Tuned in to frequency of the stars
Graphers make living selling signatures of famous celebrities
NEW YORK — On a blustery February evening in midtown Manhattan, opposite an unmarked side entrance to the Ed Sullivan Theater, more than 60 people stood crushed against a row of steel barricades. They all knew that at any moment, Harrison Ford would arrive for an appearance on “The Late Show With Stephen Colbert.” Jockeying for position, each clutched a sheaf of photographs for Ford to sign.
They were “graphers,” who make a living hounding celebrities for autographs and selling them to the highest bidder. For many of them, graphing is a full-time job. They can flip a single signature for anywhere from $25 to more than $1,000, depending on a star's cachet and how frequently they sign. A Harrison Ford autograph, for example, retails for about $750.
At 5:30 on the dot, a black Escalade pulled to a stop in front of the theater. The rear door swung open, and the pack of graphers across the street broke into a frenzy. “Harrison!” they hollered. “Harrison, please!”
Slumped near a dumpster by the stage door, a disheveled man with a mane of gray hair and a wild beard let out a grunt. He clambered to his feet, reached into a grocery bag and pulled out an overstuffed Fedex mailer, inscribed in large, looping cursive with a note. “Thank you, Harrison,” it read. “Love, Radio Man.” He staggered past the theater’s security team and approached the Escalade.
“Harrison!” the man called as Ford climbed out of the back seat. “How are ya?”
Ford grinned. “Radio,” he said warmly. They shook hands. “Listen, I’ve got some photos for you,” the man
said, handing Ford the package.“sure, sure,” Ford said, accepting it. They made small talk. Ford asked after the man’s health.
“Good to see you, Radio,” Ford said. He slipped into the theater without acknowledging the graphers.
There are at least 150 professional graphers in New York City, according to Justin Steffman, founder of the autograph authentication company Autographcoa. And right now, they are working at full tilt.
But none of them do it quite like Radio Man.
Radio Man — legally known as Craig Castaldo, though no one ever calls him that — has been graphing in New York since the early 1990s. Over the years, he has managed to charm a small army of celebrities into accepting his hefty packages of photographs, which they sign and return to him. He considers the A-listers who sign for him his personal friends.
After his exchange with Ford, Radio Man made his way to the Park Hyatt to pick up a package that Sarah Michelle Gellar had left for him at reception. It was adorned with a heart in black Sharpie, along with a handwritten note: “Only for you, Radio.”
“It’s amazing how they take to me, these actors,” Radio Man said. “A bum! I don’t understand it.”
Radio Man, 72, lives just above the poverty line, in a basement apartment in Yonkers he rents for $900 a month. He commutes into the city each morning on his bicycle, a 13-mile journey that takes him about two hours.
Though he could make a fortune selling his autographs directly to collectors, his grasp of the necessary tools — photo databases, printers, the internet — is tenuous at best. Instead, like most graphers, he peddles his merchandise to a dealer, who in turn hawks it at a significant markup on ebay and other, more obscure marketplaces.
Leaning against a wall outside the Park Hyatt, Radio Man pulled out his phone and made a call. A few minutes later, a silver sedan pulled up to the hotel. A tall, middle-aged man with close-cropped hair and a manicured beard stepped out of the car. Radio Man handed him the package of signed photographs from Gellar, and the man accepted them without a word. He hurried back to the warmth of his car.
The man, Radio Man’s de facto handler, supplies him with his Fedex mailers of photographs. Once Radio Man gets them signed, the handler sends them to a dealer based in Florida, who is rumored among graphers to be a millionaire. All told, the autographs Radio Man received from Gellar are worth approximately $6,000. He was paid about $300 for them.
“Let them make all the money they want,” Radio Man said. “I don’t care. As long as I get to see my friends.”
By “friends,” he meant the celebrities who have taken an unlikely shine to him since he stumbled into their world more than 30 years ago.
Radio Man is a fixture on film sets in New York. He has appeared as an extra in dozens of movies, including “Ransom,” “Zoolander,” “The Departed” and “The Irishman.” He has forged something like a friendship with some of the biggest names in Hollywood.
On a January night in Chinatown, Radio Man sauntered around the set of “Wolves,” a forthcoming movie starring George Clooney and Brad Pitt, as if he were its executive producer. During a break in shooting, he shuffled over to Clooney, who was sitting in a director’s chair. “Clooney!” he shouted, followed by an expletiveladen insult.
“There it is,” Clooney said.
“You know where you’re going tomorrow?”
“I don’t know where I’m going tomorrow,” Clooney said.
“Under the Manhattan Bridge.”
“See, this is what I’m talking about,” Clooney said, as the production crew standing around him laughed. “You don’t need a call sheet. Radio Man is the call sheet.”
Clooney met Radio Man in 1996, on the set of “One Fine Day” in Manhattan. The actor has “never not seen him” during a trip to New York since, he said.
A few nights after bumping into Radio Man in Chinatown, Clooney poked his head out of a white trailer parked on East Broadway and peered down the street. “Radio!” he yelled.
Radio Man ambled over. Clooney strode toward him holding a large bag, trailed by a pack of photographers.
“Here you go, Radio,” he said, dropping the bag on the sidewalk with a thunk. “This thing weighs a ton, by the way.”
Radio Man reached inside and pulled out two bulging Fedex mailers. They contained 185 signed photographs of Clooney, worth approximately $18,000.
Clooney said that Radio Man is the only grapher he will take a package from. But he signs for all of them.
“Every one of these guys who come over for autographs, it’s a business for them,” he said. “You try to help them out when you can.”
There is at least one other grapher in New York capable of exchanging packages with celebrities: Giovanni Arnold, 38, has been graphing in the city since 1999. He calls himself “Black Radio Man.”
On a Saturday afternoon in January, Arnold sat in a dark bar in the East Village indexing several large bags of autographed memorabilia he had just received from Daniel Radcliffe, who was starring in a production of “Merrily We Roll Along” at the New York Theater Workshop a few blocks away.
Arnold sells his own merchandise on ebay, as well as directly to private collectors, which has allowed him to accrue a level of wealth few graphers seem to enjoy.
He documents his dayto-day life hunting for autographs on Instagram under the handle @gtvreality, where you might find him giving Lady Gaga a ride on his bicycle, holding hands with Ben Affleck or shouting his catchphrase — “Stay Black!” — at Bob Dylan.
“I’m trying to move in a different direction,” he said. “Everyone and their mama’s an autographgetter now.”
Arnold wants to find a way out of the memorabilia industry. He doesn’t derive the same kind of joy Radio Man does from chasing down celebrities.
“I’m good at what I do,” Arnold said. “But he’s another level.”