Showing posts with label auctions. Show all posts
Showing posts with label auctions. Show all posts

Tuesday, 18 September 2018

How to Spot Fake Roman Lamps

Figure 1
Inspired by a recent article on 'How to Spot Fake Cuneiform Tablets', I've decided to do the same for fake ancient lamps. Well no, that's actually a bit of a porky. The article on cuneiform tablets is quite long and I have no intention of trying to cram even a general introduction to spotting fake ancient lamps (history, motivation, case studies, manufacture, regional variation, analysis, repercussions and so on) into a mere blog post. I'll leave that for a chapter in the proverbial 'future book'. My post will be more in the nature of making a couple of very quick observations.

The finest fake lamps can be quite difficult to detect and to cover that end of the topic in the depth necessary would require a thesis rather than a blog post so I'll lower the tone and, without going into detail for fear of alerting fakers to amend their future products, simply confine most of my post to a few brief comments on some of the commonest duds (though, despite my title, not only those purporting to be 'Roman').

Although detecting fake Roman lamps is not always as easy as knowing the difference between a Roman gladiator and Robin Hood (Fig.1, top left), recognising a great deal of the rubbish churned out to flog to gullible tourists or eBay punters needs little more than common sense.

Army uniform

Figure 2

Lamps were produced in huge numbers in ancient times but, despite what some sellers would like you to believe, lamps that were made in different workshops in different areas at different periods were not all made from identical clay with identical colour and did not acquire identical patination. That observation applies to this sample of well-known fakes from the 'Syrian Series', offered, among a plethora of other spurious nonsense, by a notorious dealer in New York City (Fig.2, above).

Figure 3

The same applies to this selection of blatant fakes from the 'Bulgarian Volute Series', offered for prices ranging from $396 to $1,596 by an American dealer on both eBay and VCoins (Fig.3, above). Noting the huge variety of real Roman volute lamps (plus the plastic and factory types included here) is only a mouse-click away.

Sensing the dubious nature of a single presentation of lamps that all have almost identical fabric despite purporting to have different origins is of course child's play. The task becomes more difficult when, instead of being shown together, those same lamps enter circulation and are unwittingly mingled with authentic ones by inexperienced collectors or uninformed dealers. At least three of the lamps in this publicity shot for the sales catalogue of an upmarket business in Chicago (Fig.4, below) are also likely to be modern fakes from the 'Bulgarian Volute Series' but picking them out from the other items requires a sharper eye. While most products of that series should be clear enough, a few of them can be quite deceptive when isolated from their siblings and their detection may involve an analysis that is outside the cursory scope of my blog post.

Figure 4

Variations on a theme

Figure 5

The uniformity of the modern items mentioned in the previous section is probably due to their production in only one or two workshops in very recent times. The situation changes when a style of fake lamp has been made over a long period. Workshops alter their methods over time and, inspired by their success, other workshops copy the style, perhaps adding a few idiosyncrasies of their own to the basic design. The clay and finish then also begin to vary quite dramatically over the years, as can be seen in such hackneyed classics as the infamous 'Hathor Type' (Fig.5, above), a fantasy produced in vast quantities to dupe credulous tourists in Egypt since Victorian days.

Figure 6

Much like the Egyptian makers of the 'Hathor Type' with its enigmatic face, a few enterprising citizens of Tunisia have also long ago recognised the irrepressible urge of tourists to buy the improbable but exotic and have been busily fulfilling that demand with items from the 'La Marsa Group' since the 1950s. This group, likewise with a variety of clay, finish and detail, includes a lamp in the form of a head with no less than three nozzles, backed up by one depicting an archer and another displaying a disproportionately huge Christian symbol (Fig.6, above).

Far from putting tourists off, their childlike crudity, artificially time-worn condition and frequently dark and dirty surface are calculated to win over a species of clientele who very often fail to appreciate that real ancient lamps were largely intended for discerning adults and typically spent most of their existence sealed from the wear and grease of human handling by being buried underground.

