The Cowboy Philosopher

William Penn Adair Rogers, aka Will Rogers (1879–1935), was a man of many talents. Today he is mostly referred to as a humorist, but he was also an actor, a social and political commentator, a trick roper and a vaudeville performer. To Americans he was a national icon.

April 13, 1935 cover by Barney Tobey.

Rogers was also internationally famous, having traveled around the world three times and appearing in 71 films (50 of those silent). He also wrote more than 4,000 newspaper columns—nationally syndicated by The New York Times—that reached 40 million readers, and there were also magazine articles, radio broadcasts and personal appearances. He seemed to be everywhere.

ROPING THEM IN…In 1902, Will Rogers joined Texas Jack’s Wild West Show & Circus in South Africa as the “Cherokee Kid”—he was born as a citizen of the Cherokee Nation, in the Indian Territory that is now part of Oklahoma. By 1910, he had created a sensational vaudeville act by mixing trick roping with witty monologues. Clockwise, from top left, Rogers in a publicity photo from 1916, the year he joined the Ziegfeld Follies; on stage with the Follies in 1924; poster from his circus days; backstage with the 1924 Follies cast. (National Portrait Gallery)
MULTIMEDIA MULTI-TALENT…Left, Rogers catches a few moments to write one of his 4,000 nationally syndicated newspaper columns; from 1929 to 1935 he used the exciting new medium of radio to broadcast his newspaper pieces. His weekly Sunday evening show, The Gulf Headliners, sponsored by Gulf Oil, ranked among the top radio programs in the country. (National Portrait Gallery)

When John Mosher reviewed Rogers’ latest film, Life Begins At Forty, he found it to be one of Rogers’ best. It would also prove to be one of his last. On August 15, 1935, a small airplane carrying Rogers and aviator Wiley Post would crash on takeoff near Point Barrow, Alaska, claiming the lives of both men. Rogers would appear in three more films in 1935, the last two posthumously.

THAT’S LIFE…Will Rogers with Richard Cromwell and Rochelle Hudson in Life Begins at 40. Rogers’ film took its title from a 1932 self-help book by Walter B. Pitkin. Pitkin maintained that keeping a positive attitude toward life could give a person many fulfilling years after age 40. By the time of his death in 1935, the 55-year-old Rogers was Hollywood’s highest paid actor. (Wikipedia/IMDB)

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Not Toying Around

“The Talk of the Town” looked in on the serious business of toymakers, with 1935 being the year of streamlined tricycles, Buck Rogers disintegrator pistols, and, of course, Shirley Temple dolls.

RIVALED ONLY BY MICKEY MOUSE, Shirley Temple was the most popular celebrity to endorse merchandise for children and adults, including the “one and only” Shirley Temple Doll (left, ad from 1935); the Buck Rogers XZ-38 Disintegrator Pistol (top) was produced in 1935 by Daisy, and was available in both copper and nickel finishes–it was also offered as a premium from Cream of Wheat cereal; at bottom, the American National Streamline Velocipede Tricycle (1935), just one example of the hundreds of products receiving the streamlining treatment in the 1930s. (flickr/airandspace.si.edu/onlinebicyclemuseum.co.uk)

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Literary Spirits

E.B. White welcomed the return of literary tea party, which thanks to the repeal of the 18th Amendment had been re-dubbed the “literary cocktail party.” He shared his thoughts in “Notes and Comment”…

AMUSING MUSES…Actress, writer and socialite Peggy Hopkins Joyce hosted literary “teas” in the 1920s, while former Cosmopolitan editor Ray Long inspired a book on adventures in the South Seas shortly before his death; from left, Joyce in 1923; photogravure of Long, 1925. (Wikipedia/photogravure.com)

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Proto Feminist

Emily Hahn was one of the more lively figures in The New Yorker’s stable of journalists and writers, leading an adventurous life that included a hike across Central Africa in the 1930s and getting into all kinds of trouble during the Japanese invasion of China. According to Roger Angell, Hahn was, “in truth, something rare: a woman deeply, almost domestically, at home in the world. Driven by curiosity and energy, she went there and did that, and then wrote about it without fuss.” It is no surprise that Hahn’s latest novel, Affair, didn’t shy away from topics like abortion. According to reviewer Clifton Fadiman, the novel’s “anonymous grayness” exposed the banality of love in the twentieth century.

If Hollywood is looking for a new biopic, Hahn would make a fascinating subject (Kristen Stewart would be perfect for the part). According to IMDB, there is an “Untitled Emily ‘Mickey’ Hahn Project”—a TV series—that has been in development since 2022, but so far nothing has come of it.

DOWN ON LOVE?…Emily Hahn’s 1935 novel Affair exposed the banality of love in the twentieth century. (abebooks.com/susanbkason.com)

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From Our Advertisers

We begin with this advertisement from Goodyear, featuring what appears to be a father teaching his daughter how to drive, or in this case, fly, just like Chitty Chitty Bang Bang…

…and we stay airborne with the makers of the streamlined Nash, who claimed their automobile had “flying power”…

…and we return to earth with Cadillac’s budget model, the LaSalle, which featured “flashing performance”…

…by contrast, Pierce Arrow took a minimalist approach, gimmicks and splashy colors being reserved for the lower orders…

…one of the world’s most iconic ocean liners took to the sea with much fanfare in 1935. The SS Normandie was the largest and fastest passenger ship afloat; it remains the most powerful steam turbo-electric-propelled passenger ship ever built…

…if you happened to smoke Webster cigars, it could have been a sign that you were favored by the heavens…

…the “20-year rule” in fashion suggests that trends have a tendency to re-emerge every two decades, and that seems to be the case here…

…this next ad tells us everything we need to know about the Stetson wearer: he is a wealthy country gentleman who values tradition but who is also a man of the future…from the 1920s to midcentury the autogyro was thought to be the answer to the long-dreamed of flying car…

…whoever coined the term “night cap” probably wasn’t thinking about cold cereal…

…although Harold Ross’s old high school friend, John Held Jr., contributed many woodcut-style cartoons and faux maps to The New Yorker from 1925 to 1932, Held was more famous for his shingle-bobbed flappers and their slick-haired boyfriends in puffy pants, a style more apparent in this ad for Peychaud’s Bitters (the original was a one-column ad, split here for clarity)…

…Held provides a segue to our illustrators and cartoonists, beginning with a sampling of spot art from the April 13 issue…

James Thurber got things going on page 2…

…and also contributed this observation of the hypnotic arts…

Otto Soglow did some careful surveying (this originally appeared across two pages)…

Alain looked in on some Vatican gossip…

Richard Decker pitched a Shirley Temple murder caper…

Carl Rose gave us a sweet send-off…

…and we close out with a big bang, courtesy of Alan Dunn

Next Time: Terse Verse…

 

 

Keep Calm and Carry On

If you lived in Germany in 1935, or in Italy or Spain for that matter, the world would have looked very different from the one most Americans were experiencing, clawing their way out of the Great Depression and hoping to improve their domestic lives. War was not big on their worry list.

April 6, 1935 cover by Leonard Dove.

In his “Notes and Comment,” E.B. White satirized the talk about war that was filling more column inches in the nation’s newspapers. He was particularly scornful of journalists such as Arthur Brisbane—the influential editor of William Randolph Hearst’s media empire—who was fond of giant headlines warning of impending war.

TEND YOUR OWN GARDEN...E.B. White in 1946. (Britannica)

White wasn’t naive about the possibilities of war; however, he believed obsessing about things over which we have little control did little to help the human condition. Helping one’s neighbor, on the other hand, would do the world more good. In 1939, just six months before Germany invaded Poland, White wrote a piece titled “Education” for his Harper’s Magazine column, One Man’s Meat. This excerpt helps define his worldview:

“I find that keeping abreast of my neighbors’ affairs has increased, not diminished, my human sympathies…in New York I rise and scan Europe in the Times; in the country I get up and look at the thermometer—a thoroughly set-contained point of view which, if it could infect everybody everywhere, would I am sure be the most salutary thing that could happen to the world.”

