Napoleonic glory – and misery: The French Emperor in his coronation finery (painting, ca 1810) and his defeated army retreating from Russia in the painting “In der Gegend von Smorgony, 3. Dezember 1812” (watercolor 1827–1830).

A major exhibition in Bonn reveals the two faces of Napoleon – the destroyer and the regenerator – By Stefan Lüddemann

It looks like a child’s drawing but there is nothing innocent about it. In January 1806, with just a few strokes of the pen, Napoleon outlined the progression of the Battle of Austerlitz for the man who would later become the King of Bavaria, Maximilian I. A few dashed lines, a few swirling scribbles: The terse brevity of the abstract specimen demonstrates the self-styled emperor’s view that his quick-fire decisions are non-negotiable.

Napoleon anticipated what will happen on the battlefield and with his sketch, he quite literally drew a line under old European power structures. The defeat of the Austrians and the Russians at Austerlitz triggered the abdication of Francis II, the last Holy Roman emperor – thereby ushering in an epochal turning point in European history.

This sketch, with its modest proportions of just 18 by 20 centimeters, now features as an eloquent exhibit in the major exhibition, “Napoleon and Europe – Dream and Trauma” at the Art and Exhibition Hall of the Federal Republic of Germany in Bonn. The small piece of paper reveals the entire Napoleon package: as a genius of strategic thought, a master of rapid decision-making and a virtuoso in the art of unscrupulousness.

The 12 sections of the show, which is opulently furnished with 400 exhibits, do not recreate the portrayals of the great historical paintings of the era around 1800. They also do not echo the indiscriminate adulation of a figure that has so often been afforded near mythical status. German and French exhibition planners display a contemporary image of Napoleon, unveiling him as a master of self-promotion and as the motor for a sustainable movement of ongoing renewal in Europe as a whole. The emperor of the French, the man who was just as much a traitor to the great revolution that began in 1789 as the man who brought it to an end, is not discernible through biographical details. Curators have instead focused on Napoleon’s self-styled images, artists’ perceptions and the technical, legal and administrative innovations that resulted from his powerful impetus.

A more lasting impression is left by the exhibition’s unassuming highlights. For example, a four-part measurement device is no more than eight centimeters long when folded up. The device, finely carved out of ivory, converts the measurements of major trading hubs of Cologne, Paris, Amsterdam and the Rhineland. Today, the conversion instrument reveals a Europe where under the influence of Napoleon, borders were not only shifting but trade links were also increasing. The measuring rule provides symbolic evidence of European rapprochement during the Napoleonic era, even if this occurred under duress.

A copy of a particular book bearing Napoleon’s name looks rather more magnificent than the small implement. The “Napoleonic Code,” the reformed package of laws initiated by the emperor himself, is displayed in Bonn as the personal copy of its namesake. The velour cover wears the insignia of imperial power like an ostentatious gown. On the reverse side of the volume, which is in a protective casket, the letter “N” is flaunted no less than three times. Napoleon was himself only too aware of the lasting importance of this package of laws.

While exhibition curators certainly focus on his achievements, they also highlight Napoleon’s ill-judged practice of putting family members in central positions of power within a European power structure. And they also highlight clearly and perceptively the cruel underside of the polished imperial sheen – the suffering of the millions who died or were wounded on the battlefield.

Napoleon’s disruptive energy exerted pressure in many realms including medicine. The numerous human victims of the military campaigns put doctors in a tight spot, and they devised new ways of amputating limbs of the wounded. Dominique-Jean Baron Larrey, an unflinching doctor, acquired the reputation of operating on the battlefield with the same audacity that Napoleon himself demonstrated in his strategic decision-making. The martial surgical instruments appear outrageous and incredible today, just like the large photograph of a mass grave uncovered by researchers in 2002 near Vilnius. Soldiers of the Grande Armée, Napoleon’s weapon against Russia, troops that succumbed to diseases and cold on the arduous return journey, lie buried in gruesome circumstances here and in other locations.

Notwithstanding this, fascination with Napoleon continues to resonate today. The emblematic bicorne hat form of the erstwhile emperor remains fascinating, as does the gardener’s apron that the exiled Napoleon used on the island of St. Helena. Napoleon successfully honed his own image throughout his life. With his distinctive clothing, and the hand tucked into his tunic, the emperor of the French rapidly advanced to something that would be described today as a trademark. Napoleon molded his own image into an icon, thereby winning what was perhaps his most important battle – over the creation of legends and the images of memory.

Still, one exhibit shows how the emperor inspired ardent devotion and equally fervently contempt – and sometimes both. Ludwig van Beethoven dedicated his third symphony the “Eroica” to the great Frenchman – and erased this dedication in a rage when Napoleon had himself crowned emperor, a move that in the eyes of the composer, betrayed the ideals of the revolution. The title page of the original score is on display in Bonn. There is a gaping hole in the paper where Beethoven has scrubbed out the dedication – preserved as a lasting reminder of frustrated adoration.

Napoleon and Europe – Dream and Trauma
Art and Exhibition Hall of the Federal Republic of Germany, Bonn.
Until April 25, Tue., Wed. 10 a.m. to 9 p.m., Thu. to Sun., 10 a.m. to 7 p.m.,
admission €8/€5, catalogue €32;
www.bundeskunsthalle.de