Swimming with the tide

Figure 7

Never one to neglect an orphan merely because its origin is obscure, I feel another quirky lamp is due for consideration. The 'Dolphin Type' (Fig.7, above) appears to be based on genuine Hellenistic lamps found in Asia Minor but the feature of an offset handle is strikingly exaggerated into an obvious fishtail shape and its body often bloats out on the opposite side so that the whole thing resembles a classical dolphin. Differences in clay and finish suggest the type was made by different makers over a long period yet, contrary to the other variations normally found in such cases, the same crude pattern of slapdash ridges adorns the upper surface of every example encountered, almost as if the manufacturers were terrified of updating, modifying or refining the moulds for fear of making the product look too sophisticated and alienating a clientele who expected it to look primitive.

Although examples of this boldly unconventional type are very common on the commercial market, where their zoomorphic design appeals to buyers, I am not aware of any example from a documented archaeological excavation, their curiously arrested development beyond an endlessly repeated basic concept gives pause for thought, and I have long been doubtful of their authenticity. They share some aspects with the 'La Marsa Group' and I suspect they may be related. Like members of that family, lamps of the 'Dolphin Type' are a crudely executed exotic form circulating for many decades and show the consequent variations in clay, finish and detail that prolonged manufacture tends to entail but the fabric of some examples is remarkably similar to that of examples belonging to the Tunisian series (Fig.8, below).

Figure 8

Tunisia was a French colony for over seventy years, the French language is still widely spoken there and, with the exception of those from neighbouring countries, people from France form by far the largest number of foreign tourists today. Small wonder then that fakes from the 'La Marsa Group' crop up on the French market far more often than elsewhere in Europe. The fact that the same applies to lamps of the 'Dolphin Type' seems unlikely to be mere coincidence.

A touch of class

I'm nearing the limit for a blog post but in case any readers are complacent in the thought that spotting fake ancient lamps is simply a matter of avoiding those that come in identical batches and those in improbable styles, I'll end with an example of the better class I mentioned earlier. The lamp shown here (Fig.9, below) is an accurate style with a very convincing clay, finish and patination, a type that can easily fool many curators and dealers into accepting it as an ancient artefact from Imperial Rome.

Figure 9

The lamp is indeed Italian and it is indeed old - but not nearly as old as you might think. Closer examination reveals that it is a 19th-century fake belonging to the 'Naples Group', a series named after the city where they were made from about 1870 up to the First World War. Some of the most convincing fakes are those made many decades ago and the older they are, very often the more plausible they become. Time and time again I find undoubtedly old but nevertheless fake lamps proudly displayed in provincial museums or advertised in the catalogues of reputable dealers and auction houses. Thus, they can even acquire an impressive provenance over the years.

As to the gladiatorial scene shown on the discus: although an accurate copy of a genuine motif, it is always wise to be extra cautious with any lamp depicting gladiators or bawdy sex scenes. Lamps with those themes were produced in large numbers in ancient times since Romans apparently loved them but fakers are well aware that modern people love them too and pay high prices for them.

----------------
A pictorial summary of over 30 fake ancient lamps is included on my website. An example of one of the items shown in Figure 4 is listed as FB5.

A useful series of observations and case studies is also included on the website of a prominent ADA member.


Wednesday, 2 May 2018

Antiquarian book sale - Beverly Hills style

This prayer book is being auctioned by Ambiance Arts and Antiques, a flashy shop in Beverly Hills, on eBay. Although the book is undoubtedly valuable, both the sales pitch and the venue caused some amusement. It seems to be Beverly Hills at its finest. The price of $3,500,000 may seem a trifle steep. But we are advised that the book is not only "unique", it's also "rare" as well!

(I do wish people would realise that the word "unique" means 'the only one of its kind' - which makes the tautologous word "rare" a bit of a superfluous understatement.)

