A New Yorker State of Mind

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…

Time for a Facelift

It’s the dog days of summer, and the editors of The New Yorker are seeking various distractions to take their minds off of the broiling late season heat.

db2311e2a9fcb89fc253615846207b55 — August 21, 1926 cover by **H.O. Hofman.**

In the Aug. 21, 1926 issue (bearing an appropriate cover image by H.O. Hofman of bathers taking a refreshing dip), “The Talk of the Town” suggested that it was a good time for even the natives to take a boat tour of their beloved island:

enhanced-buzz-27796-1367872781-0 — Aerial view of Battery Park Wharf in the early 1920s (Buzzfeed)

In the following Aug. 28 issue, the “Talk” editors ducked out of the sun to visit the American Museum of Natural History.

b3166409b2ab1ea1369e857d009d9b30 — Aug. 28, 1926 cover by **H.O. Hofman**.

There they found curators busy reorganizing displays of dinosaurs and various stuffed beasts of the wild:

311585.tif — AMNH staff joining head to body of female elephant in Indian Elephant Group, 1926. (AMNH Digital Special Collections)

2007 METRO Project | ImageDigitizationSpecifications v1.0 | Epson Perfection V750 Pro — The end result of the 1926 reorganization of displays at the AMNH—children viewing Brontosaurus exhibit in 1927. (AMNH Digital Special Collections)

The magazine also profiled New York City native Gertrude Ederle, who became the first woman to swim across the English Channel in August of 1926:

Screen Shot 2016-02-09 at 12.16.16 PM — **Gertrude Ederle**, as rendered by **Peter Arno** for the “Profile.”

Even Janet Flanner, the magazine’s Paris correspondent, commented on the event, noting Europe’s jealous reaction to an American’s seizing of the record:

Ederle would return home to a ticker tape parade along the Canyon of Heroes in the Financial District, and would also be feted by 5,000 people who turned out on West 65th Street for a block party in her honor.

getrudeedlerlecrown — WHAT FOLKS DID BEFORE TELEVISION…Block party celebrates Gertrude Ederle as “Queen of the Waves.” (Ephemeral New York)

According to the excellent blog Ephemeral New York, Ederle received offers from Hollywood and Broadway and was deluged by marriage proposals. But she returned to a quiet life, moving to Queens and working as a swimming instructor for deaf children–Ederle’s hearing was seriously damaged in the water of the Channel, but otherwise swimming must have been good for her health. She died at age 98 in 2003.

Keeping with the summertime theme, the magazine covered the Gold Cup Regatta, complete with illustrations by Johan Bull:

An early Barbara Shermund cartoon, always a delight…

Lois Long took her “On and Off the Avenue” column to Paris, where she cast a jaded eye at the behavior of American buyers of French fashion:

chanel-LBD — **Coco Chanel’s** “Little Black Dress” debuted in 1926. (homeecologist.com)

And finally, from the advertising department, this strange ad from Ovington’s, which seemed to be more concerned with promoting racial stereotypes than in selling dinnerware:

Next Time: Come Fly With Me…

Talking Pictures

It was 1926 and another marvel of science—talking pictures—was unveiled to audiences at Broadway’s Warners’ Theatre. It was here that the Warner Brothers launched their ‘Vitaphone’ talkies including The Jazz Singer, which would premiere the following year.

Screen Shot 2016-01-28 at 4.34.57 PM — Aug. 14, 1926 cover by **Ilonka Karasz**.

The Vitaphone soundtrack was not printed on the film itself, but rather recorded separately on phonograph record, the sound synchronized by physically coupling the record turntable to the film projection motor.

VitaphoneDemo — A Vitaphone projection setup at a 1926 demonstration. Engineer **E. B. Craft** is holding a soundtrack disc. The turntable, on a massive tripod base, is at lower center. (University of San Diego History Department)

Don Juan was the first feature-length film to use the Vitaphone system, which was not a continuous soundtrack but rather a sprinkling of sound shorts (the musical score, performed by the New York Philharmonic, and various sound effects) throughout the film. No spoken dialogue was recorded.

