It has been a full year since we lost Jen Gramer. It has been a full year without Jen’s warm heart, sharp sense of humor, and vivaciousness. One year later, a line from her obituary rings true: “Jen’s spirit will never die because of the many lives she touched.” As a friend, colleague, and intellectual collaborator, Jen’s legacy lingers with me.
When I first learned about Jen’s passing on August 1, 2023, after a 14-month fight against cancer, I immediately searched for traces of her. I furiously read through emails that we exchanged over several years, searching for her witty, incisive voice. I re-read article drafts and seminar papers that we shared with one another and research dispatches to one another from our respective archives. In searching for Jen, I was reminded of how large her influence on both my intellectual and personal trajectories. As young history graduate students both interested in the politics of memory, we collaborated on several projects (including an extremely well-attended AHA panel in 2019 on WWII memory and visual culture), shared seminar paper notes, and read each other’s dissertations. Importantly for me, she told me about the Goethe Institute and helped me apply for the DAAD fellowship to study the German language. Thanks to Jen, I spent a glorious summer in Berlin, where I formed some of the most important friendships of my life.
Jen was a visionary when it came to German memory politics. When I taught a course on memory and visual culture in 2018, Jen gave a brilliant guest lecture on the concept of the Zero Hour (Stünde Null) in Germany and the involvement of both the US and Soviets in framing German concepts of culpability and guilt. She asked my students to watch Wolfgang Staudte’s 1946 film, The Murderers are Among Us (Die Mörder sind unter uns) as an early example of East German memory work (Vergangenheitsbewältigung). I still teach this film in my courses, drawing on Jen’s insights about German postwar memory and American and Soviet occupation.
In my quest to remain close to Jen, I read Jen’s full PhD dissertation, “Monuments to German Baseness” alongside Skye Doney and Lou Roberts. Jen completed her PhD in 2021. Her study is based on several years of archival research in Germany as a Fulbright scholar and in Washington D.C., Colorado, and Portland, Oregon. Broadly, Jen’s research looked at responses to the material remnants of Nazism and debates in the US and Germany over what to do with them from the postwar period into the 1990s. Jen’s most groundbreaking insights regarding memory came from studying American responses to Nazi art after World War II. Both Jen’s MA thesis and dissertation dealt with the thorny question of remembering the Nazi past through images, objects, and spaces. In her research, Jen examined how both Americans and Germans responded to Nazi art both in the immediate aftermath of World War II, and into the 1990s. Principally, her work examined how US and German officials dealt with Nazi art and how such art sparked dialogue about the German and American pasts and present.[1]
At the heart of Jen’s dissertation is US Army Captain Gordon W. Gilkey and the German War Art Collection. In 1945, in the immediate aftermath of the Second World War, Gilkey oversaw the confiscation of so-called “Nazi art.” He brought 9,000 works of art to the United States, where they were held in a US military facility in Northern Virginia. Although much of the collection was returned to West Germany during the Cold War, the US still holds many pieces of Nazi art, including the famous painting Der Bannertrager. These works of art continue to be officially inaccessible to the public–deemed too ideologically dangerous either to warrant public display or to return to Germany. While this collection, and other smaller ones in the US, including in Colorado, do contain propagandistic works meant to heroize Hitler and the Nazi regime, they also include images created by the Kriegsmaler, a unit of the Wehrmacht. The Kriegsmaler, or war painters, created art during tours to the war front. However, much of their art did not glorify war or Nazism; rather, they pictured everyday scenes, including landscapes. The inclusion of the Kriegsmaler artwork begs the question of: what defines Nazi art? In this case, Gilkey and the GWAC took an expansive view, ensnaring all art created under Nazism as ideologically tainted. Jen uncovered that many Kriegsmaler advocated for the return of their artwork over time. Artists argued that their work was just art, not politically or ideologically motivated. Rather than take up arms, these men chose to paint. Jen found that Gilkey eventually also advocated for the return of the Kreigsmaler artwork to their rightful owners.
A big question that drives Jen’s work is not just what to do with Nazi art, but also what IS Nazi art to begin with? What is art’s relationship with politics and ideological extremism? Is all art produced under fascism necessarily fascistic? Much of this work was so mundane in its themes and realistic in style that Americans actually liked the art. In fact, she notes that the US military inadvertently used the GWAC to furnish office spaces.
