There can be few paintings more apt for their moment at auction than L.S. Lowry’s The Auction. Lowry stands as one of Britain’s most celebrated and collectible painters of the 20th century, and an artist whose pictures have regularly made auction headlines. The present work is Lowry’s only known painting of an auction and it captures the buzz of a saleroom in a manner that only Lowry, with his distinctive iconography, could. The pleasing circularity of the painting’s appearance at auction would no doubt have satisfied Lowry’s wry sense of humour – a case of life imitating art.

Executed in 1958 on an impressive scale, The Auction is one of only a handful of interior scenes within Lowry’s oeuvre, offering us a rare glimpse of what is going on within the buildings that populate his famous industrial townscapes. Other interior subjects include small family groups, a doctor’s surgery, an election rally or an outpatient’s hall (fig. 2). In each instance, Lowry chose subjects that resonated with him and as always, it is the people that are his principle interest.

The auction environment – a hive of commerce and chance encounters - provided Lowry the perfect opportunity to portray a cast of people and interactions. On surveying the foreground, one’s first impression is that of one of Lowry’s iconic street scenes, rich in characterful detail. Lowry’s acute observation drew him to crowds, insisting:

We see men, women and children of all shapes and sizes, a pram with an over-sized child, a dog on a lead, perhaps even a tussle breaking out. Paintings are stacked high; cabinets and furniture are being busily viewed. In the centre foreground, the woman with the red skirt staring out appears almost lost. Only in seeing the rows of benches in the middle-distance, and of course the auctioneer on his rostrum, are we transported back into the saleroom.

The large scale of the work draws us into the drama which, central to Lowry’s working method, is expertly constructed.

In The Auction, Lowry divides the work into three parts: the busy foreground, seated middle ground and raised background where the auctioneer conducts proceedings. By angling the side wings into the centre of the picture, as well as the central channel lined with people between the benches, Lowry leads our eye across the hustle and bustle of the saleroom to the cause of the action – the auctioneer, whose size Lowry exaggerates. Elevated above the crowd, the sense of a stage – and drama unfolding – no doubt appealed to Lowry, who enjoyed going to the theatre. The artist, Sheila Fell, whom Lowry supported and formed a lasting friendship, recalled that on a visit to see her in London they went to see Prinadello’s Six Characters in Search of an Author. Lowry was so taken by it he saw it a further eight times (Shelley Rohde, L. S. Lowry, A Biography, 1999, p.262). In the present work, Lowry’s emphasis on the theatrical element of an auction reminds us that an auction is not just about the objects, but the lives of those bound with them. An auction therefore, like any other of Lowry’s chosen subjects, is a window into a wider human narrative.

Technically, Lowry employs the white ground which is integral to his work. Lowry arrived upon this distinctive formula through the criticism of Bernard Taylor, his teacher at Salford School of Art in the 1920s, who at the time complained of an overall muddiness and lack of distinction within Lowry’s paintings. As a result, Lowry experimented with flake white with increasing success, preparing a chalk white ground which would mellow with time. It subsequently became a staple of his output to follow and a defining feature of his work. Lowry also employs his trademark flashes of red which lead the eye through the composition.

Few artists have attempted to portray an auction, perhaps understandably given the challenges of the subject. Lowry’s visual language enables him to capture its spirit in a manner few artists could hope to achieve. One artistic forebear who was drawn to the subject was Thomas Rowlandson, another great chronicler of British contemporary life who gave us an early 19th century depiction of an auction (fig. 3). Lowry was an admirer of Rowlandson’s work, and owned a Rowlandson watercolour which he purchased from The Stone Gallery, one of his long-term supporters, in Newcastle. Like Rowlandson, Lowry’s social observations place him within a tradition of satirical English art - a mantle which the artist Banksy, specifically using the auction context, continues today with works such as I can’t believe you morons actually buy this shit (2007), and his history-making moment with the shredding of Love is in the Air at Sotheby’s, which returned to Sotheby’s in October 2021 as Loves is in the Bin, selling for a record-breaking £18 million.

Auction has long had the ability to cause sensations and thrill audiences – something which became increasingly common from the mid-twentieth century as the auction format leapt into the modern age. In the same year that Lowry painted his auction scene in 1958, Sotheby’s held its famous auction of the Goldschmidt Collection in London, offering seven Impressionist paintings from the collection of American banker Jakob Goldschmidt, which achieved a record result for an auction (fig. 4). A glamorous black-tie event, it heralded in the new age of gala auctions which have garnered crowds and international attention, from The Jewels of the Duchess of Windsor in 1987 to David Bowie’s personal art collection in 2016 (both at Sotheby’s, London).

Lowry’s painting provides us a snapshot of a local saleroom from a bygone era. While we cannot be certain of the location, a sketch from 1956 which relates to the present work was, according to Mervyn Levy, ‘made at a Manchester auction attended by the artist.’ (fig 5.) We know Lowry attended auctions both in Manchester and London, and that he first touched on the subject in 1924 with a drawing called Setting Up the Old Antiques Shop. In 1936, he reworked this to become The Auction (fig. 6); while another painting from 1952 depicts the exterior of Jackson’s Auction and Saleroom with furniture amassed outside its premises (fig. 7). These works reveal Lowry’s long-lasting fascination with the saleroom, and which finds its apex in the present work.

