In this self-portrait of 1963, a detached Tübke sits with his arms crossed over his chest in front of a pale-blue background. The artist densely worked his facial features with short, controlled hatching using a graphite pencil. He employed a sparser approach when sketching his shirt, which he modeled with mostly longer, lighter strokes. The coloristic emphasis on his small cap is balanced only by the pink accents on the lower portion of his sleeves. The portrait-bust format, the artist’s pose, and the mannered right hand with knotted knuckles are all self-conscious evocations of Renaissance prototypes. Tübke repeatedly explored self-portraiture throughout his career, creating some 140 such works.

The Dresden-born Penck was often in conflict with the GDR authorities because of his association with nonconformist and dissident artists, and his rejection of Socialist Realism—the state-sanctioned art form. Prevented from studying at the art academies in Dresden and East Berlin, Penck developed a highly idiosyncratic visual language composed of simplified forms and figures. Drawing played an important part in his artistic process from the beginning. The archaic, austere, sculptural image captured in this early sheet reflects the artist’s desire to treat the profile of a girl as a universal form. Although no official funds could be used to acquire Penck’s art, the Kupferstich-Kabinett managed to amass one of the largest public collections of his works on paper.

Cybernetic Reflection is among Claus’s early “speech sheets.” Combining writing and drawing, these works allowed the artist to explore the relationship between language and visual expression. To make the drawing, Claus used his right hand to cover one side of a semitransparent piece of tracing paper with tiny lines of partially legible text. On the other side, working with his left hand, he created a complex network of dots and lines. While the artist associated his right hand with rationality, he believed that the use of the clumsier left hand allowed him to access the unconscious or not-yet-conscious parts of his mind. The resultant image resembles a spider, with delicate scribbles radiating outward like threads of a spiderweb.

Altenbourg spent his life in creative seclusion, living far away from the artistic centers of East Germany and withdrawn from the political affairs of the GDR. Composed of precisely placed and layered minute marks, fine textures, lush colors, and tightly woven shapes, this monumental work exemplifies the artist’s meditative, prolonged drawing process. As he often did, Altenbourg purposefully left the subject matter ambiguous. Hui and phui, mentioned in the title, might refer to the German saying “beauty above, ugliness below” (oben hui, unten pfui), thus implying a tension between admiration and disgust.