https://doi.org/10.1177/1750698017741929
Memory Studies
2020, Vol. 13(1) 107­–123
© The Author(s) 2017
Article reuse guidelines:
sagepub.com/journals-permissions
DOI: 10.1177/1750698017741929
journals.sagepub.com/home/mss
“Call the witness”: Romani
Holocaust related art in Austria
and Marika Schmiedt’s will to
memory
Maria Alina Asavei
Institute of International Studies , Charles University, Czech Republic
Abstract
Both academic and popular culture discourses are inhabited by statements that “pathologize” the
ways Roma remember the Holocaust and other traumatic events. Against these claims, this article’s
main aim is to explore contemporary artistic production from Austria which fosters “Roma will to
memory” within an assemblage of political practices and discourses. To this end, I will explore Marika
Schmiedt’s body of artistic memory work from 1999 to 2015, relying on a critical visual approach.
The impetus for this exploration is Slawomir Kapralski’s assertion that the actual cases of active
remembering and commemoration among Roma and Sinti would render the traditional approach to
Roma as “people without memory and history” inaccurate. As this case study shows, there is no such
a thing as “Roma indifference to recollection,” but rather, the testimony about the traumatic past
is silenced or obstructed by the lack of the infrastructure, the bureaucracy of the archives, and the
strategic forgetting politics.
Keywords
artistic memory, commemoration, politics of memory, Roma Holocaust, will to memory
Introduction
With a joint letter published online by The Daily Beast on 13 September 2014, several social scientists,
artists, and Roma rights activists called attention to “The Holocaust Forgotten Roma
Victims.”1 The authors of this letter called for recognition of the genocide of the Roma during the
Second War World (1939–1945) and their inclusion in the official history of the Holocaust. The
letter calls for an explicit focus to acknowledge the Romani victims of the Holocaust and to discard
the descriptions of Romani victims as being part of an isolated genocide:
generations of school children have learnt to call the results of the Nazi’s attempts at race-based
extermination by the name, “Holocaust,” and to infer that the Roma were not part of the same horrible
Corresponding author:
Maria Alina Asavei, Institute of International Studies, Charles University, U Krize 8, 158 00 Praha 5, Czech Republic.
Email: maria.asavei@fsv.cuni.cz; alinaasavei@yahoo.com
741929MSS0010.1177/1750698017741929Memory StudiesAsavei
research-article2017
Article
108	 Memory Studies 13(1)
policy enactments, is not only historically inaccurate, but also implies that there was a different experience
for Roma. (Raeesi et al., 2014)
A recent film production presented at the Palais de l’Europe (on 22 October 2015), within the
framework of the 29th Council of Europe Congress Session, displayed rare archival footage and
significant testimonies of the Roma victims of the Nazis. The film is advertised as “the first documentary
film which pursues the recognition of the Roma’ to put an end to their status as forgotten
victims of the Nazis” (Amicale Council of Europe, 2015).
While the traumatic memory of the Jews who suffered persecutions during the Nazi regime has
been many times materialized in monuments, memorials, art works, museums, and other officially
sanctioned forms of commemoration both in the United States and in Europe, the disarticulated
memory of the Roma Holocaust is much less pervasive within the active European (common)
memory culture. Actually, there is a very big gap within European cultural memory of Romani
persecution during the Nazi era. This veil of oblivion has persisted since the end of the Second War
World when
the Roma were decapitated people searching for someone to help explain to them what had just happened.
Instead they were greeted with a wall of silence and blank stares from the authorities. No reparations, no
apologies, no film or plays about their plight … (Clayton, 2002: 110)
Yet, although the officially sanctioned cultures of the various European countries are many times
reluctant in enacting Romani’s memory of the Holocaust, this does not mean that these traumatic
memories (and post-memories2) do not struggle to overcome Europe’s collective amnesia and its
deleterious consequences. Roma right to memory has to be understood against a background of
constant suppressing of Roma history and memory, social injustice, and pandemic Romaphobia.
This article aims to survey the artistic-political struggles for Roma right to memory, focusing
mostly (though not exclusively) on the artistic memory work of the Austrian Roma contemporary
artist Marika Schmiedt (born in 1966 in Traun/UpperAustria). Without pretending to be exhaustive
(which is almost impossible as the field of Roma artistic memory is still evolving), this article
attempts to illuminate the artistic memory of the Romani Holocaust as displayed in the works of
the most prominent Austrian artists of Roma origins. This detailed case study aims to contribute to
what I call “Roma will to memory” and to argue against those academic/popular culture positions
which support the view that Romani people live in an “eternal present.” In her artistic-political
practice, Marika Schmiedt relentlessly deals with the memory of Roma cultural, social, and political
exclusion, and a large body of her work is dedicated to the memory of the Roma and Sinti
victims who perished under National Socialist Germany and their allies. Since 1999, Schmiedt’s
artistic-political work has dealt with documentation and research conducted in collaboration with
survivors of the persecution of Roma and Sinti from the end of the Second World War to the present
day. What I find particularly important in Schmiedt’s work is the constant affirmation of Roma
strength and political activism which overcome the well-established visual representations of
Romani as perpetual passive voices. Schmiedt’s artistic memory work is not always displayed in
museums, art galleries, or other officially sanctioned institutions of memory preservation, but
rather performed as “confrontations” in counter-public spheres and on online platforms. The artistic
memories of the Roma and Sinti Holocaust as displayed in Marika Schmiedt’s work are invaluable
documents of Roma persecution and extrajudicial killings which cover both the Nazi period
and the post-Nazi treatment of Roma and Sinti throughout Europe and beyond. As Kapralski
argues, the Holocaust generates the linearity of Roma history, dividing it into periods “before the
Holocaust” and “after the Holocaust,” and “gives this history meaning as a continuous unfolding
Asavei	 109
of the persecution pattern” (Hancock interpreted in Kapralski, 2007: 119). At the same time,
Schmiedt’s memory work does not only address the persecution of Roma and Sinti in her country
(Austria) but also illuminate multidimensional histories and memories of exclusion, displacement,
forced migration, dispossession, and hatred.
