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A rare West coast exhibit of the works of Al Hirschfeld opened last evening at the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences in Beverly Hills.  It's free, it's there through 1/20/02 and you can get the hours (and a sneak peek at a few choice items) by clicking on this link.  If you're in New York and want to glimpse Hirschfeld originals, you can o.d. at the Margo Feiden Gallery, which is on Madison Avenue between 62nd and 63rd Streets…plus, Mr. Hirschfeld has been so prolific that there are a number of theaters and libraries around Manhattan with semi-permanent exhibits.  Indeed, it is not at all difficult if you're on that island to get a glimpse of originals by the one and only Al Hirschfeld.  But an exhibit in Los Angeles is a rare treat and for Mr. Hirschfeld, age 97, to take the train out to appear at last night's opening is even rarer.

A packed house — the theater seats 1,012 — enjoyed film clips and listened intently as Robert Osborne conducted a warm, informative interview with the world's greatest celebrity-renderer.  (It's a little difficult to hang a more specific job description than "artist" on what Hirschfeld does.  He doesn't cotton to the term "caricaturist," while "cartoonist" seems woefully inadequate.)

One drawing that is not included in the new exhibit is the above rendering of the operator of this website, the original to which is huge and on my wall.  In 1992, a TV producer for whom I'd worked arranged as a "thank-you" present for me to meet and sit for a caricature by the esteemed Mr. Hirschfeld.  The drawing, complete with three NINAs secreted in my hair, turned out to be the second-best part of the gift.  To spend an afternoon with the man was even better.

I arrived at his home precisely at 1 PM, as instructed, with photos I could leave for his later reference.  It turned out there had been a miscommunication — he thought it was 2:00 and was out — but that was okay.  I spent a lovely hour chatting with Dolly, his wife of more than 50 years, and a former actress whose career dated back to D.W. Griffith.  (Dolly has since passed away and Al has remarried.)

When Mr. Hirschfeld arrived, apologizing profusely and needlessly, he led me up four floors of stairs (it felt like nine) to the studio where he draws in his trusty barber's chair.  There I sat, self-consciously, as he did a few sketches of my puss.  Having spent much of his life drawing in dark theaters, he never once glanced at the pad of paper, but I did.  The roughs, in dark pencil, were dead-on as caricatures but decidedly more angular and exaggerated than his familiar style.  I asked and he explained that they were only for him — he almost never allows his roughs to be seen — and that, when he does the finished work, he "pretties up" his subjects.  "People would kill me," he explained, "if I drew them in print the way I draw them in my quick studies."

We spoke very little of cartooning and indeed, his studio was largely devoid of the kind of books, paraphernalia and even art supplies I have seen in every other cartoonist's work space I've visited.  One section was taken up with antique shadow puppets; another, with theatre books and memorabilia.  Apart from the barber chair and drawing table, the only clues as to the occupation of the resident were a small shelf of pens, pencils and bottles of ink, and a large pile of the oversized illustration boards on which he likes to work.  Having been informed I was versed in comic and cartooning lore, he offered that he was utterly naïve about the field.  He knew of Charles Schulz, Jim Davis, Garry Trudeau, a handful of political cartoonists…and absolutely no one else then drawing funny pictures for a living.  This was said, I thought, with a sense of distance.  People often asked him about others who output line drawings, particularly of celebrities, but he simply didn't feel he had anything in common with them.

Most of the afternoon, we spent discussing theatre and the then-recent "Rodney King" rioting in Los Angeles.  The former was what I wanted to talk about and he indulged me with some first-hand anecdotes about George S. Kaufman and Frank Loesser.  The latter was what interested him.  He said he'd read all the newspaper coverage but didn't trust what they said and wanted the impressions of someone who actually lived in Los Angeles — an interesting request from a man who had then been on the payroll of The New York Times for close to seventy years.

I allowed myself a few geeky, fan-type questions, one of which was, "Is there any one actor who was especially fun or challenging to draw?"  His answer on both counts — and I'm sure it was an answer he'd given before to an oft-asked query — was Zero Mostel.  "It was always a challenge to try to draw someone who was, as a person, more exaggerated than what I do."  A few years later, I got a very similar answer when I put the same question to Mort Drucker, considered by many to be the best caricaturist of another generation.  (Mr. Hirschfeld said that folks kept mentioning the name of Drucker to him, but he was unfamiliar with the man's work.)

Mainly, I just found Al Hirschfeld to be a charming, delightful gent.  Last night, at the Academy, 1000+ people found that out, as well.  It's nice to see a man honored like that at what I'd like to think is the mid-point of his career.

By the way: If you are interested in purchasing signed lithographs or originals by Mr. Hirschfeld, you can contact his agents, the Margo Feiden Gallery at — you're way ahead of me — www.alhirschfeld.com.  There are also some wonderful pieces available for viewing on that site if you just want to Windows™-shop.