Greg Ford has written a pretty good career overview of the man we call Tex Avery.
I wish there was a way people could see his films — and those by Chuck Jones, Bob Clampett, etc. — in something resembling the way they were meant to be seen. The cartoons weren't made to be seen on a small screen in your home with no audience around. They also weren't meant to be seen in film festivals, one after another.
My first real exposure to Tex Avery cartoons as an adult was when the L.A. County Art Museum hosted an evening of them with Tex there to speak after the screening. They had brand new prints and they had a lot of them. After three, the bright colors and frantic pace began to get a little tiring and after five, one started to notice a certain amount of repetition. After seven or eight, my friends and I fled to the lobby…where we found Tex holding court, talking to a gang of admirers. As he saw us join the throng, he joked, "More people who can't sit through too many of my films." One of my friends started to apologize that we weren't back in the theater, studying every frame of every cel. Tex said, "Don't be sorry. I had to leave after three." None of us thought the films weren't brilliant and hilarious. We just couldn't take them in mega-doses.