Anna Reading (2012) posits that international protocols disclose four types of “discursive percepts”
referring to the legal right to memory: “the right to autochthonic memory, the right to world
cultural memory, the right to national memory, and the rights of victims within states of exception
to have the crimes of the state publicly recognized through various media forms” (p. 136). Reading
(2012) concludes her study “The European Roma: an unsettled right to memory,” claiming that
although the right to memory is not overtly stipulated in any international convention, this right is
implicitly protected in the Universal Declaration of Human Rights (p. 137). In the case of the
Roma and Sinti, Reading claims that the right to memory is illuminated through the latter type of
discursive percept (the victim memory). She supports this view by arguing that after decades of
silence and avoidance, there is “some growing recognition of the memory of the Porajmos” in the
European context.3 Yet, as this article argues, although this recognition is enforced through
European policies directed to eliminate Romaphobia, racism, and discrimination, in practice, individual
states offered little (or no) support to aid the materialization of the cultural and social memory
of Roma exclusion from the “common European memory.” At the same time, it has to be
mentioned that “Roma right to memory” ought not to be regarded only through a “victim memory”
discourse type, as Reading suggests. As Bosnian artist Selma Selman points out,
I have faced discrimination. This is why I don’t want to represent myself as a Roma artist … One very
important thing in my art is that I don’t want to just show that we (Roma) are discriminated against; I want
to fight against discrimination. The quality of my art is rooted in the culture of the Roma people, but it is
enhanced by the experience of being Bosnian. (Central European University, 2015)
What this confession reveals is that the artistic memory and what this memory triggers is also
enhanced by the experience of being Bosnian (the right to national memory). Another confession
made by a Sinti survivor of the Holocaust, Rita Prigmore, reveals, “We Gypsies do not have a
country of our own and we do not strive for it. We want to be fully fledged citizens in the countries
we live in and have been living for generations” (Zafeiri, 2014). Unlike in other cases, where the
concepts of national identity and memory are criticized for inculcating “master narratives,” a
nuanced national identity and memory discourse is still important in resisting discrimination and
antigypsyism because non-identity prejudices about Roma are based on stereotypes that define
“Gypsies” as “in-between identities”/“no-identities,” “homeless,” “nomads,” “instable,” “neither
here nor there.” In this way, “the alleged Gypsy is denied a stable and fixed nationality and belonging,
one of the most important characteristics in the identity formation of the ‘we-group’” (End,
2013: 21).4
Memory of the Roma Holocaust in current Austrian history
Austria—like Italy, Romania, Hungary, and others—also has a narrative of “occupation” according
to which its complicity with Nazi Germany is non-existent, and this “historiography” triggers a
greater interest in establishing Austrian state as “the first victim of Hitler’s barbarism, and as a
country that has been occupied by the Nazi” (Thurner, 2013: 17). Consequently, the Austrian state
shows little interest in paying reparations to the Nazi’s victims (namely, to persecuted minority
groups) because the narrative of the “whole nation” (how the whole nation suffered from Nazi
persecution and occupation) is the prevalent one. In this “grand narrative” about the “victims of the
110	 Memory Studies 13(1)
war,” Romani (as well as Jewish) victims and their memory of this traumatic event are often overlooked.
As Thurner (2013) points out, the Austrian federal government used to invite Romani leaders
to the Parliament from time to time, in an attempt to prove that
integration has been successful and Austria does not have a ‘Roma problem’.5 This is also why the contact
with the media works so well. Journalists know their contact persons within the Roma community, and it
is easy for them to get an interview or a statement on current social events. (pp. 14–15)
However, there are many aspects of Roma history and reality which remain hidden or silenced. The
Roma Holocaust is one of these aspects and its study remains a marginal issue in Austrian historical
research. However, as Thurner (2013) argues, although this study was postponed in official
institutions of historical research for various reasons (the supposed lack of sources, lack of interest),
circles outside of the academy (artists, independent researchers, journalists, activists) focused
on this topic and attempted to gather evidence to fill a gap in the memory of the Second War World.
One of these valuable efforts of a history from below is Selma Steinmetz’s 1966 monograph
“Österreichs Zigeuner im NS-Staat” (Austrian Gypsies under the Nazi Regime) in which the
researcher (herself a resistance fighter and a victim of the Nazi regime) conducted interviews with
the survivors of the concentration camps. As Thurner (2013) points out, Steinmetz
was not only interested in putting this history in writing, she also sought to include Roma and Sinti as one
of the communities that survived the concentration camps and assist them in applying for restitution as
victims of the Nazi regime. (p. 16)
Yet, only after 1988 (the year known in Austria as “the commemorative year”) were Roma officially
recognized as victims of the Nazi regime. The artist Marika Schmiedt is part of the small
Roma civil society born after 1988 in Austria and her work as a contemporary artist and cultural
activist can be understood as part and parcel of an active and critical Roma movement. Roma
Holocaust related art is another form of memorialization of the traumatic past. The artistic practices
of remembering developed by Schmiedt chronicle the persecutions of Roma and Sinti from
the perspective of the descendant witness as Schmiedt performs a post-memory work which, nevertheless,
encapsulates an inherited collective, trans-generational trauma. Her artistic post-memory
and its role in transitional justice processes in Austria and beyond reveals what Nicole L. Immler
(2012) calls “a narrative of anger” (pp. 270–281). The importance of the narrative and performance
of anger in reconciliation processes ought not to be underestimated. As Immler (2012) argues,
“while this performance of discontent initially boycotts the (reconciliation) dialogue, it also serves
to create relationships, not only within families, but also with the outside, between accuser and
accused” (p. 278).6 At the same time, art has the power to disclose political emotions (anger
included) and to display them as authentic archives of feelings.
"Call the witness"
Not a single Roma was called to bear witness to the Nazi crimes at the Nuremberg trials. The
Württemberg Ministry of the Interior released a statement in 1951 to the judges hearing restitution
crimes that “the Gypsies were persecuted under the National Socialist regime not for any racial
reason, but because their criminal and antisocial record” (Hancock, 2004: 383). For a long time,
this position remained unchallenged and nobody complained as “everyone despises Gypsies, so
why exercise restraint? Who will avenge them? Who will complain? Who will bear witness?”
(Montandon quoted in Hancock, 2004: 384). The “bearing witness” aspect of an unfinished
Asavei	 111
transitional justice process is still an issue of intense academic and political debate. The debate is
ongoing and it is not yet clear how to remember and commemorate the Roma and Sinti who perished
under the Nazi regime. This difficulty is typically explained by invoking the view that it is
not yet settled as to how to refer to the wide variety of Roma persecutions. At the same time, there
is a widely accepted view that Roma lack a commemorative culture. Many studies emphasize that
Roma’s memory culture is “peculiar” particularly because, unlike other communities, Romani people
live in an “eternal present” in which there is no cult for the past and no interest for historical
recording. By the same token, certain academic discourses posit that there is a lack of will to
remember in Roma communities and this lack is explained by peculiar aspects of traditional
Romani culture. As Alaina Lemon (2000) argues, in earlier ethnographic studies, Roma are presented
as people without history and as individuals “indifferent to recollection” (p. 3). This common
articulation of Roma as disinterested in memory work is present both in public and academic
discourse. Some social scientists argue that Romani people are not actually interested in history
and in preserving the memory of their culture because they do not have a written tradition. Other
social scientists (e.g. Stewart, 2004) developed an “implicit memory approach” (Roma do not
remember the past directly but as embedded in the social relations with the majority population)
pointing out that Roma—in relation to the Holocaust—are actually not “indifferent to recollection”
but they “remember without commemoration” (Stewart, 2004). Still other researchers complain
that they could not find any survivor of the Roma genocide who wants to share their memories: “I
searched in vain for personal accounts, for memories from gypsy survivors …” (Sonneman, 2002:
25) These assertions are not confined to academic circles but circulate freely in media and popular
culture. For instance, Isabel Fonseca (1995) claims in her best-seller novel, Burry Me Standing:
The Gypsies and Their Journey, that “the Roma have made an art of forgetting their traumatic
experiences,” including that of the Holocaust (p. 243).
