George Abbott

George Francis Abbott was born in Forestville, New York on 25th June, 1887. When he was eleven years old his family moved to Cheyenne, Wyoming, where he attended Kearney Military Academy. A close friend, Jack Baragwanath, has argued: "George Abbott had been born of good New England stock in upstate New York. The family was poor, largely because his father often preferred hard liquor to hard work."

In 1911 he graduated from the University of Rochester. He then moved to Harvard University, where he studied playwriting under George Pierce Baker. After leaving university he worked as assistant stage manager at the Bijou Theatre in Boston.

In 1914 he married Edna Lewis, his French teacher at high school." At this time he began an acting career on Broadway. This included The Misleading Lady (November, 1914 - May, 1915), The Yeomen of the Guard (April, 1915 - May, 1915), Gertrude Kingston and a Visiting Company (November, 1916 - December, 1916), Daddies (September, 1918 - June, 1919), The Broken Wing (November, 1920 - April 1921), Zander the Great (April, 1923 - June, 1923), Lazybones (September, 1924 - November, 1924) and Processional (January, 1925 - March, 1925).

Abbott then turned to writing plays. The Fall Guy opened on 10th March 1925 and was performed 95 times before being taken off. His first successful play was Broadway. It opened at the Broadhurst Theatre on 16th September, 1926. Written and directed by Abbott it was a great hit and had 603 performances before coming to an end on 11th February, 1928. This was followed by other successes such as Four Walls (September, 1927 - January, 1928) and Coquette (November, 1927 - September, 1928).

Abbott sometimes took lunch with a group of writers, actors and artists, in the dining room at the Algonquin Hotel in New York City. Murdock Pemberton later recalled that he owner of the hotel, Frank Case, did what he could to encourage this gathering: "From then on we met there nearly every day, sitting in the south-west corner of the room. If more than four or six came, tables could be slid along to take care of the newcomers. we sat in that corner for a good many months... Frank Case, always astute, moved us over to a round table in the middle of the room and supplied free hors d'oeuvre. That, I might add, was no means cement for the gathering at any time... The table grew mainly because we then had common interests. We were all of the theatre or allied trades." Case admitted that he moved them to a central spot at a round table in the Rose Room, so others could watch them enjoy each other's company.

This group eventually became known as the Algonquin Round Table. Other regulars at these lunches included Robert E. Sherwood, Dorothy Parker, Robert Benchley, Alexander Woollcott, Heywood Broun, Harold Ross, Donald Ogden Stewart, Neysa McMein, Edna Ferber, Ruth Hale, Franklin Pierce Adams, Jane Grant, Alice Duer Miller, Charles MacArthur, Marc Connelly, George S. Kaufman, Beatrice Kaufman , Frank Crowninshield, Ben Hecht, John Peter Toohey, Lynn Fontanne, Alfred Lunt and Ina Claire.

Abbott, like other members of the group, used to spend a lot of time at the sudio of the artist, Neysa McMein. As the playwright, Marc Connelly, pointed out: "The world in which we moved was small, but it was churning with a dynamic group of young people who included Robert C. Benchley, Robert S. Sherwood, Ring Lardner, Dorothy Parker, Franklin. P. Adams, Heywood, Broun, Edna Ferber, Alice Duer Miller, Harold Ross, Jane Grant, Frank Sullivan, and Alexander Woollcott. We were together constantly. One of the habitual meeting places was the large studio of New York's preeminent magazine illustrator, Marjorie Moran McMein, of Muncie, Indiana. On the advice of a nurnerologist, she concocted a new first name when she became a student at the Chicago Art Institute. Neysa McMein. Neysa's studio on the northeast corner of Sixth Avenue and Fifty-seventh Street was crowded all day by friends who played games and chatted with their startlingly beautiful young hostess as one pretty girl model after another posed for the pastel head drawings that would soon delight the eyes of America on the covers of such periodicals as the Ladies' Home Journal, Cosmopolitan, The American and The Saturday Evening Post."

Brian Gallagher, the author of Anything Goes: The Jazz Age of Neysa McMein and her Extravagant Circle of Friends (1987): "No small incentive to the men invited to Neysa's studio before the afternoon rush was the possibility of seeing a pretty woman posing in the nude for the artist. George Abbott once arrived early for a luncheon date and found a robust model calmly posing nude as Neysa calmly drew her. George, delighted by his immersion in artistic bohemia, kept sneaking glances at the model as he let his supposedly disinterested glance wander round the studio and out the window. At lunchtime, the model put on her smock, Neysa took off hers, and the three sat to their repast, with George marveling at the nonchalance of it all. Later, seeing the artistic result of the session, he would wonder how Neysa had turned this short-legged, curvaceous model into yet another of her lithe, tallish pretty girls. Neysa, who was too much aware of the power and draw of sexuality to be oblivious to its effects, must have taken some sly delight in such teasing visits, in playing so overtly on male pretenses toward sophisticated sexual attitudes, at least with those of her men friends who, like Abbott, were so strongly, so physically attracted to women."

