Träumen in der Morgendämmerung

Träumen in der Morgendämmerung
A Journey Through the Pastoral Psyche of German Progressive Folk

What will you do, God, when I die? 

I am your jar (if cracked, I lie?) 

Your well-spring (if the well go dry?) 

I am your craft, your vesture I— 

You lose your purport, losing me. 

When I go, your cold house will be 

Empty of words that made it sweet. 

I am the sandals your bare feet 

Will seek and long for, wearily. 

Your cloak will fall from aching bones. 

Your glance, that my warm cheeks have cheered 

As with a cushion long endeared, 

Will wonder at a loss so weird; 

And, when the sun has disappeared, 

Lie in the lap of alien stones. 

What will you do, God? I am feared. 

Vineyard, pasture, old apple orchard, 

field that misses no spring, 

fig tree that even in ground as hard as marble 

bears fruit a hundredfold: 

Scent exudes from Your round branches. 

And You do not ask if I am watchful; 

fearless, dissolved in juices, 

Your depths rise quietly past me.

Rainer Maria Rilke (1875 – 1926) 

From: The Book of Monastic Life (1899) 

Translated by B. Deutsch, A. Yarmolinsky, and C.L. Cingolani 

“Träumen in der Morgendämmerung” (Dreaming at Dawn) is not merely a compilation; it is an invitation to drift through the mist-veiled landscapes of German progressive folk and kosmische music, where poetry, protest, and pastoral beauty merge in luminous harmony.

Opening with the melancholic introspection of Hölderlin’s “Waren wir”, the journey begins in the half-light of memory and reflection. From there, we set out with Witthüser & Westrupp, whose warm acoustic textures and gentle psychedelia in “Lasst uns auf die Reise gehn” encourage us to wander, spiritually untethered.

The spectral reverie continues with Bröselmaschine’s “Gedanken”, a raga-tinged meditation that blurs the lines between inner thought and outer space. Carol of Harvest follows with “Put on Your Nightcap”, an English-language lullaby draped in melancholic electric folk, further deepening the dream.

A playful interlude arrives in Ougenweide’s “Der Fuchs und der Rabe”, whose medieval folk-rock retelling of Aesop's fable injects whimsy and charm. Emtidi’s “Touch the Sun” then lifts us into celestial realms with crystalline vocals and synth-laced serenity, before Gila’s “This Morning” steers us into a darker, more experimental awakening; quietly intense and emotionally raw.

Zupfgeigenhansel’s “Es dunkelt schon in der Heide” roots us again in folk tradition, a haunting evocation of twilight fading into night. Hölderlin’s “Requiem für einen Wicht” follows, echoing with poetic gravitas, a lament not just for the small or forgotten, but for the fragile spirit of a fading era.

The penultimate stretch brings social commentary wrapped in theatrical funk-folk via Floh de Cologne’s “Sei ruhig, Fliessbandbaby”, a sharp yet playful critique of industrial life. Emma Myldenberger’s “Unter der Linden” then unfurls like an ancient ballad rediscovered, its winding woodwinds and modal melodies casting a spell of tranquil nostalgia.

Finally, Denise Krüger’s “Hier lebst du” offers a quiet conclusion; an intimate, grounded reflection on presence and place, sung as if whispered into the first light of dawn.

Together, these twelve pieces form a lucid, undulating soundscape; a dreamscape where the utopian visions, earthy harmonies, and poetic souls of 1970s German folk-prog commune. It is a world best entered slowly, with open ears and a quiet heart.

Easter Bunnies, Metro Store Koblenz

 

Masquerade Artwork (1979)

I have such fond memories of this strangely occult and pagan-themed book, which I remember leafing through with amazement whilst at Junior school. After decades mostly out of the public eye, the iconic treasure from Masquerade resurfaced on the market and now belongs to a collector once more. In November 2025, Sotheby’s offered the same golden hare at auction again. The pendant originally sold for £31,900 in 1988, but this time it fetched £82,550, well above its pre-sale estimate. It was bought by a private collector in Great Britain.

Masquerade is a beautifully illustrated puzzle book created in 1979 by the English artist Kit Williams. At first glance it looks like a whimsical fairy tale about a small hare named Jack who travels through a dreamlike world, but every page is quietly doing something else: hiding clues. Williams embedded riddles in the paintings, borders, and lettering so that careful readers could piece together a set of directions leading to a real, physical treasure.

That treasure was a small golden hare pendant, made of 18-carat gold and decorated with jewels. Williams buried it somewhere in the English countryside and announced that whoever solved the puzzle in the book could claim it. The idea captured the public imagination. Hundreds of thousands of people studied the illustrations with magnifying glasses, looking for patterns, hidden words, and visual jokes that might reveal the location. After nearly three years, the hare was found in Ampthill Park in Bedfordshire, though the circumstances of its discovery later caused controversy, since it was revealed that the finder had been tipped off rather than having fully solved the puzzle as intended.

