You’ve seen the face. Even if you don’t know her name, you know the gold. That shimmering, Byzantine-style mosaic of oil and gold leaf that defines Gustav Klimt's most famous work. It’s called The Woman in Gold, but her real name was Adele Bloch-Bauer.
She wasn't just a model. Honestly, calling her a "muse" feels like an understatement that strips away her actual power. Adele was a sharp-witted, chain-smoking intellectual who lived in a Vienna that was basically the center of the world before it all came crashing down. She and Klimt had a connection that people are still gossiping about over a century later.
Was it an affair? Maybe. Was it a business arrangement? Definitely. But the history of Adele Bloch-Bauer and Klimt is more than just a juicy rumor; it’s a story of stolen Jewish heritage and a legal battle that changed the art world forever.
The Woman Behind the Gold
Adele was born into the kind of wealth most of us can’t even imagine. Her father was the director of the Viennese Bank Association. She grew up in a world of velvet curtains and classical music, but she was bored out of her mind. Women in late 19th-century Vienna weren't exactly encouraged to be intellectuals.
She married Ferdinand Bloch, a sugar tycoon who was nearly twenty years older than her. It was a strategic alliance of two massive fortunes. They both added each other's surnames, becoming the Bloch-Bauers.
Adele was different. She was "sickly" and "frail," often suffering from headaches, but her mind was a steel trap. She hosted a salon where people like Gustav Mahler and Stefan Zweig would hang out. In a city obsessed with tradition, she gravitated toward the rebels. And nobody was more of a rebel than Gustav Klimt.
That Weird Tension in the Studio
When Ferdinand commissioned Klimt to paint Adele in 1903, the artist was already the "bad boy" of the Vienna Secession. He had a reputation for sleeping with his models. A lot of them.
Klimt took four years to finish the first portrait.
Four years.
He made over 100 sketches.
✨ Don't miss: How to Sign Someone Up for Scientology: What Actually Happens and What You Need to Know
Think about that for a second. That is an incredible amount of time to spend alone in a studio with someone. Some historians point to the erotic symbols in the painting—triangles, eggs, and "eyes" that look suspiciously like other anatomy—as proof they were lovers.
Others say Adele was too dignified for that. She had a crooked finger on her right hand that she was incredibly self-conscious about. If you look closely at the portraits, she’s always holding her hands in a way to hide it. It’s an intimate detail only someone who looked at her very closely would notice.
Adele Bloch-Bauer and Klimt: Why He Painted Her Twice
Adele holds a record that no other woman can claim. She is the only person Klimt ever painted in a full-length formal portrait twice.
The first one, finished in 1907, is the "Golden" one. It’s iconic. It’s the one where she looks like an Egyptian goddess trapped in a wall of jewelry.
But the second one? Adele Bloch-Bauer II, finished in 1912, is totally different.
- No gold leaf.
- Bold, vibrant colors.
- A wide-brimmed hat that makes her look like a modern woman, not a relic.
By the time the second painting was done, the vibe had changed. The world was on the brink of World War I. Adele was becoming more involved in socialist politics. She was donating money to help workers get an education. She wasn't just a trophy wife anymore; she was a woman with her own agenda.
The Theft That Hidden Her Name
Adele died young. She was only 43 when meningitis took her in 1925. In her will, she "kindly" asked her husband to donate the Klimt paintings to the Austrian State Gallery after he passed away.
🔗 Read more: Wire brush for cleaning: What most people get wrong about choosing the right bristles
But here is the thing: Ferdinand owned the paintings, not Adele. And then 1938 happened.
When the Nazis marched into Austria, they didn't just take people; they took everything. They "Aryanized" Ferdinand’s sugar company. They moved into his house. They took the paintings.
To make it worse, they hated that the most famous painting in Austria featured a Jewish woman. So, they just changed the name. They called it Die Goldene Adele and eventually just The Woman in Gold. They tried to erase her identity while keeping her beauty as a national trophy.
The Maria Altmann Factor
Fast forward to the late 1990s. Maria Altmann, Adele’s niece, was living in California. She was an old woman who had escaped the Nazis by the skin of her teeth.
When an investigative journalist named Hubertus Czernin discovered that the Austrian government’s claim to the paintings was based on a lie (they claimed Adele’s will was a binding gift, even though she didn't own the art), Maria decided to fight.
It was a David vs. Goliath situation.
Austria didn't want to give them back. They were the "Mona Lisas" of the country. But Maria and her lawyer, Randy Schoenberg, took the case all the way to the U.S. Supreme Court.
💡 You might also like: Images of Thanksgiving Holiday: What Most People Get Wrong
They won.
In 2006, the paintings were finally returned to the family. It wasn't just about the money, though the gold portrait eventually sold for $135 million to Ronald Lauder. It was about making sure the world knew that the woman in the gold was a real person with a real family.
Why This Still Matters in 2026
We’re still talking about this because the "restitution" of art stolen during the Holocaust is nowhere near finished. There are thousands of pieces still hanging in museums with "donated" labels that actually mean "stolen."
The story of Adele and Klimt is the blueprint for justice in the art world.
If you want to truly understand the legacy here, don't just look at the glitter. Look at the eyes. Adele looks tired, bored, and incredibly intelligent. She was a woman who was stuck in a golden cage, and Klimt was the only one who seemed to see her clearly.
How to Appreciate the History Now
If you’re interested in the real story, there are a few things you should actually do rather than just scrolling through photos:
- Visit the Neue Galerie in New York. That is where the first portrait lives now. Seeing it in person is a completely different experience than seeing a print. The gold leaf actually glows.
- Read "The Lady in Gold" by Anne-Marie O'Connor. It’s the definitive book on the subject and doesn't gloss over the darker parts of Viennese history.
- Check provenance records. If you’re ever in a major museum looking at early 20th-century European art, look at the "Provenance" or "History" section on the plaque. If it says it was "acquired" in the 1930s or 40s in Germany or Austria, there’s likely a story there that hasn't been fully told yet.
The gold is beautiful, sure. But the truth about who Adele was—and what was taken from her—is what actually gives the art its value.
Search for the second portrait, Adele Bloch-Bauer II, to see the contrast. While the first portrait represents the height of Klimt's decorative "Golden Phase," the second shows his transition into a more expressive, color-focused style. It’s currently in a private collection but often goes on loan to museums like MoMA. Comparing the two is the best way to see how both the artist and his subject evolved over a decade of friendship and creative collaboration.