advertising – Page 35 – A New Yorker State of Mind

Those Jaunty Jalopies

The January 8, 1927 issue of the New Yorker was all over the 27th Annual Motor Show at the Grand Central Palace, both in its lengthy review of the show and the many automobile ads throughout its pages.

02a20a11df95c233092dc64bfc8f2b3c — January 8, 1927 (Issue # 99) cover by Ilonka Karasz.

Auto manufacturers discovered early on that cars didn’t need to advance technologically from year to year as long as there were superficial changes–trimmings and such–to dazzle the consumer:

Screen Shot 2016-06-02 at 3.29.13 PM — **Helen Hokinson** added this touch to the issue devoted to the auto show.

1927_Roadster_Model-90 — A 1927 Gardner Model 90 Roadster on display at the 27th Annual New York Motor Show at Grand Central Palace. (gardnermotorcars.com)

Advertisements in the New Yorker ranged from snobbish appeals to Francophiles…

…to those who might be concerned about safety. Although cars weren’t very fast, they were fast enough to kill, and their plentiful numbers often overwhelmed a city with rudimentary traffic control.

In his book, One Summer: America, 1927, Bill Bryson writes that New York in 1927 was the most congested city on earth. It contained more cars than the whole country of Germany, while at the same 50,000 horses (and wagons) still clogged the streets. More than a thousand people died in traffic accidents in the city in 1927, four times the number today.

slowupbrooklyn — THE DEATH-O-METER … was a 20-foot sign installed near Grand Army Plaza in 1927. It tallied traffic accidents and fatalities in the borough and reminded motorists to slow down at the traffic circle. (*Ephemeral New York*)

Traffic control was still in its infancy in the 1920s. Seven ornate bronze towers, 23 feet high, were placed at intersections along Fifth Avenue from 14th to 57th Streets starting in 1922. By 1927 smaller, simpler lights were mounted on street corners and the system of green, yellow and red was generally adopted.

491px-62646_253114161496208_2059581299_n_zpsf6a62b6c — Bronze traffic signal tower designed by **Joseph H. Freedlander** at 42nd Street and Fifth Avenue, 1922. (*stuffnobodycaresabout.com)*

Keeping with the motorcar theme, the issue also featured a profile (written by Lurton Blassingame) of Walter P. Chrysler, founder of the new car company that bore his name (Chrysler founded his company in June 1925 after acquiring and reorganizing the old Maxwell Motor Company). In just three years a famous New York City landmark bearing his name would pierce the skyline.

I recently noted that the fall 1926 editions of the New Yorker barely mentioned baseball, even though the Yankees made it to the World Series that year. No doubt the Black Sox scandal of 1919 still lingered in the minds of many fans. Morris Markey’s “Reporter at Large” column in the Jan. 8, 1927 issue suggested that the game, “no more important than the circus,” was still dishonest, thanks in part to its collusion with the newspapers:

Baseball might have been down and out, but actress Pola Negri still maintained her place in the spotlight with her latest film, Hotel Imperial.

zoom_1418768545_hotel_imperial@2x — Actress **Pola Negri** consults on a script with director **Mauritz Stiller** (left) on the set of *Hotel Imperial.* (MOMA)

Next Time: Bad Hootch…

The Last Impressionist

The death of artist Claude Monet prompted the editors of the New Yorker’s “Talk of the Town” to speculate on the true origins of the “Impressionist” movement of the late 19th century.

586fbe11df96b63350793a3341bc3dcf — December 18, 1926 cover by **Ottar Gaul**. Once again, the theme of the doddering sugar daddy out on the town with his young mistress.

Note how the “Talk” editors lightly regarded the artist’s late period, during which he painted his famous “Water Lilies” series:

The editors also used the occasion to clear up the confusion (in the lay mind) between Édouard Manet and Monet, identifying them not only as two distinct persons but also crediting the former with the founding of the Impressionism technique while giving Claude his due for actually giving it a name:

Claude_Monet,_Water_Lilies,_ca._1915-1926 — *Water Lilies*, a late period painting by **Claude Monet**, circa 1915-26. (Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art)

Monet_in_Garden,_New_York_Times,_1922 — Monet, right, in his garden at Giverny, 1922. (*New York Times*)

