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THE WISDOM OF THE AGES
More wise words from Mrs Howard Barker
A little knowledge is doubly dangerous in the antiques world, and triply so at an auction sale, where a little rival bidding acts as a driving impetus and dispels – for the moment, at least – all doubts. Friends, unless they happen to have specialised knowledge on the subject, are usually more of a hindrance than a help. They either regard the article you have set your heart on with a sort of amazed tolerance – which in spite of you affects your opinion of it – or else their enthusiasm is so violent that it flatters your taste and your judgement, and you find yourself bidding far beyond the value of the piece.
But no one collects antiques without making some mistakes. And so, if you care for a thing enough, from the aesthetic angle, not to mind terribly if you find later on that you are landed with what is partly a fake, or maybe a simple reproduction, then go ahead. Pay what you believe the piece to be worth to you and, if you are happy, let it go at that. Afterwards, when you have learned a little more, you may wish to be rid of it, but, if in the meantime you are pleased with your choice, that is what matters most.
It is fatal to collect antiques because it is the correct thing to do. It is dreadful to buy something just because some expert tells you that it is a choice piece. “What care I how fair she be if she be not fair to me!” applies pointedly to old things, and, if a dealer shows you some piece, maybe with a bit of romantic history attached, and tells you that it is perfect, it is simply a stupid form of pride for you to agree with him and murmur that it is marvellous if in your heart you consider it to be hideously ugly. The dealer may be looking at it entirely from the angle of a connoisseur – there may not be another like it in existence – and possibly visualises it as a suitable adjunct for a place like the Palace of Holyroodhouse rather than as an asset for the average home.
So do not be tempted to go after any antique which does not really appeal to you. If all your friends like it and you do not, then don’t be persuaded against your will to buy it.
A practical reminder is to steer clear of any damaged piece that is put up for auction, as with antiques an article in a doubtful state of repair is usually a bad proposition. Not only is it difficult to match up wood, but one repair very often leads to another, and you find yourself up against that awful shibboleth, ‘the cost of the man’s time’, which generally takes away all the glamour of the bargain. And, of course, the necessity for avoiding damaged pieces applies with double force to china. A cracked teapot, even though it is two hundred years old, is not much of an acquisition to anybody, and yet not so long ago I was shown a much-mended old plate for which one woman had triumphantly outbid one of her friends!
Rugs, by the way, can often be picked up quite cheap at a sale, but here again it is necessary to be able to discern between rugs that have come from Persia and the East, and those machine-made articles that are modern products of British workshops. Really old rugs are frequently threadbare in parts, but even after they have reached this stage they are good for many years without apparently deteriorating much further. A rug that is actually worn into holes, however, is a poor bargain, because repairs to Persian rugs are almost prohibitive in cost. And again, if one part is weak it is probable that the rest of the rug is not as strong as it should be.
All of which would seem to indicate that the searcher for antiques is not likely to reap a rich harvest at an auction sale. This is certainly true of the novice, who has no experience to guide the inclination. And the very worst kind of sale for the amateur is that where a large proportion of the furniture to be sold is antique. Sales of this kind naturally attract dealers in great numbers, which of course increases the competition.
Every auction seems to bring out a motley crowd: a sprinkling of amateurs with a furtive, half-ashamed expression, some little old ladies who pipe so timorous that their feeble bidding is unheard, one or two antique enthusiasts who look a lot and say little and the dealers. They attend in their thousands, or so it seems when they are bidding against you.
There is the alert, discriminating dealer who is interested only in antiques; there is his feminine prototype who extends her activities to furniture in general and there is the, frankly, second-hand merchant who is out to buy anything at a price. They seem poles apart, and yet all wear the stamp of the professional. With the experience of years behind them, their bidding is so calm that it is barely perceptible at times – the merest nod or inclination of the head, or a flick of the catalogue, and a sale is accomplished!
Actually, it takes a bit of courage to bid when you are such a novice. You are so afraid someone may hear you! But although at first your heart leaps to your mouth when the bidding opens, you find yourself being comparatively casual quite soon, and learning some of the tricks of the trade.
Dealers say that you are less likely to pick up bargains at a country sale than at one held in town. They also hold that the best time of year for buying things cheaply is in the summer, when the number of bidders has necessarily dwindled a little. Similarly, an auction that takes place in a country house, where the pieces are shown off to better advantage in their natural surroundings, results in what the auctioneer terms a ‘better sale’ than one that is held in the saleroom.
If you see a sale advertised where there are at most one or two antiques in the list, then that is a probable time for striking a bargain, as antique dealers do not as a rule consider it worth their while to travel a distance for so small an inducement. At a sale that consists largely if not altogether of antiques, the dealers will obviously attend in force, and competition will send the prices soaring.
If you care to, you can generally employ a dealer to buy for you and to advise you at important sales. This has many advantages. The dealer will keep you right as to the genuineness and condition of the piece, he will arrange about delivery for you – a difficult point at country sales – his acting for you will save you a long wait at the sale itself and there is little chance of the auctioneer missing his bid. The usual commission for his services is ten per cent, or rather less if the account is of a substantial amount. In having the dealer bid for you, you also have the benefit of eliminating his competition – an important factor, as you know if you have a dealer against you! You may thereby secure the piece you are after at a much lower figure than he himself would have been prepared to pay for it.
Of course, there are times when by some amazing stroke of luck you find that, in spite of a horde of dealers and other keen buyers, the bidding against you is feeble and some coveted piece falls to you at an enviable figure. If so, you have a new incentive to find fresh fields to conquer!
Mrs Howard Barker, 1939