Forbes CollectorMay 2006    Volume 4, Issue 4
Collector’s Eye

British Maritime Paintings

By Missy Sullivan


Déjà vu? This William Anderson painting of the Thames looked identical to a John Ward the Gochbergs own. Turned out, Ward had owned—and copied—the Anderson.
Déjà vu? This William Anderson painting of the Thames looked identical to a John Ward the Gochbergs own. Turned out, Ward had owned—and copied—the Anderson.
(Courtesy collection of Thomas adn Leatrice Gochberg.)

The Gochberg family has a love affair with the sea. Thomas Gochberg’s obsession for ocean sailing started when he was a kid. His wife, Leatrice, came aboard when they got married 41 years ago. Both their children sail; in fact, their son, John, was a member of the U.S. Sailing team from 1992 to 2000. An investment banker specializing in real estate, the senior Gochberg was the New York Yacht Club’s first member to race solo across the Atlantic in 1980. So it comes as no surprise that when they aren’t ocean cruising to places like Newfoundland and the Mediterranean, Thomas and Leatrice have spent the last 25 years cruising galleries and auction catalogs, looking for the British maritime pictures that cover virtually every wall of their New York apartment. Their collection, now numbering some 40 paintings, spans 200 years of the majesty, drama and excitement of the tall ships. I recently visited the Gochbergs and got a taste of seafaring history.


What was your first purchase?

LG: We took our son to an auction of the Barbara Johnson whaling collection at Sotheby’s in 1981. We’re all sailors in the family, and there were artifacts we thought he would enjoy seeing. While there, we stumbled upon this painting by William Bradford, one of the most renowned American marine painters, particularly well known for his paintings of Arctic scenes.

TG: The painting, called Whaleship “Panther” in the Lee of an Iceberg, is gray and foreboding. And it’s still the most talked-about picture we own. People call it everything from frightening to ethereal. We found out later that there’s a duplicate original in the queen’s collection. But at the time, we didn’t know anything except that we had heard the name and we liked the picture. We bought the Bradford, then bought this apartment and looked at each other and said, “Marine paintings!”


So how did you proceed from there?

TG: We looked at books and went to museums and identified a list of artists we liked. We decided that we wanted to focus specifically on 19th-century British marine art. At that point, we had no idea where to buy or what to pay. Eventually we were introduced to the R.N. Omell Gallery in London, the foremost gallery for this material.

In January 1983, we were wandering around London, and saw that Bonham’s was having a marine auction. We bid on a painting by Thomas Buttersworth called Storm After the Battle of Trafalgar. It was really dirty, and not signed, which is why we were able to get it so cheaply—for only about £1100.

LG: It was so dirty. The ships were visible, but it was monochromatic. You couldn’t see the orange-pink sky or the excitement of the sea spray. It was 200 years old, in a crumbling frame. We called the Yacht Club, which recommended that we take it to Ken Moser, a conservator at the Brooklyn Museum, who has worked on our pictures ever since. He told us that, while it was filthy, it was in otherwise good condition and would be easy to clean. It was our first lesson in what is rational to buy, and how much you can restore. Now, in some cases, we bring in a restorer to look at a picture before we buy.

At this point, we are looking for explicit artists and periods. We’ve expanded the time frame of our collection, pushing it back earlier—back to the genesis of the genre in the late 17th century, when the Dutch sea painters Willem van de Velde and his son were commissioned by Charles II to come to England and paint their ships. That’s where the whole thing started.


Do you have any van de Veldes?

TG: No, but one of our most recent purchases was a painting by Adriaen van Diest, who was part of the late 17th-century wave of Dutch artists migrating to England, attracted by the thriving English market for marine paintings. It is believed that he apprenticed under the younger van de Velde. Our van Diest is called The British Fifth Rate Arriving At a Continental Port. In the British Royal navy of the time, a fifth rate was a frigate mounting 32 to 40 guns.


Who are some of the top names of the genre?

TG: Robert Salmon, Thomas and James Buttersworth, Peter Monamy, Nicholas Pocock, Thomas Whitcombe, Charles Brooking, John Clevely and Samuel Walters, among others.

