Above: A group of eight East African elephants greet visitors to the American Museum of Natural History's Akeley Hall of African Mammals, which opened in 1936. The elephants are surrounded by twenty-eight habitat dioramas. (amnh.org)
One can instantly call up a photo on an iPad of every known animal on the planet, so why are people still fascinated by dead, stuffed animals displayed in glass cases?
May 2, 1936 cover by William Cotton.
To be accurate, most animals on display at natural history museums are not “stuffed;” they are an art form or sorts, anatomical sculptures covered with skins, posed in meticulous re-creations of their natural environments.
Ninety years after it opened to the public, the American Museum of Natural History’s Akeley Hall of African Mammals—named for the father of modern taxidermy Carl Akeley— still dazzles museum-goers with incredibly detailed dioramas (twenty-eight in all) that depict a range of African ecosystems. Writing for “A Reporter at Large” (titled “Africa Brought to Town”), Morris Markey marveled at the lifelike displays of flora and fauna, “every twig and grain of sand the very essence of Africa…”
DEATH AND LIFE(LIKE)…Clockwise, from top left, procession of elephants in the American Museum of Natural History’s Akeley Hall; the downside of dioramas—elephants slain in 1911 that now comprise “The Rear Guard” (elephants in back) of AMNH’s procession of elephants; Carl Akeley models a taxidermied elephant circa 1921; Akeley reclining on a bull elephant he killed in 1910 on an AMNH expedition. (uconn.edu/public domain/amnh.org)GETTING IT RIGHT…Clockwise from top left: Carl Akeley with his camera, circa 1920s—Akeley contributed hundreds of specimens and images of wildlife and plants to various American museums throughout the course of his career; James L. Clark, William R. Leigh and Richard Radatz relax during a 1926 African expedition to document the flora and fauna (through photos, sketches and paintings) for reference in creating true-to-life dioramas; unidentified expedition worker prepares plaster to make casts of collections (tree bark, leaves, rocks etc.). (amnh.org/uconn.org)MARRIAGE OF SCIENCE AND ART…Clockwise from top left: William R. Leigh landscape study; expedition artists made paintings en plein air as well as from specimens brought back to their tents (below). At bottom left is Carl Akeley’s second wife, Mary Lee Jobe Akeley (1886–1966), a well-known explorer and naturalist. It was her first expedition to Africa and Carl’s last—he would die of dysentery before the expedition concluded—so Mary took charge of the expedition, and was later named Carl’s successor as adviser to the American Museum of Natural History. (Leigh landscape courtesy Gerald Peters Gallery via jamesperrywilson.wordpress.com/still images taken from a short film of AMNH’s 1926 African Hall expedition, courtesy University of Connecticut)
Markey visited with museum director Roy Chapman, who likened the dioramas to “glimpses of Africa as they might be seen from a train window…” Since this was 1936, no one seemed too concerned about the ethical implications of hunting and killing animals for museum displays. It should be noted that most animals we see in major natural history museums today were killed during early 20th-century expeditions such as Akeley’s; animals used in new displays are often obtained from zoos or sanctuaries after dying of natural causes.
OUT OF AFRICA…Still image of giraffes taken from a short film of AMNH’s 1926 African Hall expedition; the AMNH’s “Water Hole” diorama; “Greater Koodoo” diorama; Clarence Rosenkranz working on the “Giant Sable” diorama. (amnh.org/uconn.org)
There is an undeniable appeal to these artificial environments. Although our digital age offers all sorts of them, there are still kids who like to build dioramas in shoeboxes. And for those of us who grew up in 1960s and 70s, there was the thrill of opening a new three-pack of View-Master reels, each slide revealing a three-dimensional, self-contained world.
And so it is with museum dioramas. They offer a moment of wonder and calm to viewers. As the noisy world collapses around them, these displays—however artificial—might inspire in some a greater appreciation of these creatures and their fragile environments.
One can imagine film critic John Mosher rubbing his eyes as he pondered the reasons why Hollywood insists on making overly long movies (also lamented by critics today). He also reviewed four new films, with little enthusiasm.
LONG IN THE TOOTH?…Clockwise from top left: Critic John Mosher seemed to imply that seven-year-old Shirley Temple (seen here with Buddy Ebsen in Captain January) was getting too old to play the precocious little healer; Douglas Fairbanks Jr. and Gordon Harker in The Amateur Gentleman; Janet Gaynor and Robert Taylor made cute in I Married a Doctor; movie poster for Lorenzino de ’Medici, which Mosher felt was best suited to Italian audiences. (letterboxd.com)
* * *
Getting Things Done
Journalist Hickman Powell filed the first part of a two-part profile of New York’s 45th Governor, Herbert Lehman (1878–1963). The first Jewish governor of New York, Lehman was a prominent liberal leader and a major philanthropist, known for implementing a “Little New Deal” that established a minimum wage, unemployment insurance, and public housing.
