In the Den of the ‘Line King’

Though the full, snowy beard and sonorous baritone lend an air of learned elder, there’s a mischievous twinkle in the eyes more suited to an impish schoolboy. Indeed, esteemed caricaturist and illustrator Al Hirschfeld seems equally playful and wise as he relates tales of his trade with a deep, easy laugh.

Hirschfeld, best known for drawings featured in the Arts and Leisure section of the New York Times, has a remarkable body of work, essentially a sublime chronicle of 20th century pop culture. And, at 93, he’s not ready to lay down his trusty pens just yet.

“I’ve always envied people who can retire,” he says with a smile and shrug. “They can lie on a beach with their little radio and their lunch and stay the whole day. I go to the beach equipped the same as they do, determined to have a holiday. Fifteen minutes later I’m itching and uncomfortable--flies and mosquitoes are appearing out of nowhere. All I can think to do is wrap it all up and go back to the theater.”

For more than 70 years, Hirschfeld has trained his eye on the world of theater and, with a few simple graceful lines, has brought to life the gleaming stars and hard-working rank and file who people the stage. His elegant, flowing style is immediately recognizable, his drawings have turned up everywhere from playbills to postage stamps and his work has become as much a part of Broadway as the theaters themselves. Subjects have ranged from stars of vaudeville to the current cast of “Rent,” and most have been bedecked with an unusual Hirschfeld trademark--a hidden “Nina” woven into hair and garments (Nina is the name of the artist’s daughter).

Hirschfeld’s life and art are celebrated in “The Line King,” a feature-length biographical documentary that opens Friday in Los Angeles. The film, directed by Susan W. Dryfoos, traces Hirschfeld’s career from his beginnings as a designer of movie posters for Selznick Pictures to his current status as ever-busy artist and living legend. It also features insightful interviews with friends, family, associates and such stars-turned-”Hirschfelds” as Carol Channing, Katharine Hepburn and Jason Robards.

The longtime New Yorker has come to Los Angeles to talk up the film and attend some private screenings at the Disney studios, where his work has long been acknowledged as a major influence on the animators there. (Because of an inner-ear condition that makes flying uncomfortable, the artist made the trip by train.)

With about 12,000 illustrations to his credit, Hirschfeld says that the challenge of finding the “truth” of a subject by way of pen and ink hasn’t gotten any easier. “You face a blank piece of paper and you create a problem that didn’t exist before,” he explains. “You try [to] solve it to your own satisfaction, and sometimes you end up wishing that you’d just left the poor paper alone. To me it’s always a small miracle that the damn thing works.”

The artist says he feels he succeeds when he can create the greatest depth of character with the least amount of ink. “The drawings that really capture it get down to the essence--pure line. When it doesn’t work, I go to embroidery, adding more and more detail to fool everybody. When it works, a child could reproduce it. It’s that perfectly simple. Like a trademark or a logo, it’s instantly recognizable, and the subjects actually begin to look like the drawing rather than the other way around. To achieve that on a deadline isn’t easy and sometimes produces small ulcers.”

Hirschfeld cites Channing, Barbra Streisand and Whoopi Goldberg as faces that he’s been particularly successful with. He says that “caricature” is the appropriate term for what he does, but he takes care to explain what that term means in his work.

“It’s not an exaggeration of anatomical features--making a big nose bigger. That’s not particularly witty. I try to find what it is we recognize in a person. We all have this talent to recognize people we know, whether they’re a block away or bundled up in a snowstorm. There’s something that each of us communicates to others. I’m not sure how to describe what it is, but I try to reduce it to line and communicate it to somebody else.”

Through seven decades of theater-going, Hirschfeld’s seen a boggling number of staged hits and misses; he says he’s always felt it was his job to be an observer and an interpreter of shows, not a critic. And he says his view of today’s theater scene is unclouded by any nostalgia.

“I live pretty much in the present. The past and the future don’t interest me. I just accept the times. When something like ‘Rent’ or ‘Bring in Da Funk’ comes along, I don’t editorialize and wonder if this is better than what came before or what happened to the old-fashioned musical.

“It doesn’t occur to me to think that way. This is what the creative talent of today is doing and you take it or leave it. Actually, I find the talent today, with the exception of the playwrights, is much better than it’s ever been. The craft of theater is better than it’s ever been. I accept that. I accept cultural change as it happens.”

Hirschfeld’s drawings began appearing in the New York Times in 1925, and his work has become so closely associated with the paper that it’s a little surprising to learn he’s been a freelancer all this time; he was offered an official contract with the paper just last year.

“Yes, they finally gave me a whole sheaf of papers to sign,” he says with a chuckle. “After 70 years! You can’t invent this kind of insanity. And frankly, the situation doesn’t feel any more secure than it ever did.”

When pressed for a few life lessons he’s picked up in his 93 years, the artist is hesitant to pontificate. But, as the twinkle in his eyes grows brighter, he does offer a few words of wisdom.

“Well, I’ve learned that any time you say anything about art that sounds reasonable and intellectual, it will eventually be proven to be stupid. And I’ve also come to believe that there’s no progress in art--only new forms being used. There’s no progress in morals either. We’re endowed with the same morality as the caveman--equally as capable of greatness or idiocy. It’s simply a matter of living in different caves.”

As for the secret of his longevity, Hirschfeld says that’s been entirely out of his control.

“People want to take credit for what’s in their genes, I don’t believe a word of that. All you can do is stay alive and keep well. That’s the only trick to it I’ve found: Stay alive.”