Getting it right: Robert Salmon, regarded as one of the masters of British marine painting, is revered for his technical accuracy. Says Gochberg: “You can run every one of those lines.”
Getting it right: Robert Salmon, regarded as one of the masters of British marine painting, is revered for his technical accuracy. Says Gochberg: “You can run every one of those lines.”
(Courtesy collection of Thomas adn Leatrice Gochberg.)

Were all the marine paintings royal commissions?

TG: No. In the period we’re talking about, from the late 17th century to the late 19th century, you have to look at the patronage—follow the money. Who wanted to have a visual record of their ships? Remember, this was in the days before the camera, so people would hire an artist to make a record of their vessel. Sometimes a painting would provide a single view, and other times, a double or triple view: showing the same vessel from different angles in a single picture. So yes, first there was royal patronage, which you can see in pictures like our van Diest. Then commissions came for the East Indiamen, ships owned by the British East India Company, a royally chartered firm that controlled the lucrative trade with India. Those paintings are the rarest. After that, you see paintings of Napoleonic-era warships, like our Thomas Butters worth painting Storm After the Battle of Trafalgar (below). Then, patronage came from merchant ships. We have a fair number of those, like a John Ward called The Brig Helen Leaving Hull. Then finally, there are the yacht portraits.


To a non-sailor, many of these old ships look alike. How do you identify them?

TG: That’s part of the fun of collecting this material. The first step is to identify the rig. How many masts? Is the rig square or is it fore-and-aft? Then you look at the flags, which can help with dating. In our Peter Monamy painting, The Royal Sovereign Off Rochester Castle, you see the Union Jack, the royal standard and two other flags. There were only four years when all of those flags could’ve been flying simultaneously. If a ship is not shown out on the high seas, you try to identify the actual harbor by specific topographical or architectural landmarks. Once you have the rig type, date and location narrowed down, you can check newspaper accounts and shipping registries of the period.


So these are all real ships? No generic ships or imagined harbor scenes?

TG: You might see occasional imaginary harbor scenes, but not a generic ship. These are scrupulous depictions of these ships by people who knew how to sail them, build them and rig them. The best of the period are dead-on technically accurate. Robert Salmon, in particular, is known for his incredible detail. If you look at our Salmon painting, The Clydesdale and Osprey in the Clyde Off Greenock (above), you could actually run every single line you see on this ship.

I’ve been active in a group called the American Sail Training Association, and at one point we had a gathering of folks here at the apartment. In the room were people who had sailed historic tall ships like this. Two were standing in front of The Clydesdale and Osprey, drinks in hand, debating what maneuver was occurring. Was she anchoring or getting under way? The main corse is back-winded and the fore and mizzen sails are full. What they concluded is that she is slowing down prior to anchoring.


Is the same true for the “action” paintings, too?

TG: They are all based on real events. We have a pair of paintings from 1843 by Joseph Walter, depicting the actions of HMS Northumberland engaging (and ultimately sinking) three ships from the French navy in 1812. Walter actually went to old ship logbooks to read about the actions. We have copies of the relevant pages of the log taped to the back of the canvas.


You seem to have quite a number of paintings of ships in distress.

TG: It’s true. These paintings are filled with drama: storms, fires, rescues, ships running aground. And the good news for us is that, while there are a fair number of people who buy marine pictures just to decorate a home or office or boat, they usually don’t go for these types of pictures.It narrows the competition.

One great example is Robert Salmon’s Ship Aground in Storm Off Whitehaven Harbor of 1821. In that one, the boat has sailed into harbor and blown onto a sandbar. You can see there’s a line that’s been thrown to the dock, with men pulling on it— they’re desperately trying to stop her cold before she wrecks herself on the beach just downwind.

