For artists of my generation the gold standard for fantasy art is Frank Frazetta.
When we were kids back in the 1970’s our introduction to fantasy and science fiction came via paperback books that we would find usually on the spinner racks in our local drug store. Edgar Rice Burroughs, Robert E, Howard and many other authors were eagerly sought after, and our hard-earned lawn mowing money would be exchanged for a chance to live a daring adventure in a land of jungles, monsters and barbarians. But all those paperbacks had one thing in common. The cover art was Frank Frazetta.
Frazetta’s colourful, visceral, dream-like (and sometimes nightmare-like) images were what drew us to those spinner racks. His images were our introduction to the seminal works of fantasy and science fiction.
When I wasn’t thrilling to the adventures between them I would spend hours staring at the covers, poring over every aspect of the reproduced art. I would anxiously look for more Frazetta images everywhere. I even bought books that I would have had little or no interest in reading except for the fact that it sported a Frazetta on the cover. (Let’s be honest: not to disparage Lance Horner’s talents as a writer, but how many of us bought the paperback edition of his Rogue Roman solely because it had Frazetta’s art on the cover?).
Betty Ballantine knew a good thing when she saw it. Her and her husband Ian Ballantine had founded Bantam Books, then Later Ballantine Books. In the 1970’s they were freelance publishers and they published a trade paperback book showcasing Frank’s artwork.
The Fantastic Art of Frank Frazetta would eventually have four volumes, each featuring high quality prints of some of the artwork that had been featured on those early paperback covers. Here they were presented larger and without the the clutter of type. Frazetta’s pure genius showed through with those four editions and young artists like myself snapped them up and examined the pages like we were discovering the secrets of the universe.
Because, in a way, we were. Studying the images of the master and reproducing them in pencil in our sketchbooks, crafting studies of these amazing reproductions, trying to get an inkling of what it took to produce a “Frazetta” picture.
So what did we discover? For artists such as myself we discovered that the technique wasn’t as important as the composition. Looking at any Frazetta piece is like trying to study nature. You can break down the structure of the wood or the leaves but the majesty of nature is only appreciated when it is taken in as a whole.
The power of a Frazetta painting is the image itself. The technique is almost irrelevant. Most of his most famous paintings were produced when Frank was at the top of his game. His brushstrokes seem haphazard and sloppy. Oil paint smeared off to the side form vague shapes with little or no contrast. But step back and the shapes suddenly come alive with movement. A mass of burnt umber with a few globs of yellowy-white suddenly become a horde of fierce warriors bearing down on the picture’s central figure.
BRAN MAK MORN
One of his most iconic paintings is his cover for Bran Mak Morn which he painted in 1969. There’s hardly any lines. It’s all vague shapes and areas of colours, mostly red and orange, shifting into one another. The forms of Morn and his men are in black shadow and what features are in highlight are minimalist shapes that subtly suggest muscles rippling in movement.
But what an image! That horde of Pictish warriors about to unleash fury on the viewer. Red impasto suggests the rocky crag they are about to leap over. Their mouths form screams that the viewer can only imagine piercing the smoke-filled air, sending shivers up the spine.
The image is so raw it’s like a punch in the face.
THE DEATH DEALER
Probably one of his most well known works is from a few years later, in 1973. The Death Dealer is a symphony of grey brown and black punctuated by a splash of orange and red. The most detailed figure in the painting is the horse which is a mass of black with purple to white highlights. The horse’s centre is covered with a swath of chain mail and an armoured saddle. The chain is delicately rendered with the individual links clearly delineated. Next to it, the horse’s armour features a fantastic leaf filigree which is, again, rendered in the most exacting detail in a burnished gold colour.
Everything else is vague shapes. Even the Death Dealer himself is only visible via highlights that come from a dark black shadowy figure. A bearded axe that seems to be dripping blood. The hint of an armoured shoulder with the suggestion of a rough filigree. A horned helmet which reflects what little light there is in the atmosphere. Under the helmet two red eyes glow menacingly.
The rest of the painting is vague shapes and colours that swirl one into the other. The vultures that swoop through the air are merely faded shapes. The rocks on which the horse stands… it’s like Frazetta hasn’t even bothered to try to give them any shape… and he doesn’t have to. This is the master at the height of his powers. A few dabs of paint suggest a harsh rocky crest from which the Death Dealer assesses his next victim.
And that victim is you, the viewer.
You know, I could tell you where Frank Frazetta was born, where he went to art school, his apprenticeship under Al Capp and his work on Capp’s newspaper strip, Li’l Abner. I could tell you about his transition to his other comic book work. I could tell you about his relationship with his wife, Ellie, his friendship with artists like Al Williamson and Roy G. Krenkel. I could tell you about his family and the establishment of the Frazetta Museum in rural Pennsylvania.
I could tell you all of those things, but for my money none of that is really important when it comes to the impact of Frazetta’s art.
Frazetta has been called the Godfather of Fantasy art and it’s a title that is well deserved. For the pre-internet generation Frank Frazetta was the sole influence of almost all the artists that came after him. We have all, to one degree or another, tried to emulate, copy, swipe, borrow, beg or steal some of that Frazetta magic.
Can we be Frank? No. None of us can. Frank is a force of nature. To try to copy him too closely can bring ridicule or scorn. But as artists we each take a piece of him… a piece of his ineffable magic… like an ember from a fire that we try to rekindle in our own drawings, paintings, digital works, what have you.
None of us can be Frank, but all of us have a small piece of Frank Frazetta inside of us, driving us forward, moving us to try to reach that summit of fantasy art greatness.
For those interested in seeing more Frazetta work and finding out more about the artists I can recommend a current release, Fantastic Paintings of Frazetta. It’s a deluxe hardcover with commentary by J. David Spurlock, Frank Frazetta & Frank Frazetta Jr. You can find it here.
This blog post originally appeared in a slightly different form on the ESO Netowrk website.
Another fine article. Thank you.