HMMM…William Cotton was a terrific caricaturist, but he seemed to miss the mark with this illustration of Gov. Herbert Lehman for the “Profile.” (Wikipedia)
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From Our Advertisers
The May 2 issue was crammed with ads for women’s summer fashions, which were defined by longer, leaner silhouettes…
…and by the increasing popularity of practical sports and casual clothes…
…the makers of Cadillac motorcars continued to emphasize their lower-priced LaSalle models for Depression-squeezed consumers…
…no fashion models or health claims here, just the allure of cigarette smoke courtesy Liggett and Myers…
…the distillers of Old Taylor wanted you to associate their product with the timeless work of William Shakespeare…after all, who’s going to sue them over image rights?…
…on to our cartoonists…Miguel Covarrubias, whose work was featured in The New Yorker’s first issue and was frequent in those early days, lent his talents to the theatre review section with this rendering from On Your Toes…
…something else I forgot to mention in my last post, On Your Toes also marked George Balanchine’s debut as a Broadway choreographer…
ON HIS TOES…At left, George Balanchine in 1942; at right, Tamara Geva in 1936’s Broadway production of On Your Toes. Geva, an actress, ballet dancer, and choreographer, was Balanchine’s first wife (married 1921-1926). (Wikipedia/instagram)
…we are seeing a lot of Richard Taylor in the 1936 issues, especially in providing spot illustrations such as this one…
…Charles Addams deployed some sarcasm on the domestic front…
…and Addams again, commenting on the fierce rivalry between the privately owned Interborough Rapid Transit (IRT) and the municipal subway systems…
…and we have two by Helen Hokinson, having misgivings about a greenhouse variety…
…and finding a personal commitment to a can of soup…
…Garrett Price had this man doing some wishful thinking…
…William Steig used a two-page spread to illustrate a day at the drugstore…
…another drawing from the group, appearing on the left-hand page…
…keeping it in the family, we have one byHenry Anton Steig (William Steig’s brother)…according to Michael Maslin’s indispensable Ink Spill, Henry contributed nineteen drawings to The New Yorker from 1932 to 1936 under the name Henry Anton…this one was his final contribution…
…Whitney Darrow Jr drew up this over-enthusiastic maître d’…
…Barbara Shermund went apartment hunting…
…and we close with Daniel ‘Alain’ Brustlein, and a room with a view…
Above: Behind the scenes production photo of the space gun used to launch a manned projectile to the moon in Things to Come. (Instagram)
One of the most anticipated films of the 1930s was the British production of Things to Come. Loosely based on the 1933 science fiction novel by H.G. Wells,The Shape of Things to Come, the film was an extraordinarily ambitious and expensive production featuring a huge cast and elaborate sets, both full-scale and in miniature.
April 25, 1936 cover by Rea Irvin.
Critic John Mosher wasn’t quite sure what to make of Things to Come, seizing on the film’s promise to end the common cold.
CLEANING CREW…A businessman in Everytown in the 1940s, John Cabal (Raymond Massey) returns in the 1970s to find his city in ruin and governed by a warlord. As a member of a secret organization called “Wings Over the World” (comprised of the last surviving band of engineers and mechanics), Cabal orders his organization to send giant flying wings over Everytown and saturate the population with a “Gas of Peace.” Not only does the gas make the population tranquil, it also kills the warlord, played by Ralph Richardson (right). (midnightonly.com/instagram.com)
In a review for The Criterion Collection, Geoffrey O’Brien notes that the film’s shocking scenes of war were shown to an audience “in active denial, many of them, of the possibility of such things coming to pass in the near future.”
But an antiseptic city with a population made docile by a “Gas of Peace” didn’t appear to be something one would look forward to either. O’Brien points to Jorge Luis Borges’ remarks regarding Things to Come: “The heaven of Wells and Alexander Korda, like that of so many other eschatologists and set designers, is not much different than their hell, though even less charming.” Borges dismissed the notion that science and technology would be the rallying force against tyranny: “In 1936, the power of almost all tyrants arises from their control of technology.”
WAR AND PEACE…At left, bombers lay waste to Everytown in the 1940s, seemingly forecasting The Blitz of London in 1940-41; at right, decades later, “Wings Over the World” sends giant flying wings (right) over Everytown to saturate the population with a “Gas of Peace.” (Illinois.edu/facebook.com)UTOPIA?…After years of rebuilding, a new, underground Everytown emerges in 2036. The set (left) was designed by director William Cameron Menzies and Bauhaus artist Laszlo Moholy-Nagy. Above, transportation included autogyros; both men and women wore futuristic togas, including John Cabal’s great-granddaughter Catherine Cabal (Pearl Argyle). Note the acrylic furniture, ubiquitous in the future scenes of the film. (midnightonly.com/facebook.com/YouTube)
O’Brien concludes: “There is no way any audience, in the 1930s or now, would be likely to accept Raymond Massey’s Oswald Cabal as an empathetic spokesperson for the human race. He is essentially the chairman of the board of a quasi-fascist ruling elite—and not so very far from the idea that Wells, at best ambivalent about democracy, in fact had in mind.”
In all fairness, I should note that Massey did not like his character’s “heavy-handed speeches” that lacked human emotion. He complained H.G. Wells prioritized cold scientific ideals over personal character depth. “For heart interest, Mr. Wells hands you an electric switch,” Massey stated.
