ERNEST HEMINGWAY the hunter, Hemingway the fisherman, Hemingway the drinker — they’re all part of the legend. Among the motifs in “The Select,” the Elevator Repair Service staging of “The Sun Also Rises,” currently at the New York Theater Workshop, is an inside joke about how much imbibing takes place in that book.

But Hemingway the art lover? If you haven’t read “A Moveable Feast” or seen “Midnight in Paris,” the recent Woody Allen film that takes place partly in 1920s Paris, you might not know that through Gertrude Stein, Hemingway became friendly with many of the painters there. He even had a small personal collection, including etchings by Goya and paintings by Gris, Miró and Klee — artists who in some ways mirrored his own modernist aesthetic.

And he was a museumgoer of sorts. When in New York he was as likely to visit the Metropolitan Museum as Toots Shor’s.

In general Hemingway had little use for New York, which he called a “phony town,” and it tended to bring out the worst in him. On his most famous visit to the city, the one chronicled in Lillian Ross’s scathingly brilliant profile in The New Yorker in 1950, he mostly behaved like a parody of himself, more exaggerated even than the Hemingway character in “Midnight in Paris,” who is always looking for a fight. In the profile Hemingway swills a lot of Champagne, some of it in the company of Marlene Dietrich — the Kraut, he calls her — and never tires of wheezy old boxing metaphors: “I started out very quiet and I beat Mr. Turgenev. Then I trained hard and I beat Mr. de Maupassant. I’ve fought two draws with Mr. Stendhal.”