James Zemaitis
02/01/2005
For much of my career, 20th-century furniture and design have been secondary to the more high-profile world of contemporary art. While it seems even amateur art buffs can now tell a Takashi Murakami from a Matthew Barney, only the most devoted design fans have typically had the interest or sophistication to spot, say, a piece by the Campana Brothers amid a room full of Knoll. But as tastes change and collectors expand their horizons, 20th-century design is finally receiving its rightful recognition by both the media and auction houses like my own. Without doubt, this is a market in constant evolution, but one whose star continues to rise—as do the prices of its most important works.
The current market for 20th-century design began heating up in the mid- to late-1990s when new-moneyed dot-commers, along with a slice of young Hollywood, caused a frenzy for what is known as Mid-Century Modern. Names like George Nelson, Florence Knoll and Charles and Ray Eames define this genre, which is anchored around an industrial, mass-meets-class aesthetic dating to the period just after World War II. In short order, Mid-Century Modern prices ballooned to levels typically associated with design’s historic market leaders, such as 1920s avant-garde icons Pierre Legrain and Eileen Gray.
The Mid-Century Modern boom peaked in tandem with the Internet explosion. Five years on, collectors would have to work hard to recoup their initial investments. For me, this market fell flat because it lacked both the aesthetic and exclusive bona fides that define top 20th-century design. Unlike the rarest—and priciest—lamps from Tiffany Studios or a lux 1920s sideboard from France’s Jacques-Emile Ruhlmann, pieces by Herman Miller and Knoll were widely produced. Once the genre began receiving wide acclaim, pieces appeared en masse, flooding the market and diluting its value. Because these pieces tend to lack the details of custom-made creations, even the finest-eyed dealer found it hard to tell an Eames chair produced in, say, 1947 from a 1958 model. The lesson to be learned is that even though these designs may have been historically important, their ubiquity made them far from a good buy.
Modern design evolved from many of the same cultural movements that spawned modern art. So if you are a fan of Gustav Klimt and Austrian art, you might investigate the designs of Josef Hoffmann from the Wiener Werkstaette, and scout out the small auction houses in Vienna. If you love Piet Mondrian, check out the furniture of Gerrit Rietveld sold at Sotheby’s in Amsterdam. For design novices, these historical links can prove useful: If you already collect and enjoy a certain art period, chances are you will be partial to design from the same era.
The most significant force in my field continues to be the conservative French cabinetmakers and decorators who worked from the 1920s into the 1940s—from Ruhlmann to Arbus—who have dominated New York and Paris auctions for years; six-figure prices have become commonplace. Meanwhile, today’s contemporary art collectors gravitate to the more radical postwar French architects, such as Jean Prouvé and Charlotte Perriand, driving their prices higher.
But part of what I still love most about modern design is the sense of democracy resulting from its functionalist, utilitarian, consumerist tradition. Quality pieces exist at almost every price point. While collectors may not want to immediately indulge in a Prouvé console, they can confidently test the waters with a Karim Rashid chair from Target. If they fall in love with it, they can formalize their interest by upgrading to an original Rashid prototype for 10 times the price. Similar scales of investment opportunity exist for most of today’s young guard, from Brazil’s Campanas and Holland’s Droog Design to Jasper Morrison and Ron Arad in London.
But collectors must educate themselves to ensure they are getting in on the next Charles Mackintosh, not the next Charles Eames. One should read industry journals such as Art + Auction for analysis of a designer’s current standing. Professional advisors can shepherd novices through the early stages of assembling a collection. The idea is to learn as much about the designer’s “back story” as possible: Who else is buying his work? How intense is the bidding process? Which galleries represent him exclusively? In short, perform the due diligence typical of any smart investment. But as you trade the boardroom for an auction house, it is a lot more fun.
 | James Zemaitis, senior vice president at Sotheby’s, directs the auction gallery’s 20th-century design department. |