A review of the December Old Master Sales in London

December is an exciting month, not just because Christmas is coming, it is also the last hurrah for the Old Master Painting season in London. Sotheby’s had the better pictures and therefore, the better of the results. Their Day Sale (lesser fry) at a total of £3.34M was roughly three times the value of Christie’s at £1.185M. Furthermore, Christie’s had a large total of lots unsold on the day, 40 out of 104 lots.

The Evening Sale (the top lots) followed a similar pattern with Sotheby’s sale to talling £32.72M, with Christie’s coming in at a more modest £13.14M. In fact, Sotheby’s top lot, Titian’s ‘Venus and Adonis’, at £11.1M made almost as much, on its own, as Christie’s whole sale.

They had a beautiful still life by the Haarlem painter Floris van Dijck, very similar in composition to the painting in the Rijksmuseum and one of my favourite pictures in that collection. This made £2.09M against a pre-sale estimate of £600,000-£800,000.

Also estimated at £600,000 – £800,000 was a dramatic seascape by Ivan Konstantinov Aivazovsky titled ‘The Wrath of the Seas’. I was particularly interested to see what happened to this painting, by a 19th Century Russian artist, bearing in mind what is going on in Ukraine. On the day it made a very healthy £1.729M, proving that Aivazovsky has an international reputation and is not just for local consumption!

During the view at Christie’s, I was intrigued to speculate what would happen to two portraits, in particular. The first was a portrait of Erasmus by Hans Holbein the Younger, court painter to Henry VIII and the second was, to my mind, a very beautiful portrait of Henrietta Maria, by Sir Anthony van Dyck, court painter to Charles I.

In the event, they both disappointed with the Holbein making £1.12M against an estimate of £1-1.5M and the Van Dyck limping away at £2.44M against an estimate of £2-4M. The highest price was £2.92M (estimate £2-3M) for ‘Reading Party’ by the French Rococo artist Jean Francois de Troy.

These sales told us nothing new about taste for Old Masters, but they did reinforce what I said in July and that is that there is keen interest in paintings by good hands, fresh to the market and in good state. Selling lesser things, which have been seen before, is a struggle.

Winslow Homer

I went to the Winslow Homer exhibition at the National Gallery last week and strongly recommend it to you. It is the first time his work has been shown en masse in the UK and there are no paintings by him in British Public Collections, despite his being a household name in the USA.

He started life painting scenes from the American Civil War and much of his work describes conflict, racial tensions, and other social problems. He also had a real obsession with the sea and spent nearly two years on the Northumbrian coast at Cullercoats, observing and recording the activities of the local fishing community and its struggle with the sea. For Homer, the sea was a source of pleasure, livelihood and terror depending on its mood. He painted numerous scenes of people being rescued from the tempestuous ocean.

I was very struck by a painting executed in 1904, which shows three men wearing sowesters and waterproofs in a rowing boat where the swell is so immense you can’t see the boat , and its title is ‘Kissing the Moon’. It reminded me of a passage in Joseph Conrad’s novella ‘Typhoon,’ where the waves are so great the characters in the boat see the moon disappear below the horizon and when it returns to view, appears to be dripping water. I wondered if this book could have had an influence on Winslow, so I googled it! Conrad began the novel in 1899 and it was subsequently serialized in Pall Mall Magazine between January and March 1902. It was first published in book form by Putnam in New York in 1902, two years before Winslow Homer painted the picture. I think I have answered my own question.

Winslow Homers don’t come up for auction very often, only 68 in the last 35 years. The world record for him (at auction ) was achieved in November 2014, by Sotheby’s in New York, when Mrs Paul Mellon’s ‘Watching the tide go out’, a tiny canvas, just over 12 x 16 in , made $4.5m.

The Light of the World

The last version of the Light of the World by William Holman Hunt o.m. (1827-1910)

This famous painting, ‘The last version of the Light of the World’, nearly life size, hangs in St Paul’s Cathedral, where it is admired by thousands of visitors every year. Sales of postcards and bookmarks of it also run to thousands annually. Very few people, however, will know of its peregrinations before it arrived in St Paul’s.

