Portraits and Prayers

Above, left, a 1935 portrait of Gertrude Stein by Carl Van Vechten; right, Gertrude Stein and Alice B. Toklas arriving in New York aboard the French Line’s SS Champlain in 1934. (Library of Congress/AP)

Much of America’s literary world was abuzz about the arrival of Gertrude Stein in New York after her nearly three-decade absence from the States. Audiences were mostly receptive to Stein’s lectures, even if they were largely unintelligible, but The New Yorker would have none of it.

Nov. 17, 1934 cover by Rea Irvin.

Stein (1874–1946) visited the U.S. at the urging of friends who suggested that a lecture tour might help her gain an American audience for her work. She crisscrossed the country for 191 days, delivering seventy-four lectures in thirty-seven cities.

Writing for the Smithsonian Magazine (October 2011), Senior Editor Megan Gambino notes that publishing houses regarded Stein’s writing style as incomprehensible (Gambino writes that shortly after her arrival in the U.S., “psychiatrists speculated that Stein suffered from palilalia, a speech disorder that causes patients to stutter over words or phrases”), but in 1933 “she at last achieved the mass appeal she desired when she used a clearer, more direct voice” in The Autobiography of Alice B. Toklas. However, Stein was still best known in the U.S. for her “insane” writings, as one New York Times reporter described Stein’s work upon the writer’s arrival in New York. Excerpts from the Oct. 25, 1934 edition of the Times:

Stein had also achieved success in America via her libretto to Virgil Thomson’s opera Four Saints in Three Acts. Prior to her visit, Stein was featured in a newsreel reading the “pigeon” passage from the libretto, which James Thurber satirized in this piece titled “There’s An Owl In My Room.” Excerpts.

Here is a YouTube clip of the newsreel satirized by Thurber. Stein begins her “pigeon” reading at the 30-second mark:

If Thurber found the libretto ridiculous, it was an opinion not necessarily shared by audiences who attended Four Saints in Three Acts, which premiered in Hartford, Connecticut, before making a six-week run on Broadway.

SAINTS AND PIGEONS…The original cast of Four Saints in Three Acts, onstage at the Wadsworth Atheneum, Hartford, 1934; at right, Gertrude Stein reviews the libretto for Four Saints with American composer Virgil Thomson, 1934. (Harold Swahn/Bancroft Library, UC Berkeley)

Since Stein had never seen the opera performed, writer and photographer Carl Van Vechten convinced Stein and Toklas to fly on an airplane for the first time in order to be able to see the play in Chicago.

FLIGHT INSURANCE…Stein and Toklas were anxious about flying, so Van Vechten gave each a small Zuni fetish—a good luck charm as they prepared to board their plane at Newark. (Boatwright Memorial Library, The University of Richmond)

Thurber wasn’t the only New Yorker writer to throw shade on Stein’s visit. In his “Books” column, Clifton Fadiman described Stein as a “mamma of dada” and a “Keyserling in divided skirts” (Hermann Keyserling was a non-academic German philosopher known for his platitudinous, obscure writings). Excerpt:

Fadiman continued by excoriating Stein’s latest book, Portraits and Prayers, likening its “shrill, incantatory” quality to “the rituals of a small child at solitary play.”

 * * *

Over the Rainbow

We leave Gertrude Stein for the time being and check in with Lois Long, who was sampling the fall attractions of the New York nightclub scene in “Tables for Two.” In these excerpts, the 32-year-old Long continued her pose as a much older woman (“about to settle down with a gray shawl”) as she bemoaned the bourgeoisie excess of places like the Colony, once known for its boho, speakeasy atmosphere. And then there was the Rainbow Room, with its organ blaring full blast to the delight of gawking tourists.

LOST IN NEW YORK…Lois Long lamented the demise of cafe life in Manhattan; from left, the Colony, circa 1940, which went from boho to upscale; the 21 Club, a favorite Prohibition-era haunt of Long’s where she was suddenly a nobody; and high above the city, the Rockefeller Center’s Rainbow Room, and its interminable organ music. (Pinterest/Alice Lum via Daytonian in Manhattan/nycago.org)

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From Our Advertisers

Just one ad from the Nov. 17 issue (more to come below)…the latest athlete to attest to the energizing effects of Camel cigarettes…Cliff Montgomery (1910–2005) was famed for a hidden ball trick play that led one of the greatest athletic upsets—Columbia’s 7-0 win over Stanford in the 1934 Rose Bowl. Montgomery would play one year with the NFL Brooklyn Dodgers, and would later earn a Silver Star for his heroism during World War II…

…on to our cartoonists, we begin with Robert Day’s jolly illustration for the “Goings On About Town” section…

Rea Irvin looked into fair play among the fox hunting set…

Garrett Price gave us a tender moment among the bones at the American Museum of Natural History…

…and Peter Arno introduced two wrestlers to an unwelcoming hostess…

…on to Nov. 24, 1934 issue, and the perils of the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade as illustrated on the cover by William Cotton

Nov. 24, 1934 cover by William Cotton.

…where we find still more scorn being heaped upon Gertrude Stein. “The Talk of the Town” offered this observation (excerpt):

…and E.B. White had the last word on Stein in his Dec. 1, 1934 “Notes and Comment” column:

* * *

There Goes the Neighborhood

Returning to the Nov. 24 issue, Alberta Williams penned a lengthy “A Reporter at Large” column, titled “White-Collar Neighbors,” about the new Knickerbocker Village development in the Lower East Side. Real estate developer Fred French razed roughly one hundred buildings to build what has since been criticized as an example of early gentrification in Manhattan. Williams assessed the development after more than a year of construction, finding that despite federal funding, the leasing company had yet to rent any apartments “to Negroes or Orientals.” Although the development was meant to serve some of the families it displaced, the vast majority were forced to move back into slums due to escalating rents.

