The Croatian Adriatic coast comprises over 1,200 islands, islets, rocks and reefs. As it happened, one of them – the Island of St Catherine off the western coast of Istria – was home to one of the most important private collections of Polish art . At least, that was the case until 1922, when its owner, Count Ignacy Korwin-Milewski ( 1846–1926), one of the most distinguished Polish collectors of the late 19th and early 20th centuries, was forced – due to ill health and a deteriorating financial situation – to sell the collection .

St Catherine’s Island lies near Rovinj in Croatian Istria. Today, almost its entire area is occupied by a park rich in diverse vegetation, surrounding extensive hotel buildings, most of which were built or remodelled after the Second World War. At the heart of these lies the former residence of Korwin-Milewski – a Polish eccentric, political columnist, collector and patron of the arts. It was there that a magnificently situated palace stood, surrounded by a garden which Korwin-Milewski had commissioned to be created almost from scratch on a rocky island.

He remained associated with Rovinj for the rest of his life. The collection he amassed, however, was not – if one can put it that way – a mere collection of Polish paintings. It comprised over 200 paintings, and according to the exhibition catalogue prepared by the National Museum in Warsaw (2026), it originally comprised around 250 works. It was a collection assembled with great expertise—as *Świat* wrote in 1923—a truly monumental collection. Unfortunately, its dispersal could not be prevented.

The collector’s keen eye is evidenced , for instance, by the presence of such works as *Indian Summer* by Jan Chełmoński, *Peasant’s Coffin* and *Jewish Woman with Lemons* by Aleksander Gierymski, ‘Stańczyk’ by Jan Matejko, ‘Actors Before Hamlet’ by Władysław Czachórski, or ‘Fishermen’ and ‘Crayfish Fishing’ by Leon Wyczółkowski. The collection also included works by Józef Pankiewicz, Jan Stanisławski, Jacek Malczewski and other artists who were among the most important figures in Polish painting at the turn of the 19th and 20th centuries.

A challenging collector for artists

Alongside Aleksander Gierymski , whose work Korwin-Milewski particularly valued, there were also several canvases by another artist he favoured, Wincenty Wodzinowski . He was, however, a demanding collector, and at times even insistent. Franciszek Klein described this without mincing his words:

Gierymski in Munich – whenever Korwin-Milewski arrived – would lock himself away from him in his studio. Korwin-Milewski, who bought almost everything Gierymski painted, would often force his way into his studio. Similarly, Malczewski could not stand him, though this did not deter the passionate collector from carrying out his plan. It could be said that for a number of years around 1890, almost all the prominent Polish painters worked mainly for Korwin-Milewski.

This anecdote illustrates Korwin-Milewski’s paradox well: he was a patron, but one who did not always recognise the boundary between his passion for collecting and the pressure he exerted on the artist .

One of Korwin-Milewski’s ideas was to create a collection of self-portraits by Polish artists, both male and female . Among the works he collected was also, albeit unfinished, a self-portrait by Anna Bilińska-Bohdanowicz . The inspiration for this project was the famous collection at the Uffizi Gallery in Florence. Korwin-Milewski expected the works to have a uniform format , depicting the artists standing in the same pose – en face , shown in life-size , down to the knees, with a palette in their hand, which was a characteristic attribute of every painter. Jan Matejko , however, decided not to follow this path, creating a self-portrait of himself seated in an armchair .