With that, here is a selection from the April 6 “Notes and Comment”…

TANKS A LOT…Clockwise, from top left, German war production in the 1930s—by increasing the size of the army by 500,000 and establishing the Luftwaffe in early 1935, Germany broke international law and the Treaty of Versailles; the 1935 Anglo-German Naval Agreement was the first sign of British and European appeasement—photo shows the launch of the Admiral Graf Spee; a display of force at Nuremberg, mid 1930s; cartoon by Bernard Partridge from Punch (September 1932) foresaw the inevitable. (parisology.net/theholocaustexplained.org/Punch Limited)

In March 1973, a “Mr. Nadeau” wrote a letter to E. B. White expressing fears about humanity’s bleak future. Here are the first and last lines of White’s reply:

As long as there is one upright man, as long as there is one compassionate woman, the contagion may spread and the scene is not desolate. Hope is the thing that is left to us, in a bad time. I shall get up Sunday morning and wind the clock, as a contribution to order and steadfastness…Hang on to your hat. Hang on to your hope. And wind the clock, for tomorrow is another day.

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Another Viewpoint

Ever the observer of the passing scene, Howard Brubaker made these relevant observations in “Of All Things”…

…and back to White’s “Notes,” and the imminent passing of the beloved organ grinder…

THE OLD GRIND…Above, one of New York City’s last organ grinders in Washington Heights, ca. 1935. Organ grinders had been fixtures in Manhattan since the 1850s, and by 1880 roughly five percent of Italian men living in Five Points were organ grinders, often accompanied by monkeys who entertained and collected coins. Organ grinders were outlawed in 1936 by Mayor Fiorello La Guardia. It is thought the mayor disliked the Italian immigrant stereotype. (Library of Congress)

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Give Him More Mickey Mouse

John Mosher expressed his displeasure with movies that failed to deliver some escape from life’s mundane realities or offered little more than tepid storylines.

IN SEARCH OF A CREDIBLE PLOT…Critic John Mosher found Claudette Colbert (top left) both unbelievable and unqualified to be a psychiatrist in Private Worlds; at top right, Joan Blondell and Glenda Farrell offered some mindless distractions in Traveling Saleslady (from 1933 to 1936 Blondell and Farrell appeared together in seven films); bottom, Mosher called The Woman in Red an “anemic” tale. Barbara Stanwyck seems to be wondering why she took the part. (rottentomatoes.com/TCM)

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Odds and Ends

Also in the issue, John O’Hara kicked off the short fiction with “I Could Have Had A Yacht,” Margaret Case Harriman penned a profile of Elizabeth Arden (of cosmetics empire fame), and theatre critic Wolcott Gibbs enjoyed the “bitterly effective performances” in Clifford Odets’ Waiting For Lefty, which was being produced at the Longacre Theatre.

ENOUGH IS ENOUGH...Elia Kazan led the cast in the original production of Clifford Odets’ iconic 1935 play Waiting for Lefty. Centered around a taxi drivers’ strike, Lefty was produced by The Group Theatre, which sought to perform plays that functioned as social commentaries on the inequality and poverty of 1930s America. Some referred to Kazan as the “Proletarian Thunderbolt.” (Creative Commons)

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From Our Advertisers

While Hitler ramped up weapons production and prepared to enact the Nuremberg Race Laws, the German Tourist Office touted their country as “The Land of Music” in this one-column advertisement on page 66 (left)…a couple of pages later we have an old chap looking forward to a German cruise and a quiet soak at Baden-Baden in the midst of madness…

…now this is more like it, fine dining under the stars aboard the Santa Paula, far from the maddening crowds…

…there were several colorful full-page ads in the issue, including this splashy display from the very un-splashy-sounding Bermuda Trade Development Board…

…cherry blossoms lined the path of Lincoln’s Le Baron Roadster…

…Camel played to a wide demographic, from ads featuring stylish young women to ads like this that roped in everyone from an “enthusiastic horsewoman” to an engineer working on the Boulder (now Hoover) Dam…

…I’m not sure what “Life begins at sixty” is supposed to mean, unless it’s about tempting young women with your bad habit…

…the New York American was hoping that some of the “Best People” who read The New Yorker would also want to read their apartment rental want ads…

…spring was in the air at Richard Hudnut’s Fifth Avenue salon…if you had dry skin, it was recommended you try a product with the unfortunate name “Du Barry Special Skin Food”…

…Taylor Instruments hoped readers would monitor the spring weather with one of their stylish thermometers…American graphic artist and illustrator Ervine Metzl provided the artwork…he was best known for his posters and postage stamp designs…

…which brings us to our illustrators and cartoonists, beginning with this small woodcut on page 6 signed “Martin”…

…empathy gained some traction in this Robert Day cartoon…

Alan Dunn demonstrated the effect of the Depression on the building trades…

Leonard Dove found one enlistee not ready for basic training…

Syd Hoff showed us all the right moves…

Alain was up in the garret with an artist in need of some peace…

Gluyas Williams took a glimpse backstage…

William Crawford Galbraith was still exploring the world of sugar daddies and golddiggers…

Barbara Shermund introduced a few giggles…

…and we close with another James Thurber classic…

Next Time: The Cowboy Philosopher…

The Lighter Side of George Grosz

Above: Landscape in Bayside, 1935, by George Grosz (Phillips Collection)

Knowing that the Nazis would not look kindly on his art, George Grosz took a job teaching drawing in New York in 1932, and by 1933 he had become a permanent resident of the city.

March 30, 1935 cover by Garrett Price celebrated the traditional “Bock” beer of spring.

Grosz (1893–1959) was overwhelmed by the size and pace of his adopted city, and for the most part he left behind his bitter caricatures and paintings of Berlin’s Weimar years and turned to other subjects, including landscapes and New York’s urban life. Critic Lewis Mumford took in a show of Grosz’s new water colors at An American Place, a small gallery run by photographer and art dealer Alfred Stieglitz. 

THE NEW OBJECTIVITY…George Grosz (left, circa 1921), was not alone in his harsh depictions of war and of German society during the Weimar Republic. Other key figures in the New Objectivity (Neue Sachlichkeit) movement included Max Beckmann and Otto Dix (right, circa 1929). Dix’s oil on canvas War Cripples (Kriegskrüppel), 1920, which is pictured above, was exhibited at the First International Dada Fair in Berlin in 1920. Only black and white images exist of the painting, which is believed to have been destroyed by Nazis who condemned it as degenerate art. (Wikimedia Commons/CUNY)

OH THE HUMANITY…Three selections from the “Ecco Homo” series by George Grosz. From left, Gruß aus Sachsen (Greetings from Saxony) 1920; Nachts, (At Night) 1919; and Schwere Zeiten (Hard Times) 1919. Grosz took a dim view of the corruption and moral decline he found in Weimar Berlin. (MoMA)
SEEING RED…Detail from George Grosz’s Metropolis, Oil on Canvas, 1916-1917. A blood-like shade of red could be seen in many of the artist’s paintings during World War I and the Weimar Republic. In this painting and in others, death is omnipresent. (Thyssen-Bornemisza Museum, Madrid)
A SOFTER SIDE could be found in George Grosz’s later watercolors, although he hadn’t entirely lost his sense of the satirical, or his taste for red paint. From left, Street in Harlem, circa mid-1930s; Ehepaar (A Married Couple), 1930; Central Park at Night, 1936. (Phillips Collection/Tate Gallery/Art Institute Chicago)
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Not the Bee’s Knees
For all the progressive thinking that was on display in the early New Yorker, we also reminded that it was also a creature of its time in 1935. Here are excerpts from a lengthy “Talk of the Town” entry that described the sad winnowing process of Broadway revue producer Earl Carroll

JUDGEMENT DAY…Here is a screenshot from a short film featuring the 1935 audition described in the “Talk” segment. At left is Earl Carroll. You can watch the film here. (YouTube)

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Too Little For Too Much

Film critic John Mosher gave Alfred Hitchcock’s 1934 version of The Man Who Knew Too Much just five lines in his review. He described it as “one of those preposterous adventure stories which Englishmen are always writing…” The film, however, was an international success, and it would define the rest of Hitchcock’s career as a director of thrillers with a unique sense of humor.