The description falls somewhat short of what might be expected of a normal dealer in antiquarian books but note the warning: "QUALIFIED BUYERS ONLY". In order to qualify, perhaps any potential customer must first prove: a) that he has more money than the entire economy of Switzerland and b) that he has had a full frontal lobotomy.


Although the "last page of this book shows the date", the seller seems to have trouble understanding it. The Persian year 1123 equates to 1744 in the Gregorian calendar and the Islamic year 1123 equates to 1711 in the Gregorian calendar, neither of which is "circa 1706".


The book boasts a "beautiful gold hard cover". That sounds extremely impressive but I suspect it actually means the binding is gilt morocco, which is not quite the same thing. And "70 pages" presumably means 70 leaves (in bibliographic collation a page is only one side of a leaf). And I'm guessing the baby phrases "hand writer" and "hand writing" are pitched at a semi-literate clientele who might have difficulty with the adult words "calligrapher" and "manuscript".

Curiously for an item offered for such a large sum of money, there is not the slightest hint of its condition (whether the binding is loose, whether any leaves are missing, torn, dog-eared, etc.) or, apart from its original owner, of its provenance (later inscriptions, library stamps, auction records, ALR check, etc.). A comment on Daum glassware offered by the same seller suggests an attitude to condition may be somewhat cavalier and a publicised spate of book thefts from libraries in the Middle East and elsewhere indicates that a mention of provenance would be wise. I'm not entirely sure that the generous offer of free postage offsets concerns that the seller states "NO RETURN" in big red letters.

Sadly, if "Sultan Hussain Safavi [...] used it every day for praying and keeping himself out of sickness and trouble", it didn't work very well. Eleven of his twelve sons were slaughtered and his dynasty was nearing its end when he was himself beheaded. Perhaps a bad omen ...



Thursday, 24 August 2017

Ancient Egyptian antiquity: real or fake?

A member of an online antiquities forum recently posted images of a bust that had just appeared on the market (see Update below). It seemed to be Ancient Egyptian. The seller of the artefact gave the usual story: old estate, in the family since about the 1920s, no details known. In other words, it had zero real provenance. But the bust itself did look convincingly authentic. Was it real?

Some members of the forum noted a similarity to the famous Nefertiti bust in Berlin. Was it contemporary?

Well, the bust does have an Amarna look ... but it is neither Nefertiti nor even female. I noticed it bore a startling resemblance to another bust at the Neues Museum in Berlin, that of a young pharaoh (perhaps Smenkhkare, Akhenaton or Tutankhamun) and registered as Ident.Nr. ÄM 20496.


In fact, the resemblance was rather too close. The breakage and fractures on the right side of the subject's face and neck (left side of the image) of the bust on the market were an uncanny match to those on the bust in Berlin. It was a little too coincidental and it was glaringly obvious that the bust on the market was a fake copy.

Taken in isolation, the market bust looks remarkably convincing. But of course the lack of real provenance was an immediate warning. Not only from a legal or ethical point of view. It is extremely unlikely that an artefact of that significance would not have been recorded and documented somewhere at some time.

Caveat emptor!

-- UPDATE --

I have now tracked the item down. It is being sold by Thomaston Place Auction Galleries of Maine, USA, on an online auction website and bidding is due to end on 26 August 2017.

Auction description:
Lot 695: ANCIENT EGYPTIAN STONE BUST
Head of Amun, New Kingdom, post-Amarna Period, Dynasty 18, reign of Tutankhamen, ca. 1336–1327 B.C. (in our opinion). Probably from Upper Egypt, Thebes. Sandstone with remnants of pigment, having refined features, portion of flat top cap and indication of beard, now missing. The features resemble those of Tutankhamen, indicate this was probably his commission, as part of the reconstruction of the temples. 8 1/2" tall. Loss to nose, scratches and chips, nice age patina.

-- SECOND UPDATE --

The item is now shown as having sold for $15,000.




