VALUING SALVADOR DALI PRINTS

VALUING SALVADOR DALI PRINTS: Part One

This is the topic that brought me into the world of Salvador Dali in 1980 and has assured that all other professional appraisers have avoided it as much as possible ever since. It is a service that I perform almost daily, not only for print owners internationally, but for a great many of my appraiser colleagues who encounter prints attributed to Dali in the course of doing appraisals of collections. Since they have only one fully informed and dependable source of information, they call me and I introduce them to my service which has supplied credible information to appraisers for many years. The same service is available to anyone who needs it, and they don't have to send me the print. Just go to www.bernardewell.com

HOW DO I DO IT?

It is possible for me to give opinions of authenticity and value for Dali prints because I have been collecting information for thirty years and because I have so many contacts in the market. Perhaps even more important is that I know who knows what they are talking about and who doesn't and I know who those driven by self-interest are. Of course, it doesn't hurt that I have seen more Dali prints and originals than anyone else.

My opinions of authenticity are based on the information in my files accumulated during the examination and appraisal of over 55,000 prints attributed to the Spanish master. Mediums, edition numbers, sizes, appearance of signatures, blind chops, identity of paper and other clues help me place a subject print into the framework of all editions about which I have such details.

When I was serving as the court expert for a long list of Federal and state regulatory and law enforcement agencies I frequently had access to the files of dealers and distributors selling fakes and publishers both legitimate and illegitimate. This body of documentation is unsurpassed. It is also incomplete. As anyone who knows much about Dali prints will tell you, we learn more all the time and know that we shall never know everything we need to or wish to know.

While I would always prefer to personally examine a questioned print, my files let me make legitimate decisions about authenticity without doing so and I have never had one challenged, except in court where I have always prevailed.

My value research is based on a variety of sources and since the results are so varied, I have to extrapolate an on-going sense of what people are willing to pay for Dali prints. There is no single and reliable source of information that one can check for a quick value. While we have tracked both the prices and the values (don't confuse the two terms--more later) of Dali prints for thirty years, it is very difficult to make generalizations about pricing or value trends.

WHAT HAS HAPPENED TO VALUES?

Prices paid, collector interest, saleability, availability and the attitudes of people in the market often change in reaction to specific events, court cases, investigations, market gossip and even lies which are posted in profusion on the Internet. Thus, if it was possible to place Dali print values over the years on a graph, it would be very confusing. I will say that after the bottom fell out of the Dali print market in the late 1980s through the mid-1990s following the Federal prosecutions, there has been a steady, though not dramatic, rise in prices asked and paid for Dali prints. This has meant a slow increase in appraiser opinions of Replacement Value (for insurance) and Fair Market Value (for resale or donation).

There have also been a great many flawed appraisals written because the appraiser used bogus information sources. We'll talk more about these later in this series.

Every appraisal must take into account the relevant market. That is the market in which a property most often changes hands. There are many markets. For instance, if the works of a particular artist are available only from his studio, that is where their value is established--by sales. If he has a gallery presence and that's where his works are sold, that's the relevant market. These are both examples of the primary market, that in which the art changes hands for the first time. Resales at auction, through galleries or privately, constitute the secondary Market.

Sometimes, availability and the resulting relevant market are restricted. This is important to know because art sold in a restricted market must be valued in that market using sales information from that market. For instance, Park West Galleries contracted with the Albaretto Collection of Turin, Italy to purchase the Salvador Dali prints still held by the collecting and publishing family of Giuseppe Albaretto. Those prints were then sold exclusively by Park West and, because they had direct and unsurpassed provenance and guarantee of genuineness, the prices paid at Park West auctions on land and sea were considered by some to be high. They weren't because the only other sales to which they could rightfully be compared are other sales of similar art with similar provenance sold by Park West. Never mind that an identical image without the provenance, probably without a signature and without the guaranteed authenticity of the Park West material was floating around in the general market. It's price and value would be set by the general market. The Park West prints had to be valued within the restricted market in which they were offered where thousands of collectors bought them.

Every day I speak with Dali print owners who bought their treasure in the print boom of the 1980s and were told at that time that it would appreciate in value every year--especially after the artist's expected death. That event occurred in 1989. My clients have believed all of these years that their print was becoming more and more valuable.

If their print is genuine--either fully original or authorized and signed--then I must explain why the values have not increased as much as they were told they would. If their print is bogus, then I must explain how I know that and tell them that, in spite of what they paid for it, it has never had any legitimate market value. I always share all of the information that goes into my opinions of authenticity.

