Rooty Toot Toot (1951)

UPA logo, Alvin Lustig, 1950

Among the cartoon cognoscenti, UPA is a legend. Formed in 1944, United Productions of America developed very quickly into THE postwar progressive animation studio. It reached its zenith within a few short years of its existence and almost as quickly it dissipated due to internal conflicts and external pressures. Regardless, it left a legacy which continues to heavily influence animators as it has since the early-1950s. Its long and storied history has been well documented online, this link as well as this one being two good places to start for some of the details.

John Hubley, c.1950

One can make a rather strong argument that the heart and soul of early UPA was John Hubley. Having paid his dues over at Disney over the course of 10 years, Hubley left after the labor disputes of 1941. While at Disney he worked mainly on backgrounds, perhaps most notably (for the purposes of this particular weblog) on the animation of Igor Stravinsky's "The Rite of Spring" (1913) for the Fantasia feature length film in 1940. Not only did this segment receive the approval of the composer himself who visited the animators studio during production, but it also represented some of the most avant grade work that Disney's animators produced - certainly up until that time. Setting aside the fact that Disney and Stokowski took GREAT liberties with the piece, it is a remarkable achievement - not to mention my first exposure to Stravinsky.

The Rite of Spring, Directed by Bill Roberts & Paul Satterfield, Fantasia, 1940

Another visitor to the Disney studios was architect Frank Lloyd Wright in 1939. In a move that is not at all surprising, the maestro brought along a 1934 film by Russian/Soviet animator Ivan Ivanov-Vano that he felt the Disney talent should be aware of. The Tale of Czar Durondai would be very influential indeed, especially on Hubley and another progressive animator with pro-union and genuine communist interests, David Hilberman. Sadly, the aforementioned film seems MIA online, but here is Ivanov-Vano's 1933 Black and White which gives you an indication of his animation style at the time.

Black and White, Directed by Ivan Ivanov-Vano, 1933

After the Disney strike of '41 and the studio's subsequent settlement with the Screen Cartoonists Guild, Hilberman was one of the first to leave Walt's behemoth. Along with several other like-minded Disney refugees he started Industrial Film & Poster Service in 1943. With the Second World War not yet over and the Soviet Union still an ally their progressive politics, hopeful ideals, and attendance at US Communist Party meetings was not yet considered "anti-American". In fact by the time Hudley joined the organization and it was renamed United Productions of America in 1944, much of its work was for US Government-sponsored animated shorts (propaganda by any other name). However this ground to a halt at the conclusion of the war, when the most famous Red Scare in American history started seeping into the political and social landscape. In short, Hilberman was "named" (by Disney, no less) which successfully ended UPA's lucrative government work and forced them into the theatrical animation business.

The forced move resulted in some of the most innovative animation to date as well as some of the most influential animation every created. Their success was not only critical, but popular as well, receiving academy awards for both 1949's "The Ragtime Bear" (featuring Hubley's most well-known creation, a caricature of a McCarthy-ite named Mr. Magoo) as well as 1950's "Gerald McBoing-Boing" (based on a story by Dr. Seuss).

The Ragtime Bear, Directed by John Hubley, 1949

Gerald McBoing-Boing, Directed by Robert Cannon, 1950

1951's "Rooty Toot Toot" was an even further visual and musical innovation. Visually, the animated short's closest kin were the contemporaneous album covers drawn by David Stone Martin for Mercury and Clef Records. The music (by noted bandleader Phil Moore) was a mix of jazz, blues, and modern classical and took the advances of the Stravinsky Fantasia segment a step further and firmly into the post-war mid-century world. The voices include the legendary Thurl Ravenscroft and Annette Warren. While the latter also served as a singing stand-in for both Lucille Ball and Ava Gardner around this time, the former's voice is well known to anyone that has every been to Disneyland, watched and old Kellogg's Corn Flakes commercial (that features Tony The Tiger, that is), or has sung-along with 1966's "Your a Mean One, Mr. Grinch". On top of it all, the subject matter is very adult and quite serious - albeit handled in a playful manner only possible through animation. It's a retelling of the 19th Century Frankie and Johnny folk legend, popularized by everyone from Mississippi John Hurt to Sam Cooke. The short was again nominated for an Oscar, but failed to repeat the success of its predecessors.

