If you’re in the area, come hear my spiel and kibitz about–what else? I’ve been invited to deliver this year’s kickoff lecture at the Piedmont Center for the Arts on Friday, November 14 at 5 PM.
Click below for the deets.
If you’re in the area, come hear my spiel and kibitz about–what else? I’ve been invited to deliver this year’s kickoff lecture at the Piedmont Center for the Arts on Friday, November 14 at 5 PM.
Click below for the deets.
Now that I’ve encountered 5 confirmed forgeries and 2 suspected ones of the same linocut, more than I’ve seen of any other print outside of the Vollard Suite, I thought you might want to know about it. The print in question is “Pique, Rouge et Jaune” (“Lance, Red and Yellow”, Bloch 908). I came across the two that are merely suspect years ago, before I knew exactly what to look for. But one of them was in the shop of a dealer convicted of (unwittingly) selling forgeries, and its price was too low. The other was such a bad impression like I’ve never seen in a real linocut, with large swaths of the image incompletely covered with ink. (A similarly poor impression is currently at auction at the time of this writing and is clearly forged.)
There is a silver lining–or two: First, none of these was in the hands of a reputable auction or private dealer. (The first poor impression referenced above was in a gallery with which I have had no personal experience and can’t fully judge its reputation.) Second, the distinction between the forgeries and the real thing is satisfyingly trivial, if you just know what to look for. But since you, dear reader, might not, I thought I’d not only alert you to the prevalence of these forgeries, but also show you how to identify them for yourself. Ordinarily, I don’t publish such tips, for fear that they’ll fall into the wrong hands, but in this case, the discrepancies can’t be corrected for, because they reflect an apparently inherent limitation in the resolution of the reproductive process. Also, I’ll reveal just enough so that you can positively identify the forgeries from photographs alone, without discussing several other types of discrepancies, some of which would be more apparent upon direct inspection. You would need to compare a print in question either to the real thing or, barring that, to a good photo. Even the smallish photo in Baer is good enough for this purpose, and Kramer will do but is not great. Just compare the prints, or photos thereof, side-by-side, focusing on the details of each, and see if there are variances between the two. You will find numerous fine distinctions if one is a forgery, but here’s just one example of what I mean (first, side-by-side close-ups for orientation, then further magnified close-ups for detailed analysis):
Note the “O”-shaped structure at the tip of the lance–it’s fluffy on top in the actual print but smooth in the forgery. The “O” is also much more uniform in width than in the original. There are additional discrepancies just in these close-ups, let alone the remainder of the prints, which should be obvious once you start looking.
Another caveat: just because a print you’re examining doesn’t resemble the above forgery doesn’t mean it’s real. There are at least two different forgeries. Theoretically, there could be more than two, but I have seen (and photographically archived) two forgeries which differ from each other, as well as from the original, in their details. Logically, a print you’re examining must resemble the original in detail if it is real itself.
There are certainly other forged linocuts on the market. The source of the first forged Pique I encountered had consigned a number of lesser linos to a Parisian auction, which succeeded in selling most of them. I’ve however seen only forged “one offs” of other linos. My experience could certainly be skewed. Nonetheless, particular caution is warranted when shopping for this bright red-and-yellow linocut masterpiece. (See http://ledorfineart.com/B908_La_Pique.html for a discussion of the artwork itself.)
Hi, Kobi! Just some comments on the Art Basel Hong Kong show. Hmmm…where to start? I met several top art dealers from NY, London, Milan, Paris, etc. who deal in Picasso. I saw some nice Picassos (and some very disturbing Contemporary Art). My overall impression is that the people who regularly buy from these dealers must be incredibly naive. I won’t bore you with all the conversations, just a sampling.
“Provenance? It’s in Zervos, which is a catalogue raisonné (spoken slowly apparently so my slow mind can grasp the French words)…that’s all the proof you need. If it’s in there it’s genuine. Here, let me show you a copy of the page.”
