Rags or Riches?: An Amateur's Journey Into The Art World

By Peter Constant

The book is designed for any person interested in reading the story of an amateur art investor and the challenges he had to face over thirty years in art auctions and art deals worldwide. The secrets of auctions and the art trade are discussed and highlighted in unique, true stories that happened to the writer so that the reader gets first hand knowledge of how the art market works and how the readers can protect their interests either when buying or selling fine art. Whether employed or semi-employed in any country of the world and regardless of background, the book attempts to assist you and guide you to invest wisely in art, avoid the loopholes and traps of the art trade and auctions and make the millions you are dreaming of.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Oct 1, 2013
• ISBN: 9781483509686

Book preview

Confidence

PART I - An Unlikely Beginning (1983 - 1985)

An amateur starts a new way of life, a new journey to destination unknown. Advantage none, hard work, hope and luck his tools. A lucky break, a myriad of heartaches and a series of profits set up the quest into art and riches as early as 1985.

Chapter I - The Beginning of Beginnings

September 1983, London

We arrived in London in mid-August 1983 following a year’s study in the USA. The plan was to return to Athens which had been our home for the last three years and where I had a good teaching job and connections. My wife, originally from London, was expecting our first child and the idea was to have the birth in London and then return to Athens. We were poor or rather penniless, jobless and homeless, living temporarily with my in-laws.

Arriving in London unemployed, without a penny in my pocket and living on charity was a situation I hated. It was a shock and a rude awakening. It caused me considerable psychological problems, plenty of hard thinking and soul searching. More so, it was job searching for September and settling into a more permanent situation that concerned me. Schools were closed for the summer and jobs were few and far apart.

I was a mature man in my mid-thirties. I had worked hard all my life, and suddenly I was in London homeless and jobless, although with a home and a job in Athens waiting for me. However, I was determined to make it in London temporarily and until the baby came. Working hard in any job had always helped me to survive. It was survival time and another new beginning. Life had prepared me well for that!

A childhood friend and relative was already in London trying to make ends meet and wondering how to make a living. Continue working in the housing industry or venture into the art auction business, which he knew nothing about? We visited a couple of local auctions and a few major ones in central London. It was an awakening! I was impressed! I loved the trading and items sold, but what interested me most were the huge sums of money exchanging hands.

What do you think? my friend asked after following the first few auctions locally and then at Sotheby’s for the first time. My answer was spontaneous and truthful.

Wherever there is money involved, there is money to be made!

There were no plans for art and auctions, but I was always on the lookout for something different to teaching or something to supplement teaching and enrich my life. London offered opportunities, but which ones? I liked antiques and I loved art. Following those few local and major auctions and seeing the hundreds of thousands of pounds changing hands and the items sold, I hastily concluded that it wouldn’t be a bad idea to be a part of that action. I particularly loved the adrenalin that flowed in the auction process, I loved the theatre of bidding, starting, stopping, restarting and playing games with serious money. I, as an observer, became hooked, magnetized; I was involved, and yet I was an onlooker. Much more than that, I loved the items that caused all the drama and theatre: antique furniture, fine art, porcelain, jewellery, carpets and all the other areas of collecting.

Gravity! It was like duck taking to water. I am a man of adventure acting on impulse and instinct. I jump into new experiences. I dip in the deep without being a good swimmer. I struggle and fight in stormy waters, but somehow manage miraculously to make it to the other side. The bruising is temporary, the injury inconsequential, the damage soon forgotten, and reverses of luck inexplicably more and more satisfying as they gradually become a distant memory in the face of successes.

Investing in art is great but you need dedication, determination and guts to succeed, especially when the going gets tough. A serious attitude to art, a serious hard-working ethos, plenty of courage and stamina to last the journey of a lifetime and perhaps generations, are required.

Little did I know that, soon enough after October 1983, I was going to be a player in the fine art arena. It never crossed my mind that I was going to trade art all over the world, was going to experience the ups and downs of dealing and was going to trust all in art. I never anticipated the joys and jubilations, the anxieties and worries, the disappointments and heartaches of auctions and private purchases and sales. Everything happened so quickly. It was so unexpected and surreal. Yet, it happened, it lifted me off my feet at such a fast pace, and that pace I set myself.

How did it all happen? I still wonder! I am still unsure how I managed so many things simultaneously in such a short time! Miraculous!

If investing your hard earned money is a worry, especially in stocks these days, you will read about an alternative that will give you a lot more satisfaction, a greater personal involvement and hopefully better returns on any money invested. No matter how much money you start with, where and when, it will be enough to invest, to experience the joy and satisfaction of buying art and hopefully see it rewarding you.

