Above: The Cat and the Fiddle (Pete Gordon) and Mickey Mouse (a monkey in a very creepy costume) were featured in 1934's Babes In Toyland.
We close out the old year and ring in the new with a bit of song and dance from three musicals that entertained New Yorkers in the waning days of 1934.
Dec. 22, 1934 cover by Arnold Hall.
The work of composer Jerome Kern and lyricist Oscar Hammerstein II were prominent in two of those films, adapted from successful Broadway productions—the romantic comedy Music in the Air and the sentimental Sweet Adeline. Success on the stage did not necessarily translate to the screen in either case, according to critic John Mosher.
SOUR NOTES…The famed silent movie star Gloria Swanson showed off her singing chops in Music in the Air, but it wasn’t enough to save the film from becoming a box office failure. The film centered on the stormy relationship between opera star Frieda Hotzfelt (Swanson) and librettist Bruno Mahler (John Boles, pictured). (TCM)TALL ORDER…For those who recalled Helen Morgan’s tragedy-tinged Broadway performance as Addie in Sweet Adeline, Irene Dunn’s more comical take, although delivered with authority, could not hold up the pallid performances of her co-stars, including Donald Woods, right. (TCM)
And there was Babes in Toyland, a Hal Roach film headlined by the comedy duo Stan Laurel and Oliver Hardy. The film was well received by critics, including Mosher, who wrote that Babes in Toyland “was far more successful than [1933’s] Alice in Wonderland, and the children will probably be far less bored by it than they generally are by those films designed especially for them.” However, similar to Alice the costumes seem creepily crude, such as the weird rubber pig costumes and the almost terrifying Mickey Mouse, portrayed by a hapless monkey dressed to resemble the big-eared icon. It was apparently the first and last time Walt Disney allowed the Mickey Mouse character to be portrayed outside of a Disney film. No wonder.
Clockwise, from top left, Stan Laurel and Oliver Hardy with Felix Knight (Tom-Tom) and Charlotte Henry (Bo-Peep); the Three Little Pigs with the villain Silas Barnaby, portrayed by Henry Brandon; a very creepy Mickey Mouse (a monkey in costume); and Laurel and Hardy with The Cat and the Fiddle (Pete Gordon). (eofftvreview.wordpress.com/psychotronicaredux.wordpress.com/YouTube/MUBI)
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Alms for the Poor
Woolworth store heiress Barbara Hutton was one of the richest women in the world in the 1930s, and her lavish lifestyle in the midst of Depression attracted the attention, and the ire, of newspaper columnist Ed Sullivan. In his “Notes and Comment,” E.B. White made this observation:
COUGH IT UP, LADY…Ed Sullivan, who in 1934 was a well-known Daily News show business columnist, thought Woolworth dime store heiress Barbara Hutton should show more concern for the needy. Known for her lavish spending during the Great Depression, in 1934 Hutton was married to a self-styled Georgian prince named Alexis Mdivani—Mdivani would be the first of Hutton’s seven husbands. Sullivan would go on to greater fame on television with the Ed Sullivan Show. (clickamericana.com/npg.org.uk)
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Oh Baby
Most of us know something about the weird and somewhat tragic tale of the Dionne quintuplets, raised from infancy before the public gaze and exploited to sell everything from dolls and books to soap and toothpaste. When E.B. White made this brief mention in his “Notes and Comment,” the story of the quintuplets was still a jolly one, and their delivering physician, Dr. Allan Roy Dafoe had gone from being a country doctor to one of North America’s most trusted medical authorities. Dafoe would become the childrens’ guardian and impresario, and make a fortune marketing their story and images.
QUINTUPLE YOUR MONEY…After he delivered the Dionee quintuplets, Dr. Allan Roy Dafoe went from being a country doctor to one of North America’s most trusted medical authorities. That later translated into big profits from companies eager to cash in on the quint’s popularity, as these 1937 ads attest. (Pinterest)
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In the Year 2400
“The Talk of the Town” examined the “Buck Rogers” craze, fed by a cartoon strip, a radio show, and an array of toys.
YESTERDAY’S TOMORROW…A Buck Rogers “pop-up” book was just one of the many formats that could be consumed by avid followers of the early sci-fi hero. Also pictured are a themed pocket watch and the “must have” sci-fi toy of 1934, Buck’s XZ-31 Rocket Pistol. (Pinterest/Bullock Museum)
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What’s It All About, Alfie?
Art and architecture critic Lewis Mumford offered praise for Alfred Stieglitz’s latest exhibition at the photographer’s gallery, An American Place. Mumford noted Stieglitz’s “astringent quality” that rose above the philistine tastes and “stupidities” of American life.
LIFE AND WORK INTERTWINED…Clockwise, from top left: Alfred Stieglitz’s famed 1930 image of Grand Central Terminal; one of the photographer’s many images of clouds under the title Equivalent, 1930; image taken from Stieglitz’s studio/gallery window titled From My Window at An American Place, North, 1931; Dorothy Norman, circa 1931; Georgia O’Keeffe, 1933. Stieglitz, who was married to Georgia O’Keeffe, became Dorothy Norman’s mentor and lover in the late 1920s. (National Gallery of Art/Art Institute of Chicago)
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From Our Advertisers
The back cover of The New Yorker was coveted by tobacco companies, the makers of Camels and Lucky Strikes (seen here) both featuring sumptuous photos of stylish women using their product, women being a key growth market for the companies…
…same for the brewers, who also sought out female consumers to bolster sales of their brands…
…Ponds continued to roll out the seeming legions of socialites and lower-tier royalty to sell their jars of cold cream…
…the magazine’s ads were often directed at middlebrow class anxieties, as we see here…
…by constrast, this ad from Bonwit Teller (graced by fashion illustrator W. Mury) took us out of the stuffy parlor and onto the beckoning beaches of the Caribbean…
…we move on to our cartoonists…all of the spot illustrations in the issue were holiday-themed, and here are a few choice examples…
…Daniel ‘Alain’ Brustlein introduced a bit of color to a monastery’s dining hall…
…James Thurber continued to explore the dynamics between the sexes…
…Barbara Shermund did a bit of dreaming with her modern women…
…Carl Rose gave us Christmas cheer, with some reservations…
…and lastly, Perry Barlow with something for the holiday procrastinator…
Above: Walter Dorwin Teague's design for Kodak's "Brownie" camera, circa 1930. (Milwaukee Art Museum)
Walter Dorwin Teague pioneered industrial design as a profession, firmly believing that great, heirloom-quality design could be available to all, and that even mass-produced objects could be beautiful if they possessed “visible rightness.”
Dec. 15, 1934 cover by William Cotton.
Cultural critic Gilbert Seldes profiled Teague (1883–1960) in the Dec. 15 issue, and in this excerpt he examined the designer’s role in the streamlining craze that emphasized movement and speed in everything from locomotives and automobiles to radios and pencil sharpeners.
