Concluding that his father was inadequate, Kokoschka drew closer to his mother; and seeing himself as the head of the household, he continued to support his family when he gained financial independence.

Despite his intent of continuing a formal education in chemistry, Kokoschka was not interested in such subjects, as he only excelled in art, and spent most of his time reading classic literature during his lessons.

Following his own artistic training, Kokoschka dedicated years of his life thereafter teaching art and writing articles and speeches documenting his views and practices as an educator.

Kokoschka neglected the conventional structured methodologies and theories assumed by art educators, and instead taught through storytelling infused with mythological themes and dramatic emotion.

Kokoschka received a commission from the Director of the Wiener Werkstätte, Fritz Wärndorfer, for color images that would supplement a children’s book and be displayed at the exhibition.

Kokoschka, however, took the liberty of producing images that would serve as illustrations to the poem he wrote a year earlier, Die träumenden Knaben (The Dreaming Youths), which took on the form of an autobiographical adolescent fantasy that was inappropriate for a young audience.

[8] In his autobiography, Kokoschka explained the origins of the poem, which follow his personal experience as a young student who was in love with his Swedish classmate, Lilith.

Kokoschka also adopted the bold lines and expressive colors of traditional European folk art and juxtaposed them with the stylized ornamentation and two-dimensional bodies of Jugendstil.

Upon showing these two works, Kokoschka was subject to a backlash from conservative officials and only a small proportion of the five hundred copies of Die träumenden Knaben were actually bound and sold.

Unlike many of his contemporaries who were also receiving portrait commissions, such as Edvard Munch, Kokoschka maintained complete artistic freedom because they were generally not ordered directly by the sitter.

However, Kokoschka also adopted elements of the modern style which involved incorporating hands within the composition to further capture the emotion expressed through an individual's gestures.

Kokoschka’s use of shrill, harsh colors that make the subjects appear as rotting corpses is not meant to be understood as a portrayal of their individual physical conditions, but rather an overarching indication of a decomposing age.

[9] The bold lines and patches of bright color juxtaposed against an otherwise solid, dull background were visual interpretations of the anxieties felt by Kokoschka and those in circle.

Kokoschka’s portraits, however, differed from those of his contemporaries due to his belief in the symbolic importance of the act of painting itself, which is emphasized by visible brushstrokes and areas of exposed canvas.

Kokoschka integrated painterly techniques with those used in drawing, as seen in his use of vibrant and contrasting colors, rapid brushstrokes, anxious scratch marks, and uneven handling.

Patrick Werkner, an art historian, describes Kokoschka’s portraits by suggesting that it is as if the skin becomes separated from the body, allowing the viewer to see through the physiognomy like a veil only to make visible the means of depiction.

[9] Kokoschka’s portraits as a whole comment on the overwhelming feelings of uncertainty felt by those who were aware of the shifting cultural milieu leading up the end of the old order of the Austrian Empire in 1918.

Erica Tietze-Conrat explained that while Kokoschka was creating their portrait, he encouraged them to move freely and continue their work at the two desks that were situated adjacent to one another by a window.

The couple was forced to flee Austria in 1938 as a result of their Jewish heritage, but were able to take with them this portrait that they refused to exhibit until it was purchased by the Museum of Modern Art in 1939.

The twentieth Issue of the periodical featured both Kokoschka's first cover illustration, which supplemented Mörder, Hoffnung der Frauen, as well as the artist's first literary contribution.

In an open letter addressed to the inhabitants of Dresden from 1920, Kokoschka argued that the civil war battles between the revolutionary parties should be moved outside of the city’s borders in order to protect the art which could not escape the crossfire.

Located in Vienna’s 16th District known as Liebharstal, the house, now functioning as the artist’s studio, provided a view of Schloss Wilhelminenberg which had been converted into a Kinderheim, or orphanage, by the City Council.

In honor of the humanitarian efforts of the City Counsel, Kokoschka decided to illustrate children playing outside of the palace in the foreground of the composition which otherwise consisted of a cityscape.

While residing in this seaside village, Kokoschka made paintings depicting landscapes of the harbor, along with The Crab, which began a series of works embedded with political allegories resisting the Nazi regime.

During several summer months, he and his young Czech wife, Oldřiška “Olda” Palkovská Kokoschka (1915–2009), lived in Ullapool, a village in Wester Ross, Scotland.

[citation needed] While in Ullapool, Kokoschka painted a portrait of his friend, the wealthy industrialist Ferdinand Bloch-Bauer, Uncle of Maria Altmann.

Kokoschka spent these years as an educator at the Internationale Sommer Akademie für Bildenden Künste, (Ricarda Jacobi being one of his pupils) while also working on stage designs and publishing a collection of his writings.

Both wrote eloquently of the need to develop the art of "seeing" (Kokoschka emphasized depth perception while Beckmann was concerned with mystical insight into the invisible realm), and both were masters of innovative oil-painting techniques anchored in earlier traditions.

[28] His short play Murderer, the Hope of Women (1909, set ten years later by Paul Hindemith as Mörder, Hoffnung der Frauen) is often called the first Expressionist drama.