From worthless to priceless

A combination of art history ‘lite’ and the personal touch — a common yoking together these days, even in books supposedly of art history ‘full strength’ — makes for, in Philip Hook’s hands, an engaging read. As a dealer and auctioneer, and the author of several thrillers, he has advantages not given to the general run of such investigative writers. His subject is the rise of French Impressionist painting, after its initial years of critical contempt and commercial failure, to international mass appeal and soaring value. It’s a familiar story, frequently told, and a reader looking for new light on the fortunes of Monet, Pissarro, Renoir, Sisley et al. will search in vain. Where Hook scores is in his practical experience. He brings a shrewd and sometimes comic touch to his portraits of dealers and collectors; he has some good quotations (from Henry James to Michael Innes); he knows the peculiar psychology of collecting and the smooth duplicity of dealing. If he is wary of offending his readers with any show of Burlington-esque scholarship, he is reliable on the broad outline.

In 1899, the 59-year-old Alfred Sisley lay dying of throat cancer in his modest rented home in Moret-sur-Loing. His last letters to his doctor in Paris are pathetic documents; poverty accompanied him to the end. He had the good sense, however, to call to his deathbed his old friend Monet to ask him to help his two children. Monet threw his energies into the organisation of a benefit auction in Paris, mostly of Impressionist works donated by Sisley’s colleagues. It was a great success, with vulterine dealers paying over the estimates. A year later one of Sisley’s most beautiful and famous works ‘Flood at Port-Marly’ was sold in the saleroom to Count Isaac de Camondo for 43,000 francs, by far the highest price yet achieved by a Sisley.