According to Lemon (2000), Romani Holocaust memory is less present in the public sphere also
because of “the alleged gypsies’ taboos on remembering the dead” (p. 3). However, as Reading
convincingly argues, these interpretations are not necessarily accurate. The fact that we encounter
fewer testimonies from the Roma survivors of the Nazi regime does not necessarily mean that
Romani people are culturally “indifferent to recollection,” rather this scarcity of memory work is
explained by the fact that many Roma survivors of the Second War World have been living in
countries that forbid commemorations, memorials, and other forms of memorialization of the
Roma Holocaust on the grounds that “the entire nation” suffered under the Nazi regime. Moreover,
as Reading (2012) suggests, it is entirely possible to establish a recorded history of Roma persecution
under the Nazi regime and to gather oral testimonies with the “right approach” (p. 131). But
what would this “right approach” be? To what extent can the memory work at the grassroots level
foster an active culture of remembrance, and how can art supplement this active remembrance? In
his critique of Stewart’s study “Remembering without commemoration: the mnemonics and politics
of Holocaust. Memories among European Roma,”7 Kapralski (2009, 2013) posits that Stewart
relies on the construction of his argument of “Roma’s implicit memory” on an essentialist, fixed
concept of Roma identity, disregarding the variety of Romani life, cultures, and the liminal border
line between Roma and non-Roma cultural production, particularly when traumatic memory is
involved. Kapralski (2009) is keen to reject the monolithic picture of the Roma cultural universe.
It is true that cultural explanations can illuminate social phenomena and differences in a groups’
behavior—because these explanations speak to the collective level—but this does not mean that
we should rely on an unsophisticated concept of “culture” (Keating, 2008) At the same time,
Kapralski (2009) is also right to refuse treating the Roma as a passive and static group, as a group
with an ascribed identity whose features are universal and unchanging, because individuals belong
to “more than one cultural milieu” and cultures have “contested boundaries”8 (Keating, 2008).
112	 Memory Studies 13(1)
Following Kapralski’s (2009) claim that the actual cases of active remembrance and commemoration
among Roma would render the traditional approach to Roma as “people without memory
and history” inaccurate, this article argues that art can “call the witness” of the Roma Holocaust.
At the same time, art can also create the landmarks for the “unknown” history of Roma without
relying on the politics of monuments but on “living memories” as opposed to the official “memories
in bronze or marble.” Marika Schmiedt’s artistic-political work is a very relevant example in
this respect because it relies on “living testimony” and “oral micro-histories” which are embedded
in a participatory artistic practice. Her art of memory is grounded in meticulous historical and
political research in archives and informed by questions addressed by the philosopher Giorgio
Agamben (1998): “What is the juridical structure that allowed such events to take place?” (p. 166).
At the same time, her artistic production is not only concerned with bringing to the forefront the
voices and testimonies of the victims, but it also attempts to disclose the long-term effects of
internment in concentration camps in the lives of second and third generations. The impetus for
this artistic research is her personal trauma as a granddaughter of Amalia Horvath. The artist’s
grandmother was murdered at the concentration camp of Ravensbrück. In her search for memory
and justice, the artist faces the persecution and murder of her relatives during the National Socialist
regime. As she declares in her film documentary An Undesirable Society (2001), almost all of her
family has been persecuted:
My great-grandfather was murdered in the Buchenwald; Josef, my grand-mother’s brother, was murdered
in Buchenwald in 1940, at the age of 35; Josefa my grandmother’s sister was murdered in Auschwitz in
1944, at the age of 37; Ulrich, Josefa’s son, was murdered in Auschwitz in 1944, at the age of 14. I was
unable to find any information about the fate of her other two children, Theresa and Johann.
Schmiedt engages in a convoluted process of tracing their disappearance, attempting to find records
in various archives and questioning the official politics of amnesia. Her 2001 artistic documentary,
An Undesirable Society, documents this search for memory and justice involving the audience in
her research. The citizens are confronted with Austria’s Nazi past and “challenged to share the
weight of the destructions so many Austrians have been involved in, if ‘only’ by silence and passivity.”9
The right to memory is also a struggle for the right to know the truth by illuminating the
complicity in human rights violations. In the lack of typical transitional justice mechanisms (trials,
truth commissions, and so on), artistic practice becomes an aide-mémoire and a judicial eye. What
An Undesirable Society reveals is the perpetuation of the negative stereotypes about Roma and
politics of oblivion. The documentary commences with footage of crowds (most probably at the
metro station) accompanied by a sensual Viennese waltz. This is the first scene in a film-document
situated between poetics and politics of justice. Juxtaposing the serenity of this introductory scene
with interviews in the streets, Schmiedt discloses the current racism and discrimination against
Roma in her country (and in Europe). Her interlocutors are asked in an initial phase what they
know about the Roma ethnic group, and their answers range from “nothing at all” to statements
such as “put away everything, the Gypsies are coming … that is what I remember.” The next question
addressed by the artist was “What do you know about the assassination of 500,000 Gypsies?”
The answers also range from “nothing. never heard of that” and “nobody told us that. In school
they teach us different things. They told us about the Jews, not the Gypsies” to “In school we talked
about minorities in Austria. The Gypsies were just mentioned. When we talked about the NS era,
they were not mentioned.” The artist then documents her painstaking pilgrimage from one institution
to another in an attempt to trace her relative’s disappearance. The bureaucratic nightmare on
the right to memory is displayed in detail. Several times the artist is told that she came “at a very
inopportune moment” (min. 28.56) and “the files from 1938 or 1939 were scaled … or maybe they
Asavei	 113
are at the Federal Archive” (min. 30.12 and min. 30.21). After visiting the Federal Archives, she
found out that the files from 1938 to 1939 no longer exist but “if she really wants to see the files
she should bring a written permission” (min. 32.05). Later on, the artist discovers a “memory
book” dedicated to the dead people (Remembrance Book about the People of Ravensbrück) where
she found her grandmother’s name. Schmiedt’s artistic-political research is instantiated as a form
of unveiling and denunciation of what proved to be, in the end, institutions of permanent exclusion.
Although the archives keep the files with the names of the prisoners, transport lists, prisoners’
photos, death certificates, and so on, it seems that these files cannot be accessed. Thus, as the curator
Suzana Milevska (2011a) points out, the artist “is making visible the existing evidence by putting
the pile of these documents in front of our eyes in their frappant materiality”. The very notion
of “archive” is expanded in Schmiedt’s work to the spaces where memories evade the official
institutions of remembrance and enter everyday interactions and realities.10 As Riano-Alcala and
Baines (2011) argue, the living archive disturbs “conventional assumptions about what is documentation
or witnessing in the field of transitional justice and introduces new interdisciplinary
tools to the field with which to learn from and listen differently to survivors” (p. 412). This “frappant
materiality” of the “living archive” is also displayed in Schmiedt’s installation What
Remains…2000-2009 (2011, DVD loop 20-30), in which the artist includes copies of the documents
collected during her research for the film-document An Undesirable Society and a video.
This installation was displayed within the exhibition Roma Protocol inside theAustrian Parliament’s
Press Room in Vienna. The pile of evidence of Romani persecution is displayed through a
few thousand single copies of transport lists, prisoner lists, obituaries, inmate-stuff cards, detention
certificates, cash cards or documents related to medical experiments were offered to the audience to take
home and thus to keep the memory of these otherwise blacked-out events. (Milevska, 2011a)
In this way, the memory of Roma persecution under the Nazi regime is enacted as a “memory
event,” meant to turn the audience from passive spectators into active participants.11 Etkind (2010)
employs the concept of “memory event” to connote various types of cultural remembering that
emphasize the continuum of cultural expression as opposed to the static of the lieux de mémoire
(p. 5). Schmiedt’s participatory memory work (the distribution of these records to the audience)
enhances a “living culture of remembrance,” as opposed to more traditional monumental expressions.