Ultimately, the collector assembled a collection of 16 self-portraits by painters associated with the so-called Munich School , including a portrait of Aleksander Gierymski , whom he held in extremely high regard , as well as paintings by Teodor Axentowicz, Jacek Malczewski, Józef Piotrowski, Wincenty Wodzinowski and Franciszek Żmurka. This deliberately curated part of the collection has, unfortunately, not survived as a single collection, although some of the paintings were purchased by the National Museum in Warsaw in 1922. In *Sztuki Piękne* (1926/1927, pp. 421–432), Franciszek Klein wrote of the irreparable loss caused by the Polish government’s failure to purchase the Korwin-Milewski collection:

When Count Korwin-Milewski died shortly after the World War, his beloved gallery was threatened with sale. One might have expected our government to seize this unique opportunity and immediately purchase the collection offered for sale. However, things turned out differently. The collection was not purchased by the government, probably because those primarily responsible for doing so failed to adequately inform the decision-makers of the necessity of acquiring it. I am convinced that had the Department of Art been headed at that time by a man who took seriously the duties of the state’s highest official in the field of art and artistic culture, this catastrophe would not have occurred. Instead of the Department of Art overseeing such collections so that no changes to their composition could take place without its knowledge, the exact opposite occurred. The opportunity presented by the sale of the collection was completely squandered. It was simply picked apart, that is to say, sold off piece by piece in Vienna. Anyone who wanted to could buy them. Many of these superb paintings came into the possession of art dealers, who subsequently sold them on at a substantial profit. Among others, one of the Warsaw art dealers, Abe Gutnajer, acquired a number of paintings by A. Gierymski, Chełmoński, J. Brandt, A. W. Kowalski, L. Wyczółkowski, J. Matejko and others. One of the finest canvases, Matejko’s self-portrait, was purchased by the National Museum in Warsaw, which paid approximately twenty times the original price paid by A. Gutnajer. The other paintings met a similar fate. And so this exceptional collection ceased to exist. For Polish culture, this is an irreparable loss, as it will never be possible to assemble such a collection a second time. A small part of it – a dozen or so canvases – was acquired by a Viennese lawyer, a Pole, Dr Emil Merwin, from the Polish legation in Vienna. I saw the rest of this collection stored in the attic, in a tiny little room. There were fifteen self-portraits and a dozen or so large canvases by Malczewski, Wywiórski and Wodzinowski, including such magnificent works of art as A. Gierymski’s ‘The Angel of the Lord’ and Pruszkowski’s ‘Vision’. Truly, that room in the tiny attic cubicle, where these enormous canvases, leaning one against the other, are being crumpled, rubbed and destroyed – is appalling. On seeing this, I fled from there, for I could not bear to witness the destruction of such magnificent works of Polish art. A year or two ago, as I mentioned, Director Gembarzewski purchased a splendid self-portrait by Matejko for the Warsaw Museum. What a pity that the opportunity was not seized when the entire collection was for sale at a relatively low price. I am convinced that, with a little goodwill, the money would certainly have been found. But just as in the art department, here too there was a failure to realise the significance of this exceptional collection. Thus, the absence of responsible individuals with specialist knowledge in senior positions has caused irreparable damage to Polish culture.

Part of the collection was purchased by the National Museum in Warsaw, a significant portion was acquired by Abe Gutnajer, whilst further works found their way onto the market via dealers. Gierymski’s ‘Jewish Woman with Lemons’ was acquired by the Silesian Museum in Katowice in 1929. In practice, this meant the collection’s transition from the structure of a private gallery—built as a cohesive whole—to the dynamics of the art market: museum acquisitions, second-hand art transactions and the further circulation of individual paintings.

The collection as a programme

Ignacy Korwin-Milewski began building his collection around 1880, approaching it very consciously from the outset – as he himself wrote:

Wishing to have a collection that is more or less complete and constitutes an original whole, however modest in size, I must limit myself to certain frameworks, and as such I have chosen the specialism represented by the Neue Pinakothek in Munich. I therefore purchase paintings by fellow Polish artists who are currently living, and only from amongst those who belong or belonged to the Munich School.

An important feature of the Korwin-Milewski collection was its national character . And it is not merely that he bought works by Polish artists, but also the selection itself; he was primarily interested in the native landscape and historical scenes . This collection told the story of the endurance of Polish identity under foreign rule. On the other hand, Munich Realism seemed to him to be a remedy for excessive pathos and exaltation , which — in his view — all too often accompanied Polish artistic culture.

