This was once a center of the Nazi Party in Munich. And here, where the Nazis planned the systematic seizure of Jewish assets, today a belated restitution for those crimes is being worked on.
The batch of documents that have arrived at the Central Institute for Art History in Munich are a treasure trove for the art world. Providence researcher Michael Hoppe has received the entire archive of the Ullius-Buller Art dealership from the years 1933 to 1945 to work through. It could be a huge opportunity to locate lost artworks from Jewish collections.
This can be like looking for a needle in a haystack. We have at least 8,500 photos like this to digitize. We have a total of nearly 40,000 of burles transactions that we're working on and figuring out. So we have a lot of work ahead of us.
HOMA VICTOR CLAMP HARM YUReling Wicks-to-A-Climparm, Rudolf Mosse, Zikrit Lemne, Ato Rubenstein, James Bligehuda, Fritz Goodman, Agatiz Oemann. These are important names, but we must always remember that they're simply representative of very, very many faiths in the Nazi era. Given the large number of objects we provenance researchers work with, and the many names we encounter that we can't even properly identify, cases like these are very important as examples, they enable us to demonstrate how the mechanism of expropriation and looting functioned, and how certain objects ended up in museums. And of course, each object has a very moving story to tell of the fate of its former owners.
The town of Füllingen is located in southwestern Germany. This is where the Jewish couple Ernst and Agatiz Oemann, who were Avidar collectors, lived from the late 1920s, until they were forced to flee Nazi Germany in late 1935. Providence researcher Iris Schmeiser was examining the collection of Liebechaus Museum in Frankfurt. She was checking its legality when she found that the museum had a Madonna figure that had belonged to the Zalmans.
I think we can imagine how the Zalmans lived in the late 1920s, what kind of a feeling it must have been to live in a house full of art. I'm trying to imagine where the Madonna might have stood.
The Alabaster Madonna and Child dating from the 14th century was sold to Liebechaus in 1936 by the Munich Art dealer Julius Bühler on behalf of the Zalmans. The owners were forced to put it up for sale when they fled the country. There is a house in the moment there. You can sense from this photo that the house was empty when it was taken, and I recognize this knob on the stairwell. Now we have the carpeting and the wallpaper. It's hidden under the current decor. I think it's a very important thing to say about the St. Yaufnam, the finance and the right thing. These are pictures that the right-ling tax office took in the couple's absence. It's important to note that it was in their absence. But they are nonetheless extremely valuable sources because they provide a few puzzle pieces that allow us to reconstruct how this space looked when Ernst and Agata, Salman lived here.
Ernst and Agata, Salman moved into the house called Erlenhöf in the summer of 1927. In the neighboring town of Enningen, Ernst Salman had a highly successful cotton-weaving mill. His wife was the one who built up the art collection, and she had another rather extravagant hobby. Well, apparently this is where Agata, Salman landed her airplane and took off from this field. If there was a little runway or not, I don't know. Perhaps there was. But anyway, this is the spot.
Felix de Marez-Oyens is the son of Agata, Salman's first husband. He lives in Paris where he's an art dealer and an expert on rare books. He now represents a group of the Salman heirs. Did you call it a Märchenschloss? A Märchenschloss, a fairy tale house. Only 11 objects from the family's considerable collection have been found so far in five German museums and three private collections abroad. Felix de Marez-Oyens is visiting Erlenhöf for the first time. Until now, he only knew it from photographs.
The desk in this picture, which was a garter, standing here at an angle, it was from that desk that she started her correspondence with Julius Böhler, or the necessity and then the planning of the several sales at Adolf Weinmüller's auction house in Munich in 1936.
On December 18, 1935, Agata-Zalman got in touch with art dealer Julius Harry Böhler. We are currently trying to sell our factory and liquidate our estate. Might you possibly be interested in selling our collection? Before she received an answer, the Salmans had to flee the country and leave behind everything they had built up here.
