AMHERST – There is a water-stained clock and an adding machine from a bygone era. There are two electric fans that don’t promise to work when plugged in. There are toys and ashtrays, glassware and porcelain knickknacks, Buddha incense holders and .45 records and more salt and pepper shakers than you can shake a stick at. There is what appears to be a Confederate $1,000 bill.
In the preview time before the action starts, would-be bidders sift through the tables full of items at Kimballs Auction and Estate Services. Many of them are dealers hoping to pick up a few things for a song and sell them for a symphony. Others are regulars who simply like sorting through the remains of other people’s lives, perhaps going home with a couple of things. All of them know unerringly where to find Kimballs on a rainy March afternoon.
As Doug Kimball explains it, he works with people who are moving, divorcing, down-sizing and dying to get rid of the stuff they no longer want or need. Sometimes he buys their whole trove and keeps whatever profit he might make. Sometimes he sells items for them one by one and takes a commission. Kimball describes himself as a full-service auctioneer, which is perhaps why he has survived in a dying business. For some of his colleagues, he said, the Internet has made the trade prohibitive.
Last month, George T. Lewis of Williamsburg held his last auction at Smith Vocational and Agricultural High School, putting an end to his 37 years as an auctioneer. Lewis cited several factors that have changed the landscape for estate auctioneers, notable among them the Internet.
“That’s the dominant factor,” he said during an interview at his 18th century hilltown home. “In the 1980s we had it good and didn’t know it.”
Whereas estate auctions used to be folksy affairs attended by bidders who ranged from the curious to the astute, they are now often online events at which well-informed people can bid electronically or by proxy as well as in person. Some of these bidders are professionals who want as much information as possible, obligating the auctioneer to photograph and post every item on the Internet, along with its measurements and an estimate.
“The cost-versus-return is greater now than before,” Lewis said. “We have to reach further and further. There are fewer people willing to give you four to seven hours to sit and wait for one or two items they’re interested in.”
Lewis differs from Kimball in that he cherry-picks a handful of things from an estate rather than taking on the whole load. Mostly, he is looking for antiques and other items of value that will sell for three figures and higher. Over the years, he has been assisted in this by his daughter and a small but loyal staff. As he turned 69, Lewis decided that effort was no longer worth the return.
Still, he gets choked up at times recalling his adventures in auctioneering. A native of Pennsylvania, Lewis derived his fascination for antiques from his mother.
“I always enjoyed auctions,” he said. “They can be very exciting.”
He found he also liked the rural atmosphere of Western Massachusetts. His house was built around the time of the American Revolution. Lewis has lived in it for 34 years. During that time he has browsed through more estates than he can recall. Although he remembers finds like the South Hadley Village Hotel sign, Lewis has bought and sold too many things to remember. He goes to other peoples’ auctions in his free time, maybe once a week.
Lewis said he had a good turnout for his last auction at Smith.
“I was very gratified,” he said. “People I hadn’t seen in years came just to say goodbye.”
But the demands of the Internet made Lewis reassess his trade.
“I don’t mind (the extra work) for four or five figures,” he said, “but not for a few hundred.”
Lewis is not getting out of the business entirely, however. He plans to work for Cobb Auctioneers, a New Hampshire company, handling certain select pieces, though he has yet to work out the details of his remuneration.
At Kimballs, the weekly actions have remained low-tech. There is no one bidding by Skype or cell phone, just regulars flashing cards. Some are tight-lipped about their business. One dealer, who would give his name only as Rick, said it is getting more and more difficult to make a profit by buying at auction and selling to others.
“It used to be lucrative, but the economy’s in the toilet,” he said. “The kids coming up have no interest in antiques.”
Nancy Hamel of Belchertown, another dealer, has been at it for 40 years.
“You have to know the trends in the market,” she said, adding that mid-20th century stuff is currently hot. Hamel said she didn’t drive all the way to Kimballs in the rain to go home empty-handed.
“When I make the time and effort to get to an auction, I want to buy,” she said. “You’ve got to love it.”
Jeff Lefevere is among those regulars who come, in his words, because of two words: “treasure hunting.” His two-room apartment in Northampton is chock full of auction finds, he said, with more than 300 items on the walls alone. Occasionally, if he is very lucky, Lefevere will make some money from a find. He once discovered a platinum fork among a set of silverware he bought at a flea market for $95. He sold the fork for $1,400. Lefevere, incidentally, was among the crowd at George Lewis’ final auction.
The bidding at Kimballs starts at 6 p.m. sharp and proceeds at a brisk pace. A piano stool goes for $35, a wire rack for $15. A parade of young employees in maroon Kimball shirts hold the items up for view as Kimball auctions them off. The high end item in the early going is an Oriental rug that sells for $220. The pair of electric fans finds a buyer for $30. The water-stained clock goes to the winning bidder for $20.