This commemorative event relies on a cultural (artistic) practice of participation and aims to
occasion an active remembrance. The participants to this “memory event” do not necessarily pursue
the officially sanctioned politics of remembrance and commemoration. This memory practice
opens the ground for new venues in commemoration which fosters intersubjective remembering.
At the same time, this artistic discourse on the Roma Holocaust triggers a multidimensional and
multidirectional remembering interconnected with memories of discrimination and forced migration.
Thus, as Riano-Alcala and Baines (2011) posit when they refer to various ways to document
human rights violations, the archive of Roma persecution is living, “it is embedded in the day-today
lives and surroundings of the survivor-witness and inscribed on the bodies of tellers and listeners”
(p. 413).
The same will to memory guides Schmiedt’s documentary, GEDENKEN, from 2009 (Police and
Memory). In this short film, the artist conducts interviews with police officers in the Federal Police
Directorate Vienna attempting to disentangle who collaborated with the Nazi regime and why. The
impetus for this film is the installment of a memorial plaque (in 2000) which commemorates the
Austrian police officers murdered during the Nazi era without considering the involvement of
some of these officers in National Socialism’s politics. The plaque is installed at the Head Office
of the Federal Police in Vienna. This commemorative plaque is only one of the many sites of
114	 Memory Studies 13(1)
memory in Vienna which serves as a reminder of the Nazi crimes and Nazi’s victims in Austria.
Vienna is known as a “City of Remembrance of Nazi Atrocities,” and the existence of so many
streets named after Austrian Jews who were murdered under National Socialism justifies this label.
Yet, the post-war politics of memory controls both the practices and contents of public (official)
remembrance. Schmiedt’s interviews reveal the insistence of the police officers in defending the
perpetrators of the Holocaust, “thereby raising the question of the unresolved complicity of the
current legal system in defending and labeling the perpetrators as victims, and ignoring their active
and willing participation in the Nazi regime.”12Thus, this film-document also struggles to illuminate
what Primo Levi (1989: 40) and others described as the moral and political “gray zones” of
collaborators, bystanders, perpetrators, and beneficiaries of violence. The fact that this attempt to
illuminate the gray zones of past and present violations of human rights is initiated by an artist—
who uses an artistic-political method of investigation—proves that art can complement typical
transitional justice mechanisms. GEDENKEN address the complex complicity of the Austrian
staus quo in human rights violations by highlighting the ways and the discourses through which the
“innocent” collaborators became beneficiaries of injustice. Schmiedt’s art of memory and responsibility
interrogates the officially sanctioned memory and its conflation of victims and perpetrators
on the grounds that it is art’s power to unveil the truth and to condemn historical forgetting. As the
documentary reveals, the victim–perpetrator complex elicits questions and justifications which
vary from individual to individual.
In another body of work, Visible, from 2009, the artist brings together five portraits of Austrian
women survivors of the Ravensbrück concentration camp. Their testimony is clear evidence of the
painful treatment they endured. At the same time, this traumatic memory is also passed down to the
second and third generations. The return of the victim’s voice in contemporary artistic production
represents “the return of a silent witness and gives voice to the muted historical experience”
(Grobbel, 2003). At the same time, this return of the victim’s voice proves the erroneousness of the
common assertion that Roma survived the harsh times because there is no place for trauma in their
collective memory. By the same token, Jan Yoors’ exotic account from Crossing which underlines
that Roma are “content to remain forgotten and unnoticed” is also inaccurate (Yoors quoted in
Tebbutt, 2006: 189). Marika Schmiedt’s Legacy also demonstrates that the women descendants of
the victims continually articulate their need to renegotiate the past as they live with their “quiet
testimonials” of those “who cannot testify.” These testimonies clearly indicate the will to remember
and to be remembered against a background of indifference and oblivion. Schmiedt’s work
Legacy is dedicated to another Austrian-Romani visual artist, story teller, writer, and musician who
survived the Holocaust—Ceija Stojka. After she survived all the horrors of internment in three
concentration camps (Auschwitz, Bergen-Belsen, and Ravensbrück), she was forced to face the
continuous persecution and discrimination of Roma and Sinti after the end of the Second World
War. The memories of exclusion and persecution are all present in her art enacted in visual production,
musical performances, and writing. Stojka’s indefatigable memory work testifies her struggle
for Roma right to memory in a context of constant and perpetuated infringements of the human
rights of Roma, Sinti, and Travelers: “If the world does not change now … if it does not build
peace-so that my great grandchildren have a chance to live in this world, then I cannot explain why
I survived Auschwitz, Bergen-Belsen, and Ravensbrück” (Stojka quoted in Keen, 2015: 80). After
the war, the artist returned to Austria only to find that there was no acknowledgment of the Roma
persecution during the Nazi regime, and some anti-Roma policies even continued after the Second
World War. Facing this excruciating oblivion of the Romani Holocaust and their continuous persecution
in Austria and in Europe, Stojka began to paint in her mid-50s (starting in 1986). Her visual
testimony about the Roma traumatic experience under National Socialism is also enacted in written
form. In 1988, she published, We Live in Seclusion: The Memories of a Romani, one of the first
Asavei	 115
Roma autobiographic accounts of the Holocaust. Ceija Stojka’s art is a break through the silence
and refused testimonies. As the director of the Berlin art gallery, Kai Dikhas posits,
In Germany, very often these were the very same people who had been in charge of organizing the
Holocaust in the first place. They simply refused testimonies and did not want to let the victims study the
archives. With her writing and artwork, Ceija Stojka broke this taboo of silence […] To my knowledge,
Stojka and her brother Karl were the first to go public in Austria, where people were particularly silent
about this part of history. (Pankok quoted in Bak, 2014)
Thus, Stojka’s artistic testimony, as Schmiedt’s “testimony-within-testimony,” ought to not be only
understood or primarily understood as a private working through of the individual memories and
trauma. What this form of artistic work encapsulates in the first place is a will to memory and historical
justice especially within a climate where strategic forgetting is prevalent. Marika Schmiedt’s
Legacy does not necessarily attempt to integrate in the visual cannon of the Holocaust because
what she wants to emphasize is not only the pervasiveness of Roma suffering but also the political
intervention and the struggle for the right to memory. In this film, Ceija Stojka and different generations
of her descendants (exclusively women) are interviewed by Marika Schmiedt, and all of
them warn us about the noxious and perpetual racism present in our present societies. Ceija Stojka
recalls the most startling memories of her internment in the Nazi concentration camps and warns
that these crimes against human rights can happen again. Some of her memories from the time she
was only 10 years old reveal how Roma women have died in the Nazi camps: “What they did, they
used a hair curler, penetrated the woman with it, and then switched on the power. The women
would endure internal burn wounds and subsequently die from their injuries” (Legacy, minute
15.33 and 15.39). Another unsettling memory reveals how Capo guards—who were prisoners
themselves—were treating the other prisoners worse than the SS guards:
I remember when an old man slipped in a puddle. He tried to get up but kept on skidding because the
puddle was slippery and greasy like lard. And as he was trying to get up, one of the capo guards reached
for his head, pressed his face into the puddle and beat his head with a club. (Legacy, minute
17.09–17.31)
In the second part of the film, Ceija Stojka continues her testimony about Roma persecution in
Austria long after the end of the Second War World:
In 1960 people still had Nazi flags hanging from their walls but I did not say anything … I find it quite
incredible that Mozart, Schiller, Cleopatra, Nero—people and events from centuries ago—are brought up
in no time. But to shine light on the history of the Nazi is too much to ask for. That is a burden. (Legacy,
minute 28.28–29.00)
The film ends up with media reports about Romani persecution throughout Europe and the rise of
the neo-Nazi groups which harass and intimidate the Roma residents of various European cities and
villages. In one of the last scenes, Ceija Stojka states that Marika Schmiedt can pass these memories
on: “You are a witness to my story. You are a contemporary witness” (Legacy minute 40.50).
