TUDOR CITY vs. the SUBWAY, Part 4

Today, a fourth installment of ads stating the advantages of living in Tudor City and walking to work as opposed to living elsewhere and riding the subway to work. These ads ran in 1928 and 1929, but they ceased being an issue after that. 

    

Long ago, strap-hanging, as practiced in the best circles, was a gentle affair. Grasping his strap lightly in the left hand, the exponent gracefully swayed with the movements of the car, immersed in dreamy meditation or negligently reading a paper. Today ‒ what a difference. The era of strenuous strap-hanging is here. Now he fights his way to a favorable position and, holding on like grim death, is buffeted, pushed and shoved, swung off his feet, pummeled and trodden on. Emerging to light and air, limp, hot and exhausted, more fit for a hospital than an office. . .

After all, why should you? Very few hours are left for rest and recreation after the day's work is done. Why spend them jammed in a train?

You don't have to ‒ now. There is Tudor City, high, quiet and airy on the East River front, and within walking distance of wherever you want to go. . .

"Under whacky matches this afternoon, the Wall Street aggregation rode roughshod over the 42nd Street contingent, a pretty example of straight line-plunging as the old Grand Central Station has ever witnessed. Time and again the mighty Midtown Machine was thrown back before it could reach the doors as the Brokers proved their mettle before a capacity crowd of 80,000."

But even a sports writer wouldn't find the subway picturesque more than once; and the man is yet unborn who finds it comfortable. If you are one of the unsung gladiators who fight this battle twice a day, you'll thank us for this advice: Live in Tudor City. Save your time and strength for things that count. . . .  

If I miss you, I'll be late to work. Or home. Back and forth, always dependent on factors beyond your control. Traffic, motormen, schedules, connections, timetables. Why not live where you can walk wherever you want to go?. . .     

The largest gangplank in the world goes up to clicking turnstiles. All the disadvantages of a world tour and none of the advantages. What if you can ride twenty miles underground for a nickel? It isn't worth it.

Do you do this twice a day? And if so, why? You don't have to. Live in Tudor City, and walk wherever you want to go. . .

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Editor's note: I will be away next week, but will return August 9th.

Artifact: WOODSTOCK TOWER Floor Plans

Artifact of the day is this book of floor plans for Unit No. 7, Woodstock Tower. Oddly enough, there are not any other words of explanation to be found on the pages that follow, just floor plans. 

 

First up is the second floor, which is comprised of eighteen living rooms [now known as studios]. Of these, four units were billed as the one-room apartments of the future ‒ the corner units ‒ with 31-foot long living rooms lined with five windows.     

There was certainly no doubt about it, the apartment of the future (left) was nearly twice as big as the regular studio apartment (right).

From there, we move to the top of the building for the apartments on the 31st and 32nd floors. There are only two apartments available on these floors, a two-bedroom and a one-bedroom.

The two-bedroom in close-up. They even throw in a dining nook.

Its next-door neighbor, the one-bedroom unit. It comes complete with a very long closet.

The back page is blank, save for the Fred F. French monogram. 

Even More Instagrams

Once again, a tip of the hat to our always inventive Instagrammers, who are responsible for this week's content.

by jimnyc26  

by my_life_in_fijifilm   

          

by lolopariiis11   

          

by samhorine   

 by kikitata_pix 

Old Pictures Again

To celebrate our nation's 250th birthday, here are some long ago pictures of Tudor City and its environs.

First up is this moody portrait of the East River, which contrasts the scraggly, mostly industrial confines of Queens with Manhattan's more tony Crystal Office building and the Tudor City complex.

This picture was made of the corner of 40th St and 1st Ave before everything was demolished in preparation for the construction of No. 5, Windsor Tower. The sign on the right, regrettably cut off, says much the same.

Northeastern view from the 42nd St station platform of the 3rd Ave El; the Daily News building is at top, with vertical stripes along its window lines.

In this photo from 1929, ghostlike images of The Woodstock, No. 25 and No. 45 hover over the otherwise humdrum scene at 1st Ave and 39th St. The picture was taken by Percy Loomis Sperr, who recorded what was being torn down (and what replaced it) for the New York Public Library.

Lastly, there's this impressive aerial view of the complex ‒ and the nearby Daily News building ‒ in the 1930s.

BRAND AWARENESS

Today, a study of Fred F. French's monogram, as seen on tableware from his restaurants. And what better way to do it than from the collection of David Reiff, a longtime friend of this blog. Thank you, David!

We begin with an item rarely seen, a juglike vessel with a sturdy handle, perhaps for ice water service.  

French's monogram appears just above the fixture's lip.

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A tray used in one of the colony's restaurants. 

A clear impression of the monogram.

And on the reverse, the manufacturer takes credit. 

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Above, a coffee pot, and below, its version of the monogram.

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Finally, a version of the French monogram painted on china.    

A beautiful rendition of the monogram.

 

On the reverse, it's Lamberton Scammell china "made for Fred F. French Companies, Tudor City." 

AD CAMPAIGN, 1939

A look back at a series of ads that ran in 1939. In contrast to earlier campaigns, this one had but three ads. Such were the Depression years ‒ trying to act like things were normal, while they were anything but. In any event, these particular ads employed talking heads speaking aloud in bubbles.

November 9, 1939

November 12, 1939

November 19, 1939

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In other news, the Tudor City Association is hosting Tudor City Fest this Wednesday, June 24th, in the North Park. Delicious snacks, refreshments and live jazz, sounds good to us. For more details, see here.  

MISCELLANY Deluxe

 Some odds and ends. . .

First is this latest addition to No. 5, an example of heraldry that replaced the original terra cotta figure which lasted nearly 100 years. 

The East River is home to a rainbow, in a photo taken from No. 25 by Sally Hill. Thanks, Sally!

This colony artwork was published in 1939, the first year of the New York World's Fair, and reflected city optimism. Other images were used to illustrate a brochure and menu covers.  

An early example of fake Tudor City, The Tudor Shoppe had a name that somehow convinced people it was affiliated with the community. It wasn't, and it didn't last, but at least it got mentioned in a New Yorker story.

A rarely seen photograph of cartoonist Will Eisner in his Tudor City office, a one bedroom apartment in No. 5. Eisner created his masterpiece, The Spirit, here. However, his fame came years later, for The Spirit never ran in New York. It was not until 1965, with the publication of The Great Comic Book Heros, that this forgotten strip became legendary. More on Eisner here.