Having a Ball

 Above: Beginning in 1934, the President’s Birthday Balls became annual fundraisers for polio research. The Waldorf-Astoria's 1936 event (left) featured dance bands, celebrities, and formal dress. At right, a 1934 "Toga Party" birthday with FDR's Cuff Link Gang, Washington D.C. (fdrlibrary.org)

President Franklin D. Roosevelt’s birthday was a cause for annual celebration throughout the country, where cities and towns both large and small used the occasion to raise money for polio research.

February 1, 1936 cover by Roger Duvoisin.

The Jan. 30, 1936 President’s Birthday Ball marked FDR’s 54th year, featuring celebrities, dances, and a national radio address. The Waldorf-Astoria hosted an event, as did the Central Park Casino, where E.B. White found the one-hundred-dollar price tag and the dress code a bit too rich for his tastes, but not too rich for Lucy Cotton Thomas Magraw, a Manhattan social climber who represented the “Spirit of Golden Prosperity” at the Casino event.

LIKE MOTHS TO FLAME…At left, debutantes mark FDR’s birthday fundraiser at the Waldorf-Astoria in the 1930s; at right, Lucy Cotton Thomas Magraw (1891–1948) was a chorus girl from Houston who appeared in several silent films, but was best known as a Manhattan social climber and for her marriages to a series of prominent men. (wwd.com/davidkfrasier.com)

FDR himself was diagnosed with polio in 1921, which left him paralyzed from the waist down. To counter the effects of the disease, Roosevelt explored the potential benefits of hydrotherapy, establishing a rehabilitation center at Warm Springs, Georgia. Proceeds from the charity balls went to Warm Springs until Roosevelt founded the National Foundation for Infantile Paralysis in 1938. Funds raised by the foundation supported the development of a vaccine by the 1950s.

A NIGHT OF MERRIMENT…Celebrations in CCC camps in honor of FDR’s birthday became annual events, such as the one at left (illustrated by Marshall Davis) that depicted various happenings at the 1936 President’s Birthday Dance in Biloxi, Mississippi; at right, actress Jean Harlow cutting FDR’s birthday cake at the Eastbay Birthday Ball in Oakland, CA, in 1934. (newdealstories.com/facebook.com)

“The Talk of the Town” noted the role of Carl M. Byoir, a pioneering publicist, in creating the buzz around the yearly birthday balls.

CAN YOU SPARE A DIME?…Clockwise, from top left, Carl Byoir created and organized one of the world’s largest public relations firms in 1930, and was a force behind making the FDR Birthday Balls a major national event; Eleanor Roosevelt cuts the cake at a Birthday Ball, Washington, D.C., Jan. 30, 1936; Margaret Lehand, personal secretary to President Roosevelt, holds up one of the 30,000 dimes received on the morning of Jan. 28, 1938 for FDR’s National Foundation for Infantile Paralysis, which would later become the March of Dimes. (Wikipedia)
COIN FOR A CAUSE…As we saw in the previous post, it was comedian Eddie Cantor who coined the phrase “March of Dimes” for the annual fundraiser for polio research. The phrase later became the official name of the National Foundation for Infantile Paralysis. (Facebook)

The Roosevelt Dime went into circulation in 1946, commemorating FDR’s role in inspiring the March of Dimes.

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Rap on Scrap

Poet and author Phyllis McGinley apparently had her fill of social occasions that included interminable, tedious viewings of the hosts’ scrapbooks, photo albums, and various tchotchkes.

SPARE ME YOUR VACATION SLIDES…Phyllis McKinley would have hated Facebook. (Wikipedia)

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Wise Guy

Henry F. Pringle published the first part of a three-part profile on Elihu Root, making much of the fact that Root (1845–1937) was still kicking at ninety after a lifetime of public service including two stints as Secretary of War and serving as Secretary of State under President Theodore Roosevelt. Unofficially, he advised a number of presidents and other leaders on foreign and domestic issues, giving him the imprimatur of a political “wise man.” A brief excerpt (with caricature by William Cotton):

