Showing posts with label collecting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label collecting. Show all posts

Wednesday, September 5, 2012

The World’s Most Expensive Comic Book Art (And Why Prices Keep Climbing)

by Angela Watercutter, Wired, Underwire, September 5, 2012


Detective Comics #27


His colleagues who dealt in other collectibles had hit the seven-figure mark before — the house has sold dozens of coins for $1 million or better — but this time his comics enterprise was hitting the big time.

“When we joined that million-dollar club with a comic, people took notice,” Sandoval told Wired in a recent interview. “The auction record at the time was just over $300,000. When we had that comic in our catalog, we were promoting it as a potential half-million-dollar item.

Then we go into the live session and it’s like, ‘Did we say half-million? We meant 1 million!’”
That was just the beginning. The 20 most valuable comics ever auctioned off have all been sold since 2010. In the past two years, the astronomical selling prices of “holy grail” books like Action Comics No. 1 and Detective Comics No. 27 — powered at least in part by Hollywood cache — have triggered a boom in the comic book collectors’ market. Buyer interest shows no signs of slowing for first editions and other high-profile comics from long ago.

“With comic books, it’s partly a function of just a couple books that went on the market and went for sensational prices and that prompted other people who were just sort of holding on to these with no real motivation to sell to say, ‘Well if that one sold for that amount, then I guess I’m ready to sell mine after all,’” Sandoval said. “That was really the major factor.”

That and pure nostalgia. As the decades pass, new generations of people who grew up reading and loving comics reach a point where they want to revisit something they enjoyed when they were young, and finally possess the means to acquire it, said Michael Zapcic. A sort of living comic book encyclopedia who appears on AMC show Comic Book Men, Zapcic helps run Kevin Smith’s store Jay and Silent Bob’s Secret Stash, where he evaluates prized possessions that customers are trying to unload.

“Everyone hears about grandma, or their mother, throwing away their comic book collection from when they were a kid — I think that’s what drives prices up a little bit as well,” Zapcic told Wired. “People when they get to a certain age want to buy back pieces of their childhood, and that’s what keeps us in business — that and people who never outgrew the love of comic books.”

Nostalgia is one thing, but dropping more than $2 million on a copy of Action Comics #1 — which contains the first appearance of Superman and holds the current record, according to GPAnalysis, which tracks comics auctions and sales — is another. So it’s hard not to wonder if the prices will eventually flat-line or taper off. Both Zapcic and Sandoval seem to think the prices will at least maintain current levels.
Their reasoning sounds hard to believe until they explain why. It’s estimated that fewer than 100 copies of Action Comics No. 1 exist, Zapcic said, and only a few of those are in the kind of excellent condition that brings in multimillion-dollar bids. (The copy that sold for $2,161,000 in 2011 was graded 9.0 by the Certified Guaranty Company, the third-party institution that determines the overall quality of a given comic book.) Likewise, few copies of 1939′s Detective Comics #27, which contains the first appearance of Batman, are expected to surface.

When it comes to original artwork used for covers or inside panels, many of the creators of such historic comics — heavyweights like Bob Kane, Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster — have passed away, making their contributions to the classic books part of comics’ enduring legacy.
“In a way, these are almost like Rembrandts or Picassos,” Zapcic said. “Because these are the last 100 that you’ll ever see of these, I don’t think the price will ever really go down. However, I don’t know how much [higher the prices] could go.”

In fact, comic book artists’ original panels are starting to bring in the same big bucks as the comics themselves: In May of last year, an original Frank Miller splash page from The Dark Knight Returns got an astounding $448,125 at auction. Then the sale was quickly surpassed when a piece of Todd McFarlane art from The Amazing Spider-Man No. 328 went for $657,250.

Those kinds of auctions have led to a big jump in the value of original art. “It’s not uncommon for us, at all, to sell a piece for $30,000 that somebody bought for 30 bucks in 1980,” Sandoval said. The numbers are obviously getting attention: Miller himself put some of his work up for auction earlier this year.

