THE ART HUNTER, AND WHAT WE LOOK FOR - THAT OTHERS MISS
THE BIGGEST MISTAKE BY VENDORS IS TO UNDERESTIMATE OR OVER-ESTIMATE ART VALUES
I HAVE ALWAYS ADMIRED ART. FOR MANY YEARS I DIDN'T HAVE THE MONEY TO COLLECT FINE ART, AND SETTLED FOR MY SECOND PASSION,……WHICH IS FOLK ART. I REALLY CAN'T DECIDE WHICH ART FORM AND STYLE I LIKE BEST. I HAVE A HUGE RESPECT FOR ARTISTIC TYPES GENERALLY, AS I AM A FRUSTRATED ARTIST MYSELF, WHO TURNED TO WRITING INSTEAD. WHEN I WAS AT UNIVERSITY IN TORONTO, OUR RESIDENCE WAS FULL OF ARTISTS, SCULPTORS, POETS AND MUSICIANS. I GOT AS MUCH EDUCATION FROM TRAVELING ROOM TO ROOM, IN THE EVENINGS, BEGGING TO SIT AND WATCH ART IN PROGRESS, AS I GOT FROM THE WHOLE ACADEMIC EXPERIENCE. MY FRIEND ROSS SMITH, AN EXCEPTIONAL LANDSCAPE ARTIST, USED TO HAVE AN ART PANEL ON THE GO, MOST OF THE TIME, AND IN RETURN FOR EDITING HIS ESSAYS, (HE WAS A CRAPPY SPELLER), HE'D LET ME WATCH A PAINTING COME TOGETHER. AND HE FED ME AS WELL, BECAUSE I WAS BROKE MOST OF THE TIME, OVER MY THREE YEARS AT YORK UNIVERSITY. I EVEN BEGGED ROSS TO CREATE A SMALL PAINTING FOR ME, OF A RUSTIC WATERFRONT CABIN, AND DOCK, THAT I HAD TAKEN A PHOTOGRAPH OF ONCE,……THAT I WANTED TO BUILD ONE DAY HERE IN MUSKOKA. WELL, THAT NEVER HAPPENED, BUT HE DID A PAINTING FOR ME, AND IT HANGS HERE IN MY OFFICE, WITH DOZENS OF OTHERS I'VE ACQUIRED, THAT WERE FAMILY HEIRLOOMS.
AS WITH MOST COLLECTORS AND ANTIQUE (ART) DEALERS, WE OFTEN HAVE HAD TO CHANGE OUR AFFECTIONS FOR HERITAGE PIECES, BASED ON MANY UNEXPECTED CIRCUMSTANCES. MOST HAVE AT THE VERY LEAST DIVERSIFIED THEIR COLLECTING HABITS, FROM SAY……THEIR OWN FIRST DAYS OUT ON THE HUSTINGS, TRYING TO AMASS INVENTORY FOR A SHOP, FOR EXAMPLE. SOMETHING CHANGES THE GAME AND WE START LOOKING AT OTHER POSSIBILITIES. THE VINTAGE GLASS COLLECTOR, WHO ALSO HAS A MINOR INTEREST IN SPORTS MEMORABILIA. HEY IT HAPPENS. THE QUILT COLLECTOR WHO ALSO HAS A SUBSTANTIAL COLLECTION OF STAMPS OR COINS. SOMETIMES IT'S THE INFLUENCE OF A PARTNER OR SPOUSE, THAT INSPIRES A PROFOUND CHANGE OF COLLECTING INTEREST, WHICH IS REALLY A PRETTY NATURAL PROGRESSION OF THE PROFESSION ITSELF. MOST ANTIQUE DEALERS ESPECIALLY, ALLOW FOR THE WINDS OF CHANGE, AND WELCOME NEW SOURCES OF INSPIRATION. FOR ME, I BEGAN COLLECTING ANTIQUE GLASS, BECAUSE IT WAS CHEAPLY ACQUIRED, WHEN I DUG AT HOMESTEAD DUMPSITES, FROM AGE NINETEEN ONWARD. I LOVED TO COLLECT VINTAGE LIGHTING, AND I STILL HAVE SEVENTY-FIVE OLD OIL LAMPS, MOST THAT ARE CURRENTLY OPERATIONAL, SHOULD THE POWER GO OUT HERE AT BIRCH HOLLOW. I BEGAN COLLECTING