At the moment, it became clear that the Salmans had left. The authorities imposed the so-called Reich flight tax. That was nearly 140,000 Reichmarks that the Salmans had to scrape together and pay in a hurry. The tax, originally enacted to stem the flight of capital from Weimar Germany, became in the hands of the Nazis a way of seizing Jewish property. These supposed debts to the state were posted in the official government bulletin, the Deutsche Reichs-Sansiger. The Salmans were also listed here.
In 1936, more and more Jews began to flee from Germany. Many of those who owned artworks turned to their longtime art dealer Julius Böhler. In many cases, they were being forced to hurriedly sell-off works they had originally bought through him. In the spring of 1936, Böhler answered Agata-Zalman's letter. Regarding your collection in Erlenhof, I have looked up the items in the catalogues and I would be happy to sell them for you. This is the building where the Böhler art dealership was located back then. The dealership, which had once been named antiquary to the Royal Prussian Court, had a reputation for trustworthiness among its clients. This shows how well-established he already was in Munich around 1900, and also that he had the financial clout to put up a building like this, with more than 20 exhibition rooms. It could basically be called a miniature Bavarian National Museum, and it shows how this trade was flourishing in those years.
In the early 20th century, sales to wealthy Jewish clients all over Germany were booming for the dealership. Reputable collectors like James Zemann, Alfred Prinsheim, and James von Blige wrote a purchase art at Böhler's. When the Nazis seized power, this clientele broke away practically overnight. I not only imagine Julius Böhler walking through here, but also his clients, including collectors who might have been in dire straits and bringing objects that they were being forced to sell in their predicament. From Florence, where she was living in exile, Agatha Zalman again turned to Böhler. She still believed they might be able to meet. I'm considering selling the German artworks first. I believe that if we could discuss this in person, we could come to a satisfactory arrangement. An appraisal of our works at Ellenhof should probably take place after our conversation. This correspondence shows her difficult situation, the pressure she was under, and her desperation. After they'd left all their property behind, to have to carry on this correspondence from abroad with the dealer, but also with the tax office as to how they could keep them from confiscating all of their property.
The objects I just scanned are all objects from the Zalman collection that are registered in the online lost art database as still missing. These are not only works of fine art, but also handicrafts, furniture, everyday objects. You can almost recreate in your imagination what the family home looked like. It's interior decor. That's what makes this so moving. We have a total of around 40,000 transactions that we've been able to reconstruct for the period that the Böhler archive covers. Of course, only part of that dates from the period 1933 to 1945. Since many dealers worked together, including people like Vainmüla and Bühler, I'm sure that this archive, this trove of documents, will allow us to shed light on more questions. This might well include questions about the Zalman collection.
Today, the Eulias-Böhler Art Dealership is run from the family home in Starnberg near Munich by the fifth generation of the dynasty. Florian Állklöb Mührler turned over his grandfather's correspondence to the Bavarian Economic Archive back in 1995. This is our true home and always will be. Recently, he handed over the company's entire archive to the Central Institute for Art History. I don't have any more records here. It's all in public hands. It's important to me to make it all transparent. I'm no friend of sweeping things under the rug. We've tried to do that for far too long.
But what did Julius Harry-Biller tell his family about his business dealings? He liked to sit up there and look out at the lake. And when he was there, we usually hid or tried to stay out of the way. We weren't allowed to bother grandfather. That's the way it was. My mother would say, Grandpapa is there. Don't make so much noise. That seems normal if you've grown up with it. Yeah, we should have been different. But that's how it was.
That was a fairly unusual act to turn over all the company records for research purposes. Did Michael Hop and her team have a hard time persuading him? We talked with him for a long time, and he said we could come and visit. He still had the archive with the index cards and the portfolios of photographs.
That was an amazing moment when we went down into the cellar and found these steel cabinets with the photo portfolios about the objects that were sold. Around 9,000 photo portfolios were preserved. In addition, there are the index cards about the sold objects, which can tell us from which collection or from which cellar an object came, and also who ultimately bought it. The archive from the Bühler Art dealership is providing provenance researchers with essential data. For the years 1933 to 1945, they document several thousand transactions.
