[[[pull_quote]]]

Estimating how much a work of art is likely to fetch at auction has never been an easy game. These days it is becoming nearly impossible.

The fundamental problem is that as art supplies dwindle, so does the number of pictures or objects at recent sales that might offer a valid base of comparison.

Auction house specialists must increasingly rely on their personal instinct and that makes it easier for consignors to insist on ever-higher estimates — the perverse effect of rarity is that it can be invoked as an excuse to justify an extra hike. This past June in London, the result was a chaotic pattern at the Impressionist and modern art sales. In a market more bullish than ever, several works soared sky high, but many more only just made it and a few star lots actually dropped dead. There is always a point beyond which buyers, however easily impressed by the experts’ discourse, will stall, deciding that enough is enough, even in a market as consistently bullish as it is now.

At Sotheby’s on June 22, the evening sale reserved for the finest of the finest ran to just 51 lots, many of which were indifferent, when not downright mediocre. Three pictures stood out in marked contrast.

The most remarkable was Edouard Manets self-portrait painted around 1878-79. Manet is invariably celebrated as an Impressionist artist, but in his self-portrait the play of light resembles the chiaroscuro of Old Masters and his searching eyes, lost in introspective interrogation, go back to the age of Rembrandt. Even the dark backdrop ties in with the centuries-old conventions of European portraiture. Manet’s masterpiece owes as much to the past as to the avant-garde of his time, and this did not help. Add one unfortunate flaw: The left hand is a mess. Manet was apparently in the process of reworking the entire arm when he stopped and never bothered to return to a canvas that was not intended for sale.

Nothing is more difficult than putting a price on a picture that is admirable but has weaknesses. Sotheby’s estimate for Manet’s self-portrait was £20 million to £30 million ($30.3-45.4 million). It sold on a single telephone bid for £22.4 million ($33 million), just past the lower end of the estimate. Too little? About right? Or perhaps too much? Impossible to tell. In such a case, the right price is determined by finding out first how much your bank account allows you to pay and secondly how desperately you want the work. No objective data could be cited. Nothing remotely comparable had been seen since that same portrait was auctioned back on May 12, 1997, when it made $18.7 million at Christie’s New York. But that was at a time when the market had more to offer in quantity as well as in quality. The lesson to be drawn from its latest auction appearance is that when pushing prices to the utmost, changing tastes should be taken into account. Today, the penetrating psychological insight of the portrait counts for much less than in the 1990s. What buyers want now is art with an instant punch.

Hence, the contrasting performance of the second picture that stood out at Sotheby’s.

André Derain painted "Arbres à Collioure" in the summer of 1905, at the height of his Fauve phase. The Mediterranean seaside view displays all the characteristics of Fauvism. Strong primary colors are applied in juxtaposed touches that do not overlap. The extreme simplification of detail reduces the visible world to a coloristic pattern without volume or atmospheric effect. Somehow, though, the landscape lacks the vibrancy of Derain’s greatest Fauve works. A decade ago, this would have diminished its appeal. But not now. "Arbres à Collioure," estimated to be worth £9 million to £14 million ($13.7-21.2 million) sailed to a dumbfounding world record £16.28 million ($24 million). The painter’s name and the iconic character of the picture did it. That it does not compare with Derain’s masterpieces was irrelevant this year, partly because those masterpieces have not been seen at auction for too long and partly because now stylistic category matters as much as intrinsic merit.

The third most important picture in chronological order was Pierre Bonnards "Le petit déjeuner, radiateur," as Sotheby’s catalogue entry calls it in ungrammatical French. The interior view of the artist’s house with his wife, Marthe, in the foreground was painted around 1930. Like most of Bonnard’s oeuvre, it stands apart from the other strands of avant-garde art of his time. The figural style, in the hazy manner of Impressionism, contrasts abruptly with its modernist composition.

The domestic scene, which is one of Bonnard’s most accomplished works, is a painting for connoisseurs. On the other hand, it suffers from a slight commercial handicap. The stamped signature was supplied by the artist’s estate and neither boards of trustees nor investors like that. All things considered, Sotheby’s plausibly reckoned that the Bonnard might be knocked down between £2.5 million and £3.5 million ($3.6 million-5 million). Against the odds, the picture ascended to £6.2 million ($9.1 million). Once more, an auction record was set, confounding predictions.

It was not just in the world-record category that forecasts turned out to be unreliable.

