Tony Pastor in all of his splendor. |
It
was America’s most beloved—and most heavily
romanticize—theatrical form for 50 years bringing inexpensive, wholesome
(mostly) entertainment to the working and middle classes of big cities
and burbs in the sticks alike. It employed singers, dancers, musicians, comedians, magicians, acrobats, animal
acts, rope spinners, and even celebrities
fallen on hard times with nothing to
exhibit but their presence by
the tens of thousands transforming a handful of disreputable saloon theaters and traveling troops into the might industry called Show Business. Vaudeville, as it came to be called,
became an unquenchable font of talent that provided the most luminous stars to the Broadway stage, opera houses, recordings, film from the earliest silents
to the talkies, radio, and even early television. In fact American entertainment would be impossible to imagine without it.
Yet
the man who did not quite invent it,
but did more than anyone else to shape it, get it off the ground, and popularize it is all but forgotten to
all but hard core show business history
buffs. Tony Pastor was the poor son
of an immigrant father, a child singer,
circus ringmaster, minstrel show side man, song writer, saloon keeper, and finally the impresario of the common people.
He was also sentimental,
deeply religious, a shrewd
businessman, and in the end a hold-out
battling the forces that modernized and
industrialized his creation.
Pastor
was born on May 28, 1837 in New York City
and died 71 years later on August 26, 1908 at his comfortable suburban home in Elmhurst, New York. In
between he lived and shaped just about every form of American
entertainment. His father, Antonio Pastor, was a Spanish immigrant and his mother Cornelia Buckley was a Connecticut Yankee from New Haven.
Papa was a barber and
part time musician.
The
family was hard working and poor during a period of intense turmoil in
America’s most rapidly growing metropolis. Clashes between street gangs of nativist
American born workers and the mostly Catholic
immigrants who packed the tenement
districts and who were seen as driving down wages dominated street
life. Young Tony was caught between
those worlds. On one hand he was a
devout Catholic and altar boy on the
other a Yankee. Like many of the second generation he was assimilationist, eager to put old country ways behind him and to
embrace America with a patriotic
passion.
Tony
had a natural gift for singing and
took to the stage early. The first
public performance of this future saloon
owner was said to be at a temperance
rally at the age of 9. Soon he was
employing that talent to help support his family. He was booked for several weeks at P.T. Barnum’s Museum billed as a child prodigy. He was known for memorizing hundreds,
eventually thousands, of popular songs,
folk tunes, and light classic fare and
was able to respond to requests from the audience.
Through
the 1840’s and ‘50’s he worked in almost every form of the infant entertainment
business. He did his time in the dominate form of touring stage show—black
face minstrels—with the Raymond and
Waring Menagerie, did acrobatics and
acted in skits at Welch’s National Amphitheatre in Philadelphia, an outdoor circus venue similar to the early
versions of New York’s Hippodrome. Later he went with one of the early traveling circuses where he got his
break—replacing the Ring Master who
had inconveniently dropped dead. He was
only 19 but took to the flamboyant high
hat, tight breeches, and cut-away coat, all of which became trademarks when he went into other
forms of entertainment. Ring Masters in
those days did more than just introduce acts—he sang as crews changed apparatus in the single ring, danced, and acted in the afterpiece, a theatrical skit after the
circus acts were complete, a tradition borrowed from the second act of a
minstrel show.
In 1861 Pastor
settled back in New York as an attraction in variety shows. He first
worked in a dive with no name at 444
Broadway. It was a rowdy working class saloon that
offered entertainment on a stage. It was
patronized by men only and considered quite disreputable. The preferred
beverage was whiskey and fights frequently broke out while the
performers were on stage. Pastor was the
master of ceremonies and a singer,
not noted for the finest voice, but for a commanding stage presence. In addition to singeing any and all popular
songs, Pastor wrote parody lyrics to scores of them, which were published in
pamphlets known as songsters which
were given to the audience to sing along
in the style of the English music
hall.
Pastor’s songs
were usually comic and often bawdy, as befitted the “low” character of the
joint. They often employed the racial
and ethnic stereotypes of the era. On
the other hand his songs celebrated and honored the working classes that were his audience and mocked the swells and bosses. As the Civil War raged he added plenty of patriotic songs to the mix and topical
ballads about the war. Among Pastor’s
best loved songs from this period were Down in a Coal Mine, The
Great Atlantic Cable, The Monitor and the Merrimac, and The
Irish Volunteers
During his four
year run at the 444, Pastor developed a reputation and a following. It was said that he was so good that the
audience even struggled to be quiet through his performances when they were not
lustily singing along. He ruled the stage there all during the
war. How he avoided conscription is a matter of some conjecture. But by the time it was over and the Johnnies all came marching home, Pastor had saved up enough money to open his
own joint.