First-nighters_posing_for_the_camera_outside_the_Warners'_Theater_before_the_premiere_of_%22Don_Juan%22_with_John_Barrymore,_-_NARA_-_535750 — First-nighters pose outside Warners’ Theatre before the premiere of *Don Juan*, August 6, 1926 (US National Archives)

Produced at a cost of $789,963 (the largest budget of any Warner film up to that point), the film was critically acclaimed and a box-office success. However, and predictably, The New Yorker was not so impressed with Vitaphone…

…or the acting of John Barrymore…

I have to agree with the critic, identified only as O.C., after viewing this TCM clip of the film on YouTube. Lacking a voice, silent actors had to exaggerate emotions onscreen, but Barrymore here is every bit the ham. This screen grab from the clip says it all:

The object of his gaze, Adriana della Varnese (played here by a young Mary Astor), reacts rather dramatically to his advances…can’t say I blame her…(however, the 44-year-old Barrymore and the 20-year-old Astor were having an affair at the time…)

Adriana della Varnese (played here by a young **Mary Astor**), reacts rather dramatically to Don Juan’s advances.

A couple of interesting ads in the Aug. 14, 1926 issue, including this one featuring a couple of sneaky gents who’ve found a solution to life in dry America…

…and this not-too-subtle message from a swanky shop on Fifth Avenue:

Next Time: Time for a Facelift…

The Lights of Broadway

Above: Samuel Herman Gottscho photograph, New York City, Times Square South from 46th Street. General view of “Whiteway” toward Times Building, December 9, 1930. Museum of the City of New York

The lights of Broadway dazzled the editors of “The Talk of Town,” who commented on the changing displays that brightened The Great White Way.

Screen Shot 2016-01-25 at 5.31.10 PM — Cover of August 7, 1926 issue by **Stanley W. Reynolds**.

Broadway hit its prime in the 1920s, when many old buildings originally used for housing or commercial interests became more valuable as places to hang brightly lit signs.

NYC-at-Night131-600x323 — Broadway in the 1920s (TimesSquareNYC.org)

The “Talk” editors were more or less impressed by the displays. Despite their garishness, the Broadway lights were also a symbol of the youthful exuberance of Roaring Twenties New York:

Samuel Herman Gottscho photo of Times Square from 41st Story [of the] Continental Building, at night, February 16, 1932. (Museum of the City of New York.)

tumblr_nw4uc5kmEh1ti90t5o1_500 — Daytime view of Times Square in the 1920s (Tumblr)

The “Talk” editors sang the praises of the “aortic” Grand Central Station, which they dubbed a place of both dignity and efficiency that sorts a “surprisingly cheerful stream” of travelers with a certain rhythm, set in motion by an impassive gateman:

The main concourse at Grand Central Terminal, 1929. (New York Transit Museum)

The Talk writers also added this lyrical observation of the traveling masses:

Talk also noted the recent travels of Cornelius Vanderbilt Jr., who was an apparent heir to the Vanderbilt fortune until he shunned high society and was disinherited by his parents for becoming a journalist and newspaper publisher. The Talk segment noted that Vanderbilt had returned from travels in Europe, where among other things until he rubbed elbows the Italian dictator Benito Mussolini and observed the curious habits of people under his fascist rule:

Italian Premier **Benito Mussolini** (before he started wearing the fascist uniform) leaving for Tripoli on May 13, 1926. His nose was bandaged after an assassination attempt on April 26 by a British woman, **Violet Gibson**, who shot him with a revolver at close range. She was ruled insane and deported to England (strangehistory.net))

Next Time: Talking Pictures…

A Castle in Air

Withering under a July heat wave, The New Yorker editors turned their thoughts to the cooling breezes that could be found blowing across the penthouse garden of real estate developer Robert M. Catts.

Screen Shot 2016-01-26 at 9.24.04 AM — The July 31, 1926 cover by **Victor Bobritsky** offered its own commentary on the heat wave that gripped the city.

The State Capitol Building, Lincoln, With people in street clothes asleep on the lawn during hot days of the 1930's, Picture July 25, 1936 — In case you were wondering, city folk (especially apartment dwellers) actually did sleep on the ground in the days before air conditioning. This photo was taken on July 25, 1936, on the lawn of the Nebraska State Capitol Building in Lincoln. (Nebraska State Historical Society).

