RESIDENTS: Paul duPont

 Today, we welcome back the residents of note column with Paul duPont, famed costume designer of the '50s and resident of No. 5.      

Paul duPont, 1955

Born in 1906, he was a budding ballet dancer when a fall through an open trap door resulted in a broken back and two years recuperation. He tried his luck in fashion, opening a shop in Paris, but this failed.

Then, back in the States, he fell in with Helen Hayes who convinced him to move to New York City and join the Group Theater. Around the same time, he also accepted a job offer from Eaves Costume, where he would work for the rest of his life.

Ultimately, he produced costumes for 64 Broadway shows, three ballets, one opera, and one Ice Capades. And that was just a warm-up to his television work, starting when he signed as costume designer for "Your Show of Shows," then signing with producer Max Liebman to design the costumes for his lavish spectaculars.

Life magazine ran pictures taken by duPont of an Eaves Costume party; Time pronounced him television's top costume designer. Everything was fine ‒ except for the small medicine cabinet he always carried around with him containing "aspirin, empirin, dysoxin, phenobarbital (to calm myself down) and dexedrine (to pep myself up)."

TV Guide article, 1955

The Sunday Star (Washington, DC) photo, 1955

The picture above is that of his Tudor City home. One glance at its windows confirmed it was one of No.5's penthouses.

In 1957, his life took an ominous turn. First, a broken leg, then an extended, unexplained hospital stay. His last appearance in print was a one-line item in Dorothy Kilgallen's column, The Voice of Broadway, running on April 17, 1957: 

It is rather astonishing, first for being "thrown out" of a dressing room, followed by being "assaulted for the first time in my career." But that's the end of this part of the story; his assaulter was never revealed.

Then, three days later, Paul duPont was dead, aged 51. This was confirmed by his hometown paper, the Pensacola News-Journal. He died of a heart attack at Lenox Hill hospital, the obituary read. There was no mention of Kilgallen's item. . . nor of the small medicine cabinet that duPont always kept nearby. 

INSTAGRAM Meets the Paint Brush

Here is another admirable effort thanks to a talented group of Instagrammers. There is also a theme this week ‒ all of the entries are illustrations.  

 "View over 42nd Street from Tudor City" by secretsketchnyc         

  "Sunset on a Tudor City Rooftop" by gavindedraw

"Tudor City Bridge" by venustongnyc        

     "Tudor City Bridge" by lisabisbeeart       

"An elevated playground in Tudor City" by secretsketchnyc 

AD CAMPAIGN, 1934

This latest installment in our continuing series of advertising campaigns is this one, which ran in November, 1934. There were only three ads in the campaign, but it was the Depression, after all.      

Why buck the subway crowds when an apartment in Tudor City enables you to walk leisurely to work each morning. . . to relax a bit before dinner each evening. . . and to enjoy the added comfort of maid, valet and laundry service.    

Fall days are shopping days, and if you're planning a winter's wardrobe, you'll find that Tudor City offers close proximity to the smart shops of the town ‒ in addition to sunny apartments, delightful restaurants, extra services. Then, too, you are within easy walking distance of your office.  

No need to spend every evening at home when you live in Tudor City; for theaters, movies, concerts are only a few blocks away. Even your office is near enough to permit an extra hour's doze every morning. Stop by today and see what a delightful apartment you can secure for a modest rental. 

DEAD ENDS

This recently discovered photograph is a simple one ‒ a Dead End sign ‒ but is notable because of where it was. A clue lays right behind it, another sign stating the HOTEL TUDOR was ONE BLOCK away. The picture is taken from the Tudor City bridge, looking east. 

For further understanding, see this photo showing the Murray Hill Diner on the southwest corner of 1st and 42nd. The Hotel Tudor sign is at upper right in shadow. 

At the 41st Street cul-de-sac, there are plenty of signs today.  

There's also a sign at the southern border of Tudor City Place.