A HAPPY, CAREFREE HOUR is how critic John Mosher described his experience watching 1934’s The Man Who Knew Too Much. Clockwise, from top right, director Alfred Hitchcock with the film’s German star, Peter Lorre, who learned his part phonetically; Lorre and Cicely Oates; Edna Best did her best at playing a grieving mother. The film was remade by Paramount in 1956, starring James Stewart and Doris Day. (Wikipedia/aurorasginjoint.com/IMDB)

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Dizzy Nor Dazzled

In 1935 Lois Long had been divorced from cartoonist Peter Arno for about four years, and she was the mother of six-year-old daughter from that marriage. That didn’t keep her from sampling the city’s night life, but the days of speakeasies and drinking sessions that lasted into the wee hours were over for the 34-year-old Long. For her “Tables for Two” column she took the elevator up to the 65th floor of 30 Rockefeller Plaza to take in the entertainment at the Rainbow Room…as well as the pedestrian crowd…

WHAT A WHIRL…Above, diners watch a performance by ballroom dancers Lydia and Joresco in the then newly opened Rainbow Room in 1934. Lois Long enjoyed the Rainbow Room in its 1930s heyday, but she missed her old speakeasy crowd, noting that the Rainbow Room’s customers weren’t “dizzy enough” to suit her tastes. (Rockefeller Center Archives)

…her speakeasy days were over, but it appears Long still enjoyed a bit of indulgence…here is how she concluded her column:

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From Our Advertisers

Step into a crowded mid-century elevator and you were bound to catch a whiff of the menthol-tinged scent of Aqua Velva, not objectionable if properly applied…

…speaking of menthol, the makers of Spud cigarettes were now competing with upstart menthol cigarette makers including Kool…this ad has all kinds of problems, including the suggestion that the occasional Spud not only inspires one’s nuptials, but also ensures marital bliss, as well as a lifetime of chain-smoking…

…Luckies, on the other hand, continued to appeal to the modern woman, and what impressionable young woman wouldn’t be inclined to pick up the habit to complete her ensemble?…

…the makers of College Inn tomato juice gave their raving Duchess the week off, but we get another old sourpuss in the form of a “Dowager” who demands that her servant remove a glass of what very well could have been tomato juice…enter the old bat’s niece, Dorothea, who suggests that the cook, Clementina, serve some Libby’s pineapple juice instead, probably spiked with vodka given the Dowager’s sudden change of demeanor…

…Essex House continued their class-ridden ad campaign, this time with some stuff-shirt dreading his world cruise

…carmakers continued to emphasize economy and price to move their latest models, including the 1935 Nash with “Aeroform Design”…

…last week I noted that Packard was doubling down on promoting the elite status of its premium automobile; however, the carmaker did introduce a “120” that cost a fraction of its luxury models and helped the company’s bottom line…

 

…Packard’s competition was Lincoln and Cadillac, among other luxury brands, but Pierce Arrow represented the pinnacle of luxury and craftsmanship, the American equivalent of Rolls Royce…unlike the other luxury brands, Pierce Arrow did not offer a lower-priced car, and the company folded it 1938…

…speaking of luxury cars, if you owned a Lincoln, this little ad tucked into the top corner of page 55 showed you were to go to get a tune-up…

…the publishers at Street & Smith announced the launch of a new fashion magazine, Mademoiselle, a seemingly daring move in Depression America…the cover featured an illustration by Melisse (aka Mildred Oppenheim Melisse)…the magazine was later acquired by Condé Nast, and folded in November 2001…

Mildred Oppenheim Melisse’s cover for the debut issue of Mademoiselle, April 1935. Melisse also supplied the cover art for the May and June issues that year. (Pinterest)

Otto Soglow was on his way to becoming a wealthy man thanks to his “Little King” cartoon…William Randolph Hearst lured Soglow and the cartoon away from The New Yorker in 1934, so the only way the wee potentate could appear in the magazine was in an ad, like this one for Bloomingdale’s…

…Soglow continued to contribute to The New Yorker, and we kick off our cartoons with an April Fool’s joke…

…for the second week in a row Maurice Freed supplied the opening spot art for “Goings On About Town”…

Helen Hokinson was on the hunt for some predatory fish…

James Thurber looked in on the nudist fad that emerged in the 1930s…

…and we close with George Price, an some alarming bedside manners…

Next Time: Keep Calm and Carry On…

Something Frivolous

And what can be more frivolous than a Busby Berkeley musical, with scores of leggy showgirls tap-dancing in perfect rhythm, or dressed in identical white gowns while playing flying pianos. Make sense? No, and that was the whole point.

March 23, 1935 cover by Peter Arno. The color, contrast and composition are striking; it looks more like a cover from the 50s or 60s.

“In an era of breadlines, depression and wars, I tried to help people get away from all the misery…” Berkeley once remarked. “I wanted to make people happy, if only for an hour.” Gold Diggers of 1935 was Berkeley’s second “Gold Digger” picture (he choreographed or directed four; there were six in all, including one silent), and it was the first in which he served as sole director. Critic John Mosher didn’t know what to make of the film, likening it more to an earthquake than an entertainment.

SOMEONE HAS TO DO IT…Busby Berkeley (1895-1976) works with dancers (left) during the production of 1933’s 42nd Street; right, at work on one of his lavish sets, circa 1930s. (IMDB)

The “harmless jingle” Mosher referred to, Harry Warren and Al Dubin’s “Lullaby of Broadway,” received an Oscar for Best Original Song (it also gave me an earworm for a week).

GOLDEN GIRLS…Clockwise, from top left, Alice Brady as the parsimonious Matilda Prentiss and Adolphe Menjou as the conniving Russian dance director Nicolai Nicoleff in Gold Diggers of 1935; a scene from the dancing pianos sequence; Dick Powell and Gloria Stuart as the film’s sweethearts. (Wikipedia/YouTube/IMDB)

Amid the frivolity, Mosher noted the juxtaposition of the jingly “Lullaby of Broadway” with the haunting, two-minute sequence of Wini Shaw singing “Lullaby” as her disembodied face emerges from the blackness toward the viewer.

The scene continues as the woman (Shaw) turns onto her back, her head slowly dissolving into the nighttime city…after a raucous, mass tap-dancing scene, she falls to her death, and the sequence is reversed, her face disappearing into the blackness. The blog Acidemic gives an interesting take on this part of the film, which is more reminiscent of a German avant-garde film than Berkeley’s usual fare…

(YouTube)

…Mosher found the scene “terrifying.” Perhaps Shirley Temple helped calm his nerves with her precocious antics in The Little Colonel

NO FLOATING HEADS HERE…Shirley Temple and Bill Robinson doing the famous staircase dance in The Little Colonel (1935). (TCM)

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Up In Smoke

In “Notes and Comment” E.B. White considered the possibility that cigarette smoking might be harmful to unborn babies, and wryly suggested that embryos could replace grandmothers as a new growth market for big tobacco:

…White referred to the advertisement below, which appeared in the Feb. 9, 1935 issue of The New Yorker:

…White also commented on his recent visit to Madison Square Garden’s winter skating carnival…

THE DOUBLE AXEL was still thirteen years in the future when Swedish skaters Gillis Emanuel Grafström (left) and Vivi-Anne Hultén delighted E.B. White at Madison Square Garden. Photos are from 1924 and 1932, respectively. (Wikipedia)

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Prescience of Mind

We have more from E.B. White, this time in a humorous piece titled “The Dove’s Nest,” in which White took a poke at the most influential newspaper editor in the country, Arthur Brisbane. A close friend of William Randolph Hearst, Brisbane essentially ran Hearst’s newspaper empire. The New Yorker often ridiculed Hearst’s (and Brisbane’s) jingoistic approach to the news that included giant headlines warning of war. Excerpts:

William A. Swanberg, author of the 1961 biography Citizen Hearst, described Brisbane as “a one-time socialist who had drifted pleasantly into the profit system…in some respects a vest-pocket Hearst–a personal enigma, a workhorse, a madman for circulation, a liberal who had grown conservative, an investor.”