As comic book properties continue to be turned into major movie franchises, it only seems natural that the value of the source material will remain high, though Zapcic and Sandoval differ on what impact summer blockbusters have on prices. Movies might have a big impact on lesser-valued books, but not a huge effect on top-shelf collectibles. Sandoval said that although the Iron Man movies caused an uptick in the values of 1963′s Tales of Suspense No. 39, in which the superhero first appeared (a copy recently sold for $262,900), and in 1968′s The Invincible Iron Man No. 1, “none of the other superhero movies have had the same effect.”

For more moderately priced books, the movies can make a difference. For example, The Invincible Iron Man #55 — a 1973 comic that features the first appearance of Thanos, a Marvel Comics villain that showed up in The Avengers — was a “speculative book” that might have gone for $40 before Joss Whedon’s superhero movie landed in theaters, Zapcic said.
After The Avengers became a smash hit, the comic’s price soared. “I think the last time I checked, it was $275,” Zapcic said.

There’s another factor likely to drive prices higher: With the advent of electronic versions of comics, Zapcic suspects physical print runs will decrease, leading to a whole new reason for scarcity. And Sandoval notes that as comics artists move to creating electronically, there won’t be as many original panels to go around, either.

“Ten years from now, people are going to be clamoring,” Zapcic said, but “as long as there is civilization, there are going to be collectors.”

