Made In Germany

Above: Adolf Hitler at a groundbreaking ceremony for a new section of the Reichsautobahn highway system, 1933. (Bundesarchiv)

Mildred Gilman was one of the highest paid female reporters in the 1920s, interviewing everyone from murderers to heads of state. But when she arranged to interview Adolf Hitler in 1933, the Gestapo got nervous and threw her out of the country.

Feb. 10, 1934 cover by Harry Brown.

Gilman (1896-1994) doubtless sought a modicum of satisfaction when she penned “Made in Germany” for the Feb. 10, 1934 issue. I am including generous excerpts below, which describe the day in the life of an average Berliner named Emil Pfalz, a man who doesn’t question the omnipresent Nazi propaganda and often worries about his ability to keep in step with the new regime (Note: these first two clips should be read as one continuous piece).

THERE’S SOMETHING HAPPENING HERE…Berliners (left) and residents of Worms (top) inspect Nazi propaganda that instructed Germans not to do business with Jewish people (on Jan. 24, 1934, the German government banned Jews from membership in the German Labor Front, effectively depriving them of the opportunity to find employment); below, in early 1934 a simulated uprising was staged in Berlin (with people posing as casualties) as part of Nazi maneuvers. Later that summer SS and Gestapo forces would conduct a purge known as “Night of the Long Knives,” eliminating any known or suspected dissenters of the Nazi regime. Hundreds were murdered and many more arrested. (digitallibrary.usc/Wikipedia)
GRIM FAIRY TALE…As a loyal citizen, Emil Pfalz was sure to teach his children the Nazi salute. Image from a Nazi propaganda booklet. (British Library Board)

Emil’s story continues as he contemplates his duties as a father and husband in the Third Reich…

…and heeds the call to produce more Aryan babies.

What the Nazis did not want more of was chronically ill or disabled persons. The sick minds of Nazi propagandists produced this image below, which argues that for the same daily amount of reichsmarks you could either support an entire Aryan family or a single mentally disabled person…in 1933 the Law for the Prevention of Hereditarily Diseased Offspring was passed, allowing for the forced sterilization of those regarded as ‘unfit’. In 1939 the regime began killing the disabled (up to 250,000 people).

A final note about the writer, Mildred Gilman. In addition to being a journalist of both daring and flair, she wrote eight novels including the bestseller Sob Sister. In her younger days she was employed as a secretary for New York World columnist Heywood Broun and partied with Dorothy Parker, Alexander Woollcott, and Robert Benchley. She wrote a profile of Paul Robeson for the Sept. 21, 1928 issue of the New Yorker.

Mildred Gilman in 1938.

 * * *

Up In Smoke

George Cecil Cowing, known for his whimsical “Boulevardier” column for the Pasadena Star-News, commented on the changing themes adopted by cigarette manufacturers, namely the folks at R.J. Reynolds who abandoned their magician-themed ads for their Camel brand (“It’s Fun to Be Fooled”) for spots featuring endorsements from second-tier society women…

POSH PUFFERS…”Mrs. Thomas M. Carnegie Jr.” (Virginia Beggs) and “Mrs. J. Gardner Coolidge II” (Mary Louise Coolidge) shared their favorite dishes and their love for smoking Camels in these ads, which appeared in the New Yorker in early 1934.

 * * *

From Our Advertisers

Appropriately we turn to our advertisers, where we find the Camel brand trying out a new theme that demonstrated their product’s appeal to plainer folks…

…Brown & Williamson’s first national brand, Raleigh, was launched as a premium cigarette in 1928, here marketed with a plain or cork tip (“to please her and save her lips”)…

…in his parody of Camel ads, George Cecil Cowing wrote that he preferred Chesterfields, a big-time brand of mid-century America…

…the makers of White Rock reveled in the newly found freedoms of legalized alcohol…

…the folks at Fisher were sticking with their lavish two-page color ads and what has always been a tiresome double entendre…

…Lord & Taylor took to the skies to promote their “country clothes” to the smart set…

…and cartoonist Herbert Roese, who apparently never published a cartoon in the New Yorker, turned in this very New Yorker-looking illustration for Piel’s…

…on to our cartoonists, we begin with Clarence Day, better known for his Life With Father stories…

…the Valentine’s issue featured several themed cartoons, including these by Richard Decker

…and John Reehill

…love was also in the air for Gilbert Bundy

…while William Crawford Galbraith continued to ply the waters of the creepily lustful…

…and we test different waters with Richard Yardley, a popular editorial cartoonist for The Baltimore Sun…this is the only cartoon he published in the New Yorker

…the Westminster Kennel Club dog show was in town, here tapped by Helen Hokinson to also explore the theme of fatherhood…

Perry Barlow was the latest New Yorker contributor to mock the futuristic, aerodynamic style of Chrysler’s Airflow

…and James Thurber’s “War Between Men and Women” paused as the two sides made preparations for the next battle…

Next Time: And Now We Are Nine…

The Tastemakers

Modernism in interior design gained a wider audience in the 1920s thanks in part to a series of major exhibitions sponsored by some of New York City’s leading department stores.

Sept. 29, 1928 cover by Rea Irvin.

