In 1953 I was rebuilding my first house in London’s Fulham Road from one that had been bombed in the war. At the same time I was at art school and teaching myself to paint and
selling landscapes.
As the house was right next to Chelsea Football Grounds, a pet subject was the ground itself, and in particular what is known by Chelsea supporters as “The Shed End”.
I would set up my easel on a spectator’s gravel bank and paint away.
I painted on canvas stuck to board, mariflayed previously by me using tailors’ canvas, hardboard, animal glue and very hot water. The size that I favoured was 2 foot by 4 foot.
One of the finished canvasses was entitled “Neighbours on Saturdays” as Chelsea then only played on their home ground on Saturdays.
Those football days were a bit on the rough side, hemming me in and sometimes with my garden used as a urinal. But no-one seemed to mind an artist in their midst.
“Neighbours on Saturdays” was exhibited at the Daily Express Young Artists Exhibition and failed to sell. Still framed, it was stacked away and forgotten.
Years later, Margreet’s niece became engaged to be married and, although the groom was an Arsenal supporter, we decided to give the painting to them as a wedding present. The engagement was broken off and the painting hung on the studio wall in Hammersmith.
It so happened that a man from Christie’s auction rooms came to look at my work and asked if he could sell “Neighbours on Saturdays”. I agreed.
We decided that the title should be changed to “The Shed End”, that being more readily in the minds of supporters. And we agreed on a reserve of £1500. He took it away.
I went along to Christie’s Brompton Road salesroom on a viewing day to see where it had been hung. I can’t say that I was ecstatic as it was placed on a wall rather low down. I would rather have seen it at eye level.
I was then contacted by a potential buyer who told me that he was pretty sure to obtain it as he was willing to go up to £5,000. He wanted to make prints of it and, for a fee, would I be prepared to sign them. We left it at that.
Somehow I heard that there was other interest in the painting and that it might even fetch a good price.
On the day of the sale I took a plush seat toward the back of a good crowd of art buyers. The auctioneer was a lady who was quite obviously very professional.
When it came to my turn, she said that this work was by Jim Page-Roberts and that there was considerable interest in it. My heart beat increased.
“I will start at a thousand”. Up went quite a few hands.
In no time bidding had reached £5,000, then £10,000. Bidders started to drop out.
Bidding continued until some £20,000 was offered. Soon only two bidders remained in contention. One, we heard later was the Chelsea owner’s agent and the other a lady who wanted to give it to her Chelsea-supporting husband as a Christmas present.
Bidding continued as the lady kept her hand aloft.
Finally Abramowitz’s agent realised he would never obtain it and dropped out at £27,000. There was applause.
Christie’s quote hammer prices combined with their buyer’s premium. So the “Shed End” had sold for £33,600, the “Top Lot”.
At that time, fellow RAF pilots who trained to fly with me in Oklahoma, USA, got together with wives and children once a year. At one such meeting word had reached them about my auction success.
“What will you do with the money” ? I was asked.
Without much aforethought I replied that I would now buy large potatoes as they were more expensive than smaller ones, but much easier to peel. They thought it was hilarious.
I buy potatoes nowadays and find that the smaller ones are easier to peel.
As for the fellow pilots (several of whom went to America on a freebee as “Heroes”), I imagine that they have now all flown high into the blue and are no longer interested in potatoes large or small.
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