Maybe I'm Amazed

If you grew up in the 1950s, ’60s, or ’70s, then the popular music of those days is likely near and dear to your heart. Elvis Presley and the Beatles and the Beach Boys and Bob Dylan and the Byrds and so many others from the era created the soundtrack to countless lives.

In the “makes you feel old” department, it’s strange to consider how long ago rock’n’roll began. It was more than 50 years ago that the likes of Elvis, Buddy Holly, and Chuck Berry were jolting the music scene. It’s been a full 45 years since John, Paul, George, and Ringo set off “the British Invasion” and produced their own seismic effect on pop culture.


Isn’t it amazing to consider how highly we value old-time rock’n’roll? Baby boomers not only are still listening (as proven by recent hot-selling hits compilations from the Beatles, Elvis, and the Beach Boys), but they’re spending huge sums on related memorabilia.

Actually, it’s not so amazing that something like an Elvis jumpsuit—complete with a cape featuring gold lining—would sell for $212,600, as it did at GottaHaveIt.com on March 26. After all, The King performed in the blue jumpsuit at Madison Square Garden on June 10, 1972. He’s also shown wearing it on the cover of his album Elvis: An Afternoon in the Garden.

It is amazing, though, that otherwise normal pieces can draw healthy sums if they’re related to our pop music icons. Example: The same GottaHaveIt.com sale featuring the jumpsuit also offered an average shirt with a connection to an Elvis film. It’s “a firm possibility,” according to the item’s catalog listing, “that Elvis wore this shirt for the filming of his 1957 [movie] Jailhouse Rock.” The “possibility” was firm enough to attract a winning bid of $4,150.


Beatles memorabilia inspires a similar passion. Early recordings on vinyl—if in top condition—can sell for hundreds and even thousands of dollars. Example: A first stereo pressing of the 1963 album Please Please Me, issued by Parlophone with a black and gold label, sold for $25,575 on 39 bids at eBay in April.

Even unsigned photographs, if rare and vintage, can bring surprising prices—like the $835 paid for a 1960/61 portrait of the Beatles with Pete Best, rather than Ringo, as drummer. In fact, there’s a relatively rich supply of Beatles collectibles in general, and there never seems to be a shortage of bidders.

“It’s Only Rock’n’Roll,” the Rolling Stones once snarled. But maybe they were wrong. Music and music memorabilia do what the best collectible items do: They take us back in time. And what a trip!

The Mighty Bambino

A wonderfully innocent photograph of Babe Ruth signing autographs turned up at a recent Heritage Galleries auction. The image finds the Sultan of Swat surrounded by players from two women’s softball teams, the Roverettes and Americanettes, and freezes in time a moment that defines Ruth’s popularity. It also proves that there are some appealing Ruth-related mementos that can be had for bargain prices: It sold for $75.


More than a dozen other vintage Ruth photos—all from the Culver Pictures Archive—also sold for prices between $60 and $150. But don’t get the idea that Ruth memorabilia is cold. No, there’s always demand among sports collectors for anything Ruth-related. The Culver pictures weren’t autographed, and unsigned photos happen to be one area in the realm of Babe Ruth memorabilia that’s affordable.

If an authentic Ruth signature is involved, prices skyrocket. A pair of autographed Ruth photos in the same Heritage sale, for example, sold for $4,500 each (see below). And Ruth single-signed baseballs, of course, remain a true prize in the sports memorabilia market. They can sell for as little as a few thousand dollars to more than $60,000, depending on the condition of the ball and the appearance of the autograph.


Consider another item in the aforementioned Heritage sale. A mid-1920s Ruth-signed ball sold for $3,110, its value affected by stains on the ball and, more important, by a signature that looked to be faded over time. You could tell it was a Ruth autograph, but it appeared to have spent some time exposed to sunlight.

On the other hand, in the past four years, Heritage has sold 10 Ruth-signed baseballs for prices between $20,000 and $51,000. The top-priced example, from a 2008 auction, was a c. 1947 ball (Ruth died in 1948 at age 53) graded at Near-Mint/Mint+ by a leading autograph authentication service, PSA/DNA. In 2004, an equally clean example of a Ruth-signed baseball sold for $63,250 in a joint sale by Sotheby’s and SCP Auctions. More recently, in a March 2009 sale, SCP Auctions sold seven Ruth single-signed balls, fetching prices between $2,800 and $14,800.

