Vintage View: Tales of woe

Some years ago I was stoically viewing lots in an well-known Munster auction house, when I glanced up and noticed a large painting displayed high on the walls of the double storey building.

This picture was a heavily-interpreted racing scene called ‘At the Start’, sketched roughly in oils and unfinished (or so my senses lubricated with greed told me). It nestled in a heavily carved frame, which appeared as potentially interesting as its contents. The artistry was accomplished and cobwebs laced the crusty corners of the faded gilded frame. My brain was just about boiling in my head from two Lucozades over lunch, and I became dangerously over-excited.

Instead of asking a porter to bring the painting down for examination, I bounced around amongst the tables and chairs making the odd cunning circuit of the room to cover my interest. The legend in the catalogue read blankly: ‘Painting of Horses. 20th Century’. Right there was all anyone with any experience needed to know. There was no indication of any provenance or age, whatsoever and the auctioneer wasn’t putting his reputation on the line.