Silhouetting: The Kindest Cuts : Art: An old form of drawing, it may extend to back to the first shadow tracings. Yet only a few can make their living at clipping the facial outline.

In about 30 seconds, Harry Bryce, the main silhouette artist at Disneyland for the past 21 years, can snip the likeness of any man, woman or child out of black paper.

The paper portraits of more than 1 million people have been captured by Bryce throughout his silhouetting career, and in his Main Street studio at Disneyland, the famous profiles of Red Skelton, Goldie Hawn and Cher all have been trimmed to perfection.

But for Bryce, the unknown or obscure face is the one that often leaves the most indelible impression.

“A widow came in asking if I could do a silhouette of her husband,” Bryce recalled.

“I said, ‘Sure, where’s the photograph?’ And she said, ‘I don’t have one, but maybe I can describe him to you.’ ”

Bryce went to work with paper and scissors.

“At first, I made the silhouette as large as I could. I gave him a full head of hair and made his lips and nose a little larger than I thought they should be.

“Then I showed it to her and she said, ‘Now could you trim this and trim that,’ and I kept working it down and working it down, until she said, ‘You know, that’s pretty doggone close.’ ”

But another time, rendering the silhouette of a young man sitting directly in front of him didn’t prove any less trying.

“I guess you’d call him a dwarf or a midget, but the guy had had some kind of accident or some natural impairment on his upper lip; it was literally missing. He had nothing but teeth and gums up to the nose area.”

Bryce cut out exactly what he saw.

“He got off the chair and he shook my hand and said, ‘I really thank you. I’m so sick and tired of people trying to give me something I don’t have. This is the first time anybody’s ever done me exactly as I look--and I know what I look like.’ ”

Silhouetting, an old art, has remained popular with the public for several reasons. For Jim Griffin of Duarte, Bryce’s $3 sitting fee fits handsomely into his family budget.

“It’s like going to Olan Mills (portrait studio) for a fraction of the cost,” he said.

Actually, the $3 buys two silhouettes. By folding the 5-by-8-inch paper in half, Bryce produces a duplicate silhouette facing the opposite direction. An oval frame is an additional $4.75.

Beth Barton of Sacramento, whose 8-year-old daughter, Kelli, recently sat for Bryce, said she values the silhouette for what she’s not getting. “You look at it, and you fill in what you can’t see. That’s the beauty of it,” she said.

Added Bryce: “Silhouette cutting is to photography what radio is to TV; frankly, some things are better left to the imagination.”

Disneyland may be the only place in the Southland to have your silhouette cut, said Bryce, who estimates that about 25 silhouettists nationwide try to make a living at it. But Bonnie Elliott, who began as an apprentice silhouette artist at Old Towne Mall in Torrance 17 years ago and now works part time as a silhouette cutter at Disneyland, thinks the number may be closer to 250. Both artists know of no other operating silhouette studio in the greater Los Angeles area.

That Disneyland has one of the few surviving silhouette studios attests to the vision of founder Walt Disney, who frequently referred to “shadow drawing” as the origin of all art forms, said Bryce.

“He imagined--and it’s only a guess--that prehistoric (people) probably drew their first pictures by tracing their shadows on the wall,” said Bryce. That is basically “what we’re doing now, except we don’t use the shadow, we just use the (facial) outline.”

Peggy Hickman, in her book “Silhouettes” (Walker and Co.), cites examples of black profiles on Etruscan pottery and Egyptian murals as evidence that humans have made shadow portraits since the dawn of civilization.

The word silhouette to describe a shadow portrait, she writes, is comparatively modern, coined in the 19th Century from the name of Etienne de Silhouette (1709-67), a frugal French controller-general whose favorite pastime was the cutting of profiles from black paper. De Silhouette did not invent the art, Hickman writes, but his name was applied to it derisively by those who considered profiles in miniature a cheap imitation of art.

In the eyes of the public, however, silhouettes were inexpensive mementos to be exchanged as freely as snapshots are today.

Giving further impetus to shadow portraits was the publication between 1775 and 1778 of Johann Casper Lavater’s “Essay on Physiognomy Calculated to Extend the Knowledge and Love of Mankind.” In the 34-pound leather-bound tome, Lavater argued that plain black profiles were the most penetrating guide to character reading.

Although weighty reading, the book was illustrated with several silhouettes and, consequently, people rushed to have their profiles drawn in hope of deciphering their personalities.

According to Hickman, Lavater--with the assistance of the German poet Goethe, himself an amateur profilist--invented a special silhouette chair designed to keep the subject’s head rigid.