The book itself became a cultural phenomenon. It essentially invented what is now called the “armchair treasure hunt,” a genre where readers try to solve elaborate puzzles from home using only what is hidden in a book. Even today, Masquerade is admired not just as a clever game but as a work of art, full of intricate, symbolic paintings that reward close attention.

Kit Williams, the creator of Masquerade, was born in 1946 in Kent, England. Trained as an artist, he wrote and illustrated the book entirely on his own, combining traditional painting techniques with a love of riddles, myths, and visual storytelling. After the success of Masquerade, he went on to design elaborate mechanical clocks for public buildings and continued working as a fine artist, producing detailed figurative paintings in oils. His reputation rests largely on how he merged art, story, and puzzle into a single experience, turning a picture book into one of the most famous real-world treasure hunts in history.

Young America’s Dilemma (1901)

The cartoon “Young America’s Dilemma (Shall I be Wise and Great, or Rich and Powerful?)” is a chromolithograph by Louis Dalrymple that appeared as an illustration in Puck magazine in 1901. It was published in New York by Keppler & Schwarzmann, the firm that owned and issued Puck at the time.

Regrettably, America made its decision.

Ida Rentoul Outhwaite (1888–1960)

Ida Rentoul Outhwaite (1888–1960) was one of Australia’s most beloved illustrators, best known for her enchanting depictions of fairies, elves, and the natural world. Her work helped shape early 20th-century Australian children’s literature and remains admired for its delicate beauty and imaginative charm.

Born Ida Sherbourne Rentoul in Melbourne, she grew up in a creative and literary family. Her father, the Reverend Dr. John Laurence Rentoul, was a noted Presbyterian minister and academic, and her sister, Annie R. Rentoul, became a writer. The two sisters often collaborated; Annie writing the stories and Ida illustrating them. From a young age, Ida showed remarkable artistic talent; her first published illustration appeared when she was just 15.

Outhwaite rose to prominence during the Edwardian and interwar periods, when fairy art and children’s fantasy were enjoying great popularity. Her illustrations often featured ethereal fairy figures nestled in distinctly Australian landscapes; among gum trees, native flowers, and animals like koalas and kookaburras. This blend of European fairy imagery with Australian flora and fauna gave her work a unique identity.

Some of her most famous works include “Elves and Fairies” (1916), “The Enchanted Forest” (1921), “Fairyland” (1926), and “The Little Green Road to Fairyland” (1922). These books combined her luminous pen-and-ink drawings and watercolours with stories by her sister Annie or other collaborators. Elves and Fairies in particular was a landmark; one of the first large-format art books printed in Australia, and an expensive luxury edition at the time, now highly collectible.

In 1909, Ida married Arthur Grenbry Outhwaite, who became both her supporter and a frequent collaborator; some works were credited jointly to “Grenbry and Ida Rentoul Outhwaite.” Together they had four children, who occasionally served as models for her fairy illustrations.

Her art is characterised by fine, detailed linework and soft washes of colour, creating an otherworldly but tender atmosphere. Critics have often noted her ability to balance whimsy with a sense of quiet realism; her fairies seem to belong to the bush as naturally as any native bird. This helped root fantasy art in an Australian sensibility and made her a pioneer of what might be called Australian fairy imagery.

By the late 1930s, her style fell somewhat out of fashion as modernism took hold, and she produced fewer works after World War II. However, her illustrations remain iconic in Australian visual culture. Today, original Outhwaite books and prints are treasured collectors’ items, and her influence can still be seen in Australian fantasy illustration.

LSD Studies on Artistic Creativity

When I was young, I remember covetously looking up on the bookshelf at my grandparent's house and, amongst their rather fine collection of Reader's Digest subscription tomes, was a book by Gordon Rattray-Taylor called the Science of Life: A Pictorial History of Biology. The first time they allowed me to look in it, I was utterly wrapped by the pictures, photos and stories within. I later became a biologist, and I sometimes think without this early influence, would I have even gone in that direction? Incidentally, my grandparents eventually gave me their copy of the book and I am pleaseed to say it is still a treasured possession. In The Science of Life is a vivid description of 1950's psychological experiments into artistic creativity, which I have summarised below. 

Beginning in 1954, psychiatrist Oscar Janiger embarked on a pioneering study to understand how LSD influenced artistic creativity. Over seven years, he administered the drug to more than 100 professional artists, who collectively produced over 250 drawings and paintings under its effects. One such experiment, believed to be part of Janiger’s research, involved an unidentified artist who was given two 50-microgram doses of LSD, spaced an hour apart. The artist was then asked to sketch a series of portraits of the doctor who had administered the drug.

