Few artists have received as much criticism or acclaim as the controversial Vladimir Tretchikoff. After more than half a century, mention of his name still evokes a strong reaction. His painting The Chinese Girl is said to be the best-selling print of all time, having outsold even the Mona Lisa.Tretchikoff was of the opinion that those who dubbed his art kitsch, were merely jealous of his success. Well-known artist Beezey Bailey concurs that the elite art world ignored Tretchikoff because of his immense popularity with the working classes.Whether or not one thinks his work is kitsch, one has to admit that he was an outstanding success.Tretchikoff was born into a large family in Russia in 1913 but the country’s 1917 revolution found him orphaned and living in China by age 11. Although he had no formal training he supported himself through art.He entered a competition in his early teens and won. Doors opened after a newspaper carried his story and he found a job as a cartoonist at the Shanghai Evening Post. He was later offered work at the largest advertising agency in British Malaya.He moved to Singapore to take up the position and married his wife Natalie shortly thereafter. The next seven years were happy and his daughter Mimi was born in 1939.Tretchikoff’s work as cartoonist continued until he received a job offer he simply couldn’t refuse. He was working as chief of propaganda for the British Ministry of Information when World War II broke out.At 4.15am on December 8 1941, Japanese bombers took the city of Singapore by surprise. Women and children were swiftly evacuated — Natalie and Mimi among them. Under cover of darkness they joined a queue of crawling cars heading for the docks. After seeing them safely on board Tretchikoff stood at the quayside, miserable and alone, waiting for the ship to depart, destination unknown.The artist was evacuated a week later, but his ship was torpedoed by the Japanese before it reached its destination. Tretchikoff was listed “missing presumed dead”, but managed to escape on a lifeboat. More than three nightmarish weeks followed as the survivors rowed the open sea trying to keep the coastline in sight. Sunburnt by day, half frozen by night, exhausted and near starving, they lived in fear of being discovered. By day 23 they spotted the Java coastline and, some hours later, scrambled ashore — only to spot a newly erected poster announcing Japanese occupation. Tretchikoff was arrested and put into solitary confinement. His luck changed on release from prison, however, and he met a young Dutch artist who offered him the use of canvas, brushes and paints.With a restricted social life, limited entertainment and curfews, Tretchikoff was able to concentrate on his art as a means of survival. His portraiture was impressive and commissions came faster than he could deliver.Fate again intervened, this time in the shape of a young Eurasian woman who came to have her portrait painted. From the moment Tretchikoff set eyes on Leonora Frederique Henriette Moltemo, he was fascinated. Her father was Dutch, her mother Malay, resulting in an exotic beauty that the artist longed to capture on canvas. The first sitting was in his tiny room with barely enough space for easel, art materials or model. He decided to call her Lenka and as they chatted he discovered a cultured 28-year-old who was a qualified accountant, fluent in five languages.His first portrait of Lenka was a success and he invited her to model for him. His idea was for her to pose semi-nude with a jacket draped over her shoulders. After some deliberation she became as enthusiastic about the painting, referred to as The Red Jacket, as he was.The painting was followed by more studies evoking the mystique of the East and Trechikoff moved from his small room to a garden studio at Lenka’s house.The spacious studio allowed him the freedom to concentrate on his art and he produced some of his finest work during this period.Artist and muse fell in love and Lenka encouraged Tretchikoff not to sell his work so that when the war ended he could realise his dream to exhibit.Altough they lived in fear of raids, their love cocooned them from the harsh realities of war and the period held few distractions for Tretchikoff save art.The couple grew to depend on each other, but Lenka’s spiritual beliefs caused ripples in the relationship. She was deeply religious and had a passion for black magic and spiritualism. Tretchikoff teased her for taking her beliefs seriously until she called his bluff one day and asked: “If it’s such nonsense why don’t you come along and see for yourself?”The opportunity arose when Lenka asked friends who regularly held seances whether she and Tretchikoff could attend the next meeting. As the glass began moving, it spelled out the news that the artist’s wife and daughter were living somewhere in the South. It also predicted he would be internationally successful.When the war ended Tretchikoff stayed on the island, enjoying the atmosphere of the liberated city, because he still wasn’t sure where his family was.Lenka decided to help, and took him to the Red Cross where they discovered that Natalie and Mimi were living in Cape Town. Tretchikoff had last seen his daughter about five years previously. Amid heartbreak and tears, Lenka realised she couldn’t deprive a father of his little girl and convinced the artist to reunite with his family.Meanwhile, Lenka forged a successful career for herself in Europe and Burma and, although they kept in touch, the pair were only reunited in 1968 — when the artist invited his former model to attend an exhibition in London.As the crowds jostled to get Tretchikoff’s autograph and buy prints, Lenka was delighted to see the extent to which the artist had achieved his dreams of international recognition and financial success. It was another 30 years before they met again — this time in South Africa. They had been 28 when they first met. Both were now in their eighties but their friendship had stood the test of time.