"Fire Demon" by Frank Frazetta. Book cover art for SWORDS AGAINST DARKNESS, edited by Andrew J. Offutt (Zebra Books, 1977).
I heard the news via Twitter yesterday, as it spread like wildfire. Legendary fantasy painter and icon Frank Frazetta passed away Monday, May 10, 2010, leaving an unparalleled legacy of inspiration and enduring masterworks. Cause of death was reportedly a stroke — an occurrence that repeatedly ravaged the artist during the latter years of his life.
I’m a pro illustrator in the science fiction and fantasy field, and it’s impossible not to be impacted by him. Even for artists who don’t appreciate the art on some level, he and his wife Ellie were trailblazers as businesspeople — the first to negotiate for publishers to return original artwork back to the artists who created it. It’s a common practice, taken for granted by pro artists now. The Frazettas were key to making this an industry standard.
I was a late bloomer. I first saw Frazetta’s work in the late 70′s, through the peripheral vision of my elementary school years. His work was everywhere — on paperback spinner racks and hard rock album covers. It wasn’t until I became a pro that I fell in love with their raw primal power. When that power hit, it hit like a ton of bricks. His Conan and Death Dealer paintings are amongst the usual suspects when people name their favorite Frazettas. Mine is pictured here. Why? It’s hard for me to say other than it has a rage, vitality and poignancy that nail me every time. It’s the rapture of dreams, nightmares, and magic in one iconic image. I hear a surging Wagnerian choir every time I see it. More than all that, I feel for that monster, and hope he’s OK.
I recommend the 2004 DVD, Frazetta: Painting With Fire, for anyone who cares to know more about the man and his work. It’s a fascinating documentary. Frazetta’s legend is loaded with stories of swagger and feat that are Paul Bunyanesque in a way that sometimes makes common sense squint sideways, but his passion for life, love, family, and work is palpable and inspiring. My favorite moment is near the end where the camera films Frazetta tenderly drawing a sabretooth tiger with his left hand. Not a remarkable scene, except that Frazetta wasn’t left-handed. He was a natural right-hander. Late in life, he was forced to train himself to draw and paint with his left when debilitating strokes rendered his right incapable of great work. Watching him draw that tiger with his left was, and still is, unforgettable. Every once in a while, when I’m up late at night, against deadline, pushing against my own shortcomings as an artist, I think of a right-handed Frazetta patiently drawing with his left hand.
To all readers of Missions Unknown — San Antonio and beyond — feel free to drop a comment below and share your favorite Frazetta work and memory.
While I was never a big fantasy fan, Frazetta’s art always caught my eye. It wasn’t until some art friends showed me some books with a bunch of his sketches and roughs that it really hit me why I was drawn to his art from the time I first remembered seeing it in the 70s: he was just really, really friggin’ good!
Some of his rough pen sketches hold their own with the greatest art ever made. His technique and style always amazed me; seemingly without effort, the guy created painting after painting with skill rivaling master artists…because he was a master artist.
I didn’t know he did comic strips until I was in my early 20s. I read comic strips more than comic books growing up, and his comic strip art is so damn perfect!
Everything he did was so damn perfect.
While his subject matter was never something that I was as heavily into as many of my friends, I think that’s why I liked his art so much: he transcended genre.
Whether you loved or hated barbarians and monsters, there was no denying just how damn good he was!
Yeah, Frazetta was all over my childhood, too. Those Conan books on the wire spinner-racks in the drugstore were like porn to my pre-teen sensibilities. Call it a stroke if you want, but me, I think he went out wielding a giant battle-axe against a 200 foot-long python, with a helium-breasted. fur-bikinied warrior woman by his side. It’s how he’d have wanted to go.
Well said, Christopher.
Agreed that some of his inks are amongst the best we’ll see.
Pete — Those last 2 sentences are my favorite line of the day. Just retweeted over on Twitter. Nice one.
John, thanks for posting this news yesterday. It broke my heart to know he had left us. I didn’t even know until last year that he was local to Philadelphia and indeed there is/was a museum so close to me.
And I cried again when I read about him drawing left-handed….
One of my favs is “Serpent” – I just love how glass-like the serpent’s skin appears in the painting…just beautiful technique.
As said above, he reached across many genres and even main-stream folks know who he is. And, indeed, he inspired many to walk in his footsteps in the world of SciFi and fantasy art.
RIP Frank.
Hi, Mair –
Nice post. Thanks very much. Yup, the Frazetta Museum is definitely up in your area. Don’t know what will become of it now that Frank and Ellie have passed away but hopefully it will remain a place where the public can pay respects to his work. If you can, you might want to check it out sooner rather than later!
I have a collection of his works in one of the many books. He was great talent that make the art look fun.
The mood of Frazetta’s art always struck me. Molly Hatchett wouldn’t have been half as good (and probably weren’t) without his images on their album covers. His Conan images are definitive…that is how Conan looks to me, everything else in the movies, books and comics is judged by that standard. When I was in junior high, his illustrations even lured me away from my Science Fiction addiction to take a read through Tarzan (“Tarzan at the Earth’s Core”)…complete with sabretooth tigers!
I really don’t have the words. There was an energy depicted by his work that was unique – his ability to illustrate men and beasts in motion, and have them look like they actually are in motion . . . unbelievable.
John, I was also amazed at his ability to paint wrong-handed. And the other thing that amazed me was that he didn’t use models, photos, etc. – everything he painted sprung from the depths of his imagination, and had such a sense of reality, of proportion. He actually knew how we all wished things would look if we were in charge of reality.
This may sound silly, but every year when I get to WorldCon I go through the art show hoping someone has a Frazetta on display (about 5 years ago the L Ron Hubbard Society displayed an original oil!), and have always hoped we could get him some day as the Guest of Honor. And I don’t mean the Artist GOH, I mean THE GOH. Just how many people started reading adventure and fantasy because of the Frazetta cover that made them want to read the story?
A tremendous loss. I agree with you – anyone who wants to see the museum (which is not open in the winters, and reopens each spring) should get there this year, if it actually reopens.
Thanks for chiming in, Chris.
Paul — I’ve actually never read the original Howard Conan texts (sacrilege, I know), but I’ve heard some folks say that Frazetta’s Conan doesn’t necessarily resemble the guy Howard describes. So although Conan is seen as an REH icon, it’s Frazetta’s paintings that define the character for so many. Power of pictures….
Stu — Yeah, I would’ve loved to have met Frazetta at least once. As far as reference, I’ve absolutely no doubt of his prowess to draw straight from imagination. However, there are several personal snapshots out there of Frazetta in half-naked crouching positions and dramatic poses (I’m thinking of some of the ones printed in the Underwood volumes a few years ago), and it always made me wonder. He was always steadfast that he never used reference, but did he shoot those photos for pure vanity? Strange. Great painters have used models and reference photos as a tool for a long time and continue to do so…it’s what they make of those reference images that matters. Even if he DID use reference photos, I wouldn’t care…..his paintings were glorious, transcendent, and wholly his own.