Saturday, July 21, 2012

It Only Hurts When I Smirk: Collecting and Nothingness





The wake-up call came in the late-eighties when the Fantastic Funnybook Shack of Power, the 100-year old farmhouse turned duplex I lived in, was burgled. It was my comic collecting compadre, Weezo, who dubbed the ramshackle house the FFBSOP, once he saw how packed to the gills it was.
From the age of 10 on, I’d amassed a cornucopia of cardboard boxes and peach crates, each filled to the max with comics, art books, vintage paperbacks, and jazz vinyl. I wasn’t a Collier Brothers-styled hoarder, but I’d sure had a boatload of “pop culture treasures.” Gabe, from next door, once blurted out with concern, “Jesus Christ, Don -- you’re crowdin’ yourself outta here.”
My landlord, Gabe, a septuagenarian, lived in the other half of the Frankenstein-ish duplex, but only part-time, as he and Grace, his wife, made a biannual circuit, driving from Fort Lauderdale to Dallas to Fort Collins, and back again.
The FFBSOP was tucked away in a mostly forgotten, tree-shaded half-lot, screened off from the well-traveled McKinney Avenue by a low-rise, low-rent apartment. One of the Shack’s whopperjawed doors faced an urban decayed alley. When I was at work, the Shack stood as mute and vacant as Chernobyl. Back in those days, there were no trigger-happy “neighborhood watch” volunteers to put a cap in the ass of any trespasser brazen enough to sniff around the perimeter of the FFBSOP.
One weekday, while I was blithely earning next month’s rent, my half of the duplex was burglarized in broad daylight. The perp kicked in the side door, exploding the deadbolt receiver from its door frame. Chunks of molding lay splattered across the dingy linoleum of my kitchen. The sight of the gaping portal nearly sent an embolism speeding to my brain. I swooned. My state-of-the-art Sony Trinitron TV, and Sanyo Betacord had been ripped-off. Dustless shapes on tabletops served as sad reminders of where they once sat. 
My Panasonic stereo receiver was turned 180 degrees as if to be disconnected. Eerily, its cables were still attached. The perp must have been spooked mid-snatch and settled for a quick video score.
Frantically inventorying the crime scene for loss, I saw that my queen-sized mattress had been tossed, but little else had been taken except for my Swiss Army knife --- and all of my underpants.
What the? -- Why boost my skivvies? This absurd discovery frayed my already unraveling calm -- the loss of the tighty-whiteys served as nothing less than a metaphorical Pit Bull tugging at the tire swing of my composure. Was the thief a “Will Break and Enter for Briefs” mendicant who so badly needed underwear that he stole mine? Was he was a freak who felt compelled to wear his victims’ “souvenirs” over his face so as to savor a snootful of any lingering bio-essence? Or was this his clever ploy to make the rip-off seem less suspicious, casual even? As in, “Naw, man, I’m not ripping off these home entertainment electronics. I’m just taking them, along with these dirty undies, to the washateria, so I can watch The Thomas Crown Affair while I launder.”
Cognitive relief came at last when my buddy, the mordant Dunco, pointed out a unifying logic behind the whole crime. “Mango,” he says, “Somewhere in Dallas, during these 100 degree days, there’s a sweat-soaked loser sacked out in a sweltering, hardly-air-conditioned-at-all efficiency, watching almost-impossible-to-find Beta tapes on your TV, while guzzling Pearl Light in your limp Fruit-of-the-Looms.” Dunco had brilliantly reframed the puzzle of the purloined panties in a satisfying gestalt, bringing a sense of closure to the whole unhappy affair.
Still, now that I’d been traumatized by this shocking smash-and-grab, powerful “checking obsessions” set in. What if the thief returns and breaks down the new door after I’ve replaced the electronics --- and rips them off again? What if, this? What if? What? Peat and repeat. The uncertainty was crushing.
Try as I might, I couldn’t stifle my ruminations about checking on the collectibles. All day long, I’d suffer over-the-top compulsions to rush home from work early -- to get there before another deadbeat struck. Such relentless obsessions are an exhausting buzz kill. After two weeks, I formulated my counter-strategy to silence this imp of the mind -- downsize my collection to “the empty set.”
Were Rod Serling, the front man of the Twilight Zone, to intone (ominously) an introduction for my plan, he'd say, “You are about to discover what lies beyond the fifth dimension, beyond the deepest, darkest corner of the imagination – of one Obsessed Collecting Dope’s struggle to prevent the loss of his most important treasure -- his inner-peace.”
In my gedankenexperiment, the FFBSOP is burglarized again (as feared). But after the thief hunts high and low for swag, he soon realizes that the joint is as hollow as Bernie Madoff’s claim on fiduciary duty. There’s nothing in the Funny Book Shack of Power except a copy of Jean-Paul Sartre’s Being and Nothingness.
Later, my bemused pal, Kenno, added his own topper to the thought experiment, “Yeah -- yeah, -- and not only that -- the spine’s split, with the last chapter missing.”
You see, I’d created my very own Dick Tracy’s Crimestoppers’ Textbook tip -- on a paraphrased lyric from Me and Bobby McGee, “Freedom’s just another word for nothing left to steal.”
Fully embracing this paradigm shift of collecting an “empty set,” I sold all of my mid-sixties issues of The Amazing Spider-Man to a delighted Weezo.
Everyone knows the aphorism: “I can’t take it with me when I'm gone.” To which I add: “If I don’t have it, it can’t be stolen.” So now, there's nothing left to steal.
Unless of course, the thieves of the world are foolish enough to rip off a hunk of my uncertainty in the form of a hammered copy of Being and Nothingness.

Monday, June 4, 2012

From the Clearance Shelf: How to Simplify Your Life

Here is another self-help winner. I paid $1.00 for it, and it's got some terrific tips for those of us with too much clutter. (Guilty!) Check out this factoid: Step 1: Your Things. Statisticians say that on average we each own over 10,000 things.

How to Simplify Your Life : Seven Practical Steps to Letting Go of Your Burdens and Living a Happier Life by Werner Tiki Kustenmacher, Lothar Seiwert, and Tiki Kustenmacher.

Practical wisdom on work, money, health, and relationships

The international bestseller How to Simplify Your Life offers concrete advice on achieving happiness in a time of economic contraction and uncertainty. The book explains, in seven steps, how to get rid of unnecessary stuff and unload the burdens of modern life -- and points the way back to what we know is important but have forgotten. By following the path outlined in the book, readers will learn to organize their time (and their desks), change the way they think about money, improve their health and relationships, and find meaning in their lives.

This book shows readers how to:

Eliminate chaos in the workplace
Cut back on activities and slow down
Get rid of money hang-ups and get out of debt
Balance private life with career life
Make room for relationships