Andy Reichsman lives in Marlboro, and for the past 70 years his family has been trying to get back a collection of artwork that was stolen from Reichsman’s grandfather during the Holocaust.
Late last year, the government of Croatia, in what was a first for that country, returned two paintings and eight lithographs — including works by Picasso and Cezanne — to Reichsman.
Reichsman can only wonder what his grandfather was thinking when he purchased a small collection of artwork in Zagreb, in what was then Yugoslavia, in 1940 as World War II was underway.
“I don’t know exactly how or why he bought this art, but I think this was a new thing for him,” he said during a recent interview.
As far as Reichsman knows, his grandfather, Dane Reichsmann, was not a big collector of art.
But when a well-known art dealer held a show in Zagreb, his grandfather was moved enough to purchase two paintings; one by André Derain and a second by Maurice de Vlaminck, and eight lithographs by the likes of Pablo Picasso and Paul Cezanne.
“The fact that he was interested in this art, and that he went to the extent of purchasing it, you know, means he’s a kindred spirit, in a sense, to myself,” Reichsman said. “I’m an art lover, and apparently he was an art lover.”
“The fact that he was interested in this art, and that he went to the extent of purchasing it, you know, means he’s a kindred spirit, in a sense, to myself. I’m an art lover, and apparently he was an art lover.”Andy Reichsman
Dane Reichsmann was a successful businessman who owned a large department store in Zagreb that afforded his family a comfortable life.
And he was a war hero who fought for the German army in World War I.
But he was also Jewish.
And when the Nazi’s occupied the region in 1941, Dane Reichsmann and his wife were rounded up, sent to Auschwitz and murdered.
All of their belongings, including the art, disappeared.
Andy’s father escaped to the United States, and his father’s sister, Andy’s aunt, settled in London to study classical piano.
“You know, he didn’t express it much, but every once in a while he would read a book about the Holocaust, and he would end up in his bedroom, and he would maybe be crying. And so that, obviously, you know, gathered our attention, the kids would wonder, 'What the hell,'” he said. “And it became known that his parents and his two half-brothers had been murdered by the Nazis. So I was aware of that, but I knew nothing about … I had no idea that there was any art.”
Andy grew up in New York City and did not have a relationship with his aunt Danica who built her life in London.
Andy attended Bennington College, and then in 1977 he went to graduate school to study sculpture in London, and he forged a deep connection with Danica over their shared love of art.
“She had gone to study music, and she was a pianist, and she had a certain sense of her own artistic flair,” Andy said. “And so she was really pleased that genetically, here I was in art school. So we had a great time, and I enjoyed being with her, and she was charming, and lovely, and, you know, quirky, she was a little neurotic, so I started seeing her quite a bit when I was in London.”
Andy had a motorcycle in London, and he says he would occasionally ride with his aunt to classical music concerts in the city.
And it was during this time that Andy first learned about his grandfather’s art that was being held by the government of Yugoslavia, and about his aunt’s obsession with getting the family’s artwork back.
“She tried for 50 years, I would say, and, she just really wanted to get that artwork back. She thought it was quite important, so she kept trying,” Andy said.
Danica would travel to Yugoslavia just about every summer to meet with government and museum officials to try to get her father’s artwork.
Danica tried for 50 years to get her parents' artwork back, and when she died, she bequeathed the artwork to Andy Reichsman, who now lives in Marlboro, Vt.
Andy has a box of letters his aunt received from Yugoslavia, years before the idea of restitution was discussed on the world stage, and she even tried to bribe a museum official, according to Andy.
None of it worked.
Danica, who never had any children, died in 2001, and in her will, she bequeathed the art to Andy, even though she had no idea if the Croatian government would ever give it up.
“From whenever I’d heard about the art I knew that this was …nothing was ever going to come of this,” Andy said. “This was going to be a story I could tell, 'Hey, I inherited a million dollars worth of art. I’ll never see it, there’s no way I’ll ever get it.'”
So Andy didn’t think about it much.
He started a career in documentary filmmaking working in New York City, and then moved to southern Vermont.
He and his wife had two kids, built a house in Marlboro, and every once in a while he’d get an email, and occasionally a bill, from the law firm in Croatia that he retained that was working on the case.
The government of Croatia called the family’s artwork national treasures, and Reichsman said for a long time it seemed like the government had no intention of turning them over.
But then, about a year and a half ago, the Croatian government published a joint report with the World Jewish Restitution Organization that listed a lot of the looted artwork and personal objects that were held in museums around Croatia.
Included in that report were two paintings from the National Museum of Modern Art, which were purchased by Reichsman’s grandfather more than 80 years ago: A still life of kitchen pottery by André Derain, and a landscape by Maurice de Vlaminck.
“These were things that my grandfather probably handled. And, you know, for somebody who has essentially no link to their ancestors it was very satisfying to be in the presence of, and take possession of, these things that were their belongings."Andy Reichsman
And then late last year, Reischman got a call telling him he could pick up the artwork in Zagreb.
“So we go to this little gallery and the paintings are all wrapped up, and, you know, I was deeply moved,” he says. “You know these were things that my grandfather probably handled. And, you know, for somebody who has essentially no link to their ancestors it was very satisfying to be in the presence of, and take possession of, these things that were their belongings. You know, I wish I had met my grandparents. I wish I had been able to get to know them and be a little kid at their feet, or whatever, if they had managed to get out, but, uh, not to be.”
According to the New York Times, these were the first reported Holocaust-era artworks that were returned by the government of Croatia.
And Andy says even as he was walking out of the gallery, with an early 20th century painting under his arms, he barely believed it was really happening.
But a funky house in southern Vermont is hardly a safe place for artwork like that.
And at 70 years old, Andy says as an independent documentary filmmaker he doesn't have a lot of retirement savings.
So the two paintings, which are valued at about $500,000, will be sold at Phillips Auctioneers in New York City.
“I just feel a little overwhelmed with dealing with that kind of thing,” Andy said. “You know, where in this house would you put it that would be safe? You know both in terms of the change in temperature from heating with a woodstove, you know, it just seems impossible. And the whole insurance thing is another thing. I mean I could give them on permanent loan to the museum, or to the Met, or to MoMA, but I'm broke, so.”
Andy says he'll use some of money to replace an old toaster in the kitchen he and his wife have been battling with.
And they'll pay off the electric car they bought last year.
And he says he wants to take his family on a trip back to Croatia, to the little town outside of Zagreb where his grandparents built a life before everything was taken away from them.
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