Saving The Row

Above: Washington Square North circa 1930. (nypap.org)

In the first decades of the 20th century very few buildings in New York City were considered sacred, especially during the building boom of the Twenties when large swaths of the old city were erased to make way for massive skyscrapers and more than 740,000 new housing units.

May 9, 1936 cover by Constantin Alajalov.

To keep anything historic from the wrecking ball required constant vigilance as well as political savvy. Such was the case at Washington Square, where in response to a 27-story building erected at 1 Fifth Avenue a campaign was organized to create height limits around the square itself. The land for 1 Fifth Avenue was leased by Sailors’ Snug Harbor—a foundation dedicated to assisting retired mariners and one of the largest owners of land in Greenwich Village. The threat to Washington Square became even greater in 1936 when the same foundation announced plans to demolish several of the structures facing the north side of Washington Square, known as “The Row.” In his “Notes and Comment,” E.B.White explained:

INTERLOPER…The Sailors’ Snug Harbor Foundation had already altered the scale of Washington Square with the erection of 1 Fifth Avenue (1926-27), seen to the right of the arch in the bottom photo (by Berenice Abbott, 1936); above left, facade of Sailors’ Snug Harbor Foundation building as it appears today (inset: the foundation’s monogram set within the spandrels of the arched windows); top right, looking west down Washington Square North, 1937. (daytoninmanhattan.blogspot.com/geographicguide.com)

Fortunately the demolition did not proceed, with Sailors’ Snug Harbor deciding to retain the character of “The Row”—numbers 1-13 Washington Square North. Not so fortunate were the adjacent Rhinelander Houses that were demolished in the mid-1940s, and “Genius Row” on Washington Square South, which was demolished in 1948 to make room for the NYU Law Center.

NOT SO FORTUNATE…The Rhinelander Houses at Washington Square North (top photo, from 1922) were demolished in 1951 to make way for an apartment house; photo below, the “Genius Row” on Washington Square South was demolished in 1948 to make room for the NYU Law Center. Occupants of Genius Row included writers Stephen Crane, O. Henry, and Willa Cather. (nypl.org/Village Preservation–GVSHP)

Beginning in the 1940s, Parks Commissioner Robert Moses would try many times to ram a highway through Washington Square Park, including a proposal in the early 1950s (below) that would bisect the park with a 48-foot-wide highway connecting Fifth Avenue to West Broadway.

PAVING PARADISE…Opposition was so great to Robert Moses’s Washington Square proposals that he finally abandoned plans for a highway through the park. (MTA Archives)

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Farewell Artie

Legendary conductor Arturo Toscanini (1867–1957) transformed the New York Philharmonic into a world-class ensemble during his stint as music director from 1928 to 1936. Unfortunately, his stellar career with the Philharmonic ended rather ignominiously: When the Maestro turned to take a bow at the conclusion of his Carnegie Hall farewell concert, a young photographer exploded a flash bulb directly in his face, causing the great conductor to flee the stage. E.B. White was there to take it all in:

I SAW THE LIGHT…a photographer’s flash temporarily blinded legendary conductor Arturo Toscanini (top) following his farewell concert at Carnegie Hall. Below, a ticket stub from the historic evening. Five bucks seems like a bargain, but it is roughly equivalent to nearly $120 today. (wfimc.org/carnegiehall.org)

The New Yorker’s music critic Robert A. Simon also shared some thoughts on the evening, which included a scuffle between a “hatless fellow” and another fellow (also hatless) that followed the photographer incident:

PLEASE BEHAVE…A view from the Carnegie Hall stage in 1930. Following Arturo Toscanini’s farewell concert in 1936, a scuffle broke out in the lobby, the result of a row over the temporary blinding of the Maestro by a photographer’s flash bulb. (nypap.org)

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Lah-Dee-Dy

“The Talk of the Town” looked into the fuss over the toy industry’s first practical “drink-and-wet” baby doll, Effanbee’s Dy-Dee doll. Marketed as “The Almost Human Doll”, the “Talk” correspondents (Helen and Charles Cooke) found a demonstration at Macy’s a bit too real (included with this excerpt is spot art by Abe Birnbaum).