Schmiedt, in turn, commands the audience of her film to bear witness to Roma persecution and
harassment, and in this way the legacy of witnessing is passed on. Both Stojka and Schmiedt’s readiness
to question old stereotypes about “Roma culture and lifestyle” and “Roma as people without
history and indifferent to recollection” reveals the instantiation of a will to memory and a will to
memory’s transmission. It is not without significance that the will to memory and living testimonies
are enacted in both cases in artistic production.As ThomasActon (2011) argues, “sociology calls the
116	 Memory Studies 13(1)
production of visual art ‘representation’, but when artists call it ‘bearing witness’ it suddenly
becomes more urgent. Bearing witness is an action that requires an active subject.”13 Marika
Schmiedt’s Legacy is both a film about testimony and a “testimony-within-testimony” involving the
creative act of an author (the artist) who, according to Agamben (1999), is at the same time a coauthor
of the testimony because the author “signifies the witness insofar as his testimony always
presupposes something—a fact, a thing or a word—that preexists his and whose reality and force
must be validated or certified” (p. 149).
The Second Roma Pavilion at the Venice Biennale entitled, Call the Witness (2011), urged
Roma artists, media researchers, and academics to testify to the pandemic spread of hatred and
discrimination against Roma communities. As the curatorial statement points out,
in the core of the project lies the concept of contemporary artist as an instantaneous witness of his/her time
who is not a passive viewer but rather acts as an active participant in solidarity with the events and people
that provoked his/her artwork. (Art&Education, 2010)
Marika Schmiedt’s Legacy was part of the sheer number of testimonies displayed at the second
Roma Pavilion (Venice Biennale of Contemporary Art, 2011). Positioned against historical amnesia,
her witnessing functions as both evidence of a will to remember and as weapon against the
cultural taboos about Roma’s indifference to remembering traumatic events. The second Roma
pavilion at the Venice Biennale was conceived around the curatorial concept of Call the Witness.
As Suzana Milevska (2011b; who proposed this concept for the Roma Pavilion) claims,
the title and the main theme of the project Call the Witness were informed by Romaniya, the Roma law that
structures community life, and Romani Kris, the judicial tradition of informal and unwritten justice codex
still existing in some Romani cultures. Within this framework, testimonial “performances” allow anybody
to be a witness in a proceeding if one feels that there is an urgency for his/her testimony to be heard for the
sake of truth and justice.
The contemporary artists of Roma descent from all over Europe (though not exclusively) came to
Venice Biennale to bear witness of Roma and Sinti continuous persecution. At the same time, they
understood the urgency of disclosing those memories of oppression and extrajudicial killings
which are often overlooked, overwritten, or whitewashed by cultural and political institutions. The
artists’ testimonies verbalize and display trauma for the ones who cannot speak and address the
issue of lack of compassion and solidarity with those different and disempowered. What Marika
Schmiedt aims to accomplish through her artistic memory work is a form of collective action and
mobilization against historical oblivion and multifarious injustice. As Tommaso Vitale and Enrico
Claps (2010) posit, these “mobilizations are never spontaneous,” but rather “when referring to
mobilizations we talk about moral and political entrepreneurs” (p. 234). As a moral and political
“entrepreneur of memory” (Jelin, 2003; Müller, 2002), Marika Schmiedt triggers social action and
political deliberation. This artistic form of political and “ethnic mobilization” (Vermeersch, 2006:
102) crosses “the boundaries of policy making, academic work and grassroots mobilization towards
collective action” (Mirga-Kruszelnicka et al., 2015: 22).
Artistic memory against strategic forgetting in Kirchstetten
Some of Marika Schmiedt’s relatives lived in the small Austrian town Kirchstetten, Lower Austria.
In her persistent quest for the right to memory, the artist wanted to commemorate in August 2015
the Roma and Sinti who were persecuted and killed during National Socialism with a temporary
Asavei	 117
exhibition in the small Austrian city. According to Roma React (2015), around 100 Roma and Sinti
were living in Kirchstetten before the Second World War, and only a few of them survived the
concentration camps. Kirchstetten is not only the hometown of the Roma and Sinti victims of the
Nazi era but also the hometown of the Austrian poet, essayist, and writer Joseph Weinheber (1892–
1945) who lived in Kirchstetten from 1936. As Roma React (2015) reports on their website,
“shortly after the ‘Anschluss’, when Austria became part of Nazi Germany,” Joseph Weinheber
became a “court artist” for the Nazis. In 1945, he committed suicide as the Red Army was advancing
in Austria. Yet, his artistic reputation grew and Weinheber became one of the most respected
poets in Austria. The traces of his fame still linger in the cultural memory of Kirchstetten, and
several places and institutions are named after him (a museum, a kindergarten, a street, a square,
and a bridge). Weinheber is remembered for the aesthetic qualities of his poems and partly forgotten
with regard to the pro-Nazi Germany content of some of his works. Referring to the aesthetic
qualities of Weinheber’s work, Andrew Barker (2006) points out that the lyric poetry of Joseph
Weinheber “provides a counter to the otherwise overwhelming provincialism of so much Austrian
writing at the time” (p. 115). However, both literary critics and Roma rights activists confront
Weinheber’s problematic politics expressed in poetic form, especially the Nazi panegyrics from the
Bekenntnisbuch (1938) where the Austrian poet from Kirchstetten declaimed: “Deutschland, ewig
und groß/ Germany eternal and great,/Deutschland, wir grüßen dich!/ Germany, we greet thee/
Führer, heilig und stark,/ Fürher, sacred and strong,/ Führer, wir grüßen dich!/ Fürher, we greet
thee! ” (excerpt from Joseph Weinheber’s “Hymnus auf die Heimkehr” translated by Barker, 2006:
115). Marika Schmiedt wanted to commemorate the Roma and Sinti victims of National Socialism
in Kirchstetten with a temporary art installation entitled Futschikato—Die verschwundenen Roma
und Sinti aus Kirchstetten und der “Fall Weinheber” (Futschikato—The Missing Roma and Sinti
from Kirchstetten and the “The Weinheber Case”) but the mayor of the city, Paul Horsak, denied
permission to exhibit her temporary art exhibition on the grounds that he does not accept
Kirchstetten to be in the spotlight of public and media attention as a place where Nazi crimes took
place. His letter of refusal addressed to Marika Schmiedt (2015) states that this exhibition would
be detrimental to Kirchstetten’s image as a city of great poets and writers (Weinheber included)
who are recognized as reputable artists in the whole world. He also mentioned that as the community
leader of the beautiful Kirchstetten, he believes that the younger generation does not want to
recall the dark past of the Nazi persecutions because the young generation is not responsible for the
crimes that happened more than 70 years ago. Moreover, the mayor of Kirchstetten posits that
memory work and the commemoration of the Roma and Sinti Holocaust victims should follow an
adequate protocol. He states, “Erinnerung ja, aber es muss auch einmal Schluss sein mit
Aufarbeitung und Auseinandersetzung” (Remembering yes, but there has to be a stop to processing
and confronting the past).14 What this puzzling assertion tries to suggest is that remembering and
commemorating the Holocaust should not be confrontational but “adequate.” In other words,
according to Paul Horsak, the memory making of the crimes and persecution of Roma and Sinti
should not entail a critical engagement with the past and should not force the community of
Kirchstetten to face the history of those disappeared. Following this, a legitimate question is what
kind of remembering would be “adequate” according to Horsak’s view.
