A large portion of Joseph Duveen’s time, as detailed in Meryl Secrest’s fairly recent biography, was spent in traveling to and spending considerable time with his stable of clients. Duveen’s halcyon days in the first quarter of the last century meant, of course, that he had almost constant access to the magnates of the time. Henry and Arabella Huntington, Henry Clay Frick, Andrew Mellon, William Randolph Hearst, and even J.P. Morgan were his intimates. This always surprised me, in that, though Duveen was one at the highest levels, he still was, basically, a shopkeeper, whose galleries were open to anyone who happened to walk in the door. And, frankly, they did. Although impressive, Duveen’s galleries in London, Paris, and New York were very visible and accessible without appointment. Rather gilded examples, but shops all the same.
Why, then, could he deal on terms of such equality and intimacy with men, and women, whose wealth and influence must certainly have dwarfed his own? Further, how could Duveen’s relationship with these people have achieved such a primacy that time could always be carved out of their schedules to see him?
Even with a tenure of only six years in this business, answers to these questions have gradually begun to declare themselves. What we’ve found is that, in the first instance, maintaining a gallery open to the public in an active venue like Jackson Square or Kensington Church Street is the best advertisement a gallery owner can have, along with regular, posted hours. Beyond that, Keith and I are early arrivers- between 7.30 and 8 AM on most mornings, and when we arrive, the lights go on and the sandwich board is placed on the sidewalk- we are open for business. Don’t I just wish I could name the people who have come in to our galleries for the very first time in the early morning!
But once inside, of course, the visitor has to be struck by the material that is offered. Even lesser works must articulate with the more spectacular. This is key, and also something Duveen was aware of. He wasn’t the only dealer, and neither are we, and we certainly realize that very item must have a compelling reason for inclusion in our inventory. We never comment on a colleague’s material, but Duveen was not shy about openly criticizing the inferior quality of other dealer’s stock in trade, with the result that he was in frequent litigation. When he did say something complimentary about an item offered by another dealer, his compliment was always tempered with the statement ‘Of course, it isn’t a Duveen.’
He did, ostensibly, mean to communicate to clients that anything purchased from another dealer was, at best, second rate. Was this the reason that the likes of Henry Clay Frick, whose ruthlessness in crushing the Homestead Steel strike made him one of most hated men in America, purchased so much material from Duveen? Frankly, Frick was more than a little hard nosed, and I very much doubt a bit of Duveen’s bluster would have influenced Frick very much.
Obliquely, though, Frick et al did buy, both literally and figuratively, what Duveen was selling- they were buying a Duveen look. We’ve found ourselves that collectors rarely buy only one item from us- they buy many, over a course of years. Duveen would certainly claim it was testimony to his ability to acquire the best material and use his reputation to then induce his clients to make a purchase, but ultimately, what his clients bought was Duveen’s taste. And, at the end of the day, although it may manifest itself in the purchase of objects of varying types, that is what our collector clients are buying from us. I’ll further flesh out my ideas about the dynamics between dealer and client/collector in tomorrow’s blog.