But not all silhouettes were rapid impressions cut from paper. Just as often, silhouettes were painted on ovals of chalk-like plaster, on the reverse sides of convex glass and on cards. Portrait silhouettes also decorated fine china and expensive jewelry, including rings, brooches, bracelets, lockets, tie-pins, card cases and snuff boxes.

In America, traveling profilists usually painted on cards or cut with scissors, because transporting breakable plaster and glass by horse was too risky, Hickman writes.

Despite these limitations, one of the first visiting silhouette artists to America, English Maj. John Andre (1751-81), cut profiles of Benjamin Franklin and George Washington. (Andre later became embroiled in the treacheries of Benedict Arnold and was executed after his capture by American forces.)

With the advent of photography in the 1850s, the demand for silhouettes declined. Similarly, the introduction of gas and electricity contributed to the disappearance of silhouette making as a hobby because, Hickman notes, “modern overhead lighting banished the deep shadows which amateur profilists had found so invitingly thrown on walls by lamp and candlelight.”

Today, Bryce, Elliott and other practitioners of the art of silhouette rely on both the artistic and entertainment values of their craft to make a living.

“If I had a nickel for every time people used the word ‘amazing’ to describe what I do, I’d be a wealthy person,” Bryce said.

Bryce has cut as many as 503 impressions in a single day; Elliott once did 472. As artists on commission, they receive a percentage of each one. When his work schedule at Disneyland permits, Bryce cuts silhouettes at birthdays, bar mitzvahs, weddings, graduations and proms, charging $85 an hour with a two-hour minimum.

Bryce said he also would like to teach a class on silhouetting at a community college because “the art of silhouette cutting is dying out and there’s virtually no one around to teach it.”

Many visitors to their Disneyland studio are surprised to learn that Bryce and Elliott use only paper and scissors and not special effects to produce silhouettes.

“I expected to see a big light projecting a shadow on a wall or screen,” said Lisa Casco, a 21-year-old college student from Phoenix, Ariz., who recently visited Disneyland. “I thought they would trace my outline and fill it in with chalk or charcoal--you know, the way we did it in elementary school.”

Unlike Elliott, who is an art school graduate, Bryce is self-taught and maintains he can teach the art of silhouette cutting to anyone in eight to 10 weeks. In fact, Bryce, who trained the two silhouettists now employed at the Disneyland in Tokyo, said he prefers teaching students who can’t draw.

“If you find someone who draws, they want to put perspective and give it a three-dimensional quality,” Bryce said. “They want to add tones and lights and darks, but you need none of that in silhouette.”

Elliott, who has cut silhouettes in as little as 17 seconds, compares silhouette cutting to riding a bicycle: “You have to develop a certain speed and balance; otherwise, you fall off.”

Elliott cuts quickly from the bottom up, moving from the base of the neck, to the middle of the chin, to underneath the nose, to the eyelashes and finally to the top of the head. While bulbous noses, sagging chins and protruding foreheads all make the final cut, wrinkles, scars and gray hair vanish with the flick of the scissors.

“Of course, the trick is to keep it all in proportion,” Elliott said.

Part of the reason for the speed in cutting is to prevent the artist from “noodling”--the temptation to trim or cut more than what the artist sees.

“In a way we’re like haircutters,” Elliott added. “Once you cut it off, you can’t put it back.”

While Bryce and Elliott may succeed in getting subjects into the studio, getting them to take a seat is an art form all in itself. For example, there are profile-conscious adults who refuse to be positioned with their “bad side” showing.

“I try to explain that a silhouette is just one line around the outside of their face, identical for either side, but some people refuse to believe it,” Bryce said.

Some silhouette subjects feel compelled to brush their hair or apply a fresh coat of makeup before posing. “Of course, it doesn’t make any difference how much rouge or lipstick they put on,” Bryce said, “but you can’t tell ‘em that.”

When a man and woman appear in the same silhouette, the man’s head usually goes in front. “This way I can give more detail to the back of a woman’s head, which is more interesting than a man’s,” Bryce said.

Also placed in front in a double silhouette is Mickey Mouse, Bryce’s most requested Disney character. “He wouldn’t fit anywhere else,” said Bryce, who also can cut Minnie Mouse, Donald Duck, Goofy and the rest of the Disney cast from memory.

Recognizable film stars, who rarely take a back seat to anyone, present a challenge to the silhouette artist. “Celebrities are very hard to do because you know their other expressions,” Bryce said.

Bryce’s wife is another subject who avoids easy depiction: “I know her every perfection or imperfection--however you want to take it--so I’m never completely satisfied. I’ll rework it, then overwork it and start over again. It’s just very frustrating. It’s much easier to do a complete stranger.”

And about himself: Was he able to capture his own likeness?

“I hated it,” he said.