A Special Collection of Great Western Paintings

Charlie Dye

On a hilltop at the end of a road I can never find, the first thing you'll see is the two-horse corral and a barn.

That will be to your right as you drive up to it. Hidden behind the mass of chaparral ahead and to your left is the house, home and studio, the Capitol of Mary and Charlie Dye's two-horse world.

Charlie Dye is a master painter of the American West, and he uses the same thinking approach with people as he does with his art, so when he knows I'm coming he meets me at the main highway junction and I follow him in a cloud of clean, red dust to the house on the hill.

He prefers doing it his way rather than wait for a half to three-quarters of an hour for me to raise "more dust than a herd of stampeding blind buffaloes, a'comin' and a'goin' up one road and down another, scarin' up the livestock."

Charlie Dye paints with the same concept. Whatever his subject and composition, the viewer is attracted and led to the story through just enough mood to soften the impact of confrontation with a dynamic masterpiece.

Like his good friend, Olaf Wieghorst, Charlie Dye's art is inspired by the horse, and every painting is a testament to the glory of the West — and the people who live and love the action, romance and reality of hoof, horn, saddle and trail.

He lives the life he paints. With his fellow townsman, Joe Beeler and Flagstaff publisher, Paul Weaver, Charlie keeps in shape roping and riding and helping on roundups every chance he gets.

"Through the Aspens"

Charlie Dye is recognized by other great western painters to be one of the elite. The demand for his works and their worth in fourand five-figure legal tender is a matter of fact. Raymond Carlson once remarked that in addition to everything else Arizona had more than any other state, were the numbers and kinds of artists which seemed to be behind every rock and bush, most of them telling one another how great they were.

"Blacksmithing On the Ranch"

Charlie Dye doesn't talk about his work, and talks reluctantly about art in general. Even in the company of his fellow Cowboy Artists of America friends, the chatter is about horses, cows, people and, of all things, golf. Charlie first saw light of day sixty-five years ago in the cow-town of Canon City, Colorado. His earliest memories were of horses, cattle and the rugged men who worked them.

"A Comin' and A Goin'"

These three action filled paintings were inspired by the artist's early ranch life experiences. They are part of the collection of Western Art belonging to Mr. James E. Miller of St. Joseph, Missouri. Courtesy: Collier-Miller Gallery In his youth he rode during the last days of the old-time cow-calf outfits in Colorado, Arizona and California. He sketched the life around him for fun and something to pass the time away, never with an idea of becoming a professional artist. "What happened to change your mind and your life?" I asked. "A horse," said Charlie.

Charlie and Mary Flannery were married in 1929, when, for those who can remember, life in these United States was at a minus zero level. For the happy-hearted newlyweds it was the beautiful beginning of a new life.

Reminiscing on his New York days, Charlie had no regrets regarding what he might have been if several of his friends and colleagues had succeeded in influencing him to stay with the goal of being a top executive in one of New York's leading art agencies. After talking things over with Mary, they decided to leave the "rat race" behind and went for broke in quest of the good life, trading their assets for a schooner in which they leisurely cruised up and down along the eastern seaboard for 18 months before settling down on a twenty-four-acre farm fronting on Chesapeake Bay tidewater. From here, gentleman farmer-yachtsman Dye free lanced his art to agents.

"I had just turned twenty-one. I reckon that I owe my art career to a big black bronc that fell with me and sent me to a hospital. During this enforced idleness, I discovered the drawings and paintings of that great cowboy artist Charlie Russell. I became plumb excited over his stuff and the Art Bug bit me good. I high-tailed it to Chicago and studied commercial art until I was good enough to make a hand in the commercial studios. I painted at night at the Chicago Art Institute and American Academy for about nine years and then went down to New York to try my luck with the magazines. I studied at night with the great illustrator and painter, Harvey Dunn. From the little pulp magazines I worked my way up to the big outfits, and my work has appeared in many of the major magazines, including The Saturday Evening Post, Argosy, American Weekly, Outdoor Life and many others."

