"I want Captain Kirk's chair." I'd been saying it for the past
couple of weeks to whoever would listen, usually following with "Does
anyone have a quarter million dollars I can borrow?" The request was
tongue-in-cheek, of course, but my excitement was real. The auction
house Profiles in History was going to hold another Star Trek auction.
At their previous Star Trek auction, held on December 12, 2001,
somebody paid $42,500 for one of the original-series screen-used models
of the starship Enterprise. This time Captain Kirk's command chair from
the set of the original U.S.S. Enterprise bridge would go to a lucky,
well-heeled fan. As the auction catalog points out, this chair is
"without question, one of the most important discoveries in the history
of television memorabilia, and arguably the most recognizable chair
in the world." It was expected to bring in a final bid of $100,000 to
$150,000, but I was guessing that $250,000 would be closer to reality.
As a long-time fan of the show, and a sometime collector myself, I knew
I had to attend.
My collecting journey began around 1996 when I met memorabilia
collector Roger Sides at a science fiction convention. He had on display
a very impressive set of authentic Star Trek props, costumes,
pre-production sketches, and signage from his personal collection.
It was the first time the idea of collecting original Star Trek
memorabilia ever even occurred to me. But suddenly, I had the bug.
I ended up buying a couple of Star Trek: The Motion Picture
signs and pre-production sketches directly from him, and that got me
started.
Shortly after that, I purchased some more pre-production design sketches
from another collector, Martin Nuetzel, via the Internet. Then, in May
of 1996, I learned that the Los Angeles-based auction house, Profiles In
History, was going to be holding the second of their Hollywood memorabilia
auctions, which was to feature several original Star Trek items.
I registered to bid, and on June 2, 1996, I drove to Hollywood for what
was to be my first live auction experience.
Being an auction-buying newbie, I carefully read the catalog's description
of the rules. Everything from official bid increments, to the fifteen
percent "buyer's premium", to the rules about sales tax were explained
there. I made a chart for myself which showed each bid amount and the
corresponding actual price I'd have to pay -- the bid amount,
plus 15% buyer's premium, plus 8.25% sales tax -- if I won the item at
that bid amount. Armed with this cheat sheet, I successfully bid on and
won a couple of Star Trek items, including a nice pre-production
painting by Mike Minor of the interior of the Enterprise just outside of
Dr. McCoy's sickbay, shown at right.
I made very few Star Trek memorabilia purchases after that, and
eventually dropped out of the collecting habit. In the intervening years,
prices went up and the hobby became a lot more expensive, keeping me out
of the market. But when I got wind of last year's Profiles In History
auction, in which much of the personal collections of art director
Matt Jefferies, Desilu VP Herb Solow and co-producer Bob Justman was
going on sale, I decided it might be time to add a few choice items to
my modest collection. So I hit the road once again and drove
to Los Angeles.
The biggest surprise for me at last year's auction was the way the
Internet affected the bidding. When I'd last attended a live auction,
bidders had to either be in the room or on the telephone to an auction
representative if they wanted to participate in competitive bidding, or
submit an absentee bid and let the auctioneer bid on their behalf up to
their maximum amount. But this time, the Internet provided another means
for bidders to play the auction game, and boy, did it make a big difference!
Prices were up. Way up.
I came away empty-handed from that auction, as I was outbid every time.
But I still found it fascinating to watch the bidding activities
of those with more disposable income than I. On several occasions,
two wealthy and determined fans engaged in fierce bidding wars over
particular items. One gentleman, who looked to be in his mid-thirties,
had a Terminator-style determination -- unstoppable, no matter the
price! -- when it came to the original props. The catalog estimated
value of, for example, an original series Tricorder prop was $12,000 -
$15,000. However, this gentleman and someone else (on the Internet) both
wanted it. As the bidding moved first past fifteen thousand dollars,
then past twenty, people stopped perusing their catalogs and started
paying attention. As the bidders passed twenty-five thousand, then
thirty thousand, and then forty thousand dollars and still showed
no signs of stopping, the charge in the room was palpable and everyone's
full attention was on the in-room bidder. He finally emerged victorious
when his opponent declined to top his $45,000 winning bid. The auction
attendees broke out into applause when the hammer fell. At that moment,
I realized that attending an auction, even if not as a bidder, could be as
adrenaline-inducing as a good horse-race or high-stakes wagering at Vegas.
In my notes, I started referring to the gentleman who won that bidding
war as "The Tricorder Guy". He went on to win several other bidding
wars, and by the time the afternoon's sale was over, it seemed to me
that he'd easily spent a quarter of a million dollars all by himself.
But oh, the toys he'd acquired!
So when the catalog for this year's follow-up auction arrived in my
mailbox, it came as a pleasant surprise. I knew I wouldn't be able to
afford any of the items in it that I really wanted, but I also knew
it was going to be fun to watch the better-financed fans go head-to-head
over this stuff. I was also hoping that some of the big buyers from
last year's auction would reemerge at this year's. And indeed, some did.
But alas, "The Tricorder Guy" didn't show up (though some speculated that
he was among the phone or Internet bidders).
Nevertheless, this year's auction, held on the afternoon of June 27,
2002, was plenty exciting. As at the previous auction, the Internet
played an important role. The auctioneer announced that around 550
people had registered to bid via the Internet. I looked around me and
realized that that meant there were actually more registered bidders on the
'Net than there were in the room!