GOING WITH THE FLOW…Top left, early applications of streamlining in the 1931 Marmon 16, designed by Walter Dorwin Teague; at right, Teague at work in an undated photo; below, wooden model of Teague’s Marmon 12, 1932. (drivingfordeco.com/North Carolina State University/Smithsonian Design Museum)GEE WHIZ…Henry Ford called on Teague to design an exhibit hall like no other for the 1934 re-opening of the Chicago World’s Fair. The exhibit featured an automobile cut lengthwise, and explained how various materials were extracted to create the final product. Teague helped usher in the era when world’s fairs served as arenas for the advancement of corporate identities. (Hemmings Daily)WHAT A GAS…Teague created this ubiquitous streamlined design for Texaco’s service stations in the late 1930s. (encyclopedia.design)
In this next excerpt, Seldes noted that Teague shared the thinking of other modernists of the time, namely that people could be herded into towers, even in rural landscapes. At any rate, Teague’s ultimate objective, according to Seldes, was to make everyday living more attractive to the masses.
CHROME-PLATED WORLD…Teague designed the Kodak Baby Brownie Camera (top left) and its packaging. It sold for just one dollar; at right, Teague’s console radio design Nocturne, 1935, which featured glass and chrome-plated metal; at bottom, Kodak gift camera, ca.1930. (Cooper Hewitt/design-is-fine.org/Brooklyn Museum)
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Art Depreciation
Lewis Mumford did a bit of hate-viewing during a visit to the Whitney Museum, which hosted the Second Biennial of Contemporary American Painting. Mumford found a few works he genuinely liked, but had to admit he also enjoyed the ones he hated. Excerpts:
MYSTERY WOMAN…at left, Lewis Mumford was at a loss regarding the meaning, if any, of Walt Kuhn’s latest circus painting, Sibyl, 1932; at top, Mumford found Grant Wood’sArbor Day (1932) perfectly suited to the Cedar Raids art scene, while he derived great pleasure in his dislike of Eugene Speicher’s Red Moore: The Blacksmith, 1933-34. (americangallery.wordpress.com/Wikiart/lacma.org)
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The Swash Buckles
Film critic John Mosher checked out Douglas Fairbanks Sr’s latest movie, The Private Life of Don Juan, which would prove to be the old swashbuckler’s last hurrah.
FINAL BOW…Douglas Fairbanks and Merle Oberon in Alexander Korda’s comedy-drama The Private Life of Don Juan (1934). It was the final role for the 51-year-old Fairbanks, who died five years later. (TCM)
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Toyland 1934
The New Yorker continued its seasonal tradition of offering exhaustive descriptions of various wares around the city, including the many new toys that would be available to children whose parents could afford them. An excerpt:
XMAS JOYS…According to The New Yorker, the Union Pacific Streamline Train was a big hit with the kiddos, as were the dolls and other items created to exploit the hapless Dionne Quintuplets. And then there was a Buck Rogers rocket ship that shot real sparks from its tail.(airandspace.si.edu/PBS/Paleofuture)
“Patsy” dolls and doctor/nurse kits were also popular sellers in 1934…
THEY’RE AFTER YOU…The much sought-after Patsy doll and the Patsy Nurse Outfit graced many a Christmas morning in 1934. (eBay)
The article was followed by detailed listings of department stores and select toys. Here are excerpts featuring two of the toy biggies: Macy’s and F.A.O. Schwarz:
THROUGH THE LOOKING GLASS…Top, children peering into a Macy’s window circa 1930; below, F.A.O. Schwarz display window at its Fifth Avenue location in 1935. (Library of Congress/MCNY)
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From Our Advertisers
We kick off the holiday season with Santa bringing cheer to the world, his bag laden with tobacco products from the jolly elves at R.J. Reynolds…
…along with your cigarette you could enjoy a cup of this frothy eggnog spiked with a generous shot of Paul Jones…
…and I pity the poor soul who was hoping for a toaster from Santa…perhaps the companion “Hospitality Tray” will add an extra dose of good cheer…
…however some may have wished for a revolutionary Parker “vacumatic” pen…no more dipping into the old ink-well…
…I include this ad simply for the terrific Abe Birnbaum caricature of Broadway producer Sam Harris…
Image at right is of Harris in 1928. (Wikipedia)
…on to our cartoonists, we begin with this merry spot by George Price…
…William Crawford Galbraith gave us another person in the spirit of the season…
…as did Daniel ‘Alain’ Brustlein…
…a less cheery note comes to us from James Thurber, who gave us a patron unhappy with changes to his familiar watering hole…
…and we have Alain again, and a spirited salesperson…
…Barbara Shermund gave us a glimpse of the awkward courtship rituals of the male peacock…
…and we close with Jack Markow, and the demands of Hollywood life…
Above: The Dec. 2, 1934 opening of the reconstructed Central Park Menagerie drew such luminaries as Mayor Fiorello La Guardia, pictured at left with his family, and, at right, former New York Governor Al Smith, who was designated honorary zookeeper. Smith, who, lived across from the zoo at 820 Fifth Avenue, poses with two donkeys at the Menagerie in 1940. (New York Parks Archive)
The Central Park Zoo was not part of the original Olmstead-Vaux plan for the park, but beginning in 1859 it evolved spontaneously as a menagerie located near the Arsenal; its odd collection of animals included exotic pets donated as gifts, and other random creatures including a bear, a monkey, a peacock and some goldfish.
Dec. 1, 1934 cover by Leonard Dove.
The menagerie accepted animals of all kinds, even sick ones, and by the 1920s the quality of the animals as well as the hodgepodge of buildings had degraded significantly (the lion house had to be guarded to prevent the animals from escaping their rotting quarters). In early 1934 Parks Commissioner Robert Moses addressed the adverse conditions in the menagerie, putting a redesign on a fast track and insisting that only healthy animals, in more humane settings, would be displayed.
DUMBOS…According to a 1911 Department of Parks Annual Report, the menagerie at Central Park submitted animals to questionable treatment, as suggested by this photo of a trainer and a dog perched on top of an elephant. (nycgovparks.org)
Built of brick and limestone, the new zoo was designed in just sixteen days by an in-house team led by architect Aymar Embury II. Construction on the roughly six-acre zoo took just eight months, employing federally financed Works Progress Administration (WPA) labor.