Abbott had developed a reputation as a puritan who did not drink alcohol or have affairs with women. This changed after the early death of his wife, Edna Abbott in 1930. It was the beginning of a series of relationships with some of the most beautiful stage and screen actresses. According to her biographer, Neysa McMein was the most important woman in his life during this period. Her husband, Jack Baragwanath, accepted the situation: ""Neysa had made it quite clear at the beginning of our marriage that she intended to go out with other men from time to time, explaining quite logically that during the years when she was climbing up the ladder she had made many friendships which she had no intention of breaking. And she hoped I would behave in an adult way about the proposed arrangement, particularly as most of these old friends were interested in artistic matters, which would not be particularly fascinating to me. The application of this theory shocked a good many people, quite a few of whom were having trouble at home, but it worked. The relationship, handled with skill and fairness on both sides, may have been the reason that our marriage was so successful. Ours was as much a deep friendship as a marriage."

In 1929 Abbott stayed with the couple at their house in in Sands Point on the North Shore of Long Island. Baragwanath explained in his autobiography, A Good Time was Had (1962): "She (Neysa) told me his name was George Abbott, that he was, or had been, an actor. She asked if I would mind her inviting him to the country for a weekend, and I agreed without much enthusiasm. George came to our house, and in fact stayed there for thirteen summers! Once I had penetrated his barrier of reserve, I began to like him very much. He was at our house so frequently that people began to wonder if he was Neysa's beau. All this talk died out, eventually, and he was simply accepted as part of our entourage. Later, he made some sort of deal with Neysa under which he might have a room of his own and consider himself a member of the family. I'm sure he paid his share of the expenses, but I never knew the details of the arrangement."

Abbott and Baragwanath became close friends and used to hold something they called "Freedom Week" at Sands Point. This was a week every summer where Neysa agreed to be absent. Jack and his friend, George Abbott , entertained a group of women each night. These groups were loosely organized and recruited by theme: there was Models' Night, Actresses' Night, Salesladies' Night, Chorus Girls' Night and Neurotic Women's Night. One of the most popular visitors was Maria McFeeters, who later obtained Hollywood fame as Maria Montez.

Abbott also wrote screenplays. This included All Quiet on the Western Front (1930), Secrets of a Secretary (1931), Those We Love (1932), Lilly Turner (1933), Heat Lightning (1934), Straight is the Way (1934), Three Men on a Horse (1936), On Your Toes (1939), The Boys from Syracuse (1940), Highway West (1941) and Broadway (1942).

During the Second World War Abbott became involved with the actress Mary Sinclair. His friend, Jack Baragwanath, pointed out: "George Abbott... began to take an unexpected interest in planting flowers and shrubs, and in fact resurrected an abandoned garden of ours where he put in vegetables. Almost every week end he had a guest out from New York, a beautiful brunette named Mary, who faithfully followed him around with trowel and shears giving him comfort and advice. Neysa and I thought little about her, for George had had many crushes before.... At the end of summer George disappeared for several weeks, and we finally got a wire from him telling us that Mary and he were married. The news was happy, of course, but carried a barb for Neysa because she loved the Sands Point place and realized that this would now be our last summer there."

Abbott divorced Sinclair in 1951. He continued directing plays on Broadway including A Tree Grows in Brooklyn (1951), In Any Language (1952), Wonderful Town (1953), The Pajama Game (1954), Damn Yankees (1955), New Girl in Town (1957), Drink to Me Only (1958), Fiorello! (1959), Tenderloin (1960), Take Her, She's Mine (1961) and A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum (1962). In 1963 he published his autobiography, Mister Abbott.

In 1968 Abbott began a long-term relationship with the actress Maureen Stapleton. She was 43 and he was 81. Ten years later he left her for a younger woman. At the age of 96 he married his third wife, Joy Valderrama.

George Francis Abbott, died of a stroke in Miami Beach, on 31st January, 1995. He was 107 years old and was working on a revival of Damn Yankees at the time.

Primary Sources

(1) Brian Gallagher, Anything Goes: The Jazz Age of Neysa McMein and her Extravagant Circle of Friends (1987)

No small incentive to the men invited to Neysa's studio before the afternoon rush was the possibility of seeing a pretty woman posing in the nude for the artist. George Abbott once arrived early for a luncheon date and found a robust model calmly posing nude as Neysa calmly drew her. George, delighted by his immersion in artistic bohemia, kept sneaking glances at the model as he let his supposedly disinterested glance wander round the studio and out the window. At lunchtime, the model put on her smock, Neysa took off hers, and the three sat to their repast, with George marveling at the nonchalance of it all. Later, seeing the artistic result of the session, he would wonder how Neysa had turned this short-legged, curvaceous model into yet another of her lithe, tallish pretty girls. Neysa, who was too much aware of the power and draw of sexuality to be oblivious to its effects, must have taken some sly delight in such teasing visits, in playing so overtly on male pretenses toward sophisticated sexual attitudes, at least with those of her men friends who, like Abbott, were so strongly, so physically attracted to women.

