POST 162: FEDOR LÖWENSTEIN’S CORRESPONDENCE WITH MARCELLE RIVIER, HIS ONETIME GIRLFRIEND

Note: A stash of 60 letters written between January 1940 and June 1946 by my father’s first cousin Fedor Löwenstein to Marcelle Rivier, an accomplished artist and erstwhile girlfriend, was donated to Paris’ Institut national d’histoire de l’art (INHA). These letters form the basis of a two-part article written by Jérôme Delatour from INHA about the artist’s life during this period and the depressive climate of the Nazi Occupation. I synopsize some of M. Delatour’s discussions which augment what I’ve previously written about Fedor.

 

Related Posts:

POST 160: UPDATE ON COMPENSATION CLAIM AGAINST THE FRENCH MINISTRY OF CULTURE INVOLVING NAZI-CONFISCATED FAMILY ART

POST 161: FATE OR COINCIDENCE? THE FLEA MARKET FIND OF FEDOR LÖWENSTEIN PHOTOGRAPHS

 

With so much of today’s interpersonal communications taking place via email, texts, social media, etc., I often consider that future genealogists and historians may not have written correspondence available to them to round out their understanding of people they study, whether they be ancestors or not. Absent contemporary letters, unless diaries are found, it may be difficult for researchers to develop a complete picture of their subjects nor the ordeals they confronted. Similarly, with so many of today’s pictures being stored in the cloud, it is fair to wonder how many of these images will be printed and survive. With this in mind, any time I gain access to a cache of letters and pictures left behind by one of my relatives, particularly when they were renowned, it is cause for celebration.

The contents of this post are drawn primarily from a two-part article written by Jérôme Delatour, Service du Patrimoine, Heritage Service, Institut national d’histoire de l’art (INHA), Library of the National Institute of Art History in Paris. Entitled “Paint, paint, PAINT!,” the articles detail the content of some letters the accomplished family painter Fedor Löwenstein (Figure 1), my father’s first cousin, sent to Marcelle Rivier, his erstwhile girlfriend between 1939 and October-November 1943. The letters run from January 30, 1940, to June 21, 1946. Marcelle Rivier was a very talented painter in her own right. (Figure 2)

 

Figure 1. Fedor Löwenstein in Mirmande in the Drôme in the 1930s

 

Figure 2. A Marcelle Rivier painting of Fedor Löwenstein

 

Readers are reminded that the previous two posts, Posts 160 and 161, largely dealt with Fedor Löwenstein.

The National Institute for Art History (INHA) was created in 2001 for the purpose of consolidating and promoting research in art history and heritage studies. Its main mission is the advancement of scholarly research and international cooperation in the field. It sets up research and educational programs as well as activities for the dissemination of knowledge that serve both art historians and the general public.
With its library, the INHA also provides a unique collection of resources and documentation in this field. The Institute is run jointly by the French Ministry of Higher Education and Research and the French Ministry of Culture.

The letters that were the source of the two-part article written by Jérôme Delatour were donated to the INHA in January 2016 by Danièlle and Bernard Sapet, owners of the Sapet Gallery in Valence, France. The collection consists of sixty letters signed by Fedor Löwenstein, 58 of them addressed to Marcelle Rivier and two to unknown recipients. The Sapets came into possession of these letters because of their association with Marcelle Rivier (1906-1986) when they assisted her in the final years of her life when she lived in Mirmande in the Drôme department of southeastern France. (Figure 3) Today the Sapets are the custodians of her house in Mirmande and of the artist’s archives.

 

Figure 3. Postcard of Mirmande in Drôme in southern France

 

Fedor Löwenstein’s letters to Marcelle Rivier provide details on some of the events discussed in earlier posts. Let me briefly review Fedor and Marcelle’s lives, then provide relevant background drawn from the letters.

Fedor Löwenstein was born in Munich in 1901 but was of Czechoslovakian extraction. He was part of the vast movement of Eastern European artists who made their way to Paris attracted by the cultural influence of the city. Before immigrating to France in 1923, Löwenstein had studied at the School of Decorative Arts in Berlin, then at the Academy of Fine Arts in Dresden.

The Eastern European artists contributed to the brilliance of the so-called École de Paris, the “School of Paris”; in reality, this name does not refer to any school that really existed, but rather to the movement which brought together artists who contributed to making Paris the focus of artistic creation between the two world wars. It was in this rich artistic context that Löwenstein painted and drew.

In Paris he mixed with and became a student of the painter André Lhote (1885-1962) from Bordeaux. He exhibited at the Salon des Surindépendants before joining the “Groupe des Surindépendants” in 1936. The Salon and the Artistic Association of the Sur-Independents were founded in the autumn of 1928 by a few artists who no longer wanted an admission jury and questioned the restrictions imposed by the new regulations of the Salon des Indépendants promulgated in 1924.

Löwenstein’s early works were marked by the influence of cubism, whose main representatives worked in Paris, although his subsequent productions evolved towards abstraction (Figure 4), probably under the influence of André Lhote. In 1938, he painted “La Chute” (The Fall) (Figure 5), inspired by the signing of the Munich Agreement that dismantled then-Czechoslovakia that had been created in 1918. The composition and symbolism in the work are reminiscent of the convulsed and screaming silhouettes of Picasso’s Guernica, a lofty comparison.

 

Figure 4. Fedor Löwenstein’s abstract painting entitled “La Fenêtre,” The Window

 

Figure 5. Fedor Löwenstein’s painting “La Chute” (The Fall), marking the dismantling of Czechoslovakia as a result of the Munich Agreement

 

Marcelle Rivier, Fedor’s future girlfriend, was French though she grew up in Argentina; she was characterized as a woman of “fiery temperament.” She was a saleswoman in an art gallery in Buenos Aires in 1924, a model from 1930 to 1934, a music-hall dancer in 1935, but above all a painter. (Figure 6) In the 1930s, she exhibited at the Salon d’Automne and the Salon des Tuileries. During the Occupation, she was a member of the Resistance, often exhibiting great carelessness and recklessness, according to Jérôme Delatour.

 

Figure 6. Marcelle Rivier at one of her exhibitions

 

Marcelle Rivier arrived in Paris in 1928 and studied at the Léger and Julian academies. Like Löwenstein, she was a student of André Lhote and enrolled in his course. During the summer, he took his students to Mirmande in the Drôme, where the painter had settled in 1926.

In 1936, Marcelle Rivier married the well-respected journalist Ferdinand Auberjonois (1910-2004), though the marriage was short-lived. After a short stay in New York, she returned to Paris in 1938 and it was then that she met Löwenstein. At the time, Fedor was still involved with Doris Halphen, whom I introduced to readers in Post 161. However, by November 1939, Marcelle and Fedor were romantically involved, a tumultuous affair that lasted until October-November 1943. (Figure 7)

 

Figure 7. Marcelle Rivier and Fedor Löwenstein with Fedor’s mother, my great-aunt Hedwig Fedor Löwenstein, née Bruck

 

Let me now turn to the contents of some of Fedor Löwenstein’s letters

In a letter addressed to Marcelle Rivier dated the 11th of May 1940, Fedor Löwenstein wrote to her about the 25 paintings that are the subject of my restitution and repatriation claim against the French Ministry of Culture. In the spring of 1940, when he had to flee Paris as quickly as possible in the face of the advancing German army, Fedor nonetheless took the time to package and ship the 25 works of art for an exhibition to be held at the Nierendorf Gallery in New York. He wrote: “It is only on Monday that I will know if my paintings are leaving, or if I should abandon this dream. I had a bad feeling.” Löwenstein was right. As I’ve told readers in previous posts, his crates were seized on December 5, 1940, at the port of Bordeaux, and shipped to the Jeu des Paume in Paris, where most were torn to shreds with knives, then burned during the month of July 1943

Fedor Löwenstein was apparently back in Paris before the Nazis entered the city on the 14th of June 1940 but left the capital at the last minute for Mirmande.

In April 1941, Fedor left Mirmande to go to Nice to see his mother and sister who lived there, and in the vague hope of embarking for Mexico. In a scene that must have been oft repeated across Europe wherever Jews seeking to escape the Nazis waited for travel visas, Löwenstein wrote on the 24th of April 1941, of the gloomy and depressive atmosphere:

On the Promenade des Anglais, where the spinach-green uniforms of German and Italian officers clash with the monotonous-azure blue, Jews from all over the world await the messiah in the form of an affidavit. The corpses are well dressed, they have only been able to save this and 20 marks and there are not 36 ways to escape the debacle. From time to time I meet an old acquaintance, thrown from the bottom of the sea by the tidal wave, we shake hands, and we are hardly surprised to see each other here – and besides, what is the point – and where? Get the hell out of here! But Lena, who was here for a few days (Lena is my Polish friend who lives in Marseille) wired [sic] to Hollywood so that [I] could go to Mexico. I will let myself be taken away, but I do not ‘feel’ my departure. . .”