MOSES PARTS THE RED TAPE…Robert Moses wasted no time after his appointment as parks commissioner (in January 1934) to get rolling on the menagerie makeover—it took just eight months to complete the new zoo. Clockwise, from top left, invitation to the opening celebration of the Central Park Menagerie—12,000 invited guests attended the opening, while another 25,000 lined Fifth Avenue hoping to be admitted; the popular sea lion pool was a central attraction on opening day (it is one of several elements from the 1934 zoo that still exists); conditions had improved for elephants and other animals, but they were still far from ideal; aerial view of the zoo as it neared completion on Oct. 9, 1934. (nycma.lunaimaging.com/digitalcollections.nypl.org)
Much ado was made of Al Smith’s appointment as “Honorary Night Superintendent”—in these clips from the Dec. 3 New York Times, Smith gave a brief “lecture” about the zoo’s bison, to which he offered a slice of bread…
(Excerpts from The New York Times via the TimesMachine)
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From Our Advertisers
R.J. Reynolds continued to roll out its list of distinguished women who preferred their Camel cigarettes: “Mrs. Allston Boyer” nee Charlotte Young was a model with the John Robert Powers agency who was married to resorts planner Allston Boyer from 1934 to 1939. Young (1914–2012) would later marry New York Times Moscow correspondent Harrison Salisbury, and the two would embark on lengthy journeys throughout Asia, including a grueling 7,000-mile journey retracing the route of The Long March that Charlotte recounted in one of her seven travel books. Whether she continued her Camel habit is unknown, but she did live 98 years…
…a house ad from The New Yorker celebrated the holiday season with special Christmas rates (and Julian de Miskey embellishments)…
…Rea Irvin continued to have fun with the federal government’s new food and drug labeling standards…
…while Richard Decker had these two castaways contemplating a simpler form of government…
…and James Thurber continued to stir up trouble among the sexes…
…on to Dec. 8, 1934…
Dec. 8, 1934 cover by Richard Decker.
…which featured (on page 135) a handwritten letter from Kewpie Doll inventor Rose O’Neill, who commented on her recent New Yorker profile…
…here is an excerpt from the Nov. 24 profile referenced by O’Neill:
…and on to our advertisements from the Dec. 8 issue, including another Julian de Miskey-illustrated house ad…
…the clever folks at Heinz enlisted the talents of Carl Rose for a play on his famous Dec. 8, 1928 New Yorker cartoon…
…a closer look at the illustration (note the mother’s softer, more conservative appearance, five years removed from her flapper days; the child hasn’t changed a bit, except now we can see her face)…
…and the 1928 original, with caption by E.B. White…
…Peter Arno also popped up in the advertising section on behalf of Libby’s…
…the magazine grew thicker with many Christmas-themed ads, including this one from Johnnie Walker…
…Marlboro continued to take out these modest, back-page ads aimed at tobacco’s growth market—women smokers…
…the makers of Spud menthol cigarettes continued their campaign to encourage chain-smoking with this rather depressing image…
…while Spud’s new competitor in menthol cigs, KOOL, kept things simple with their smoking penguin mascot and valuable coupons for keen merchandise…
…the Citizens Family Welfare Committee offered this reminder that the Depression was still very much a challenge for 20,000 New York families…
…on to our cartoonists, beginning with Alan Dunn’s rather dim view of Robert Moses’s generously funded parks department…
…George Price gave us the latest update on his floating man, who had been up in the air since the Sept. 22 issue…
…Daniel ‘Alain’ Brustlein marked the season with dueling Santas from Macy’s and Gimbel’s…
…and we end with James Thurber, and some reverse psychology…
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.
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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)
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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…
The New Yorker’s art and architectural critic Lewis Mumford found much to dislike about urban life, from pretentious ornamentation to the gigantic scale of skyscrapers popping up all over Manhattan. Technology and progress were fine, but when coupled with unbridled capitalism, Mumford believed they created inhuman environments in which the average citizen struggled to survive, let alone thrive.
Oct. 27, 1934 cover by Constantin Alajalov.
A housing exhibit at the Museum of Modern Art proposed policy and design solutions that addressed housing for the masses in “a human environment,” with European innovations leading the way. The Romanian-born Carol Aronovici (1881-1957), a well-known expert in city planning and public housing, was editor of a companion book to the exhibit, America Can’t Have Housing, in which he included seventeen essays by such experts as architect Walter Gropius, public housing advocate Catherine Bauer, and The New Yorker’s Mumford.
GIVE ME SHELTER…At left, Carol Aronovici’s companion book to the exhibition, with a cover image of the Siemensstadt Housing Development in Berlin, by Walter Gropius; above, excerpts from Lewis Mumford’s essay in the book; below, entrance to the exhibit. (MoMA)
Mumford reviewed the exhibit in his regular column, “The Sky Line.” Excerpts:
BETTER HOMES…Images from the exhibit included the squalor of a tenement (top right) that offered a stark contrast to the clean, modern look inspired by European designers. (MoMA)
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From Our Advertisers
We once again open the magazine to an odd juxtaposition of canned soup and high fashion…Hormel was pushing their onion soup by linking the product to French nobility (a previous ad featured Napoleon)…at right, illustrator Lyse Darcy created many ads for Guerlain products from the 1930s through the 1950s…
…the Macbeth-Evans Glass Company introduced Americans to a revolution in coffee brewing—the drip method…
…the folks who made Arrow Shirts wanted men to know that its “Thor” model would make them as confident as this man at a business conference…so confident, in fact, that he can appear mildly disinterested as he engages in a game of tic-tac-toe…
…purveyors of high fashion Lord & Taylor offered up a new design twist with this ad rendered in the Courier font…
…Pond’s continued to featured the rich and famous, women who apparently defied age itself with a few dabs of cold cream…the ad featured Alice Erdman, the wife of politician and theater producer Francis Cleveland (President Grover Cleveland’s son) and Long Island society maven Xenia Georgievna of Russia…
BELIEVER…Xenia Georgievna of Russia (1903–1965) was an influential member of New York’s Long Island North Shore society. She is best known for her belief that the imposter Anna Anderson was actually the Grand Duchess Anastasia. (Pinterest)
…Newton D. Baker mobilized and presided over the United States Army during World War I, and during the Depression he led a “National Citizens Committee” that he mobilized for human needs…
…this detail from an ad for Webster cigars offered an image of a football game almost unimaginable today…
…William Steig offered his cartooning services to the local gas company…
…which segues into more cartoons from the Oct. 27 issue, beginning with this spot from James Thurber…
…and a cartoon…
…another in the floating man series by George Price…
…and one from Peter Arno, with a classic clueless cuckold…
…on to Nov. 3, 1934…
Nov. 3, 1934 cover by Richard Decker.
…and straight to the ads, beginning with this one from Schrafft’s, which was a chain of high-volume, moderately priced restaurants in the New York area…despite its affordability, Schrafft’s dining rooms were known for their gentility, an idea conveyed through this ad…
…and here we have another image of a posh couple savoring their downscale dining experience…perhaps they should ask their cook to stop using real turtles…
…the makers of Gold Seal “Champagne” lined up poet Ogden Nash to endorse what had to be some pretty awful stuff, even if Dwight Flake, “brilliant monologist and raconteur,” enjoyed its “delicate bouquet”…
…New York debutante Mimi Richardson joined the growing list of distinguished women who preferred puffing on a Camel…
…this back-page ad featured an Arno-esque illustration touting the wonders of Borden’s Golden Crest milk…
…while the real Garrett Price drew up this image for the folks at Heinz…
…which brings us to more cartoons, still up in the air with George Price…
…Peter Arno gave us a suitor who was no fan of the silents…
…and we close with James Thurber, and some scandalous dish…
Otto Klemperer rehearsing at the Hollywood Bowl in September 1937. (Los Angeles Philharmonic)
The 20th century was an age of big personalities in classical music, among them Otto Klemperer (1885-1973), a German-born protégé of the composer and conductor Gustav Mahler. Klemperer was already an established conductor in opera houses around Germany when the rise of the Nazis prompted the maestro to emigrate with his family in 1933. He was soon appointed chief conductor of the Los Angeles Philharmonic.