Our first investment was in a painting, an omen of what was to follow

August 1979, Athens

Destiny is a powerful supernatural unknown, which I believe nobody can escape. With that strong belief accepted as a fact in my consciousness, I could not escape my art journey. If the powers from above had decided that I was to be involved in art, who was I to reject such a wonderful present? The truth is, I am grateful as ever to them.

Living in Athens for a few years was possibly the best time of my life. Athens is an amalgamation of ancient and modern, a city of good living, great food and unparalleled entertainment in the famous ‘bouzoukia’ establishments. Superb quality of life, if you can afford it!

In 1979 marriage arrived unexpectedly but very welcome and my partner was new to Athens and all that constitutes the immortal city. Plaka and the surrounding areas of the Plaka market in the historical area of Athens was a magical mélange of a place, a mix of local and luxury shops, mobile souvlaki stalls and restaurants, tourist trade and local trade, fruit stalls, food stalls, antique and junk shops. What a world of wonders, of interesting wares and characters! Plaka was a bazaar of the old and new, the cheap and worthless, valuable and priceless, ephemeral and unforgettable, bustling with all manner of people, honest traders and questionable characters, all trying to make a living. This is what makes Plaka and Monastiraki so special and unique - a world of two and a half thousand years standing proudly at the feet of the ancient and modern co-existing and magnetizing all who come here. Miraculous world indeed! Whenever one walked those areas of Athens of thirty years ago, the joy was contagious and inescapable. Where else could I show my wife the best of Athens?

It was a bright, beautiful Sunday morning in August 1979! Most Athenians were on holiday in the countryside and Athens was left to the tourists and the few who could not afford a holiday to the islands and resorts. Athens is at its best when abandoned by its inhabitants. We strolled through the centre, past the Hilton Hotel marvelling at the fashionable Kolonaki shops and buildings and high society sitting and buzzing at the cafés as early as eleven in the morning, and then on to Syntagma Square towards Plaka. It was a walk I still cherish. Plaka was a new experience for my young wife but also for me on that morning. I saw and enjoyed the beauty of it through new lenses, from a different angle. Who knows why? I guess the new girl in my life!

We passed shops one after the other, new and old and, without any reason, ended up in an antiques shop in Monastiraki, perhaps trying to escape from the deafening noise of the market and the crush of the crowds. What an antiques shop, what an amazing world! It was crammed high to the ceiling with everything imaginable including paintings piled one on top of another. Amongst that jumble and unpleasant smell of the old and neglected we somehow spotted something that attracted us.

A painting! A pleasant scene, although a little dark, large with a solid, colourful frame, signed, artist unknown. We liked it!

It’s 12,000 drachmas, the owner of the shop informed us. No money, no games! Thank you and goodbye. But we both liked the painting and it was at the back of my mind all along and until two Sundays later. I had 10,000 drachmas (£150) in my pocket and immediately I thought of the painting. Moonlight, boats on a lake, it was a good painting for my taste of those days. I knew nothing better! Did it matter? No, not at all! I wanted it, my wife liked it, and so back to the antiques/junk shop that Sunday.

The painting was nowhere to be seen. The owner could not help us, as we could not describe the painting well. We knew nothing about artists and about style. Then fortunately, I spotted a section of frame jutting out from behind several paintings. Yes, I remembered the frame and recognized that! The frame, I said. That’s the frame of the painting. Soon, the painting was staring at us and it looked more attractive than the first time - shining moon, small boats and trees in the foreground, glittering lights at the back and the lake golden, yellow/brown.

How much is it? I asked, pretending to forget the earlier price quoted.

That’s 18,000 drachmas.

What! I replied choking. The so and so, I thought quickly. 12,000 drachmas two weeks ago and now it’s 18,000. But two weeks ago you quoted 10,000.

The frame is worth more than that, he retorted.

I have 10,000. That’s it. No more!

Ten thousand it is then! The Lassanos lake view became our first investment in art. The first investment in my married life was a painting. Buying that painting was a major omen that I never thought of until the early 1980s. How was it possible to imagine that a few years later I would be investing in paintings not only for their aesthetic value but also for their financial returns and future appreciation?

That painting is still in my collection. I do not know who the artist is, but I still love the painting. I never cared about the money, and what can one buy with 10,000 drachmas (about twenty pounds) today?

Ecstatic after the first ten-pound trade

Early October 1983, London

Unsuspecting of my venture and future adventures in art I settled in London and soon enough adjusted to new routines and a new life. I secured a supply teacher’s job and an evening job as an English teacher. Having plenty of time on my hands I accompanied my friend to the couple of auctions he knew. Those were eye-opening experiences that ultimately affected and shaped the rest of my life. From then on my mind was on auctions and the opportunities they offered. Somehow, even in those early days, I knew that one day I would be able to play a part in the auction business.

