Hirschfeld: The Biography by Ellen Stern (Skyhorse Publishing, 2021)

—Cathy Ritchie

I can’t draw my way out of a paper bag, but as a child, I would have given anything to be Al Hirschfeld: just imagine getting paid to see every Broadway show. (The gig’s drawing requirement seemed incidental.) Even now, I still envy his remarkably long and productive life, and thus I eagerly anticipated his first full-length biography, author Ellen Stern’s Hirschfeld.  I only wish I had enjoyed it more.

Albert Hirschfeld was born in St. Louis in 1902, resettling in New York City with his family by 1915. Painting and especially sculpting were his initial interests, and he trained abroad in those disciplines. Drawing was only a sideline for him at first, but when a friend shared one of his efforts with an editor at the New York Herald Tribune, Hirschfeld’s obvious talent was immediately recognized: he began receiving commissions from the Tribune and eventually The New York Times. The rest soon became theatrical and artistic history, as nearly every star of stage and screen would eventually come to life in his hands.

Hirschfeld worked in pen and ink from the comfort of a barber’s chair. How can we encapsulate his genius for caricature? Or should there have been another word for what he did? Hirschfeld himself said “I don’t refer to my drawings as caricatures. I prefer to think of them as ‘character drawings’ and I would feel more comfortable being classified as ‘characterist’ if there is such a word or school.”

Whatever the terminology, over the next seven decades Hirschfeld became one of the most important figures in contemporary drawing and—let’s just say it—caricature. He not only  covered the Broadway waterfront, but also “characterized” film and television stars. Original “Hirschfelds” became cherished prizes on walls throughout the entertainment industry.

Hirschfeld married three times, most notably for fifty years to German actress Dolly Haas. Their only child was daughter Nina, who gained fame at a young age when her father began stealthily adding “NINA”in caps to every drawing. A la “Where’s Waldo?” the national cry became “Where’s Nina?” as spotting her letters became a “phenomenon,” according to one source. Due to public demand, Hirschfeld would eventually add numerals to his signatures, indicating exactly how many “NINA”s were hidden in each picture. However, Nina herself didn’t appreciate the indirect spotlight, and her adult life would be troubled. (As a side note, Nina worked for a time at the Dallas Theater Center in the early 1970s.)

Al Hirschfeld died in 2003 at age 100. By then, he was the recipient of numerous prizes and recognitions, including a theater rechristened in his honor. Clearly, his life offered copious inspiration for biographers.

Ellen Stern made a unique authorial choice by writing her entire text in the present tense. I gradually became acclimated to the lighter-hearted, semi-bubbly tone she thereby created, but after a while, tedium set in for me. Though Stern is amusing and periodically tongue-in-cheek, everything and everyone she mentions eventually seems one-note and trivial, including her main character.

And speaking of “characters,” there are so, so many in the book. Stern offers copious detail on seemingly everyone who crossed Hirschfeld’s path, and includes lengthy quotes from them all. Significant events in Hirschfeld’s life are not overlooked, but they’re bracketed by long swathes of arguably tangential material I soon found immensely skimmable. The author’s focus is simply too scattershot and the text too “busy” for my liking: not enough Hirschfeld and too much of everyone else. Would using a standard third-person narrative have made a difference? Perhaps not, but it might have lent a more serious tone to at least some of the proceedings.

Readers will definitely learn the basics about Al Hirschfeld via this book, but I also highly recommend the 1996 documentary The Line King: the Al Hirschfeld Story, directed by Susan Dryfoos. This film covers his life, decade by decade, but also features him discussing his art and offering anecdotes and reflections. As a supplement to Stern’s work, and as an entertainment source all by itself, it’s superb.  But do enjoy the man, via whatever format you choose.