Tag Archives: 1900s

Eugene O’Neill: the sailor, the sickness, the stage

Posted on November 27, 2012 by | Leave a comment

In December 1912, a young man experiencing the onset of tuberculosis committed himself to Gaylord Sanatorium in Connecticut. The third son of a well known Irish-American actor, the young man had up to that point led a somewhat dissolute life. Brought up in boarding schools, he was suspended from Princeton University after his first year . By the time he checked into Gaylord he’d been a miner in Honduras, married (and abandoned) his first wife, spent several years sailing the Atlantic , and survived at least one suicide attempt. A change came when at the sanatorium he began writing plays. He was 24 years old. His name was Eugene O’Neill.

Eugene Gladstone O’Neill,  son of actor James O’Neill, was born on October 16, 1888 at the Barrett House Hotel located in what was then known as Longacre Square.

Unknown. [Broadway north from 43rd Street.] 1896. Museum of the City of New York. X2010.11.943
The Barrett House Hotel is the distant building on the left side. It later became the Hotel Cadillac.

James O’Neill was a dramatic actor known best for his role as Edmond Dantes in a stage adaptation of The Count of Monte Cristo. His declamatory style was in step with the kind of theater popular at the time: full of bold gestures, spectacle, and clear lines of morality.

In May of 1913, after receiving a clean bill of health, the young Eugene took up play writing in earnest.  He attended George Pierce Baker’s play writing class at Harvard University.  Sailing up to Cape Cod in 1916, he spent his first summer in the company of the Provincetown Players, a newly formed group of theatrical artists committed to working against the grandiose melodrama that dominated the American stage.  It was at the Players’ Wharf Theatre that O’Neill performed in his own Bound East for Cardiff.  (Shown on the far left in the image below).

Unknown. [From left to right: Eugene O'Neill, Fred Burt, David Carb, and George Cram Cook in "Bound East for Cardiff" in Provincetown Wharf Theatre.] 1916. Museum of the City of New York. 54.380.39

Bound East for Cardiff was the first in what would become the Glencairn Plays, so named for the fictional ship on which the one-act plays were set.  The S. S. Glencairn, its characters, and its journeys were inspired by O’Neill’s time aboard the British steamship S. S. Ikala.  These four plays include Moon of the Carribees, The Long Voyage Home, and In the Zone.  They focus on a group of sailors and what they carry: secrets, a longing for a different life, and sometimes a bottle of rum.

Though written second, In the Zone is considered the last play in the series in terms of the characters’ chronology. The play debuted on Broadway at the Comedy Theatre as part of an evening of one-acts.

Theater program for “In the Zone”. 1917. Museum of the City of New York. 74.72.2

White Studio (New York, N.Y.). [Left to right: Eugene Lincoln, Robert Strange, Frederick Roland, Jay Strong, Arthur Hohl, and Rienzi De Cordova in The Washington Square Players production of "In The Zone".] 1917. Museum of the City of New York. 47.59.18

The play was successful enough to allow for a 34 week tour giving O’Neill his first steady income as a playwright.  It wasn’t until 1924 that the Provincetown Playhouse put up the first full-scale production of the complete cycle in New York City. By that time O’Neill was an established playwright with a Pulitzer Prize under his belt.

Unknown. [Scene from "Moon of the Caribbees" at Provincetown Playhouse, NYC.] 1924. Museum of the City of New York. 75.130.12

In 1920 O’Neill’s Beyond the Horizon earned him his first in what would turn out to be four Pulizters for Drama.  His first full-length work, the play is set in a rural farm community not unlike the one dreamed of by the sailors aboard S.S. Glencairn.  The opening scene is a road.  Below is a sketch from a draft page of Beyond the Horizon and the realized scenery at the play’s debut at the Morosco Theatre.

Eugene O’Neill. First page of draft of “Beyond the Horizon”. 1918. Museum of the City of New York. 30.145.3A

White Studio (New York, N.Y.). [Setting for Act I, scene 1 of "Beyond the Horizon".] 1920. Museum of the City of New York. 34.157.24

The main character, Robert Mayo, is described in the opening stage directions as having “a touch of the poet” about him. He is a dreamer and longs to travel outside what he has known. (Robert was portrayed by Richard Bennett, below, seated at far right).

White Studio (New York, N.Y.). [Mary Jeffrey, Sidney Macy, Erville Alderson, Robert Kelly, and Richard Bennett.] 1920. Museum of the City of New York. 34.157.25

Robert’s older brother Andrew is content to work the land, but through the affections of a young woman, the brothers’ fates are reversed. Robert stays on the family farm while Andrew takes to the sea. Neither fares well. Robert ends up contracting tuberculosis. He dies in the final scene as the sun rises up from a disappearing road.

Eugene O’Neill’s own end came with a long illness, a neuromuscular disorder that rendered him unable to hold a pen. He died 59 years ago this week at the Sheraton Hotel in Boston, Massachusetts. He was 65 years old.

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WAY Back to School

Posted on September 4, 2012 by | 2 Comments

It’s that time of the year again.   As Labor Day rolls around, students of all ages and in all phases of their education start anticipating – and in some cases dreading – the first day of school.    In honor of “Back to School” sales, new notebooks and pencils, and  fresh haircuts around the world, I decided to share some objects from our “Schools” ephemera collection.

Public and private school systems have co-existed in New York City for centuries, and the Museum of the City of New York holds material culture objects from both.

A Good Girl, ca. 1875 – ca. 1890, in the Ephemera Collection. Museum of the City of New York. 46.302.7

A Good Boy, 1888, in the Ephemera Collection. Museum of the City of New York. 26.103A

Much of the material in the “Schools” collection consists of report cards, certificates of merit, and the type of material children happily bring home to their parents and the parent happily keeps for ages.  The awards at the right simply state that the student was “Good,” while some of the others get into specifics, such as stating the pupil has been “regular, punctual, and obedient” or has “correct deportment and diligent attention to his studies,” others were awareded for general “faithfulness and proficiency.”

Report Card of Alexander Hatos, 1913, in the Ephemera Collection. Museum of the City of New York. 96.32.5.

Report Card of Alexander Hatos, 1913, in the Ephemera Collection. Museum of the City of New York. 96.32.5.

While the collection lacks any sort of “Parent-Teacher letters” regarding students’ poor behavior, many of the report cards don’t tell quite the same story of good performance, such as that of Alexander Hatos, to the left.

Graduating Exercises of the De Witt Clinton High School, 1903. In the Ephemera Collection. Museum of the City of New York. 39.196.13

Other materials in the collection relate to specific events, such as the invitation to the Graduating Exercises of De Witt Clinton High School in 1903.  As mentioned in the invitation, the graduation ceremony was held at another school, as this was before the school moved to its new location on Tenth Avenue in 1906.

Eleventh Reunion of the the Ninth Class Association of Old Public School No. 14, 1874, In the Ephemera Collection. Museum of the City of New York. F2012.18.238.

The collection also includes invitations to alumni events and dinners, such as that for the Ninth Class Association for Old Public School No. 14, to the left.

As I looked through the Private School materials, I came across an object I had not encountered with the Public School materials:  a receipt for education expenses.  This 1859 receipt from the Grammar School of Columbia College is for a charge of $10 for a 5-week course in Classics – the equivalent of $275 today.

Grammar School of Columbia College, 1857, in the Ephemera Collection. Museum of the City of New York. 33.134.6.

Admission card to Mechanics' Institute School, 1846, in the Ephemera Collection. Museum of the City of New York. F2012.18.239

Admission card to Mechanics’ Institute School, 1846, in the Ephemera Collection. Museum of the City of New York. F2012.18.239

In contrast, the collection holds an admission card to a seminar at the Tabernacle offered by the Mechanics’ Institute, the oldest privately owned endowed technical school in the country, offering free evening courses in trade-related vocations since 1820.

I also found materials for schools that provided instruction in more specialized pursuits, such as “Miss McCabe’s Academy of Dancing,” “The Dagmar Perkins Institute of Vocal Expression,” and “Disbrow’s W. H. Riding School.”   There are also various “Schools for Boys,” and “Academies for Young Ladies.”

No matter what the fall holds for you students (and teachers) out there, I hope it brings some consolation that New Yorkers for centuries before – and we hope for centuries to come – have faced the first day of school.  You might even be able to find an image of your school on the Collections Portal.

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Peter Pan: over 100 years of the boy who wouldn’t grow up

Posted on August 21, 2012 by | 1 Comment

Wendy Darling:
Boy, why are you crying?

Boy:
What’s your name?

Wendy:
Wendy Moira Angela Darling. What is your name?

