Today : Sep 04, 2025
World News
04 September 2025

Nazi Looted Painting Recovered In Argentina After 80 Years

A chance discovery in a real estate listing led authorities to recover a Nazi-stolen masterpiece and uncover more suspected looted art as Argentina confronts its postwar past.

In a story as dramatic as any thriller, Argentine authorities have announced the recovery of a painting stolen by the Nazis nearly 80 years ago, following a whirlwind of international intrigue, covert raids, and a chance discovery in a real estate listing. The painting in question, a portrait of Contessa Colleoni by Italian artist Giuseppe Ghislandi, had vanished without a trace since World War II, only to reappear in the most unlikely of places—on the wall of a house in Mar del Plata, Argentina, featured in an online property advertisement.

According to Reuters, the saga began in earnest when Dutch journalists from Algemeen Dagblad spotted the portrait, also known as 'Portrait of a Lady,' while scouring the internet for Nazi-looted art from the Netherlands. The painting’s image, hanging above a green velvet sofa, triggered alarms in international art recovery circles. It wasn’t just any lost artwork: this painting had been listed for decades in international and Dutch databases devoted to tracking down works stolen by the Nazis. It was among more than 1,000 pieces plundered from the renowned Dutch-Jewish art dealer Jacques Goudstikker, who died in 1940 while fleeing Nazi persecution.

As reported by Reuters and the Daily Mail, the house where the painting was found belonged to Patricia Kadgien, daughter of Friedrich Kadgien—a senior Nazi official and financial adviser to Hermann Göring, Hitler’s notorious right-hand man and a voracious collector of stolen art. Friedrich Kadgien, described by American interrogators as a "snake of the lowest sort," managed to flee Europe after the war, settling in Argentina where he died in Buenos Aires in the late 1970s.

The discovery of the painting in a real estate photo set off a flurry of activity. On Tuesday, September 2, 2025, acting on an Interpol alert, Argentine police raided Kadgien’s Mar del Plata residence with a search warrant. But when they arrived, the prized portrait was gone. Instead, a large pastoral tapestry depicting horses hung in its place. Investigators noted telltale signs—a hook and fresh marks on the wall—suggesting the painting had been removed recently, likely in anticipation of the raid.

Patricia Kadgien and her husband, Juan Carlos Cortegoso, were placed under house arrest for 72 hours starting Monday, September 1, 2025, accused of obstructing the investigation. The local federal prosecutor’s office indicated that the couple would be questioned regarding their role in hiding the artwork. Carlos Martínez, the prosecutor leading the case, told The Associated Press, “We have accused the couple of obstructing the investigation and ordered their detention at home for at least 72 hours pending a hearing.”

But the search didn’t stop there. Prosecutors, determined to recover the missing masterpiece, expanded their efforts to include raids on the homes of Kadgien’s relatives. In the process, they unearthed two paintings from the 19th century and a collection of drawings and engravings, also from the same period. Authorities stated these additional pieces would be analyzed to determine if they too were part of the vast trove of art looted by the Nazis during World War II.

While the painting’s sudden disappearance from the Kadgien residence initially seemed like a setback, officials later confirmed its recovery. An official from the local prosecutor’s office in Mar del Plata assured the public that Argentina’s federal prosecutor would soon reveal further details about how the artwork was retrieved. The case, however, has underscored the enduring complexity and pain of restitution efforts, as the fate of countless stolen treasures remains unresolved across the globe.

For many, the story of the portrait is inseparable from that of its original owner, Jacques Goudstikker. Goudstikker was not just a successful Amsterdam art dealer; he was also a man who, during the Nazi occupation, helped his fellow Jews escape persecution. Tragically, he died at sea in 1940 while attempting to flee to Britain. His collection, including the Ghislandi portrait, was seized by Nazi officials—most notably Göring—through forced sales and outright theft from Jewish-owned galleries.

The return of the painting to public attention has reignited debate about Argentina’s role as a postwar haven for Nazi officials and collaborators. As detailed by the Daily Mail, under the government of General Juan Perón, Argentina became a refuge for scores of fugitive Nazis, including high-ranking party members and architects of the Holocaust such as Adolf Eichmann. These individuals often brought with them ill-gotten gains: gold, bank deposits, sculptures, and, as this case demonstrates, priceless works of art.

The Kadgien family’s involvement in the saga is emblematic of the tangled legacy left behind by these migrations. While Friedrich Kadgien was never charged with crimes relating to his Nazi activities, his daughter Patricia and her husband now find themselves at the center of a legal storm. The defense team representing the Kadgien family reportedly offered to hand over the painting, though as of early September 2025, officials said this had not yet taken place.

The international dimension of the hunt for Nazi-looted art is critical. The painting’s reappearance came only after Dutch journalists, scouring property listings for clues to missing artwork, recognized its significance and alerted authorities. Interpol’s involvement and the swift action by Argentine police highlight how cross-border cooperation remains essential in the ongoing quest for justice and restitution.

For Argentine officials, the case is a reminder that the country’s shadowy postwar history continues to cast a long shadow. The recovery of the Ghislandi portrait is, in some ways, a symbolic victory—a testament to the persistence of investigators, journalists, and advocates who refuse to let these stories fade into obscurity. Yet it also points to the unfinished business of restitution: the other paintings and engravings found during the raids are now under scrutiny, and questions linger about how many more stolen treasures remain hidden in private collections across Argentina and the world.

As the federal prosecutor prepares to release further details, the art world and families of Holocaust victims alike are watching closely. The journey of the portrait of Contessa Colleoni—from Amsterdam to Nazi hands, across the Atlantic to Argentina, and finally back into the light—serves as both a cautionary tale and a beacon of hope for those still seeking justice after decades of silence.

The story of this recovered painting is far from over. As new evidence emerges and the legal process unfolds, it stands as a powerful reminder that the past, no matter how deeply buried, has a way of resurfacing—sometimes in the most unexpected places.