BREATHING ROOMS…Knickerbocker Village in 2019. To make way for the development, one hundred buildings were razed in the “Lung Block,” so named because of its high tuberculosis mortality rate. The development continues to be designated as affordable housing. (Wikipedia)

 * * *

Dollmaker

Raised in rural Nebraska, at an early age Rose O’Neill (1874–1944) demonstrated an artistic bent, and was already a published illustrator and writer when she drew her first images of “Kewpie” around the year 1908. A German doll manufacturer began producing a doll version of Kewpie in 1913, and they became an immediate hit, making O’Neill a millionaire and for a time the highest-paid female illustrator in the world. When Alexander King penned a profile of O’Neill, Kewpies were no longer the rage, but O’Neill was nevertheless determined to find success in a new doll line. Excerpts:

QP QUEEN…Clockwise from top left, Rose O’Neill circa 1910, just before her Kewpie dolls made it big; Kewpie doll in original box, undated; as the Kewpie craze faded in the 1930s, O’Neill tried to launch a new line called Little Ho Ho, a laughing baby Buddha, but before production plans were finalized the doll factory burned to the ground; a 1935 ad for a Rose O’Neill-branded “Scootles” doll, another attempt at a comeback. (Wikipedia/Pinterest/museumobscura.com)

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Last Call

Lois Long was back with another installment of “Tables for Two” and in these excerpts she found the Central Park Casino a welcome place to hang out, apparently unaware that Parks Commissioner Robert Moses had already served an eviction notice to the Casino’s owners (Moses would tear down the Casino in 1936, mostly to settle a personal vendetta). Long also found respite at the Place Piquale, which featured the musical stylings of Eve Symington.

BYE BYE…The Central Park Casino was not long for the world when Lois Long paid an enjoyable visit in November 1934. Long also found a good time at the Place Piquale, which featured the “startling,” deep voice of cabaret singer Eve Symington. (centralpark.org/Pinterest)

At the Place Piquale, Long was “grateful” to see that silent film star Louise Brooks was also a good dancer. An icon of Jazz Age flapper culture, Brooks loathed the Hollywood scene and the mediocre roles it offered, and after a stint making films in Europe she returned to the States, appearing in three more films before declaring bankruptcy in 1932. A former dancer for the Ziegfeld Follies, Brooks had turned back to dancing in nightclubs to make a living.

IT’S A LIVING…Promotional photo for the Place Piquale featuring Louise Brooks (sans her familiar flapper bob) and Dario in “Spectacular Interpretive Dances,” April 17, 1934. (books0977.tumblr.com)

…and dance remains a theme with John Mosher’s film review of the Fred Astaire and Ginger Roger musical The Gay Divorcee, which was based on the 1932 Broadway musical Gay Divorce starring Astaire and Claire Luce.

YOU WILL HAVE TO DANCE BACKWARD, IN HEELS…Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire trip the light fantastic in The Gay Divorcee. (precode.com)

 * * *

Using Her Heads

Clifton Fadiman praised Peggy Bacon’s collection of caricatures, Off With Their Heads!, which included drawings of fellow New Yorker contributors as well as various Algonquin Hotel acolytes. Excerpt:

HEAD HUNTER…Peggy Bacon offered up caricatures of forty celebrities in her new book, Off With Their Heads! Bacon (1895–1987) contributed cartoons as well as poetry and fiction to The New Yorker from 1927 to 1950. Clockwise, from top left, title page with Bacon’s self-portrait; undated photo of Bacon, likely circa 1930; caricatures of Dorothy Parker, Carl Sandburg and Heywood Broun. (villagepreservation.org/printmag.com/Wikipedia–Peter A. Juley & Son)

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More From Our Advertisers

“Beautiful Vanderbilts” Mrs. Reginald Vanderbilt and Miss Frederica Vanderbilt Webb wowed one unnamed dermatologist who discovered that both had 20-year-old skin even though they were seven years apart! “Mrs. Reginald” was Gloria Morgan Vanderbilt, who was thirty when this ad was produced (Miss Frederica was apparently twenty-three). We’ve met Gloria Morgan Vanderbilt before, shilling for Pond’s—she was the maternal grandmother of television journalist Anderson Cooper, and earned her “bad mom” rep from Vanderbilt vs. Whitney, one of America’s most sensational custody trials…

…we move from skin care to who cares…in this case how many Spud cigs you smoke…hell, smoke three packs a day if you like, the cooling menthol will always keep you feeling fresh even as your lungs gradually darken and shrivel up…

…and here’s a lesson from the makers of Inecto hair dye, no doubt a company solely run by men, who schooled wives with the advice that you’d better color that gray hair pronto or your hubby will kick you to the curb…

…the New York American was a Hearst broadsheet known for its sensationalism, however it did claim Damon Runyon, Alice Hughes, Robert Benchley and Frank Sullivan among its contributors…the morning American merged with the New York Evening Journal to form the American and Evening Journal in 1937. That paper folded in 1966…

…illustrator Stuart Hay drew up this full page ad for the makers of Beech-Nut candy and chewing gum…when I was a kid we used to call this “grandpa gum”…

…on to our cartoonists, we begin with a Thanksgiving spot by Alain (Daniel Brustlein)…

Barbara Shermund delivered another life of the party…

George Price was finally bringing his floating man back to earth…

Otto Soglow gave us an unlikely detour…

Gardner Rea signaled the end to the 1933-34 Chicago World’s Fair…with a boom…

Leonard Dove dialed up a familiar trope…

…and we close on a more pious note, with Mary Petty

Next Time: Al’s Menagerie…

Lunch at the Dog Wagon

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)

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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)

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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)

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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’s Little 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…

Next Time: Sticks and Stones…

Some Pitiful Melodies

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’s Believe 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)

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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…

Next Time: Lunch at the Dog Wagon…

Cleo’s Allure

Claudette Colbert and Henry Wilcoxon in 1934's "Cleopatra." (cecilbdemille.com)

New Yorker film critic John Mosher was in the mood for one of Cecil B. DeMille’s big, splashy epic movies, but was disappointed to find a relatively restrained effort in DeMille’s latest flick, Cleopatra.

August 25, 1934 cover by Rea Irvin.

Perhaps Mosher would have preferred a silent version of the film, finding the dialogue “the worst I have ever heard in the talkies.” Among examples cited by Mosher was Warren William’s Caesar, who utters the word “Nope” to one of his senators.

CLEO BRIO…Clockwise, from top left, Paramount’s trailer for Cleopatra made a bold claim; Cleopatra (Claudette Colbert) hails Caesar after emerging from a rolled up rug that had been presented to the Roman court; Julius Caesar (Warren William) acts unimpressed, but eventually falls for the Egyptian queen before meeting his demise; Marc Antony (Henry Wilcoxon) is the next to fall for Cleopatra’s seductions. It ends badly for both of them. (pre-code.com/obscurehollywood.net)

Despite Mosher’s grumbles, Cleopatra would receive five Academy Award nominations (winning for Best Cinematography) and would become the highest-grossing film released in North America in 1934. That year Claudette Colbert (1903-1996) would appear in three films that were all nominated for the Academy Award for Best Picture—she is the only actress ever to do so.