The subject of auction also brings to the fore Lowry’s own relationship with the art market. Lowry was frank about the financial side of his art. Typical of his character, he liked to refer to his art as a metier on a par with bricklaying or book-keeping. After being made a Royal Academy (one of the few honours he did accept - ‘good for business’ as he declared) - he would also deliberately infuriate certain Academicians by inquiring loudly at Burlington House: ‘How’s trade?’ (Shelley Rohde, L. S. Lowry, A Biography, 1999. p.354).

Public recognition, and financial reward, however, came late to Lowry. Early in his career, support was limited to a small, close group of admirers. It was not until 1939, aged fifty-two, that he finally had gallery representation through the Lefevre Gallery. This proved transformational, Lefevre’s regular exhibitions bringing Lowry to a wider audience, and the commissions and public shows that followed increasingly raised his profile, and the prices of his work. Critics however remained divided. In one of the most notable reviews, the artist Michael Ayrton, writing for the Arts Review in the Spectator in January 1968 went as far as to say he was revulsed by Lowry’s work, criticising his ability to draw. This led to an amusing anecdote recalled by Lowry’s great patron, Monty Bloom. Relaying to Lowry the prices achieved for artists at Sotheby’s and Christie’s auctions, Bloom recalled, “Lowry would ask in mock innocence: ‘How much did Mr Ayrton’s picture fetch, can you tell me, Mr Bloom?’ ‘Oh, about two hundred pounds’, Bloom would reply. After a short pause Lowry would resume. ‘And can you tell me, Mr Bloom, how much that picture of mine fetched?’ ‘Something over two thousand, Mr Lowry,’ Bloom replied’. Again a pause, then: ‘Isn’t that interesting, sir,’ Lowry would say, his blue eyes sparking with mischief. ‘I wonder how that can be, don’t you, Mr Bloom – because I can’t draw, you know, I can’t draw.’” (Monty Bloom in conversation with Rodhe, quoted in L. S. Lowry, A Biography, 1999, p.209)

Lowry witnessed a remarkable financial appreciation of his work in his lifetime, and which has since continued. At his first exhibition at Moseley Street, Manchester in 1921, Lowry did not sell a single work. At Lefevre’s show of his work in 1961, every painting sold, with the top prices at £1,000. This pattern was reflected at auctions, with prices for Lowry’s work reaching £7,000 in his lifetime. Lowry was ‘pleased they fetch a lot of money’ (S. Rohde, L. S. Lowry, A Biography, 1999, p.390) but his grumble was that, now in his seventies, it was all too late. Sotheby’s sale of Lowry’s Good Friday, Daisy Nook on 8th July 1970 set a new auction record for the artist. Lowry was reportedly in attendance and his friend Harold Riley recalled that when Lowry was asked how he felt about the price, he replied, ‘like the horse must feel when they give the jockey the prize for the winning race’ (quoted in Royal Academy, L. S. Lowry, exhibition catalogue, 1976, p.37).

Such a turn of phrase was typical of Lowry’s sense of humour. Money was not however Lowry’s overriding concern. The Auction is one of the last large group scenes of his career before, in the 1960s, he turned his focus to more concentrated individual depictions of figures. Witnessing the high demand for Lowry’s industrial scenes at this time, his dealers urged him to continue producing such industrial examples. It would have been financially favourable for him to do so; however, Lowry stated he could no longer paint them sincerely, and Lowry always maintained the integrity of his art above anything else.

It is also unlikely that Lowry’s lifestyle would have changed dramatically should he have seen his financial success earlier in his career. Lowry lived a simple life and his habits did not change. He did not drink or smoke, only owned two or three paint-splattered suits, had no motor car, no television, and only reluctantly installed a telephone. He was therefore a man of few extravagances; however, his financial freedom in later life did allow him one indulgence – collecting. Lowry was an enthusiastic clock collector and bought artworks by young artistic talents, including his protégée Sheila Fell and Lucian Freud. His greatest passion was for the work of the Pre-Raphaelites. Lowry bought several masterpieces including a superb version of Rossetti’s Proserpine, purchased through Lefevre for 5000 guineas at Christie’s in November 1964 (fig. 8).

Lowry was five years retired from his job as a rent collector by the time he painted The Auction – the additional time and financial opportunity no doubt allowed him to attend auctions with a more regular and active participation. This personal interest therefore adds a compelling note to the present work – Lowry was not just a detached observer but would have been well aware of the highs and lows of the auction experience; a moment Lowry emphasises in the present work as the auctioneer, with his gavel raised, prepares to seal the sale. Perhaps such sentiments are why Lowry chose to personally loan the work to his retrospective at Manchester City Art Gallery in 1959. While Lowry’s painting reveals how the presentation of sales and salerooms has evolved over the years, the enduring appeal and attraction of auctions continues in much the same manner.

Lowry’s paintings have added their own drama to auction history too, from the sale of Going to the Match to the Professional Footballer’s Association for a then record £1.9 million (Sotheby’s, London, 1 December 1999, lot 40) to the single-owner sale of Lowry paintings from the A. J. Thompson Collection for £15 million (Sotheby’s, London, 25 March 2014). The Tate’s major exhibition on Lowry in 2013 firmly reasserted Lowry’s distinct position within not just British but European modern art. The integrity and singularity of Lowry’s vision, conjuring a world of people, places and incident continues to capture our imagination, and show no signs of diminishing.