The Wonderful Saloon

McSorley’s Old Ale House is probably best known to New Yorker readers through the work of Joseph Mitchell, who was noted for his distinctive character studies in The New Yorker and who in 1943 published McSorley’s Wonderful Saloon, which was later included in a 1992 collection of Mitchell’s works, Up In the Old Hotel.

Sept. 15, 1934 cover by Rea Irvin.

Among New York’s oldest saloons, McSorley’s was one of the last of the “Men Only” pubs, finally admitting women in 1970 after the state required the saloon to comply with the U.S. Constitution’s Equal Protection Clause. McSorley’s was visited by many famous patrons in its long history, a mixed bunch that included Abraham Lincoln, Teddy Roosevelt, Harry Houdini and John Lennon. Nine years before Mitchell would pen his account of the saloon, “The Talk of the Town” took a look.

MORE THAN A BAR…Folks were (and still are) drawn to McSorley’s Old Ale House for its rustic atmosphere—apparently no piece of memorabilia has been removed from its the walls since 1910. Clockwise, from top left, McSorley’s in 1942; 1937 Berenice Abbott photo of the interior; and two paintings by John Sloan—McSorley’s Bar, 1912; and Cats in McSorley’s, 1928. Sloan was among the Ashcan School of artists that included Stuart Davis and John Luks—all regulars at McSorley’s. (keithyorkcity.wordpress.com)

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Of the People

The Italian-American labor organizer Carlo Tresca was a gifted orator and outspoken critic of anyone who stood in his way in his quest for workers’ rights. As political activist and writer Max Eastman pointed out in the lead paragraph of a two-part profile, speaking truth to power also prompted a number of deadly assaults on Tresca (1879–1943), whose campaign for justice was ultimately cut short by an assassin’s bullet in 1943. A brief excerpt:

STANDING FIRM…Leaders of the International Workers of the World who led the 1913 Paterson (N.J.) mill strike included, left to right, Carlo Tresca, Elizabeth Gurley Flynn and William D. Haywood. (Photo: News Dept. American Press Association)
UP TO THE FINAL CURTAIN…Clockwise, from top left: Carlos Tresca with an unidentified worker in the 1910s; labor activists often staged theatrical works to get their point across—in 1913 The International Socialist Review covered a play at Madison Square Garden about the Paterson N. J. mill strike, which featured more than a thousand amateur actors; cover of a 1926 theatrical work, L’attentato a Mussolini, that attacked the fascist dictatorship of Benito Mussolini; police officer guards Tresca’s body after his 1943 assassination. Tresca was crossing Fifth Avenue at 15th Street when an unidentified assailant jumped out of a black Ford and shot him in the back of the head, killing him instantly.  (Wikipedia/weneverforget.org/wetheitalians.com)

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Up In Smoke

Lewis Mumford sniffed at much of the new architecture popping up around his city, but he took an especially big whiff of the new incinerator that rose above the neighborhoods at 215th Street and Ninth Avenue. When the incinerator opened in 1934 the city stopped dumping its garbage into the sea (it was fouling the beaches) and began burning the stuff around the clock in Harlem, where residents had put up with the smoke and cinders that were emitted from the supposedly “odorless” plant. Cole Thompson’s website My Inwood is a great place to read more about it.

ASHES TO ASHES…New York’s municipal incinerator, located in Harlem, as seen in 1937. The plant closed in 1970 when the city’s rubbish was re-directed to the Fresh Kills landfill on Staten Island. The smokestacks, which had become something of a landmark, were demolished in 2022. (Museum of the City of New York)

Mumford brightened, however, at another development in the Turtle Bay neighborhood, where architect William Lescaze (1896–1969) had slipped a bright, modernist house in between two dusky brownstones on East 48th Street. The house featured extensive use of glass block in its construction, an architectural first in the city.

RADICAL CHIC…William Lescaze’s four-story house, inserted between the brownstones on East 48th Street, is considered to be the first modernist house in city; at right, the Swiss-born American architect, city planner and industrial designer endorses highballs mixed with Lord Calvert Whiskey in a 1948 advertisement. (Wikipedia)
ALL AGLOW…The Lescaze house at night, and two interior views. (From the 1936 issue of Decorative Art, the Annual Issue of the Studio Yearbook via djhuppatz.blogspot.com)
GLASSY EYED…The Lescaze House’s glass block facade, the first to be used on a building in New York City, were installed to provide insulation and privacy while also allowing extensive illumination. At right, the front entrance to the lower level, which contained Lescaze’s office. (6sqft.com)
THINK PAD…Lescaze situated the most important rooms to the back of the house (dining, master bedroom and living) to isolate them from street noise and bathe them in northern light. His basement office extended under the back terrace. (hiddenarchitecture.net)

Mumford noted that the recent invention of home air-conditioning systems made it possible for Lescaze to bring light deep into the central core of the building…

HIGH AND LOW…Lescaze’s works in the early 1930s included the 1932 PSFS Building in Philadelphia (today: Loews Philadelphia Hotel); at top, PSFS interior view showing board room conference table; below, the 1930-31 Fredrick Vanderbilt Field House in Connecticut. (Hagley Museum and Library/Wikipedia/djhuppatz.blogspot.com)

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Poser

The novelist and poet Raymond Holden (1894–1972) was a regular contributor to The New Yorker from 1929 to 1943. For the Sept.15 issue he assumed the guise of an economist to pen this cheeky letter to the editors:

 * * *

Head in the Clouds

Film critic John Mosher thought Bing Crosby was a fine singer, but he couldn’t quite fathom why the movie-makers at Paramount thought the singer would be even more attractive if he was sent aloft using various camera tricks.

COME FLY WITH ME…Lobby card advertising 1934’s She Loves Me Not starring, from left, Bing Crosby, Maude Turner Gordon, Miriam Hopkins and Kitty Carlisle. (IMDB)

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From Our Advertisers

The advertising department must have been thrilled with the flurry of ads that announced the fall and winter fashions…here are three examples, the first two focused on styles supposedly designed attract the opposite sex…the International Silk Guild promised that the “swish” of silk would turn any man’s head…

…while B. Altman’s “Young Colony Shop” claimed you could get your man with the “swish and billow” of taffeta…

…B. Altman ran a second full-page ad to catch a bit older demographic, less concerned with landing a man and more concerned with sending the proper signals to fellow Anglophiles…

…the folks at Matrix shoes were looking for a way to associate their “Countess” model with modern living, but what they got was an image of people waving farewell to some flying footwear…

…and here is another in a continuing series of ads from R.J. Reynolds that claimed “science” had confirmed the refreshing, energizing effect of its Camel cigarettes…

…we clear the air with this attractive ad beckoning New Yorkers to sun-kissed Bermuda…

…Budweiser continued its series of Rockwellesque portraits of old men enjoying its product…

…and this two-page spread from Fisher—maker of car bodies for General Motors—shows us how young tots travelled in the days before plastic car seats and other restraining devices…

…on to our cartoonists we begin with a couple examples of spot illustrations from the opening pages…

…on to Peter Arno…the caption reads, “I adore driving at night. Once I caught my foot in a bear trap, though”…the humor is lost on me…I suppose she is referring to a speed trap, perhaps set by an amorous cop…

…speaking of amorous, William Steig explored the subject amongst his “Small Fry”…

Gardner Rea sat in on an unlikely boast…

Perry Barlow illustrated the doldrums associated with waitressing…

Garrett Price checked in on the latest developments in deep sea exploration…

…the cartoon refers to the explorations of William Beebe, who along with engineer Otis Barton descended in a bathysphere to a record 3,028 feet (923 m) on Aug. 15, 1934…

SIT TIGHT…Naturalist William Beebe poses inside the bathysphere in the early 1930s. (msmocean.com/)

…and we close with Gilbert Bundy, and a couple of horse wranglers…

Next Time: Reel News…

Lunch at the Dog Wagon

If you think today’s food trailers are the result of some hipster craze, consider that their origins go back more than a century; by 1934 Manhattan was home to 300 of the country’s 5,000 “lunch wagons,” which were commonly called “dog wagons.”