Friday, 18 August 2017

The trauma of authenticating antiquities

"Roman Ring" (Stage One reject)
"How can you possibly tell it's fake just from a photograph? It needs to be handled in person under magnification!"

I hear that protest from inexperienced buyers of antiques and antiquities all the time. They may have seen paintings being minutely examined under microscopes and X-rays by experts in a TV programme but they fail to realise that these procedures are advanced steps in a progressive process.

Regardless of whether an old man-made object is a painting, an antique, an antiquity or anything else, the process of determining if it is authentic or not (i.e. if it is actually what it seems or purports to be) follows a graduated path.

For the purpose of this blog post we'll focus on antiquities. As with paintings and other collectable items, an artefact's provenance (history of ownership) can play a vital part in helping to establish its legitimacy - in both the authentic and legal sense - but here we'll leave that aside and concentrate on the object itself.

Authentication Stages
There are at least three basic stages in the expert authentication of an antiquity.
Stage One: Visual check.
This initial stage can be conducted simply from an image (or series of images) of the object. The object can be identified and an assessment made of whether it is potentially an authentic example of its type. The majority of extraneous objects such as fantasy pieces with no ancient counterpart, obvious fakes, reproductions and other irrelevant distractions can be readily weeded out at this stage with no further action necessary. 
Stage Two: Physical examination.
If the object has passed Stage One (potentially an authentic example of its type), it then progresses to a physical examination. Ideally, this involves a meticulous analysis aided by any basic tools that may be appropriate, including magnification, lighting devices, scales, swabs, solvents, etc. Characteristics such as style, artistic details, epigraphy, construction, manufacture, fabric, patination and so on are closely compared with parallels (both those documented as genuine and those documented as forgeries). Any former repairs, alterations or restorations are detected. 
Stage Three: Scientific analysis.
If the results of the physical examination in Stage Two are inconclusive or need to be verified, the object may then be subjected to scientific analysis such as metal testing, thermoluminescence (TL) dating, radiocarbon dating, dendrochronology or whatever method may be applicable in order to gather more evidence.
What many people fail to understand when they are incredulous that an object can be condemned without going through Stage Two or Stage Three is that the object has already fallen at the first hurdle and failed Stage One. Too often, they are under the delusion that since they cannot tell if the object is fake from only an image, no one else can either.

Expertise
I did say 'expert authentication'. Expertise varies. New collectors frequently regard institutions such as museums or major auction houses as infallible oracles whose pronouncements can be treated as gospel. But it should be borne in mind that no matter how prestigious the institution, the opinion given is only as good as the individual giving it. While people employed by major institutions are typically screened, possess impressive academic qualifications and may have enormous knowledge in their own field, their competence in gauging objects that are less familiar to them may fall far below that of a small dealer or collector who specialises in objects of that type.

By 'expertise' I mean not only a deep knowledge of the type of object being reviewed, it also entails a huge degree of experience in handling both genuine and false examples of them. Even someone with that background can make mistakes of course - hence the frequent need for subsequent stages before venturing an informed opinion - but more obvious fakes can be confidently rejected by merely glancing at an image of them during the first stage.

Broad Categories
Objects that are offered as antiquities fall into four broad categories.
1) An object (complete, fragmentary or repaired) that is certainly ancient in its entirety. 
2) An object that is obviously modern in its entirety. 
3) A 'restored', 'enhanced', 'married' or altered object that is certainly ancient in part and obviously modern in part but in which the borders are clear. The judgement of such an object is clearly subjective but factors such as the degree of modern material or treatment and the extent to which the original integrity has been affected are taken into account. 
4) An object that does not fit into the previous classifications due to uncertainty. This vast category requires at least Stage Two of the authentication process in order to reach a worthwhile conclusion. And in many cases doubt may still remain.
It is typically the objects in the second category that fail Stage One. It may also be wise to avoid many objects in the fourth category. The judgement of those in the third category is largely based on a consideration of intent and degree. While honest restoration may be perfectly acceptable, substantial alteration can be classed as a form of fakery. An ancient papyrus with a purely modern inscription, for instance, is undoubtedly regarded as fake.