“But what if it’s a fake?” (Apparently few have inquired beyond “Zervos…maybe because there is no letter after Z.)
“We’ve been in business for 20 years.”
I’m thinking, OK, let’s try this another way: “How about a Certificate of Authenticity?”
From the look on his face, I think few have gone this far as it means an implied question of his integrity.
“I wouldn’t do that…people could attach it to a fake.”
But couldn’t they do the same with your invoice, so what’s the problem?
He’s ready for me: “Besides it’s the law in the U.S. – I have to guarantee the goods are as sold.”
Before I can respond to his circular logic, he’s looking for a more pliable buyer: “Ahh, excuse me but I see the Sultan of Brunei, one of my closest BFFs.”
Then I ran into an art dealer whom I had met before who was pushing his expert from Paris and advising me not to ask too many questions or the Parisian would withhold the opportunity to buy his Picassos. When I asked why that was, he pointed to a man. “See that guy, that’s one of the richest dudes in HK. He has 3 yachts and he buys from my guy to get the best deals.”
So I have two quick flashes: 1. Not only can’t he possible use 3 yachts but the minute after he bought them, they depreciated more than the national budget of Kenya. 2. If he has that much stupid money, what the hell does he care if he saved a few quid-–isn’t he into the aesthetics of the artwork? Dr. Watson…something seems out of his kilt here.
Then I encountered another HK dealer whom I had also previously met on my last trip who just said flatly that I wasn’t their kind of client…apparently I knew too much about Picasso….
Moving on…I met with a good framer. I’ll scan and send you their brochure.
So that’s about it…the Good (Picassos), the Bad (contemporary art) and the Ugly (Ovid’s Metamorphosed Used-Car Salesmen, aka High Art Dealers)…
This time my “best in show” pick is a clear choice, despite the fact that its estimate is more than an order of magnitude lower than the top estimates. The “show” to which I’m referring is this week’s battle between the giants, Christie’s and Sotheby’s. The battlefield is London. As the forces prepare for battle, perhaps you’ve noticed a stalwart young man among them, the Tête de Jeune Homme (Head of a Young Man), a full-sized drawing and a paragon of Picasso’s Neoclassical Period. Picasso created it with black conté crayon, my favorite medium in drawing because of the glistening, bold mark it produces. I must disclose that I haven’t traveled to London to view this drawing in the flesh, nor does its line appear particularly bold or glistening in the catalogue photos. Never mind, even if it were charcoal or pencil, that wouldn’t detract from its magnificence.
On average, I wasn’t all that impressed with the fare from the storied Krugier collection that Christie’s NY presented last fall. Presumably he sold some of his best works over the years, and perhaps his daughter is keeping others for herself. But Sotheby’s, which snagged a far smaller piece of the Krugier action, got this drawing, the best work between both of the houses.
Earlier in the same evening sale is an Ingres drawing, Three Studies for the Figure of Stratonice, of which the following is a detail:
The Ingres is beautiful, but the juxtaposition aptly demonstrates why Ingres will be remembered as a prelude to Picasso. Ingres was an equally great draftsman, but the profound interest that Picasso’s work inspires is the result not only of Picasso’s equally great draftsmanship but also because of his portrait’s stylistic complexity. This deceptively simple contour drawing is actually a blend of a fine neoclassical portrait with Picasso’s sculptural style in which by sleight of hand he fashions a two-dimensional artwork seemingly out of solid stone. The off-center placement of the figure is also crucial, as Picasso promotes the negative space upon which the subject’s eyes gaze as a principal part of the composition.
The Christian Zervos 33-volume catalogue raisonné of Picasso paintings, drawings and sculptures has just been newly reprinted, a collaborative marketing effort between the original publisher, Cahiers d’Art, and Sotheby’s. The set will soon be available for $20,000 (gulp!). In a promotional video distributed by Sotheby’s, Staffan Ahrenberg of Cahiers d’Art states, “It contains over 16,000 images, and it has become the most important reference work on Picasso.”