WAR BUDDIES…U.S. Secretary of War Elihu Root (right) and his successor, William Howard Taft, c. 1904. Taft was elected U.S. President in 1908, and in 1912 Root would receive the Nobel Peace Prize. (Wikipedia)

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Devastating Irony

According to critic Robert Benchley, the adaptation of Edith Wharton’s novel Ethan Frome to the stage required a precise hand, and apparently director Max Gordon delivered when it opened at the National Theatre. Excerpt:

EDITH WHARTON WOULD HAVE BEEN PROUD, according to Robert Benchley, of the stage adaptation of Ethan Frome. The cast, from left, included Pauline Lord, Raymond Massey, and Ruth Gordon. Benchley would have been well acquainted with Gordon, who was a familiar face at the Algonquin Round Table. (Facebook)

Benchley praised the performances of the principal actors Pauline Lord, Raymond Massey, and Ruth Gordon.

IN FINE FORM…Pauline Lord, Raymond Massey, and Ruth Gordon in a publicity still for Ethan Frome. (witness2fashion.com)

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At the Movies

We take to the air with Howard Hawks’ Ceiling Zero, which featured an odd mix of screwball dialogue and nerve-wracking flight scenes. Critic John Mosher found the film to be well done, even though most of its action took place on the ground.

GROUNDED…Shot a shoestring budget, Warner Brothers’ Ceiling Zero, directed by Howard Hawks, staged most of the action at an airline’s headquarters rather than up in the air. From left are Pat O’Brien, James Cagney, and June Travis. (Harvard Film Archive)

Mosher was also happy to welcome Myrna Loy back to the silver screen in the “agreeable” Whipsaw.

HUSTLE AND BUSTLE…Myrna Loy and Spencer Tracy starred in action-packed crime drama Whipsaw. (Letterboxd.com)

Mosher was at a loss to explain the popularity of comedian Joe Penner, whose presence in the film Collegiate inspired impatient “mobs” to crash the windows and doors of the Paramount Theatre.

INCONSEQUENTIAL was the word John Mosher used to describe Collegiate. Clockwise, from top left, Frances Langford and Jack Oakie in a scene from Collegiate—Oakie played a man who inherits an all-girls school from his aunt; Betty Grable with Joe Penner; Grable shows off her school spirit and her famous legs in a publicity photo. (rottentomatoes.com/imdb.com)

About Joe Penner (1904–1941): Broadcast historian Elizabeth McLeod sums up Penner’s popularity as “the ultimate Depression-era zany.” Mostly forgotten today, Penner was a national craze in the mid-1930s. “There is no deep social meaning in his comedy, no shades of subtlety,” writes McLeod, “just utter slapstick foolishness, delivered in an endearingly simpering style that’s the closest thing the 1930s had to Pee-wee Herman.”

WANNA BUY A DUCK? was Joe Penner’s catchphrase. Born József Pintér in what is now Serbia, he is shown here with his ubiquitous duck, Goo Goo. According to historian Elizabeth McLeod, Penner was doomed to an early decline by the sheer repetitiveness of his format. He died in his sleep, of a heart attack, at age 36. (imdb.com)

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Something Completely Different

We go from Joe Penner to George Santayana, who finished the six-hundred-page The Last Puritan after laboring on the novel for fifteen years. A brief excerpt from a Clifton Fadiman review:

WHEN WRITERS MADE THE COVER…George Santayana on the cover of Time, Feb. 3, 1936. (Time.com)

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From Our Advertisers

The folks at Hormel continued their ad series pairing Hormel French Style onion soup with notable historic figures…apparently Mary, Queen of Scots was honored with some onion soup when she married the Dauphin in 1558…nearly three decades later she would lose her head under the reign of Elizabeth I

…the opening spread of the magazine sometimes offered odd juxtapositions…

…and what was this obsession with peas?…last week (and previous weeks) the makers of Green Giant canned foods featured a “Major” obsessed with fresh peas…

…in this issue, the folks at Birds Eye presented frozen peas as a fresher alternative to canned…the ad featured their own version of a “Major,” here sharing the wonderful news about frozen peas with his cronies…

…Capitol Theatre predicted that their latest feature, Rose Marie, would be even better than Naughty Marietta

