Tracking down the pianos looted by the Nazis from Jewish families in France

France 24

22-06-2025

In April 1945, having recently returned from Stalag II-B, a prisoner-of-war camp in Hammerstein, Germany, Benjamin Cohen learned that pianos stolen by the Nazis during the war had just been repatriated to France by the Allies.
He immediately wrote to the office responsible for the restitution of looted property:"Having just been informed that there is now a service for the restitution of pianos looted – as well as furniture owned by Jews – during the Occupation, I have the honour of informing you that, as a Frenchman and prisoner of war, my apartment was completely emptied of its furniture on June 8, 1944. My wife, who was a piano teacher, had a piano made of a dark wood, which I believe to be mahogany, made by Pfeiffer."
"I would like to add,' Cohen wrote, 'that I am awaiting the return of my wife, who was arrested on July 11, 1944. I can't imagine her coming home and not finding her piano."
The looting of apartments
This story is one of dozens that historian and archivist Caroline Piketty includes in her latest book, " Harmonies volées" (Stolen Harmonies), published by L'Archipel in May.
While Piketty was working as a member of the Mattéoli Mission, which was set up in 1997 to study the despoliation of French Jews, she came across a file on pianos stolen by German occupying forces. "I was very surprised. I knew about the looting of apartments in broad terms, but I had no idea that the restitution service had done such a great deal of work on these instruments.'
By going through the letters written in the spring of 1945 by French citizens making claims for looted property, Piketty was able to trace some of the extraordinary journeys taken by these pianos. They began being seized in the autumn of 1940 when a special commando unit, the " Sonderstab Musik", made up of eminent German musicologists, was tasked with locating instruments. From 1942 onwards, another unit responsible for plunder, "Möbel Aktion" (Furniture Action) began the systematic looting of the homes of arrested Jewish families. In France, more than 40,000 apartments were emptied of their belongings.
"Rail freight cars loaded with ordinary pianos were shipped to Germany to replace instruments in homes damaged by air raids," Piketty noted. "Valuable pianos were often kept in Paris by the Germans, in hotels they occupied, while others were transported to Berlin for high-ranking Nazi dignitaries."
A total of 8,000 pianos are believed to have been stolen. Some were taken from prominent personalities like former French Prime Minister Léon Blum, publisher Gaston Calmann-Lévy and equestrian Béatrice de Camondo, while others were stolen from ordinary citizens with a passion for music.
A vestige of the good old days
At the end of the Second World War, as the Allies advanced into German territory, some of these instruments were found. Around 2,000 of them were sent back to Paris, where they were stored in various locations, including the basement of the Palais de Tokyo and the greenhouses of the Jardin d'Acclimatation. On April 11, 1945, the leading Paris dailies published a short notice for victims of Nazi theft to come forward and reclaim their property. "It was just as the first deportees were returning,' Piketty noted, pointing out the stark contrast between deportees who were like the 'living dead' and 'the massive instruments returned to the despoiled".
For many survivors of the war, these pianos were much more than just an instrument. Maurice Boumendil, an amateur musician and former prisoner of war at Stalag X-A, said in a letter that he 'had the joy of being reunited' with his wife and daughter, deported to Bergen-Belsen, adding that his piano represented "a vestige of our happier times".
'After five years of persecution, these pianos represented a poignant memory,' said Piketty. 'They revived memories of moments when people gathered around this instrument."
In the basement of the Palais de Tokyo or at the Jardin d'Acclimatation, survivors of the Holocaust crowded in to try to recover their precious pianos. But the situation was chaotic as there were thousands of instruments to examine. Some people managed to get their hands on pianos that had retained a serial number or some other identifying mark.
In her letter, Myriam Levi wrote that she still has the key to her piano, and that she believed she left a photograph of her husband under the key lid. But it was only when she noticed her cat's scratches carved into the back of the instrument that she recognised it at the Jardin d'Acclimatation. Overjoyed, she couldn't resist immediately playing a few notes from her favourite opera, Handel's 'Alcina'.
Others managed to find a substitute keyboard. Composer Mireille Berl hunted for her ivory-lacquered Gaveau grand piano. She found one with the same number, but it was blue – no one could say if it was in fact hers.
The only trace
More than 1,300 instruments were returned to their owners in this way. For some families, the instruments were the only trace of a missing family member. Arrested in November 1943, Émile Weill never returned from Auschwitz. After the war, his daughter Marcelle was able to recover the family's Pleyel piano. Eighty years later, this relic has been preserved by Weill's descendants: "His granddaughter is thrilled to be able to play a few notes on her grandfather's piano. It's exceptional,' says Piketty. Other families who had relatives in the camps were not so lucky. Unclaimed pianos were sold by the state from 1948 onwards.
After retiring from her job at the national archives, Piketty continued to be fascinated by the story of the stolen pianos. She still sometimes helps families file claims with the commission for the restitution of property stolen during the war (CIVS).
"It's still very topical. There are still individual claims," she said. In Germany as in France, the looted pianos continue to be tracked down. Some have already told their stories, while others are waiting to return home.