Death of the Auction Catalogue Description?
Assortment of catalogues. Image courtesy of the author.
If you are a lover of art and antiques, then likely there lies a bounty of glossy auction catalogues languishing on your bookshelves.
These days, their sole occupation is to gather dust as they await their fate to be thrown away in a fit of minimalism decluttering. The auction catalogue has long been a vital resource of connoisseurship and market research. But rapidly, they are being replaced by those young upstarts of subscription databases and online lot archives. The benefit is unprecedented accessibility on a global scale. However, the majority of digital interpretations lack in quality of description compared to their ye-olde printed ancestors.
Phasing Out The Printed Copy
It certainly comes as no surprise that the printed version is becoming obsolete in favor of virtual options. Smaller auction houses are noticeably lacking in offering physical catalogues altogether. The cost of production outweighs its usefulness in enticing bidders when they can just as easily view online. For those printed ones still in existence, they have turned into much more of a sales tool rather than a useful reference.
It has always been the case that catalogues are utilized for marketing and showcasing auction prestige. Nowadays a limited run of hard copies, often quite lovely in visual branding, is sent to the Trust and Estates crowd and other affiliate professionals who advise owners on liquidating their assets. They function more as promotional booklets to lure future consignors rather than actual buyers. In current times, the printed catalogue's primary purpose is to create a powerful first impression instead of being read-worthy. As a result, the text itself has experienced a gradual withering in substance.
Farewell Detailed Object Descriptions
Audubon prints auction lot descriptions. Image courtesy of the author.
For those veterans of the collecting world or someone leafing through older catalogues, you may have observed this devolution in text already. Lot descriptions, already almost haiku-like in structure, have been dwindled to the barest of wording. Is it because specialists aren't given the time to write a proper entry? Or is it a lack of training to articulate what they see before them? Maybe it's better to be vague for liability issues? Probably the answer is a nuanced mixture of all three reasons that vary case by case.
Ideally, an auction catalogue description should allow you to pick a specific item out of a line-up. "Yes! That's the Sevres tureen. There, the one with the pomegranate finial and a hairline crack along the rim." Rarely do I find masterful descriptions unless the lot is a big-ticket item. The occasional limelight objects are treated to profile features; a few paragraphs include background details, often about the historical importance or provenance. But for most lots, the few sentences they once received have been truncated even further down in recent years to hardly anything enlightening.
Naturally, it takes time to ponder and write a description that balances the necessary salesmanship of flattery and the conscientious accuracy of identification. What's boiled down into an apt few lines could easily take hours of consideration on the specialist's part. For the increasingly fast-paced sales cycle, the deadline for cataloguing was yesterday. Not to mention the lack of proofreading that regularly appears in the final publication with typos galore.
That's not to say that every auction house is subpar regarding their explications. Several companies continue to craft well-honed entries. When you do come across one, it's a welcome sight and likely an indication that such thoughtfulness is parallel to the treatment of the consigned objects themselves. However, they are becoming a rarer species to encounter in the wilds of market research. You will more easily find a lot where all it says is ‘Georgian armchair, mahogany, 36 inches tall.’ That's it? Yep. "Wait, but is it a period piece or a reproduction? Is that seat cushion recently upholstered? Tell me more." At least that's my silent diatribe as I glare at the screen.
In such ambiguity lies a caveat emptor snare. The less stated, the lower risk of blame for the seller. Some businesses rely far too heavily on this verbal crutch. Have some culpability and faith in your expertise. And let's not even go down the rabbit hole of the decided lack of condition notes.[i] A ‘buyer beware’ attitude is nothing new in the auction world. But as venues transition into the realm of solely online and we're encouraged to purchase without ever viewing in person, should we not require a more detailed explanation for the items listed?
Those Esoteric Words Will Be Missed
Assortment of catalogues. Image courtesy of the author.