Believe it or not, Ruth baseball cards can sell for even more than an autographed ball. A high-grade (Near-Mint/Mint+) 1933 Goudey card of Ruth sold for $89,625 last year, for example. And we haven’t even touched on the “high end” of the Ruth market.... In recent years, a 1930s uniform Ruth wore brought $658,000. A ball that Babe hit into the bleachers at the 1933 All-Star Game fetched $805,000. Ruth-used bats have sold well into six-figure prices. And in 2005, Sotheby’s reeled in $996,000 for the 1919 contract sending Ruth from the Red Sox to the Yankees.

During the past decade, we’ve seen the reputations of all kinds of contemporary stars sullied by their use (or suspected use) of performance-enhancing steroids. As a result, the market for players once considered to be future Hall of Fame “locks”—from Mark McGwire and Barry Bonds to Roger Clemens and Alex Rodriguez—has become chilly, if not cold. Then there’s The Bambino: His stats actually start looking even better—and serious collectors keep reaching deeper to buy their own piece of a baseball icon.

There are still deals to be had when it comes to Babe Ruth memorabilia. The charmer of a photo pictured above, for example, sold for a mere $75. And the signed photos above each brought $4,500. On the other hand, a top-condition Babe-signed baseball can be pricey; the one pictured here fetched $51,000 in May 2008. [All photos courtesy of Heritage Galleries.]

Antiques Roadshow: The Tour Ahead

As I write this, we’re in the middle of a January cold spell in New England, so I certainly don’t mind looking ahead to summer. And Antiques Roadshow has given me a good reason to do so: The program’s producers have announced the summer 2009 tour. As always, it presents a nice zig-zag pattern across the U.S., starting in Atlantic City on June 6 and ending in San Jose on Aug. 15. In between, Antiques Roadshow will roll into Raleigh, N.C. (June 27); visit Madison, Wisc., for the first time since 2000 (July 11); take in the “mile high” air of Denver, Col. (July 25); and set up camp in Phoenix, Ariz.

The summer tour taping will make up Antiques Roadshow’s 14th season on PBS, airing in 2010.

So how can you get into a show? Admission is free, but tickets are required. You can put your name in the hat by visiting the show's Web site (www.pbs.org/antiques) and clicking on the line “Apply for Tickets Now.” Applicants are selected at random; each name chosen will receive two tickets. Each ticket holder can bring two items for, as they say, a free “verbal evaluation.” For a complete list of rules, call 888-762-3749.

You can also apply for tickets via the U.S. mail. Just send a postcard to: “City Name” Roadshow (e.g., Raleigh Roadshow), Box 249, Canton, MA 02021. In addition, Antiques Roadshow is looking for large pieces of furniture within 50 miles of each tour destination. Furniture submission rules are available online or by calling the number above.

Hope to see you this summer!

P.S.: Antiques Roadshow’s 2009 broadcast season kicked off on Jan. 5 with the first of three programs taped in Palm Springs, Calif. Here’s how the rest of the season shapes up (check local listings for exact times):
Jan. 26: Dallas, Hour 1
Feb. 2: Dallas, Hour 2
Feb. 9: Dallas, Hour 3
Feb. 16: Wichita, Hour 1
Feb. 23: Wichita, Hour 2
March 2: Honolulu, Hour 1*
March 9: Honolulu, Hour 2*
March 16: Honolulu, Hour 3*
March 23: Wichita, Hour 3
March 30: Chattanooga, Hour 1
April 6: Chattanooga, Hour 2
April 13: Chattanooga, Hour 3
April 20: Grand Rapids, Hour 1
April 27: Grand Rapids: Hour 2
May 4: Grand Rapids, Hour 3
May 11: Hartford, Hour 1
May 18: Hartford, Hour 2
May 25: Hartford, Hour 3
* Encore presentation, 2007 season.

Faces of the Past

I love photographs and photography, as I've mentioned in Antiques Roadshow Insider time and again (and again). Heck, I must take a few hundred images a month. Most of the time, the subject is one or both of my daughters, whose amazingly rapid growth has been fairly well-documented, to put it mildly.