Although the New Yorker continued to feature advertisements for traditional styles of furniture, such as this one from the Sept. 22, 1928 issue…

…it was clear that the appetites of the city’s younger “smart set” were being whetted by retailers such as Macy’s, who in May 1927 hosted an “Exposition of Art in Trade” that included 100 exhibitors of modern European and American silver, pottery, books, textiles and furniture. The following spring Macy’s hosted the “International Exposition of Art in Industry,” where more than 250,000 visitors saw the work of more than 300 exhibitors from six countries. (This blog’s opening photo features a 1928 sideboard by Kem Weber, one of the exhibitors at Macy’s 1928 show. Photo courtesy Cooper Hewitt Collection).

TRENDSETTERS…R. H. Macy & Co. hosted the International Exposition of Art in Industry in the spring of 1928. At right, an interior scene at the exposition, with a chair designed by Walter Von Nessen. (socalarchhistory.blogspot.com/wright20.com)

Macy’s inspired other exhibitions by such retailers as Wanamaker’s, Abraham & Straus, Frederick Loeser, Lord & Taylor, and B. Altman & Co., which advertised its “20th Century Taste in the New Expression of the Arts in Home Furnishings” in the Sept. 29, 1928 issue of the New Yorker:

Writer Bertram Bloch reviewed the exhibit in the Oct. 6 issue. Although he suggested that he had some “hard, cruel things” to say about the show, overall he believed it something not to be missed. Excerpts:

THE SMART LOOK…B. Altman & Company showcased designs including, clockwise, from upper left, a dining room by Charles B. Falls; a conversation room by Steele Savage; a bedroom by Charles B. Falls; and a salon section by Dominique. (Art Institute of Chicago)
FADED GLORY…Clockwise, from upper left, The B. Altman flagship store at 34th Street and 5th Avenue and a closer view of the front entrance in 1915; closed in 1989, the flagship store is now used by the Graduate Center of the City University of New York, among other tenants. The mahogany-paneled Fifth Avenue foyer survives intact, however the exterior looks a bit hosed-down, with the Ionic capitals removed from the columns as well as the lintels that banded the windows and the cornice on top. (Museum of the City of New York/daytoninmanhattan)

While on the topic of modern furniture, Ilonka Karasz, who painted a total of 186 New Yorker covers from 1924 to 1973, showcased her own furniture designs (along with other artists from the American Designers’ Gallery), at an exhibition the following month.

NEW YORKER COVER ARTIST Ilonka Karasz designed this dining room for the American Designers Gallery Exhibition in October 1928.  (Art Institute of Chicago)

 *  *  *

The Singing Fool

The New Yorker generally detested the introduction of sound in motion pictures, but for some reason didn’t mind it so much when Al Jolson opened his mouth. This time he followed up his blackface performance in The Jazz Singer with another blackface routine in The Singing Fool. E.B. White wrote about the film’s big opening in “The Talk of the Town”…

…and in the magazine’s film review section, yet more praise for Jolson, whose singing apparently compensated for the mediocre dialogue:

SERVED WITH A SIDE OF HAM…One of a series of promo slides for The Singing Fool, featuring Al Jolson, child actor Davey Lee, and the saccharine lyrics for Sonny Boy, said to be the first pop record to sell more than million copies. (nitrateville.com)
THAT WAS ENTERTAINMENT…Theatre lobby card for 1928’s The Singing Fool. (IMDB)

The Sept. 29 issue illustrates the dichotomy in how the New Yorker depicted African Americans in the 1920s. Blacks in the magazine’s cartoons and illustrations were often portrayed as minstrel characters, picaninnies or mammies. However, a serious artist like Paul Robeson received a much different treatment. Indeed, the magazine shamed the racism of a fictional character in Dorothy Parker’s short story “Arrangement in Black and White” (Oct. 8, 1927), in which a wealthy, white woman condescends to a black singer who might well have been modeled after Robeson. The journalist and author Mildred Gilman profiled Robeson in the very same issue that praised Jolson’s tired blackface routine. An excerpt, accompanied by a Hugo Gellert illustration:

*  *  *

Next Time Wear a Disguise

The newlywed Gene Tunney (also newly retired from boxing) was spending some time in Europe, probably hoping to get a break from the adoring crowds back in the States. Upon entering a French café with his friend, the author Thornton Wilder, he soon discovered that adoring crowds awaited him on the other side of the pond, as related by the New Yorker’s Paris correspondent Janet “Genêt” Flanner:

ENJOYING SOME DOWN TIME…The boxer Gene Tunney, left, and the writer George Bernard Shaw on a 1929 vacation to Brioni. (Associated Press)

 *  *  *

From Our Advertisers

Although by 1928 Americans (and particularly New Yorkers) were flouting Prohibition laws, alcoholic beverages still could not be legally produced or marketed (except for “religious” or “medicinal” purposes). Advertisers, however, found clever ways to market non-alcoholic beverages like ginger ale with the allure of liquor or fine wine. But then again, few were actually drinking straight ginger ale…

And if you formerly grew grapes for winemaking, what’s preventing you from selling unpasteurized grape juice that remains free from fermentation “as long as the factory seal remains unbroken”…? Also, note the not-so-subtle cocktail shaker at the top left of the photo:

And for our cartoons, Barbara Shermund explored the modern ways of love…

…while Peter Arno continued probing the comic imbalance of rich old men and their young mistresses…

Next Time: A Bird’s Eye View…