…and apparently it was…

WHEN I’M CALLING YOOOOUUUU…The Capitol Theatre’s prediction came true—Rose Marie was a big hit, as was the duet “Indian Love Call” (it remained a signature song for both actors); at left, Nelson Eddy and Jeanette MacDonald in Rose Marie; at right, Eddy and MacDonald in 1935’s Naughty Marietta. “America’s Singing Sweethearts” made eight films together. (MGM)

…only forty hours to paradise, claimed this ad on the inside back cover…

…and on the back cover, readers were greeted by a smug, almost withering look—a fashionable woman striking a pose, one that was doubtless imitated by many in the smart set who would soon realize they were hopelessly addicted to nicotine…

…on to our cartoonists, we begin with Al Frueh and his topless tribute to George White’s Scandals

Gregory d’Alessio drew up this trio—endomorph, mesomorph, ectomorph—for the opening pages…

…here’s a spot by Robert Day, dreaming of warmer climes…

…we join Charles Addams at the Louvre…

…and on a desert island…

…a rather strange entry by Alice Harvey, with the longest caption I’ve come across so far…

…we join William Steig’s “Small Fry” during a school day, beginning on page 24…

…and continuing onto page 25…

…here is how it originally appeared…

…In 1935, Saks Fifth Avenue installed an indoor ski slope on the men’s floor of its New York City flagship store, here illustrated by Perry Barlow

IT WAS A THING…Ski slope inside Saks Fifth Avenue, New York, 1935. (CNN.com)

…department stores such as Macy’s often featured model homes in their household departments…Alan Dunn added a bit of color, or rather, soot, to this one…

Helen Hokinson looked for answers at a book shop…

and Hokinson again, doing a bit of home decorating…

…it appears Morton was displaying a copy of Constantin Brancusi’s Princess X…

(sheldonartmuseum.org)

Barbara Shermund engaged in some light banter at a cocktail party…

…and we close with a surprise visit from William Crawford Galbraith

Next Time: The New Ziegfeld…

 

Magnificently Obsessed

Above: Irene Dunn gets her head examined by Parisian doctors during a scene from the 1935 melodrama Magnificent Obsession. (letterboxd.com)

I can’t think of a better time to escape the world for a few moments and indulge in a bit of frivolity. In this case we take a brief look at a popular film that pushed the envelope of plausibility in true Hollywood style.

January 11, 1936 cover by Helen Hokinson.

Magnificent Obsession featured two of Tinseltown’s leading stars, Irene Dunn and Robert Taylor. Although many critics have called the film’s plot preposterous, it was a fan favorite—at the Radio City Music Hall premiere on Dec. 30, 1935, capacity crowds braved sub-zero weather to see it.

For a film that has been debated and discussed for decades (and remade to some acclaim in 1954 by director Douglas Sirk with Jane Wyman and Rock Hudson in the leads), critic John Mosher barely gave it a glance, feeling sorry for Dunne in her role as a tragically blinded widow.

MAGNIFICENT HAPPENSTANCE…In Magnificent Obsession, Robert Taylor played a spoiled playboy, Robert Merrick, who survives a boating accident at the expense of kindly doctor. Clockwise from top left, Taylor in a scene with Margaret Brayton; Taylor and Irene Dunn in the scene where Dunne’s character, Helen Hudson, is struck by a car and blinded; Dunn with child actor Cora Susan Collins (who incidentally passed away in April 2025 at age 98); the end of the film emphasized Merrick’s transformation from a selfish playboy into a selfless, Nobel Prize-winning man of faith and science. (roberttayloractor.blog/mubi.com/rottentomatoes.com/Facebook)

A brief synopsis: Wealthy playboy Robert Merrick (Robert Taylor) drunkenly capsizes his boat. A hospital’s only pulmotor saves his life at the expense of a beloved surgeon who dies without it. Merrick falls in love with the surgeon’s widow, Helen (Irene Dunn). While driving Helen home he makes a pass at her; she exits the car and is struck by another, losing her eyesight. Merrick conceals his identity while watching over Helen; he then follows her to Paris, where she learns her sight is gone forever. Merrick reveals his identity and proposes. Helen flees. Six years later Merrick, now a Nobel Prize-winning brain surgeon, restores Helen’s sight.