September 8, 1934 cover by Ilonka Karasz.

Some of Manhattan’s dog wagons belied the moniker, however, resembling the sleek roadside diners over which many today wax nostalgic. Jerry O’Mahony Diner Company of Elizabeth, New Jersey, produced more of these dining cars than any other concern—2,000 of them between 1917 and 1952 (only about twenty remain today). “The Talk of the Town” had this to say about the dog wagon phenomenon. Excerpts:

PROMISE OF BIG BUCKS…Tierney, based in New Rochelle and established in 1895, was an early manufacturer of lunch wagons and dining cars. It went out of business in 1933. Above, detail from a Tierney Diner Car Advertisement from the late 1920s. (scalar.usc.edu)
LUNCH ON THE RUN…Clockwise, from top left, early “dog wagons” were horse-drawn affairs; the wagons became semi-stationary with the advent of manufactured units designed to resemble old railroad dining cars; bottom photos show interiors of two O’Mahony diners. (restaurantingthroughhistory.com/americanbusinesshistory.org/dinerhunter.com)
ALL IN A NAME…Above: The Jerry O’Mahony Diner Company produced 2,000 diners in its Elizabeth, New Jersey, factory. Below, an O’Mahoney dining car headed for its new home in Kansas—the O’Mahony company preferred that patrons give their dining cars elite names, such as this “Palace Diner.” (dinerhunter.com/nyfta.org)
LAST CALL…One of the few surviving O’Mahony diners—The Summit Diner in Summit, New Jersey. A prototypical “rail car” style diner, it was built by the O’Mahony Company in 1938. (Jeff Boyce/Wikimedia Commons)

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A Captain’s Curios

“The Talk of the Town” also paid a visit to Captain Charley’s Private Museum for Intelligent People, a place that would later be visited (and written about) by The New Yorker’s chronicler of the commonplace, Joseph Mitchell. Excerpts:

MURKY MUSEUM…This is likely the red brick building on 127th Street where the old mariner Captain Charley held court in the basement with his Private Museum for Intelligent People. (Google Street View)

 * * *

Origins of Life

Wolcott Gibbs took his turn as theater reviewer (in relief of Robert Benchley) and managed to sit through Life Begins at 8:40, which had a successful run at the Winter Garden.

GIVING IT A REST…Roy Bolger, Luella Gear, Frances Williams and Bert Lahr headed the cast of Life Begins at 8:40 at the Winter Garden. Critic Wolcott Gibbs appreciated Lahr’s change in tempo, as he was becoming a more “restful” comedian. Lahr was the father of New Yorker theater critic and writer John Lahr. (Library of Congress)

In contrast to Bert Lahr’s new toned-down style, Milton Berle’s outlandish antics over at the Imperial Theatre had Gibbs wondering what the comedian’s vaudeville-style show Saluta was all about, if it was about anything. Whatever it was, it worked—Berle would enjoy a comedy career spanning eight decades, including becoming one of early television’s biggest stars.

ON FIRE…Milton Berle’s show Saluta featured Chaz Chase (right), famed for gobbling up whatever was placed in front of his mouth, including a box of lit matches. At left, Berle in 1930; right, Chase in the 1935 film Vaudeville. (Pinterest/IMDB)

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From Our Advertisers

We begin with a cold one from Rheingold, which had “beverage balance” and wasn’t afraid to stamp a slogan right over its ad copy…

…Lucky Strike gave us another stylish reason for taking up a bad habit…

Arts & Decoration magazine took out this full page to tout the latest news in modern design…

…while the folks at Packard bought this center spread to give ample space to their 1935 model, which must have been a helluva thing to parallel park…

…clothing companies continued use class shaming to goad aspiring toffs to purchase the “correct” attire for school…

…with the help of Gardner Rea, Heinz suggested that the upper orders would simply swoon over cuisine you managed to scoop out of a can…

…on to our cartoonists, we begin with spots by James Thurber

…and Lloyd Coe

…with the absence of Otto Soglow’s Little King, Gluyas Williams did his best to fill the void of a full page, something Williams did quite nicely…

Rea Irvin gave us yet another local bird sighting…

Richard Decker found understatement over a reservoir…

Robert Day borrowed from the style of Rockwell Kent to offer a bit of humor from the northern climes…

…here is a woodcut from Kent’s N by E is, an illustrated story of his voyage to Greenland…

(From Rockwell Kent’s 1930 book of woodcuts, N by E, via untendedgarden.com)

Reginald Marsh lent his social realism to an uglier side of American life…

…and we close with Helen Hokinson, just taking in the passing scene…

Next Time: Sticks and Stones…

Some Pitiful Melodies

Sigmund Gottfried Spaeth (1885–1965) sought to popularize classical music and improve the musical tastes of the masses by meeting the public wherever he could find them, from vaudeville halls to national radio broadcasts.

September 1, 1934 cover by William Steig.

Born in a line of three generations of Lutheran clergymen, Spaeth chose a different path and became a musicologist who sought to de-mystify classical music, often demonstrating how popular melodies had origins in earlier music. He also had strong opinions about lyrics in popular music, demonstrating his distaste for “the lyric school of self-pity” in this “Onward and Upward” column. Excerpts:

BRINGING MUSIC AND LIGHT…Sigmund Spaeth found much to dislike in the world of popular music, but he was never stuffy in his approach to music appreciation. At right, Spaeth appeared in vaudeville-style shows (and for many years on the radio) as “The Tune Detective,” wearing a deerstalker cap, cape, and checked tweeds in imitation of Sherlock Holmes. He hoped to demonstrate to a wide audience that all music was essentially based on a set of simple principles. (sinfonia.org/wnyc.org)
HAVE NO FEAR…Spaeth wrote a popular syndicated newspaper column, “Music for Everybody,” and contributed articles to many periodicals during his career. With his first book in 1925, The Common Sense of Music, and others that followed, Spaeth sought to de-mystify music for a general audience. (Wikimedia Commons)
OH LIGHTEN UP…Spaeth detected a cynical note in Bing Crosby’s (left) sob song, “I Cried for You,” and noted Irving Berlin’s latest contribution to the “sob symposium,” “I Never Had a Chance.” (Wikipedia/digitalcommons.library.umaine.edu/britannica.com)

Spaeth noted that not all sad songs were dripping in artificial self-pity, citing Helen Morgan’s “Why Was I Born?” as an example of a song modeled on “the legitimate blues,” marked by “a sincerity of expression in everyday language”…

RIGHT AND WRONG…Spaeth acknowledged the “sincerity of expression” in Helen Morgan’s (left) torch songs, while at the other extreme he suggested that the authors of “Was That the Human Thing to Do?” (Sammy Fain and Joe Young) be boiled alive in their own tears. The song was popularized by The Boswell Sisters, a beloved New Orleans trio in the early 1930s. (findagrave.com/amazon.com/genius.com)

 * * *

Off to the Races

In his column, “Of All Things,” Howard Brubaker commented on the apparent competition and contrast between Alexander Woollcott’s book, While Rome Burns, and another with a rosier title, The Coming of the American Boom. It appears Woollcott’s book won out, at least in the long run, as I can find no trace of the Boom book, or its author.*

* One of our kind readers has identified the author: “The Coming American Boom” was written by Lawrence Lee Bazley Angas and published by Simon and Schuster in 1934. In 1939, Time noted that “Major Lawrence Lee Bazley (‘Boom’) Angas is a pink & white Britisher with a reputation for making daring predictions which have sometimes come true…. He won his nickname with a much-publicized booklet, The Coming American Boom, which heralded his arrival in the U.S. in 1934.”

