Ever the showman, Auction House London’s Andrew Binstock went from stand-up comedy to auctioneer’s podium. He talks to Charlotte Santry. Portraits by Matthew Joseph
A spot health and safety inspection of the Everyman Cinema, NW3, last year, found 500 auction-goers crammed into a room with a capacity for 180. Auction House London’s attendees were unceremoniously jostled out of the aisles and into the foyer, and the whole episode was caught by Homes Under the Hammer.
Unsurprisingly, the auction was forced to find a new venue.
The speed with which AHL outgrew its sale room, after doubling its volumes in a year, is partly behind its reputation as a young upstart in a scene dominated by long-established players. But only partly.
Step forward AHL director and auctioneer Andrew Binstock. A decade younger than most of his peers at age 40, but determined to shake up what he calls the “elderly fraternity of the auctions world” with his unashamed ambition and “ruthless” approach to selling.
In a West Hampstead café, Binstock lists what he sees as the sector’s failings. For one thing, many of his competitors “don’t get this ideology that we have brought to auctions, which is a hunger, an appetite for success, a way of doing business that is a little bit ruthless when it needs to be”, he argues.
Too many auctioneers are “scared” to give “brutal” feedback to sellers, including when a reserve price needs to be adjusted downwards after an initial valuation, Binstock believes. The need to avoid the “stigma” of an unsold lot is, he says, “a very basic concept, but they [older auction houses] are so set in their ways by trading like this for 30, 40 years – since time began.”
In the quietly competitive but chummy world of auctions, where debates are more often thrashed out in private members’ clubs, fine-dining restaurants or on the golf course, this kind of open critique riles some in the industry.
But to say Binstock is unafraid of drawing attention to himself would be an understatement. After all, his original plan was to become a stand-up comic.
After completing his accountancy degree at the University of Birmingham, Binstock decided to try his hand at comedy. On the advice of fellow Haberdashers’ Aske’s alumnus Matt Lucas, he booked himself onto a series of unpaid open mic slots. It did not go well. “It’s a really grim life,” says Binstock. “You are sitting around waiting for your slot at 11pm at night, you are on last at some disgusting pub in Holloway – it is horrendous.”
He then took several unpaid roles on TV shows like Points of View, but this proved to be a low point. Binstock says he found himself in the “depressing” position of being “not even the tea boy” and out of the spotlight. His parents suggested it might be time to get a sensible job, and his father recommended the Allsop graduate scheme, to which he applied successfully.
The role saw Binstock travelling around the North West to value and photograph potential lots, which proved to be a vital training ground. His senior colleagues encouraged him to enter an amateur auctioneering competition, and he made it to the finals. “Suddenly I realised that was what I wanted to do,” he recalls. “I wanted to be the guy on the rostrum, at the front of the room, everyone listening to me, and me being the king.” Here was his chance to shine on a different centre stage with “a captivated audience of 500 people, hanging on your every word”.
The jokes still have regular outings in the auction room, providing a “cheeky fix of having a roomful of people finding me amusing for a moment”. He has a distinctive style on the rostrum, using his whole body to express excitement, mock disgust and shock, as if trying to take up as much physical space as possible. Bids are growled, shouted and sung, his knees bending rhythmically and his arms flailing in Russell Brand-esque flourishes.
But Binstock did not hone these auctioneering skills at Allsop; the graduate job increasingly involved frequent overnight stays in unglamorous locations around Burnley, Bolton and Manchester. He left to become an investment agent for Greene & Co on an £8,000 basic salary, requiring a “dog-eat-dog aggression” that quickly became wearing.
After seven months, Binstock quit, spending a couple of years buying and selling properties, and setting up a website, auctionyourproperty.com, which, as Binstock is fond of saying, was “10 years ahead of its time”. These days Binstock is unexcited by internet auctions, saying he prefers to see the “balls of their [bidders’] eyes”.
But he was itching to get back into auctions. He cold-called James Kersh, auction director at Liverpool-based Sutton Kersh, to gauge his interest in opening a London branch. By “amazing fate and fluke”, according to Binstock, Kersh’s auctioneer had handed in his notice that week, and Binstock was invited to fill his shoes.
There was a slight problem: Binstock had sold novelty items at charity auctions, but was not a professional property auctioneer – not that he was in any rush to admit that. He blagged his way through, achieving a near 100% success rate on his first sale; fortunately, it was 2006, and bids were flying out of the room. “I did my first ever professional auction under a complete false pretence,” he admits. The following year, Sutton Kersh Binstock was born.
It survived the crash – just. Then, in 2010, Binstock met Auction House UK director Bryan Baxter at an industry lunch and phoned the next day to ask whether he had considered opening a London branch. A few months later, Binstock was heading the AHL office and the first sale in March 2011 raised £3.2m from 28 lots, with a 90% success rate.
It took a while to get the formula right. Moving from Barnet to St John’s Wood was essential to attract certain clients. As Binstock puts it: “It was like an A-list movie star being in a B-list movie: even if there is one good actor, if the whole story is crap, it is still a crap movie.” He may not win prizes for modesty, but displays a warmth – signing off e-mails with multiple kisses – that suggests a strong desire to be liked.
Whether or not this is effective, most of his fellow auctioneers seem to respect his achievements. Sales at last October’s auction at The Landmark Hotel, NW1, reached £26.5m from 80 lots.
Binstock puts AHL’s performance largely down to starting small and being able to expand his staff to 11 full-timers. He has arguably also benefited from the London property boom, which he sees spreading outwards. “There are no bad areas,” he says, highlighting the growing popularity of postcodes in Croydon, south-east London, the Surrey borders, Enfield and Hertfordshire. Binstock’s sights are now set on a 150-lot catalogue.
Despite the prestigious postcode of AHL’s offices, and a prominent but incongruous photo of Binstock chatting to Prince Charles and Michael Barrymore, it is a cramped space for an expanding empire. AHL has signed the lease on a 2,000 sq ft office in a mews street in Hampstead, NW3. It is the “A-list” backdrop Binstock has dreamed of. Time will tell if AHL lives up to its new setting.
Profile: Andrew Binstock
- Born: London
- Education: University of Birmingham, accounting degree
- Career:
- 1999-2001: Allsop
- 2001-2006: Greene & Co investment agency, and various solo property projects
- 2006-present: Sutton Kersh auctioneer, becomes Sutton Kersh Binstock director
- 2011-present: Auction House London, director and auctioneer
- Family: Married with two children, Jessie (9) and Jack (6)
- Other interests: Playing and watching (Chelsea FC) football, motorbikes, snowboarding
