They were lying almost cheek to cheek on a long table, in double rows, at the auction house. Some of the nicest African masks I’ve seen in a while.
Some years ago, I was into buying African masks. I became fanatical about them and have too many on my living room and dining room walls, and at the curve at the bottom of my stairs. I love African masks because of what they represent: The real ones were imbibed with the spirit of the peoples’ ancestors and were worn in ceremonies – either for harvest, funerals, war or hunting. They are among the true art form of African, more functional art that wall art.
I don’t buy them much anymore, but when I checked out the auction house’s website a few days before, I saw at least four masks that I liked. They were the faces of women, with raffia or straw hair that reminded me of the locs I wear and the braids that frame the faces of many other black women.
As the bidding started at auction this week, the auctioneer noted that the masks – more than 75 of them – had come from one person’s collection, a professor who lived in Philadelphia. I’m not sure how old these were; it’s hard to tell just by looking, but I’m sure that any of value had already been removed. What we got at auction – which is usually the case – were the leftovers.
But that didn’t seem to deter those of us who were there, including the several obvious dealers – one of whom walked off with plenty of them. Looking at this collection, I could tell that the professor had invested a lot of time and money in it. Too bad the pieces ended up here where the investment was whittled down to $20 here and $60 there. As I recall from my days of buying masks retail, they were not cheap.
Here at auction, most of the prices were pretty reasonable, except for the ones I wanted. They were among the most popular (one bidder, an employee of the auction house, snatched two of them out of my grasp):
Chokwe Angola female mask or Mwana Pwo, which represents the female ancestor of the Chokwe people and a sign of ideal female beauty. Carved wood decorated with glass beads, nut or seed pods, and straw or raffia hair. Adorned with glass bead earrings. Lower right in photo. $150. Didn’t get it.
Dan carved wood mask, Liberia or Ivory Coast. Braided rope hair around face and beard. Upper left in photo. $100. Didn’t get it. This was my favorite, though.
Dan carved wood mask, from Ivory Coast. Full headdress, burlap fabric and string head and hair, with cowrie shells. Large beak-like mouth and nose. Upper right in photo. $120. Didn’t get it.
Kuba carved wood mask, from Zaire. Raffia, glass beads and cowrie shells. Polychrome face. Lower left in photo. $80. Didn’t get it.
As I sat there and watched some of the prices rise near or above $100, I realized that I didn’t have to have any of those masks. I have some lovely ones already at home. The prices, for me, just weren’t right.
My auction buddy Janet did get two very nice small body masks, something I had never seen before. Made by the Makonde people of Tanzania, they were the carved breasts and stomachs of pregnant women. There was also a larger version (it sold for $40, interest obviously was not high). These body masks are worn by boys and girls during coming-out ceremonies.
Some other more interesting pieces (they fetched the highest prices). Photos are from the auction house’s website:
Ejagham (Ekoi) headdress, from Nigeria. Large carved wood double-faced bust with antelope leather skin, two curved horns. $230. This one was scary-looking, as another auction-goer also pointed out. Can’t imagine having it in my house.
Large carved wood figural headdress, from the Baga people of Guinea. Decorated with metal studs trim. $200. This is the most important form of Baga art. It looked like it weighed a ton, and measured 36″ tall, 34″ wide and 18″ deep.
For the time being, you can see the rest of the pieces on the auction house’s website.
