The Enemy's Tracks by Charles Marion Russell

 Not all that long ago, I was sitting at home, self-quarantined both due to the pandemic and recovering from major surgery, and not so surprisingly bored to tears. I became somewhat manic with my shopping, searching the online auction sites constantly using broader and broader search terms and bidding on the good stuff. When I saw this pop up for auction, I placed what I think of as an I-want-to-own-it bid. After a flurry of last second bids, I brought it home for what (to me) was a reasonable price. Little did I know...

While I am no scholar of the works of Charles Marion Russell, I consider myself to be a fair judge of restrikes of his bronzes. I own many such, several more than I have yet posted about (I buy 'em when I find 'em going for cheap money). Now, I have a bit of a story to tell. Four decades ago, when I was 13, I apprenticed in a clock repair shop. I've worked with antique brass and bronze for most of my life. I have a pretty good eye for patina and for the way the specific alloys they used "back then" have aged. I am quite familiar with castings from Roman Bronze Works dating to the first quarter of the last century as well as how the alloy they used should look today. I also have a very good eye and memory for detail. I have seen a TON (likely several tons by weight) of restrikes of Russell's works, and while I may not have seen all of his pieces that have been repopped, I feel like I've run across the majority of them. One thing that I've noticed when it comes to Russell's larger, more complex pieces, is that if an original was molded up to make a surmoulage (a second-generation casting created from an existing bronze casting, not from the original sculpture or mold), it would not have been cut to pieces to be cast and welded together in the manner of the originals. This makes the castings rather sloppy. My copy of Scalp Dancer is a prime example of this. Because bronze shrinks by up to 15% as it cools, surmoulages are always smaller in all dimensions than the original castings from which they were made. Simply measuring your bronze then comparing the numbers to those quoted by the museums that own known original castings makes for an easy way to tell if your sculpture is original or a copy. However, most of the larger "Russell" bronzes that I see on the market are not directly copied by molding up an original bronze. Instead, a foreign artist looks at pictures and creates something similar to the original, a pastiche, which is then signed with Russell's name (not infrequently misspelled, too). Those are true fakes - Russell had no hand in their creation, only serving as inspiration for copyists.

The moment that I saw this bronze listed, I knew that it was neither a surmoulage nor a fake. The listing header was very spartan, along the lines of 'Bronze Sculpture of Indian on Horse' with a description that merely stated the artist's name, the foundry mark and dimensions of the piece. This one was the real deal. It had the correct level of detail, was the correct size in all directions, correct patina, correct color of bronze, correct foundry mark and correct signature. There was no damage to be seen anywhere on the piece. PLUS I have never, ever encountered this piece in any setting other than a museum or book. In the catalogue raisonné of Russell's works (by B. Byron Price), it was stated that at the time of publication, only eight of the fourteen to sixteen cast were known to exist, up to thirteen from Roman Bronze Works and three from California Art Bronze that were cast posthumously (as ordered by Nancy Russell). That left six to eight more "out in the wild," though I am unsure as to how many from each foundry are left outstanding.

 

There was a whole lot of correct about this bronze and nothing that set off even faint alarm bells. Every one of my boxes was being ticked, the more that I looked at it. Now, auction listing pictures don't usually do a bronze sculpture justice, and the images from this auction house were no exception. But I had a feeling that they were an honest representation of the piece. So I bid. Then, on auction day, I swallowed the huge knot in my throat and bid more until I'd won it.

When the package finally arrived (it was shipped to me via USPS "click and ship" - I know, oh the horror), I opened it with no little excitement. As soon as I saw the bronze nestled in the packing, I knew that I had been very right to pursue this one. The condition was and is spectacular. There's not a mark or spot of verdigris on it. Happily, the patina and color of the natural bronze (as seen underneath) are absolutely in keeping with my Stouffer and MacNeil bronzes, all of which had also been cast by RBW in roughly the same time period. Without a doubt, this was one of the "lost" castings that I had read about!

