Charles Ebert

(1873-1959)

In the world of art collecting there are many specialized niches where hardcore devotees chase the often rare examples that match their passion. One of these is paintings depicting Bermuda. I’ve been aware of this area of aggressive interest, but it never appealed to me as such… already being spread too thin for my resources (mentally and financially). In 2003 I received a postcard announcing an upcoming show from a small upstate Connecticut gallery I had helped from time to time. As it was, the owner was due to visit me the very next day. The painting on the postcard was by Charles Ebert, a central figure in the Old Lyme School and an artist I did not have represented in the collection. The high-key city scene certainly wasn’t Old Lyme, but it was kind of appealing, in a pastel sort of way. I called the gallery owner to discover it was a piece he had owned for many years in his private collection and decided to sell in his upcoming show, and he didn’t know what city in Europe it was. The price seemed pretty fair, for a non–Old Lyme image, so I asked him to bring it with him, which he did. Studying the postcard, knowing that Ebert’s palette was often “pastely,” I still said to myself, “Wait a minute, Europe doesn’t have pale yellow, blue, and pink buildings with white roofs.” And then the penny dropped… this isn’t Europe, despite the prominent cathedral in the distance—it’s Bermuda. I put on my “game face” and purchased the picture. Several hours later, upon returning home, the dealer called me to say he had received four phone calls on his answering machine, offering up to five times what I had paid. Nevertheless, he wasn’t upset at all; he simply called to inform me of the scene: Hamilton, Bermuda. I graciously thanked him. It was a good guess, and this time the ball bounced my way.