Saturday, November 21, 2009

Red Levine Redux



I haven't posted in a little while as I've been busy with a variety of freelance assignments and, well, life - but I thought I would share a recent "reworking" of a portrait of Samuel 'Red' Levine.

I posted about Red Levine quite awhile ago and currently don't have much more to add as far biographical updates. However, for those who have followed this project with a keen eye may of noticed the artwork has gone through some changes over the course of time. Nothing too substantial or radical mind you, but the line work has become more delicate and the painting process coming forward more so than in the past. My original attempt at this kosher killer was done quite earlier on when I started this series, where line work was bolder and the watercolor almost as a secondary thought.
With the amount of portraits that have been accomplished since then, the self- critical side of me wanted to give Red another go. I was also fortunate to locate a reference photo which has not been circulated or appeared in any known publications to make this new interpretation all that fresher, plus he seems to have a grumpy disposition in this one that just adds to it all....

Friday, October 23, 2009

The Demise of DUTCH SCHULTZ

Seventy- four years ago today, Dutch Schultz, neé under the very unthreatening name of Arthur Flegenheimer, was shot down at at The Palace Chop House in Newark, New Jersey a couple of months after his thirty-third birthday.

Schultz still remains one of gangland's most infamous figures in the general public mind.
Bronx born in 1902 to German-Jewish parents, he
remains one of the more undesirable characters in the dark, sometimes blemished legacy left by some of the Jewish crime bosses.

Dutch Shultz’s character traits were nefarious at best, despised yet respected by most of the underworld, and considering the bevy of bad apples that lurked in that netherworld, it was a notable achievement. While the Manhattan syndicate, headed and organized by Charles Luciano, Meyer Lansky, Ben Seigel, Joe Adonis and Louis Lepke Buchalter ran their business like boardroom shareholders; Shultz remained an outsider partly by choice. His position and power as a Bronx bootlegger and a highly lucrative numbers racket in Harlem gave him leverage with the higher ups and he knew it. Shultz was smart enough early on cutting them in on the Harlem slot machines and lotteries as a way of paying tribute.
He only had one rule. “I don’t make money off women or narcotics.”

Still something wasn’t quite right with Arthur Flegenheimer. He lacked the dignity and grace that the new mob bosses were trying to instill after tutelage from the late and powerfully influential Arnold Rothstein. Schultz was a overly paranoid and narcissistic jitterbug at the best of times. Despite his growing wealth he still dressed in cheap twenty-dollar suits and two-dollar shirts as he believed clothes were not worth spending money on. His crew was a ragtag of associates of mostly Bronx bred Jews like himself, non of whom he really trusted except for maybe his numbers man, George Weinberg. He was also quick tempered and complex, running his mouth without impunity of repercussion more times than the downtown boys cared for, but they couldn’t deny his impact and the money that he brought in and he was quietly tolerated. Headstrong and careless, Schultz ran into trouble on numerous occasions with the syndicate in its burgeoning years. He also never shied away from conducting personal violence himself when needed and didn't quite seem to grasp the notion of the boss behind closed doors. His renegade ways harkened back to the wilder days of New York gangland than to the current new order proposed by Luciano and Lansky.

In 1932, Vincent ‘Mad Dog’ Coll, a notorious underworld figure in his own right, was also a former partner of Shultz’s who started hijacking the Dutchman’s beer trucks after the two had a major disagreement about profit sharing. A street war ensued and reached its apex when Shultz lured Coll into trap, sending his number one enforcer Abe ‘Bo’ Weinberg, sibling to George, to rid of the Mad Dog problem for good. Weinberg, who was possibly accompanied by other gunmen, cornered Coll in a drug store telephone booth while he was making a call. Trapped in the cubicle of glass and wood with no means of escape, Coll faced the hail of bullets and so went his demise. Dutch was apparently was nearby to ensure the hit was a success, shook off the incident and claimed, "Just another punk with his hands in my pockets."

