To average New Yorkers in 1946, at least those who read the gossip columns, '21' meant celebrities. Crowds of autograph hounds, bobbysoxers and tourists gathered out front to catch a glimpse of the famous as they exited and entered their taxis or limousines. Several notables were captured in photographs for the Life magazine article. Actress Martha Scott, appearing on Broadway at this time in "The Voice of the Turtle," and Robert Ritchie, whoever he might be, were photographed being greeted at the front door, treatment reserved for the most favored customers. Miss Scott arrived swathed in mink. She wore an elaborate hat which remained perched on her head throughout her visit, documented in a series of photos. The couple were escorted to a favorable table in the bar and then, after initial lubrication, to the upstairs dining room where Ritchie was presented with a white carnation. '21' had an employee whose task was the presentation of carnations to the most favored male patrons so that everyone in the room knew that they were important. He was expected to know not only which patrons were worthy of the honor but also which of the patrons did not care to wear a carnation. The couple ordered the red snapper.
Ray Milland, Academy Award winner that year for "The Lost Weekend," and his wife dined with the Earl of Dudley. They had the smoked salmon, sturgeon, breast of pheasant marchand de vin and a rare vintage burgundy ('21' was renowned for its wine cellar). The caption said that Milland was a regular who ate at '21' at least once every day during his recent New York visit. Jack Kriendler is shown chatting up actress Paulette Goddard. Goddard and Milland starred in the witty historical romance "Kitty," playing that week at the Rivoli. Were they both in town to publicize the film when the photos were taken? The caption noted that Kriendler, known as the Baron, at one time owned more than 100 suits and dozens of hats. Kriendler professionally cultivated the air of the elegant, erudite snob, a Viennese nobleman, although his penchant for dressing up as a cowboy and his love of western art also earned him the nickname"Two-trigger Jack."
Composer Richard Rodgers dined with friends. Elliott Roosevelt, FDR's black sheep son, and actress Faye Emerson, his wife of the moment (he had five), relaxed before a fireplace in the main floor lounge, stocked with the latest magazines and newspapers. A marginal player in Hollywood and Broadway. Emerson had raised her public profile by her 1944 marriage to Elliott Roosevelt. She would have her greatest success as a TV talk and game show personality in the '50s.
Novelist Sinclair Lewis put aside his Socialist politics to lunch among the rich and famous with Marcella Powers, whom Life identified as his literary agent. The '21' crowd knew she was also his much younger mistress. Lewis's novel Cass Timberlane, generally regarded as an unworthy successor to the work that won him the Nobel Prize, had been published in 1945. '21,' perhaps, was not the best place for him to be hanging out. Like so many of the literary set of the era Lewis was an alcoholic. In 1937 he had entered a psychiatric hospital after a prolonged drinking binge but had checked himself out after ten days when he was told he had to stop drinking. His chronic alcoholism contributed to his death in 1951. I wonder if he had caught Milland in "The Lost Weekend?"
The postwar era brought changes to the neighborhood. After '21' opened, a string of jazz clubs had sprung up on the block. After the war some of the jazz clubs on West 52nd Street became strip joints and some were known drug havens. Eventually they made way for high-rise office buildings. Meanwhile a new breed of customer, the expense account crowd, proliferated at '21.' Kriendler noted that many of these "business meals," which were reimbursed by employers or written off personal income taxes, were bogus, as indeed they are to this day. One wag even suggested that at some point '21' might be raided again, this time by the IRS looking for tax cheaters. '21' is still going strong and still attracts the movers and shakers but it is not as exclusive as it once was and has an Old Guard feel.
FOR MORE ON '21'
"21" Every Day Was New Year's Eve by Jack Kriendler with H. Paul Jeffers is a breezy source of information on the history of '21," full of gossipy anecdotes about the celebrities who frequented it. Peter Kriendler, who took over as host when his brother Jack died in 1947, was 94 when the book was published in 1999. The last surviving Kriendler brother, he died two years later.