Boy:
Peter Pan.

Wendy:
Is that all?

Peter Pan:
Yes.

-Act I, Peter Pan; or, the boy who wouldn’t grow up by J. M. Barrie.

Otto Sarony Co. [Maude Adams as Peter Pan], 1905. Museum of the City of New York. 32.290.9.

This is how we are introduced to Peter Pan, in the Darling children’s bedroom, crying with frustration over his separated shadow.  The boy who wouldn’t grow up turns 108 this year and with his latest incarnation, Peter and the Starcatcher, showing at the Brooks Atkinson Theatre on Broadway, he still can still draw our attention.

 Peter Pan made his Broadway debut on November 6, 1905, just under a year after appearing for the first time on the London stage.  Written by J. M. Barrie, Peter Pan; or, the boy who wouldn’t grow up was produced in London by Charles Frohman and remounted at his Empire Theatre on Broadway and 40th Street. The production starred Maude Adams as the  eponymous boy.

Theater program for “Peter Pan” at the Empire Theatre, November 1905. Museum of the City of New York. X2012.42.2.

The Empire Theatre revived the play three times in the early part of the 20th century, all starring Ms. Adams who by the 1915 production was 43 years old.

Unknown. [Eva Le Gallienne as Peter Pan]. 1928. Museum of the City of New York. 37248.9

Barrie’s boy got two revivals in the 1920s, the second of which was directed by and starred Eva Le Gallienne.  Though only 29, Ms. Le Gallienne was already a seasoned Broadway director.  Her production was seen as a  break away from Frohman’s productions. However, the New York Times review noted that the play “had lost nothing essential of its magic”.  The reviewer described Ms. Gallienne’s Peter as a “gallant, buoyant  clean-cut figure”, but also noticed that she “wears the limit of bare legs”.  Though her pose at left is decidedly less boyish than her predecessor, the choice of city rooftop is perhaps the most striking contrast to Ms. Adams’s idyllic woodland backdrop.

Lucas-Monroe. [Boris Karloff as Captain Hook], 1950. Museum of the City of New York. 80.104.1.2163.

The final Broadway production of Peter Pan the play was mounted in 1950 at the Imperial Theatre.  Continuing the tradition of a grown woman playing Peter, Jean Arthur took up the title role, and none other than the original Frankenstein, Boris Karloff, played Captain Hook.  In the premiere London production, the actor who played Captain Hook also portrayed Mr. Darling, the children’s father.  Peter’s archenemy is a father figure in disguise, an image as psychologically subtle as the make-up on Mr. Karloff’s face.

Peter Lawrence, a producer on Mr. Karloff’s production, arranged a national tour in the fall of 1951.  This time Peter was played by the improbable Veronica Lake.  The Digital Team at the Museum uncovered the images below in the archives of the Lucas-Pritchard / Lucas-Monroe Studios.

Lucas-Monroe. [Veronica Lake as Peter Pan], 1951. Museum of the City of New York. 80.104.1.2115.

Lucas-Monroe. [Veronica Lake as Peter Pan and Lawrence Tibbett as Captain Hook], 1951. Museum of the City of New York. 80.104.1.2119.

Though Peter Lawrence’s production was the last time the play was produced on Broadway, Barrie’s work was turned into a popular musical that opened just four years later. With a score by Mark Charlap and music by Carolyn Leigh, the production was directed by Jerome Robbins and starred the very popular Mary Martin.  Ms. Martin’s boy became the definitive Peter Pan. (She donated her Pan costume to the Museum in 1968 including the piece for Peter’s shadow.)

Sheet music for “Captain Hook’s Waltz” from “Peter Pan”, 1954. Museum of the City of New York. 70.22.123D.

Though the musical’s original run was only 152 performances, Ms. Martin starred in three live televised productions that gave the show a wider audience. The musical was revived five times, the last opening in 1999.  Now on Broadway, Peter Pan has been re-made for the 21st century in Peter and the Starcatcher, a precursor to the boy’s adventures with the Darlings. The play garnered an impressive nine Tony nominations this year, winning awards for its feature actor and sweeping the design categories.  The boy who wouldn’t grow up still won’t, and we can’t stop clapping our hands.

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How Harlem River Speedway Became Harlem River Drive

Posted on February 28, 2012 by | 10 Comments

Before it was called the Harlem River Drive, the parkway running north and south along the west bank of the Harlem River was called the Harlem River Speedway. Construction began in 1894, and the speedway opened in July of 1898.