NATIONAL COWBOY HALL OF FAME COWBOY ARTISTS OF AMERICA EXHIBIT 1971

Western landscapes and similar objects, but we wanted to pin it down to the artists that painted cowboy and kindred subjects, ones who knew the horse well, ones that could make a hand at a roundup and, above all, were absolute professional artists. We elected George Phippen our first president and the other officers we drew out of a hat. Charlie Dye, vice president John Hampton, secretary Joe Beeler, treasurer, & Fred Harman our first director." And so from an idea born of fun and fellowship has grown the present membership of thirty-three every man a great American artist. There will be more on the Cowboy Artists of America and their significance in this truly golden age of the Art of the American West, scheduled for the fall of 1972. We just couldn't tell the story of Charlie Dye without touching on the Cowboy Artists of America. We introduced Charlie Dye to our readers in our October 1970 edition featuring James Serven's National Cowboy Hall of Fame's best Western Magazine article of the year "Cattle, Guns and Cowboys." In response to the many requests for more of his work and queries concerning the artist and his background we are proud to present this special collection selected to illustrate the wide latitude of greatness evolved from the heart, soul, mind and hand of Charlie Dye. Whether the painting expresses the quiet serenity of "Through the Aspens" or the exciting action of "The Predicament" the impact is instant. "There is no 'ism' tied to the tail of my painting. I've always felt that the most beautiful animal Created by nature (including man), was the horse Charlie Dye muses]. To me every horse is just as much an individual as any person. I try to paint the truth as I know it and remember it about a life I lived as a young man. Whether or not cowboy paintings can be considered as great art does not concern me a damn bit. Such art records a time in history which interests many people, and among them are lots of old-timers who know which end of a cow eats, and I paint for that public. If a person has to be told what a painting means and what the artist intended to convey, I sure think it's a damn poor painting." We have purposely chosen the two paintings titled, "A-comin' and A-goin'" and "Pow-Wow Encampment" to show two of artist Dye's more recent works interpreting the Arizona Indians and their way of life. "Villa at Zacatecas" represents many hours of research involved in distinguishing between fact and legend, which historians prize and respect in documenting significant episodes through historical graphic records. The sun yawned as he pulled the Red Rock Hills over him and I wanted to find my way out to the highway before dark, without a guide, so I didn't linger too long in Charlie's studio where he is working on his latest masterpiece titled "Changing Teams at Beaverhead Station." Here were all the elements, all the dimensions, plus action stagecoach, many horses, Indians, building, researched and authenticated many, many hours away from completion.

"The Mustangers"

James E. Miller Collection, Collier-Miller Gallery It takes genius, talent, patience and experience to conceive and integrate so much of the past and hold it within a frame measuring 24 x 36 inches.

It takes all those human qualities, the blessings of the Great Spirit and a guy named Charlie Dye who gives all credit to — a horse. Jos. Stacey

"Villa at Zacatecas"-O'Brien's Art Emporium, Scottsdale, Arizona.

That's not the only trick to driving the wide open spaces, as Herb explained: "Another thing that traveling Arizona has taught us is to keep the gas tank as full as possible. We never know how far we're going to go chasing pictures before we get back to the beaten path. Several times we've just nursed the car into a town and put nineteen-point-six gallons in a twenty-gallon tank. So now we make it a rule that when the tank is half empty, we fill it up. It also gives us a break, makes us get out of the car."

That business of the uncanny communication keeps popping up. Herb tells about one time when they were driving past the turnoff to the Four Corners monument, where the states of Arizona, Utah, Colorado and New Mexico all come together. He had seen the monument but she had not, so Herb pulled off the highway and parked. One of the games people play at Four Corners is photographing each other being in all four states at once. Herb said one man was photographing his wife, who was stretched out on the monument.

The photograph at left was used in ARIZONA HIGHWAYS, February-March, 1962, special commemorative edition. Originally done for Motorola, it has been used many times in many ways, including a front cover (left) for "America," the official United States exchange magazine distributed in the U.S.S.R.