In the film’s defense, plots that stretch credibility have been around since the Greeks and deus ex machina, and consider how many films today employ “portals” of various types to get heroes out of sticky situations. Unless you’re talking about a Werner Herzog film, it’s all make believe.

HANDS OFF…John Mosher had particular scorn for the way beloved character actor Charles Butterworth (left) was used in the film. Along with Dunn, Butterworth was another “victim” of Magnificent Obsession, according to Mosher. (IMDB)

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A Lot On His Mind

E.B. White had a lot to say in his Jan. 11 “Notes and Comment,” beginning with a paragraph about the impending merger of two Condé Nast publications, Vanity Fair and Vogue. The old Vanity Fair magazine, published from 1913 to 1936, was a casualty of the Great Depression, and it essentially disappeared with the merger (Condé Nast revived the title in 1983).

FADE OUT…At left, Bali Beauty by Miguel Covarrubias, on the cover of the final issue of the old Vanity Fair magazine, February 1936. Publisher Condé Nast merged VF with Vogue beginning with its March 1, 1936 issue (at right). The New Yorker, once considered a competitor of the old Vanity Fair, was itself acquired by Condé Nast in 1985. (vanity fair.com/vogue.com)

White also commented on a new book, The Ruling Clawss, which criticized The New Yorker for its “bourgeois attitude.” Interestingly, the book was produced by none other than New Yorker cartoonist Syd Hoff, who wrote and illustrated The Ruling Clawss as “A. Redfield,” a pseudonym he used in the 1930s for his contributions to The Daily Worker and other leftist causes.

HOFF IN A HUFF…Cover of the 1935 edition of The Ruling Clawss; frontispiece from a 2023 reprint of the book by The New York Review of Books. Syd Hoff (1912–2004) contributed 571 cartoons to The New Yorker between 1931 and 1975. Hoff also drew cartoons for The Daily Worker under the pseudonym “A. Redfield.” (abebooks.com/nyrb.com)

In The Ruling Clawss, Hoff (as Redfield) criticized “bourgeois humor” as an opiate of the masses, citing The New Yorker, Esquire, Judge, and Life as publications that take “the banker boys and politicians, who are the rapers of liberty and democracy,” and present them between perfume ads in whimsical situations. The bourgeoisie makes itself look human, wrote Hoff, “By exposing itself in the boudoir, or the night club, doing foolish things or saying something ‘funny’…In other words, the fascists and warmongers are little lambs who do their parts in contributing to the merriment of a nation.”

Referring to his fellow cartoonists, Hoff concluded: “the Arnos, Soglows, Benchleys and Cantors…are all talented and funny, but…and here, I believe, is the point…their comedy is all too often a whitewash for people and conditions that, in reality, are not funny.”

NO LAUGHING MATTER…Examples of Syd Hoff’s cartoons in The Ruling Clawss. (nyrb.com)

Today Hoff is probably best remembered for his children’s books, especially Danny and the Dinosaur. You can read all about his work at this website.

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A Different Kind of Hoff

We move on to another Hoff, namely Mardee Hoff, who was “ungrammatically selected” by the American Society of Illustrators as the possessor of the “most perfect figure in America.” Here is an excerpt from “The Talk of the Town.”

HER BODY OF WORK…Mardee Hoff (1914–2004) possessed the best body shape in America, according to the American Society of Illustrators following a contest involving 2,600 women at New York’s Commodore Hotel. At left, Hoff on the cover of Life, Oct. 21, 1940. At right, circa 1936. (findagrave.com/Reddit)

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Life With Clarence

“The Talk of the Town” noted the passing of beloved author and cartoonist Clarence Day in a lengthy tribute that highlighted his remarkable output despite crippling arthritis. Excerpts:

GOOD OLD DAYS…Clarence Day (1874–1935) developed crippling arthritis as a young adult, and spent the remainder of his life as a semi-invalid. Nevertheless, he churned out more than a dozen books, most famously Life With Father, a collection of stories from The New Yorker that were published in book form shortly after Day’s death. The New Yorker continued to publish Day’s stories through August 1937. Above, Day, circa 1920, and a first edition of Life With Father. Below, scene from the 1947 comedy film by the same name featuring William Powell, Irene Dunn, and Elizabeth Taylor. (Wikipedia/abebooks.com/IMDB)

