Ceija’s incredible life force: her fierce humour, particularly in her caricature of Adolf Hitler (Now you're done for. Heil – Here we come), and some expressions of a hope that survives and will continue to survive no matter what, such as the proud, green tree on the right of Vienna-Auschwitz. It accompanies the unspeakable convoy (should we see a likeness with the caravans on previous paintings?) as it winds its way into a childlike yet apocalyptic landscape, where swastikas and machinery meld into one implacable mechanism.
IN THE CAMPS
The Stojka family were deported to Auschwitz, where they were registered on March 31st, 1943 and held in section B-II-e, known as the "Gypsy family camp". We see through the eyes of the young Ceija, just ten years old Monstrous, oversized SS boots fill the foreground. She frames her pictures in such a way as to show only parts of her torturers, denying them the right to be whole. Unusual, arresting angles are a constant in Ceija's work: subjects are viewed at ground level, as if by a dead person, or instead from the sky, as though seen by a spirit floating above the camps, or indeed a bird – free, in either case. Many are shown from the other side of the barbed wire that bars the canvas, the viewpoint of an imaginary escapee, or a helpless witness. Further along we see more examples of her tremendous evocative force: Birkenau KZ, 1944 tells of a child standing on tiptoe, only to discover the chimneys through windows deliberately set too high. Z 6399, an astonishing, sharply modern composition featuring Ceija’s roll number - the tattoo inflicted on her, and on every deportee, upon arrival at Auschwitz and something she never hid on any photograph. The Z stands for Zigeuner.