Another much younger notable of the age, Ernest Hemingway, was the talk of literary society on both sides of the Atlantic with the publication of his latest novel, The Sun Also Rises. According to the New Yorker’s Paris correspondent Janet “Genêt” Flanner, the novel was creating a buzz in Montparnasse over the origins of the book’s colorful characters:

Keeping in mind that the Christmas shopping season was still in full swing, Frigidaire thought it the perfect time for New Yorker readers to buy a newfangled electric refrigerator:

And we ring out the year with the final issue of 1926:

a891b86b245caf69b30eda2d09544bba — December 25, 1926 cover by **Rea Irvin.**

It was a tough year for New Yorker film critic “OC”, who summed up his disappointment with the movies by offering a Top Ten list that included only two films:

Variety_(1925_film) — The 1925 German film Variety (released in the U.S. in 1926) was one of only two films worth watching in 1926, according to the *New Yorker’s* film critic. (Wikipedia)

And to close, this cartoon by Helen Hokinson, which in the original magazine filled all of page 14 and therefore had to be printed sideways:

Next Time: 1927-A Year to Remember…

Holiday Shopping

Photo above via themindcircle.com

With Christmas fast approaching, The New Yorker was getting into the spirit of holidays, especially with all of the advertising revenue it gained from merchants who targeted its well-heeled readership.

8912823cfdc5626785b13a431ae590de — November 27, 1926—**Peter Arno’s** first cover for the *New Yorker.* He would do 98 more.

Lois Long continued to write both of her weekly columns for the magazine–her observations on fashion along with ideas for Christmas shoppers in “On and Off the Avenue” (“Saks’ toy department has some of the loveliest French notepaper for tiny children…”) and her musings on nightlife in “Tables for Two.”

In contrast to her rather light mood expressed in the fashion column, Long was feeling far from jolly in her “Tables” observations of New York’s nightlife:

As you might recall, in a previous column Long tossed a “ho-hum” in the direction of the famed Cotton Club. Perhaps Prohibition was taking its toll on the hard-partying columnist.

Nevertheless, the holiday spirit was upon with The New Yorker, in the cartoons (this one by Helen Hokinson)…

…and in various advertisements.

Note this advertisement (below) from Russeks. The comics in The New Yorker famously poked fun at the comic pairings of rich old men and their young mistresses, but this ad seemed to glorify such a pairing while suggesting that an older man of means must invest in fine furs if he is going to hang on to his trophy wife or mistress, in this case a young woman who appears to be nearly eight feet tall…

I liked this ad from Nat Lewis for the simple line drawing…

…but the ads for Elizabeth Arden, which for years featured this “Vienna Youth Mask” image, always creep me out.

The mask was made of papier-mâché lined with tinfoil. Although not pictured in the ad, it was also fitted to the client’s face. The Vienna Youth Mask used diathermy to warm up the facial tissues and stimulate blood circulation.

1937-arden-vienna — SLEEP TIGHT…The full “Youth Mask” applied to an Elizabeth Arden client in the mid 1930s. (cosmeticsandskin.com)

In a 1930 advertisement, Elizabeth Arden claimed that “The Vienna Youth Mask stimulates the circulation, producing health as Nature herself does, through a constantly renewed blood supply. The amazing value of this treatment lies in the depth to which it penetrates, causing the blood to flow in a rich purifying stream to underlying tissues and muscles…charging them with new youth and vigor. It stirs the circulation as no external friction or massage can possible do.”

I don’t believe this claim was backed up by medical research, but as we all know, Elizabeth Arden made a bundle from these treatments and the various creams and potions that came with it.

Next Time: Race Matters…

The Cotton Club & Other Distractions

Of all the nightclubs made famous in the Roaring Twenties, none were quite so famous as Harlem’s Cotton Club. Frequented by many celebrities, the club was a whites-only establishment even though it featured many of the most popular black entertainers of the day including Fletcher Henderson, Duke Ellington and Cab Calloway.

8a3e8956e7cf51e58975801865fdce55 — November 13, 1926, Issue # 91, cover by **Julian de Miskey**.

