The Art Auction

As my nephew,M says, "Art is for losers" but it was said laughingly to get my goat and to decline our invitation to go to the Park West Galleries auction. We got dressed up (For Florida, which usually includes shoes, but when we got there we saw all manner of fashion, including threadbare gray sweatpants that barely encircled a female's bottom and looked as if she was smuggling cherries across the border).

I register and get my bid number, and, mind you, none of us have ever been to an auction and have no idea what we are doing. We decide to get a complimentary cocktail, and V asks the bartender for a vodka collins and the b. amazingly says, "I don't know how to make that". Then she asks V to tell her how to make it, and V says,
"Do you have collins mix?"
"No"
(sigh) "I'll have a glass of wine".

J and I opt for cranberry and vodka and then we all saunter in to view the paintings. It was quite a selection and included some Rembrandts, Picassos, Goyas, and Dalis. We were told it was a "request only" auction so we had these yellow tags to put on the works we wanted up for auction. We were also told to ask the frantic sales staff, who were running around with open laptops ready for questions, for the opening bid price. Always obedient, I ask a GQ clone for the opening bid on a Dali lithograph. He tells me "$6900." Opening. To my credit, my face registered nothing, a skill I've learned to use as a therapist when someone drops a bit of information like, "I don't usually eat my toe cheese, but Sunday nights are tough."

GQ begins the hard sell, telling me how many woodblocks went into making this confection. I think I see the faintest hint of steam in his round eyeglasses. "Let me put it up for you" he says pleadingly. I think that I am not prepared to even make the opening bid, which in this crowd is small potatoes, but I am, after all, living on a fixed income (cough).
I say, "Let me think about it" and sidestep away like the Jersey bluecrab imposter that I am.

J and V are already owners of a Rembrandt and a Lautrec, bought before they had kids. They have appreciated over the years, so they were checking out the "old masters section". They were also getting the hard sell on a Goya by another GQ clone, who turned J off completely when he said, "Goya is better than Rembrandt" which is a moronic statement to make on so many levels.

Well, it's getting close to auction time and there is a flurry of activity. V has found a real bartender and proceeds to have several vodka collins. Only J seems to find the hors d'eourves chick. Now, the frenzy begins. The auctioneer is a short, GQ clone, who is so hopped on something that he will not proceed until he gets a louder answer to his "How is everybody doing tonight?"

He explains how the bidding will work and spends entirely too much time on which fingers to use for increment raises. I've lost him, but don't care because my drink is absolutely delicious. Now, we get the hardest sell on this guy called Marcus something or other from Detroit, who gets up to "explain" his art. His wife stands next to him and, like one of the Supremes, uses hand gestures to facilitate his explanation. When Marcus said something about art, she would pretend she was painting the air. I guess that justified writing the trip off as a business expense. So, his explanation. You see, Marcus went to a lot of museums and saw the work of Picasso and Braque, but he "didn't want to be like them", he "wanted to do something different." Oh, the conceit. He called his work, "flat world chaos" and I'm not even interested enough to listen to myself explain it. PS, he did not sell a painting for less than $4000 and they were fugly.

Finally, they left the stage and Chris, the manic auctioneer, began his pitch. He was a decent auctioneer, except when he pronounced bas relief exactly as it is spelled. Oh, and his assumption that we were all retarded because whenever there was a piece by an "old master" he kept harping on how we should all listen to him that these were the ones we must collect. Like that's insider information. Thanks, Chris.

The highest sale was something at $40,000, I believe it was the Miro. Or the collins mix.