Catts erected the 20-story Park-Lexington office building at 247 Park Avenue in 1922, topping the building with his own penthouse apartment. Located near Grand Central Station, the building was innovative in the way it was built directly over underground railroad tracks leading into the station. The editors of The New Yorker, however, were more impressed by what was on top:

CattsNYC50 — The “Chinese Library” in the apartment of **Robert M. Catts** atop the Park-Lexington Building. (halfpuddinghalfsauce.blogspot.com)

CattsNYC3 — Penthouse apartment of **Robert M. Catts** atop the Park-Lexington Building. (halfpuddinghalfsauce.blogspot.com)

It was the rooftop garden, however, that sent the editors into a swoon:

Before World War II the apartment would have other notable tenants who would succeed Catts, including the violinist Jascha Heifitz. The apartment, and the building beneath it, were demolished in 1963 along with the adjoining Grand Central Palace building, which was replaced in 1967 with 245 Park Avenue:

1024px-245parkNYC — 245 Park Avenue (Wikipedia)

In other news, Arthur Robinson wrote a somewhat sympathetic profile of Babe Ruth, observing that Ruth’s “thousand and one failings are more than offset by his sheer likableness.”

Screen Shot 2016-01-25 at 5.20.19 PM — Illustration for the “Profile” by **Johan Bull.**

Curiously, the Yankees were having a better year in 1926, but there was scant mention of baseball in the pages of The New Yorker, the magazine preferring to cover classier sports such as golf, polo, tennis and horse racing. Another sport of interest was yacht racing, with Eric Hatch covering the races at Larchmont augmented by Johan Bull’s illustrations:

The magazine continued to have fun with the androgynous fashion trends of the Roaring Twenties. This appears to be an early Barbara Shermund cartoon:

Next Time: The Lights of Broadway…

Blowing Smoke

The Roaring Twenties were an age when many social norms were challenged, including gender roles. Stars such as Marlene Dietrich wore men’s clothing, and many women went to work (women in the workplace increased by 25 percent) and they smoked in public.

Screen Shot 2016-01-15 at 5.49.44 PM — July 24, 1926 cover by **Ralph Jester**.

At first smoking in public was associated with the wild behavior of flappers, but thanks to American advertising know-how, things quickly changed. What helped spark that change was this controversial 1926 magazine and billboard advertisement:

154997-chesterfield2 — Now we call it “second-hand smoke” (History News Network)

Naturally, the editors of “The Talk of the Town” had something to say about all the fuss:

Give dubious credit to Chesterfield for cracking a barrier. And thanks to mass marketing, what was rare and shocking quickly became commonplace. Subsequent cigarette ads featured women who didn’t need a man to blow them any smoke; they were independent, successful and famous:

mass_marketing_9 — This is among the earliest cigarette ads to feature endorsements from famous women. In 1927, Lucky Strike began collecting testimonials from female celebrity smokers, ranging from movie stars to celebrities. In this 1928 ad, **Amelia Earhart** endorses Lucky Strike. (Stanford School of Medicine)

The editors of The New Yorker obviously loved cars and the advertising they attracted, so for the July 24 edition they dispatched a writer and an artist to the motor races at Atlantic City to record the momentous event. However, staff writer Eric Hatch seemed as interested in the attire of the drivers as in the race itself:

15923194155_601babf18c_b — According to *New Yorker* writer **Eric Hatch, Peter DePaolo** wore a white sweater and bow tie in the Atlantic City race. Here he is seen earlier that year following his victory at the Indianapolis 500. He was the first driver to complete the 500 miles in under five hours, and have an average speed of more than 100 mph. Since 1989, nine Indy races have finished in under three hours. In 2013 **Tony Kanaan’s** average speed exceeded 187 mph. (flickr/clamshack)

And then there were Dave Lewis’s breeches…

…and the wild stockings worn by the race’s starter, Fred Wagner:

Illustrator Johan Bull offered his own observation about Wagner’s stockings, among other things:

In a separate column in the magazine (simply titled “Motors”) Hatch marveled at the amazing new road to Jamaica (Queens) that featured four lanes, two in each direction, with drivers approaching breakneck speeds near 40 miles per hour:

As for speed, back then a basic car was a far cry from an Indy racer, and strained to do more than 45 mph. Luxury cars could go faster, but the quality of tires, brakes and roads were so poor that anyone exceeding 60 mph would likely blow a tire.

