Vanity Fair Hall of Fame

Articles from Vanity Fair Hall of Fame

Composer Leo Ornstein
(Vanity Fair, 1920)

A profile of Futurist composer Leo Ornstein (1893 – 2002). Ornstein appeared on the New York music scene at a very young age; hailed as a genius by many, he performed to packed houses. In 1917, music critic James Huneker(1860-1921) remarked:

I never thought I should live to hear Arnold Schoenberg sound tame, yet tame he sounds—almost timid and halting—after Ornstein who is, most emphatically, the only true-blue, genuine, Futurist composer alive.


Leo Ornstein left the public eye by 1925 and was soon forgotten until the 1970s. This Vanity Fair article was written by James L. Buchanan, who had written a number of pieces on Ornstein and his music throughout his career.

Kosaku Yamada: The First Japanese Composer of Operas
(Vanity Fair, 1919)

Attached, you will find a small profile of Kosaku Yamada (1886 – 1965) published shortly after his New York debut in 1919. Classicly trained in Europe, Yamada organized the first symphonic orchestra of native players to perform the music of Occidental composers under a Japanese conductor, which later became the Tokyo Philharmonic Orchestra. This article outlines some of his various accomplisments up to 1919, while deleting others. Prior to his two year sojurn in the United States, he had composed three Japanese operas: Reisho (1909), Ochitaru Tennyo (1913) and Shichinin No Oujo (1916).

Tamaki Miura
(Vanity Fair, 1915)

Tamaki Miura (1884 – 1946) was a Japanese opera singer most often remembered for having performed in over 2,000 stagings of Madame Butterfly. At the time this short notice appeared she was only one year into her opera career, yet the Vanity Fair music critic recognized talent when he saw it and nominated her for the Vanity Fair Hall of Fame. It was her inclusion in that august body that serves as the the subject for this short paragraph, which is accompanied by a photograph.

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Farewell, Champagne!
(Vanity Fair, 1919)

A chic (if anonymous) poet printed in a fashionable society magazine sings farewellto champagne and pities the poor man-about-town who must now stroll the boulevards with only lemonade on his breath.

Jacob Epstein: Firebrand of Art
(Vanity Fair, 1915)

Jacob Epstein was brought up in the city of New York, being one of a group of young men from the other side of the Bowery, some of whom have since become well known in the arts.

Attached is a photograph of the American expatriot sculptor Jacob Epstein and three of his pieces. This is a short notice heralding the great splash that the artist was making in the London art world of 1915. Although his work can be found in many of the world’s finest museums, Epstein is best remembered today for his creation of the monumental sculpture that marks the grave of Oscar Wilde.

‘The Attack of the Super Novelists”
(Vanity Fair, 1919)

In this article, P.G. Wodehouse (1904 – 1975) sounded-off on a new type of novelist that had surfaced in 1919 – and has yet to decamp. He breaks the novelizing classes into two groups:

…the ordinary novelist, the straightforward, horny-handed dealer in narrative, who is perfectly contented to turn out two books a year, on the understanding – a gentleman’s agreement between himself and his public – that he reserves movie rights and is allowed an occasional photograph in the papers..

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‘The Philosophy of Auguste Rodin”
(Vanity Fair, 1917)

Just prior to the death of Auguste Rodin (1840 – 1917), the Welsh poet and essayist, Arthur Symonsstyle=border:none (1865-1945), reviewed a book written by the French writer, Judith Cladelstyle=border:none (1873-1958) concerning the artist’s work and creative temperament:

AUGUSTE RODIN PRIS SUR LA VIE at once a document and a living thing. The main interest lies in the exactitude with which it records the actual words of Rodin, much as he must have spoken them y

Harsh Words for the Futurists
(Vanity Fair, 1916)

Writing for one of the earliest issues of VANITY FAIR, playwright and culture critic Mary Cass Canfield slammed some nails into the Futurist coffin a wee bit prematurely in this critical essay titled The Passing of the Futurists.

