Wow, I thought as I saw the dusty stone African figures on the auction website. It was déjà vu, because I had seen an exact piece like it at another auction a week ago.
It was a small tabletop sculpture of African warriors in painted garb, dancing flag-pole style around a totem-like figure with an oversized head. Eight of the warriors were arranged around the perimeter of the round flat surface, and something mimicking sand was spread beneath them. Two figures inside the circle appeared to be women with sticks in her hand, as if they were tapping drums.
At the first auction house, one of the inside figures was lying on her back, with two broken arms nearby. The photo on the second auction house website showed the two upright on their knees.
It was amazing to me that I’d come upon these two similar pieces within a week of each other. They must’ve been pretty popular, I thought to myself.
As soon as I got to the second auction, I searched for the piece and finally found it in a glass case where the auction house kept the good stuff it expected to bring big bucks. I asked to look at it from behind the glass. Then I saw the broken arms, and realized that this was not a second grouping but the same one – this time offered in a more pleasing setting but still unkempt. It was a good demonstration of the importance of presentation. At the first auction house, the piece had been placed between some other disparate items on a table, where it fought for attention.
When I moved the inside figures, I found that they were not stationary. The others on the perimeter were held in place with what looked like nails, and some of them twirled when touched. The piece was very dusty and dirty, and whoever bought it would have to give it a good cleaning.
I shouldn’t have been surprised that items bought at one auction would show up at another. I wasn’t around when the item sold at the previous auction, but the owner likely paid very little for it and was hoping for a big payoff the second time around, especially with the item locked inside a glass case.
I also wasn’t surprised because sellers know that African or African American stuff sells. Buyers sometimes get into bidding wars over it, because now it’s fashionable. At the second auction house, I went tit-for-tat with a buyer over some vintage glass plate photo negatives with a Northern Baptist Convention label on them.
The box of plates was labeled “Negro photo slides,” and I pulled out a few and held them up to the light. There was no indication of where they were taken or when, but they looked to be missionary photos taken of African peoples and others.
Seeing the warriors’ piece wasn’t my first déjà-vu moment. Items often have a second life at another auction house. On that same day at the same auction house, I saw some camera lenses and flashes that had been sold about two weeks ago. Sometimes buyers don’t pay for their items, so the stuff finds its way back onto the tables.
Although the African tabletop piece was grimy, it was interesting. There were no markings on it, and it appeared to be handmade with a folk-art sensibility. The figures seemed so colonialist because the features were more grotesque than complimentary. They appeared to be the African version of some of the stuff passed off as Black Americana. The piece itself was crude and was likely one of a kind.
I was curious about the origin and the age, but I could find nothing resembling it on the web. Were they dancing as part of a ritual to ensure success for an undertaking – either to wage war against an enemy or bring home food for their village? Or did it represent one of the the many other reasons for ceremonial dancing in some African societies?
I wasn’t around when the piece sold, but I wondered if the buyer got lucky this time.
