"I Can Draw, But. . ."

"I don't know how it happened. Drawing is not a process of clear and deliberate thinking, it seems to me a function of eyes and nerves. . . . As a centipede may not be quite aware which of its limbs it puts forth first and which is to follow, I am quite unable to explain to myself why I draw a line one way and not another. It always seems to me compelling, as if it could not possibly be different--but I never know why. Let physiologists and psychologists explain the mechanical functions and the psychic impulses that originate art. I am merely an artist. I can draw, perhaps, but I cannot explain. . . ."

What exotic Cecil Beaton, the London and New York society photographer, was nonetheless expected to explain last week was this microscopic lettering discovered by Columnist Walter Winchell in a small corner of a sketch Artist Beaton did for the Feb. 1 issue of Vogue: "Mr. Andrew's ball at the El Morocco brought out all the dirty Kikes in town." The sketch, bordering an article on cafe society, included several simulated newspaper pages. A tiny sheet headed Daily Mirror, which carries Mr. Winchell's column, was labeled Broadway Filth. In another small space Artist Beaton had written: "Cholly Asks Why? . . . Is Mrs. Selznik such a social wow. . . . Why is Mrs. Goldwyn such a wow. . . . Why is Mrs. Louis B. Mayer. . . ."

Vogue's highly proper Publisher Conde Nast was horrified at Walter Winchell's discovery because some of Mr. Nast's best friends are Jews--his son-in-law, many of his executives and most of Vogue's clothing industry advertisers.

Publisher Nast, protesting to the press that the whole thing was, inexplicably, a complete mystery to the editors of Vogue, declared, "I was particularly distressed that these slurring comments should have been printed in Vogue especially during these days of cruel, vicious and unreasoning persecution of Jews." While the indignant telegrams began to pile up on his desk, Conde Nast held back the 130,000 copies that had not yet been distributed, scored out the offending legends. But 150,-ooo distributed copies were beyond recall. And of course Mr. Nast demanded Mr. Beaton's resignation as photographer and artist for Vogue, well knowing that after ten years Vogue was losing its highest-priced and most sprightly talent. Third Nast move was to rip out 14 expensive pages of Mr. Beaton's art from the next two issues of Vogue.

Out of his job and, according to a New York Post columnist, turned down by two other magazines, Mr. Beaton flurried about his Waldorf-Astoria studio in a flaming dressing gown, seemingly hard put to provide a reason for how it all came to pass. Nearest he could come was that two months ago he was "completely irritated with Hollywood" after seeing a number of pictures he did not like. It was then he drew the unfortunate sketches, and he said he thought he inserted the slur against Jews subconsciously. Further, Mr. Beaton explained ". . . Silly as it may sound, I had not been aware that I was writing words. ... I liked the sound of 'Kike' . . . but I had no idea that it was confined to a definite racial group, and I certainly had no conception of its explosiveness. ... To offend I had not the slightest intention. ... I am not 'anti-Semite!' Some of my very best friends are Jews. ... I have suffered and am still suffering profoundly by the consciousness of having caused so much trouble and annoyance to Conde Nast, who was not merely my employer, but the dearest, kindest and most understanding friend. ... I feel as a man might feel who fell, unwillingly, from the window of a high-up room and yet kept his consciousness. ... I don't know how it happened and I am wildly tempted to call fate some very ugly names, if I had not just taken a sacred vow never to use gutter words again."

Walter Winchell, unconvinced, came back: ". . Beaton's subconscious had nothing to do with it ... it was deliberate and known to him. So delighted was he with his little trick that he spread the news among his intimates, gloating of how it had put one over. . . . Naturally, that is how we heard about it."

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