One category of photography the McLaughlins like best, and maybe one of the better yardsticks for measuring Arizona, is events involving people doing things. People seem to find an awful lot to do here that needs photographing: skiing, both on snow and on the lakes, sailboating, horseback riding, golfing, rodeos, parades, auto races.

"We usually work these events together," Dorothy said, "and we meet a lot of nice people this way." Sometimes, Herb will work a rodeo with a telephoto lens from one end of the arena and Dorothy will roam the area with a shorter lens, both hoping to capture a couple of really great rodeo photographs.

"I said, 'Would you like to get in the picture? Show me how to use your camera.' Pretty soon I turned around and there were maybe twenty or thirty people lined up wondering if I would take their pictures. They had no idea what I did for a living, of course. I looked at Dot and handed her the car keys to the car. Then I stalled while she grabbed a camera and came back. She started taking pictures of people's antics and it made a magazine article. I had to be shown how to use every different kind of amateur camera."

This business of photographing people doing things extends into industry and the things people do for a living. One time

they covered an Apache cattle drive into Whiteriver, driving to a vantage point, waiting for the cattle to catch up, taking photographs and then driving on to the next vantage point. But there was time between pictures to visit with the Apache cowboys.

Another time, director John Ford held up shooting on "The Searchers" in Monument Valley for 20 minutes while he and Dorothy tried to trace family ties. His mother was a McLaughlin. The night before, they had sat up talking with Ward Bond in the Gouldings' guest trailer. "He had remembered us from another time in Sedona four or five years before," Dorothy said.

There was some consternation in New York not long ago, after the McLaughlins photographed some new ore cars for Kennecott Copper Company's annual report. One of the new, black cars turned up with dusty footprints on the side of it. They finally figured out that a workman, waiting for the car to reach the stipple where it was dumped, had sat on a walkway and rested his feet against the side of the car.

Industry is not considered a glamorous subject to photograph, especially these days, yet some of the McLaughlins' most dramatic photographs have been taken in the copper smelters. Another industrial photograph, of a Motorola technician gold-plating parts for space vehicles, showed up not only on the cover of Motorola's annual report, but on the cover of America Illustrated, a magazine that goes to Russia and Poland.

One of their thrills was working for Evinrude, photographing speed runs on Lake Havasu. The water has to be glassy smooth before the company lets a test driver take the boat out.

"So we get out at daylight for several mornings and they won't run and we wait and wait," Dorothy said. "But when the run's actually on, it's one of the most exciting things in the world."

Once Dorothy rode in the crash boat while Herb supervised four different cameras from shore. The driver came close past the crash boat at something like 125 miles per hour. One of Evinrude's officials in the crash boat told the driver later, "Hey, you weren't paying any attention to my signals."

"What signals? I didn't even see you. You expect me to see you signaling at that speed?"

Dorothy said she told them, "Let me out of this boat."

Usually the job is not so hazardous, although Herb has been attacked by a deer. And he was almost attacked near Kitt Peak in Southern Arizona one time when he stopped to photograph Kitt Peak National Observatory. A desert hawk swooped at him. "But I guess he decided at the last minute that I was too big to handle," Herb said.

Deer are Dorothy's favorite game. Although she qualifies as an expert rifle shot, the only way she'll hunt them is with a Hasselblad with a 500-millimeter lens. "They're the most gorgeous creatures," she said. "Again, this is where our communication with each other comes in handy. Herb is the only

one who can drive a 4-wheel-drive vehicle into the right position for me to get the deer in the viewfinder.

Of course, working together as much as they do, the McLaughlins have to be careful to stay out of each other's photographs. Or so they thought. They were shooting a photograph of a member of the old Houston Colt .45s when the team trained at Apache Junction. The photograph was for the employee magazine of the Texas pipeline company which sponsored the player. Just for fun, Dorothy took a picture of Herb photographing the player and sent it along. The editor of the magazine thought that was a great idea. But he had the good sense to want Dorothy in the photograph instead of Herb, so Herb had to photograph Dorothy photographing the baseball player.