Although he feared the presence of Kirchstetten in the spotlight of media attention, the denial of
Schmiedt’s temporary exhibition has gained consistent reactions both from the media and civil society.
A considerable number of non-governmental organizations (NGOs), academics, and artists
addressed open letters to Paul Horsak in which they condemned the silencing of the Roma right to
memory and the censorship of the artist’s installation.15 In spite of the official denial to install the
exhibition, on 27 September 2015, Marika Schmiedt, Martina Sinowatz, and Klaus Sinowatz organized
an unauthorized exhibition in Kirchstetten as a protest action against the censorship of Schmiedt’s
118	 Memory Studies 13(1)
work and against the infringement of the Roma and Sinti victims’right to memory and commemoration.
The unauthorized exhibition was announced via online social media.16 The artistic-political
installation gathered quite a few citizens of Kirchstetten who attended the artistic event under the
vigilant eye of the policemen. Among the pieces displayed in this installation were excerpts from
Schmiedt’s research (copies of prisoner lists, obituaries, photographs) for her previous art pieces Un
Undesirable Society (2001) and What Remains…2000-2009 (2011). The public was invited again to
face the existing evidence of these archival documents, which testify to the persecution and extrajudicial
killings of Roma and Sinti under the Nazi regime. Marika Schmiedt’s political and artistic
practice extends and performs the archival memory of Roma and Sinti persecution by turning the
spectators from passive attendants to an artistic event into witness (or post-witnesses) of a horrendous
violation of human rights which is still perpetuated through a strategic politics of forgetting. As Von
Lisa-Maria Seidl reports for Nön newspaper, the unauthorized art exhibition from 27 September 2015
has been conceived as an artistic protest against “Kirchstetten’s ambivalent culture of commemoration”
which cherishes Joseph Weinheber’s memory but silences Roma and Sinti’s victims’ right to
commemoration (Von Seidl, Nön, 30 September 2015: 40). The artistic protest was also documented
photographically by Seidl and some of these photographs appeared in Nön newspaper. Marika
Schmiedt’s art installation, exhibited against all odds, bears witness to the double humiliation Roma
and Sinti endured—during National Socialism and in the present—when their voices have been constantly
silenced. The artist is a retrospective witness of the past deportations who turns into an active
witness of present discrimination and antigypsyism. She also discloses the tight link between the
current antigypsyism and the gap within the European cultural memory of Roma “forgotten
Holocaust.” What Marika Schmiedt’s memory work reveals is an acute emphasis on the cultural
memory of Roma persecution as performative act. In her approach, cultural memory is a constant
process in which the Romani persecution is reiterated with every new artistic enactment. Nevertheless,
the artist has a difficult road ahead of her, especially because her memory work is an active “lobbying”
for Roma Holocaust remembrance against a background of institutionalized forgetfulness.
Nevertheless, she paves the road to a more inclusive cultural memory. Her artistic intervention is also
a form of political activism which avoids the aestheticisation of politics. This artistic protest reveals
that the commemoration of Roma and Sinti is not an end in itself; rather, its meaningfulness rests in
its power to unveil past violations of human rights in order to foster a common future. Compellingly,
Schmiedt’s memory work also encapsulates the persistent discrimination faced by Romani in our
current societies. In her film documents, the testimonies of the survivors (as well as the testimonies
of their descendants) are constantly intertwined with memories of post-war discrimination and persecution.
Indeed, constant anti-Gypsy slogans and threats are recollected by all survivors and their
descendants. Schmiedt’s artistic practice highlights exactly what Alan Rosenbaum (2009) has called
the “ethical reasons” for investigating the gloomy periods in human history:
Any debate about the Holocaust uniqueness or about the relation of the Holocaust to other genocides is
worthwhile just to the extent that it never loses sight of the fact that ethical reasons are the most important
ones for studying these dark chapters in human history. (p. 5)
As Schmiedt’s artistic production reveals, the Romani’s fate in post–Second World War Europe
continues as part of a “dark chapter in human history.” The pervasive discrimination on the grounds of
ethnic origins is recurrently remembered by Schmiedt’s interlocutors. Thus, this artistic memory work
addresses the ordeals of the Romani and reminds the viewer that we bear witness “not only for the dead
but perhaps even more for the living” (Wiesel quoted in Roth, 2001: 74). Through her art installations,
films, and living memorials, Marika Schmiedt attempts to foster political action from the grassroots.
As Peter Jan Margry and Cristina Sánchez-Carretero posit, in their introduction to Grassroots
Asavei	 119
Memorials: The Politics of Memorializing Traumatic Death, the performances of memory at sites of
historical injustice “are not only a matter of expressing grief and sorrow” for the victims but also messages
“asking for action (‘This should not have happened’, ‘Somebody has to take responsibility’,
‘Change now’, ‘Justice!’)” (Margry and Sánchez-Carretero, 2011: 3).At the same time, these forms of
cultural productions can function as counter-monuments17 (Stevens et al., 2012; Young, 1992) in the
sense that they encapsulate a “critical mode of commemorative practice” (Stevens et al., 2012: 951).
Unlike the traditional monumental culture of remembrance (e.g. statues of local or national heroes),
the counter-monument displayed by Marika Schmiedt in Kirchstetten was not necessarily designed to
“adopt anti-monumental strategies” (Stevens et al., 2012: 951) as an aesthetic, post-modern device of
artistic memory making. Her installation instead puts forth a critical mode of commemoration intended
to oppose a specific existing monument (Joseph Weinheber’s) and the values it embodies.
Conclusion
This article has focused on the artistic memory of the Romani Holocaust in the Austrian context.
