Photoplay (Jan - Jun 1922)

A Recamier of the Films Mary Alden is reminiscent of the famous French wit and socia o;enius By MARY WINSHIP OF Mary Alden — who has long stood out as one of the foremost character actresses in pictures, and who achieved a personal success as Mother in "The Old Nest" — devotees of pictures know very little, practically nothing save of her work. And yet as a person, as a hostess, and as a testimonial of the freedom of thought and action that women have attained in the past few years, she is equally interesting. She has always reminded me of the brilliant Madame Recamier, whose social genius, understanding, and powers of conversation welded together the wits and geniuses of Paris. I suppose every woman who has any social aspirations has desired to establish a salon. I've tried it myself. I started with Sunday night suppers where intellectual lights ate my food, drank my drinks, and quarreled about everything from home brew to automobiles and permanent waves. None of which is conducive to a salon. But Mary Alden has succeeded. She lives on the top floor of a big, old apartment house almost in the center of Los Angeles. Her mode of life is exactly my idea of how a woman who works hard should live. When she comes home from a day of intense emotional work at the studio, providing she is not going out. she goes to bed. She has a big divan bed in her own sitting room, and there, in a velvet dressing gown, surrounded by books, papers and writing materials, she has dinner served by Zabella — her priceless cook. Her cook, by the way, has been with her for eight years, and her maid for nine. While she eats, she reads. "You see," she explained, "in that way I am able to relax utterly. I can enjoy using my mind while my body and nerves are getting the rest and restoration they need. It saves me tons of energy and hours for study that I would otherwise have to devote to sleeping to keep up my vitality." Mary is an epicure of the highest order. Her dinner is a sacred matter, especially to Zabella. whether she is dining alone or is entertaining a few guests; and the best food I have ever eaten in my life, I have eaten at Mary Alden's. Last Sunday when I went about tea time I found her in a smart little Paris frock of black taffeta and white organdy — her taste in smart clothes and velvet lounging robes is distinctive— at the piano. And she plays well; considered even from a professional standard, she has strength and command of tone that is unusual. In her drawing room were gathered a group composed of a famous novelist and his wife, whose small book of poems created something of a sensation last year; a rising young politician; a famous composer and his wife, a singer of renown and beauty; a young girl who is becoming known for her photographic studies, exhibited in London and Paris; an art director — one of the best listeners I have ever known — and his wife; a magazine writer, and a Russian woman whom I understand belonged to the Czarina's household. I sat looking and enjoying as I always do, the artistry of the room, its richness and comfort, its personal warmth. Some good rugs. big. littered tables, several couches ovorrlowine with marvelous pillows, for which Man has a passion, soft lights, a picture or two. the grand piano. Incidentally the bookcases hold a very fine library: she is known as a collector to all book lovers and dealers, and owns several rare folios and first editions. And as I sat I thought of all the people who have found inspiration and help of all kinds in that room. Mary Alden "s favorite form of charity, as I know well, is to find some promising young artist, writer or musician who isn't setting alone. She will feed, clothe and take care of them generally, long enough to give them a start and a chance to show what they can do. 77