Dennis Anderson: He's now creating animal artistry

IN NORTHERN MINNESOTA — Identical twins, Bud and Ted Burger have been together forever, including during their time in the Air Force. The Vietnam War was under way when they enlisted, and the Air Force had a program whereby twins who signed up together could serve together.

A lot has happened since. Upon their discharge from the service, they founded Burger Brothers Sporting Goods, building a single store in 1970 at 44th and France in Edina. Their small chain of Twin Cities outlets grew to six by 1995, when they sold to the Erickson family of Holiday gas station fame. From the Burgers' stores, Gander Mountain was born.

Gone now from the retail world, and retired, after a fashion, Bud and Ted have moved with their wives up north, where they built homes on 400 picturesque acres in Beltrami County.

It's there amid red and white pines, and overlooking a placid northwoods lake that supports otters and cranes, ducks and loons, that Bud nurtures what might be called his first love: art.

A sculptor, he has developed a reputation nationally for his bronze renditions of everything from trout to moose, ruffed grouse to life-size whitetails.

"My father has been an artist all of his life, and in his retirement he was a painter,'' Bud said. "My grandfather also was an excellent artist. Maybe my interest came from them.''

The transition from outdoors-gear peddler to artist is perhaps not so big of a leap. Common to each is Bud's (and Ted's) love of, and fascination with, wildlife and the habitats they need to survive.

Common also to each was, and is, a dedication to excellence.

In fact, if a history of American sporting-goods retailing is ever written, the Burgers will occupy an important niche. Not only were they the first to bring multiple sporting-goods outlets to the Twin Cities, one of the world's most vibrant markets for such equipment, their trade was built on a straightforward notion: Employ knowledgeable, experienced staff to sell premium gear.

As important, the Burgers offered hands-on instruction to customers, teaching them everything from how to cast a fly rod to where to catch lake trout in the high Arctic.

All of which might seem like old hat today. "How-to'' seminars are now commonplace among outdoors retailers. But when Bud and Ted introduced the idea in this market, it was novel. Moreover, they had the advantage of serving customers hungry for knowledge at a time when technology was fast changing the types and varieties of hunting and fishing equipment on the market.

The Burgers also had the advantage of being smart. And they were first-rate in the field as hunters and anglers. So they knew what they were talking about.

"What helped perpetuate our business in large part were advancements occurring at that time in fishing rods, in clothing and in fishing electronics -- really in all areas of sporting goods,'' Bud said. "Also, when anglers started to become more species-oriented, they became more equipment-oriented. The same thing happened in hunting.''

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Bud Burger's sculpting studio is only a short distance from the home he shares with his wife, Jan. But many months pass before a sculpting of Bud's begun in the studio as unformed wax is showcased in the Burgers' home.

"I begin with a vision of what I want to do,'' Bud said. "I also have to figure out how a particular piece will be supported. In the case of my bronze of two elephants beneath an acacia tree, I needed to figure out how to support the tree and how to make sure that light that diffuses through the tree's limbs shades the animals below -- just like acacia trees in Africa do.''

Once a design is conceptualized, armatures are built to support the sculpture as it takes form. Specialized sculptor's tools can be purchased for this purpose. But Bud prefers dental instruments.

Employing what is referred to as the "lost wax'' method of sculpting, Bud composes subjects ranging from ruffed grouse to trophy whitetails, canvasback ducks, moose and other species.

Sizes of sculptures can vary. So can weights. The finished bronze of the two elephants beneath the acacia tree, for example, weighs nearly 300 pounds.

Converting a wax sculpture into a bronze showpiece is complicated, requiring a specialized foundry.

"In the case of the life-size deer I sculpted, the foundry cast the bronze in different pieces,'' Bud said. "Then we welded them together.'' Sophisticated and detailed finish work is required to create a flawless finished product that appears as if it were cast as a single piece.

Animated about his artwork, and enthusiastic, Bud the other day was no less excited about joining with Ted to show a visitor around their property. Trout swim in a pond they've dug. A custom smokehouse has been built to cure salmon. Somewhere in the distance is a duck blind.

Also, fishing plans made for the coming summer are detailed in terms of equipment that will be needed to make the trips successful.

In some ways, little is changed from the time years ago when similar conversations were held in Ted and Bud's signature store at 98th and Lyndale in Bloomington.

Or, in the 1970s, at their 44th and France outlet.

It's there that friends and I bought some of the best Duluth packs we ever toted. And where, on Saturday mornings, we could cast fly rods outside the store, rain or shine. And where tackle boxes full of walleye gear could be seen, touched and dreamed about.

Yet it's also true that times have changed. Ted and Bud have more time now to pursue their outdoors interests. But they don't travel as widely as they once did. They haven't been to Africa for a number of years, for example, and might not return.

In fact, much of their hunting and fishing is done closer to home, often on their own property.

At Bud's house, he wheeled a life-size bronze whitetail out of his garage. Popular with ranchers and others with large properties, the leaping trophy buck is testament both to an artist's touch and a peddler's persistence.

"Some people who sculpt do so with a specific price point in mind, because that's what their galleries want,'' Bud said. "I look at it from a different perspective. I want the animal and the habitat to be representative of what I and others have actually seen in the wild.

"I'm less concerned about price points. I'm creating art for art's sake.''

Dennis Anderson • danderson@ startribune.com