In a letter from the 30th of April 1940, he writes:

It is curious, all the same, this atmosphere of the morning coffee, this idleness in front of a piece of white paper and more umbrellas in front of the window of the café in a minute than all year on the square of the Champs de Mars in Mirmande. It smells of dampness, damp clothes, the smell of cooking, cat pee, and the national coffee. Apart from that, I have never been able to appreciate this ‘pearl of the Mediterranean’

The above characterizations sounds very Kafkaesque.

Seemingly having been unable to obtain the affidavit necessary to immigrate to Mexico, and having nothing more to do in Nice, Löwenstein resolved to meet Marcelle Rivier in Mirmande in late 1941 and keep a low profile. Hence the interruption in letters between December 23, 1941, and June 4, 1943. However, the Nazi invasion on the 11th of November 1942, of the previously unoccupied zone of France, the southern part of the country where the Vichy regime operated, forced Fedor further into hiding. On a full moon night in February 1943, Marcelle Rivier evacuated him from Mirmande, disguised as a peasant woman. He went to Cliousclat where he was taken in by Mena Loopuyt (1902-1991), a Dutch painter, then hidden in the Abbey of Aiguebelle.

Löwenstein complained bitterly about the soul-sucking (my words) work that was required of him for protection by the monks. He was expected to contribute to the beautification of the monastery. He writes in a letter dated the 30th of September 1943:

The work that has been stuck with me this time is so disgusting that I wonder how I will do it, having accepted the fruit jellies as an advance. Imagine tile plates on which, in relief, a nymph is picking flowers. All of this is the purest new style, but so disgusting as a ‘spirit’ and as a material that one must, I think, beat the sole throughout South America to find one’s equal. And I must color them. Yesterday I told Father A[bbé] that if I asked them to sing songs from the guardroom at the basilica, it would have the same effect on them as it would on me to ‘paint’ it.

In what Jérôme Delatour characterizes as a “source of much pain and self-sacrifice,” Löwenstein was commissioned to paint the portrait of the abbot. The abbot was not at all pleased with the result, perhaps upset by the theft of 53 bottles of liquor from the abbey, exclaiming: “this is not my skin, not my eyes, I’m not so fat, what is this bosse (bump) on my head!” (30th of September 1943) Admittedly, the portrait of the abbot is not very flattering. (Figure 8)

 

Figure 8. Fedor Löwenstein’s unflattering portrait of the abbot of the Abbey of Aiguebelle

 

Löwenstein’s letters of love and war reflect a self-awareness that as a Jew and a Czechoslovakian he was “doubly undesirable in the new Europe of the early 1940s.” On May 27, 1940, he wrote, “virtually all Czechoslovakia have been in a concentration camp with one foot. But the other, my good leg, is still at large. . .this morning at the consulate we were told we must provide letters written by Frenchmen, vouching for our entire loyalty to France.”

Löwenstein’s legitimate concerns were affirmed with the enactment by the Vichy regime of “The Law of 4 October 1940 regarding foreign nationals of the Jewish race,” which authorized and organized the internment of foreign Jews and marked the beginning of the policy of collaboration of the Vichy regime with Nazi Germany’s plans for the extermination of the Jews of Europe.

All Löwenstein’s letters mention his health problems: “slight itching, general weakness, sweating, without making me feel ‘really ill’’’ (8 January 1944), which spoke to the “enemy within.” Realizing he needed to be seen by a specialist, using the alias “Lauriston,” he traveled to Paris in November 1943. A blood test confirmed he was suffering from Hodgkin lymphoma, a blood cancer that primarily affects the lymphatic system and that was incurable at the time.

His nighttime description of occupied Paris is haunting:

Going out in Paris at night is a bit tricky, especially when it’s raining like last night. Imagine when you get out of the subway, that you are immersed in black ink, indelible and absolute. Little by little, you can see around you other shadows that have come out of hell and are waiting like you for the moment when they ‘see’. . .Finally, the shadows, in groups, leave, feel the void, pierce the darkness, fall, rise, collide and arrive as if by a miracle, just like ants underground by instinct, in front of the theatre.” (26 November 1943)

Löwenstein spent the whole of 1944 in Paris, miraculously unmolested by the Nazis. His letters to Marcelle Rivier were rare at the time, as the couple had broken up in the autumn of 1943, although it’s possible that any letters from this period have disappeared. According to Jérôme Delatour, apart from a greeting card at the end of the year, there were no letters in 1945, and only two in 1946.

As Jérôme Delatour suggests, in his letters Fedor Löwenstein passionately captured a sense of the period’s depressive climate, the moral dissolution that accompanied the fall of France following the country’s rapid capitulation to Germany, and the time of the Occupation, dominated by material concerns and the price of and access to food. Even though the dangers were very real, Fedor’s letters seem almost to have distilled them to down-to-earth questions: “The valley is just a box full of dirty cotton. . .Everything froze and for the pockets of the people of Mirmande, a cauliflower at 4.50 is too expensive. We live on pasta, noodles and macaroni. . .For a vegetarian of my talent, it’s almost starvation. Already.” (Mirmande, 27 March 1940) Expectedly, rationing also affected the availability of art supplies.

Given his deteriorating condition and the Nazis changing fortunes in 1944-1945, following his departure from Paris, Fedor likely returned to Nice to spend his remaining days with his mother and sister. (Figure 9) The last words in his last letter to Marcelle Rivier were “Do you continue to paint?” (Nice, 21 June 1946) In this letter he also announced that he would be having a major exhibition in Cannes to coincide with the film festival there in September. Löwenstein was hospitalized on August 4, 1946, and died soon thereafter. (Figure 10) The first Cannes Film Festival opened on September 20th. Marcelle Rivier continued to paint until her death in 1986.

 

Figure 9. Fedor Löwenstein with his sister Jeanne Goff, née Löwenstein and his mother Hedwig in a photo taken in Nice, France after the war, probably shortly before his death

 

Figure 10. Fedor Löwenstein’s “acte de décès,” or death certificate, showing he died in Nice, France on August 4, 1946

 

REFERENCES

Delatour, Jérôme. (2018 April 3).  “Paint, paint, PAINT!” (1/2). Bibliothèque de l’Institut national d’histoire de l’art. Institut national d’histoire de l’art – INHA

Delatour, Jérôme. (2018 April 5).  “Paint, paint, PAINT!” (2/2). Bibliothèque de l’Institut national d’histoire de l’art.

https://blog.bibliotheque.inha.fr/fr/posts/peindre-peindre-peindre-2-2.html

POST 105: FEDOR LÖWENSTEIN’S NAZI-CONFISCATED ART: RESTITUTION DENIED

Note: In this post, I discuss my own attempt to obtain compensation and damages from the French government on behalf of my family for works of art seized by the Nazis in December 1940 from my father’s first cousin, Fedor Löwenstein, a noted painter. I also touch on the multiple occasions France has wronged my family during WWII, following WWII, and continuing to the present.

Related Posts:

POST 15: BERLIN & MY GREAT-AUNTS FRANZISKA & ELSBETH BRUCK

POST 16: TRACKING MY GREAT-AUNT HEDWIG LÖWENSTEIN, NÉE BRUCK, & HER FAMILY THROUGH FIVE COUNTRIES

POST 71: A DAY IN THE LIFE OF MY FATHER, DR. OTTO BRUCK–22ND OF AUGUST 1930

 

Figure 1. My great-aunt Franziska Bruck (1866-1942)
Figure 2. My great-aunt Elsbeth Bruck (1874-1970)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This story begins in 2014. This is the year my wife and I took a 13-week trip to Europe traveling from northeastern Poland to southeastern Spain following the path of my Jewish family’s diaspora. It included a stop at the Stadtmuseum in Spandau, on the outskirts of Berlin, where the personal papers of two of my accomplished and unmarried great-aunts, Franziska Bruck (Figure 1) and Elsbeth Bruck (Figure 2), are archived. The family items at the Statdtmuseum include academic papers, diaries, numerous professional and personal letters, family photographs, awards, and miscellaneous belongings. (Figures 3a-b) During my visit, I photographed all the articles and artifacts for later study.

