Metal grave markers at the Laventie German Military Cemetery, Laventie, France. A plowed field is in the background. © 2013 by John M. Shea
"5.7. Splendid weather these days cheers me up, as much as this is possible. Under my very eyes, people are plowing all day long, and from my desk I can see the most beautiful scenes of nature. Moreover, all the apple trees are beginning to bloom. Spring again, the second out here! And another? . . . one day it will all have to end, after all, whether they want it or not. The phonograph is plaguing the barracks again. Poisoned sausages are of no avail: it won't eat them."
Paul Klee's diary entry for May 7, 1918. The artist served with the air corps, varnishing the wings and fuselages of airplanes, transporting airplanes to the front, and, from the beginning of 1918, working as assistant paymaster, a position that meant he no longer needed to fear being transferred to the front, and that left him time to read and work. He would complain of the phonograph again on May 28: 'While I am thinking about this, the phonograph grinds tirelessly. Heads grin around it, devilish masks peer in through the window. The beasts are enjoying themselves. There must be some reason for the fact that there is always a piece of hell near me. This one is at least quite mild. Only a reflection of the real one.'
The Diaries of Paul Klee 1898-1918, Edited, with an Introduction by Felix Klee by Paul Klee, 392 (and 393), copyright © 1964 by the Regents of the University of California, publisher: University of California Press, publication date: 1968
1918-05-07, 1918, May, phonograph, Laventie plowed field
