The stories behind the bidding makes it interesting, says ISABEL MORTON
CONCERNED that I would be late and miss the furniture I was buying for a client, I found myself comfortably ensconced in the fine art auction room of Adam’s, St Stephen’s Green, somewhat earlier than necessary.
Far too early in fact, because I had to sit through the sale of silver items and Asian porcelain bits and pieces, none of which, were of particular interest.
As I dozed off in the knowledge that I wouldn’t be “on duty” for some time, I sensed that unmistakable tension which fills an auction room when bidding is far exceeding the estimate.
Like watching a tennis match in slow motion, observer’s heads follow the auctioneer’s gaze, seeking out the bidders among the crowd. So discreet are some that it can be difficult, if not impossible, to detect.
But the auctioneer’s hawk-like eye will read all the various signs and signals: the nod, wink or stare, a shift of the head, a lift of one shoulder or the casual use of the catalogue as a fan.
Curiously, one of the top buyers refrained from employing such covert methods. He was a renowned silver dealer, with a job to do and nothing to hide.
Like a bull taking a stance in the centre of a field in order to warn off any opposition, William Crofton of L W Duvallier stepped forward to bid and demanded the attention of the room.
Fascinated, I watched Crofton battle it out with a telephone bidder on lot 72 which was described as a “George II Irish Hanoverian pattern hash spoon of oversized proportions” and attributed to the maker Thomas Miles of Waterford.
To my ignorant and untrained eye, it resembled nothing more than a rather plain and unremarkable teaspoon with an unusually elongated handle. It did however, have an estimate of between €2,000 and €3,000, so I knew it was not to be confused with something like lot 99 – a long handled Victorian teapot spoon with an estimate of €200-€300.
However, when it was eventually knocked down to the telephone bidder for €12,000 (four times the top estimate), I was surprised. Why was that particular spoon worth so much?
Minutes later, Crofton was on his feet once more, bidding on lot 92 – a mid-Georgian two-handled bell-shaped cup. This time he successfully bought for €12,000 (estimate €5,000-€8,000).
On lot 147 – a salver – Crofton once again took centre stage to fight with his unseen rival at the other end of the phone. He backed out at €14,000, allowing his competitor to secure it for €15,000, which was three times its top estimate.
Curiosity got the better of me, and, with my trusty voice recorder in hand, I cornered him for an explanation. What was so special about those particular pieces of silver? What did Crofton and, indeed, the telephone bidder know about these items, which had escaped everyone else’s attention?
Well, rather like a good whodunnit, this was a case of “who-made-it” and, to cut a very long story short, two of the three pieces in question (the cup and the salver) were correctly (in Crofton’s view) attributed to Jeremiah Morgan, Clonmel. As Clonmel silver is very rare and collectable, they were of particular interest to Crofton and dealers such as him, but also to knowledgeable private collectors.
However, the debate continues about other pieces of the same period with the maker’s mark IM, which Conor O’Brien, a highly respected Irish silversmith and author of books on same, believes were also made by Jeremiah Morgan but incorrectly attributed to the Dublin silversmith John Moore.
“I once turned down a set of four candlesticks, which were offered to me by a dealer, as by John Moore, Dublin, and I took them as being right and laughed when he offered them to me for €25,000. I subsequently saw them sell for over €100,000 as by Jeremiah Morgan. So, if you make a mistake like that, you remember,” he told me with a wry smile.
Nevertheless, of the three pieces that day, Crofton believes that the spoon was the “most stunning”, as it “screamed quality”.
Crofton knows when to stop bidding, so that he can sell on to his clients at “fair value”. His clients depend on his knowledge, expertise and honesty. “It’s all about trust,” he said. “You share a passion with your client.”
As such, the dealer feels that he has a connection with them, which goes beyond the normal dealer/client relationship.
Sadly however, most of our Irish Georgian silver is going abroad to second- and third- generation Irish, who are now its custodians.
“Internationally, the market for Irish silver is fantastic. When the financial crisis happened, everything froze for nine months and then got going again quickly, but the local market is gone, it’s been decimated.”
Never again will I sleep through the silver section of an auction, but in future I’ll make absolutely sure to sit beside William Crofton, who will bring it all to life.
And, as for the boring Chinese porcelain – well, not so boring actually, and winging its way back to Chinese collectors, but that’s another story for another day . . .
Isabel Morton is a property consultant