 

Figure 3a. Entrance to the Stadtmuseum in Spandau, Berlin, Germany where my great-aunts’ personal papers are archived
Figure 3b. Archival boxes at the Stadtmuseum containing my great-aunts’ personal papers

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The letters and photographs turned out to be most informative. The letters were written in four forms, Old German Script (known as die Kurrentschrift or Kurrent for short in German); an updated version of Kurrent called Sütterlin developed in the early 20th Century; normal German script (deutsche Normalschrift); and typed normal German. Suffice it to say, that the three forms of German script are completely indecipherable to me, so I depended on German-speaking friends and relatives to translate these letters. However, in the case of letters typed in German, using a good on-line translator, called DeepL, I was able to make sense of the content of some of these missives.

One letter I translated provides the basis of much of this Blog post. (Figures 4a-c) It contains astonishing information that led to the seven-year odyssey I embarked upon to obtain redress from the French government for an injustice perpetrated upon my father’s first cousin, Fedor Löwenstein, by the Nazis. The letter was written by Fedor’s younger sister, Jeanne “Hansi” Goff née Löwenstein, to her aunt, my great-aunt, Elsbeth Bruck. It is dated the 30th of October 1946, and was sent from Nice, France to Berlin, Germany. What makes the letter so astounding is not that it mentions both my paternal grandmother ELSE Bruck and my father OTTO Bruck, since both had connections to Nice and France in 1946, but rather to Hansi’s declaration that one of her brother Fedya’s (named Fedor but also called “Fidel”) paintings had sold posthumously in 1946 for 90,000 French Francs. Using a Historic Currency Converter, I determined this would be worth more than $16,000 as of 2015, obviously even more today. Given the enormous amount that one of Fedor Lowenstein’s paintings had fetched in 1946 convinced me that he was no run-of-the-mill painter and that I needed to learn more about him.

 

Figure 4a. First page of typed letter dated the 30th of October 1946 sent by my father’s first cousin, Jeanne “Hansi” Goff née Löwenstein, to her aunt, my great-aunt, Elsbeth Bruck
Figure 4b. Second page of typed letter dated the 30th of October 1946 sent by my father’s first cousin, Jeanne “Hansi” Goff née Löwenstein, to her aunt, my great-aunt, Elsbeth Bruck

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Figure 4c. Translation of letter

 

One place my wife and I visited in 2014 attempting to obtain copies of original death certificates for ancestors who had died in Nice was la Mairie de Nice, City Hall. There, I was able to obtain death certificates not only for Fedor Lowenstein (Figure 5) and his mother, Hedwig Löwenstein née Bruck (Figure 6), but also for his sister, Jeanne Goff née Löwenstein. (Figure 7) I was fortunate to even find Fedor Lowenstein’s name in the death register. In German, his surname was spelled “Löwenstein,” with the “ö,” that’s to say with an umlaugh over the “o,” transcribed in English as “oe”; in the French death register, Fedor’s surname was spelled simply as “Lowenstein” (Figure 8), so I nearly missed finding his name among the 1946 deaths. I would later discover that Fedor’s surname was variously spelled “Lowenstein,” “Löwenstein,” and even “Loevenstein.”

 

Figure 5. Fedor Lowenstein’s death certificate from Nice, France indicating he died there on the 4th of August 1946
Figure 6. Fedor Löwenstein’s mother’s death certificate from Nice, France showing Hedwig Löwenstein née Bruck died there on the 15th of January 1949; the name on her death certificate is “Edwige Bruck”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Figure 7. Fedor Löwenstein’s sister’s death certificate from Nice, France showing Jeanne “Hansi” Goff née Löwenstein died there on the 5th of May 1986; the name on her death certificate is “Jeanne Loewenstein”
Figure 8. Death register listing dated the 5th of August 1946 for Fedor Löwenstein listing his name as “Fedor Lowenstein”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Having obtained the death certificates, I was dispatched to a different administrative office in Nice, le Service Administration Funéraire, the Funeral Administration Office, to locate their tombs. While Fedor’s sister I learned had been cremated, the Funeral Administration Office directed me to the Cimetière Caucade, the Caucade Communal Cemetery (Figure 9), on the outskirts of Nice to find Fedor and Hedwig’s tombstones. (Figures 10-11) It was providential that I was assisted at the Funeral Administration Office by a Mme. Jöelle Saramito (Figure 12), who would later render me a great service.

 

Figure 9. Reception Bureau at Cimitiere Caucade where Fedor Löwenstein and his mother were once interred

 

Figure 10. Hedwig Löwenstein née Bruck’s surviving headstone though her bones were removed to a charnel house
Figure 11. Fedor Loewenstein’s headstone correctly transcribing the “ö” as “oe”; the headstone survives though his bones were also removed to a charnel house

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Figure 12. In 2015, me standing alongside Mme. Jöelle Saramito from Nice’s Funeral Administration Office, who helped track down valuable information about Fedor Löwenstein

 

 

Jeanne Goff née Löwenstein’s translated 1946 letter convinced me her brother was no ordinary painter. Knowing this, I became curious whether I could obtain an obituary from a contemporary newspaper that might lead me to living descendants. Hoping Mme. Saramito might be able to track it down for me, or at least point me in the right direction, I contacted her. What she provided surpassed my expectations.

In what can only be characterized as a fortunate occurrence of serendipity, Mme. Saramito sent me links to several articles about an exposition featuring three of Fedor Löwenstein’s paintings seized by the Nazis that had been displayed at the Musée des Beaux-Arts de Bordeaux. Unbeknownst to my wife and me, this exhibit had taken place there between the 16th of May and the 24th of August 2014, overlapping our extended stay in Europe that year; needless to say, had we known about this exposition, we would have detoured there.

Among the links Mme. Saramito sent me was an article naming the art curator for the exhibition held at the Musée des Beaux-Arts, a lady named Florence Saragoza; the article also mentioned the French government was looking for legitimate family members to whom Fedor Loewenstein’s artworks could be returned.

 

Figure 13. March 1946 photo of Fedor Loewenstein (seated) with his sister Hansi, his brother Heinz, and his mother Hedwig in Nice, France, taken several months before his death in August 1946
Figure 14. Photo of Fedor Loewenstein with his brother Heinz in military uniform taken in Nice, France on the 24th of October 1945

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

While I had several photographs of Fedor Löwenstein with his family in Nice (Figurse 13-14) found at the Stadtmuseum in Spandau, and a copy of his acte de décès, death certificate, obtained from la Mairie de Nice, there was much I did not know about my father’s first cousin. Hoping to learn more, I tried to contact Mme. Saragoza, and quickly discovered she was affiliated with the Ministère de la Culture et de la Communication as a conservatrice du patrimoine, curator of heritage. My initial email to her at the Ministère de la Culture “bounced.” I eventually learned that she was also the then-Director of the Musée Crozatier in le Puy-en-Velay, France (Figure 15), where my subsequent email reached her. I will always remember her response dated the 16th of September 2014, “What a surprise to read your e-mail! (To be honest I cried) . . .I’m so glad to read about someone from Lowenstein’s family!” Logically, Mme. Saragoza had assumed that Fedor’s family had been murdered in the Holocaust, emigrated, or would be unlikely to learn about the exhibition in Bordeaux and the resurfaced paintings. More on this later.

 

Figure 15. Mme. Florence Saragoza, former Director of Musée Crozatier in le Puy-en-Velay, France

 

 

Almost immediately after connecting with Mme. Saragoza, she sent me the Journal d’exposition, the exhibition catalog, for the Fédor Löwenstein (1901-1946) trois œuvres martyres exposition. (Figure 16) Most of Fedor Löwenstein’s biography and the history behind the works of art confiscated by the Nazis is drawn from this reference.

 

Figure 16. Cover page of the 2014 exhibition catalog from the Musée des Beaux-Arts de Bordeaux that featured Fedor Löwenstein’s three orphaned paintings

 

 

Wilhelm Fédor Löwenstein was born in Munich, Germany on the 13th of April 1901, and is often characterized as a Czech painter because this was his family’s country of origin. He first studied at the School of Decorative Arts in Berlin and then at the Academy of Fine Arts in Dresden. In 1923, Fédor Löwenstein settled in Paris (Figures 17a-b), attracted by the artistic influence of the capital. An artistic movement dominated there, designated in 1925 as the École de Paris, the School of Paris; in reality, this name does not refer to any school that really existed, but rather to the École de Paris, which brought together artists who contributed to making Paris the focus of artistic creation between the two world wars. It was in this rich artistic context that Löwenstein painted and drew.