WISHES SOMETIMES COME TRUE…In the movie, a little girl in the year 2036 receives a history lesson from her great grandfather (including a video of 1936 New York), and she expresses delight that people will “keep on inventing things and making life lovelier and lovelier.” The little girl was played by eight-year-old Anne McLaren. The great grandfather was played by Charles Carson (1885–1977). (midnightonly.com)DAME McLAREN…In real life that little girl, Anne McLaren (1927–2007), did make life better, becoming a leading figure in developmental biology and paving the way for other women in science. Her work also helped lead to the development of human invitrofertilization. Dame Anne Laura Dorinthea McLaren received many honors for her research and ethical contributions. (YouTube.com/Wikipedia)POW! TO THE MOON…At left, Catherine Cabal (Pearl Argyle) and fellow scientist Maurice Passworthy (Kenneth Villiers) prepare to fly around the moon, launched from a gigantic space gun (right). (theguardian.com/YouTube)
Interestingly, Raymond Massey (1896–1983) and most of the film’s cast would live to see an actual moon landing in just 33 years. Most of them would also be involved in some way in the Second World War, Massey being wounded as part of the Canadian regiment.
American writer and editor Al Graham (1905–1972), who contributed a number of poems and “Talk of the Town” pieces to The New Yorker in the Thirties and Forties, offered some thoughts regarding Things to Come. Here are excerpts of the first and last parts of his piece:
SLOW AND STEADY…Al Graham is perhaps best known for his 1930s humorous verse and children’s literature such as Timothy Turtle (1946) and The Rhymes of Squire O’Squirrel (1963). At right is a cover of the first edition of H.G. Wells’The Shape of Things to Come. (Wikipedia)
Incidentally, the British automaker Triumph used Wells’ title in a 1970s ad campaign for the TR-7…
(The Daily Drive)
While we are talking movies, Mosher also reviewed Frank Capra’sMr. Deeds Goes to Town. Films such as Mr. Deeds and It’s a Wonderful Life were Capra’s “love letters to an idealized America—a cinematic landscape of his own invention,” wrote social critic Morris Dickstein. Or as actor/director John Cassavetes once observed: “Maybe there really wasn’t an America, it was only Frank Capra.” Whatever it was, Mr. Deeds would win Capra his second Oscar for Best Director (he would win three in all, plus a fourth for a World War II documentary).
HAPPY ENDING…Mr. Deeds (Gary Cooper) finds love and salvation with Jean Arthur in Mr. Deeds Goes to Town. (britannica.com)
* * *
Ah-Choo!
Those familiar with E.B. White’s writings are likely also familiar with his lifelong struggle with hay fever, or “catarrh” as it was also referred to in those days. White notably wrote about his condition in a 1938 New Yorker essay, “Daniel Webster, the Hay Fever, and Me.” He addresses the malady in his April 25, 1936 “Notes and Comment” column:
SNEEZING AND HONKING…Despite his allergies, E.B. White had a deep love for the countryside and nature. Although he grew up just outside New York City, he cultivated a love of rural life that was finally realized when he and wife Katharine bought a farm near Brooklin, Maine. Above is a 1974 photo (by Jill Krementz) of White at his Maine farm. (cornell.edu)
One of the more common and effective treatments for allergies in the Thirties was the benzedrine inhaler. The active ingredient was amphetamine. It was safe if inhaled, however some folks got the idea to crack open the inhaler and swallow the contents, which would induce a mind-altering effect (the amount of amphetamine in the inhaler was 250 milligrams, much greater than the five or ten milligrams in tablets prescribed for depression).
NOT SHIRLEY TEMPLE, however the marketers of the inhaler probably wanted consumers to make the connection. (mcgill.ca)
* * *
Before the Internet
What did some folks do in the evening before modern-day distractions? According to “The Talk of the Town,” at least one man and his family loved to gawk at the new Wrigley sign in Times Square.
CHEW ON THIS…The Wrigley sign spanned the block on Broadway from 44th Street to 45th Street. Designed by artist Dorothy Shepard, the display featured fish blowing bubbles and was lit by 29,608 lamps and 1,084 feet of neon tubing. It was so large that its electrical power usage was estimated to be equivalent to a small city of ten thousand people. (Wikipedia)
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From Our Advertisers
White Rock continued its series of brightly illustrated ads, this most likely the work of noted illustrator John Holmgren…
…Stage magazine continued to promote its star-studded content in full-page color ads…this one featured American stage and film actress Ina Claire…
Ina Claire, center, with Osgood Perkins and Doris Dudley in End of Summer.(jacksonupperco.com)
…ah, the pleasure of an after-dinner Lucky back in the day when you could still smoke indoors…
…another ad for Green Giant Niblets featuring a rich old toff who’s just over the moon about canned corn…
…these surreal Lyse Darcy ads for Guerlain really stood out in the magazine…
…speaking of standing out, who could resist the distraction of a tabloid, especially with the Gray Lady folded in one’s lap?…Alain illustrates…
…and per James Thurber, who was immune to the charms of a woman with a heart tattooed on her hip?…
…Charles Addams showed us a man with a built-in fishing advantage…
…Gregory d’Alessio gave us an understandable marital mix-up…
…Helen Hokinson offered a dose of “meh” in the hat department…
…Garrett Price showed us the consequences of Robert Moses’s transformation of Long Island from a rural area for the rich into a suburban landscape for the hoi polloi…
…and we close with Peter Arno, who wondered what’s the fun of drinking in the tropics when you can do the same thing in Queens?…
Above: Alfred Lunt and Lynn Fontanne headed the cast of Idiot's Delight, a Pulitzer-Prize-winning play by Robert E. Sherwood. The anti-war play premiered at Broadway's Shubert Theatre on March 24, 1936, and ran for three hundred performances. (latimes.com)
Set against the backdrop of impending war in Europe, Robert Sherwood’sIdiot’s Delight was a timely exploration of how individuals might respond to a major upheaval. The play’s themes about the futility of war resonate as much today as they did in 1936.
