Showing posts with label Igor Stravinsky. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Igor Stravinsky. Show all posts

Tuesday, March 24, 2015

A Look at the New Yorker's Fifth Issue

The New Yorker's fifth cover of March 21, 1925 is the first to feature the City's spectacular skyline. From our rooftop vantage point, we see a couple, their hats off, enjoying the mild spring weather and taking in the scenery. They are joined by a couple of stray cats. This is a romantic image intended to be a crowd-pleaser. Yet it is Carl Fornaro's only New Yorker cover.
Carl Fornaro, The New Yorker, March 21, 1925
Carl Fornaro is better known as Carlo de Fornaro. Did the New Yorker ask him to anglicize his name? Here's his 1902 caricature of John Jacob Astor from the Smithsonian:
Carlo de Fornaro, John Jacob Astor, Relief print on paper, 1902
National Portrait Gallery, Smithsonian Institution


The New Yorker's "The Talk of the Town" section appears once again right below the masthead. The impressive Advisory Editors remain in place, but what on earth are they advising? The "Talk" piece on the Prohiibition Authority is all but unreadable, as is most of the 32 page  magazine.
"The Talk of the Town"
Pan appeared, it will be remembered, on the March 14 cover welcoming in the spring. Here the welcome continues as a piping Pan is joined by other perennial signs of spring: blooming tulips, a budding tree, and a sleeveless flapper .

This note on the Kit Kat Ball dismisses the social affair as bland compared with how artsy it was in the old days, and describes some of the participants as "great hearts from Dubuque, and the inevitable man from Yonkers." The ongoing reference to editor Harold Ross's "old lady in Dubuque" comment, the elderly archetype for whom the New Yorker is decidedly not edited, surely means Ross thinks he has a winning catch-phrase here. The reference is coupled with "the inevitable man from Yonkers" just in case we don't get the point, and to ensure that there are more out-of-town "types" New Yorkers can feel superior to.

Yet Reginald Marsh depicts that very same Kit Kat Ball as a scene of utter mayhem. There seems to be a disconnect between the editorial and the artistic coverage of the event, with a half-hearted attempt to bridge the gap by labeling Marsh's spread "An Impression." Mislabeling the event the Good Bad Ball is a reference to the play "A Good Bad Woman" which was cited often in the contemporary censorship debate.
Reginald Marsh, The Kit Kat (or the Good Bad) Ball--An Impression

 A spot drawing captures the bustling vitality of the sidewalk.

John F. Hylan, a Democrat, has been the Mayor of New York since 1918. He will leave office at the end of 1925. Today Hylan Boulevard, a major thoroughfare in Staten Island, is named for him.
Miguel Covarrubias, Sketch of the New Monument Proposed by The Interest for City Hall Park,
"Mr. Hylan Takes a Stand"


"Of All Things" starts with a play on words about selling New York.

Umbrella thief:

Ross is on the defensive again, defending the magazine's intensive coverage of the New York World's campaign to clean up the theatre. He is also defending himself regarding his comments about the old lady in Dubuque. He seems to keep spoiling for a fight, willing to irritate countless Iowans in order to illustrate that his magazine is for a more sophisticated, cosmopolitan audience.

W. Heath Robinson's tonic to increase your weight has the desired effect on arachnids. This is a rather unpleasant gag, no?
W. Heath Robinson, The New Tonic for Those Who Are Losing Weight

For the "Profiles" page, Hans Stengel illustrates Arthur Hopkins.
"Profiles:  A Timid Little Man"
Illustration of Arthur Hopkins by Hans Stengel
Many of these names are still familiar:

Eugene Speicher is the art world luminary profiled in the New Yorker's second issue.
Here's how the painting turned out:
Eugene Speicher, Katharine Cornell
Sinclair Lewis's novel "Arrowsmith" is reviewed in this issue.

Al Smith was the Democratic Governor of New York. He would run for President in 1928 against Republican Herbert Hoover. If you don't know how that turned out, see me after class.

Heywood Broun's resignation from the New York World was the subject of much editorial commentary in The New Yorker's third issue. Broun is a friend of Ross's from the Algonquin Round Table crowd.

W. E. Heitland's one cartoon isn't a cartoon at all. It's a story illustration.
W. E. Heitland, "I've Got to Have Fifty Cases To-night.  Got 'Em Promised to a Guy in Hartford"

"Story of Manhattankind" continues. So do the "Lyrics from the Pekinese." Someone should retire these features.
Rea Irvin[?], Mermaid

The big controversy over the theatre censorship championed by the New York World has ended, apparently, with a whimper. The "big emotional upheaval" at the World must be the death of Joseph Pulitzer's wife following an automobile accident.
"The Theatre"

A page entitled "And They Do Say" has hit-or-miss humor that is mostly miss.