UPA logo, Alvin Lustig, 1947

"Rooty Toot Toot" was a visual reflection of much of what UPA was about at the time. Alvin Lustig had designed UPA's initial 1940s logo as well as their 1950 re-branding which is now instantly recognizable and somewhat iconic. Both designs represent the modernist aesthetic at its finest. John Lautner, the father of Googie Architecture and a student of Frank Lloyd Wright, designed the UPA Burbank studio in 1949 around the same time he designed West Hollywood's landmark Googie's coffee shop. And there was a strong contingent of modern jazz fans among the UPA ranks, Hubley in particular. Chico Hamilton reportedly even contributed to a later episode of Gerald McBoing-Boing. Even in subject matter, the cartoon reflected something of the egalitarian atmosphere cultivated by the principals of UPA, with no small degree of ambiguous morality.

Here, without further ado, is the film in question...

Rooty Toot Toot, Directed by John Hubley, 1951

Unfortunately, UPA crumbled soon after the release of the above short. Hilberman had left early on for NYC, his own firm and mostly advertising shorts before briefly leaving the country and then settling in the San Francisco-Bay Area where he taught at San Francisco State University for a number of years. The increasingly threatening activities of the House Committee on Un-American Actitivies forced many either out of the business or at least temporarily out of Hollywood. Hubley was summoned and refused to name names. By 1952 he was out of UPA, working out of LA for another 3 years, before moving to New York. He continued to work in independent animation until his death in 1977. UPA has continued to operate over the years but is a pale reflection of its former self.

For further reading and insight into some of the ideas behind UPA in its original incarnation, I do recommend this 1980 article on Dave Hilberman. 

In 1983, Walt Disney's nephew, Roy Disney, purchased the Lautner-designed UPA building in Burbank, California. He offered significant financial incentives to the occupants at the time to move out immediately. He then completely razed the building. All that survives of the era in the area is The Smoke House restaurant next door built in 1949 and frequented by the UPAers over the years both for their hamburgers and booze. Next time you are in that part of the world, stop in and raise a glass for Hubley, Hilbermann, and Mr. Magoo. 

Sonata for Flute, Viola, and Harp by Claude Debussy (1915)

The Jimmy Giuffre 3 photographed by William Claxton, an alternate shot of what was used on his first Atlantic LP

I've only recently (read as: last week) learned that Memorial Day here in the United States is also known as the unofficial start of Summer. Equinoxes aside, I guess I can accept this as it does make a certain amount sense. But what that means to me is not that I can start wearing white again, but rather that it is time to dig out the debut LP by the Jimmy Giuffre 3 on Atlantic Records. Recorded over the course of 2 sessions at Capitol Records Studios (possibly the Tower then in its first year of operation, but perhaps on December 3rd and 4th, 1956 in Los Angeles by reed player (and fellow Italian-American) Giuffre, Jim Hall (guitar) and Ralph Pena (bass), the LP gained its seasonal association for me due to my first exposure to "The Train and the River" as featured in Jazz on a Summer's Day (more on that one some other time). That aside, there is a warm breeze to the music that provides some aural hint of long sunny days. Something Los Angeles experiences more than many of us during the year perhaps, but at the very least there is vaguely something...well...Summery about the music.

For those of you who have not heard the original studio recording of the above mentioned classic, have a listen:

Every time I listen to this disc, I hear something more. Not only is it deep music but it swings like heck - even in the absence of a pianist or drummer. As I am want to do, I ended up spending a little time digging deeper into this topic. After retreading much of the same virtual ground online, I went to my bookshelf and reached for Ted Gioia's excellent West Coast Jazz: Modern Jazz in California, 1945-1960 from 1992. If you are a jazz head, dig those great West Coast sounds, and are looking to add to your Summer reading list, I cannot recommend this book enough. It's easily one of my favorite books written about jazz music. But (as usual) I digress. I recalled that Gioia devoted a chapter to Giuffre, which I re-read Monday morning. 

