A trade publication is reporting, in response to the high numbers of buyers failing to complete on purchases, a number of continental auction houses are requiring significant albeit refundable deposits in advance of accepting bids. Worthy of note, this action has been so far limited to items of specific interest to Chinese buyers. It appears that the Chinese rogue buyer of the reticulated vase, formerly famous and now infamous and the subject of my last blog, must have some friends, or at least shares questionable business practices with others of the same collecting bent.
Of the many interesting facets of the high profile Chinese activity in the trade has been that its effects both good and ill have been felt largely in the salesrooms. The best private dealers have so far certainly not benefited from any of this, witness their numbers shrinking by the day in the world’s art cities. It has seemed to me that the received wisdom amongst Chinese collectors is that the best source at the lowest price has been the salesrooms. With so many moneyed new, still wet behind the ears collectors coming out of China, it is little surprise that they’ve not cottoned on to how fraught with difficulty buying at auction really is. I am reminded of attending several sales in London over the course of a week or so several years back. Every one of them was attended by the same woman, notable for her, shall we say, large appearance. Any piece of better quality English furniture with a bit of gilding on it, she tried to buy. And, she did, but every last one acquired at a huge premium. As any trade purchaser knows, the salesrooms always provide the novice with a baptism of fire, and this poor lady, though doubtless unaware, was well and truly burned. Everyone has a budget, and it serves trade buyers well to get rid of competitive buyers by exhausting their resources early. As a consequence, certain salesroom habitués will intentionally bid up a piece that someone is feverishly seeking to acquire. Then, when a piece has reached unreasonable levels of price, the unscrupulous underbidder will stop, and the fevered bidder will find themselves the owner of something inordinately expensive- and their wallets flattened. This is what’s known as having a piece dropped on your toes. Our large lady in London certainly must have had all her metaphoric toes broken. Has this happened to any of the redoubtable Chinese grandees? Unquestionably. Are a few of them now aware of this? With the recent defensive maneuvering of the salesrooms lately, I’d venture to say yes.
Mind you, most auction houses are able to withstand the predations of the rogue buyer. Rarely does an item leave the salesroom without its having been paid for, and if something remains unpaid and uncollected, the worst thing that happens is that a consignor is disappointed and the piece is reoffered for sale. Better luck next time, I suppose. In this day and age of huge and exhaustive price databases, private dealers all now know that, to stay in business they are obliged to be price competitive. Soon, the new collector pool that China represents will realize that dealers are just as good a resource as the salesrooms. Better, of course, because nearly all specialist dealers will have a much broader base of knowledge, and can spend considerably more time in working for the individual collector- assessing the quality of the requirements of the collector and putting good quality pieces before them, prior to being offered for sale to the general public. Times being the way they are, though, most dealers are pretty hungry, so it is my hope that, in an effort to cash in on the inevitable migration from the salesrooms to the dealer’s galleries, a lesson is learned from the experience of others, and that conservative trading practices prevail. By which I mean, taking a line from a well known film, ‘Show me the money.’