Artistic Conclave: boundary and authenticity in Mayfair auction houses

Cover picture: an Old Masters’ auction exhibition. Photo taken by author.

By Hugo Hong

“vade, quaecumque habes vende, et da pauperibus, et habebis thesaurum in caelo: et veni, sequere me”

“ Go, sell everything you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.”

Mark, 10:21

I entered Baldwin’s through the entrance at Rabat Street. It acts as the back door, the main being the Casablanca Street entrance. Walking past the reception and down the stairs, I arrived at the central gallery. The room was full of artworks by emerging and established artists. The place in general was quite empty and there was only one security standing in a corner. It was hard to find him given the dark lighting in the room and the black suit every security staff wore. I walked into a room next to the central gallery. It was busy with staff – those of whom aren’t part of the security – walking across the place in a rush. On the right is Property Collections, where you can claim the artwork bought. Several items such as an antique-looking candle were on the table with some wrapping paper and a box lying around. People who looked like maintenance staff packed items in boxes.  

I headed to the reception in the hope of meeting the specialist behind the auction. A specialist is a title given to the staff who research, collect and market the area of art they focus on. I thought they would know the auction better than anyone else as they manage the auction season. I asked the receptionist if I could see the specialist and told them about my research. They rang someone called Rachel and informed me that she would be down in a minute. While I was waiting for her, I couldn’t help noticing a note framed on the reception desk. It was a warning to bidders to reveal their identity due to UK Anti-Money Laundering Regulations. The note brought up several questions. Is the anonymity of customers essential here? Are artworks treated as assets to invest money – such as income from money laundering? 

Soon after Rachel comes and greets me. I explained to her about my study and asked if she could spare some time for an interview. In an annoyed manner, Rachel tells me that she doesn’t have much time and that if I want to do an interview, I should do it now. Not wanting to lose this opportunity, I accepted her offer and we moved to the sofa close by. I begin my interview by asking her what the clients are composed of. She tells me that last night, two Chinese clients and three Turkish clients were present. “The participants in the auction vary much from the US to Asia.” She emphasised. I continue by asking if there is a common preference or taste among clients according to their social group. “Asian clients tend to have similar tastes to the Americans, but you can’t generalise! For instance, the Japanese and the Hong Kong buyers have major differences in tastes.”  

Suddenly she stopped talking about the note and went back to the earlier conversation.  

“Look, I know that Baldwin’s can be intimidating at first. On my first day of working here, I was also intimidated by the grandeur. But you must realise that Baldwin’s is open to all. For instance, on Saturday, a schoolteacher who was looking around asked me if he could bring his students here. And I said sure, why not?” 

Describing the auction houses as open to all stuck in my head for a while. I imagined an auction house to be somewhere open to the exclusive few. Exclusive few as in wealthy, influential individuals often from privileged social backgrounds. Is it open to all people as Rachel asserts? Anyone can indeed come in through the door and look at the artwork. However, as she admitted it is difficult not to be overwhelmed by the grandeur and feel unwelcomed. The famous quote from Shelley’s Ozymandias, “Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!”, resonates. How can I explain the two contradictory feelings of being welcomed and unwelcomed? Trying to answer the question, I undertook my fieldwork with a focus on interpersonal interactions and visual images.  

The Maze Leading to the Centre 

Auction houses can be like a maze, especially one that changes often. If you walk past a corridor to reach a room one day, the next day you may find it blocked. Such a confusing and mysterious layout makes it difficult to navigate, but a route to the centre exists. The centre is where all the major events occur and where the auction house puts the most effort. On my many visits, I once found myself in a centre. 

Browsing Twitter, I saw that Baldwin’s was auctioning a portrait by Gerald Beaufort. Beaufort, the famed British painter of the 20th century, is one of my favourite artists. Excited by the news, I paid a visit to the auction house soon after. When I entered Baldwin’s, however, I couldn’t find the painting by Beaufort in any of the galleries on the ground floor. Furthermore, many of the rooms which were open the last time I visited were now closed. I asked one of the security guards where the artwork for the upcoming evening sale was. He told me that they were upstairs. So, I went up the stairs heavily decorated with wallpaper promoting the evening auction. The painting by Beaufort greeted me as I entered the upper-floor galleries. Compared to the empty rooms downstairs, it was bustling with people. It seemed as if this was the main party in Baldwin’s. I couldn't help but notice the loud chatter coming from the room on the left. Inside were several white women in their 30s in fashionable, expensive clothes. Among them was a specialist – whom I could tell as she was wearing a dark-coloured suit in a formal attitude.  

Chinese antiques auction exhibition. Photo taken by author.

