The Face of History

Yousuf Karsh is a lively, bald-pated little man with a mission: to photograph the faces of the great men of his time. That became his ambition after he came to Canada from Turkish Armenia at 15 and went to work in his uncle's photographic studio in Sherbrooke, Que. Eventually Yousuf Karsh set up his own studio in Ottawa and before long his dramatic, three-dimensional portraits had made him Ottawa's top photographer. Then, on Dec. 30, 1941, Winston Churchill came to town.

Karsh's good friend, Prime Minister Mackenzie King, persuaded reluctant Winston Churchill to pose for the "local photographer" in the Speaker's Library at the House of Commons. Churchill grumpily lit a cigar and growled that he would give "two minutes for one shot." With a quick movement Karsh plucked the cigar out of the Prime Minister's mouth. As Churchill glared balefully at this impudence, Karsh clicked his shutter. The picture was published (in LIFE), and Karsh's reputation was made.

This week, in an impressive volume (Faces of Destiny, Ziff-Davis; $5) Karsh, now 38, shows 75 of the best pictures of the 500 notables he has snapped. In an explanatory text he also discourses on his subjects. Here & there, in his sitters' studio manners, he finds a few minor guideposts to history.

Prod to Provoke. For a photographer, Karsh works fast; he usually needs no more than 20 minutes to get all the shots he wants. He uses a $100 Ansco camera, an 8 x 10 with a $265 lens and a long cable release. His trick is to walk around the room talking to his subjects till they are wheedled, or needled, into the expression he wants. Then he snaps the shot. When irascible Harold Ickes persisted in looking blandly benevolent, a reference to his pet hate of the moment, the Canol project prodded him into looking natural.

Many of his subjects have to be snapped in a hurry. General Charles de Gaulle could spare only 30 seconds for his portrait. Yet the single superb picture caught Le grand Charlie's imperious, cold character perfectly. John L. Lewis dashed out of his chair after each exposure, dashed out of the room the fourth time. George Bernard Shaw gave Karsh five minutes when he sat down. But when he found out that Karsh was an Armenian by birth, he gave him a Shavian shaving: "I have many friends among the Armenians, but to keep them strong and healthy they should be exterminated every little while." Later he gave Karsh all the time he wanted.

Not all Karsh's sitters were in a hurry. Foreign Minister Molotov ("notably calm himself, he hates to see other people get excited") posed for 22 minutes. Former Chief Justice Charles Evans Hughes sat statuesquely for 45 minutes before intoning: "And now, lettest thou thy servant depart in peace." When Britain's wartime bomber chief, Lord Portal, appeared direct from the barber's chair, Karsh suggested they wait two weeks because a new haircut "automatically makes a photograph unfit for publication."

The Blanket & the King. Karsh likes to highlight his sitters against simple settings, often an old grey army blanket pinned against the wall. When he photographed King George VI in London, the Buckingham Palace backgrounds were too ornate to set off the King's gold-braided admiral's uniform. Out came the old blanket, and His Majesty helped to hang it in place.

Karsh considers his photo of Prime Minister King to be one of his few failures because of King's "phobia towards personal exploitation." He himself rates his best pictures in this order: Winston Churchill, George Bernard Shaw, Mrs. Eleanor Roosevelt, Frank Lloyd Wright, John L. Lewis.

Despite his fame, Karsh feels an obligation to the home-town folk who gave him his start. He charges Ottawa folks only $75 for three pictures. For outsiders the fee is anywhere up to $1,000.

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