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Times Square Tintypes: George M. Cohan
In this chapter from his 1932 book, Times Square Tintypes, Broadway columnist Sidney Skolsky profiles George M. Cohan, hoofer, song writer, playwright and all-around theatrical giant.
“STARS AND STRIPES FOREVER”
He’s a dancer and a singer and a song writer and a master of slang and an actor and a director and a producer and a playwright and a philanthropist and he’s GEORGE M. COHAN
The “M” stands for Michael. Hates to be called George by anyone he thinks is not entitled to use it.Comes from a family of hoofers. Later famous as “The Four Cohans.” He was always on the stage. When only a baby his parents parked him backstage in a basket while they did their act.
He is very charitable. Never gives to societies, but takes care of individual cases. This is one subject he will not speak about. Yet without exaggeration he has given away over a million dollars.
At rehearsals he is in the aisles, on the stage and once was discovered halfway up the proscenium.
His finances are in the hands of Dennis O’Brien. Never knew how much money he had and doesn’t today. If left to himself he would write his fortune away. His is one of the wealthiest men in the show business.
His shoes cost $45 a pair. They are handmade. Orders half a dozen pairs at a time.
He sent George Fuller Golden to Colorado for his health. Did this unsolicited and handed Golden $10,000 in cash. Told him to write for more when that was gone. This is merely one of thousands of cases.
Gave his mother the entire royalties of Get Rich Quick Wallingford as a Christmas present.
First man to use the American flag to “stop the show.” Also the first to glorify it on stage. He has been called the “Yankee Doodle Boy.” Is also said to be a representative American type. Of all things, he was born on July 4. The year, 1878.
Nothing that he ever wrote had an unclean line or situation.
He hasn’t temperament. Doesn’t wear the high hat. Just the same old felt or derby tilted on the side.
Prefers the company of theatrical folks.
He writes all his stuff with a yellow pencil on yellow paper.
He is the only man who ever turned out musical comedies single-handed. Beginning with Little Johnny Jones, he has written the music and lyrics, the book, staged the dances, rehearsed the cast and orchestra, arranged settings and costumes, and played in them.
Wrote over one hundred plays and signed only forty.
A great deal of his charity, in addition to money, has been in the form of song numbers and acts. Gave these away to help struggling performers. He didn’t receive any payment nor credit lines. A popular pastime was sending him manuscripts to be “Cohanized.”
After watching a show at a dress rehearsal, he knows exactly how much of it will click. Has never gone wrong on one of these predictions. No man in the world understands the audience as well as he.
He rejected the play Broadway and advised William A. Brady not to produce it.
Was the first actor to own an automobile. He paid $2,000 for it. People said only an actor would do a thing like that.
He does not mourn for “the good old days.” After over twenty years on Broadway he can still compete with the new blood. He considers Broadway of today merely a mess of lights.
Cannot and will not write a part for a Jewish character. He claims he doesn’t understand them.
Is a baseball an prize-fight fan. He is very clever with his fists.
Once he was playing baseball and objected to the presence of a colored chap because the fellow got on his nerves. He tolerated him for two innings. He then picked up a bit and chased him out of the park, down two blocks. All of the players were anxious about Cohen’s safety. When he got back they told him the fellow he chased was Joe Walcott, the prize fighter.
Was the first man to collect royalties for vaudeville skits.
Isn’t particular about his clothes. But is fussy about his haircuts. Often has his Astor Hotel barber cut it three times before he is satisfied.
He has written over a thousand songs. He thinks of the music and lyrics of a new song at the same time. The bugle called and he wrote “Over There” in five minutes. The original copy of “Over There” is now in the Harvard Museum among rare and precious American manuscripts.
Times Square Tintypes: Fannie Brice
In this chapter from his 1932 book, Times Square Tintypes, Broadway columnist Sidney Skolsky profiles Fannie Brice, comedienne, singer, and theatre and film actress.
