An
infantryman during World War II, after demobilization Arnold Friberg
set up his studio in San Francisco. In 1947, he was asked to join the
faculty of the new School of Fine Arts being set up by Dean Avard
Fairbanks, who was hired away from the University of Michigan and who
wanted a name artist to teach painting and inject a new discipline
into the commercial art courses.
In
1950 Friberg was commissioned to do a painting commemorating the
centennial of the first Mormon Sunday School, which had been
established in a log cabin by a Scottish convert. I believe this was
first published in The Instructor magazine. This was
the first Friberg art I can recall seeing.
It
was seen by Adele Cannon Howells, the head of the Primary
Association. She wanted Arnold to make a series of 12 paintings
illustrating scenes from the Book of Mormon that could be used to
teach children.
At
this time, Cecil B DeMille was engaged in a frustrating worldwide
search for an artist who could design costumes for the epic motion
picture he was about to remake. He had not found any artist whose
work he liked. A Swedish publisher had seen reproductions of the
first Book of Mormon paintings and suggested that DeMille check out
the artist.
DeMille
asked Arnold if he would come to Hollywood for a month as a
consultant. After the month, Arnold went home. But DeMille sent
Friberg a request that he put his other obligations on hold and join
his production company until the movie was finished.
Perhaps
as a manifestation of his Scandinavian character, Arnold did not want
to go. He had the Book of Mormon paintings to finish. Adele Cannon
had raised her own money to pay for the commission, and the night
before she died she had made Arnold promise he would finish them.
Looking
for an excuse not to go back to Hollywood, Arnold sought out
President David O. McKay, certain that President McKay would hold him
to his commitment.
President
McKay said to Arnold, in effect, the chance to work on this movie
with DeMille was a chance of a lifetime. He should take it. The Book
of Mormon illustrations can wait until the movie is finished, he
said.
So
Arnold returned to Hollywood — and stayed four years.
Duties
that began as costume design expanded. As the two men worked together
their relationship grew. DeMille would ask Friberg how he visualized
a scene, and Arnold would paint it, and the painting would become the
visual template for that part of the movie.
Arnold Friberg, Parting of the Red Sea
Arnold Friberg, Moses and the Burning Bush
Arnold Friberg, The Giving of the Law
When
the motion picture was finished DeMille produced a souvenir book that
said:
The
magnificent series of Arnold Friberg paintings in this book indicates
why he has achieved fame as one of the greatest living interpreters
of Biblical subjects. Combining rare artistic skill with a profound
respect for the most minute historical details, he has imbued his
paintings with dynamic realism unsurpassed by any contemporary
religious artists. Cecil B. DeMille knew the thundering drama in
Exodus and Deuteronomy demanded such an artist.
During
preparations for shooting The Ten Commandments, Mr. DeMille
lined the walls of his office with Friberg’s paintings. Friberg
also designed the costumes for the principal men ...
Demille
added his personal testimony: Among living artists who have
dedicated themselves … to religious art, one stands out for
his virility and warmth, dramatic understanding and truth. That man
is Arnold Friberg. His fine paintings were a tremendous help to our
art directors, cameramen, costume designers, screenwriters, and
actors. Arnold Friberg’s work has been an inspiration to all of
us from his profound reverence and knowledge, as well as his superb
artistry.
Friberg’s
paintings were exhibited all over the world, and more than a million
copies of the book were printed and sold. It is unlikely any other
living artist ever had that kind of public exposure.
He
was nominated for an academy award in costume design.
In
the vibrant, variegated world of art, there are powerful academics,
critics, artists, and bystanders who believe that narrative art and
illustrative art is not good art and, even if it were good, cannot be
great.
At
a time when American Pop Art was coming on strong, there was another
movement centered in Paris called Op Art (Op for Optical). This art
was based upon geometrical manipulation and was sometimes described
as hard-edged. The gifted international high priest for this
expression was Hungarian-born Victor Vasarely.
The
high priestess was Denise René, who ruled the Op Art world
from her Right Bank Paris gallery. One afternoon Denise scolded me
without reservation. “All other art is decadent!” She
meant every non-Op expression from any period, not just hers.
It
is perfectly all right for any gallery to decide to specialize.
Sometimes that is the key to survival, if not prosperity. But to put
on blinders and see no good in any other expression is unbelievably
narrow. The sad thing is that people who put on blinders miss a lot
of rich visual experience. (This is true as well for individuals who
cannot abide anything that is not easily recognizable.)
Friberg
came in a long line of narrative or illustrating artists that goes
back for centuries. On the American side there has been a passel of
illustrators, good artists who are loved and esteemed. They bridge
several generations, from Thomas Cole, who painted four paintings on
the Voyage of Life in 1842 and which have their own elegant
room in the National Gallery at Washington, to Norman Rockwell, who
has his own museum in Stockbridge, MA.
In
between them you have Frederick Remington , Charles Russell , and a
host of other well-known Western illustrators.
When
I think about Friberg, I like to quote a statement by Dr. Jonathan
Fairbanks, distinguished curator emeritus, the Museum of Fine Art in
Boston, a good landscape painter in his own right, and a friend of
Arnold’s for more than half a century, and through whom I met
Arnold:
In
an era that seems dedicated to celebrating mediocrity — when
the lowest common denominator governs much of our marketplace —
it is refreshing to know an artist who is able and willing to swim
successfully against currents of fashion and eloquently affirm his
faith in mankind. His works show a reverence for nature in all its
remarkable manifestations... The glory of the western American
landscape, the magnificent of the horse, and the nobility of human
endeavor are just a few of the many themes in Friberg’s art —
an art that makes history seem to live.
These
were the qualities that Cecil B. DeMille found in Arnold Friberg —
not only in his art but in his soul — that bound the two men,
working together, like father and son.
Lawrence Jeppson is an art consultant, organizer and curator of art exhibitions, writer, editor
and publisher, lecturer, art historian, and appraiser. He is America's leading authority on
modern, handwoven French tapestries. He is expert on the works of William Henry Clapp, Nat
Leeb, Tsing-fang Chen, and several French artists.
He is founding president of the non-profit Mathieu Matégot Foundation for Contemporary
Tapestry, whose purview encompasses all 20th-century tapestry, an interest that traces back to
1948. For many years he represented the Association des Peintres-Cartonniers de Tapisserie and
Arelis in America.
Through the Smithsonian Institution Traveling Exhibition Service, the American Federation of
Arts, the Museum of Modern Art, and his own Art Circuit Services he has been a contributor to
or organizer of more than 200 art exhibitions in the United States, Canada, Japan, and Taiwan.
He owns AcroEditions, which publishes and/or distributes multiple-original art. He was co-founder and artistic director of Collectors' Investment Fund.
He is the director of the Spring Arts Foundation; Utah Cultural Arts Foundation, and the Fine
Arts Legacy Foundation
Lawrence is an early-in-the-month home teacher, whose beat is by elevator. In addition, he has spent the past six years hosting and promoting reunions of the missionaries who served in the French Mission (France, Belgium, and Switzerland) during the decade after WWII.