Customer Reviews

Stars in My Eyes

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Don Bachardy's stature as a gifted draughtsman continues to grow. And now with the current growing respect and exposure of his beloved Christopher Isherwood vis a vis the posthumous Diaries and the notes and essays recently published, Bachardy's gifts as a writer are keeping pace with his important drawings, documenting the art culture of the past century. This beautifully designed book shares the wholeness of his craft: not only do we see important drawings of important people, we also hear the secrets of the encounter that resulted in the drawings. Sitting for Don Bachardy is tough - a joy, but hard work. To read how his silent sessions are processed in his mind and subsequently in his notes written concurently with his drawings opens an important door, not only for understanding Bachardy's keen observations but for the entire genre of portrait making. This is a delightful read and visual excursion....and contains secrets about famous prople we all thought we knew well!

Don Bachardy's collection of excellent drawings in his STARS IN MY EYES would make a wonderful gift for a friend, or for anybody interested in the craft of drawing. This is Don Bachardy at his finest, and Bachardy's commentary is a delight and gives insight into both artist and the person being drawn! If you want something unique, unusual, and well-crafted, STARS IN MY EYES by artist/writer Don Bachardy is a must-have for your book collection! You will find many famous entertainment & arts people in this book. Bachardy has a fine sense of style, observation, and understanding in his commentary, and the book is revealing in many insightful ways into the people he is drawing. It is an entertaining reading and viewing experience, one not to be missed. A highly original work, it is a showcase for the genius of Don Bachardy. Five stars. Great book! Reviewed by Lee Prosser, author of ISHERWOOD, BOWLES, VEDANTA, WICCA, AND ME.

Don Bachardy, Christopher Isherwood's long-time partner, wasn't just a pretty boy. He was also a talented, if evidently untrained, portraitist. I say evidently untrained because of the way he describes how he draws. Let's just say it's not textbook method. The portraits of the famous people in this book are good, but they're really just illustrations for the stories Bacardy tells of his sessions with his sitters. It is the stories that make this book so interesting. Yes, Bachardy is a bit bitchy about some of his subjects, but I was surprised by how rude some of them were to him. Again and again people tell him they're only sitting for him as a favor to Isherwood. If you are interested in seeing the people in the book (Henry Fonda, Mia Farrow, Linda Ronstadt, Aaron Copland, etc.) in an intimate setting, you will find this book fun. However, if, like some reviewers here, you can't stand to see your icons talked sideways about in any way, maybe you're better off with the latest copy of "People."

This is a beautiful book, by someone with a beautiful heart. Try to view the video called "Chris and Don" for an excellent portrait of Christopher Isherwood and Don Bachardy together. The book will similarly amaze!

I have been familiar with the superb drawings of Don Bachardy for many years, but had no idea how well he wrote. Insightful, clear, and sometimes waspish, the various pieces accompanying the drawings deflate the pompous and offer an original and unique view of the famous made vulnerable. Reading this book is like dipping into a delicious box of chocolates.

This book showcases Bachardy drawings and his journal account of the sittings with. primarily, aging movie stars he admired as an adolescent in the late-1940s along with some later stars (Jack Nicholson, Charlotte Rampling, Mia Farrow, Maggie Smith), the official portrait of Jerry Brown for the California state capitol, and some other artists (Robert Mapplethorpe, Aaron Copland, Iris Murdoch, Julian Schnabel, James Merrill) and directors Vincente Minnelli and William Wyler. The responses of the subjects to the drawings are usually very interesting, with greater paranoia on the part of other visual artists than of the aging movie stars.

The best stories are in the sittings with Ginger Rogers, Bette Davis, Jack Nicholson, Robert Mapplethorpe, and Louise Brooks. The accounts of those "stars" in whom I have no particular interest (Alice Faye, Ruby Keeler, Helmut Newton) contained insights (both from sitter and portraitist) and Bachardy's prose shows the admirable qualities of those whom I hoped would display them (Ingrid Bergman, Myrna Loy, Maggie Smith, Iris Murdoch, Louise Brooks, Henry Fonda, James Merrill, Barbara Stanwyck, Olivia de Havilland, Alec Guiness, Laurence Olivier). The only one whom he comes to despise in the course of the interactions of drawing a portrait is Joan Fontaine. He remains a fan of most and gives even the devil (Miss Fontaine) her due.

The drawings are never flattering and the artist does not flatter himself either, but I find it interesting to read about a professional doing his or her job professionally. The reader gets a very good idea of what it is like to try to portray honestly movie stars and other cultural icons, as well as getting the portraits. Most of his subjects are interesting (not least in their insecurities) people and I look forward to the eventual publication of his diaries from half a century at the edges of Hollywood ) encountering a stream of writers, artists, and film stars.

"That's the old bag." was Bette Davis's comment on Don Bacardy's drawing of her....in fact, she is depicted as an old bag. But consider for a moment, was not Bette Davis more than that "old bag" he "captured" on paper? She clearly was much more...for she was a truly brave spirit. So, I ask what does Bachardy's undeniable draftsmanship miss in his depictions of these human beings? This is the key question that must be asked of any artist. Is the art more than the technique? Is the capturing of those facts of age and facial musculature all that constitute truth?

The other thing that struck me, is that most artists do not append their work with commentary. In this case, the commentary consists of "entre nous" depictions of conversations, impressions, and surroundings. There's still something fundamentally intrusive, with consent or not, in coming to someone's home...someone, one likely has never met, to draft the most personal of one's possessions...one's face. Add to this, that Bachardy likely knew something about the stars he depicts...from his own comments, in the very scattered way, one accumulates information about strangers. It might need to be, but in a real sense, his way is all very subjective...all very personal, and, as opinion goes, prone to a dearth of deeper knowledge about these people, successful people who have all achieved at a pretty high level...some at a very high level.