The painting was commissioned by Charles Booth, a rich ship owner and friend of the Hunts in 1903, by which time Holman Hunt was virtually blind, a combination of glaucoma and working in that minute painstaking Pre-Raphaelite way had taken its toll. So most of the painting was done by E R Hughes under Holman Hunt’s instruction, but this fact was not made public and Hunt took all the credit. When the painting was finished, it was decided that it should go on exhibition to the Christian parts of the Empire.

After a brief exhibition at the Fine Art Society in the Spring of 1904, ‘The last version of the Light of the World’ and its vast frame, together they weighed just under a ton, were crated up and sent to Glasgow. They set sail for Halifax, Nova Scotia in February 1905. In Halifax, where frame and canvas were reunited, it was exhibited in the York Theatre Assembly Rooms. Booth had already employed two men to accompany it and a third was hired here with the sole task of removing it from its frame in under three minutes in case of fire. Percy Fennell, one of its custodians, gave lectures about its symbolism during day and took up station in a hammock beside it at night, with a loaded revolver at the ready. From Halifax the painting went by train to Montreal, Toronto and Winnipeg. It reached Vancouver in September.

From Canada, it travelled to Australia. In Sydney it was seen by 25,000 visitors a day. People thought they had seen Jesus. They prayed in front of the painting, fainted and had profound religious experiences. The crowds in Sydney were pushing through turnstiles at the rate of one person every 2.99 seconds, ‘ladies had their hats crushed, sashes torn and blouses deranged’, to quote a local journalist and the Police struggled to keep order.

“The Light of the World” visited Adelaide, Broken Hill, Melbourne and Sydney and then arrived in Auckland, New Zealand on the morning of Easter Day, April 15th, 1906. After Auckland, it spent a day in New Plymouth and then went by train to Wanganui (I once sold to the National Gallery of New Zealand some drawings made by a Scots doctor of his house and garden which was the first building in what became Wanganui. I hadn’t a clue about the importance of what I was selling and completely under-sold them. I’m happy they found their way home, however!)

In Palmerston North it was displayed in the Opera House, where 15,000 people came to see it. Then on it went to Napier, Wellington, Christchurch and finally Invercargill. After a terrifyingly stormy crossing of the Tasman Sea it arrived in Hobart. Artificial lighting in Hobart was a problem, but the Tasmanian Woolgrower’s Association had a vast and well-lit warehouse, which they offered as a venue. “The Light of the World” was exhibited there, propped up on sacks of wheat, surrounded by bales of wool and seen by over 11,000 visitors in the first two days.

It made a return trip to Adelaide. The Director of the Museum there wrote a letter to Booth thanking him for the loan and telling him that 104,000 people had seen it in eight days. After exhibitions in Brisbane and Rockhampton, it set sail for Capetown and was shown there. It was also exhibited in Durban, Pietermaritsburg and Johannesburg, where, just as in Australasia, it drew vast crowds, 25,000 in Johannesburg alone.

By the time it returned home in 1907 after two years abroad, it had been seen by more than seven million people. It is extraordinary to reflect on what an impact this old fashioned, latter-day Pre-Raphaelite painting made on Britons and their empire when one considers that Fauvism was raging in France at the same time and Impressionism was dead.

But what of the model for Jesus, then one of the most recognisable images on the planet. He was called Domenico Mancini (b.1873) and he was a handsome, athletic lad who stood over six feet tall. He and six or seven siblings left Picinisco, the highest village in the Abruzzi mountains in central Italy and settled in Hammersmith in the late 1880s. They became barrow boys, often defending their pitches with their fists. Domenico’s nephew, Alf, in fact, became a professional boxer and had a career of 148 fights, between 1920 and 1931, starting as a featherweight and ending up a middleweight. The Golden Gloves pub in Fulham Palace Road, owned by the Mancini family, was a famous local landmark, when I first arrived in London.

It was in 1889 that the good-looking Domenico was first approached by Sir William Blake Richmond to model for him. Richmond had settled in Hammersmith after his second marriage and was an Italian speaker, having worked for some years with Nino Costa and the Etruscan school. He was also an old friend of Holman Hunt and may well have introduced the two.