Shultz was gathering more heat as well as more newspaper ink as his empire expanded, ignoring Lansky’s rule to stay out of the press. Schultz however seemed to revel in the media attention, feeding his power hungry persona, but it was all catching up with him as he caught the attention of Federal officials. In wake of the highly ballyhooed lock up of Al Capone, law officials were now realizing that tax evasion was a substantial, surefire measure of getting mobsters into a court room without any violence or chase. A simple subpoena proved to carry more weight than a handful of .38 calibers and a carload of G-men. Schultz was finally charged with income tax fraud, and the trial was cunningly moved to the small town of Malone in upstate New York at the request of Schultz’s lawyers to avoid character profiling by a New York City based jury. While awaiting trial, he hired a public relations firm to spread his money and give to charities, all throughout Malone, glad handing and baby kissing like a politician on a crooked campaign trail. He built up his profile as a government scapegoat, a family man just trying to make an honest living and the big city huckster charmed his way into the hearts of small town America. The scheme worked. The hayseeds were hoodwinked and the Dutchman was acquitted of all charges. However, more legal troubles awaited him back in New York. Special Prosecutor Thomas Dewey was appointed to break up the rackets by Fiorello LaGuardia, the diminutive Jewish –Italian Mayor whose heart beat to the pulsing rhythm of mid – 1930s New York through a nine year tenure. His inaugural year included a gang-busting crusade with the Dutchman as his first priority, declaring him the city’s top public enemy on radio and to the press. The syndicate shuddered at all of the sudden attention.

During Shultz's time away in Malone, Bo Weinberg had been secretly making arrangements with Lucky Luciano and others to have Schultz's empire taken over, betting that Dutch would be found guilty and never come back. His philanthropist payouts and mounting legal expenses were draining all profits and Weinberg though best that the entire operation should be handed over to a more even-tempered board of directors. Returning to New York, Shultz soon realized he was outnumbered and overpowered by the syndicate, who had given him ample warning to stay out of the press, which he had failed to do and was now faced with a collected cold shoulder from the mob. Feeling betrayed by associates and squeezed out of his Harlem policy games and restaurant rackets, now in the hands of Luciano, Schultz mentally fidgeted about his next move.

With Thomas Dewey still on his tail, Schultz went across the river to Newark, New Jersey to get out of jurisdiction, lick his wounds and plan his comeback. But revenge burned brighter and his first order of business was specifically Bo Weinberg. Lured by the possible prospect of reconciliation with his former boss, Weinberg agreed to a meet. The most common story, though clichéd and cinematic, was that he was taken for a boat ride on the Hudson and fitted with cement shoes. Shultz apparently broke the news to Abe’s brother George, explaining in colorful underworld hyperbole:
“ Sorry George, we had to fit Abe with a cement kimono.”
Abraham Weinberg’s murder was never solved nor was his body ever found.

Thomas Dewey continued his pressure tactics, proving to be the proverbial hair up Schultz’s ass. Shultz reached a point of breakdown and vowed to have Dewey assassinated, pleading with Luciano and co. to support him in this endeavor. For a brief while the hit was even considered as men staked out Dewey’s daily routines and try to determine the possibility of that deadly scenario. In the end, the Italians, along with Meyer Lansky and Ben Siegel, said it would be bad for business. Lepke Buchalter and Jacob ‘Gurrah’ Shapiro were a little more cold blooded in their opinion but were out-voted. Decidedly, Dewey was too high profile political a figure, and the heat would prove to be too much. Schultz, frothed at the mouth and became incensed, walked out and said he would do it himself, thereby sealing his fate.

On October 23, 1935, Shultz was in the Palace Chop House in Newark, with the only loyal remaining associates Bernard ‘Lulu’ Rosenrantz, Abe Laundau, and Otto Berman at his side. Shultz had been at the Chop House’s backroom every night for the last three weeks, using it as his temporary meeting place, unaware that he was being watched. New Jersey boss Abner ‘Longy’ Zwillman got word of Schultz’s locale to the boys across the river. At around 10PM, the hulking figure of Charles 'The Bug' Workman walked into the back room, guns blazing, while Emanuel 'Mendy' Weiss watched the front door and a driver only known as Piggy waited outside in the getaway car. Schultz’s co-horts were shot down, but the Dutchman, who went to relieve himself minutes before and wasn’t present to witness the initial carnage . Workman stormed into the mens room, catching Shultz in rather unflattering and compromising position and shot him.