BOOKS AS A REGIONAL HISTORIAN HERE IN SOUTH MUSKOKA, AND FROM THAT SPECIFIC INTEREST, DEVELOPED A WIDER APPRECIATION THAT "OLD BOOKS ARE IN DEMAND." THIS CAME ABOUT THROUGH OUR SHOP. I BEGAN SELLING SOME OF MY MUSKOKA RELATED HISTORIES, AND I COULDN'T BELIEVE THE RAGING DEMAND. I STARTED CHECKING OUT THE PRICES OF THESE OUT-OF-PRINT BOOKS, AND APPARENTLY, I WAS FOR ONCE IN MY LIFE, IN THE RIGHT PLACE AT THE RIGHT TIME……WITH BOOKSHELVES FULL OF WHAT FOLKS IN OUR AREA WANTED. WITH THIS INTEREST CAME A GENERALLY FANNING OUT INTO NON-FICTION, AND IT LED THE WAY TO THE LIFE OF A BIBLIOPHILE, WHICH IS STILL OCCUPYING MY TIME AND SPACE AT THE SHOP, ALL THESE JOYFUL YEARS LATER. I HAVE ALWAYS ENJOYED MY INVOLVEMENT WITH THESE DIVERSE CATEGORIES OF COLLECTIBLES, BUT THE TRUTH IS, I'VE GOT MICRO COLLECTIONS ALL OVER THE PLACE, INCLUDING HOCKEY AND BASEBALL CARDS. THAT'S A STORY FOR ANOTHER DAY.
WHEN AT TIMES, BOOKS STARTED TO ESCALATE IN PRICE, AND DEMAND DROPPED, I WAS FORCED TO LOOK AT OTHER OPTIONS, TO MAINTAIN A REASONABLE MARGIN OF PROFIT. I BEGAN TURNING TO ART MORE EACH YEAR, AND IT IS STILL THE AREA I'M MOST COMFORTABLE IN, AND PROFITABLE, MORESO THAN BOOKS OR VINTAGE GLASS……OR SPORTS CARDS. HERE'S WHY. I PURCHASED TWO WELL EXECUTED, LATE 1800'S WATERCOLORS, FROM HOLLAND, AT A LOCAL SECOND HAND SHOP, FOR UNDER TEN DOLLARS (THE PAIR). WHEN I GOT TO THE COUNTER, THE SHOP MANAGER, THE CHECK-OUT CLERK, AND SOME CUSTOMERS WHO HAD BEEN IN CONVERSATION, INQUIRED WHAT I HAD FOUND ON MY TRAVELS OF THE LARGE STORE. "THEY'RE NICE PRINTS," SAID THE MANAGER. "I LIKE THE SOFT COLORS AND THE BOATS IN THE PICTURE," SAID A WOMAN, LEANING UP AGAINST THE COUNTER. IN LESS THAN A MINUTE OF UNDESIRED SCRUTINY, THE WORD "PRINT" WAS USED ABOUT TWELVE TIMES, EMPHATICALLY BY STAFF AND CUSTOMERS. THEY DESPERATELY WANTED ME TO AGREE WITH THEM. I NEVER SAID THEY WEREN'T PRINTS, BUT I WAITED UNTIL AFTER PAYING FOR THEM, TO ENGAGE IN CONVERSATION. NOW THE PROBLEM HERE, IS THAT IN OUR REGION, I CAN'T REALLY HIDE FROM MY PROFESSIONAL CREDENTIALS, WHICH OFTEN PUTS ME IN CONTROVERSIAL SITUATIONS, AS AN APPRAISER OF MY OWN PURCHASES. THERE ARE TIMES, THAT WHEN THESE SHOP STAFFERS SEE ME WITH STORE MERCHANDISE, THEY CRINGE AT THE POSSIBILITY I'VE UNCOVERED A JACKSON POLLOCK, BECAUSE THEY'VE ALL HEARD OR READ THE STORY OF THE LADY WHO FOUND ONE AT A YARD SALE. OF COURSE, TO MY KNOWLEDGE, THAT ONE WAS NEVER ACTUALLY CONFIRMED AS A POLLOCK ORIGINAL. ANYWAY, YOU GET THE MESSAGE. IT CAN BE AWKWARD AT TIMES. THIS WAS ONE OF THOSE TIMES.
