Myths and Darkness in Franz von Stuck’s “The Wild Hunt”

Though The Wild Hunt may not be the most famous among his many astonishing works, it certainly has an expressive power and fascinating story.

The entire left side of the artwork is occupied by an otherworldly horse and its menacing rider. The muzzle of the horse seems to eerily imitate the outline of the beast's own skull, and his fearsome rider leans toward the viewer, as if about to trample him with his fury, gazing with cruel eyes and a severe expression partially hidden by the shadows.

This ominous figure is holding a scythe in one hand and grasping the horse’s mane with the other while the red cloak wrapped around him is stirred by the wind, heightening the impression of a mad rush.

In the background of the upper right corner, there's a group of writhing entities, white naked bodies, faces with wild eyes, skulls, riders and horses squirming and screaming, completely absorbed in their chaotic chase. Below on the right, a gorgon cries out, one arm stretched upward, and a furious, restless nest of snakes entangled on her head.

The painting is composed with a predominantly gloomy palette. Dark blue, black, brown, and hints of yellow contrast with the bright red of Wotan's cloak and the white bodies in the background. Even if the eyes of the viewer are captured by the fierce rider and his horse, and the sensation that they both may jump out of the canvas as soon as you look away, the contrast keeps you moving from one subject to the other, forcing you to take in the entire scene.

In creating this work, von Stuck was inspired by the Wild Hunt, an early Celtic myth, according to which a procession of supernatural beings appeared in the sky or on land, usually announced by eerie sounds, such as barking dogs, the thunder of hooves, hunting horns, shrieks, and whistles.

Strictly linked to pagan cults, reminiscences of wars and ancient traditions, the myth evolved over centuries, frequently taking the form of an animal-only procession– otherworldly creatures or a cavalcade led by a king or a god. Often remodeled or adapted, with different names in different countries, the Wild Hunt spread across Scandinavia, the Italian Alps, Britain, among others, overcoming borders, linguistic and cultural differences, and bringing with it the threat of death and the horrors of damnation.

Traces of the myth are found in works such as Dante’s Inferno or Boccaccio’s Decameron, both masterpieces of 14th century Italian literature, which hints at how well-known and assimilated the legend was in popular culture. Dante describes the squanderers’ punishment as being constantly chased and slaughtered, torn apart piece by piece by bitches, while Boccaccio describes a naked woman perpetually chased by a knight in a forest. 

The knight, when questioned, explains how he killed himself because of the woman’s rejection, with her regretting no part of the pain she caused him after her death. Both were condemned in death, the black knight eternally forced to chase and kill her with the help of a pack of dogs.

Stories of the Wild Hunt and its endless chase have survived through today, with modern artists representing various versions of it on canvas, but also as the myth has found its way into the contemporary world of video games, movies, comics, and books, often blended with new elements.

For example, in the novel The Sound of His Horn (1952) by Sarban– the pen name of John William Wall– a British navy officer taken as a prisoner of war in 1941 awakens 102 years later in a hospital to not only discover that he remains a prisoner of a dystopian world where the Nazis won, but also to find himself trapped in a sort of hunting ground where captives are constantly chased down by a cruel ruler, whose horde is heralded by the sound of a horn and clatter of hooves.

Sarban's is not the only version of the Wild Hunt that engaged with Nazism crossovers. Though he died in 1928 before the true rise of the Nazi party, von Stuck's work experienced ties and even eerie parallels with the horrors of that party and its legacies.

For one, von Stuck’s works were appreciated, if not by Hitler himself, then certainly by Hermann Göring, who gathered some of them in Carinhall. Von Stuck's Portrait of Two Young Ladies was also supposed to be transferred to the Führermuseum in Linz, the ambitious art museum that Hitler had planned, but never saw the light of day.

In 1945, right after the news of Hitler’s death spread, Portrait of Two Young Ladies was looted by the mob from the Führerbau– the Nazi headquarters in Munich– with hundreds of other stolen goods, and it disappeared. The lost painting later reappeared in 2017 on sale in the Cologne auction house Van Ham. However, it was withdrawn on the request of the German government, which claimed ownership of the painting.

In von Stuck's earlier rendition of the hunt, The Wild Chase, there even seems to be an eerie connection to Hitler himself. This earlier painting shows much of the same style and features of the latter, The Wild Hunt. 

There is a rider with a red cloak on a black horse, this time located on the right side of the canvas, and a group of figures– naked bodies, dogs, and hellish beasts– screaming and agonizing in the background. The palette is slightly lighter but colder.

This painting, however, has a peculiarity that makes it somehow more disturbing, as upon closer inspection, the horseman looks like Adolf Hitler. 

That and the eerie coincidence that the painting was finished in 1889, the year of Hitler’s birth, has fueled a number of imaginative theories, such as a predestination of the Führer to be an harbinger of death and chaos, or simply the fact that he was so fascinated by Franz's work that he shaped his own image based on the character of that painting.

Speculations aside, the existence of a painting with something as purely chaotic as the Wild Hunt as its theme, and with a leader that looks so similar to the protagonist of one of the cruelest and bloodiest killing frenzies to ever happen in human history, is certainly chilling, to say the least.

Sadly, for a long time, von Stuck was almost forgotten. Even before his death, the world slowly lost interest in his art and, during the decades after, his incredible mansion fell into ruin. Built in 1897, von Stuck was inspired by Arnold Böcklin’s painting Villa by the Sea. A unique masterpiece itself, von Stuck himself designed the architectural elements, furniture, decorations, gardens, and other details both inside and outside.

It was only again in the 1960s that people showed a renewed interest in von Stuck and his works. In 1968, for example, his villa was restored and opened to the public as a museum. From then on, the world was once more becoming witness to the multifaceted talent of this amazing artist.