Portrait of Adele Bloch-Bauer I

Gustave Klimt

Contemporary-Art.org
Keywords: PortraitAdeleBlochBauer

Work Overview

Portrait of Adele Bloch-Bauer I
Artist Gustav Klimt
Year 1907
Type Oil, silver, and gold on canvas
Dimensions 138 cm × 138 cm (54 in × 54 in)
Location Neue Galerie, New York


Portrait of Adele Bloch-Bauer I (also called The Lady in Gold or The Woman in Gold) is a painting by Gustav Klimt, completed between 1903 and 1907. The portrait was commissioned by the sitter's husband, Ferdinand Bloch-Bauer (de), a Jewish banker and sugar producer. The painting was stolen by the Nazis in 1941 and displayed at the Österreichische Galerie Belvedere. In 2006, following eight years of effort by the Bloch-Bauer heirs, the painting was returned to the family; it was sold the same year for $135 million, at the time a record price for a painting.


The portrait is the final and most fully representative work of Klimt's golden phase. It was the first of two depictions of Adele by Klimt—the second was completed in 1912; these were two of several works by the artist that the family owned. Adele died in 1925; her will asked that the artworks by Klimt were to be left to the Galerie Belvedere, although these belonged to Ferdinand, not her. Following the Anschluss of Austria by Nazi Germany, Ferdinand fled Vienna, and made his way to Switzerland, leaving behind much of his wealth, including his large art collection. The painting was stolen by the Nazis in 1941, along with the remainder of Ferdinand's assets, after a false charge of tax evasion was made against him. The assets raised from the purported sales of artwork, property and his sugar business were offset against the tax claim. The lawyer acting on behalf of the German state gave the portrait to the Galerie Belvedere, claiming he was following the wishes Adele had made in her will. Ferdinand died in 1946; his will stated that his estate should go to his nephew and two nieces.


In 1998 Hubertus Czernin, the Austrian investigative journalist, established that the Galerie Belvedere contained several works stolen from Jewish owners in the war, and that the gallery had refused to return the art to their original owners, or to acknowledge a theft had taken place. One of Ferdinand's nieces, Maria Altmann, hired the lawyer E. Randol Schoenberg to make a claim against the gallery for the return of five works by Klimt. After a seven year legal claim, which included a hearing in front of the Supreme Court of the United States, an arbitration committee in Vienna agreed that the painting, and others, had been stolen from the family and that it should be returned to Altmann. It was sold to the businessman and art collector Ronald Lauder, who placed the work in the Neue Galerie, the New York-based gallery he co-founded.


The Woman in Gold (Portrait of Adele Bloch-Bauer I) is perhaps the most famous representation of Klimt’s use of gold leaf in his oil paintings. Not only was the painting itself a dazzling piece of art, the story of the woman (the subject) and her relationship with Klimt created intrigue and earned her the moniker of ‘Mona Lisa of  Austria’. The painting also gained publicity after becoming the subject of a long standing lawsuit for rightful ownership filed by Adele’s niece Maria Altmann against Austrian authorities. The story served as the subject of the 2015 movie Woman in Gold.


In 2006, Klimt's portrait, Portrait of Adele Bloch-Bauer I, was purchased for US $135 million as the highest reported price ever paid for a painting.


***
Gustav Klimt was born in 1862 in Baumgarten, near Vienna in Austria-Hungary.[1] He attended the Vienna School of Arts and Crafts (Kunstgewerbeschule) before taking on commissions with his brother, Ernst, and a fellow-student Franz von Matsch from 1879.[2] Over the next decade, alongside several private commissions for portraiture, they painted interior murals and ceilings in large public buildings, including the Burgtheater, the Kunsthistorisches Museum and the ceiling of the Great Hall at the University of Vienna.[3][4]


Klimt worked in Vienna during the Belle Époque, during which time the city made "an extreme and lasting contribution to the history of modern art".[5][6] During the 1890s he was influenced by European avant-garde art, including the works of the painters Fernand Khnopff, Jan Toorop and Aubrey Beardsley.[3] In 1897 he was a founding member and president of the Wiener Secession (Vienna Secession), a group of artists who wanted to break with what they saw as the prevailing conservatism of the Viennese Künstlerhaus.[7] Klimt in particular challenged what he saw as the "hypocritical boundaries of respectability set by Viennese society";[8] according to the art historian Susanna Partsch, he was "the enfant terrible of the Viennese art scene, [and] was acknowledged to be the painter of beautiful women".[9] By 1900 he was the preferred portrait painter of the wives of the largely Jewish Viennese bourgeoisie,[3][10] an emerging class of self-made industrialists who were "buying the innovative new art that state museums rejected", according to the journalist Anne-Marie O'Connor.[11]


