Written By donald gajadhar
The rebellious European teen, on a New York vacation, had snuck out onto the fire escape at the back of the rented Air B n B to steal a few furtive puffs of a cigarette. A wisp of smoke mixed with sounds of Friday Night crowds and car horns in the warm summer air. Now sleepy, she closed the window and went off to bed. Big day tomorrow in the Big Apple.
Huma Bhabha. Painted Bronze. Jason Jacques Gallery TEFAF
Her dreams, drifting between the towering skyscrapers were woken by the screaming sirens growing louder and louder. She rushed to the front window, peering down alongside her parents, six wailing fire engines crowded the street below. A tangle of hoses snaked into their building, hissing and spitting water, stomping up the stairs, the shouting firemen bellowed in the smoke-filled stairwell.
Everyone out! Now! NOW!
Alberto Burri Guggenheim Museum
The unruly teen, it seems, after an extensive investigation, was the suspected source of the devastation. A discarded butt flicked with casual abandon into the air shaft below, set off a destructive chain of events causing a million-dollar insurance policy to get maxed out.
The blame game had started. Not my rodeo though. I just stick to the evidence.
My assignment was to value the stock in the ground floor gallery and pieces in the upcoming auction, that now was most definitely canceled.
Arriving a few days later, the thick smoke still hung heavy in the air. I carefully walked through the gallery, wet floors and wrecked antiques, vases and paintings were strewn all over the now-blackened space. In the darkness, the flashlight caught details of the damage. A bull in a china shop may have seemed a prima ballerina compared to a crew of burly FDNY firefighters, burdened with breathing equipment, axes, and hoses, crowding into the narrow space looking to discover the source of the flaming pyre quickly.
Trying to catalog and inventory after a fire is like bottling the smoke. Sifting through charred fragments and attempting to work out what if anything was salvageable was a little like playing detective in a classic film noir or a CSI investigator. Breakage, water, and fire damage were found throughout and easy enough to work out, however smoke damage is particularly difficult to assess. Can it really be restored, and to what extent? The smell of smoke can even penetrate fired ceramics, so fabric, paper, and canvas soak it up. Pigments, colors, and mediums change with heat, and a layer of grease, ultimately affects the value. The major (pricy) artworks I had to appraise had been well-wrapped, avoiding damage for the most part. That is what I know, but it could change over time. Also, the stigma of the fire was on record and could follow the work around like an unwanted stalker, a permanent stain.
All these considerations are at play when attempting to determine value, always at play and rarely, if ever, truly set.
Fred Wilson. Grey Area (Brown version) Brooklyn Museum.
In the recent Guardian article about the A list ‘woes’ of Ron Pearlman, embroiled in a 400 million dollar lawsuit with his insurance company, appraisers need to tread carefully. When the sharks taste blood everyone is chum!
The loss of ‘oomph’ is trying to be evaluated, a tricky task for the keenest of educated and experienced eyes. However, the damage, as I previously explained, is part of its history. For Steve Wynn and his now famous magic elbow, that history can be quite lucrative. In the Pearlman case, it’s for the lawyers with their gang of experts to don the gloves and duke it out in the courtroom.
May the most convincing party WIN.
https://www.theguardian.com/culture/2022/nov/19/ron-perelman-art-litigation