It did not take years to happen, it took only a few weeks. I was anxious to test the waters and jump in at the deep end in spite of being inexperienced and penniless. If you have not bought anything in order to resell for profit, you might find it difficult to understand the euphoric feelings I had with my first investment and success! Success? What success? An investment of ten pounds turned into...

This is not a joke. It was indeed my first purchase as a dealer of all items, a jack-of-all-trades. It was the first buy of a mega-ignoramus who dived into the auction/art business to make money without much thought and without a plan. Far more importantly, without any knowledge about auctions, antiques or art! Had I been wiser, I would have read a little about the business. Where though? I still have no idea. There was nobody willing to share the knowledge.

I spotted the pair of electroplated candelabra in a local charity shop. The price was ten pounds, which I gladly paid, thinking that I would make a fortune on reselling at auction. I wasted no time entering them for sale in a small local auction house that my friend had shown me. I wasn’t aware of it at the time, even though just round the corner in North Finchley, London. The auctioneer suggested a ten pounds’ estimate and reserve, which I was happy to accept, hoping for better than that. I had no idea whether that was a fair estimate or a very low one. I was in the hands of the auction owner who was much more knowledgeable than me.

Happy days! First sale at auction! Living memory! How can I forget? It was the first time I had sold anything at auction or indeed sold anything for profit. Naturally, I was worried and very fidgety. That auction room was good in those days. Many people frequented it and there was a lot of bidding from the floor on nearly everything.

I stood dazed and frozen at the back of the auction following the events and contemplating my riches to come. I was honestly expecting a huge return and a major push into the new adventure I was entering. The loud clear voice of the auctioneer boomed, Ten pounds, eleven, twelve, thirteen pounds and fourteen, and sped like an express train, fourteen and fourteen, sold at fourteen pounds! The gavel thundered down and I was speechless!

Done! Amazing! All over so quickly! Increments of pounds and in that order! Yes, fourteen pounds it made. I was back to earth, but nevertheless ecstatic and so happy! I was like a child getting his first Christmas present. I collected twelve pounds three days after the sale and it felt great. I had made two pounds net profit! Happy and proud of myself after that first venture into buying and selling antiques, I kept preparing for more of the same. For a beginner, a profit of two pounds was immense, and more than that, it was 20% profit within two weeks. Watching the bidding climb by a pound each time was such a joy. It was sheer bliss, but so short! I wanted it to last much longer.

Memories are sweet, the experience well rooted. A profit of two pounds gave me confidence for the next purchases and sales. I was to discover later that buying and selling had to do with confidence and belief in what you invested. Time and experience made me more confident, more daring and thus the game became more exciting, more exhilarating, more risky and simultaneously more emotionally and financially demanding.

Looking back I admit that perhaps my petrol to and from that auction cost more than two pounds. Did I think of that though? Never! I was an apprentice prepared to invest time and money to learn, learn and learn! It was education with a difference! It was education in the real business world with real money and real dangers. I had embarked on a new real life degree, but I was not aware of that at the time. I was in the zone, I was inside the zone and it was instant love.

My time, my expenses and investments in tools of the trade such as one-pound catalogues and the Antiques Gazette put me in negative territory very quickly. I could not see that though as I was gradually getting deeper into the auction world, learning things, but paying dearly at the same time. It did not matter to me as I was enjoying that new world I had accidentally discovered and consciously chose to follow and make part of my life. I never regretted the few pounds investment in 1983, even though it was a serious sum of money to spend week in week out.

First auction investments - ignorance is bliss!

Late October 1983, Lewes, Sussex

Three days before attending the auction at Lewes in October 1983 I visited my bank and insisted on seeing the manager for a temporary loan of £2000 there and then. I was a newcomer to England and knew nothing about how loans were made and how one approached the bank manager for a facility. However, I had the audacity to demand to see the bank manager, at that moment and on that day, which happened luckily! He was a gentleman in his fifties who, I assumed, saw many people like myself. I explained my problem quickly and in a few minutes he addressed me warmly, smiling and with concern, Mr Constant, I do not know you. You are new to our bank. You have two accounts with us. One has two pounds in it and the other one zero. I cannot lend you any money. Go and do whatever you wish to do with antiques and auctions and come back in six months. If I see the progress I expect in your accounts, I will lend you £10,000, not just two.