It wasn’t long before Domenico suggested to his brothers that they, too, could make a decent living as models, posing in the studio in the winter and keeping costermongering for the summer months.

In the end, Domenico gave up the street life and became a professional model for the rest of his days. Amongst others, he posed for Alma Tadema, Sargent, Frank Brangwyn and Sir Jacob Epstein. He is the boy riding the horse in G F Watts’s magnificent sculpture “Physical Energy” in Kensington Gardens. He wore Edward VII’s robes for a state portrait of the King. Whilst posing for this, they had to slice the King’s patent pumps to accommodate Domenico’s bunions! Getting models to pose for portraits, notably full-length ones, is a tradition going back centuries. Grandees, and especially monarchs, have better things to do than stand for hours in heavy clothing. John Evelyn described going into Van Dycks studio and seeing, propped up against the wall, countless eight foot canvases of men in armour. This work was carried out by assistants. The portraits had no hands and their faces were blank ovals waiting for the great man to paint the important bits from life.

Last, but by no means least, his legs were used by Alfred Drury for his sculpture of Sir Joshua Reynolds, completed in 1931 and now in the courtyard of the Royal Academy, most of us will have seen them. Domenico Mancini died in 1958, the year I went to prep school.

NB

This article was only made possible by the brilliant, scholarly research done on the painting by Jeremy Maas, an old friend of mine and father of Rupert, who entertained our Wednesday Club in his gallery in the Summer. Jeremy published a 240 page book on this one painting in 1984. I dedicate the article to his memory.

Drama of Light and Land: The Martyn Gregory Collection of British Art

For the second time in two years, a good friend of mine has offered a portion of his stock for sale at one of the major London Auction Houses.

Last time around it was Rafael Valls at Sotheby’s, consigning Old Master oil paintings. I need not have fretted, all but 2 sold, but this time, it was Martyn Gregory offering British watercolours at Christie’s, a far more challenging proposition.

There are several reasons why watercolours do not chime with modern taste. The first is their fragility. We now know that light comes in particles and waves. We have always known that it generates heat and it fades watercolour pigments, if it hits them directly. This can take just a matter of a few years. They are also susceptible to attack from silverfish, if they are coated in Gum Arabic, the substance which made Osama Bin Laden’s family fortune, you may remember, and which was much used in the 19th Century by watercolourists to give depth to the colours. Silverfish love to eat Gum Arabic and when they do, it takes the pigment with it, leaving blank squiggles across the paper!

Watercolours are often painted on acidic paper and this can discolour and damage the pigments too. Furthermore, the big exhibition ‘machines’, the enormous watercolours ‘finished’ to a high degree, which the O.W.S. (Old Watercolour Society) and others produced in the early 19th Century, with a view to them holding their own, visually, when hung in exhibitions next to oil paintings, are totally out of fashion.

This is the background against which Martyn’s British Landscapes were offered. Christie’s were confident the sale would succeed and to sell 149 out of 194 lots proves them to be right. However, a closer analysis of what happened is revealing. The sale total was £559,864 including buyers’ premium, which adds nearly 34% to the hammer price. The lots averaged out at just over £3,700 each. When I was at Bonhams 10 years ago, we calculated that any lot selling for under £10,000 lost us money. (In this sale only 14 lots hit this threshold and that is including premiums) It must be the same for Christie’s. We can only speculate that they hope to get the rest of his stock in due course!

The landscapes that appealed most were wild places with dramatic stormy skies or lowering cloudy sunsets or both. The first 5 to exceed £10,000 were all Scottish scenes. Lot 5, the Turner of Oxford of Loch Torridon under a moody dawn sky was a very impressive example of this genre, as was his Sunset over Loch Coruisk on the Isle of Skye.

There was a classic harvesting scene by de Wint, painted on a warm late summer day at £15,000 and a fascinating and rare whaling scene in the Arctic by John Cleveley which made £20,000. However, despite these watercolours being well-chosen examples, in good condition, selected by an expert with a very good eye and promoted by the Christie’s International publicity machine, one came away with the feeling that British Watercolours, which were so sought after by collectors in previous decades, are somewhat passé.

