Adventures On Canvas -- Far North Still Calls Seattle-Based Artist
Locked inside the complex mind of Seattle-based artist Fred Thomas is a constant yearning for the Last Frontier.
This is no light notion, or just some passing fancy. It's a daily monster that's pulled hard for nearly 50 years and now tears at his heart. It's relentless.
If you knew him as your father, like I do, you could see it clearly. Nestled inside that cranium, next to an incredible store of creativity, lies a burning desire for a return to the far north.
Luckily for him and for art aficionados nationwide, past pursuits in Alaska and dreams of return visits are immortalized on canvas in the form of spectacular and even simple watercolor and oil paintings of the people, wildlife, scenery and perhaps more important, the feel of Washington and Alaska.
From the smiling Eskimo on the tail of Alaska Airlines jets to Washington and Alaska duck and salmon stamps, his work is solicited by clients who want an accurate rendition of wildlife in the Pacific Northwest. During these brushstrokes, he is transferred into another setting - a surreal world that allows a sense of relief from the pull of the wild, if only for a brief time.
"When I work on a painting it puts me there," Thomas said. "You think about that area you're painting - the colors, the light, the atmosphere, the type of vegetation. . . . Really, you have to be there in your mind to do a painting."
In recent years, his Washington State salmon and duck stamp art have been in demand as limited-edition prints, the brushstrokes of the artist providing an escape from reality for others. Salmon and duck stamps are purchased by sportsmen before they fish and hunt, with proceeds going to state wildlife programs.
When painting Washington's 1992 salmon stamp - a detail of a chrome-bright silver salmon slashing through a ball of baitfish, its dorsal fin just breaking the surface - his mind could have been many places.
In his youth, Thomas pursued silver salmon on the saltwater near Point No Point and Possession Bar. Later, his quest for salmon moved inland, where he scrambled along the banks of the Skykomish and Snohomish rivers, casting small lures on light tackle for heavy, feisty fish. Even then he visualized other places, more fish.
In 1966, he moved us to the small southeast Alaska town of Petersburg, where he taught high-school art while coaching the wrestling team in winter and went commercial fishing in the summer.
"Going to Alaska was always a dream of mine, and I wasn't disappointed when I got there," he said. "We saw as much of Alaska as we could, and it influenced my early work."
Some of his ventures included trips to Seward, Homer, Ninilchik, Dillingham, Naknek and Petersburg for Icicle Seafoods, and much of the Yukon River while working on projects for Yutana Barge Lines. On other occasions, he takes to the wild places of Alaska for pure enjoyment - rod or rifle in hand.
Joining my father on some of these outings, I enjoy the perspective of the artist's eye.
"Look at that light, that's nice light," Dad will say. "See how soft it is on that mountain. Look at the reflection on the water."
My father never measures a successful day afield by how many fish we catch or if we are able to bag a limit of ducks or deer. The value of an outing is gauged by the amount of visual stimulation encountered.
That eye, that acknowledgement, that appreciation of light and nature's nuances, gives his paintings the feel that other artists may find elusive, said Jim Hayes, a Seattle-based illustrator and friend of Thomas.
"I'd have a difficult time narrowing down what he does well to one thing," Hayes said. "But I find the light, represented in his shadows, exciting. A lot of artists skip the work of bringing out the color in shadow. But light is often defined by shadow, and Fred really puts an emphasis on it."
Despite hundreds of commercial and fine art pieces, no particular piece is as visible as the smiling Alaska Airlines Eskimo. The symbol has endured far longer than Thomas could have imagined.
"At the time, it wasn't a particularly important job," he said. "But part of the success in the business is marketability, and as far as PR goes, I've gotten my mileage from that piece."
The image nearly was scrapped by the airline in 1985 in favor of a stylish mountain logo. But company officials underestimated the Eskimo's value as a symbol of the Last Frontier.
"The Seattle Times ran an editorial on it, the Associated Press picked it up and things snowballed," said company spokesman Greg Witter. "Pretty soon we were receiving a lot of phone calls from Alaskans, then the Los Angeles Times ran an editorial, and all 20 of Alaska's state legislators signed a bill to keep the logo."
It stayed, although multiple myths about its origin refuse to go away. Many people believe the emblem is a rendition of the face of the late Chester Seveck, a reindeer herder and Eskimo dancer who often greeted tourists at Kotzebue. Others suggest a resemblance to a list of characters including Charles Manson, Moammar Gadhafi, Johnny Cash and Willie Nelson.
But Thomas, who created the artwork with designer Vic Warren of Seattle, had none of those people in mind.
"All I did was draw an Eskimo who looked happy," he said. "Just a friendly, smiling Eskimo. The work may have originally occurred from some reference to him (Chester Seveck), but it was unintentional. At the same time, I wouldn't want to dispute that it is him, because it makes a good story."
Now, many years later, Thomas is a part-time instructor at Seattle Central Community College. He struggles to keep up with the great demand for his work and meet deadlines. But he keeps his success in perspective.
"Success and awards are nice, but they are not necessarily accurate indicators of how good your artwork is," he said.
He keeps busy in Washington hunting, skiing and steelheading. But there is still, undeniably, that yearning for the Last Frontier.
"Alaska is the opportunity to escape the urban society," he said. "But I don't need to relocate right now. You could live anywhere and find inspiration for art."
For now, he finds that inspiration in Seattle. But down the road, don't be surprised if he gives in to the call of the north. That is where he fulfills his dreams - and immortalizes those adventures on canvas.