Annamaria Edelstein, who has died aged 89, was the brain behind the British Rail Pension Fund’s astonishing art collection in the 1970s, the largest systematic experiment in art-as-an-investment.
The idea of buying art as an inflation-proof alternative to stocks and shares had gained traction in the 1960s, in response to English stagflation and an eye-catching series of international art auctions in London, cultivated by Peter Wilson, the dynamic chairman of Sotheby’s. In 1966 Wilson told the BBC’s Money Programme that “works of art have proved to be the best investment, better than the majority of stocks and shares in the last 30 years”, and launched the Times-Sotheby’s Index to give a scientific-seeming framework for collecting art for profit.
British Rail rose to the bait. Christopher Lewin, one of the investment advisors for their pension fund, was looking for a hedge against inflation of over 15 per cent in the 1970s. He approached the publicity-savvy Wilson at Sotheby’s, who jumped at the opportunity of selling to a well-funded new client.
Lewin, however, was shrewd enough to insist on an independent director of the fund, as he didn’t want Sotheby’s shovelling any old stuff in his direction. Wilson recommended Annamaria Edelstein, editor of Art at Auction, Sotheby’s annual illustrated survey of the art market, which she had transformed into a more glamorous publication.
Highly intelligent, financially literate, strong-willed and fluent in four languages, Annamaria Edelstein turned out to be an inspired choice for the British Rail collecting role, able to keep the acquisition programme high-quality while holding her own against hard-nosed commercial dealers. Her time at Art at Auction, liaising with the departmental experts, had given her the art education she had foregone for accountancy as a student in Milan.
Beautifully dressed, with an indefinable Italian chic, she had a reputation for being charming but intimidating, especially to those who had not yet tuned into her dry humour. But when she directed the “beam of her attention”, as one colleague put it, she was irresistible. For her part, she admitted that she was “bloody-minded” but thought it rather “a good characteristic for somebody who had to put a collection together without being influenced by anyone”.
The venture was controversial to some outsiders: mixing the Beauty of Art with grubby commerce. But Annamaria Edelstein made a success of it, both economically and culturally, creating an ideal collection of the finest art across history, akin to the Renaissance concept of “The Paper Museum”.