Although the focus of this study remains restricted to the artistic milieu, it still brings to the forefront
concrete instances of active commemoration of the Holocaust among Roma and Sinti. The
creative and political vigor of these artistic memory works can inspire other disenfranchised groups
to join the struggle against the hegemonic politics of forgetting the troubled past (by rendering visible
what is obliterated by the dominant, national “culture of remembrance”). In conclusion, those
academic (and other) positions which claim that Roma do not remember the Holocaust—either
because these memories are not direct reflections on the past but are “embedded” in the relations
between Roma and non-Roma (Stewart, 2004) or because of “the alleged gypsies’ taboos on
remembering the dead” and traumatic events (mentioned by Lemon, 2000: 3)—overlook the concrete
cases of active remembrance and commemoration among Roma and Sinti. As Marika
Schmiedt’s body of artistic memory work demonstrates, Romani commemorative practices are
very diverse and complex, overcoming many times the monolithic politics of monuments and
memorials, and enhancing participatory aesthetics and contemporary art practices. Moreover, as
Kapralski (2009) argues, “these artistic memory works and commemoration practices developed
“in contemporary ‘postmodern condition’ … do not radically differ from the non-Romani ones,
especially those influenced by traumatic historical experience” (p. 213). The “pathologization” and
exotization of the way Roma and Sinti remember the traumatic events rely on narrow (essentialist)
understandings of culture and identity, hasty generalizations, and politics of oblivion. As this
detailed case study of persistent artistic memory practice demonstrates, there is no merit to the idea
that there is a “Roma indifference to remembering,” but rather, the testimony is silenced or
obstructed by the lack of the infrastructure, the bureaucracy of the archives, and the strategic politics
of forgetting. Bringing to the forefront concrete cases of active memory work and commemoration
among Romani would render the accounts of traditional Roma culture of remembering and
forgetting the traumatic past inaccurate. Yet, oral history is not enough for gathering testimonies
and witness of the extrajudicial killings of Roma and Sinti. Oral history work needs to be supplemented
by artistic practice and artistic memory work in order to materialize these “living testimonies”
and to turn them into cultural memory. In this way, the still unknown yet striking materiality
of the Romani Holocaust will be revealed right in front of our eyes.
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication
of this article.
120	 Memory Studies 13(1)
Funding
The author(s) received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Notes
  1.	 Between 1933 and 1945, the members of Roma and Sinti ethnic minority in Europe suffered numerous
persecutions and extrajudicial killings under National Socialism. The Nazi regime and its allies regarded
Roma as “racially inferior” or “racial impure.” There is no consensus regarding the number of Roma and
Sinti killed by the Nazis and their allies but the most commonly cited number hovers somewhere around
500,000 victims. However, the figure of 500,000 victims is more frequently mentioned by activists and
politicians than by historians.
  2.	 Postmemory refers to the transmission of (often) traumatic memory from one generation to another. See
Marianne Hirsh (2008).
 3.	 Porajmos (“devouring”) is a Romani term introduced in the 1990s by Ian Hancock to connote the
Romani Holocaust. The term is used by some activists but many Roma (including the victims and
their relatives) do not use it in association with the Holocaust. Other activists reject this term on the
grounds that “Porajmos” is synonymous with another Romani word (poravipe) which means “rape” and
it is regarded as vulgar, offensive, and unacceptable. Some activists, academics, and politicians have
thought to propose other terms: Kali Traš (Black Fear), Samudaripen (collective murder), Pharrajimos
(Fragmentation), and so on.
 4.	 However, other voices (including those of some Roma activists, artists, and intellectuals) hold a
different view, opposing the attempts to “fix” Roma identities (including through national identity
narrative).
  5.	 According to recent census (2013), around 50,000 Romani live in Austria today.
 6.	 Nicole Immler addresses the issue of reparation procedures and family memory in Austria’s post
Holocaust context. She argues that there is a difference between the understanding of Austria’s reparation
policies and the private, subjective understandings of “compensation” for suffering injustice. Thus,
according to Immler’s main argument, “there is a difference between what the phrase ‘too little, too late’
is commonly being understood to mean (a critical evaluation of the compensation efforts), and an analytical
reading of this narrative, in the framework of ‘family memory’.” For more on this argument, see
Nicole L. Immler (2012).
  7.	 Michael Stewart (2004) argues that
despite Gypsy “presentist” rhetoric, the past is “remembered” among Gypsy populations […] Following
Maurice Bloch’s call for greater integration of psychological and anthropological work, this article considers
what can be gained from seeing memory as a socially distributed function, in which the role of
“implicit” memories, embedded in dealings with others, is significant. (p. 561)
  8.	 Form more on this critique of Stewart’s argument, see Slawomir Kapralski (2009).
 9.	Marika Schmiedt’s artist statement can be consulted at: https://marikaschmiedt.files.wordpress.
com/2011/12/cv-marika-schmiedt1.pdf
10.	 This view of the archive expanded to spaces of everyday interactions (as opposed to the understanding of
the archives as official and static institutions of remembrance) is detailed in Pilar Riano-Alcala and Erin
Baines (2011).
11.	 Alexander Etkind coined the term “memory event” in 2010. See Alexander Etkind (2010).
12.	Marika Schmiedt’s statement available on her website: https://marikaschmiedt.files.wordpress.
com/2011/12/cv-marika-schmiedt-engl.pdf
13.	 Thomas Acton’s talk for “Call the Witness” (Roma Pavilion, Venice Biennale 2011) can be watched
online at: http://www.callthewitness.net/Testimonies/TheNewRomaniArt
14.	 See the entire refusal letter of the mayor of Kirchstetten on Marika Schmiedt’s blog: https://mari-
kaschmiedt.wordpress.com/futschikato-die-verschwundenen-roma-und-sinti-aus-kirchstetten-und-der-
fall-weinheber/
Asavei	 121
15.	 The open letters addressed to the mayor or Kirchstetten can be consulted on Marika Schmiedt’s blog:
https://marikaschmiedt.wordpress.com/futschikato-die-verschwundenen-roma-und-sinti-aus-kirch-
stetten-und-der-fall-weinheber/
16.	 The unauthorized exhibition and protest action was announced on Facebook by the organizers who created
a special account entitled Futschikato—Die verschwundenen Roma und Sinti aus Kirchstetten und
der “Fall Weinheber”: https://www.facebook.com/events/842652939189482/
17.	 Counter-monument is both a philosophy of art and a strategy of commemoration that rejects the hegemonic
conventions of public memorials and monuments.
References
Acton T (2011) The new Romani art. Call the Witness. Available at: http://www.callthewitness.net/
Testimonies/TheNewRomaniArt (accessed 5 September 2015).
Agamben G (1998) Homo Sacer: Sovereign Power and Bare Life. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press.
Agamben G (1999) Remnants of Auschwitz: The Witness and the Archive. New York: Zone Books.
Amicale Council of Europe (2015) The striking discovery of a completely unknown history. Available at:
http://www.amicale-coe.eu/en/news/901-the-striking-discovery-of-a-completely-unknown-history.html
(accessed 18 October 2015).
Art&Education (2010) 2nd Roma Pavilion-call the witness: open call. Available at: http://www.artandeducation.net/announcement/2nd-roma-pavilion-call-the-witness-open-call/
(accessed 13 October 2015).
Bak A (2014) Interview with Moritz Pankok about Ceija Stojka and the re-evaluation of Roma art. Art
Margins, 1 December. Available at: http://www.artmargins.com/index.php/5-interviews/755-interviewwith-moritz-pankok-about-ceija-stojka-and-the-re-evaluation-of-roma-art
(accessed 10 October 2015).
Barker A (2006) The politics of Austrian literature, 1927-56. In: Kohl K and Robertson R (eds) A History of
Austrian Literature 1918-200019182000. New York: Camden House, pp. 107–127.
Central European University (2015) Selman crosses barriers with art. Available at: https://www.ceu.edu/
article/2015-10-01/selman-crosses-barriers-art (accessed 10 October 2015).
Clayton M (2002) Roma: A People on the Edge. Felixstowe: Braiswick.
End M (2013) Gipsy vs farmer: the social dimension of modern antigypsyism. In: Bratić L, Gerbasits G,
Hummer A, et al. (eds) Romanistan Is Everywhere. Vienna: IG Kultur Österreich, pp. 19–25.
Etkind A (2010) Mapping memory events in the east European space. East European Memory Studies 1: 4–5.
