I hadn’t been to this auction house in a couple years, but as soon as I walked in the door I noticed that very little had changed. Near the front door to the left was a thick stack of cardboard boxes that you wouldn’t want to light a match near. On the other side was a row of glass cases that didn’t seem to have been opened in years.
The room did allow for enough space to set up rows of chairs walled in by merchandise stacked on top of each other, on tables and in cases. In the midst of this disorder was a display – no, that would imply deliberateness – it was more a grouping of some impressive bronzes. If they had been anything else less significant, they would’ve been lost in the clutter and dimness of the spot.
Sitting tightly together were bronzes of bare-chested women and men, winged horses, mythical gods and warriors. Behind one of them was a yellow sign with black lettering: “Laszlo Ispanky Bronzes.” A tag on another bronze of a woman cut off at the thighs noted that they were not to be sold tonight.
A regular at this auction house walked up as I stood there admiring them. They’ve been here for quite some time, he said, noting that they probably wouldn’t be sold here but at some auction house in New York. That wouldn’t be surprising, since folks like me go to auction houses like this to buy cheap, and these did not smell of cheap.
Some of the sculptures were awesome, and they looked to be as heavy as they were lovely. Bronzes have a richness and boldness of character, and they always seemed steadfast and resolute, as if they would live forever. These seemed to have a humanity about them.
I’ve come across two sculptures at auction that particularly moved me. One was a depiction of two children expressively dancing the cakewalk. When my auction buddy Janet and I first saw them about three years ago at another auction house, we immediately knew the sculpture was modeled after black children. It was something in their attitude. I learned later that the Carl Kauba sculpture was likely that of entertainers Ruth and Fredy Walker from the early 20th century.
The other was a Louis Slobodkin woman with an attitude.
For now, Laszlo Ispanky’s works had captured my eye. He was a famous sculptor and artist who was born in Hungary and emigrated to the United States in the 1950s. He started out making figurines for Cybis Porcelain, and eventually opened his own company in the 1960s. He also created porcelains for Goebel and Lenox.
His works are in major collections, including the Museum of Modern Art, the Smithsonian, the Brooklyn Museum, the Royal Place in Sweden, Buckingham Palace and the Vatican.
His pieces were presented by U.S. presidents as gifts to foreign heads of states. He made basketball players for the Basketball Hall of Fame in Springfield, MA; a sculpture that was presented to Egyptian President Anwar Sadat and a praying George Washington at Valley Forge for Royal Doulton. He also did commissions for monuments, sculptures and fountains around the world.
On a smaller scale, he annually designed bisque Christmas ornaments that were made and sold by mentally handicapped people in Florida as a fund-raiser.
Ispanky also found the time to write a book about his life, “Laszlo Ispanky: The Man and His Work” in 1977.
He died in 2010 in Hopewell, NJ, at age 90, leaving behind more than 500 pieces of art, which were sold at auction later that year. The bronzes brought in $500 to $5,500 each, according to Antiques and Auction News. The porcelains went for $300 to $500 each and the paintings, $200 to $600 each.
“The Lord sent me to this Earth with the awesome responsibility of the gift of art,” he was quoted as saying. “Despite many difficulties, I have continued to use this God-given talent to create fine art sculpture for the world to enjoy.
“I am free to create. There is nothing I love more.”