The McLaughlins have taken plenty of photographs of each other, but how do they get a photograph of the two of them as a team? In the past they've had only a couple of pictures of the two of them together, taken by other professionals that they've run into. But every fall, they go out to Barry Goldwater's house to photograph the people who man his MARS (Military Affiliate Radio System) station, which puts civilians in touch with relatives in the armed forces overseas. The McLaughlins donate the photograph that becomes the MARS group's Christmas card.

The Senator is an advanced amateur photographer. “VERY advanced,” Herb said. “He could give the rest of us stiff competition if he ever turned professional. We asked him to photograph us. He posed us in his yard and shot a roll of film.” So the McLaughlins' newest family photograph carries the credit line “Photograph by Barry Goldwater.” Just as Goldwater's hobby is photography, the McLaughlins have developed hobbies because of Arizona and because of their photographic assignments around the state. Their spacious home on Royal Palm Road contains a magnificent collection of Hopi Kachina dolls (Dorothy, by the way, named Royal Palm Road in the 1940s, and churches, schools and businesses have since adopted the name). She has become a rockhound, and the McLaughlins also collect Indian artifacts and western and Indian paintings.

Herb has the equipment and the knowledge gained by experience to meet any request for industrial and construction photography.

Arizona has given them the background for many photographs, many of them prizewinners. Their work has appeared all over the world on magazine covers, in advertisements, on calendars and record jackets. But they say the best showcase for their work remains ARIZONA HIGHWAYS. “My biggest thrill ever was my first ARIZONA HIGHWAYS cover,” Dorothy said.

Ironically, one book which contains a relatively small percentage of their photographs is one they published themselves, “Phoenix 1870-1970 in Photographs.” The McLaughlins did not turn casually from photography to leap into the publishing business. The project started more or less by accident back in the 1940s. Herb bought the files of the McCulloch Brothers, who had been photographers in Phoenix since 1912. Some of the 6,000 or 7,000 photographs in the collection were on old glass plates.

Over the past twenty-five years, Herb and Dorothy McLaughlin have stretched the West into a big West with limits deep in Mexico to the south, and north to the Bering Straits. Many of their trips have been on assignment for ARIZONA HIGHWAYS and others have been for national advertisers in other states.

Even when vacationing, their chief hobby is photography. After shooting a few hundred thousand frames, they still await the development of each roll as though it was the first they had ever done.

Below: The westernmost point in the fifty United States, near Nome, Alaska. From this point the eastern boundary of the Soviet Union is only fifteen miles away.

Throughout the years, they picked up other historic photographs when and where they could. They also realized that history was being made in Arizona following World War II, and they began taking what would be "before" photographs to go with "afters" a few years later.

"Another new hobby we have is finding our photographs in historic collections," Herb said. "It's quite a shock some-times."

Anyhow, they decided that the one hundredth anniversary of the location of the Phoenix townsite would be the ideal time to publish a book. As word got around about the book, they were offered the use of many old family albums and collections. State and private historical agencies either loaned them old photographs or allowed them to copy them. At one time, their studio contained maybe 15,000 historic photographs. They assembled artists, writers, a printer, an art director and a bindery.

But they hope the book will be a lasting chronicle of the Phoenix area's first hundred years. Already the Phoenix Civic Plaza Businessmen's Association has given them the "Outstanding Citizens Award for 1971" for the book, and the Phoenix City Council passed an official resolution of commendation.

They're already talking about updating it, and maybe then they can squeeze in more of their own photographs. Arizona is a changing place, where newcomers and visitors are always looking for the worthwhile way of living that has kept the McLaughlins here for a quarter of a century.

A Short Essay On Why We Are Discontinuing Camera Data

We've thought about it and have ruminated it over and over in our minds, and among ourselves, but working with the McLaughlins has done it.