If Sotheby’s was very optimistic about Manet’s self-portrait, its experts were too conservative about a still life that he painted in 1882. "Bouquet de pivoines," thought to be worth £4 million to £6 million ($4.6-7 million), realized £7.65 million ($11.3 million) including the sale charge. It had sold for just $4.4 million at Sotheby’s New York on November 13, 1990, but that was the darkest moment of the market crash that year. Add that flowers of all styles tend to be well received and when they are as beautiful as they are in Manet’s masterpiece, they rarely fail to arouse attention.

Yet, as if to demonstrate how utterly unpredictable prices have become, another remarkable still life by a famous artist failed to make the grade. Emil Noldes "Sonnenblume" ("Sunflower"), 1928, borders on abstraction except for one large blossom emerging from a mass of rolling smoke-like mist. Nolde’s pre-World War II oeuvre, much of which was destroyed by the Nazi regime, has become extremely rare on the market. This picture retains the explosive energy of the artist’s first Expressionist phase which preceded the First World War. With an estimate set at only £800,000 to £1.2 million ($1.2-1.7 million), it should have sold without difficulty — back in February of 2006, the still life had brought £1.07 million ($1.1 million) at Sotheby’s London. But this year it inexplicably failed to elicit interest and remained unsold.

If Sotheby’s experienced problems in predicting the performance of its finest Impressionist and modern works of art, Christie’s was in for much nastier surprises the day after.

To be fair, the house hit the bull’s-eye with the three opening lots, which was remarkable enough given their diversity in style and quality.

Edouard Vuillards "La couture," 1893, a small sketch on paper laid down on board, which portrays a young woman sewing, is advanced for its time. Done in bold, broad touches the superb study sold for £217,650 ($322,000), close to the middle estimate. Next came Renoirs painting of a reclining nude "Nu couché (Odalisque couchée)." This is one of many oil studies of a female figure sketchily painted by the artist in his later years when his model was his housemaid, Gabrielle. The mediocre nude sold for £791,250 ($1.2 million), just over the middle estimate.

The third lot, Paul Signacs "Les Andelys, matin, été," 1923, likewise fared as expected by Christie’s. The riverside landscape is handled in the Pointillist manner that Signac and Georges Seurat had devised four decades earlier, but with much larger touches of color. The technique is not enough to conceal the lack of originality of the composition, which could be that of a picture postcard. Valuing an indifferent work from a school no longer much in favor is particularly tricky, but Christie’s got it right. The Signac ended its course at £1 million ($1.5 million), within the estimated price bracket.

And then things started going haywire, with prices dancing like a yo-yo out of control.

Who could have imagined that Henry Moores small bronze "Maquette for King and Queen" might realize more than twice its high estimate and climb to £1.72 million ($2.55 million)? Only 10 ¾ inches high, including the rectangular frame, it is one of 10 casts executed in 1952. True, prices for Moore bronzes have been surging lately and Christie’s may have underestimated the glamorizing effect of the name of Nelson A. Rockefeller that was attached to the work. The maquette was part of the millionaire’s 20th-century art collection and was exhibited at the Museum of Modern Art in 1969. Newcomers to the market, unsure of what should be seen as "important," love this kind of exalted provenance.

Two lots down, Rodins "L’âge d’airain" also doubled expectations. The strictly naturalistic life-size figure of a man standing in the nude fetched £3.4 million ($5 million), an astonishing score given the current preference for Expressionist figuration or abstraction.

Within minutes, surprises began going the other way. Several failures and near failures defeated predictions.

The star lot sold, but only just, despite the most sought-after signature in the world, that of Picasso. His portrait of Angel Fernández de Soto from 1903 had been hyped to death by the media. Perhaps this was counterproductive. By the time this strictly figural likeness that continues a long European tradition came on the block, everything had been said about it. You almost felt that the event had already taken place.

Christie’s estimated Picasso’s portrait of his friend to be worth £30 million to £40 million ($46-60 million). The catalogue pointedly reminded potential buyers that in 2000, another Blue Period work, "Femme aux bras croisés," 1902, had realized $55 million at Christie’s. But as Jussi Pylkkänen, chairman of Christie’s international department of Impressionist and modern art, started calling out bids, the audience sat in deadly silence. After a long pause, one bid came over the phone and the auctioneer hastily brought down his hammer. The picture cost the lone bidder £34.76 million ($51.6 million), easily 20 percent less, if measured in buying power, than the $55 million paid for the other Picasso 10 years ago.

