A couple days before the sale I contacted a few of my clients about some interesting items coming up for bid Christie's "Important American Furniture & Folk Art" auction scheduled January 16, 2004: an 18th century ball & claw foot Philadelphia tea table, a 19th century cast iron fire back decorated with a witch flying on a broomstick, an American Queen Anne lowboy, a Chippendale reverse serpentine desk and several important weathervanes including one shaped like the angel Gabriel. "I think there'll be some bargains," I said. "The antique economy is still at the bottom of a trough. And with all competition going on (it was "Antique Week" in New York City with numerous shows and sales occurring simultaneously) a few mid-level pieces just might slip through the cracks."
Most people assume bargains cannot be had at top tier shops and auction halls. I, being a contrarion – one who doesn't run with the pack – assume exactly the opposite. Pinnacle dealers get to the top by passing along their great discoveries and good buys to loyal clients. Top auction houses make money by satisfying patrons at both ends of the spectrum.
My "slip through the crack" and "contrarion" philosophy toward making good buys at auctions goes something like this: concerning auctions jam-packed with great antiques, most collectors and believe it or not – dealers - psyche themselves out before the sale ever starts. The majority does not attend to begin with. Instead they'll drive hundreds of miles to ferret out that same advertised "sleeper" everybody else is out to steal at, some country auction jam-packed with hundreds of bargain hunters. Bargain hunters who'll find no bargains at all once all those hands go up in the air. Regarding those who do find their way into a high-grade auction preview, many don't attend the sale and almost all do not inspect carefully. "The stuff is great here," they'll say, "but it's going to go through the roof. All the famous dealers and millionaire collectors come to these sales."
No they don't. And regarding those who do, they tend to be a selective bunch; going strongly after those items they covet but usually ignoring everything else. That's why I assume everything within my and my customers' range of interest is going to go cheap and inspect suitably. In almost every business and endeavor, if you take a positive attitude and work accordingly, something good will happen. Something you thought was unattainable will fall through the cracks.
About noon Friday morning, I had purchased many of the pieces I had come for. Most at a price a lower than I was willing to pay. Reason being: there were only about seventy-five people in the audience. From what I heard, bidding was a little on the soft side at Sotheby's too, holding a sale the same morning.
New York City's January "Antique Week" is often cited as a bellwether gauge of the coming year. If that holds true, the antique industry will make a strong upturn this year. Attendance was brisk at the shows and people were buying across the board. While the big auctions may have started slow, they finished strong, totaling well over 10 million dollars in their Americana sales.
One of the highest lots, "#435: The Harden-Ropes Family Chippendale Mahogany Bombe Chest of Drawers" was purchased by me. Well, not really.
When you register to bid at an auction you receive a bidding number used to record sales. At my auctions we use printed cards. At Christie's they use plastic paddles. After a lunch break, Christie's crowd increased four-fold. Hundreds of sharply dressed dealers and collectors were packed into the hall so empty in the morning. When I got outbid on a blockfront secretary, my buddy George commented that my bidding number was not the same as I had been using in the morning session. "You were 377 or something," he said. "Now you're 517." Before we had figured out what had happened, lot number 435 came up for sale. "Do we have half a million dollars to start with?" the auctioneer said. One of the most famous antique dealers of all time, Albert Sack was now sitting right in front of me. Sitting to his left was an immensely successful dealer and auctioneer, Ron Bourgeault. Sack's hand went up in the air. When bidding exceeded the million-dollar level, George's eyes got real big. "Look at his paddle," George said.
Mr. Sack was bidding with paddle number 377 – my number. Somehow our paddles had been switched. I considered interrupting Mr. Sack to tell him of the mix-up; before my registered number and account purchased a six-figure chest of drawers. I decided against it. Men spending that kind of money do not like to be interrupted. When the bidding finally ended around 1.9 million dollars, Mr. Sack raised his paddle. "Sold!" the auctioneer said, "to bidder number three-hundred and seventy-seven!" I gulped, thinking about how I was going to raise the subject to the men in front of me. George laughed. "Well, I hope Sack likes that Gabriel weathervane he bought this morning," he said.
"Know anybody who needs a nice chest for their bedroom?" I replied.
Upturn Seen for Antiques Market in 2004
Write to
Wayne Mattox
Like AntiqueTalk?
Recommend it to a friend!
Copyright © 1995 - 2006 Wayne Mattox
Home | Columns | On-Line Auctions | Our Shop | Appraisals
Events and Lectures | Wayne Mattox | Woodbury