There are times when even they don't know where they are or what they're shooting at. If their life depended on it they cannot recall an f-stop or the shutter speed of any given series of exposures. Printing some sort of camera data relative to their photographs would be like expecting you to find your way through downtown Milwaukee with a map of New Orleans, Louisiana.

Most of our photographers use cameras and equipment no tourist or casual photographer can afford to accumulate, transport or operate and besides most of the pros come up with the most fantastic photographs as a result of doing everything wrong -according to the book.

So, in all fairness to all concerned and because we know photography and know it honestly no more camera data.

Before you get your mad-pad out for a letter of protest, try putting yourself in the McLaughlin's place for the stunning photograph reproduced on this page. They engaged a famous Alaskan bush pilot for an early morning flight through the high country.

OK... three people in a single engine craft windows wide open. A glance at the altimeter shows 12,500 feet above sea level no auxiliary oxygen equipment (which is almost a life and death must at over 8500 feet). Twelve thousand five hundred feet and they are flying through a cloud filled valley! On one side of the craft is Mt. McKinley, 20,320 feet high on the other Mt. Foraker, 17,395 feet. Herb's shooting from one window Dot from the other.

They are not sure whose roll this frame came from and they're not sure whether the peak shown is Mt. McKinley or Mt. Foraker.

That's why no more camera data.

When through one man a little more love and goodness, a little more light and truth comes into the world, then that man's life has had meaning.

Happy 1972

USE ARIZONA HIGHWAYS CALENDAR TO GUIDE YOU THROUGH THE NEW YEAR USE ORDER FORM IN THE CENTER OF THIS ISSUE, Or available at better newsstands FOR USE AS A DESK OR WALL CALENDAR DESIGNED TO BE ENJOYED IN YOUR HOME OR AS A GIFT TO YOUR SPECIAL FRIENDS, RELATIVES OR BUSINESS ASSOCIATES PAGE SIZE 9" x 12"

JUNE 1972 MY MOST DESIRED WISH

Something I've always wanted and dreamed of having is a ranch. I am absolutely crazy . . . about horses and the outdoors. Although I have my own horse, which I raised from a colt of seven months, I'd like to see her running free in a big, green meadow with other horses and cattle. If my dream ever does come true I realize it will be a long ways from now but I am willing to wait for as long as it may be. I also realize for something like that I'll have to work hard and I am also willing to do that. I would love to spend the rest of my life on a ranch, raising horses and working with them until they would be good .... trustworthy and gentle (but not too gentle). . . horses for anyone to ride. After raising them all, I probably wouldn't want to part with them . . . That's how crazy I am.

A QUEEN MAKES AN EXIT

She stands In tattered gold Tossing bits of amber And jade, jewels of a year grown old: November.

BORN IN TIME

There is so much I've never seen And never shall, I fear, But I've seen forests tall and green, And snow-tracks of a deer.

My soul has fed with wonder On a canyon's grand design, And the beauty of small cactus blooms Forever will be mine.

This world is full of wondrous sights My eyes may never view, But I have seen God's clean outdoors Beneath skies ever blue.

CINQUAIN

Cattle seem to ponder some other horizon standing in the wind in green fields sky-held.

WHAT ARIZONA MEANS TO ME?

What Arizona means to me? Perhaps just a Palo Verde tree; A star filled night, a sun warmed day, A dusty Indian child at play. A desert bloom, a snow capped peak, Roaring river, dry stone creek. The brittle ground of ancient battle, Ten thousand head of white faced cattle. An arrow point beneath the dirt, A rusty spur and rawhide quirt. A mine shaft dug into a slope Which once housed promises and hope. Now we speed on past these things Or look below from metal wings. I came from this, yet cannot see What Arizona means to me.

COYOTE

I will admit that I abhor His habits, but his repertoire Of yaps and wails is pleasing, so I overlook his faults. I know At worst he pilfers, but at best His song still typifies the West.

MUSEUM EXHIBIT: BISON IN HIS "NATURAL" HABITAT

I look at his drab skull. His ears are pitched back, as if there is a wind. He dreams of running into the wind.

