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May 11, 2026

The Power of Disclosure: One Family Reckons with Its Wartime Past as Goudstikker's Portrait of a Young Girl by Dutch artist Toon Kelder is Relinquished

Dutch crime journalist John van den Heuvel, long known in the Netherlands for his reporting on organised crime and high-profile criminal investigations, has now become linked to the discreet return later today of a Nazi-looted artwork we wrote about this morning.  The painting had been hidden for decades with a descendant of a World War II wartime collaborator, first disclosed by Private Investigator Arthur Brand.

The painting, Portrait of a Young Girl by Dutch artist Toon Kelder, looted by Nazis from the famous Goudstikker collection, has been handed over today to Telegraaf journalist John van den Heuvel by a descendant of the notorious Dutch SS lieutenant general and NSB figurehead Hendrik Alexander Seyffardt, one of the Netherlands’ most prominent wartime collaborators.  The painting had originally belonged to prominent Jewish art dealer Jacques Goudstikker before being displaced during the Nazi occupation of the Netherlands.

As mentioned in ARCA's blog post early this morning, this painting resurfaced after descendants connected to Hendrik Alexander Seyffardt, the Dutch general who collaborated with Nazi Germany during the Second World War, began confronting difficult aspects of their family history.  Private investigator Arthur Brand was ultimately contacted regarding the painting’s origins and the family's wartime connection. Van den Heuvel reportedly assisted in bringing public attention to the case, helping frame the discovery not simply as a story of hidden art, but as part of the Netherlands’ continuing reckoning with unresolved wartime dispossession.

More than eighty years after the war, the rediscovery of this Kelder portrait demonstrates that the legacy of Nazi cultural theft still persists not only in archives and courtrooms, but inside ordinary homes where displaced objects continue to carry histories their current holders may only now be beginning to understand.


Inherited Silence: Another Nazi Looted Painting "Portrait of a Young Girl,” by Dutch artist Toon Kelder Found in Private Hands.

Identified Goudstikker portrait and a photo of a volunteer of the Dutch SS taking an oath in the presence of an officer. In the background, high-ranking German (Hanns Albin Rauter) and Dutch officers (Hendrik Seyffardt) stand in the stands.

For decades, a small portrait hung quietly inside a Dutch family home, largely unnoticed except by those privy to pass by it where it was hung in a hallway. Now, Portrait of a Young Girl by Dutch artist Toon Kelder (1894-1973) has emerged as the latest chapter in the long and still unfinished history of artworks looted by the Nazis which were part of the inventory of Jewish persecuted art dealer Jacques Goudstikker a Dutch dealer discussed frequently on this blog. 

The painting’s rediscovery was made public this morning by Dutch private investigator Arthur Brand, whose investigations into missing and looted artworks have often drawn international press attention. During our phone call with him, last week Brand stated that a family member had approached him after learning two deeply unsettling pieces of family history: first, that he was descended from Hendrik Alexander Seyffardt, one of the Netherlands’ most prominent wartime collaborators, and second, that a Nazi-looted painting had apparently been hanging inside the home of one of Seyffardt's heirs for many years.

In the German-occupied Netherlands, SS Freiwilligen-Panzergrenadier-Regiment General Seyffardt was the leader of the collaborationist Netherlands Volunteer Legion, later redesignated the SS Volunteer Legion Niederlande under General Seyffardt.  Known for his strong anti-communist and pro-German sentiments, he was killed following the second of two assassination attempts, the last occurring at his home at Van Neckstraat 36 on 5 February 1943 by Gerrit Willem Kastein and Jan Verleunm resistance fighters with the group CS-6, named for a street number on Corellistraat in Amsterdam.  Shortly before his death the following day, Seyffardt stated that the perpetrators were likely students and as a result, on 6 February 1943, the Germans conducted a raid in Delft, during which over two hundred students were arrested and 45 Dutch nationals were killed in direct connection with his targeting.

Such was Seyffardt's importance that his funeral was held at the Binnenhof in The Hague, complete with a wreath from Adolf Hitler.  Attended by Anton Mussert, leader of the Dutch Nationaal Socialistische Beweging (NSB), and Nazi politician and later convicted war criminal Reich Commissioner Arthur Seyss-Inquart, it was the latter who laid Hitler's wreath on their comrade's coffin.  After General Christiansen, Commander of the Wehrmacht, laid a second wreath following a final salute with Hanns Albin Rauter, the Höhere SS- und Polizeiführer and General Commissioner for safety in the Netherlands who read a passage from a letter by Heinrich Himmler before his body was cremated at Velsen.