As well worn as my copy of West Coast Jazz is, it too is a work of art that always reveals a little something more every time I return to it. This time around concerned the origins Jimmy Giuffre 3. Giuffre is quoted by Gioia as having been inspired by Claude Debussy's Sonata for Flute, Viola, and Harp in putting together this particular combo with himself, Pena, and Hall in the respective flute, viola, and harp roles. Debussy! Of course the great French Romantic composer's name is familiar to those who have dug a little deeper into modern jazz, everyone from Duke Ellington to Gil Evans to Charlie Parker expressed admiration or showed some influence. But what is unique in this instance is how a single piece of music - and a piece of chamber music at that - influenced the concept of an entire combo, and across genres at that. 

Debussy and his daughter near the end of his life (and her's) enjoying a picnic.

This particular piece is one of Debussy's later works: he would die of rectal cancer only 3 years after completing this sonata. As a composer and artist, Debussy is fascinating, not only for his music and for the time he emerged from, but for his deep appreciation of and influences by the visual arts. He was remarkably modern, employing musical devices that many of us still have not caught up with. Dissonance and whole-tone scales aside, he composed beautiful and challenging music which fortunately has experienced a fair amount of appreciation over the years and is accessible both via recorded works and usually wherever large symphony orchestras perform regularly. 

I will in no way claim to be an expert on his music - I am a casual admirer - but I must say that it is one of his more interesting and appealing pieces. I've probably listened to it half a dozen times today and it, too, continues to reveal its layers with each subsequent listen. I suspect this will continue to be the case for years to come. But for now I am content with the perfect soundtrack for an early-Summer morning. Sit back, put on a pair of headphones, or stream this through your home hi-fi and enjoy!

Allen Edmonds Kenwood (2011)

Let's talk about Allen Edmonds. More specifically, their current version of the classic beefroll loafer, named the Kenwood. They introduced the production model, made in their Port Washington, Wisconsin factory, a few years back. Initially, I was a real fence-sitter. The burgundy and black versions were only available in gentry (aka brush-off aka plasticized) leather and the shell cordovan was a bit out of reach for me. And the tan saddle version shown above? Well, let's just say that the online catalog photo was a bit underwhelming.

But as I so often I do: I kept circling back around the Kenwood. Why? Well so often is the case a musician is involved. You see, when I was 14 (more specifically the Summer of 1985) I made a very important connection between music and clothing. I not only wanted to play music like my emerging heroes, but I wanted to dress like them as well. Of course it helped that Los Angeles (the closest metropolis to my suburban digs) was experiencing the Paisley Underground and a good friend fell in a group of kids he referred to as mods. In short, it was the first step on a lifelong path of the shoes matching the sound, as it well.

But let me get back to the Kenwood. You see, I never really dug beefroll loafers. Sure sure, I knew they had their admirers and their place - my English friends seemed particularly fond of them - but they just did not do it for me. And then I saw this...

That's West Coast jazz and pop master guitarist Howard Roberts circa 1955 or so in the recording studio in Los Angeles. For my eyes this shot (photographer, unfortunately, unknown) matches Francis Wolff's later celebrated Blue Note photographs in every way. It is just plain cool. But don't smoke, kids. Seriously. Most importantly with regards to this post, let's take a cue from my pal, Mod Male, and focus in on a detail...

Yes a beefroll loafer, probably black, replete with a rear seam detail that I had only seldom seen on examples of these shoes. OK, so maybe these shoes were alright after all. Fast forward to when I first saw the Kenwood, some of the details of the shoe appealed to me thanks to Mr. Roberts, namely the rear seam. But the Kenwood had another detail that appealed to me: the pinked edge of the tongue. And there was something about it that reminded me of another photo I had seen.

Miles Davis, photographed by the aforementioned Francis Wolff at Rudy Van Gelder's studio in Hackensack, New Jersey on March 6, 1954. Again, we can take a look at a detail up close...

While not as pronounced as the Allen Edmonds model, there is the pinked edge that had caught my eye. Very likely a tan saddle pair as well. And while we are at it, nice sock/trouser contrasts both in terms of color tone and fabrics. And while 1954 marked the beginning of Davis's adoption of Ivy League as part of his sartorial style (something I have written about a greater length elsewhere on this very same weblog), he was photographed 6 months earlier wearing what is most likely the same pair of shoes...

Chet Baker, Miles Davis, and Rolf Ericson photographed on September 13, 1953 at The Lighthouse Cafe in Hermosa Beach, California. Miles had kicked his habit and took a road trip to the Coast where he jammed with Baker and Ericson alongside his bandmate from the Charlie Parker Quintet days, Max Roach. By the way, a recording of this session was released decades later by Fantasy/OJC as At Last! And Miles's tan beefrolls were there...

So when I happened into the Allen Edmonds shop in Union Square last year during one of their semi-annual sales and saw the Kenwoods up close and personal, my perception had shifted enough to encourage me to try on a pair of the tan saddles. No gentry leather, decent looking, USA-made. Perhaps I could warm to these. Admittedly the slightly burnished look still left me a bit cold, but I was in the mood for something different and the price was right so I gave them a shot.

The verdict? Well, I've had a uneasy 8 month relationship with the shoes. On the plus side, they are sharp as a tack. The color was much more versatile than I had suspected. In fact, a couple of trips to A Shine & Co. (don't tell my tailor that I get my shoes shined - it's a long story) and several coats of Meltonian goldenrod shoe cream and the richness of the leather has really come to life. On the flip side, I broke a heel within a few weeks of owning the shoes. A simple repair for sure, but not terribly encouraging for my first Allen Edmonds experience. I should also say that they stretched rather quickly resulting in a not too pleasant fit for my 10.5 E feet. I've since solved that issue by wearing a pair of thick Wigwams or a cotton liner sock, but again somewhat rough seas for my maiden voyage with the shoemaker. Still, my Father swears by Allen Edmonds, so I will give them some more time. As for a recommendation? Well, I can only give a highly qualified one and I would love to hear about your Allen Edmonds experiences in the comments section below.

You Never Forget Your First Time (1984)

Yes, there IS a first time for everything. This week, for the first time, I am featuring a guest piece here on what has been a personal endeavor. Jimmy Frost Mellor, main man of the Talk Ivy Forum, shares with us some of his memories of one of the icons of The Look. I am also debuting my new weekly publishing schedule, namely Tuesday 07:01 ante meridian, Pacific Time. Yes, this means you can expect regular posts here on A Modernist in the coming weeks. See you next Tuesday.  

"Kensington High Street, October 1984. Rain. And not just any old rain either, this was that very specific London rain that comes down grey and soaks you to the skin within seconds. But I was in a good mood. As far as I was concerned, the sun was shining and the birds were singing because I was going to a shop called Meenies where I had just heard they had discounted Bass Weejuns on sale.

I was broke, as always back then, but I still had to have some. I'd only just learned about them after spending years wearing English loafers that just didn't look quite right to one obsessed with the American look. And Weejuns didn't disappoint.

The shoe department was in the basement of Meenies and they were operating on a pile them high and sell them cheap basis so the first sight that greeted me at the bottom of the stairs was quite literally a wall of Weejuns. Shoe boxes stacked like bricks filling the wall ahead with a few display pairs dotted about here and there around the shop.

Maybe it was the London weather stirring up the atmosphere or maybe it was my senses heightened with the anticipation of getting my hands on these legendary imported loafers, but the smell of leather was wonderful down there. That rich, intoxicating smell that all shoe fanatics love...