Ralph Barton's theatre piece is illustrates two different shows. The artist's words, with contrasting uses of "bear up" and "bearing down," shows more originality than most of the writing in the issue.
Ralph Barton, Idyllic Moments from the Current Theatre
Miss Doris Keane and Mr. Leon Errol Stub Their Several Toes

Cover artist Carl Fornaro also provides a caricature of composer Igor Stravinsky on the "Music" page.
Carl Fornaro, Igor Stravinsky

The "Goings On" page remains informative. Capsule reviews for the longer-running plays have been rewritten for this issue. Katharine Cornell is leaving "Candida," but as noted above she will have her portrait painted by Eugene Speicher. Alfred Lunt and Lynn Fontanne may be seen together in "The Guardsman." Al Jolson and Fanny Brice are still in town (not shown). Elie Nadleman's sculptures are on view in a gallery. Most intriguing of all, Rachmaninoff is playing at Carnegie Hall.
"Goings On"

A musical spot drawing...
Spot Drawing

"The Optimist" is repeated yet again, an irrelevant snippet of text made all the more pointless by being reprinted over and over. But perhaps that's the point. Eldon Kelley's cartoon exposes the truth about glamorous transatlantic voyages when the press cameras aren't present.
Eldon Kelley, The Actress:  A Mid-ocean Snapshot and a Dockside Pose for Camera Men

Gus Mager's first New Yorker cartoon takes us on a journey through a cavernous Penn Station completed just 15 years earlier. (This incarnation of Penn Station was demolished in 1963 and replaced with a new Penn Station which opened in 1968 topped by Madison Square Garden. Plans are today being considered to relocate Madison Square Garden in preparation for a brand new Penn Station. I hope you're taking notes.)
Gus Mager, Mammoth Cave Guide Lost in the Subway

It's just possible the New Yorker's target audience was college-age men.
Eldon Kelley, A Bedtime Story
The Radio--"Oh Look!  The Bunny Brings the Easter Eggs"

The late Anna Held was a Ziegfeld showgirl and the impresario's common-law wife. Mabel Taliaferro appeared in "Polly of the Circus" on stage in 1908. (She was not in the 1917 movie of the same name.)

The following short notices are so slight they hardly merit publication. F. P. A. is Franklin P. Adams, writer of the newspaper column "The Conning Tower." Both he and Ross were members of the Algonquin Round Table, and the first item could certainly be a report of a short telephone conversation they had. The minor anecdote about Richard Simon may also involve Ross or another member of the editorial staff. The note on the Macy's sign is not the sort of writing that can sustain a magazine for any duration. F. Scott Fitzgerald's short story "Bernice Bobs Her Hair" was published in the Saturday Evening Post five years earlier. Hair bobbing is still the fashion apparently.


Ross is using more by-lines now. This short piece is by the humorist Corey Ford, friend to several members of the Algonquin Round Table. There is lots of writerly namedropping here: Heywood Broun, Robert Benchley, Alexander Woollcott, and Franklin P. Adams-- all, like Ross, members of the Algonquin Round Table. Nevertheless, there is not much reward for reading this short piece all the way through. Corey Ford will later give the name Eustace Tilley to that fine dandy presiding over the masthead who was featured on the cover of the first issue. 


In the "Books" section, the New Yorker reviews Arrowsmith, the novel by Sinclair Lewis. It was to win the 1926 Pulitzer Prize, which Lewis refused.


 The last words include a final reprise about the old lady in Dubuque:



Note:  Did you happen to catch how the New Yorker welcomed the spring of 1925? Join me for A Look at the New Yorker's Fourth Issue.

Cover illustrator Carl Fornaro may be the same person as Carlo de Fornaro. but he isn't at all the same as Alfred Frueh. That's today's lesson for the Condé Nast Collection, which somehow credits Fornaro with Frueh's police scooter cover from the second issue.
Carl Fornaro Prints at the Condé Nast Collection

Finally, this blog offers you the chance to see what Penn Station cartoonist Gus Mager received from the great George Herriman in December of 1943.