 

Figure 17a. Undated photo of Fedor Löwenstein as a young man
Figure 17b. Back of undated photo of Fedor Löwenstein indicating he was the first cousin of my aunt Susanne Müller-Bruck, my uncle Fedor Bruck, and my father Otto Bruck

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In Paris he mixed with and became a student of the painter André Lhote from Bordeaux and joined the “Groupe des Surindépendants” in 1936. Löwenstein’s early works were marked by the influence of cubism, whose main representatives worked in Paris, although his subsequent productions evolved towards abstraction, probably under the influence of André Lhote. In 1938, he painted “La Chute” (The Fall), inspired by the signing of the Munich Agreement that dismantled the Czechoslovakia that had been created in 1918. As is noted in the 2014 Bordeaux retrospective exhibition catalog, “The composition and iconographic vocabulary of the work are reminiscent of the convulsed and screaming silhouettes of Picasso’s Guernica, exhibited a year earlier in the Spanish Pavilion at the Paris World’s Fair.” The comparison to Picasso’s famed work speaks volumes about Löwenstein’s remarkable talent. 

When France entered the war in September 1939, Löwenstein, like many artists, had to leave the capital. As a foreigner, he had to hide to escape France’s exclusion laws. He went to Mirmande (Drôme) on the advice of Marcelle Rivier, a friend and another of André Lhote’s students. The two artists probably met in Paris shortly before France entered the war. At that time, Mirmande, a village in ruins, welcomed a few painters who lived there. But most of them came there to work alongside André Lhote during his summer academy. The village became a place of refuge for many Parisian artists of foreign origin, all of whom led a relatively peaceful life, free from military operations and repression, contending mostly with the difficulty of obtaining art supplies.

This ended abruptly when the Germans occupied the whole of Metropolitan France in November 1942. Until then, the French Demarcation line marked the boundary between the occupied part of France administered by the German Army in the northern and western part of France and the Zone libre in the south. The suppression of the Demarcation line marked by the invasion of the southern zone by the Germans put an end to the peaceful life the artists in Miramande had enjoyed.  This caused the group gathered there to break up.

From then on, it was the French Resistance network that worked to protect the refugees of Mirmande, thus allowing many Jewish painters to flee. Marcelle Rivier, Fedor Löwenstein’s friend who had enticed him to move there, somewhat amusingly described her involvement in his evacuation in 1943 from Miramande: “That night I put on Lowenstein one of these vast peasant skirts that we wore then and by a night of full moon in this month of February 1943, we left for Cliousclat. . .With his skirt, Lowenstein had the air of a horse disguised and the ground left no other means than to take the traced road. There I entrusted him to Ména Loopuyt, a Dutch painter living in Cliousclat. Charles Caillet had gone by bicycle to the abbey of Aiguebelle to get along with the abbot and gave us an appointment at his house. The next day at midnight, Doctor Debanne disguised the Jews as wounded, and they were taken to Aiguebelle.”

As the exposition catalog goes on to describe, “They [the Jews] were in possession of false identity cards made by Maurice Caillet, the curator of the Valence Museum. In agreement with the bishopric and the superior of the community, the monks of the abbey of Aiguebelle in the Drôme welcomed refugees at the end of 1942 and sheltered Jews whom they employed in the various works of the abbey. Löwenstein decorated tiles without enthusiasm.”

In the fall of 1943, ill, Fedor went to Paris, under the pseudonym of Lauriston, to consult at the Curie Institute and at the Broussais Hospital in the south of Paris, where Dr. Paul Chevallier, a French pioneer in hematology, was practicing. However, his disease was not diagnosed, and he continued to deteriorate. Löwenstein would eventually return to his family in Nice, where he was hospitalized and would die on the 4th of August 1946. It was determined he died of Hodgkins Lymphoma.

Fedor’s association with the “Groupe des Surindépendants” from 1936 onward resulted in him exhibiting regularly with them until the outbreak of WWII. The group even organized a personal exhibition for him in 1939. At some point in 1940 during his stay in Miramande, Fedor returned to Paris where he selected small format works as well as six watercolors that he brought to be shipped to New York City. There is little information about the circumstances surrounding this project, but the paintings were sent to a harbor warehouse in Bordeaux for shipment to an American gallery. Unfortunately, the crates never left Bordeaux but were instead “requisitioned” by German military authorities on the 5th of December 1940, the date of a major seizure operation.

A special commando unit affiliated with the “Einsatzstab Reichsleiter Rosenberg (ERR)” (Reichsleiter Rosenberg Taskforce) raided the warehouse where Fedor’s crates were stored, seized them, and had them shipped to Paris where they were stored at the “Jeu de Paume.” The ERR was a Nazi Party organization dedicated to appropriating cultural property during WWII and was led by the chief ideologue of the Nazi Party, Alfred Rosenberg, ergo its name. The Jeu de Paume was the seat of ERR’s processing of looted art objects confiscated from Jewish-owned collections.

Owing to the abstract cubist nature of Löwenstein’s works, the ERR staff at the Jeu de Paume deemed them as “degenerate” and consigned them to the store room for condemned art, the “Salles des Martyrs,” Martyrs’ Hall. They were marked for destruction, in German “vernichet.” In total, 25 paintings by Fedor were seized and brought to the Jeu de Paume to be disposed of for ideological reasons.

Almost seventy years after the Liberation of Paris in August 1944 three of the purportedly destroyed Löwenstein paintings resurfaced in French museum collections. French Ministry of Culture officials were able to match the resurrected paintings with information contained in the ERR database for three works labeled by the Germans as Löwenstein 4 (“Paysage” or Landscape), Löwenstein 15 (“Peupliers” or Poplars), and Löwenstein 19 (“Les Arbes” or The Trees). In the official catalogue of unclaimed works and objects of art known as “Musée Nationaux Récupération (MNR),” the works are assigned MNR numbers R26, R27, and R28. These three paintings correspond to Löwenstein’s works of art that were displayed at the Musée des Beaux-Arts in Bordeaux in 2014 for which I would later file a claim for restitution. As an aside, all three paintings were signed “Fedor Loevenstein.” I would later learn from a French reader of my Blog, who purchased several of his works at auction, that Löwenstein also signed some with his initials in reverse, “LF.”

In connection with researching and writing the catalog for the 2014 exhibit of Fedor Löwenstein’s three resurrected paintings, Florence Saragoza and her colleagues uncovered the notes of the curator at the Jeu de Paume, Rose Valland. Her notes from July 20, 1943, confirm the fate of artworks destined for destruction: “Scholz and his team continue to choose from among the paintings in the Louvre’s escrow and stab the paintings they do not want to keep. This is how they destroyed almost all of Masson’s works, all of Dalí’s. The paintings in the Loewenstein, Esmont (sic), M[ichel]-G[eorges] Michel collections are almost all shredded. . .” On July 23rd, she added “The paintings massacred in the Louvre’s sequestration were brought back to the Jeu de Paume. Five or six hundred were burned under German surveillance in the museum garden from 11 a.m. to 3 p.m. . . . The paintings that remained in the Louvre were classified by category. . .”. It appears that Löwenstein’s three works that escaped destruction had been classified by the Louvre as “paintings of lesser importance,” while the remaining works were likely stabbed, shredded and/or incinerated.

As a side note, since virtually all the images of Fedor Löwenstein’s paintings as well as the historic images of the Martyrs’ Hall at the Jeu de Paume are copyrighted, I refer readers to the hyperlinks to view photos.

As a mildly interesting aside, Florence Saragoza and her colleagues, using the notes left behind by Rose Valland, then curatorial attaché at the Jeu de Paume, were able to attribute most of the paintings exhibited there. They did this using a detailed digitization of the negatives, work by work, accompanied by anamorphosis. This was a new term to me and is defined as: “. . .a distorted projection requiring the viewer to occupy a specific vantage point, use special devices, or both to view a recognizable image. It is used in painting, photography, sculpture and installation, toys, and film special effects. The word is derived from the Greek prefix ana-, meaning ‘back’ or ‘again’, and the word morphe, meaning ‘shape’ or ‘form.’ Extreme anamorphosis has been used by artists to disguise caricatures, erotic and scatological scenes, and other furtive images from a casual spectator, while revealing an undistorted image to the knowledgeable viewer.” In the case of the historic photos on display in the Martyrs’ Hall, I take this to mean that since the paintings in the photos look somewhat distorted, some digital manipulation was required to identify and attribute the works of art.

As previously mentioned, Fedor Löwenstein’s 25 paintings were seized from État-major administratif du port, hangar H, Bordeaux, the “Port Administration Headquarters, Hanger H, Bordeaux.” They were seized at the same time as a set of Dali’s works were taken from another collector, which were described under the acronym “unbekannt,” “unknown.” This was intended to indicate that the history of the works had been lost during the various transfers from their seizure in Bordeaux to their shipment to Paris, the inventories being drawn up only belatedly by the historians of the ERR. Again quoting from the exhibition catalog, “But the fact that these collections were made anonymous was also part of the ideological policy of the Third Reich, which aimed at cultural appropriation, an affirmation of superiority inscribed in a historical connection and a rewriting of art history.” As in the case of Dali’s works, the provenance of the three orphan paintings by Löwenstein was lost and they were described as having been donated anonymously in 1973. Only in 2011 were they were reclassified as stolen works. This brings me to where things stood when I learned all the above.

