In the ongoing saga of my so-called Russian silver parade set, one constant appears to be what's called an emotional roller-coaster. Once I had found the piece, I couldn't have it. Once I had decided to make a copy, other pursuits rose up and shoved that aside. An enormous attention-sink and distraction, national in scope, was going on beyond our lives; although writing my new book was the main reason for suspending saddle-making, that other distraction ('chaos and cruelty') contributed so much stress. For eleven months - November 2024 to October 2025 - I repaired tack but made very few new pieces. Then the Russian's most amazing roller-coaster of all happened, my own Great Surprise -- and I still didn't get going on making the copy! Not until February of this year (2026) did the silver saddle creative impasse finally break. One has to wonder at the powers of the Muse.
In this second half of the story, let's start by going back to my experience of Colette's dispersal, first the July 11 (2024) auction and then the long-running FaceBook group. Not only did it set the tone for much of what came next, it is historically interesting.
 |
| D'Arry Jone Frank holding up a silver saddle set |
The July auction, held at D'Arry's house outside Lexington KY, was a roller coaster of its own. When I realized the Russian was not present, I switched targets. I tried to acquire the Darleen Stoddard silver-and-gold set, going up to four figures,
As it turned out, this, plus a number of Western saddles Colette had made herself, would be the only pieces I would obtain from Christie's auctions. The emotional consequences of seeing a lifetime collection slowly pass by and not being able to bid for more than one expensive saddle were... curious. I really think this slow accumulation of frustration had much to do with my plumping for Sassy on December 27, 2024. She was my first post-Erin Stone factory purchase, and she taught me new things about obsession, a separate story. Palomino Insatiety
This case I also managed to contain and solve by promising myself I'd make a copy later.
I have been astounded by many things in the course of the dispersal of Colette's Hoarde. The drive and desire that accumulated it in the first place, and my own capacity to obsess, have been almost embarrassing. Geo's generosity and support, and Christie's devotion in managing the auctions of all that tack, over the many months, have been humbling. Christie's devotion to Colette was clearly to be seen.
Not least, I have been astounded by the artisanry inherent and displayed by that Hoarde. Cary Nelson's ouvre is nothing short of jaw-dropping, Olympian and Michaelangelo-like: the greatest tackmaker, by volume and by skill, this hobby has ever seen.
Last and least, I have been astounded at my own skill, as so many artists are. By my perseverance to find out Who-Dun-It; by my blinding-moment when I resolved to build a copy for myself; and by the quality, over time, of my own contributions to Colette's Hoarde. That skill is best demonstrated in the story of the Fountain Art Deco saddle and Paula O'Keefe's Great Surprise, a sister story (and one this blog may hopefully eventually get to).
In Paula's story the angelic enabler was Eleanor Jones Harvey. In my so-called Russian case the angelic enabler was Christie Partee. A second angel, well I know, was George. My dear one retired in 2022 and I started work on a second book on model tackmaking. Three years later, in 2025, the Young family did not take a spring trip (for various personal reasons, not the book.) After untold effort, on August 30th, it was finally finished and uploaded.
(The horse Christie is holding was the one I happened to take on the trip. The box I am holding is the so-called Russian.)
It was a truly wonderful visit. I learned a great deal. We were both treated to the most delightful hospitality. Amoung other things I photo-documented Christie's model tack collection. (Yeah, yeah, another blog post subject -- ! Not the first one like that I've put on hold either,...) I know I'm repeating the "year-and-a-half with just-one-picture" line, but that really defines the depths of my interest. My pent-up determination to capture every inch of the saddle may be seen in all the "2025" close-ups of these two posts, shot through my magnifying stand lens. There were 49 pix that day of the Russian alone.
 |
| leather lined face ornaments |
Imagine my profound discombobulation when, almost done photo-documenting, Christie calmly announced I could have it!!!
"It is yours. I'm finished with it. I don't want it any more. I set this saddle aside for you,..."
I was stunned. I did not know what to say. This was my own Great Surprise. I refused, at first -- it is very hard to turn around an obsessive-compulsive person, especially after so many months of determination. That must have been a difficult moment for Christie.
Like the good hostess she is, she gave me time, not insisting, but letting me see the logic for myself. "It's done everything I wanted of it," she said; "I have no more need of it now. I don't want it anymore." It took a long time of gentle pursuasion and talking of other things (and all my pix taken, including putting the saddle on Sassy), before the Titanic started to come around.
The final kicker was George. For some reason I could not articulate later (he asked why and I could not answer), I needed to discuss this volte-face with him. Not that I needed his permission, just that every major decision of our lives might be a shared thing. But Geo's answer in this case was an emphatic washing-of-hands. "I have nothing to do with this," he told me. "It's entirely up to you!" Floundering but finding bottom, allowing ever-present greed to blend with true deservingness, I briefly resorted to 'what would be best for the saddle itself?' but the answer was increasingly plain. We tenderly packed it in its crystal-clear carrying box, another gift. This prize was coming home with me.
To want something terribly -- to have it denied -- to come to terms with that, and lay your own plans to replace it, --- And then to have it given to you! I ask ye, is there a more emotional roller coaster than that!?? I had never stopped wanting it. But the entire episode has done a number on my capacity to want something.
It was mine,...
I would still build a silver saddle for myself. This way I'd have the inspiration right in my hands. Nothing is more fun for a tackmaker than to handle and work with a favorite piece. I needed to make my own version, and I would, and this gift would not change that, but made it easier. Here was a project worthy of me and a perfect next piece after having spent 3 1/2 years on braidwork. Also, I hadn't made a saddle in 6 years, since 2020.
Silver saddles are older than braidwork for the TSII. I built my first one, the painted-&-blue-jewelled (yes!), sometime around 1979, after I'd marched in the 1977 Tournament of Roses. Duke's Hackamore, generally considered the braidwork foundation piece, appeared circa 1984. They both came out of the college years (fall 1978 to spring 1982). Choosing between them is exactly like choosing between your own children. You love them equally but they're different from each other.
As my readers know, the copy, TSII #458, is already embarking on its own saga.
No comments:
Post a Comment