WHERE TO FROM HERE?

In future posts of this blog, I'll look at such topics as:

• Pricing at auction
• Pricing on Internet brokerage sites
• Pricing in the galleries
• The appropriate use of the "Print Price Guide" (a book review)
• Other sources of information; good and bad

My Brother Was Murdered

Sonny Jim James (Modoc 1940-2009)

On Thursday, October 29th we gathered at the Convention Center among the gorgeous red sandstone cliffs and outcrops of Red Rock State Park outside Gallup, New Mexico for the memorial gathering to honor Sonny Jim, my pledged brother of twenty-two years. The shock of his murder, along with that of the friend he was trying to help in a boundary dispute the previous Friday, was strongly reflected in the six or seven hundred people who braved the snow and ice to be there. Many (especially the large number of rodeo cowboys) had traveled from several states away.

Heather had battled her way through the Denver “Monster Snow Storm”, dealt with airline delays and foolishness and met us for the drive over to Gallup. We had spent two hours creeping over black ice and sitting in a twenty-mile long double line of idling semi-trucks and a few cars. To have over half a thousand Navajos show up on time was a unique experience in any weather.

We were given places of honor among Sunshine’s family and honored as elders and family members. I am now her only “Dad” and the four girls’ only granddad. By extension, I am also that to Sunshine’s four sisters whom I have known since they were little girls. All now have their own families. All have lost their father. So many beautiful, loving, sad people.

The convention center is huge, but was inadequate to hold all of the love shared that day. The tears were copious and the tributes all from the heart. The feast was served and the songs sung and the Medicine Man, Chester, offered a long prayer of perspective and solace.

I won’t attempt to recreate the unique experience, but I do want to share one thought. A member of the Navajo Nation Tribal Council spoke. As elders always do, he spoke in a fatherly tone and reminded the assembled Diné (people) of their heritage and pride and talked about the conditions we had braved to assemble in Sonny’s honor.

“Water,” he said, “is the source of all life and means life to us. When the clouds are low, there is mist and fog and we have rain, snow and even annoying and perhaps dangerous ice, we are being blessed with water and the gods have come down among us. Obviously, they have come to help us honor Sonny and they are among us, today.”

The lessons of the day were that there is strength in numbers, love should be expressed and when we are blessed with precipitation, even if it is annoying, the gods are walking among us.

OFF TO RIO !

OFF TO RIO !

On the eve of our departure for Rio de Janeiro to attend my son Duncan's wedding, I'm recalling what I was doing a month ago. You remember Duncan who had the Dali adventures with me in Spain? He married Mariana DeSalles three years ago and now her splendid, cosmopolitan family is giving them the full Brazilian family/social wedding. She is a smart and beautiful woman who is studying art/industrial design in Denver. This should be fun. We're staying at Ipanema.

So where was I a month ago? I was at a cattle and sheep auction in the small village of Dowra in County Leitrum, Ireland. Nothing fancy there. The village sits in a beautiful valley at the north end of Lock Allan which is part of the River Shannon system--the longest navigable river system (including many, many lakes) in Europe. It's so small it's only a six pub place.

The sales barns appear to be ancient and there are two sales going on simultaneously. It was great to be there with my brother Jon, a Colorado rancher, and my friend Enda Dolen who also has "beasties". Those guys knew what to look for in the livestock, what to listen for in the auctioneer's chant and how to judge the prices. I just enjoyed the experience.

The cattle were sold individually, but the sheep were sold in lots of ten. No buying a single darling lamb for the granddaughter. Take the lot.

What an interesting and timeless scene. The look of the farmers has not changed much in the last couple of centuries. The old tweed jackets, soft caps and ruddy complexions are enhanced by the musical conversations and amusing comments. No one's attention is ever very far from the bidding, however. This is a social occasion, but also serious business. The cattle handlers keep the animals moving down the chute, into the small ring in front of the cement stands, around the ring a couple of times and out back for loading.

The farmers standing around with shit several inches up their Wellingtons are remarkably like the art dealers standing around the edges of art auctions I attend. They also are standing in about four inches of bull shit.

THE ROAD TO PUBOL

THE ROAD TO PUBOL (ALONE WITH DALI AND DUNCAN, PART 4)

This is the fourth posting in the series recounting the trip my son Duncan and I made around Dalí country in Catalonia, Spain about seven years ago.