Soon after connecting with Florence Saragoza, she asked me whether I wanted to file a claim with the Commission pour l’indemnisation des victimes de spoliations (CIVS) for the return of Fedor Löwenstein’s three orphan paintings, as well as payment of damages. CIVS is the commission established in 1999 under the French Prime Minister to implement the policy of the State regarding the reparation of the damages suffered by the Jews of France whose property was looted during the Occupation, because of the anti-Semitic measures taken by the German occupier or by the Vichy regime. This seemed like a logical next step. Given my intimate familiarity with my father and his first cousins’ family tree, I immediately realized that I am Fedor’s closest living relative. (Figure 18) That’s to say, because neither Fedor nor either of his two siblings had any children or surviving spouses, as a first cousin once removed, I am their closest surviving blood relative.

 

Figure 18. My father Dr. Otto Bruck (1907-1994) standing alongside his first cousin and the sister of Fedor Löwenstein, Jeanne “Hansi” Goff née Löwenstein, on the 2nd of March 1947 in Fayence, France, the town from where my aunt Susanne Müller-Bruck was deported to Auschwitz

 

 

With Mme. Saragoza’s gracious assistance, I filed a claim with CIVS in October 2014. CIVS acknowledged receipt of my claim in November 2014, assigning it a case number, “Requête 24005 BROOK,” noting that considering the numerous claims pending before their office and the multiple archives and offices that would need to be consulted, it could take some time to render a decision. In fact, it took more than 6 ½ years.

In June 2015, my wife and I met with the staff at the CIVS in Paris (Figure 19) to discuss my claim, whereupon I provided them with a written account of the chronology detailed above and my ancestral connection to Fedor Löwenstein. In February 2017, I was eventually contacted by a genealogist contracted by CIVS to investigate my claim. I shared an updated written account of what I had sent to CIVS in 2015, and included an extensive array of historic documents, photos, and exhibits, along with a detailed family tree. In essence, I did the genealogist’s work for him.

 

Figure 19. In June 2015, meeting in Paris with Mme. Muriel De Bastier and Mlle. Eleonore Claret from CIVS, the Premier Ministre’s office handling my restitution claim

 

Between February 2017 and June 2021, when CIVS rendered their written decision, I was never contacted by the Premier Ministre’s office. The decision letter from the Premier Ministre along with the attached report by Le Rapporteur Generale arrived on the 17th of June 2021. It included much of the same information discussed above. The final decision is that my claim was rejected.

Beyond the disappointment and anger I feel about this determination, I was curious about the merits and legal basis of this ruling. Inasmuch as I can ascertain, it appears that because France is governed by principles of civil law rather than common law, my rights have been supplanted. Civil law has its features compiled and codified into a collection for ready reference. It is inspired by the Roman law. Common law, on the other hand, has its rules and regulations administered by judges and vary on a case-to-case basis. Civil law was framed in France. Common law was started in England. Common law varies from case to case depending upon the customs of the society whereas civil law has a predefined written set of statutes and codes for reference. Judgment in common law varies whereas in civil law, the judges must strictly follow the codification written in the book.

In the case of my claim for restitution, CIVS concluded there are what are called “universal legatees,” an element of civil law, whose claim to Löwenstein’s property and damages supersede my own. France considers property left in a will a “universal legacy,” so the person who inherits the rights, obligations, possession, and debts of an ancestor’s title in property through a testamentary disposition is called a “universal legatee.”

These universal legatees in the case of Fedor Löwenstein’s estate are descendants of individuals, merely friends, who inherited from his brother and sister. They and their descendants were not and are not related by blood to Fedor Löwenstein, as I am. Were it not for my efforts to uncover information about Fedor’s orphaned works and file a claim for repatriation and damages, these individuals would have no knowledge of their existence. Furthermore, had it not been for my own extensive genealogical research into Fedor Löwenstein’s spoliated works and ancestry, the CIVS genealogist contracted to undertake the forensic investigation into my claim likely would not have uncovered all the information I provided in 2017. Notwithstanding the stated wishes of CIVS and the Musée National d’Art Moderne housed in the Centre Pompidou in Paris to restore Fedor Löwenstein’s to his family, this is emphatically not happening.

Figure 20. My father Dr. Otto Bruck standing on la Promenade des Anglais in Nice, France in 1946

In retrospect, I would say I should not be surprised by this outcome. France has a long-standing tradition of having wronged my family going back to when the French were complicit in helping the Germans deport my aunt Susanne Müller née Bruck in August 1942, from Fayence, France to Auschwitz, where she was ultimately murdered. Then, following the war, in 1948, they arrested my father, Dr. Otto Bruck (Figure 20), in Nice, France for allegedly practicing dentistry illegally, simply for managing the practice of a dentist who had no interest in her business. My father was arrested only because he was “apatride,” stateless. Rather than offer French citizenry to a man who spoke fluent French and who offered a service much-in-need following WWII, they detained and intended to prosecute him had he not decamped for America. And this although my father served France nobly and honorably for five years during the war as a soldier in the French Foreign Legion. Arguably, France may have met its legal obligation with its decision regarding my claim, but they most assuredly have not fulfilled their moral obligation by handing over my ancestor’s paintings and awarding damages to so-called “universal legatees.” Family of Fedor Löwenstein they are decidedly NOT!!

 

 

REFERENCE

 

Fédor Löwenstein (1901-1946) trois œuvres martyres. 16 May-24 Aug. 2014. Musée des Beaux-Arts de Bordeaux, Bordeaux.

 

 

VITAL STATISTICS OF WILHELM FÉDOR LÖWENSTEIN & HIS IMMEDIATE FAMILY

 

NAME EVENT DATE PLACE SOURCE
         
Wilhelm Fédor Löwenstein (self) Birth 13 April 1901 Munich, Germany Munich Birth Certificate
  Death 4 August 1946 Nice, France Nice Death Certificate
Rudolf Löwenstein (father) Birth 17 January 1872 Kuttenplan, Czechoslovakia [today: Chodová Planá, Czech Republic] Kuttenplan, Czechoslovakia Birth Register Listing
  Marriage (to Hedwig Bruck) 17 September 1899 Ratibor, Germany [today: Racibórz, Poland] LDS Family History Center Microfilm Roll 1184449 (Ratibor)
  Death 22 August 1930 Iglau, Czechoslovakia [today: Jihlava, Czech Republic] LDS Family History Center Microfilm Roll 1184408 (Danzig)
Hedwig Löwenstein Bruck (mother) Birth 22 March 1870 Ratibor, Germany [today: Racibórz, Poland] LDS Family History Center Microfilm Roll 1184449 (Ratibor)
  Marriage (to Rudolf Löwenstein) 17 September 1899 Ratibor, Germany [today: Racibórz, Poland] Ratibor Marriage Certificate
  Death 15 January 1949 Nice, France Nice Death Certificate
Elsbeth Bruck (aunt) Birth 17 November 1874 Ratibor, Germany [today: Racibórz, Poland German Democratic Republic Passport
  Death 20 February 1970 East Berlin, German Democratic Republic  
Jeanne “Hansi” Goff née Löwenstein (sister) Birth 9 September 1902 Danzig, Free State [today: Gdansk, Poland] Danzig Birth Certificate
  Marriage (to Georges Goff) UNKNOWN    
  Death 5 May 1986 Nice, France Nice Death Certificate
Heinz Löwenstein (brother) (died as “Hanoch Avneri”) Birth 8 March 1905 Danzig, Free State [today: Gdansk, Poland] LDS Family History Center Microfilm Roll 1184407 (Danzig)
  Marriage (to Rose Bloch) 22 October 1931 Danzig, Free State [today: Gdansk, Poland] Danzig Marriage Certificate
  Death 10 August 1979 Haifa, Israel Haifa Burial Certificate
Otto Bruck (first cousin) (died as Gary Otto Brook) Birth 16 April 1907 Ratibor, Germany [today: Racibórz, Poland] Ratibor Birth Certificate
  Marriage 22 October 1949 Manhattan, New York  
  Death 14 September 1994 Queens, New York New York City Death Certificate
Richard Alan Brook (first cousin once removed) Birth 27 December 1950 Manhattan, New York  

 

 

 

Post 98, Part 1 (Stories): The Woinowitz Zuckerfabrik (Sugar Factory) Outside Ratibor (Part V-Chilean Descendants)

 

Note: In this post I relate the story about a German gentleman born in Santiago, Chile in 1944 and now living in Bonn, Germany, Mr. Roberto Hirsch, who is the great grandnephew of Sigmund Hirsch, the co-owner of the Woinowitz Zuckerfabrik outside Ratibor, Germany [today: Racibórz, Poland]. Roberto contacted me through my Blog and filled in gaps in my understanding of the fate of some of his ancestors, adding nuance, color, and some fascinating context to a horrific period in history. I will not pretend to readers I can do justice to Roberto’s family story, nor tell a comprehensive story. Rather, I will highlight aspects that augment the story of some people I have previously written about or examine lesser-known facts of my extended family’s survival during WWII.

