Showmen's Trade Review (Apr-Jun 1939)

Jiau .\ 1939 6TH ANNIVERSARY ISSUE Page 17 The Music Hall Has An Efficient Staff of Executives To maintain its unique posifion in fJie enferfainmeni' world, the Music Hall must have an efficient staff of executives. Outstanding among the members are (left to right) Fred A. Cruise, house manager: Hazel Flynn, director of publicity, and Gus S. Eyssell. secretary of the Radio City Music Hall Corporation. Add to these the sixteen or so other departmental heads and you begin to realize the amount of executive ability that is required to oversee the operation of the vforld's largest theatre. educated and ct)gnizant of the responsibilities that go with her position. Seldom, if ever, do disputes arise between tiiC patron and cashier; but if they do, the cashier is still courteous, and refers the matter to Mr. Clary for solution. The service staff is comprised of 106 usiiers, doormen and page boys. A Music Hall usiier is so trained and schooled that he can usually anticipate a patron's desire, request or question before the patron even addresses him. In the "prep" school underneath the great foyer, the ushers learn the answers to a thousand and one different questions. Here, the successful applicant undergoes two weeks of intensive instruction, with pay; here, he is taught ever} rudiment pertaining to service. To become a successful candidate and a student of the school, however, he must fulfill certain qualifications. First of all, he must be a clean-cut young American between the ages of 18 and 22. His attributes must consist of better-than-average intelligence, a good speaking voice and clear diction. Unless he is between five feet five and five feet eleven, the ideal height for ushers, he has no chance of becoming a member of the Music Hall service staff. For the position of doorman, the applicant must range from six feet to six feet three. Two Weeks of Instruction his outfit, including shoes, shirts, collars, ties, gloves, cuff links, studs and buttons are furnished him by the quartermaster, the Music Hall's special tailor. Before the house is opened, the morning detail marches up the Grand Staircase in ers launder them themselves — and well, too. Carefully inspected also are the doormen, whose shoes must be shined to a glossy black and who must wear plain black' socks. Younger than ushers, page boys are selected for their small size, intelligence and appearance. Wearing berets, they are used as messengers and as guides for distinguished visitors. Music Hall ushers have their own club room with a radio and comfortable lounge chairs and tasteful appointments including modern shower baths and washrooms. If a member wishes, he may take his lunch or dinner in the cafeteria beneath the auditorium. From the theatre's circulating library he may obtain his favorite book. He is entitled to free medical attention. On the rooftop, high above the noisy street, he keeps physically in shape by participating in such sports as handball, tennis, quoits, badminton and shuffleboard. Here, too, he participates in regular calisthenic drills. Routine Not a Strenuous One On first thought, you might think the routine of a Music Hall usher a strenuous one. Such, however, is not the case. True, he has many rules and regulations to which he must adhere; but once they are mastered, the usher's duties become services in which he exercises great pride and from which he derives pleasure. No man, when he fully realizes what is best for him, the theatre for which he works and the public which he serves, can ever feel that his is a tiresome and thankless routine. Thanks to the Music Hall sj'stem, the usher is one of a large family who work when they work, but play just as hard when off duty. Nor should it be inferred that being taught the principles of military training means that every usher stands with a ramrod in his back and his eyes coldl}' fixed in a seemingly perpetual stare. For a theatre so huge and palatial, of course, he must always maintain correct posture, and this is where his military training stands him in good stead. But the day of the stiff, rigid usher who frightened more people away from the theatre than into it has long since passed. The Music Hall's service staff is, individually and collectively, as human, courteous and obliging as any you'll find elsewhere. Reasoning properly and considerately, Mr. Van Schmus regards his ushers as "hosts in his absence." They are there to do their good turn for the public, not to inflate their own self-esteem. They greet thousands of patrons, even some of your own as well as those from other cities, towns and hamlets, with the same courtesy and appreciative gestures for their patronage as these people always received in the small, (Continued on page 68) When his application has been approved by Fred A. Cru ise, house manager, the prospective usher then enters his two weeks' of instruction under the guidance of a trained instructor. He must learn ("This way, please!") the approved way of showing a patron to his seat, the hand always pointing across the body. He must learn the usher's sign language — the crooked arm, closed hand on hip, indicates a "double" or two seats together ; the four fingers held upright indicate the number of "doubles." The usher at the head of the aisle on seeing this signal will send four couples to waiting seats. Bringing the hands sharply together until the fingers interlace signifies the direction to "close in," or "close the aisle," or "shut off the exit," or "block an entrance." Carefully studying a detailed floor plan of the huge theatre, the young recruit must learn the location by number of every one of the Music Hall's 6.200 seats. With his jacket off, he is taught the rudiments of simple military drill and learns to take simple military commands in the mirrored rehearsal hall. Along with other ushers, he goes on a guided tour of Rockefeller Center, for he must be able to answer not only questions concerning the theatre, but about the entire three-block development. In the theatre's own tailor shop, he is measured for one of the four uniforms which will be issued to him, afternoon and evening for summer and winter. The rest of military formation while the patrons line up at the box office outside. Lined up for inspection in the Grand Foyer, the ushers have their uniforms minutely inspected by an officer, either Mr. Cruise or one of his assistants, George Hannaford and J. E. McHale, and by Edward Jennings, Chief of Service. Hands extended, they show their gloves, which must be immaculate — the usli Crowds in Grand Foyer At Show's "Break" A "break" in the show enhances this view of the theatre's Grand Foyer. The crowds who have just seen a performance are coming out while a waiting line to the right begins to crowd the doorways to the auditorium to fill the seats just vacated. Members of the service staff are thoroughly trained in seating courteously and efficiently the theatre's large patronage.