New York, November 6, 2007— Auction Night
The doorman at Christie’s is named Gil. He is a mustachioed force of energy, charm, and manners, and he spins the glass door with such vigor that you don’t even have to take your hands out of your winter-coat pockets as you glide in. By the time you’ve entered the heated lobby, Gil has winked at you, patted your shoulder, wished you good luck, and filled you with enough confidence to spend millions of dollars on something priceless. Walking into Christie’s “Impressionist and Modern Art Evening Sale” is always a heady experience.
A sea of fur, Hermès, and perfume greets you at the doorway to the salesroom. Most of those gathered here are the world’s leading art dealers; some are billionaire collectors. Sure, you may spot a superstar or two, such as Leonardo DiCaprio or Marc Jacobs, but you’re more interested in people like Microsoft co-founder Paul Allen, banker Donald Marron, or industrialist Mitchell Rales. The names of the billionaires here may not mean much to most people, but they are the richest of the rich. These are the true superstars—old white guys in gray suits.
