Ziegfeld Quotes

She smiled as sweetly as a show poster for the glorified, all-American Ziegfeld girl just before dumping her second cigarette into Wally’s fresh cup of coffee.

He played with relish, sleeves rolled up, smiling at his work, tinkling from the low ranges to the high with the tricky syncopation of a tap dancer going up a Ziegfeld staircase.

Mr. DuBois, you are a rehearsal accompanist. I do not pay you for your musical interpretation.' The impresario marched down the aisle and stood in the middle like the commander of a mutinying ship. 'No, Mr. Ziegfeld. I'm not. I'm a songwriter. My songs are a damn sight better than this garbage.' One of the midwestern chorus girls gasped. 'Forgive my language,' Henry added.

Besides having baseball and success in common they also had Claire Merritt Hodgson, a Georgia native and a Ziegfeld Follies girl who was Ruth’s second wife. In her autobiography, The Babe and I, Mrs. Ruth said she had known Cobb “very well” as a teenager back in Athens, before he married Charlie, and for what it may be worth, Al Stump, in his second book on Cobb, suggests they were young lovers.

The Rockettes have been around for ages, starting back in the 1920s when Russell had the idea of doing a Ziegfeld Follies–style show featuring sixteen girls. It became a smash hit, traveling all around the country.” Bunny spoke quickly as the elevator rose. “Eventually, the impresario S. L. Rothafel, a.k.a. Roxy, brought the troupe to his Roxy Theatre in New York and changed the name to the Roxyettes.” “That’s a mouthful.

Best known as Glinda, the good witch in The Wizard of Oz (and as the wife of Ziegfeld), Billie Burke had a rosy, upbeat series promoting herself as “that bright morning star.” She portrayed a woman of uncertain age who would go out of her way to aid a bum in distress or help neighborhood kids get a playground. She constantly mixed metaphors, as in “Let sleeping dogs gather no moss,” and was well placed on Saturday mornings.

It was on Sullivan’s 1932 series that listeners first heard the voices of Jack Benny, Jack Pearl, Irving Berlin, Florenz Ziegfeld, and George M. Cohan. Sullivan’s radio fame was enhanced by his newspaper column, “Little Old New York,” in the New York Daily News. His Toast of the Town (CBS, June 20, 1948–June 6, 1971) was the biggest variety hour of early television.

She won an amateur night at Keeney’s Theater in Brooklyn, singing When You Know You’re Not Forgotten by the Girl You Can’t Forget. Her prize was $10, and she gathered $23 in coins from the floor of the stage. She worked for George M. Cohan but was fired when Cohan learned that she couldn’t dance. After singing with a road show, she appeared in New York musical revues. A struggling young songwriter, Irving Berlin, gave her a musical piece called Sadie Salome and suggested she sing it in Yiddish dialect at the Columbia Burlesque House, where she was working. In the audience that night was Florenz Ziegfeld, whose Follies were at the pinnacle of Broadway entertainment.

She had seen the faces of shattered dreams, the zippy Ziegfeld girls, the doll-faced divorcées, the wellborn wives in opulent ivory towers, knocked down and knocked right out.

She had seen the faces of shattered dreams, the zippy Ziegfeld girls, the doll-faced divorcées, the wellborn wives in opulent ivory towers, knocked down and knocked right out.

For example, Joseph Urban designed the Bath & Tennis Club, referred to as the B&T, in 1926. A talented architect, he was also a set designer for various operas and the Ziegfeld Follies. The socialite Marjorie Merriweather Post, heir to the Postum Cereal Company fortune, the country’s wealthiest woman of her day and the wife of stockbroker E. F. Hutton, also hired Urban to finish her gargantuan home, Mar-a-Lago, a stone's throw from the B&T.

Miss Brooks had a devilish streak of witty sarcasm. Her dialogue was wonderfully “feline,” as critic John Crosby would note: her snappy comeback to the stuffy assertions of her boss, principal Osgood Conklin, bristled with intelligence and fun. She complained about her low pay (and how teachers identified with that!), got her boss in no end of trouble, pursued biologist Philip Boynton to no avail, and became the favorite schoolmarm of her pupils, and of all America. The role was perfect for Eve Arden, a refugee of B movies and the musical comedy stage. Arden was born Eunice Quedens in Mill Valley, Calif., in 1912. In her youth she joined a theatrical touring group and traveled the country in an old Ford. She was cast in Ziegfeld’s Follies revivals in 1934 and 1936, working in the latter with Fanny Brice. She became Eve Arden when producer Lee Shubert suggested a name change: she was reading a novel with a heroine named Eve, and combined this name with the Elizabeth Arden cosmetics on her dressing room table.