Oscar Berger (cartoonist)
Oscar Berger (May 12, 1901 – May 15, 1997) was a well-known caricaturist and cartoonist.
Berger was born in Prešov, Slovakia. He became a cartoonist in Prague and studied art in Paris and Berlin. In Berlin, he secured an assignment with one of the largest Berlin daily newspapers and was one of the few journalists admitted to the 1923 Munich trial that followed Hitler's abortive putsch.
Later, when Hitler came to power, Berger's cartoons angered Hitler and Berger was forced to leave the country. He spent time in Budapest, Paris, and Geneva, where he attended numerous sessions at the League of Nations, and finally settling in London in 1935 where he worked for the Daily Telegraph. During the 1950s, Berger attended many sessions at the United Nations and illustrated virtually every important world leader to be seen at there.
His work subsequently appeared in Life, the New York Times, the New York Herald Tribune and Le Figaro, among numerous other publications.
Oscar Berger's works were described by a contemporary as:
- "kindly rather than critical, mildly satirical but never vicious. They aim to entertain, to identify a sitter so unmistakably that a few telling lines will be telegraphed at a glance.
Some of Berger's books:
- Aesop's Foibles (1947)
- a' la Carte - The Gourmet's Phantasmagoria in Fifty Cartoons (1948)
- Famous Faces - Caricaturist's Scrapbook (1950)
- My Victims - How to Caricature (1952)
- I Love You - A selection of love poetry (1960)
- The Presidents - From George Washington to the Present (1968)
Read more about Oscar Berger (cartoonist): Personal Life
Famous quotes containing the words oscar and/or berger:
“It is not always possible to predict the response of a doting Jewish mother. Witness the occasion on which the late piano virtuoso Oscar Levant telephoned his mother with some important news. He had proposed to his beloved and been accepted. Replied Mother Levant: “Good, Oscar, I’m happy to hear it. But did you practice today?””
—Liz Smith (20th century)
“The heart of Paris is like nothing so much as the unending interior of a house. Buildings become furniture, courtyards become carpets and arrases, the streets are like galleries, the boulevards conservatories. It is a house, one or two centuries old, rich, bourgeois, distinguished. The only way of going out, or shutting the door behind you, is to leave the centre.”
—John Berger (b. 1926)