Now, a crowd stares like he is an unveiling of themselves.

Hello old, sweet buffalo; in the false night on your false plain, a Kioway burns flowers which never grew, there.

YOURS SINCERELY

Special Editor's Note. Some 8 or 10 years ago I picked up a paper blown by the wind into my driveway in the vicinity of 1 6th Street and Maryland in Phoenix. It had been run over by several sets of tires and torn in several places. I read it and decided to file it in a special box I keep marked X X X X which is my code for Extra Special for future use. The only marking legible other than the prose was a "J.M.J." at the top of the page and some of what appears to spell "April."

In putting the Charlie Dye story together and musing over his feeling about horses, I remembered "My Most Desired Wish" and asked Larry Toschik to illustrate it. If the beautiful dreamer recognizes it please come in We're crazy about you. Jos. Stacey.

FROM NEW ENGLAND

Your September issue of ARIZONA HIGH WAYS arrived today and once again left me in awe at its magnificence. We here in New England enjoy colorful foliage each fall, but your "Autumn's Paintbrush" photographs of the season in parts of Arizona leave me spellbound. Having been to your great state on more than a few dozen occasions and having visited virtually every community, each ARIZONA HIGHWAYS issue holds fond memories for me. Not surprisingly, it also offers ideas for future visits.

I feel like a native son and your fine magazine is a letter from home. I hope to be in your midst again soon.

John E. Heald Seekonk, Mass.

WHERE DO YOU STOP?

The September issue is another beautiful issue but I must add a note of dissent concerning your editorial. It will not "take another eternity to populate the state." In just a short thirty years, Arizona has lost much of its pioneer and western character and this is primarily the result of too many people in too short a time. Industrialization will produce more jobs, more money and still more people. Please! It should not be a function of the Highway Department to promote mass migration of people and industry from the rest of the U.S. to Arizona. What would you take pictures of and write about when Arizona becomes just another over-populated land?

My people came here by covered wagon in 1883 so I do have more than just an interest in keeping Arizona beautiful-and under populated, if you please.

Jack S. White Dragoon, Arizona

A MAN OF UNUSUAL PERCEPTION

Thank you so very, very much for those heartfelt words in your September issue, "It Happens Every September." It is the most beautifully written and inspirational piece of reporting I have ever read.

You said the things we all wish we had thought. Most of it brought tears to my eyes I am quite sensitive to beautiful composition as I have traveled over most of your highways with my late wife. We both loved nature so much. On page sixteen, paragraph two, you wrote something that touched me deeply. I have been entertained many hours by grasshopper performers. Your description revealed things I had missed. Thanks again, even though it saddens me to think of their fate.

Lon Dawson, Durant, Oklahoma

FROM LAND O' LAKES COUNTRY

It is a marvel to me that each issue of ARIZONA HIGHWAYS is even better than the last one. My September number came yesterday and has been read completely as is each one.

Having some Irish blood, I am glad you used a part of the Irish Blessing. The poem "The Roadrunner and I" is really beautiful.

Thank you for an outstanding publication.

Ruby Ellyson St. Paul, Minnesota

ROSS SANTEE

I know that you have used much of Ross Santee's books in ARIZONA HIGHWAYS.

In our San Jose paper, I read about a book of his. It's "Apache Land" with many of his drawings. It reads: first printed in 1947, has been brought out again by University of Nebraska Press as one of its Bison books, sells for $2.25. I tried at our local bookstore and they just said they could not get it for me. Is there any way that you could help me. I know that at times you do have some books available. I am a great admirer of Ross Santee's works. Thought this one would give me some of his work to own and enjoy.

Ruth Cowen Cupertino, California

Guidon Books 7117 Main Street Scottsdale, Arizona 85251 J. E. Reynolds 16031 Sherman Way Van Nuys, California 81406

OPPOSITE PAGE

View from the Patio Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum

BACK COVER

PHOTOGRAPHS BY THE MCLAUGHLINS