In real terms most are worth a tenth of what they were 50 years ago. When will it be time for their re-assessment?

Reflections on The Old Master Sales

“There are too many auctions and not enough collectors”, that is how Scott Reyburn’s article in the Art Newspaper in December 2021 began. It makes rather gloomy reading for any fan of Old Masters, but it is, sadly, the truth. Sotheby’s and Christie’s sales were down 20% on the year before the pandemic (2019). If a good Old Master in excellent state comes on to the market after an absence of several decades, it will make a strong price but there are simply not enough of them.

For those of you lucky enough to have come to our champagne private view at Bonhams, you might be interested to hear what happened to the paintings we examined there. The beautiful unlined, unrestored Lawrence of Jane Allnutt with her spaniel made £150,000 hammer, which I think is less than it deserved. The early Turner watercolour of North Wales, painted in rather muted tones made £40,000 which was twice the bottom estimate. The famous racehorse, Flying Childers, however, did not fly and is still under starter’s orders.

Rather than dwell on what were basically mediocre paintings making mediocre prices, I’d like to draw your attention to a couple of surprises. There was a very fine portrait of a man attributed to Frans Hals
by Sotheby’s, which they offered with a very cagey estimate of £80,000-£120,000. The reason for their caution was that the two main experts on Frans Hals disagreed about its authenticity and the more recent
of the scholars suggested it was by his son.

Not knowing what his son’s work looks like, I thought it looked like Frans himself. I was not alone in this as it made £1.95 million!
Sotheby’s also had, like Bonhams, an early Turner, theirs too was also Welsh, but this one was in oil and South Walian. It was a view of Cilgerran Castle dated 1799 and made £1 million against an estimate of £300,000-£500,000 proving once again the magic of the Turner name. The Constables on offer had a more varied outcome mostly due to the erratic estimating.
I am into my 6th decade of looking at Old Masters professionally and I am feeling the icy blast of change. The storm of interest in NFTs is going to have a detrimental effect on the way all collectors perceive art. The young are tech-savvy and non-materialistic, so is there a subtler way of collecting than virtually? Will the virtual supersede the real?

If I had £5,000 to invest what would I buy?

David Oxtoby prints

If my godfather left me £5,000, I wouldn’t hesitate to spend every penny buying the suite of etchings (24), which Dave Oxtoby produced in 1974.

David Jowett Greaves Oxtoby is undoubtedly one of Britain’s greatest printmakers, as the show at the British Museum proved a few summers ago. He was one of the notorious ‘Bradford Mafia’, a group of young Yorkshire artists, who after attending the Regional College of Art in Bradford, came to London to further their education at the Royal College of Art and The Royal Academy schools. As well as Oxtoby, the group included David Hockney, Norman Stevens A.R.A, John Loker and Mick Vaughn. Before he had left the Royal Academy schools, Oxtoby had his first one man show in New York. His was and is a prodigious talent.

By the early 1970s his hands were starting to crack, and he was told that he was allergic to the acrylic paints he was using. After taking medical advice, he took up etching and what a triumph that was. In collaboration with J.C. Editons he produced a suite of 24 immensely complicated, in some cases, 4 colour, etchings. I have the good fortune to own a set of artist’s proofs.

In 1974 I worked for Alex Postan Fine Art and was entrusted with getting publicity for the show of etchings, which included watercolours and acrylics as well as prints. It was the easiest job I have ever had. Marina Vaizey wrote a half page review of it in The Telegraph, Bill Packer, a half page in the Financial Times and it was in the list of the 10 best things to do this Christmas in London in the Daily Express. Rod Stewart came to the private view. Oxtoby went on to exhibit with the Redfern Gallery in Cork Street in the 70s where the private views would sell out. Elton John bought Oxtoby’s canvases in vast numbers, for prices that were somewhere between Hockney and Picasso. He is still with the Redfern.

