Illustrating man.

Artist Robed Risko talks about his dazzling new book and his passion for famous faces

For the millions of Americans who buy such magazines as Vanity Fair, Rolling Stone, and The New Yorker, the caricatures of Robert Risko are one of life's joys. His airbrushed likenesses deliver a rush of giddy pleasure, like a whiff of laughing gas.

Although the 44-year-old Risko's favored weapon these days is color and lots of it, his way with a famous face gets his work compared to the more austere caricatures of 97-year-old Al Hirschfeld, who, like Risko, lives in New York City. Have they met? "He and I have corresponded by mail," Risko says. "But I've never actually gone over there. I'm too busy--and so is he."

This year Risko's been busy compiling The Risko Book (The Monacelli Press, $30), a cavalcade of actors, thinkers, fashionistas, and jocks culled from the artist's favorite illustrations. On a November day, while scribbling to meet one of his ever-looming deadlines, Risko parted with a few trade secrets.

When did he first learn to capture people? "I always had the ability to draw likenesses. It's an ability you're born with."

What was his big break? Risko gave Interview founder Andy Warhol a drawing of Diana Ross. "He was just, `Oh, yeah, love it; drop by the office, and we'll use you!'"

How is a Risko caricature born? "I do a series of drawings, looking for shapes within the likeness to simplify, until I come to something I think is the blueprint for what I want to capture about the person's face. Then with airbrush I'll try to do it very flesh, make it look like it was slap-dab done in three seconds."

Risko's wit bubbles up when he talks about himself--although defining his sexuality is not his favorite thing. "I'm from a small town, and it was important, when I was young, to hear, `Andy Warhol is gay,'" he muses. "But I have problems with the word gay. Oh, I'm gay! I'm happy! It takes me back to the `70s. I've always thought I was a very bad gay man. I'm not that into working out. I will not shave my body. I work way too much. I'm not promiscuous, never was. I have a life like my parents. I get up, do my work, watch the news, and go to bed."

Does he get tired of drawing famous faces? "Not really," he says. "It's like they keep cropping up, a new person, a new face. It's like an obsession. I know, with Himchfeld too, that's what's keeping him alive. And I'm like, Is that gonna be me?"

ELIZABETH TAYLOR AND RICHARD BURTON: "That was the very first commission for Vanity Fair when they were just starting up [the current incarnation]. Liz and Dick were on Broadway for Private Lives, They were having a kind of reunion," FRAN LEBOWIIZ: "I love her work, love her humor, But when I actually see her around town, I'm scared of her, I was at this party at [the home of] one of the most prominent oncologists in New York. There was Fran Lebowitz, smoking a cigar," LILY TOMLIN: "That also appeared in Vanity Fair, an early piece. I think I did it when she originally came on Broadway with The Search for Signs of Intelligent Life in the Universe, Lily Tomlin I love. I've loved her ever since she was Edith Ann," ROSIE O'DONNELL: "This was for a business magazine, It was about all Rosie's business ventures, The thing I love about Rosie is her wide eyes, You could draw her as a toy locomotive." GORE VIDAL: New York magazine, "Vidal has one of those faces where it's all very sharp, right down to the eyes--and then everything below that is sort of indefinite and jowly. I should know. I have the same kind of face. That's why I have a bulldog. I wanted a dog who's jowlier than I am."