Speaking of rosy outlooks, E.B. White offered some parting thoughts on Chicago’s World’s Fair, called “A Century of Progress.” Rather than focus on the grandiose exhibits, White wryly noted other signs of progress at the fair, as recounted from a letter he received from his nephew.

The Chicago World’s Fair featured all sorts of modern wonders “dedicated to the ideal of scientific advance”…

…but as with any World’s Fair, it also catered to the baser interests of the masses, with attractions such as Robert Ripley’s Believe It Or Not “Odditorium,” which was essentially a P.T. Barnum-style freak show…

…Ripley’s syndicated newspaper feature included these Odditorium attractions…

…White made light of exhibitions displaying such signs of progress as how to brush your teeth, and more examples of human freakdom…

…White’s nephew wrote of a man who could pull a wagon (containing his wife) with his eyelids, an apparently arthritic fellow who was “turning to stone,” and a man who could support heavy weights with his pierced breasts…

(all images courtesy postcardy.blogspot.com)

 * * *

Letter From Paris

Paris correspondent Janet Flanner wrote that August 1934 was a “month of memories” as it marked the twentieth anniversary of the outbreak of the Great War, which we now call World War I. Flanner wrote about a new attitude that had arisen in those two decades, “a new attitude not only toward the last war but toward the next (which, ironically enough, seems increasingly inevitable to France since the death of the enemy warrior, von Hindenburg).” She continued with these observations made by French journalist and historian Emmanuel Berl (1892–1976), who wrote that as a result of the Great War, the youth in both France and Germany held few heroic illusions about war, seeing it not as a sacrifice but rather “as a means of being annihilated.”

SO MUCH FOR THE HEROICS…A refugee family returning to Amiens, France, looking at the ruins of a house on Sept. 17, 1918. Top right, Janet Flanner in 1940; below, Emmanuel Berl. (iwm.org.uk/Flanner photo copyright Estate of George Platt Lynes/Berl photo courtesy Joël Chirol)

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From Our Advertisers

Clothing company Rogers Peet used the threat of humiliation to encourage young men to stock up on “authentic university fashions” before returning to campus…

…the Wanamaker department store took a different approach, offering up new styles with a heavy English accent (I say, didn’t we play tennis once at the Hon. Toppy Crew’s?)…

…the makers of Goodyear tires offered up this disturbing image to boost sales…

…this ad told us that “Mrs. Henry Field” collected fine art, loved to go to parties, and “always smoked Camel cigarettes”…I am unaware of the fate of Mrs. Henry Field, married to the grandnephew of Marshall Field, but this unseemly image suggests she was replaced by a wax figure before the photo was taken…

…on to our cartoons, we begin with spot illustrations from (clockwise, from top) Victor De Pauw, Abe Birnbaum, and an unidentified illustrator who offered this suggestion for beating the late summer heat…

…we move along to Alan Dunn and a record-seeking pooch…

Peter Arno with a very Arno-esque take on the stranded island trope…

James Thurber gave us a man who was done making decisions…

Richard Decker offered up this living history demonstration…

George Price gave us two tropes for the price of one…

Barbara Shermund gave us another glimpse into the lives of modern women…

Rea Irvin continued his exploration of Manhattan’s fauna…

…our next cartoon is by Henry Steig, who used the pseudonym Henry Anton to avoid being confused with his brother, William Steig (featured on this issue’s cover)…unlike his brother, Henry was also a jazz musician, a sculptor and painter, a photographer, and a novelist…that is before he became a noted jeweler…

…Henry Steig’s jewelry shop at 590 Lexington Avenue can be glimpsed in the background of the famous subway vent scene from 1955’s The Seven Year Itch featuring Marilyn Monroe

…and we close with Otto Soglow, and the last appearance his “Little King” in The New Yorker...William Randolph Hearst had lured Soglow away for his King Features Syndicate, debuting The Little King in his newspapers on September 9, 1934, where it would run until Soglow’s death in 1975…Soglow, however, would continue contributing cartoons of other themes to The New Yorker until 1974…

Next Time: Lunch at the Dog Wagon…

Cleo’s Allure

Claudette Colbert and Henry Wilcoxon in 1934's "Cleopatra." (cecilbdemille.com)

New Yorker film critic John Mosher was in the mood for one of Cecil B. DeMille’s big, splashy epic movies, but was disappointed to find a relatively restrained effort in DeMille’s latest flick, Cleopatra.

August 25, 1934 cover by Rea Irvin.

Perhaps Mosher would have preferred a silent version of the film, finding the dialogue “the worst I have ever heard in the talkies.” Among examples cited by Mosher was Warren William’s Caesar, who utters the word “Nope” to one of his senators.

CLEO BRIO…Clockwise, from top left, Paramount’s trailer for Cleopatra made a bold claim; Cleopatra (Claudette Colbert) hails Caesar after emerging from a rolled up rug that had been presented to the Roman court; Julius Caesar (Warren William) acts unimpressed, but eventually falls for the Egyptian queen before meeting his demise; Marc Antony (Henry Wilcoxon) is the next to fall for Cleopatra’s seductions. It ends badly for both of them. (pre-code.com/obscurehollywood.net)

Despite Mosher’s grumbles, Cleopatra would receive five Academy Award nominations (winning for Best Cinematography) and would become the highest-grossing film released in North America in 1934. That year Claudette Colbert (1903-1996) would appear in three films that were all nominated for the Academy Award for Best Picture—she is the only actress ever to do so.

On the lighter side, Mosher took a liking to Harold Lloyd’s latest picture, The Cat’s Paw, which marked a sharp departure from Lloyd’s trademark slapstick. Lloyd adopted to a calmer pace, “touched with the delicate bloom of satire.”