He has had more than 50 solo exhibitions and taken part in more than 70 group shows, yet for much of the last 30 years has lived like a recluse and kept all his latest work from public scrutiny. The result of this has had an adverse effect on the value of his work.

Oxtoby has not had the recognition for the brilliance of his draftsmanship and use of colour from the establishment that his oeuvre deserves. This seems to be because his work is inspired by popular culture, pop, rock and blues music, which is considered low brow and because he works from photographs, despite knowing subjects like Jimi Hendrix, George Harrison and Roger Daltrey well.

He was 83 in January and is not in good health. The cracked hands, which turned him into a printmaker, were actually caused by misdiagnosed diabetes. What future generations will make of his work remains to be seen, but I believe he is ready for a critical re-assessment and should take his rightful place amongst the greats of late 20th/early 21st century British art.

If I had £5,000 to invest what would I buy?

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David Oxtoby prints
If my godfather left me £5,000, I wouldn’t hesitate to spend every penny buying the suite of etchings (24), which Dave Oxtoby produced in 1974.
David Jowett Greaves Oxtoby is undoubtedly one of Britain’s greatest printmakers, as the show at the British Museum proved a few summers ago. He was one of the notorious ‘Bradford Mafia’, a group of young Yorkshire artists, who after attending the Regional College of Art in Bradford, came to London to further their education at the Royal College of Art and The Royal Academy schools. As well as Oxtoby, the group included David Hockney, Norman Stevens A.R.A, John Loker and Mick Vaughn. Before he had left the Royal Academy schools, Oxtoby had his first one man show in New York. His was and is a prodigious talent.
By the early 1970s his hands were starting to crack, and he was told that he was allergic to the acrylic paints he was using. After taking medical advice, he took up etching and what a triumph that was. In collaboration with J.C. Editons he produced a suite of 24 immensely complicated, in some cases, 4 colour, etchings. I have the good fortune to own a set of artist’s proofs.

In 1974 I worked for Alex Postan Fine Art and was entrusted with getting publicity for the show of etchings, which included watercolours and acrylics as well as prints. It was the easiest job I have ever had. Marina Vaizey wrote a half page review of it in The Telegraph, Bill Packer, a half page in the Financial Times and it was in the list of the 10 best things to do this Christmas in London in the Daily Express. Rod Stewart came to the private view. Oxtoby went on to exhibit with the Redfern Gallery in Cork Street in the 70s where the private views would sell out. Elton John bought Oxtoby’s canvases in vast numbers, for prices that were somewhere between Hockney and Picasso. He is still with the Redfern.
He has had more than 50 solo exhibitions and taken part in more than 70 group shows, yet for much of the last 30 years has lived like a recluse and kept all his latest work from public scrutiny. The result of this has had an adverse effect on the value of his work.
Oxtoby has not had the recognition for the brilliance of his draftsmanship and use of colour from the establishment that his oeuvre deserves. This seems to be because his work is inspired by popular culture, pop, rock and blues music, which is considered low brow and because he works from photographs, despite knowing subjects like Jimi Hendrix, George Harrison and Roger Daltrey well.
He was 83 in January and is not in good health. The cracked hands, which turned him into a printmaker, were actually caused by misdiagnosed diabetes. What future generations will make of his work remains to be seen, but I believe he is ready for a critical re-assessment and should take his rightful place amongst the greats of late 20th/early 21st century British art.

