Koczy was born March 5, 1939, in Recklinghausen, Germany, the eldest daughter of Martha Wusthoff and Karl Koczy. Her parents were both Roman Catholics, however they were ethnically / racially Jews, and as such were subject to Nazi persecution. According to her memoir, Koczy was deported in 1942 at the age of 3, surviving two concentration camps, first at Traunstein and then at Ottenhausen. Fifty years after the war's end she wrote of that time:
We worked in the fields every day. I saw the killings, the shavings, the bleachings, the torture and hunger, the cold, typhus, tuberculosis. Death was all around!
Remaining at Ottenhausen for several years after its liberation in 1945, she was raised afterwards by her maternal grandparents, her mother briefly and several foster families and orphanages. In 1959 Koczy left Germany for Geneva, Switzerland. She was accepted into the in 1961, where she received her diploma with distinction four years later. Koczy's first marriage ended in divorce. She married composer Louis Pelosi, whom she had met at the MacDowell Colony, in 1984. She became an American citizen in 1989. Koczy created a community art school outside of Geneva in the 1970s and in Croton-on-Hudson, New York, where she taught privately over the last twenty years of her life. After 1995 she gave free lessons to elderly and disabled residents of in Ossining, where she supplied materials, arranged shows and acquisitions. The couple also hosted annual art and music gatherings in their home for many years. She died December 12, 2007, in Croton-on-Hudson, New York. A photo of her gravestone can be found on page 168 of the book Rosemarie Koczy: the Shroud Weaver. In November 2017, during an exhibition of more than 100 of her works bequeathed to the city of Recklinghausen, her life story was examined by a local historian and a town official, who claimed that her memoir had been forged. Subsequent examination showed, however, that most of these allegations were false, and the remaining ones were unproven.
Art
Concentrating upon tapestry, she mounted two solo museum exhibitions in Geneva ; she produced more than seventy fiber works in fifteen years. During this time she also met Peggy Guggenheim, who commissioned a tapestry from her and introduced her to Thomas Messer, then-curator of the Guggenheim Museum. In the mid 1970s she began her works dealing with the Holocaust. In 1980, Koczy accepted a fellowship to the MacDowell Colony and started creating pen-and-ink drawings memorializing Holocaust victims. She had created more than 12,000 of these drawings before her death. In her later years Koczy insisted they be shown only accompanied by a statement in English, French, and German which begins: "The drawings I make every day are titled 'I Weave You A Shroud.' They are burials I offer to those I saw die in the camps." She also completed hundreds of paintings, wood sculptures, and other works on the subject. She was the first female recipient of the Francis Greenburger Award, chosen and presented by Thomas Messer at the Guggenheim in 1986. Koczy's work is housed in institutions such as the Guggenheim, the Illinois Holocaust Museum and Education Center, the Milwaukee Art Museum, the , the Collection de l'art brut in Lausanne, , in Bonnigheim, in Kyoto, , the , , in Gent Belgium and Yad Vashem, the Israeli Holocaust Memorial Museum in Jerusalem. An exhibition of over 100 of her works ran at the City University of New York - Queensborough Community College Art Gallery in 2013-2014, accompanied by a monograph dedicated to her work. Of her art, Goya scholar Fred Licht has written:
Koczy's drawings have a moral aspect... One receives the impression that she feels it her duty to execute, and duty cannot exist without a sense of moral responsibility.
I once saw a wall display of several dozen of these images... The combination of ceaseless proliferation and searing emotion made an impact that struck to the very core of human feeling.
Thomas Messer wrote:
Koczy's art, in the last analysis, speaks to us through formal authority and through convincing resolution, leaving us thereby in a state of catharsis, uplifted and hopeful.
