Collector Had Change of Heart on Works Stolen From Jews, Wanted Other Pieces to Leave Germany
Cornelius Gurlitt, 81 years old and his heart faltering, called a notary to his Bavarian hospital bed in early January, determined to write a last will and testament inspired by love and hate.
Mr. Gurlitt—stung by the local government’s seizure of the cache of priceless art that he called his life’s only love and by the world-wide furor over the fact that much of it was snatched from Jews by the Nazis—had two desires: to burnish his family name by giving the trove to a museum and to send it out of Germany.
Only two months earlier, after a German magazine had exposed his secret collection, Mr. Gurlitt had vowed never to return any of the paintings.
But the secret will he signed in the Ludwigsburg, Germany, hospital was his first step toward an agreement with German officials ensuring the looted works could go back to their rightful owners.
Cornelius Gurlitt for decades hid a collection of modern European masterpieces. Zuma Press
The story of the art collector’s change of heart is filled with legal maneuvering, delicate negotiations and personal appeals to Mr. Gurlitt by German government officials urging him to let go of art he so loved. His about-face culminated in frenzied and fragile negotiations between his lawyers and the government that climaxed just before his death last week.
Mr. Gurlitt’s decision, people close to him say, reflected in part his alienation from his country and anger at the Bavarian officials who confiscated his collection. At first, he “felt like a victim of Bavaria,” a person close to the collector says. But, as he began “growing paler by the day, he wanted to keep his father’s name from being tarnished and give back the Jewish art.”
Mr. Gurlitt’s story made global headlines in November, when the German magazine Focus reported that prosecutors in Augsburg had in 2012 secretly discovered about 1,400 valuable works in his apartment, including Nazi loot. In the final days of World War II, his father, art dealer Hildebrand Gurlitt, had loaded his family and those artworks into a truck to flee Allied bombing, ending up at a baron’s castle in Bavaria.
The roller-coaster quest to get late collector Cornelius Gurlitt to give back the Nazi-looted pieces in his trove nearly hit a wall until the ailing octogenarian had a fateful change of heart. Timeline
After the Focus report, Germany faced intense pressure from the U.S., Israel and others to return the looted works to their rightful owners. But in Mr. Gurlitt, Germany faced a difficult negotiating partner. His health was rapidly deteriorating. He was under no legal obligation to cooperate. And his legal team at times splintered into camps, making it tough to negotiate.
A Wall Street Journal examination of the dealings over Mr. Gurlitt’s collection—based on unreleased documents and on interviews with politicians, officials close to the case and a small group that assisted the collector—provides an inside look at his last months and how close Germany’s deal came to collapsing before he died.
The government deal, involving Bavarian and national agencies, happened partly because of Mr. Gurlitt’s hope he would see the art again before his death—a wish that went unfulfilled.
Mr. Gurlitt had spent his later years living a hermit’s life in a fifth-floor apartment in Munich’s gentrified Schwabing district, tending to artworks he inherited from his father, one of Adolf Hitler’s art dealers.
Mr. Gurlitt had few outside contacts after his mother’s death, his days punctuated by strolls to the grocery store and afternoon coffee at the Palate Game, a cafe with a Queen Elizabeth II bobblehead doll in the window. His only extravagance seemed limited to trying different cakes, says Alexander Vesely, the proprietor.
The incident that ended his tranquil existence occurred Sept. 22, 2010. On the EC197 train from Zurich to Munich, customs officials searched Mr. Gurlitt and found €9,000—below the limit requiring a declaration but enough to raise tax-evasion suspicions. Prosecutors in Augsburg, Bavaria’s third-largest city, ordered a search of Mr. Gurlitt’s home on Feb. 28, 2012.