1940s New York photos

Some interesting photos of NYC in the 40s. What struck me was the unity of the images. Of course the photographer has a lot to do with that, but nonetheless, everything looks like it could have come straight out of an old "Superman" episode or a modern episode of "Agent Carter." By comparison, today's US cities come across as a higgledy–piggledy mix of varying architectural periods and styles. Nothing wrong with that and it can be appealing, but 1940s New York just looks so iconic, self-referential and "of its time". I'm explaining myself poorly. I guess I'll just end by saying these photos capture a bit of what was the distinctive time and place that was 1940s New York.

http://fortune.com/2017/04/17/todd-webb-gallery-photography/

Tiki Tom said:

Some interesting photos of NYC in the 40s. What struck me was the unity of the images. Of course the photographer has a lot to do with that, but nonetheless, everything looks like it could have come straight out of an old "Superman" episode or a modern episode of "Agent Carter." By comparison, today's US cities come across as a higgledy–piggledy mix of varying architectural periods and styles. Nothing wrong with that and it can be appealing, but 1940s New York just looks so iconic, self-referential and "of its time". I'm explaining myself poorly. I guess I'll just end by saying these photos capture a bit of what was the distinctive time and place that was 1940s New York.

http://fortune.com/2017/04/17/todd-webb-gallery-photography/

Click to expand...

Several things are at work to, I think, explain your impressions. First, as you note, the photographer had a vision so he selected those shots that revealed that vision. And while there are about fifty years of architecture represented here, the evolvement from the tenements (pre-elevator buildings) to the pre-WWII skyscrapers has an evolutionary feel as they all tried, to some degree, to broadly conform to the classical ideals of Greek and Roman architecture. Hence, there is a harmonizing and common thread running through it all.

After WWII, as modern architecture took hold - mid-century, first, then the "stripped down" '60s - the transition was sharp and jarring / no longer harmonizing or incremental. After that, each decade had its own style - you can pretty much look at a building and guess what decade it was made - up to today where the glass towers and, some, retro-style buildings compete for attention.

Because there was no longer an underlying cohesion / theme / ideal - Classical Greek and Roman architecture - to the buildings after WWII, the cityscape (in NYC and, pretty much everywhere) became helter skelter (hey, you already used "higgledy-piggledy").

Another thing at work is that NYC skyscrapers of the early '40s, were mainly all built in a little over one decade from the end of WWI to the start of the Depression, so they reflect the relatively consistent style of that short period. Now, cities, like NY, have buildings from seven or so more decades, so the common look that you note is no longer there.

While I love the city today, and respect that its architecture has to evolve over time for the city to remain vibrant, I agree that the early '40s, for reason noted above, represent a one-off time where the architecture was very consistent resulting in an iconic look that will probably not be repeated as cities now are comprised of buildings from many different periods and styles.

Well explained, FF. I also love the modern city-scape of today. But 40s NYC definitely looked a bit like the magical land of Oz. It all gives me a better appreciation of the work that must go into shooting movies in NY and being able to frame them so that they look "golden era" (Blue screens and back lot sets help too, no doubt.)

Tiki Tom said:

Well explained, FF. I also love the modern city-scape of today. But 40s NYC definitely looked a bit like the magical land of Oz. It all gives me a better appreciation of the work that must go into shooting movies in NY and being able to frame them so that they look "golden era" (Blue screens and back lot sets help too, no doubt.)

Click to expand...

One of the great thing about there being so many NYC-based film noir movies of the '40s is that we have a wonderful film record of this period. There are too many to name, but one that I saw in the last year, "The Dark Corner," is both a solid film noir movie (wth Lucille Ball putting in a very not "I Love Lucy" performance and doing a great job) and an outstanding film archive of '40s NYC. Several scenes take place right around parts of the city I've lived in / live in now so it was great fun to see what those exact streets looked like back then.

I also recently saw "The Sweet Smell of Success" and - while it is shot in '57, hence, is much less uniformly '40s iconic - the amount of NYC architecture in it is incredible. And it's one heck of a movie.

Pics 10 and 11 remind me of the first two blocks of South Rampart Street in the Central Business District here, as it was when I was a kid: shirt shops, men's clothing stores, hat shops, pawn shops. Most of those are gone now, with ghostly letters on the buildings and nearly everything turned into a parking lot or garage. When I read stories set in NYC back then, I used blocks like these to picture the Manhattan streets.

