R. FARRINGTON ELWELL

scenes as a hobby, and a music-loving mother who did sketches in her spare moments-provided the heritage which endowed him with a good measure of native artistic ability. From there on Bob built his own fund of knowledge, today enjoying the distinction of being not only one of the world's foremost artists in his field, but also an authority on several methods of procedure.

Bob Elwell's specialty is Western action as it happens on the open range. In this area of portrayal he excels. How he came to stake out this particular claim as his own is an interesting story.

A short time before he completed his schooling, the Wild West Show of Buffalo Bill Cody came to play an engagement in Boston near his home. Bob was fascinated by the opportunity to see real cowboys and Indians, and spent many afternoons and evenings sketching them from a seat in the bleachers. After a while Cody noticed the boy who came so regularly and worked so ardently. Without letting him know, he one day peered over young Bob's shoulder as he sat sketching on a bale of hay. The work turned out to be surprisingly good, and Cody and the boy struck up a friendship that was to endure for life.

Cody was so impressed with the quality of Bob's work that he asked if he would like to spend the summer at his large ranch in Wyoming where he could draw horses and cowboys and Indians in their natural setting. Bob accepted the invitation with enthusiasm, but had trouble selling the idea to his parents. After much discussion and a lot of careful thought, his father and mother reluctantly agreed, and Bob packed his things.

He spent not only the summer but also the fall studying and sketching Cody's horses and men in action, and returned the following year for a second session. During these periods he built a foundation that has continued to support his artistic career to this day.

His approach to making the most of his opportunity was to divide and conquer by overcoming one obstacle at a time. Each part of the horse he studied he drew separately in as many action positions as he could observe, and the same careful analysis he applied to the ranch hands, their Indian friends and the wild animals encountered on hunting trips into the mountains. By the end of his second vacation he had accumulated over a thousand detail drawings of everything from a hock to a hair-do.

On his return East, teen-aged Bob felt he was now ready to embark on an artistic career as a professional. His parents were not exactly skeptical, but felt he should have his work evaluated by a recognized artist before making such an important move. Bob agreed without hesitation.

On the day he and his parents called on the Great Man, they were assured that Bob had promise, but that it would require years of study, presumably under the Great One's tutelage, to develop it to a point where his work might sell. This pronouncement so infuriated Bob that he gathered up his samples and dashed out before his parents could stop him. At this point fate stepped in.

On his way down the street he passed a book publishing firm and noted a display in the window. Without hesitation he walked in and asked to see the president. The head of D. Lothrop Co., Boston, responded courteously, and before Bob left the office he had in his pocket an assignment to illustrate two forthcoming novels, "Oscar Peterson, Ranchman and Ranger" by Henry W. French, and "Archie of Athabasca" by J. Macdonald Oxley. These works were published in 1893 and gave Bob his start.

His future in the illustrators' world established, Bob settled down to hard work and intensive study. His original sketches had been done in pencil, and he must now deliver black-and-white pen-and-inks, black-and-white water colors (known as wash drawings), and eventually black-and-white oils. He applied himself diligently and soon mastered each medium successfully. It was this basic training in the skills of using black-andwhite which, Bob feels, contributed more than anything else to his later success as a colorist. He has often expressed the conviction that no artist should attempt to work in color until the complexities of painting satisfactorily in black-and-white have been mastered.

Bob worked exclusively in black-and-white for ten years, most of which were spent at the Cody Ranch in Wyoming. During this period he exhausted the many possibilities of the medium, devoting himself extensively to a study of the relative values of the many shades of gray in the long scale from white to black. Eventually there came the day when he felt he was ready to try color. Actually, a commission was thrust upon him. Remarkable as it may seem, Bob did his first canvas in the new medium as if he had been working in color all his life. In fact, the publisher (Forbes) asked him when he delivered his assignment how long he had been experimenting with color. When Bob answered that this was his first attempt, the publisher refused to believe him. Bob's long apprenticeship in black-and-white had paid off.

After painting in color for a time, Bob began to look at his work critically. When he compared nature's landscapes and his paintings of them, he noted that there were delicate shades and hues which he was unable to equal by mixing the paints he squeezed from his scores of tubes. After giving the matter thought and discussing it with several makers of oils, he met a color scientist and manufacturer who became interested enough to cooperate. For many months the two men mixed and tried pigments in an effort to match the tones of nature. It was only after many failures that they finally succeeded. Their hard-won achievement was a shade each of the primary colors that were so accurately matched, the colors of nature could be closely approximated from them by proper mixing. A remarkable aspect of their accomplishment was the fact that they had no modern spectroscopic equipment to help them; their excellent results were produced solely by trial and error. More remarkable still was the degree of accuracy achieved, a degree that compares favorably with the dyes used in today's color transparencies. And all this happened over forty years ago!

For Bob the solving of his color-accuracy problem was a major step forward. He now had the materials he needed, and the wealth of experience he had accumulated in the field of black-and-white provided the solid foundation for their advantageous use. For subject-matter he continued to use the locales and creatures he knew best-the West and its cowboys, Indians, cattle, big game, horses and spectacular scenery. Traditionally, pastels have a tendency to appear "sooty," but not those done by Bob. His have a brilliance and strength which set them apart. In this author's opinion they represent one of his major contributions to the world of contemporary art.