SAY IT WITH SONGS
FANNIE BRICE. She was born at the stroke of midnight on October 29, 1892. Her square moniker is Fannie Borach.
She enjoys a good cry.Hasn’t a long list of friends. But those she has she can tap for anything.
She took the tag of Brice from John Brice, a next-door neighbor. He is now a watchman on the Ninth Avenue elevated. She told him that some day he’d see his name in lights.
Is a good judge of diamonds, furs and the value of real estate.
There is one thing in the world she can’t stand. That is cream in her coffee. It makes her sick.
She is the proud mother of two children. A girl of nine and a boy of seven. Has one brother, Lew, in the theatrical business. Also has one sister, Caroline, who believes that she would be a great actress if she didn’t suffer from asthma.
Her hobby is taking photographs of bedrooms. She has a picture of every bedroom she ever lived in.
Made her stage début at Keeney’s Theater in Brooklyn on amateur night. She won first prize singing, “When You’re Not Forgotten by the Girl You Can’t Forget.”
The only instrument she can play is the piano. That is, if hunting for notes with two fingers can be called playing.
Her father owned a string of saloons. He was known as “French Charlie.” Her mother really ran the saloons, for “French Charlie” was always playing pinochle.
When traveling she takes an electric stove with her. She’ll cook for anybody who wants to eat.
She once worked in a movie house on Eighty-third Street and Third Avenue. Here she sang songs, sold tickets and painted signs. Her salary was $8 a week.
The biggest surprises she ever got, good or bad, were from herself.
Is one of the best dressed women in the theater. Has her dresses designed especially for her by Kiviette. While in Hollywood she made dresses for Dolores Costello and Norma Talmadge. She has thirty dresses she hasn’t gotten to yet.
The moon makes her serious.
When watching Fannie perform her mother always says to the people sitting about her: “That’s my daughter. She’s good, isn’t she?”
She dislikes people who are perfect and have everything. Believes that such people miss something in life.
After she sang “My Man” for the first time her salary was raised from $1,000 to $3,000 weekly.
Her present husband is Billy Rose, who also writes her songs for her. Her nickname for him is “Putsy.”
She’d walk ten miles if she could window shop on the way. Otherwise she wouldn’t walk two blocks.
Her first comedy song was “Sadie Salome.” She sang it merely to help Irving Berlin, then a newcomer, along. It started her on the road to fame and fortune.
She is a card shark.
Times Square Tintypes: Earl Carroll
In this chapter from his 1932 book, Times Square Tintypes, Broadway columnist Sidney Skolsky profiles Earl Carroll, theatrical producer, director, songwriter and composer.
THE LIFE OF THE PARTY
Earl CARROLL. He has a throne, a palace and a title. His throne is an antique Chinese chair. His palace is the theater bearing his name. His title is “The Earl of Seventh Avenue.”
He is extremely polite to everyone. Expects people to be that way to him. Nobody can really get close to him.
He suffers from insomnia.
Was born in Pittsburgh, September 16, 1892. Has two brothers, Norman and James, and one sister, Alice. The brothers don’t look like him or each other. The sister could pass for his twin. When a small boy he was dressed in a white sailor suit.
If he sees a pretty girl on the street he will stop her and ask her if she wants to go on the stage.
At the age of sixteen he stood in the center of Nanking Road, China, with only forty-five cents in his pocket.
His office is backstage of his theater. A rug, the color of pigeon blood, covers the floor. His desk is enclosed in a wall. The pressing of a button shoots it forward. He uses a sword for a paperweight. Has a statue of Buddha here. And a refrigerator with Chinese letters written on it. The letters spell—happiness. In the rear of the office there is a secret panel through which he can make a hasty exit.
He can’t wear a shirt with a collar attached. And all of his vests must be double-breasted.
Once wrote a song with Enrico Caruso. It was “Dreams of Long Ago.” Immediately after joining the army he wrote a song called: “When I’m Through with the Arms of the Army I’ll Come Back to the Arms of You.”