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Typical American Films…
(Vanity Fair, 1916)

The Conde Nast cartoonist Ann Fish wanted her swank readers to know that she was another Brit who recognized the reoccurring formula that young Hollywood relied on all too often and even though the film business was still in it’s infancy, there was such a thing as a typical American movie.

Predictable Characters from the Silent War Movies
(Vanity Fair, 1919)

Here are seven drawings by Henry Raleigh (1880 – 1944) that depict the sorts of silent film characters that were likely to be seen in the 1920s W.W. I movies. These sketches are accompanied by a few dry remarks by the Vanity Fair editors:

No matter how much we may wish to lose sight of the war, it can’t be done. There will always be reminders of it. You suppose that, just because a little thing like peace has been declared, the playwrights, the theatrical managers, and the moving picture producers are going to let a chance like the war get by? Since we have become accustomed to German spies, Red Cross nurse heroines, and motor corps vampires, we could never go back to the prosaic mildness of innocent little country heroines, villains in fur-lined overcoats and cub reporter heroes. No actor will ever again consent to play a society role in evening clothes with flap pockets and jet buttons, when he can appear in a war play wearing an aviator’s uniform and going around in a property airplane.


This 1918 silent movie was certainly mocked for its predictability…

One of the First Reviews of ‘Sons and Lovers’
(Vanity Fair, 1913)

Later in the century there would be many ink-slingers to gush over the talents of D.H. Lawrence (1885 – 1930); but in 1913, the writer would simply have to bide his time and suffer the reviews that were printed in the society pages.

It emphatically is not a book for the ‘young person’, and it is certainly a book that will make the older conservative wince a bit…nevertheless it is a study that was worth doing, and D.H. Lawrence has done it well. He has dealt with very real things in a way that leaves a distinctness of impression unequaled by nine books out of ten one picks up nowadays.

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Claude Monet at the Age of Eighty
(Vanity Fair, 1920)

The editors of VANITY FAIR saluted the eighty year-old painter Claude Monet, praising him as

the only remaining member of a little group of painters – Degas, Manet, Renoir and several others – known as the Master Impressionists.

‘Cupid to Seal the Balkan Peace”
(Vanity Fair, 1913)

By the time this item appeared in print, the Balkan War (1912-1913), was over however some of the swells of Europe put their crowned heads together and collectively came up with the best Medeival plan they could think of in order to insure the promise of peace. The plan was to have:


• the Czar’s daughter, Grand Duchess Olga (1895 – 1918), would wed Serbia’s Crown Prince Alexander


• the Czar’s second daughter, Grand Duchess Tatiana (1897 – 1918), was promised to Rumania’s Crown Prince Charles (1893 – 1959)


• All concerned agreed that Rumania’s Pricess Elizabeth (1894 – 1956) and Crown Prince George of Greece (1890 – 1947) would make a simply splendid couple (they divorced in 1935).

Theater Intermissions and Prohibition
(Vanity Fair, 1919)

Prohibition has been pretty rough on everybody, but there is no class of people which it has hit so hard as the theater-goers. The Federal Amendment has completely wrecked their evenings. It isn’t so bad while the show is going on; the blow falls between the acts. In happier times the intermissions were the high spots of the evening…

With pin-point accuracy, Vanity Fair was able to identify the new minority-victim class that emerged from America’s unfortunate experiment with Prohibition: Broadway theater enthusiasts (It might be argued that the real victims were American bar tenders, many of whom high-tailed it over to Europe where they established a number of American-style bars).

The attached page from the magazine can be classified as humor and is illustrated with six great sketches by Edith Plummer.

Read other articles from 1919.

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Madame X by John Singer Sargent
(Vanity Fair, 1916)

In order to mark the New York arrival of Portrait of Madame X by John Singer Sargent (1856 – 1924), VANITY FAIR’s editors chose to run this anecdote concerning the 1884 creation of the work as well as a reproduction of one of the pencil studies for the profile head of the sitter, Madame Gauterau.

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