LeRoy Neiman: Sports Artist in Residence

On the easel in the middle of LeRoy Neiman’s Manhattan studio, his latest work-in-progress awaits final touches. It shows the last minute of the 1946 football game between Army and Navy.

Neiman gestures with his cigar, a huge Cuban variety captured on a recent visit to Havana. His eyes dance as he talks of the goal line stand that saved a 21-18 victory and an undefeated season for the Cadets.

On one side of the easel there is a gold-colored Army helmet, on the other the familiar long, gray Cadets’ coat, props for the painter who takes no chances with details.

Football was one of Neiman’s first subjects. As a young artist, he went to sporting events with a sketch pad under his arm to capture athletes in action. One of his early trips was to Wrigley Field in Chicago, where the Bears played before moving to Soldier Field.

“I was sketching J.C. Caroline and Rick Casares,” he said. “It was a different time. There wasn’t a lot of security at events. I went over a fence to get closer and a guard came over to me.”

Neiman was a World War II veteran. He had seen action at the Battle of the Bulge and he was prepared to defend his position. The guard, who only rarely encountered artists at football games, moved toward him, looking slightly askance at the sketch pad.

Just as the security man seemed to be considering a frontal attack on the artist, Papa Bear George Halas wandered by.

“He looked at the picture I had sketched,” Neiman said. “And then he said, ‘He stays!”’

Neiman has stayed for nearly 40 years, a lifetime spent painting every high-profile personality in every major venue. Much of his work of the last decade is captured in a new coffee table book.

He has painted everywhere, from subways to night clubs, from backside at race tracks to ringside at fights. He has become a staple at major events, as visible as the athletes he paints, easily identifiable by his handlebar mustache and slicked-back hair. And, of course, the cigar.

There are times when he is almost mystified by his life’s work. “It never occurred to me that I’d do sports the way I did,” he said.

Early in his career, sports was not his main interest as an artist. But he was drawn to the athletic arena because of the availability of subject matter. He’d go to the race track and sketch horses. He’d go to fights and sketch boxers.

“Boxing is one-on-one, like the artist,” he said. “You’re by yourself. There’s nobody coaching you. Nobody’s there to help you. You decide for yourself what you’re going to do and you do it on your own. That’s what an artist does, too.

“I like boxers. I’d go to the gyms to sketch them. You could go there without any credentials. The same with race tracks.”

Perhaps his favorite subject was Muhammad Ali, whose career took off about the time Neiman arrived on the sports landscape.

“I painted Ali his whole career,” Neiman said. “He was the most significant, most studied personality. He was such an extraordinary person. We had never seen anything like that before. His confidence. He was so outspoken. He did what he wanted to and didn’t seek any advice. I like that. He didn’t have a coach. He did it alone.”

Neiman’s studio is steps from Central Park. He still craves the action, the pulse and pace of New York City.

“That can’t be replaced,” he said. “You’ll never find me as the artist in residence at some college. Social action is a very powerful trip.”

He arrived in New York in 1962 after spending two years in Paris. The itinerary was important in the world of art.

“For any artist, the target is New York,” he said. “You’re asking for the top competition. If you come to New York from Chicago, you’ll always be a Chicago artist, like Tony Zale was always from Gary, Ind. But if you come to New York from Paris, well then you are an artist.

“You take your talent and decide to survive as a professional. You do it because it’s possible, because of the history of people who have done it before. People try to stop you. That’s what gives you juice. That’s where the fun is. That’s what it’s all about. When you are disappointed, you go back and try again.”

The recipe sounds very much like the one followed by the athletes Neiman paints.