WHAT PUZZLED ME, THAT DAY, WAS THE FACT THIS SCRUM OF SECOND HAND SHOP HANGERS-ON, FELT COMPELLED TO TELL ME ABOUT THE TWO ART PIECES I WAS PURCHASING. THEY WEREN'T ACTUALLY ASKING FOR MY ASSESSMENT. THEY WERE TELLING ME THAT I WAS BUYING TWO NICE, OLD "PRINTS." I HAVE A THRESHOLD LIKE EVERYONE ELSE, AND SOMETIMES I CROSS IT SOONER THAN I SHOULD, BECAUSE I'M TEMPTED WITH AN UNANTICIPATED STUPID QUESTION. ONE YOUNG LADY I KNOW, WHO HAS BEEN INVOLVED IN THE ANTIQUE BUSINESS FOR QUITE A FEW YEARS, STUCK HER HEAD AROUND THE CORNER OF THE GATHERED HUMANITY, AND SAID, "THOSE AREN'T PRINTS……TED FOUND TWO REALLY NICE WATERCOLORS." SO WHAT'S AN ANTIQUE DEALER SUPPOSED TO DO WITH THAT NASTY "CAT OUT OF THE BAG." I WAS DELIGHTED THEY HAD THOUGHT THE ART WORK WAS PLEASANT; AND LIKE THE PRETTY PICTURES YOU COULD BUY YEARS AGO AT THE "FIVE AND DIME STORE." I REALLY DIDN'T HAVE MUCH CHOICE THEN, OTHER THAN TO RUN A LITTLE SALES-COUNTER TUTORIAL, ON THE COMPARISON ISSUES BETWEEN PRINTS AND ORIGINALS, AND HOW TO DETECT THE FAIRLY CLEAR DIFFERENCES BETWEEN THE TWO.
TO BE COMPETITIVE YOU HAVE TO FLY UNDER THE RADAR
If these watercolors had been the work of a well known artist, and worth thousands, I would have been compelled to fess-up. After all, it was a charity shop, and I have done appraisal work for them in the past……as a donation, so I couldn't very well walk out of the store, and feel good about myself, with ten thousand dollars worth of art work under my arm. An auction is a competition, between antique-savvy heavyweights, as in the story-line above, so it is different than cherry picking from a thrift shop. In this case, the small original watercolors, of marine themes, with original frames and flawed glass, dating it back to about the 1880's, were valued at around hundred dollars for the pair. Vintage watercolors are hard to sell, so it's not like I was going to make easy money from them. I own lots of similar watercolors because I like them hanging on my walls. It's as simple as that. The real big money art-work, for me, are expertly done Canadian or regional oil paintings, particularly landscapes. At least this is the current trend, which may last a year or a couple more weeks. Of course, detecting an oil painting is easier than identifying a watercolor, unless you have a magnifying glass handy. I've purchased watercolors so perfectly done, and lightly touched, that the only way to determine their originality is by magnification. I've also been burned numerous times, when I thought I had an original, but alas…..I had acquired a near worthless print. On those occasions I hope Suzanne isn't near enough to hear me weeping. At least I can recycle the frames. It's also important to note here, that folk art is also very difficult for most non-collectors to figure out. Is it really bad art work, or is it a naive depiction, or sculpture, by an untrained folk artist. It's difficult to understand the differences, just like the gathering at the charity shop, was trying to figure out what was so special about the two pictures I was buying. "Tell me why you think they are prints," I asked them as a group. They all had to handle the pieces, and stick their noses up to the glass protecting the paper panels. Two concurred they were originals on closer inspection. The other three held their opinion, that I had just over-paid, in their opinions, for two wall hangings. I developed a dislike for these folks, so I decided to make them an example……and to provide a little lesson about the importance of experience, education, and being sure of one's self, before making stupid comments.
