Crumb Eludes Art Lovers, True Fans In Pittsburgh

Subject of a retrospective at the 54th Carnegie International, R. Crumb and his entourage blew into Pittsburgh long enough only to put in some face time at a $500-per-plate Friday night gala. There, perplexed white-haired dowager-patronesses gawked and pointed, as professional art buyers advised them on adding a priceless Crumb to their collections. After nibbling at the rack of lamb and downing several glasses of costly champagne in succession, the aging cartoonist abruptly took his leave, pausing only long enough to examine the gigantic display of his licensed products that had pushed aside the Picasso postcards in the museum gift shop. Lawyers stood by, taking notes as the underground cartoonists apparently nitpicked the presentation for several minutes, before rushing out the door. Autograph seekers who had waited outside in the rain for hours were shunted aside by thuggish bodyguards as Mr. Crumb was whisked into a stretch limo. There, his escorts -- three young call girls decked out in Milanese haute couture -- obediently awaited, another bottle of champagne chilling on ice. Then, off to Crumb's private jet, which was revved up and waiting on the tarmac. Gala attenders reported the 61-year old appeared "spry."

Members of the unofficial United Cartoon Workers Local No. 17 of Western Pennsylvania still maintained hope as the evening wore on that their hero would drop by the South Side pizza party they had thrown in his honor. But by midnight, word had spread that Crumb was already "wheels up" and flying over the Atlantic. Many sat dejectedly under the drooping banner that read "Pittsburgh Cartoonists and Flood Victims Welcome R. Crumb." Others sketched mindlessly on the placemats amid pizza crusts and cold pierogies, in emulation of their cartooning hero, hoping against hope that he still might show. "Crumb is the reason I became a cartoonist," confessed one now-middle aged man, fighting back tears. "We thought it would be nice to show him our love, you know, give a little something back. I mean, we can only afford paper plates on our budget, but I really thought he might appreciate the gesture. But he never responded to our invite. And apparently he switched hotels on us. Some kind of security measure."

Others in the crowd of fans and well-wishers were more hostile. "Man of the People, my ass! Crumb's best work is twenty years behind him," said a young heavily-pierced and tattooed cartoonist from Munhall. "I'm going home and burning every freaking Crumb comic I own!" Another local freelance illustrator wearing a tomato-sauce stained "Devil Girl" T-shirt said, "Boy, I've known people who got a bit of success and pulled up the ladder, but I never expected it from the guy who drew 'Motor City Comics'! I guess people change." Still others were more philosophical. "I've waited my whole life to meet R. Crumb, and this was probably as close as I'll come. I blame it on his handlers. He's just got layers and layers of people now, and they have their agenda. But I prefer to remember the struggling cartoonist with his sketchbook walking alone on the streets of Cleveland--not the remote, branded commodity who lives in France and flies around the world on the New Yorker expense account."

"Didn't he draw the Freak Brothers?" another fan wondered aloud.

The Crumb retrospective features 124 pieces of original art and will be on display until March 20, 2005.

posted by Mark Frauenfelder at 02:02:29 PM permalink | Other blogs' comments