So naturally, I took an extra-special interest interest in a feature we published a few months back on daguerreotypes. They're amazing little windows into the past—one-of-a-kind "silver sunbeams," as Dennis Waters of Fine Dags in Exeter, N.H., calls them.

The word daguerreotype comes from Louis-Jacques-Mandé Daguerre (French, 1787–1851), who developed this first form of commercially viable photography in the 1830s. The format remained popular until around 1860, although the usage of dags began to wane around 1856 (ambrotypes, tintypes, and albumen technology provided competition).


DAG-MAKING
To create a daguerreotype, a photographer would expose an image directly onto a silver-covered copper plate without using a negative. The silver surface has a mirror-like shine, which is why some folks refer to the daguerreotype as “a mirror with a memory.” Because of their fragile nature, dags usually were placed into a special viewing case—hence the phrase “cased daguerreotype.”

Today, of course, point-and-shoot digital cameras make photography simple. Within a few minutes, we can snap off dozens (even hundreds) of pictures, edit out the bad ones, and transfer the keepers to a computer hard drive. A few minutes later, we're producing high-quality prints.

Conversely, a daguerreotype portrait was a long process. The subject had to sit still for lengthy exposure times—from 20 minutes to as much as an hour or so. It had at be somewhat tortuous. When you stare into the eyes of countless mid-19th-century Americans as captured in daguerreotypes, you can't help but think about what an ordeal a “photo shoot” in the 1850s must have been like—how much patience one image required. All it took to ruin a sitting was a sneeze, a slight move of the head, or a squirming kid. In fact, you'll often see part of a mother's arm or dress visible in a daguerreotype as she tried to hold her child still. Some photographers even used iron head restraints for kids—and adults.

In my research, I stumbled across several daguerreotypes of dads with their young daughters, and they have a real poignancy about them. The dads look exceedingly proud of their young ’uns as they pose in front of those newfangled box cameras; the young girls look bored and anxious to break free from the long sitting. You can’t look at images of the people of the 1800s without being transported to that hard-working, innocent, black-and-white era.

TAKE A LOOK
While our feature on daguerreotypes was in production, I took time out to attend the Boston Area Photo Show. Waters was on hand, exhibiting his “fine dags” and joking around with his regular customers. He’s truly a fountain of information. He’s also an impassioned champion of dags. “Finally, they’re being looked upon as art," he said. "Kicking and screaming, they’re being dragged into the lower echelon of the art world.”

If you walk into a show featuring a room full of tables holding dags, “art” isn’t the first word that comes to mind. The bulk of the dags are small (most common size: a "sixth plate," measuring 2¾ x 3¼ inches), and most are sitting inside display cases. When you view them, you need a good light source in order to catch the image just right.

But once you do zero in on the image, there’s no doubt that those early “daguerreotypists,” when they posed average folks in the standard garb of the day, were indeed creating art—and making a lasting impression.

As for collecting daguerreotypes, it can be an affordable pursuit. You can spend as little as $50 or upwards of $1,000, according to Waters. For $100 or less, says Mike Medhurst of Medhurst & Co., you can find a "ninth plate."

Daguerreotype sizes range from "whole plate" (6 1/2 inches x 8 1/2 inches) down to "sixteenth plate" (1 3/8 x 1 5/8) sizes. As always, go for quality, not quantity. View as many examples as you can on the Internet (see below*), at auctions, in books, and at photograph shows, and find ones that connect with you, whether the subject is a person, animal, solder, or equipment.

* In digging around for examples of daguerreotypes, try visiting these sites:
www.finedags.com
www.mikemedhurst.com
www.stereographica.com
www.cowanauctions.com
www.swanngalleries.com

The One That Got Away

Have you ever had your eyes on a prize---an antique or collectible you really wanted---and then let it get away? Of course you have. You're only human (right?). The disappointment you felt is part of every collector's learning experience, whether you buy five-figure paintings or $5 postcards.

Years ago, I let something get away that I still regret. It was shortly after I first registered at eBay, back when I didn't yet know the site's ins and outs. I was searching for game-used baseball bats---not so much for a big-money rarity used by Mickey Mantle or Willie Mays, which can sell for thousands. No, I was looking for game-used bats from "common" (read: inexpensive) players---ones I watched as a kid, or ones who I admired.