Fonseca I (1995) Burry Me Standing: The Gypsies and Their Journey. New York: Vintage.
Grobbel M (2003) Performance in gypsy autobiographies from Germany and Austria. Available at: http://
www2.dickinson.edu/glossen/heft7/romasinti.html (accessed 12 October 2015).
Hancock I (2004) Romanies and the Holocaust: a reevaluation and an overview. In: Stone D (ed.) The
Historiography of the Holocaust. New York: Palgrave Mcmillan, pp. 383–396.
Hirsh M (2008) The generation of postmemory. Poetics Today. 29(1): 103–128.
Immler N (2012) “Too little, too late?” Compensation and family memory: negotiating Austria’s Holocaust
past. Memory Studies 5(3): 270–281.
Jelin E (2003) The State Repression and the Labors of Memory. Minnesota, MN: University of Minnesota
Press.
Kapralski S (2007) The Holocaust in the memory of the Roma: from Trauma to imagined community? In:
Stillman L and Johanson G (eds) Constructing and Sharing Memory: Community Informatics, Identity
and Empowerment. Newcastle: Cambridge Publishers, pp. 114–123.
Kapralski S (2009) Jak Romowie pamiętają? Studia Romologica 2: 213–232.
Kapralski S (2013) The aftermath of the Roma genocide: from implicit memories to commemoration. In:
Weiss-Wendt A (ed.) The Nazi Genocide of the Roma: Reassessment and Commemoration. New York
and Oxford: Berghahn, pp. 229–252.
Keating M (2008) Culture in social sciences. In: Della Porta D and Keating M (eds) Approaches and
Methodologies in the Social Sciences: A Pluralist Perspective. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,
pp. 99–118.
122	 Memory Studies 13(1)
Keen E (2015) Mirrors—Manual of Combating Antigypsysm through Human Rights Education. Budapest:
Council of Europe.
Lemon A (2000) Between Two Fires: Gypsy Performance and Romani Memory from Pushkin to Postsocialism.
Durham, NC and London: Duke University Press.
Levi P (1989) The Drowned and the Saved. New York: Vintage International.
Margry P and Sánchez-Carretero C (2011) Grassroots Memorials: The Politics of Memorializing Traumatic
Death, New York and Oxford: Berghahn Books.
Milevska S (2011a) Artistic and theoretical strategies challenging racism. Red Thread. Available at: http://
www.red-thread.org/en/article.asp?a=62 (accessed 13 October 2015).
Milevska S (2011b) Call the Witness. Available at:https://archive.bakonline.org/en/Research/Itineraries/CallThe-Witness/Publications/Call-The-Witness
(accessed 5 November 2017).
Mirga-Kruszelnicka A, Acuña EC and Trojański P (2015) Education for Remembrance for the Roma
Genocide. Cracow: Wydawnictwo LIBRON.
Müller JV (2002) Memory and Power in Post-war Europe: Studies in the Presence of the past. Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press.
Raeesi K, Mershon GB and Matache M (2014) The Holocaust forgotten Roma victims. The Daily Beast,
13 September. Available at: http://www.thedailybeast.com/articles/2014/09/13/the-holocaust-s-forgotten-roma-victims.html(accessed
12 October 2015).
Reading AM (2012) The European Roma: an unsettled right to memory. In: Lee P and Thomas P (eds) Public
Memory, Public Media and the Politics of Justice. London: Palgrave McMillan, pp. 121–140.
Riano-Alcala P and Baines E (2011) The archive in the witness: Documentation in settings of chronic insecurity.
International Journal of Transitional Justice 2: 412–433.
Roma React (2015) Remembrance: rather a Nazi poet than the victims of the genocide, 20 August. Available
at: http://romareact.org/reports/view/2276 (accessed 12 October 2015).
Rosenbaum A (2009) Is the Holocaust Unique? Philadelphia, PA: Westview Press.
Roth KJ (2001) Holocaust Politics. London: Westminster John Knox Press.
Schmiedt M (2015) Genehmigung für Kunstinstallation wird nicht erteilt. In: Futschikato—Die verschwundenen
Roma und Sinti aus Kirchstetten und der “Fall Weinheber.” Available at: https://marikaschmiedt.
wordpress.com/futschikato-die-verschwundenen-roma-und-sinti-aus-kirchstetten-und-der-fall-weinheber/
(accessed 10 October 2015).
Sonneman T (2002) Shared Sorrows: A Gypsy Family Remembers the Holocaust. Hertfordshire: University
of Hertfordshire Press, p. 25.
Steinmetz S (1966) Österreichs Zigeuner im NS-Staat. Wien-Frankfurt-Zürich: Europa Verlang.
Stevens Q, Franck K and Fazakerley R (2012) Counter-monument: the anti-monumental and the dialogic.
Journal of Architecture 17(6): 951–972.
Stewart M (2004) Remembering without commemoration: the mnemonics and politics of holocaust memories
among European Roma. Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute 10(3): 561–582.
Tebbutt S (2006) History and memory: the genocide of the Romanies. In: Kenrick D (ed.) The Gypsies During
the Second World War, vol. 3. Hertfordshire: University of Hertfordshire Press, pp. 179–197.
Thurner E (2013) Continuities, breaks and breakthroughs. In: Bratić L, Gerbasits G, Hummer A, et al. (eds)
Romanistan Is Everywhere. Vienna: IG Kultur Österreich, pp. 14–19.
Vermeersch P (2006) The Romani Movement: Minority Politics and Ethnic Mobilization in Contemporary
Central Europe. New York and Oxford: Berghahn.
Vitale T and Claps E (2010) Not always the same old story: spatial segregation and feelings of dislike toward
Roma and Sinti in large cities and medium-size towns in Italy. In: Stewart M and Rövid M (eds) Multidisciplinary
Approaches to Romany Studies. Budapest: Central European University, pp. 228–253.
Von Seidl LM (2015) Vergangenheit Bewältigen. Nön, 30 September, p. 40.
Young J (1992) The counter-monument: memory against itself in Germany today. Critical Inquiry 18(2):
267–296.
Zafeiri A (2014) Two survivors of the Roma genocide share their stories. Open Society Foundation, 6 August.
Available at: https://www.opensocietyfoundations.org/voices/two-survivors-roma-genocide-sharetheir-stories
(accessed 3 October 2015).
Asavei	 123
Author biography
Maria Alina Asavei is a senior lecturer at the Institute of International Studies, Charles University in Prague.
She is also an Independent Curator of contemporary art and material culture and a Senior Researcher within
Primus Research Project titled “Beyond Hegemonic Narratives and Myths: Troubled Pasts in the History and
Memory of East-Central & South-East Europe” (Charles University). Her recent publications include “Nicolae
Ceausescu: between vernacular memory and nostalgia,” Twentieth Century Communism: A Journal of
International History, vol. 11, 2016, pp 27–42; “Participatory cultures of remembrance: the artistic memory
of the communist past in Romania and Bulgaria,” History of Communism in Europe, vol. 6, 2016, pp. 209–
230; and “Art and ‘Madness’: weapons of the marginal during socialism in Eastern Europe,” in Josie McLellan
and Juliane Fürst (eds), Dropping out of Socialism: The Creation of Alternative Spheres in the Soviet Bloc,
Lanham: Lexinton Books, 2016, pp. 63–83.