No Dead End signage has ever been posted at the 43rd Street cul-de-sac. Instead, we remember the fashion shoot that launched the swinging sixties here ‒ featuring Jean Shrimpton and a Curb Your Dog sign, above. More about that, here.

  

MORE Miscellany

 

We begin with a puzzle from 1934: what is the man doing to the roadway at 1st Avenue and 41st Street? 

And what exactly does the extended leg mean?

Questions, questions! The man in the hat is sticking his pole into a hole, that we are sure of. We took a closer look at the sign, which reads

 

1st Ave 41st

14 ft North of BL

30½ ft W of E curb

Looking N.W.

Not a lot of help, with notations right out of a city almanac and no mention of an extended leg, either. The photo is from the NYC Municipal Library and is entitled "Looking northwest from 1st Avenue, 41st Street." Hmmm. . .

   

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This is an oil painting entitled "Tudor City" from artist Uo Suga that was listed last week for $397.84 on eBay. Too bad the listing ended early, with no explanation.

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"Party at the Ford Foundation" by our good friend, Garth Justice.

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This comes from regular contributor David Reiff. Fabled songwriter Neil Sedaka ‒ "Breaking Up is Hard to Do," "Calendar Girl," "Love Will Keep Us Together" ‒ recently passed away, and in 2012, there was a concert honoring him in the South Park. Above, the flyer and below, the guest of honor.

Sedaka at the Tudor City Greens concert

Anatomy of a PERCY LOOMIS SPERR Photo

This edition of our Anatomy of a Photo series deals with a 1929 picture made by Percy Loomis Sperr, above. Let's take a look, close up.

The real star of the photo is No. 25, in this unusual southern exposure taken from First Avenue. Atop the building is a weathervane, one of the signatures of the buildings of Prospect Place. It toppled over at some point and was never replaced.

Moving down, the sign reads This property will be developed under THE FRENCH PLAN as a part of TUDOR CITY / Fred F. French Companies 250 Madison Avenue. The property, No. 5, was one of the last built. Directly above the sign is a temporary home for tools and such for the upcoming construction.

Just north of the sign, we come across the Socony gas station. Too bad the posters displayed ‒ between the two Socony signs ‒ are unreadable.    

The view north, featuring No. 45 towering over it all. The period Mast-Arm lamp post is a nice touch.

Finally, Prospect Tower brings up the rear, along with its long-gone weathervane.    

FRIGIDAIRE and the TUDOR CITY SIGN

This post was inspired by the advertisement above which ran in the Ft. Worth Star-Telegram on October 21, 1927. It concerned Frigidaire sales in Tudor City.

Here we picture a section of Tudor City ‒ one of the world's largest and most famous dwelling projects. A magnificent development covering several New York squares.

Into Tudor City go one hundred thousand dollars' worth of Frigidaires!

Why was Frigidaire the choice of the Fred F. French Company, Tudor City builders, over the many other makes of electric refrigerators?

Not by chance. An investment of one hundred thousand dollars is not made lightly. Competing makes were tested and compared. Intensive research was conducted by leading engineers.  Laboratory methods of investigation were employed.

All proved Frigidaire superior to the others. Its absolute dependability. Its longer life. Its lower operating cost. 

FRED F. FRENCH CO AND OTHERS INVESTIGATE FOR YOU

Your problem, in proportion to investment, is no different than the Tudor City problem. When you buy a single electric refrigerator, you want the greatest value for the least expenditure ‒ and the Fred F. French Company did when they bought one hundred thousand dollars' worth of Frigidaires.   

Then the copy segues into another area that the reader would be interested in, the cost of a single Frigidaire ‒ $198, completely installed. 

But something else had caught our attention.   

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And that was the Tudor City Sign, above. It's pictured in the papers three weeks after the building opens, and somehow seems that it has been there from the start. 

For further reading about Frigidaire and Tudor City, see here.