Seems this happened at least 20 years ago, but my computer files tell me it was as recent as Spring 2002. I had a serious case of the collecting bug...yet I had never seen a Staffordshire menagerie. Yes, I had seen pictures in books, but never in the flesh, so to speak. My auction experience was limited--zero would be closer to the truth--because in those days auctions were not yet on the Internet. And then I discovered that Waddingtons in Toronto had a Polito's menagerie coming up. Waddingtons--I now know this to be one of the very few 5-star auction houses for ceramics--sent me a condition report. The menagerie was remarkably intact. Clearly, it was going to be a major purchase and, as I had no idea of what I might be buying, I decided to buy a plane ticket and go and see for myself.
I arrived in Toronto late afternoon, checked into a cheap hotel, and walked over to Waddingtons. Bill Kime, the ceramics specialist, could not have been more courteous and patient. The menagerie was impressive....but it didn't make my heart sing. It could not be faulted, but I didn't want to own it. It had the structural perfection I sought, but the enamels were not wonderful and the colors were wan. It was clunky. Nothing redolent of fairgrounds in days gone by. Was this as good as menageries got? Should I consider bidding at a low level? Was there something wrong with me, or with the menagerie? Confusion ruled my brain that night.
I arrived in Toronto late afternoon, checked into a cheap hotel, and walked over to Waddingtons. Bill Kime, the ceramics specialist, could not have been more courteous and patient. The menagerie was impressive....but it didn't make my heart sing. It could not be faulted, but I didn't want to own it. It had the structural perfection I sought, but the enamels were not wonderful and the colors were wan. It was clunky. Nothing redolent of fairgrounds in days gone by. Was this as good as menageries got? Should I consider bidding at a low level? Was there something wrong with me, or with the menagerie? Confusion ruled my brain that night.
Polito's Menagerie, circa 1830. From the V&A holdings.
The auction was the next day at around noon, and the menagerie came up early. All my worries about whether to bid evaporated fast. I didn't even get to raise my hand as the bidding quickly soared to, as best I recall, a final price of over $40,000 (USD). FYI, the menagerie had been bought at Grosvenor House from Alistair Sampson for 500GBP in the early 1970s.
So was my trip a waste of time and money? I was empty handed but 'full-headed". I had learned SO much. You have to know what you don't want before you can really know what you do want. When the right menagerie came my way later, I knew it in a heartbeat. By then, I had seen several menageries. None had pushed my button, but each had pushed me along the learning curve. Also, my trip taught me to trust and respect Bill Kime's judgment, and that proved valuable later on...and will again, I am sure.
Other experiences:
So was my trip a waste of time and money? I was empty handed but 'full-headed". I had learned SO much. You have to know what you don't want before you can really know what you do want. When the right menagerie came my way later, I knew it in a heartbeat. By then, I had seen several menageries. None had pushed my button, but each had pushed me along the learning curve. Also, my trip taught me to trust and respect Bill Kime's judgment, and that proved valuable later on...and will again, I am sure.
Other experiences:
- In Waddington's lobby, I overheard an accent just like mine and met someone who had been to the same all-girls high school I attended in Port Elizabeth, South Africa. Is the world small?
- My flight home that night never happened, and I found myself stranded at the airport at 10p.m., due back at 6a.m for another attempt. Too beat to move, I slept on the terminal floor. I stuck a sign next to me saying "Please wake at 5a.m." and at that time I got my wake-up call from an Indian gentleman: "Lady, wakey, wakey." This taught me never to leave home without a pillow, and that I can sleep anywhere. Again, invaluable lessons.