So leave it to The New Yorker, and specifically its nightlife correspondent, Lois Long, to take a blasé view of the famed hot spot. Perhaps she was just tired, having already visited three other nightclubs that evening—the Montmartre, the Yacht Club, and Connie’s Inn—before seeking out the Cotton Club:

Screen Shot 2016-04-14 at 6.49.42 PM — Performers on stage at Connie’s Inn, Harlem, 1920s. (New York Public Library)

Duke-Ellington-band-Cotton-Club-NYC-New-York-Untapped-Cities — **Duke Ellington** and dancers at the Cotton Club in the late 1920s. (Untapped-Cities)

dadanycottonclubflyer — Program from the 1920s designed to attract white patrons to the Cotton Club. (Women of the Harlem Renaissance)

* * *

“The Talk of the Town” noted the passing of rodeo star and sharp-shooter Annie Oakley (next time you get a free ticket with a hole punched in it, you’ll know what to call it):

If nightclubs weren’t your thing, there were plenty of movie houses screening the latest offerings from Tinseltown. The opening pages of the magazine featured this advertisement for the new 3,664-seat Paramount Theatre, located at 43rd Street and Broadway in the Times Square.

It’s a reminder that Paramount, a venerable old Hollywood studio (which these days is owned by Viacom) had its origins in New York as the Famous Players-Lasky Corporation. Founded in 1916, Famous Players-Lasky was primarily located at the Kaufman Astoria Studios in Queens (after 1920). It would eventually become Paramount Pictures and relocate to Hollywood in 1932.

The Paramount Theatre was closed in 1964. Sadly, the interior was gutted and converted to office and retail use. Here are a couple of interior shots of the theatre’s Grand Hall as it appeared following its opening:

NY-NYC-MAN-Paramount-CAPC-M0326 — NOT YOUR LOCAL CINEPLEX…Grand Hall of the Paramount Theatre, featuring imported Italian marble columns. (American Theatre Architecture Archive)

The theatre’s huge pipe organ, one of the largest and most admired theatre organs ever built by the Wurlitzer company, was removed and later installed in a convention hall in Wichita, Kansas.

ParamountThCon — Keyboard array of the Paramount Theatre’s huge pipe organ, one of the largest theatre organs ever built by the Wurlitzer company. (nycago)

Paramount would open theatres around the country (in the chain of Publix Theatres), and a number of them survive today. The original Paramount Building in New York is still there, but all that’s left of the theatre is the marquee.

The marquee in 1927:

Copy of New York's Paramount Theater - 1930s — (nyc.gov)

And today:

Next Time: The Sporting Life…

Fun With Harold

The Nov. 6, 1926 issue of The New Yorker was actually two issues, one for the newsstands and subscribers and the other a rare parody issue privately published and presented to founding editor Harold Ross on his 34th birthday.

Screen Shot 2016-04-01 at 3.03.49 PM — The cover of the “official” issue (left) for November 6, 1926, was illustrated by **William Troy**, the parody issue by **Rea Irvin.**

The parody issue’s cover featured a silhouette of Ross (drawn by Rea Irvin, as “Penaninsky”) in the pose of dandy Eustace Tilley, looking at a spider bearing a strong resemblance to Alexander Woollcott, critic and commentator for The New Yorker who first met Ross overseas when the two worked on the fledgling Stars and Stripes newspaper.

Screen Shot 2016-04-07 at 3.16.19 PM — OLD PALS…**Alexander Woollcott** and **Harold Ross.** *(Britannica; Jane Grant Collection, University of Oregon)*

Ralph Barton’s contribution to the parody issue…

Screen Shot 2016-04-07 at 2.44.38 PM — *(From About Town: The New Yorker and the World It Made, By Ben Yagoda)*

…and an unsigned contribution that took a poke at Ross’s efforts to create efficient procedures at the magazine’s office:

Screen Shot 2016-04-07 at 3.32.46 PM — *Excerpt from Defining New Yorker Humor, by Judith Yaross Lee*

In the other Nov. 6 issue, “The Talk of the Town” editors commented on the death of the famed magician Harry Houdini:

ONE OF HIS FINAL ACTS…**Harry Houdini** appearing before a Senate committee to expose fake spiritualists in February 1926. (wildabouthoudini.com)

“Talk” also noted a new book called Elmer Gantry was being penned by Sinclair Lewis:

The book was a biting satire of the hypocrisy of fanatical preachers during the 1920s. It created a public furor when it was published in 1927. Another “Talk” item mocked the taste of wealthy New Yorkers for the latest exotic gadgets…

…but the same issue was also filled with the usual advertisements appealing to those very same desires of the Smart Set. Here’s a couple of gems, so to speak…

Next Time: The Cotton Club & Other Distractions…

A Changing Sky Line

Although architectural criticism was practiced by a rare few in 1926 (and even fewer today), it was prominent in the pages of The New Yorker. Lewis Mumford famously served as the magazine’s critic from the 1930s to the 1950s, and longtime critic Paul Goldberger took over the magazine’s “Sky Line” column from the mid-90s to 2011.

c37832e544c79a83494d91ea68c0329b — October 16, 1926 cover by **Constantin Alajalov**.

