October 16, 2005: [achtung! kunst] *market 1* |
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Auction house executives love talking about the imminent demise of their competitors, the dealers. Judging from the latest round of Chinese auctions last week, that is unlikely to happen soon. If anything, it is the auction houses that have reason to worry. The finest dealers are winning the knowledge game. Their secret weapon is called connoisseurship, that is, the ability to perceive both what makes an object great and what differentiates the real thing from modern imitations. Every art form has its visual alphabet, which you learn through repeated exposure. Like a doctor's diagnosis, a connoisseur's verdict, based partly on science and partly on direct intuition, requires experience. When art becomes scarce, dealers who have been in the running for a long time and have the innate gift required to develop that aptitude (as in playing the piano, you need the natural disposition and the extended practice) hold a trump card beyond the reach of an auction house "specialist" with only a few years in the game. It is no accident that the three truly major lots of Chinese art last week were bought through famous dealers acting as agents. To private buyers, their assistance represents an insurance policy. At Christie's, the hand scroll by the 14th-century painter Wang Meng was knocked down for $1.7 million an auction record for a painting by the artist to the dealer Arnold Chang of New York. It is now in a U.S. collection. That was a relatively straightforward case concerning authenticity, which had long been established by Sherman Lee in his "History of Far Eastern Art." But there is always the issue of condition. Here too, an impartial connoisseur's judgment is desirable auction house departmental heads are rarely heard saying what a pity their splendid painting is too badly damaged. The case of the other two lots required more sustained attention. Both were 15th-century blue-and-white porcelain vases. One, a vase with Persian inscriptions and the reign mark of the Zhengde emperor (1506-1521), also appeared at Christie's, where it realized the same price as the Wang Meng, $1.7 million. But while the painting exceeded Christie's estimate by half, the vase multiplied it 10 times. When you pay that much more than anticipated, it is best to know what you are doing. Here the bidding was entrusted to Giuseppe Eskenazi, who opened his London gallery in 1960 and is recognized by his peers as the world leader in early Chinese art. The piece, which had received Eskenazi's blessing, now adorns a European collection. The day after at Sotheby's, Eskenazi was again seen bidding, on a blue-and-white vase of the early 15th century. The vessel of meiping shape, painted with fruit branches, was estimated to be worth $300,000 to $400,000. It was knocked down at $3.5 million, making the price $3.94 million with the sale charge. Eskenazi's underbidder was another dealer, John Berwald of New York. By acting via Eskenazi, the bidder gave himself an extra guarantee, indispensable at this level. The London dealer was called upon to contribute his opinion on two other important pieces in Sotheby's sale. One was a "moon flask" with a body of circular shape thinly incised with formal patterns on the white surface. The Yongle period (1403-1424) object carried a $150,000 to $200,000 estimate. A quick contest was fought by Eskenazi and Julian Thompson, the British expert who ran Sotheby's Chinese art departments for more than three decades and is one of the two or three soundest connoisseurs of Chinese porcelain in the world. Thompson's collector won against Eskenazi's collector to the tune of $352,000 Another piece on which Eskenazi was consulted was a four-lobed shallow bowl with a broad crackle under a pale grayish glaze typical of "ge" wares in the 13th century. Immensely admired, these were imitated both in China and Japan. The estimate stood at $80,000 to $120,000. The bidding match over the tiny object, a mere 7 centimeters across, was fought between Eskenazi and Sotheby's representative in Taiwan. As the price reached $329,000, Eskenazi conceded defeat. Authenticity aside, there comes a moment when it is time to call it a day. At this point, an outsider might conclude that star lots are so obvious as not to require careful examination. Sadly, this is rarely the case. Even star lots can be niggled over. Two dealers of some experience remained skeptical about the white moon flask, even though both deferentially acknowledge the expertise of Eskenazi and Thompson. A greater problem is the invasion of the auction scene by funny-looking objects, reflecting the trusting optimism of young experts and the growing scarcity of good pieces. Anyone truly familiar with early blue-and-white porcelain would find it hard to believe that lot 65 in Sotheby's Sept. 21 sale, catalogued as "an extremely rare early blue-and-white 'dragon' jar," is much older than the 20th century. The skimpy design, the dead grayish-blue glaze, look like nothing on earth. The jar, estimated at $100,000 to $150,000, re-mained unsold. At Christie's, an equally strange blue-and-white ewer called "Yuan dynasty, 13th-14th century," was, likewise, bought in. Both houses