DAMN THOSE TORPEDOES…Arthur Brisbane in 1933. His grandson, Arthur S. Brisbane, now retired, served as public editor of The New York Times from 2010 to 2012. (credo.library.umass.edu)

The New Yorker continued to take jabs at Brisbane in the following issue (March 30). Brisbane owned a large estate (including a horse farm) in New Jersey that he made available to New Deal work programs during the Depression. I suppose this Al Frueh cartoon was some kind of reference to that…

…also in the March 30 issue was this ad from World Peaceways, which raised alarms about possible war and bombs raining down from the sky…

…back to the March 23 issue, where we find the calming strains of a Brahms concerto at Carnegie Hall, conducted by Arturo Toscanini with some support from his son-in-law, Vladimir Horowitz

MAY I CALL YOU DAD?…Not likely something said by young Vladimir Horowitz, left, to father-in-law Arturo Toscanini. (WQXR/Britannica)

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From Our Advertisers

Beginning in 1934 the makers of Old Gold cigarettes hired pin-up artist George Petty to create a series of ads featuring a homely, clueless sugar daddy and his leggy mistress…here he turns the tables, introducing a “Pudgy Wudgy” matron putting the moves on a handsome hosiery salesman…

…this Petty ad appeared in the Feb. 9, 1935 issue of The New Yorker

…the makers of Camels continued their campaign of “distinguished women” who enjoyed their product…here we have a former debutante, Dorothy Paine, an “alert young member of New York’s inner circle.” Not much of a record of Dorothy, who married a man named Walter H. Sterling in 1935…apparently they moved to Phoenix and bought up property in the Southwest…

…the makers of General Tire offered this grim assessment of tire safety…the lad seems to be a mere investment of time…

…although prestige brands suffered mightily during the Depression, the folks at Packard were doubling down on the elite status of their automobile…

…we’ve seen the work of fashion illustrator Ruth Sigrid Grafstrom before in ads for Spud cigarettes…here she contributes some elegant lines to a spot for Bergdorf Goodman (is the woman on the right smoking a Spud?)…

…here’s the Duchess again, still blowing her top over College Inn tomato juice…just look at her clenched fists…that fop with a monocle looks like he just took a left hook to the chops…

…on to our illustrators, William Cotton created this caricature of Rexford Guy Tugwell for Russell Lord’s two-part profile…Tugwell and President Franklin D. Roosevelt created the Resettlement Administration, which relocated rural unemployed to “Greenbelt Cities” near urban job markets. Critics called him “Rex the Red” for his social engineering experiments, and after he was forced out of federal government, Tugwell was appointed in 1938 as the first director of the NYC Planning Commission. Naturally, he would butt heads with Robert Moses…

…illustrator and painter Maurice Freed kicked off the calendar section…

…bookended on the bottom of page 4 by one of James Thurber’s most recognized drawings…

…Thurber again, and more woes between the sexes…

…we continue with our cartoonists by looking in on Barbara Shermund

George Price found a new wrinkle for his recurring floating man cartoon…

Helen Hokinson graced page 19 with scenes from the opera…

…leaving an extra drawing stranded on page 18…

Alain offered a new twist on the promotion of physical fitness…

Gluyas Williams brought us to the stuffy confines of club life (the cartoon was originally featured vertically)…

…and we close with Richard Decker, and a lucky draw at the IRS…

Next Time: The Lighter Side of George Grosz…

Home Sweet Motohome

Morris Markey thought he was getting a glimpse of the future when he attended an exhibit of “machines to live in” at New York’s Grand Central Palace.

March 16, 1935 cover by Constantin Alajalov.

The Great Depression created a housing shortfall in the U.S. of nearly two million units, so many idled architects and builders turned to industrialized housing as a way to boost the building industry. In “A Reporter At Large,” Markey described his encounter with one type of “machine to live in”––the Motohome.

The idea of pre-fab living wasn’t exactly new in 1935, originating in the 1920s with the German Bauhaus school and with notables such as Swiss architect Le Corbusier.

NOT THRILLED WITH FRILLS…Charles-Édouard Jeanneret (1887-1965), better known as Le Corbusier, stated in 1923 that “a house is a living machine.” He believed the world had evolved beyond the need for decorative frills, and that homes and furnishings should reflect their functions. Top left, Corbu’s 1929 Villa Savoye in Poissy, France; at right, his 1947-52 Unité d’habitation de Marseille. (Fondation Le Corbusier/Architectural Digest/Le Corbusier World Heritage)

Markey correctly surmised that the American twist on Le Corbusier’s vision was largely driven by big corporations, and in the case of the Motohome, by General Electric.

GET YOUR MOTO RUNNING…Clockwise, from bottom left, New York’s Grand Central Palace; the Eggiman House in Madison, Wisconsin, a 1936 Motohome listed in the National Register of Historic Places; Long Island Motohome featured on a brochure; Popular Mechanics article on the Motohome. A common wall “core” was prefabricated with all kitchen and bath fixtures, as well as the HVAC system. (Wikipedia/makeitmidcentury.com/books.google.com)

 * * *

Strange and Wonderful

That is how E.B. White described the 3,664-seat Paramount Theatre, which opened on 43rd and Broadway in 1926. After nine years White was still in awe of its palatial trappings. In his “Notes and Comment,” White offered some thoughts after an evening at the movies.

CINEMA GLORY DAYS…E.B. White visited the Paramount Theatre to take in Charles Laughton’s hit film, Ruggles of Red Gap. From left, Zasu Pitts, Laughton, Charles Ruggles and Maude Eburne in Ruggles. (nyc.gov/TCM)
PALACE FOR THE PICTURES…The Paramount Theatre’s Grande Hall featured a 75-foot-long ceiling mural by artist Louis Grell above the Italian marble-lined entrance. In 1966, after a run of the James Bond film Thunderball, the Paramount was closed for good and later gutted and turned into retail and office space. (Louis Grell Foundation)

 * * *

Bad Guys

Andrew Mellon’s tax fraud troubles were sandwiched between the woes of a fascist bromance in Howard Brubaker’s “Of All Things”…Mellon would soon be dead, Adolf Hitler would lie his way around the Brits, and Benito Mussolini would struggle to inspire Italian women to produce his “army of tots”…

NOT TONIGHT, WE HAVE A HEADACHE…Little wonder fascist dictator Benito Mussolini couldn’t inspire a baby boom. (Wikipedia)

 * * *

Zoom Zoom

In his “Motors” column, writer “Speed” looked in on Sir Malcolm Campbell (1885-1948), who was attempting to break the 300-mph mark at Daytona in his 2,500-horsepower Blue Bird.