Oct. 13, 1934 cover by Rea Irvin.
Klemperer also guest conducted a number of orchestras in the U.S., including the New York Philharmonic, where his larger than life presence caught the attention of “The Talk of the Town.” Excerpts:
MAESTRO…Top left, Otto Klemperer with Czech composer Leoš Janáček in 1927; at right, with Austrian-American classical pianist and composer Artur Schnabel in 1933; bottom photo, with wife Johanna Geisler, son Werner and daughter Lotte in Los Angeles, 1936. (operaplus.cz/Otto Klemperer Film Foundation/ottoklemperer.nl)
Lauded internationally as a great orchestral commander, in 1939 Klemperer would begin experiencing balance issues. After a tumor the size of a small orange was removed from his brain, he would be left partially paralyzed on his right side; bouts of depression and a manic phase would later land him in a mental hospital. However, by 1946 he would recover his health enough to return to conducting in a career that would last until 1971.
The conductor’s daughter, Lotte Klemperer (1923–2003), would serve as her father’s secretary, negotiator and administrator until his death in 1973. Otto’s son, Werner Klemperer (1920–2000), would become a stage, screen and television actor, most notably portraying Colonel Klink in the 1960s comedy Hogan’s Heroes. Although the role would garner Werner two Emmys, his father never fully understood the series or even the concept of a sitcom. Reluctant to pursue a musical career while his father was alive, Werner would later join the Metropolitan Opera Company in the 1970s, appear in Broadway musicals, and serve as a narrator with a number of American symphony orchestras.
TO THEM HE WAS DAD…At left, daughter Lotte Klemperer with her famous father in 1954. She would serve as his caretaker and business partner after her mother’s death in 1956. At right, son Werner Klemperer acted on Broadway and in films before taking on the role of the bumbling Colonel Klink in the 1960s comedy Hogan’s Heroes, which garnered the actor two Emmys. Although Werner Klemperer was musically inclined, he avoided work in music until the death of his father in 1973. (Otto Klemperer Film Foundation/CBS)
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Vanished in the Haze
In his “Notes and Comment,” E.B. White lamented what appeared to be the transformation of the familiar night club; high above Manhattan in the Rockefeller Center’s Rainbow Room, the comforting haze of “cigarette smoke, talc, waiter’s venom” had been displaced by air conditioning, and to add to the horror, an organ had been installed that tinged the fox trot “with an odd piety.”
NOWHERE TO HIDE…E.B. White found the lack of haze in the new Rainbow Room disconcerting, not to mention the addition of a Wurlitzer organ, its wonders demonstrated here by organist Ray Bohr in 1934. (Library of Congress/nycago.org)
* * *
There Oughta Be a Law
While E.B. White was mourning the demise of the smoky nightclub, art and design critic Lewis Mumford continued his tirade against the pretentious and mediocre buildings that were popping up all over the city, including the new Federal Court Building on Centre Street that was, in Mumford’s words, a supreme example of bad design and fake grandeur.
A CRIMINAL CASE…Cass Gilbert’s Federal Courthouse building (United States courthouse) was completed in 1936, two years after Gilbert’s death. In 2001 it was designated as the Thurgood Marshall United States Courthouse. Critic Lewis Mumford called the design, which combined “two unlovely and unrelated forms”…”nothing short of a major crime.” (Wurts Brothers Photography Collection, National Building Museum)
* * *
Crime of the Century
That is what the press called the kidnap and murder of the infant son of Charles Lindbergh and Anne Morrow. In September 1934 a German immigrant carpenter named Bruno Hauptmann was arrested for the crime, and a trial date was set for the following January. In his “A Reporter at Large” column, Morris Markey examined the ransom money trail that led to Hauptmann’s ultimate arrest. Excerpts:
DON’T SAY “CHEESE”…Bruno Hauptmann sits for a mug shot following his arrest for the abduction and murder of the 20-month-old son of Charles Lindbergh and Anne Morrow Lindbergh. (Leslie Jones, Boston Public Library)
* * *
Should Have Stayed Lost
A film version of Willa Cather’s 1923 novel A Lost Lady was first made as a silent by Warner Brothers in 1924 (the film itself is lost) but in 1934 Warner had another go at the novel with a sound version starring starring Barbara Stanwyck, who was emerging as a major star. But Stanwyck’s talents could not overcome a script that critic John Mosher described as bleak, blank nonsense. Cather was so dismayed by the film that she refused to permit another adaptation of any of her novels during her lifetime.
LOST IN TRANSLATION…Barbara Stanwyck and Ricardo Cortez in A Lost Lady (1934). (IMDB)
* * *
From Our Advertisers
We kick off our sponsors with this two-page center spread from Hiram Walker & Sons, who introduced their new line of playing card-inspired whiskies…
…the New Yorker’s Janet Flanner wrote in 1938 that Elsie de Wolfe invented interior design as a profession, so who was to argue with de Wolfe’s suggestion that the leisure class should linger in bed with the aid of a Wamsutta bed-rest…the small print beneath the logo indicated that the bed-rest was “hair-filled,” which I assume was horse hair, still used today in some luxury brands…
…if de Wolfe was queen of interior designers, then Hattie Carnegie was the “First Lady of Fashion,” or so this ad claimed…
…here are images of the two titans of fashion and good taste…
TASTEMAKERS…At left, Hattie Carnegie aka Henrietta Kanengeiser (1880-1956), and Elsie de Wolfe, aka Lady Mendl (1859–1950). (americacomesalive.com/bureauofinteriors.com)
…and speaking of fashion, here is a llama cloth coat from B. Altman, trimmed in silver raccoon, suitable for Yale football games…based on inflation, that coat today would set you back at least $2,000…
…this condescending ad offered merchants a way to reach the “hitherto strange and aloof women of New York” through daytime advertising…
…Plymouth enlisted the talents of Alan Dunn to tout their car’s ride and durability…
…and on to our cartoonists, another from Dunn, a bit of spot art featuring a not so subtle commentary on Lawrence Lee Bazley Angas’s book The Coming American Boom…
…and some spot art from Isadore Klein…
…Miguel Covarrubias contributed to the theater review section…
…James Thurber entertained a house guest…
…George Price was still up in the air…
…Helen Hokinson took a spin with a celebrity look-alike…
…and Barbara Shermund offered another glimpse into the life of a modern woman…
…on to Oct. 20, 1934…
Oct. 20, 1934 cover by Helen Hokinson.