also had some odd vessels with the pale greenish glaze of qingbai porcelain. At Sotheby's, a stem cup that looked unpleasantly new nevertheless fetched $5,100. The "rare" qingbai bowl that followed was knocked down at $2,500, its $6,000 to $8,000 estimate notwithstanding. Perhaps the expert did not admire the piece all that much himself. But in Sotheby's Sept. 22 session, a big qingbai vase and cover, which was estimated to be worth $100,000 to $150,000 and was as unconvincing with its scrolling pattern as with its glaze, did not sell. It is just as well. This morass of pieces of uncertain parentage does not help the market. An unusually high number of lots failed to sell: 29 percent at Christie's, 50 percent at Sotheby's. Worse, the invasion of funny pieces causes havoc by giving entire categories of objects an unflattering image. If so many Song and early Yuan pieces did not do very well last week, this may have something to do with the distrust of potential buyers, attracted but fearful of tripping up. A lovely 13th-century jar with russet splashes under a lustrous black glaze was left stranded at Christie's as the hammer came down at $2,800. The estimate was $4,000 to $6,000 At Sotheby's, a beautiful 13th-century meiping with a scrolling pattern under the pale bluish-greenish glaze offered on Sept. 21 may have fallen a victim to its inclusion in the same catalogue as another qingbai meiping of absurd ap-pearance, which came up on Sept. 22. The masterpiece, at one time in a Japanese collection, and the spoof both remained unsold. The atmosphere of suspicion that is beginning to spread in the Chinese market explains why works of art that have enjoyed prolonged and diversified public exposure generally sell like hot cakes. At Sotheby's, a Kangxi period (1662-1722) vase with a tall trumpet-shaped neck decorated in blue and white with a scene of "The Seven Sages from the Bamboo Grove" fetched $57,000, nearly four times the high estimate. Two lots down, a pair of blue-and-white bottles with figural scenes, also of the Kangxi period, went up to $51,000. Both had been on loan to the Montreal Art Museum from 1975 to 1981 and to the Minneapolis Institute of Arts from 1981 to 2005. All this is not to suggest that an elite of dealers have won the day. Anyone, auction expert, dealer or collector, op-erating in a minefield makes some mistakes. But dealers who have been around for a long time have amassed a capital they cannot afford to waste their reputation. In addition to their competence, which generally spares them errors of judgment, most instantly take back anything they sell at the merest suggestion of possible doubts. Declining to do so would harm them far more than auction houses with a vast staff. Word quickly gets around in collecting circles and, as they say in France, fear is the beginning of wisdom.
I don't normally subscribe to conspiracy theories, but in the matter of the Chinese government's effort to ban the export of virtually all works of art, it is not surprising that conspiracy theories are beginning to percolate. During the 1970s and 1980s the authorities sold off anything to anyone, regulating the flow from government warehouses and through state auctions as it suited those in power. The worry around the trade then was that too much would be allowed out in a rush, and the western market would be scuppered. Now there is an opposite threat. At the end of last year, it was widely reported that the Chinese government was seeking an American embargo on the import of almost any work of art, in any category dating from before 1949, that did not have a cast iron provenance and title. This was intended to protect the integrity of archaeological sites. However, few artefacts have been fully recorded, and the ban would even affect such things as painting and calligraphy, which have no connection to archaeology. Not unnaturally the collective brows of the trade became much more furrowed. Since then little has been heard but some New York dealers have been spending the summer in China stocking up against the possibility of a ban. However, the Senate committee has refused to allow interested parties even to see the original Chinese request and London traders express doubts about the whole business. One said: "It is interesting that the request to the US government - supposedly by the Chinese government - seems to have gone very quiet. In my opinion, it was a ridiculous request and one that completely ignores centuries of trading and cultural exchange, both of which have obviously been beneficial to China." Others are more sceptical still: "The supposed request never existed. It was an American idea to scratch Chinese backs in the hope of having their own scratched by the Chinese in much ¬bigger ways." Unlike a UK House of Commons committee, the Senate operates without a deadline and can announce a decision at any time, or never. This is thoroughly unsettling, to museums and collectors as well as dealers, but few believe the fea-sibility of an outright ban as apparently proposed. What is undeniable is the positive and dramatic effect that new money from mainland China has had, particularly on the porcelain market, over the past year or so. Indeed, the power of Chinese collectors may well militate against