Well, yes and no. For those antiquarians among us who are still stuck on the original catalogue raisonné, it lends a bit of cache if your Picasso is illustrated in Zervos, though it does not really add value and is by no means necessary to establish authenticity. But Picasso made many more artworks than those in Zervos, with estimates running as high as 50,000. Not counting his approximately 3000 prints editioned on paper and in ceramic, that still leaves the majority of his works that escaped Zervos’ attention.
Nonetheless, Sotheby’s Philip Hook proclaims, “The appearance of a new edition of Zervos is incredibly exciting because it gives such a unique insight into how Picasso worked. Picasso’s work is recorded in such detail in these volumes, and there is absolutely no substitute for them.”
Really? What about Alan Wofsy’s Picasso Project? This 23-volume series published over the last few years in San Francisco (the final 3 volumes are expected soon) may have been unauthorized by the Picasso family and Cahiers d’Art, but it has added over a third more artworks than Zervos. Plus, Wofsy continues to actively update his archives and has already published several 2nd editions. Not to mention that the collection is available for a small fraction of the price of either the original or the reprinted Zervos.
John Richardson also weighed in on the new edition: “We’ve all been waiting desperately for someone to pick up on it. And the fact that there is no color in Zervos, I think, is an enormous asset, because I’d much rather have a very accurate black-and-white image of a painting or a drawing than have some sort of garish reproductions.”
Like every Picasso collector I know, I’d love to see a catalogue raisonné in color. I don’t know about you, but if I were ready to blow 20 grand on a bunch of illustrations of artworks, I’d insist they be in color. Sure, I’d rather the colors be as accurate as possible–the colors in books often diverge from the actual colors significantly. But take a look at any contemporary Sotheby’s catalogue–the colors are pretty darn good. You’d think that Sotheby’s would hold its book-publishing standards as high as those of its catalogues….
Actually, there was an online catalogue raisonné, mostly in color, of Picassos in all mediums, that was endeavoring to post all of his works. It was replete with descriptions and discussions of the artworks, extensive day-by-day biographical information, and many scholarly articles. The Online Picasso Project was begun by Professor Enrique Mallen and had already assembled over 20,000 Picassos. And it was free!
Red hot! Red hot! Get them before they sell out! And hurry! 25% off for pre-ordering in 2013!
Recently I enjoyed a discussion concerning Picasso’s draftsmanship with an art historian (on the way to Jerry Day, of all things!). Afterwards, once my thoughts had coalesced, I jotted them down and sent them off to him as well as to another art historian. Having not heard back from either of them in over a month, I started feeling ignored. Is it just me, or don’t you just hate it when no one pays you attention? So in utter desperation, I thought I might run this by you, on the outside chance that you might want to weigh in.
My conversant, Tom, had held that the measure of an artist’s draftsmanship is how accurately and precisely he mimics the physical world in his art. In his opinion, Picasso was pretty good, but the greats were da Vinci, Michelangelo, and some other Italian I had never heard of. (Now that I’ve looked up Italian draftstmen, I think he said Correggio.) Despite his professorial credentials and my lack thereof, I nonetheless brazenly floated the following trial balloon. I offered, why not add a second parameter to evaluate the draftsmanship of the modern/contemporary artist, not in lieu of his accuracy and precision, but in addition to it? To introduce this concept, I first have to trot out the hackneyed 1934 Picasso quote (but my reason for invoking it is atypical, as you shall see): “Formerly pictures used to move towards completion in progressive stages. Each day would bring something new. A picture was a sum of additions. With me, picture is a sum of destructions. I do a picture, then I destroy it.”