This next bit is undoubtedly the most personal lament of all, but I miss the use of arcane words. While infrequently employed, pedantic terms can be so perfect as to characterize the object. Hoity-toity perhaps, but at least they're vivid: bombé, japanning, aeolipile, capriccio, and so on.[ii] Without the occasional use of these idiosyncratic phrases, I imagine them losing easy comprehension for even the most erudite of collectors, historians, and experts. They will languish within the pages of the Oxford dictionary, no longer taking an occasional stroll on the catalogue page.
A linguistic extinction already seems to be happening. It may be another reason why catalogue descriptions are so brief these days. Many an arts professional is unfamiliar with or can't recall how to succinctly put into words the presence of an object. It's a skill that, like teaching cursive handwriting in school, seems to be deemed no longer necessary.[iii]
A Photo Is Not Always The Right Kind Of Thousand Words
A red lacquer ‘dragon’ cabinet auction lot description. Image courtesy of the author.
Are high-resolution images fantastic? Yes, of course. I appreciate professional photos as much as the next person, with those crisp lines and zoom-in capabilities. However, we rely too heavily on the few images provided. After all, the photographer's job is to portray the item in its most attractive lighting and then edit in Photoshop to draw your eye to the best assets. Sometimes you come across an unfortunate picture that resembles a sad yearbook photo that the object wishes everyone would forget. At the other end of the spectrum are the high-gloss photos which look runway-ready and downplay any possible imperfections.
While the inclusion of multiple photos for a piece is a welcome bonus in the online era of auction sales, it should not be the only means for discernment. Determining quality, age, and attribution cannot be achieved by third-party visuals alone. This is especially the case when you can’t examine the subject property in person. After all, there is a reason why appraisers and authenticators prefer to see cultural materials in the flesh whenever possible. If not, we are dependent on the information offered to us, which is purposefully tailored with optimism in the auction context. When identifying a work of art or historical object, many companies prefer to convey a more valuable attribution until proven otherwise – a tricky thing when facts are limited, and terms and conditions apply.
Will the Digital Version Become a Worthy Inheritor?
Let's not forget that we are still in the early days of online auction listings. If consumers demand higher standards, the digital description may evolve in sophistication and quality of content to compensate for the printed version's slow death. Is there enough time to revive the language of the object catalogue description before it's too late? I hope so, but it may become an outlier, fluent only to a shrinking audience. For now, twenty-first-century adaptations leave something lost in translation. Here's hoping the pendulum of care starts swinging in the other direction.
Rest in peace auction catalogue description. Know that at least one appraiser will memorialize you fondly and dreams of your virtual resurrection.
About the Author: Courtney Ahlstrom Christy is a fine and decorative arts appraiser based in Atlanta. Her interest in offering valuation services tailored to each client’s needs led to establishing Ahlstrom Appraisals LLC, a firm that provides appraisals and consultations. As an ISA Certified Member, an AAA Accredited Member, and USPAP compliant, Courtney is involved in a professional community that seeks higher standards and ongoing inquiry into how to best value personal property. Courtney can be reached at ahlstromappraisals.com.
© Courtney Ahlstrom Christy 2021
[i] If you ever are interested in a lot online during the preview period, then I strongly encourage you to request a condition report from the auction house before bidding. It will give you a better sense of the physicality of the item and one of the few points of reference you can rely on if anything problematic were to arise post-sale.
[ii] Bombé is a French word referring to the outward-curving shape of furniture often with convex swelling along the front or sides. Japanning is a surface finish that was developed in Europe to imitate Asian lacquer. Aeolipile is used in glass to describe lobular or pear-shaped objects with a narrow neck and mouth. Capriccio is used to describe a painting depicting an imaginary topographical scene and derives from the Italian word for ‘whimsy.’
[iii] I sometimes envision that one of my skillsets years from now will be ‘fluent in reading and writing cursive’ and my services will be used to translate a letter written by great Uncle Morris in 1978.