Going going gone

This wasn't the famed Christie's auction rooms in London or New York. It was just a small private auction of art work at a a large private dinner function organised by Charis Hospice in Penang. At stake were several pieces of artwork by various amateur local painters and a cross-stitch enthusiast. I went to the dinner by invitation of Dr Oo Loo Chan, the founder and a director of the Hospice.

My wife and I arrived early. My wife went into the banquet hall at the Spice Convention Centre to check on the evening's programme and left me to wander around. Feeling a bit bored, I went to look at the paintings in the centre of the lobby. And suddenly, I froze in front of one of them. Mmm, I thought to myself, the subject in the painting looked familiar. I stared at it again. After a few minutes, it struck me. I couldn't believe my eyes. Out of all the random and anonymous buildings in George Town, the artist had chosen the facade of a property that belonged to the Swee Cheok Tong Quah Kongsi. The society that I belong to.

This was one of the paintings that was put up for auction. The organisers called it a silent auction because the bids would be done by writing down the bid amounts on a piece of paper. At the end of the dinner, the bids would close and the last-made bid would be declared winner.


Now, should I bid for this painting? My wife said that I should. After all, it was a painting of one of our properties. The Kongsi should have it. And have it hung proudly in the Kongsi House. If the property can catch the eyes of a painter and he could paint a scene so vibrant and alive, it must mean that there is aesthetic value in this property of ours.

The reserve bid was set at RM2,300 and almost immediately, one person had raised the bid to RM3,500. This actually caused me a dilemma since this was unexpected. I began testing the water with a tentative RM3,550 bid. I walked back to my table at the other end of the banquet hall. When I returned to the painting later, that same person had written RM3,600 on the paper. I raised the bid to RM3,650 and walked away. When I returned to the painting again, the price had gone up to RM4,000.

Whoever it was, he was determined to get his hands on the painting and he wanted to scare me off. For whatever reason, I did not know.  Obviously, he no longer wanted to play along with me. On my part, I was beginning to have my doubts about continuing further but my wife said I should stand firm. It was something for the Kongsi and about the Kongsi. If I were to allow this picture of the Kongsi's property to fall into someone else's hands - someone detached and without any ties to the property - I would very much regret it, she said. On reflection, that was true. It must be more than a mere coincidence that I should attend a dinner function and see such a painting being put to auction.

So I raised the bid to RM4,050 and I stood back. Soon enough, I noticed a young man saunter up to the painting and write RM4,200 as his bid, again trying to discourage me. But I knew that it was almost time for the auction to end. I stood nearby and as the master of ceremony was announcing the closure of the bids, I wrote RM4,250 on the paper and handed it to the person in charge from Charis Hospice.

And that's how I ended up - or rather, how the Quah Kongsi ended up - with the painting of the Kongsi's property at the junction of Malay Street and Beach Street.

That's the artist, Khoo Cheang Jin, with us. He was mighty thrilled that his watercolour painting had fetched this good price at the auction. And actually, his was the only painting that saw some tussle among bidders.