Paul's Keen on selling

By [rsmith] jojo

WE are living in strange times: the credit crunch and financial meltdown; nobody's job is safe, and there's no guarantee that the money in your bank will still be there in the morning.

For this reason I thought I'd take a sideways glance at culture this week. Not focusing on the makers of art, but the seller: Plymouth's most prestigious auctioneer, 41-year-old Mr Paul Keen, (pictured).

The Plymouth Auction Rooms, set up by Paul and his wife, Sharon, 17 years ago, is in the Faraday Mill Trade Park. He's an affable chap who clearly delights in his profession and speaks eloquently about what is involved.

The Rooms evolved from being a general auction house selling things like cookers and beds into a more selective establishment with monthly antique sales and quarterly art and collectable sales. So if you have a painting that you want to turn into cash here's what you do: give Paul a ring on 01752 254740 and arrange for him to take a peek, either at your place or his. Once he has given his opinion on what your picture is likely to fetch at auction and you have said "yes", the work is included in the next sale.

Paul works his magic to get you the best price he can, takes 15 per cent (which is less than my agent takes!) and you walk out with a wad of cash. He regular sells paintings by Robert Lenkiewicz, Brian Pollard, Beryl Cook and Lee Woods, as well as works by nineteenth century artists such as William Gibbons, G.H.Jenkins and Henry Luscombe.

His largest sale for a painting was £20,000 for one by Lenkiewicz and I have the dubious accolade of being one of the cheapest, when a couple of years ago some punters walked out with a number of Jojo original naked portraits for about £30 each! You wait until after I am dead: then I'll be appreciated!!! Anyway, it's not just art that goes under the hammer: a number of rare gold coins fetched £330,000, the 1933 cricket ball from the bodyline test (£10,000) Charlie Chaplain's suit and cane (£3,000), the entire contents of a fancy dress shop and a 17-year-old slice of Charles and Diana's wedding cake, that had been kept in a fridge for all that time, (£120).

Paul is a Plymouth man; he left Devonport High School for Boys when he was 17 to work as a trainee surveyor. The company he joined also had an auction house, and very quickly Paul was bitten by the bug. The firm trained him up to be an auctioneer and he repaid them by setting up on his own when he was 25.

"I was young, enthusiastic and had lots of energy and with the support of my wife I decided to have ago," he tells me.

I ask him what it takes to be a great auctioneer: "It's a theatre; you have to have confidence on the rostrum; then you've got to spot who's interested, create a relaxed atmosphere and control the room." Sharon interjects: "You also need a sense of humour and to have empathy with those you sell to."

The dynamic couple finish each other's sentences: "No two days are ever the same, one day someone could bring in a set of medals, the next we'll be valuing someone's expansive train set or a Lenkiewicz painting.

"We've also done outside broadcasts, been on Spotlight a number of times, but as of yet, never the Antiques Road show!"

Sharon and Paul have great hopes: ""We're still young and energetic. We'd like to consolidate what we're doing and continue investing in picture sales to make them as accessible as possible."

I leave Paul determined to have a rummage amongst my possessions to see if there isn't something I can flog at their next art auction. Maybe I'll dig out some more of my photos: if they go for what they did last time I'll only need to sell 667 of them to equal the value of a Lenkiewicz! Talking of Lenkiewicz, only 39 days left to the opening night of my play based on his life! Have you got your tickets? Call the Barbican Theatre box office on 267131. Until next time, take care

jojo@eveningherald.co.uk