In the summer of 1936, the Julius Bühler Art dealership saw its turnover climb to six times that of the previous years to nearly 1.3 million Reichmarks. Bühler profited from the situation. Among his biggest purchasers were the Pinocatake Museums in Munich. The name Julius Bühler appears again and again on the lists of provenance in their depositories.
For instance, for numerous objects from the collection of the Berlin banker James von Blicerader, provenance researcher Andrea Bambi has devoted a detailed study to the collection. James von Blicerader was the son of Gerson von Blicerader, who was an important banker in Berlin. The family, or he himself, owned an art collection that is documented in an auction catalogue from the Lebka Auction House in Berlin, where the collection was sold in 1938. The sale included many paintings, but also very valuable decorative objects, such as pieces of furniture, etc.
After James von Blicerader died of natural causes in Berlin in 1937, his entire collection was auctioned off by the Lebka Auction House, and the integrity of the collection that the family had accumulated over two centuries was lost forever. The rest of the Blicerader family was persecuted by the Nazis and forced to sell off the estate under duress. Among the objects sold at the auction was the raising of Lazarus, painted around 1530 by a southern German master.
One of the most active bidders in the room was Julius Böhler, and he purchased the painting. We have the invoices from the Lebka Auction House to the Julius Böhler Art dealership here in Munich. There it was sold to Böhler for 3,600 Reichmarks, and three-quarters of a year later, Herman Göring bought it for the enormous sum of 8,000 Reichmarks, so it more than doubled in the space of nine months. Of course, someone like Böhler knew that when he sold it to Göring, he didn't need to ask a cheap price.
Herman Göring, a leading Nazi who had been made Supreme Commander of the Luftwaffe in 1935, was one of the biggest beneficiaries of looted art. He accumulated a huge collection of artworks, many of them from Jewish owners. He was particularly keen to acquire medieval and renaissance artworks, especially female nudes. For Providence researchers, any hint that a work belonged to the Zomlung Göring, or Göring collection, is a suggestion that it may be looted art.
For Julius Böhler, as for a lot of them, such as the Weinmüller Auction House, the fact that the Jewish art dealerships, which had had a strong presence and which were the big players, no longer existed, meant the market was completely turned around. That was something the Nazis exploited. There was a tense financial situation at the time, which became evident in the art business. After 1933, the so-called Aryan dealers like Adolf Weinmüller exploited it to establish their own firms and push the Jewish firms out of the markets.
The Weinmüller Auction House was Böhler's first choice for auctioning off the Zomlung collection. They didn't tell the Zomlungs that since early 1936, he himself had been a 50% silent partner of the auction house and took a cut of its profits. That Weinmüller dealt in quote, unethical things or traded in looted art. What is called looted art today. Back then, they didn't have that term, I think. And why my grandfather was involved in it and when? I don't know anything about that.
In the summer of 1936, items from the Zomlung collection were sold at an auction billed as an old German art collection. The proceeds of 40,000 Reichmarks were not enough for the Zomlungs to pay their Reich flight tax. In addition to that, Julius Böhler picked out a number of especially valuable pieces from the collection and bought them himself at the auction. That was in order to sell them later for many times the price that he paid at the auction.
Some of the buyers were public museums. Böhler was very familiar with his Zomlungs collection since his dealership had helped them assemble it. Now he was dismantling it and profiting all the more. At the big auction in the summer of 1936, he bought the Madonna and Child and sold it just a year later at a profit to the Leibic House Museum in Frankfurt. He sold it for six times the amount. The money that flowed in from the sale of the art collection went directly to the tax office or to the art dealer who had been commissioned with the sale. The Salmans themselves didn't see any of it.