He believed that the time had come for great artists and individualists, whose work becomes the spirit of the nation and who – as he himself observed – ‘will probably have no successors’. Incidentally, for all his discernment, it must be admitted that he focused almost exclusively on artists from Munich ; indeed, he had known some of them well since his student days. And whilst he was perhaps a little sentimental in this regard, it also enabled him to build a very cohesive collection . Moreover, his excellent knowledge of this school allowed the Count to select outstanding works with remarkable precision.

An eccentric, a risk-taker, a sailor

‘A reckless risk-taker’ – as his brother Hipolit called him – was not, however, merely an eccentric living off the family fortune. Thanks to his organisational talents and financial intuition, he was able to manage his estate effectively and increase his income. His fortune ensured his independence, but also enabled him to undertake ventures that would have been virtually impossible without vast capital: travel, seafaring, art acquisitions, the construction of a residence and the creation of a private gallery.

After studying law in Dorpat, Korwin-Milewski enrolled at the Munich Academy in 1870 , where he realised that he had no chance of pursuing an artistic career . Thanks to his family’s wealth, however, he was able to afford to become a collector. During this time, he also acquired a count’s title at the Vatican, a title to which his family was also entitled. The family, however, did not appreciate this so-called honour, which may well have stemmed from family conflicts; suffice it to say that they would sometimes sign their names as ‘not a count’.

He led an eccentric and adventurous life, which was not without its scandals, such as his affair with the much younger Kraków beauty Cecylia Włodzimierska, who at the time was posing as his daughter. The affair ended in scandal, and Włodzimierska’s new suitor was shot by the Count. The press of the time described the incident as follows:

The newspapers are devoting entire columns to the scandalous affair between Ignacy Korwin-Milewski of Vilnius and Cecylia Włodzimierska, the divorced wife of an industrialist from Kraków. Włodzimierska, who had previously been in a relationship with Korwin-Milewski and travelled with him, demanded, through her lawyer Frischeiner of Vienna, the payment of the promised money and the return of compromising letters. Yesterday, Korwin-Milewski arrived in Vienna. Waiting for him at the station were Włodzimierska and a certain Barber, a young landowner from Bukovina. When asked to return the letters, Korwin-Milewski responded with verbal abuse. Barber struck him in the face. Milewski drew his revolver, fired several shots, wounding Barber in the stomach. Korwin-Milewski was arrested and brought before the criminal court. Today he was released on bail of 80,000 crowns on grounds of heart disease. Barber, who introduced himself as Włodzimierska’s fiancé, is not in any danger.

It was precisely following this scandal that Korwin-Milewski began to focus his attention more and more clearly on the Adriatic. In 1905, he purchased the island of St Catherine from Archduke Karl Stefan Habsburg of Żywiec, who had owned it for only a few years. This was no chance transaction. Both aristocrats were familiar with the worlds of sailing, travel and the arts, and Korwin-Milewski had previously bought a yacht from the Archduke, later renamed the ‘Litwa’.

However, he was not merely a scandal-monger and a collector. His political journalism was highly regarded , and in Vilnius he was also involved in social causes — amongst other things, he was one of the founding members of the first local ambulance service .

The island, the garden and the architecture

St Catherine’s was not a deserted island that Korwin-Milewski had merely ‘discovered’. It had a history of its own, including a past as a residential estate. It was only the Polish aristocrat, however, who transformed it into a private microcosm: complete with a palace, a garden, an art gallery and sailing facilities. Before him, the island belonged to Archduke Karl Stefan Habsburg of Żywiec, and this adds an extra artistic dimension to the story. Tadeusz Stryjeński worked for the Archduke , which is why his name was often mentioned in the past in connection with the reconstruction of the residence on St Catherine’s Island. However , Teodor Talowski’s name is more frequently associated with the work carried out during Korwin-Milewski’s time . The reconstruction partially utilised the palace already standing in the centre of the island, which had previously belonged to the Califfi family.

