Nationally, he was known for his patriotic paintings and portraits of square-jawed Canadian Mounties.
But in Utah — and among Mormons — he was the man who gave the world those marvelous, muscle-bound Book of Mormon prophets.
When Arnold Friberg died earlier this week at age 96, he left behind the definitive version of Mormon, Nephi, Captain Moroni and dozens of other Book of Mormon figures.
I think of Yul Brynner's portrayal of the king in the "King and I." His performance was so powerful and passionate that every actor who has since played the part has had to deal with Brynner's version. You either did a homage to Brynner or tried to do something completely different.
So with Friberg and his Book of Mormon prophets.
He set them in stone.
And everyone has a favorite depiction.
Mine is Abinadi, lashed and defiant before King Noah. The sinewy prophet looks as tough as a strip of beef jerky, while Noah, cowering and fleshy, looks like a pre-Columbian Jabba the Hutt. Even the king's pet jaguar looks intimidated.
But then every Book of Mormon painting by Friberg became seared into the Mormon mind — Samuel the Lamanite on the wall, Nephi and his famous headband, Lehi looking heavenward and the valiant Stripling Warriors.
All looked larger than life.
All seemed ready to burst off the page.
Each was a spiritual body punch.
I remember asking painter Darryl Erdmann — a boyhood friend who does bold, colorful abstracts — what his first thought was when he approached a blank canvas.
"I think, keep it strong, keep it strong," he said.
I somehow suspect Friberg came at his work with the same thought.
Not everyone loved those prophet paintings, of course. Some felt they came dangerously close to caricature — as if Norman Rockwell had taken a correspondence course from the boys at Marvel Comics. Some wrote the paintings off as Modernism, about three generations too late.
Still, the proof a painting is in its staying power. And Friberg's works will not only stay in the culture but stay in the mind of anyone who sees them.
Like an old soldier, the painter himself has now faded away.
But his pictures never will.
For generations of Mormons, when someone says the name Helaman or King Noah or Nephi, the image that will come to mind will be the image Friberg gave the world.
He was the visual Book of Mormon.
He was, to borrow a title from Brynner's king of Siam, the master.
e-mail: jerjohn@desnews.com