Pastor partnered
in 1865 with popular minstrel show performer Sam Sharpley to take over the rundown Volks Garden at 201 Bowery
and after renovating and making improvements re-opened it under the grand sounding
name of Tony Pastor’s Opera House. Of course it was nothing of the sort, but
still a saloon music hall. But Pastor
had plans. The same year the partners
launched an annual minstrel show touring company that worked from spring to
early fall. Sharpley toured but Pastor
stayed in New York as host and master of ceremonies of the Opera house. However, he booked talent form the minstrel
troop. Eventually he bought out his partner
in both ventures.
While variety
houses like his remained disreputable—and subject to periodic outbreaks of Victorian outrage and temporary moral reform crusades—Pastor took note
that one group of immigrants enjoyed a much different entertainment venue
without the rowdiness and bawdiness of variety.
The sturdy Germans treasured
their Beer Gardens with their brass bands and classical singers where wives
felt comfortable accompanying their husbands and whole families, including children could spend a Sunday afternoon following church services. That appealed to Pastor’s religious
convictions and he also figured it was a good business model—potentially
doubling the paid customers with the addition of women unafraid to enter a
theater.
Pastor started
his transformation slowly, first banishing curse words, expelling rowdy patrons
and cutting off drunks to avoid fights, and insisting that his acts present
only clean entertainment eliminating
the bawdy songs and skits that he himself had once sung. He made a point of greeting patrons
personally at the door, shaking hands and remembering the names of many
regulars, who he pointedly advised to bring the family. He began to advertise shows “unalloyed by any
indelicate act or expression…fun without vulgarity.” He enforced a similar policy on his touring
show.
Slowly the
ladies began to come. Then patrolling
them to make sure that they were not prostitutes
trolling for johns became a
problem. When the shady ladies were effectively banned, more working class women
began to attend. He added special ladies matinees so that women could
come and not feel threatened by leering,
pawing men. But the middle class still shunned what was
still a saloon.
Pastor twice
moved his operation, each time hoping to improve his broadened appeal. First in 1874 he took over Michael
Bennett Leavitt’s former theater at 585 Broadway, away from the
rowdy Bowery and in a very respectable
neighborhood near the theater
district centered on Union
Square. Then in 1881 he assumed the lease of the former Germania Theater on 14th Street. The theater was in the famed Tammany Hall Wigwam, a location sure to
give him a modicum of protection from over-zealous
reformers. More to the point, it did
not have its own bar, although a
saloon was located conveniently next door where patrons could easily repair for
a drink.
But
the absence of alcohol sales on the premises made it acceptable to a better
class of ladies, middle class matrons
and respectable shop girls, if not
the grand
dames of high society. The
theater was also only a short walk from the city’s most important shopping
district, then known as the Ladies mile and
was an anchor for a new theater district along 14th Street known as The Rialto.
To appeal to the ladies he made sure his female stars were outfitted
at the height of fashion—and indeed were soon setting fashion—that sent them
scurrying to the shops after matinees.
Merchants were ecstatic and
began to closely follow trends established on the stage. Their symbiotic relationship with the new
kind of variety theater that Pastor was presenting also shored up its
respectability.
None
of Pastor’s female stars was greater, or was more of a fashion icon than his discovery
and protégée
Lillian Russell. Pastor first noticed in the first of a
series of satirical musical plays that he experimented with to alternate with
his variety. The show was The
Pie-Rats of Pen-yen, a parody
of Gilbert and Sullivan’s hit comic operetta The Pirates of Penznace.
The show was only moderately successful
and after a handful of others of its type, Pastor abandoned the form to
concentrate full time on variety. Helen Louise Leonard was a young classically trained singer from Clinton, Iowa. She was also tall, statuesque, raven
haired, and a stunning beauty. Pastor knew he had something unlike the
almost bawdy musical hall queens like his reining star, Maggie Cline, The Irish Queen.
He
sent young Leonard on an extended western
tour to both season her as a
performer and to allow him time for him to establish a new identity for her,
Lillian Russell, and build her up as an English stage star who he had imported at great expense. Pastor used as his template the build-up P.T. Barnum had given Jenny Lind The Swedish Nightingale back in 1850. When she premiered in his New York theater
under her new name, she was dazzling in huge, broad brimmed and plumed
hats, elegant gowns that emphasized her ample bosoms and tightly cinched wasp
waist, elbow length gloves, and
usually carrying a long walking stick or
parasol. Her repertoire was, at first, operatic
arias and classical songs, similar to that which Lind had popularized. Over time she added original popular songs long on romance without the leering
snicker of much variety fare. Men adored
her and women wanted to be her, spending good hard money in the shops for gowns
and hats that mirrored Russell’s.
