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When Stephen Sondheim died on November 26, at the age of 91, my first impulse was not to listen to his songs or watch fragments of his Broadway musical. On the contrary, something in my heart wants to see Al Hirschfeld's wonderful paintings of Sondheim’s shows and characters over the decades-how Hirschfeld grasped "West Side Story", "Company", "Stupidity", "Sweeney Todd" And "Sunday in The Park With George" and "Into the Woods" and so on.

As a boy who grew up in the suburbs of Boston in the 1970s, Hirschfeld's photos were my first Broadway ticket, and they published these photos in the Arts and Leisure section of The Times. They are also my way of establishing an early bond with my parents, and this bond continues over time, even until they have Alzheimer's.

My parents are not true Sundheim fans; they like "Send In the Clowns" because of Judy Collins, not his "A Little Night Music". But they grew up on Broadway shows and respected Sondheim’s mentor Oscar Hammerstein II and Hammerstein and Richard Rogers’ performances; "Oklahoma!" They took me there. The first musical I watched was in Boston when I was 6 years old. Around that time, I asked my parents why we did not live in New York but got the Times. They said they still think of themselves as New Yorkers, and they like art and leisure, and stories and paintings about drama.

drawing? Those are Hirschfeld's. You can see some of them in a new guest post this morning-nine of Hirschfeld’s Broadway paintings by Sondheim, and an essay by Ben Brantley, former chief drama critic of The Times .

I want to show these pictures in Opinion to illustrate why they evoke people's aftertaste and movement even more than the best photos and videos of the Sondheim show, and Ben perfectly constructed this argument. But I also hope—hope—that others might like to see these paintings again (or for the first time) in The Times and think about how they fell in love with drama. For decades, his paintings have been like my parents' lifeline to New York City. They helped me open the door to Sondheim.

In 1989, as a freshman at New York University, I came to New York, where I met a dorm partner who looked like the Little Red Riding Hood painted by Hirschfeld in Sondheim’s "Into the Forest". Her name is Danielle Ferland (Danielle Ferland), originally in the original Broadway musical in 1987, she was Xiao Hong. It is one thing to be classmates with someone who has been on Broadway in Sondheim’s performances; for her, Hirschfeld also made her immortal, which is a completely different fame. (I excitedly told my parents about this living Hirschfeld over the phone.)

Danielle and other friends introduced me to Sondheim’s music and lyrics, far beyond "Send In the Clowns." Some of the songs I heard evoke the Hirschfeld paintings I remember: "America" ​​from "West Side Story", And Hirschfeld's portraits as Anita's Chita Rivera and "Move On" from "Sunday in the Park With George", and Hirschfeld's paintings by Bernadette Peters and Mandy Patinkin. Take a look at the images in our guest post and see how Hirschfeld's black line vibrates almost with life-as Ben wrote, "vortex, vortex, and loop."

As my parents get older, it becomes more and more difficult to take them to watch shows with me. But during my years as a reporter for the Times Theatre, they would ask me what I saw in New York, and it was great to hear Angela Lansbury’s speech in Sondheim in 2009. ) In the revival of A Little Night Music. They remembered her protruding eyes in Hirschfeld's painting; they remembered seeing her on Broadway a long time ago. They don't remember the name of the show, but it is still an excitement.

About ten years later, I took my mother and watched Lerner and Lowe's "Skinny Lady" at the Lincoln Center Theatre. Despite suffering from Alzheimer's disease, she still chanted the lyrics of "Spanish Rain" softly. She still remembers Broadway. This will be the last performance she will watch. She is now in an assisted life and my father has passed away. In a way, this guest post is for them. Images, like songs, can evoke such specific and happy memories; my mother's recall of the lyrics of "Spanish Rain" is one of my happiest things. When I see her this Christmas, I will show her my collection of Hirschfeld paintings to see if she remembers them.

Patrick Healy is the associate editor of The Opinion. He joined The Times from the Boston Globe in 2005 and served as a political editor, associate cultural editor, and reporter covering two presidential campaigns, drama, and New York politics.