Without belaboring the quote, no doubt fodder for another lively discussion, I’ll get right to my point. Many, and probably most, modern and contemporary artists simplify their representations of the physical world, at least in the sense that they strip away detail. But what often results is not only a simplified but also a misshapen representation. Of course the misshapen forms can be intentional, certainly in Picasso’s hand. But all too often the result seems imperfect and weak, born perhaps of an admirable creative impulse yet marred by poor execution. Picasso on the other hand could pare away detail wholesale, yet what was left not only retained the essence of the object, but often even brought its essence into stark relief. And when he succeeded–which was most of the time–the form that emerged from the scrap heap was perfect, wondrous, bristling with creativity. I need not illustrate this point, since innumerable examples spring to mind, no doubt in your mind as well as mine.
Not so with most of the other so-called modern masters. Take Chagall. He gets many points for whimsy and creativity, and of course for his use of color, but his figures seem all wrong. They leave the impression that he couldn’t draw if his life depended on it.
Fine, you say. But, you ask, what does any of this have to do with draftsmanship? In so doing, you have brought me full circle to my original point: It is only the master draftsman who can strip away detail and invent new form without damaging the subject. In Picasso’s hand, the line of the artwork–and therefore the essence of the object–remain intact, enhanced even. In this sense, Picasso’s draftsmanship is unparalleled.
Christie’s just completed its first Shanghai auction. It included but one Picasso, a late oil on panel, but it was a doozie:
This musketeer brought in 1,906,245 USD on an estimate of 742,693 to 1,023,266 USD. Although many late Picasso paintings are oversized, about as large as a door, the better ones typically fetch 5 to 10 times this amount. But I’m not one to overweight size relative to quality when determining value. As for the quality of the painting, assuming late Picasso appeals to you, you may find yourself agreeing with me that it is wonderful. I could rhapsodize at length about the style and artistic accomplishments of this hilarious musketeer, but I’ll spare you–for now. Suffice it to say, despite the fact that the art market is on fire, yet another wonderful Picasso has slipped through the cracks. Perhaps the take-home is to keep an eye on uncustomary venues.
I trust the new owners will enjoy the company of their charming new houseguest. Although the auction season has just begun, I’m climbing way out on a limb by awarding the lucky buyers the coveted Steal of the Season award. (That and 3 bucks might buy you a pot of green tea.)
A couple of days ago I was offered Garçon à la Pipe, the Rose Period oil which, if you don’t know, sold for $104.1 in 2004, at the time the highest-price work ever sold at auction. Just another mundane episode in the life of a two-bit art dealer. Usually I just roundfile these emails, but this time on a lark I decided to indulge the sender. Here’s an exact transcript of the ensuing correspondence, apart from redacting the vendor’s name:
Dear Mr Ledor: We represent some owners of Master Pieces of the most relevant contemporary artist. Now we have the opportunity of offer you one of the most important Fine Arts of Picasso directly for you. If you have a real interest, let me know to send you more details. Best Regards, IM, Spain
Thank you! Please send me photos and net dealer’s prices of all your Picassos. Saludos, Dr. Kobi Ledor
Dear Kobi: First of all I want to asked you for discretion and confidentiality. I am offering this opportunity to you because I found out that you are a lover of Picasso and we want this Masterpiece will belong to one lover of Picasso. Let´s start with one of the most famous paint of Pablo.Garçon à la pipe. I send you a brief presentation of the paint and some comments from the last auction. If you think you can sell this to some of your clients or from yourself , let me know to start the process of pricing and so on. This could be a very big deal and we have to address this carefully. Thank you very much and we keep in touch. IM
That’s one of my favorites. I’ll buy it myself. Would 500,000 euros be enough? I’m ready to wire the funds mañana. Thanks, Kobi
Sorry, I left off 3 zeros. I meant 500,000,000 euros. Please send me your bank wire instructions. Kobi
Good evening Doctor. Are you really interested? Thank you a lot, IM
I found your address and have already sent you the money. You’re welcome. Kobi
