If you are not familiar with the festivals of the Bauhaus, then you don't really know the Bauhaus product. These festivals arise suddenly, on the most varied pretexts. For example, the great winds. Whereupon a gigantic placard is carried all over the community: FESTIVAL OF AERIAL GAMES. Two hundred kites of all sizes, shapes and colours float in the air at the end of thin strings. There is nothing more beautiful than that. Games played by 200 children of all ages . . . Summer brings many other delights, such as the water games known as bathing. The burghers are especially incensed, for allegedly the Bauhaus folk are fond of forgetting their swimsuits. But this is not true. I passed three summers there without a single occasion when the two sexes bathed together like that. Of course there were occasional exceptions, here and there. Extremely rare. But everyone loved the cold water and the stony beach. And boxing. I challenged Gropius, 'the Grand Seigneur' himself, to three rounds . . . The winters were even more perilous. This is the season when dancing becomes a health requirement . . . the time when girls bloom . . . Of course most of the credit goes to Andor Weininger, who organized the Bauhaus band. Jazz band, accordion, xylophone, saxophone, bombast, revolver. When he sits at the piano he reigns over all the masters; he leads, like Admiral Scheer, he uplifts, gesticulates, conducts, commands. His smile is world­famous . . . Here the individual dances are not performed in their usual form but as the throbbing pulse of the beat dictates. There are special Bauhaus dances, as well . . . The dancing is suddenly interrupted by a resounding crash. All eyes are on the stage. The Bühnenwerkstatt is at work. This merits a whole article in itself. The most striking farces, bloody tragedies, persiflages, exoticisms. There is something novel here: those spontaneously arising improvisations . . . Everyone plays a part. One after another they take the stage; much of the time the action is simultaneously in the middle of the hall, up in the galleries and on the podium . . . The greatest expenditures of energy, however, go into the costume parties. The essential difference between the fancy­dress balls of the artists of Paris, Berlin, Moscow and the Bauhaus is that here the costumes are truly original. Everyone prepares his or her own . . . You see monstrously tall shapes stumbling about, colourful mechanical figures that yield not the slightest clue as to where the head is. Sweet girls inside a red cube. Here comes a winch and they are pulled up into the air; lights flash and scents are sprayed. And now for a few intimate details about the bigwigs. Kandinsky prefers to appear decked out as an antenna, Itten as an amorphous monster, Feininger as two right triangles, Moholy-­Nagy as a segment pierced by a cross, Gropius as Le Corbusier, Muche as an apostle of Mazdaznan, Klee as the song of the blue tree. 

 - Farkas Molnár, 1921