On the lighter side, Mosher took a liking to Harold Lloyd’s latest picture, The Cat’s Paw, which marked a sharp departure from Lloyd’s trademark slapstick. Lloyd adopted to a calmer pace, “touched with the delicate bloom of satire.”

Moviegoers who associated Lloyd with such pictures as 1923’s Safety Last

(britannica.com)

…would have to settle for this new version of Lloyd, which was even touted on the movie’s promotional poster…

STAYING ON HIS FEET…Fox Pictures touted a “new” Harold Lloyd (except for his trademark glasses) in The Cat’s Paw. At right, Lloyd with co-star Una Merkel. (IMDB/criterionchannel.com)

 * * *

Fun With Philately

After reading a column in The Herald Tribune that concerned interesting stamps and envelopes…

James Thurber found himself inspired to make a brief examination of the “Thurber envelope”…

…which proved to be neither interesting nor unusual (excerpts):

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From Our Advertisers

A couple of colorful advertisements, the first from the folks at Heinz, who invited New Yorker readers to become “Salad Wizards”…

…if being a salad wizard wasn’t good enough, you could pop open a bottle of Cora vermouth and feel downright aristocratic…

…and if you wanted to maintain that aristocratic pose, you’d better know how to serve your tomato juice, and make sure it is prepared by a “famous French Chef”…

…more libations in the back pages…here’s a sampling of three…there must have been a reason why all of the one-column ads featured mixers and spirits on the top and ads for hotels and apartments on the bottom…

…and before we jump into the cartoons, a brief look at illustrator Mildred Oppenheim, who worked under the pseudonym “Melisse.” Her work was seen in the early New Yorker mostly in ads for Lord & Taylor, however she also did work for others including the makers of Cannon towels (seen below). In 1931 The New York Times described her as “a wicked and telling satirist—almost a feminine counterpart of Peter Arno”…

…Melisse ran a cartoon strip, “Real News of New York…A Preview of What’s New,” in the New York Sun from 1933 to 1935. Melisse seemed to be flying high, but in 1940 she declared bankruptcy. However she quickly rebounded in 1941 with an advertising panel for Orbachs—Around Town…with Melisse”—which became a nationally syndicated feature:

(strippersguide.blogspot.com)

…in the 1940s Melisse also produced a variety of drawings and paintings, designed mannequins for window and counter displays, and even produced designs for handkerchiefs and other clothing items. But for all her fame as a commercial illustrator, very little is known about her personal life, or what became of her after 1950. According to Alan Jay of the Stripper’s Guide, Melisse was born in Newark in 1905 and died in Miami in 1993, and was briefly married to another commercial artist in the early 1930s. A December 14, 1934 ad for her “Real News” strip in the Pelham Sun featured her photo:

(strippersguide.blogspot.com)

…on to our well-known New Yorker cartoonists, we begin with the stalwart Rea Irvin

…accompanying part two of a three-part profile of New Deal Administrator Hugh Samuel Johnson was this terrific caricature by Miguel Covarrubias

…never too early to get ready for winter…spot drawing in the opening pages by Alan Dunn

…but there was enough summer left for William Steig’s “Small Fry” to enjoy some leisurely pursuits…

William Crawford Galbraith continued to ply his familiar waters…

…while Al Frueh turned in this gem…

Helen Hokinson found some lively anticipation at the train station…

Garrett Price took us to the seashore…

…while Barbara Shermund kept us abreast of current events…

Next Time: Some Pitiful Melodies…

Dizzy Drinks

During the roughly thirteen years of Prohibition, many Americans had forgotten how to mix a decent cocktail; the concoctions they devised during those dry years were often created to mask the taste of bootleg liquor—sales of Coca-Cola steadily increased throughout the 1920s in part because it made ardent spirits such as rum and whisky a bit more palatable.

August 18, 1934 cover by Ilonka Karasz.

Donald Barr Chidsey examined the phenomenon in “The Talk of the Town,” visiting with traumatized bartenders around Manhattan:

LOST ART…Donald Barr Chidsey relayed the horror of a customer at Sherry’s (top left, photo of the 300 Park Avenue entrance, c. 1925) who asked for ice cream in his rum punch; directly across the street from Sherry’s was the Waldorf Astoria (top right), where a customer asked for a drink of half ice cream, half Coca-Cola; bottom images are from Albert Crockett’s The Old Waldorf-Astoria Bar Book—as to what one gathers from Chidsey’s account, more than a few people needed to check the “Glossarial” to get reacquainted with the spirit world. (Museum of the City of New York/kitchenartsandletters.com)
CUBA LIBRE…According to Chidsey, the go-to for women patrons at the Hotel Weylin was a Barcardi and Coke; at left, Hotel Weylin in 1935; at right, lobby card featuring entertainment at the Weylin Bar, circa 1930s. (Museum of the City of New York/ebay)
THE LAST STRAW…Chidsey wrote of an alarming trend among patrons at Schrafft’s who demanded straws in their Tom Collinses. The sleek, art moderne Schrafft’s at 61 Fifth Avenue was among more than two-dozen Schrafft’s locations in New York City in the 1930s. Known for cleanliness and home-style cooking, target clientele were middle-class women. (Architectural Record photos via daytoninmanhattan.blogspot.com)

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From Our Advertisers

Speaking of Schrafft’s, here is their advertisement from the Aug. 18 issue, offering breakfasts ranging from 35 to 75 cents that apparently were the stuff of O. Henry’s dreams…

…what is a woman to do with a restless husband?…drawing on the wisdom of the ages, she hands him a beer and coaxes him into his easy chair…this ad encouraged women to “always keep a few bottles in your refrigerator”…in other words, keep ’em coming until he settles into a manageable stupor…

…and see just how easily he slips away, leaving you with a few moments to yourself…

…if highballs were more to your taste, the folks at Poland Water stood ready to help…

