Cardboard Canvases: Artist Frederick Stivers

There is a quiet disarray that surrounds most of Frederick Stivers artwork. It reminds one of the ripples left on the surface of a stream right after some trout has lunged at a mayfly. You know something arresting is lurking nearby if you know where to focus.

That’s because Stivers is known for sketching hauntingly realistic images of the wilderness he loves on any surface he can find. If you squint your eyes enough, you could swear that the wildlife and characters he encounters along the streams he fishes, the duck blinds he haunts, and the forests he roams are alive in his art. They could turn and give you a knowing smile at any minute.

His art lives in the unlikeliest of places. The canvases he works on are the battered interior of a 12-pack beer wrap, a back side of a parking ticket, or an unfolded shell box. Anything at hand will work. Often using nothing more than a pencil or charcoal, he can be found hunched over his workbench or out in the field documenting the world around him. It was a passion that bloomed early in his life.

“I find that there is a certain beauty found in the world that I just must document. I like the little details that make things seem real and bury them into my images. Hopefully, people feel like they are there when they see my art. I want them to feel a connection with the natural beauty that surrounds us all.”

Growing up in central Illinois, he would spend his weekends fishing and roaming the prairie lands with his family. It was there that his love of the outdoors was born. That passion pulled him into the American West to pursue a career in architecture. When he wasn’t traipsing along trails or chasing trout through mountain streams, he was crisscrossing the country for work.

On one such trip to New York City, his seatmate noticed his bamboo fly rod tucked next to his seat in his case and struck up a conversation. Little did he know that he had just stepped onto the unforeseen trail that would soon lead him into new territory.

Stivers had sketched a cutthroat trout onto the back of his boarding pass that caught his neighbor’s eye. He planned on heading upstate to wet some line in the Salmon River once his meetings were concluded. The guy loved it.

Several months later, he received a call from Flyfish Journal. The man on the flight was author Peter Fong, and he wanted Stivers to illustrate his next story for the publication.

Stivers took the bait and has been working with some of the leading outdoor publications since. His illustrations and paintings add a grain of realism to each story he works with; they transport a reader.

“Words can be so loaded. I like to think that my images give people the leeway to interpret what they see in their own way. They can feel the story being told and hopefully inhabit for just a bit.”

The life of an artist can be chaotic, especially one with two children under seven years old. Stivers house is littered with hunting and fishing gear, plus a never-ending array of kid’s toys. Working out of a small studio tucked into a corner is his refuge. A couple of racks of deer antlers hand on a bare brick wall. His worktable is coated in layers of paper, cardboard, and assorted other surfaces, all brimming with his sketches.

A pair of rubber boots with dried mud flaking off lie crumpled near an easel where he is finishing up a painting. His Gordon Setter, Peaty, whom he traded some art for while hunting for some prairie chickens, lounges nearby. Two pups chew on a toy next to a sizeable glass-topped cabinet packed with flies.

After finishing his latest drawing, he will start loading up his truck with his tackle, hip waders, and poles. Tomorrow is Tuesday, his usual fishing day. After spending a few hours wetting his line, he is sure to sidle up on the bank and start to document the natural beauty surrounding him. On whatever he can lay his hands on.