Restitution (31 page)

Hana shook her head. “I don't know what to suggest,” she said. The truth was that Hana did not have the same burning desire to retrieve the art that Karl did. Even though she empathized with him and understood his longing, she had been largely indifferent upon discovering that the paintings had resurfaced in Prague. Perhaps it was because the events of the war and their family's escape from Europe had happened when Hana was still quite young. Her life had been more fully formed in Canada after their escape. Any attachment to their home in Rakovník and all of their possessions there had faded soon after arriving here. She did not share Karl's view that the paintings were a vindication of their mother's endless efforts to reclaim their property in Prague. She had been only mildly interested in her mother's attempts to retrieve the paintings years earlier. At any rate, she was at a loss as to how to help her brother.

“Your mother always talked about how wonderful it would be if the paintings could be returned to her – a restitution of sorts,” said Phyllis. Karl's wife had been relieved beyond words to have him back safely. And while she empathized with his desire to regain the paintings, Phyllis's great fear was that Karl was going to undertake another trip to Prague. His first trip there had caused Phyllis many sleepless nights. A second excursion would be her emotional undoing. And yet she knew that if her husband resolved to do something, there would be no stopping him.

“Perhaps you've not yet exhausted every legal avenue to get the paintings out.” Paul had been sitting quietly at the table watching the exchange take place, and now leaned forward to join the conversation. “Besides, you have no other choice but to follow the law.” Paul was typically a reserved and cautious man, sometimes even appearing to be distant and aloof. In reality, he was a man of complex emotional character. Like many survivors of the Holocaust, Paul was hesitant to talk about his painful survival history, and reluctant to be outspokenly Jewish in general.

Karl frowned. He was not surprised to hear his brother-in-law make this cautious statement about following the law. He shook his head emphatically. “At this point, I'm prepared to do anything to get the paintings back,” Karl declared. “I don't care what's involved. I'd beg, bribe, or steal them out of the country if I could find a way.” The four of them fell silent. It was inconceivable to Karl that there wasn't an avenue open to him, legal or otherwise. “But clearly I can't do this on my own,” he continued. “I wouldn't know the first thing about smuggling. Besides, I need someone who understands the political situation in Czechoslovakia.”

“Someone who would know how to get around all those rules,” added Phyllis.

“Exactly!” Karl replied, enthusiastically. “And preferably someone who understands fine art – how to transport something as delicate as the paintings. I'd be willing to pay for someone or some company who could do all of that.”

“But even if you were to find such a person who was willing to be paid to bypass the laws, how would we ever ensure that they were in this to help us and not only themselves?” Hana posed this question and Paul nodded emphatically.

Karl stood from the table and paced anxiously across the dining room. “There must be something…there must be someone,” he muttered, as much to himself as to the others.

“What we really need is an honest smuggler,” Phyllis said, glancing up from her seat at the table.

Karl came to an abrupt stop, “Yes!” he said, nodding excitedly, “Someone who would be willing to go into the country and get the paintings out for us – but someone we could trust would bring the paintings back to us and not just abscond with them.”

No one replied until Hana laughed softly. “If only there were such a person,” she said.

Over the next few weeks, Karl made attempts to locate such a person. He began by extending his net of contacts and speaking to everyone he knew who might have a link to the art world in Canada and abroad. Political and legal contacts were next – those who might have dealings in Czechoslovakia or other Communist countries. When he had exhausted that list, he moved on to merchants who had conducted business abroad and were used to transporting goods. His research extended into the area of looted art in Europe during the Second World War, and he discovered that the Third Reich had, not surprisingly, amassed hundreds of thousands of valuable objects, including paintings and sculptures, from occupied nations. In 1943, the United Kingdom had joined with sixteen other United Nations countries to try to stop this plundering. A declaration was announced at that time making it clear that harboring property of this sort would not be tolerated. To support this, a set of non-binding principles was being developed that would assist individuals or their heirs who had lost art to come forward, identify their property, and then work toward achieving a just and fair resolution. Of course, the situation in Czechoslovakia was further complicated by the presence of the Communist government, which Karl knew would never adhere to these western principles.

Karl's days began to follow a particular routine. He would rise early, walk the dog, and have breakfast with Phyllis. And then he would head off to do his research. He was a frequent visitor at the reference library where he poured over telephone books and newspapers from every country, trying to track down possible resources. He wrote letters to every promising contact and used the services of a small downtown Toronto company that had an answering machine and fax service available for a small fee. Step by step, Karl's list of sources began to grow. With each contact he would begin by first asking for a lawful solution to his problem of retrieving the paintings. But when that avenue failed to yield positive results, he would quickly move on to asking if anyone might know a way to work around the law.

Several leads looked promising. There was a Czech expat, whom Karl had met while purchasing a painting for his home. This man had traveled extensively, buying art at auction houses around the world. He had done a substantial amount of business in Western Europe and frequently arranged for the shipment of this art back to Canada. But after a lengthy conversation with him, Karl again realized that shipping goods of value from countries like France or Italy and trying to get art out of Czechoslovakia were two very different ventures.

Next, Karl discovered several companies that organized industrial fairs at international expositions. These companies would import and display machinery and other equipment for these trade shows. Karl wrote to each of them, setting out his situation and asking for their assistance. One by one, they responded with the same verdict:
“We won't touch this project without the Czech export stamp.”
One company even responded with a lengthy fax that gave a detailed description of the steps that foreign diplomats must comply with in order to gain permission to have personal property exported. No one was immune from the scrutiny of the Czech government, and, after several months had passed, Karl realized that he was no further ahead in his efforts to regain his property.