Always throws a party for himself on his birthday.
His favorite type of beauty for the stage is a tall blonde. His own personal taste, however, runs to slender brunettes.
During the war he was a lieutenant in the United States Air Service. He was the first man to land an airplane in Central Park.
While rehearsing a new show he wears a sand-colored smock. His shirt is minus collar and tie. He stands in the orchestra. Has a telephone operator’s apparatus on his head. Through this he gives instructions backstage, under the stage and in the electrician’s booth plastered on the back wall of the balcony. To his left is a small table. His secretary, Miss Ruth, sits here and takes memos. During all this he is continually drinking Poland mineral water and chewing gum.
Likes to use perfume. His two favorites are Caron’s Acaciosa and Gabilla’s Jasmin. He sprays his throat with perfume daily.
On April 10, he and his two brothers and sister always journey to Pittsburgh to visit their mother’s grave. On Mother’s Day he sends flowers.
Was the first man in New York to own a “Starlight Bungalow,” now known as a penthouse. His was located on the roof of 729 Seventh Avenue. He called it “Top o’ the World.” He likes to live high and now resides on the top floor of a tall apartment hotel.
Times Square Tintypes: William A. Brady
In this chapter from his 1932 book, Times Square Tintypes, Broadway columnist Sidney Skolsky profiles William A. Brady, prominent actor, theatrical producer, and sports promoter and father to Hollywood actress Alice Brady.
“THE GAMBLER FROM THE WEST”
William A. Brady. Everybody calls him “Pop.”
He owns five watches but never carries one. Always guesses the time, and is fairly accurate.
Was born in San Francisco, June 19, 1863. Until he was five years old he had a Chinese lady for a nursemaid.Lost a million dollars many times. He owned Within the Law and sold his rights to Arch Selwyn for $10,000. The play netted over a million. Jeanne Eagels brought him the script of Rain to produce. He said: “I no like.” Had Broadway in rehearsal and shelved it on the advice of George M. Cohan. That was another million. He was to be one of the promoters of the Carpentier-Dempsey fight. Had words with Jack Kearns and withdrew. The gate for that battle was a million and a half.
Last year while in a hospital nursing a broken leg, his doctors allowed him to read plays instead of taking sleeping tablets. He the much rejected Street Scene. He is now on his way to another million.
That A in his name is for Augustus.
Always has been interested in sports. He managed James J. Corbett, Jim Jeffries and Youssouf, “the terrible Turk.”
He wears a large brown felt hat. Always has a cigar in his mouth. Even when sleeping. Once was discovered in bed in a mass of flames which a friend put out with a fire extinguisher.
His idea of a good time is to buy champagne for the house. His favorite drink is a tall glass of rye. During the Corbett-Sullivan fight he consumed two quarts of whiskey.
Never carries a cane. Except when looking for a fight.
Alice Brady is his daughter by his first wife, Rose Marie Rene. William Brady, Jr., is his son by his present wife, Grace George.
Hasn’t an automobile, although he did own one for twenty years. His doctor ordered him to give it up because he never took a walk. He seldom crosses the street alone. Always waits for the red light.
He once cut cards with Arnold Rothstein. One cut for $45,000 and won.
Is sad because he isn’t allowed to attend prize fights. He takes and gives every blow himself. The last fight he saw was the Dempsey-Sharkey encounter. After it was over he was so exhausted that he had to be carried three blocks to a taxi.
Loves music. His favorites are “Faust,” “Killarney,” “Massa’s In The Cold, Cold Ground” and “Believe Me If All Those Endearing Young Charms.”
He likes to act and resents being called a ham. His most recent performance was in A Free Soul. Jumped into the leading role on only an hour’s notice. Placed the script on a table in the scene. Whenever he forgot a line he walked to the table.