In Baldwin’s and Fitzalan's, the staff had various titles and distinct roles accordingly. For instance, auctioneers organise auctions and stand on the lectern with their hammers in auctions. Specialists, who specialise in an art genre, mainly deal with clients, trying to sell artworks they oversee. Compared to these roles, registrars dealing with shipping, and technicians handling the physical artworks are not so visible and lower in the hierarchy. The more visible one is to the public, the more importance given to them. Nonetheless, their presence shouldn’t exceed the visibility of their clients. Hence, the general dress code for all employees is formal dress with dark colours. Such a specific dress code enables them to blend with the dark atmosphere in auction houses. On top of that, most specialists stood as a group chatting with their colleagues rather than being scattered across the room. The colleagues with whom they interacted were always their fellow specialists. No attention was given to security guards or object-handling people. Such distinction had elements of race also. The auctioneers and specialists were mostly of White and East Asian backgrounds. On the other hand, the not-so-visible workers – such as security, and cleaners – were from Black or Ethnic Minority backgrounds.  

Going back to the auction house, the specialist was explaining some artworks in the room to the ladies. The group appeared to be enjoying a private viewing organised by Baldwin’s. Private viewing is the occasion where several influential individuals are invited to an exhibition before it opens to the public. As soon as the explaining ended, they marched to a bright room hidden deep in the corridor on the right. I decided to follow them and stumbled upon Baldwin’s Preferred Members’ Room. The room was like no other. The sunlight from the big windows facing Casablanca Street made everything shine. Moreover, an afternoon tea was served by a waiter as the ladies sat on the fluffy sofas. At that moment, I realised that not all visitors are treated the same in auction houses.  

Most visitors will wander around the gallery trying to make sense of the place on their own. Some selected few, however, will receive special treatment. This notably includes  an exclusive private group tour led by a specialist followed by afternoon tea. Perhaps the maze-like structure of the auction houses is intended for the not-so-welcome visitors to be stranded. Trying to figure out my way around the auction houses, I once asked a receptionist if there was any map with the layout of the place. I asked this as I couldn’t find any floor plan or map on their website. The receptionist apologised and said that they didn’t have any. Instead, she suggested taking a picture of the exhibition map shown next to the reception. This was frustrating as it only showed the small number of rooms open to the public at that moment. All the rooms not used for the current exhibition weren't shown. Furthermore, the map on the screen didn’t have any floor plan for lower ground. From what I know, the lower ground is reserved for the catalogues of all artworks they sold from the 18th century. 

Fair Warning! 

“We have to prioritise bidding clients and collectors.” I was shocked to hear the response from Baldwin’s. My application to attend a live auction was rejected. I tried to make sense of why and how by thinking back on what happened beforehand. I needed a ticket to attend the live auction, so I emailed them. They asked me several questions in the reply such as whether I needed a paddle, and what my client number was. Looking back on the process, I realised that this is when things went wrong. I told them I didn't need a paddle as I wasn’t intending to make a bid. Moreover, I haven’t linked a bank account with sufficient money to my Baldwin’s account. All this would have given the impression that I am no valuable client who will bid. But this still didn’t make sense, because, for Fitzalan's, another auction house I did fieldwork at, I was offered a seat in the auxiliary viewing room. It would be worth mentioning that they also said in the email that they prioritise confirmed bidders in their auctions. The viewing room is unique to Fitzalan's, and I was lucky enough to at least be accepted into that. 

A live auction is the main highlight of an auction house. It is what makes an auction house an auction house. Artworks worth millions are sold in the event and many wealthy people take part in the process. To capture the scene, the press releases news articles about million-dollar paintings sold in an auction. This enables an auction house to be turned into a theatre for the day. People dress to show off and talk with the few they want to. Some laughter, some applause, and some jokes are also essential in this play. The play also acts to draw the line between the main actors and the supporting actors. Of course, I haven’t had the slightest idea that it would be like this before attending in real life.  

The auction day at Fitzalan's was terribly busy with the greatest number of people I saw in the place. I went up the stairs and looked around the main hall. On the right, there was a large table with beverages. Next to it was another table with cardboard paddles. Some staff sat around the table looking at a paper which seemed like a list. In an adjacent room, a muscular security guard was standing in front of the entrance. Inside the room were several cameras, filming staff and chairs in rows. Compared to that, the West Room was empty and quiet.  

I went into the West Room – the auxiliary viewing room – and waited for a few minutes before the auction. Soon the TV showed the auction room and zoomed into the auctioneer for the evening, Charles Villiers. Villiers announced on the lectern that the auction would be filmed. He also added that some faces may be seen in the recorded videos.  

The atmosphere of the room changed as the auction began. The auctioneer called out the names of the specialists who stood to the left, and right side of him and asked for bids. It seemed like they all knew each other well and felt comfortable being named to bid. The specialists were busy talking to their clients on the phone. The men were in dark-coloured suits and the women wore relatively varying clothes but all of them luxurious. Some hid their mouths with their hands when on the phone, trying to hide the identity of their client.  