"Leonard's Seamen's Slop Chest." What a lot of people forget is that the New York of the Era was, to a very great extent, a gritty working-class port town -- full of sailors, longshoremen, docks, shipyards, and an entire infrastructure built up to support them.

LizzieMaine said:

"Leonard's Seamen's Slop Chest." What a lot of people forget is that the New York of the Era was, to a very great extent, a gritty working-class port town -- full of sailors, longshoremen, docks, shipyards, and an entire infrastructure built up to support them.

Click to expand...

To further support this, many apartment buildings built in what is called Tudor City, a middle class cluster of apartments built in the '20s have few east-facing windows as the land that they face on the east that is now the UN (and south of the UN) on the East River was used for slaughterhouses. Reasonably obvious, but from what I've read neither pleasant to see or smell. It's really interesting to walk down 1st avenue today and see these tall apartment buildings with windows mainly on three sides.

In addition to all the port-city labor Lizzie describes and the slaughterhouse workers, there were working breweries, an incredible number of factories, a tremendous number of garment workers and, while technically "white collar" since they were office workers, literally armies of low-paid office workers doing the support, operation, back office, etc. work for the insurance, telecommunication and even finance firms of the day.

Over the last half century, all of that, - the port, the factories, the garment workers, the office support staffs - has been move to the outer boroughs, other states, off-shored or automated out of the city. From history books, popular novels and the movies of the day, you see a much grittier working class city than exists now. When Ray Milland is desperately trying to pawn his typewriter for more liquor money in 1945's "The Lost Weekend," he stumbles along Third Avenue looking for an open pawn dealer (there are plenty of them, but they are closed for some holiday). The avenue he stumbles along looks pretty working class or even poor in spots; today, that same stretch is much cleaner and upscaled (certainly no pawn shops) - although, not la-di-da, at least not yet.

Staying with the theme Lizzie noted: Another thing I noticed in a second viewing of the pictures is you'll see a small, not-fancy mens shop, what looks like a discount mens suit warehouse sign and an Army Navy store. Even into the '80s, when I first moved to the city, a lot of these places still existed, but have since all but disappeared (well before the internet) as, my guess, the city's shift "upscale" drove up the rents and drove away the customers for these stores.

And then there was "Radio Row," which was focused around Cortlandt Street in Lower Manhattan -- this area became, in the 1920s, the city's nexus for radio wholesalers, parts jobbers, and manufacturers. There were dozens of small radio shops around this neighborhood, as well as big retail outlets like Davega and Arrow Radio. Many of the smaller shops had big open bins out front with cut-rate tubes and parts laid out grab-bag style, and pretty much every retail outlet had a loudspeaker horn mounted in the doorway blasting out sound. It was considered an eyesore and a public nuisance by the city-beautification types, but radio people loved it. The whole area was bulldozed in the mid-1960s in preparation for the development of the World Trade Center and that was that.

Tiki Tom said:

Some interesting photos of NYC in the 40s. What struck me was the unity of the images. Of course the photographer has a lot to do with that, but nonetheless, everything looks like it could have come straight out of an old "Superman" episode or a modern episode of "Agent Carter." By comparison, today's US cities come across as a higgledy–piggledy mix of varying architectural periods and styles. Nothing wrong with that and it can be appealing, but 1940s New York just looks so iconic, self-referential and "of its time". I'm explaining myself poorly. I guess I'll just end by saying these photos capture a bit of what was the distinctive time and place that was 1940s New York.

http://fortune.com/2017/04/17/todd-webb-gallery-photography/

Click to expand...

Never been to New York. This film clip reminds me of TCM.

LizzieMaine said:

And then there was "Radio Row," which was focused around Cortlandt Street in Lower Manhattan -- this area became, in the 1920s, the city's nexus for radio wholesalers, parts jobbers, and manufacturers. There were dozens of small radio shops around this neighborhood, as well as big retail outlets like Davega and Arrow Radio. Many of the smaller shops had big open bins out front with cut-rate tubes and parts laid out grab-bag style, and pretty much every retail outlet had a loudspeaker horn mounted in the doorway blasting out sound. It was considered an eyesore and a public nuisance by the city-beautification types, but radio people loved it. The whole area was bulldozed in the mid-1960s in preparation for the development of the World Trade Center and that was that.

Click to expand...

This in no way, not one way, not one iota is a comment on the tragedy of 9/11 - period full stop.