Next Time: A Castle in Air…

Good Old Summertime

8762fa732414047f1adc968dd860904b — July 17, 1926 cover by **Stanley W. Reynolds**.

The glories of summertime filled the pages of the July 17, 1926 issue. The cover featured a stylish young couple enjoying a romantic evening on a moonlit lake, while the inside pages were filled with all sorts of outdoor activities ranging from dining and dancing to open air concerts and golf, lots of it.

There was a lengthy profile by Herbert Reed on golfing great Bobby Jones, a mere boy of 24 who competed as an amateur but often beat top pros such as Walter Hagen and Gene Sarazen (in a few years Jones would help design the Augusta National Golf Club and co-found the Masters Tournament).

Screen Shot 2016-01-15 at 5.29.23 PM — Rending of **Bobby Jones** for the “Profile” by illustrator **Miguel Covarrubias**.

In “Sports of the Week,” Reed wrote about Jones’s second U.S. Open win, in Columbus, Ohio. Johan Bull offered this rendering of the runners-up:

Jones__Bobby___1_515b19833f0f9 — **Bobby Jones** at the 1926 U.S. Open (golfspast.com)

And with the warm weather the tops were open on automobiles for both the rich:

And the not-so-rich:

And finally, Lois Long, fed up with reviewing restaurants, fires off a column about the sad state of drinking in America:

Next Time: Blowing Smoke…

Tarnished Tinseltown

Screen Shot 2016-01-14 at 9.54.46 AM — July 10, 1926 cover by **Julian de Miskey**.

Although there are some good indie and foreign films being made these days, not to mention some decent stuff on cable and streaming services, we still have plenty of bland popcorn fare coming out of Hollywood that combines the worst of unscrupulous producers and their fawning writers and directors.

That’s how The New Yorker viewed Hollywood 90 years ago. Movie critic Theodore Shane weekly voiced his disappointment over American cinematic fare (while generally praising the work of European, and particularly German directors), and writer Morris Markey took the industry to task in the July 10, 1926 edition of the magazine, finding the whole lot of Hollywood to be a cesspool of mediocrity and dishonesty. It also didn’t help that Will H. Hays, president of the Motion Picture Producers, was trying to enforce his morality code on the motion picture industry:

Here’s the full illustration by Isadore Klein that was cut off above, because it’s worth a look:

Later in the article Markey laid into the men in charge of the studios:

Markey also leveled scorn at the media, and gullible audiences, for supporting this tawdry spectacle:

Screen Shot 2016-01-15 at 4.28.38 PM — Publicity still of Hollywood starlets **Dorothy Sebastian** (left) and **Joan Crawford** (on a Santa Monica beach) most likely used to promote the 1928 film *Our Dancing Daughters*. (BBC)

Motion Picture magazine and others of this ilk were the US magazines of the 1920s:

Valentino_Flohri-scan — **Rudolph Valentino** on the cover of the September 1926 issue of *Motion Picture* magazine. (archive.org)

And finally, a couple of bits for my “They Didn’t Know What Was Coming” department. Generally people were having too good of a time in the Roaring Twenties to take this fascism thing very seriously. From the section “Of All Things:”

And from “The Talk of the Town” section, a cartoon by W.P. Trent:

Next Time: The Good Old Summertime…

Wild & Woolly

Eugene Gise threw a beach party on the July 3, 1926 cover of The New Yorker with an explosion of color that was a departure from the somewhat spare covers of previous issues. It had been an unseasonably cool June, so folks were ready to frolic in the sun.

Screen Shot 2016-01-12 at 11.17.43 AM — July 3, 1926 cover by **Eugene Gise.**

It should be noted that the woman in the foreground basking in the sun is most likely wearing a wool bathing suit. Although Jantzen was making suits you could actually swim in, these wool numbers were still the norm. As the website Vintage Dancer notes, “functionality in swimwear was not as important as fashion, so the prevailing theory was that wool would help keep you warm.” Check out this newspaper advertisement from 1926:

1926-CW-3_Page_19-mens-swimsuit — (Vintage Dancer)

In the previous issue (June 26, 1926) theatre critic Charles Brackett looked at all the fuss over the opening of George White’s Scandals revue, so in this issue he gave the Ziegfeld Follies—the revue show that inspired the Scandals—its proper due.