BLUE STREAK…Sir Malcolm Campbell’s bid for a land speed record surpassing 300 mph began at Daytona Beach in March 1935 in his Campbell-Railton Blue Bird, powered by a 2,500 hp supercharged Rolls-Royce V-12. He managed to hit 276 mph (combined runs in each direction), but conditions at the beach (bottom photo) left him short of his goal. He found a smoother, longer run at Utah’s Bonneville Salt Flats in September, where he would average 301.337 mph (484.955 km/h) in two passes to set the new record. (floridamemory.com/oldmachinepress.com)
ONCE IS NOT ENOUGH…Sir Malcolm Campbell MBE was a British racing motorist and motoring journalist. He gained the world speed record on land and on water several times. He was also one of the few land speed record holders of his era to die of natural causes. (Wikipedia)

 * * *

From Our Advertisers

For ninety bucks you could get this swell pajama suit and matching robe (plus headdress) at Henri Bendel, the perfect ensemble for having a leisurely smoke after a day facing the world…For more than 100 years, Henri Bendel’s flagship and only store was located at 10 West 57th Street…it closed in 2018…

…I doubt the woman in the Bendel ad would have been interested in clothes made with Acele…it was without question that the uppers only wore clothes derived from living things…

…this Anglophilic Peck & Peck ad is notable for its condescending reference to the “mountain folk” in Appalachia who “were born to loom”…

…while we are on the subject, check out this ad for Grace Cruises…this was a common theme in mid-century travel advertising, Westerners dressed in their Sunday best while having a gander at the colorful natives…

…who are just part of the scenery…

…all four of the automobile ads in this issue come from long-gone companies…the luxury carmaker Packard made beautiful, quality cars that outsold Cadillacs up until 1950, but competition from the Big Three (GM, Ford, Chrysler) plus Packard’s decision in 1954 to buy failing Studebaker led to Packard’s demise four years later…

…a more successful merger took place in 1954 between Nash…

…and Hudson, the two forming the new American Motors Corporation…

…contrary to this ad’s tagline, everything was actually going down for Hupmobile, which would go out of business in 1939…

…the makers of College Inn Tomato Juice Cocktail apparently thought an angry old “Duchess” would boost sales…she first appeared in the Feb. 23 issue…

…in the March 16 issue she appears to be psychotic, threatening, “I’ll teach her not to serve PLAIN tomato juice before dinner!” Will she break the glass on the table and lunge at her host (the old WITCH) with a glass shard?…Stay tuned…

…better to calm down and have a Guinness, which, by Jove, was affordable and good for you!…

New Yorker cartoons are also good for you, and we begin with Al Frueh and this taxing illustration at the bottom of page 4…

…Frueh again, for the theater review section…in the center is Shirley Booth, known to Baby Boomers as the star of the old TV series Hazel (1961-66)…

…Booth was much more than a sitcom star, achieving the Triple Crown of Acting––an Academy Award, two Primetime Emmy Awards and three Tony Awards…

ACTING CHOPS…Shirley Booth (1898-1992) as Hazel in 1962; on the cover of the 1935 Playbill featuring Three Men on a Horse. (Wikipedia)

…we continue with Daniel ‘Alain’ Brustlein, and a term of endearment from someone well known to the police…

William Steig took up two pages to give one opera patron the cold shoulder…

Alan Dunn cautioned against car dealers perched on high hills…

George Price examined the finer points of salesmanship…

Helen Hokinson headed for the high seas…

…and we close with an all-time classic from James Thurber

Next Time: Something Frivolous…

Snapshot of a Dog

Above: A bull terrier in the early 1900s. (Westminster Kennel Club)

For dog lovers, or really for anyone with a heart, James Thurber’s “Snapshot of a Dog” is a moving tribute to a childhood pet, a bull terrier named Rex.

March 9, 1935 cover by Rea Irvin.

“Snapshot of a Dog” was reprinted almost two decades later in Our Dogs, A Magazine For Dog Lovers, which featured cover stories of various celebrities and their dogs. I recall reading “Snapshot” as a child in an anthology belonging to my parents; it affected me deeply then and still does today. Grab your hankies—here are excerpts from the first and last sections of the story:

FAITHFUL FRIENDS…Clockwise, from left, James Thurber with his beloved Christabel; Thurber’s illustration of a childhood pet, a terrier named “Muggs” from the story “The Dog That Bit People” (1933); photograph of the real Muggs; dogs appear in many of Thurber’s cartoons as a stoic presence among maladjusted humans; Thurber at work on one of his dogs in an undated photo. (thurberhouse.org/ohiomemory.org/jamesthurber.org)

 * * *

Searching For the American Way

Ninety years ago E.B. White (in “Notes and Comment”) offered some thoughts on America’s system of government, and the country’s need for a song of hope…

…White also commented on a distasteful development at the old Round Table haunt, the Algonquin Hotel…

MAYBE USE THE BACK DOOR…Entrance to the Hotel Algonquin, early 1930s. (Hotel Algonquin)

…In her column “Tables for Two,” Lois Long took issue with folks who were yapping about couvert charges, and offered a simple solution…

…following Long’s “On and Off the Avenue” column were several restaurant reviews signed “S.H.”…here the writer visited the home of the Reuben sandwich…

KNOWN FOR ITS EPONYMOUS SANDWICH, Reuben’s also offered a Georgie Jessel (sturgeon and Swiss) and an Al Jolson (raw beef). (restaurant-ingthroughhistory.com/tag/reubens)

 * * *

Getting Their Kicks

Professional football has been played in the UK since the 1870s, and by the early 20th century the sport drew massive crowds (the 1923 FA Cup final at Wembley Stadium drew an estimated 300,000). This excerpt from “London Letter” correspondent Samuel Jeake, Jr. (aka Conrad Aiken) offered a glimpse into the sport in 1935:

DOWN IN FRONT…Spectators in a crush at Highbury ground in London when a huge crowd turned up for the Arsenal versus Tottenham Hotspur match in January 1934. (Photo by A. Hudson/blog.woolwicharsenal.co.uk)

 * * *

Endurance Test

Thomas Wolfe (1900-1938) published a number of novellas as well as plays and stories during his short life, but he only published two novels before his death in 1938 (others would be published posthumously). Wolfe’s second novel, the autobiographical Of Time and the River, would be well received by New Yorker critic Clifton Fadiman. Here is an excerpt from Fadiman’s lengthy review:

KNOCKOUT…Clifton Fadiman, right, wrote that Thomas Wolfe’s energetic writing could leave one feeling “punch-drunk.” (biblio.com/Wikipedia)

 * * *

From Our Advertisers

We begin with two pioneers in the cosmetics industry…Dorothy Gray salons set the springtime mood with this advertisement on the inside front cover…

Dorothy Gray (1886-1968), a.k.a. Dorothy Cloudman, sold her business in 1927 to Lehn & Fink, a New York-based pharmaceutical company best known as the maker of Lysol. In 1929, the company opened a flagship salon and executive offices in the new Dorothy Gray Building at 683 Fifth Avenue…

Dorothy Gray Building at 683 Fifth Avenue (cosmeticsandskin.com)

Richard Hudnut (1855-1928) began working in his father’s drug store in 1873, and in 1899 opened his own pharmacy on Broadway. Hudnut, who promoted his perfumes and cosmetics by distributing booklets detailing his preparations, sold his company in 1916 to William R. Warner, which eventually became Pfizer…

Hudnut is recognized as the first American to achieve international success in cosmetics manufacturing. Part of that success was Du Barry, a premium perfume he created in 1902. It was used to scent a variety of products.

At left, the narrow Hudnut Building at 693 Fifth Avenue, designed by Ely Jacques Kahn and Eliel Saarinen. The Elizabeth Arden salon was next door. At right, salon treatment room in the Hudnut building.(cosmeticsandskin.com)

…if salon treatments weren’t your thing, you could revive by taking a trip to sunny Southern California…just look what it did for the old Major…

…the makers of Camel cigarettes offered an even quicker and cheaper way to feel invigorated…

…the back cover continued to be dominated by tobacco companies targeting women smokers…this week Chesterfield got in on the act…

…on to our cartoonists, we begin with James Thurber at the top of page 2 to kick off “Goings On About Town”…

…and Thurber again, with the ultimate party pooper…

George Price graced the bottom of “Goings On” on page 4 with this whimsy…

Helen Hokinson looked in on a children’s concert…

…there was another quarrel among lovers via Peter Arno

…revolution was in the air at Alan Dunn’s cocktail party…

George Price again, with two women who found a new perspective atop the Empire State Building…

…and we close with Syd Hoff, and an unexpected bundle of joy…

Next Time: Home Sweet Motohome…

The Mouse That Roared, In Color

John Chapin Mosher was the first regularly assigned film critic for The New Yorker, writing reviews for the magazine from 1928 to 1942. He was also a fan of Disney animated shorts, and one particular mouse.