When a young man he was a natty dresser. Today clothes don’t interest him. Used to wear many diamonds. Recently gave them all to Grace George for a necklace.
Reads all newspapers, trashy magazines and the highbrow ones. His favorite reading matter is the Congressional Record. Reads every line of it during sessions of Congress. Senator Heflin is his favorite comic.
Cleveland, Harrison, McKinley, Roosevelt, Taft, Wilson, Harding, Coolidge and Hoover are the Presidents he knew and knows personally.
His choice of food depends upon what he is drinking. Has a cast-iron stomach. Is especially fond of Mexican tamales.
He claims the toughest job he ever had was managing Louis Mann for five years.
With Sir August Hannis he sneaked into Windsor Castle and disguised as a chorus man appeared before the King and Queen of England in a command performance of The Bohemian Girl.
Once desired to be the youngest man to climb Pike’s Peak. Halfway up he changed his mind and took the train back.
Can recite offhand any speech that Shakespeare ever wrote. Loves to see Shakespearean plays, but not to produce them.
Was arrested and put in prison once. That, when he broke up a street meeting of Dowie, the Evangelist, who was lecturing in front of the old Madison Square Garden.
He started wearing glasses at forty. He was told to do so when he was twenty.
Lives in a penthouse atop a fifteen-story building owns in Fifty-Fifth street. Spends his evenings there listening to the radio and looking out over Broadway. Wants the last thing he looks at before he dies to be a flash of the White Lights.
His credo is, “The Lord is always good to honest gamblers.”
Times Square Tintypes: Samuel Shipman
In this chapter from his 1932 book, Times Square Tintypes, Broadway columnist Sidney Skolsky profiles Samuel Shipman, a playwright of some prominence in the first half of the twentieth century.
NO MAN IS A HERO TO HIS VALET
SAMUEL SHIPMAN. When he was graduated from Columbia this line appeared under his picture in the college book: “God Makes Some Strange Things.”His first play, which he wrote at the age of twelve, was something called Justice. It was performed at the Jewish Educational Alliance.
He is marvelously unkempt. Even after he has had a shave and a haircut he needs a shave and a haircut.
As a kid he wore phony jewelry to appear rich.
Writes all his plays in Atlantic City. He engages a suite in one of the exclusive hotels. He always takes two stenographers an a collaborator with him. He dictates everything he writes. Paces the floor and is often in another room shouting the lines. The stenographers work in relays, one resting while the other is taking the dictation.
He never sleeps more than four hours a day. And always one of these hours is between five and six in the morning.
He made a million dollars in royalties from Friendly Enemies and East Is West. So did Wall Street.
Likes to drink and play with tea. Is always pouring the tea from the glass to the saucer and then back into the glass.
Has only one superstition. That is he must start an finish his plays on a Tuesday. It doesn’t matter if the Tuesdays are months apart.
He once taught English in an East Side school.
Everything he does he describes as “terrific.”
Has only one superstition: that is, theatrical notables. Eugene O’Neill, for example, he believes is only an intellectualized Theodore Kremer. Claims the only thing he likes about George Jean Nathan is H. L. Mencken. A. H. Woods is his favorite producer. Because whenever he hands that impresario a flop Woods never cries, but merely says: “It’s all right, sweetheart; try again.”
He rarely eats meat. His favorite meal is one composed solely of caviar.
Likes to go prowling about the city at night and often sets out at midnight, alone.
The sight of fish fascinates him. He is a frequent visitor at the Aquarium.
He never hangs up anything. His clothes are sprawled about the house. On entering he tosses his hat anywhere. His coat is dropped on the living room floor; the vest on the bedroom floor. His trousers he carefully places at the foot of his bed. He dresses faster than a fireman.
To date he has had twelve collaborators. His favorite is John B. Hymer because Hymer understands him.
He wants to know everything before anyone else.
Never reads a book during the winter. Every summer he goes for a vacation in the Catskill Mountains, taking two valises full of books with him.