…in which E.B. White offered up a new lament, namely the pervasiveness of nostalgia and sentiment in contemporary literature…
HARKING BACK TO THOSE DAYS OF YORE…E.B. White simply had no stomach for the nostalgic stylings of Mary Ellen Chase (left) or Henry Seidel Canby, seen here on the cover of the May 19, 1924 issue of Time. (U of Maine/Time Inc)
* * *
Fifty Years Young
“The Talk of the Town” marked the Dakota’s 50th year at Central Park West, and made note of its loyal and prominent clientele…back in the day it served as a residence for actors such as Lillian Gish, Boris Karloff, and Teresa Wright, and in later years such luminaries as Lauren Bacall, Judy Garland, Rudolf Nureyev, and, of course, John Lennon and Yoko Ono.
THE STORIES IT COULD TELL…At left, the facade and main entrance of the Dakota in the 1960s; at right, inside the main entrance. (Pinterest/Wikipedia)
* * *
More From Our Advertisers
The Matson-Oceanic Line offered a “millionaire’s idea of a vacation” at an affordable price, and offered this sumptuous image as proof…
…E.B. White wasn’t crazy about the smokeless dazzle of the Rainbow Room, but it proved to be popular among the city’s elite…
…in case one was concerned about the provenance of one’s mink coat, Saks posted this helpful ad. Their high-end, natural-skin minks were priced at $8,000 (roughly $180,000 today); there was, however, a caveat regarding the cheaper models…
…Bergdorf Goodman offered up another ad featuring an impossibly attenuated model posed with a cigarette, her defiant gaze suggesting her modernity and individualism…
…Plymouth went back to the stable of New Yorker cartoonists, this time featuring the adventures of Helen Hokinson’s “girls”…
…and we segue to the rest of our cartoonists, including this spot by Constantin Alajalov…
…and this by George Price…
…who also gave us another update on the trials and tribulations of his floating man…
… James Thurber occasionally ignored scale in rendering his characters, which didn’t really matter in his strange world…
…Jack Markow had some bad news for two sign painters (the caption size is increased for readability)…
…and we close with Peter Arno, and the winner of most original Halloween costume…
…and before I go…this is being posted on Halloween, 2023, so here are a few images from 1934 to get you in the spirit, including a Saturday Evening Post cover, a 1934 party ideas magazine, and a page from Popular Mechanics featuring a smoking robot costume you could make yourself…in the 1930s, Popular Mechanics often featured Halloween party ideas that were downright lethal, usually involving electric shocks, pistols loaded with blanks, that sort of thing.
Above: Bill "Bojangles" Robinson demonstrating his famous stair dance, which involved a different rhythm and pitch for each step. At left, Robinson in Broadway's Blackbirds of 1928; at right, publicity photo circa 1920s. (Vandamm collection, New York Public Library/bet.com)
Bill “Bojangles” Robinson (1878–1949) is considered one of the greatest tap dancers of all time, introducing a style of remarkable lightness and complexity that was perhaps best represented by his famous stair dance.
Oct. 6, 1934 cover by Charles Alston. This was Alston’s only New Yorker cover. Active in the Harlem Renaissance, Alston was also a painter, sculptor and muralist (see more on Alston at the conclusion of this post).
St. Clair McElway wrote about the 57-year-old Robinson in a two-part profile that examined his personal life and habits, including his propensity for getting shot. Two brief excerpts:
The New Yorker profile coincided with Robinson’s rising career in films, including four he made with Shirley Temple. For the 1935 film The Little Colonel, Robinson taught the stair dance to the child star, modifying his routine to mimic her movements. Robinson and Temple became the first interracial dance partners in Hollywood history (however, the step dance scene was cut from the film shown to Southern audiences). Temple and Robinson, who became lifelong friends, also appeared together in 1935’s The Littlest Rebel, 1938’s Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm and 1938’s Just Around the Corner.
DANCING WITH THE STAIRS…Bill Robinson was also known as Bojangles, a nickname from his childhood in Richmond, Virginia. Clockwise, from top left, with his second wife Fannie Clay in 1933; performing the stair dance with Shirley Temple in The Little Colonel (1935); profile illustration by Peggy Bacon; Robinson with Temple in 1938’s Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm. (blackpast.org/Wikipedia)
Robinson is remembered for his generous support of fellow dancers including Fred Astaire, Eleanor Powell, Lena Horne, Sammy Davis Jr and Ann Miller, as well as his support for the career of 1936 Olympics star Jesse Owens.
FAST IN BOTH DIRECTIONS…Robinson befriended Jesse Owens (left) after the track & field great returned from the 1936 Olympics (where Owens won four golds). Known for his generosity to his friends, Robinson helped Owens establish a successful post-Olympics career. Robinson himself was also something of a runner, having set the world record for running backward in 1922 (100 yards in 13.5 seconds). (Public domain image)
Although Robinson was the highest paid black performer of his time, his generosity with friends as well as his gambling habits left him penniless at his death from heart failure in 1949. Longtime friend Ed Sullivan paid for Robinson’s funeral, and more than 30,000 filed past his casket to pay their respects.
I’VE STILL GOT IT…Bill Robinson with Lena Horne in 1943’s Stormy Weather, a film loosely based on Robinson’s own life. (MoMA)
* * *
In a Romantic Mood
That is how St. Clair McKelway found Hollywood in two of its latest offerings, The Barretts of Wimple Street and Caravan. To his relief, he found the Hollywood version of Barretts quite “sensible”…
LET’S BE SENSIBLE…The Barretts of Wimpole Street (1934) starred Fredric March and Norma Shearer in the lead roles. (TCM)
…as for Caravan, McKelway wrote that he’d “never seen a picture with so much grinning in it.” He found the “peculiar, unreal gleam” of the actors’ teeth a real distraction in closeup shots.
