New Research Casts Doubts on the Authenticity of the Statue
Was it truly by pure chance that the statue of the Warrior was discovered by an Abruzzese farmer in the locality of “Cinericcio,” just a few kilometers from Capestrano?
It was 1934, and according to the story, Michele Castagna plunged his two-pronged tool into the ground to soften the soil and hit a stone. Continuing to dig, Castagna uncovered the bust of the statue, broken at the knees. Then, he found the large, wide-brimmed helmet, and nearby, the headless torso of a female figure, thought to be either the warrior’s wife or daughter (the so-called Lady). It’s said that the sculpted pieces remained unattended on the ground for about twenty days, and it was the local Carabinieri Commander who first recognized the importance of the discovery, having the largest fragment transported to the town, where it was nicknamed “Lu mammocce,” meaning “the kid” in the local dialect.
A government-led excavation campaign soon began with the aim of recovering the missing parts of the statues and identifying the associated tombs, which were expected to be rich in artifacts. But these expectations were quickly dashed, as none of the tombs contained “the armor that certainly belonged to the deceased and, symbolically, was replicated on the figure, while all were disproportionately poor”, as reported in contemporary chronicles.
About twenty inhumation tombs and five cremation tombs were excavated, uncovering the necropolis of Aufinum (modern-day Ofena), an ancient city of the Vestini people.
The pieces of the warrior were found, and the impressive limestone sculpture was reassembled and attributed to Italic craftsmen from the 6th century BCE.
Standing at two meters and nine centimeters tall, it depicts a figure dressed in military garb with arms crossed over the chest. On the head is a parade helmet with a disc, and on the face is a mask, likely funerary. The chest is protected by disc-shaped armor plates held by straps, and in both hands, the figure holds a sword and an axe—symbols of his social status.
In these ninety years of its “new life,” the Warrior of Capestrano has gained widespread fame, becoming one of the symbols of Abruzzo, even appearing (amid some controversy) on the region’s coat of arms. Together with the Lady, the statue is now displayed in the National Archaeological Museum of Abruzzo in Chieti, in an exhibit space designed by Mimmo Paladino.
Yet, the statue could be a fake. And it is an Abruzzese native who sows the seeds of doubt—indeed, almost certainty, in his view. The individual in question is director and journalist Alessio Consorte, who, in his 2022 film “Il Guerriero mi pare Strano” (“The Warrior Seems Strange to Me”), raises the possibility and seeks to open a debate about the statue’s authenticity.
Among Consorte’s most significant discoveries is a document he claims to have reviewed, which could prove the work is a forgery. This document is a letter signed by Antonio Ferrua, the renowned Jesuit archaeologist of the Papal States, who passed away in 2003 at the remarkable age of 101. In the letter, addressed to Abruzzese historian and archaeologist Fulvio Giustizia, Ferrua said he had learned from Monsignor Stanislas Le Grelle, a Vatican Library scribe, that the statue had been fabricated by a Neapolitan antiquarian in collaboration with the farmer Castagna, and then passed off as genuine.
According to Consorte, based on documents in his possession, the operation was carried out to claim the generous reward of 12,500 lire, introduced by Mussolini during the Fascist era to encourage the discovery of the nation’s artistic heritage.
Another detail Consorte considers is the depth at which the statue was found. The ancient tombs unearthed at the Warrior’s site were about four meters deep, whereas the Warrior himself was found just under forty centimeters beneath the surface when the farmer’s plow struck it. This is one of many discrepancies, according to Consorte. Furthermore, the analysis conducted in 2005 by the National Research Council (CNR) on pigment traces found on the statue, when reinterpreted by Consorte, did not reveal any elements indicating prolonged exposure to the atmosphere on its surface. Moreover, the statue lacks traces of phosphorus, “which should be present in significant quantities,” says Consorte, “in a marble block buried for at least 2,200 years.”
However, a review of the restoration reports reveals that the surface of the artifact underwent several rather invasive procedures, including repeated casting and restorations, which were not particularly respectful of the original work.
The statue had been “adjusted,” according to Pico Cellini, a famous restorer and art forgery expert, to “represent the archetype of the Italic warrior.”
As Consorte also notes, just two years after its discovery, the Warrior was exhibited in Rome for the celebrations of the bimillennium of Emperor Augustus’s birth, and this timing seems highly suspicious—enough to raise the possibility of some involvement by the Fascist regime in its creation. To further support this idea, Consorte goes so far as to suggest in his documentary that the Warrior’s face bears a resemblance to that of Benito Mussolini. In fact, the statue’s large headgear is even linked in the film to Mussolini’s Battle for Grain, launched during the regime, where the Duce famously appeared wearing a wide-brimmed straw hat (although the most well-known photo was taken a year later, in 1935). These insinuations led to legal action against Consorte by the regional museums of Abruzzo.
The documentary includes testimonies from Danilo Mazzoleni, professor of Classical and Christian Epigraphy and a student of Father Ferrua, and architect Dario Del Bufalo, a restorer and expert in stone sculpture, who claims that the 1930s in Italy were a period of rampant art forgery, especially of marble statues.
Many such forgeries are still displayed in museums today, sometimes with ambiguous captions, like the Kouros statues at the Metropolitan Museum.
Ultimately, Consorte argues that the Warrior is a hoax, a product of Fascist propaganda.
After the release of the documentary, Alessio Consorte initiated legal proceedings against the Abruzzo Regional Museum Directorate to gain access to records related to the scientific analyses conducted over the years on the statue. The director, determined, wanted to conduct new tests using modern scientific methods, particularly an XRF analysis, a technique that allows for non-destructive analysis of the pigments on the statue and the stone it is made of.
In October 2023, the Abruzzo Regional Museum Directorate rejected Consorte’s request, citing that similar tests had already been conducted in the past. Consorte then requested to see those analyses. However, director Federica Zalabra denied the request, stating it was insufficiently justified. Faced with this further refusal, Consorte appealed to the administrative court (TAR), which ruled in his favor, stating that the Ministry of Culture and the Superintendency could not deny Consorte access to documents related to the statue’s authenticity. Following the TAR ruling, Consorte was provided with only a few photocopies of XRF analyses conducted by the National Research Council (CNR) in 2005 (as mentioned above).
The director has since filed another appeal with the TAR, requesting the appointment of a commissioner to enforce the court’s decision. Meanwhile, the president of the Abruzzo region, Marco Marsilio, has also weighed in on the matter, expressing doubt that anyone would go to the trouble of fabricating such a forgery.
However, Consorte responded by inviting Marsilio to a public debate on the topic: “I’ll bring my team of experts, he can bring his, we’ll get authorization from the ministry, and we’ll conduct the tests.” If the statue proves to be genuine, Consorte is willing to pay damages for his alleged insinuations and apologize, but if it is proven a forgery, he has called for Marsilio to resign. Thus, the story may yet have further developments…