It's hard to separate. Did he maybe want to help Agata Salman by saying, you're under time pressure and I know a way we can get this done quickly. At the same time, he was a dealer and making a profit. That's the morally questionable element. Factually, you can imagine that if a dealer can get hold of more goods or has a chance at getting high quality goods cheaply, he would be acting uneconomically if he didn't take advantage of the situation.
On the other hand, dealers like Julius Böhler and Adolf Vignrula and many more were quite aware of the predicament the Jewish collectors were in at the time. There were instances in which he brought the artworks of persecuted owners to them abroad and then there were cases in which he was clearly a profiteer. Once we're finished with the Böhler project, I think we'll be able to put a percentage to his actions. To what extent was he a profiteer? How much did he help people and how much did he do people harm?
It's still unclear how closely Julius Böhler was connected with the Nazi regime. What is clear is that none of the participating partners in his dealership were Nazi party members. But as Reich propaganda minister Josef Gugel's made clear, the party was intent on ensuring that all forms of culture would be subordinated to the regime. Thanks to the Nazi's cultural policies as numerous works of dubious provenance have ended up in the holdings of German museums. This dark legacy in public collections is something that to this day imposes a burden of responsibility.
One of the bizarre aspects of the Nazis, alongside the genocide, alongside the Holocaust, is that the leaders try to deck themselves out with art. That's long been a tradition among those who hold power. But in this case, the humanity that is essentially the basis of art is coupled with the inhumanity of their political and military actions. And we will never entirely resolve this paradox.
In 1936, Adolf Hitler visited the Italian fascist leader Benito Mussolini in Florence. By then, Ernst and Agata Zalmann had once again been forced to flee, this time to France. They left behind their former vacation home in Florence and other valuable art objects. Not long after their arrival, France fell under German occupation. The Zalmann's were interned in the Gores concentration camp. At the same time, Hermann Göring had discovered France as a new source of art to loot. He asked Julius Büller to act on behalf of the Third Reich in France. Büller refused, and Göring reportedly left the art dealer's mansion in a rage and never bought works from him again.
The marker was driven by the frenzy on the part of the Nazi elite. They developed this image of the great art collector, who was also a representative of Nazi ideology. Having an especially valuable art collection was a mark of status. So these people were prowling the art market, although they weren't necessarily all that knowledgeable. Or they didn't have the best advisors. So that meant that the art dealers who were there, like Vainmüller, for example, were all able to sell mediocre to inferior goods to this Nazi elite at absurdly high prices.
One blatant example was the painting Girl Feeding the Chickens by Hans Tomma. Basically, this painting is emblematic of that time. In accordance with his new taste in art, Ernst Büchner, the director of the Pinocothec Museums, bought numerous works by Hans Tomma, a darling of the regime. He financed the purchases by giving Büller a number of valuable works in exchange. Strangely enough, he made the decision to draw on works that had been sacrosanct. He gave away a Renoir and a Monet. Those abitally missed gaps in our collection today.
In other words, he took two significant works by artists of the calibre of Renoir and Monet and handed them over to Büller, an art dealer. In the massive records we received, we have reports of several thousand transactions by the Julius Büller art dealership in the years 1933 to 1945 alone. So it will be a huge amount of effort to digitize all this, and it will be a huge effort if we're going to analyze and assess all of the transactions. But we have to do it because any one of these transactions could provide a decisive clue to an expropriated, looted, or in some way, illegitimately traded piece of art.
When World War II ended in 1945, Germany was in ruins. Gradually the crimes of the Nazis came to light. In that summer, Hermann Göring's remaining art treasures were discovered hidden in a train near Bärstiskaten. But that was only the tip of the iceberg when it came to the plunder of artworks. As soon as the cleanup of the ruins began, it was clear that how to deal with looted cultural assets was going to be an issue, and so was restitution of real estate or material goods to the persecuted families. And at the time, ways were found of addressing it.
In August 1945, Allied forces set up the Munich Central Collecting Point. It was a depot for looted artworks and cultural artifacts with a view to restoring them to their owners or possible heirs. It was located in a former Nazi Party administration building, which today houses the Central Institute for Art History.
