(A story from M.Sz.)
My friends would know that I am fond of paintings. Until recently, when I had the means to do so, I was a regular bidder at auctions, although I never thought of myself as a collector. I would rather say that I have more paintings than an average household. At such auctions I often met a distant relative of mine – someone we don’t exactly keep up with, but once in a while he would emerge in conversation or even in person. At one point this relative called me asking if I were to attend a certain auction. He asked me to bid for a certain item for him as he could not make it to the event. Having discussed necessary details, I accepted the mission.
The day after the auction we caught up: he was very happy to learn that I had “bagged” three out of his list of four items, two of them at a really good bargain. He asked me politely if I had also acquired something myself. I proudly told him about my successful bid for a Schonberger Armand portrait. Total silence on the other end of the line… On my repeated hallo’s, he finally told me that he had actually put that portrait on the auction. Following my initial shock, I posed the question: “If you have something like this for sale, how come you don’t come to me first?? Also, how could anyone put such a treasure for sale?” He meekly replied that it had never crossed his mind that I would have been interested, and that he had sold the painting because this older guy in spectacles had been looking sternly at him from the wall ever since he was a child. He got fed up with that look by now. We agreed that although we could have saved 20% commission each, but at least it all stays withing the family…