So I offered these three gents, an opportunity to view them up close……as I played the role of art teacher. I asked them if they found anything odd about what they had determined to be prints off a press.They couldn't. "Have you ever once in your art-critiquing lives, gentlemen, seen brush hairs attached to the surface of a print?" "Where's the brush hair," one asked, looking closer at the paintings. "Oh, those brush hairs." Don't you just love those moments? Those little victories in life. You know, I didn't half mind them labeling them as prints, except for the fact, that because everyone knew me in that scrum, and my integrity was looking rather thread-bare under the circumstances, I felt it a matter of honor, to provide some basic insight. And by the way, I didn't make fun of them for their error, and in fact, I never said another word……unless you count, "see you all later," as I walked out the door. They were just curious, I suppose. It's not like I'm adverse to helping others learn about antiques and collectibles. I love to talk, and especially when it involves something within my profession. In this case, they just pushed me back into a corner, to where I felt the need to defend the antique profession……from those who have little idea how tough it is, to know it all! To be a big-money antique hunter? That's right. You have to be a first class know-it-all, because if you're not……chances are you're going to miss an original because you mistakenly thought it was a reproduction.
I was in another charity shop, one afternoon, and was in the process of purchasing a nice original pastel, of a Muskoka winter scene. I know this, because it was labelled on the back. A gentleman connected with the manager of the store, came up behind me, and asked to see the picture. This also happens a lot, because there is a real curiosity about what antique dealers get up to on the hustings. So I showed him the art work under glass, and he immediately said, "It's not a bad print." Another wise acre! "I bet you thought that was an original, didn't you Ted," he added, while chortling a merry tune to himself, about his extensive knowledge of art. Here's the footnote now, instead of later. This knob had already picked this up, and was going to buy it, before some other knob told him, "That's a print, you know." So getting really angry at this intrusion, once again, I said, "And what makes you believe this is a print and not an original?" Knobs don't like to be put on the spot like this. So there was a lot of sputtering, like an outboard engine being tested in a barrel full of water. Keep in mind, that it's okay to make fun of the antique dealer, until this rearing-up stage of the lay-person mocking ritual. "It just is, can't you see that," was the only response he could make, with the sudden onset of dry mouth, and the jitters, that a cobra was coiling for a strike. I held it up for him to get a good long look, and I asked if he knew why there was a faint blue residue on the inside of the glass. You would have to be visually impaired not to see this. "I though it was dirt or something," he answered. I responded, without any hint of sarcasm, "but it's blue!" I explained to him that this was pastel dust basically, off the blue water of the lake in the landscape. I went on to offer the opinion, that the artist had probably been a little stingy with the fixing spray, that would normally keep the dust from rising inside the frame…..especially if the picture was moved or bumped during its lifetime. "It's an original sir, and a nice one," was how I concluded this discussion. Well not quite. "You should have bought it….what a great price." I didn't make a friend on this day. But I bet if I had set it down, for even a moment, it would have been in his hand again.
