Have you got a painting that intrigues you? One which sits there in silence, yet to reveal its secrets? Every painting has a story - an artist, a context, an age, and a place - waiting to be discovered by those who ask the right questions.

Yet, from personal experience, finding those answers can be harder than it should be. While I have the utmost respect for my peers and mentors, the world of period paintings can sometimes feel a little… exclusive. It’s an odd phenomenon, and one that occurs far less in other branches of the antique world, such as ceramics or furniture. So why art?

Perhaps there’s a lingering sense of self-assurance, a hangover from the 18th century when paintings were perceived as symbols of infinite wisdom.

“Oh, you wouldn’t understand, Margaret, it’s an allegory. Shall I spell that for you?”

And if you venture into certain antique art forums today, or scroll through social media, you’ll find plenty of this still in action.

My Own Experience

My own journey into this world was far from glamorous - in fact, it began in the most ordinary way imaginable. Back in 2017, I rented an apartment with blank white walls. Not one for minimalism, I felt compelled to decorate, so I purchased scores of modern prints after the household names we all know - Picasso, Van Gogh, Manet, Constable.

Yet, upon opening the carefully packed boxes, I was underwhelmed. Decorative, certainly, but soulful? No.

For a few weeks I lived with them, these effervescent bursts of colour that matched the interior perfectly. Yet they didn’t feel like mine. They were everywhere - replicated endlessly on giclée printers.

So why not an original oil painting? Where would I even buy one? Why did I feel so connected to original works when I visited museums and historic houses? What was that quality that held the imagination?

I opened a browser, typed in “antique landscape paintings”, and rummaged through endless websites - marketplaces, dealers, auctions, eBay (don’t laugh), Etsy and others. It was a minefield. Confusing, overwhelming.

Why is this painting £9,000, while another, just as presentable, is £90? Why are so many listed as “POA”? Does that mean they’re expensive? Will I sound foolish for asking? And how do I even ask?

Eventually I found a sweet pair of landscapes, painted in oil on board. Little information was provided. They were around £80 for the pair.

They held their own quiet secret.

Unboxing them was entirely different - partly because the packaging was dreadful (apparently a reused printer box padded with newspaper), but mostly because when I held them, I felt something. No one else had anything quite like them. The views of the River Severn were nicely handled, with figures and a distant horizon. And importantly, they were signed.

George Willis Pryce (1866-1949)

A quick search revealed that Pryce was a British landscape painter from Birmingham, with works in museums. Museums! I owned a painting by an artist represented in a museum.

From here, I fell fully into research - his family tree, his biography, and above all, the question I still ask of every painting: what motivated him? Was it money? Ambition? Habit? What kind of person sits by a view and tries to capture it?

After exhausting what I could find, I contacted several people, including a dealer, and received this reply:

“These aren’t worth anything, sorry. They’re what we call pot boilers.”

I hadn’t asked for a valuation.

A pot boiler, as I quickly learned, is an old expression for paintings made to ‘keep the stove alight’. Pah.

I didn’t know then that this sneering attitude was common in the art world. It still puzzles me. If any of you have ever had a reply like that, tell me immediately, and I shall dispatch the unmerciful guillotine of truth upon the sender (this is a metaphor, before you contact a legal professional).

Selling Paintings I Love

As you may have guessed, I dedicated my time to buying, researching, and selling the paintings I found. I’ve never bought anything that doesn’t evoke that same feeling - that sense of depth, curiosity, and genuine character.

It can be hard, sometimes impossible, to part with them. They’ve become a family of ever-changing characters. We treasure them all and love it when they find the right home.

Researching them is not a commercial exercise - it’s a courtesy to their next custodian.

In the early days, one mentor was especially kind. He was the only person who shared his wisdom freely. He’d already lived a full life - dealt in Italian old masters, run a successful gallery, settled into comfort - yet he still met every painting with the enthusiasm of a young apprentice. He loved what we were building. He passed away a few years ago, but I often think of him.

Ask Anything: The Thursday Art Clinic

Your weekly companion through the world of antique art.

So, in his honour, I’m dedicating every Thursday entirely to answering your questions about antique art - its history, quirks, attributions, condition, and general musings. Every email will be answered, and always in plain English. Do I know everything? No, of course not, but I'll certainly be able to offer some advice.

If you have a question about any painting in your collection (over 100 years old), or about art history in general, do get in touch. You’ll receive a reply the following Thursday. The only exception is purely financial queries - if it’s “how much is this worth?”, I shall delete it.

My mentor taught me that knowledge is something to be shared, not guarded. This weekly clinic is my way of passing that spirit forward.

In the meantime, here’s some further reading.

Dating A Painting By Its Surface: A Collector’s Guide
Identifying The Age Of A Canvas Painting
How To Identify An Antique Oil Painting
Oil Painting Restoration
Our Guide To Attributions
What Are Etchings, Aquatints & Drypoints?
How To Value A Painting
Gratitude Made Visible: The Human Story Behind The Ex-Voto
Mary Magdalene: Reinterpreted Through A Modern Lens

I look forward to hearing from you.