Stacey Roman was the auctioneer at both last year's Star Trek
auction and this one. Roman, formerly the Fine Arts Director at
Butterfields, freelanced
himself to Profiles In History for these events. He has a relaxed,
friendly demeanor which really helped make the auctions fun for everyone.
For example, at one particularly tense moment at last year's Star
Trek auction, during a fierce battle between "The Tricorder Guy" and
an unknown Internet bidder over a Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan
phaser pistol prop, Roman joked to "The Tricorder Guy", "Wouldn't it
suck if that was your wife?" I think it was the only time I saw "The
Tricorder Guy" smile!
But Roman is more than a man with a good-natured sense of humor; he
is a smart, professional auctioneer. A case in point was the sale at
this auction of the Captain Kirk command chair. The battle for this
item quickly came down to a contest between a gentleman on the floor and
someone on the phone. The man on the floor raised his paddle quickly and
continuously until the bid amount reached up around $200,000. At that
point, he started to raise the paddle a little more slowly and exhibited
some signs of strain. From $100,000 to $250,000, the bid increment
was supposed to be $10,000. So the next acceptable bid that could
beat $200,000 was supposed to be $210,000. But Stacey Roman, perhaps
noticing the signs of stress in the in-room bidder's body-language,
did something smart. He took the bid-increment down and started
accepting bids in smaller $5,000 increments. Slowly, little by little,
the bidders ratcheted the price up until the in-room bidder finally
declined to top the phone bidder's $265,000 bid. After a few seconds'
pause, when it was clear that bidder on the floor wasn't willing or able
to go higher, Stacey Roman dropped the hammer and sold Kirk's chair to
the phone bidder for a final bid of $265,000.
Of course, in addition to the $265,000 he bid, the "winner" must also
cover the 15% buyer's premium. That brings the official price paid for the
chair to $304,750. Adding California and Los Angeles sales tax to that
figure brings it closer to $330,000. According to Profiles In History,
that "simply makes this piece of Star Trek memorabilia the most
coveted collectible in television history." Joseph Maddelena, the President
and CEO of Profiles In History said, "We've never offered a collection of
memorabilia of this magnitude before and from the attics of living legends:
Bob Justman, Herbert Solow and Matt Jefferies. Our last Star Trek
auction was amazing, but this was off-the-scale."
Other auction highlights included a 1964 first-draft treatment for Star
Trek which included annotations in creator Gene Roddenberry's hand.
Estimated before the auction to go for $600 - $800, the bidding opened at
$450, then immediately leapt to $2250, selling ultimately for a hammer
price of $6500. Herb Solow's personal copy of the second pilot episode,
"Where No Man Has Gone Before", on 16mm film, sold for the relative
bargain price of $650 to an Internet bidder. A lot comprised of a
stunt phaser (the kind that are crudely made and velcro'd to an actor's
costume), a command insignia, an episode script, and a signed presentation
letter from William "Captain Kirk" Shatner, went for $20,000, doubling the
high estimate. William Shatner's "alternate universe" uniform tunic from
the episode, "Mirror, Mirror", joined someone's collection for a final
hammer price of $25,000, almost doubling the high estimate of $15,000.
Costume designer William Ware Theiss is known for the sexy costumes
he created for the female guest stars on the original Star Trek
series, and several of his most distinctive and recognizable costumes
were on the auction block at this event. The beautiful multi-colored
lingerie worn by Barbara Luna as Marlena, "The Captain's Woman", in
the alternate universe of "Mirror, Mirror", sold for a final hammer
price of $4000. The beige and black dress worn by Joanne Linville as
the Romulan Commander in "The Enterprise Incident", sold for $4750,
as did Lee Meriwether's costume from "That Which Survives". The very
recognizable green and blue male jumpsuit used in "What Are Little Girls
Made Of?" sold for $7500.
A large panel from the original Enterprise bridge set sold for $19,000,
and a letter from Leonard "Spock" Nimoy to series creator and Executive
Producer Gene Roddenberry containing some of Nimoy's thoughts about the
character of "Spock" sold for $8500. Two different costumes worn by
Ricardo Montalban as the titular character in the second Star Trek
movie, Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan, sold for $27,500 each, and
both were purchased by the same bidder. Spock's white robe from Star
Trek IV: The Voyage Home fetched a cool $10,000, as did a Captain
Picard duty uniform from the first or second season of Star Trek: The
Next Generation.
Star Trek's first composer, Alexander Courage, was in attendance
at the auction. Three pages of his handwritten score for the first pilot
episode, "The Cage", brought a hammer price of $7000 -- $500 more than
the Baldwin piano on which he composed that score. It sold for $6500.
Other Star Trek luminaries in attendance included original series
Art Director Matt Jefferies, Production Executive Herb Solow and his
wife Yvonne Fern Solow (author of several non-fiction books about Star
Trek), and Co-Producer Bob Justman.
In the end, I didn't come away with any props, costumes, or set pieces
to add to my collection. But it was a fun and fascinating way to spend
the day. I don't think we'll see the likes of this kind of auction again
any time soon. I chatted with Herb Solow's wife after the auction and
she told me that there's not much left in the hands of the creators
of the original show. Most of their private holdings were auctioned
off in these last two Profiles In History Star Trek auctions.
That made me doubly glad to have been able to attend them both in person.
Besides, now I can stop asking for that $250,000 loan.
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