The funniest encounter, was at a fundraising auction for local firefighters. They had a nice variety of art pieces, on a high shelf behind the auctioneer. Being at the middle zone of the auction, it took three hours of selling to get to the framed art. In three hours, a fellow like me, can get in a lot of quality staring. There was one painting I had picked out, that was, in my mind, truly magnificent. It was a winter landscape of tall pines, a beautiful homestead, frozen pond with kids skating, and two horse drawn sleighs. I knew this was an original and not a reprint on canvas. I could see that the canvas was ripped, and there were other areas of damage to the surface. These paintings can be restored. What I was counting on, was that because this was a fine art piece, and truly out of place with the paint my numbers, and the "five to dime store" framed prints, also in the art pile, bidders would look at the damage and its near perfect scene, and opt not to invest in this particular art piece. There have been many well known masterpieces applied to canvas, giving the visual appearance of being original. This looked like a Cornelius Krieghoff, a well known Canadian landscape artist, or something from Currier and Ives. It could have been a scene from Quebec or New York. As the painting came up for auction, the auctioneer described it as a badly damaged print of a well known painting. Thanks to that introduction, at least half the potential bidders bowed out immediately. It's one thing to by a copy, but not one that is damaged.
Two people standing beside me, agreed vocally that it was a shame this print was damaged, as they would have been delighted to have it adorning a wall in their respective homes. One antique dealer nearby, began explaining the process of putting those familiar art works onto canvas, to make them look original. Damn it, this was all very distracting. After a little encouragement, the auctioneer got a bid, and then about five more, running the damaged painting up to about thirty dollars…..mostly because they wanted to scavenge what I knew was a pre-Victorian frame. With a second to spare before the auctioneer declared the item sold, I made a bid of forty dollars, to shake up the civility of the affair, and let folks know there was a new kid in the game. Often when you break up the even succession of bids, it's like what happens with a missed heart-beat, but you don't die as a result. The bidders are shocked by the strange increase in bidding, and generally, as is my experience, let the piece go without another bid. On this occasion, I attracted too much attention in a thinning crowd. Especially from my antique dealer colleague, who decided that if I was after this framed art work, it had to be for more than a nice frame. So she started bidding me up. So did a few others, who realized "the dealer is after that print up there!" So I made a couple of larger incremental moves, and finally blew off the competition at seventy-five dollars. I had just bought a five thousand dollar painting for seventy five bucks. Not bad eh? It was appraised at this value, even with the damage to the canvas. The painting by the way, wasn't signed by the artist, but was signed by the "paint man" in New York, from the 1820's. A "paint" or "color man" mixed the colors for the artist, to suit their specific use needs. When I had the large painting in my hand, the antique dealer was at my side in a flash, fondling the art panel, to see for herself whether it was original or not. When she recognized that I had just bought an original…..not a copy……not a print, she made me an offer of a hundred dollars…….stating, "That's a profit of twenty-five dollars for just bidding, and handing it over to me." I wished she had been kidding about this, but she wasn't. My boys, Andrew and Robert took the painting to the van, while I tried to beat a hasty retreat, to get rid of her. Then she turned on me, telling everyone she could at the sale, how Ted Currie ripped off the firemen. I love this business, but there are times folks, when my sense of humor becomes very strained. It can get very ugly out there, make no mistake about it, and although I'm pretty good at brushing this stuff off, it does tend to influence my enjoyment of the antique hunting experience. It's why I really like shopping outside the region, where I never feel obligated to provide my resume, and accompanying tutorial, every time I go to check-out my intended purchases.
There are lots of good moments too. I'll tell you about those in upcoming blogs. Once again, please accept my heartfelt gratitude, for your support of this biographical blog, written from my little nuthatch, at Birch Hollow, in the heart of our beautiful little town, snow-clad as it is right now,……Gravenhurst, Ontario. I hope you'll decide to come back again, for this ongoing exploration of a profession I find fascinating……and at times, somewhat enchanting in the paranormal sense. I can tolerate the annoyances of the profession, because so much more of the experience, every day, each week and year, is so exciting and adventure-filled. The rough patches are imbedded in every profession, as a sort of commitment test. After thirty-five years of hunting and gathering for fun and profit, it's safe to say I'm pretty darn committed. At least that's what Suzanne says when I come home with yet another box of old books. But she words it differently……"you should be committed," I think she says. See you again soon.
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