Painting with water colors has come just as easy for Bob Elwell as did working in oils, and his results have been just as striking. Probably the most difficult vehicle Bob has ever used for portraying his favorite subjects is colored ink, applied with a pen. In this method one tiny error spoils the entire effort, making it a hazardous one to use. Not only must just the right shade of ink be selected for each stroke, but the weight of each line must be carefully gauged throughout its full length. The Elwell colored pen and ink sketches reveal a flawless use of this difficult medium, and only because it is so time-consuming is it so little used in his regular work.

In addition to those already mentioned, two significant characteristics add to the appeal of Bob Elwell's work. First, his action never appears frozen. Be the subject a bucking horse, a bawling calf or a cowboy buttoning up his Levi jacket, the appearance of uninterrupted motion is phenomenal. Whether he has determined just how he accomplishes this effect, Bob has never said-but a sense of movement is evident in each piece of work he produces. It may be smooth and flowing motion as in the bronze of the Indian paddling through a rapids, or it may be explosive and violent motion as illustrated in the oil painting he has named "Double Trouble." In either case it stands out as a prominent identification of his work and breathes into it an aliveness which places it in a class by itself. Another prominent quality is the illusion of depth he gets in his settings. In many instances the feeling is so strong that it is recognized by even the uninitiated. Many a salty cowboy has looked at an Elwell and re-marked, "Looks like I could ride right into that place."

The ability to produce a feeling of depth stems from a combination of factors, not the least of which is a thorough understanding of color values as learned by Bob during his black-and-white days. Undoubtedly there is more to it than just that, but however it is done, the final result is an amazing duplication of what is seen by the eye in real life-an effect which Bob has fought to attain in his work for as long as he can remember.

As a person Bob Elwell is a genial gentleman. Although he left the East as a young boy, he has never lost his Bostonian accent nor his meticulous observance of proper New England demeanor. Over six feet tall and of handsome build, he radiates optimism and an en-joyment of life that makes him a delightful person to meet. When you introduce yourself you find an open friendliness that makes you feel welcome, and an enthu-siasm that is inspiring.

After moving about the West for most of his life, Bob Elwell now lives with his wife, Kathy, in Phoenix, where he has his work on display in a large living room which serves as a gallery. A short distance from the house is his studio, and it is here that he spends most of the daylight hours planning and working. He holds to a schedule that would do credit to a man much younger.

For recreation Bob still loves to camp out and enjoythe natural phenomena of the wide open spaces-the play of light and shadow on distant hillsides by day, the shimmering glimmer of a canopy of stars as seen from a bedroll at night. At his age, it might be assumed, he should feel he has seen everything, but this is not the case. His interest in and zeal for the natural beauty of all things reveals a love and attachment for the wonders of creation that has never waned. Without doubt it is this beneficent attitude which by reflection lends to his work an added something-a hidden quality that eludes identification.

Without question, Bob Elwell has the ability to visualize in detail the scenes he plans to depict. More important, he possesses the skill to fill in those mental images in such a manner that they come alive with reality. This miracle could not be brought about if there were not included in the compound of his personality the catalyst of love love of life, love of nature, love for his work. Upon this cornerstone R. Farrington Elwell has built a life of great accomplishments.

Mountains In The Sun By WELDON F. HEALD

Looking south over the border into Mexico from the top of the Huachuca Mountains with hundreds of square miles of San Pedro Valley grasslands below Down in that paradoxical land where Arizona meets New Mexico and Old under the blue southwestern sky are a dozen or so mountain ranges, 7,500 feet to nearly 11,000 feet elevation. They are varied and fascinating in scenery, animal and plant life, and they offer unique summer outings for those who are looking for quiet, unspoiled vacations far from crowded resorts.

These high-altitude oases rise like cool, green islands above the broad valleys and rolling plateaus of southwestern Arizona and resemble bits of Oregon strayed far from home. They carry on their broad backs 600 square miles of magnificent evergreen forests interspersed with lush wildflower meadows and groves of quaking aspens. Fern-banked streams cascade down between mossy rocks, and in the deep woods are hushed places where the only sound is wind in the treetops or the evening song of the hermit thrush. The high peaks command stupendous panoramas out over mountains, valleys, hills and canyons, thousands of square miles in extent.

No long wilderness treks are necessary in order to visit the ranges of southeastern Arizona. Most of them are easily accessible by good mountain roads; in several the summit ridges, 8,000 to 10,000 feet, can be climbed comfortably in your own car. There are several places where you can sweep upwards in an hour from cactus and yucca, typical of northern Mexico, to spruce and fir, in a climate comparable to Canada's Hudson Bay.

In the mountains are numerous improved campgrounds, hundreds of miles of good riding and hiking trails, fair trout fishing if you know where to goexcellent deer, mountain lion and wild turkey hunting, thrilling rock climbs, or just loafing amidst grand scenery in a summer climate unsurpassed on this continent. A few rustic mountain lodges are available for those who like a roof over their heads after days in the open, and the nearby valley guest ranches make good headquarters

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"PORTRAIT OF A DESERT WINTER AND SPRING" BY ESTHER HENDERSON. 5x7 Deardorff View camera; Ektachrome; f.22 at 1/5th sec.; Goerz Dagor lens; April; late afternoon; 200 Weston meter reading; ASA rating 12. Taken on the Mt. Lemmon Highway, north of Tucson, near where it starts up the Santa Catalina Mountains. The night before a late spring snowstorm swept over the mountains leaving them with a coat of white in the morning. Completely oblivious to the wintry view the desert was beginning to dress up in spring's best dress.