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no longer any need for operatics, and he was able to pioneer the art of intimate singing, which we call crooning. He developed a psychological style that got right under your skin. This was a revelation for singers, and Bing was the most popular singer of all time, bigger than Elvis and the Beatles combined.

    It was now 1939, I was a teenager, and my mind was set on becoming a singer. Although I was passionate about music, painting and drawing had always been just as important to me. I amused myself during school by drawing caricatures of my teachers and classmates. Although this didn’t go over too wellwith the teachers, it made me quite popular with the kids. After school I spent hours drawing in the street with a piece of chalk, creating little masterpieces that got washed away with the next rainstorm or by someone’s garden hose.
    My first art teacher, James MacWhinney, encouraged me to study painting. When I was twelve years old, a few days before Thanksgiving, I was outside creating another one of my “murals” with colored chalk, a big picture on the sidewalk of the Pilgrims and Indians. I saw a shadow fall slowly across the sidewalk. I looked up, and there was this big, handsome Irish guy standing above me, watching me draw.
    He asked me what school I attended, and I told him P.S. 141. He said he was Mr. MacWhinney, the art teacher at my school, and told me he thought I was doing great work. As it turned out, he lived in my building, but I had never run into him before. Then he told me that he went out watercoloring every Saturday, and said if it was all right with my family, he would love to take me along and show me how it’s done. I couldn’t believe that someone was giving me so much encouragement! So I ran home right away and told my mom what had happened, and she gave me permission to go.
    I loved our weekly outings. For me these afternoon sessions were pure magic, transporting me to another place. Each week we went someplace different, and we’d work side by side. During the week I would finish the painting I’d started on the weekend, and he’d critique my work the next time we met.
    James MacWhinney has been a huge influence on everything I’ve done. His wife, Julie, is a beautiful, intelligent lady. She taught English at our high school, and together the two of them directed my cultural education. They took me on day trips into Manhattan, where I went to the opera, visited museums, and saw my first Broadway musical,
Carmen Jones
. It wasall so new and fascinating to me, a tremendous revelation. Later, I was able to join his class in school, and I was so enthusiastic about it all that I actually helped him clean up afterward! All the other kids ran out the door when they heard the bell, but I hung around and washed brushes and cleaned up everyone else’s mess. I’d do anything I could just for the opportunity to soak up more training.
    Even today, when I put brush to paper to do a watercolor, I think of those glorious days. It was the first time I learned how important it is to be honest with yourself in order to do good work. I believe that one must always step back from one’s work, try to be as objective as possible, and be willing to do the work needed to make it better. It’s a great lesson to learn. In fact, years later I was fortunate enough to become friends with the great Fred Astaire, and he had the same philosophy. He told me that when he worked on a show and felt that it was perfect, that’s when he’d pull out fifteen minutes. Now that’s perfectionism!
    James and I still keep in touch. The last time I saw him he compared the two of us to the Renaissance painter Cimabue and his pupil Giotto, who eventually outshone his master. One day Cimabue discovered Giotto drawing on the sidewalk, and asked him to make a circle. Giotto drew it perfectly, freehand, without the use of a compass. Cimabue was amazed and immediately took him on as a student.
    I’m still flattered by the