In 1926 George S. Chappell served the magazine as architecture critic under the pseudonym “T-Square.” A rare combination of architect, parodist, and journalist, he was perhaps best known for his travel series parody published under the pseudonym “Walter E. Traprock.”

In the Oct. 16, 1926 issue, Chappell took critical aim at the “cheap architecture” sprouting amidst the clamor of a rapidly changing landscape…

…and referred to the fenestration (the arrangement of windows and doors) of the Murray Hill Building as “atrocious.”

MNY329523 — The Murray Hill Building. (Museum of the City of New York)

01_big — The ground-floor show windows of Murray Hill feature free-hand carvings depicting people in various trades. (Wikimapia)

Chappell then set his sights on “another disappointment,” the Delmonico Building, which he said possessed “the grace of an overgrown grain elevator…”

Screenshot 2015-05-18 13.19.10 — Part of Chappell’s disgust is no doubt attributable to the fact that the beloved old Delmonico Building at Fifth Avenue and 44th Street (left, photo from The Brickbuilder, 1899), was razed in 1925 and replaced by the “overgrown grain elevator” at right. (Google Maps screen image)

He then moves on to the landmark French Building with its “dreary factory windows”…

Fred_French_building_entrance — The 5th Avenue entrance to the French Building. (omnidisc)

So what did Chappell prefer? Read on…

aeoliean 1-13-1927 — Aeolian Hall on Fifth Avenue, constructed on a site formerly occupied by the William Rockefeller mansion. (Museum of the City of New York)

P2810035 — Detail of the upper stories of Aeolian Hall. (Daytonian in Manhattan)

20512108023_f7771faf39_b — Cartier’s clock on Fifth Avenue (Pinterest)

Despite Chappell’s oft disapproving gaze, in the end he (along with other editors and writers at The New Yorker) could not help but be caught up in the thrill of one of the city’s grandest building booms…

Other items of note in the Oct. 16 issue, this ad promoting the first-ever “New Yorker book,” a collection of “Profiles” by Waldo Frank, who wrote under the pen name “Search-light”…

And finally this picturesque ad for Marmon automobiles. The company was defunct by 1933.

Next time: A Royal Flush…

Fight Night in Philly

We skip ahead to the Oct. 2, 1926 issue to look at one of the big events of that year–the Dempsey-Tunney heavyweight prize fight (I’m not skipping issues…Sept. 25 appears later in this blog).

652f917918402a71eb86f6671c9f228a — Oct. 2, 1926 – Issue # 85 – Cover by **Constantin Alajalov**. (Once again, note the ongoing comic reference to androgyny in 20’s fashion)

Heavyweight boxing was a big part of the American sports scene in the 1920s, and two giants of the sport, Jack Dempsey and Gene Tunney, dominated the headlines in the late 1920s thanks to much-heralded bouts in Philadelphia in 1926 and a rematch in Chicago the following year (which would include the famous “long count” incident).

Screen Shot 2016-02-26 at 12.30.40 PM — An estimated 135,000 fans packed Sesquicentennial Stadium in Philadelphia for the Dempsey-Tunney bout. (NYTimes)

The New Yorker joined in on the hoopla, publishing a lengthy account of the match by Waldo Frank (aka “Search-light”), who trained his jaded eye on the whole affair:

MediaStream.ashx — VIEW FROM THE CHEAP SEATS…a rain-soaked throng at the Dempsey-Tunney fight in Philadelphia. (City of Philadelphia)

According to the New York Times, the crowd included such notables as Charlie Chaplin, cowboy movie star Tom Mix and the English Channel swimmer Gertrude Ederle.