Jay Hambridge. Summer on the Speedway. Museum of the City of New York. 34.100.33

It stretched from 155th Street in Washington Heights to Dyckman Street in Inwood. At first, use of the speedway was restricted to equestrians and carriage drivers. This pleased the wealthy, who worried that sharing the road with other vehicles would ruin their good time. In advance of the speedway’s opening, a New York Times headline from May 15, 1898 announced: “No Danger that Bicyclists Will Mar the Horsemen’s Sport on the Speedway. THEY ARE EXCLUDED BY LAW.”

Robert L. Bracklow. Harlem River Speedway. Museum of the City of New York. 93.91.249

The speedway became a tourist destination where people could watch horse and boat races, visit Highbridge and Fort George Amusement Parks, and enjoy the scenery along the Harlem River.

Robert L. Bracklow. Washington Bridge and Speedway. Museum of the City of New York. 93.91.444

Robert L. Bracklow. Boat Races on Harlem River under Washington Bridge. Museum of the City of New York. 93.91.115

Some New Yorkers were unhappy that tax dollars were used to build an exclusionary road. As Charles C. Sargent, Jr., noted in his article “A Horseman’s Paradise” in the November 1898 issue of Munsey’s Magazine, “For the men – a few hundred at most – who own fast horses and want to ‘try them out,’ the sapient rulers of New York have spent in making the Speedway money that would have built thirty school houses, and would have provided twice over for the twenty five thousand children turned away last September from the overcrowded primary schools of the metropolis.”

It was not until 1919 that the Harlem River Speedway was opened to motorists. Three years later, it was paved.

New York Edison Company. View of the Harlem River Speedway and Harlem River from beneath Highbridge. Museum of the City of New York. X2010.11.2150

In 1940 Robert Moses envisioned a highway that would connect all of Manhattan’s driveways. The Harlem River Drive would incorporate sections of the old Harlem River Speedway, linking the Henry Hudson Parkway, the George Washington Bridge, and the East River Drive.  In addition, traffic from the Triborough Bridge and bridges connected to the Major Deegan Expressway would flow into the Harlem River Drive. This ambitious project was completed in 1964 at a cost of $38 million.

George Roos. Harlem River Drive and the Macombs Dam Bridge. Museum of the City of New York. X2010.11.8558

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The Literary World through the Eyes of a Woman at the turn of the 19th Century

Posted on November 15, 2011 by | Leave a comment

Miss Ella M. Boult, writer and editor, served as assistant editor and secretary to Edmund Clarence Stedman from 1899 until his death in 1908.  Stedman was a journalist on the staffs of the Tribune and the World, as well as a poet, critic, and editor of literary anthologies.    Through her capacity as Stedman’s “right hand man” – as she is referred to by Edward Everett Hale, author, historian and clergyman, in a letter from September 9, 1899 – she became a frequent correspondent with many of the literati of the early 20th century.

Letter to Ella Boult from Edward E. Hale, 1899, in the Ella Boult Papers. Museum of the City of New York. 50.211.12..

Stedman made his home in the Lawrence Park neighborhood of Bronxville in the 1890s, and many other writers and artists soon joined him, establishing the Lawrence Park Artists’ Colony.   Much of the correspondence in the collection is sent between New York City and Lawrence Park.

Letter to Ella Boult from Tudor Jenks, 1903, in the Ella M. Bout Papers. Museum of the City of New York. 50.211.75A.

Miss Boult  migrated between several part-time residences during her life, and Stedman’s home in the Lawrence Park Colony was among those;  many of the individuals she corresponded with either had homes or stayed as guests in the colony.  Several letters in the collection include notes such the one to the left from the author and poet Tudor Jenks, stating “I wish you were back in the Park again.”

Jenks sent the letter above to Miss Boult upon publication of her epic poem The romance of Cinderella; being the true history of Eleanor de Bohun, and her lover, Hallam Beaufort, duke of Somerset: together with divers happenings concerning the mysterious black knight, and other illustrious persons: also setting forth the unnatural and inhuman conduct of the Lady Eleanor’s stepmother, and her two stepsisters, Mistress Rotraut and Mistress Dowsabel.   The book was illustrated by Beatrice Stevens, Miss Boult’s close friend, living companion, and artistic collaborator.