Schultz was rushed to the Newark City hospital, where he lay dying and raving for a couple of days, slipping in and out of a coma while police tried to question him about his killers. Strangely enough he asked for a priest for his last rites instead of a rabbi. Two women showed up, each claiming to be his wife. Only one, Frances Flegenheimer, actually was.

Schultz began rambling incomprehensible confessional monologues, all of which were transcribed by stenographers who were by his deathbed in rotations day and night and and filled numerous pages of what seemed art first like underworld babble. Investigators tried to find out who shot him through various question periods but with infection setting in and being in a highly fevered state, most of his responses left detectives baffled.

Dutch Schultz’s deathbed ramblings have become the subject of many curious literary scholars ever since, scrutinized for possible hidden meaning and even seen by some as an untended precursor to the Beat literature movement fifteen years later. Disjointed and at times poetic, they are a curious last exit of words from man not exactly known for any scholarly attributes but someone possibly facing his demons at death’s door.

His final rant lasted a couple of hours, ending with:

"…Look out! Mamma, mamma! Look out for her. You can't beat him. Police, Mamma! Helen, Mother, please take me out. Come on, Rosie. O.K. Hymes would do it, not him. I will settle...the indictment. Come on, Max, open the soap duckets. Frankie, please come here. Open that door, Dumpey's door. It is so much, Abe, that...with the brewery. Come on. Hey, Jimmy! The Chimney Sweeps. Talk to the Sword. Shut up, you gotta a big mouth! Please help me up, Henny. Max come over here...French Canadian bean soup...I want to pay, let them leave me alone..."

Shultz then fell into a coma, and passed away quietly two hours later.

Sunday, October 11, 2009

Meyer 'Buggsy' Goldstein before and after...


Every so often I like to give a little 'behind the scenes' as to how some of the artwork is approached and how it arrives to its final stroke, as I did here awhile back.
Most artists don't really like to completely reveal their process in order to maintain a little artistic secrecy and keep a little magic in the mix, and rightly so. However, to change things up a little from a regular biographical post - I thought I'd reveal a before and after on this one...

The subject here who has gone from black outlines to final colors is Meyer 'Buggsy' Goldstein, close childhood pal of Abe 'Kid Twist' Reles and a cog in the machine that was Murder Inc.

Goldstein was the lesser know 'Buggsy' in Jewish gangland, obviously overshadowed by the more infamous Seigel; perhaps with the addition of another g to his moniker he hoped to set himself apart from his Manhattan counterpart, but it was rather unlikely anyone would mix up the two hoodlums as Seigel was mob royalty and Goldstein court jester. Born in 1905, he was an original founder of the Brownsville troop and shared second in command duties with Harry 'Pep' Strauss under Abe Reles. He kept close ties to the neighboring Ocean Hill mob led by Louis Capone, to whom Goldstein had originally suggested they reach out to when they were looking at expanding their underworld operations across Brooklyn, and allied themselves with the Italians when they decided to put the Shapiro brothers, Brownsville's original enfants terribles, out of commission for good and share the rewards.

Goldstein was kidded on numerous occasions that actor Edward G Robinson based his on screen gangster persona on the real life Buggsy from Brooklyn. The physical features and stature similarities aside, he also had the same quick quip way of talking and moved along in a duck like walk wrapped in the same tough-guy attitude that Robinson portrayed on screen. Goldstein it seemed started to believe the talk as well - boasting to strangers and family alike that Robinson patterned himself on Meyer from Pitkin street. The probable reality however was when Robinson's (neé Emanuel Goldenberg) star had started to rise in the early 1930s, Goldstein's street success was moving along the same, though vastly different trajectory. The backlots of Warner Bros. studios were along way away from Midnight Roses candy store at the corner of Livonia and Saratoga, and chances are Robinson never popped in for an egg cream and discovered his gangster muse sitting in a corner.