a ban, since many appear to be operating as investors and investment requires a vibrant international market. Eleven years ago I wrote a long article about the antiques market in the then colony of Hong Kong without once mentioning mainland buying. It would not be possible to do so now. Of the 10 most expensive lots in Sotheby's large Hong Kong sale in May, five went to Asian private buyers, two to the Asian trade and three to Giuseppe Eskenazi, doyen of the London dealers. In Christie's equivalent London session in July, five again went to Asian private buyers (one specified as from Hong Kong), three to the London and two to the Asian trade. Admittedly, the highest auction price of the year, indeed for any Asian work of art - Pounds 15,688,000 bid by Eskenazi at the Christie's event - was, it appears, paid on behalf of an American-based Swiss collector but the five or six other bidders still in contention at Pounds 10m were Chinese. Although the main thrust of Chinese porcelain buying so far has been for imperial and one-off "palace" Ming and Qing wares, it is probable that the combination of superb quality, excellent condition and a blue and white decoration that incorporated large figures, traditionally a Chinese taste, accounted for their interest in this 14th century Yuan jar. All this means that not only the auctioneers preparing their autumn sales but still more the dealers arranging their exhibitions for the eighth annual outing of Asian Art in London from November 3-12, are living in interesting times - although not, one trusts, in the more malign sense of that Chinese curse. The organisers point out that eight is an auspi-cious number in the far east. Two-thirds of the participating dealers specialise entirely or to a considerable extent in Chinese art, covering the whole range, from ancient bronzes to contemporary paintings by way of pottery, porcelain, jades, furniture and snuff bottles. One exhibition at the event that may well hit the spot with mainland buyers is Chinese Imperial Patronage, at Asian Art Gallery Ltd: Christopher Bruckner. Eskenazi shows the taste of a great 20th century collector - and indeed of a great 20th century dealer, since he himself largely directed the late Hans Popper's buying of the Song ceramics that were the passion of his last years. This selection of jars, bowls, dishes and boxes, dating from 960 - 1279 AD, is being sold on behalf of his grandchildren. In the past neither "grave goods", such as Tang figures, nor export wares decorated in famille rose and famille vert and the Chinese "foreign colours" for the European market, were of great interest to Chinese collectors. There are some signs that this may be changing. It will be interesting to know where a magnificent Tang horse with Roger Keverne, this year's Asian Art chairman, finds its next stable. Similarly, will there be interest from beyond the west for Jorge Welsh's European Scenes in Chinese Art show, and Brandt Oriental Arts' Westerners in Chinese Art? Cohen & Cohen, like several others, mix old and new, in their case 18th century export wares and contemporary paintings. S. Marchant & Son have been in the business longer than most others and are celebrating their 80th anniversary with Chinese Jades from Han to Qing, while the show at Sydney Moss, established in 1910, has a title redolent of the Ed-wardian era: Grand Exhibition of Old Chinese Paintings and Calligraphy.
Suddenly, the growing rarity of works of art so noticeable across the board is making itself felt in the Chinese art market. Combined with soaring numbers of newcomers from China, many of them buyers with no experience, this now gives Chinese art auctions a very strange profile. As Christie's opened the round of Asian auctions on Tuesday, even the jade works of art, traditionally dear to the Chinese heart, went through ups and downs. Surprises began with the first lot. The greenish white vase imitating a Han shape of the second or first century B.C. seemed doomed. Christie's did not give it a date, meaning that the specialists saw it as an object of recent make. That did not stop it from jumping to $24,000, unaccountably tripling Christie's high estimate, which seemed opti-mistic enough. The love of the material and white color may perhaps be invoked to explain the success of an 18th-century piece in the form of a finger citron, which sold for a whopping $84,000, or of an incense burner of ill-determined style, which inexplicably climbed to $126,000. Other lots, at least as good, merely sold as predicted. A pair of chrysanthemum bowls, probably of the early to mid-19th century, seemed underpriced by comparison as they made a modest $7,200 Kitsch objects better suited to the lobbies of hotels eager to strike a deluxe note were included in the sale, and some were enthusiastically received. A "rare imperial jade, bone, glass, gilt metal and wood jardiniere of narcissus," which, Christie's experts assured, dates from the Qianlong reign (1735-1796), brought $33,600 courtesy of a Chinese dealer. Not even the prices of rhinoceros horn wine cups for which Chinese traditionalists have a passion followed a clear price pattern. A cup carved in the late 17th century with low relief blossoms inspired five Chinese bidders to jump into the