This week in charts
Online shopping
10-year government bond yields by country
U.S. median single-family house size
U.S. electric vehicle sales
E.U. electric vehicle sales
U.S. obesity & diabetes rates
U.S. weight-loss injectables
Technology weight – U.S. equity indexes
Current vs. historical P/E valuations – U.S. equity indexes
U.S. manufacturing jobs
Household wealth by source
When Your Private Fund Turns $1 into 60 Cents
For all fund investors, NAV is supposed to stand for “net asset value.” For some, however, it’s turning out to mean “not actual value.”
That’s the hard lesson of recent weeks when some funds that invest in private assets have sought to go public. Prices that investors expected to be stable have collapsed as soon as the funds were exposed to public markets.
These transitions from private to public cast doubt on Wall Street’s narrative that investors can have their cake and eat it, too. You can have the mild price fluctuations of nontraded assets, or you can have access to your money whenever you want—but it’s turning out that you can’t have both.
And this situation bolsters arguments that asset values in private-markets funds don’t always reflect reality.
On Dec. 16, what used to be a nontraded portfolio called Bluerock Total Income+ Real Estate Fund began trading on the New York Stock Exchange as the Bluerock Private Real Estate Fund. With a stated net asset value of $24.36 a share, the fund closed at a market price of $14.70—a 39.7% discount from NAV. For every dollar the fund manager said your shares were worth at 9:30 a.m., the stock market was willing to pay you only 60 cents by 4 p.m.
On Nov. 13, another nontraded investment, FS Specialty Lending Fund, went public at a net asset value of $18.67—and closed the day at $14, a 25% discount from NAV.
Meanwhile, other private portfolios seeking to go public have gotten stymied by their investors.
On Dec. 16, shareholders at Priority Income Fund’s annual meeting rejected a proposal for the fund to offer stock to the public next year with a 270-day period in which existing investors wouldn’t be able to sell all their shares.
In November, Blue Owl Capital aborted a plan to merge one of its private funds into an NYSE-listed vehicle that trades at about a 20% discount to NAV.
You don’t need a class in economics to know the most fundamental fact about prices: Any asset is only worth what you can get someone else to pay you for it.
This week’s fun find
The Most Magical, Moving Four Minutes in Music
There are four minutes of Ravel that I hope I never get over.
“Le Jardin Féerique,” usually translated as the enchanted or fairy garden, barely breathes into life as the apotheosis of the childhood stories that Ravel gathered under the title “Ma Mère l’Oye,” or “Mother Goose.” Ravel wrote nothing more magical, and perhaps nothing so moving.
It begins in a hushed, hesitant atmosphere, an ineffably fragile melody sighing to a gentle, poetic accompaniment. Soon, that gives way to a tender duet for solo violin and viola, a halo of woodwinds around them, the strum of a harp and the chime of a celesta behind. Slowly the music drifts upward, melting back into the initial melody as it gathers itself to end in incandescent, irresistible C major, percussion sparkling through the string canopy of your dreams.
“I so enjoy looking at the faces of the musicians when they’re producing all that sound,” the conductor and composer Esa-Pekka Salonen said in an interview. “It is just a deep, deep, deep, spiritual, sensual, tactile pleasure. I think every composer, deep down, would like to be able to do something like that.”
Esa-Pekka Salonen leading the Berlin Philharmonic in “Ma Mère l’Oye,” recorded for the orchestra’s Digital Concert Hall.
For many listeners, “Le Jardin Féerique” casts an unusual spell. Why?
Often said to be a childlike man himself, Ravel wrote the first of the “Ma Mère” pieces, “Pavane de la Belle au Bois Dormant,” in 1908, as a piano duet about Sleeping Beauty for two young children to whom he told fairy tales. In 1910, he added four more miniatures to make the children a suite, basing three of them on old stories that he quoted in the score, and ending with “Le Jardin Féerique,” which had no such story attached. By 1911, Ravel had orchestrated the suite, and the next year he elaborated it into a ballet as well, his musical garden blooming into a glade for Sleeping Beauty, who awakens at dawn, with Prince Charming close at hand.
