Wednesday 8 December 2010

1st auction: Manca Bajec Report

Christie's London, South Kensington:
OLD MASTER & DECORATIVE PRINTS


On the morning of the auction and the day before I had already been slightly nervous and self conscious. Just walking towards the auction house in South Kensington and standing in front of it, I felt maybe I was out of place but the reassurance that I had three people beside me made it better right away. I was actually a bit surprised they let us in, even though I had called the day before and asked. The place was a weird mixture of colonial like feel to the architecture together with a peculiar feeling of being surrounded from practically floor to ceiling by drawings and paintings. With parts of the space having low ceilings, it felt as if I was being drowned in art. We scattered around looking at some works before sitting down in one of the rows at the back.




I was completely amazed by how many people are physically involved in the auction. There were about 5 people on phones and the main auctioneer on a podium, that looked more like a pedastal and a somewhat aristocratic tone swept the room.People curiously positioned themselves around the room, some standing at a distance, some had moved their chairs away, as if to separate themselves from the rest, creating their own private world that eliminated any distractions. Many seemed quite anxious and some seemed as though it is a regular part of their day. 
Once the auction started, there was a certain excitement and when biding started I had wished I could have sat and some other end of the room, to better observe the bizarre techniques of bidding: the most common...the paddle raising, then there is the nod, the finger, the reverse nod, the hand and some other twitching ones that actually left me thinking I should sit on my hands, not to accidentally make some sort of bidding gesture. In a way, cutting the sound and adding some music, the whole situation might have actually looked like some kind of dance of gestures.


Manca Bajec


1st auction: Michele Drascek Report

Christie's London, South Kensington:
OLD MASTER & DECORATIVE PRINTS



It is Wednesday 8 December when we explore the world of the auctions at Christie’s. As we get into 85 Old Brompton Road, I am so attracted by the painting-filled corridor in front of me that, at first, I don’t direct my attention to the reception desk. I take my time for a first glance on the setting of the place. Then I ask some information to the receptionist to understand how to proceed to take part to the auction of the morning.



The entrance of Christie's at
85 Old Brompton Road, South Kensington.

We start to walk through the corridor, where most of the hanged painting are of English and German origin, are date back to XVII or XVIII century and are associated to Schools form different regions.

We move in direction of the room prearranged for the auction: a bright high-ceilinged room. On our left the Old Master and Decorative Prints are displayed on the wall, one close to another, almost frame to frame. On our right, the area dedicated to the telephone bidders, with tidy Christie’s employees preparing for the auction. Someone already have a bidder on line. In front of us the empty podium of the auctioneer. We have a backside seat.
I leave there my bag and I go to check the works on the wall. The first is a Canaletto (XVII Century), followed by a Carracci and a Mantegna (XVI Century), and then Tiepolo (XVIII Century). I can’t contain my happiness and complacency (personally, it feels like home). And I wonder where exactly these pieces are coming from. I proceed and a Van Dick is hanging there, a Dürer follows it and a Rembrandt is followed by a De Ribera (XVII Century). Definitely, I think, it could be a dangerous place for an art lover. I conclude my view with a beautiful Ensor of 1904 that will glance at me during all the next hours (it is a piece of the afternoon auction, Modern and Contemporary Prints).
During this morning session Christie's sells the lots form number 100 to number 307. All of them are presented in the Auction Catalogue avaiable at the reception desk. 

The catalogue of the auction:
London South Kensington
Old Master & Decorative Prints
Wednesday 8 December 2010


I go to my seat and I notice the monitors hanging from the walls: there they will display the works at auction, with the prize and the bids.

In the meanwhile some bidders entered in the room and took position: there is who took a seat (no one in the first row), who stands closed to the old masters displayed on the wall, who is still looking around and who move the seat at the back of the room, to be isolated from the others. Someone greets and other shakes hands: probably regular customers here at Christie’s. All the generations are represented.