THAT PEPSODENT SMILE…Charles Boyer and Loretta Young showed off their pearly whites in 1934’s Caravan. (IMDB/TCM)
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From Our Advertisers
The Oct. 6 issue opened with a study in contrasts: an image of two Civil War veterans swapping stories over whiskey on the inside front cover, paired with an illustration of a lithe model sheathed in the latest fashion from Bergdorf…
…the folks at Campbell’s continued to suggest that their canned soup was a delight of the elite…
…Heinz took a similar tack, showing the smart set having fun with their sandwich spreads…
…Lord & Taylor touted its “tomorrow look” in furniture…
…R.J. Reynolds continued its series of “distinguished women who preferred Camel’s “costlier tobaccos,” adding to their growing list a the “charming debutante” Evelyn Cameron Watts, who later became Evelyn Watts Fiske (1915–1976)…
…in contrast to Camel’s fashionable ads, the upstart menthol brand Kool offered a series of cheap, back-page ads featuring a smoking penguin, here in the Halloween spirit (detail)…
…another recurring back page ad was this weird spot from Satinmesh, a product that apparently helped close a woman’s “gaping pores”…those pores apparently prompted one man to ponder the eternal why…
…on to our cartoonists, we begin with a two-page spot by Carl Rose…
…James Thurber spiced up a game of ping-pong…
…Mary Petty explored the miracle of birth…
…Peter Arno discovered you’re never too old to play with toys…
…Garrett Price offered a young man’s perspective on a father’s avocation…
…Alain (Daniel Brustlein) gave us a disappointed plutocrat on vacation in Mexico…
…George Price continued to mine the humor of his “floating man” series…
…and contributed a second cartoon that featured some office hijinks…
…and Otto Soglow returned without The Little King, offering in its stead the closest thing to royalty in America…
Before we sign off, a note on the Oct. 6 cover artist, Charles Henry Alston (1907–1977). A Harlem-based painter, sculptor, illustrator, muralist and teacher, Alston was active in the Harlem Renaissance and was the first Black supervisor for the Works Progress Administration’s Federal Art Project. In 1990, Alston’s bust of Martin Luther King Jr. became the first image of an African American displayed at the White House.
Clockwise, from top left, Charles Henry Alston’s 1970 bust of Martin Luther King Jr; Walking 1958; Andrew Herman photo of Alston, 1939; Midnight Vigil, 1936. (Smithsonian/Wikipedia/Columbia.edu)
Above: Newsreel cameramen perch on boards resting on a windowsill to get a birds-eye view of a passing parade, circa 1930. (Public Domain Image)
We marvel at, and sometimes decry, today’s instantaneous news coverage of wars, disasters and the like, but ninety years ago newsreel crews did a remarkable job of filming and delivering the latest news to thousands of theaters across the U.S. and around the world.
Sept. 22, 1934 cover by Harry Brown.
In his “A Reporter at Large” column, Morris Markey penned a lengthy account of Fox Movietone’s coverage of the SS Morro Castle disaster. En route from Havana to New York City on Sept. 8, 1934, the luxury liner caught fire near the New Jersey coast. Due to the ship’s design and the ineptitude of the crew, the blaze claimed 137 lives. Markey described how newsreel crews—with their bulky cameras and sound equipment—went into action, including a cameraman who “goaded” a pilot into taking him aloft through vicious weather conditions.
GUTS AND INGENUITY took newsreel reporters to places high and low. Clockwise, from top left, title card from a 1935 Fox Movietone newsreel; Jack Lieb goes aloft to get capture newsreel footage in an undated photo—Lieb was a cameraman for Hearst’s News of the Day; a 1930s Fox Movietone camera; the SS Morro Castle ablaze off the New Jersey Coast on Sept. 8, 1934. (Wikipedia/Lieb photo Courtesy of Bette Marshall via unwritten-record.blogs.archives.gov)
Somehow the cameraman aboard the airplane (which was forced down by weather three times) was able to get his footage to the Movietone office by noon, less than seven hours after the office first received word of the disaster. By three o’clock, five thousand feet of film from all sources was being developed.
UP NORTH AND DOWN UNDER…Movietone news had crews stationed around the world, including field staff in Sydney (top, from 1938), and in Toronto, circa 1930. (Nat’l Library of Australia/City of Toronto Archives)
Markey concluded with this observation about the “rugged” and persistent newsreel cameramen:
In the aftermath of the Morro Castle disaster, a scene of enormous tragedy was turned into a tourist attraction…
GAWKERS AND HAWKERS…The charred hulk of the SS Morro Castle came to rest on the shore near the Asbury Park boardwalk, which became a popular spot for souvenir salesmen and photo-ops. Tourists flocked to the site from September 1934 to March 1935, when the ship was finally towed away. Note the postcard (bottom) advertising homemade candy over an image of the charred ship. (ripleys.com/side-o-lamb.com)
Fox Movietone News produced sound newsreels from 1928 to 1963, and in the UK as British Movietone News…here is Movietone footage of the Morro Castle disaster, as presented by British Movietone in 1934:
* * *
Up In The Old Hotels
Last week “The Talk of the Town” looked in on one of Manhattan’s oldest saloons, McSorley’s. For the Sept. 22 “Talk” the subject was “Oldest Hotels,” two of which, The Cosmopolitan and The Grand, remarkably survive to this day.
HANGING IN THERE…The 1845 Brevoort House hotel at 15 Fifth Avenue (top left) was torn down in 1952, however the 1868 Grand Hotel (right) at 1232–1238 Broadway and the 1845 Cosmopolitan Hotel (below, left) at Chambers Street and West Broadway still stand today. (Museum of the City of New York / Chester Higgins Jr. for The New York Times)
* * *
The Six-Million Dollar Road
The first roadway designed exclusively for automobile use was likely the Long Island Motor Parkway, privately built by William Kissam Vanderbilt II because he wanted a road suitable for auto racing. He established the Vanderbilt Cup races on local roads in 1904, but after two spectators were killed and many others injured, in 1908 he began building what would become a 45-mile (72 km) toll road from Queens to Lake Ronkonkoma. After two mechanics were killed in a 1910 race, the New York Legislature banned racing on the road, which the state took over in 1938.
ROAD WARRIOR…William Kissam Vanderbilt II (top right) staged his Vanderbilt Cup Races on his private road until a fatal accident put a stop to the fun in 1910; At bottom right, a surviving section of the road today. Most of the road in Queens is a bicycle trail, and other segments still serve as parts of a county road. (nyheritage.org/Wikipedia-Steve Nowotarski/ny1.com)
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From Our Advertisers
I have nothing against accordion music, despite years of exposure to Lawrence Welk during my youth, but I find it hard to believe that a Park Avenue socialite (identified here as Mrs. René Du Champ Bellinger) would contemplate tormenting her posh friends with a Hohner squeezebox…
…Esquire magazine was barely a year old when it posted this ad in The New Yorker…its appeal to men (and their anxieties) keeps it going today…
…it’s interesting how companies in the 19th century and on through the 1950s featured idealized, bird’s eye images of their factories in advertising, doubtless believing that consumers associated size (and smokestacks) with prosperity, and therefore a quality product…
…White Rock, however, has used the image of the Greek goddess Psyche for more than a century to promote the purity of its spring water…
…purity was also the main point of this ad from Daggett & Ramsdell, who hawked their wares to the Park Avenue set…after more than 130 years D&G is still in the beauty business…
…this next ad is almost unbelievable…single rooms starting at $5, double rooms $7, and a whole suite for $10…at the Plaza…okay, $10 is roughly equivalent to $225 today, but half of that could get you a single…
…and yet another unlikely claim from R.J. Reynolds regarding the energizing qualities of their Camel cigarettes…it seems the last thing you would need while climbing a mountain is smoke in your already over-taxed lungs…
…however, let’s give proper due to Georgia Engelhard (1906–1986), who scandalized the mountaineering world by ditching the Victorian climbing skirt in favor of a pair of climbing pants. Engelhard was the first female climber to ascend many of the peaks in the Rockies…
Georgia Engelhard in a 1922 photo attributed to her friend Alfred Stieglitz. (nga.gov)
…it seemed like nearly everyone smoked in the 1930s, even in ads that had nothing to do with tobacco companies (detail)…
…on to our cartoons, we begin with Richard Decker and some retail competition…
…George Price drew up a curiosity even Robert Ripley couldn’t believe…
…Robert Day examined advances in evolutionary science…
…E. Simms Campbell offered up this abbreviated love story…
…Peter Arno gave us a director with a god complex…
…and one from Ned Hilton, and a new perspective on flying…
…on to Sept. 29, 1934, with a cover by Arnold Hall, who produced at least twelve covers for The New Yorker between 1933 and 1939…
Sept. 29, 1934 cover by Arnold Hall.