I was disappointed, to say the least! I was extremely angry with the man. How dare he tell me that and reject a request for such a small loan? It was a setback! There was no money from anybody. I had to do it with my own funds. Perhaps it’s better like that, I admitted to myself. Make it on my own, like I always did. That was it! No thousands of pounds to invest in antiques! No loans! No overdrafts and significantly no bank to hassle me about what I was doing with my own money.

It was the last week of October and my friend and I made our way to Gorringes auctions in Lewes, East Sussex. We had the same passion, the same goals and ambitions! Buy antiques for profit, whatever took our fancy and looked good. Both of us had no idea about antiques or art; we were naïve and adventurous but we were not aware of that. Were we rich? Absolutely not! It was a struggle to survive and make ends meet for both of us - I, as a supply teacher, and he, as a property developer.

How ignorant we were! How happy we were in our ignorance! Nobody to ask for advice, nowhere to look for information, nobody to volunteer a bit of caution and a caring word; worst of all we felt we knew everything! If this sounds familiar, please be careful and carry on reading.

I had £210 in my pocket, my own hard-earned money. That was all the money I had in the bank. Yes, the total amount I had left from one month’s work and I took it all out to invest in antiques about which I knew nothing! Aren’t I glad I had no more to spend! Wasn’t that bank manager wise! Was I so clever or that naive? I can say now, with no shame, I was very ignorant and naive. My knowledge of art or antiques was absolutely nil, non-existent! Yet, I was going to invest the only money I had in the bank. Irresponsible, to say the least!

Prices in those days were low compared to today. Computers were rare, the Internet non- existent in any form or way for research. The only thing that helped me was a good eye for spotting beautiful things, which by the way I’m sure most of us are able to do. The drive to Lewes was pleasant. The conversation was about the items we had planned to buy. Soon enough we arrived just outside Lewes. High up above the town the narrow road slowly descended under a golden canopy of trees to reveal the picturesque town nestling in the distance. As we approached I couldn’t help but marvel at the beauty of this place and its surroundings. The old centre with its narrow streets, historic houses and quaint small shops continued to delight as we drove through.

We eventually stumbled on the auction house as we made our way through the winding main street of Lewes. Gorringes auctions looked unimpressive from the outside. The premises spoke of an old house and an old auction business. Inside was no different. Furniture crammed the rooms downstairs as well as upstairs, and displayed throughout, wherever there was space, were vases, pots, porcelain, paintings, jewellery, books, wine and what else. A mixed sale of everything!

Where do I start? Which items do I target? Where was the edge? Where was that extra something, that special knowledge in me to make this new passion work? I had no idea, not a clue!

The auction prices of most items in that first auction were way beyond my means and my pocket. In spite of that I managed to buy a pair of vases, two pictures, a Chinese bowl, and I cannot remember what else. Oh, yes, a large Arab/Greek looking bronze tray, which I still have. It cost me two pounds, dear readers. I still treasure it. My friend did exactly the same thing and we generally spent good money for things nobody else wanted to buy. That, of course, we did not know in our naivety. We spent the whole day at the auction and after paying for our purchases we started packing them happily into boxes for the trip back to London.

The auctioneer did know about prices and the value of items. On approaching us he stated jokingly and somewhat concerned, Hi chaps! I see you bought many different things. I hope you knew what you bought!

Oops! The truth was starkly spoken!!

I looked at my friend, he looked at me while we were packing our purchases and in unison laughed his remark off and cursed him quietly in our own lingo! How dare he? What does he know? Obviously, we thought the auction arena was just for us to roam and prosper, just like that. That remark of the auctioneer was a wake up call. I knew nothing, I had no experience and I had to knuckle down and work hard, if I was serious about auctions and auction markets.

The auction baptism was fortunately not a drowning one! The mish mash of vases, bowls, watercolours and oils proved worth the experience. I sold all those items, except the tray. I made a little profit, but the most came from a lovely painting I bought for £10 and sold for £60 soon after. I cannot remember the artist, but it was a very good return at that time. The pair of modern vases was really attractive. The same auction that sold the candelabra for me managed to sell them for £60 soon after, thus doubling my £30 investment, minus about eight pounds selling commission. I was really pleased with those results. It boosted my confidence and my belief that whatever looked pretty could make profits. It also partly covered my petrol and car costs to various small auctions in London.

It was an expensive business when catalogues cost one to five pounds each and any trip outside London cost a minimum ten pounds. It was expensive when buying and selling through auction with commissions and other expenses totalling about 20% of the trade. There was a family to feed and a household to set up. There were car expenses and personal expenses. Making ten pounds from time to time was not enough. However, supply teaching brought the money in and made it possible for me to pursue the dream that was just beginning to emerge and take vague shape - become a dealer and investor in antiques and art while still teaching.