Source: www.masslive.com
In the preview time before the action starts, would-be bidders sift through the tables full of items at Kimballs Auction and Estate Services. Many of them are dealers hoping to pick up a few things for a song and sell them for a symphony. Others are regulars who simply like sorting through the remains of other people’s lives, perhaps going home with a couple of things. All of them know unerringly where to find Kimballs on a rainy March afternoon.
As Doug Kimball explains it, he works with people who are moving, divorcing, down-sizing and dying to get rid of the stuff they no longer want or need. Sometimes he buys their whole trove and keeps whatever profit he might make. Sometimes he sells items for them one by one and takes a commission. Kimball describes himself as a full-service auctioneer, which is perhaps why he has survived in a dying business. For some of his colleagues, he said, the Internet has made the trade prohibitive.
Last month, George T. Lewis of Williamsburg held his last auction at Smith Vocational and Agricultural High School, putting an end to his 37 years as an auctioneer. Lewis cited several factors that have changed the landscape for estate auctioneers, notable among them the Internet.
“That’s the dominant factor,” he said during an interview at his 18th century hilltown home. “In the 1980s we had it good and didn’t know it.”
Whereas estate auctions used to be folksy affairs attended by bidders who ranged from the curious to the astute, they are now often online events at which well-informed people can bid electronically or by proxy as well as in person. Some of these bidders are professionals who want as much information as possible, obligating the auctioneer to photograph and post every item on the Internet, along with its measurements and an estimate.
“The cost-versus-return is greater now than before,” Lewis said. “We have to reach further and further. There are fewer people willing to give you four to seven hours to sit and wait for one or two items they’re interested in.”
Lewis differs from Kimball in that he cherry-picks a handful of things from an estate rather than taking on the whole load. Mostly, he is looking for antiques and other items of value that will sell for three figures and higher. Over the years, he has been assisted in this by his daughter and a small but loyal staff. As he turned 69, Lewis decided that effort was no longer worth the return.
Still, he gets choked up at times recalling his adventures in auctioneering. A native of Pennsylvania, Lewis derived his fascination for antiques from his mother.
“I always enjoyed auctions,” he said. “They can be very exciting.”
He found he also liked the rural atmosphere of Western Massachusetts. His house was built around the time of the American Revolution. Lewis has lived in it for 34 years. During that time he has browsed through more estates than he can recall. Although he remembers finds like the South Hadley Village Hotel sign, Lewis has bought and sold too many things to remember. He goes to other peoples’ auctions in his free time, maybe once a week.
Lewis said he had a good turnout for his last auction at Smith.
“I was very gratified,” he said. “People I hadn’t seen in years came just to say goodbye.”
But the demands of the Internet made Lewis reassess his trade.
“I don’t mind (the extra work) for four or five figures,” he said, “but not for a few hundred.”
Lewis is not getting out of the business entirely, however. He plans to work for Cobb Auctioneers, a New Hampshire company, handling certain select pieces, though he has yet to work out the details of his remuneration.
At Kimballs, the weekly actions have remained low-tech. There is no one bidding by Skype or cell phone, just regulars flashing cards. Some are tight-lipped about their business. One dealer, who would give his name only as Rick, said it is getting more and more difficult to make a profit by buying at auction and selling to others.
“It used to be lucrative, but the economy’s in the toilet,” he said. “The kids coming up have no interest in antiques.”
Nancy Hamel of Belchertown, another dealer, has been at it for 40 years.
“You have to know the trends in the market,” she said, adding that mid-20th century stuff is currently hot. Hamel said she didn’t drive all the way to Kimballs in the rain to go home empty-handed.
“When I make the time and effort to get to an auction, I want to buy,” she said. “You’ve got to love it.”
Jeff Lefevere is among those regulars who come, in his words, because of two words: “treasure hunting.” His two-room apartment in Northampton is chock full of auction finds, he said, with more than 300 items on the walls alone. Occasionally, if he is very lucky, Lefevere will make some money from a find. He once discovered a platinum fork among a set of silverware he bought at a flea market for $95. He sold the fork for $1,400. Lefevere, incidentally, was among the crowd at George Lewis’ final auction.
The bidding at Kimballs starts at 6 p.m. sharp and proceeds at a brisk pace. A piano stool goes for $35, a wire rack for $15. A parade of young employees in maroon Kimball shirts hold the items up for view as Kimball auctions them off. The high end item in the early going is an Oriental rug that sells for $220. The pair of electric fans finds a buyer for $30. The water-stained clock goes to the winning bidder for $20.
Source: www.masslive.com