…and we go straight to ads, beginning with this alarming image that greeted readers on the inside cover…why would this prompt anyone to purchase a can of onion soup?…
…the Rainbow Room on the 65th floor of Rockefeller Center opened in 1934, and it quickly became a focal point for the city’s elite…
Above, the dining room at the Rainbow Room, 1934, and below, in 2004. (Library of Congress/Wikipedia)
…Lucky Strike continued its series of ads featuring fashionable women looking smart with their product…
…our cartoons include this spot illustration by Otto Soglow, who did spots for The New Yorker for many years…although Soglow’s Little King moved to the Hearst newspapers, he continued to contribute cartoons to The New Yorker until 1974…
…George Price continued to explore life as a levitating man…
…the enforcement of the Hays Code had this teen in a “fix,” per James Thurber…
…Gluyas Williams continued his exploration of various crises, this time in the music world…
…Alan Dunn gave us a glimpse of civilization via the pharaonic sculptures that were emerging on the face of Mt. Rushmore…
…and we close with the wonderful wit of Barbara Shermund…
If you think today’s food trailers are the result of some hipster craze, consider that their origins go back more than a century; by 1934 Manhattan was home to 300 of the country’s 5,000 “lunch wagons,” which were commonly called “dog wagons.”
September 8, 1934 cover by Ilonka Karasz.
Some of Manhattan’s dog wagons belied the moniker, however, resembling the sleek roadside diners over which many today wax nostalgic. Jerry O’Mahony Diner Company of Elizabeth, New Jersey, produced more of these dining cars than any other concern—2,000 of them between 1917 and 1952 (only about twenty remain today). “The Talk of the Town” had this to say about the dog wagon phenomenon. Excerpts:
PROMISE OF BIG BUCKS…Tierney, based in New Rochelle and established in 1895, was an early manufacturer of lunch wagons and dining cars. It went out of business in 1933. Above, detail from a Tierney Diner Car Advertisement from the late 1920s. (scalar.usc.edu)LUNCH ON THE RUN…Clockwise, from top left, early “dog wagons” were horse-drawn affairs; the wagons became semi-stationary with the advent of manufactured units designed to resemble old railroad dining cars; bottom photos show interiors of two O’Mahony diners. (restaurantingthroughhistory.com/americanbusinesshistory.org/dinerhunter.com)ALL IN A NAME…Above: The Jerry O’Mahony Diner Company produced 2,000 diners in its Elizabeth, New Jersey, factory. Below, an O’Mahoney dining car headed for its new home in Kansas—the O’Mahony company preferred that patrons give their dining cars elite names, such as this “Palace Diner.” (dinerhunter.com/nyfta.org)LAST CALL…One of the few surviving O’Mahony diners—The Summit Diner in Summit, New Jersey. A prototypical “rail car” style diner, it was built by the O’Mahony Company in 1938. (Jeff Boyce/Wikimedia Commons)
* * *
A Captain’s Curios
“The Talk of the Town” also paid a visit to Captain Charley’s Private Museum for Intelligent People, a place that would later be visited (and written about) by The New Yorker’s chronicler of the commonplace, Joseph Mitchell. Excerpts:
MURKY MUSEUM…This is likely the red brick building on 127th Street where the old mariner Captain Charley held court in the basement with his Private Museum for Intelligent People. (Google Street View)
* * *
Origins of Life
Wolcott Gibbs took his turn as theater reviewer (in relief of Robert Benchley) and managed to sit through Life Begins at 8:40, which had a successful run at the Winter Garden.
GIVING IT A REST…Roy Bolger, Luella Gear, Frances Williams and Bert Lahr headed the cast of Life Begins at 8:40 at the Winter Garden. Critic Wolcott Gibbs appreciated Lahr’s change in tempo, as he was becoming a more “restful” comedian. Lahr was the father of New Yorker theater critic and writer John Lahr. (Library of Congress)
In contrast to Bert Lahr’s new toned-down style, Milton Berle’s outlandish antics over at the Imperial Theatre had Gibbs wondering what the comedian’s vaudeville-style show Saluta was all about, if it was about anything. Whatever it was, it worked—Berle would enjoy a comedy career spanning eight decades, including becoming one of early television’s biggest stars.
ON FIRE…Milton Berle’s show Saluta featured Chaz Chase (right), famed for gobbling up whatever was placed in front of his mouth, including a box of lit matches. At left, Berle in 1930; right, Chase in the 1935 film Vaudeville. (Pinterest/IMDB)
* * *
From Our Advertisers
We begin with a cold one from Rheingold, which had “beverage balance” and wasn’t afraid to stamp a slogan right over its ad copy…
…Lucky Strike gave us another stylish reason for taking up a bad habit…
…Arts & Decoration magazine took out this full page to tout the latest news in modern design…
…while the folks at Packard bought this center spread to give ample space to their 1935 model, which must have been a helluva thing to parallel park…
…clothing companies continued use class shaming to goad aspiring toffs to purchase the “correct” attire for school…
…with the help of Gardner Rea, Heinz suggested that the upper orders would simply swoon over cuisine you managed to scoop out of a can…
…on to our cartoonists, we begin with spots by James Thurber…
…and Lloyd Coe…
…with the absence of Otto Soglow’sLittle King, Gluyas Williams did his best to fill the void of a full page, something Williams did quite nicely…
…Rea Irvin gave us yet another local bird sighting…
…Richard Decker found understatement over a reservoir…
…Robert Day borrowed from the style of Rockwell Kent to offer a bit of humor from the northern climes…
…here is a woodcut from Kent’s N by E is, an illustrated story of his voyage to Greenland…
(From Rockwell Kent’s 1930 book of woodcuts, N by E, via untendedgarden.com)
…Reginald Marsh lent his social realism to an uglier side of American life…
…and we close with Helen Hokinson, just taking in the passing scene…
Sigmund Gottfried Spaeth (1885–1965) sought to popularize classical music and improve the musical tastes of the masses by meeting the public wherever he could find them, from vaudeville halls to national radio broadcasts.