Moviegoers who associated Lloyd with such pictures as 1923’s Safety Last

(britannica.com)

…would have to settle for this new version of Lloyd, which was even touted on the movie’s promotional poster…

STAYING ON HIS FEET…Fox Pictures touted a “new” Harold Lloyd (except for his trademark glasses) in The Cat’s Paw. At right, Lloyd with co-star Una Merkel. (IMDB/criterionchannel.com)

 * * *

Fun With Philately

After reading a column in The Herald Tribune that concerned interesting stamps and envelopes…

James Thurber found himself inspired to make a brief examination of the “Thurber envelope”…

…which proved to be neither interesting nor unusual (excerpts):

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From Our Advertisers

A couple of colorful advertisements, the first from the folks at Heinz, who invited New Yorker readers to become “Salad Wizards”…

…if being a salad wizard wasn’t good enough, you could pop open a bottle of Cora vermouth and feel downright aristocratic…

…and if you wanted to maintain that aristocratic pose, you’d better know how to serve your tomato juice, and make sure it is prepared by a “famous French Chef”…

…more libations in the back pages…here’s a sampling of three…there must have been a reason why all of the one-column ads featured mixers and spirits on the top and ads for hotels and apartments on the bottom…

…and before we jump into the cartoons, a brief look at illustrator Mildred Oppenheim, who worked under the pseudonym “Melisse.” Her work was seen in the early New Yorker mostly in ads for Lord & Taylor, however she also did work for others including the makers of Cannon towels (seen below). In 1931 The New York Times described her as “a wicked and telling satirist—almost a feminine counterpart of Peter Arno”…

…Melisse ran a cartoon strip, “Real News of New York…A Preview of What’s New,” in the New York Sun from 1933 to 1935. Melisse seemed to be flying high, but in 1940 she declared bankruptcy. However she quickly rebounded in 1941 with an advertising panel for Orbachs—Around Town…with Melisse”—which became a nationally syndicated feature:

(strippersguide.blogspot.com)

…in the 1940s Melisse also produced a variety of drawings and paintings, designed mannequins for window and counter displays, and even produced designs for handkerchiefs and other clothing items. But for all her fame as a commercial illustrator, very little is known about her personal life, or what became of her after 1950. According to Alan Jay of the Stripper’s Guide, Melisse was born in Newark in 1905 and died in Miami in 1993, and was briefly married to another commercial artist in the early 1930s. A December 14, 1934 ad for her “Real News” strip in the Pelham Sun featured her photo:

(strippersguide.blogspot.com)

…on to our well-known New Yorker cartoonists, we begin with the stalwart Rea Irvin

…accompanying part two of a three-part profile of New Deal Administrator Hugh Samuel Johnson was this terrific caricature by Miguel Covarrubias

…never too early to get ready for winter…spot drawing in the opening pages by Alan Dunn

…but there was enough summer left for William Steig’s “Small Fry” to enjoy some leisurely pursuits…

William Crawford Galbraith continued to ply his familiar waters…

…while Al Frueh turned in this gem…

Helen Hokinson found some lively anticipation at the train station…

Garrett Price took us to the seashore…

…while Barbara Shermund kept us abreast of current events…

Next Time: Some Pitiful Melodies…

Dizzy Drinks

During the roughly thirteen years of Prohibition, many Americans had forgotten how to mix a decent cocktail; the concoctions they devised during those dry years were often created to mask the taste of bootleg liquor—sales of Coca-Cola steadily increased throughout the 1920s in part because it made ardent spirits such as rum and whisky a bit more palatable.

August 18, 1934 cover by Ilonka Karasz.

Donald Barr Chidsey examined the phenomenon in “The Talk of the Town,” visiting with traumatized bartenders around Manhattan:

LOST ART…Donald Barr Chidsey relayed the horror of a customer at Sherry’s (top left, photo of the 300 Park Avenue entrance, c. 1925) who asked for ice cream in his rum punch; directly across the street from Sherry’s was the Waldorf Astoria (top right), where a customer asked for a drink of half ice cream, half Coca-Cola; bottom images are from Albert Crockett’s The Old Waldorf-Astoria Bar Book—as to what one gathers from Chidsey’s account, more than a few people needed to check the “Glossarial” to get reacquainted with the spirit world. (Museum of the City of New York/kitchenartsandletters.com)
CUBA LIBRE…According to Chidsey, the go-to for women patrons at the Hotel Weylin was a Barcardi and Coke; at left, Hotel Weylin in 1935; at right, lobby card featuring entertainment at the Weylin Bar, circa 1930s. (Museum of the City of New York/ebay)
THE LAST STRAW…Chidsey wrote of an alarming trend among patrons at Schrafft’s who demanded straws in their Tom Collinses. The sleek, art moderne Schrafft’s at 61 Fifth Avenue was among more than two-dozen Schrafft’s locations in New York City in the 1930s. Known for cleanliness and home-style cooking, target clientele were middle-class women. (Architectural Record photos via daytoninmanhattan.blogspot.com)

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From Our Advertisers

Speaking of Schrafft’s, here is their advertisement from the Aug. 18 issue, offering breakfasts ranging from 35 to 75 cents that apparently were the stuff of O. Henry’s dreams…

…what is a woman to do with a restless husband?…drawing on the wisdom of the ages, she hands him a beer and coaxes him into his easy chair…this ad encouraged women to “always keep a few bottles in your refrigerator”…in other words, keep ’em coming until he settles into a manageable stupor…

…and see just how easily he slips away, leaving you with a few moments to yourself…

…if highballs were more to your taste, the folks at Poland Water stood ready to help…

…R.J. Reynolds claimed their Camels could solve all sorts of life challenges…we’ve seen ads claiming that Camels soothed “jangled nerves” and helped one relax, but apparently they also could give you energy and pep, at least that is what tennis star Ellsworth Vines, Jr claimed…

…lots of color in the ads for the Aug. 18 issue…here the folks at Buick featured a woman in a red dress serving as an exclamation point to their automobile, which was no ordinary motorcar, but rather a “congenial companion, alive with good-natured personality”…

…the folks at General Tire went one better, making their tires the star attraction…those tires look so attractive it seems almost a shame to dirty them on the road…

…on to our cartoons, we cool off with this spot in the opening pages by Alan Dunn

William Cotton contributed this caricature of New Deal Administrator Hugh Samuel Johnson that accompanied a three-part profile…

Rea Irvin offered up a bird of a different feather…

Robert Day gave us this master of understatement…

Alan Dunn again, examining the trials and tribulations of the leisure classes…

Peter Arno offered this take on the Hays Code (after politician Will Hays), which was going into effect after the brief “Pre-Code” period (roughly 1930 to 1934) during which filmmakers felt freer to explore themes featuring sex and violence…

George Price gave us a man have trouble hitting his mark…

Alain (Daniel Brustlein) contributed a cartoon with a talking animal, common today but rare in the early New Yorker

Raeburn Van Buren was also down on the farm…I think we know the answer to this woman’s query…

…and we close with James Thurber, where mixed doubles were naturally fraught with peril…

Next Time: Cleo’s Allure…

Up In The Air

The 1930s saw steady improvements in the fledging airline industry, which catered mostly to major businesses or well-heeled (and somewhat brave) folks who were interested in getting to places relatively quickly. Margaret Case Harriman reported on the many ways one could criss-cross the country by heading to the Newark Airport, the first major airport to serve the New York metro.

August 11, 1934 cover by Constantin Alajalov.

Writing for the “Out of Town” column, Harriman described how someone in 1934 could make their way to Los Angeles by boarding a 9 a.m. American Airlines flight in Newark and then changing over to a “sleeper plane” in Fort Worth around 10 p.m. that same day (top speed of the fastest plane was about 190 mph or 306 kph. The trip also required stops for refueling). The night flight from Fort Worth would deliver the traveler to Los Angeles the following day, at 7:55 a.m.—the trip totaled about 23 hours.