Best of all: the place was deserted! A shoplifter's paradise in retrospect, but that never occurred to me I was so keen to start trying on loafers. They had the Penny and the Tassel styles only, in black or something like the colour of dried blood that I was later to learn they called 'wine'. Wine looked uber-Ivy to me and I loved them on sight, but my finances were restricted and I always needed to justify my purchases to myself by buying things I would get the most wear out of back then. This line of thinking also delayed me buying a much-coveted pink buttondown for ages also. So I went for the black Penny Weejun as my entry into the life of a London Weejunaire, but spent ages looking at the wine Weejuns and planning ahead. If I only ever ate once a day, how soon would it be before I could get a pair?

Americans are often amazed and bemused when English Ivy League fans go into rhapsodies about the style and design of the basic Bass Weejun Penny Loafer. To them it's so commonplace that they barely register it at all. But not in London. In London they were different, but not obviously so. Just the right look to blend in and yet stand out: the ethos which is at the heart of the Ivy League style in London.

First came that snub, rounded toe. Then the 'pie crust' gathered stitching on the vamp which was so alien to traditional English shoemakers What were these shoes? Bedroom slipper moccasins presented as being dress shoes? Brilliant! What a bolt from the clear, new, brave blue in this grey and rainy city. They're smart, but they are a brand new smart which comes from Another Country. Here's my credit card...

Still to this day only a very few certain London shops have Weejuns. From Meenies I graduated to The Natural Shoe Store in Chelsea and Covent Garden before I discovered John Simons in 1985 and a much wider world of Weejuns beyond just the basics that all the rest offered. Today I buy all my Weejuns there. But not often...Style lasts!"


- Jimmy Frost Mellor, May 2012


Editor's Footnote: the above advertisements are from 1951, 1960, and 1965 respectively.

Bell Book and Candle (1958)

If Richard Quine's 1958 film, Bell Book and Candle, had starred a different pair of lead actors it quite likely would not have been somewhat doomed to obscurity. But as it was the second 1958 pairing of James Stewart and Kim Novac released nearly 8 months after Alfred Hitchcock's Vertigo, it has not received the same re-evaluation that Hitch's now broadly praised classic has. Oddly enough, Bell Book and Candle, received more notoriety at the time of release garnering a Golden Globe nomination for Best Motion Picture (Comedy) as well as two minor Academy Award nominations. Vertigo, somewhat famously, was met with a lukewarm popular and critical reception upon its release. As we all know, the retrospective view changed significantly.

So what about Bell Book and Candle? Well, I could bore you with a plot synopsis, but let's just watch the original trailer and dispense with that formality, shall we?



In short, it's a wonderfully entertaining way to spend 106 minutes of your time. Originally a stage play, the 1950 Broadway run borrowed its plot-line somewhat from a 1942 Fredric March/Veronica Lake film vehicle, I Married a Witch. Stewart and Novak carry the film well, of course. But, for me, it's the supporting cast and some of the production details that really appeal to me.

Ernie Kovacs, in many ways the first modern American comedian, had a profound influence on both television and comedy. If you are not hip to him, you should be. Fortunately, he is well represented on YouTube. He is more poorly represented in cinema, which make his performance here all that much more welcome.

Playing Novac's warlock-of-a-brother (Did I mention Novak portrays a witch? No? You're right, I didn't. Scroll back up and watch the trailer already!) is the late, great Jack Lemmon. I could (and have) wax poetic on Lemmon as he really is one of my favorite actors from this era. But the fact that he portrays a bongo-beating, Ivy League-styled (flannel suits, bow ties abound - yes, Lemmon again proves himself to be one of the foremost exponents of what is now called "Hollywood Ivy") fellow named Nicky in this film earns this role a special place in my heart. Nicky makes his first appearance as part of the jazz combo in the fictional Zodiac Club set in Greenwich Village. No, I am not making this up and, yes, it's one of those cinematic high points for me. Here's the scene in its entirety:



Rounding out the Zodiac combo are brothers Pete and Conte Candoli on trumpets and Elek Bacsik on guitar. The Candolis should be very familiar to jazz heads as they played for a variety of orchestras in the 1940s and 1950s before settling into to steady studio work in LA in that latter decade. Bacsik is significantly more obscure. A Romani Hungarian musician and cousin to Django Reinhardt, this film was probably his first introduction to American audiences (although his appearance on record with Dizzy Gillespie 4 years later most likely helped him reach more jazz fans). By the way, the French singer onstage when Stewart and his on-screen fiancé enter the club is Phillipe Clay a singer, mime, and character actor.

Support your local video rental merchant today, rent Bell Book and Candle tonite!

Tony Bennett (2012)

February 14, 2012 was proclaimed "Tony Bennett's Valentine Day" by San Francisco's Mayor, Ed Lee. More than a thousand people filled City Hall for a celebration of the man responsible for popularizing "I Left My Heart In San Francisco."


The song was premiered by Bennett in San Francisco on stage at The Venetian Room inside The Fairmont Hotel, high atop Nob Hill during an extended engagement there in December 1961. His pianist, Ralph Sharon, was responsible for getting the song in the band book. The New York songwriters, George Cory and Douglass Cross, were friends of Sharon's and had given him the song some time in 1960. Knowing San Francisco was on the tour itinerary, Sharon took it along with him and the rest is pretty much history. 


Almost needless to say, the song hit big with crowds in San Francisco. Upon returning to New York in 1962, Bennett cut a version of the tune on January 23rd at the legendary 30th Street Studios for Columbia Records. While it initially only appeared as the B-side of his "One Upon a Time" single, released on February 2, 1962, its immediate popularity and success resulted in it being chosen as the title track of Bennett's next LP released in the Summer of 1962. Bennett later claimed that he first performed the song on television on The Tonight Show hosted by Johnny Carson. Bennett was a guest on Carson's first show as host, broadcast on October 1, 1962, but it is unclear if this is the appearance Tony referred to. 


Bennett has returned to The Venetian Room a few times over the years to celebrate the song. February 14, 2012 was one such occasion. Tickets were $5,000 to benefit the University of San Francisco's Department of Cardiology. I was not in attendance.


Enjoy the clip at the top of this post, as the 85-year old vocalist leads his band through a soundcheck performance of the classic. One can't help but think this will be the last time the walls of the Venetian Room will see something quite like this...

Merry Christmas, Baby (1947)

The original. Recorded in Los Angeles, California and released by local, indie (yes, they were called "indies" back then as well) label Exclusive Records near the end of 1947. It was both a local and national hit, reaching the number 3 spot on Billboard's "Most Played Juke Box Records" chart. Guitarist and bandleader Johnny Moore was the brother of fellow guitarist Oscar Moore, the latter of whom was peaking in popularity with The King Cole Trio at this time. Johnny's similarly styled cocktail combo, The Three Blazers, had a distinctively more dominant blues edge due in no small part to vocalist/pianist Charles Brown. The Moores and Brown all originally hailed from Texas and eventually all settled in the Los Angeles area. In fact, Moore's trio (rounded out by Eddie Williams on bass) arrived on the West Coast intact and took the place of The King Cole Trio on the Atlas Records roster when Cole and Co. jumped shipped for Capitol Records. The Three Blazers were tremendously popular on the West Coast, particularly on Central Avenue in Los Angeles. Black-owned Exclusive Records picked them up  and shared in their success after the trio's few discs with Atlas went nowhere. Brown, frustrated by Moore's headstrong manner of running the combo, left for a solo career in 1948 and The Three Blazers never really recovered in spite of a string of excellent piano men and singers - as well as Oscar Moore joining the group as a second guitarist after he had been eased out of the King Cole Trio. 

Merry Christmas, Everyone.