While impressive in their sheer height of 105 stories or something close to that (I was on the top floor several times - you literally were in the clouds and you could feel the building sway) - and the complex had a late '60s architectural bluntness accentuated by an outsized scale that some loved - prior to 9/11, The World Trade Center buildings never felt a part of NYC to me / they never felt integrated into the flow and feel of the neighborhood, its commerce, its people, it history, its architecture.

The street level "plaza" felt very "Logan's Run;" whereas, the rest of that part of the city is architecturally and in its vibe very pre-WWI / between the Wars as it is in one of the oldest parts of the city. The Trade Center buildings kinda left me cold as they seemed jammed down in an area where they didn't holistically fit. I can easily see "Radio Row," as shown in your post, to be a natural fit to the surroundings which included a ton of tenements, turn-of-the-century office buildings and the first high rises in the city. And the businesses of that area, despite being a stones throw from Wall Street and the New York Stock Exchange, were very street-hawkerish, bustling, business done out front of the store, pizza places with street-service-facing windows, a bit of hustling, etc.

It was one of my favorite parts of working down there. My first job was literally on the floor of the NYSE in '82 and I'd love walking outside and in only a block or two be in some crazy street bustling mix of old-world bartering, shady street dealing, barely holding-on (but holding on) businesses and a general hubbub of normal people earning their living and going about their day - all amidst an incredible shoulder-to-shoulder crowd that all but overwhelmed.

LizzieMaine said:

And then there was "Radio Row," which was focused around Cortlandt Street in Lower Manhattan -- this area became, in the 1920s, the city's nexus for radio wholesalers, parts jobbers, and manufacturers. There were dozens of small radio shops around this neighborhood, as well as big retail outlets like Davega and Arrow Radio. Many of the smaller shops had big open bins out front with cut-rate tubes and parts laid out grab-bag style, and pretty much every retail outlet had a loudspeaker horn mounted in the doorway blasting out sound. It was considered an eyesore and a public nuisance by the city-beautification types, but radio people loved it. The whole area was bulldozed in the mid-1960s in preparation for the development of the World Trade Center and that was that.

Click to expand...

Amazing, how clean the sidewalk looks --!

My grandmother, who immigrated to NY in the 1920s, had a little needlework shop in what was left of the Little Germany neighborhood of the lower eastside. (Heyday of the neighborhood was until WWI, I think.). Surprisingly it stayed in business all through the 1940s. I went back and had a look in the 1990s and found that "Little Germany" has mostly disappeared.

Little Germany:

Tiki Tom said:

My grandmother, who immigrated to NY in the 1920s, had a little needlework shop in what was left of the Little Germany neighborhood of the lower eastside. (Heyday of the neighborhood was until WWI, I think.). Surprisingly it stayed in business all through the 1940s. I went back and had a look in the 1990s and found that "Little Germany" has mostly disappeared.

Little Germany:

Click to expand...

On the Upper East Side of Manhattan (80s east of 3rd Avenue) there was a robust German neighborhood informally called "German-town" in the pre-WWII years that remained "German" (lots of German owned stores and residents) even into the '70s, when I was a kid.

Sadly, today, only about three or four of those stores still exist, but I frequent two of them: a German bakery and a combined German butcher and candy store (I go for the candy).

Unfortunately, most of the ethic neighborhoods that sprung up in NYC as a result of the late 1800s / early 1900s immigration have either disappeared or become rump version of their former robust selves.

Williamsburg, Brooklyn -- today the overpriced nexus of the hipster world -- was, in the Era, a thriving confluence of Lithuanian, Polish, German, Italian, Hungarian, and Jewish immigration. I have about thirty hours' worth of recordings from Williamsburg's only radio station in 1936, and there is far more foreign language programming than there was English. And yet the gentrifiers say they're bringing diversity.



Corner of Graham and Metropolitan Avenues, Williamsburg, 1937.

⇧ The streetcar and electric wires make for quite the overhead netting.

I do think a hipster would die of enthusiasm if they could go to "Kings Beer and Ale" in the picture. Just think of the "authenticity" of the experience.

My girlfriend and I have gone of to Williamsburg to walk around a few times in the past several years - it is amazing to be at the center of a movement (if that's the right word) as all the cliches no longer felt exaggerated once I saw it with my own eyes.

