4 minute read
Best of the West by Rod Miller
Best of the West by Western columnist Rod Miller
THIS ONE IS TOO EASY. Every day, when I sit down at my computer to see what the words have to say, sitting on the desk is a worn mouse pad that has been there for decades. My mouse gadget slides around on “The Bucker” by Charles Marion Russell—one of many, many Russell paintings I admire.
To my way of thinking, no one else who painted the Old West—despite all the skilled and talented artists we study and appreciate—measures up to Charlie “Kid” Russell. His more than 4,000 works, including drawings and sketches, paintings in watercolor and oils, and sculptures, capture the spirit and essence of the Old West better than any other works of art. He depicted horses and cattle, wildlife and landscapes, Indians and cowboys, quiet and chaos, and more.
I am particularly drawn to his paintings of cowboys. Real, working cowboys. Like any true artist, while there is realism in his paintings, it is Russell’s interpretation of reality that matters. It is the essence, the spirit, the invisible aspects of cowboy life he captures that make his paintings shine. Sure, he demonstrates skill in design and composition, in light and shadow, in hue and shade of color, in detail and focus. But you can see, in Russell’s paintings, things that aren’t even there—you sense what happened before, and imagine what will happen next. His paintings tell stories. And while he shows us the middle chapter, we can read the beginning and end, as well.
It is also evident that Russell knew cowboys. He was more than just an observer. He showed us variations in dress and tack true to the times and places. His horses are horses—not romanticized, mythical, larger-than-life creatures, but ordinary, everyday working cow horses. While he painted quiet times, such as “Laugh Kills Lonesome,” “Men of the Open Range,” and “Waiting for a Chinook,” he created many more action-packed depictions of cowboy work. Horses that buck and absconding cattle are favorite subjects. Which is no surprise, given that “wrecks” are always topics of cowboy conversation.
Russell’s paintings seize moments of peak action, but it would be wrong to say he freezes time. Rather, the viewer—especially those with intimate experience of cowboy life—feels the motion, senses the stress and strain, realizes the exhilaration of a dicey situation.
Many of Russell’s scenes intimate a pending painful outcome—captured outlaws in “Call of the Law,” gunplay in “Smoke of a .45.” But there is humor in tumult and turmoil as well, as in “Bronc to Breakfast” and “The Tenderfoot.” And there is the adrenaline rush cowboys feel upon seeing paintings like “Buccaroos,” “A Bad Hoss,” and “The Herd Quitter.”
Russell was born in 1864 in St. Louis, Missouri. He practiced art from a young age, and his interest in the West came early as well. Books on the subject heightened his interest, as did the comings and goings he witnessed of trappers and traders and cowhands who happened along. He left school at sixteen, bound for Montana and a job on a sheep ranch. Outside of family visits, Montana was home for the rest of his life.
Russell soon abandoned the woolies and took up cowboying on a cattle ranch. He unspooled his bedroll in a number of bunkhouses as he learned the cowboy trade, learning from cowboys who migrated to Montana from across the country—and his knowledge of regional variations in cowboy apparel and horse furniture is evident in his art.
The cow-killing winter of 1886-1887 found Russell working as foreman on a ranch in the Judith Basin. In response to a letter from the owner asking how the livestock were faring, Russell returned a postcard with a watercolor painting of a bony bovine, tail frozen off to a stub, hock-deep in snow, and stalked by wolves. The caption, “Waiting for a chinook—the last of 5000,” told the tale.
His employer showed that tiny postcard around and put it on display in a store window. The result was commissions for paintings that got Russell out of the cowboy business and launched his career as an artist.
Russell was a gregarious sort, and made friends with other Western artists, as well as movie makers and actors. He even employed “The Dean of Western Writers,” Wallace Stegner, as a boy, to mow his lawn. I suspect all those creative types he associated with would agree that when it comes to painting cowboy life, Charlie Russell was the Best of the West.
—Rod Miller is a four-time winner and six-time finalist for the Western Writers of America Spur Award. He is also winner and finalist for the Western Fictioneers Peacemaker Award. Information about his fiction, nonfiction, and poetry can be found at www.writerRodMiller.com.