April 4, 1936 cover by Harry Brown. Although he created some distinctive, whimsical covers for The New Yorker (including today’s), there is very little biographical information available on the artist. Brown created eighteen covers for the magazine from 1931 to 1937.
Presented at Shubert Theatre, the Pulitzer Prize-winning play was set at a hotel in the Italian Alps, where the guests—among them a military captain, a German scientist, a radical socialist, and a honeymooning couple—find themselves trapped by the sudden onset of world war. The cast was led by Alfred Lunt, who played a small-time American entertainer accompanied by a troupe of chorines, and Lynn Fontanne, who portrayed a mysterious Russian woman who was traveling with an arms dealer.
The Pulitzer jury called the play first-rate, full of dramatic invention and “Molierian richness.” Critic Robert Benchley heartily agreed:
FRIVOLITY AMID THE CHAOS OF WAR…Clockwise, from top left, souvenir program for Idiot’s Delight; Alfred Lunt and Lynn Fontanne in a scene from the play; playwright Robert E. Sherwood; Lunt with a chorus line in Idiot’s Delight. The New York Times critic Brooks Atkinson wrote that the play “demonstrates Mr. Sherwood’s taste for exuberance and jovial skulduggery.”(eBay.com/nypl.org/imdb.com)
Benchley concluded that the play was at once entertaining and edifying:
FORGET ABOUT IT…In Idiot’s Delight, Sydney Greenstreet (left) portrayed a doctor who, in the face of senseless war deaths, gives up on his life-saving research; at right, Jean MacIntyre (left) portrayed Mrs. Cherry, part of a young English honeymooning couple stranded at a hotel due to the sudden closing of the border. With her in the scene are Fontanne and Lunt. (radioclassics.com/Public Domain)
Sherwood adapted the play into a 1939 film of the same name, starring Norma Shearer and Clark Gable.
* * *
Earth Gazing
In his “Notes and Comment,” E.B. White mused about plans at the Hayden Planetarium for a program that would give visitors some idea of how earth would appear from a point in space. Earthlings would have to wait until 1968 to actually see a clear, color image of their planet.
THE WONDER OF IT ALL…Clockwise, from top left, the cosmosarium at the Hayden Planetarium, circa 1935; Howard Russell Butler’s attempt at an accurate portrayal of the earth for the American Museum of Natural History, circa 1920s; in 1966, Lunar Orbiter I sent back this image of Earth from the vicinity of the Moon; Earthrise is a famous photograph of Earth taken from lunar orbit by astronaut William Anders on December 24, 1968, during the Apollo 8 mission. (facebook.com/pinterest.com/NASA)
* * *
From Russia With Love
Journalist and literary critic Edmund Wilson Jr (1895–1972) traveled in Russia from May to October 1935, and later filed a couple of articles in The New Yorker detailing his travels. Writing for the column “A Reporter at Large,” Wilson described his journey by boat from London to Leningrad, finding an unexpected kinship with his Soviet cabin mates. Excerpts:
DESTINATION…Leningrad’s Nevsky Prospect 1930s; Edmund Wilson Jr in 1936. (pinterest.com/Wikipedia)
Wilson found that he preferred the company of the Soviets to a stuffy English couple who were his dining companions. He concluded:
It should be noted that Wilson, despite his Marxist sympathies, would soon become disillusioned with the Soviet experiment; his travels concluded just before the onset of Josef Stalin’s “Great Purge,” which featured the notorious Moscow Show Trials that sent millions of innocent Soviet citizens to labor camps or to their deaths in prisons.
DOOMED…During the Great Terror, which included the notorious show trials of Stalin’s former Bolshevik opponents in 1936-1938 and reached its peak in 1937 and 1938, millions of innocent Soviet citizens were sent off to labor camps or killed in prison. This image from 1936 shows defendants dressed in prison clothing during one of the Moscow Show Trials. (umkc.edu)
* * *
At the Movies
Film critic John Mosher observed that moviegoers mostly needed “thrills and nonsense” at the cinema. Thrills were not to be found, but Harold Lloyd provided the nonsense.
PUNCH LINES…Harold Lloyd (left), portrayed an unlikely middleweight boxer in The Milky Way. Above is a scene with Adolphe Menjou (center) and Lionel Stander. (obscurehollywood.net)
The “thriller” of the week was Moonlight Murder, which Mosher suggested audiences could “dismiss at once.”
DISMISSED…Katharine Alexander, Leo Carrillo and Benita Hume in Moonlight Murder. (rotten tomatoes.com)
Mosher also offered tepid reviews of Everybody’s Old Man and Sutter’s Gold, despite these films featuring a popular humorist and a respected character actor, respectively.
