Bronze Hound's Art Collection: May 2014

This is my first post about a bronze that I do not own. I just wish I did!

For many years, I have had one statue stuck in my mind. It's one of those "ultimate" pieces, because if I hit the lottery tomorrow, I'd immediately hunt one down and buy it. There is only one monumental sized bronze (though I'd love to be wealthy enough to have my own cast!) and perhaps a handful of maquette sized copies that do come up for sale from time to time but fetch quite high prices. The heroic sized bronze resides on the grounds of the Fruitlands Museum in Harvard, MA, in the very spot it was created to stand. His name is Pumunangwet, which is said to mean "He-Who-Shoots-The-Stars" in Algonquin. He is a youthful Indian dressed in a simple loincloth and moccasins, a lone feather in his braided hair. He stands on a boulder with his legs spread wide, feet firmly planted and body arched back as he lifts his bow in his left hand straight up into the sky. He has apparently just fired an arrow. The statue is almost immaculately sculpted, the line of form and musculature positively flowing from top to bottom. Now, it has been my experience that most statues have a preferable viewing angle - you position them in such a manner as to show off a specific view. Look at them from the wrong direction and the lines of the composition fall apart, or worse, you see where the artist compromised. In my opinion this is one of the rare sculptures that does not. Pumunangwet has NO "bad" sides. No matter which direction or what angle you choose, the line of his body from feet to upraised fist is just perfect. It is also an extremely powerful image, one that can be said to be evocative of many things - striving for excellence and shooting for the stars, or if one takes a more traditional Indian meaning, sending a prayer aloft.

Pumunangwet, or "Pummy" as he's affectionately known by staff at the museum, has a rather interesting history. In 1910, Clara Endicott Sears, a well-educated and wealthy Bostonian who had authored several historical works and would go on to write popular tunes during WWI, purchased a summer estate in the north central Massachusetts town of Harvard (which is nowhere near the college of the same name, by the way). After the purchase, she found out that the small, run down old farmhouse had actually been the site of a famous failed experiment - Bronson Alcott, teacher and father of Louisa May Alcott (author of "Little Women" among others), had attempted to establish a "utopian" community at the site in 1843. It didn't last long, as the founders were thinkers and educators, not farmers or craftsmen. It's all well and good to talk about the benefits of a simpler and self-reliant life, but actually doing so takes some pretty specific knowledge and skills which they didn't have.

When Ms. Sears learned of the history of her new summer estate, her plans changed rather radically for the property. Instead of knocking down the old buildings and having her manse constructed on the hill, over the course of the next four years she had the buildings restored to be opened as a museum. Her research on Alcott and his Transcendentalist experiment brought her into contact with the last (and rather elderly) members of the Shaker community in Harvard (it closed soon after in 1918). She purchased the earliest of their buildings and had it moved to the grounds of her museum to illustrate their history as well, thus making Fruitlands the first Shaker museum in the country.

After a discovery in 1928 of Indian artifacts on her land, Ms. Sears found a deep respect and admiration for Native Americans as well, and a fascination with their history on her land. She began to collect Indian objects from across the country and to develop friendships with experts in the field. She had a building constructed to house her growing collection of Indian artifacts and to tell their story. She also began collecting artwork, specifically paintings from the Hudson River School, and displayed those in her museum as well. But she felt that something was missing...

The death of her mother in August of 1929 brought Clara into closer contact with her cousin Philip Shelton Sears, who later in life had left a successful career in business to concentrate on sculpting, becoming rather well known for his figural sculptures of athletes. During a visit in late 1929, Clara saw Philip's newest sculpture of a young Indian brave, Pumunangwet, in his studio. Deciding in part that there weren't enough heroic statues of Native Americans, Clara immediately purchased the sculpture and commissioned the piece be cast in larger than life size for her museum. Philip was delighted.

(The earliest maquette of Pumunangwet that I've seen was cast in bronze in 1929 and the one and only monumental sized bronze was cast by Gorham Founders in 1930 or 1931.)

Now this is where it gets fun for me. If you've ever seen Philip Shelton Sears' other sculptures of males (and I don't believe he ever sculpted any females), you will quickly note what they have in common - they're all nudes, all youthful and muscular. Yup, every one of them, handsome guys at the peak of youth, health and vitality with not a stitch of clothing to be found. Then there's Pumunangwet, clad only in moccasins and a loincloth that suspiciously (and rather famously) only covers the front bits, leaving his rather shapely derriere hanging out in the breeze. That flap is about the most clothing any of his sculptures wear, with the exception of one - more about that later. Considering that a real loincloth is not just a flap in the front but a cloth that runs between the legs and is draped over a cord around the waist both front AND back (kind of like early underwear, don'tcha know), this little flap in the front with its rather impressive bulge made me suspicious. I believe that Philip Sears originally sculpted Pumunangwet as a nude and that Clara didn't pick up on it when she first saw the small sculpture in the studio in 1929.

Everything I have read or seen about Clara Sears leads me to believe that she was a generally pleasant and nice person who had a desire to preserve the past and the generosity to do it. Yet at the same time, she was a lady of her times, progressive yet quite well bred and proper, a true Boston Brahmin, a wealthy matron of society yet highly discreet in personal matters, an enlightened aristocrat. She maintained many "friendships" that crossed boundaries of class and station throughout her life, as long as "proprieties" were maintained and one did not attempt to become "presumptuous." While I have no direct proof of this, I'm absolutely certain that when Philip informed his cousin that Pumunangwet was finished and ready for her approval, what Clara found when the statue was delivered and installed caused her no small amount of dismay. There, in his full glory, stood her "heroically proportioned" Indian in the "classical" style, arm stretched to the sky and only a small flap keeping the rest of him from being bare to the world, and if you looked closely, even that was only a nod to propriety. She had ordered Pumunangwet be mounted on a boulder of local stone, thus changing the angle at which he was to be viewed and unwittingly exposing his "secrets" when viewed from behind, especially if one was of a shorter stature like Clara. And Philip, who used live models when sculpting, obviously took the term "heroic sized" quite seriously, if you know what I mean. In thinking on it, in order to maintain the unity and clarity of line, it's my opinion that Pummy would have to have been rather, um, "well endowed" if he were to "hang" at a complementary angle to the rest of his body while maintaining anatomical correctness, otherwise he'd "stick out" rather jarringly. All of this must have hit Clara like a ton of bricks. After all, the guests had been invited, notices sent and the party planned to the minute. Nothing to do but swallow and go forward...

There still exists a black and white home movie of the 1931 unveiling of Pumunangwet. Sioux Chief Buffalo Bear, the guest of honor brought in especially for the unveiling, said a blessing and passed the peace pipe around, speeches were made and the striped sheet was pulled off of the magnificent new monument (note that the guests were all standing around the front of the statue, not the back), and the world got its first real look at the nearly naked Indian. Philip was photographed (I know I saved it somewhere) with Clara and the Chief in front of the unveiled statue. Clara has a rather curious look on her face - she's clearly not in a great mood. Considering this was a moment of some triumph for her, this is rather curious, but perhaps can be explained by a closer viewing of the film. If one looks carefully, when the sheet is dropped, no one in the rather sizable audience (or among the Indians, for that matter), applauded. In fact, it looks like there was a moment of silence - this is confirmed in contemporary writings of the event which described a "sort of hushed surprise." I think the audience was quite shocked. One can only imagine what the response would have been had that loincloth NOT been added!

The next monumental statue completed by Philip for the museum grounds was Wo-Peen "The Dreamer". Noted San Ildefonso artist Louis Wo-Peen Gonzales (1909-1990), who had danced at the opening of the Indian Museum a few years before and met Philip Sears there, modeled for it shortly before he lost his right hand in a hunting accident. Clara again purchased the statue a few years later and had it cast in monumental size as well. The unveiling of Wo-Peen was also cause for a celebration and powwow, during which Clara was again testy and out of sorts. These were the only commissions that Philip completed for Clara. Rather says something, no?

I find the whole thing to be terrifically amusing, the aristocratic society matron who gets more than she bargained for, and from a member of her own family no less. And one can't argue against the statue either, it's a masterful, beautiful and powerful work, even if it isn't exactly discreet. This is exactly the type of situation that makes me laugh. So, these thoughts and suspicions well in mind, I decided to visit Pumunangwet at Fruitlands and find out for myself if he had indeed been sculpted as a nude and then "covered up".