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At the Movies
In addition to Magnificent Obsession, John Mosher endured screenings of several other pictures he could not recommend, despite featuring “talented and delightful people”…

…Mosher thought the best thing about mezzo-soprano Gladys Swarthout in Rose of the Rancho was her, um, feet…

SINGING BANDIT…Gladys Swarthout, a popular Metropolitan Opera mezzo-soprano, portrayed the daughter of landowner besieged by outlaws in Rose of the Rancho. In the film she disguises herself as a man (right) and organizes a band of vigilantes to fight the outlaws. The film was one of five produced by Paramount in the 1930s featuring Swarthout. (IMDB/swarthoutfamily.org)

…and he was frankly mystified by the Soviet Russian film Frontier, featuring lots of beards, collective farms, and a big display of airplanes at the finale…

FOR THE FATHERLAND…At left, Aleksandr Dovzhenko directs the Soviet film Frontier (aka Aerograd), about a remote Siberian outpost that comes under threat of attack by the Japanese. At right, Sergey Stolyarov portrayed the pilot Vladimir Glushak, who was filled with wondrous tales about the new city of Aerograd. The film was commissioned by Joseph Stalin. (IMDB/kinorium.com)
…English actress, dancer and singer Jessie Matthews (1907–1981) also wore the pants in First a Girl, a comedy adapted from the 1933 German film Viktor und Viktoria (which was remade as Victor/Victoria in 1982 with Julie Andrews)…
SHE/HE…At left, Jessie Matthews in First a Girl, a comedy adapted from the 1933 German film Viktor und Viktoria; right top, Matthews with Sonny Hale; and, at bottom, with Griffith Jones. Mosher called the film a “dreary affair.” (IMDB/interwarlondon.com)
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All Aboard
During the 1930s “Snow Trains” carried skiers from Manhattan to the Catskills, the Berkshires and other destinations. Railroads offered travel packages that helped popularize downhill skiing before World War II. Excerpts:

POLAR EXPRESS…A Snow Train arrives at Thendara Station full of skiers headed for the slopes and winter activities in Old Forge. Circa late 1930s. (northcountryatwork.org)

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From Our Advertisers

We take wing with Bergdorf Goodman’s stylish “Trinidad Clipper suit…

…the folks at Nash took out the center spread to tout their inexpensive yet distinguished Ambassador…

…apparently it was distinguished enough for these toffs…

…by contrast, a more spare, minimal style is seen in this ad for Schaefer beer…

…and in this ad for Bloomingdale’s…this was tricky to reproduce, the lightness of the compass against all that black ink…

…here’s a new marketing ploy from R.J. Reynolds…smoke a half a pack of their Camels, and then send back the rest if you don’t like them…I’m guessing most folks finished them off…

…Liggett & Myers kept it simple, equating smoke in your lungs with clean, crisp winter air…

…on to our cartoonists, we begin with spots by Gregory d’Alessio

Daniel “Alain” Brustlein

and Christina Malman

Leonard Dove looked in on an owly patient…

Alain again, seeking an elusive promotion…

…the stages of love and marriage, per George Price

Helen Hokinson reconvened her ladies club…

Barbara Shermund discussed politics…

Mary Petty considered the price of great art…

…and Petty again, at the dress shop…

Robert Day illustrated the benefits of “how to” books…

…and we run off with James Thurber...

Next Time: A Profile in the Paint…

 

The Wahoo Boy

Darryl F. Zanuck (1902–1979) was an unlikely Hollywood mogul. Born in a small Nebraska town with an unusual name (both his and the town), Zanuck dropped out of school in the eighth grade, apparently bitten by the acting bug during a brief childhood sojourn in Los Angeles.

Nov. 10, 1934 cover by Constantin Alajalov.

In the first part of a two-part profile, Alva Johnston began to probe the mystery of the boy from Wahoo who would rise to become one of Hollywood’s most powerful studio executives.