…R.J. Reynolds claimed their Camels could solve all sorts of life challenges…we’ve seen ads claiming that Camels soothed “jangled nerves” and helped one relax, but apparently they also could give you energy and pep, at least that is what tennis star Ellsworth Vines, Jr claimed…

…lots of color in the ads for the Aug. 18 issue…here the folks at Buick featured a woman in a red dress serving as an exclamation point to their automobile, which was no ordinary motorcar, but rather a “congenial companion, alive with good-natured personality”…

…the folks at General Tire went one better, making their tires the star attraction…those tires look so attractive it seems almost a shame to dirty them on the road…

…on to our cartoons, we cool off with this spot in the opening pages by Alan Dunn

William Cotton contributed this caricature of New Deal Administrator Hugh Samuel Johnson that accompanied a three-part profile…

Rea Irvin offered up a bird of a different feather…

Robert Day gave us this master of understatement…

Alan Dunn again, examining the trials and tribulations of the leisure classes…

Peter Arno offered this take on the Hays Code (after politician Will Hays), which was going into effect after the brief “Pre-Code” period (roughly 1930 to 1934) during which filmmakers felt freer to explore themes featuring sex and violence…

George Price gave us a man have trouble hitting his mark…

Alain (Daniel Brustlein) contributed a cartoon with a talking animal, common today but rare in the early New Yorker

Raeburn Van Buren was also down on the farm…I think we know the answer to this woman’s query…

…and we close with James Thurber, where mixed doubles were naturally fraught with peril…

Next Time: Cleo’s Allure…

Up In The Air

The 1930s saw steady improvements in the fledging airline industry, which catered mostly to major businesses or well-heeled (and somewhat brave) folks who were interested in getting to places relatively quickly. Margaret Case Harriman reported on the many ways one could criss-cross the country by heading to the Newark Airport, the first major airport to serve the New York metro.

August 11, 1934 cover by Constantin Alajalov.

Writing for the “Out of Town” column, Harriman described how someone in 1934 could make their way to Los Angeles by boarding a 9 a.m. American Airlines flight in Newark and then changing over to a “sleeper plane” in Fort Worth around 10 p.m. that same day (top speed of the fastest plane was about 190 mph or 306 kph. The trip also required stops for refueling). The night flight from Fort Worth would deliver the traveler to Los Angeles the following day, at 7:55 a.m.—the trip totaled about 23 hours.

NIGHTY NIGHT…In 1934 American Airlines was the only airline offering “sleeper planes,” as the ad at left claimed. The head of American Airlines, C.R. Smith, was obsessed with customer service and the amenities offered on his Curtiss Condors—roomy airplanes with sleeping berths that Margaret Case Harriman likened to beds in a Pullman railroad car. Passengers loved the Curtiss Condor, although the planes tended to catch fire and pilots found them difficult to fly. (archbridgeinstitute.org/American Airlines)
SKYTRAIN…Top, the passenger section of an American Airlines Curtiss Condor, circa 1930s; below, interior of a Boeing 247—note the steps in the aisle used to cross over the support beams that reinforced the 247’s wings. Also note the female attendant—the profession was dominated by male stewards in the first years of passenger service, but in the 1930s women took over the profession. (American Airlines/bethelgrapevine.com)
TWENTY-TWO HOURS and change on a United Airlines Boeing 247 would get you from Newark to San Francisco in 1934. Top, Passengers are shown boarding a United Airlines Boeing 247 at the Newark Airport circa 1934; United boasted the fastest multi-motored plane service with the 247, but TWA apparently offered the fastest service between coasts with its sleek new DC-2, seen in photo below. (bethelgrapevine.com)
HARD TO BEAT…A TWA Douglas DC-2 could get you to California faster than either United or American—fifteen hours from Newark to Los Angeles. (wahsonline.com)

When we think of flying in the 1930s many of us recall the great travel posters featuring Pan American’s Clipper Ships—flying boats that took passengers to exotic locations in the Caribbean and in Central and South America. Harriman wrote:

FLYING BOAT…Boasting nautical appointments including porthole windows, Pan Am’s Sikorsky S-42 offered roomy seats to its 32 passengers. Top, a postcard image of a Sikorsky S-42 in Miami in the 1930s; below, passenger cabin of the Sikorsky S-42. (clipperflyingboats.com/seawings.com.uk)

Harriman closed with some advice to readers unfamiliar with flying, including putting drops of Argyrol (a silver-protein antiseptic) into ones eyes to “prevent that ticking sensation in the temples.”

 * * *

No Offense Taken

Critic John Mosher was no fan of Jean Harlow’s, but he did acknowledge her box office appeal, and that fans eagerly awaited the Blonde Bombshell’s next picture, The Girl from Missouri…with its “usual plot of a gold-digger and millionaries.” Mosher also noted that Harlow, along with Mae West, was a prime target of reformers (see Hays Code) who wanted to ban “immorality” from the pictures, and he was eager to see how the Puritans had wielded their new censoring shears on the film.

GOING FOR THE GOLD…At right, Lionel Barrymore, Jean Harlow, and Patsy Kelly in The Girl from Missouri. (IMDB)

 * * *

From Our Advertisers

We begin with another ad from the makers of Spud menthol cigarettes, who deployed what seemed like every known visual metaphor to suggest that smoking their cigarettes “all day” would leave one feeling cool, clean and fresh, in this case as a blanket of newly fallen snow (an appealing sight in that hot summer of 1934)…

…R.J. Reynolds deployed any number of tricks to sell their Camels, from ads promoting their health benefits to endorsements by wealthy socialites, in this case Sarah Lippincott (“Mrs. Nicholas Biddle”) of Philadelphia…

…snob appeal was not limited to cigarette ads, as this full page from the folks at Chevrolet attests…

…zooming in on the copy that accompanied the above ad, we find that this fictive Chevy owner was a “marked woman” sought out by paparazzi and admired by couturiers…

Dr. Seuss continued his series of weird ads for Flit insecticide…

Helen Hokinson illustrated this patrician picnic scene to promote Heinz’s line of sandwich spreads…

…and we kick off our cartoons with Helen again, observing a proud moment…

Robert Day offered this observation on modern architecture…

Rea Irvin skewered the puritan set with his latest bird illustration…

William Steig’s precocious “Small Fry” visited Coney Island…

…and we close with E. Simms Campbell, and a sly introduction…

Next Time: Dizzy Drinks…

His Five Cent’s Worth

Above: Final Design of Grand Central Terminal, ca. 1910. (New York Transit Museum)

The heat wave of 1934 spread misery from the Midwest to the East Coast. The temperature in New York City hit 101 degrees F (38.3 C) on June 29, and July recorded at least ten days of temps in the mid- to upper 90s. It must have been miserable in the days before air-conditioning, and since no adult would dare be seen in public wearing shorts and a t-shirt, an outing on a crowded tour boat, as illustrated below by William Cotton, must have been hellish.

