bill tsukuda

Flipping through Time tonight I found out Frank Frazetta had died earlier this week. It might now be evident in what I generally do, and it might generally only be acceptable in the hoity-doity circles to only admit to liking Frazetta as a guilty pleasure, but I have to say that he was probably more important in shaping what I do than Ingres, Schiele, Diebenkorn, and just about any other hallowed artist with a capital “A” could ever be.

Frazetta’s art was the most fulfilling thing to look at as a 12-14 year-old kid; it’s everything that a young boy going through puberty could ask for. It’s dripping with hormones, with it’s virile men, fecund women, violence, excitement, and everything that thirteen year-olds love. At that time, while looking at his illustrations, all I could think was “I want to make pictures like this”. During high school, Frazetta was the template for probably half of what I cranked out (with a weird mix of fellow San Josean Mark Tansey).

I think I grew up at some point, and outgrew Frazetta as inspiration, but looking back, I have to thank the man for providing a certain honesty (and not to mention awesomeness) in what he was doing. It wasn’t high art, but it was a trigger for wanting to make images.