NIGHTY NIGHT…In 1934 American Airlines was the only airline offering “sleeper planes,” as the ad at left claimed. The head of American Airlines, C.R. Smith, was obsessed with customer service and the amenities offered on his Curtiss Condors—roomy airplanes with sleeping berths that Margaret Case Harriman likened to beds in a Pullman railroad car. Passengers loved the Curtiss Condor, although the planes tended to catch fire and pilots found them difficult to fly. (archbridgeinstitute.org/American Airlines)
SKYTRAIN…Top, the passenger section of an American Airlines Curtiss Condor, circa 1930s; below, interior of a Boeing 247—note the steps in the aisle used to cross over the support beams that reinforced the 247’s wings. Also note the female attendant—the profession was dominated by male stewards in the first years of passenger service, but in the 1930s women took over the profession. (American Airlines/bethelgrapevine.com)
TWENTY-TWO HOURS and change on a United Airlines Boeing 247 would get you from Newark to San Francisco in 1934. Top, Passengers are shown boarding a United Airlines Boeing 247 at the Newark Airport circa 1934; United boasted the fastest multi-motored plane service with the 247, but TWA apparently offered the fastest service between coasts with its sleek new DC-2, seen in photo below. (bethelgrapevine.com)
HARD TO BEAT…A TWA Douglas DC-2 could get you to California faster than either United or American—fifteen hours from Newark to Los Angeles. (wahsonline.com)

When we think of flying in the 1930s many of us recall the great travel posters featuring Pan American’s Clipper Ships—flying boats that took passengers to exotic locations in the Caribbean and in Central and South America. Harriman wrote:

FLYING BOAT…Boasting nautical appointments including porthole windows, Pan Am’s Sikorsky S-42 offered roomy seats to its 32 passengers. Top, a postcard image of a Sikorsky S-42 in Miami in the 1930s; below, passenger cabin of the Sikorsky S-42. (clipperflyingboats.com/seawings.com.uk)

Harriman closed with some advice to readers unfamiliar with flying, including putting drops of Argyrol (a silver-protein antiseptic) into ones eyes to “prevent that ticking sensation in the temples.”

 * * *

No Offense Taken

Critic John Mosher was no fan of Jean Harlow’s, but he did acknowledge her box office appeal, and that fans eagerly awaited the Blonde Bombshell’s next picture, The Girl from Missouri…with its “usual plot of a gold-digger and millionaries.” Mosher also noted that Harlow, along with Mae West, was a prime target of reformers (see Hays Code) who wanted to ban “immorality” from the pictures, and he was eager to see how the Puritans had wielded their new censoring shears on the film.

GOING FOR THE GOLD…At right, Lionel Barrymore, Jean Harlow, and Patsy Kelly in The Girl from Missouri. (IMDB)

 * * *

From Our Advertisers

We begin with another ad from the makers of Spud menthol cigarettes, who deployed what seemed like every known visual metaphor to suggest that smoking their cigarettes “all day” would leave one feeling cool, clean and fresh, in this case as a blanket of newly fallen snow (an appealing sight in that hot summer of 1934)…

…R.J. Reynolds deployed any number of tricks to sell their Camels, from ads promoting their health benefits to endorsements by wealthy socialites, in this case Sarah Lippincott (“Mrs. Nicholas Biddle”) of Philadelphia…

…snob appeal was not limited to cigarette ads, as this full page from the folks at Chevrolet attests…

…zooming in on the copy that accompanied the above ad, we find that this fictive Chevy owner was a “marked woman” sought out by paparazzi and admired by couturiers…

Dr. Seuss continued his series of weird ads for Flit insecticide…

Helen Hokinson illustrated this patrician picnic scene to promote Heinz’s line of sandwich spreads…

…and we kick off our cartoons with Helen again, observing a proud moment…

Robert Day offered this observation on modern architecture…

Rea Irvin skewered the puritan set with his latest bird illustration…

William Steig’s precocious “Small Fry” visited Coney Island…

…and we close with E. Simms Campbell, and a sly introduction…

Next Time: Dizzy Drinks…

Men of Mystery

Photo above circa 1930 via mensfashionmagazine.com.

Lois Long took a break from reviewing the latest fashions to offer some thoughts on the relations between men and women, and more specifically, what was expected of women if they ever hoped to land the type of man who represented a “potential Future” for them.

August 4, 1934 cover by Otmar. Likely Otmar Gaul, sometimes spelled “Ottmar.”

Based on what we know about Long, this column has a strong “tongue-in-cheek” quality. It should also be noted that the 32-year-old Long had been divorced from cartoonist Peter Arno for three years, and was possibly contemplating the dating scene (she would marry newspaper ad man Donaldson Thorburn in 1938). In this excerpt, Long dispelled the notion that “the brutes” never notice a woman’s appearance:

THEY MIGHT BE BRUTES, but they notice the little things, according to Lois Long. (fashionhistory.fitnyc.edu)

SEEING RED…According to Long, discerning men preferred women in brimmed hats (actress Sylvia Sidney models above), but found red fingernails to be disturbing. (glamourdaze.com/vintagehairstyling.com)
SEEING RED in women’s clothes, however, wasn’t a problem, according to Long, who wrote that men liked to see women in bright, tropical colors. (clickamericana.com)

Long concluded that in the end, it didn’t matter what men thought about women’s clothes, but letting them “yap” about such things was a good way for them to blow off some steam.

Check out these patronizing examples from an illustrated guide for women published in 1938 by Click Parade magazine. It gives us some idea of what Long, and millions of other women, were up against…

(dailymail.co.uk)

 * * *

Fifth Avenue Remnant

The first years of The New Yorker coincided with some of the most transformational years in Manhattan’s urban fabric, including the replacement of Gilded Age mansions with upscale commercial buildings. One of the last remaining mansions was the Wendel house, featured in “The Talk of the Town.”

A ONCE GRAND MANSION becomes diminished as the city grows around it. At left, the Wendel mansion as it appeared circa 1901; at right, shorn of its balconies and shutters, the mansion shrinks in contrast to the city around it, circa 1930. (Wendel Family Papers, Special Collections and Archives, Drew University Library)
WHAT HO!…A “very British-looking” zinc-lined bathtub (with shower) was state-of-the-art when installed at the Wendel mansion. (New York Public Library)
BARELY A MEMORY….The glass-and-steel structure towering above the former Knox Hat Building sits on the site of the Wendel mansion. (Photo by Nicolson & Gallowy via Daytonian in Manhattan)

See Daytonian in Manhattan for more on the fascinating story of the Wendel mansion.

 * * *

Damned Lies

In his “Notes and Comment,” E.B. White noted the spurious nature of cinema newsreels, including one featuring the case of Thalia Massie, a navy wife stationed in Hawaii whose immature behavior and trail of lies would implicate five men in a crime they could not have committed (one would even be killed by vigilantes) and would cast Hawaii into a state of racial turmoil. (You can read more about it at the PBS site for American Experience.

FATAL FEMME…Thalie Massie, circa 1930. (Library of Congress)

 * * *

Blunders, Part II

Howard Brubaker commented on the twentieth anniversary of the outbreak of the Great War. Today we call it World War I, and as we know, the blunders did not cease with the Armistice.

 * * *

RIP Madame Curie

Janet Flanner, Paris correspondent for The New Yorker, noted the passing of Marie Curie, a pioneer in field of radioactivity.