20130923214629-2288ec2c-me — **Claire Luce** was a star attraction at the *Ziegfeld Follies*. Here **Clarence F. Busch** paints her portrait in an ostrich costume she wore for the *Follies* (Historical Ziegfeld Group)

Needless to say, Brackett found the Ziegfeld Follies as pointless as its imitator:

Moving on to other things, I found this tidbit in “The Talk of Town” interesting. Even 90 years ago city dwellers were complaining about having to sort their garbage:

A state-of-the-art garbage truck in 1920s NYC looked like this…

garbagenewtruck — (nyamcenterforhistory.org)

…and since the 1890s the city had employed street sweepers known as “White Wings” to keep things tidy, apparently even in the middle of traffic:

24-BOOK-articleLarge — (*The New York Times*)

After decades of petticoats, the Roaring Twenties marked the beginning of androgynous fashion in America, with actress Marlene Dietrich leading the way in defying standards of femininity. Cartoonist Raymond Thayer took a humorous look at the trend in the July 3 issue:

Next Time: A Tarnished Tinseltown…

Black Bottom & Other Scandals

The Roaring Twenties were all about fads and crazes, ranging from flagpole sitting to dances such as “The Shimmy,” “The Charleston,” or “The Black Bottom.” These dances were appropriated from Black culture, with many New Yorkers getting their first exposure in places such as Harlem’s famed Cotton Club.

Screen Shot 2016-01-08 at 1.35.03 PM — June 26, 1926 cover by **Julian de Miskey.**

The June 26, 1926 issue of The New Yorker was all abuzz over the Broadway debut of George White’s eighth annual Scandals. The Scandals were a long-running string of Broadway revues that ran from 1919-1939. Modelled after the Ziegfeld Follies, the Scandals launched the careers of many entertainers, including W.C. Fields, the Three Stooges, Rudy Vallée and Louise Brooks. Composer George Gershwin’s early work also appeared in the earliest editions of the show.

a257e06b8b87fdf0d0f851e9b7586642 — Actress **Louise Brooks** got her start in the *Scandals* and later the Ziegfeld Follies. Here she portrays the “Duchess of Sidebottom” in George White’s *Scandals* of 1924. By 1925 Brooks would have a movie contract with Paramount, and go on to become a popular star of the late silent era and gain fame as the iconic symbol of the flapper. (Flickr)

Like Florenz Ziegfeld, White must have been a master at marketing, since tickets for the Scandals opening sold for $55, which today would be the equivalent of about $725:

The editors of “The Talk of the Town” were a bit skeptical of all the hype:

The 1926 Scandals show featured “The Black Bottom,” danced by Ziegfeld Follies star Ann Pennington and Tom Patricola. In this dance-crazed era, “The Black Bottom” became a national phenomenon and even surpassed “The Charleston” in popularity.

It_illustrates_the_Black_Bottom_dance_and_features_Ann_Pennington,_George_White_and_Tom_Patricola,_all_of_whom_are_Wiki,_as_is_GEORGE_WHITE%22S_SCANDALS — **Tom Patricola** and **Ann Pennington** dance “The Black Bottom” in 1926 as *Scandals* producer George White looks on (Wikipedia)

Ann-Pennington-and-Felix2 — **Ann Pennington** “teaching” Felix the Cat how to dance “The Black Bottom.” Image scan from *Photoplay* magazine spread, January 1927.

“The Black Bottom” was popularized in New York by the 1924 Harlem stage show show Dinaah. Although the dance moves originated in New Orleans in the early 20th century, Jelly Roll Morton gave it a name when he wrote Black Bottom Stomp in 1925, referring to Detroit’s Black Bottom district.

In typical fashion, The New Yorker was less than impressed with the spectacle. In his theatre review column, Charles Brackett made this observation:

On to other things, “The Talk of the Town” also featured this curious note about George Custer’s widow, reminding us that 1926 was a very long time ago. Here are excerpts: