Perhaps the most spectacular—certainly the most expensive—piece of furniture ever sold is being offered in London. In New York, meanwhile, a large Roman cameo and a dazzling Sargent are the star lots

Apollo, Dec, 2004 by Susan Moore

'Masterpiece' is a much abused word, not least in the art business. But on 9 December, Christie's London offer one such stupendous, peerless piece, the Badminton cabinet. Alvar Gonzalez Palacios, the distinguished furniture historian, describes it as 'the last great work of art made in Florence under the Medici' and also as 'the most spectacular piece of furniture in private hands'. Spectacular it certainly is, standing almost four metres high and its monumental ebony-veneered architectural form articulated and enriched by lavish ormolu mounts, pietra dura panels depicting birds amid sprays of flowers, and pilasters panelled with lapis lazuli and Sicilian red jasper. At each corner stand gilt-bronze figures representing the four seasons, and surmounting all of this magnificent profusion and above a clock cabinet bordered by ormolu swags encrusted with even more semi-precious hardstones, is a resplendent Beaufort coat-of-arms. Far more than a remarkable piece of furniture, it is also a bravura statement of dynastic intent. This tour-de-force was commissioned from the Grand Ducal Workshops by the 3rd Duke of Beaufort, probably during his visit to Florence in 1726. That in itself is unusual enough, for only very rarely did the workshops produce pieces for anyone other than the Grand Duke, even if they were intended as gifts. Remarkably, it is the largest piece of furniture produced by the Grand Ducal Workshops in its entire history and probably its most splendid (the Duke's agent requested additional gilt-bronze)--little wonder then that the piece took years to complete (it was shipped in 1732) and would have involved around 30 different craftsmen. The piece probably gave its name to the Cabinet Room at Badminton House, Gloucestershire, and it remained at the house until the estate trustees consigned it to Christie's in 1990. Then it fetched an astounding 8.58 million [pounds sterling], a record price for any piece of furniture or applied arts. It was bought, in person, by the American baby powder heiress Mrs Barbara Piasecka Johnson.

Although an export licence was deferred in order to allow the V&A the opportunity of raising funds to save the cabinet for the nation--it represents, after all, one of the grandest acts of patronage of eighteenth-century England--the cabinet eventually made its way across the Atlantic. Now it returns, if anything, better and more intriguing than ever. Mrs Johnson had the piece conserved by British restorers Hatfields, the cleaning of the gilt-bronze mounts subtly changing the relationship between them and the pietra dura and ebony and restoring the balance of the whole piece. It also transpired that the biggest pietra dura panels were signed and dated 1720, suggesting that the piece had already been begun and that the 19-year-old Duke was permitted, for whatever reason, to take on and also further enhance the original commission. Christie's is effectively now offering it at for the same amount that it brought in 1990--expecting it to fetch 'in excess of 8m [pounds sterling]'.

If not precisely a masterpiece, John Singer Sargent's Group with parasols (A siesta) is a thrilling picture. As Richard Ormond puts it: 'there are few more dazziing tours-de-force by Sargent'. It dates from 1905 and a period when the artist took to passing his holidays painting and travelling on the Continent, often dividing his time between the Swiss Alps during the hot summer months and the big Italian cities during autumn. He took as his models selected travelling companions and close members of his family, leading one cousin to describe these paintings and waterdours as Sargent's 'painted diaries'. Certainly, there is a startling intimacy--no doubt the Victorians would say impropriety--about this image of sprawling men and women resting or sleeping off their picnic in the sun, using one another's laps for pillows, their poses more or less abandoned in the sultry midday heat. It is a picture that is at once casual and strikingly direct.

For this scene is boldly painted and dramatically cropped, the dynamic energy of the brushwork almost having a life of its own. The composition is reduced and concentrated into a richly textured surface pattern of impasted pigment and enlivened by the contrasts of dappled sunlight and shade. The painting comes to the block at Sotheby's on 1 December as part of the Rita and Daniel Fraad collection of American art, the most valuable ever to come to auction. Its seventy-nine lots--of paintings, watercolours, drawings and prints--dispersed through various sales are expected to total well over $30 million, the Sargent, its star piece, some $9m-$12m.

On 10 December, meanwhile, Christie's New York offers another gem of the stonecutter's art, once again offered by a us private owner by way one of the grandest English aristocratic collections. This is a whopper of a Roman onyx cameo portrait of the Emperor Claudius of around AD 41-54 which once belonged to George Spencer, 4th Duke of Marlborough and remained in his family until 1899. Finely sculpted and in profile, the Emperor is portrayed with a high forehead, a prominent nose and thin lips slightly down-turned at the corner. According to Suetonius, even his own mother considered him 'a monster, a man whom Mother Nature had begun to work upon but then flung aside' certainly he was possibly involved in the plot to assassinate his nephew Caligula and thus succeed as the fourth emperor of Rome. It is believed that in order to distinguish himself visually from his hated predecessor, his portraits were made far more realistic. Although more imperial cameos appear to have been made during this period than in any other, examples of this size (7.6 cm long) and quality are extraordinary market rarities. This one is expected to fetch $300,000-$500,000.