MAKING OF A MOGUL…Clockwise, from top left: Darryl F. Zanuck relaxing with trophies from his hunting excursions, circa 1940 (detail from a Margaret Bourke-White photo); Zanuck’s home town, Wahoo, Nebraska, 1920s; screenshot from a trailer for The Grapes of Wrath, 1940; Zanuck with child star Shirley Temple (left) and his first-born daughter Darrylin (mother was silent-screen actress Virginia Fox) in the 1930s. (Robin Pineda Zanuck via The Hollywood Reporter/Saunders County Historical Society/Wikipedia)

Johnston took a quick look at Zanuck’s humble origins, including his first encounter with the film industry at age eight. There must have been something in the water at Wahoo, a town of just 2,100 residents when Zanuck was born. Other Wahoo notables contemporary to Zanuck included Nobel Prize laureate and geneticist George Beadle, Pulitzer Prize–winning composer Howard Hanson, and Hall of Fame baseball player Sam Crawford, among others.

After writing dozens of scripts for Warner Brothers (including many for their popular canine star, Rin Tin Tin), in 1933 Zanuck would leave Warner and form 20th Century Pictures with Joseph Schenck. By the time Johnston penned the New Yorker profile, 20th Century had risen to be the most successful independent movie studio of its time.

 * * *

One-Way Street

It goes without saying that the interwar years of the 20th century were a time of extreme foment; Bolsheviks, communists, anarchists, fascists and other political agitators seemed to be constantly at each other’s throats as Europe prepared for its second act of self-annihilation. In the middle of it all was the Balkans, its many feuds always simmering near the boiling point.

After the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand in 1914 (which, along with other factors, triggered World War I), you would have thought Europeans would have abandoned the practice of parading dignitaries through crowded streets. In 1934 they were reminded of its risks.

That year was King Alexander I of Yugoslavia’s thirteenth on the throne, but his time was running short in a country constantly beset by civil war. Fearing that the German Nazis and Italian Fascists would take advantage of the instability, on Oct. 9, 1934 French Foreign Minister Louis Barthou invited Alexander I to Marseille to sign a Franco-Yugoslav solidarity agreement. While Alexander and Barthou were being slowly driven in an open car through the city’s streets, a Bulgarian gunman, Vlado Chernozemski, stepped from the crowd, hopped onto the car’s running board, and shot Alexander along with his chauffeur. Barthou also died in the melee, killed by a stray bullet fired by French police (three women and a boy in the crowd were also fatally wounded by stray police bullets). Struck down by a policeman’s sword, Chernozemski was subsequently beaten to death by the enraged crowd. It was one of the first assassinations to be captured on film.

Paris correspondent Janet Flanner offered some thoughts about the incident in her “Paris Letter.” Excerpt:

WHAT A DIFFERENCE A DAY MAKES…King Alexander I of Yugoslavia (left) and French Foreign Minister Louis Barthou just moments before an assassin fired two fatal shots into the king. Barthou would die an hour later from a stray police bullet that would enter his arm and sever an artery. (Still image from YouTube video)

 * * *

The Traffic Machine

In his “A Reporter at Large” column, Morris Markey sang praises for the Triborough Bridge project, which was making visible progress on the massive public work that commenced in 1930. City officials had dreamed for years about a project that would at once connect Manhattan, Queens and the Bronx, but it wasn’t until the power broker Robert Moses got involved as the Triborough Bridge and Tunnel Authority chairman that things really started to move. Moses biographer Robert Caro wrote that “Triborough was not a bridge so much as a traffic machine, the largest ever built.” A brief excerpt:

As noted by Markey, the “people in charge” were forthright about the bridge’s completion date of July 1, 1936. And they kept their word. The bridge was substantially complete by June 1936, and would be dedicated on July 11, with Moses serving as master of ceremonies.