I contacted the auctioneer, both to let them know that it had arrived safely and to inquire about the provenance of the piece. The auctioneer told me that he had anticipated my call. He had suspected that the bronze "might be something special," but he stated that it was "beyond (their) small auction house's ability to properly authenticate and appraise it." The seller wanted to sell however. As a result, they opted for the simple description and left it to prospective buyers to roll the proverbial dice and do their own due diligence. The auctioneer had asked the sellers about the history of the piece. He was told by the seller that it had been bought at a consignment shop in South Carolina back around 1984 and that they knew nothing more about it.

I am undaunted by the missing six or so decades of provenance. This is not unusual with art on the secondary market, especially pieces where the owner has no real idea of the value and is unwilling to do the research. Once my current health issues have passed, I plan to pursue the provenance in greater depth with the various museums and organizations that have Nancy Russell's sales paperwork in hand. Through a process of elimination, it shouldn't be too difficult to track the original purchasers whose bronzes are assumed to be "lost," and hopefully trace one to the time frame where it could have wound up in a Southern consignment shop.

What we have here is a roughly twelve inch tall bronze sculpture of an athletic Piegan or Blood Indian man seated on a horse. He is dressed only in low moccasin boots, a belt wrapped around his waist which holds his quiver of arrows against his rear and the end of a blanket thrown over his left hip which hangs over the side of his horse. The front of his hair sticks straight out in the traditional warrior's forelock, a roach or topknot (no feather) on the back of his head. Cradled in his left arm is a staff which has a scalp tied to the top. It crosses over neck of the horse to point downward on the right. He is leaning over the right side of the horse and looking at tracks on the ground. His expression is both serious and intent. The horse looks quite sinewy, its tail tied up in a manner consistent with Piegan and Blood tradition for a warrior on the warpath. Four horseshoes are branded into its right rump. On the back of the base is the signature "C M Russell" with the artist's buffalo skull sigil. Also on the base, low along the bottom rim under the horse's right rear hoof is the foundry chop mark "Roman Bronze Works N-Y-." All of these details are consistent with the other castings of this work. Along the bottom rim of this bronze there are spots of flattened solder and differences in the patina suggesting that there was originally a piece of sheet metal soldered on, closing off the bottom. This, too, is consistent with the other extant copies, all of which (that I've found) have a fitted piece of tin soldered up underneath. The depth of detail implies to me that it came from somewhere in the middle of the original run. It is a beautiful sculpture!

 

In my research so far, I have found a record which states one copy was returned to Roman Bronze Works by one of the large New York art galleries that handled Russell's works, to have the sheet metal base removed and the bronze prepared to have a marble base mounted. I have not found another copy of this bronze that does not have the tin plate underneath, so I may have the one that got sent back. I'm trying to track the ownership history of that specific bronze, so far with zero luck. Another casting was rejected by the buyer due to poor pour quality (mold slips). Mine has none of the slips that the disappointed buyer wrote about, so I strongly doubt mine is that one. I believe I've seen four or five other copies come up for auction in the last few years. that would leave only two or three unaccounted for, if one includes mine in the list of known castings.

I have approached an auction house about reselling it, though I am awaiting the results of a specialist research and authentication expert to hopefully track the provenance and authenticate it beyond reproach. It has been informally authenticated by several other experts as of this writing (through photos) and has a crazy auction estimate. This is a lot of money to leave on the table, and I'm more than a bit worried that I'll accidentally knock it over and break or bend something. This is one of the rare times that I'll most likely be reselling one of my bronzes before I hit retirement age. It's high enough an estimate that I'm reconsidering holding on to a couple other bronzes in my collection, too. It's a nice dilemma to have.

I am thrilled to have this rare and very valuable bronze by one of the great masters of Western art in my collection. I'm still more than a bit flabbergasted that I actually own it, if only for a short period of time. At least I'll be in the chain of provenance. That's a nice feeling right there, too.

 

Enjoy!

"The Enemy's Tracks" by Charles Marion Russell, bronze, cast by Roman Bronze Works ca. 1920's, front

"The Enemy's Tracks" by Charles Marion Russell, bronze, cast by Roman Bronze Works ca. 1920's, rear

"The Enemy's Tracks" by Charles Marion Russell, bronze, cast by Roman Bronze Works ca. 1920's, signature

"The Enemy's Tracks" by Charles Marion Russell, bronze, cast by Roman Bronze Works ca. 1920's, foundry chop