of reading, he had no reason to be involved with this particular craft. Gropius, as always, had a diplomatic sally. “Don’t worry, none of our formmeisters are experts in what they do. That’s what the craftsmen are there for. You would teach theory.”44
Gropius succeeded in persuading Klee that he might apply his ideas on art to any subject being taught at the Bauhaus; it didn’t take long before Klee was convinced that this was the right place for him. Together they worked out the details of Klee’s teaching contract; all that remained was to have it ratified by the Thuringian government. That official accord would allow Klee to start teaching in January 1921. Initially he would spend two weeks of every month in Weimar until he found adequate housing for him and his wife and young son, as well as Fritz the cat, all of whom would remain in Munich until he had done so.
GROPIUS DID NOT WANT Klee at the Bauhaus purely for his talent. The director had calculated that Klee’s presence on the faculty would help the school forge connections with the international art world. Indeed, it was an instant PR coup. The appointment increased awareness of the Bauhaus among many people who might advance the school’s purposes, among them important gallery owners, museum directors, collectors, and critics. Klee’s work was regularly included in shows at several museums led by visionaries who might now want to establish further connection with the Bauhaus, and the impending publication of two important books about Klee gave further luster to the school.
Klee’s sister Mathilde was a major behind-the-scenes player in his decision to make the move. Mathilde assisted with the organizing and selling of his work; she accepted drawings as payment only because he insisted on it. He knew that Mathilde would need to assume even more responsibility if he left Munich for Weimar. When he let her know that he would be able to paint with renewed intensity thanks to the unprecedented financial security that would come with his Bauhaus salary, Mathilde told her brother she would gladly take on the extra burden. With her support, Klee accepted Gropius’s proposal.