The Mystery of The Mural
This untitled 1938 mural is the work of the late New Yorker cartoonist and illustrator Syd Hoff.
Niece finds uncle’s ‘missing’ art work – in a Mimi’s Café
An American art-history mystery
I put the menu down and what I saw hanging on the wall, just eight feet away was a five-by-nine foot painting that looked very, very familiar, yet I wasn’t sure why. I kept staring at the humorous-looking character in the middle – the round-bellied man with a moustache, dancing among a crowd of well-dressed diners, while wearing his red nightshirt and holding what appeared to be a large fan. “Where have I seen this character before?” I wondered. There was no signature on the mural.
After a few more minutes, it finally sank in. The character that animated the painting reminded me so strongly of the work of my late uncle, famed New Yorker magazine cartoonist Syd Hoff, that I knew it must be connected to him in some way. As I left Mimi’s Cafe in Tustin, CA, I asked the hostess if she could shed any light on the provenance of the striking mural. She couldn’t, but she did give me the contact information for their corporate office, which I immediately called after returning home. I discovered that 41 of their 117 restaurants throughout the country had recently been redecorated, which included the addition of the painting in question. Yet, both the decorator with whom I spoke, and the vendor used to reproduce the mural, claimed not to know anything about who the artist was or how they had come by the painting.
As I tired to trace its origins and learn why there was no signature, I discovered a powerful piece of evidence at home – in my Syd Hoff treasure chest which consisted of a sizable cache of collectible items my mother, Syd’s younger sister, accumulated over the years. It was a single sheet – a tear sheet from a 1996 Elle Décor magazine that Syd sent my mom years earlier, featuring a photo of his mural, signature and all.
Feeling frustrated, I contacted Elle Décor’s editor, Margaret Russell in hopes of solving this mystery. Apparently the page came from an article highlighting the East Coast home of fashion designer Randolph Duke. “I had styled the photo shoot 12 years ago, and I still remember how fabulous that painting was in Randolph’s house.” she shared.
After an exhaustive search, I contacted Randolph Duke. Apparently he sold the original mural about 8-10 years earlier to The Yard Sale Store in East Hampton owned by antique dealer Vinnie Manzo. I spoke with Vinnie, and while he remembered the mural, he indicated he “no longer had a record of the sale.”
To this day, the owner of the original mural remains a mystery, but it is probably hanging on a wall in someone’s home in the Hampton’s. My interest was solely in locating the original and sharing with the owner about its rich history and the creative life of a great cartoonist.
I was also determined to secure proper attribution for Syd. Taking legal action against Mimi’s Cafe in 2007, I succeeded in having proper recognition bestowed upon my uncle. A plaque with Syd Hoff’s full name was placed on the wall next to each painting in all 41 locations.
Savoring my victory, I could not help wondering if this painting held a story worth unraveling. A few months later while in NYC I met Terry Trilling, the widow of Barney Josephson, who owned Café Society. She shared fond memories about Syd and his mural which were included in her upcoming book Café Society… the wrong place for the Right people. Aside from Syd, I also learned of the other artists who contributed their artistic talents to the walls inside Café Society in the late 30’s. They included: Adolf Dehn, William Gropper, Sam Berman, Abe Birnbaum, John Groth, Ad Reinhardt, Christina Malman, and Alice Sandler. All had amazing careers and contributed greatly to the world of art. Terry and I stayed in touch for many years to follow.
Today I am content having a reproduction of the large mural hanging on the wall in my own home and sharing with friends about my uncle – Syd Hoff…the man behind the dinosaur.
Carol Edmonston
Syd’s niece
Fond memories of how Syd met Barney and the story behind the mural…
Syd: “It was a cold winter day in the Village. I just happened to be walking down the street and along came Sam Shaw, whom I knew, and he had this guy with him who was dressed much nicer than Sam. Sam introduced me to Barney Josephson. We walked over to Sheridan Square, to this empty store, down the stairs. The chairs were on the tables. It was just nothing. Apparently there had been some kind of club thee before. Barney described roughly the club he had in mind. In a second I had agreed to do a mural.” (Cafe Society…the wrong place for the Right people Chapter 4- pgs 23, 24)
Syd did a large painting of one of his working-class characters, a big man with a walrus mustache, in red underwear from new to ankles doing a fan dance. Some dowager society ladies sitting at their tables are haughtily surveying him through their lorgnettes. Syd had just finished signing his name on the lower righthand corner: hoff with a small h, a little o, and two little fs.