SAY SOMETHING FUNNY…Rochelle Hudson, Irvin S. Cobb and Warren Hymer in Everybody’s Old Man. (imdb.com)WHO AM I?…A vague narrative left critic John Mosher wondering if Edward Arnold’s character was supposed to be a “hero, villain, scamp, or fool” in Sutter’s Gold. Above, Arnold in a scene with Binnie Barnes. (film booster.com)
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From Our Advertisers
Arrow Shirts rolled out a colorful array of pre-shrunk sanforized shirts and neckties just in time for the Easter holiday…
…from the 1930s through the 1950s the distinctive voice of James Wallington (1907–1972) filled the airwaves on both radio and television…here he endorses those “Sanforized Shrunk” shirts…
…French costume designer and illustrator Marcel Vertès (1895–1961) provided the art for the Antoine de Paris lipstick line at Saks…Vertès created the original murals in the Carlyle Hotel’s Café Carlyle and in the Waldorf-Astoria’s Peacock Alley… he also won two Academy Awards for his work on the 1952 film Moulin Rouge…
…Hockanum Mills announced its new line of woolens for the spring racing season…
Hockanum’s Rockville mills were shut down in 1951. Today the site is being redeveloped for commercial and light industrial uses as well as the site for the New England Motorcycle Museum. (historicbuildingsct.com)
…more claims from R.J. Reynolds regarding the gastrointestinal benefits of their Camel cigarettes…
…while Liggett and Myers stuck with the pleasures of hearth and home, and a pack of Chesterfields…
…on to the cartoon section, we begin with Christina Malman…
…Richard Taylor…
…Robert Day…
…and a wonderful spot drawing by illustrator and children’s book author Helen Moore Sewell…
…who won a Caldecott Medal for her illustrations featured in Alice Dalgliesh’sThe Thanksgiving Story (1954)…
…we go shopping with Helen Hokinson in the garden section…
…and in the hat department…
…Mary Petty caught up on the latest gossip…
…Perry Barlow gave us a shopkeeper in need of some marketing tips…
…William Steig continued to probe the joys of married life…
…even one’s dream world required some careful grooming, per Otto Soglow…
…James Thurber drew up a duet out of tune…
…outside of Wall Street, Leonard Dove’s titan of business was just another sugar daddy…
…and we close with Peter Arno, and strangers on a train…
Above: Illustration and article on "Typhoid Mary" that appeared in 1909 in The New York American. At right, Mary Mallon with other quarantined inmates on North Brother Island. (Wikipedia)
The Irish-born Mary Mallon (1869–1938) lived a simple life as a maid and a cook, and it would have been a life of anonymity save for a sad twist of fate on the day she was born.
Jan. 26, 1935 cover by Perry Barlow.
History knows Mary Mallon as Typhoid Mary. From 1901 to 1907 she would cook for seven wealthy New York families that would later contract typhoid. Mallon was born to a mother who was infected with typhoid, which offers a possible explanation as to why she became an asymptomatic carrier of the disease. Forcibly quarantined on North Brother Island (near Long Island) from 1907 to 1910, Mallon agreed upon her release to take hygienic precautions, including ending her occupation as a cook.
When other jobs failed to pan out, Mallon returned to cooking—this time in restaurants and hotels—infecting many more while evading investigators who were desperately trying to track her down (it is estimated she infected up to 122 people, resulting in as many as four-dozen deaths). When she was finally arrested in 1915, she was returned to North Brother Island, where she would live out her days. Stanley Walker (1898–1962), a native Texan, longtime editor of the New York Herald Tribune, and a New Yorker contributor from 1925 to 1956, featured Mallon in a profile for the Jan. 26, 1935 issue. Some brief excerpts:
* * *
The Latest Sensation
Mary Mallon was the source of sensational headlines in the early 1900s, but even she couldn’t top the media frenzy prompted by the Lindbergh baby kidnapping and the trial of accused murderer Bruno Hauptmann.The New Yorker’s Morris Markey went to the courthouse in Flemington, New Jersey, to file this report for “A Reporter at Large.” Excerpts:
TRIAL OF THE CENTURY…Clockwise, from top left: Bruno Hauptmann (center) at his murder trial, which ran from Jan. 2 to Feb. 13, 1935, in Flemington, New Jersey; Charles Lindbergh takes the witness stand; novelist Fanny Hurst and gossip columnist Walter Winchell at the trial on Jan. 30, 1935—the “Trial of the Century” was followed by more than 700 reporters; police ropes contained the large crowds gathered at the courthouse. (Library of Congress/umass.edu/Courier Post)
Hauptmann would be convicted of the crime and immediately sentenced to death. On April 3, 1936, he would meet his end in an electric chair at the New Jersey State Prison, maintaining his innocence to the very end.
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From Our Advertisers
On to our ads, we begin with another colorful spot from Penn Maryland, and jolly times on Miami Beach…
…here is the first in a series of ads that the makers of Old Gold cigarettes (Lorillard) began running in 1935, featuring a sugar daddy and his leggy mistress…they were drawn by George Petty (1884–1975), famed for his “pin-up girls” featured on many magazine covers as well as in ads for Old Gold, Jantzen swimsuits, and TWA, among others…
…here is Petty at work in 1939…
…Buffalo-based Pierce-Arrow was known for its expensive luxury cars, which were not exactly hot sellers during the Great Depression; moreover, Pierce was the only luxury brand that did not offer a lower-priced car to provide cash flow to the company, and contrary to the claims in this ad, Pierce-Arrow would close its doors by 1938…
…one thing alive and well in the 1930s was sexism, and here is a good example from the makers of a popular line of soups…
…The Theatre Guild called upon the talents of James Thurber to promote their latest production…
…and we continue with Thurber as move into the cartoons…
…where Robert Day found some miscasting in a Civil War epic…
…George Price’s floating man seemed to be coming back to earth…
…Day again, with a sure-fire way to defend one’s goal…
…Alan Dunn offered words of wisdom from the pulpit…
…and we close with Barbara Shermund, and a familiar face…
Above: Surgery being performed at the Hospital of Saint Raphael (Conn.) in the late 1930s. Operating rooms were often located near large windows and under skylights to offer greater illumination. (Yale New Haven Hospital)
For all the challenges of 21st century, I always remind myself that advances in medicine during the past ninety years have made our lives better, and substantially longer, even if our current health care system is far from ideal.