From 1898 Klimt began to experiment with the style in what became known as his Byzantine or Golden period, when his works, stylistically influenced by Art Nouveau and the Arts and Crafts movement, were gilded with gold leaf.[12][13][n 1] Klimt had begun using gold in his 1890 portrait of the pianist Joseph Pembauer,[16] but his first work that included a golden theme was Pallas Athene (1898). The art historian Gilles Néret considers that the use of gold in the painting "underlines the essential erotic ingredient in ... [Klimt's] view of the world".[17] Néret also states that Kilmt used the gold to give subjects a sacred or magical quality.


***
Adele Bauer (de) was from a wealthy Jewish Viennese family. Her father was a director of the Wiener Bankverein (de), the seventh largest bank in Austria-Hungary, and the general director of Oriental Railroads.[19] In the late 1890s Adele met Klimt, and may have begun a relationship with him.[20] Opinion is divided on whether Adele and Klimt had an affair. The artist Catherine Dean considered that Adele was "the only society lady painted by Klimt who is known definitely to be his mistress",[21] while the journalist Melissa Müller and the academic Monica Tatzkow write that "no evidence has ever been produced that their relationship was more than a friendship".[22] Whitford observes that some of the preliminary sketches that Klimt made for The Kiss showed a bearded figure which was possibly a self-portrait; the female partner is described by Whitford as an "idealised portrait of Adele". Whitford writes that the only evidence put forward to support the theory is the position of the woman's right hand, as Adele had a disfigured finger following a childhood accident.[23]


Adele's parents arranged a marriage with Ferdinand Bloch, a banker and sugar manufacturer; Adele's older sister had previously married Ferdinand's older brother.[24][25] Ferdinand was older than his fiancée and at the time of the marriage in December 1899, she was 18 and he was 35. The couple, who had no children, both changed their surnames to Bloch-Bauer.[26] Socially well-connected, Adele brought together writers, politicians and intellectuals for regular salons at their home.[27][n 2]


The couple shared a love of art, and patronised several artists, collecting primarily nineteenth-century Viennese paintings and modern sculpture. Ferdinand also had a passion for neoclassical porcelain, and by 1934 his collection was over 400 pieces and one of the finest in the world.[29][30]


In 1901 Klimt painted Judith and the Head of Holofernes; the art historian Gottfried Fliedl observes that the painting is "widely known and interpreted as Salome".[31] Adele was the model for the work,[32] and wore a heavily-jewelled deep choker given to her by Ferdinand, in what Whitford describes as "Klimt's most erotic painting".[27] Whitford also writes that the painting displays "apparent evidence of ... cuckoldry".[27] In 1903 Ferdinand purchased his first Klimt work from the artist, Buchenwald (Beech Forest).


***
Preparation and execution
The mosaic of Empress Theodora at the Basilica of San Vitale, Ravenna
In mid-1903 Ferdinand Bloch-Bauer commissioned Klimt to paint a portrait of his wife; he wished to give the piece to Adele's parents as an anniversary present that October.[28] Klimt drew over a hundred preparatory sketches for the portrait between 1903 and 1904.[33][34][n 4] The Bloch-Bauers purchased some of the sketches he had made of Adele when they obtained 16 Klimt drawings.[35] In December 1903, along with fellow artist Maximilian Lenz, Klimt visited the Basilica of San Vitale in Ravenna where he studied the early-Christian Byzantine gold mosaics of Justinian I and his wife, Empress Theodora.[36][37][35] Lenz later wrote that "the mosaics made an immense decisive impression on ... [Klimt]. From this comes the resplendence, the stiff decoration of his art".[37] Klimt later said that the "mosaics of unbelievable splendour" were a "revelation" to him.[38] The Ravenna mosaics also attracted the attention of other artists who provided illustrations of the work, including Wassily Kandinsky in 1911 and Clive Bell in 1914.[37]