I found myself in Harvard on a very cold day in late November a couple years ago. The museum was closed for the season but the grounds were still open, sort of. I had it on good authority that I was welcome to stroll the grounds but that I probably wouldn't be able to photograph the statue. Usually they cover the sculptures for the winter (and they take EXCELLENT care of their sculptures, I must say), but as the museum had only recently closed, Pumunangwet was still uncovered. I parked in the museum lot and no one challenged me as I walked to the sculpture nor as I spent the next couple hours photographing it from some distant and some embarrassingly close angles. I captured him in the late afternoon and twilight from many different angles, most never photographed before (or at least those photos have never been publicly shared), in an attempt to capture as many of the details of this magnificent sculpture as I could. And yes, I can say without a doubt, Pumunangwet was sculpted as an anatomically correct nude, and the bulge in the loincloth does indeed hint at his "heroic" proportions. I have photographic proof! Now I REALLY chuckle when I see it. Poor Clara, caught between propriety and artistic integrity. Though perhaps she had the last laugh of all. Since the unveiling, Pumunangwet has garnered international fame as a symbol of striving for excellence. Shoot for the stars!

I do believe that once Pummy was unveiled and met with general acclaim, she came to view the statue favorably. A drawing of Pummy was stamped in gold leaf on the first edition of her 1935 book "Great Powwow," about King Philip's War.

While I have not had the fortune to purchase a maquette of Pumunangwet (though some day I will, mark my words), I have, however, managed to score a few vintage images of this lovely statue. The first two are postcards by the Artvue Company from the early 1930's, perhaps the first professional photographs of this statue that were taken. I had the extreme good fortune to purchase both of the manufacturer's copies of the postcards which came with the original photographic negatives! That means I'm the only one in the world who has the original images on the original developed film from which these cards were made. Amazing! These are rather important, too - in the march of time since these shots were taken, the museum has added a building and a parking lot on the hill above the statue. It is impossible today to take the same shots without the modern world cluttering up the background. I've scanned both the cards and negatives. The scans begin below my photos.

A maquette of Pumunangwet was displayed at the 1933-34 Worlds Fair in Chicago, in the Hall of Science near the balcony overlooking the south lagoon. He garnered much interest and attention and was thought to have been "lost" after the conclusion of the Fair. I have an original stereoview image of the statue, the scan of which is below the Artvue postcards.

I've also managed to acquire yet another antique postcard of Pumunangwet, this time from the Meridan Gravure Company of Meridan, Connecticut. This postcard also dates from the 1930's, as the later building behind the statue is not yet there. The postcard is in excellent condition. It's the last pair of images below.

Be aware, while the last couple of my photos might seem a bit rude, this statue has been on outdoor public display for over eighty years. Anyone with the desire to see it can go to Fruitlands and experience it for themselves. I merely offer these shots as proof of my theory that Pumunangwet was originally sculpted as a nude. If you think you might find this offensive, go no further.

All that being said, if you're reading this and you have a bronze of Pumunangwet that you'd like to sell to the very good home of a very poor collector who will truly treasure it, please let me know! I can make payments... ;)

Pumunangwet by Philip Shelton Sears, 1931, Fruitlands Museum - from the entrance

Pumunangwet by Philip Shelton Sears, 1931, Fruitlands Museum - full body

Pumunangwet by Philip Shelton Sears, 1931, Fruitlands Museum - closer shot of front upper body

Pumunangwet by Philip Shelton Sears, 1931, Fruitlands Museum - closer shot of lower front body

Pumunangwet by Philip Shelton Sears, 1931, Fruitlands Museum - full body from right rear

Pumunangwet by Philip Shelton Sears, 1931, Fruitlands Museum - right rear close up, perfect line of form though it must be chilly

Pumunangwet by Philip Shelton Sears, 1931, Fruitlands Museum - left rear, almost sunset

Pumunangwet by Philip Shelton Sears, 1931, Fruitlands Museum - left, full body

Pumunangwet by Philip Shelton Sears, 1931, Fruitlands Museum - right side, full body, easy shot to remove background clutter

Pumunangwet by Philip Shelton Sears, 1931, Fruitlands Museum - right side, full body with boulder

Pumunangwet by Philip Shelton Sears, 1931, Fruitlands Museum - right side, full body, perfect light on this one

Pumunangwet by Philip Shelton Sears, 1931, Fruitlands Museum - back close up, love the line of the spine and the musculature

Pumunangwet by Philip Shelton Sears, 1931, Fruitlands Museum - proof 1 - look under the obvious and against the loincloth and you'll see a shadow - yes, that is...