It was a struggle but which beginning is not? Nevertheless, the decision had been taken! Trade in antiques! Was making a few pounds per item sufficient enough to cover my costs? Experience would tell me soon enough! It was not worth my troubles unless I concentrated on one area and one area in depth! Antique furniture was out of the question. It was bulky, needed transportation and warehouse facilities, and prices, although good, were not exceptional. Porcelain, jewellery etc I did not find interesting enough. Art, however, I loved. It was easy to store and transport and most importantly the most promising and lucrative. Although I was a novice, I concluded that:

• There were plenty of art auctions worldwide offering good opportunities to make money.

• Profits from paintings were good, even though I had only minor experience of this myself.

• There was a chance to buy that lost masterpiece or that sleeper nobody spots, the dream of every art investor!

Chapter II - The Lucky Break – Sydney Lawrence or Laurence?

Back to study!

Fine art was the firm decision! There was a large house with only one painting on all that wall space, and that was perhaps another reason for my decision. Fill up the walls. Enjoy art for art’s sake, even if for a short time.

I had already worked this out - paintings selling in the minor sales of the major auction houses such as Sotheby’s and Christie’s in London could then be re-sold at local and country auctions at higher prices. Thus Sotheby’s saleroom in Conduit Street followed by Christie’s South Kensington, then Phillips and Bonhams were the venues I started visiting and buying from.

Looking back at what happened in those early months and years, I must admit, I was very, very lucky with my purchases, taking into account the fact that I started the whole enterprise with a bank of two hundred pounds and no knowledge of artists or auction prices.

There were no reference books, no art price indexes, no picture banks for comparisons, no sales catalogues simply because they were beyond my means. To add to my predicament, I had an art taste that needed education and training. Yet, I was trying to enter a market of billions and compete with dealers who had been there for years or generations and who knew the market inside out. However, I believed there is always room for new faces in any market at any time, especially if they work hard.

My aim was to make between ten to one hundred pounds per purchase, whereas the seasoned dealers, I was to discover later, were after thousands per transaction and were not interested in my price bracket of purchases. Buying things on instinct and relying on my taste and likings was perfect, since no other tools were available to me. Was that practice a good one however?

My safety valve was simple; all the items I invested in cost less than one hundred pounds. I bought value for money initially, without realising it, without knowing it! Learning the trade and educating myself by visiting auctions all over the city and in the country was interesting, and if I made a mistake, very likely, it was not going to be the end of the world. All the money I traded with was mine and no bank had any concerns about my activities.

It was imperative to work out systems and ways to compensate for my ignorance and inexperience.

• I started putting together booklets with the names of artists coming up at auction, their selling prices and brief descriptions of the items sold. Something the good art reference companies do today.

• Investing in inexpensive art books, small reference publications and most importantly auction catalogues from late 1984 onwards allowed me hope of buying something with potential.

Catalogues were expensive, but I worked out that they were essential and invaluable as they carried images and full cataloguing details. I was hoping that perhaps these investments would lead me to something profitable one day, hopefully soon and before it was too late, as these investments were costing me more money than I was making at the time!

I was in a rush – always a serious problem for me! I was working towards a new degree in art investment and I had to study hard and graduate quickly. That I did and no exaggeration! Catalogues were my textbooks! I studied them. I revisited them week after week, month after month memorizing names, photos and prices. I was a very serious student determined to make a success of this new enterprise of mine.

Sotheby’s, Christie’s were intimidating places for others but not for me. I walked into those auctions houses like a master, viewing and buying catalogues! Just buying catalogues of important sales! That’s all I could afford to do! Would the day come when I would be able to invest and trade in real fine art? The dream was on!

A watercolour of quality, but who is Sydney Lawrence?

January 1984, Sotheby’s London

The fortnightly art sale at Sotheby’s Conduit Street was an event I always looked forward to. School teaching over for the day, I would head there in the afternoon with so much energy to view whatever was offered for sale! Where did I find that energy? Well, I was still young then and viewing and attending auctions gave me so much pleasure! If I managed to buy something, it made my efforts all the more worthwhile!

The truth was that I was still a neophyte buying insignificant art at the time. Unfortunately, I kept no records of purchases then, because whatever I was doing was an amateur’s activity. I did not have the financial resources or the knowledge to trade art successfully and so everything was done on the hoof and for personal satisfaction. Yes, I had aspirations, but I never thought dealing in art would take off quickly and develop into a small investment business.

It was at one of these Conduit Street auctions that I purchased the Sydney Lawrence watercolour for £75 in early 1984. It was a lovely watercolour of the Bay of Naples, a popular Mediterranean subject with many collectors and especially those coming from that part of the world. I searched the few catalogues in my collection but found no record of any Lawrence. My booklets with names and results yielded no information either. There was no reference to Lawrence anywhere. So disappointing and so frustrating!

