Art: Rare Bird

From prehistoric time onward man has been fascinated by the image of birds. The owl has been interpreted as the symbol of wisdom on the one hand and of evil on the other, the raven as a sign of death and of victory. To the Egyptians the hawk represented the sun god; to early Christians the goldfinch depicted the crucifixion. Seldom has this multiform fascination been better illustrated than in the 160 paintings, bronzes, jugs, vases and primitive musical instruments on show last week at the Seattle Art Museum, a display ranging from a bird-shaped Chinese ritual vessel done around 1100 B.C. to the hopping-mad, moonstruck sea gulls and cranes of Northwest Moderns Mark Tobey and Morris Graves.

White Jade in Hong Kong. To most Seattleites, the man behind their “Bird in Art” show is perhaps the rarest bird of all: Millionaire Museum Director Richard E. Fuller, 59, Manhattan-born, Yale-educated cousin of Novelist J. P. Marquand. With his mother, the late Mrs. Margaret Fuller, Art Patron Fuller put up $300,000 in 1933 to build Seattle’s hilltop museum. Fuller has served as president and full-time director ever since. In return, Seattle awarded him its first “Man of the Year” civic-service award in 1951.

Director Fuller came by his money through his father, a pioneering Manhattan urological surgeon with a canny eye for investments. His taste in art he owes to his mother, who began collecting Chinese antiques and Oriental snuff bottles in 1918, later took the whole Fuller family on a year-long junket through the Far East. Recalls Fuller: “I bought a small white jade in Hong Kong, and from then on nothing has been quite the same.” Settling in Seattle, Fuller earned a Ph.D. in geology, a field in which he has won professional recognition, and revitalized Seattle’s Northwest Glass Co. (he is now chairman of the board). But art remained his deepest interest, and trips to South America, Europe, and the Middle East broadened his knowledge in the field.

Glass in the Pocket. Dr. Fuller’s well-padded pocketbook has allowed him to move fast when he sees a bargain. What makes his position enviable and almost unique among U.S. museum men is that, as unpaid director and one of the principal backers of the museum, he can run his show as he pleases. As an aid to on-the-spot decisions, he always carries in his pocket a 14-power geologist’s magnifying glass, noting that “in some ways both art and geology are a matter of trained observation.” One peek into the top of some towering packing cases was all Fuller needed to decide on the monumental Chinese stone figures that now stand on the museum’s sweeping front lawn. Checking on imports from the Orient (a service” the museum performs gratis for some art importers) has also tipped Fuller off to good buys, set him up to get in first bids to dealers. Thanks to Fuller, the museum today owns the only Japanese broken ink scroll by Sesshu (TIME, May 14) outside Japan; its 16th century Japanese water jar (bought by Fuller for $1,600) is a mate to one of Japan’s “national treasures.”‘

Despite his deep interest in the ancient and the Oriental, Seattle’s Fuller firmly believes that “it is a museum’s duty to support local people and to spur local art of quality.” As a result, he has played a key role in promoting the Northwest’s regional school, which includes such top artists as Tobey, Graves, Kenneth Callahan and Guy Anderson. One Seattle art dealer summed up Patron-Director Fuller’s contribution with feeling: “Dr. Fuller has brought art to the Northwest and the art of the Northwest to the world.”