March 2, 1935 cover by Robert Day.

Mosher, who also contributed short stories to the magazine, displayed a lively, witty style in his reviews, and in the early years of Walt Disney animation he was quite partial to Mickey Mouse, who from his sound debut in 1928’s Steamboat Willie had quickly grown into an international star—when the cartoon mouse first appeared in color in The Band Concert, it was a sensation. Mosher’s other review was not so enthusiastic, even though Sweet Music featured another major star of the 1930s, Rudy Vallée.

The 73rd short film in Disney’s Mickey Mouse series, The Band Concert was acclaimed by no less than conductor Arturo Toscanini, who saw it six times. Esquire’s culture critic Gilbert Seldes wrote that “[none of] dozens of works produced in America at the same time in all the other arts can stand comparison with this one.”

BEDAZZLED…Along with New Yorker film critic John Mosher, both the great Italian conductor Arturo Toscanini and culture critic Gilbert Seldes praised Mickey Mouse’s debut in color. Even later critics revered the nine-and-a-half minute short. In 1984 Leonard Maltin said that The Band Concert is “one of the best cartoons ever made anywhere… There are nuances of expression in Mickey’s character throughout this film that had seldom been explored in earlier shorts…” (Wikipedia/YouTube)
PASSING THE TORCH…Bandleader Rudy Vallée and famed torch singer Helen Morgan in Sweet Music. Years of heavy drinking had taken a toll on Morgan by this time; she appeared for a “scant moment” in the film, and would leave movies altogether in 1936. (cinemasojourns.com)

 * * *

Rudy Was Here, Too

Rudy Vallée was among the celebrities gathered at Jack Dempsey’s Restaurant, a placed visited in the previous issue by Lois Long. This time Russell Maloney and Charles Cook took a look inside for “The Talk of the Town”…

JACK DEMPSEY LOOMS over his restaurant at 50th Street and Eighth Avenue in this odd postcard image (top), where the backdrop of the city has been replaced with an open sky (Terry Gilliam’s Monty Python animation comes to mind). The restaurant would relocate to 1619 Broadway in 1937-38. (Courtesy eBay)

 * * *

Keeping It to Themselves

New Yorkers typically don’t boast about their city because they often consider it a natural part of their lives and identity. Indeed, overt displays of civic boosterism are found to be embarrassing, if not distasteful. E.B. White, in his “Notes and Comment,” explained:

BEING NUMBER TWO, WE TRY HARDER…Although not mentioned in White’s note, The New Yorker enjoyed taking shots at boosterism, and especially the Chicago Tribune and its publisher, Robert R. McCormick, a leading booster of the Second City. (Michigan State University)

White observed, however, that New Yorkers weren’t so thrilled about the cost of living in their fair city…

 * * *

Those Excitable French

In her “Letter from Paris,” Janet Flanner recalled the previous year’s “Bloody Sixth” riot that resulted in the police fatally shooting seventeen people. She noted that things were more peaceful on the riot’s anniversary.

AN UGLY TURN…On Feb.6, 1934, thousands of extreme right-wing activists and war veterans gathered in Paris to protest against the alleged corruption of the left-wing government. When protests turned violent, police responded by fatally shooting seventeen people, only nine of whom were far-right protesters. (Wikipedia/wienerholocaustlibrary.org)

* * *

From Our Advertisers

Auburn made some of America’s most beautiful and technologically advanced automobiles, but the Depression was too much for luxury brands like Auburn, which would sadly fold in 1937…

…while luxury brands struggled, Americans turned to less expensive cars that touted safety and economy…in the 1930’s safety meant strong body construction, although this didn’t address the problem of unharnessed riders rattling around inside the “TurretTop” shell, or being launched through the windshield…

…the bargain brand Plymouth, however, employed snob appeal, and safety, to move their “Floating Ride” autos…

…Feel classy driving that Plymouth? Well apparently beer drinking is classy too…just ask this chap, who is apparently toasting a successful fox hunt…

…Speaking of class, the folks at Essex House played on class anxieties to fill their rooms at Central Park South…

…a common theme in  upscale fashion ads was aviation; that is, the suggestion that the smart set took to the air when they traveled–they were the only ones who could afford it…

…in stark contrast is this ad from the pacifist/antiwar organization World Peaceways…their bold and unflinching ads described soldiers as pawns in the corrupt games of the rich and powerful…

…Radio City Music Hall was originally opened in December 1932 as a live performance venue, but the cavernous hall wasn’t particularly suited to theatrical performances, and just two weeks after opening, managers announced that the theatre would switch to showing feature films. This modest one-column ad tried to stir up interest in a comedy featuring none other than Edward G. Robinson, who was known for his tough guy, gangster roles…

CRACKING SMILES INSTEAD OF HEADS…Jean Arthur and Edward G. Robinson in The Whole Town’s Talking. (postmodernpelican.com)

…beautifully photographed, stylish women smoking cigarettes were common in 1930s advertising as tobacco companies continued to tap the growth potential of this demographic…

…this next spot employs of the talents of Otto Soglow to promote blended Penn Maryland whiskey…

…which segues to our cartoonists, and Soglow again…his popular Little King stopped running in The New Yorker when it was acquired by Hearst in 1934, but Soglow simply created other King-like characters to run the gags…

…”Profiles” featured socialist cartoonist Art Young, with an illustration by Al Frueh

James Thurber contributed this illustration/cartoon at bottom of page 12 in “The Talk of the Town” section…not sure what this means…fear of being attacked by giant Puritan women?…

Jaro Fabry contributed only one cartoon to The New Yorker…the meaning is lost on me…

…I was also baffled by this Gilbert Bundy cartoon, until I consulted this excerpt from a Paris Review article (“Trading Places” by Sadie Stein 3/19/14): Time was, the passing on of compliments was so ritualized a part of life that the practice had a name: trade-last. Merriam-Webster’s defines it as “a complimentary remark by a third person that a hearer offers to repeat to the person complimented if he or she will first report a compliment made about the hearer,” and dates the first recorded use of the term to 1891…

Kemp Starrett offered up a uniquely honest sales pitch…

Alan Dunn advised against eating your vegetables…

Leonard Dove, and where old-timey music met an old-timey feud…

…and we close with William Crawford Galbraith, and a bartender trying to class up his joint…

Next Time: Snapshot of a Dog…

Quite a Month

ABOVE: E.B. White presented us with a mixed bag of February happenings, from the comings and goings of Neily Vanderbilt to the Macon disaster and the economic power of Mickey Mouse.

The title for this entry comes from E.B. White’s “Notes and Comment” column, which kicked off the Feb. 23, 1935, issue with a quick rundown of February events.

Feb. 23, 1935 cover by Abner Dean.

February notably marked the end of the Bruno Hauptmann trial. Convicted of the abduction and murder of the infant son of Charles and Anne Morrow Lindbergh, Hauptmann would go to the electric chair on April 3, 1936. White also noted the return of Admiral Richard Byrd from his second Antarctic expedition, the demise of the U.S. Navy airship U.S.S. Macon, and the economic miracle of the Mickey Mouse watch.

