Auction Sale Review: Bonham’s New Bond Street sale of Fine English Furniture and Works of Art 03/03/10

Claire Brentnall

The persuasive tone adopted by the auctioneer at the Bonham’s sale of Fine English Furniture and Works of Art, held the attention of the small but expectant crowd. Many of the pieces up for sale, such as lot 35, A George II mahogany Wine Table,[1] or lot 98, A late George III mahogany three-tier Dumbwaiter,[2] would most likely at the time of their production have been acquired as commodities or as objects embodying a “transient”[3] value: their economic worth decreasing with wear and tear. In the 18^th Century, there was certain vivacity over furniture and curios that had been imported from the East and from Europe, and a strong sense of “Italy worship”[4] led British collectors to keenly decorate their interiors in a lavish style. Native talent was less exciting to the 18^th Century English buyer (before the likes of Chippendale became highly popular amongst the wealthy during the 19^th Century), a notion that contributes to the now “durable”[5] value of the items at the Bonham’s auction. In all kinds of collecting, whether it is of art, furniture, or curiosities, fashion contributes to the scarcity value of an item.[6] Now, in a modern world that is growing smaller due to ever evolving advancements in communication and travel, imported items are not so exotic or rare, and buyers now compete for lucrative investments in home-grown luxury goods.

“Any more?”, “Last time?” the auctioneer queried whilst calmly gesturing across the room, making deliberate eye contact with bidders, trying to squeeze out that extra £500 by tantalisingly delaying the bang of the hammer.[7] “Sold!” and successful bidders were congratulated on their purchases. However, this was not an auction of particularly high stakes or shock buys, pieces being sold for no more than £10,000. This may have had something to do with the lots largely being pieces “in the manner of” the original masters such as Chippendale, Sheraton or Gillows. Lot 81: A pair of George III Irish embossed Bird Pictures in the manner of Samuel Dixon was sold for £4,560, in comparison to lot 82: A George III Irish embossed Bird Picture by Samuel Dixon, the single print selling for £3,360, nearly as much as the previous pair. Consulting the catalogue hoping to find the artist behind lot 81, I discovered a footnote informing me of the provenance of the pictures, and directing me to “See lot 82 for a catalogue note on Samuel Dixon.”[8] It is a legitimate attribution and provenance that gives the item its economic value, and offers an amount of security to the buyer that they are making a worthwhile investment. If the Bonham’s auction had chiefly included pieces crafted by the hand of the original masters, and not by contemporaries emulating the style, there may have been a somewhat different atmosphere that day.

Before the auction, prospective buyers were allowed to inspect the lots: cupboards could be opened, chairs sat in, and although I did not attempt to, I might have got away with a quick nap on the George III mahogany Four Poster Bed. This setting was rather relaxed in comparison to some of the art galleries that inhabit the surrounding area of Mayfair, but of course, artworks are a very different kind of commodity to furniture and purely decorative objects. At White Cube that same day, a Franz Ackermann exhibition was taking place. Here, viewing was an incorporeal experience, the artworks being kept very much separate from any indication of commerce, although they were undoubtedly up for sale. This division is no bad thing, as artworks should be allowed some autonomy from commerciality whilst in the gallery space, to be experienced within their intended context so that the “magic”[9] of art can survive the supposed contamination of economic structures.

Indubitably though, tactics are readily adopted by art dealers and gallery owners to encourage buyers to invest in art, something that Olav Velthius suggests is most obvious in less Avant-Garde galleries,[10] and in dealers’ shops. Comfortable chairs may be dotted around or perhaps a painting will be positioned above a fireplace, conjuring a faux domestic setting thus encouraging the prospective buyer to imagine the artwork in their own home. For the commerce of furniture and collectables, a perfect situation may be if the sale takes place in the collector’s house, as the buyer can view the objects in situ, as in the renowned sales of Fonthill Abbey and Strawberry Hill.[11]

Touching the objects at Bonham’s therefore further enticed prospective buyers, as they could simultaneously picture an item aesthetically within their interior décor and also envisage its utilitarian function. It was also something of a thrill, as usually in a gallery or museum setting, the viewer is asked to do no more than that: view, and remain obediently behind the ropes. Watching a podcast of a private view of the Myers 2009 sale at Sotheby’s however,[12] I was shocked to notice how the use of touch was also being exploited to sell artworks. In the podcast, Leslie Prouty, Senior Vice President of Contemporary Art, whilst speaking about Alexander Calder’s Extreme Cantilever, caresses the jewel-like mobile that hangs from the end of the $1,000,000 sculpture. Similarly, Tobias Meyer, Worldwide Head of Contemporary Art places his hand dangerously close to the $8,000,000 surface of Andy Warhol’s 200 One Dollar Bills,[13] as if to say, ‘if you owned this piece, you could touch it too.’

The temptation of touch therefore, should not be underestimated in the selling of luxury goods. At Bonham’s, immediately after I had been seduced by the smooth surface of a parquetry cabinet, the other visitors and I were ushered out of the room, and items were placed under complementary lighting, out of reach, for the duration of the auction. Bonham’s had tactically positioned me in the centre of my imaginary, desirable interior, but perhaps the saying is true: you shouldn’t touch what you can’t afford!

---

[1] www.bonhams.com

[2] Ibid.

[3] Michael Thompson, Rubbish Theory, the Creation and Destruction of Value, (Oxford, Oxford University Press, 1979) p. 10

[4] Gerald Reitlinger, The Economics of Taste: Volume II, The Rise and Fall of Objets d’Art Prices since 1750, (London, Barrie & Rockliff, 1963) p. 55

[5] Thompson p. 10

[6] Arnuld Hauser, The Sociology of Art, translated by Kenneth J. Northcott, (London, Routledge, Kegan & Paul, 1982), ‘The Art Trade’ p. 507

[7] Iain Robertson, ‘Price before value’, in Iain Robertson & Derrick Chong (eds.), The Art Business, (Abingdon, Routledge, 2008) p. 30

[8] www.Bonhams.com

[9] Olav Velthius, Talking Prices, Symbolic meanings of prices on the Market for Contemporary Art, (Princeton and Oxford, Princeton University Press, 2005) p. 38

[10] Velthius p. 45

[11] Clive Wainwright, The Romantic Interior, the British Collector at Home 1750-1850, (New Haven and London, Yale University Press, 1989) p. 26

[12] www.sothebys.com

[13] Ibid.