Free The Art of Secrets by Jim Klise

sales records in which the piece is referenced or mentioned. All these details come together to create what is called the artwork’s “narrative,” or provenance—the story of how it was created and what has happened to it since then.
    Authenticating work by Henry Darger is challenging, because the paper trail is, at best, incomplete. He didn’t attend art school, didn’t exhibit or sell his work, didn’t trade or even correspond with friends. The ideal situation would be to establish that this work was part of the collection found by Darger’s landlord upon his death in 1973. That body of work has been extensively catalogued. I regret that these ten watercolors are not part of it. If they were, their value would increase substantially.
    However, as with any artist whose work is emerging, when you consider that there were many years before Darger’s work was discovered and appreciated, things did “go missing.” Items got thrown away. Darger himself may have discarded this album of pictures. It happens more often than you might think. And if/when a piece of this art later reappears, we rely upon the judgment of the community of appraisers to see if it’s “right.” In this case, two young people who have demonstrated little to gain (by authenticity or lack of authenticity) found this volume—the right watercolors in the right condition—in the right neighborhood in the right city. The unique story of their discovery will now become part of the provenance of this particular work. It’s a narrative that Darger collectors will trust. And many of them would be happy to own this collection, despite knowing the uncertainty of its path to the present day.
    Darger was meticulous about labeling his illustrations. Typically we see hand-printed, penciled notes on his work. He has not written anything on these pages. Possibly these are rudimentary sketches—ideas for something he was planning to do on a larger scale—and that will affect its value to collectors, too.
    At this time, however, we are pleased to confirm with a high degree of confidence that this is authentic, second-level work by Henry Darger (1892–1973). A conservative estimate of the value of the collection would be $350,000–$450,000. Of course, at a well-advertised auction, it could sell for much more. Insurance value: $550,000.
    I have attached the necessary paperwork, which should remain with this work going forward.
    Congratulations, and thank you again for the privilege of seeing and appraising this important work.

Steve Davinski, senior,
    continues his conversation with the reporter.
    Okay, so I was off by half a million. Still, five hundred fifty K is a major stack of coin, am I right?
    At that point, the Spoons took out an insurance policy on the artwork, and the album got locked up tight in the gym office. This helped us all to breathe a little easier, you know? Knowing everything was safe. My dad was happy. Mr. Delacroix was happy.
    The only freaky part is, the Spoons still want to donate the artwork to the auction. It’s unbelievable. People are saying, “Are you effing nuts? You can’t donate this thing. That money can change your life!”
    And Kevin’s like, “But the whole point was to raise money for the Khans. Maybe it sounds crazy, but it’s what we’re going to do.”
    At practice the other day, I heard Coach P telling Kevin, “You have college tuition ahead, a house to buy someday. Trust me, kid, it’s one thing to be generous, and it’s another to be a moron.” Kevin really respects the coach, but even she couldn’t convince him.
    Kevin’s attitude is that his family is financially comfortable. He feels “fortunate.” All I’ve heard is that Mr. Spoon, whoever he was, has been dead a while. He left the kids with a trust fund. I’m thinking college costs are taken care of, you know? And so