The Eyes Have It

I have to admit that she's never been my favorite actress (too nervy, and the slew-of-adopted-chidren thing has always smacked too strongly of some kind of neurosis, not to mention the whole Woody/Woman Scorned thing; nonetheless, she's popped up hereabouts once or twice), but there's no denying that when dear Mr. Eisenstadt snapped her (on this day just 46 years ago, 'round about the time she was filming a little horror movie that made her a star), Mia Farrow was a presence to be reckoned with.  Is there anyone today with this kind of simplicity and intensity, not to mention a complexion of such extraordinary perfection?

Party Girl

On a fine Manhattan evening just 54 years ago, Zsa Zsa Gabor went to a very swish soirée hosted by Prince Aly Khan.  That's Douglas Fairbanks, Jr. there, sitting on her right.  Dear Mr. Eisenstadt appears to have caught her in a pensive moment.  Well, she was a bit at loose ends (in between two of her lesser husbands, a Mr. Hutner, who'd lasted four years, and a Mr. Cosden, who only eked out one) and so was her host.  Perhaps she was wondering whether it might be worth trying to become the third Princess Aly.  Such an alliance would, if nothing else, have been a great deal better than the sordid semi-royalty with which she eventually did became embroiled.

The '50s really were the sisters' glory years, and in her opulent serenity, Zsa Zsa has no idea just how unkind, to her and to the very idea of Gaborismo, the following decades would prove to be.  Just as well; let her enjoy her moment.  I'm guessing those are emeralds.

And what are you up to?

Practice, Practice, Practice

Fifty-two years ago tonight, dear Mr. Eisenstadt snapped this perfectly charming shot of what Life described as "Mrs. Gustav Mahler, widow of composer, raptly listening to his 'Resurrection Symphony,' conducted by Leonard Bernstein, at Carnegie Hall."

Well, possibly, but I think we might be justified in thinking that the lady known to her friends and not inconsiderable number of enemies as Alma Maria Schindler Mahler Gropius Werfel (yes, she got around) finds the Maestro's obsession with her late (first) husband just about as tiresome as she found the composer himself by the time he conveniently shuffled off this mortal coil back in '11.

Yes, I do believe we're safe in saying that this is a picture of a widow (twice over, actually; Gropius she divorced) napping, possibly even snoring lightly, happy in the knowledge that not a soul will dare to say a word about it (not to mention perfectly content in her sables, false fringe, and continuing notoriety-by-association). She's probably dreaming of what Bernstein's excellent cook will whip up for the after-party; she looks like someone who enjoyed a toast point and a glass or two, no?

Three Smart Girls

Some images perfectly capture the moment they were taken; this is one. Eisenstadt snapped these three at a party in Berlin in 1929, when the most famous of them was the woman in the middle: Anna May Wong.

On the left, of course is Dietrich, who by that point had been toiling away for the better of a decade without becoming much more than a slightly risqué leading lady on stage and in unimportant films, a bit of a show-off and a climber. On the right is Leni Riefenstahl, at that point a rising star still four years from finding her niche as the Nazis' cinema darling.

Wong, though, at 24 here, had been a star since her mid-teens, with 30 Hollywood pictures and a handful of European hits behind her. She was a star in cabaret as well, singing wry songs like Noël Coward's "Half-Caste Woman" and showing off her perfect figure in clinging lamé gowns. Talkies kind of did her in, though, forcing her back to Los Angeles and the sort of supporting parts open to even the most beautiful Asian woman in the world.

If you want to know how the story turns out, Richard Corliss wrote an excellent multi-part feature a couple of years ago in Time. It's worth a read.