Gradibly, the topic of looted art under national socialism was somewhat forgotten. It may have been on people's minds immediately after the war, during the reparation process. But then over the decades, it fell into oblivion in the public consciousness. Of course, there were people in the museums who knew that there was a problem. But they weren't really interested in following up on the topic. If Ernst Buchna, my predecessor, three generations back, as it were, played an active role in the old and new Pianaco-take museums at a period when they had been bombed and the ruins had to be rebuilt, then that was definitely a mistake. Even his intense involvement with the Nazi system. But at the same time, there were clearly people here in Bavaria who wanted him as someone who was knowledgeable about the museum business. They wanted him to help rebuild the collection, rebuild the buildings, revive the institutions and organizations.
We also have to keep in mind that at the time, West Germany wanted to enjoy its post-war economic miracle and wanted to believe that the Nazi era and Nazi guilt had been overcome.
我们还必须记住,当时西德希望享受战后的经济奇迹,并且希望相信纳粹时代和纳粹的罪行已经被克服。
In 1998, more than four decades after the end of the war, the Washington Conference on Holocaust-era assets marked a decisive moment for the families affected by expropriation. We must dig to find the truth. This means that researchers must have access to old archives. And by that, I don't mean partial, sporadic or eventual access. I mean access in full everywhere now. The American diplomat Stuart Eisenstadt had initiated the gathering. 44 countries signed the Washington Declaration, committing themselves to a set of 11 principles regarding artworks confiscated by the Nazis. To create a sense of urgency, it's a moral obligation. Things are not moral. Washington principles were not legally binding treated. They created a moral obligation to find just and fair solutions.
Until the Washington Conference, the topic of Nazi-luded art was not on the agenda. Apart from the descendants or the heirs or in some cases survivors who had been forced to flee, no one was really interested in it. The Washington Conference fundamentally changed that. Representatives of non-governmental organizations and four dozen governments came together to talk about this topic. And that put it back on the agenda. It is perhaps regrettable that it wasn't Germany, where these deeds were carried out that provided the first impetus in 1998. But overall, because it came from the Jewish community, it ended up generating huge momentum.
The Holocaust was not only the greatest genocide in history, 6 million Jews and millions of others. It was the greatest theft in history. And the Third Reich didn't steal all these artworks and cultural objects and books and instruments just to get more money for the Reich. That was a part of it, but that wasn't it. It was that this was a part and parcel of the genocide. It was cultural genocide. It was to eliminate everything connected to Jewish culture, Jewish ownership, root and branch. And many of the artworks that we're talking about, when the press gets it okay, they read about the masterpieces. But most of the art that was looted had much more sentimental and family value than it did value in the open market. And so the Washington principles were designed to find what we called fair and just solution.
We gather here this week not to achieve miracles, but rather to do everything within our power to replace dark with light, injustice with fairness, contention with consensus and falsehood with truth. The jointly agreed search for truth and justice continues to this day.
A global digital network has provided new opportunities for Providence researchers in recent years. Germany puts more than 10 million euros a year into digitization and Providence projects related to looted art. After the catalogs of the Weinmüller auction house had been digitized, researchers in the summer of 2014 became aware of an object that for years had been part of the collection at Berlin's Boden Museum. Every artifact has a biography of course, so this is not just the sculpture collection, it's also an archive.
And here we've come to the three angels from the collection called S&R. This piece has been in the collection since 1999. Two or three years ago a colleague drew my attention to the fact that it appears in the catalog of the Weinmüller auction house, labeled S&R collection. That was code for Zalman in Reitlingen. The digital Weinmüller catalog had made it possible to link the item in the museum to the Zalman collection. Back then nothing was known about its Providence and people weren't intensely concerned with Providence. Once we started to research it, it soon became clear that there was this connection with Zalman, and in fact the catalog describes a group of angels with the infant Jesus. When we compared the images in the catalog with the object itself, we saw that the object was missing the wing on the left, seen from our perspective. This embolic in a way, what we have here is an angel that cannot fly.