Jen had an innovative approach to how Germans and Americans grappled with the visual and material remnants of a dark and difficult past. Her work was in dialogue with similar debates about what to do with Confederate monuments in the United States. This year, in my course on the Politics of Memory in Europe at Notre Dame, I repeatedly shared lessons from Jen’s research about dealing with the symbols of a racist political order. In a unit about what to do with historical remains (including debates over confederate monuments), I recounted Jen’s research on the US seizure of Nazi art and artifacts immediately after the end of the Second World War–art deemed so ideologically “dangerous” that it could not remain in German hands, indeed not even on the European continent, and had to be locked away in US holdings, presumably to prevent these images from inspiring a new rise of Nazism. Amidst debates over what to do with Confederate monuments, Jen’s work offered an incisive additive: U.S. troops believed that the signs of Nazism had to be removed. Taking down the signs and symbols of Nazism was an important part of the denazification process.
In her work, Jen argues that Germany’s coming to terms with the past (the infamous Vergangenheitsbewältigung) was a process mediated throughout the Cold War by the United States. By determining what kinds of art were “dangerous” and preventing Germany from possessing their art, the US directed West German memory work, at least in the arts. However, paradoxically, Jen finds that Germany did not know what to do with this art either. In the 1960s, the US returned much of the collection to the West German Konrad Adenauer government. Adenauer left the art languishing at a German port for years before the German state finally placed it in another storage facility in Munich. While Jen also traces German attempts to display Nazi art through a pedagogical lens during this time, Nazi-era art repeatedly finds itself in the warehouse of history.
Jen’s work makes an important and original contribution to the study of German memory. As she writes, “Vergangenheitsbewältigung is not just a German story…The U.S. steered, consciously and unconsciously, the process of ‘coming to terms with the past’ in Germany through this artwork. The works’ historical trajectory was a mirror for both the U.S. government’s and public’s fears and desires, especially as inflected by the Cold War, regarding the relationship between Germany’s past and the U.S.’s present and future, and one that was heavily inflected by the Cold War.” Thus, as American officials struggled with what to do with Nazi art–the material vestiges of a dark political past–they implicitly struggled with their dark histories and the possibility of the rise of violent ideological extremism in the United States.
The critical importance of these questions remains palpable in the US and Germany. The US continues to struggle over what to do with Confederate monuments, especially since 2015. According to the Southern Poverty Law Center, nearly 2,000 Confederate monuments remain standing in the US. In Germany, these debates are still ongoing. In an August 2024 article, the New York Times reported on the German difficulty in managing Joseph Goebbels’s villa near Berlin. Reportedly too tainted to give away, the German government has allowed the villa to stand on the public’s dime and fall into disarray. However, when they tried to just give it away, their worst fears came true as a right-wing group was one among many jockeying to take ownership of the site. Unfortunately, we cannot know how Jen would have incorporated these continued challenges over the Nazi past into her book project.
Those interested in Jen’s work can access her full dissertation here. Jen also published an article from her dissertation about Captain Gordon Gilkey and the history of the German War Art Collection in the Intellectual Journal of Cultural Property, published by Cambridge University Press. You can read her article, entitled “Monuments of German Baseness: Confiscated Nazi War Art and American Occupation in the United States and Postwar Germany,” here. I invite you to read her work.
Rereading Jen’s work highlighted for me how much her friendship and camaraderie shaped my intellectual development. Reading her work, I was struck by how often I stumbled across big questions about memory and visual culture that we had poured over together as graduate students. I was reminded that these conversations with Jen shaped the ways that we thought about memory and difficult pasts. Jen’s influence on me is present in how I think, write, and teach about memory.
Jen impacted all of us in different ways. As friends, we shared many laughs and gin and tonics at bars throughout Madison. When a long-term relationship fell apart in 2013, Jen was by my side. She taught me the ropes of online dating and helped me through an otherwise dark time in my life. When I posted about Jen on Facebook after learning about her passing, friends commented about how she “made online dating actually fun,” and influenced others to try to pull off a bob haircut and red lipstick–her signature look. From the multitude of stories shared since her death, it is obvious that Jen will never be forgotten as friend or historian and that she continues to live on through each of us.
As you once used to sign off on your email dispatches from Germany: Big hugs, liebe Grüße, and I miss ya.