The worst was to come. "Nymphéas," signed by Monet in 1906, is one of a series of 30 or so views of water lilies painted by the master over a period of 20 years. The finest rank among the masterpieces of 20th-century Western art. Unfortunately, in the Christie’s picture, the mist rising from the water looks too much like a damaged patch diluting the color. Neither Monet’s name nor the many exhibitions in which the picture appeared over time, including "Monet: The Water Lilies Cycle" held at the Musée de l’Orangerie in Paris in 1999, were enough to make up for the visual handicap. Christie’s had estimated this "Nymphéas" at £30 million to £40 million ($45-60 million). It crashed unsold.

A second celebrated name likewise failed to do the trick immediately after. "Vase de fleurs," a still life of flowers (in a pitcher, not a vase) painted by Picasso in 1904, is skillfully done. The only problem is that it does not look remotely like a Picasso. It could have been done in the 1870s. When the picture appeared at Christie’s New York on May 15, 1985, it brought a modest $1.2 million. At Christie’s back on November 3, 2004, it failed to find a taker at $2.8 million and was bought back by its consigner after the sale at a price probably close to the low estimate. Speculators, beware of publicly rejected works! This year no one was prepared to pick up the tab.

Shortly after the Monet debacle, a failure involving an equally famous name was narrowly avoided. "Parc de l’hôpital Saint-Paul," painted by Van Gogh in October 1889, has the Van Gogh look all right. While the view dates from a period when the artist created some of his greatest masterpieces, this is not one of them. Too much white comes through the painted surface and the swaying lines tremble weakly, without the vibrancy they have in other compositions. The landscape sold under the low estimate for £9 million ($13.4 million) including the buyer’s premium. Christie’s apparently overestimated the combined effect that a great name and extreme rarity can have on a work that is decidedly underwhelming.

On the other hand, even supreme achievements by towering figures of Western art cannot be saved if their nuances are too subtle and the mood too subdued. One of the real gems in the Christie’s sale was a landscape painted in the late 1850s by Corot. An Italian countrywoman stands in the foreground, eyes cast down wistfully in the dark atmosphere of a stormy autumn day. The estimate for "Jeune fille à la jupe rouge et jaune" was only £300,000 to £400,000 ($460,000-600,000). It once belonged to the Fauve master Derain, and this is no mean compliment. But in June, no one took any notice of the marvelous picture.

Instant impact is a better passport to success than subtlety. It propels some works to a level that specialists find as difficult to anticipate as the failure of a great Corot.

Take Max Beckmanns portrait of an Italian woman. Painted in 1946, this portrait is done in a style that could have been that of Rouault 30 or 40 years earlier. The format is too narrow and cuts awkwardly through the right side. It is as if the composition had been cropped unintentionally, following an accident. But the face of the woman, done in contrasted black and salmon pink, leaps off the wall and accordingly the price leapt sky-high to £1.13 million ($1.7 million). At Sotheby’s London sale of February 3, 2004, the Beckmann had cost its consignor $341,600, hence Christie’s £400,000-600,000 ($728,000-1 million) estimate, which actually seemed optimistic — until the sale took place.

Predicting auction outcomes has become too hazardous for the best experts. As recently as a decade ago, not many would have placed high hopes on Gustav Klimts "Frauenbildnis" ("Portrait of Ria Munk III"). This portrait, handled in a banal vein that does not rise above the level of period kitsch, was unfinished when the artist died in February 1918. On the primed ground of the canvas, the vaguely outlined standing figure is oddly filled with doodles, offering a bizarre contrast with the sweetie-pie face worthy of an illustrated fashion magazine.

The Christie’s estimate of £14-£18 million ($22-27 million) seemed to bear little connection to the real world, but it was right on. At £18.8 million ($28 million), the portrait became the second most expensive picture in the June 23 sale.

Auction house professionals sometimes remark with unconcealed satisfaction that serious investors swamp the Impressionist and modern art market. In truth, it has never felt more like a clueless gamblers’ den.

Souren Melikian is the International Editor of Art+Auction.

"Guess How Much" originally appeared in the September 2010 issue of Art+Auction. For a complete list of articles from this issue available on ARTINFO, see Art+Auctions's September 2010 Table of Contents.