An empty exhibition room after an auction. Photo taken by author.

The early bids skyrocketed and stopped at £350,000. As if this wasn’t enough, Villiers repeated the price looking impatient. Out of luck, he suddenly spotted a specialist who was willing to bid more – signalling with a little hand up looking at Villiers. Filled with excitement, he yelled “Going on!”. It was eventually sold at £730,080 with a “Goes!”. As the auction continued, I could see a pattern in the process. Villiers called out the specialists by their names or a title such as The American colleague. A tense and dynamic atmosphere was also created as he said things like last chance or fair warning. Not only did the statement mean that an artwork is sold to someone but also you can’t have it even if you want later. Those shouting acted as encouragement for the bidders to bid more. The use of various hand gestures and the act of leaning on the table were also involved. In one instance, a specialist was on the phone with a client unsure whether to pay £100,000 more for an artwork. Noticing the reluctant client, Villiers proposed to only increase by £50,000. This was enough to convince them to continue bidding more for the artwork. For him, increasing the price sold even slightly is better than not getting any higher bids.  

The repetitiveness of the auction made people in the room tired. Many already had ideas about which lots they were interested in following. Some people had a paper with the details of several lots. One by one, the attendees in the West Room left the room changed seats, or simply stood at the back. People who were at the West Room knew that their place wasn’t much of an importance. You didn’t need an opulent invitation to have a seat there. What was easily gained and unworthy to boast about is destined to be abandoned. In this place, not only the artworks but people seemed to have price tags. It is invisible but they are very aware of how much they are worth in this pyramid. 

 In the following lots, lot 16 was a large Picasso. When the bidding began for this lot, people who left the room came back in and sat at the rear of the room. The bids went up to £16 million and stopped, which was disappointing. The lowest estimate for the lot was £15 million and the highest was £20 million. After the lot was sold, the audience in the room chatted quietly among themselves. Picasso who is one of the best-selling artists to be sold at such a meaningless price must have come as a shock to them. After all, this auction dictates the trend or how future artworks will be priced in the art market. Like a highly respected company’s stocks crashing, people lost their words.   

Furthermore, the work by Picasso stood out from many other artworks by less-known artists. Most clients are not well-versed in modern art trends. Thus, they invest more interest in what they already know and what auction houses recommend. Selling invaluable artworks and topping the headlines, the two auction houses accumulated unquestionable authority. It allows them to decide values and authenticity which are intrinsically related. If they say something is worth a million, it is worth a million. In the case of Picasso, that authority faced a challenge. The price sold – or as they call it, realised – was too close to the lowest estimate made by the auction house. Thus, those who trusted the auction houses didn’t know how to react.  

Several hours passed, and I began to feel tired and didn’t feel the need to stay looking at a TV screen. The auction was all about what happens in that exclusive room guarded by security. People outside couldn’t take part and being frustrated took pictures of the inside at the guarded door. Many left the auction house as time passed and the West Room became empty. It seemed as if those people were just the supporting actors needed to support the leading actors. On the other hand, the specialists and bidders inside the room often went out to enjoy drinks with their colleagues from the inside. When done with their break, they went back in and enjoyed the lively auction. The room was often full of laughter when Villiers made a silly joke or shouted his famous fair warning. 

Insider/Outsider, Fake/Authentic: Flexible Boundaries 

Auction houses exclude and include people in manifold ways.  Sometimes through space, other times, people themselves drew the boundaries. Despite the boundaries looking clear, they are essentially flexible. Somewhere what stays closed or private one day may be open to the public another day. Similarly for people, one can access an exclusive space such as how I attended an auction, but some form of boundary. Playing with such fluctuating reality and being successful in it are the goals to aim for. This dynamic made me question my first research question assuming a firm insider and outsider boundary. I believe such flexible boundaries are something that the auction houses know already. The existence of an Auxiliary Viewing Room and the Preferred Members’ Room being open with no security, or anything are some examples. However, one must play by the rules and know oneself. Being open doesn’t mean anyone can enter. Different rooms and places exist for distinct groups of people, and one must continue to question and find out where they fit. Being courageous and trying to challenge the rules may end up unfavourably.   

Beyond the boundaries, what seemed central to me was the production of authenticity in auction houses. As the value of an artwork largely depends on its authenticity, people use various tools to verify it. Among the opinions given about authenticity, those by auction houses are taken to be the most credible. This is largely from the clients' lack of sufficient knowledge and the fame of auction houses selling million-dollar artworks. Furthermore, the exclusiveness of the auction houses for those with great wealth, and power doesn’t allow new possibilities. Nonetheless, such authority is subject to challenge when their predictions turn out to be inaccurate and as the clients become sceptical.