The project was no mean feat : soil was brought in to the rocky island to create a park, beaches were laid out, and the palace served as the crowning glory of the whole complex. In 2000, after years of neglect, it was rebuilt and converted into a hotel. However, its Classicist form is somewhat surprising given Talowski’s otherwise extravagant designs.

At first glance , the palace has a classicist character, but it is not a building that is entirely stylistically uniform. Its individual character is imparted, amongst other things, by the wooden staircase, the preserved chandeliers and the decorative flooring. It is reasonable to assume that the furnishings which have not been preserved also softened the austerity of the Classicist structure. Traces of this can be found in the remaining chandeliers and the decorative flooring. The second building on the island was designed from scratch by Talowski ; it stood near the dilapidated former monastery complex and was intended for Korwin-Milewski’s guests.

Failed attempts to save the collection

Regardless of the scandals and controversies in which the Count found himself embroiled, one cannot deny his artistry and intuition. Unfortunately, although he sought on several occasions to donate his collection to a public institution, he was unable to do so . For a time, the collection was housed in Vilnius at the Korwin-Milewski Palace , where it was open to the public. Later , he wanted to house it in Kraków, where in 1894 he planned to build a special pavilion for this purpose. However, the city refused to provide land for this purpose near Szczepański Square.

He then attempted to house it in Lviv . He regarded Kraków and Lviv as the places that were potentially the safest given Poland’s difficult situation. However, he found no understanding for his ideas. In the end , he decided to take it with him – firstly to show it around Europe, and then to house it in his residence in Rovinj. There, it was displayed in a special gallery set up in the palace, which – like the entire island of St Catherine – was a special place for him, no doubt chosen very deliberately.

Korwin-Milewski was an excellent sailor , a member of the Yachtgeschwader, an elite sailing club operating in Pula under the patronage of Emperor Franz Joseph. On his yacht ‘Litwa’, purchased from Archduke Karl Stefan of Habsburg, he enjoyed sailing the Adriatic. The name itself was no coincidence for an aristocrat with ties to Vilnius and the memory of the former Grand Duchy of Lithuania.

Commemoration

The celebrations marking the 170th anniversary of his birth and the 90th anniversary of the death of Ignacy Korwin-Milewski in 2016 provided an opportunity to organise, in Rovinj and on the island of St Catherine, a ceremony and a seminar dedicated to the collector . At that time, his gravestone at the cemetery in Rovinj was restored , and a commemorative plaque , designed by Marek Moderau , was unveiled on the wall of his former residence on the island . Those involved in the project included the Ministry of Culture and National Heritage, the Polish Embassy in Zagreb, the National Museum in Warsaw and the Polish Cultural Society ‘Fryderyk Chopin’.

Towards the end of his life, Korwin-Milewski’s fortune dwindled. Following the collapse of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, rapidly rising inflation significantly eroded his wealth . He died in a hospital in Pula in 1926 at the age of 81 and was buried in the cemetery in Rovinj.

His gravestone, in the form of a slab set on a plinth, is preserved there. The slab is made of marble said to have come from Ignacy Korwin-Milewski’s desk. The slab features a bas-relief of the Korwin-Milewski coat of arms and an inscription. During conservation work carried out in 2016, a glass panel bearing an image of Korwin-Milewski and his biography was placed behind the monument. It is worth noting that Korwin-Milewski’s heart was taken to Vilnius and laid to rest in his mother’s grave, which he had funded.

Current attempts to reconstruct the collection – in particular the exhibition ‘The Collector. Ignacy Korwin-Milewski (1846–1926)’, prepared by the National Museum in Warsaw in 2026 – show that Korwin-Milewski’s story is not merely an anecdote about an eccentric aristocrat. It is one of the key chapters in the history of Polish collecting, museum-making and modern artistic consciousness.