He now wanted to decorate the rest rooms. In the ladies lounge Syd drew a white line-drawing on the black wall an old fashion bathtub. Seated in the tub is a dowager charger with water up to her bosom, her lorgnette with her even in the tub. Beside her is her butler, the one Syd always drew with the turned up nose, one sleeve rolled up, ready to go into the water with his hand. As the butler is about to fish for the soap, the dowager explains, “I thought the ad said, ‘it floats.” This was the famous advertising slogan for Ivory Soap.
There was narrow strip of wall on the left. Syd drew the same dowager leading an overgrown boy of about thirteen by the hand into the room. The boy is wearing a Little Lord Fauntleroy outfit, Buster brown collar flowing tie pants cut off jut about the knees, buttons on the side, silk stockings, and patent leather shoes. Mama is saying, “It’s time you went by yourself already.”
In the men’s room Syd drew a urinal. Alongside he painted a twelve-inch ruler. His dowager is peering into the urinal through her lorgnette, exclaiming, “Ooooh…sooo big.” That was the only cartoon in the men’s room. (pgs 34-35)
Village Preservation Blog – (Dec 30, 2015)
Sarch Bran Apman
Café Society, the first racially integratednightclub in New York City, was a groundbreaking institution. Opened in 1938 onSheridan Square, the existence of Café Society was possible due to the vision of its founder and owner, Barney Josephson, a former shoe salesman, and its location in the welcoming, politically liberal community of Greenwich Village. While Café Society was only open for a little over a decade, its radical politics had an enormous impact, and its legacy lived on long after its doors closed in 1949.
Barney Josephson frequented jazz halls such as the Cotton Club during the 1920’s and 30’s while he worked in the shoe business, seeing the likes of jazz legends Duke Ellington and Ethel Waters. On the advice of his brother, Barney quit his job in New Jersey, moved to New York, and set out to fulfill his dream of opening a nightclub. He looked for a place in Greenwich Village, claiming rents were cheaper there, but also knowing it was one of the few places, if not the only place, in Manhattan that would welcome the radically progressive club he hoped to establish. He found a space in the basement of a building at Sheridan Square, where West 4th Street merges with Washington Place. In 1938, Café Society opened as the first racially integrated nightclub in New York City.
The inspiration for the radically progressive club Barney hoped to establish came from the political European cabarets. He wanted to reflect bohemian traditions, unconventional social habits, and a free spirit. Barney also pictured his cabaret as a place for political exchange and Communist meetings. He maintained a politically leftist house policy in his club, as well as a commitment to challenging not only racism but sexism.
Café Society welcomed some of the biggest talents in jazz history to its stage, including Josh White, Ida James, Duke Ellington, Bessie Smith, Count Basie, Nat King Cole, John Coltrane, Miles Davis, Ella Fitzgerald, Lena Horne, Big Joe Turner, Nellie Lutcher, and Mary Lou Williams. It also welcomed some of the most influential African American intellectuals of the time, including Walter White, Ralph Bunche, Richard Wright, E. Franklin Frazier, Sterling Brown, Langston Hughes, and Paul Robeson. This is all to say that Café Society was a truly extraordinary place, which again made Greenwich Village the logical place for its founding.
It was at Café Society that “Strange Fruit” was first performed by Billie Holiday. “Strange Fruit” was the first song of its kind–an explicit song of protest against racism, lynching, and a government that refused to pass anti-lynching laws. The song became incredibly popular, even allowing Café Society to begin to advertise itself and the song – an indication of the power and influence of “Strange Fruit.”
Café Society’s reputation and influence by the way of its leftist politics ultimately led to its demise. With the growth of conservatism during World War II and the start of the Cold War, the club fell under a cloud of suspicion because of its leftist politics. It had held numerous events during World War II with known Communists, and had long been suspected to be a Communist Party front, given Barney’s unusual lack of entertainment experience. Furthermore, Barney had familial ties to the Communist Party.
In 1941, J. Edgar Hoover opened a file on John Hammond, the club’s “unofficial music director.” Two years later, the FBI began a dossier on Barney that would eventually grow to 2,100 pages. Barney was placed on the Security Index, and his businesses were put under surveillance as well. This was partially due to the fact that Leon, the brother who had convinced Barney to open Café Society, was one of the most outspoken members of the Communist Party in the United States at the time and had allegedly participated in a false-passport operation on behalf of Soviet intelligence. Ultimately, Leon was subpoenaed by the House of Un-American Activities Committee. He refused to answer questions and was convicted for contempt of court. Bad press followed, linking Leon to Barney and Café Society, and business at this club and his other on the Upper East Side dropped by 45%. After losing $90,000 over the course of a year, Barney sold both of his clubs in 1949.