[1] Jennifer Gramer, “’Monuments of German Baseness:’ The Legacy of Nazi-Era Art in Germany and the United States from 1945 to the Present,” Dissertation submitted to the University of Wisconsin-Madison, 2021. Gramer, “Monuments of German Baseness”? Confiscated Nazi war art and American occupation in the United States and postwar Germany, International Journal of Cultural Property 28(3) 2021: 425-446. doi:10.1017/S094073912100031X
Abigail Lewis is the Executive Director of the Council for European Studies at Temple University. Before starting at Temple, she was the Director of Studies at the Nanovic Institute for European Studies at the University of Notre Dame, where she oversaw student research and grant programs, organized experiential learning, and taught courses in Global Affairs. In the past, she also contracted with the Campus Outreach Division of the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum, where she developed teaching materials and workshops for faculty focused on Holocaust pedagogy. A historian by training, her research and teaching expertise focus on visual culture and the politics of memory in France. Her work traces how photographs shape memories of Nazi occupation and the Holocaust in France. She received her PhD in History in 2022 from the University of Wisconsin-Madison.
Obituary:
Jennifer Ann Helen Gramer
31 January 1988 – 1 August 2023
Dr. Jennifer Ann Helen Gramer died peacefully on August 1, 2023, at the age of 35, following a courageous and determined year-long fight against cancer. But Jen’s spirit will never die because of the many lives she touched with her warm smile, keen mind, and generous heart.
Jen was born in Boise, Idaho on Super Bowl Sunday, January 31, 1988, at the kickoff between the Washington Redskins and Denver Broncos. The timing of her entry into the world was ironic as she never had much interest in sports, except for the Portland Timbers. Her paternal grandmother was so happy that she finally had a baby girl in the family that she sent a “Thank You” balloon to the hospital instead of flowers.
Jen’s parents, Julie and Rod Gramer, were especially thankful for Jen because they had waited a long time to have a child. Jen’s birth and life was a blessing and a miracle for which they will always be grateful.
Jen had an independent and vivacious spirit. She had a brilliant mind, a strong sense of what she wanted, and a determination to succeed at whatever she took on, whether playing the piano, learning a foreign language, or acing her schoolwork from elementary school through her university studies.
Jen had a zest for life, wanderlust for new horizons, and a radiant smile that could warm up a room. She also had a wry and ironic sense of humor that made others not only laugh but feel comfortable in her presence. She had an empathetic ear for those who needed one and wisdom beyond her years. As a friend said after her death, “Even at the end of her life Jen was always sensitive to what those she loved needed from her, and she would give it to them.”
Jen excelled academically at Sunset High School in the Beaverton, Oregon School District where she edited the school paper, played tennis, and joined the ski team. She finished as a Valedictorian of her graduating class.
Jen went on to Syracuse University where she received a prestigious, full-ride Coronat Scholarship and majored in History and Art History.
Jen graduated Summa Cum Laude from Syracuse where she racked up a collection of distinguished academic awards. She was named a History student of Distinction; a Hotchkiss Prize recipient; a Wortman Scholar; a Renee Crown Honors student; one of four Syracuse Scholars; and a Remembrance Scholar, one of the university’s highest honors. One of the highlights at her graduation was a special honors ceremony where Jen was recognized for writing the best honors thesis in the College of Arts and Sciences – and the best honors thesis of any graduating senior at the university.
After graduating from Syracuse, Jen selected the University of Wisconsin in Madison to work on her doctorate in History. She chose Wisconsin because it has one of the leading German History programs in the nation.
While working on her doctorate, Jen was selected as a Fulbright Scholar – one of 819 Fulbright Scholars in the history of the University of Wisconsin. She used the Fulbright to spend two years in Germany working on her doctoral dissertation on how the Nazis used art as a propaganda tool and how the German government and society have dealt with the memories and horrors of Nazism since the war.
As in so many other ways, Jen was ahead of her time. She saw the importance of “memory” and “memorials” as a statement on the past long before Confederate art, statues and military bases named after rebel generals became a divisive issue in the United States. Her research was so compelling, that she was invited to present papers on the subject in several U.S. cities and in Israel and England.