The young Lillian Russell was promoted by Pastor as the "most beautiful woman in the world." |
After
a few seasons with Pastor, Russell went on to become the defining star of America’s version of La Belle
Époque, the Gay Nineties. She starred on the Broadway stage and
toured all of the nation’s finest theaters and opera houses. But grateful to the man who not only gave her
a start, but invented her public persona,
Russell would sometimes play a week or two at Pastor’s between shows and
tours, even after it had lost some of its luster to upstart competitors. Pastor inspired that kind of loyalty.
With
Russell mostly gone, Pastor followed up with new female stars in a similar
mode, most notably Faye Templeton,
known to film buffs as the star that
James Cagney as George M. Cohan writes his hit show Forty-Five
Minutes from Broadway for.
And
speaking of Cohan, his famous family act The
Four Cohans were among the many star attractions cultivated and promoted on
Pastor’s stage. Others included another family
act, The Three (later Four) Keatons featuring young Buster
and in his last year Grouch and Gummo Marx trodding the boards as part of The
Three Nightingales. Also featured by
Pastor were the Irish song and dance man Pat
Rooney and story teller George
Fuller Gordon each of whom toned down the wild Irish bog trotter and sot stereotypes
of earlier acts and promoted a sentimental
view of the Auld Sod and a more
nuanced, sympathetic comic character. German Gus Edwards was a prodigy for Pastor
much as he was for Barnum and he continued to feature him as he grew older and
created kiddie skits that were first
used as afterpieces for the variety shows and latter continued independently as
full scale Broadway shows. In these
skits Edwards introduced songs of his own composition including the standards School Days and the Light of the
Silvery Moon.
The Three Ketons, Joe, Myra, and Buster were Pastor comedy stars. |
Other
Pastor alumni included Weber and Fields, Sophie Tucker, Eva Tanguay, Blossom Seeley, Benny
Fields, May Irwin and Eddie Leonard. Ben Harney and other musicians introduced
a new musical craze—rag time—which would
come to define the early vaudeville era.
Just as
Pastor’s theater was at its height in the 1890’s he found himself rudely
challenged by an upstart impresario who
some also call the Father of Vaudeville because he invented the business model
on which it matured.
R. B. Keith had
opened the Bijou theater in Boston
in 1885 and introduced the continuous
variety show
which ran from 10:00 in the morning until 11:00 at night, every day.
Previously, shows ran at fixed intervals with several hours of downtime between
shows. That kept theaters busy and
selling tickets at all times. He also
established the first vaudeville circuit
by which he kept troops of performers constantly moving every week or two
weeks through a chain of theaters which were either owned by him or who signed
exclusive contacts with him. The rapid
growth of these circuits including new competitors like the Orpheum tended to freeze out
independent operators like Pastor making it harder and harder for him to book
top talent for his own stage. Pastor was
even more appalled in 1896 when Keith obtained the exclusive American rights to the Lumière Brothers projection apparatus
and their film output and followed
up with exclusive rights to the films of the new Biograph studios. That made motion pictures a part of a standard vaudeville
bill—a part that would in the next three decades crowd out and ultimately
replace the live shows.
Yet Pastor
resisted either establishing his own circuit or joining an established
one. He made a valiant fight for the
rights of independents and gained a new nickname,
Little Man Tony.
Pastor also
resisted the use of the name vaudeville, a term of hazy French origin first used by Sergeant’s
Great Vaudeville Company of Louisville,
Kentucky in 1871. It was the same
rowdy, bawdy kind of show the Pastor had first appeared in during the Civil
War. Modern vaudeville is usually
credited to Pastor a decade later when he separated the saloon from the theater
and instituted his clean, family friendly format that set it apart from Burlesque which was developing along
parallel lines descending from the common saloon variety shows. Pastor had used the term in some of his
earliest advertising for is 14th Street theater, but soon abandoned it charging
the term was un-American and “sissy
and Frenchified.” This criticism mounted
with the emergence of Keith’s circuit, which promoted itself as vaudeville. To Pastor what he put on was always just
plain old Variety.
Pastor continued
producing—and personally hosting—his shows right up to the end of his life
despite the fact that other New York theaters were able to offer top talent and
bigger named stars. But after he died in
1908 his heirs and partners quietly closed the theater in which so much show business history was
made.
No comments:
Post a Comment