Upon originally learning of Miss Ella Boult and this collection of papers, I immediately (and mistakenly) called to mind an image of an early Peggy Olson from Mad Men; I thought the main difference was simply half a century and a typewriter.  However, not only did Miss Boult correspond with several literary figures in her capacity as Stedman’s secretary,  she formed personal relationships with the likes of Ridgley Torrence, who was instrumental in the advancement of African American theater; John Dos Passos, who is best known for his work the U.S. A Trilogy; and Reginald Birch, illustrator of Little Lord Fauntleroy.   Throughout the collection, these individuals and others consult Miss Boult on editorial and artistic questions regarding their own work, provide congratulations on her writing achievements, and also correspond about personal matters.  An illustrated card from Birch is pictured below.

Illustrated Card from from Reginald Birch, undated, in the Ella M. Bout Papers. Museum of the City of New York. 50.211.76.

This collection provides a unique glimpse not only into the life of a working woman of the early 20th century, but also into the New York literary world.  Despite the gender assumptions of the era, Miss Boult was clearly accepted by a predominantly male literary scene as one of their own.

Special thanks to one of our many summer interns, Marika Plater; without her detailed research into Miss Ella Boult and this collection of papers, this post wouldn’t be possible.

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Belasco’s Ghost

Posted on November 8, 2011 by | 6 Comments

New York is haunted by nature of its constant transformation.  Neighborhoods change, leaving only small or hidden remnants of what they were; once thriving communities are slowly eclipsed by others.  But, New York may be haunted in more traditional ways as well.

Byron Company. Portrait, David Belasco, 1902. Museum of the City of New York. 93.1.1.8606.

During his long career in theater, David Belasco produced, wrote, and directed over 100 plays, including the original 1900 adaptation of Madame Butterfly, starring Mary Barker as Suzuki and Frank Worthing as Lieutenant Pinkerton.  He was one of the most powerful figures on Broadway, spending nearly every waking hour either in his theater, the Belasco (formerly the Stuyvesant Theatre), or in his study and apartment directly above.  But as rumor has it, even after his 1931 death, Belasco thought he had more to contribute to Broadway.

Byron Company. Stuyvesant (later renamed Belasco Theatre), ca. 1909. Museum of the City of New York. 41.420.395.

Immediately following his death, actors and staff reported sights and sounds they could not explain.  Hardly a shy ghost, he is said to appear almost solid and even speak to actors.  Although he’s commonly spotted as a lone figure, dressed in priestly garb watching rehearsals from the balcony, he is also said to offer praise to the actors, shaking their hands and even pinching the bottoms of several young actresses.   A perfectionist in life, Belasco’s ghost isn’t afraid to show his disapproval.  Over the years, actors claim to have heard moans in the theater’s wings and had their dressing rooms upturned after a particularly bad performance.

Of course, he manifests himself in more traditional ghostly ways as well: unexplained footsteps, doors mysteriously opening in unison, and a supposedly non-functioning elevator, which makes trips to Belasco’s apartment.

Byron Company. The David Belasco All Star Company in Green Room, Stuyvesant Theatre (later renamed the Belasco Theatre, New York, 1909. Museum of the City of New York, 93.1.1.15660.

A social man in life, Belasco’s ghost is rumored to have incorporeal guests.  Shortly after his death there were reports of raucous parties in his apartment, but he seems to keep quieter company these days.  A lover of women in life, Belasco continues to carry on affairs in the afterlife.  Several sightings of the “Blue Lady,” the ghost of a showgirl who died after falling down an elevator shaft, have been reported in the theater.

One television and film actress who prefers to remain unnamed told Playbill that she heard her locked dressing room door open while she was taking a shower.   Upon investigating, she found the door still locked, but the bathroom steeped in a blue glow.   The Blue Lady may not be the lone female ghost Belasco is entertaining; the disconnected elevator is rumored to carry phantom visitors directly to his private apartment.

Visitors to the Belasco Theatre need not be anxious though.  One rumor says that Belasco’s spirit stopped appearing after Oh! Calcutta!  was performed on the stage; perhaps he was taken aback by the full-frontal nudity in the production.  If he is still roaming the halls of his theater, however, at least he seems to be a friendly ghost.

Anthony F. Dumas. Belasco's Theatre, 1934. Museum of the City of New York. 75.200.66.Byron Company. Stuyvesant (later renamed Belasco Theatre), ca. 1909. Museum of the City of New York. 41.420.393.