Klimt undertook more extensive preparations for the portrait than any other piece he worked on.[22] Much of the portrait was undertaken by an elaborate technique of using gold and silver leaf and then adding decorative motifs in bas-relief using gesso, a paint mixture consisting of a binder mixed with chalk or gypsum.[39] The gold frame for the painting was made by the architect Josef Hoffmann.[40] Klimt finished the work by 1907.[41]


Description
The painting measures 138 by 138 cm (54 by 54 in);[42][n 5] it is composed of oil paint and silver and gold leaf on canvas. The portrait shows Adele Bloch-Bauer sitting on a golden throne or chair, in front of a golden starry background. Around her neck is the same jewelled choker Klimt included in the Judith painting.[30][33] She wears a tight golden dress in a triangular shape, made up of rectilinear forms.[44][45] In places the dress merges into the background so much so that the museum curator Jan Thompson writes that "one comes across the model almost by accident, so enveloped is she in the thick geometric scheme".[44][45] Peter Vergo, writing for Grove Art, considers that the painting "marks the height of ... [Klimt's] gold-encrusted manner of painting".[3]


Adele's hair, face, décolletage and hands are painted in oil; they make up less than a twelfth of the work and, in Whitford's opinion, convey little about the sitter's character.[33] For Whitford the effect of the gold background is to "remove Adele Bloch-Bauer from the earthly plane, transform the flesh and blood into an apparition from a dream of sensuality and self-indulgence"; he, and Thomson, consider the work to look more like a religious icon than a secular portrait.[39][44] O'Connor writes that the painting "seem[s] to embody femininity", and thus likens it to the Mona Lisa,[40] while for Müller and Tatzkow, the gold gives the effect that Adele appears "melancholy and vulnerable, unapproachably aloof and yet rapt".[22]


Both the current holder of the portrait—the Neue Galerie New York—and the art historian Elana Shapira describe how the background and gown contain symbols suggestive of erotica, including triangles, eggs, shapes of eyes and almonds.[28][45][46] Also present are decorative motifs on the theme of the letters A and B, the sitter's initials.[28] Whitford identifies influences of the art of the Byzantine, Egypt, Mycenae and Greece, describing that "the gold is like that in Byzantine mosaics; the eyes on the dress are Egyptian, the repeated coils and whorls Mycenaean, while other decorative devices, based on the initial letters of the sitter's name, are vaguely Greek".


Klimt exhibited his portrait at the 1907 Mannheim International Art Show, alongside the Portrait of Fritza Riedler (1906). Many of the critics had negative reactions to the two paintings, describing them as "mosaic-like wall-grotesqueries", "bizarre", "absurdities" and "vulgarities".[41]


In 1908 the portrait was exhibited at the Kunstschau in Vienna where critical reaction was mixed.[35] The unnamed reviewer from the Wiener Allgemeine Zeitung described the painting as "an idol in a golden shrine",[40] while the critic Eduard Pötzl described the work as "mehr Blech als Bloch" ("more brass than Bloch").[39][n 6] According to the art historian Tobias G. Natter, some critics disapproved of the loss of the sitter's individuality, while others "accused Klimt of endangering the autonomy of art".


***
The history of the Portrait of Adele Bloch-Bauer I and the other paintings taken from the Bloch-Bauers has been recounted in three documentary films, Stealing Klimt (2007), The Rape of Europa (2007) and Adele's Wish (2008).[91] The painting's history is described in the 2012 book The Lady in Gold: The Extraordinary Tale of Gustav Klimt's Masterpiece, Portrait of Adele Bloch-Bauer, by the journalist Anne-Marie O'Connor.[92] The history, as well as other stories of other stolen art, is told by Melissa Müller and Monika Tatzkow in Lost Lives, Lost Art: Jewish Collectors, Nazi Art Theft, and the Quest for Justice, published in 2010.[93] The story of Adele Bloch-Bauer and Maria Altmann formed the basis for the 2017 novel Stolen Beauty by Laurie Lico Albanese.[94] The portrait is featured in the memoir of Gregor Collins, The Accidental Caregiver, about his relationship with Maria Altmann, published in August 2012.[95] The book was dramatised for the stage in January 2015.[96] In 2015 Altmann's story was dramatised for the film Woman in Gold starring Helen Mirren as Maria and Ryan Reynolds as Schoenberg.[97]


Altmann died in February 2011, aged 94.[98] Schoenberg, who had worked on a 40 per cent conditional fee throughout, received $54 million for the sale of Portrait of Adele Bloch-Bauer I and $55 million for the sale of the remaining four paintings.[99] After he donated over $7 million for the building of the new premises of the Los Angeles Museum of the Holocaust, he said that he had "tried to do good things with the money".[100][101] He subsequently specialised in the restitution of artwork plundered by the Nazis.