FLYING AIRCRAFT CARRIER…The US Navy’s 785-foot rigid airship USS Macon could launch and retrieve up to five airplanes in mid-flight. Known as “parasitic fighters, the Sparrowhawks were hung from a rail system inside the airship. On Feb. 12, 1935 the Macon crashed in a storm off the coast Point Sur, California. Only two of the 66 crew were lost. Photos above, clockwise from top left, show the deployment of a Sparrowhawk; the USS Macon over New York City in 1933; crew pose for a photo in the dirigible’s hanger; photo from the wreckage discovered in 2006—the pre-1941 pattern U.S. roundel emblem still recognizable. Sky-hook also visible. (sanctuaries.noaa.gov/macon/Sunnyvale Historical Society)
TIME WAS RUNNING OUT for the Ingersoll Waterbury Company (now known as Timex) during the Great Depression. It was saved from bankruptcy, in part, by the introduction of the Mickey Mouse watch. (connecticuthistory.org)

White also made note of the comings and goings of Cornelius “Neily” Vanderbilt III (1873–1942), who was saying farewell to Fifth Avenue (although he would return to live out his life there), while New Yorkers were apparently saying farewell to the Park Avenue Tunnel (aka Murray Hill Tunnel). After more than 190 years it is still there, now serving a single lane of northbound traffic from 33rd to 40th Street.

TUNNEL VISION…Park Avenue Tunnel in 1890 (top) and in 2013 during a Voice Tunnel art installation. The nearly two-century old tunnel was made open to pedestrians for the first time in coordination with the annual Summer Streets event which began in 2013. (viewing.nyc/Wikipedia)

 * * *

Getting An Earful

Howard Brubaker, in his column “Of All Things,” made this observation of deepening repression taking place in Nazi Germany…

 * * *

Try Our Knockout Cheesecake

Lois Long continued her chronicle of New York night life, in this excerpt making note of the celebrity gawkers at Jack Dempsey’s tavern/restaurant near Madison Square Garden. Apparently Dempsey’s place was renown for its cheesecake…

PLEASED AS PUNCH…Heavyweight boxing champ Jack Dempsey opened his restaurant at 50th Street and Eighth Avenue in 1935 (bottom photo) before moving to Broadway’s Brill Building in 1937 (top). According to Ephemeral New York, “In the restaurant’s early years, Dempsey was known to hold court at a table, a legendary figure greeting customers and glad-handling guests.” (Ephemeral New York)

 * * *

From Our Advertisers

The refurbished Earl Carroll Theatre (7th Ave. and 50th St.) opened as the French Casino late in 1934. The art deco theatre’s first show was the Revue Folies Bergères, promoted here in this small ad on page 54 in the Feb. 23 issue…

…the menu’s cover suggests patrons weren’t there for the cheesecake (yes, there is a pun, but I’m not touching it)…

…another ad in the back pages touted the “Post-Depression Gaities” at the New Amsterdam Theatre with an impressive roster of stars including New Yorker notables Robert Benchley and Alexander Woollcott

…following Prohibition, Seagram introduced two blended whiskies—5 Crown and 7 Crown. Seagram 5 Crown was discontinued in 1942, while Seagram 7 would go to become the first million case brand in U.S. history…

…this one-column ad caught my eye for the rendering of the stereotypic ill-tempered matron, here having a fit over tomato juice…

…coming from an old and influential New York family, it’s hard to believe Elizabeth West Post Van Rensselaer thought about Campbell’s soup when her daughter, Elizabeth, fell seriously ill…at any rate, something must have worked because her daughter lived until 2001…

…For a time “Chief Pontiac” served as a logo for the Pontiac line of automobiles, discontinued by GM in 2010…

…many automobile advertisements of this era emphasized safety, none more prominent than the “Body by Fisher” ads that frequently featured happy little children…oddly, no one had yet considered seat belts, car seats or other safety measures we now take for granted…

…the makers of Old Gold cigarettes (Lorillard) ran a series of ads featuring a sugar daddy and his leggy mistress…they were drawn by George Petty (1884–1975), famed for his “pin-up girls”…as an added bonus below the ad, you could renew your New Yorker subscription—two years for seven bucks…

…the makers of Camels kept it classy with their continuing series of society women enjoying their unfiltered “Turkish & Domestic” blend…

…the “young matron” in the ad, the Sydney, Australia-born Joan (Deery) Wetmore (1911-1989), was indeed “much-photographed,” and was a favorite of Vogue photographer Edward Steichen:

Detail from a Steichen photo of Joan Wetmore, taken in Rockefeller Center’s Rainbow Room, 1934. (Condé Nast)

…on to our cartoonists, Al Frueh illustrated Humphrey Bogart as the coldblooded killer Duke Mantee in the 1935 play The Petrified Forest; the 1936 film adaptation would be Bogart’s breakout role in the movies…

Helen Hokinson went shopping for drapes…

George Price was all tied in knots…

…and still up in the air…

Barbara Shermund dreamed of Venice…

James Thurber gave us the life of the party…

…and we close with Leonard Dove, and some unexpected party life…

Next Time: The Mouse Roars, In Color…

A Century and a Decade

Above: The first three issues of The New Yorker, an Al Frueh cover (#2) sandwiched between Rea Irvin covers.

The current team at The New Yorker has put together a great read (Feb. 17 & 24, 2025) to mark the magazine’s centennial. I’m still reading, but what I have seen so far is first rate, including Jill Lepore’s insightful “War of Words” (chronicling the battles between editors and writers over the years) and David Remnick’s look back at those first years of struggle in “The Talk of Town.”

I was glad to see the return of the Rea Irvin cover (appended with the “100”), but was a bit disappointed to see “Talk” headed by the re-draw of Irvin’s original art. Oh well, you can’t have it all. However, Seth’s “Appreciation” of Irvin was wonderful. Here is a little clip:

DOUBLE TAKE…Seth’s “Appreciation” of Rea Irvin in the centennial issue notes the relationship between those first two Irvin covers. Bravo!

The joy of writing this blog is the vicarious pleasure found in the deep reading of every issue, as well as occasional historical insights into how we have arrived at our present day. It has also been rewarding to follow the maturation of the magazine from its first issue, which was a bit of a jumble (see my previous post). However, what we see in Issue #1 and in subsequent issues were subjects The New Yorker found worthy of attention in 1925, whether they were frequent potshots at publisher William Randolph Hearst or the many comic possibilities of President Calvin Coolidge, here rendered by Miguel Covarrubias in the March 14, 1925 issue…

Harold Ross cronies and various Algonquin Round Table stalwarts were also frequent subjects of the early magazine…Covarrubias again, with a rendering of Ross pal Heywood Broun in the March 7, 1925 issue (#3)…

The first issues also featured frequent references to celebrities of the day, some still known to us while others have faded into the mists of time, such as the “literary lion” Michael Arlen (March 28, 1925) and Queen Marie of Rumania, the March 14, 1925 issue noting that New York was “agog” about her possible visit.

CELEBS OF THEIR DAY…Writer Michael Arlen (aka Dikran Kouyoumdjian) and Queen Marie of Rumania were prominent in the pages of the early New Yorker. 

The June 6, 1925 issue even featured the Queen in a Pond’s cold cream ad…

The leading lady of New York’s nightlife, Texas Guinan, was also prominent in those early issues. Her 300 Club, constantly raided by Prohibition-era police, was a favorite of Broadway and Hollywood agents. Another frequent subject was the life of Charlie Chaplin, mostly due to his scandalous marriage to sixteen-year-old Lita Grey when he was thirty-five. Then there was Pola Negri, Polish stage and screen star and headliner of gossip magazines that followed her series of love affairs that included Chaplin and Rudolph Valentino.

GOSSIP FODDER OF ’25…From left, Texas Guinan reigned supreme as Queen of the Speakeasies during Prohibition; Charlie Chaplin’s teen bride Lita Grey kept tongues wagging, as did the off-screen antics of the volatile Pola Negri.