No disappointment with the watercolour sitting pretty on my wall however! What a joy! Even though it was small and by an unknown artist, I loved it. I kept staring at the setting of the Vesuvius area in Southern Italy - Vesuvius majestic in the distance, fishing boat in the foreground, fisherman tenderly tending his boat and the calm blue sea and sky as one on the horizon. It was a beautiful watercolour by a very capable hand, but who was Lawrence? I did not know and it frustrated me. Perhaps I will be able to keep it for myself, I kept thinking childishly.

However, I was dealing in pictures and hoping to make a few pounds profit. I had to shift the money and move on. My working money was a few hundred pounds, perhaps just over a thousand pounds by the end of 1984. Everything I did was to do with the venture and everything that was a leftover from my earnings as a supply teacher I used in the business. That was it. No more! Frustrating at times but also a blessing! I needed time to learn the ins and outs of the business at least to a minimum. I was an apprentice! I was a mega-ignoramus!

Who was the artist Sydney Lawrence? How much was it worth? It had cost me a fortune - yes, seventy-five pounds was a fortune for me in 1984! Perhaps the watercolour was my biggest art investment at that time, I cannot be sure. It is over twenty-nine years ago now! I was trading other cheaper items and making small sums of money, but this I kept because I knew nothing of the artist. I just had a feeling about it being special. I felt it was a watercolour of importance. I knew it, and yet how did I know? I didn’t! Perhaps it was sheer luck I kept it. Perhaps my Fairy Godmother was guiding me. I waited for something to happen, but what that something would be I had no idea. Investment in reference publications and new knowledge might help, I hoped!

The Antiques Gazette opens my eyes! Sydney Laurence

October 1984

‘The Antiques Gazette’ was a worthwhile investment for keeping in touch with the art world. In those days it was about thirty pounds subscription for the whole year, if my memory serves me right. The publication is the trade paper for antiques and art in Britain and many parts of the world, thus essential to any serious art investor/trader. Reading it, referring to its articles and its sales’ results was food for thought and knowledge.

It was about late October, early November 1984 when I spotted something in an advertisement of an art sale by Butterfields and Butterfields, a San Francisco, USA auction house. This auction was new to me and of course I had never bought or sold anything there. It was too far away, too expensive and way above my league at that time! There in the ad was a photo of a painting by a Sydney Laurence. Could this be what I was searching for? Could this Sydney ‘Laurence’ be the Sydney ‘Lawrence’ of the watercolour? The style and subject of this painting appeared completely unrelated to the watercolour. It was a very long shot, but I had to investigate it. Nothing was going to stop me from inquiring about the two names and possible relationship. It was preferable to doing nothing and sitting idle.

Butterfields and Butterfields responded quickly and unexpectedly to my letter. I was expecting an answer, but what a response was that! Yes, the artist was one and the same. Unbelievable! A minute difference in the name or signature means a different artist, usually. Not on this occasion. How fortunate! What a lucky coincidence! Within a month the expert on the artist confirmed that the watercolour was by Sydney Laurence and the first lessons in trading were in place.

• Never sell an artwork if you are not sure about its creator.

• Never fear to make inquiries about a property of yours even when many facts speak against such inquiry.

• A small sum of money in an artwork might turn out to be a major sum when sold.

Sydney Laurence

(American, [1865-1940] Travelled to England with his wife in 1889, settling in the artists’ colony of St Ives, Cornwall. Returned to the USA in 1903 where he made Alaska his home and became famous for his landscapes of Alaska and Mount Mckinley. Auction price range £3000-150,000)

What a stroke of luck! The American artist was selling up to $20,000 for lovely oil paintings. Was he the artist who would make my dreams come true? The excitement of trading art was mounting. I slept and woke up dreaming about a good sale of a few hundred pounds. Making up to fifty or a hundred pounds profit from a single sale was very good but to make a few hundred would be a dream come true. It would be a miracle!

First time in a USA auction - roses or thorns?

22nd February 1985, San Francisco, USA

Luck was on my side up to that point. The painting was shipped via the Post Office to Butterfields for as little as twenty-five pounds. I could not afford the more expensive art shippers who offered a great service but at a price.

February was at hand and the painting was in the Butterfields mixed paintings February Sale with an estimate of $1200-1800. It would have been magnificent had it sold at $1200, my reserve. Would it though? Could I make £700 from just one sale?