THE CURIE CURE…Marie Curie and daughter Irène, 1925. (Wikipedia)

 * * *

From Our Advertisers

The folks at Chrysler were trying every angle to get car buyers interested in the Airflow—although the car offered a number of advanced features, consumers just weren’t ready for its radical aerodynamic design…note how the ad downplays the car’s sweeping curves…

…and we have more deception from the cigarette industry, including claims that cigarettes gave you more energy and improved the performance of top athletes…

…the makers of Chesterfields gave us this sunny picture of health…indeed, there was sunshine in every pack…

…The Brown & Williamson Tobacco Company launched KOOL cigarettes in 1933 as the sole competitor to the other menthol brand, Spud, which was a big advertiser in the early New Yorker. Maybe it was the coupons, or the modern brand name, that helped KOOL knock Spud from the market by the 1940s. As for those coupons, it appears each pack contained only one of them…

…so you would have to smoke a ton of those things to get one of these swell prizes…

…early Budweiser ads often featured images of the Old South…here they conjured up the ghost of Mark Twain (who had been dead only 24 years), putting the great humorist and writer on par with their bottled beer…

…Canada Dry didn’t have Mark Twain, but what they did have was a beer (Hupfel’s) lacking “that queer yeasty taste that beer usually has”…

…a couple of ads from the back pages featured, at left, an ad for a pre-mixed Tom Collins, which must have been awful, and at right, a spot for Bacardi rum, which was actually made in Cuba before the revolution…

…on to our cartoons, we begin with Alain (Daniel Brustlein) and some not-so-intrepid mountain climbers…

Otto Soglow’s Little King sought a glimpse of the street life…

William Steig took a dip with his Small Fry…

Isadore Klein gave us a glimpse of sensationalist radio reporting…

…and we close with Richard Decker, and a game of charades…

Next Time: Up in the Air…

His Five Cent’s Worth

Above: Final Design of Grand Central Terminal, ca. 1910. (New York Transit Museum)

The heat wave of 1934 spread misery from the Midwest to the East Coast. The temperature in New York City hit 101 degrees F (38.3 C) on June 29, and July recorded at least ten days of temps in the mid- to upper 90s. It must have been miserable in the days before air-conditioning, and since no adult would dare be seen in public wearing shorts and a t-shirt, an outing on a crowded tour boat, as illustrated below by William Cotton, must have been hellish.

July 21, 1934 cover by William Cotton.

…putting a fine point on it, recall this wryly captioned cartoon from the June 30 issue by Garrett Price

…but let us move ahead to the July 28 issue, where E.B. White was hopefully keeping his cool in the men’s waiting room at Grand Central Station, where he plunked down a nickel to cool his heels in the “middle class” section, where he observed side attractions including a vending machine that dispensed handkerchiefs and a coin-operated peep show featuring burlesque star Sally Rand.

NO MASHERS ALLOWED…Separate men’s and ladies’ rooms were available in three classes at Grand Central Station—free, five cents and ten cents. Top, the Ladies’ room, Grand Central Terminal (Central Lines), and below, a men’s room at the station. A nickel back then was worth about a dollar today. (Library of Congress)
NICKEL AND DIMED…Machines similar to these could be found in some men’s waiting rooms at train stations in the 1930s. (pinballhistory.com/comics.ha.com)

…White referred to a peep show that featured famed fan dancer Sally Rand

DOING HER DEEP KNEE BENDS…Sally Rand in the 1930s. (www.vintag.es)

White also commented on the growing number of travelers, still pinched by the Depression, opting for the free section:

We settle in with the June 21 issue (which leads this post) with White once again, this time enjoying a drive to Stamford, Conn., where he admired the “splendor” of the Condé Nast printing plant (apparently the plant also printed The New Yorker, although the magazine itself would not be acquired by Condé Nast’s parent company, Advance Publications, until 1985).

ONLY A MEMORY…Postcard image of the Condé Nast printing plant; at left, a relic of the long-gone plant, one of two pillars that flanked the road to the plant. (Greenwich Historical Society/greenwichtime.com)

 * * *

Disney’s Other Mouse

Film critic John Mosher was a fan of Disney’s “Silly Symphony” cartoon shorts, which were produced between 1929 and 1939. Animation, and especially color animation, was in its infancy, so these doubtless had an uplifting effect on many moviegoers.

DON’T CALL ME TINKERBELL…The Butterfly Fairy brought some Disney magic to 1934’s The Flying Mouse. (disney.fandom.com)

 * * *

The Great McGonigle

W.C. Fields appeared in more than a dozen silent films before making his first talkie, 1930’s The Golf Specialist, and it was in sound films that Fields was able to truly express his vaudevillian wit. It was also in the sound era that Fields teamed up with Baby LeRoy for three films (in 1933 and 1934), including The Old Fashioned Way, in which Fields portrayed “The Great McGonigle,” leader of a traveling (and perpetually underfunded) theater troupe who was always a step ahead of police and creditors. Critic John Mosher found the film’s riff on an old morality play, The Drunkard, to be a bit dated, but overall thought it a cheerful diversion.

HONK…Baby LeRoy, aka Ronald Le Roy Overacker (1932–2001), was just 16 months old when he became the youngest person ever put under term contract by a major studio. He is best known for his appearances in three W. C. Fields films: Tillie and Gus (1933), The Old Fashioned Way (1934) and It’s a Gift (1934). (Rotten Tomatoes/IMDB)

 * * *

From Our Advertisers

We begin with scientific proof (from a “famous research laboratory in New York”) that Camel cigarettes increased one’s flow of energy…

…if that crackpot claim doesn’t get you, here’s one that recommended downing a PBR before a big meeting, a sure remedy for that “listless, tired-out feeling”…

…of course we all know that a few sugary Cokes will get you going…back then they were taking it in six- and ten-ounce bottles, not 30- to 50-ounce Big Gulps…

…it’s not every day you see a dog food ad in The New Yorker…in the 1930s there was no secret to where ol’ Sparky ended up…

…popular were these Rockwellian ads that equated various products with happy and wholesome (and safe) living, in this case a massive “Dual-Balloon” tire that dominated this tableau featuring a stylish mommy and her little boy slumming with an old sea salt…

…the folks at Essex House hired an illustrator who did his or her best to channel Helen Hokinson and William Steig for this New Yorker ad…as we have seen before, Essex House ads walked a fine line between thrift and snob appeal…

…on to our cartoons, beginning with Ned Hilton, whose work appeared in The New Yorker from 1934 to 1957…

Mary Petty recorded some sweet nothings by the seaside…

George Price drifted along with two men and tuba…

Carl Rose revealed a modest side to life at a nudist colony…

…we know Clarence Day for his Life With Father series, but on occasion he also contributed illustrated poems such as this one from the July 21 issue…

…on to July 28…

July 28, 1934 cover by Adolph K. Kronengold.