Screen Shot 2016-02-26 at 12.13.08 PM — Coverage of Tunney’s victory by unanimous decision took up three-quarters of the front page of *The New York Times,* and also filled most of pages 2 through 7. (*The New York Times*)

But in typical fashion, Waldo was less than dazzled, finding the rain an apt metaphor for a spectacle mostly unseen by those in attendance:

Never one to wallow in tragedy, the magazine made a brief (and oddly droll) reference in “The Talk of the Town” to a hurricane that hit Miami and its environs (it killed 372 people and injured more than 6,000):

Other items of note in the issue included this examination of country vs. city life by cartoonist Barbara Shermund…

…and this cartoon by Al Frueh commenting on the challenges of Manhattan’s rapidly changing cityscape:

The changing city was also on the mind of Reginald Marsh in this illustration he contributed to the Sept. 25, 1926 issue of the magazine:

Back to the Sept. 25 issue, which featured an update from Paris correspondent Janet Flanner…

d9f3d5507a7bade4fc28276d12a63260 — Sept. 25, 1926 – Issue # 84 – Cover by **Constantin Alajalov**.

…who commented on the large number of American tourists crowding the city just as the locals were fleeing for their long, late summer holidays:

She offered some numbers to back up her observations:

3333095832_f6a6fd78cb_o — Janet “Genêt” Flanner (right) and longtime companion **Solita Solano** (center) in Paris, 1921. Solano was a well-known writer and drama critic for the *New York Tribune. (Vintage Everyday)*

And finally, a cartoon by Rea Irvin exploring the trials of the idle rich:

Next Time: Do Gentlemen Prefer Blondes?

On the Air

As much as they affected a refined disinterest in the latest fads, The New Yorker editors were nevertheless impressed by the many electronic innovations in the 1920s consumer market. Although electricity in cities had been around for awhile, inventions to exploit this new resource would come into their own in the Jazz Age with the advent of mass-produced electrical appliances (refrigerators, toasters etc.).

9d9134fa5d5971983bdff56839082757 — Sept. 18, 1926 cover by **Stanley W. Reynolds.**

So when the 1926 Radio World’s Fair opened at Madison Square Garden, the magazine was there to report on its many marvels in the Sept. 18 issue:

1920s-radio — IF ONLY THEY HAD SPOTIFY…Teens tuning in, mid 1920s. (hancockhistoricalmuseum.org)

Although New York’s radio fair was doubtless the largest (akin to today’s annual Consumer Electronics Show), similar fairs were held in other major cities where broadcast radio was taking hold.

tumblr_m1upqvc8Eb1rq0v7oo1_500 — Promotional image for Edison Radio from the 1926 New York Radio World’s Fair. (artdecoblog.com)

…and for comparison, an image from the 2016 Consumer Electronics Show in Las Vegas:

To give you an idea of some of the stranger innovations in the world of 1920s radio, here is an image scanned from the Oct. 16, 1926 issue of Radio World magazine demonstrating the wonders of a wearable cage antenna, apparently through which the wearer could make or receive wireless broadcasts…

…and a detail of an advertisement from the same issue depicting a typical household radio for the time:

Screen Shot 2016-02-22 at 9.45.24 AM — Before tuning in for the first time, the radio’s owner needed to string a 100-foot outside aerial. Until 1927, when owners could plug their radios into electric sockets, radios required two types of batteries—a storage battery that required recharging every two weeks and a set of dry-cell batteries that needed to be replaced about every three weeks.

If all this looks crude, remember that in September 1926 broadcast radio was less than six years old. But it was big year for radio, with the National Broadcasting Company (NBC) establishing a network of stations that distributed daily programs. Columbia Broadcasting System (CBS) would establish a rival network in 1928.

In other items, the magazine offered a lengthy profile on tennis legend Bill Tilden, and later in the sports section described his Davis Cup loss to Frenchman René Lacoste.

lacoste-france-etats-unis_360 — Tennis rivals **Bill Tilden** and **René Lacoste** meet in Philadelphia, 1927. (greensleevestoaground.)

Tilden is often considered one of the greatest tennis players of all time. However, The New Yorker “Profile” described him as a reluctant star with artistic ambitions…

…who distained the life of a sports hero…

Screen Shot 2016-02-19 at 12.35.08 PM — Samuel Merwin, referred to above, was a playwright and novelist.