The Scopes “Monkey Trial” was also big news at the time, and The New Yorker had a heyday with the populist firebrand William Jennings Bryan. Here Rea Irvin joined in on the fun:

In those lean first months advertisers were hard to come by, and during this time we see a few oddballs…

From left, ads from Sept. 19, 1925 and April 18, 1925. Charles Culkin, a Tammany Hall politician, would serve as county sheriff from 1926 to 1929. He would also embezzle interest money from the sheriff’s office, part of the whole mess that would bring down Mayor Jimmy Walker.

…there were regular ads for Fleischmann’s Yeast (this example from Sept. 19, 1925)…Raoul Fleischmann hated the family baking business but loved hanging out with the Algonquin Round Table gang. When the fledging magazine nearly went belly up in 1925, Fleischmann kicked in the money (and on a number of occasions thereafter) to keep it going. Hence the advertising for his yeast cakes, touted not as a baking aid, but rather as a cure for constipation and other intestinal turmoils…

…and it’s a kick to see ads like this (from April 18, 1925), a modest little one-column spot for what some consider to be the Great American Novel… The Great Gatsby would receive a brief, lukewarm review from The New Yorker…

…and then there were those early cartoons and illustrators…as noted before, the very first was by Al Frueh

Reginald Marsh would make his first appearance in Issue #2…a social realist painter, Marsh was a prolific contributor to The New Yorker from 1925 to 1944…

…a number of the early cartoons resembled the captioning style of the British Punch…here is an April 4, 1925 contribution by the British illustrator Gilbert Wilkinson…

…In the April 11, 1925 issue, Miguel Covarrubias offered these caricatures of 1920s celebrities…

…another contributor from the April 11 issue, Hans Stengel…

…and John Held Jr supplied the first of his many woodcuts in the April 11 issue…

Barbara Shermund found her way onto the June 13, 1925 cover, the first of nine covers she would contribute to magazine, along with hundreds of cartoons…

From the June 27, 1925 issue, this is one of my favorite illustrations. In The New Yorker’s “Critique” section, a terrific caricature of Russian-American actress Alla Nazimova, by Swedish artist Einar Nerman

…another early contributor, Johan Bull, was especially prolific in providing spots for sports columns. Here in the July 11, 1925 issue he contributed this rare multi-panel cartoon…

Peggy Bacon was another early contributor, here from July 18, 1925…

…and of course there was Ralph Barton, listed as one of The New Yorker’s original “Advisory Editors,” contributing several different features including “The Graphic Section,” a satiric take on new trends in photojournalism, and this July 4, 1925 feature on the various ways of Europeans, written and illustrated by Barton…here is a clip from that feature…

…I can’t include all of the first cartoonists who contributed to those critical first months, so I will end with dear Helen Hokinson, and her first New Yorker contribution, a spot illustration for “The Talk of the Town” in the July 4, 1925 issue…

Next Time: Quite a Month…

A Centennial to Remember

ABOVE: Although Harold Ross looms large in most accounts of the early New Yorker, his wife at the time, Jane Grant, played a major role in its conception and launch.

After a year hiatus, during which I changed jobs (yes, I’m still “hewing the wood and drawing the old wet stuff,” as Bertie Wooster would put it), I am returning to A New Yorker State of Mind, just in time for the 100th anniversary of the greatest magazine in the world.

Issue #1 cover by Rea Irvin, Feb. 21, 1925.

Before I continue where I left off—the tenth anniversary issue, Feb. 15, 1935—let us mark the magazine’s centennial year with a look back at the first issue, Feb. 21, 1925.

It is remarkable that after a century the magazine still retains its character, even if it is more serious these days, and more topical, and, most egregious, still fiddling with Rea Irvin’s original designs (for more on this issue, please consult Michael Maslin’s Ink Spill. In addition to being one of the magazine’s greatest cartoonists, Maslin offers a wealth of New Yorker insight and history, including his longstanding crusade to restore Irvin’s original artwork for “The Talk of the Town,” which was removed and replaced by a contemporary illustrator’s redraw in 2017).

Although founder and editor-in-chief Harold Ross set the tone for the magazine in the first issue, famously proclaiming “that it is not edited for the old lady in Dubuque,” it was Irvin that gave the magazine a signature look that set it apart from other “smart set” periodicals of the day.

It took a few issues for the editors to sort out regular features and their order of appearance. The opening section of Issue No. 1 featured the Irvin masthead—flanked by Eustace Tilley and the night owl—and Irvin’s distinctive typeface that would introduce “The Talk of Town” for many issues to come. However, in that first issue, “Of All Things” appeared under the masthead, followed by “Talk of the Town” which was (for the first and last time) under this banner:

As for Ross’s manifesto, it appeared at the end of “Of All Things,”…

…and “Talk” ended with this signature…

…In Defining New Yorker Humor, Judith Yaross Lee wrote that early readers of The New Yorker would have recognized the Van Bibber III persona “as a joke, a personification of Van Bibber cigarettes, whose ads targeted the devil-may-care, swagger young man about town all dressed up for the opening night. As an insiders view of the urban scene, Van Bibber’s accounts featured casual conversation—that is, talk.”

Van Bibber advertisement in Cosmopolitan, 1896.

The magazine’s very first cartoon was by Al Frueh

…and among the features that persisted through the years was “Profiles,” the first one featuring Giulio Gatti-Casazza (1869-1940), who served as Metropolitan Opera’s general manager for a record 27 seasons (1908-1935).

The profile featured this illustration by Miguel Covarrubias, the renowned Mexican painter, caricaturist, and illustrator, who was a frequent contributor to the early New Yorker.

“Goings On” also persists, sans the original artwork…

…the same goes for these sections…

…still others disappeared altogether…

…some would hang around for awhile…

…others for just a few issues…”The Hour Glass” featured brief vignettes of local personalities…

…such as the ever-fascinating antics of Jimmy Walker, who would soon be elected mayor…

…while “In Our Midst” detailed the comings and goings of other locals…

…including The New Yorker’s own Al Frueh.

“The Story of Manhattankind” was another short-lived feature. It offered drawings by Herb Roth and tongue-in-cheek accounts of early Manhattan life replete with cartoonish Indians and bumbling settlers. It is here where the magazine took its first of many shots at William Randolph Hearst, the perceived rival and publisher of Cosmopolitan (which was more of a literary magazine in 1925).

…other items that persisted through the early issues included “Lyrics from a Pekinese” by writer Arthur Gutterman, who was known for his silly poems…

…and this recurring column filler, “The Optimist”…a tired joke featured repeatedly in the first issues until Katharine Angell came on board and put an end to such nonsense…

…in those lean first months there was little advertising, making this back page ad seem out of place…

…since many of the early ads were small, signature ads for theatre and other diversions…

…the magazine also leaned heavily on full-page house ads to fill space…

…the one thing that has persisted to this day is the prominence of cartoonists and illustrators, although in the early issues some of the cartoons resembled those found in Punch, including this one by British graphic artist Alfred Leete, who was a regular contributor to such British magazines including Punch, the Strand Magazine and Tatler.

Also in the Punch style there were a number of “He-She” captioned cartoons, such as this Ethel Plummer cartoon of an “uncle” and a “flapper” looking at a theater bill for The Wages of Sin (most notably, Plummer was the first woman artist published in The New Yorker)…

Plummer was a noted artist/illustrator in her day, as was Wallace Morgan, who contributed this two-page spread, “The Bread Line”…

…this illustration by Eldon Kelley is notable for what it lacks…namely, clothing. Early New Yorker lore has it that Ross was somewhat puritanical, and shied away from suggestions of sex or nudity, but here it is in the first issue, what Michael Maslin refers to as “The New Yorker’s First Nipples.” 

…and before I go, I am wondering about The New Yorker’s first film critic, who signed his review “Will Hays Jr.” Is this the same Hays as in the “Hays Code?” I will investigate.

Next Time: A Century and a Decade…