Dear Kobi. Thank you very much for your interest. If you have a real interest and you want to pay 500 million of Euros for this work art, please confirm and today I will talk with lawyers to make you the reservation letter and I will talk with my customer to confirm the price and start the process. Please send me a formal letter with your official offer
Dear kobi.. It seems very strange. We have our procedures and I do not know about what money you are talking about. Please explain me everything,otherwise we can not consider your proposal seriously. Best regards
It’s simple. Let me know when the 500,000,000 euros I sent you have arrived, and I’ll let you know where to ship the painting. Kobi
Dear Kobi, The process is the following: 1-You send me a letter of intend, 2-I present your offer to my client, 3.If he agrees, I let you know and I send you all the details of the paint,certificates and everything., 4-we make the transaction, you pay and we send the paint to you. Now I can not accept receive the money in front because first of all I don’t have the OK of my customer. Also where and how did you send the money? I guess you have a lot of experience in art deals and I don’t think you take such a big risk to pay this amount of money without any warranty. Please stop everything and let’s do everything following my instruction. This is not a fake,we have customer and he has the authentic paint ,but we need to do things properly. I will refuse the payment. Best Regards
What’s the matter? Is it not enough money? OK, OK, enough already. It’s a holiday here today but I’ll send you another 500,000,000 tomorrow. I promise! Please don’t sell to anyone else. After all, I’ve already paid–at least half! Kobi
Kobi I repeat is not about the money. You know better than me the value of this paint. It is about the procedure. Can we talk now? Give me your phone number
Dear Doctor. The quantity of 500 million is more than enough. I will talk with my client and let you know ok? Don’t send me more money.
Dear Dr. Kobi Ledor. I attach you the letter of intend , you to send me signed and stamped. Also, I need your passport. I send you in Word format you to complete, if you want to add something. Once U have this I will talk with my client, to try to close the deal. Best Regards
OK, I get it now. It’s not about the money. It’s about finding that boy a good home. Well I assure you mine is. And I have no problem with sending you my passport since I’ll never need to travel again. I’ll be happy to just sit and stare at him all day long. Thanks, Kobi
Kobi: One question, I read in your blog that this paint is not one of the best of Picasso for you and also you know how much they pay in the Sothebys auction last 2004. But now you want to pay 5 times that price …what is the reason? I need a copy of your passport, not your passport my friend. You will travel to Spain because if we close the deal I will invite you here to show the best museum from Madrid. Best Regards
Hi! Just to update you, since you said you would not accept my payment, I have cancelled the check and have already bought another equal Picasso. That’s enough action for one week, as I like to proceed slowly. But by next week I’ll be back in the market, so if you could offer Guernica to me at a reasonable price, you’d have a deal. Thanks for your understanding, Kobi
It is a pity because I was talking with the owners to try to convince them for you. In fact they are almost convinced but you know that we have only one shot. This paint is unique because is the only one…it is not a fake is not a copy… Please reconsider, otherwise you probably lose the opportunity.
1971 – 2013
See the sad NY Times article reporting the theft from a museum in Rotterdam, The Netherlands, and the subsequent cremation of 7 artworks, including this wonderful, late Picasso drawing.
In a recent post I argued that Picasso drawings are on a tear. In this one I’ll offer reasons why they are still a buy, especially relative to other Picasso mediums, as well as relative to drawings by other “modern masters”. (Before we begin, in case you’re wondering whether I have any conflict of interest, I should submit that in this case I have no particular disclosures to make except for the general case, which is that we own and offer for sale Picassos in all of these mediums.)
The art market is in a state of perpetual disequilibrium, as we have earlier discussed, and the Picasso market is no exception. But among Picassos, the medium in which the disequilibrium is especially marked are his drawings and other unique works on paper (to which I’ll refer collectively simply as “drawings”). I haven’t done a statistical analysis to support this contention–I’ll leave that to the economists such as Mei and Moses–but my experience strongly suggests that this is the case. The reasons for it, I submit, are pretty straightforward: the relative scarcity of collectors of drawings, and that most of the individual drawings are relatively unknown.