Tilden was the world’s number one player for six years (1920-1925). He won 14 Major singles titles including ten Grand Slams. He also won a record seven US Open titles.

There is a sad footnote to Tilden’s career, however. Twenty years after The New Yorker profile, Tilden would be arrested for soliciting sex from an underage male, an offense he would arrested for again three years later, in 1949. He was subsequently shunned by the tennis and Hollywood world, although old friend Charlie Chaplin allowed Tilden to use his private court for lessons, which helped him financially as he dealt with legal and financial problems.

* * *

Going Going Gone

The magazine editors continued to watch the rapidly changing skyline of the city, as beloved old buildings were demolished to make way for new skyscrapers. This time it was the old Park Avenue Hotel:

The editors of “Talk of the Town” fondly recalled the time when the hotel, with its spacious courtyard of flowers and fountains, attracted “almost every dinner party of consequence in New York.”

parkavenuesouth1890 — This photo of the old Park Avenue Hotel was taken in 1890, only two years after Fourth Avenue was renamed Park Avenue. Constructed in 1877, the hotel was originally called Stewart’s Hotel for Working Women, designed to provide safe housing for the influx of single working women pouring into New York City. The name didn’t last long: the hotel was opened in April 1878, closed in May and reopened in June as the Park Avenue Hotel. It was razed in 1927. (Ephemeral New York)

The same site today:

parkavenuesouth2012 — (Ephemeral New York)

The nearby Murray Hill Hotel mentioned in the article would last another 20 years, falling to the wrecking ball in 1947:

$(KGrHqZ,!jgE7jIy3h0zBO+884Q5Mw~~60_57 — The Murray Hill Hotel, built in 1884, would outlive the Park Avenue Hotel by 20 years, falling to a wrecking ball in 1947. (Library of Congress)

Next Time: Fight Night in Philly…

Battleship Potemkin

American cinema did little to excite the writers or critics of The New Yorker, who considered European films, and particularly German ones, to be far superior to the glitzy and sentimental fare produced in Hollywood.

c294d1a8fc43b2b1097b9686637a1c6f — Sept. 11, 1926 cover by Eugene Gise.

So when it was announced that Russian/Soviet filmmaker Sergei Eisenstein would be releasing Battleship Potemkin in New York City, the magazine’s editors in “The Talk of the Town” expressed both anticipation for the masterpiece as well as worries that American censors would slice the film to bits or even ban it outright.

The magazine’s film critic “OC” also expressed his concerns regarding censors:

the-battleship-potemkin-2 — IT’S NOT WHAT’S FOR DINNER…Sailors examine maggot-infested meat in the film *Battleship Potemkin. (themoviesnob)*

The film was based on an historical event–a mutiny on the battleship Potemkin that occurred after the crew was served rotten meat for dinner. The sailors rebelled, seized the ship, and then attempted to ignite a revolution in their home port of Odessa, which in turn led to a massacre of citizens by Cossack soldiers on the city’s famed Potemkin Stairs.

OB-LS523_potemk_G_20110110122410 — Mutineers revel in a scene from *Battleship Potemkin. (Wall Street Journal)*

94572-004-3C44F252 — A still from a classic scene in *Battleship Potemkin* that depicts Odessa citizens being massacred by Cossacks on the city’s famous Potemkin Stairs. The image of the unattended baby carriage tumbling down the staircase has been re-created in a number of films, including Brian De Palma’s 1987 *The Untouchables.* (Film 4)

The film would ultimately be released in December of 1926. Perhaps more on that in a later post.

The Sept. 11, 1926 issue also noted the passing of famed silent film star Rudolph Valentino, who died at age 31 of peritonitis and other complications. The “Talk” editors suggested that if anything, it was good for newspaper sales:

Rudolph_Valentino_funeral_2_1926 — FUNERAL FUN…**Rudolph Valentino’s** first funeral in New York (the second was in Beverly Hills) drew a huge crowd of in what was described as a “carnival setting”. More than 100,000 fans filed past his open casket at the Frank E. Campbell funeral home. Windows were smashed as fans tried to get in and an all-day riot erupted on August 24. More than a hundred mounted officers and NYPD’s Police Reserve were deployed to restore order. A phalanx of officers would line the streets for the remainder of the viewing. Some media reports claimed the body on display was a wax dummy, and not “The Sheik” himself. (Wikipedia)