The first sale in the USA was a nerve-racking event and experience. I was far away physically, but much closer than one would imagine mentally. Worry, anxiety, pressure, hope and hopelessness, real torture! Nearly everything depended on it. What would I do if the Lawrence failed to sell? Unsold was my biggest fear. That would mean unsold charges, illustration expenses, shipping the watercolour back. How much would it all come to? How much would it cost me to ship it back? Would they ship it for me or would the shippers skin me? It was scary for an amateur and penniless beginner. Ten pounds was a big sum in those days, hundreds of pounds in unsold charges and shipping meant catastrophe! I was the only breadwinner supporting a family of three, with another baby on the way. A mistake of a few pounds meant hardship for all, a mistake of a couple of hundred pounds meant real pain.

In spite of all the fears everything else pointed to a good sale. To make the work more desirable, the expert on the artist had confirmed the authenticity of the work and written a great footnote in the catalogue. Details such as that add to the price of an item and assist to a better sale.

The watercolour was to be sold in the early morning hours, our time. Do you think I slept a wink that night? No way! The awful, terrifying thoughts, the positive, unrealistic thoughts, unsold nightmares and selling dreams all colluded to drive me mad with anxiety and worry. It was a torture waiting to find out the outcome of the sale. Waiting until the following afternoon when I made the call to Butterfields was like spending time in jail. Had my dream of making serious money come true or my nightmares become reality?

Lot ... Miss, the Sydney Laurence watercolour, what is the result please? I asked terrified. Silence, seconds passed. They seemed hours to me.

That sold for $2500 sir. Sudden, loud and clear!

How much did you say miss? I asked again, distrusting my hearing.

Twenty-five hundred dollars sir.

I could not believe it! Two thousand, five hundred dollars! That was double the money I had earned over two months from teaching and more than double the money I had available to trade art. I sat down, took it all in!

Fantastic! Great! Unbelievable! I jumped up and down screaming with happiness, punching the air with fists and feet. Yes! Yes! Yes! It had sold, sold for $2500. That was beyond my wildest dreams and expectations. That was a highly respectable sum of money. The net proceeds came to £1800, a return over the year an incredible 2000%! Exodus from the pennies to the pounds! Lucky beginner or what?

The impossible joy of the first leap into art had happened unexpectedly and out of the blue at Sotheby’s London. That was the event that changed my life forever, the decisive moment a new direction was furrowed and the gate to a treasure cave unlocked.

The trade of the Lawrence came hand in hand with many valuable lessons:

• Experts at auction houses are sometimes ignorant of artists who are not well known. Take their advice with a pinch of salt, especially when the artist you present to them is relatively unknown and not a name appearing at auction often!

• Seasoned dealers did not know who Lawrence was, thus I concluded I had a chance to succeed in the business in spite of my lack of knowledge at the time.

• There were many artists who were unknown to the English investors but well known to the collectors of their nation of origin.

• Many paintings are unsigned or signed with signatures that are difficult to read or identify. I need not spell out what to do. Or do I? Keep quiet if you are a buyer; make everything known if you are a seller.

The Lawrence watercolour gave me my first serious return on a small investment within eighteen months of trading in art. Up to that point I would say I had invested time and money learning the basics of the trade. That profit was extremely important for me as it balanced my expenses and input into the business. At the same time it gave me a serious financial push forward, a good sum of money to invest in something more important and perhaps more profitable.

It was time to see the bank manager! I had not returned to the bank asking for money after October 1983. However since that time my trades had been frequent, and although the sums involved were small my account clearly illustrated that the activity was profitable. The latest proceeds from the Lawrence sale had made the account look even more attractive.

On seeing the banker in April 1985 he agreed to an overdraft of £6,000, thus keeping his promise of eighteen months earlier. The business that had started with £10 in 1983 now had a trading sum of nearly £10,000 that included the loan, all the savings from work and any profits made up to that time.

In art I trusted all. Trading art was working pretty well and I was full of optimism and hope, even though I was still far from being a competent and well-read trader/investor. However, to balance my ignorance, I had luck and hard work on my side.

Chapter III - Dutch Canal Scene – A lucky Escape?

Art dealing is very satisfying, but it is also full of banana skins that nearly all dealers and investors step on sooner or later. This is more so in the initial stages of investing in art, which can put an end to the dream before it even starts.

April 1985, Cologne, Germany

‘Zugeschrieben’ - you beat me! What did this word mean? What does it mean? I had never heard of it, never seen it before and I speak and read German to some degree. Art’s specialist vocabulary or jargon is very important and one has to know the difference between art described as: ‘follower of’ ‘studio of’ ‘after’ an artist ‘attributed to’ an artist or indeed by the artist.