Feb. 3, 1934 cover by E. Simms Campbell.
People could live to a ripe old age in the 1930s, however the average life expectancy at birth in 1930 was only 58 for men and 62 for women. The Depression didn’t help matters, and neither did the Dust Bowl, unregulated urban smog, the dramatic rise in smoking, and the lingering effects of more than a decade of bootleg alcohol consumption.
Polio was a serious problem in the 1930s, as was syphilis, which affected as many as ten percent of Americans. Blood groups would not be identified until 1930 (by Nobel Prize-winner Karl Landsteiner), and human nutrition remained something of a puzzle—Vitamin C wasn’t identified until 1932. There was exciting chatter about penicillin (discovered in late 1920s) and the antibacterial effects of sulfonamides (first observed in 1932), but it would be years before antibiotics would come into common use. So yes, infection was also a big killer.
Nevertheless, progress had been made, as told by Morris Markey in the column, “A Reporter at Large.” An excerpt:
FORTRESS ON THE HEIGHTS…Top, Columbia-Presbyterian Medical Center loomed large when it opened in Washington Heights in 1928; below, New York Hospital, most likely the building described in Morris Markey’s column; at left, Dr. George Crile, Sr., completing his landmark 25,000th thyroid operation in 1936. (CUIMC/Wikipedia/Cleveland Clinic)
This next excerpt describes the work of the anesthetist after the patient receives a spinal injection of novocaine, which had replaced cocaine as a pain blocker. At the start of the 1930s, the most-used anesthetic was ether, used in this account to calm the patient. Ether carried its own risks—in was unstable, and sparks from X-ray machines and other equipment could cause an explosion.
NO SMOKING, PLEASE…Anesthetist in the 1920s carefully administers ether while surgeon swabs a patient with iodine (inset). Ether was unstable, and sparks from equipment could cause an explosion. (Internet Archive/Flickr)
* * *
And Then There’s Maude
American actress and stage designer Maude Ewing Adams (1872–1953) defined the role of “the boy who wouldn’t grow up” in her Broadway adaptations of Peter Pan in the early 1900s (1905, 1906, 1912 and 1915). She would appear in 26 Broadway productions between 1888 and 1916, but after a severe bout of the Spanish flu in 1918 she retired from the stage and focused on developing better stage lights with General Electric; her electric lights ultimately set the industry standard with the advent of sound movies. As this excerpt from “The Talk of the Town” revealed, Adams was also quite shy and highly valued her privacy.
THE RETIRING SORT…Maud Adams in a Broadway publicity photo, circa 1900. (Vintage Everyday)
* * *
In The Trenches
Just before the Nazis decided to turn their country back into a warlike state, Victor Trivas and George Shdanoff wrote and directed an allegorical anti-war film. Niemandsland (released in the U.S. as Hell on Earth) featured five soldiers, from different backgrounds, who find themselves together in a dugout in no man’s land and together come to terms with the absurdity of war. The film premiered in Berlin in December 1931 and was greeted by thunderous applause. A little over a year later it was banned by the Nazis. Critic John Mosher made these observations:
WAR, WHAT’S IT GOOD FOR?…Niemandsland (released in the U.S. as Hell on Earth) featured five soldiers from different backgrounds on a front lines during WWI: a carpenter from Berlin, a mechanic from Paris, an English officer, a Jewish tailor and a Black dancer (the only one who understands everyone’s languages). Actor and dancer Louis W. Douglas (top right) was a Philadelphia native who moved to Paris in 1925 with his dancing partner, Josephine Baker, in the popular La Revue Nègre. He went on to establish a successful musical and film career in Germany until his death in 1939. (silverinahaystack.wordpress.com/IMDB)
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From Our Advertisers
We begin with this jolly color image from Lucky Strike representing the joys of cigarette smoking…
…a trio of ads culled from the back pages, everything from “Tiara Trouble” (apparently a common problem) to a smoking penguin introducing a new line of menthol cigarettes, KOOL, challenging the dominance of the Spud menthol brand (we know who won that battle)…in the final ad, Atlantic City resort hotel Haddon Hall attempted to drum up business using a slavery/emancipation theme—Abraham Lincoln’s birthday is at hand…why not slip the shackles of work and run away to sunshine and freedom?…
…These Paul Whiteman ads were ubiquitous in the 1930s…the distinctive caricature of his pudgy, mustachioed face—Whiteman’s “Potato Head” emblem—was featured in ads and on 78 rpm record labels and various promotional items…on the more classical side, violinist David Rubinoff sawed away on his famed $100,000 Stradivarius for audiences at the Roosevelt Hotel…
…automobile ads continued to grace the pages of The New Yorker, including this one suggesting that young blue bloods would look quite smart in a ’34 Chevy…
…in the 1930s Studebaker marketed car lines including the high-end President, the mid-priced Commander, and the low-priced Dictator…the Dictator was introduced in 1927, so named because it “dictated the standard” other automobile makes would be obliged to follow…the rise of Mussolini and Hitler attached unsavory connotations to the car’s moniker…it was renamed “Director” for European markets and was finally abandoned in 1937…
…Chrysler continued to push its radical new Airflow, here demonstrating how it blows the doors off of an old-timer…
…as we jump into our cartoons, Kemp Starrett referenced the Airflow in his latest contribution to The New Yorker…
…the issue included two from George Price…a playful pairing in the events section…
…and a somewhat unkind nod to new Hollywood star Katharine Hepburn…apparently David O. Selznick had misgivings about casting a “horse face” like her…well, she obviously proved him wrong…
…the magazine pulled out this old illustration by H.O. Hofman to break up the copy in Howard Brubaker’s “Of All Things” column…
…more antics from the precocious set, courtesy Perry Barlow…
…Mary Petty offered this observation on the state of medicine in 1934…
…a sobering and topical contribution from Alan Dunn…
…Carl Rose made preparations for the annual Charity Ball…
…and James Thurber gave us Part III of his “War Between Men and Women”…
It’s hard to believe in this day and age that a theoretical physicist could enjoy rock star status, but then Albert Einstein wasn’t your everyday theoretical physicist.
