By Bruce Ross, Executive Director
This article originally appeared in Wisconsin Waterfowl Association’s January 2020 Newsletter edition.
My wife, Pam, and I are fans of Tom Uttech, a Wisconsin painter and photographer. Tom is internationally recognized for his mystical, supersized landscapes, distinctly identifiable as the Northwoods where he spent his youth, or as the Canadian shield where he frequently travels. Gnarled pines and tamaracks, boreal outcroppings, mirrored smooth waters and sky, mammals and birds of all sorts, and in very large numbers, are featured in much of his work. And sometimes, supernatural creatures native to nowhere can be discovered in his paintings. His art is in high demand, commands 6-figure prices, and is included the Smithsonian collection.
Saturday, we attended an “artist’s talk” Tom gave at a local museum which had showcased his work over the past few months. It was standing room only, with hundreds eager to hear him expound on his work. Tom answered questions on which stylistic school or another had influenced his work, the role Jungian dreams may have played in creating his ethereal art, and which was his favorite bear (they recur frequently in his work). He answered each question politely, and thoroughly, and entertainingly. But when asked about the role hunting may have played in his art, he lit up: “That’s a good question!”
Tom recalled – with nostalgic incredulity – eagerly getting up at 3 a.m. on school days, taking his homemade “telephone pole” decoys to the river, and from his reclaimed plywood boat, watching the sun rise to paint the world in the hues found in his work today, “as near to magical as you can get.” And then hurrying back for the opening school bell. Limited harvest success did little to dampen his enthusiasm.
Today, at 78, Tom hunts only deer, but harbors no expectations of dropping a mighty buck. Rather, he embraces this time afield to reflect, and to absorb; to “vision-quest”.
As waterfowlers, we get this – a marsh at dusk is a magical place to cradle a cup of coffee, or to converse with a duck. Like Tom, we are somehow recharged by the experience, full game bag or not.
But now, I am left wondering what other fantastical inspirations our Wisconsin wetlands may be fueling, and in which young minds.