…where we encounter more “scientific research” that encouraged folks to smoke…This ad was placed on the very last page of the July 28 issue by the Cigarette Research Institute, based in Louisville, Kentucky…

…the booklet was filled with “amazing facts” uncovered in a “scientific investigation,” facts did not address the health effects of smoking, but rather such important topics as how to hold a cigarette the right way and how to reduce staining on your teeth…it also helpfully debunked the notion that nicotine was a “dread demon”…

…take for example this woman smoking a Lucky…now she knew how to hold a cigarette!…

…the folks at Essex House were back, aggressively playing the class/caste card…apparently if you lived there you were entitled to kick your old friends to the curb…

…the antacid and pain reliever Bromo-Seltzer was ubiquitous in 1930s medicine cabinets, but after the recipe was changed in the 1970s (all Bromides were withdrawn from the U.S. market in 1975) the brand slowly fizzled away…

Mildred Oppenheim Melisse was a popular illustrator of ads for department stores and various household goods, including Cannon towels, here guaranteed to absorb even this man’s sweaty “flood”…

Dr. Seuss back again for Flit, once again having no issues mixing insecticide with food preparation…

Rea Irvin kicks off the cartoons with his Double Breasted Dowager…

Helen Hokinson found some misplaced pity at a garden party…

Garrett Price offered some unsolicited advice…

Reginald Marsh filled two pages with a scene from Central Park…

Robert Day looked for a unique experience at an auto camp…

…and we close with Barbara Shermund, and some alarming news on the domestic front…

Next Time: Men of Mystery…

The Happy Warrior

Above: Al Smith waving to crowds on arrival at Chattanooga, Tennessee during his presidential campaign in 1928. (Museum of the City of New York)

It’s hard to not like Al Smith, the governor of New York from 1923 to 1928, a man who avoided the temptations of political power and stayed true to his working class roots of the Lower East Side.

July 14, 1934 cover by Rea Irvin.

The son of Irish, Italian and German immigrants, Alfred Emanuel Smith (1873–1944) was raised in the Tammany Hall-dominated Fourth Ward, and although he was indebted to Tammany’s political machine throughout much of his professional life (including stints in the New York State Assembly and as York County Sheriff, President of the Board of Alderman, and finally Governor) he remained untarnished by corruption. Smith’s unsuccessful bid for the U.S. presidency in 1928 put an end to his political life, but there was still much to do, as “The Talk of the Town” explained:

HALL MONITORS…At left, Charles “Silent Charlie” Murphy with Al Smith in 1915. Murphy was the longest-serving head of Tammany Hall (1902 to 1924), and was known for transforming Tammany’s image from one of corruption to semi-respectability; at right, in 1929, Smith greets Franklin D. Roosevelt, who had just succeeded him as governor. (Library of Congress/Wikipedia)

Smith first sought the Democratic presidential nomination in 1924. According to historian Robert Slayton, Smith advanced the cause of civil liberty by decrying lynching and racial violence at the 1924 Democratic National Convention, where Franklin D. Roosevelt delivered the nominating speech for Smith and saluted him as “the Happy Warrior of the political battlefield.”

Following his 1928 presidential election loss to Herbert Hoover, Smith became president of Empire State, Inc., the corporation that built and also operated the Empire State Building, which was then the tallest building in the world. Smith was also known for his fondness of animals, and in 1934 Parks Commissioner Robert Moses made Smith “Honorary Night Zookeeper” of the renovated Central Park Zoo. Smith was given keys to the zoo and often took guests to see the animals after hours. According to Rebekah Burgess of the NYC Department of Parks and Recreation, “As a resident of 820 Fifth Avenue, directly across the street from the entrance of the Central Park Zoo, Smith was known to appear with snacks for the animals or to launch into impromptu lectures for visitors. Al Smith took his honorary title to heart. Throughout the rest of his life, Smith could often be found attending to the animals at the zookeepers’ sides during open hours. At night, Smith visited with guests, or more often, one-on-one with the animals.”

Smith was also a humanitarian, and in addition to advocating for the working class, he was an early critic of the Nazi regime in Germany, vigorously supporting the Anti-Nazi boycott of 1933. Here is another excerpt from the “Talk” piece:

LIFE OUTSIDE THE OFFICE…Scenes of post-political life, clockwise from top left: Al Smith fishing in 1933; with his family at the May 1, 1931 opening of the Empire State Building—Smith’s grandchildren cut the ribbon; golfing in 1930 with baseball great Babe Ruth in Coral Gables, Florida; with Rosie, the hippopotamus, at the Central Park Zoo, 1928. (Museum of the City of New York/Wikipedia)

 * * *

Culture Club

In the Nov. 9, 1929 issue of The New Yorker Murdock Pemberton hailed the opening of the Roerich Museum. For the July 14, 1934 issue, “The Talk of the Town” took another look. A brief excerpt:

MORE THAN A BUILDING…”The Talk of the Town” noted the changing shades of the art deco landmark Master Building on Riverside Drive (left, in 1929) which originally housed the Nicholas Roerich Museum. Today the Roerich is located in this brownstone at 319 West 107th. (Wikipedia)
FOOTNOTES FROM A FULL LIFE…Two of Nicholas Roerich’s paintings from the 1920s: at top, Remember, 1924; below, Drops of Life, 1924. (roerich.org)

 * * *

Itinerant Showman

Alva Johnston filed the first installment of a three-part profile of famed sports promoter Jack Curley (1876–1937). A brief excerpt:

FIGHT CLUB…Sports promoter Jack Curley (left) with boxing manager Eddie Kane, circa 1920. (Library of Congress)

 * * *

Over There

In his column “Of All Things,” Howard Brubaker made this brief mention of the “Night of the Long Knives;” on June 30, 1934 Adolf Hitler ordered SS guards to murder the leaders of the paramilitary SA along with hundreds of other perceived or imagined opponents.

Here is a clip from the front page of The New York Times, July 3, 1934:

(The New York Times)

 * * *

Pimm’s and Soda

July in England meant Wimbledon, and The New Yorker was there to observe the “snobbish and sacred” rite…

WATCH THE BOUNCING BALL…British tennis great Fred Perry (left) and Australian Jack Crawford before their men’s singles final at the 1934 Wimbledon tournament, which Perry won. Perry would claim three consecutive titles between 1934 and 1936. (Image: Mirrorpix)

 * * *

Midsummer Dreams

In the summertime (and before widespread use of air conditioning) stage entertainments such as theater and musical performances took to the outdoors during their off-season, seeking the evening cool of intimate rooftops or large, open venues such as Lewisohn Stadium, A brief excerpt describing a performance of Samson et Dalila:

EVENING SHADE: Andre Kostelanetz conducts at Lewisohn Stadium in 1939. The stadium was demolished in 1973 to make way for City College of New York’s North Academic Center. (PressReader.com)

 * * *

From Our Advertisers

The folks at struggling carmaker Hupmobile took out this bold, full-page ad to tout their flashy “Aero-Dynamic” by noted designer Raymond Loewy

…this ad from Harriet Hubbard Ayer was bold in a very different way, essentially calling some women ugly unless they used the company’s “beauty preparations”…

…consommé, a clear soup that was particularly popular among the upper classes, offered up some keen competition between two food giants…here Heinz enlisted the help of William Steig to move their product…

…while the folks at Campbell’s offered up this lovely patio setting for their “invigorating” consommé…

…meanwhile, White Rock mineral water could be found on patios all over Manhattan, as this ad attested…

…this is a reminder that most city folks had their milk and other dairy products delivered in the early part of the 20th century…by the early 1960s about 30 percent of consumers still had their milk delivered, dropping to 7 percent by 1975 and .4 percent by 2005…

…affordable home air-conditioning wouldn’t be available to the masses until after World War II…this unit (designed for a single room) from Frigidaire retailed for $340 (a little less than $8,000 today)…

…on to our cartoonists, we begin with Robert Day in the “Goings On’ section…

…Day again, exploring the baffling, glassy interiors of modern restaurants…

…the birdwatching continued with Rea Irvin

Alain (Daniel Brustlein) gave us a swimming somnambulist…

Helen Hokinson explored the paranormal, via domestic plumbing…

…and we close with James Thurber, and the missing Dr. Millmoss…

Next Time: His Five Cent’s Worth…

London Calling

Above: Illustration of the Dorchester Hotel’s ballroom in the 1930s. (dorchestercollection.com)

Lois Long took her nightlife column, “Tables for Two,” to London and its famed nightclub scene, where everyone from British royalty to gangsters reveled in a boozy, bohemian scene.