Doesn’t like young girls. Never goes out with a lady under thirty-five.
Never falls in love with an actress. His sweetheart is a nonprofessional. Her parents, however, dislike everything connected with the theater and won’t allow him in the house.
His ambition in life is to write the libretto of an opera and to have it presented at the Metropolitan Opera House.
He suffers from indigestion. His secretary carries his pills and reminds him when he has indigestion.
At Columbia he studied playwriting under Brander Matthews, who gave him a C minus. He asked that his mark be raised and Matthews asked why. Shipman then pulled out a contract for a play he had just sold. Matthews merely replied: “It’s the old story. Theory is theory and practice is practice.”
He covered the Ruth Snyder case for a tabloid newspaper.
Never cleans his shoes on the outside, but only inside. This, he claims, is healthy for the feet.
He can recite most of Ibsen’s plays from memory. While writing a play his teeth become loose; in fact, so loose that he can pluck them. To date he has plucked six. The minute the play is finished his teeth tighten. He is continually visiting dentists because of this condition.
The greatest disappointment one can get in life, he believes, is meeting somebody one had heard a lot about.
One evening at the Lambs Club Eugene O’Neill was playing poker with a group of playwrights. After losing all his money O’Neill offered to play on his ability as a dramatist. After another hour of heavy losing O’Neill got up and started for home. As he was leaving the doorman said: “Good night, Mr. Shipman.”
The only time he ever combs his hair is before going to bed.
Are You Having Any Fun?
Hey fellow with a million smackers
And nervous indigestion
Rich fellow, eats milk and crackers,
I'll ask you one question,
You silly so and so,
With all your dough...
Are you having any fun?
What you getting out of livin'?
What good is what you've got
If you're not having any fun?
Are you having any laughs?
Are you getting any lovin'?
If other people do,
So can you, have a little fun.
After the honey's in the cone,
Little bees go out and play.
Even the old grey mare down home
Has got to have hay. Hey!
You better have some fun.
You ain't gonna live forever.
Before you're old and gray, feel okay.
Have your little fun, son!
Have your little fun!
Why do you work and slave and save?
Life is full of ifs and buts.
You know the squirrels save and save,
And what have they got? Nuts!
Better have a little fun.
You ain't gonna live forever.
Before you're old and grey, still okay,
Have your little fun, son!
Have your little fun!
Are you havin' any fun?
---Sammy Fain (music) and Jack Yellen (lyrics), 1939
Gus Arnheim and His Ambassadors -- If I Can't Have You / There's Something About a Rose / Tiger Rag
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Here are the last twenty movies we've seen:
Bridesmaids (2011)_***
The World Moves On (1934)_***
Ides of March (2011)_***
Moneyball (2011)_***
Margin Call (2011)_****
Friends of Mr. Sweeney (1934)_***
The Last Gangster (1937)_***
It's a Big Country (1951)_***
Annabel Takes a Tour (1938)_***
The Affairs of Annabel (1938)_***
The Artist (2011)_***
My Week with Marilyn (2011)_***
Sadie McKee (1934)_***
Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows (2011)_**
Lightning Strikes Twice (1951)_***
China Seas (1935)_***
Up the Down Staircase (1967)_***
Ann Vickers (1933)_***
Dream Wife (1953)_***
The Wet Parade (1932)_***
Recent Posts
- Wish you were here
- Regrets? They had a few…
- Times Square Tintypes: George M. Cohan
- Top of the World
- Times Square Tintypes: Jim Tully
- Act now!
- Times Square Tintypes: Fannie Brice
- Times Square Tintypes: Earl Carroll
- Ninety-nine years Young
- Past Paper: Letter Gram Puzzles
- Times Square Tintypes: William A. Brady
- 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 … Happy New Year!
- Times Square Tintypes: Samuel Shipman
- Another OTR Christmas
- Doing a little retro(active) browsing