LG: When I viewed this at Christie’s, it looked awful, so dirty that you couldn’t see any of the important details. But I could tell it was a Salmon, so I asked them to take this one and a few others off the wall so that I could inspect them. (I don’t like to tip off other buyers as to which one I really like, so I always ask for more than one.) First I looked at it under the black light, and then under a raking desk light. It was only then that I could finally see beneath the grime to all the excitement of the painting: the line to the dock, the dramatic clouds, the men hanging off the boat to control it. The sky is so exciting to me, but you couldn’t see it until it was under intense direct light. Salmons were going for a fortune, but when this one came up on the block, it had only one other bid. I quietly raised my paddle and got it. Tom hadn’t noticed, and he turned to me and said, “Oh my God, someone bought that Salmon for only $22,000.” And I said, “Yes, dear, we did.”

No pleasure cruise, this: Thomas Buttersworth is particularly well known for his paintings of important naval engagements. Here: Storm After the Battle of Trafalgar shows high drama on the high seas.
No pleasure cruise, this: Thomas Buttersworth is particularly well known for his paintings of important naval engagements. Here: Storm After the Battle of Trafalgar shows high drama on the high seas.
(Courtesy collection of Thomas adn Leatrice Gochberg.)

I see this one over here is on fire.

TG: That’s a Thomas Buttersworth, and again, it’s based on an actual event: the loss of the East Indiamen ship Kent by fire in the Bay of Biscay in 1825. Remember what I said about following the money? He probably read about this tragedy in the paper and since this is before photography, there was a market to illustrate this dramatic story. It’s quite a spectacular night scene, very violent, with the ship listing in the roiling seas and the red glow of the fire illuminating the smoke as it rises to the clouds.


What mistakes have you made along the way?

LG: We tried to fill too many walls too fast in the early days. We didn’t have patience. So we ended up selling pieces off and upgrading as we slowly came to understand quality. We’ve probably sold 15 paintings along the way.

What you envision your collection being changes, and your eye changes, and you begin to see how things interrelate. There are six to eight painters we don’t have that we want, and we are upgrading the artists that we love.


How has the market changed since you started 25 years ago?

LG: Back then, British marine art was quite a small collecting niche. Most of the material was spread throughout England, in private homes and manors. And most of it flew under the radar of museums.

Early on, we could pick up stuff relatively inexpensively. We bought James Buttersworth’s Vesta for $14,000 in 1984 and it’s currently valued in the neighborhood of $100,000. The painting of The Brig Helen by John Ward of Hull? We got that in 1983 for $23,000. Today it’s worth over $200,000.

James Buttersworth, son of Thomas, was a top 19th-century ship portraitist. This image, of the schooner Vesta entering Portsmouth harbor after an historic transatlantic voyage, shows him experimenting with the reflectivity of the water.
James Buttersworth, son of Thomas, was a top 19th-century ship portraitist. This image, of the schooner Vesta entering Portsmouth harbor after an historic transatlantic voyage, shows him experimenting with the reflectivity of the water.
(Courtesy collection of Thomas adn Leatrice Gochberg.)

As more collectors began to show interest, the British started pulling these pictures out of their attics and bringing them to auction. As a result, there are far fewer discoveries than there used to be.Compared to some other collecting areas,the entire genre hasn’t moved a huge amount. Some prices have even moved down or sideways. But the top works by the top artists, like James Buttersworth and Robert Salmon, have seen strong appreciation.

That said, we never buy for investment. The financial side of it is secondary compared to the beauty and drama and excitement of the paintings themselves and the joy they give us every day.

— Missy Sullivan


WHERE TO BUY BRITISH MARITIME PAINTING

Bonhams, London
www.bonhams.com

Sotheby’s, London and New York
www.sothebys.com

Christie’s, London and New York
www.christies.com

N.R. Omell Gallery, London
www.artnet.com/nromell.html


WHERE TO SEE BRITISH MARITIME PAINTING

National Maritime Museum, Greenwich, England
www.nmm.ac.uk

Peabody Essex Museum, Salem, MA
www.pem.org

Yale Center for British Art, New Haven, CT
http://ycba.yale.edu/index.asp

South Street Seaport Museum, New York, NY
www.southstseaport.org

The Mariners’ Museum, Newport News, VA
www.mariners.org

Annapolis Maritime Museum, Annapolis, MD
www.annapolismaritimemuseum.org