July 21, 1934 cover by William Cotton.

…putting a fine point on it, recall this wryly captioned cartoon from the June 30 issue by Garrett Price

…but let us move ahead to the July 28 issue, where E.B. White was hopefully keeping his cool in the men’s waiting room at Grand Central Station, where he plunked down a nickel to cool his heels in the “middle class” section, where he observed side attractions including a vending machine that dispensed handkerchiefs and a coin-operated peep show featuring burlesque star Sally Rand.

NO MASHERS ALLOWED…Separate men’s and ladies’ rooms were available in three classes at Grand Central Station—free, five cents and ten cents. Top, the Ladies’ room, Grand Central Terminal (Central Lines), and below, a men’s room at the station. A nickel back then was worth about a dollar today. (Library of Congress)
NICKEL AND DIMED…Machines similar to these could be found in some men’s waiting rooms at train stations in the 1930s. (pinballhistory.com/comics.ha.com)

…White referred to a peep show that featured famed fan dancer Sally Rand

DOING HER DEEP KNEE BENDS…Sally Rand in the 1930s. (www.vintag.es)

White also commented on the growing number of travelers, still pinched by the Depression, opting for the free section:

We settle in with the June 21 issue (which leads this post) with White once again, this time enjoying a drive to Stamford, Conn., where he admired the “splendor” of the Condé Nast printing plant (apparently the plant also printed The New Yorker, although the magazine itself would not be acquired by Condé Nast’s parent company, Advance Publications, until 1985).

ONLY A MEMORY…Postcard image of the Condé Nast printing plant; at left, a relic of the long-gone plant, one of two pillars that flanked the road to the plant. (Greenwich Historical Society/greenwichtime.com)

 * * *

Disney’s Other Mouse

Film critic John Mosher was a fan of Disney’s “Silly Symphony” cartoon shorts, which were produced between 1929 and 1939. Animation, and especially color animation, was in its infancy, so these doubtless had an uplifting effect on many moviegoers.

DON’T CALL ME TINKERBELL…The Butterfly Fairy brought some Disney magic to 1934’s The Flying Mouse. (disney.fandom.com)

 * * *

The Great McGonigle

W.C. Fields appeared in more than a dozen silent films before making his first talkie, 1930’s The Golf Specialist, and it was in sound films that Fields was able to truly express his vaudevillian wit. It was also in the sound era that Fields teamed up with Baby LeRoy for three films (in 1933 and 1934), including The Old Fashioned Way, in which Fields portrayed “The Great McGonigle,” leader of a traveling (and perpetually underfunded) theater troupe who was always a step ahead of police and creditors. Critic John Mosher found the film’s riff on an old morality play, The Drunkard, to be a bit dated, but overall thought it a cheerful diversion.

HONK…Baby LeRoy, aka Ronald Le Roy Overacker (1932–2001), was just 16 months old when he became the youngest person ever put under term contract by a major studio. He is best known for his appearances in three W. C. Fields films: Tillie and Gus (1933), The Old Fashioned Way (1934) and It’s a Gift (1934). (Rotten Tomatoes/IMDB)

 * * *

From Our Advertisers

We begin with scientific proof (from a “famous research laboratory in New York”) that Camel cigarettes increased one’s flow of energy…

…if that crackpot claim doesn’t get you, here’s one that recommended downing a PBR before a big meeting, a sure remedy for that “listless, tired-out feeling”…

…of course we all know that a few sugary Cokes will get you going…back then they were taking it in six- and ten-ounce bottles, not 30- to 50-ounce Big Gulps…

…it’s not every day you see a dog food ad in The New Yorker…in the 1930s there was no secret to where ol’ Sparky ended up…

…popular were these Rockwellian ads that equated various products with happy and wholesome (and safe) living, in this case a massive “Dual-Balloon” tire that dominated this tableau featuring a stylish mommy and her little boy slumming with an old sea salt…

…the folks at Essex House hired an illustrator who did his or her best to channel Helen Hokinson and William Steig for this New Yorker ad…as we have seen before, Essex House ads walked a fine line between thrift and snob appeal…

…on to our cartoons, beginning with Ned Hilton, whose work appeared in The New Yorker from 1934 to 1957…

Mary Petty recorded some sweet nothings by the seaside…

George Price drifted along with two men and tuba…

Carl Rose revealed a modest side to life at a nudist colony…

…we know Clarence Day for his Life With Father series, but on occasion he also contributed illustrated poems such as this one from the July 21 issue…

…on to July 28…

July 28, 1934 cover by Adolph K. Kronengold.

…where we encounter more “scientific research” that encouraged folks to smoke…This ad was placed on the very last page of the July 28 issue by the Cigarette Research Institute, based in Louisville, Kentucky…

…the booklet was filled with “amazing facts” uncovered in a “scientific investigation,” facts did not address the health effects of smoking, but rather such important topics as how to hold a cigarette the right way and how to reduce staining on your teeth…it also helpfully debunked the notion that nicotine was a “dread demon”…

…take for example this woman smoking a Lucky…now she knew how to hold a cigarette!…

…the folks at Essex House were back, aggressively playing the class/caste card…apparently if you lived there you were entitled to kick your old friends to the curb…

…the antacid and pain reliever Bromo-Seltzer was ubiquitous in 1930s medicine cabinets, but after the recipe was changed in the 1970s (all Bromides were withdrawn from the U.S. market in 1975) the brand slowly fizzled away…

Mildred Oppenheim Melisse was a popular illustrator of ads for department stores and various household goods, including Cannon towels, here guaranteed to absorb even this man’s sweaty “flood”…

Dr. Seuss back again for Flit, once again having no issues mixing insecticide with food preparation…

Rea Irvin kicks off the cartoons with his Double Breasted Dowager…

Helen Hokinson found some misplaced pity at a garden party…

Garrett Price offered some unsolicited advice…

Reginald Marsh filled two pages with a scene from Central Park…

Robert Day looked for a unique experience at an auto camp…

…and we close with Barbara Shermund, and some alarming news on the domestic front…

Next Time: Men of Mystery…

The Happy Warrior

Above: Al Smith waving to crowds on arrival at Chattanooga, Tennessee during his presidential campaign in 1928. (Museum of the City of New York)

It’s hard to not like Al Smith, the governor of New York from 1923 to 1928, a man who avoided the temptations of political power and stayed true to his working class roots of the Lower East Side.