While Robinison's career continued on for many years, Goldstein's star was snuffed out by June of 1941 when he went to the electric chair for the murder of Irving 'Puggy' Feinstein following damning testimonies from former associates Seymour 'Blue Jaw' Magoon and Abe Reles.

Wednesday, October 7, 2009

I have been away / out of town taking care of other responsibilities outside of gangsterland for a bit...but a new post is on its way soon...

Thursday, September 10, 2009

Not so Lil' Abner


Here is the latest artwork which has rolled off my drawing table.

At the Real Machers exhibit earlier this year, many had pointed out that Abner 'Longy' Zwillman was missing from the rogues gallery, a fact that I had pre- acknowledged but wasn't able to complete in time for the exhibit opening.







Born in 1899, 'Longy' Zwillman earned his sobriquet rather easily, as the Newark native and eventual boss of New Jersey sprouted to the height of 6' 2 by the time he was pushing pushcarts at the age of sixteen. Like his Manhattan counterpart Meyer Lansky, Zwillman built his empire on smarts more than muscle while managing to stay out of the spotlight for a good part of his career. The foundation of his fortune was built on the early successes of winning the bootlegging wars of the Garden State as well as constructing a significant gambling empire during the 1920's. Zwillman was also a member of what was to be known as 'The Big Six' during the 1930s, comprised of Meyer Lansky, Benjamin Siegel, Charles 'Lucky' Luciano, Frank Costello and Joe Adonis. His influence over the underworld rumblings of Newark led to tipping the Manhattan syndicate on the location of Dutch Shultz which ended in a hail bullets at the Palace Chop House in October of 1935.
Zwillman rolled big for a good part of his life, with a handful of influential politicians and policemen in his pockets. New Jersey has had long history of political corruption to this day, and its genesis may be attributed to this lanky Jewish crime boss. He was also instrumental in organizing the infamous 1929 Atlantic City summit, a who's who of national top ranking crime bosses and regarded by many as the birth of American organized crime.

Zwillman's career was a colorful one; a life that included ties to the burgeoning career of Jean Harlow, a reward offer in the Charles Lindbergh baby case, and also as a renowned philanthropist when it came to matters of his beloved Newark with a long list of charity donations in his name.

The Estes Kefuaver hearings in the early 1950s were hard times for top guns like Frank Costello and eventually exposed Zwillman's checkered past, and his legitimate facade soon crumbled in the following years.
The IRS proved once again mightier with its pencil pushers than a handful of G-men could achieve as Zwillman fought off tax evasion charges. His trial ended in a hung jury, but the trial would return to haunt him. Through wire taps and an unnamed informant, evidence came to light that a jury member was bribed to lean in Longy's direction and deadlock the verdict. The FBI prepared a new case against Zwillman with J. Edgar Hoover's personal blessing to forge ahead, but they would never get their man. By January 1959 Zwillman became increasingly withdrawn and depressed due to pending indictments that he knew he could possibly not squirm his way out of. On the morning of February 27, his wife Mary found him hung in the basement of their West Orange mansion, her departed husband still in his striped robe and silk pajamas as a half empty bottle of bourbon sat nearby. Though ruled as suicide, much has been whispered that Zwillman may of perhaps been been murdered under mob orders who suspected Zwillman may of tried to work out a deal in exchange for exoneration of his charges as to not face the remainder of his life behind bars just as he was turning sixty years old.

As a side note : I would like to encourage more comments from everyone! Sometimes it feels a little like I'm working in a vacuum here (though I know you're out there) so feel free drop in with some thoughts or just to say hello! Thanks.

Thursday, August 20, 2009

The Real Inglourious Basterds....


" My friends and I saw some good action against the Brown Shirts around New York. I got my buddies like Bugsy Siegel – before he went to California – and some other young guys. We taught them how to use their fists and handle themselves in fights, and we didn’t behave like gents.” - Meyer Lansky



Quentin Tarantino’s new film, Inglourious Basterds, is being marketed and publicized by some as a ‘Jewish revenge fantasy’ film – a ‘what if we could turn back time’ scenario where an elite squad American Jewish soldiers kick a whole lot of Nazi ass. Why this squad requires a gentile leader is still remains an open question... and I have yet to see the film so I will reserve judgment. Critics seem divided on the film (you can read an interesting New Yorker review here) and as like most of Tarantino’s films, they rarely garner reactions of polite fence sitting. Tarantino seems to relish in the idea of being Hollywood's enfant terrible regardless of some of the public's reaction to his body of work so far.