Dec. 2, 1933 cover by Helen Hokinson.
A two-part profile of Einstein (1879–1955) by Alva Johnston (with terrific caricature by Al Frueh) examined the life and “idol” status of a man who would define the idea of genius in the 20th century. Although Einstein desired to live an almost reclusive existence at Princeton University, Johnston noted that he had become “fairly reconciled to the occupation of popular idol.”
Einstein was at Princeton thanks to the rise of Adolf Hitler, who came to power in Germany in early 1933 while Einstein was visiting the United States. Returning to Europe that March, Einstein knew he could not return to his home country (indeed, the Gestapo had raided his Berlin apartment and eventually seized all of his property), so when Einstein landed in Antwerp, Belgium on March 28, 1933, he immediately went to the German consulate and surrendered his passport, formally renouncing his German citizenship.
I’M OUTTA HERE…Albert Einstein with a Zionist delegation from France, Belgium, and England upon leaving the SS Belgenland in Antwerp, Belgium, 1933. (United States Holocaust Memorial Museum)
After some time in Europe and Great Britain, in October 1933 Einstein accepted an offer made earlier by from the Institute for Advanced Study in Princeton, New Jersey to serve as a resident scholar. When he arrived with his wife, Elsa, he said he would seclude himself at the Institute and focus on his teaching and research.
(NY Times, Oct. 18, 1933)EINSTEIN WASN’T FIDDLIN’ AROUND when he played his cherished violin—he once said that if he hadn’t been a scientist, he would have been a musician. This photo was taken at Einstein’s Princeton home in November 1933—he and fellow members of a string quartet were practicing for a December concert at the Waldorf-Astoria to raise money for German-Jewish refugees. From left to right, sitting: Arthur (Ossip) Giskin, Toscha Seidel, Albert Einstein, and Bernard Ocko; standing: Estelle Manheim (Seidel’s wife), Elsa Einstein and unidentified man. (Leo Baeck Institute)
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Stop and Go
E.B. White devoted his “Notes and Comment” to Manhattan’s traffic situation, which he found manageable as long as tourists stayed out of the way…
White also noted the perils of Park Avenue, especially the taxi drivers (distracted by those newfangled radios) darting between the islands…
Park Avenue in the 1930s. (geographicguide.com)
…and then there was Fifth Avenue, notorious for traffic jams, made worse on weekends by the tourist traffic…
Fifth Avenue in 1932. (New York State Archives)
…later in “The Talk of the Town” White continued his thoughts on New York taxis, namely the introduction of coin-operated radios installed for use by passengers…
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Fly Newark
Albert L. Furth took us off the mean streets and into the air when he filed this account about the Newark Metropolitan Airport for “A Reporter at Large.” Furth seemed put off by the cachet of European airports and their many amenities, given that the Newark airport—although admittedly utilitarian—was the busiest in the world. An excerpt:
FREQUENT FLIER…Albert Furth noted that Newark Municipal Airport logged a landing or departure every thirteen-and-a-half minutes. Above, passengers boarding a Boston-bound American Airlines Condor at Newark Airport in 1930. In those simpler times, passengers just walked to the runway and climbed on board. The airport had opened two years earlier on 68 acres of reclaimed swampland along the Passaic River. It was the first major commercial airport in the New York metro area and the first anywhere with a paved runway. (njmonthly.com)
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Goodnight, Speakeasy
Lois Long was an 17-year-old Vassar student when Prohibition went into effect in 1919, so when she started her career in New York in 1922 the only nightlife she knew revolved around speakeasies. Although she held Prohibition officers in disdain, she also believed that the repeal of the 18th Amendment would lower the quality of New York nightlife—the food, the “adroit service,” and the “genial din” of the speakeasy. Excerpts:
FROM LOUCHE TO LEGAL…Lois Long was saying a sad goodbye to her beloved speakeasies; perhaps the Algonquin Hotel (here, circa 1930) would offer some cheer. (Pinterest)
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From Our Advertisers
Abercrombie & Fitch (then an outfitter for the elite outdoorsman) was offering holiday shoppers everything from multi-tool knives to cocktail shakers…
…while the folks at Clerevu telescopes found a growing market for folks who used their product for anything but stargazing…
…with Repeal just days away, the Pleasant Valley Wine Company of New York hoped folks would pop a few of their corks before the good stuff arrived from France…
…the British were coming to the rescue via the Berry Brothers, who were overseeing the importation of liquor from their offices at Rockefeller Center’s British Empire Building…
…let’s look at an assortment of one-column ads…the center strip features an ad promoting Angna Enters’ appearance for “one evening only” at The Town Hall (123 West 43rd Street)…Enters (1897–1989) was an American dancer, mime, painter and writer who likely performed her piece Moyen Age…
FEEL THAT STRETCH…Angna Enters performing Moyen Age, circa early 1930s. (NYPL)
…we begin our cartoons with Gardner Rea, and a dedicated bell ringer…
…Otto Soglow showed us a softer side of The Little King…
…Peter Arno revealed the human side of the posh set…
…and we close the Dec. 2 issue with this classic from James Thurber…
…on to Dec. 9, 1933, and a cover by an artist we haven’t seen in awhile, Ilonka Karasz…
Dec. 9, 1933 cover by Ilonka Karasz.