During all this time, Karl continued to have regular correspondence with Richard VandenBosch. In an early letter, Karl asked if Richard had any plans to return to Canada for a visit with his family, who resided outside of Guelph, Ontario. Karl hoped to be able to visit with him if he were planning such a trip. This would also make communication so much easier. In October 1989, VandenBosch responded, saying,

Dear Mr. Reeser,
I received your letter through the post on October 23. Unfortunately,
I will not be able to come to Canada until probably July next year.

I was just composing a letter to you asking whether or not you
have sorted out the problem relating to the shipment of your lovely
paintings. Should you wish to discuss it further you can contact me
by letter or telephone. I can make myself available during embassy
hours.

Yours sincerely,
Richard VandenBosch
Vice Consul

There were numerous letters exchanged between the two of them from May 1989 to March 1990. And over the course of this correspondence the relationship between Karl and Richard VandenBosch began to take on a whole new dimension. They were becoming friends – separated by continents, but linked nevertheless. Despite the continued formality of their greetings and salutations, their letters moved from reserved updates on Karl's attempts to find a way to retrieve the paintings and Richard's confirmation of these efforts, to private accounts of their lives and families. The change in tone in their letters was an unspoken acknowledgment that they had shared a personal adventure of sorts. Richard seemed to have almost as much of a stake in the paintings and their fate as Karl did. There was no doubt that he was invested in Karl and his family.

In a letter dated November 28, Richard told Karl that he and his family were planning to vacation that coming Christmas in England. He suggested that it would be lovely if Karl and Phyllis could join them. He wrote:

Just a quick note to say that I often to go Weiden, Passau, West Germany, for a quick relief from the Prague tension and I will be in England over the Christmas holidays. The embassy has my number if you require it. I would be happy to meet you around this place if you wish…

It was impossible for Karl to meet up with Richard in England. In his subsequent letter, he wrote:

Thank you for offering to meet me in England during the Christmas holidays. Aside from the fact that the time frame was just too close, I would not want to intrude at this time into what for you must be a much-needed respite from the recent tensions of Prague. I may take you up on your offer during the first half of next year, or else, wait for your anticipated visit to Canada in July…

In the letter of invitation, VandenBosch also told Karl that he had decided that, for the time being, he would hang the paintings in the embassy offices. They were so big and impressive that he thought they deserved to be displayed. Besides, he knew they would add something special to the walls of the embassy, which were quite devoid of artwork. In addition, Richard wanted to make sure that the paintings would not sustain any damage while at the embassy, and he thought that hanging them was the best way to preserve them. The painting of the children in the bathhouse was mounted on the wall of his office.
Forest Fire
was hung in the receptionist's office. The housewife gazing at the sheet music went into Robert McRae's office. The fourth painting, the Spanish dancer, was stored in an upstairs room of the embassy. Periodically, Richard would rotate the paintings so that everyone would have a chance to enjoy them. He wrote that the paintings were providing great pleasure for himself and his colleagues, though it would please him even more when he knew that the paintings were finally hanging on the walls of Karl's home in Canada.

Karl was delighted with the news that the paintings were hanging in the embassy offices.

I read with much pleasure that two of my paintings are hanging in your offices.
*
At one time, all of the paintings had beautiful, ornately carved gilded frames. If there was some way of framing these paintings while they are in your custody, I would gladly assume the cost, and then perhaps all of them could be utilized to full advantage. But I would, of course, not want the paintings to leave the safety of the embassy.

I suppose that it comes across that the turn of events relative to these paintings has great meaning for me. It started fifty years ago when my mother hid them from the Nazis. Incredibly, two generations later, an honest grandson of the original custodian has surrendered them. The fact that now, half a century later, these paintings grace the Canadian embassy, is a sort of a triumph for me: made possible by your understanding and actions taken during the few hours I spent with you last May. As this year draws to a close, I want to express my admiration and appreciation for your role. I presume that Ambassador Mawhinney and First Secretary McRae had prior knowledge in this matter, and I would like you to express to them my sentiments and greetings.

With best wishes for 1990, sincerely,
Karl Reeser

Though the many letters that passed between Karl and Richard had a warm nature, they also all alluded to the increasing tension and political unrest in Prague. Indeed, the situation in all of the Soviet Bloc countries was undergoing a dramatic change in the fall of 1989. Soviet President Mikhail Gorbachev was struggling with a faltering economy, the Iron Curtain was eroding, and countries on both sides of the divide were calling for reunification.

“It's happening all over,” Karl proclaimed one night as he sat with Phyllis drinking tea and discussing these significant world events. “If someone like Andrei Sakharov can be elected to the new parliament of the Soviet Union, then anything is possible.” Karl was referring to the dissident and Nobel laureate who had once been exiled from the country for his political views. “And look at what's happening in Czechoslovakia. Everyone thought that the student protests would end in violence, but instead of sending in the tanks, the Communists are resigning. They're even beginning to remove the barbed wire from the border with West Germany and Austria. It's being hailed as the most peaceful revolution in history.”

“Let's just wait and see,” Phyllis replied. Her voice was soft and somber. “Everyone believes that Václav Havel will become the next president, but he has his work cut out for him.” The noted playwright and dissident was being hailed as the future savior of a new democratic Czechoslovakia, but Phyllis's view remained dark. “The country has lived in a fog of lies and meaningless rhetoric for decades. Communism has ruined the nation, quite apart from the extinction of civil liberties. The spirit of the citizens has been broken, industry is a mess, and technology is archaic. And then there's the history of harassment. The secret police aren't going to disappear just because the government has a new name.”