We're straight from the shops!

In 1937, the year often considered the worst of The Great Depression, a musical called Pins and Needles combined a series of unrelated sketches in an upbeat revue centered on labor issues.  The sketches were the brainchildren of a number of authors, but the majority were written by Harold Rome, who also composed the music for the show. Pins and Needles was produced by the International Ladies Garment Workers Union (ILGWU) as a part of their  social education program to create a better-rounded working environment for union members; it would became the longest running show on Broadway. I wrote my college thesis on the social commentary musicals of the Depression, but at the time, neglected to see Pins and Needles for what it really was: a total PR coup.

The Pins and Needles creation story begins with the election of David Dubinsky as president of the ILGWU five years earlier. When forced to play the dinner party game ("If you could invite 3 people, dead or alive, to dinner, who would you choose?"), Dubinsky would be first on my list. Don't get your panties in a bunch, Susan B. Anthony, you get to come, too; we're having pesto.  The idea of the "Labor Stage" grew out of the new cultural and recreational programs developed under Dubinsky. In his memoirs, A Life With Labor, he explains, "But, for me, education without some salesmanship was not education.  In my book, that meant showmanship." His marketing savvy shone through all the educational programs he created. "Our educational activities in the widest sense," he stated, "should be looked upon from the point of view of the union's public relations - and sound public relations presuppose a sound union."   The benefit of "social education", as it was called, in a union was twofold: first, the union members presumably became better-rounded, educated and contributing citizens. Second, the union made the best possible contact with the non-union public. And in the mid-1930s in America, labor unions had PR problems, problems that were worsening by the day.

In Europe, Dubinsky had witnessed a quarter million people watching an Austrian trade-union pageant. Both the concept and the reception of the trade union-pageant were quite remarkable to Dubinsky; he wondered if he could do the same thing with the ILGWU.  He hired his friend Louis Schaffer to give it a shot, and under Schaffer's leadership, the Cultural Division of the Educational and Recreational Department soon held classes in drama, acting, dance and music.  Schaffer organized local dramatic groups and set up training programs for boys and girls "from the shops."  He also began selecting plays that would be appropriate for his newly formed "ILGWU Players".  In the book Tailor's Progress: The Story of a Famous Union and the Men Who Made It, Benjamin Stolberg describes Schaffer as:

A veteran newspaperman and labor editor with a long background in the socialist movement and in business.  He is the typical New Yorker - breezy, sophisticated and extremely likeable.  His sense of publicity is far more Broadway than "proletarian." He is a sort of link between the theatrical world and the New York labor movement.

A Broadway sense of publicity applied to another industry: what a fantastic idea.

In press releases, Schaffer stressed that his new group did not intend to pose as professionals, noting that no one performing in an ILGWU production was a trained actor, actress or musician; they all literally came from behind the sewing machines. Well played, Louis Schafer. If the ILGWU shows flopped or weren't deemed worthy by the press, Schaffer had an out - they're not "real" actors!  But if the press came and liked what they saw, it would be a David and Goliath sensation.

Schaffer realized that play production could be used to carry the labor movement's message outside the confines of the ILGWU. A play within a play, publicity-wise. After producing one unsuccessful serious drama (a play called Steel about, you guessed it, a steel workers strike) with the ILGWU, Schaffer recognized 1. the need to attract a wider audience, and 2. that the only way to do that would be to create a highly entertaining product.  Schaffer had the idea of creating an amateur labor revue that was funny and witty. This idea was in complete contrast to the solemn, far left-wing proletarian dramas so popular at the time. 

Enter Harold Rome, and cue another PR coup. Ironically, the man who wrote hundreds of political skits and songs managed to avoid all political questioning at the time.  When asked if he was a leftist in the December 25, 1937 issue of The New Yorker, Rome retorted, "It's not a question of being a Leftist...It's a question of keeping your eyes open."  (I would have wanted Harold Rome as a client, for those of you playing at home.) Perhaps it was his lack of political bias that allowed Rome to freely criticize both the radical left and right and everyone who wavered in between.  Unlike many of his contemporary proletarian dramatists and writers, Rome's only political agenda was satire, satire of everyone and everything in his contemporary society.

When Pins and Needles officially opened to the public on November 27, 1937, it was generally accepted as the second in an intended series of plays performed by the ILGWU Players.  Shockingly, it ran for nearly four years and was so successful that no other plays were ever produced by the ILGWU.  The show filled the Labor Stage until June 26, 1939, when it was moved to the much larger Windsor Theatre for a year's run on Broadway.  Pins and Needles was seen in three editions: Pins and Needles (original show), Pins and Needles 1939 (April 20, 1939 to November 20, 1939), and New Pins and Needles (November 30, 1939 to June 22, 1941).   When the last road show closed in 1941, the show had run 1,108 performances, making Pins and Needles the longest running musical to date. It is interesting to note that, with each new version the Pins and Needles content was revised so that the piece remained absolutely relevant. For example, the song "Four Little Angels of Peace" was originally sung by Eden, Mussolini, Hirohito, and Hitler, but in the 1938 version, Chamberlain replaces Eden in the scene. 

What did the press think of Pins and Needles?  Only a few critics attended the November 27th opening. Rome recalled, "First string critics went to important shows, and there were a lot of shows in those days.  Pins and Needles was not an important show at first.  We also played only on weekends at first, so it was hard for critics to come."  Slow as they were, the critics did come, and within a few weeks word-of-mouth praise and glowing reviews turned Pins and Needles into a hit. (The New York Times sent its second string critic to the opening of Pins and Needles; the November 29, 1937 review was written by a certain "J.G."  Top Times theatre critic Brooks Atkinson did not review the show until January 23, 1938, when it was already quite popular. How the times - and the Times, for that matter - do not change.)

By the end of the Pins and Needles run, the Labor Stage had made the ILGWU approximately  $1,500,000 in profits, all of which went back to the ILGWU's educational programs.  This was a tremendous amount of money, considering it was tax-free and in pre-inflation dollars - oh, and that the original production costs had been $10,000.  To guarantee that all possible profits went back to the ILGWU, no independent ticket brokers were allowed.  In his article, "A New Show Business" for Hollywood magazine (February 1, 1938), writer Sidney Skolsky details his attempts to purchase a ticket to see the show when he was in New York:

I phoned the correct people to ask for tickets.  They were polite, but very sorry that they didn't have any tickets. I asked them to buy me a couple from the ticket speculators.  They told me that the ticket brokers didn't have any.  I had heard that story before.  The ticket brokers always have them, no matter how big a hit the show is.  I contacted several ticket brokers. Not one of them had a ticket...and couldn't get them. I was greatly surprised.  "Where are the tickets?" I asked a broker.  He answered: The unions have all the tickets. It's a new kind of show business.