MAKE WAY FOR THE GIANTS…City engineers had been kicking around plans since 1916 to build bridges to connect Manhattan, Queens and the Bronx, but the massive Triborough Bridge project finally got off the ground in 1930. By 1934 the bridge’s Queens tower (left) would loom over Ward’s Island, visible in the background; at right, views of buildings in Astoria (Hoyt Ave.) that were slated for demolition to make way for the bridge, photographed by Eugene de Salignac in early 1931. (MTA Bridges and Tunnels Special Archives/NYC Municipal Archives)

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From Our Advertisers

The common zipper was a relatively new invention in 1934. It had been more or less perfected by 1920, and in 1923 the B. F. Goodrich Company would coin the onomatopoetic word to describe the newfangled fastener on its galoshes, but it would take a while for the fashion industry to adopt the zipper as a replacement for buttons on garments, including men’s trousers. And so we get this staid-looking ad from Wetzel that signaled its entry into the brave new world of zippers (Talon was the dominant U.S. producer of zippers for many years)…

…this next ad is kind of amazing, a 1935 Auburn for only $695, which roughly translates to $15,000 or so today—still a bargain…known for cars that were fast, good-looking and expensive (and favored by Hollywood elite), Auburn struggled mightily during the Depression…along with its sister marques Duesenberg and Cord, the company would fold in 1937…

…during Prohibition distillers were allowed to keep stocks of whiskies produced before the 18th Amendment went into force…some of these were distributed through pharmacies during Prohibition for “medicinal purposes”…what was left over was sold after repeal, a stock of “pre-prohibition casks” that would be exhausted before Christmas, or so the ad rather alarmingly suggested…

…we first met tennis star Ellsworth Vines Jr a few issues ago when he was touting the health and energy benefits of Camel cigarettes…here he promotes an unlikely “stimulant”—Pabst Blue Ribbon ale…Vines testified that “the demand for more and more speed in sports calls for a finer and finer ‘edge’ of physical condition” and observed that PBR was “a great preventive of overtraining and staleness”…yep, after a few brewskies who feels like doing anything, let alone play tennis?…

…on to our cartoonists we open with a couple of spots by George Shellhase

…and Gregory d’Alessio

William Crawford Galbraith gave us a fish out of water (the caption reads: You New Yorkers didn’t know we were so sophisticated in Detroit, did you?)…

George Price still hadn’t come back to earth in his latest installment…

Gardner Rea illustrated the results of charitable acts by the Junior League…

…and we close with James Thurber, and kindness from a stranger…

Next Time: Portraits and Prayers…

Art of the Machine

Above, at left, self-aligning ball bearing from SKF Industries, featured in MoMA's 1934 Exhibition of Machine Art; at right, judges for the exhibit were aviator Amelia Earhart and professors John Dewey and Charles R. Richards, holding first, second and third prizes, respectively. (MoMA)

The notion that machine-made objects have aesthetic value has been with us for some time, dating back to avant-garde movements of the early 20th century such as Futurism, which influenced other schools, including the Bauhaus and De Stijl. However, the idea that a museum would display a propeller or a vacuum cleaner as a work of art was startling to many in 1934.

March 17, 1934 cover by Rea Irvin.

It had been a little over twenty years since New York art patrons experienced their first shock of the new at the 1913 Armory Show. By 1929 the city had established the Museum of Modern Art, which opened the exhibition Machine Art on March 5, 1934, at MoMA’s second location—the old Barbour mansion at 11 West 53rd Street (razed in the late 1930s and replaced by today’s museum).

Novelist and art critic Robert M. Coates (1897–1973) paid a visit to the Machine Art exhibition and wrote of the experience in “The Talk of the Town.” Coates was no stranger to the avant garde, having himself embraced literary innovation and experimentation as a novelist. James Thurber is credited with bringing Coates to The New Yorker in 1927—the two became close friends—and Coates would stay forty years with the magazine. Excerpts:

EXTRAORDINARY ORDINARY…Clockwise, from top left: According to MoMA director Alfred H. Barr, Jr, the 1934 Machine Art exhibition celebrated the machine’s abstract and geometric beauty; MoMA found its second home—the Barbour mansion at 11 West 53rd Street—in 1932; sign on West 53rd advertising the exhibition; outboard propeller by Aluminum Company of America (Alcoa); collection of scientific beakers and flasks from Corning Glass Works. (MoMA)
KA-CHING!…Machine Art featured Model 1934 from National Cash Register; at right, Electrochef range, model B-2, designed by Emil Piron for Electromaster Inc. Objects featured in the exhibition were selected by noted architect Phillip Johnson, who was the founding chairman (1932-34) of the museum’s Department of Architecture. (MoMA)
IN A NEW LIGHT…Springs and wires took on new perspectives at the Machine Art exhibition. From left, the apparent first-prize winner (based on the photo of Earhart at the top of this entry)—a section of a large spring; cross-section of wire rope; and typewriter carriage and motor springs, all produced by American Steel & Wire Company, a subsidiary of US Steel. (MoMA)

* * *

Salad Days

Swiss-American restaurateur Oscar Tschirky (1866-1943), who was known throughout the world as Oscar of the Waldorf, worked as maître d’hôtel of the Waldorf Astoria in New York City from 1893 to 1943. He is credited with having created the Waldorf salad, along with any number of cocktail recipes. “The Talk of the Town” noted his latest concoction:

WINNING OSCAR…From 1893 to 1943 Oscar Tschirky was the Waldorf-Astoria’s public face and a gracious host who made both the great and the not-so-great feel welcome. At left, in 1923; at right, Tschirky samples the first shipment of beer to arrive at the Waldorf-Astoria when the brew became legal again in April 1933. (Library of Congress/Karl Schriftgiesser)

 * * *

Unburdened

In the March 17 issue, writer and poet Langston Hughes (1901–1967) published the first of three fiction pieces that would appear in The New Yorker (one posthumously in 2016). In the short story “Why, You Reckon,” Hughes tells the tale of two hungry Black men who rob a rich white man by pushing him into a basement coal bin—one of the Black men takes the white man’s money, jewelry, shoes and overcoat, then rushes off, leaving his companion without any of the loot. To the companion’s surprise and befuddlement, the white man is left excited by the incident, because it is the first real thing that has happened to him. Here are the final lines of the story:

HARLEM RENAISSANCE LEADER Langston Hughes in a 1936 photo by Carl Van Vechten. A prolific writer and poet, Hughes published three short stories and three poems in The New Yorker.  (Wikipedia)

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New Yorker ad sales were booming, and blooming with color…we kick it off with this ad from Coty touting “3 New Boxes for Face Powder!”…so why are there four boxes in the ad?…

…the obvious answer to the question posed below would be “wealth and privilege…and youth”…the “Eleanor Roosevelt” featured in this Pond’s ad is obviously not the wife of FDR, but rather Eleanor Katherine Roosevelt, the teenaged daughter of Assistant Secretary of the Navy Henry Latrobe Roosevelt

…speaking of the high seas, I have to admit I sigh a little when I see ads like this, obviously staged, but suggest a style of travel that is as extinct as the T. Rex…

…perhaps those folks on the boat were enjoying a splash of Perrier in their evening cocktails…

…or maybe the domestic White Rock was on ice…why is the rich old coot so much shorter than his wife?…I guess it emphasizes her relative youthfulness and her maternal obligations to a child-like older man…

…their proportions are similar to Jiggs and Maggie, but that’s another story…

…R.J. Reynolds was back with their “jangled nerves” theme on behalf of Camel cigarettes…

…maybe your tires will hold, but have you checked your brakes lately?…

…in the 1930s the anti-war organization World Peaceways ran a series of provoking ads on the artificial glories of war…some magazines, including The New Yorker, ran these ads free of charge or at reduced rates…

…a closer view of the explanatory copy at the bottom of the ad…

…speaking of war, James Thurber opens our cartoons on a Connecticut battlefield…

Al Frueh contributed this illustration for a two-part profile of entertainer and theatrical producer George M. Cohan

Alain (Daniel Brustlein) offered this spot art for the opening calendar section…

Peter Arno gave us two fellows on thin ice…

…cartoonist Gregory d’Alessio made his first appearance in The New Yorker

Barbara Shermund was back with some tax advice…

…which this gentleman (by Alain) might have found useful…

…and we close with Mary Petty, and a little brown-noser with a taste for greens…

Next Time: Through the Looking Glass…