How Hendrik Seyffardt obtained the plundered Toon Kelder's portrait remains to be explored, as does why his heirs elected to keep the painting a family secret rathr than address its origins. What is known is that one family member had an attack of conscience and aware of the painting's dark history, chose not to ignore its tainted origins. 

Cases such as this illustrate a recurring pattern within the restitution field. Individuals who discover that they or someone they know possesses a potentially stolen artwork sometimes turn to intermediaries like Brand, often because they are in an awkward or uncomfortable association with the holder and sometimes because they are uncertain how to proceed.  Fearful of legal consequences, or simply frustrated by the moral implications of what they know, it becomes a question of what next steps should be taken, especially because in many situations, the statute of limitations has expired or the current holders are not themselves implicated in the original theft, but have inherited objects burdened with dark histories, particularly when the painting in question may be tied to Nazi-era looting or organized crime.

In these situations, private investigators specializing in art crime occupy a unique position. Well known from his appearances in press articles related to other recoveries, PIs like Brand are sometimes privy to the earliest of reportings, acting as facilitators between relatives, possessors, claimants, lawyers, museums, insurers, and law enforcement authorities.  

Following up on his informant's lead, Brand identified an entry from the collection of the deceased Jacques Goudstikker which was auctioned at Frederik Muller's (1902–1943) auction house in Amsterdam in 1940.  


Alois Miedl, who took over the Goudstikker's art gallery when its owner fled, consigned Goudstikker's works for auction to Muller's auction house on 8 and 9 October 1940, an event which contained dozens of lots, including a written entry on what seems to be this portrait painting by Toon Kelder, listed as LOT 92.  

Correspondence from the art dealership "Frederik Muller en Co" covering the years from 1902 to 1943 is held by the "RKD Netherlands – Institute For Art History in Amsterdam

Likewise, a look at the verso of paintings sometimes can provide further clues as to ownership and circulation.  The backs of paintings sometime include exhibition labels, stamps, seals, and brands such as the marking from dealers, shippers and auction houses.  On a photo provided to Brand and shared with ARCA there is a chalk entry on this painting's verso, which depicts the number 92.  This corresponds with the Lot number in the Frederik Muller catalogue. 


As in other occupied countries with established art markets, such as France and Belgium, the invasion of the Netherlands by Germany in May 1940 triggered a vertiginous boom in the Dutch art market. One sticker on the reverse side of this painting securely assigns it to the collection of Jacques Goudstikker’s gallery. 

Depending on the time at which the work was included in Goudstikker’s collection, the labels are different, with a total of five different printed labels attributed to this dealer.  On these, the inventory number was usually handwritten on the label and in some cases, the name of the artist might also be noted. 

The earliest labels related to this Jewish dealer's collection can be found on works with low inventory numbers and identify the dealer's gallery located at Kalverstraat 73, like this label depicted below.

 Second Gallery Label, Kalverstraat 73, rectangular version, ca.
5 x 12 cm with revision sticker "40"

After the Goudstikker gallery's relocation to Heerengracht 458, the labels on his artworks changed,  although the design remained basically the same. 

Goudstikker Gallery Label, Heerengracht 458
rectangular version, ca. 5 x 11,5 cm

On many paintings, there are further stickers on the back, which further allow us to attribute plundered paintings to the Goudstikker gallery, one of which is the smaller rectangular revision sticker, framed by two blue lines with rounded corners, 

These frequently found stickers likely dates to the time of the revision of the gallery stock in 1940.  It is a toothed standard label with a blue double frame with rounded corners, like the one seen beside the dealer's label on the Kelder painting.

Brand thinks that after Seyffardt’s assassination, this painting likely passed to his son, Hendrik Seyffardt Jr., who was sentenced after World War II to eight years in prison for his collaboration with the Germans.  According to his reconstruction, the work may have subsequently remained with Seyffardt Jr.’s former wife following their divorce in 1944, before it eventually passed by inheritance to her daughter, in whose home the painting reportedly hangs. 

The trajectory of this artwork illustrates how unresolved Nazi-looted art remains woven into ordinary domestic spaces. And while many wartime looting cases involve masterpieces hanging in major museums, countless more displaced works continue to reside secretly and quietly in private hands, their histories unspoken by subsequent generations and leaving it to descendants to confront histories they themselves played no role in creating.

This article is not intended as an effort to expose or target Seyffardt’s descendants, whose identities can be reconstructed through a little bit of analysis work.  Rather, it serves to illustrate a broader and more uncomfortable reality within restitution law: national legal frameworks do not always ensure that looted artworks are returned to the heirs of their original owners. 