 

Related Posts:

Post 27: Jewish Deportations from Gurs, France in 1942

Post 36: The Woinowitz Zuckerfabrik (Sugar Factory) Outside Ratibor (Part I-Background)

Post 36, Postscript: The Woinowitz Zuckerfabrik (Sugar Factory) Outside Ratibor (Part I-Maps)

Post 55: The Woinowitz Zuckerfabrik (Sugar Factory) Outside Ratibor (Part II-Restitution for Forced Sale by The Nazis)

Post 59: The Woinowitz Zuckerfabrik (Sugar Factory) Outside Ratibor (Part III—Heirs)

Post 61: The Woinowitz Zuckerfabrik (Sugar Factory) Outside Ratibor (Part IV-Grundbuch (Land Register))

 

Figure 1a. A postcard of the Woinowitz sugar factory as it looked in the early 1900’s

 

 

Figure 1b. The still-standing Woinowitz sugar factory in 2014

 

In multiple earlier posts, I have spoken at length about the Woinowitz Zuckerfabrik (sugar factory) (Figures 1a-b), located outside Ratibor, Germany [today: Racibórz, Poland], the town where my father was born in 1907. Prior to the forced sale of the plant during the Nazi era, the business was co-owned by Adolph Schück (1840-1916) (Figure 2) and his brother-in-law Sigmund Hirsch (1848-1920). (Figure 3) Adolph and Sigmund were married to sisters, and they and their wives died in Ratibor and were interred there in the former Jewish Cemetery.

 

Figure 2. Adolph Schück (1840-1916), co-owner with Sigmund Hirsch of the Woinowitz Zuckerfabrik
Figure 3. Sigmund Hirsch (1848-1920)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Given the general inaccessibility of records from Jewish ancestors who wound up in South America, it is always gratifying when surviving descendants with connections there send me messages. Such was the case when I was contacted by Roberto Hirsch, born in Santiago, Chile in 1944 but living in Bonn, Germany for the past 50 years. For context, he explained that his great-grandfather, Jakob Hirsch (1842-1905) (Figure 4), was one of Sigmund’s older brothers, and that he was married to Auguste Hirsch née Hirsch (1849-1935). (Figure 5)

 

Figure 4. Sigmund Hirsch’s older brother, Jakob Hirsch (1842-1905) (photo courtesy of Roberto Hirsch)
Figure 5. Jakob Hirsch’s wife, Auguste Hirsch née Hirsch (1849-1935) (photo courtesy of Roberto Hirsch)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Roberto told me ample stories and gave me enough enticing clues about some of his ancestors that it sent me down one of the deepest rabbit holes I have ever climbed into seeking primary source documents, my gold standard for accuracy. As readers will learn in the second part of this two-part Blog post, I accessed historic records on Roberto’s ancestors that were practically indecipherable. Fortunately, my German friend, Peter Hanke, the “Wizard of Wolfsburg,” confirmed they were pertinent and translated them. Including Roberto’s generation, I have incredibly now found seven generations of his family, going all the way back to 1739!! For Jewish families, this covers a long span.

 

Figure 6. Sigmund & Selma Hirsch in Ratibor with their three children from left to right: Henrietta (Frieda), Robert, and Helene (Lene)

 

Sigmund Hirsch was married to Selma Braun (1856-1916), one of 14 children the Ratibor brewery owner Markus Braun (1817-1870) had with two wives. Sigmund and Selma had three children, Helene “Lene” Goldenring née Hirsch (1880-1968), Robert Hirsch (1881-1943), and Henrietta “Frieda” Mamlok née Hirsch (1883-1955). (Figure 6) Prior to being contacted by Roberto Hirsch, I had already learned the fate of all three children. From Lene Goldenring’s (Figure 7) post-WWII German compensation file, I knew she had died in 1968 in Newark, New Jersey, that her brother Robert perished in Valparaiso, Chile in 1943, and that her sister Frieda had passed away in Montevideo, Uruguay in 1955. (Figure 8)

 

Figure 7. Sigmund Hirsch’s daughter, Helene “Lene” Goldenring, in New York at Christmas 1950
Figure 8. Sigmund Hirsch’s daughter, Henrietta “Frieda” Mamlok née Hirsch, with her husband Dr. Alfred Mamlok on their wedding day in the early 1900’s

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Among the relatives Roberto first told me about was his namesake, Robert Hirsch, Sigmund’s middle child. Robert had studied electrical engineering in Berlin but had unspecified problems there, so his parents arranged to send him to Spain to work for AEG, “Allgemeine Elektricitäts-Gesellschaft.” The company was founded in 1883 in Berlin by Emil Rathenau, and according to Roberto, the Rathenau had ties to the Hirsch family from Ratibor. Possibly a business relationship existed between the families connected to the Woinowitz Zuckerfabrik and maybe this facilitated Robert Hirsch obtaining a position as general manager for AEG in Bilbao, Spain? So far, I have been unable to find the thread.

Robert Hirsch was not the only member of the Hirsch family to find refuge in Spain before or during WWII. In Post 27, I talked at length about Robert’s niece, Eva Zernik née Goldenring (1906-1969) (Figure 9), who made her way to Madrid after walking away or escaping from the French detention center in Gurs, France. As I pointed out in Post 27, security at Gurs was lax, and because Eva spoke impeccable French, she likely managed to cross the nearby Spanish border illegally using money she had squirreled away to bribe human smugglers. She remained in Madrid until 1947 when she emigrated to America.

 

Figure 9. Sigmund Hirsch’s granddaughter, Eva Zernik née Goldenring (1906-1969), in Florence, Italy in June 1938 standing alongside my father, Dr. Otto Bruck, with whom she partnered in tennis

 

 

Roberto Hirsch’s parents, Fritz Hirsch (1908-2006) and Margarete Hirsch née Janzen (1914-1992), also made their way to Spain. Prior to the ascendancy of the Nazis, it had been envisioned that Fritz would take over the family fashion business in Bonn, established by his father Hermann Hirsch (1876-1943) (Figures 10-11) at the turn of the 20th Century; named “Wittgensteiner,” this store was famous throughout Germany for its fine apparel from England, France, and elsewhere. (Figures 12a-d) After it quickly became apparent the store would be expropriated by the Nazis, Fritz escaped to France to join his older brother Kurt Hirsch (1905-1993) (Figures 13-14) who had tried to establish a new life in Paris after his PhD. was revoked by the Nazis in 1933. Like my own father, Kurt joined the French Foreign Legion, but unlike my father who was shipped to Algeria, Kurt remained hidden in the south of France until 1945, eluding the German occupiers for five years and experiencing innumerable adventures.

 

Figure 10. Roberto’s father and grandfather, Fritz Hirsch (1908-2006) and Hermann Hirsch (1876-1943), in 1928 (photo courtesy of Roberto Hirsch)
Figure 11. Roberto’s grandfather, Hermann Hirsch (1876-1943) with his two sons, Kurt Hirsch (1905-1993) and Fritz Hirsch (1908-2006), in 1932 in Colmar, now a part of Alsace, France but formerly belonging to Germany (photo courtesy of Roberto Hirsch)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Figure 12a. Hermann Hirsch’s fashion store in Bonn, “Wittgensteiner” (photo courtesy of Roberto Hirsch)
Figure 12b. Hermann Hirsch’s fashion store in Bonn, “Wittgensteiner” (photo courtesy of Roberto Hirsch)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Figure 12c. Hermann Hirsch’s fashion store in Bonn, “Wittgensteiner” (photo courtesy of Roberto Hirsch)
Figure 12d. Hermann Hirsch’s fashion store in Bonn, “Wittgensteiner” (photo courtesy of Roberto Hirsch)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Figure 13. Roberto Hirsch’s uncle Kurt Hirsch (center) (1905-1993) at his bar mitzvah in 1918, amidst his family, many of whom were murdered in the Holocaust including veterans of WWI (photo courtesy of Roberto Hirsch)

 

 

Figure 14. Roberto’s uncle Kurt Hirsch (1905-1993) in Paris in 1984 (photo courtesy of Roberto Hirsch)

 

Because Fritz’s residence permit in France only allowed for a three-month stay, he tried to get to Spain. There he knew some people with whom he had studied in Bonn that had good connections to Spanish Government officials. Through this channel, Fritz obtained an unlimited residence permit for Spain. Several months later Roberto’s mother, only 21 at the time, left Germany by train and joined her future husband there. Roberto’s mother, incidentally, was Protestant, and, on account of her relationship with Fritz Hirsch, was considered by the National Socialists as a “Judenliebchen,” a Jew’s lover, strictly forbidden under Nazi law.