July 14, 1934 cover by Rea Irvin.

The son of Irish, Italian and German immigrants, Alfred Emanuel Smith (1873–1944) was raised in the Tammany Hall-dominated Fourth Ward, and although he was indebted to Tammany’s political machine throughout much of his professional life (including stints in the New York State Assembly and as York County Sheriff, President of the Board of Alderman, and finally Governor) he remained untarnished by corruption. Smith’s unsuccessful bid for the U.S. presidency in 1928 put an end to his political life, but there was still much to do, as “The Talk of the Town” explained:

HALL MONITORS…At left, Charles “Silent Charlie” Murphy with Al Smith in 1915. Murphy was the longest-serving head of Tammany Hall (1902 to 1924), and was known for transforming Tammany’s image from one of corruption to semi-respectability; at right, in 1929, Smith greets Franklin D. Roosevelt, who had just succeeded him as governor. (Library of Congress/Wikipedia)

Smith first sought the Democratic presidential nomination in 1924. According to historian Robert Slayton, Smith advanced the cause of civil liberty by decrying lynching and racial violence at the 1924 Democratic National Convention, where Franklin D. Roosevelt delivered the nominating speech for Smith and saluted him as “the Happy Warrior of the political battlefield.”

Following his 1928 presidential election loss to Herbert Hoover, Smith became president of Empire State, Inc., the corporation that built and also operated the Empire State Building, which was then the tallest building in the world. Smith was also known for his fondness of animals, and in 1934 Parks Commissioner Robert Moses made Smith “Honorary Night Zookeeper” of the renovated Central Park Zoo. Smith was given keys to the zoo and often took guests to see the animals after hours. According to Rebekah Burgess of the NYC Department of Parks and Recreation, “As a resident of 820 Fifth Avenue, directly across the street from the entrance of the Central Park Zoo, Smith was known to appear with snacks for the animals or to launch into impromptu lectures for visitors. Al Smith took his honorary title to heart. Throughout the rest of his life, Smith could often be found attending to the animals at the zookeepers’ sides during open hours. At night, Smith visited with guests, or more often, one-on-one with the animals.”

Smith was also a humanitarian, and in addition to advocating for the working class, he was an early critic of the Nazi regime in Germany, vigorously supporting the Anti-Nazi boycott of 1933. Here is another excerpt from the “Talk” piece:

LIFE OUTSIDE THE OFFICE…Scenes of post-political life, clockwise from top left: Al Smith fishing in 1933; with his family at the May 1, 1931 opening of the Empire State Building—Smith’s grandchildren cut the ribbon; golfing in 1930 with baseball great Babe Ruth in Coral Gables, Florida; with Rosie, the hippopotamus, at the Central Park Zoo, 1928. (Museum of the City of New York/Wikipedia)

 * * *

Culture Club

In the Nov. 9, 1929 issue of The New Yorker Murdock Pemberton hailed the opening of the Roerich Museum. For the July 14, 1934 issue, “The Talk of the Town” took another look. A brief excerpt:

MORE THAN A BUILDING…”The Talk of the Town” noted the changing shades of the art deco landmark Master Building on Riverside Drive (left, in 1929) which originally housed the Nicholas Roerich Museum. Today the Roerich is located in this brownstone at 319 West 107th. (Wikipedia)
FOOTNOTES FROM A FULL LIFE…Two of Nicholas Roerich’s paintings from the 1920s: at top, Remember, 1924; below, Drops of Life, 1924. (roerich.org)

 * * *

Itinerant Showman

Alva Johnston filed the first installment of a three-part profile of famed sports promoter Jack Curley (1876–1937). A brief excerpt:

FIGHT CLUB…Sports promoter Jack Curley (left) with boxing manager Eddie Kane, circa 1920. (Library of Congress)

 * * *

Over There

In his column “Of All Things,” Howard Brubaker made this brief mention of the “Night of the Long Knives;” on June 30, 1934 Adolf Hitler ordered SS guards to murder the leaders of the paramilitary SA along with hundreds of other perceived or imagined opponents.

Here is a clip from the front page of The New York Times, July 3, 1934:

(The New York Times)

 * * *

Pimm’s and Soda

July in England meant Wimbledon, and The New Yorker was there to observe the “snobbish and sacred” rite…

WATCH THE BOUNCING BALL…British tennis great Fred Perry (left) and Australian Jack Crawford before their men’s singles final at the 1934 Wimbledon tournament, which Perry won. Perry would claim three consecutive titles between 1934 and 1936. (Image: Mirrorpix)

 * * *

Midsummer Dreams

In the summertime (and before widespread use of air conditioning) stage entertainments such as theater and musical performances took to the outdoors during their off-season, seeking the evening cool of intimate rooftops or large, open venues such as Lewisohn Stadium, A brief excerpt describing a performance of Samson et Dalila:

EVENING SHADE: Andre Kostelanetz conducts at Lewisohn Stadium in 1939. The stadium was demolished in 1973 to make way for City College of New York’s North Academic Center. (PressReader.com)

 * * *

From Our Advertisers

The folks at struggling carmaker Hupmobile took out this bold, full-page ad to tout their flashy “Aero-Dynamic” by noted designer Raymond Loewy

…this ad from Harriet Hubbard Ayer was bold in a very different way, essentially calling some women ugly unless they used the company’s “beauty preparations”…

…consommé, a clear soup that was particularly popular among the upper classes, offered up some keen competition between two food giants…here Heinz enlisted the help of William Steig to move their product…

…while the folks at Campbell’s offered up this lovely patio setting for their “invigorating” consommé…

…meanwhile, White Rock mineral water could be found on patios all over Manhattan, as this ad attested…