The auctioneer enters and goes up the podium. He’s in suit, a classical and at the same time outstanding suit. An assistant stands on his left. After a brief introduction, the auctioneer suddenly starts. At the same moment, the first piece is presented and on the monitors around us are displayed the photo of the piece, some information about it and the starting prize. It takes few seconds and the prize changes already four or five times. It is an amazing ability that of the auctioneer to follow who bids, inviting the other to bid more, repeating the same structural formula and finally conclude with a curt hammer blow. At that it follows the writing on a paper: the number of the bidder on the work sold. In fact every bidder needs to register to bid and to obtain a number to make it possible. The auctioneer gives the paper to the assistant who, then, leave the room. At the same moment another assistant take his or her place. And so the auction runs, with a speed that I didn’t expect.


What surprise me are also the affordable prizes of some pieces. Some of them have a really good estimate prize from the start.
For example an etching by Albrecht Dürer (1471-1528) has the starting estimate prize of £500 - £700. And, as I can experience here, if it is your lucky day and no one is really interested in that particular artwork, you could also bring home a piece like that - as really it happens today - for £875.
For the detailed auction result for this artwork:
http://www.christies.com/LotFinder/lot_details.aspx?from=salesummary&intObjectID=5395677&sid=60ff1c5e-ad5a-4728-8c61-73ccfffa51ef


Another example is an etching by  Giandomenico Tiepolo (1727-1804). The achievable starting estimate prize is £1,000 - £1,500. At the end, the prize realised is £1,125. That particularly surprise me  and touch me. In fact, I have been used to appreciate the original artworks - mostly frescos - of the Venetian artist in Udine (Italy), just thirty minutes form Gorizia, city were I was born.
For the detailed auction result for this artwork:


The auction continues and I catch some of the different way to bid: a man is slightly moving the head, looking the auctioneer above his glasses; a person in charge for a telephone bidder antes up raising his arm; someone else bids, but I can’t say who: I don’t catch any movement, any change of position on the seat or a behaviour that can lead to recognize him or her.

The auctioneer, then, starts to ask to someone behind and above us if he or she wants to bid more. Curious, I turn and see no one. It happens again and I read on the monitors that who bids is named “Massachusetts”. This time, when I turn, I know what I have to look for and I find it on the wall at the back of the room: it is a video camera. Who bids in Internet has a direct video access and follows in real time the auction. Moreover, he/she/it (an Institution, maybe a Museum?) is focused only on one artist.
At the end, the Internet bidder from Massachusetts brings home a whole series of etchings by Rembrandt (1606-1669), for which he/she/it insistently raised the stakes.
The final investment comes to tens of thousands pounds.
What intrigue me is who could be on the other side of the video camera: a Museum that wants to build a Rembrandt collection and open a wing of a gallery dedicated specifically to the Dutch painter? Or just an art lover?

In the meanwhile, another bidder comes: a young man in his thirties. He doesn’t bid. He looks like he waits for one particular piece. Suddenly, he starts to bid on a Rembrandt, he heads to win and he gets it. He shows his number to the auctioneer, he stands up and he walks out of the auction. He staked all to one artwork and he overcame a telephone bidder, raising the biddings from the estimate prize of  £500 - £700 with persistence, till the final prize of £3.500.
For the detailed auction result for this artwork:
http://www.christies.com/LotFinder/lot_details.aspx?from=salesummary&intObjectID=5395723&sid=2adb8b65-bb7e-4473-9c39-f0e18baa4b8c


In front of me, an old couple tries to have an etching, but they fail. They try more times without result. By they insist, choosing the artworks with starting prize between £300 and £500 and never surmount the sum of £1.000. At the end, they get a print exactly for that maximum limit. They show their satisfaction and, moreover, their happiness and then leave the room. They don’t look like professional bidders, but like pensioners with – now - a significant present to celebrate their Christmas.

When we leave the auction and Christie’s, I feel excited for what I experienced: the artworks displayed and on sale, the procedure of the auction and the concrete possibility to possess an artwork for a reasonable prize. It is a starting point of a complex process. And it is pleasantly challenging.


