Raymond Thunder-Sky

For those of us who saw him around town, toting his toolbox and clad in coveralls, hard hat and his signature clown collar, the late Raymond Thunder-Sky was often described as "the construction clown." For the select few who actually interacted with him, Thunder-Sky was considered a hardship case at worst -- and a visionary performance artist at best. Son of Richard Brightfire Thunder-Sky, a former bit-part Hollywood actor and the last hereditary chief of the Mohawk tribe, Raymond and his brother, Michael, spent their childhood in Los Angeles, Chicago, Toledo and, eventually, Cincinnati.

While their father learned various trades to support his wife, who lost her vision after bearing children, Raymond and Michael struggled in school and had difficulties adapting to social norms. After a series of strokes, their father was confined to a wheelchair and eventually died in a V.A. hospital, leaving little behind for his family. Although neither brother made it past the 10th grade, both eventually found find work and shared an apartment early on in their adult lives. Before Raymond left home, however, his mother began to hear comments from neighbors about his bizarre attire, which her blindness prevented her from seeing.

Though his quirky makeover probably was an early sign of Raymond's autism, it also marked the spawning of an urban presence that mystified Cincinnatians for nearly two decades. Many people had stories about him, most of which are a far cry from who he really was. Some claim they saw him eating from garbage cans and offered to buy him lunch; in truth, he worked a series of steady jobs until health complications prevented him from doing so. In addition to an 11-year stint at Ogden Entertainment, Raymond worked for Goodwill Industries and the Westin Hotel, where he dressed normally.

At the Westin, his artistic talents began to flourish. While working in the kitchen there, it was discovered that he had a penchant for precision ice sculpture. His talents were put to work, and his works adorned party trays and buffets for hotel guests. This marked a turning point in Raymond's life: His compulsion to wear hardhats and clown collars and his fascination with construction sites culminated in a simple, therapeutic and purposeful mission -- making art. Even a cursory examination of his works shows there was more to Raymond Thunder-Sky than clowning around downtown with a toolbox.

He was prolific, leaving behind approximately 2,000 drawings at the time of his death. His works offered history, humor and insight. While his autism affected his speech, Raymond's drawings include draftsman-like precision, cunning quips and sardonic social commentary. Based on actual demolition sites that he frequented and used subjects for his drawings, his compositions often replaced demolished buildings with what he saw fit to build. In one drawing, he depicted the Southern Ohio Correctional Facility being torn down to build the Mohawk Freeway; another showed a pile driver laying the foundation for Clownville Amusement Park.

By infusing his own creations into the existing landscape, Raymond followed a longstanding tradition of artists including William Blake, who once stated that since the world didn't make sense, he had to create one of his own.

Considering his unusual family history, flair for clown costumes and untimely death on Oct. 28, 2004, the recent Thunder-Sky buzz around Cincinnati is no surprise. His works have appeared locally in places like Taylor Jameson's salon and Shake It Records, but his art has been seen nationally -- several of his pieces are owned by outsider art collectors Maggie and Richard Wenstrup. Keep a watchful eye open for major tribute shows and citywide Thunder-Sky exhibitions in early 2005, organized by Visionaries and Voices (www.visionariesandvoices.com), a nonprofit organization devoted to artists with disabilities where his work was often shown.