…and we open with this comment by E.B. White, who along with critic Lewis Mumford had once voiced displeasure over the massive Rockefeller Center project. However, while viewing the floodlit tower by night, he decided that he would have to eat his words, observing how “the whole thing swims up tremendously into the blue roxyspheres of the sky”…
MEA CULPA…E.B. White gained a new perspective on Rockefeller Center, pictured here in December 1933. (Wikipedia)
…we continue with White, who also offered his thoughts on something heretofore unthinkable—a proposal to start putting beer in cans…
…it would happen about a year later…on Jan. 24, 1935, the Gottfried Krueger Brewing Company, in partnership with the American Can Company, delivered 2,000 cans of Krueger’s Finest Beer and Krueger’s Cream Ale to drinkers in Richmond, Virginia…
(seletyn.com)
…and despite White’s doubts, apparently ninety-one percent of the first drinkers of the product approved of the canned beer, although when Krueger’s launched their ad blitz they had to include instructions (and a new tool) to open the darn things…
(seletyn.com)
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Dreamscapes
Critic Lewis Mumford offered his thoughts on a recent exhibit by a young surrealist named Salvador Dali…
MIDDLEBROW SURREALIST…The Triangular Hour by Salvador Dali, 1933. (wikiart.org)
…and we move along to moving pictures, where John Mosher was showing some appreciation for Joan Crawford (1906–1977) in the pre-Code film Dancing Lady…
SHE HAD IT ALL…Audiences and critics alike were wowed by Joan Crawford’s performance in Dancing Lady, which featured a star-studded and eclectic cast. Clockwise from top left, Clark Gable plays a Broadway director who becomes Crawford’s love interest; Crawford displays her dancing talent in a Broadway rehearsal; Dancing Lady featured an early film appearance by The Three Stooges, pictured here with Gable and the Stooges’ leader at the time, Ted Healy; Crawford with Stooge Larry Fine—in the original film, Fine completes his jigsaw puzzle only to discover (to his disgust) that it’s a picture of Adolf Hitler. The Hitler scene was removed by the Production Code; its enforcers claimed it insulted a foreign head of state. (IMDB)
In addition to Crawford, the star-studded cast included Clark Gable, Fred Astaire (in his film debut), Franchot Tone (who was married to Crawford from 1935-39 and made seven movies with her), The Three Stooges, Nelson Eddy, and Robert Benchley, who played a reporter in the film.
Dancing Lady was the film debut of Astaire, making Crawford the first on-screen dance partner of the famed hoofer…
(IMDB)
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More From Our Advertisers
We begin with this full-page advertisement from Heinz, which went to great lengths and expense to make their ad appear to part of The New Yorker’s editorial content, even featuring a Perry Barlow cartoon of a boy making a mess with their product…
…another New Yorker contributor who occasionally went over to the advertising side was Alexander Woollcott, here shilling for Chrysler…
…Kayser, purveyor of women’s hosiery and underthings, was going for some humorous holiday cheer, but the effect is a bit unsettling…
…liquor-related ads began to proliferate with the end of the Prohibition…this one from Martini & Rossi…
…Continental Distilling was hoping to grab its share of gin sales with its Dixie Belle American gin…
…from the same folks who brought us Fleishmann’s yeast (and kept The New Yorker afloat in its early lean years) came this American dry gin…
…Ruppert’s Beer was back with another full-page color ad by Hans Flato…
…on to our cartoons, and Santa again, this time besieged by an aggressive tot as rendered by Helen Hokinson…
…Carl Rose found an unlikely customer at a newsstand…
…here is the last of four cartoons Walter Schmidt published in the New Yorker between 1931 and 1933…
…Peter Arno left his glamorous world of nightclubs and high society parties to look in on life at a boarding house…
…and we close with the delightful Barbara Shermund…
A New Yorker State of Mind 