If he's lately reduced to repairing expensive lawn ornaments, Orr is still known among the art collectors and dealers who've heard of him — and they are legion — as the King of the Pickers. At the height of his game he was, according to Benjamin Storck, an art dealer in Palm Springs, "the single most impressive finder of fine art and important furnishings in the country. Perhaps in the world. He was the picker."
Orr prefers to think of himself as a treasure hunter, but he'll cop to "picker," the term used in the antiques and fine art worlds to describe men and women who scout out valuables at yard sales and then mark them up and sell them to dealers, who in turn mark them up again and sell them to us.
Call them what you like (and some call them vultures), pickers are a dying breed. eBay, the Internet auction site, has seen to that. As has Craigslist. And other Internet auction houses. And PBS's Antiques Roadshow.
"They're killing us off," Orr says. "Nowadays Grandma dies, and her kids put the china on eBay, and they overprice it because they saw some poor slob get a thousand bucks for a teacup on TV. Instead of sticking stuff into a yard sale for $5, they're putting it on eBay for $150. It's the death of my industry, man."
These days, the King of the Pickers would gladly trade his kingdom for a decent oil painting.
He's had them, too. Highly prized Expressionist paintings and dead-mint Alexander Calder rugs and Georg Jensen bracelets, too. Some he's found in galleries or antique stores, then marked up 700 percent and immediately resold. Most he's discovered at flea markets, thrift shops, and estate sales, those halfway houses for fine art that no one recognizes: "ugly" paintings he buys for $50 and resells for $50,000.
It's that Picasso that Orr remembers most, though, the untitled painting that Orr calls Three Wise Men. It's the painting that ignited his career as a picker, in 1979. He thinks about it every day while he's out treasure-hunting, hoping he'll find something as rare and beautiful as that painting, which has an estimated value of $20 million and which, at that estate sale, was priced at $500. The story of the painting that got away is the backdrop of Orr's new no-budget movie, Picking for Picasso, about the fate of the American picker. Both the movie and Orr's story have a happy ending, although neither narrative may be entirely true. At the moment, Orr isn't saying.
"What is true," he says, patting the plaster duck's head as he heads toward his truck, "is there might be treasure out there today. And I'm going to go find out."
Time was, finding treasure at tag sales and junk shops was as easy as getting into your car and heading for them. Michael Robertson, who did most of his own picking for the antique shops he once owned in Phoenix and San Diego, recalls having to get up at 4 in the morning to stand in line at better estate sales, which Robertson calls "a kind of an indoor yard sale, where usually the homeowner has died and everything in the house, even the aspirin in the medicine chest, is for sale.