Screen Shot 2016-02-17 at 10.36.41 AM — SWEETHEARTS? **Rudolph Valentino** and **Pola Negri** met in early 1926 at a costume party thrown by **Marion Davies**. Negri claimed she was engaged to be married to the actor at the time of his death. (Wikimedia Commons)

Screen Shot 2016-02-17 at 10.35.37 AM — DIVA MOMENT…**Pola Negri’s** grief-stricken performance at Valentino’s New York funeral was considered by most to be over-the-top, even for a famous diva. Supported by a secretary and press agent (photo above), Pola declared to reporters that she and Valentino were secretly engaged to be married. She posed in dramatic fashion for the reporters and then threw herself, weeping and fainting, on Valentino’s open casket. (flickchick1953)

On the lighter side, The New Yorker men’s fashion columnist “Bowler” offered this observation of a new style suggested by Harpo Marx:

And to close, a couple of advertisements from the Sept. 11 issue…the first is a McCreery & Company ad illustrated by Gluyas Williams. These would become a series, featuring a milquetoast husband facing the daunting task of shopping for his wife, among other challenges…

…and this ad from Park Central Motors, depicting a child who’s all too aware of her standing in society…

Next Time: On the Airwaves…

Come Fly With Me

Since most of us complain about the sad state of air travel these days, it’s nice to get a little historical perspective on this mode of transportation.

60050ce935d82b28520c52109cd715ce — Sept. 4, 1926 cover by **Rea Irvin**.

Ninety years ago the editors of The New Yorker were enamored with passenger air service, even though it was only available to those who were wealthy and had the stomach to actually fly in one of these things:

3987535508_ecfa3ffa6a_b — The May 8, 1925 christening of the Sikorsky “Yorktown.” The “huge” plane is referred to in the Sept. 4, 1926 “Talk of the Town.” (Library of Congress)

In the “Talk of the Town” section, The New Yorker editors marveled at the regular air taxi service available to Manhattanites:

The “huge” Yorktown might look crude to a traveler in 2016, but this was advanced stuff considering the Wright Brothers had made their first flight less than 23 years earlier. Planes like the Yorktown looked less like aircraft we know today and more like a trolley car with wings attached. And that window in the front wasn’t for the pilot. He sat up top in the open air:

5919269221_8df4563424_b — Side view of the Sikorsky “Yorktown.” Note the pilot seated aft of the wings. (Flickr)

But then again, the interiors of these planes were no picnic, either. Imagine sitting in this while crashing through a storm:

HighFlight-Goliath4 — Interior of a Farman Goliath, which would have been similar to the Sikorsky, if not a little nicer. (Historic Wings)

onzaslyyjim7xrzditoc — Another photo of a 1920s passenger flight. As in the preceding photo, note the wicker chairs. And no leg room. These fellows appear to awaiting the showing of an early in-flight movie. At least movies were silent then, because with giant piston engines flanking the cabin you weren’t going hear anything anyway. (Paleofuture)

Other items from the Sept. 4, 1926 “Talk” section included a bit about the former president and then Supreme Court Justice William Howard Taft, and his rather ordinary life in Murray Bay. An excerpt:

1268484_600 — Ex-President, Supreme Court Justice and avid golfer William Howard Taft follows through on the links in this undated photo (jmarkpowell.com)

At the movies, The New Yorker gave a lukewarm review of the much-ballyhooed film Beau Geste:

Mary-Brian-with-Neil-Hamilton-in-Beau-Geste-1926 — AT LEAST SHE HAD A NICE COMPLEXION…**Mary Brian** (dubbed “The Sweetest Girl in Pictures”) with Neil Hamilton in *Beau Geste,* 1926 (classiccinemaimages)

And although Gloria Swanson was one of the biggest stars in the Silent Era, The New Yorker was never a big fan of her films:

MV5BMTk2ODkxOTcxMl5BMl5BanBnXkFtZTYwMjcxMTU2._V1_SX640_SY720_ — **Gloria Swanson** in *Fine Manners,* 1926 (IMDB)

And finally, this advertisement from Houbigant, featuring a drawing of an elegant woman with an impossibly long neck. I wouldn’t want her sitting in front of me at the movies…

Another ad (from the Sept. 11 issue) also depicted this ridiculously giraffe-like neckline:

Next Time…Battleship Potemkin…