Ted Wilbur may not be not the best-known painter in his genre, but his 5,000 pilot hours and 600 carrier landings definitely mark him as unique in the field. Many other aviation artists work hard at cadging rides in military aircraft, but Wilbur has—in the current vernacular—“been there and done that.”
Captain Edward T. Wilbur, U.S. Naval Reserve (Retired), spent more than 30 years on active duty as an aviator, artist, and editor. He was instrumental in founding the Naval Safety Center, illustrating Approach magazine, and for 14 years was editor of Naval Aviation News. But for all that, he is best known for the super-realism of his art—so much so that a former aviator once asked me where I obtained the “color photo” on the cover of my third book, Corsair: the F4U in WW II and Korea. That was no photo; that was a Ted Wilbur painting.
Wilbur came to art naturally. At the family’s home in New York City, his father copied the Sunday comics for three- year-old Ted to fill in. He was especially impressed by Hal Foster and Clayton Knight, whose influence is evident in Wilbur’s early work: store posters and movie theater cards. The latter work was reinforced by a friend of the family, “A failed artist named Gary Cooper," Wilbur laughs. “I was painting in oils by the late 1930s, and some of my favorite subjects were scenes from his films.” Wilbur also wrote to his comic-strip idols, frequently receiving encouraging replies. “Hal Foster became a great friend,” Wilbur recalls. “He was best known for his Prince Valiant strip.”
During World War II, Wilbur worked as a draftsman in Todd Shipyards, where he gained a growing respect for the Navy. Though originally daunted at the prospect of becoming an aviator (“I thought that flying Navy airplanes was beyond me”), he decided, “1 was a dumb kid, but not stupid enough to pass up a great opportunity.”
As one of the handful of Flying Midshipmen recruited under the Holloway Program, Wilbur pinned on his wings of gold in 1950. His first fleet service was in night and special-mission squadrons flying all- weather AD Skyraiders. Recalling those days, he says, “I got spoiled by flying on my own a lot. We had special-weapons training in 1952, and I logged some 13- hour, minimum-altitude ‘butt-buster’ missions.” Though attrition was heavy, Wilbur regards that period as one of the happiest of his life, featuring “relatively cheap airplanes and wild guys” whose morale knew no bounds. “In those days we would fight each other for the night hops!”
Because his career began prior to the era of specialization, Wilbur experienced a tremendous variety of flying. Along with nocturnal missions and nuclear delivery, he also served in a development squadron, VX-3; an antisubmarine squadron, VS-27; and was a plankowner in VRC-40, the Navy’s first dedicated carrier on-board delivery (COD) unit. In all, he “trapped” on board 36 aircraft carriers. The variety was exceptional, and today Wilbur recalls, “1 flew every kind of aircraft but blimps.”
But Wilbur’s artistic talent eventually drew him farther and farther from the cockpit. In 1954, he was drafted into the establishment group of the Naval Safety Center as graphics director. “That was supposed to be for one year,” Wilbur recalls. Four years later he finally left Approach. He served concurrently in the Navy’s combat art program, covering Vanguard, Polaris, and nuclear-powered submarines, as well as the manned space program. In the latter capacity he also served as officer in charge of several flight-support missions for the Mercury project.
Wilbur obviously regards his time at the Safety Center as among the most important work of his career. “We knew that most pilots regard safety as dull,” he explains, “so we had to make it interesting to them.” Toward this end he devised such cartoon characters as “Will Riskit”—who bore a strong resemblance to actor Kirk Douglas—flight surgeon “Zip Suture” (a Burt Lancaster lookalike), and the shortlived “Francis McClobber.”
Wilbur created other characterizations that occasionally landed him in hot water. The March 1957 cover of Approach featured a salty-looking chief petty officer whom Wilbur modeled after a photo of “a tough-looking guy in civvies.” After 16,000 posters had been distributed throughout the fleet, Wilbur’s “tough guy” was recognized as Navy Secretary Charles S. Thomas. Following some “face time” in the Pentagon, Wilbur presented Mr. Thomas with the original painting, then scampered back to “a much safer job flying off pitching decks on dark, rainy nights.”
Wilbur concludes that recent Navy Secretaries seem to lack Secretary Thomas’s sense of humor.
Though successful, the Safety Center and Approach jobs lasted about five years and, Wilbur admits, “almost killed me career-wise.” But he feels that the people he worked with—“Great guys like Bob Brewer and Bill Scarborough”—made it worthwhile. (Brewer became a U.S. Naval Institute Proceedings editor and Scarborough an award-winning aviation historian.)
Wilbur also developed an abiding philosophy, an attitude toward problem solving, through innovative designers like George Hoover, inventor of the advanced cockpit and the “highway in the sky.” Of the cockpit display system Wilbur says, “It’s still a terrific idea, but hasn’t been effectively sold.”
Despite such setbacks, Wilbur always felt that a naval aviator should be able to do almost anything. “Whether you’re painting or flying, the methodology is the same,” he insists.
“Define the problem, apply the best talent by giving the job to strong leaders, and sell the hell out of it.” Today he is more convinced than ever, but he laments the lack of strong leadership in the Navy and the attendant loss of salesmanship. “Look around,” he says. “The Navy is losing not only bases, ships, and aircraft, but roles and missions. We ought to go back and take another look at how Polaris came to fruition.”
If the service has failed to sell its excellent product fully, Wilbur’s own work has no such shortcoming. Aside from a long string of commissions, he has been published in Proceedings and the Naval Institute lithograph series. Additionally, he has sold to general markets such as Smithsonian, Time, True, and Saturday Review magazines. More recently, Wilbur has relieved cartoonist Robert Osborne as illustrator of the Grampaw Pettibone aviation safety column in Naval Aviation News.
Despite his success, Wilbur wryly insists, “I don’t know anything about art,” adding that he just seeks a degree of realism that strikes a chord among other aviators. With no formal training, he developed his own style, influenced strongly by his extensive flying experience. “For instance, clouds are different; they all have meanings. An experienced pilot can look at an aviation painting and immediately see whether the artist knows what he’s doing.” As for favorite aircraft, Wilbur admits that the Skyraider comes close: “It could do everything except go fast,” he enthuses. But he concedes that the F4U Corsair is probably “the most dramatic" naval aircraft.
There is also a generational continuity to the story. As Ted blossomed under his father’s encouragement, so has his own son Morgan, a prominent illustrator. Now retired from the Naval Reserve as a P-3 Orion crewman, the younger Wilbur is a staffer at Professional Pilot magazine.
Whether a bow-on look at the NC-4 or a wingtip perspective of a Boeing F4B, the aviation art of Ted Wilbur is testament to an artist who has lived his subject. As such, his work continues to educate, to record, and to inspire.