- - - - - -


For the detailed auction results of the day, Wednesday 8 December 2010:
http://www.christies.com/LotFinder/searchresults.aspx?intSaleID=23191#action=refine&intSaleID=23191&sid=2adb8b65-bb7e-4473-9c39-f0e18baa4b8c

1st auction: Emma Moore report

Christie's London, South Kensington:
OLD MASTER & DECORATIVE PRINTS


We arrive, a little early and full of coffee. There's just the three of us, Michele, the tall and dapper Italian, Manca the pretty fur clad Slovenian and myself, the slightly nervous Irish. There's some hesitation as we hoover in the doorway debating over who should ask where we are supposed to go. Finally Michele asks a blonde lady behind the reception desk where this mornings auction is taking place. She gestures down the hall. We follow her instructions, walking slowly down the wide reception room, flanked on either side by what seems to be endless paintings and prints. The reception room narrows to a slope which leads down to narrow hall. The walls filled with paintings, some of which are being plucked from the safety of the wall by the hands of a curious man who examines them, holding them close to his face. We continue. We glance into an office to the left and catch a glimpse of a Rothko hanging unassuming amongst a stack of books and catalogues. Turning to the left at the end of the hall we reach the auction. The room is bright and freezing. There's air circulating from vents in the ceiling making sure everyone keeps their coats on and scarves high around their chins. The ceiling is high and the room has the feeling of a glasshouse, with windows running around the top of the room. To the back there's a large door through which numerous people have disappeared after keying something into a pad on the wall. The storage space I presume where a vast number of treasures are held waiting to be rehoused.

We take our spot somewhat to the back. There's plenty of seats to choose from. Being a morning auction, the room is far from full. Those who dare to venture in off the street can easily come to watch the event. The clientele  is mostly men, from their late forties well into their seventies. Some have staked out their territory to the sides. On our left a couple of gentlemen, not bothering with seats, have arranged themselves nicely. Throwing their coats over glass cabinets containing prints and papers and placing their catalogues down on top of them. They chat amongst themselves, probably feeling more comfortable than us in this situation which is familiar to them. A man, obviously not content sitting with the rest of the participants, takes his seat and moves it away from the rest, settling somewhere further to the back, floating in the space between the arranged  rows and the entrance.  To our right are the telephone bidders. They are corralled behind a waist hight counter, each with their own mobile phone and steely determination in their eyes. They chat a little with each other, waiting for the mornings activities to begin. They are dressed in suits and shirts, clever looking glasses on one man, long wavy hair on one of the younger women. At the end of the row of the counters, a woman speaks rapidly in french...no polish perhaps on her phone. There is nearly as many Christie's employees handling phone bids as there are public in the room.



The auctioneer emerges and takes position on a wooden podium. His pin strip suit and pink shirt are enough to wake anyone up who may have been short on their shot of caffeine this morning. He's lively and animated greeting the half full room with great enthusiasm from his raised platform. He surveys the audience and welcomes everyone to Christie's. It is impossible that any of us could have forgotten where we are, they've written the name on every possible surface. A young girl, perhaps a student or intern at the auction house stands to his left sporting a Christie's apron over her white shirt and black trousers and stern look of her face.  Milia, the fourth member of our newly formed collective arrives, a little later and somewhat flustered. Clutching a Christie's paddle, she takes her seat a few rows up from us.

Four television screens have been placed around the room, one in each corner. This is how the works are displayed. We watch people leaf through their catalogues, murmuring and scribbling notes. There's a man and a woman to right and few seats back. Another couple sit a few rows in front. Suddenly it begins.




           
“Lot 113..the....with...and I'm starting at 240,260,280....300pounds. I have 300pounds”

It all happened so fast, did someone bid, did I miss slight of hand? A twitch? A nod? I carefully look around but no one seems to be budging. How did he arrive from 240 suddenly to 300pounds? Within this time however the bids are flying straight out of the mouth of Tim, the Clark Kent lookalike situated right at the front of the action. He's keeping a firm gaze on the auctioneer and speaking quietly into his phone. The auctioneer accepts each bid and retorts with his own, pointing at his notes but eyes still on Tim. The exchange lasts no more than two to three minutes until the auctioneer accepts defeat with nothing left on his notes to point at, looks at his audience for another challenger for Tim but to no avail. Tim gracefully accepts his victory, passes word on through his phone and its on to Lot 114.

Emma Moore