…this is a reminder that most city folks had their milk and other dairy products delivered in the early part of the 20th century…by the early 1960s about 30 percent of consumers still had their milk delivered, dropping to 7 percent by 1975 and .4 percent by 2005…

…affordable home air-conditioning wouldn’t be available to the masses until after World War II…this unit (designed for a single room) from Frigidaire retailed for $340 (a little less than $8,000 today)…

…on to our cartoonists, we begin with Robert Day in the “Goings On’ section…

…Day again, exploring the baffling, glassy interiors of modern restaurants…

…the birdwatching continued with Rea Irvin

Alain (Daniel Brustlein) gave us a swimming somnambulist…

Helen Hokinson explored the paranormal, via domestic plumbing…

…and we close with James Thurber, and the missing Dr. Millmoss…

Next Time: His Five Cent’s Worth…

London Calling

Above: Illustration of the Dorchester Hotel’s ballroom in the 1930s. (dorchestercollection.com)

Lois Long took her nightlife column, “Tables for Two,” to London and its famed nightclub scene, where everyone from British royalty to gangsters reveled in a boozy, bohemian scene.

July 7, 1934 cover by Ilonka Karasz.

Prince Edward, a well-known party animal (who would serve as king for less than a year and abdicate in 1936) was known to get up on the stage of the Embassy Club and perform drum solos, while at the Savoy his fellow toffs would sip Champagne and glide in elegant dress across the dance floor. London nightlife included a lively jazz scene in edgy Soho basement clubs, featuring such greats as Duke Ellington, Louis Armstrong and Dizzy Gillespie.

Long hoped that the visit to London, her first in eight years, would give her some much-needed rest and a change of scene. What she found instead was a red-hot, all-night party, where the smart set took dinner near midnight and danced until dawn.

SAVVY SAVOY….Clockwise from top left, the famed Savoy bartender Harry Craddock, credited with inventing the White Lady and the Corpse Reviver, at the Savoy’s American Bar in the 1930s; a Savoy elevator operator in 1926; diners at the Savoy circa 1930s; Savoy entrance. (madamgenevaandgent.co.uk/The Savoy/YouTube)
LONDON SWINGS…More Lois Long haunts in London included, clockwise from top left, the Dorchester Hotel; the crowded dance floor at the Monseigneur with Roy Fox and his Orchestra (photo from 1932); patrons kicking up their heels at the Embassy Club on Old Bond Street; the Café de Paris, where American actress Louise Brooks demonstrated a new dance craze, The Charleston, in 1924. (dorchestercollection.com/albowlly.club/lucyjanesantos.com/Wikipedia)

 * * *

Misery Loves Company

In his “Notes and Comment,” E.B. White observed that almost everyone was “made miserable” by the Depression, but if one looked around there were signs that things weren’t so bad after all.

REASON FOR CHEER…For those still feeling blue about the Depression, E.B. White suggested watching kids cool off at a pier, such as these lads seen diving into the East River on the Lower East Side on July 3, 1935. (Jack Gordon/New York Daily News)

 * * *

He Came Up a Bit Short

Howard Brubaker, in his column “Of All Things,” made this observation about Adolf Hitler’s prediction that Nazism would endure a thousand years.

And now a retreat into the cool darkness of the cinema, where John Mosher singled out Bette Davis’s performance in Of Human Bondage…Mosher’s instincts were correct—the film proved to be Davis’s breakout role on her road to major stardom.

ROAD TO RUIN…Bette Davis wowed the critics with her portrayal of a tearoom waitress who seduces a young medical student (Leslie Howard) and leads him down a path of self-destruction. The film was based on the 1915 novel by W. Somerset Maugham. (IMDB)

Mosher also took in the “bright” performances of William Powell and Myrna Loy in The Thin Man, a pre-Code comedy-mystery based on the Dashiell Hammett novel by the same name. Powell and Loy portrayed Nick and Nora Charles, who added spice to their leisurely lives through numerous cocktails, flirtatious banter, and crime-solving. Critics loved the film, as did audiences, spawning five sequels from 1936 to 1947.

CHEERS…Top photo: Nick and Nora Charles (William Powell and Myrna Loy) enjoy a drink with their client’s fiancee (Henry Wadsworth) in The Thin Man (1934); Bottom photo: Charles takes aim at a Christmas ornament (with a BB gun) while Nora enjoys the comforts of her new fur coat in a scene from The Thin Man. (Daily Beast/Austin Chronicle)

Another star of the show was Asta, the Charles’s wire fox terrier. Asta was portrayed by Skippy, a dog actor who not only appeared in The Thin Man films but also acted alongside Cary Grant in 1937’s The Awful Truth and in 1938’s Bringing Up Baby. Skippy appeared in three Thin Man movies and in more than twenty films altogether between 1932 and 1941. Being an actor in the film must have been good for one’s health: Powell lived 91 years, Loy 88 years, and Skippy, 20 years—a good long life for any pooch.

ROUGH NIGHT…Nick (William Powell) and Asta (Skippy) tend to Nora (Myrna Loy), who nurses a hangover in The Thin Man. (Wikipedia)

 * * *

From Our Advertisers

While Chrysler’s styling of their streamlined Airflow proved to be too far advanced for the buying public (the Depression didn’t help), Studebaker’s own foray into the streamlined future caused a sensation…

…thanks to Studebaker’s brief merger with Pierce-Arrow (1928–33), Studebaker’s designers took cues from Pierce’s streamlined 1933 Silver Arrow and created more than 800 cars with “Year-Ahead” design features—the positive reception convinced the company to continue the style in 1935…here is a top-of-the-line 1934 President Land Cruiser…

1934 Studebaker President Land Cruiser with “Year-Ahead” design features, yet not as radical as Chrysler’s Airflow. (hemmings.com)

and the car that inspired it…

1933 Pierce-Arrow Silver Arrow. Photo copyright Darin Schnabel, courtesy RM Sotheby’s, via hemming.com.

…we continue with those round rubber things that held the cars up…a lot of tire ads in the 1930s emphasized safety—blowouts were common back then…funny how it took nearly four decades to add seat belts to cars…those tires wouldn’t help much in a head-on collision, especially with your kid standing on the from seat…

…now let’s cool off with crisp Canadian Ale, thanks to Carling’s entry into the American market…

…Carling’s Black Label beer was popular in the states…my parents had a set of these coasters with the Black Label tagline…