Backlash
Sometimes, an owner's refusal to acknowledge that their object is not what they want it to be is passionate and my own diplomacy in dealing with that situation was nurtured by bitter experience. I had to authenticate items brought in by members of the public when I worked at an auction house - and their reaction could be unpredictable if I had to inform them that the item was a fake or reproduction. It could be particularly hazardous when conversing face-to-face. Some would merely go into a stony state of denial and tell me how stupid I was while a few owners would launch into a plethora of expletives and threaten me as they slammed the door on their way out.

None of us is fond of anything that may shatter our dream - and it is often wise to seek more than one opinion - but it needs to be realised that a huge proportion of objects purporting to be antiquities are so outrageously fake to anyone familiar with the real thing that they can be condemned outright - even from only an image. In those cases it's the truth that needs to be handled, not the object.




Tuesday, 18 November 2014

Outrage in Missouri

Humour - a vanishing resource?
Archaeologist Dr Donna Yates recently expressed her worry that her scholarly research on the origins of two Mesoamerican artefacts sold by the St Louis AIA may have enhanced the price fetched at Bonham's auction on 12 November. Scholars tend to avoid discussing unprovenanced antiquities on the principle that enhancing the commercial value of such artefacts may encourage looting. These items were not in fact in that category (they were well provenanced) but I still understand Dr Yates's position.

I posted this somehat light-hearted comment on Paul Barford's coverage of the event:
"Well, if it's any consolation to Donna Yates, the other lot she mentioned (Lot 149: Zapotec Figural Urn) sold for only $3,750, well within the original $3,000–5,000 estimate. I suspect that the doubling of the price for Lot 156 (Maya Effigy Vase) was motivated more by the fact that it is 'prettier' (the art market being shallow as always) rather than a consideration of the increased depth of its academic credentials. I think Dr Yates need not lose any sleep."
I thought nothing more of it but on revisiting Paul's post a few days later, I was surprised to find that my brief comment had provoked an outraged response from Wayne Sayles, Executive Director of the Ancient Coin Collectors Guild (a deceptively-named lobby group for American coin dealers). He was apparently horrified by my gentle dig at the art market and couched his diatribe in what was presumably intended to be biting sarcasm ...
"Annointed scholar David Knell expressed an erudite opinion [...] How enlightening!  The art market ought perhaps to consider the views of archaeologists when it comes to valuation of works.  If the views of archaeologists and similar highly educated "experts" are to be taken seriously, every artifact more than 100 years old, menial as it might be, is of inestimable value and is essentially "priceless"."
Well, in a figurative sense, every artefact that adds to our knowledge of the human past is "priceless" - but that wasn't the point of my comment.

It's a pity that someone living in a state that produced one of the greatest humourists of all time appears to have no grasp of the concept himself. My comment about the art market was slightly tongue-in-cheek but the humour clearly flew stratospherically over the head of this present-day resident of Missouri.

His disgruntled response, however, betrays that there might be a strong element of truth underlying my comment. Certainly, Sayles himself seems to be scandalised by the notion that anything more intellectually taxing than gushing over how pretty an object is should have any effect whatsoever on its worth.

What value could an artefact possibly have other than how well it complements Aunt Mary's drapes in the living room or how nicely it fills a gap in an upmarket equivalent of a sticker album? And it's all legal, innit?

God forbid that some fool might actually see value in knowing the individual history of an historical object. Such a radical and unseemly exercising of brain cells could end up challenging the time-honoured mindset that artefacts are mere baubles that should be pigeonholed and graded by comparing them to pictures in a book. And, even more apocalyptically, it could thus threaten the very mindset on which much of the antiquities trade (notably that in ancient coins) is largely dependent.