September 1, 1934 cover by William Steig.
Born in a line of three generations of Lutheran clergymen, Spaeth chose a different path and became a musicologist who sought to de-mystify classical music, often demonstrating how popular melodies had origins in earlier music. He also had strong opinions about lyrics in popular music, demonstrating his distaste for “the lyric school of self-pity” in this “Onward and Upward” column. Excerpts:
BRINGING MUSIC AND LIGHT…Sigmund Spaeth found much to dislike in the world of popular music, but he was never stuffy in his approach to music appreciation. At right, Spaeth appeared in vaudeville-style shows (and for many years on the radio) as “The Tune Detective,” wearing a deerstalker cap, cape, and checked tweeds in imitation of Sherlock Holmes. He hoped to demonstrate to a wide audience that all music was essentially based on a set of simple principles. (sinfonia.org/wnyc.org)HAVE NO FEAR…Spaeth wrote a popular syndicated newspaper column, “Music for Everybody,” and contributed articles to many periodicals during his career. With his first book in 1925, The Common Sense of Music, and others that followed, Spaeth sought to de-mystify music for a general audience. (Wikimedia Commons)OH LIGHTEN UP…Spaeth detected a cynical note in Bing Crosby’s (left) sob song, “I Cried for You,” and noted Irving Berlin’s latest contribution to the “sob symposium,” “I Never Had a Chance.” (Wikipedia/digitalcommons.library.umaine.edu/britannica.com)
Spaeth noted that not all sad songs were dripping in artificial self-pity, citing Helen Morgan’s “Why Was I Born?” as an example of a song modeled on “the legitimate blues,” marked by “a sincerity of expression in everyday language”…
RIGHT AND WRONG…Spaeth acknowledged the “sincerity of expression” in Helen Morgan’s (left) torch songs, while at the other extreme he suggested that the authors of “Was That the Human Thing to Do?” (Sammy Fain and Joe Young) be boiled alive in their own tears. The song was popularized by The Boswell Sisters, a beloved New Orleans trio in the early 1930s. (findagrave.com/amazon.com/genius.com)
* * *
Off to the Races
In his column, “Of All Things,” Howard Brubaker commented on the apparent competition and contrast between Alexander Woollcott’s book, While Rome Burns, and another with a rosier title, The Coming of the American Boom. It appears Woollcott’s book won out, at least in the long run, as I can find no trace of the Boom book, or its author.*
* One of our kind readers has identified the author: “The Coming American Boom” was written by Lawrence Lee Bazley Angas and published by Simon and Schuster in 1934. In 1939, Time noted that “Major Lawrence Lee Bazley (‘Boom’) Angas is a pink & white Britisher with a reputation for making daring predictions which have sometimes come true…. He won his nickname with a much-publicized booklet, The Coming American Boom, which heralded his arrival in the U.S. in 1934.”
Speaking of rosy outlooks, E.B. White offered some parting thoughts on Chicago’s World’s Fair, called “A Century of Progress.” Rather than focus on the grandiose exhibits, White wryly noted other signs of progress at the fair, as recounted from a letter he received from his nephew.
The Chicago World’s Fair featured all sorts of modern wonders “dedicated to the ideal of scientific advance”…
…but as with any World’s Fair, it also catered to the baser interests of the masses, with attractions such as Robert Ripley’sBelieve It Or Not “Odditorium,” which was essentially a P.T. Barnum-style freak show…
…Ripley’s syndicated newspaper feature included these Odditorium attractions…
…White made light of exhibitions displaying such signs of progress as how to brush your teeth, and more examples of human freakdom…
…White’s nephew wrote of a man who could pull a wagon (containing his wife) with his eyelids, an apparently arthritic fellow who was “turning to stone,” and a man who could support heavy weights with his pierced breasts…
(all images courtesy postcardy.blogspot.com)
* * *
Letter From Paris
Paris correspondent Janet Flanner wrote that August 1934 was a “month of memories” as it marked the twentieth anniversary of the outbreak of the Great War, which we now call World War I. Flanner wrote about a new attitude that had arisen in those two decades, “a new attitude not only toward the last war but toward the next (which, ironically enough, seems increasingly inevitable to France since the death of the enemy warrior, von Hindenburg).” She continued with these observations made by French journalist and historian Emmanuel Berl (1892–1976), who wrote that as a result of the Great War, the youth in both France and Germany held few heroic illusions about war, seeing it not as a sacrifice but rather “as a means of being annihilated.”
SO MUCH FOR THE HEROICS…A refugee family returning to Amiens, France, looking at the ruins of a house on Sept. 17, 1918. Top right, Janet Flanner in 1940; below, Emmanuel Berl. (iwm.org.uk/Flanner photo copyright Estate of George Platt Lynes/Berl photo courtesy Joël Chirol)
* * *
From Our Advertisers
Clothing company Rogers Peet used the threat of humiliation to encourage young men to stock up on “authentic university fashions” before returning to campus…
…the Wanamaker department store took a different approach, offering up new styles with a heavy English accent (I say, didn’t we play tennis once at the Hon. Toppy Crew’s?)…
…the makers of Goodyear tires offered up this disturbing image to boost sales…
…this ad told us that “Mrs. Henry Field” collected fine art, loved to go to parties, and “always smoked Camel cigarettes”…I am unaware of the fate of Mrs. Henry Field, married to the grandnephew of Marshall Field, but this unseemly image suggests she was replaced by a wax figure before the photo was taken…
…on to our cartoons, we begin with spot illustrations from (clockwise, from top) Victor De Pauw, Abe Birnbaum, and an unidentified illustrator who offered this suggestion for beating the late summer heat…
…we move along to Alan Dunn and a record-seeking pooch…
…Peter Arno with a very Arno-esque take on the stranded island trope…
…James Thurber gave us a man who was done making decisions…
…Richard Decker offered up this living history demonstration…
…George Price gave us two tropes for the price of one…
…Barbara Shermund gave us another glimpse into the lives of modern women…
…Rea Irvin continued his exploration of Manhattan’s fauna…
…our next cartoon is by Henry Steig, who used the pseudonym Henry Anton to avoid being confused with his brother, William Steig (featured on this issue’s cover)…unlike his brother, Henry was also a jazz musician, a sculptor and painter, a photographer, and a novelist…that is before he became a noted jeweler…
…Henry Steig’s jewelry shop at 590 Lexington Avenue can be glimpsed in the background of the famous subway vent scene from 1955’s The Seven Year Itch featuring Marilyn Monroe…
…and we close with Otto Soglow, and the last appearance his “Little King” in The New Yorker...William Randolph Hearst had lured Soglow away for his King Features Syndicate, debuting The Little King in his newspapers on September 9, 1934, where it would run until Soglow’s death in 1975…Soglow, however, would continue contributing cartoons of other themes to The New Yorker until 1974…
A New Yorker State of Mind 