A living portrait

By the time he leaves town, more than 40,000 people, including 6,000 schoolchildren, will have trekked through the Los Angeles County Museum of Art to pay a visit to George Washington. His portrait, that is.

The “Lansdowne” portrait of Washington, a life-size painting of the nation’s founding father by Gilbert Stuart, will remain on display through March 9 -- which means G.W. will be on hand to celebrate Presidents Day here and his 271st birthday Saturday.

The 1796 portrait, commissioned by Sen. and Mrs. William Bingham of Philadelphia as a gift to the Marquis of Lansdowne and painted by the same artist who created the Washington face used on the dollar bill, was nearly sold into private hands a few years ago. Saved for the public by a grass-roots fund-raising campaign, it’s on a tour organized by the Smithsonian’s National Portrait Gallery as a celebration of Washington’s enduring legacy.

Last week, fifth-graders from Los Angeles’ Virginia Road and Castle Heights elementary schools got their chance with the great man. They paused in front of the 8-by-5-foot portrait while docents explained the symbolism in the painting, which includes American eagles carved in the legs of the table, an American flag on the back of a velvet chair, and a rainbow breaking through clouds outside the window to indicate an end to political strife.

Interviewed by The Times during their Monday in the museum with George, the 10-year-olds offered their own questions for the Father of Our Country (at the request of the museum, only the kids’ first names are used). The president’s replies are strictly hypothetical.

Sonia: How did it feel to fight in the war, and to try to change the world for the better?

G.W.: “To be prepared for war is one of the most effectual means of preserving peace.” That’s what I told both houses of Congress in my first annual address in 1790.

But let’s talk about now. I’m thinking I might break into the movies. How about helping me out of this frame and introducing me to Steven Spielberg?

Jennifer (aside to a classmate): He looks so weird; he wears dresses.

G.W.: Hey, I heard that. I’m dead, but I’m not deaf. And it’s not a dress, it’s a coat.

Margaret (to The Times): I don’t think he’d like it here; he’s not used to the things we have now. He would probably feel like he didn’t fit in in this town. He would be clueless.

G.W.: I heard that as well. Don’t be impertinent, young Margaret. I’m ready to break Hollywood wide open. I’ve got a great head shot -- take a look, it’s on the dollar bill. And I’d be perfect for all those terrific movies about the founding fathers. Why, I could play

Kaya: What was it like, living back in that time? How was the food? Was everything clean?

G.W.: I can’t compare the food then and now because so far no one has asked me to do lunch at Spago Beverly Hills; that’s a hint. And if you want to know about laundry, you’ll have to ask Martha.

Jimmy: How could it be that you grew up poor and then became a general and a president?

G.W.: You must be thinking of Lincoln. Actually, that question is right on message for this tour. There’s a reason I’m willing to travel across the country in a packing crate, and a reason I’m still standing here -- in a “dress,” with my hand stuck out -- after more than 200 years.

I cannot tell a lie: I want you, our nation’s children, to see my portrait, and hear my story, so that maybe you’ll realize anyone can be president who tries hard enough. Even you.

-- Diane Haithman