Market: A New Era for Antiquities?
February 2008
NEW YORK—The December antiquities sales in New York delivered a stunner that, at least for a while, turned the eyes of the whole art world on this normally quiet, scholarly corner of the market: A 3¼-inch-high ancient Mesopotamian stone lioness with a muscle-bound human torso that Art & Antiques showcased as one of the December 2007 Objects of Desire. It sold for $57,161,000, the record not only for an antiquity but also for any work of sculpture, anytime, anywhere.The price, achieved at Sotheby’s on December 5, so totally outstripped—indeed, negated—any existing criteria of value in the antiquities world that veteran experts were simply stunned. It was exactly double the record $28.6 million paid at Sotheby’s in June for a bronze Roman Artemis with a stag. Dealer Jerome Eisenberg of Royal-Athena Galleries in New York says, “The general consensus in the trade is that before this year, the lioness would have been valued from $4 million to $6 million.” Sotheby’s estimated the piece, known as the Guennol Lioness, at $14–$18 million.
It soon became clear that the estimate was too modest. As the contest unfolded, the $25 million mark was reached, then it was down to two people, one on the phone, the other in the room, and the bidding went back and forth, in $1 million increments. The man in the room, wearing a plaid tweed suit and half-moon reading glasses, stood in a side aisle calmly raising his finger over and over again until the party on the phone dropped out at $50 million. The winning bidder was Geoffrey Turner, a relatively obscure English dealer and archaeologist based in Brussels, who was acting on behalf of an anonymous client. Turner would not say whether it was an individual or an institution, but insider speculation has it that the buyer is from the United Arab Emirates—either Abu Dhabi or Dubai—and may be planning a museum of Near Eastern art. Turner would neither confirm nor deny that.
As for the appeal of the lioness herself, Turner is more voluble: “Look into its eyes, as I did before the sale. You’ll see that it’s not only exceptionally strong, but it just has a beauty that sets it apart from almost anything else. It is unique, by a long way.” The statue’s tiny size and unusually naturalistic rendering, coupled with the fact that it has descended from the very dawn of civilization, are part and parcel of its seductive power.
The identity of the Guennol Lioness is almost as mysterious as that of its purchaser. Archaeologists believe it was made around 3200–3000 B.C. in the city of Susa, in southwestern Iran, and belongs to the Proto-Elamite culture. It may have been found near Baghdad, where it could have been brought by ancient traders. The holes carved into it might have been for a cord to pass through so that it could be worn around the neck as an amulet. The only thing known for certain is that by 1931, the lioness had come into the possession of New York dealer Joseph Brummer. He sold it to Alastair Bradley Martin and his wife, Edith, who in 1948 loaned it to the Brooklyn Museum, where it resided until this sale. The Martins built up a large, idiosyncratic and very high-quality collection of art from ancient times through the 20th century, which they called the Guennol Collection (guennol is Welsh for martin, the bird), and the proceeds of the sale of the lioness will go to benefit a charitable trust they established.
A mood of wallet-opening exuberance persisted throughout Sotheby’s sale. The very next lot after the Guennol Lioness was a South Arabian alabaster figure of a woman with clenched fists and staring eyes, from the third to first centuries B.C. Estimated at $400,000 to $600,000, it went for $1,217,000. An early Roman Imperial marble head of Zeus, circa first century A.D., impressively bearded though somewhat fragmentary, ascended triumphantly beyond its $300,000–$500,000 estimate to reach an Olympian $965,000. A beautiful, life-size marble statue of a lady, also Roman Imperial circa first century A.D., wearing a veil and an elaborately pleated chiton and complete except for a missing hand, was estimated at $70,000 to $100,000 and sold for $481,000 to a woman in the salesroom whom appeared to be a private collector. She beat out Hicham and Ali Aboutaam, owners of New York and Geneva–based Phoenix Ancient Art.
Some interesting, lower-priced pieces also defeated expectations. An Apulian red-figured plate, circa 350–330 B.C., decorated with realistic depictions of a perch, a squid, mussels and a scallop, sold for $49,000 (est. $6,000–$9,000). A colorful fragment of a Roman mosaic portraying a cupid figure throwing his spear encircled by an acanthus stalk brought $103,000 (est. $12,000–$18,000).
Christie’s sale on December 6 totaled $9,267,750 to Sotheby’s $64,955,839—but if you subtract one lot, the Guennol Lioness, the totals are only about $1 million apart. Christie’s estimates were, on the whole, more ambitious—or perhaps more in line with the market—and so prices tended to stay within expectations. The top lot was an Egyptian piece, a monumental sandstone head of Ramesses II (reigned 1279–1213 B.C. and identified by legend with the pharaoh of the biblical
Exodus), which sold for $517,000 (est. $400,000–$600,000). The head, which wears the double crown of Egypt and shows considerable erosion, may have been cut from a portrait of an earlier pharaoh, Amenhotep III. An ancient piece, a rotund—in fact nearly spherical—Anatolian idol from the early 6th millennium B.C., brought $457,000 (est. $300,000–$400,000).
In the ancient jewelry category, unique to Christie’s and for which the house puts out a separate catalogue, some pieces far exceeded their estimates. A Roman emerald ring stone with a carved Julio-Claudian portrait was estimated at a mere $1,000 to $1,500 and climbed all the way to $85,000. A necklace consisting of 21 Roman engraved amethyst ring stones, circa 1st to 2nd century A.D., sold for $121,000 (est. $50,000–$80,000). The stones, which are perfectly graduated in size, were placed much later in a Renaissance-style gold setting.
The dramatic sales left the antiquities community dazed and euphoric. The results, says Eisenberg, “show that antiquities are taking their rightful place in the art world,” and certainly put to rest any worries that high-profile repatriations would have a chilling effect on the market. Eisenberg suggests that on the contrary, the recent cases with the Met and the Getty may simply have made potential buyers aware that antiquities are desirable and available. And some of the same people who pay crazy money for contemporary art may be getting interested in the oldest art of all.