My search brought me to a game bat used by George Canale. Who's George Canale? Even the most rabid baseball fans probably don't know, so I'll tell you: He was a lefty-hitting first baseman who excelled in the Milwaukee Brewers' minor league system. He hit 23 homers for El Paso (Double-A) in 1988 and 18 for Denver (Triple-A) in 1989, and earned the proverbial cup of coffee in the majors. Canale got his first promotion to the big leagues late in the 1989 season. He was back in Triple-A ball for most of the 1990 and 1991 seasons but enjoyed short call-ups to the majors both seasons.

Canale's 1991 stint with the Brewers would be his last shot at the majors. He was traded to the Indians' organization in 1992, and between 1993 and 1998, he spent time in the minor league systems of the Rockies, Royals, and Pirates. He finished his minor-league career with 155 homers, 1,107 hits, and a .263 batting average. In his three major league stints, he had 12 hits (including four home runs) in 73 at-bats. He also found himself on several baseball cards; if that's not a thrill, I don't know what is.

To answer an obvious question: No, George Canale is not a relative of mine (at least I don't think so). But because we share the same last name, I thought it sure would be nice to own that bat I spotted on eBay.

It wouldn't be an expensive piece, I knew; it opened at only $9.99, and surely no one else out there would be searching for a George Canale game-used bat. I dropped in that amount for a bid, because I didn't expect any competition.

I was wrong. Somebody sneaked in at the last second and won the auction for 50 cents more than my bid. It was my first experience with a sniper.

I know, I know.... It's just a $10 piece of lumber---not a Frank Lloyd Wright spindle-backed chair or a rare piece of Rookwood pottery. Even so, losing that $10 bat at auction was painful. How painful? Well, I'm writing about it some 10 years later! And I'm still kicking myself for two reasons:

1) I should have logged in to monitor the end of the auction.

2) Failing #1, I should have at least punched in a pre-emptive bid---a high sum that would have discouraged the sniper. I looked at the winner's completed auctions and noticed he had won several other bats used by "common" players. I speculated that he didn't care who used the bats he bought, as long as it was a major leaguer. If I had bid a crazy-high figure like $50 or $100, the sniper likely would have backed off at maybe $20 (judging by his other buys).

Therein lies the moral of this story: If you see an item you want, ask yourself:
• How badly do I want it?
• How much am I willing to pay for it?
• Is it something that, if I get outbid, I can pick up later---or will I likely never see another?

Had I asked myself those questions, I would have answered them like this:
• Badly. Very badly.
• Up to $100 or so---way more than the bat's market value, but so what? (See first answer.)
• Probably not. I haven't seen a George Canale bat come up since that time.


So now, all I have left is a memory of my first sniping experience, a photograph of the bat (and not a very clean photo, as you can see), and the advice I'm passing along: If you see something you want, go for it. Set a "ceiling" price for yourself---even if it's more than the item's actual value. (How badly do you want it?) If someone outbids you, oh well---they wanted it more. But at least give yourself a fighting chance.

PS: If you have a "One That Got Away" story that still eats at you, drop me a note at ARI-Editor@comcast.net. I'd love to share it with the readers of Antiques Roadshow Insider.

No Kidding!

Ever notice that you don’t see many children at auctions and antiques shops? Me too. In the minds of some folks, a place of business that involves valuable old objects—objects whose financial worth is often contingent on condition—is no place for kids. I disagree.

I occasionally bring along my daughters, now 9 and 5, when I go to antiques shops and malls for “research.” I’ve even brought them to auction previews at Skinner in Bolton, Mass. Most people smile when they see the girls browsing with me, but I do get the occasional furrowed brow that sends the message, “What are they doing here?”

Don’t worry: I always prime them before walking in: “No running around, and be careful where you walk, and don’t touch anything unless I say it’s okay.” And sure enough, the girls are well behaved—they understand that the items at an auction house or antiques shop (or a yard sale, for that matter) should be treated with respect.

Of course, kids’ instincts when they see unusual objects is to touch, feel, hold, and play. To help the girls fight the urge, I enlist them as photographers; as we browse a shop or showroom, they’ll take turns capturing interesting items with a point-and-shoot digital camera.

