Auctioneer Harold Hessel has made his mark on the rue Drouot where, under the paneling of the famous eponymous hotel, the most precious treasures are sold. A world of velvet and old traditions where it is a question of evolving first of all in the manner of a character from a great novel of yesterday, with elegance, but never without overdoing it. An art that Harold Hessel always masters in a suit, and always in navy blue. When he is not busy doing his job under the spotlight of the show Affaire Conclue on France 2, which allows him to indulge in a few eccentricities which, ultimately, suit him rather well.
What place does clothing occupy in your life as an auctioneer?
Clothes are important, because it's always good to be comfortable in life. And having style is not a deal-breaker. However, I'm not a fashion fan in my own right. What interests me more than clothes are objects. That's what I focus all my attention on, paintings, furniture. The auctioneer's job is to stage the object that is to be sold. It's the object that should be the center of attention, not the auctioneer. So you have to know how to remain discreet, not wear outfits that are too flashy. You have to be less elegant than the object, in a way. From this point of view, I see clothes more as a kind of uniform. I like navy blue suits.
Does this uniform say something about your character?
I come from a family of German origin, and some of my ancestors were pastors. Lutherans. Unconsciously, I think I have Lutheran reminiscences. Navy blue is a discreet color, which says something of a certain uprightness, and even of a rigor. It corresponds well to who I am, to my character. Thinking about it, I lack a little audacity. I have never been curious enough to buy red or mustard yellow for my wardrobe. My eccentricity is in my objects. I have at home completely crazy watercolors by a great-great uncle who was a student of the great painter Girodet. Images on the edge of science fiction comics dating from 1810, with dragons, witches and bats.
What role does costume play in the auction environment?
The Hôtel Drouot in Paris is a classic, even very conservative world. People still live there as if they were in the 19th century, a bit like Balzac. Strict suits have always been the rule. It's a code that is not spoken. That's just the way it is. When I started working as an auctioneer's clerk in a small Parisian office, I bought a series of suits with very light shades of navy blue and gray. And then I only wore city shoes. That's what was expected of me. It went very well with this office, where all the furniture was made of mahogany, where everything was very subdued.
Those who win the best prizes are those who remain discreet, who are always at the back of the room, where they are not noticed. There is a kind of bluff there.
But there are exceptions! The famous auctioneer Pierre Cornette de Saint-Cyr, for example, likes to wear colored pants. One color for each day of the week. He was one of the first to do that and, at first, it was seen as a terrible transgression. I also think that our Anglo-Saxon counterparts have a superiority in clothing compared to us French. They have a slightly more marked concern for elegance. But it's not a show-off. It can be seen in the choice of cuts and materials. I have real admiration for my London colleagues.
Are there people in auction rooms whose bidding strength is not suspected because they do not have a particular air?
In the auction room, when you want an object, you don't want to be seen. Those who win the best lots are those who remain discreet, who are always at the back of the room, where they are not noticed. There is a kind of bluff there. These people want to do everything not to excite their competitors in the room. If you are spotted, you attract jealousy, you arouse the envy of others, you take the risk that someone else will outbid you because they think there is a good deal there, when they have no idea what it is. In an auction room, everyone is on the lookout for a good deal, and everyone is on the lookout for each other. Today, major collectors or the most renowned galleries prefer to send agents in their place to bid. We don't necessarily know who these people are. Drouot is a world where we like anonymity.
Is clothing an item for which there are high bids at Drouot?
Until the 1990s, clothing was not really considered by the auction world. It did not interest people. And then in large families, we threw away, or gave to the household, the beautiful old clothes we received as an inheritance. We were not aware of their heritage value. That has changed. Like many other things, we realized that old linen could be worth money and even more than new. So there are more and more fashion sales at Drouot. There is a real craze for vintage things, like wardrobes from the 90s or 80s. Not to wear them, of course, but to exhibit them.
There is a part of dream in it. A garment is a story, a universe.
Three years ago, I sold, as part of an inheritance, a set of knitted sportswear made by Hermès, for playing tennis or going to the beach. The pieces were valued with the help of fashion experts, in the same way that you might call upon an expert in philately or in Far Eastern art. It wasn't easy to estimate, precisely because you don't see that often on the market. 20th century fashion doesn't really have any points of reference. It's much harder to estimate than an old dress or a 19th century parasol found in an attic, pieces that are more commonly found. The starting price for these Hermès clothes ended up being set at around 500 euros for each of them, like a sort of badly cut rib, and they were sold in the auction room for 5,000 euros. The main buyers were museums.
Organizing a clothing sale is expensive. You have to make a special selection, which takes into account the origin and the brands. You can't sell second-hand clothes. Today, there is a real craze for pieces worn by celebrities. When you know that you are selling something by Joséphine Baker or Mistinguette, it provokes a certain wonder, and it doesn't matter if the garment pills. There is an element of dream in that. A garment is a story, a universe.
Finally, can we say that it was on the set of Affaire Conclue that your appearance became, shall we say, more relaxed?
Absolutely. You have to know how to adapt to your audience. For example, I sometimes dress up according to the items to be sold: I can end up wearing a Storm Trooper costume or a bullfighter costume. It makes me laugh. For our Christmas show, I also wear what is called a Christmas sweater every year, with patterns that are always more absurd than the last. It's my sidestep. It's an idea from our producer. I was very reluctant at first. I never found a Christmas sweater beautiful, it wasn't my style at all. And then I got a taste for it, and I think the viewers did too. The uglier the sweater, the more likeable it makes me, I think. I did wear one with flashing lights around an embroidered Christmas tree.