Sotheby's is a London landmark. Its 18th Century Augustan-style building on New Bond Street headquarters the oldest continuous art and literary auctioneers in the world. Since its founding in 1774, Sotheby's has managed to attract the art and money elite of Europe by offering old masters' paintings, drawings and sculpture, antique books, icons, jewels, tapestries and, relatively recently, vintage automobiles, arms, clocks, watches and works by Continental impressionists, British moderns and even American primitives. "The main auction room," says Neiman, "was once the studio of the 19th Century artist and illustrator Gustave Doré. The auctioneer and, since 1958, chairman of Sotheby's is Peter Wilson, whose low-key outcry is the only sound in the otherwise hushed room. During an auction, bids are made by gesture only, and it's as solemn as a High Mass at St. Peter's. But the bidding is merely the climax of a long drama. First, there's the organization of the sale, which is often as complicated and chancy as handicapping horses. Wilson and his assistants, magisterial as British barristers, select the artworks to be auctioned from among those stored in Sotheby's immense dungeonlike basement. Certain pieces when sold together create a public wave and, as any Sotheby's expert will attest, momentum conceived and sustained prior to a sale is indispensable for a successful turnout. Strolling through the basement is really like walking through time. Here, stored with loving care, stand magnificent examples of almost every artistic style, from Rubens to Duchamp, from classicism to abstraction. Also in the basement are Sotheby's experts, who can tell you almost anything about any piece, down to where and precisely when it was originally created. Formerly the wine cellar of a spirits merchant, the basement, with its low-flung stone arches, is equipped with a fire-prevention system unparalleled for its sensitivity. And with good reason, since Sotheby's has sold the libraries and collections of such luminaries as Napoleon and Talleyrand. Often, though, many of its best-remembered sales are of seemingly worthless effects people bring in for free appraisal. One story concerns an elderly gent who asked a director if a picture wrapped in a brown paper bag was worth a 'fiver.' Upon examining the painting, the director exclaimed, 'Good heavens, sir, you have an early Samuel Palmer.' The man replied, 'I know, but is it worth a fiver?' The picture returned £5600, which probably proves that some people never know when they have something of value. Obviously, that doesn't apply to Sotheby's."