--------------------------------
There are many reasons that among the hundreds of thousands of cases involving artwork looted by the Nazis the story of Gustav Klimt’s “Adele Bloch-Bauer I” would particularly appeal to filmmakers. For one, there is the mesmerizing gold-flecked painting itself, which set a record price of $135 million when it was sold in 2006. Then there is the David-and-Goliath tale featuring a feisty octogenarian heroine — Ms. Bloch-Bauer’s niece Maria Altmann — taking on a recalcitrant Austrian government. And finally there is the satisfying conclusion. Ms. Altmann gets the portrait back. Justice prevails.


Yet even today, viewers may not realize how rare such justice is when it comes to the return of art looted during the Nazis’ reign of terror to its rightful owners or — as is now more likely, seven decades later — to their descendants.


As the new film “Woman in Gold,” starring Helen Mirren as the indefatigable Maria Altmann, acknowledges in a brief written prologue before the credits roll, more than 100,000 stolen works of art are still unaccounted for.


When Ms. Altmann first sought to reclaim some of her family’s paintings in 1998, there were reasons to think that the odds of restitution — crushingly low for so long — might have finally improved. After decades of neglect or outright opposition to restitution efforts, international public opinion had finally begun to turn in the wake of post-Cold War revelations about continuing malfeasance involving Nazi plunder. Official reports commissioned by both Switzerland and the United States detailed, for example, how the Swiss had reneged on agreements to return hundreds of millions of dollars’ worth of gold stolen by Nazi Germany, while Swiss banks had agreed to a $1.25 billion settlement with Holocaust survivors after being sued for their refusal to return assets deposited for safekeeping during the war. Meanwhile, a new generation, less interested in covering up historical sins, exposed the ways governments, museum officials, dealers and buyers often systematically frustrated attempts to return stolen assets and art to the original owners.


In 1998, 44 countries, including Austria, signed the Washington Principles on Nazi-Confiscated Art, a nonbinding agreement that called for a “just and fair solution” for Jews and other victims of Nazi persecution.


That same year, the Austrian Parliament passed a law requiring museums to open up their archives for research and to return plundered property. The legislation was spurred in part by revelations about looted art published by the journalist Hubertus Czernin, portrayed in the film by Daniel Brühl. He discovered, in the formerly sealed archives of the Austrian Gallery, evidence that the country’s claim to the Bloch-Bauer Klimts was faulty.


Several paintings, including the 1907 portrait of Adele, had been hanging in museums after their confiscation by Nazi agents. Austria had long claimed that Ms. Bloch-Bauer, who died in 1925 from meningitis, left the portrait to the country in her will. But records showed that the artwork clearly belonged to her husband, the wealthy Jewish industrialist Ferdinand Bloch-Bauer, who fled his homeland in 1938. And he had left his entire estate to his heirs — one of whom was his niece Ms. Altmann — when he died in 1945.


Still, the newly created Austrian restitution panel denied Ms. Altmann’s claim. It wasn’t until 2006, after the United States Supreme Court cleared the way for Ms. Altmann, then living in California, to sue the Austrian government, that an agreement was reached. Rather than pursue a lengthy and costly trial, Ms. Altmann agreed to binding arbitration and was awarded five of six paintings that had been seized from her family.


(The painting, now in the collection of the Neue Galerie in New York, is part of a new exhibition created in conjunction with the movie. Opening on Thursday, the exhibition explores the relationship between Klimt and his patron, Ms. Bloch-Bauer.)