In the Netherlands, as in several jurisdictions, statutes of limitation and doctrines surrounding good-faith possession can complicate or even prevent legal seizure, despite strong historical evidence of wartime dispossession.  As a result, the return of this painting may ultimately depend less on legal compulsion than on the willingness of its present holder to confront the object’s troubling history and voluntarily relinquish it to the Goudstikker heirs.

By:  Lynda Albertson





May 1, 2026

Chinese Porcelain Theft at Princessehof: A Suspect Arrested After Three Years


More than three years after a dramatic break-in at the Keramiekmuseum Princessehof, Dutch authorities have brought a suspect before the courts, marking a significant development in a case that initially seemed unlikely to reach resolution. The suspect, Tyrese H., is a 22-year-old man from Almere, who is alleged to have been part of a small group responsible for the February 2023 burglary, in which a number of rare Chinese ceramic objects were targeted in a highly specific and unusually destructive theft. 

The suspect was already serving an eight-year prison sentence handed down in connection with his role in the robbery and fatal stabbing death of 29-year-old party organizer, Lorenz Schaasberg, in Vinkeveen in December 2023.  In the museum case, the Public Prosecution Service cites burglary, theft, and the dumping of license plates as charges, but releases few further details.

The arrest comes as something of a surprise, as many had largely assumed the investigation had stalled, given the passage of time and the lack of earlier breakthroughs. The renewed movement in the case reflects the often slow and complex nature of art crime investigations, where forensic evidence, witness testimony, and investigative leads can take years to coalesce into prosecutable cases.

The original theft at the 109-year museum occurred in the early hours of 13 February 2023 and followed on an earlier unsuccessful attempt on Wednesday, the first of February.  Back then, intruders gained access to the museum by climbing a drainpipe and entering through a smashed window near the museum's roof, demonstrating both planning and familiarity with the building. Once inside, they moved quickly to the first floor featuring Chinese ceramics and removed eleven objects from display.  Of note, though valuable, these were not the highest valued objects on display in the museum's collection.

What distinguishes this burglary from many others is what happened next. As the alarm sounded and the perpetrators fled, seven of the stolen objects were either horrifically dropped while the culprit(s) made their getaway or deliberately smashed in the street just outside the museum. Witnesses later described the surrounding area as covered in shards. Some of the ceramics were so badly damaged that restoration proved impossible, effectively transforming theft into irreversible destruction.

At the time, investigators and museum officials were struck by its apparent selectivity of the operation. The objects had been taken quickly from a specific installation within an exhibition, suggesting that the perpetrators had prior knowledge of the display and location within the museum. There had also been a failed break-in attempt 12 days earlier. 

Four of the stolen ceramics remain missing to this day and are pictured here.  Unlike paintings or widely recognisable antiquities, high-end ceramics occupy a narrower market, particularly when they are well documented and publicly exhibited. Early speculation suggested that the theft may not have been motivated by resale in the conventional art market. Instead, the possibility of a targeted commission or non-commercial motive was raised, reflecting the limited avenues through which such objects can be discreetly circulated.

The recent court appearance of the suspect sheds further light on how the burglary was carried out. Prosecutors allege that the accused was part of a group of three individuals involved in the operation. The method of entry, the rapid removal of objects, and the chaotic exit all align with what might be described as a short-duration, high-risk intrusion, a pattern seen in a number of museum thefts where perpetrators seek to minimise time on site.

Yet, the aftermath complicates any straightforward reading of the crime. The destruction of the majority of the stolen objects raises questions about intent. Whether the breakage was accidental, the result of haste, or indicative of a lack of familiarity with handling fragile objects or in highly timed burglaries. Even in cases where stolen objects are later recovered, their evidentiary and cultural value can be significantly diminished if their physical integrity has been compromised.

The Princessehof itself occupies a distinctive place within the Dutch museum landscape. Housed in an eighteenth-century palace and known for its extensive collection of Asian and European ceramics, it is the only national museum of ceramics in the northern Netherlands. The objects targeted in 2023 were part of a temporary exhibition exploring themes of celebration, making their removal not only a loss of individual artefacts but also a disruption to a curated narrative.

The case also highlights the broader challenges faced by museums exhibiting portable and fragile works. Asian Ceramics, while culturally significant, are becoming a known target and are physically vulnerable and often easier to transport than larger or more structurally robust objects. At the same time, their niche market can limit opportunities for resale, creating a paradox in which objects are both attractive targets and difficult to monetize.

As the legal proceedings begin, their focus will likely shift toward establishing the extent of the suspect’s involvement and the role of the two accomplices. For investigators, the case represents both a resolution and a reminder. While the arrest demonstrates persistence in pursuing leads over time, the fate of the remaining missing objects underscores the limits of recovery once objects have been removed and dispersed.