Degas' Dust. Carnie Matisonn
father merely shrugged and shook his head. “I find it easy to write articles on sport for Fight magazine and humorous stories for Gek,” he replied. (He wrote these articles on a freelance basis.) But I struggle to write about those troubled times.”
“So let’s talk about it and see where it goes,” Raymond told him. “If there is a part for me to act in, I am sure I could find a sponsor.”
My father smiled – Raymond’s enthusiasm was always infectious.
“You are only one generation away from the ghetto,” Raymond pressed on, “and you were close to your mother, who must have told you stories about her experiences in the slums, the pogroms, the persecutions – the kinds of things that will force people to listen, and consider and remember.”
Natie appeared to mull over this for a while. “Actually, the most intriguing story was told to me by my father,” he said.
“But your father was brought up in Norway,” Raymond began, but Natie stopped him.
“The Jewish community in Norway may have been very small compared with those in Germany, France and Eastern Europe, but that didn’t mean their suffering at the hands of the Nazis was any less vicious,” my father explained.
He told us most of what he knew about Karnielsohn. I was transfixed by the story of his fascinating friendship with the artist Edgar Degas – who eventually let him down. Though I was young when I heard these stories, nothing about them has left me and the little I know about my granduncle is based largely on what I heard Natie telling Raymond and how this might be the basis for something they could work on together: a book, play or even an attempt to produce a movie.
Karnielsohn’s interest in art had had much to do with his background. He was born in Germany and later emigrated to Norway. He spoke fluent German, French and Norwegian and completed enough schooling in German to become acquainted with the arts and culture in neighbouring countries. His parents were well-off enough to allow the young Karnielsohn to travel to Austria, France, Belgium and Holland.
He was known as an academic and introvert, more stimulated by the origins of legal systems and the study of jurisprudence than by actively participating in litigation. His study in Oslo was lined with textbooks, statutes and precedents, which aided his reputation in providing well-documented opinions on complex matters of private international law. Unlike public international law, which deals with the conduct of sovereign states, intergovernmental organisations and multinational corporations in respect of global matters, private international law is the study of the conflict of laws between different countries and their companies.
Karnielsohn, for instance, would be briefed by a Norwegian company that had purchased goods from a German manufacturer for delivery to a company in France. If a dispute arose in respect of a breach by any one of the parties, it was my great-uncle’s function to provide an opinion of some sort and follow it up with a plan to resolve the dispute, taking cognisance of the conflicting laws in different countries. Because of this, he travelled frequently throughout Europe. His knowledge of German and French proved useful, if not critical, in helping him establish a reputation as a legal mind and negotiator well suited to these tasks.
In Paris, Karnielsohn usually took a hotel within walking distance of the Seine and the famous Palace Garnier opera house, which allowed him to be near the Place Vendôme, a public square. The Opera Metro Station made the Louvre Museum accessible and he was also within easy walking distance of the Galleries Lafayette department store.
He tried to arrange his visits to Paris to coincide with the nearest weekend so that he would be free to visit the many artists working along the Seine. Here he became mesmerised by the work of Claude Monet and his renditions of the many scenes along the river. Karnielsohn made meticulous notes about various artists during their formative years. He wrote about a Renoir that was purchased for seven dollars. He admired many of the lesser-known Impressionists, with whom he formed loose friendships.
Karnielsohn first met Degas when he bought a painting from him.
Under pressure from his father, Degas had begun his studies as a law student but soon dropped out and graduated instead with a bachelor’s degree in literature. He then registered as a copyist in the Louvre. He went on to study at the École des Beaux-Arts, possibly France’s most famous fine arts school, and finally caught the attention of his tutors.
Naples was his next destination, where Degas spent time studying and copying works by Michelangelo and other Renaissance artists. He returned to Paris in 1865. After the end of the Franco-Prussian War in 1872, the artist travelled to New Orleans, Louisiana, in the United States, where he had a brother, René. After their father died in 1874, Degas discovered his brother had amassed considerable business debt. He took it upon himself to sell the family house and art collection to cover his brother’s debts, and suddenly realised how reliant he was on income from the sales of his own works. So he produced paintings prolifically over the next ten years.
My great-uncle immediately liked this artist, who was so well versed in both French and German literature and apparently knew something about legislation in both countries. During this time, Degas also became an avid photographer. He exhibited his art with the Impressionists – despite his dislike of the term, which he considered populist.
In the 1880s, Karnielsohn commissioned Degas to do a portrait of him working at his desk in Oslo, projecting him in a manner that embodied the life he was leading.
At first, Karnielsohn had been fascinated by Degas’ skill and reputation, but his relationship with the artist eventually faced difficulty. He wrote that Degas had not correctly fulfilled his mandate, as he had chosen to depict Karnielsohn only as a professional man surrounded by legal textbooks, which my granduncle felt ignored his depth of character and own artistic interests. It is recorded somewhere that they argued, during which Degas’ anti-Semitic leanings came to the fore. Karnielsohn was shocked and disappointed.
He paid Degas for the portrait, but could not find any satisfaction in it. They never saw each other again.
Degas’ anti-Semitism became more apparent in the years that followed. By the early 1900s, he had terminated all relations with his Jewish friends and refused to use models he suspected were Jewish. He became an outspoken anti-Semite, choosing to depict the facial features of Jews in the ways one typically finds in cruel caricatures.
Karnielsohn, still following the artist’s career, was particularly disturbed by this turn and chose not to hang the portrait any more. He placed it behind a cabinet in a little-used room in his house, so as not to be reminded of his error in judgement.
And that was where the Nazis who killed Karnielsohn found it many years later.
* * *
My father toyed with the idea of dramatising his uncle’s life for some time.
On some Sundays, Natie would visit Hank Margolis, an American journalist (whose wife made mouthwatering fresh bread rolls and coffee, finished with a topping of cream I spent days dreaming about). I was there when Natie put his idea to Hank about collaborating with Raymond on the story of Karnielsohn.
“I think there is substance to the story you have told me,” said Hank, “but perhaps not enough to write an entire play. I also have some concern about whether you and Raymond could work together on writing and producing it. You are good friends but are both strong personalities. I believe you would clash.”
They left it at that and returned to the subject of the cartoons they wanted Abe Berry to draw for the next edition of Gek magazine.
For a few months after, Raymond and Natie still alluded to the idea of elaborating on the life of Karnielsohn, exploring whether they had access to material that might provide a setting for the story, but their enthusiasm seemed to have faded. It was also emotionally challenging for Natie to try to tease out details. In one discussion, my father mentioned a letter his father had received from Karnielsohn, to which Raymond replied: “Natie, this is not a court case that needs proof. The reality of the circumstances in which he died and the way in which he lived are enough to get the attention of the audience. We have to concentrate