On the world stage, there were follow-up conferences to the Washington Principles and another agreement in 2009, but still no enforcement mechanisms. Stuart E. Eizenstat, a former special State Department envoy, who negotiated the 1998 agreement, has repeatedly complained that the hoped-for widespread restitution never occurred, because of a combination of flagging governmental pressure and a variety of legal constraints. Nations have also devoted few resources to do the painstaking provenance research that can establish ownership claims.


As recent headlines show, occasionally there is progress. Earlier this month, an El Greco seized by the Gestapo in 1938 from a Viennese industrialist was returned to his family by a dealer. And the Kunstmuseum Bern in Switzerland, which has inherited the trove of Nazi-era art found in the Munich apartment of Cornelius Gurlitt, whose father was the Nazi-era art dealer, continues to pledge to return looted works to the families of the original owners.


But restitution tends to be the exception rather than the rule. A report issued this past September by the Conference on Jewish Material Claims Against Germany and the World Jewish Restitution Organization concluded that most countries have done little to live up to international agreements. Italy came in for particular censure, followed by Hungary, Poland, Argentina, Spain and Russia. (The report, while noting that Germany had made some progress, still chastised the government for keeping its discovery of the Gurlitt stash secret.)


The German newspaper Der Spiegel also took successive regimes to task in 2013 when reporters revealed that the German government, both on its own and with various museums, ignored or actively frustrated restitution for decades. At the time, the paper called it “a moral disaster that began in the 1950s and continues to the present day.”


In France, fewer than 100 of the 2,000 unclaimed works of looted art that hang in the country’s museums have been returned. In 2013, the French culture minister defended the record, saying it was “not because of a lack of will on the part of museums,” but because of scattered records and the deaths of so many who were involved.


While some of Europe’s special restitution committees have facilitated the return of stolen art, other decisions have been questioned. In 2013, a Dutch panel, for example, ruled that despite evidence that a Jewish industrialist persecuted by the Nazis was forced to sell two old masters paintings under duress, the heirs’ interest in restitution “carries less weight” than the interests of the museums that currently own them.


Most recovery attempts result in failure. In general, the few successful claimants tend to have big bankrolls, meticulous records and an exceptional run of luck.


What aided in the return of Adele Bloch-Bauer’s portrait was its location in a federal museum, said E. Randol Schoenberg, Ms. Altmann’s lawyer. In most instances, he said, the missing works are in private hands, and the owners either don’t know where they are or have no way of compelling their return.


That is the case with a valuable trove of art, including three multimillion-dollar Canalettos, owned by Bernhard Altmann, Ms. Altmann’s brother-in-law, and forcibly auctioned off after the Nazis invaded Austria in 1938. “The fact is that artworks in private collections outside of the United States are almost impossible to recover,” Mr. Schoenberg (played by Ryan Reynolds in the film) said.


Even in the United States, several legal experts and Jewish groups complain that some American museums have failed to live up to promises to settle claims based on the merits, a charge vigorously denied by art institutions.


The Norton Simon Museum in Pasadena, for example, has spent years fighting Marei von Saher, the heir of a noted Dutch Jewish art dealer who fled after the Nazis invaded the Netherlands. She is trying to reclaim two prized paintings of Adam and Eve by Lucas Cranach the Elder. Jonathan Petropoulos, the former research director for art and cultural property for the Presidential Advisory Commission on Holocaust Assets, who provided expert testimony in Ms. Altmann’s case, has labeled the response of American museums “lamentable.”


Still, publicizing the successes, however rare, is important, Mr. Schoenberg emphasized. “Each time there’s a success, it gives people more hope, and that allows the restitution efforts to continue.”


Correction: April 1, 2015 
An article on Tuesday about the Gustav Klimt painting “Adele Bloch-Bauer I,” which was looted by the Nazis and is a subject of the new film “Woman in Gold,” about the efforts of Ms. Bloch-Bauer’s niece Maria Altmann to regain it, referred incorrectly to its sale in 2006. While Christie’s helped negotiate the sale, the painting was not auctioned. Because of an editing error, the article also misstated the opening date of an exhibition at the Neue Galerie in Manhattan that includes the painting. It is Thursday, not Wednesday.


-----------------------------------
In 2006, the art collector Ronald S. Lauder purchased Gustav Klimt’s “Adele Bloch-Bauer I” (1907) for $135 million, then the highest price paid for a painting, and made it the crown jewel of the Neue Galerie, the museum he founded in 2001. Since then other paintings have sold for considerably higher sums, adjusted for inflation, including those by Paul Cézanne and Paul Gauguin.