It was therefore noteworthy to me, to see what was revealed about the artist, when he seems to have had something of a mental breakdown, when confronting the contest of wills set up by Ginger Rogers. In a very striking early publicity photo, holding her hair with one hand, Rogers was, in fact, laying claim to her image. Isn't that what stars do?...and, so many years later, was likewise still seeking not control, but collaboration in its public presentation. For Bachardy, this was a Cardinal Sin...but not for Ginger Rogers. In fact, it was normal.

Now, there were many ways to resolve this kind of confrontation, including concluding the session in a firm, friendly, and professional manner...which I, as an Architect, have, on rare occasion, done. Not Don Bachardy. He remained, continued to draw, claims to have "won" the confrontation, over an issue of facial proportion...but if a victory, it was only on a technicality.

His written and highly revealing explosion of contempt for her...including a verbal deconstruction of physical features...exposes all of the highly subjective, opinion, and gossip about her celebrity life. In fact, she's a far more complex blend of the highest achievement in art...plus talent, pluck, style, sophistication, privacy, gentleness, strength, vulnerability, ordinariness, and, as Astaire said, spunk..."She had guts.". That's Ginger Rogers.

Disapprovingly, the artist recalls her comments, omitting mention of the cast, at the finale of "Mame", or was it "Hello Dolly"...both star vehicles, and a perfect fit for Rogers in late career. But let's get real: Audiences came to see HER, not the supporting cast. She's not being egotistical...not only did she have, all her life, an excellent reputation of being among the friendliest, helpful, and WARMEST of stars towards her supporting casts...she was also performing for their salaries.

Bachardy then excoriates her "untra-conservative" politics. Yes, her mom spoke up to HUAC...at the moment American Communist spies were giving the American A-bomb to Stalin. Those were the times. But she's not that simple: Her favorite film was the anti-war "All Quiet on the Western Front". She married a pacifist, Lew Ayres...and in fact, was married five times. Harry Truman loved her spunk, and had a day for her at his library. She danced for FDR, admired liberal Elinor Roosevelt, and was friendly with Jimmy Carter. Her whole life, she fought for her own, and for women's rights in the movie industry. In 1950, she made the anti-Klan film "Storm Warning", with her friend Ronald Reagan...who like her, was an anti-communist, and who fought his right wing, to make peace with Gorbachev...thus bloodlessly ending the Cold War. Ginger was a "big tent" Republican.

And for sure, as a feminist, she was not the kind of woman who would spend her life on her knees in front of a man...including Fred Astaire, David Merrick, Mark Sandrich...or Don Bachardy. To my mind, this is not a sin...but a virtue.

This irritatingly all-knowing artist even predicts her mental breakdown upon the death of her beloved mother...who had the temerity to interrupt his session with a telephone call. This last one, is completely laughable for anyone who knew her. In fact, the title of the chapter in her autobiography, on the death of her mother, is "Taking the "u" out of Mourning". That Bachardy had time to think about his absurd hissy-fit, and still publish it, makes him all the more ridiculous, a cad, unprofessional...and prompts in me a higher valuation of photography.

His is an image of superficial objectivity, his quasi cartoon image of a "prideful" Ginger, has as more to do with himself, than with her. His professional pride was wounded. In the end, a career in subjectivity comes back upon its source. Unintentionally, she cracked him wide open for the world to see....and he's not such a pretty picture, to parrot the cliche.

So just perhaps, the intense, purging, little face, included as his self-portrait, is the truest of all the images he created for his book. In the end, in spite of his technical bravura, it's hard to judge the validity of his images, unless one knows more about the lives of his subjects. His generally superficial commentaries only add to my skepticism. This is why I have entitled my little essay here, as "A Cautionary Tale".

Of course, you understand, this is "entre nous".

This guy is remarkable for his clearly over-blown ego and lack of charm, certainly not his drawings. I've seen portraits by street artists and undergraduate students that are as good. The book cover gives it away.
I realize he comes from an era when Alex Katz was popular, but Bachardy's drawings seem flat and mushy because of lack of skill, not intentional style. He does best if his subject is male with a craggy face -- a clear sign that he hasn't studied much anatomy and relies on surface. Throughout the book, he claims not to draw from photos, but he might as well. His drawings lack psychology or any developed style. Imagine the portrait Alice Neel or Lucien Freud could've done in 8 hours with Bette Davis.
A book of personal anecdotes could be interesting enough that I'd overlook my dislike, and many of his subjects dislike, for his work, but his rude behavior is audacious. He moves Joan Fontaine's furniture around to make himself an easel. He breaks a valuable ashtray at Jack Nicholson's house and carelessly tosses fragments of it into a fire grate. He complains about food he is served and then dishes unkindly about a cast of veteran, very talented and respected people who've obliged him lengthy amounts of their time.
Undoubtedly, his uber self-confidence got him the relationship with Christopher Isherwood at a young age. If he hadn't had that connection, he'd have spent his life managing an art supply store and teaching seniors to draw on Tuesday mornings.

Bachardy's skill as an artist is evident. The book demonstrates that with his recognizably stylish renderings of celebrities who have subjected themselves to a sitting. Most of his subjects must be very sorry they did! The portraits are never flattering although always interesting. The basis for the book is not the art, but Mr. Bachardy's tattle-tale telling of the circumstances of the sitting. He may visually nail his subjects with the portraits, but he crucifies them with the stories he tells. He may have stars in his eyes (accessible to him through his lifelong connection with Isherwood, of course), but he has poison in his pen and no love for his subjects in his heart.