Klimt, Matsch, and a Ghanaian Prince in turn-of-the-century Vienna

Twin portraits illuminate the friendship and break-up between the painters

By Léa Nedwed

Pablo Picasso, Giorgio de Chirico, Pierre Soulages, Richard Serra—these illustrious names in the history of art draw visitors to Luxembourg's Nationalmusée um Fëschmaart. Yet, alongside these masters, the museum also showcases long-forgotten artists who are equally deserving of our attention.

 

Ruud Priem, the museum's Head of Department and Curator of Fine Arts, recently oversaw the acquisition of a striking portrait. With a decade at Amsterdam's Rijksmuseum and collaborations worldwide, Priem has engaged deeply with celebrated masterpieces while demonstrating a discerning eye for overlooked treasures.

A mysterious portrait

The newly acquired painting is presented in its (presumably) original, beautifully crafted bamboo frame. From the corners of the frame protrude four tubers–the roots of the bamboo–enhancing its exotic allure. Its quasi-photographic quality and frontal, naturalistic depiction of a black man in bust form make it challenging to date at first glance. The painting appears academic with its polished finish and the model’s classical pose, yet it diverges from tradition through its unconventional choice of subject.

 

A black figure wears a piece of cloth in a toga-like fashion, draped over his left shoulder and leaving the right one bare. Set against a simple clay-green background, he lacks contextual markers. The museum acquired it at a 2021 Sotheby's auction, simply as “Portrait of an African Man”. Its author, Austrian painter Franz von Matsch (1861-1942), was active in Vienna from the late 19th to the mid-20th century. Reflecting an era when Black representation in European art expanded alongside migration from Africa and Haiti, such works broke away from prevailing stereotypes. However, the context in which this portrait was created unveils more complex realities. While interpreting the artist’s perspective solely through the painting proves challenging, it nevertheless offers profound insights into anthropology and social relations in modern Europe.

Matsch and Klimt: partners in art

In the 1870s, Franz von Matsch trained alongside Gustav Klimt and his brother Ernst at Vienna's School of Applied Arts, all steeped in conservative academic traditions. After their studies, in 1883, the trio collaborated on public commissions until Gustav Klimt distanced himself from the traditional painting style. Favouring artistic innovation, Klimt's art underwent a major shift in 1895, and two years later, he co-founded the Vienna Secession, one of the most avant-garde movements of the time.

 

Despite their diverging paths, Klimt and Matsch appear to have maintained a close relationship, as evidenced by their joint portrayal of the man in a toga. This enigmatic sitter is also the subject of one of Klimt's paintings, which depicts him in three-quarter view. The portrait itself is shrouded in mystery, having last been seen in public at a 1928 retrospective marking the 10th anniversary of Klimt's death. A black-and-white photograph from a 1923 auction catalogue is the only visual trace of the painting that exists today.

Priem highlights these portraits as testaments not only to artistic camaraderie but also to the rift that possibly fractured the painters’ bond—a bullet hole in Matsch's work mirrors a dagger gash in Klimt's. An eye for an eye...

Investigating identity

In a 2012 publication, art historian Tobias Natter questioned the dating and subject of Klimt’s portrait. Natter speculated that it might depict an African sculpture Klimt admired at Brussels’ Musée du Congo in 1914. Enter Alfred Weidinger, Vienna’s Belvedere Museum’s former vice-president, who established the link between Klimt’s and Matsch’s portraits to around 1897. This was not only the year when Klimt began incorporating flowers into the backgrounds of his works, but also the year a group of Ga people from Ghana were “hired” to “perform” in Vienna’s “Tiergarten” (German for “zoo”).

During the late 19th century, “human zoos” sprang up across Europe, fuelling a fascination with the exotic at the height of colonial rule, explains Charline Zeitoun, science journalist and deputy editor-in-chief at CNRS. German wild animal importer Carl Hagenberg, known as the “King of the Zoos”, also popularised “ethnic shows”. Inuits, Nubians, Dahomeans, Amerindians, Koreans and other peoples were exhibited in reconstructed villages and asked to perform dances, wear imaginary costumes and even embody cannibalistic and brutal personas. This dehumanising industry aimed to attract an ever-growing audience while trying to legitimise the colonial and civilising enterprise. Such stagings were a resounding success with a Western public that could be described as voyeuristic, fascinated by the unusual and the exotic. “More than a billion visitors are said to have flocked to see this type of exhibition between 1870 and 1940” (“Plus d’un milliard de visiteurs se seraient pressés pour voir ce type d’exhibitions entre 1870 et 1940”), states Zeitoun.

Breaking with artistic conventions

Returning to Weidinger, he, along with one of the Belvedere’s Curators Markus Fellinger, identified the figure in both portraits as William Nii Nortey Dowuona, the leader of the Ga people from Osu in Ghana. Dowuona came to Vienna’s “Tiergarten” to perform with a group of 70 warriors and about 50 women and children, all for a modest fee. At the time, the world of show business provided a fertile ground for artists seeking life models that were both affordable and challenged academic conventions. In the catalogue accompanying the 2019 exhibition “Le modèle noir, de Géricault à Matisse” at the Musée d’Orsay in Paris, Estelle Béhué and Isolde Pludermacher note that for 19th-century artists, depicting a Black model marked a significant departure from the beauty standards of the time, which were anchored in the facial features and whiteness of Greek statues.

 

Matsch’s portrayal sharply contrasts with long-prevailing depictions of young African men and women in orientalist attire or as domestic pages, emphasising the absolute domination and prosperity of their masters. Instead, the man here is neither a mere decorative motif nor a stereotype; he is presented in a dignified and attentive portrait. As the Orsay exhibition catalogue highlights, artists of this era played a key role in challenging racist and colonial ideologies.

The Ghanaian Prince awaits his twin portrait

While most black models from this period remain nameless, William Nii Nortey Dowuona’s identity is now memorialised at the Nationalmusée um Fëschmaart. He was Prince of the Ga people from Osu in the Grand Accra region of Ghana, West Africa. Priem hopes to one day reunite this portrait with Klimt’s missing piece, should it still exist and resurface. The twin portraits not only share the same subject but also the same palette, with “the two painters having used the exact same colours”, Priem further explains. Their reunion, if it ever happens, would certainly add an exciting chapter to this story and perhaps unveil further details.

Exceptionally, the travel diaries of these Ghanaian "actors" have survived and, along with the two portraits, will be the focus of an Austrian documentary set for release in 2025, states the Nationalmusée’s Curator. This might allow the model to shift from being an observed subject to becoming an observer, providing us with a most interesting testimony.


About the author

Léa Nedwed

Managing Editor

Léa is a managing editor at ArtExplored, where she produces in-depth art market reports and educational content.    Her prior experience includes working with an art advisory servi...

View more