Perhaps most dealers of Sayles's acquaintance share his indignant dismissal of the value of knowledge. But someone once said that "whenever you find yourself on the side of the majority, it is time to pause and reflect". In the meantime, I do wish this affronted advocate of dealers' 'rights' would try to lighten up a bit. My quip was hardly in the same league as those by Mark Twain - and literary perception may have dulled a little in the internet age - but it would be a sad indictment of the ACCG that any remark today must be accompanied by at least a dozen smilies before their dour members could even guess that it might have been intended as dry humour.



Thursday, 4 September 2014

British history revamped by London road works during the 1970s

Now a season of rock festivals and other general summer debauchery has abated, it's time to add a little to my blog ...


A couple of "Roman" lamps from "c.100 A.D." being sold on eBay caught my eye:
http://www.ebay.co.uk/itm/351154976647 (ending 4 September)
http://www.ebay.co.uk/itm/141391709622 (ending 6 September)

Both are described as "British found in London during 1970s road works". Since both lamps are actually types made in northern Syria during the 5th - 6th centuries AD, the finds could add a whole new exciting dimension to British history. Are they evidence of an early attempt to found a Syrian monastery in darkest Maida Vale?

Sadly, such musings are doomed by the harsh reality that lamps of this type are not found in Britain until brought back from the Levant as souvenirs in modern times, typically by either tourists or dealers rather than Byzantine monks. It is of course possible that workmen involved in the "1970s road works" inadvertently blasted through the basement stockroom of a London antiquities dealer in that era of black-outs and power cuts - oops! - but the reputation of the eBay seller suggests another reason for the sensational claim.

The seller is the infamous "Saxby's Coins". Even he seems to balk at trying to pass off ancient Greek, Egyptian and Chinese items as having come from an English meadow but he has no hesitation in describing almost everything else he sells as "British found". Despite the fact that much of his stock appears to derive from metal detecting on the European mainland, such as this "c.1450 A.D British Found Medieval Period Hammered Type European Silver Coin" (actually minted at Elbing in Poland and clearly dated 1632), the seller is apparently convinced that pretending it has all been discovered in the UK will enhance the price.

The stories weaved to launder 'high-end' antiquities are old news but these lamps demonstrate just how far some dealers are prepared to go in fabricating the provenance of even minor items. Not content with a mere "British found", it seems this seller has happily invented a place (London), a time (1970s) and an event (road works) to increase plausibility.

Just how much faith can we place on mere hearsay, whether it is a dealer's undocumented claim of provenance when selling an item or a person's undocumented claim of a findspot and circumstances when getting an item recorded in the PAS database?

There is much to be said in favour of Elizabeth Marlowe's contention (Shaky Ground: Context, Connoisseurship and the History of Roman Art. Bloomsbury Academic, 2013) that only 'grounded' (archaeologically documented) antiquities form a truly reliable basis for scholarship; those which are 'ungrounded' (lacking archaeological confirmation) can be risky and, if the stories attached to them are simply taken at face-value, may be thoroughly misleading.

Monday, 7 April 2014

Son of Cuneiform Tablet on eBay - the Sequel

As a sequel to my earlier noting of eBay stupidity, Paul Barford has pointed out that just when you think it can't get any worse, it does. A lot of two fake bits of cuneiform from the same seller (and said to be from the same source) has sold for £431 - even more than the price of the previous rubbish.

The buyer may well be happy with their purchase forever and never accept the truth even if it is pointed out. I used to be on the receiving end of the incredulity (and occasional insults) of such owners when I worked as an auction house 'expert'. The typical reaction was to go into immediate denial, carefully wrap up their fake item again, and then leave shaking their head with a wry smile and a muttered "You don't know what you're talking about". I kept quiet of course but was frequently tempted to yell back "You can't handle the truth!" in my best Jack Nicholson impression.

AddThis

LinkWithin

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...