Over an eight-hour period, the artist created nine portraits, each capturing the shifting perceptions induced by LSD. As they worked, they described their evolving experience, offering a rare window into the psychedelic state and its impact on the creative process. Despite years of research, Janiger later reflected that no scientific consensus had been reached on the core elements of the LSD experience or the precise mechanisms by which the drug could enhance creativity. “Even 45 years after I started my studies,” he noted, “no scientific consensus has emerged clearly defining the core elements of the LSD state. Nor has research illuminated the specific mechanisms by which LSD can be used to stimulate creativity.” Still, he hoped that future studies would build upon his work, ensuring that his early explorations were just the beginning, not the end. You can see Janiger's experiment unfold below:

20 Minutes After First Dose:
Artist Claims to Feel Normal

85 Minutes After First Dose:
I can see you clearly. I’m having a little trouble controlling this pencil.

2 hours 30 minutes after first dose:
I feel as if my consciousness is situated in the part of my body that’s now active;  
my hand, my elbow… my tongue.

2 hours 32 minutes after first dose:
I’m trying another drawing…
The outline of my hand is going weird too.
It’s not a very good drawing is it?

2 hours 35 minutes after first dose:
I’ll do a drawing in one flourish… without stopping… one line, no break!

2 hours 45 minutes after first dose: 
[Agitated and changing medium to Tempera]
I am… everything is… changed… they’re calling…
your face… interwoven… who is…

4 hours 25 minutes after first dose:
[After taking a break, changes to pen and water colour]
This will be the best drawing, like the first one, only better.

5 hours 45 minutes after first dose:
[Holding a crayon]
I think it’s starting to wear off.
This pencil is mighty hard to hold.

8 hours after first dose:

Final drawing. The intoxication has worn off.

References:

Rattray-Taylor, G. (1967). The Science of Life: A Pictorial History of Biology. Panther. 

https://www.learning-mind.com/nine-drawings-experiment/

https://www.openculture.com/2024/05/artist-draws-9-portraits-on-lsd-during-1950s-research-experiment.html

Malene Reynolds Laugesen (b.1969)

Malene Reynolds Laugesen, born in Denmark in 1969, is a Danish illustrator and painter. She studied life drawing at Glyptoteket in Copenhagen and later worked in animation before attending the Danish School of Design. In 1991 and 1992, she collaborated with Danish artist Svend Wiig Hansen. For about sixteen years, Laugesen illustrated children's books for both Danish and American markets. In 2008, she moved to Christchurch, New Zealand. Following the 2011 earthquake, she resumed painting, drawing inspiration from fairy tales and children's stories to explore themes of dreams and the subconscious.

References

https://apaletteofpoetry.wordpress.com/the-artists-2/malene-reynolds-laugesen/?utm_source=chatgpt.com  

Margaret Fuller: Until My Wings Be Grown (1839)

"I love the stern Titanic part, I love the crag, even the Drachenfels of life - I love its roaring sea that dashes against the crag - I love its sounding cataract, its lava rush, its whirlwind, its rivers generating the lotus and the crocodile, its hot sands with their white bones, patient camels, and majestic columns toppling to the sky in all the might of dust. I love its dens and silvery gleaming caverns, its gnomes, its serpents, and the tigers sudden spring. Nay! I would not be without what I know better, its ghostly northern firs, haggard with ice, its solitary tarns, tearful eyes of the lone forest, its trembling lizards and its wounded snakes dragging to secretest recesses their slow length along.

Who can know these and, other myriad children of Chaos and old night, who can know the awe the horror and the majesty of earth, yet be content with the blue sky alone. Not I for one. I love the love lit dome above, I cannot live without mine own particular star; but my foot is on the earth and I wish to walk over it until my wings be grown. I will use my microscope as well as my telescope. And oh ye flowers, ye fruits, and, nearer kindred yet, stones with your veins so worn by fire and water, and here and there disclosing streaks of golden awe, let us know one another before we part. Tell me your secret, tell me mine. To be human is also something?"

From a letter to Caroline Sturgis, Jan 27th 1839. 
Highland, Chris (Ed) (2007). Meditations of Margaret Fuller: The Inner Stream. Self Published.

Photo Credit: FrankyFromGermany via Pixabay

Bridget Bate Tichenor (1917-1990)

Bridget Bate Tichenor was a surrealist painter of fantastic art in the school of magic realism and a fashion editor. Born in Paris, she later resettled in Mexico. Bate Tichenor's painting technique was based upon 16th-century Italian tempera formulas that artist Paul Cadmus taught her in New York in 1945. She considered her work to be of a spiritual nature, reflecting ancient occult religions, magic, alchemy, and Mesoamerican mythology in her Italian Renaissance style of painting. The paintings below are mostly from her 1960's work.