- Anne DiFabio

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The Age of Innocence?

Posted on September 20, 2011 by | 5 Comments

Before I started cataloging postcards, I thought I had a fairly good idea of what was in store for me: numerous souvenir type views of the greatest hits of everything New York City. After cataloging nearly a thousand postcards, this does make up a vast majority of our collection, but what I definitely did not expect was being fascinated by melodramatic, turn-of-the-century  images of love and romance. In these postcards, the longing, confusion, and excitement of summer romances and relationship dramas are brilliantly encapsulated. 

Life Publishing Co. | Detroit Publishing Co. When the Hunting Season Opens. Charles Dana Gibson. 1900. X2011.34.583.

Life Publishing Co. | Detroit Publishing Co. The Dog: Here he has been hanging around us for a month, and we leave to-night. Charles Dana Gibson. 1893. X2011.34.578.

Summer love is not a new trend–vacations, beaches, warm weather sports, and girls in bathing suits have always held appeal. Many of these postcards are images originally drawn by Charles Dana Gibson, an illustrator for Life Magazine, who is credited for the creation of the “Gibson Girl” – the tall, gorgeous, corset-clad, bouffant-haired women who epitomized the ideal of beauty in the early parts of the 20th century. These images show summer love at its best, and the heartbreak that comes when Labor Day arrives.

Life Publishing Co. | Detroit Publishing Co. Here it is Christmas and they began saying good-bye in August. Charles Dana Gibson. 1901. X2011.34.581.

As a contrast to the summer loves of Gibson Girls are the slightly darker, both literally and figuratively, postcards by William Balfour Ker, who was also an illustrator for Life Magazine. From hesitation to making the first move, to what appears to be the beginning of an affair, these scenes make it clear that the beginning of the 20th century was just as scandalous as today.

Life Publishing Co. | Detroit Publishing Co. That Horrible Moment - when, having had the nerve to turn down the light, you find that you haven't the nerve to make the next move. William Balfour Ker. 1906. X2011.34.594.

Life Publishing Co. | Detroit Publishing Co. Another Monopoly. William Balfour Ker. 1899. X2011.34.569.

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23 Skidoo

Posted on September 6, 2011 by | 5 Comments

Today crowds gather around the Flatiron Building to admire its architecture and place in New York history, but back in the early part of the 20th century, men gathered there for a vastly different reason.  As many New Yorkers know, the Flatiron sits at the intersection of Broadway and Fifth Avenue, directly across from Madison Park; the layout of the streets and the park, combined with the building’s placement, can create gusts of wind strong enough to lift women’s skirts.

I am seeing great things, ca. 1910. Museum of the City of New York. X2011.34.106.

Back in an era when showing any part of one’s legs was risqué, men would gather on 23rd Street hoping to catch a glimpse of a woman’s ankle or maybe even a little more.  A contemporary viewer may not conclude that the man in the postcard to the left is admiring the woman’s ankle; I initially thought he was looking at her posterior, but a fellow cataloger clued me in.

While it isn’t used heavily today, some say the phrase “23 skidoo” came from this phenomenon.  Popular in the early part of the 20th century, getting the “23 skidoo” refers to either leaving an area quickly or being forced to leave.  Apparently, the effect of the wind at this intersection was well known and crowds of men would gather in hopes of seeing some skin.  As Andrew S. Dolkart in his online article Birth of the Skyscraper: Romantic Symbols describes, so many men loitered in this area that police would eventually come to 23rd Street to usher the crowd away:

In the early twentieth century, men would hang out on the corner here on Twenty-third Street and watch the wind blowing women’s dresses up so that they could catch a little bit of ankle. This entered into popular culture and there are hundreds of postcards and illustrations of women with their dresses blowing up in front of the Flatiron Building.

Souvenir Post Card Company. Greetings from 23rd St. New York, The Haunt of Pretty Girls, ca. 1907. Museum of the City of New York. X2011.34.109.

Some of the hundreds of postcards and illustrations Dolkart refers to are held within the Museum’s collection.  The coy women in the postcard to the right also allude to the Flatiron’s effect and the crowds that gathered there.   Though the postcard suggests they welcome the attention,  I wonder how many women walking on 23rd Street truly wanted to send their well wishes.

-Anne DiFabio

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