fray. Eventually it went to a Japanese professional. Two lots down, a Taiwan dealer saved face for China. His choice was a Ming cup very finely carved toward the end of the 16th century, which cost him a steep $72,000 Baubles followed. There was even a delightful brush pot of hexagonal shape carved out of honey-colored burlwood with applied purplish brown zitan wood panels. Lost in this succession of overly ornate pieces, the late 18th-century scholar's object went for a song, $3,600, much to the satisfaction of its buyer, the art historian and specialist in Far Eastern art Martin Lorber. And then came the first great rarity of the week. The landscape in ink on paper by the famous 14th-century painter Wang Meng showed signs of wear. But it offered rare guarantees of authenticity in a field where authentication is noto-riously hazardous. Copying, in China, was the traditional way of learning or acknowledging admiration for a master. The handscroll has a poem beautifully calligraphed by the painter. Most importantly, two other inscriptions by contemporaries of the artist mention him by name. Theow-Huang Tow, chairman of Christie's in Asia and America who obtained the consignment from Stephen Junkunc 3rd of Chicago, heir to a fabulous Chinese art collection, and Tina Zonars, head of the Chinese department in New York, made sure that every potential bidder knew about their catch. A furious bidding contest started. Paintings of undisputed authenticity by famous Chinese masters hardly ever appear on the market. The bill, $1.7 million, was settled by Arnold Chang, the New York-based Chinese dealer. The story repeats itself with the two other stupendously rare objects in Christie's sale. One, a footed porcelain cup inscribed with the reign mark of the Xuande emperor (1426-35), would not have aroused much enthusiasm in earlier times. Marred by cracks and a chip, which used to be deemed unacceptable by Chinese buyers, the cup was estimated to be worth $10,000 to $15,000. It ended up at $374,400. The winner was the British world-renowned expert in Chinese porcelain Julian Thompson, acting on behalf of an "Asian" (meaning "Chinese") collector. Times are changing and so is China. Ten minutes later there came the important object of the day, a Ming blue and white vase for a single spray with the mark of the Zhengde emperor (1506-1521) painted on the underside. On the neck and square body that reproduces a bronze model, a Persian couplet written in eight roundels reminds the reader that God's power is beyond the grasp of man's mind. Zhengde is reported by a contemporary Turkish traveler to have converted to Islam, well entrenched in communities in and around Beijing since the 13th century. It was propagated by Iranian missionaries with Sufi affiliations, hence the Persian verses that crop up on Ming blue and white porcelain. Acquired in Shanghai in 1902 by Clarence Cary, it was consigned by the estate of a descendant of the collector. Christie's hoped that the vase, matched by only three pieces of related shape (only one with Persian verses), would bring $100,000 to $150,000. Three agents representing American and Chinese collectors sparred over the vase. Giuseppe Es-kenazi of London, the world's leading dealer in early Chinese art, won at a cost of $1.7 million. The vase will go to a European collector. With stars such as these and other fine pieces of a lesser caliber, Christie's sale could have been great. Alas, there was too much dross. Yet Christie's score was good compared with Sotheby's auction Wednesday in which half the works offered crashed unwanted. The problems were the same, only amplified. Several objects looked so silly that you wondered what they were doing at Sotheby's. An "equestrian group," supposedly Han, was badly molded with a hideous glaze. It did not stand a chance in a million. Here too a few admirable works formed a strange contrast with this underworld of art. A fantastic grayish green vase of the 10th century, with floral roundels molded in low relief on its shoulders, furiously disputed, zoomed to $464,000. A Chinese bidder and Eskenazi fought over a tiny 13th- century brush washer with a broad crackle in the pale grayish glaze. His victory cost the Chinese winner an astronomical $329,600 But when the week's supreme masterpiece among the objets d'art came up, Eskenazi would not let go. The high-shouldered vase consigned by the estate of Laurance Rockefeller is the most beautiful 15th-century blue and white "meiping" I know, for the flow of its shape and the perfection of its painted sprays. Sotheby's estimate, $300,000 to $400,000, was timid the end price, $3.94 million, phenomenal. Eskenazi was underbid by John Berwald of New York, presumably acting on behalf of an American client. Chinese punters tried to compete and gave up halfway through. The Chinese are quick learners, but they have a long way to go. Many still fall for the worst decadent wares of the later periods or outright duds. Too few have the guts or the market experience required to realize that in today's market, the top of the top is likely to soar to levels no one expected, not even those who end up paying the price.
__________________ with kind regards, Matthias Arnold
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