Last week’s Old Master Sales in London

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Last week’s Old Master sales in London provedonce again, that good Old Masters in an excellent state of preservation and fresh to the market make very solid prices.
The pick of the bunch were definitely at Christie’s where the evening sale made £45M as opposed to Sotheby’s comparatively paltry £17.2M. In fact, the tiny pen and ink study of the Head of a Bear by Leonardo da Vinci, which sold at Christies for £8.857M made half the whole of the Sotheby’s evening sale on it’s own. My stand-out lots at Christie’s were first the exquisite Music Lesson by Frans van Mieris, on panel made out from a small arched-top painting to a larger rectangle by the artist himself, which, at £3.5M indicated that no-one was put off by the alteration to its shape. Second was the magnificent large View of Verona by Bernardo Bellotto, Canaletto’s nephew, which took £10.575M. My third choice was the very rare canvas of Saint Andrew by the French follower of Caravaggio, Georges de la Tour. This made a very respectable £4M. I don’t know how many paintings by this rare master are still in private hands, but it will be a tiny number. The only disappointment to my mind was the beautiful Lawrence portrait of Richard Meade, which sold for £598K, within the estimate but not a true reflection of its worth.
Sotheby’s was not such a rosy picture, with 21of the 50 paintings not finding a buyer on the night. The large Turner sea piece of 1808 made £4.79M with premiums, but had recently been on the market for £8M. The Willem Kalf still life made £1.46M despite being in rather worn condition.
One of my particular favourites was the luscious View of Port Louis in Mauritius, by William Hodges, R.A. in oil on paper. Hodges is famous for accompanying Captain Cook to the South Pacific and painted the only portrait of him from life. This canvas made a healthy £189,000.

 

 

Why I Love Researching Artists and Paintings

By Dave Dallas, Old Master Specialist

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Image 0125 George Frederick Harris

I was recently asked by a collector friend in New York to do some research on the American painter G F Harris. All I had to go on were his initials. I subsequently discovered he is called Gregory Frank Harris, was born in 1953 and paints pretty girls by the sea in an accomplished latter-day Impressionist style.
However, before I discovered his true identity, I stumbled on a 19th century Welsh painter George Frederick Harris, who was born in Birmingham on October 30th 1856, but lived most of his life in Merthyr Tydfil. Merthyr was an unlikely place for a would-be artist in the Victorian age as it was a town with strong coal mining roots, but it was prosperous and this led to it having a large Jewish community. In fact, it had its own Synagogue and the pink opaline glass lamps from this building are now in the collection of the St Fagan’s National Museum of History, Cardiff.

Queenie
Rolf Harris

George Frederick Harris was a decent portrait and still-life painter, I don’t know how successful he was but there are over 40 paintings by him in public art collections. In 1920 he left Wales for Australia but sadly died of pneumonia in Sydney 4 years later.
His artistic legacy, however, lives on in his grandson, Rolf. Rolf entertained many children in the UK in the 1960s with his broad-brush painting technique, singing to himself on live British television and painting briskly with a decorator’s brush. The seemingly random first strokes then turned into a cabin amongst palm trees or whatever. The trick was to try and work out what the subject was before he finished the painting.
In 2005, he painted a portrait of H.M. The Queen. Now he is detained at her displeasure. You never know what you are going to unearth when you start a little gentle research.

Girls on a beach

My Highlights from the Sotheby’s Old Master Sale in April 2021

By Dave Dallas, Old Master Specialist

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Sotheby’s Old Master Sale, which ended on April 28th, produced a total of just over £2m which is a fair reflection on the dullness of the things on offer. There were the usual unwanted portraits, swooning saints and boers carousing.

However, the picture that stood out for me, and to be fair, to Sotheby’s, as it was picked as one of their 5 highlights of the sale, was an atmospheric view of Santa Maria della Salute seen from the lagoon by David Roberts, R.A..

I have always loved oil sketches done on the spot and this one is painted in very thin oil paint, more like a watercolour technique on paper laid down on panel. When an artist is trying to catch the play of light across a landscape, or in this case, the sea, it necessitates working at speed and the beauty of this is that the artist does not have time to conform to the conventions of his day. Roberts was the son of a shoemaker from near Edinburgh and such was his facility for drawing architecture that he was known as the Scottish Canaletto.

You would never guess this David Roberts was painted in the 1850s. It is timeless, which is why, despite being only 12 ½ x 21 ins, it made over £32,000. Quite rightly!


David Roberts, R.A. (1796-1864)
Venice, a view of the Basilica of Santa Maria della Salute
Oil on paper21 x 121/2 ins

Below is a plein-air (outdoor) oil sketch by Jean Honoré Fragonard done in the 1760s, which looks like a 20th Century work of art.


Jean Honoré Fragonard (1732-1806)
Mountain Landscape at Sunset, c. 1765
Oil on paper
Approx. 8 ½ x 13 ins