While the tale of Inglourious Basterds is obviously fictional – the idea of Jewish tough guys fighting Nazi oppression is far from fictitious. Not only did the brave souls of the Warsaw Ghetto uprising and the forest dwelling partisan groups take action, National Socialist ass kicking was also happening on the streets of New York as well.

Meyer Lansky’s family had come to America from Grodno, Russia in 1911, and they like many Jews who fled the pogroms, were no strangers to anti-Semitism. While the new world lauded its fair own share of bigotry towards the great numbers of migrating newcomers that landed on US shores during the opening decades of the twentieth-century – the threat was rarely beyond verbal and obtrusive. The slow climb on the social ladder to a prosperous and more importantly, free life was still within their grasp. By the early 1930s however, as a larger threat loomed across the ocean, it became slowly evident that the same persecutions Jews had fled from, were once again on the rise in their new world.

In 1933, when Adolf Hitler was made Chancellor of Germany, a Nazi presence was growing in Uncle Sam’s backyard as well. Hitler had hypnotized a nation with devilish oratorical skills and his influence had also reached North American shores, giving birth to America’s own storm troopers, branding itself the German – American Bund.

The Bund was built out of former German-American societies who pined for the motherland though still relished and reaped from America’s rewards. Originally backed with Nazi – funding, over ninety-three local chapters sprouted across the country with membership estimated at 100,000 or more. By the mid 1930s, while Hitler built autobahns and edged Germany towards re-armament, the American Bund published four weekly German newspapers, started German language schools and even opened twenty-two Hitler Youth camps.

Fritz Kuhn, who was a former employee of non other than Henry Ford (head of the Ford Motor Company and America’s predominant anti- Semite) led the New York chapter of the Bund up until 1936, after which he was put in charge of the entire American division.

Kuhn was ambitious; campaigning on behalf of Republican presidential candidate Alfred Landon, backed senators and members of Congress and did radio interviews alongside Dr. Ignatz Griebel, leader of the ‘Friends of New Germany’ movement who was eventually uncovered as a Nazi spy. Kuhn peaked in late 1937 by rallying over 1,150 Bund members decked out in brown shirt uniforms doing the Hitler stomp inside the walls of the old Madison Square Garden at 50th Street and 8th Avenue.

These were indeed scary times.

Not long after the Madison Square Garden rally, the Jewish community in New York, clearly unsettled by such activity, reached out to Meyer Lansky. These were not factory owners or the corner grocer looking for protection, but prominent members of Jewish society. Rabbi Stephen Wise, who led the Federation Of American Zionists, approached Lansky to ‘do something’ about the rising trouble. So did New York State Judge Nathan Perlman.

“Nazism is flourishing in the United States.” Perlman told Lansky,

“We Jews should be more militant. Meyer, we want action taken against Nazi sympathizers. We will put money and legal assistance at your disposal, whatever you need. Can you organize the militant part for us?”

Though Meyer Lansky stood only five feet – four inches, what dangled between his legs were bigger and bolder than men twice his size. Lansky was delighted by the request to crack a few Nazi skulls and he responded to the request with Jewish and American pride:

“I’ll fight these Nazis with my own resources. I don’t need your cash. But I will ask you one thing, that after we go into action you’ll try and make sure the Jewish press don’t criticize me.”

The object was to break up Bund rallies but Pearlman and Wise stressed there was to be no killing, which undoubtedly disappointed Meyer’s merry band of misfits. There were provided with addresses of leading Bund members as well as locations for secret meetings. One particular night Lansky, with a beaming Bugsy Siegel at his side and backed by other Jewish gangsters arrived at a location in Yorkville, the center of the German community in Manhattan, to breakup a rally that was underway. Lansky described the incident:

“We got there that evening and found several hundred people dressed in brown shirts. The stage was decorated with a swastika and pictures of Hitler. The speaker started ranting. There were only about fifteen of us, but we went into action.

