I’ve been re-reading the great James Thurber’s The Years with Ross, an account of the time he spent working for the New Yorker magazine in the 1920s, 30s and 40s under its founder and chief editor, Harold Ross.
It’s a joyously detailed and entertaining account of the New Yorker in its heyday, of the many gifted people who wrote for it, and what it was like to work for an eccentric, demanding and indefatigable but lovable editor who was ‘married to the magazine’ as Harold Ross described himself. One gets a vivid impression of life in New York in the days when writers would often end up exchanging wisecracks over drinks at Costello’s saloon or the Algonquin Hotel. I’d love to have experienced that milieu.
I was struck by this passage on page 100 of the old Penguin paperback:
‘”I’m surrounded by piano players’, Ross once said to me. ‘Why we haven’t got a piano in this joint I’ll never know.’ He meant not only *Cooke, who wrote a book on piano playing, but **Peter Arno, a real professional; ***Shawn, who once played a piano in a place in Montmartre; ****John McNulty, who had been a pianist in a silent movie theater; and *****Andy White, a parlour performer upon the keys.’
Five talented pianists working in the New Yorker office at the same time – how delightful! Could one still hope to find the New Yorker office full of good pianists today?
* Charles Cooke, humorous writer and author of Playing the Piano for Pleasure (written in the 1940s)
**Peter Arno, one of the New Yorker‘s most famous cartoonists
***William Shawn, later editor of the New Yorker. He almost became a composer
****John McNulty, influential literary journalist and longtime friend of Thurber’s
*****Andy White, real name Elwyn Brooks White, author of the classic children’s book Charlotte’s Web. EB White attended Cornell University, where any student with the surname White was nicknamed ‘Andy’ in honour of the university’s first president, Andrew Dickson White. EB White was known to friends as ‘Andy’ for the rest of his life.
“William Shawn, later editor of the New Yorker. He almost became a composer”. William’s son Allen absorbed his father’s interest and did become a composer, still teaching at Bennington College.
Thanks, Pamela, I didn’t know that.
This is all new to me but I am really intrigued by this. I have always felt that the 1920s were the point at which the 20th century really began. There was so much happening in music in the 1920s even if you just skinny things down to piano playing.
It’s sad to think of how much amateur music-making at all levels of society has been snuffed out by recordings. This is I think what Britten meant (later admitting he rather overstated the case) when he said “the loudspeaker is the enemy of music”.
Yes, I agree about recordings and their effect on amateur music-making.
Have you come across Britten’s even more controversial remark that ‘the rot started with Beethoven’?!
I could be wrong but I think this was was in reference to artists seeing themselves as free spirits rather than serving society, which Britten felt they should. Surely though the best way for artists to be useful is to be free and give their visions to the world.