Roberto tells a few fascinating stories about his parents’ time in Spain.

Roberto’s parents lived mostly in small towns in the northern part of the country. In the mid-1930’s, Spain was a cultural and social backwater with limited outside contacts. Arriving speaking not a word of Spanish and having no money Fritz still managed to land himself a job as a traveling salesman selling office supplies. Armed with only a small dictionary, he traveled around his sales district, speaking his broken Spanish to comical delight and endless derision. Nonetheless, the Spaniards, a joyful people by nature, were so amused by the situation, they bought more supplies than they needed. Thus, Fritz was able to provide for himself and his wife.

Roberto’s parents were in touch with Robert Hirsch during their four-year stay in Spain between 1935 and 1939. By virtue of Robert’s position as general manager for AEG, he had more freedom of movement, which allowed all to meet periodically. Based on Roberto’s aunt’s surviving address book, Fritz Hirsch lived for a time in Bilbao. (Figure 15) Given that Robert, Fritz, and Margarete’s stays in Spain overlapped with almost the entirety of the Spanish Civil War, which began on the 17th of July 1936 and ended on the 1st of April 1939, I was particularly curious how the conflict might have affected their lives.

 

Figure 15. Page from Margarete “Gretel” Hirsch’s address book showing her brother Frederico (Fritz), Roberto’s father, lived in Bilbao (photo courtesy of Roberto Hirsch)

 

Roberto relates one amusing story about an unnerving encounter his mother had towards the beginning of the Spanish Civil War. At the time, at least in northern Spain, the conflict was a low-key affair. Young men from opposing sides would gather in an open field and start shooting at one another with their ancient and off target rifles; neither side could afford more accurate arms, so damage and injury was limited. One day Roberto’s mother was returning from shopping and came upon this scene. Suddenly, a voice shouted, “stop shooting, the lady wants to pass.” And the boys did precisely this, allowing her to walk through with trembling knees, whereafter the same voice shouted, “now we can continue!”

According to Roberto’s parents, the conflict became more gruesome when the Germans, Italians, and Soviets began to send troops and more sophisticated arms. At the time, Fritz and Margarete lived in a small town not far from Guernica. Students of history know this town was the scene of an infamous April 26, 1937 bombing, the first aerial bombing by the German Luftwaffe carried out at the behest of Francisco Franco’s Nationalist faction; the number of casualties ranged from about 150 to more than 1600, depending on which faction was reporting.  This incident was the inspiration for Pablo Picasso’s famous painting “Guernica.”

At some point, Roberto’s father had to renew his German passport and was forced to visit the German consulate in Bilbao, which was evidently staffed by Nazis. While Fritz’s passport was eventually renewed, it did not happen before anti-Semitic epithets were hurled at him and he was told that Berlin would be informed of his whereabouts. I have on occasion uncovered vital documents for some Jewish ancestors with their location outside of Germany noted. Roberto’s story is independent confirmation that this in fact took place, ostensibly because the Nazis expected one day to invade these yet unoccupied countries and round up Jews living there. No doubt, Fritz and other Jews living in Spain were worried about this eventuality.

As the Spanish Civil War intensified and Franco’s forces captured larger cities, Roberto’s parents moved further west towards Portugal. Approaching the end of their stay in Spain in 1939, Roberto’s parents lived in La Coruna, the capital of Galicia in the northwest of Spain by the sea, in a zone already captured by Franco. (Figure 16) Each morning, they could hear shooting on the nearby beach as Franco’s forces executed Republican prisoners.

 

Figure 16. Page from Margarete Hirsch’s address book showing her brother Frederico (Fritz) later lived in La Coruna (photo courtesy of Roberto Hirsch)

 

It was at this moment that Roberto’s parents decided to flee Spain. One day they told their neighbors they were traveling to Portugal for the weekend and took with them only two suitcases. Using $3,000 they had saved over the years, they left for Lisbon. Upon their arrival, they started visiting the various consulates trying like thousands of other Jewish refugees there to obtain an exit visa. Everywhere, they were turned down until they visited the Chilean Embassy. Upon their arrival, the Ambassador was out, so a young staffer received them and started flirting with Roberto’s attractive mother; she reciprocated, and this miraculously resulted in Roberto’s parents being granted a visa for Chili. Within a week, by April 1939, they had boarded a ship bound for Buenos Aires, Argentina, a transit point. (Figures 17a-f)

 

Figure 17a. The cover of Fritz Hirsch’s 1936 German passport (photo courtesy of Roberto Hirsch)

 

Figure 17b. The inside page of Fritz Hirsch’s German passport with a big red “J” and “Israel” added to his name, both indicating he was Jewish (photo courtesy of Roberto Hirsch)

 

Figure 17c. Page from Fritz Hirsch’s German passport with visas dated the 3rd of October 1936 and the 7th of October 1936 from La Coruna, Spain authorizing his stay there until the situation normalizes in Bilbao (photo courtesy of Roberto Hirsch)

 

Figure 17d. Pages from Fritz Hirsch’s passport with March 1939 passport stamps for entrance into Portugal and Lisbon (photo courtesy of Roberto Hirsch)

 

Figure 17e. On the left page is the entrance visa for Chile, and on the right side the transit visa for Argentina (photo courtesy of Roberto Hirsch)

 

Figure 17f. On these pages are various passport stamps showing Fritz Hirsch left Portugal on the 14th of April 1939 aboard the ship “Asturias” headed for Buenos Aires, Argentina; left Buenos Aires the 26th of May 1939; and arrived in Chile on the 1st of June 1939 (photo courtesy of Roberto Hirsch)

 

Upon Fritz and Margaret Hirsch’s arrival in Santiago, Chile in June 1939, they were met by Robert Hirsch. (Figure 18) Roberto knows nothing about Robert’s departure from Spain and eventual emigration to Chile. Robert was apparently living with a Spanish woman named Carmen to whom he left a large sum of money upon his departure. Robert’s sister, Helene Goldenring née Hirsch, would eventually also go to Chile via an unknown route from Germany. While I already knew that Robert had died in Valparaiso, Chile on the 7th of October 1943, Roberto explained that his namesake had committed suicide because of a severe persecution complex. This resolved yet another unanswered question I had.

 

Figure 18. Roberto’s mother Margarete Hirsch née Janzen (1914-1992) and Robert Hirsch (1881-1943) in Chile in 1942 with Roberto’s sister in the pram (photo courtesy of Roberto Hirsch)

 

Helene Goldenring lived not with her brother Robert in Valparaiso but with Roberto’s parents (Figures 19-20) in Santiago until she left for America on the 3rd of July 1947 (Figure 21), never having learned to speak any Spanish. Oddly, after her departure, Roberto’s parents never again heard from her.

 

Figure 19. Roberto’s parents, Fritz Hirsch (1908-2006) and Margarete Hirsch née Janzen (1914-1992) in Santiago, Chile in 1975 (photo courtesy of Roberto Hirsch)
Figure 20. Roberto Hirsch with his father in Santiago, Chile in 1998 (photo courtesy of Roberto Hirsch)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Figure 21. Passenger list showing Helene Goldenring née Hirsch’s departure from Valparaiso, Chile on the 3rd of July 1947 headed to New York

 

As to some of Roberto’s relatives who did not escape from Europe, I will briefly relate the heartbreaking story of Roberto’s grandparents, Hermann Hirsch (1876-1943) and Ida Hirsch née Sollinger (1874-1944). (Figures 22-23) Erroneously concluding the Nazis would have no interest in them because of their age, like many other elderly Jews, they consciously decided to stay in Germany. However, by 1939, Hermann and Ida were forced to move to a special house for Jews in Bonn where they paid high prices for water, electricity, and gas. Most of their money had been confiscated, and only a small sum remained from which paltry monthly withdrawals could be made. Around this time their son Fritz began corresponding with his parents from Santiago, Chile, retaining carbon copies of his letters. By 1941, Roberto’s grandparents were again forced to move, this time to a convent in Bonn where the nuns had been evicted. The posts came to a stop in June 1942, when his grandparents were deported to Theresienstadt.