Picasso created more drawings than works in all other mediums combined. It might at first seem paradoxical, then, that his drawings are relatively unknown. Here’s why. His prints by contrast are very well known, at least among print collectors, for a collector has merely to invest in a single book (Bloch, Vol. I) to see the majority of his published prints , including almost all the important ones. The avid Picasso print collector pours through this book repeatedly, commits many to memory, and make lists of his desiderata. (You should see my weathered, 30-year-old copy, or perhaps you have one of your own.) Picasso print collectors are also relatively plentiful, because of course the average original print is at the low end of the art market.
At the other extreme are collectors of paintings and sculptures. These works, despite being at the high end of the market, nonetheless traditionally have attracted more collectors than have drawings. Oils and sculptures stand out more, oils tend to be more colorful, and they are generally considered, by the artists and their fans alike, to be the apogee of the artists’ work. It follows that oils, then, tend to be more widely reproduced in coffee table books than works in other mediums. (For Picasso, typically one would find Le Repas Frugal in many such surveys, but few if any other prints and often not many more drawings.) When an important oil hits the market, it is already well-known and pretty much sells itself, with or without the gallerina’s help. A lesser-known but lovely oil might also fly off the proverbial shelf, if it is colorful and large enough to satisfy the collectors’ criteria. With Picasso, there are so many more drawings than the few that collectors have seen, or remember seeing. There are tens of thousands of Picasso drawings. So many books are required to catalog them (the most up-to-date series is Wofsy’s Picasso Project, which spans 23 volumes and which also includes Picasso’s paintings and sculptures). I suppose most collectors have not purchased them all. When a drawing first hits the market, even a very good one, its value has yet to be established. The gallery’s price tag or the auction’s estimate could be helpful in this regard, but they could just as likely be a hindrance, because of the inherent conflict of interest (you’re buying but they’re selling) and because of the vicissitudes of setting the price (the piece may be worth way more or way less in the seller’s point of view than in yours, the seller may have paid too much, the seller might be desperate to sell, etc.)
Collectors line up when a famous Picasso print is on the block. It is so hotly desired because it is so well-known. An equally great or better drawing by contrast is likely relatively unknown and will often garner much less attention. Don’t forget that some collectors lack taste and are therefore reliant upon their advisors or books. But their advisors may be no more familiar with the drawing at hand, survey books will likely be silent on the matter, and catalogs raisonnés don’t editorialize. Left to their own judgment, many collectors understandably will not part with their hard-earned money on something they’re less sure of.
The ability of the gallery or auction to play up the value of a piece should not be underestimated. The recent $13.5M Picasso Rape that I blogged about is a very good drawing, but could it have achieved anything of the sort without the auction’s hype? Consider the subject matter, let alone the alternatives. I’ve seen many a Picasso drawing every bit as good or better (in my subjective opinion) sell for a tenth of that. Heck, I’ve sold a better work (well, with the auction’s help, that is) for less than a tenth. So now you say, “Sour grapes!” Perhaps. There may be a bit of that. But not much–it’s not me, rather it’s that the chemistry of the art market, and drawings in particular, is in huge disequilibrium. There’s plenty of runaway bidding at one extreme, which you are of course well-advised to avoid unless money means nothing to you. At the other extreme, incredible bargains are quite rare, since Picasso, shall we say, has already been discovered. Today there are still relative bargains aplenty, but they are mostly in Picasso drawings. There are many wonderful drawings that still sell in the 6 figures, and occasionally at the lower end of that spectrum, must-haves, really, if you’ve got the scratch. They may often be underpriced today compared to drawings by, say, Matisse or Schiele, to name but two whose better drawings routinely fetch 7 figures, but that is only because Picasso was so much more prolific (and, presumably, because Germans naturally want to collect their own). But the relative availability of Picasso drawings, I predict, will not last, as more and more disappear into the black holes of museum collections. In time, I expect Picasso drawings to command a few more zeros, not unlike this month’s nearly $50M Rafael. But for now, dear reader, it is the time to buy and hold.