Lifts off at auction
plifies the artist’s fond indulgence in cheap sentiment.
“Tretchikoff is popular and collectable because his works have a strong visual identity that is usually combined with his noted sentimentality,” says Giles Peppiatt, group head of fine art at Bonhams.
“Collectors do find this highly appealing. It is also helpful that the prices achieved for the major works hold up well and that the market is strong for these paintings.
“When it comes to the three Ps of collecting — passion, profit and prestige — Tretchikoff seems to tick all the boxes.”
Lost Orchid is one of the crown jewels in Tretchi’s catalogue of sentimental errors. It has been extensively reproduced. It also comes with a cute provenance.
John Schlesinger, the young heir of IW Schlesinger’s sprawling South African business empire, was the first owner of Lost Orchid.
Now remembered as an important art collector, Johnny Schlesinger, as he was known for a while, had a reputation as a privileged wastrel around the time he acquired the work for his wife.
Time magazine in 1963 characterised Schlesinger as “a Harvard-educated playboy with plenty of hustle in a speedboat race and a keen eye for judging beauty queens”.
Tretchi loaned the painting back from Schlesinger to tour abroad. Starting in1952, Lost Orchid travelled throughout the US. At a stopover in Chicago it caught the eye of journeyman actor Mark Dawson. He made enquiries. Too expensive, he learnt and, anyway, sold.
A business artist before Andy Warhol coined the term in 1975, Tretchi bought Lost Orchid back from Schlesinger at three times the original purchase price. In 1955, he sold it to Dawson, whose descendants are now selling the work.
Tretchi painted numerous works that are a variation on a particular theme. Many painters do this.
Tretchi’s distinction lay in his habit for excavating cheap sentiment. Fallen flowers abound in his work.
FL Alexander, an important mid-century critic, was so exasperated by Tretchi that he refused to name the artist in his press writings, referring to him simply as “The Master of the Fallen Flower”.
One fallen flower should not be mistaken for another, as a curious incident from recent history reminds.
After the 2005 murder of Brett Kebble, a disgraced empowerment impresario and art collector, his vast estate was liquidated at various public auctions.
In 2009, Johannesburg dealer Graham Britz mistakenly offered a work closely resembling Lost Orchid in a much-publicised sale of Kebble’s art collection at Summer Place in Johannesburg.
Thinking it was the work once owned by Schlesinger, mining entrepreneur Anton Taljaard made the winning bid. Except it wasn’t that work. When the painting was examined against a reproduction appearing in a book, it was seen to be missing one of the dewy drops of sentiment on the orchid.
Other minor discrepancies were noted. Cue much hand-wringing and expensive research.
A year later, it was revealed that a cataloguer for Britz had ignored Tretchi’s original title, written on the back of the work. After the Party, for which Kebble had paid R16 000, had somehow become Lost Orchid. Oops. The sale was rescinded.
The provenance of Lost Orchid and After the Party highlights an enduring truth about Tretchi — he might be the people’s painter but he also appeals to the rich and powerful.
I asked Bonhams’s Peppiatt about Tretchi’s collector base.
Is it limited to wealthy South Africans or is it more geographically scattered and diverse?
“The collectors for the major works by Tretchikoff come from across the globe,” replies Peppiatt.
“This is the important distinction as it is only the finest works that attract international buyers.”
He offers Chinese Girl, a portrait of Sea Point, Cape Town, resident Monika Sing-lee, as an example.
When it went on sale in London in 2013, says Peppiatt, many non-south African bidders chased after it. British gem dealer Laurence Graff came out the winner.
Chinese Girl was shortly unveiled at the Delaire Graff Estate in Stellenbosch.
Tretchi’s work Fruits of Bali (1960), which was sold for R4.7 million in London in 2019, was purchased by an international collector with no link to South Africa.
“So, there are two distinct markets: the lesser works that generally appeal to domestic South African buyers and the major works that have an international appeal,” Peppiatt says.
The enduring appeal of Tretchi’s major paintings suggests that this merchant of kitsch is ultimately enjoying the last laugh.
But for Irma Stern, and possibly Gerard Sekoto, whose works occasionally appear on international auctions, no South African modernists have made the jump from national hero to internationally collectable artist.
I always thought the essential question to ask of Tretchi was, “How can such mediocrity sell?” Time to eat humble pie.
The question circa 2024 is this, “How much more runway is there left for such mediocrity?” By some accounts,a great deal.
Auctions later this month will reveal more.