 

Figure 22. Roberto’s grandfather Hermann Hirsch (1876-1943) ca. 1902 (photo courtesy of Roberto Hirsch)
Figure 23. Roberto’s grandparents, Hermann Hirsch (1876-1943) and Ida Hirsch née Sollinger (1874-1944) in 1935 in Bonn, Germany; both later died in Theresienstadt (photo courtesy of Roberto Hirsch)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Roberto graciously shared with me the last correspondence the family ever received from his grandmother. (Figure 24 a-c) It is an exceptional document, a typed postcard written on the 20th of December 1943 from Theresienstadt to Roberto’s family in Geneva. Dictated by Ida Hirsch who was already nearly blind, she wrote that her husband had died of cardiac arrest; the family would later learn from survivors his real cause of death had been suicide, which it was forbidden to write. Preposterously, Ida’s postcard was first sent by the Nazis to Berlin to the “Oberkommando der Wehrmacht” to be censored before being forwarded to Geneva, as though an elderly blind woman could divulge military secrets. It is astonishing the Nazis would allow Jewish internees of the concentration camps any communication with the outside world.

 

Figure 24a. Front of 1943 typed postcard written by Roberto’s grandmother, Ida Hirsch née Sollinger (1874-1944) from Theresienstadt (photo courtesy of Roberto Hirsch)

 

Figure 24b. Text of last postcard ever written by Roberto’s grandmother, Ida Hirsch née Sollinger (1874-1944), from Theresienstadt (photo courtesy of Roberto Hirsch)

 

Figure 24c. Translation of text of December 1943 postcard from Ida Hirsch née Sollinger

 

I am profoundly grateful to Roberto for sharing some of his family’s stories, pictures, and documents. I like to think this has been a mutually beneficial exchange since I have uncovered additional ancestors of which he was unaware including their fates. Roberto’s grandfather had three siblings, only two of which he knew about; the three he knew about were all murdered in the Holocaust, and the fate of the fourth has yet to be worked out.

In the second installment of Post 98, I will describe and illustrate some of the historic documents I recovered from various sources related to Roberto Hirsch’s family that have allowed me to track a few of his relatives to the 18th Century.

 

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VITAL STATISTICS OF SIEGMUND HIRSCH AND HIS RELATIVES

 

NAME EVENT DATE PLACE SOURCE
         
Sigmund Hirsch (self) Birth 18 November 1848 Karlsruhe, Baden-Württemberg, Germany Family History Library Karlsruhe Microfilm Roll 1256447 (p. 441 of 748)
  Death 14 October 1920 Ratibor, Germany [today: Racibórz, Poland] Headstone from former Jewish Cemetery in Ratibor, Germany [today: Racibórz, Poland]; Family History Library Ratibor Microfilm Roll 1184448
Selma Hirsch née Braun (wife) Birth 11 July 1856 Ratibor, Germany [today: Racibórz, Poland] Headstone from former Jewish Cemetery in Ratibor, Germany [today: Racibórz, Poland]; Family History Library Ratibor Microfilm Roll 1184449
  Death 11 July 1916 Ratibor, Germany [today: Racibórz, Poland] Headstone from former Jewish Cemetery in Ratibor, Germany [today: Racibórz, Poland]
Helene Goldenring née Hirsch (daughter) Birth 25 March 1880 Ratibor, Germany [today: Racibórz, Poland] Helene Goldenring’s Hesse, Germany Post-War Compensation File
  Death 12 January 1968 Newark, New Jersey Helene Goldenring’s Hesse, Germany Post-War Compensation File
Robert Hirsch (son) Birth 31 October 1881 Ratibor, Germany [today: Racibórz, Poland] Ratibor birth certificate: Mittweida, Germany 1904 Residence Register
  Death (suicide) 7 October 1943 Valparaiso, Chile Roberto Hirsch (personal communication)
Henrietta “Frieda” Mamlok née Hirsch (daughter) Birth 8 February 1883 Ratibor, Germany [today: Racibórz, Poland]  
  Death 29 July 1955 Montevideo, Uruguay Roberto Hirsch Family Papers
Emanuel Hirsch (father) Birth About 1805 Karlsruhe, Baden-Württemberg, Germany Karlsruhe, Germany death certificate
  Marriage 27 May 1834 Karlsruhe, Baden-Württemberg, Germany Family History Library Karlsruhe Microfilm Roll 1256447 (p. 251 of 748)
  Death 25 March 1880 Karlsruhe, Baden-Württemberg, Germany Karlsruhe, Germany death certificate
Henriette “Jette” Hirsch née Ettlinger (mother) Birth 1808 Karlsruhe, Baden-Württemberg, Germany Karlsruhe, Germany death certificate; Germany Find a Grave Index
  Marriage 27 May 1834 Karlsruhe, Baden-Württemberg, Germany Family History Library Karlsruhe Microfilm Roll 1256447 (p. 251 of 748)
  Death 2 August 1882 Karlsruhe, Baden-Württemberg, Germany Karlsruhe, Germany death certificate
Bernhard Hirsch (aka Leonhard Hirsch) (brother) Birth 26 August 1836 Karlsruhe, Baden-Württemberg, Germany Family History Library Karlsruhe Microfilm Roll 1256447 (p. 272 of 748); Karlsruhe, Germany death certificate
  Marriage (to Sofie Reutlinger) 17 August 1871 Karlsruhe, Baden-Württemberg, Germany Karlsruhe, Germany marriage certificate
  Death 7 December 1888 Karlsruhe, Baden-Württemberg, Germany Karlsruhe, Germany death certificate
Jakob Hirsch (brother) Birth 8 November 1842 Karlsruhe, Baden-Württemberg, Germany Family History Library Karlsruhe Microfilm Roll 1256447 (p. 357 of 748)
  Marriage 30 July 1874 Karlsruhe, Baden-Württemberg, Germany Karlsruhe, Germany marriage certificate
  Death 1905 Neuwied, Germany (buried in Bonn, Germany Jewish Cemetery) Roberto Hirsch (personal communication)
Auguste Hirsch née Hirsch (sister-in-law) Birth 14 January 1849 Ilvesheim, Baden-Württemberg, Germany Family History Library Ilvesheim Microfilm Roll 1271220 (p. 260 of 403); Karlsruhe, Germany marriage certificate
  Marriage 30 July 1874 Karlsruhe, Baden-Württemberg, Germany Karlsruhe, Germany marriage certificate
  Death 1935 Bonn, Germany Roberto Hirsch (personal communication)
Hermann Hirsch (nephew) Birth 19 August 1876 Karlsruhe, Baden-Württemberg, Germany Karlsruhe, Germany birth certificate
  Deportation (to Theresienstadt) 27 July 1942 Trier-Köln, Germany Jewish Victims of Nazi Persecution, 1933-1945
  Death (suicide) 16 February 1943 Theresienstadt, Czechoslovakia Roberto Hirsch (personal communication); Ida Hirsch’s 1943 postcard sent from Theresienstadt
Ida Hirsch née Sollinger (wife of nephew) Birth 1874 Einbeck, Germany Roberto Hirsch (personal communication)
  Death 1944 Theresienstadt, Czechoslovakia Yad Vashem Shoah Victims
Sophie Hirsch (niece) Birth 3 April 1875 Karlsruhe, Baden-Württemberg, Germany Yad Vashem Page of Testimony
  Death UNKNOWN UNKNOWN Yad Vashem Shoah Victims
Bernhard Hirsch (nephew) Birth 7 December 1877 Karlsruhe, Baden-Württemberg, Germany Karlsruhe, Germany birth certificate
  Death UNKNOWN UNKNOWN  
Karl Hirsch (nephew) Birth 15 February 1879 Karlsruhe, Baden-Württemberg, Germany Karlsruhe, Germany birth certificate
  Deportation (to Auschwitz-Birkenau) 10 September 1944 Auschwitz-Birkenau Yad Vashem Shoah Victims
Fritz Hirsch (great-nephew) Birth 20 January 1908 Bonn, North Rhine-Wesphalia, Germany Hirsch Janzen family tree; Roberto Hirsch (personal communication)
  Death 11 January 2006 Santiago, Chile Hirsch Janzen family tree; Roberto Hirsch (personal communication)
Margaret Hirsch née Janzen (wife of great-nephew) Birth 12 January 1914 Elbing, Germany [today: Elbląg, Poland] Hirsch Janzen family tree
  Death 29 February 1992 Santiago, Chile Hirsch Janzen family tree
Roberto Hirsch (great-great-nephew) Birth 3 September 1944 Santiago, Chile Roberto Hirsch (personal communication)