LizzieMaine said:

Williamsburg, Brooklyn -- today the overpriced nexus of the hipster world -- was, in the Era, a thriving confluence of Lithuanian, Polish, German, Italian, Hungarian, and Jewish immigration. I have about thirty hours' worth of recordings from Williamsburg's only radio station in 1936, and there is far more foreign language programming than there was English. And yet the gentrifiers say they're bringing diversity.

Click to expand...

Thanks for jarring an old memory, Lizzie. I remember back when I was a kid (in the 1960s) in Southern California, there was a radio station that did an hour of German language programming once a week or so and my parents would often tune-in. I haven't thought of that in several decades.

The programming on this particular station -- WMBQ, 100 watts at 1500 kc on your dial -- is really quite wonderful in capturing the small-town neighborhood feeling that existed in parts of New York in the thirties. There are only two staff announcers -- a fellow named Chick Evans, and the station manager, a woman named Lillian Kiefer (who was also the first woman to run for assemblyman in New York, back in 1918), and between them they run everything. Evans hosts the morning DJ show, and plays the most eclectic collection of records you ever heard -- a few current pop tunes, mixed in with classical music, hillbilly and cowboy music. And one morning he devotes his whole show to the music of Piedmont bluesman Bumblebee Slim. Who says race records never got airplay? Miss Kiefer, for her part, hosts a kiddie talent show called "Miss Kiefer and her Kiddies," featuring neighborhood kids with names like Sammy Nudleman playing the mandolin and the autoharp, and pausing to hear a lecture on traffic safety by "Officer Rattigan of the 87th Precinct," a gentleman with the most glorious, undiluted Brooklyn accent that it has ever been my pleasure to hear. Miss Kiefer also seems to be the station's roving political reporter, introducing talks by speakers on behalf of the Landon-Knox Republican ticket, and the Young Communist League of Brooklyn.

The foreign programs are incredible stuff. There is Joseph Ginkus and his Lithuanian Hour where Lithuanian tango records are played, Bernhard Westendorf and his "Radio Rundfunk" program offering lessons in German -- one lesson revolves around singing the "Schnitzelbank" song, Sam Capiello's Italian Program, and Anthony Witkowski and his Famous Polish-American Orchestra -- which, once the ethnic show is over, becomes Anthony Witkowski and his Brooklyn Knights, playing the most off-tempo swing music you've ever heard. WMBQ for a while billed itself as "The Home Sweet Home Station," and with a signal that rarely penetrated beyond its particular neighborhood, it really lived up to the name. It's a window into a world that's gone forever.

But I gather that New York City is still a magnet for immigrants. I was there in February 2016 and it seemed --gloriously and excitingly-- that almost everyone was from somewhere else; from Poland and Greece to Nigeria and Indonesia and Taiwan. The world in a tea cup. (Perhaps I exaggerate, I also ran into a fair share of gruff but funny native New Yorkers.) Of course, these days English has become the world's default lingua franca so you don't get quite the same mish-mash of languages anymore, which I kind of regret because I love that kind of stuff.

Don't be so sure. It's isn't gone; it's just different. The reason so-called ethnic neighborhoods disappear is because they aren't being fed by fresh immigrants, which in the cases being lamented, means from Eastern and Central Europe, as well as along the Mediterranean. The children of all those people aren't immigrants; they're the Americans. Naturally, some people think that you're not an American unless your grandparents were born here. Anyway, there are still ethnic neighborhoods. They're just from other places.

My hometown, which I speak of mostly because that's what I knew, had no ethnic neighborhood, although some small towns might. But there were parts of town that rather reminded me of some of the New York photos. The businesses there had been there for about 50 years, that part of town I'm thinking of having been built around 1900 during the railroad boom. It had a slightly rundown look to it and some of the older businesses had moved "uptown," all of about five or six blocks away on the same street. One of the business was a barber shop run by my grandmother's brother-in-law. I never once thought there was anything charming or even authentic about it. It was just an old part of town.

In spite of having met or known several immigrants during my childhood, either from Italy or the Middle East (Yes, even in West Virginia), I had no concept of ethnic. Moreover, no one referred to them as "foreigners" or even immigrants. No one had a concept of diversity. But when I went away to school in the northern part of the state, I sometimes heard foreign language broadcasts from some radio station in Pittsburgh and a few places I was in in southwest Pennsylvania had foods I'd never heard of before. Changes are, though, that's all gone.

These days, however, there will be Latin American neighborhoods, which around here includes people mainly from Central America. Sure enough, there are lots of business in certain places that cater to them and even radio stations that play Latin American music.