The auction catalogue from Karola Van Ham in Cologne arrived two weeks before their auction. Requesting catalogues from auction houses was part of my business as early as 1985. They kept me informed, taught me about artists and prices and were literally my textbooks. I had plenty of time to go through the catalogue and the images and study the contents. It was a mixed sale of all kinds of art, china, pottery, furniture and lord knows what else. That was a good omen. A mixed sale might hide sleepers in it! Experts, who normally knew more than an amateur like me, usually catalogued specialist fine art sales!

What was my chance of a bargain in Germany? Very slim, judging from the illustrated catalogue. However, there was an impressive painting that attracted me immediately, but it was not a sleeper! The estimate of £3000 was just right, if I bought at that price. I felt comfortable enough to buy the most expensive item I had ever bought at auction up to that moment. Actually, I had never bought anything above one hundred pounds until that April, never having had the money before! Now with a sale of £1800 and also an overdraft of £6000, it became possible to buy a painting of £3000 and possibly another one or two. Was I going to leave the money in the account to be wasted? No chance! Not me! Always in a rush and always impatient! My thinking was money makes money and I had already proven to myself that with nearly no money I had accumulated a significant sum of money. If I was any good in this art business there was a lot more to be made!

Johan Barthold Jongkind

(Dutch, [1819-1891] Jongkind painted in a classical/romantic style and then became the forefather of Impressionism in the early 1860s. Auction price range £2000 – 80,000)

The Johan Barthold Jongkind painting in the Van Ham catalogue looked magnificent in colour; it was signed twice and dated 1843. Depicting a beautiful Dutch canal scene with a windmill, boats and figures at work it oozed quality and immediately attracted me. Was I good enough to judge the quality? Was I experienced enough to make the huge jump from one hundred pounds to a £3000 plus painting? On the face of it, NO, but I was in a rush! I had to make up for lost ground!

Johan Barthhold Jongkind - Dutch Canal Scene

Looking back, it was a huge leap that might have proven to be my undoing and the end of my plans and dreams to be an art investor. Yes, by early 1985, I felt it was a good second job and para-occupation to get my teeth into. I had made a penny or two and that went to my head. This can be done time and again, I kept repeating to myself. It had worked from Brighton to Birmingham, from London to San Francisco. Why not again and again everywhere? I was capable, I had proven that already, but not with a £3000 purchase!

The Cologne catalogue was very impressive and more impressive for 1985 were the colour illustrations of their best paintings among which was the Jongkind. It was the best I had ever seen in any catalogue I had gone through; it was a masterpiece and I was infatuated. Described with the whole name of the artist, a fact indicating it was a work by the artist, and with that in mind and as a guarantee, I left a bid of £3000 (roughly £3700 when commissions were added) without asking for any further information. Details such as authenticity, provenance, exhibitions and literature (‘APEL’), essential when making any art purchase, did not enter my mind. How naïve and ignorant was that! In a nutshell I had decided to invest so much money in a painting even though:

• I knew very little about the artist and had only two results written down in my booklets. All I knew was that the artist’s work was selling in London at double the estimate of the Cologne auction house, but I had no idea of the images and style of the paintings that had been sold in London.

• I had not inquired about the authenticity, condition or provenance of the piece. The signatures persuaded me that the painting was by the artist and I felt the quality of the painting was considerably better than many paintings I had seen selling at auction in London for a lot more than three thousand pounds.

Could I say it was a masterpiece after just eighteen months in the art business? Was I qualified enough to have such a view? No! I do not think so. But there you are! I felt very confident. The attractive Jongkind won me over! I threw caution to the wind and jumped head first into the unknown world of expensive art. Trusting the auction and their cataloguing and without asking such basic words as authenticity, condition, provenance, I left a £3000 bid for the work of the Dutch master. I was buying in Germany from a catalogue written in German and I was staking about 40% of my cash and assets. It was a gamble, which could have serious consequences!

I was reckless, but was I also wrong? Yes! The catalogue was written in German and one word in the description of the painting stuck in my throat a couple of months after I had bought the painting. Zugeschreiben! I had not seen the word in the catalogue, had never heard of it and even if I had spotted it and read it, it would have meant nothing to me. Specialist vocabulary in fine art plays a major role in the value of a work of art and that was something I learnt soon enough.

A day after the auction I found out that I was the buyer of the Jongkind. I was very excited but also a little worried because I had left bids on three paintings and had ended up buying all three. (The two others were of no consequence, in the £500 bracket by insignificant artists.) On checking other prices and results in the paintings section of the auction, the story was similar, depressed sales and prices. No worries then, I reassured myself.

Anxious to get the paintings to London and see them in person, I flew to