…Budweiser continued its artful series of ads featuring the well-heeled enjoying its product…here it appears old dad (wearing some kind of medal) is getting to know his daughter-in-law over some cold chicken…”hey boy, she’s one of us!”…

…and we move on to three very different approaches to selling cigarettes, beginning with Spud, continuing its message that menthol cigarettes are as refreshing as a shower on a July afternoon…

…a close up of the message…

…Camel, on the other hand, continued its campaign against irritability…it apparently did wonders for this woman, who seems to be on something more than nicotine…

…and from the people who brought us the tagline “blow some my way” in 1928 (as a way to encourage women to take up the habit), by 1934 she is owning that cigarette, and apparently setting some ground rules with the gentleman…

…contrast with the more submissive pose in the Chesterfield ad from the late 1920s…

…on to our cartoons, we begin with spot art by Alan Dunn, which appears to have originated as a captioned cartoon…

William Steig offered up this bit of art for a profile of an “insurance man” by St. Clair McKelway

Helen Hokinson drew up a full page of cartoons along the theme of outdoor dining…

…we continue Rea Irvin’s series on native birds…

George Price found a way to save on the cost of light bulbs…

…and we close with James Thurber, and a welcome to the family…

Next Time: The Happy Warrior…

A Light in Darkness

Above: For this Hollywood-heavy post we feature stars of the 1930s—the two Joans, Joan Blondell (left) and Joan Crawford, marking the Fourth of July holiday.

The New Yorker marked the Fourth of July with this William Steig cover featuring a patriotic “strap” along the binding and one of his precocious “Small Fry”…

June 30, 1934 cover by William Steig.

We’ve been looking at ways New Yorkers kept their cool in the hot summer of 1934, and one way to beat the heat was to escape into the air-conditioned darkness of a movie theater. It was not uncommon for folks to remain seated after the credits rolled and watch the feature all over again,  just enjoy some cold comfort.

Film critic John Mosher no doubt enjoyed this particular perk, and perhaps this made him a bit more agreeable to whatever was playing on the big screen, including three rather dull pictures featuring actresses Marion Davies, Kay Francis and Elissa Landi.

Marion Davies (1897–1961) was the veteran of the group, beginning her film career in 1917 and appearing in thirty silent films before breaking into sound movies. Sadly, her talents as an actress and comedian were overshadowed by her reputation as William Randolph Hearst’s mistress. Known for her aristocratic bearing, Austrian-American actress Elissa Landi (1904–1948) appeared in several British silents and on Broadway before signing with Fox Films in 1931. Kay Francis (1905–1968) began her film career with the advent of sound movies in 1929. A major box-office draw for Warner Brothers, by 1935 Francis was one of Hollywood’s highest-paid actors (she was also a former roommate and longtime friend of The New Yorker’s Lois Long).

BEFORE SCARLETT AND RHETT…Gary Cooper and Marion Davies as star-crossed lovers in the 1934 Civil War drama Operator 13. Davies portrayed actress Gail Loveless, recruited by the Union to infiltrate a Confederate camp, where she falls for Capt. Jack Gailliard, a Confederate officer played by Cooper. (IMDB)

Perhaps one of the more notorious examples of a white actor in blackface, Operator 13 featured Davies as a Union spy who poses as a Black maid to infiltrate a Confederate camp…

FOOLING NO ONE…Marion Davies, in blackface, with Sam McDaniel in Operator 13. (IMDB)
PLAYING DOCTOR…Kay Francis and Warren William in the 1934 Pre-Code drama Dr. Monica. (IMDB)
JUST KEEP PRETENDING UNTIL THE CREDITS…From left, Adolphe Menjou, Elissa Landi, and David Manners in the 1934 romantic comedy The Great Flirtation. (IMDB)

 * * *

Sentimental Journey

Another critic enjoying the cool of the theater was Robert Benchley, who used this break in the Broadway season to reveal his passions regarding a number of stage actresses. An excerpt:

BENCHLEY’S BROADWAY…Robert Benchley’s all-time favorite Broadway actresses included, from top row, left to right, Maud Adams, Florence Reed, Gladys Hanson, and Charlotte Walker; second row, from left, Laura Hope Crews, Julia Marlowe, Maxine Elliott, and Ethel Barrymore; third row, Janet Beecher, Ina Claire, Marguerite Clark, and Jane Cowl; fourth row, Elsie Ferguson, Martha Hedman, Marjorie Rambeau, and Pauline Frederick. (NYPL/Wikipedia/IMDB)

 * * *

A Poke at Palooka

In his column “Of All Things,” Howard Brubaker took a shot below the belt at the new heavyweight boxing champ, Max Baer.

WHO SEZ I CAN’T READ?…Max Baer in the 1930s. (boxing.fandom.com/wiki)

 * * *

From Our Advertisers

It was hot outside, folks were cooling off with their favorite beverages, and advertisers responded in kind…we begin with a familiar green bottle, and with apologies to Max Baer, you didn’t need to know how to read to know this was a bottle of Perrier…

…if your taste was more on the domestic side, there was White Rock…

…a series of Hoffman Club Soda ads sought to convince consumers about their superior carbonation…

…or how about a brandy, perhaps lightly chilled, especially if it’s late in the evening, and you happen to be sitting on a breezy hotel rooftop…

…or you could cool down with a Lion beer…considered a heritage brewery, Lion Brewery is one of only ten pre-Prohibition breweries that has independently and continuously operated since the repeal of Prohibition…

…a fairly new brand of cigarettes, Marlboro, was still taking out these bargain-sized ads to build brand recognition…Flit insecticide, on the other hand, was well-known thanks to these ubiquitous Dr. Seuss ads…

…the folks at General Tire & Rubber were the latest advertiser to tie their product to the glamour of aviation…

…and on to our cartoons, we begin with another installment of native birds via Rea Irvin

Al Frueh chimed in with this three-panel encounter at a nudist colony…

Robert Day presented a case of indigestion…

Garrett Price welcomed us aboard a dream cruise…

George Price gave us this gem in the “Goings On About Town” section,,,

Gardner Rea gave us his spare line to illustrate an enormous space…one of his specialties…

Gilbert Bundy marked the Fourth with an entitled jaywalker…

…and we close with Mary Petty, and a banker’s contentment…

Next Time: London Calling…