The present Doodle, shown by Hamburg-based visitor artist Ramona Ring, commends the German-Jewish artist Mascha Kaléko, whose sharp sonnets and chansons earned her remarkable recognition among the scholarly cutting edge in 1930s Berlin.
On this day in 1974, Kaléko held her last perusing in Berlin’s America Memorial Library.
Mascha Kaléko was conceived Golda Malka Aufen in 1907 in Schidlow, Galicia, in what is today southern Poland. With the flare-up of World War I, she and her family fled the nation for Germany and in the long run made another home in Berlin in 1918.
As an adolescent, she started to compose verse, and inside quite a while, she accomplished a degree of VIP as papers started distributing her work all through the capital.
In Kaléko’s sonnet “Das Bißchen Ruhm” (“A Little Bit of Glory,” 2003) she figuratively composed of her distinction as plants that must be kept up with day by day care, an idea reflected in the outline of the present Doodle.
By the mid 1930s, Kaléko was a set up figure among Berlin’s abstract cutting edge. She could regularly be discovered somewhere down in discussion at the Romanische Café, the notable bohemian center frequented by prominent counterparts like Else Lasker-Schüler and Erich Kästner.
In 1933, she distributed her first book, “Das Lyrische Stenogrammheft” (“The Lyrical Shorthand Pad”), followed two years after the fact by “Kleine Lesebuch für Große” (“The Little Reader for Grown-Ups”).
Kaléko’s work cleverly caught the quintessence of every day metropolitan life during the sundown of the Weimar Republic and through humorous sections investigated profound subjects like social treachery and outcast.
After almost twenty years spent in the United States, Kaléko got comfortable Israel and kept on composing verse for an amazing remainder.