After our incredible and never-to-be-forgotten visit to Casa Dalí at Port Lligat and an exploration of Cap de Creuz and the surrounding mountains, I was ready for another adventure. Duncan needed some time off. One can only keep up with the Artpro-On-The-Go for so long. First we made the pilgrimage up exhilierating mountain roads to the other “roads”: San Per de Rhodes Monestary. This is the institution that created and exported all over Europe the Romanesque culture and style.

A gorgeous ruin now, it hangs on the side of a crag, on top of which is a ruined castle named San Salvador. Just down the ridge is a ruined abbey named Santa Helena. To Dalí, this was a tremendously significant place because it had the foundation of scholarship and culture and a castle named “Salvador” and an abbey named “Helena” in close proximity on top of a bare and wind-swept ridge. “Helena” was Gala Dalí’s actual name.

I was ready to be off on the search for the tiny village of Pubol and its castle which had been discovered by Salvador Dalí in 1968 (the year he finished the Teatro-Museo Gala-Salvador Dalí in Figures.) He had been promising Gala that he would buy her a castle as her personal retreat for thirty years. The first time he made the promise they were living in Northern Italy during the Spanish Civil War, which was closely followed by the Second World War, most of which they spent in the United States.

Can you imagine living with Salvador Dalí? Gala—an exceedingly strong and domineering woman—wanted a place of her own where Dalí could visit her by written invitation only. Whoa!

With Duncan chillin’, I set out through the labyrinth of farm roads that spider web the Plane of Ampurdam between Figures and Cadaques (and Port Lligat). I eventually was at the base of the slope on top of which was the silhouette of the village, castle and church of Pubol. They formed an almost solid stone mass because most of the buildings were connected to each other like a Southwestern Indian pueblo. (Yes, I know. “pueblo” is the word the Spanish use for tiny villages like Pubol)


Fields, vineyards and orchards flowed down the sloped below this towering, dark edifice. As I approached, I was fascinated to see the mass evolve into individual houses, stables, taverns and small plaza (but all connected). I think this place was built with consideration for defense.

Just above the village (a street’s width away) stood the conjoined church and Castle Gala Dalí. How nice, it was rather modest in its proportions, being basically a tower house, built without extensions for easier defense. No longer very fortress-like, it had served as a home to the Marquises of Blondel and the family now lived in Madrid. As a result, the castle was more of a “fixer-upper” than a great find.

Dalí bought it in 1970 and the restoration began. When it was completed, Dalí spent four months decorating the vestibule and various nooks of the castle. Everyone’s favorite story about that time was that Dalí was offended by the old iron radiators so he had them ripped out—and then painted radiators on the wall where they had stood! What a goof-ball. I think we would have liked each other (although there are many things about his character that I do not appreciate.)

The yard in front of the south-facing arched castle entrance is taken up with a maze of paths among high evergreen hedges arranged so that a visitor frequently turns a corner and is confronted by some very weird Dalí sculpture or construction. The fish pond is pretty wretched, but architecturally attractive.

Oh, incidentally, the exterior north wall of Gala’s castle faces the little plaza in front of the church and is joined at the corner to the church. Imbedded in it are three skulls.

Time to go in. The entrance is a low arch through what is called “The Persian Room” which includes a peep hole through which one can see into the basement—the former dungeon. And what to the wondering eye should appear but a 1976 Cadillac and a carriage that had been used by the previous proprietor. At one time it also housed Gala’s orange Datsun. (Didn’t know about that one, did you?)

The Cadillac de Ville was purchased in the United States in 1976 for $10,000. (Years later I would buy two 1976 Cadillac Sevilles. Beautiful small cars. One I got from my dear friend Marty Gordon, the legendary print dealer and publisher.)

The small court yard between the front wall and gate and the house proper has the feeling of being in a large stone well. The front of the house exhibits various decorative elements, but is dominated by the decorative stone staircase leading up to the front door which is surmounted by a carved coat of arms.

As an aside, I am reminded that later King Juan Carlos granted Salvador Dalí the title of Marquis of Pubol. Sort of like children playing kingdom in the living and dining rooms and one of them being designated Duke of the Red Chair.

The wonders that I found inside Gala’s Castle will be the subject of my next posting. Since I’m behind, I’ll try to get to it in a few days. I may be here to write, but I’m also on vacation.