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Thursday, June 12, 2014

Lucia Davidova's Copy of George Gershwin's Song-Book

Anyone seeking a fine copy of George Gershwin's Song-Book (1932) illustrated by Constantin Alajálov could look for one of the three-hundred limited edition copies from May 1932 signed by both Gershwin and Alajálov. Here is the limitation page of copy no. 74 sold by Heritage Auctions in 2009 for $3,883.75 including the buyer's premium:

George Gershwin's Song-Book, limited edition, copy 74/300. 1932

A still more extraordinary copy of the book is being offered by Bauman Rare Books. This copy is not from the limited edition. It belonged to Lucia Davidova, associate of Igor Stravinsky and friend of choreographer George Balanchine who contemplated a collaboration with Gershwin on a ballet. Her copy is signed and inscribed by Gershwin in October of 1932. Alajálov also signed and dedicated the book, adding a small "mask" drawing of Davidova herself, or so we are told.


A photograph of Davidova taken in Havana in the 1920's does precious little to indicate how accurate the likeness might be. It's probably not too bad.
Lucia Davidova, second from the right, c. 1920's.

The mask theme, incidentally, appears in the book's illustration accompanying Gershwin's "Fascinating Rhythm."
Constantin Alajálov, "Fascinating Rhythm," George Gershwin's Song-Book, 1932

http://www.ebay.com/itm/George-Gershwins-Song-Book-1st-in-Dj-1932-Jazz-Rare-in-Dust-Jacket-/321326867588?pt=Antiquarian_Collectible&hash=item4ad092e484


Bookseller Image

http://www.baumanrarebooks.com/rare-books/gershwin-george/george-gershwin-s-song-book/83946.aspx


Well, this is quite a rarity, perhaps the most extraordinary copy of this book out there. It is exceptional because it was signed by both author and illustrator, the illustrator provided an original drawing, and the recipient was a close friend of Balanchine's. Original drawings by Alajálov in books are not common; indeed this is the first I've seen. The bookseller's price is $17,500. That's a nice piece of change.

Copies of the George Gershwin Song-Book signed by Gershwin can often by obtained for $4,000 to $5,000 or maybe a little higher. Alajálov's signature is certainly desirable, although whether it adds much value to the book beyond Gershwin's I'm not sure. The same goes for the drawing. If an original magazine cover illustration by Alajálov should be worth on the order of, say, $3,000 to $5,000, then it's exceedingly generous to suggest a minor drawing might add $500 to the value of the book. The value of the association with Lucia Davidova I find hard to quantify as well. Surely it's worth more than a book with no such association. But is the whole thing worth $17,500? The market will tell. Perhaps there's some synergy among the elements of a rare book, with autographs, drawings, and associations combining to propel the value to a level in excess of the sum of any of the individual elements. And surely there is no better copy of the book available at any price.

But there is another way of looking at it. With $17,500 to spend, a Gershwin lover might very well wish to spring for the book. A fan of Alajálov, on the other hand, could spend the same amount of money and put together a very fine collection of  original published art, including several magazine covers and other high-quality items. That's not a bad option.


November 27, 2016 Update:  The book is no longer available and presumed sold.


Note:  By all means see what else I have to say about the artwork of Constantin Alajálov.

This blog contains many examples of original drawings made inside of books!

There are also a few blog posts on the music of George Gershwin.

Don't forget about Friday the 13th!

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Tuesday, January 1, 2013

Saul Steinberg: Happy New Year to Igor Stravinsky

Composer Igor Stravinsky must have been delighted to receive this 1953 New Year's gift from artist Saul Steinberg. Steinberg created a fair number of drawings on music paper, and, not at all surprisingly, many of them had musical themes. This one features a bandleader conducting cat and bird animal players. The bodies of Steinberg's birds are often his fingerprints. Fingerprints carry special significance for Steinberg and are key autobiographical as well as graphic elements in his book The Passport (1954).

Passantino Brand No. 92 identifies the type of music paper. I don't believe it is meant to be Steinberg's title.

Saul Steinberg, 1953
Signed and inscribed "To Igor Stravinsky, Happy New Year"
Heritage Auctions Listing, November 10, 2006





Saul Steinberg, 1953
Signed and inscribed "To Igor Stravinsky, Happy New Year"
Heritage Auctions Listing, November 10, 2006




Saul Steinberg, 1953
Signed and inscribed "To Igor Stravinsky, Happy New Year"
Heritage Auctions Listing, November 10, 2006




Saul Steinberg, 1953
Signed and inscribed "To Igor Stravinsky, Happy New Year"
Heritage Auctions Listing, November 10, 2006


Saul Steinberg, 1953
Signed and inscribed "To Igor Stravinsky, Happy New Year"
Heritage Auctions Listing, November 10, 2006


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