Art or Just Fluffing Around? Classic and Artistic Fly Tying

By Ryan Houston

Like most, I started fly fishing before I got into fly tying. I was around nine years old and the small brownie I caught couldn’t have known what it was starting. By the second outing I’d tied my first fly, a mess of black and yellow hackle and seal fur, but I caught a trout on it. Since then I’ve bought maybe a dozen flies, and most of those were to take apart and see how it was done.

There was an extremely active competitive fishing scene locally. I didn’t realise at the time but it was also the creative drive behind my tying. I’d come back after a day working the river and improve my flies for next time. I went on to fish for Ireland twice but fly tying was now taking up more time than fishing, and I wanted to see where I could go in the field. I entered some tying competitions just to see how others would rate my work and I ended up winning the Masters’ Leagues.

I started getting serious about competition fly tying. It’s an arena that demands you scrutinise every wrap of thread, every turn of tinsel and spot every stray fibre to become a perfectionist, or so I thought. It was shortly after when I first picked up Mike Radencich’s book, Tying the Classic Salmon Fly, and things were never to be the same again, not least my bank balance.

After all my competition success, I was convinced I could tie a good fly, but the patterns in Radencich’s book completely blew my mind and I had to give them a go. I’d jumped in at the deep end and found I was out of my depth. Those first flies weren’t great but tying these patterns is about trial and error in search for perfection.

Interspersed between the classics in the book were artistic patterns I couldn’t even imagine tying back then. As my tying improved I found myself drawn to them, and realised that I wanted to be able to tie everything. I’d skip from project to project. When I’d worked out how to do something I’d move swiftly on. Messing around with materials would reveal an unusual characteristic of a feather and I’d think to myself, “I wonder if that would work?” and I’d set off on that tangent. It may sound a chaotic process but this is how I developed my style.

I became active on a few forums but focused on classicflytying.com where there’s an amazing community of the world’s classic fly tiers. The board covers classic and artistic salmon fly forums, and it’s great to have your work critiqued by master tiers from all over the world who readily offer opinions and guidance. Sometimes you can’t see the way forward until it’s pointed out to you. Some are die-hard in one or the other camp (I hang out in both), so artistic flies are sometimes misunderstood. I like deconstructing patterns, stripping them down to raw components and then putting them back together in radical ways. This offends the sensibilities of some of the classic dudes but provokes thought in all of them.

One of the most fundamental tenements of tying salmon flies is the continuity of flow– the fly should have a living quality to it, achieved by graceful curves and thoughtful association between materials as one melds into the next, be it in lines or colours. In the artistic realm, flow is not always so apparent and this is what divides the dig it and not for me camps. Some flies are designed and constructed with harsh contrasts and sharp, unnatural angles. The flow is there, it just demands a more lateral view be applied.

I continually explore and search for new materials (online auction sites are also part of the addiction) which then influence the creative process. I’ll rarely plan a fly but see where the flow takes me, which is sometimes nowhere…and then sometimes, something very special emerges. This is how I developed my butterfly patterns using larger, complete feathers. They really are stunning as whole entities and too large to use whole in any classic or conventional salmon fly. I certainly wasn’t comfortable with the idea of cutting them down in size.

The first attempts at creating butterfly patterns were a little crude. Refinement of technique and the account balance depletion from buying fancy feathers rewarded me with some spectacular creations. It was at this point that my wife, Dana, sat up and took notice. Before this she really had very limited interest in my fly tying. The butterflies were different, and they grabbed her attention. Now all butterflies are “Property of Dana”.  She even joins in with the creative process, looking at the different feather options for the wings. I enjoy and value her input—the female perspective.

I’m not sure where this will take me next but I’m enjoying the colourful journey.

Ryan is a veterinary surgeon by profession and a multi Gold medal winner in the UK and Ireland tying Master Leagues. Classic and artistic fly tying is his forte and he ties at fairs across the globe. His creations are available to buy via robertryan_houston@yahoo.com