Leslie C. Kouba, dean of Minnesota's wildlife
artists, is a self-made man who describes himself as 52 percent businessman and 48 percent
artist. "I've made my way in this world by following three principles: First, pick
the thing you like to do best; then, learn everything you can about it; and finally, be
willing to work harder than anyone else in that field. Kouba's secret to success: work.
It's that simple."
Les Kouba is a celebrity
who loves the public. If you happen by the American Wildlife Galleries in the Plymouth
Building on Sixth Street in downtown Minneapolis, there is a good chance you will meet
him. He's the guy who wears confidence like a second set of clothes. His gray hair is
slicked straight back off the forehead. His trifocal glasses perch on his nose above a
mustache waxed to a razor sharp point. His bolo tie is looped around his shirt collar and
his customary plaid sports jacket hangs on a rack in the corner. His blue eyes flash and
sparkle as he spins yarns and dispenses bits and pieces of homespun wisdom to anyone
within earshot. At 71, Kouba enjoys life.
Comfortably sitting in his
favorite chair, Kouba leans back and with a twinkle in his eye, he says: "You know,
this rooster was hatched during a big snow storm. I arrived on February 3, 1917, during a
whale of a blizzard at Hutchinson, a small picturesque town in west central Minnesota. I
was born on a farm about two miles east of town. My parents, Anthony and Sophie Kouba,
were first generation Americans. Their parents had emigrated to this country from Prague,
Czechoslovakia.
"I was the middle
child with a brother on each side of me. My parents owned their own small dairy operation.
Those were the days," says Kouba, " when you had a handful of chickens, a patch
of dirt for a vegetable garden, a few pigs and a dozen milk cows. You tried to scratch out
a living any way you could. My Grandpa Philipi, my mother's father, had 120 colonies of
bees, and, as you well know," says Kouba with a hearty laugh, "that's a pretty
sweet business selling that honey stuff."
The farm not only provided
the Kouba family with a means to earn a living, but it also served as a never-ending
playground for three active boys. Les, with brothers Harry and Ernie in tow, often roamed
the surrounding fields and woods absorbing the lessons of nature as they went along.
Kouba's favorite companion
on these outdoor adventures was his dog, Bobby. "He was the best friend I had when I
was growing up. He was just a mutt, nothing fancy, but I loved him all the same,"
says Kouba. "I remember one time when he seemed to have disappeared. I didn't think
much of it at first, but after three days I figured he was a goner. I was completely
heartbroken. It was Thanksgiving Day and I took a walk out in the plowed field to hunt
jackrabbits. As I looked around for rabbits, I spotted something hanging from the top of
the fence. It was Bobby. Somehow, when he was out chasing jackrabbits, he got tangled up
in the woven wire fence and couldn't free himself. He was in pretty rough shape when I
found him. I carried him home and we nursed him back to health. We put Watkins' Carbolic
Salve, the ointment in the tin, on his damaged leg-that brown stuff could cure anything.
He ended up having three good legs instead of four, but it never seemed to bother him
chasing after those jackrabbits. We had a lot to be thankful for that Thanksgiving.
"My father,"
continues Kouba, "contributed to my early appreciation of nature. He taught me a lot
of the little tricks in hunting, trapping, and later, fishing. He instilled in me at an
early age, the sheer enjoyment of being outdoors. Back when I was a kid, it was really
something to go hunting. Those were the days when the ducks and geese were so plentiful
that the sky turned black when the flocks passed by overhead. These experiences were so
exciting to me that I started to portray these happenings on bits of paper that I always
carried with me. Consequently, I drew my impressions of birds, game animals, big game and
fish-everything across the board. Because I actually hunted, I developed an early
understanding of all the background skills necessary to be successful at my future career
as a wildlife artist."
Kouba decided early in
life that farming wasn't for him. "I knew I could draw when I was about 8 years old.
I think I made up my mind about then that I wanted to be an artist when I grew up. In
fact," says Kouba, "many of the buildings on the farm still show traces of my
early enthusiastic attempts at painting. And I was quite convinced I was on the right
track when I sold my first painting at age 11 to a prosperous German farmer who lived near
Hutchinson.
"That first painting
was of a deer at the water's edge with some pine trees in the background," remembers
Kouba. "It was something that I had created completely myself. I had hardly any
materials-just junk-whatever I was able to pick up on the farm. I used a two-foot wide
piece of upson board for my canvas. At that time, upson board was used for attic
insulation. I did it in oil paints, and 'oil' in those days meant anything that wasn't
watercolor. I used just about any kind of pigment I could lay my hands on-house paint,
implement paint, and enamels-you name it.
"I sold that painting
for eight dollars, a king's ransom in those days," says Kouba. "It doesn't seem
like much by today's standards, but keep in mind that was in 1928, 'when a dime was as big
as a wagon wheel.' To put it into perspective, my father's total income from his dairy
business was $22 for the month."
That early sale went a
long way in convincing Kouba's parents that his artistic skills were worth developing. Art
talent, however, was nothing new to Kouba's father, Tony. He had the gift to draw and his
father-in-law, Grandpa Philipi, was quite a penman "beautiful Spencerian script and
calligraphy. He was also a master cabinet maker and carpenter," remembers Kouba.
"My brother Ernie was
a real good artist, too. I asked him once why he hadn't stayed with it. He said: 'I'll
tell you why. I'd do a painting and then I'd look at yours and I figured, forget it. I'd
never catch up with that dude."'
Delores Saar, a childhood
friend of Kouba's, remembers visiting one day and being greeted with a bed sheet stretched
across the wall. "Les and his brother Harry were always into one thing or
another," says Saar. "It seems on this occasion, the Kouba brothers had invented
a type of movie projector. Les drew pictures of an airplane in different positions on a
piece of glass. The strip of glass was inserted into the 'projector,' a device made from a
flashlight and a handful of other odds-and-ends. By moving the glass strip, the image of
the airplane was projected onto the 'screen' giving the illusion that the airplane was
moving across the wall. It was really something."
Kouba's parents supported
Les's interest in art by enrolling him at age 14 in a correspondence course sponsored by
the Federal Schools in Minneapolis.
"The name has been
changed since I went there," says Kouba. "It's now known as Art Instruction, the
'Draw-Me' school. It offers all the basics but it doesn't overly influence technique. You
don't end up painting like your instructor. I really learned a lot from that school. I
will always be thankful that I had the opportunity to take the course.

"Many artists I've found today," says Kouba, "could benefit from some of
those early lessons."
"Frankly," he
adds, "this correspondence course was a wonderful opportunity for me. I could fit it
in with my farm chores and after school sports. I could have my training and not be nailed
down to a certain schedule. Right to this day, at age 71, I like that kind of
flexibility."
This information was taken from Kouba's book, The Legacy of Les C. Kouba,
p 11-12. |
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