We attacked them in the hall and threw some of them out the windows. There were fistfights all over the place. Most of the Nazis panicked and ran out. We chased them and beat them up, and some of them were out of action for months. Yes, it was violence. We wanted to teach them a lesson. We wanted to show them that Jews would not always sit back and accept insults.”

Rabbi Wise and Judge Perlman were ecstatic with Lansky’s results, as was noted radio personality Walter Winchell, whose anti-Hitler crusades were well known on the airwaves and boasted of Lansky’s achievements. Winchell also had a reporter's ear to the ground and would provide Lansky with numerous addresses of scheduled Bund meetings. Little Meyer was energized and led campaigns throughout New York and New Jersey, bumping as many Bund heads as he could. Lanky’s results also influenced other Jewish toughs to follow his lead.

Max Hinkes was a member of Abner ‘LongyZwillman’s inner circle who joined a Newark based Jewish resistance group known as the ‘Minutemen’. Hinkes recalled a particular Bund meeting breakup at Schwabben Hall on Springfield Avenue in Newark:

“The Nazi scumbags were meeting one night on the second floor. Nat Arno (the Minutemen’s leader) and I went upstairs and threw stink bombs into the room where the creeps were. As they came out of the room, running from the horrible odor of the stink bombs and running down the steps in to the street to escape, our boys were waiting with bats and iron bars. It was like running a gauntlet. Our boys were lined up on both sides and we started hitting, aiming for their heads or any other part of their bodies, with our bats and iron bars. The Nazis were screaming bloody murder. This was one of the most happy moments of my life.”

While secretly pleased with the end results, Lansky’s benefactors did not keep their end of the bargain. The violence answered with violence did not please the city’s biggest Yiddish newspaper, the Morgen Journal, condemning his actions and labeling him as a Jewish gangster, and other Jewish newspapers followed suit. Rabbi Wise and Judge Pearlman had inadvertently exposed Lansky and left him to battle off the predatory press.
Lanksy had always avoided exposure in the press (at the advice of
Arnold Rothstien) and managed to keep a legitimate front as a prosperous businessman up until this point. This sudden public interest and being pegged as a gangster unsettled him as it did Rabbi Wise, who asked him to stop his anti-Nazi activities as public moral rumblings were getting too delicate to handle.

Lansky was reluctant but agreed, however he remained committed to the cause and his patriotism got a chance to shine a couple of years later, when he brokered deal between US Naval Intelligence and the jailed Charles ‘Lucky’ Luciano to protect Manhattan’s harbor front from Germany’s infamous wolf pack of prowling U-boats.

Friday, August 7, 2009

Tales At the Tenement Museum


Those with an interest in tales and anecdotes of New York's notorious gangland history of the early Twentieth Century descended upon The Lower East Side Tenement Museum this past Monday, August 3, to listen to writers Rose Keefe and Pat Downey who gave informative presentations on the subject and hosted the evening.
This is the second time this year the Museum has hosted an evening dealing with themes of social historical perspectives on crime and gangsterdom - something they seem to have shied away from in the past.




The evening also included a performance from Franklin Abrams (of Monk 1903 fame) with a couple actors who brought the past to life - renacting a scene featuring Abrams as Max 'Kid Twist' Zweifach - some of Zweifach's actual descendents were in attendence as well.




Partners in crime:
Rose Keefe (left) is busy working on a couple of books at the moment - a biography on Monk Eastman (which will also encompass the short life of Max Zweifach) and is also digging into the life story of Benjamin 'Dopey' Fein.

Pat Downey is tapping the keyboard on the life of Legs Diamond, whose colorful underworld exploits intertwined on numerous occasions with Jewish gang bosses like Jacob 'Little Augie' Orgen and Arnold Rothstein among others.
They are pictured here with author Allana Atterbury, who herself is working on new book about Dutch Schultz.

Thanks to Franklin Abrams for sending along these photos as I was personally unable to attend the evening.