If some of the luster was lost from Klimt’s masterpiece as other works eclipsed its sale price, it is being renewed with the release of the movie “Woman in Gold.” It tells the tale of how Adele Bloch-Bauer’s niece, Maria Altmann (1916-2011), played by Helen Mirren, succeeded in gaining ownership of her aunt’s portrait from the Austrian government decades after it was looted by the Nazis and displayed by the Belvedere in Vienna.


The Neue Galerie’s “Gustav Klimt and Adele Bloch-Bauer: The Woman in Gold,” which opened on Thursday, a day after the film, is a small exhibition centered on “Adele Bloch-Bauer I” and conveys the biography of the painting through vintage photographs of the principal players, sketchy preparatory drawings for Adele Bloch-Bauer’s portrait and discursive text panels. The show also features seven other paintings by Klimt from private collections, including two pastoral landscapes; three small, lovely portraits of women; and “The Dancer” (1916-17), a near life-size picture of a standing woman enveloped in a floral-patterned dress. Rounding things out, an assortment of jewelry and decorative objects serves to typify the luxurious lifestyle of Adele and Ferdinand Bloch-Bauer, the art collectors who commissioned the portrait.


If you’ve never seen “Adele Bloch-Bauer I” in the flesh or would like to renew your acquaintance with it, now’s probably not a good time, especially for the agoraphobic: There will be lines. Those who brave the crowd will behold the head and bare shoulders of a woman emerging from an opulent field of patterns rendered in gold and silver leaf. Her face is blurry and has a gray pallor accentuated by her upswept black hair and slightly enlivened by pink cheeks. She gazes out with sleepy eyes, a wide, Wiener Werkstätte-style choker wrapped around her elongated neck. She wears a slinky dress covered in a horizontally banded pattern of eyes and triangles and what appears to be an open cape bearing a patchwork pattern of rectangles. A background of gold and silver circles and spirals in different sizes creates an ethereal atmosphere. Clasping clawlike hands before her, she’s a fin de siècle decadent dreamer, a Cassandra-like harbinger of events to come in the 20th century.


For all its optical dazzle and dreamy poetry, however, it’s not one of the most exciting paintings of modern times. Flattened to the point of suffocation by its decorative excess, its erotic appeal chastely muted, it has a fusty, languid feeling. Were it not for what happened to it years after its completion, the work would not be nearly so famous as it is today.


Klimt started work on the portrait in 1903 and toiled for four years, after which it remained one of the most prized possessions of the Bloch-Bauer family. Here’s where things got tricky. Before her death in 1925, Adele wrote in her final will that she wanted Ferdinand to donate her portrait, as well as a second portrait of her and four landscapes, all by Klimt, to the Austrian Gallery, the former name of the Belvedere.


After Germany’s annexation of Austria in 1938, Ferdinand fled the country, leaving behind all his properties, including his art collection. Adele’s portrait went to the Belvedere, where it remained for the rest of the 20th century. Ms. Altmann settled in California in 1942. She requested in 1998 that the Belvedere turn over to her the Klimts that were taken from the Bloch-Bauer collection, but the museum denied her based on Adele’s will. Ms. Altmann didn’t give up. In 1999 in the Central District of California, she sued the Republic of Austria and the Belvedere, seeking return of the paintings. The appeals process brought the case all the way to the United States Supreme Court, which decided in her favor in 2004. In 2006 Austria acceded to binding arbitration that gave Ms. Altmann the 1907 Adele portrait, which Mr. Lauder then purchased from her, and four other paintings that were sold at auction shortly thereafter.


Today, loaded with a history that even Klimt couldn’t have imagined, the painting hangs at the intersection of debates about art and its value, whether aesthetic, spiritual or pecuniary. That it’s been elevated to this highly visible position more because of extrinsic circumstances than for its intrinsic qualities is worth observing: It could just as well have been a different painting at the heart of the legal machinations. But it’s uncannily apt, in light of the stratospheric prices some artworks sell for these days, that the disputed object happened to be a picture of a seductive woman clothed and embedded in gold, a symbol equally of the sacred and the profane.