Ivory Conundrum

I would like to begin by thanking every viewer for visiting my blog and to apologize for the long absence.  There are many interesting ideas, but the one that I need to express is a recent conundrum I had with ivory.  Ivory carving was an art form perfected by the Chinese and later by Japanese artists/craftsmen in the 18 and 19 century respectively.  In the early days, elephant tusks were found in piles, and elephants were not killed for their tusks.  No one carves new ivory today, but lately there is a resurgence in the art market for old ivory objects d’art, such as this 10 inch tall vase from the eighteen century Qing Dynasty illustrated here.  It was sold at the March 2011 Asian Arts Auction at Freeman's in Philadelphia.

Recently I was an exhibitor at the International Antiques Fair at the Merchandise Mart in Chicago.  An acquaintance from Mainland China named Lan whom I met a few months before asked if I could help her out.  She needed some advice on buying ivory.  I do not sell ivory but I do have some knowledge by being on the antique show circuit and ivory was an important craft in Hong Kong where I grew up.

Lan led me to a fabulous display of antique ivory objects in a space belonging to an important dealer of high end art objects.  There were both Chinese and Japanese ivory carvings and they ranged from artistic pieces to ones that were exquisitely carved but made for the export market.  She asked very basic questions – were these real ivories, were they old and why were they in different colors?  Immediately I knew Lan had no notions about ivory but she was on a dangerous mission to buy some for her brother who lives in China.  I stress on the word dangerous – it is so easy to make mistakes when one buys antiques.  The rule in the antiques business is you either trust the dealer or yourself.  In Lan’s case, she did not know the dealer and she was treading into territories without prior knowledge.  She was counting on me, and putting me on the spot where my advice could either cost the dealer a good sale, or Lan a bad investment.

I realized Lan did not have my advantages.  I, the ever inquisitive child who dawdled in front of ivory shop windows in Central (downtown Hong Kong) at least once a week and memorized every design I had seen from figurines to ivory balls with movable centers.  Conversely, I was also privileged to learn early on that ivory in private collections bore no resemblance to the commercially produced carvings for the tourist trade.  Art objects made of ivory were unique designs of beauty in form and execution.  It could be a large elephant tusk where every centimeter was covered with exquisite carving to something as small as a seed on which poetic inscriptions were not visible to the naked eye.  So how could I transmit this accumulated knowledge of a lifetime in a few sentences with a language problem to boot?  My ability to speak Putonghua was even more challenged than Lan’s English comprehension.  Somehow I managed to convey to her that as a fellow dealer in the show, I should not influence her buying, the decision had to be hers.  Secondly, I could tell her about the pieces that she was interested in, why some pieces cost more than others and which were the ones worthy of collecting.  Thirdly, I could advise her to tell her brother as a new collector, he should get the most for his money, and in this case, it would be exquisite carving on a piece with good size.  Then I walked away, leaving Lan to do her own negotiations.

Later on I was relieved to find out that Lan did make a purchase.  She was as eager to buy as the dealer was anxious to sell.  She selected a good pair of 19 century ivory vases that were made for the export market.  In the following day, ivory objects sold for astronomical prices at Leslie Hindman's Asian Arts auction.  Lan did very well indeed.

Postscript 
The idea behind this piece is not to promote nor condone the sale of artistic ivory objects.  I just wish to make a point that sometimes art dealers are put "on the spot" and that was the exact case.  I like to think I am a "good" dealer and I have my own ethics.  I do not wish to misguide a novice collector nor do I wish a fellow dealer to lose a sale.  Fortunately it all turned out well for all concerned.