After receiving her doctorate, Jen decided to stay in Madison, a city she loved, and help other students achieve their academic dreams. She saw helping undergraduate students decide which degree to pursue as a means of giving back and helping others. Through word of mouth, many students sought Jen out to be their academic advisor. Even as she fought a valiant and grueling battle with cancer and her strength waned, Jen kept working with students up to the final weeks of life.
Jen was a person with many interests. To say that she was a movie buff is an understatement. It seems as if she had seen every major film of the past 60 years, knew every director’s style, and could recite every cast list and plot twist of any movie you mentioned to her. She also loved music and her playlist was a banquet of the top-tier modern music ever produced – The Beatles, Fleetwood Mac, Linda Ronstadt, Duran Duran, Mavis Staples, Adele, Annie Lenox, and many more.
As news spread that Jen was dying, messages flowed in from professors, fellow graduate students and university administrators. “I was always so happy to see you in my office because you just radiate warmth and have a generosity of spirit that makes everyone around you smile,” wrote one person. A professor who served on her dissertation committee wrote, “It’s always a privilege to serve on dissertation committees, but rare are the instances in which I feel genuinely lucky to have been part of the process – and proud to have my name on the cover page. Yours is exactly such a case.”
A fellow graduate student wrote, “Your friendship helped me survive what was one of the hardest times in my life.” Another wrote, “You should be sustained knowing how many you have touched and enlightened with your joy, curiosity, and energy. You, Jen, are truly unforgettable.”
Jen was preceded in death by her paternal Grandmother Virginia Ruth Gramer (Grammy) of Boise, and her maternal Grandmother Mary Jean Simis (Nanna) and Grandfather Donald L. Simis (Boppi) of Gooding, Idaho. She was also preceded in death by her uncle, Harold Gramer of Tempe, Arizona.
She is survived by her parents, Julie and Rod Gramer of Boise, and her brother Robbie and his wife Kelsey of Washington, D.C. She is also survived by her cousins, Rose Cole (Michael) and their children Jaime and Sam; Anna Halverson (Brett) and their daughter Lucy; and Molly Wilkinson (Jimmy), and their children Beau and Josey; Steffi Simis of Bamberg, Germany; and Brian Simis (Xiao) and their children Mia and Daniel of Dublin, Ireland. She is also survived by her close friend, Kevin Eggleston, of Washington, D.C.
Jen is also survived by her uncles, Rick Simis of Perryville, Maryland, and Rob Simis (Teresa) of Bristol, Virginia. And she is survived by her Aunt Mary Ellen Simis of Fairmont, West Virginia; Aunt Joan Harchelroad, of Bristow, Virginia; and Aunt Gisela, of Bamberg, Germany.
Jen had a life-long love of cats. While living in Madison she was a foster caregiver for cats from Angel’s Wish, a cat shelter. One weekend she took home a foster cat named Lily and fell in love with her. Jen and Lily were inseparable the rest of her life. With Jen’s wholehearted approval, her dear friend Kevin adopted Lily after she passed away.
Our family wants to thank Dr. Marina Sharifi under whose skillful and compassionate care Jen fought her battle against cancer. We also want to thank the caring and dedicated nurses who served Jen with joy and compassion over these many months. Their caring professionalism gave Jen strength and comfort.
On the morning Jen died, a full Sturgeon Moon rose over Lake Monona and the city of Madison. At 6:27 a.m., with her parents by her side holding her hand, Jen passed away peacefully.
A few days before passing, Jen’s cousin Anna and her daughter Lucy visited her bedside. Jen had a special place in her heart for Lucy. Jen told her, “Lucy, every night when you look up at the moon, I’ll be waving to you.”
Our family hopes that when the many people Jen touched and loved look at the moon, they will think of her. If they do, they might just see Jen waving back at them.
A Celebration of Jen’s Life will be held August 19 at the Fluno Center, 601 University Avenue, on the University of Madison campus starting at 11 a.m. At Jen’s request, a second Celebration of Life will be held September 16 in Portland at the Oregon Historical Society, 1200 S.W. Park Avenue, starting at 5:30 p.m.
In lieu of flowers, Gifts in memory of Jen may be made payable to the ‘UW Foundation’ with a note to direct as a tribute to the Jennifer A. Gramer Scholarship Fund (#132540178). Mail to: UW Foundation, US Bank Lockbox Box 78807 Milwaukee, WI 53278-0807. Gifts can also be made online at http://supportuw.org/giveto/JenGramerMemorial