UNCANNY…The Effanbee Doll Company marketed their “Almost Human” Dy-Dee doll as the first workable “drink-and-wet” baby doll. The doll was designed by German-born Bernard Lipfert (1886–1974), who sculpted dolls for prominent American toy manufacturers from the 1920s to the 1960s, including the famous Patsy and Shirley Temple dolls. (collectornet.net/Linda Lipfert White via catskilldolls.com)

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At the Movies

Many film critics in the 1930s, including The New Yorker’s John Mosher, admired the Soviet film industry for its cinematic innovations and often brutal realism, even if deployed as propaganda. Such was the case with We Are From Kronstadt, which depicted heroic Red sailors defending the city of Petrograd from counterrevolutionary forces. “It’s a film to be respected,” Mosher wrote.

NO BLONDES, JUST BOMBSHELLS…Clockwise from top left: Russian poster for We Are From Kronstadt; actor Georgi Bushuyev; battle scene from the film; actress Raisa Yesipova. (Wikipedia/imdb.com)

Mosher also reviewed the lighter fare coming out of Hollywood, including two films featuring the actress Joan Bennett.

SEEING DOUBLE…Joan Bennett shared top billing in two new releases—with Cary Grant in Big Brown Eyes (left); and with Fred MacMurray in 13 Hours by Air (top right); Claudette Colbert was paired with Ronald Colman in Under Two Flags (below). (csfd.cz/imdb.com)
WET AND COLD…Bette Davis and George Brent went through the motions in The Golden Arrow (left); at right, Rochelle Hudson and Alan Hale braved the wilds of Canada in The Country Beyond. Hale was the father of Alan Hale Jr., who was also a film actor but is best known today for playing the Skipper on TV’s Gilligan’s Island. (pinterest.com/20th Century Fox)

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Swing Time

Ninety years ago America’s youth primarily listened to (and danced to) swing music and big band jazz. The New Yorker kept readers up to date on the latest hits.

RHYTHM SECTION…”The Ol’ Perfessor” Kay Kyser’s band (the “Kollege of Musical Knowledge”) kept the kids in rhythm in the 1930s; at right, Benny Goodman (left) and Gene Krupa both released records with some new “swings.” (jimramsburg.com/grampsblog.wordpress.com)

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From Our Advertisers

The makers of Packard automobiles were big into the idea of continuity, emphasizing the quality and longevity of their product over gimmicky style changes…

…in the mid-1930s (and especially in 1936) Chrysler employed the comedic talents of Ed Wynn to sell its low-priced Plymouths…

…the makers of Fisher car bodies (a division of General Motors) continued their campaign of two-page ads pairing cute kids with their “Turret Top” safety feature…

…canned beer was a recent innovation in 1936, with New York breweries leading the way (Krueger Brewing Company was first, its canned beer officially debuting in January 1935)…

…the French Line enticed New Yorkers to see Paris in the springtime…

…Harper’s ran this ad on the top left corner of page 95 to promote Robert Benchley’s My Ten Years in a Quandary…and How They Grew, illustrated by Benchley’s New Yorker colleague Gluyas Williams

BENCHLEY IN A BIND…Robert Benchley and the cover of My Ten Years in a Quandary…and How They Grew. (ebay.com/ebooktakeaway.com)

…on to our cartoonists, we begin with Richard Taylor in the calendar section…

…and a nice bit of spot art by Christina Malman

Alan Dunn revealed a time tunnel under the Hudson…

Rea Irvin drew up an odd sight along a garden path…

…this honeymoon was over before it even started, per Peter Arno

Alain showed us the troubled dreams of a jailbird…

Charles Addams at his best, taking the daily horrors in stride…

James Thurber gave us a Gish, but not of silent movie fame…

Helen Hokinson illustrated a day at the radio station across pages 22-23…

…Hokinson again, weighing the competition between a sofa and table…

…and we close with Kemp Starrett, and a helpful husband…

Next Time: Farewell to a Flivver…