If Saul Steinberg were alive today By Ian Frazier

If Saul Steinberg were alive today he would be a remarkable 110 years old. Born in Romania in 1914, just before the outbreak of World War I, he escaped to the United States in 1942 after studying architecture in Italy. For the next six decades, his extraordinary work elevated this magazine, showcasing his unparalleled talent for combining art and storytelling, particularly in The New Yorker.

Steinberg passed away in his New York City apartment in May 1999.

He often said that he aspired to draw like a child. His self-portrait, featuring his adult self holding hands with a life-size cutout of his six-year-old self, demonstrated his commitment to this idea. Steinberg sought to maintain the childlike wonder and curiosity in his work, even as his subjects and techniques evolved. The young Saul, in his sailor suit and short pants, remained his constant companion. He found great joy in his own company and often remarked that he was his best friend. Perhaps his survival of the war instilled in him a desire to live life on his own terms, embracing the authentic instincts of his inner child. He pursued his passions with unwavering dedication and achieved artistic heights unmatched by many.

One of his later covers for this magazine featured an enlarged map of his daily walking route. He would often leave his apartment, venture along Seventy-fifth Street to Lexington Avenue, ascend to Seventy-sixth Street, cross to the other side, and continue his loop back to his building. Through these walks, he observed the city's intricate details and captured its essence in his work. While New York's magnetism could be all-consuming, he also recognized its limitations. He could become so engrossed in the city that he might overlook the broader world. Despite his love for New York, he had an equally strong affection for distant places and times. The solitary protagonists of his drawings often navigated vast cosmic and temporal expanses.

Steinberg's most iconic work, "View of the World from 9th Avenue," became a defining image for the magazine. This cover depicted apartment buildings, fire escapes, Tenth Avenue, Eleventh Avenue, the Hudson River, the vast expanse of the United States, and the Pacific Ocean, culminating in China, Russia, and Japan on the distant horizon. In one powerful stroke, his "View" shattered the city's self-absorption and revealed its interconnectedness with the wider world.

Despite his challenges, Steinberg's inner child and his love for distant places never left him. In the late 1990s, when I was living in the American West, he expressed a desire to visit the town of Big Timber, Montana. He had seen the name on a map and was drawn to it. While we never made that trip, I cherish the memory of our walks together in New York. During one of these walks, he stopped at a mailbox to post a letter. After depositing it, he leaned over the mailbox and shouted the letter's destination. He revealed that he had always done this as a child, when his family sent letters to relatives near Bucharest. His father would place the letter in the mailbox, lift him up to the slot, and he would shout the city's name: "Buzău!"

In our mind, the most distant place, the horizon, belongs to Saul Steinberg. His work continues to inspire and captivate audiences, reminding us of the power of imagination and the enduring spirit of the human heart.