Charles van Sandwyk

Charles and I go back the best part of a decade and from the very beginning I was a fan.

One memorable day he walked into Sotheran’s of Piccadilly, where I worked at the time, looking as distinguished as you like. He was dressed rather like a Victorian gent, complete with waistcoat and pocket watch and, if my memory is not playing tricks, wearing spats.

When he showed me his work, for which he is admired and collected, I fell in love with it and immediately wanted to show it off. So from then on we included his books, etchings, original paintings and various curious pieces of ephemera in our catalogues and filled the shop shelves and walls with them. Customers flocked from all over.

Everything Charles does draws the eye and is produced to the highest possible standards, most significantly his delicate watercolours and drawings and his stately calligraphy. He is meticulous in choosing materials and print processes, and even stands over the presses as they roll out his work. His sympathy for nature and wildlife shows a sensitivity only matched by his feeling for the whimsical and the esoteric.

Modern book production, as we are all too aware, streams from cavernous factories in China, while Charles orchestrates his literal cottage industry from home with just one or two helpers and, in so doing, steadily feeds the worldwide demand for his work.

I am really honoured to represent him in the U.K.