Once the Providence was confirmed, the museum had to act. This is an important piece of art history, and we were hoping to keep it for our sculpture collection. So I looked at prices on the art market for comparable works, and we made the heirs a fair offer. They accepted, and so we were able to purchase the piece.
How can it be that the institution that has the work in its possession is the one to decide they will keep it? Because someone who has a claim, that institution can never be independent and impartial. It's very problematic. Obviously, it's hard for the curators and directors of a museum to return artworks that have played a central role in their collection, when they discover that they have been wrongly acquired. But there's no question, they must be returned.
In many cases, we have found ways of telling the heirs how important it is for us to keep the work in the collection, and asking if we can either keep the artifact or artifacts or collection on permanent loan, at least for the time being. Or can we buy it back? But these options are only possible if the legitimate owner agrees to it. Since the restitution and subsequent purchase from the heirs, a plaque on the work makes a brief reference to its former owners, Ernst and Agata Zalman. We were impressed, of course, by the fact that they had taken this initiative, and that was a somewhat moving moment, because it was an acknowledgement of what had happened, and a genuine attempt to not only to restitute it, but to put something right that was clearly part of a terrible wrong, and of course, the Zalman collection is only a small element in what is a sea of expropriations of very important collections.
Unlike the angel sculpture, the Madonna and child in Frankfurt's Liebechaus Museum was sold at auction by Sotheby's in London, after its restitution to the Zalman heirs in 2015. It went for £22,000, slightly below its appraised value. We've maybe recovered just about ten items, out of hundreds, and a couple were quite interesting, or maybe perhaps even reasonably important. Most of them weren't terribly important. Relatively difficult to us, it's all of interest.
With the beginnings of restitution, Germany's restitution, 16,000 art and books, Austria 30,000, dozens in the United States, hundreds and hundreds in the Netherlands, but we still have that rest of the glass to fill before we implement and honor the Washington principles, and more important, honor the memories of those who were killed, and those from whom these works were brutally stolen as part and parcel of the Holocaust.
Ten Restituted Artifacts, out of more than 200 in the Zalman collection, is terribly few, or at least it sounds like terribly few. And you also have to keep in mind that these were pretty prominent collectors with large collections and with a real culture of art collecting. At the same time though, there were many families that owned only one or two works of emotional importance, antiquities, a portrait of their grandmother, maybe a vase that had been passed on for generations, and those were also confiscated by the Nazis.
When you reflect on that, it becomes apparent what a massive number of objects were talking about, but it's also clear that each individual object is representative of the larger issue, and that it's important to fight for the true provenance of each and every object.
In 1948, Agata Zalman took up that fight. After her husband died, she began her legal battle for restitution. Her claims were successful, at first. In March 1950, a court ordered the return of the cotton weaving mill, the company grounds and the Airlanhove House to Agata Zalman. But there was nothing left to recall the life she had once led here. It would have been pretty hard-rending to come here and be reminded of it all. Surely. Agata Zalman hoped to turn over the facilities in ending into the United Nations, to house child refugees from around the world.
And her return here to the area, and her claims at the time got quite a bit of publicity, not only because of the claim itself, but also she was quite a striking character, of course, and had been a sort of minor celebrity in the area before the war. The then owner of the mill appealed against her restitution claim and the court decision.
During the appeal, Agata Zalman committed suicide in Baden Baden on June 18th, 1951. It was her fourth attempt. Now, Lather, what a beautiful horse, what a beautiful color. After Agata Zalman's death, her daughter Nina took up the restitution claims. Felix D'Amara's Oions as half-sister continued to do detailed research on the fate of the family's art collection.
In the 1960s, she asked to see the catalogues of the Vine Miller Auction House, but was told that they had been destroyed during the war. Now we know they were rediscovered. When my sister came here again in 1962, 63 was to try to track down the artworks. We knew they were actually past them. she didn't succeed.