One of the images 5-year-old Karsyn recently took sticks out in my mind. On her own accord, she photographed the upper shelf in a glass case of vintage dolls and teddy bears. Technically, the photo needed more light and tighter focus, but... I love it for the angle: Karsyn’s li’l vantage point (she’s 3 feet, 8 inches) resulted in a priceless view of a Kestner bisque “Googlie” character doll. The Kestner that caught her eye is propped way, way up there—so far out of her reach that it might as well be in another country.

Alas, I didn’t end up bidding on the doll (it sold for $4,113), but the girls realize from our antiquing travels that we can’t buy everything that catches our eye. Hey, just looking and learning about things people owned in “the olden days” can be fun, don’t you think? For Quinlyn and Karsyn, “Kestner” or “Steiff” may not have the appeal of the latest Bratz doll, but they do understand that those are names to know in the world of antiques.

So the next time you head out to an auction or an antiques shop, bring along a child. His or her interest in your interests will make it even more fun.

Pictured above: a 5-year-old’s view of a top-shelf Kestner amidst other antique teddy bears and dolls. (Photo by Karsyn Canale)

That Awful Day

In traveling to Antiques Roadshow events around the nation every summer, I always try to schedule an extra day to take in the sights and sounds of a city --- a museum, or a hoppin’ section of town, or a baseball game in the city’s stadium, or a historical site. In Dallas in June 2008, my top destination involved the latter: I wanted to visit Dealey Plaza, the site of President John F. Kennedy’s assassination.

I wasn’t quite 4 at the time of the JFK tragedy, but my folks have always been admirers of the popular president. Over the years, I’ve enjoyed hearing their take on the Kennedy years. And as legions of people have, I’ve read reams of printed material and watched hours of documentaries about the “Camelot” years. So visiting the site where it all came crashing down was intriguing to me.

If you know Dealey Plaza only by grainy footage and black-and-white photographs, you likely have a feel for what it looks like --- especially the view from the “grassy knoll” area, where Abe Zapruder happened to capture the assassination on film. But there’s nothing like actually setting foot on that soil, walking up Elm Street, and looking up at the Texas School Book Depository. The building from which the assassin, Lee Harvey Oswald (or one of the assassins, if you’re a conspiracy theorist), fired his shots is now the Dallas County Administration Building. The sixth floor of the structure is a museum that encapsulates JFK’s life and death in narrative, photographs, films, and memorabilia.

As you survey the area, you can’t help but picture the images you’ve seen from Nov. 22, 1963. Look hard enough and you can almost see Kennedy’s motorcade driving by the Book Depository, and then curling toward the grassy knoll, with rows of onlookers lining the sides of the street on that sunny, innocent day. And then you can only imagine those shots ringing out....


At one point on the morning I was visiting, a siren suddenly went off and an ambulance came speeding down the street. The shrill sound and the hurried pace of the vehicle got my heart beating a little faster.

At another point, I climbed atop the concrete retainer wall upon which Zapruder stood to shoot his footage. You can see instantly why he chose the spot: It gave him a great view up Elm Street so he could capture the motorcade approaching. Instead, he found himself filming a shocking 25-second span that still haunts America.

Standing on the Zapruder wall, I got a good look at two eerie symbols: a pair of white Xs painted onto the Elm Street pavement to mark the location of Kennedy’s limousine when he was struck. A few feet away from the Xs, embedded at the edge of the knoll, is a small National Park Service plaque. The stark notation, oddly, doesn’t mention the president: It reads, “This site possesses national significance in commemorating the history of the United States of America.”

Later, after touring The Sixth Floor Museum, I walked back to my hotel feeling, honestly, quite depressed. Then I thought about something I saw at Antiques Roadshow the day before: a wonderful 1960 JFK campaign poster reading “A Time for Greatness.” (Appraiser Rudy Franchi was impressed with the poster, noting that its retail value is $6,000–$8,000.) The image of a young JFK as presidential candidate serves as a visual reminder of a more hopeful time. So for me, that large, colorful poster is a far better way to connect JFK to Dallas. The grassy knoll, on the other hand, just feels like an awful place, made so by an awful act on an awful day.