July 7, 1934 cover by Ilonka Karasz.

Prince Edward, a well-known party animal (who would serve as king for less than a year and abdicate in 1936) was known to get up on the stage of the Embassy Club and perform drum solos, while at the Savoy his fellow toffs would sip Champagne and glide in elegant dress across the dance floor. London nightlife included a lively jazz scene in edgy Soho basement clubs, featuring such greats as Duke Ellington, Louis Armstrong and Dizzy Gillespie.

Long hoped that the visit to London, her first in eight years, would give her some much-needed rest and a change of scene. What she found instead was a red-hot, all-night party, where the smart set took dinner near midnight and danced until dawn.

SAVVY SAVOY….Clockwise from top left, the famed Savoy bartender Harry Craddock, credited with inventing the White Lady and the Corpse Reviver, at the Savoy’s American Bar in the 1930s; a Savoy elevator operator in 1926; diners at the Savoy circa 1930s; Savoy entrance. (madamgenevaandgent.co.uk/The Savoy/YouTube)
LONDON SWINGS…More Lois Long haunts in London included, clockwise from top left, the Dorchester Hotel; the crowded dance floor at the Monseigneur with Roy Fox and his Orchestra (photo from 1932); patrons kicking up their heels at the Embassy Club on Old Bond Street; the Café de Paris, where American actress Louise Brooks demonstrated a new dance craze, The Charleston, in 1924. (dorchestercollection.com/albowlly.club/lucyjanesantos.com/Wikipedia)

 * * *

Misery Loves Company

In his “Notes and Comment,” E.B. White observed that almost everyone was “made miserable” by the Depression, but if one looked around there were signs that things weren’t so bad after all.

REASON FOR CHEER…For those still feeling blue about the Depression, E.B. White suggested watching kids cool off at a pier, such as these lads seen diving into the East River on the Lower East Side on July 3, 1935. (Jack Gordon/New York Daily News)

 * * *

He Came Up a Bit Short

Howard Brubaker, in his column “Of All Things,” made this observation about Adolf Hitler’s prediction that Nazism would endure a thousand years.

And now a retreat into the cool darkness of the cinema, where John Mosher singled out Bette Davis’s performance in Of Human Bondage…Mosher’s instincts were correct—the film proved to be Davis’s breakout role on her road to major stardom.

ROAD TO RUIN…Bette Davis wowed the critics with her portrayal of a tearoom waitress who seduces a young medical student (Leslie Howard) and leads him down a path of self-destruction. The film was based on the 1915 novel by W. Somerset Maugham. (IMDB)

Mosher also took in the “bright” performances of William Powell and Myrna Loy in The Thin Man, a pre-Code comedy-mystery based on the Dashiell Hammett novel by the same name. Powell and Loy portrayed Nick and Nora Charles, who added spice to their leisurely lives through numerous cocktails, flirtatious banter, and crime-solving. Critics loved the film, as did audiences, spawning five sequels from 1936 to 1947.

CHEERS…Top photo: Nick and Nora Charles (William Powell and Myrna Loy) enjoy a drink with their client’s fiancee (Henry Wadsworth) in The Thin Man (1934); Bottom photo: Charles takes aim at a Christmas ornament (with a BB gun) while Nora enjoys the comforts of her new fur coat in a scene from The Thin Man. (Daily Beast/Austin Chronicle)

Another star of the show was Asta, the Charles’s wire fox terrier. Asta was portrayed by Skippy, a dog actor who not only appeared in The Thin Man films but also acted alongside Cary Grant in 1937’s The Awful Truth and in 1938’s Bringing Up Baby. Skippy appeared in three Thin Man movies and in more than twenty films altogether between 1932 and 1941. Being an actor in the film must have been good for one’s health: Powell lived 91 years, Loy 88 years, and Skippy, 20 years—a good long life for any pooch.

ROUGH NIGHT…Nick (William Powell) and Asta (Skippy) tend to Nora (Myrna Loy), who nurses a hangover in The Thin Man. (Wikipedia)

 * * *

From Our Advertisers

While Chrysler’s styling of their streamlined Airflow proved to be too far advanced for the buying public (the Depression didn’t help), Studebaker’s own foray into the streamlined future caused a sensation…

…thanks to Studebaker’s brief merger with Pierce-Arrow (1928–33), Studebaker’s designers took cues from Pierce’s streamlined 1933 Silver Arrow and created more than 800 cars with “Year-Ahead” design features—the positive reception convinced the company to continue the style in 1935…here is a top-of-the-line 1934 President Land Cruiser…

1934 Studebaker President Land Cruiser with “Year-Ahead” design features, yet not as radical as Chrysler’s Airflow. (hemmings.com)

and the car that inspired it…

1933 Pierce-Arrow Silver Arrow. Photo copyright Darin Schnabel, courtesy RM Sotheby’s, via hemming.com.

…we continue with those round rubber things that held the cars up…a lot of tire ads in the 1930s emphasized safety—blowouts were common back then…funny how it took nearly four decades to add seat belts to cars…those tires wouldn’t help much in a head-on collision, especially with your kid standing on the from seat…

…now let’s cool off with crisp Canadian Ale, thanks to Carling’s entry into the American market…

…Carling’s Black Label beer was popular in the states…my parents had a set of these coasters with the Black Label tagline…

…Budweiser continued its artful series of ads featuring the well-heeled enjoying its product…here it appears old dad (wearing some kind of medal) is getting to know his daughter-in-law over some cold chicken…”hey boy, she’s one of us!”…

…and we move on to three very different approaches to selling cigarettes, beginning with Spud, continuing its message that menthol cigarettes are as refreshing as a shower on a July afternoon…

…a close up of the message…

…Camel, on the other hand, continued its campaign against irritability…it apparently did wonders for this woman, who seems to be on something more than nicotine…

…and from the people who brought us the tagline “blow some my way” in 1928 (as a way to encourage women to take up the habit), by 1934 she is owning that cigarette, and apparently setting some ground rules with the gentleman…

…contrast with the more submissive pose in the Chesterfield ad from the late 1920s…

…on to our cartoons, we begin with spot art by Alan Dunn, which appears to have originated as a captioned cartoon…

William Steig offered up this bit of art for a profile of an “insurance man” by St. Clair McKelway

Helen Hokinson drew up a full page of cartoons along the theme of outdoor dining…

…we continue Rea Irvin’s series on native birds…

George Price found a way to save on the cost of light bulbs…

…and we close with James Thurber, and a welcome to the family…

Next Time: The Happy Warrior…