(2) Jack Baragwanath, A Good Time was Had ( 1962)

After Neysa and I had moved into our new summer place in 1929, we went one evening to a party at the Coffee House in New York. There I noticed Neysa talking in an animated fashion with a tall, blond man whom I'd never seen before, and on the way home I asked Neysa about her new acquisition. She told me his name was George Abbott, that he was, or had been, an actor. She asked if I would mind her inviting him to the country for a weekend, and I agreed without much enthusiasm.

George came to our house, and in fact stayed there for thirteen summers! Once I had penetrated his barrier of reserve, I began to like him very much. He was at our house so frequently that people began to wonder if he was Neysa's beau. All this talk died out, eventually, and he was simply accepted as part of our entourage. Later, he made some sort of deal with Neysa under which he might have a room of his own and consider himself a member of the family. I'm sure he paid his share of the expenses, but I never knew the details of the arrangement.

Anyway, he proved to be a great asset. He was good at all sorts of games, from tennis, golf, croquet, and badminton to chess. But he would not play cards, and he never drank. In this last peculiarity we found a valuable asset, since he could be depended upon to drive us home safely from parties. At first, he couldn't be induced to go to dinner parties at any of the big Long Island houses, and I never quite knew why. Either he had some queer sense of insecurity or perhaps he felt that the possession of wealth was in itself fundamentally wrong and that the people who enjoyed it were therefore somewhat tainted. Neysa gradually worked on him, so that after a couple of years he began to emerge from this shell. Once, coming home from a party, he said to me, as if he had just discovered the law of Gay-Lussac and Charles, "You know, Jack, rich people are just like poor people, except that they have better food."

George Abbott had been born of good New England stock in upstate New York. The family was poor, largely because his father often preferred hard liquor to hard work. By working summers in the steel mills, George put himself through Rochester University and saved enough money to take a course in drama at Harvard. He started his post-Harvard career as an actor, and he was good. He then tried his hand, successfully, at playwriting and rewriting and "doctoring" the plays of others. Then he became a full-fledged producer, too well-known now to require any further comment. The man who then seemed instinctively to distrust the rich is now a millionaire.

(3) Brian Gallagher, Anything Goes: The Jazz Age of Neysa McMein and her Extravagant Circle of Friends (1987)

With Jack barely excepted, the most important man in Neysa's Sands Point life was George Abbott. When George met, and was enchanted by, Neysa in 1929, he had just embarked on a second life that would, among other things, make him one of the most important personages in the history of the American theater. In 1910, shortly after graduating from the University of Rochester, he had married his high school sweetheart, Ednah, the sole twist in this traditional mating ritual being that his wife was not his classmate but his French teacher. Their life together was staid and regular, for the older Edna had a "Puritan streak" which strongly conditioned their marriage and which brought out George's own Puritanism, the residue of a tense, narrow family life in a small town in upstate New York and, for a period, in the still largely uncivilized and demanding reaches of Wyoming, where the family had decamped in an attempt to reclaim his father from his alcoholic ways and give them a chance for a new beginning. From 1913 to 1924, George had struggled as a Broadway actor (he had a small part in the touring company of Dulcy), but he had only become a real success when he turned to other things in the theater: writing, producing, directing, and even "doctoring" ailing plays. Broadway (1926), which he co-authored and directed, was the first of several dozen big hits with which he was to be associated over the next six decades.

When Edna died in the late 1920s, George, just past forty, found himself strangely but excitingly "on the loose" again. If he was not to be a bore, he had to learn to shed his lingering intolerance for those who drank and who, of necessity, must break the law to do so. He must also learn to enjoy the rewards of his long-postponed success. And he must get to know some new people. It was through a friendship with Charles Brackett that he was first brought into the Algonquin circle, but it was through meeting Neysa that he really came to know and like this world. His life, which had yet run only two fifths of its long course, was never to be the same, or as quiet, again.

For several years George was chiefly Neysa's friend, soon achieving a privileged position among the men she "dated." He especially liked taking Neysa to the movies and seeing her find delight in even the silliest offerings. At first, though, Jack, with his perfect ease and his suggestions where George might take his wife on their date, made him "uncomfortable." But when George realized the genuineness of Jack's casual attitude, and Neysa's perfect reciprocity, he could only conclude, with some admiration, that Jack "was a man of the world all right"-and one well worth emulating in his carefree ways.

Jack thought Neysa's new friend unduly reserved and in need of some loosening up, but he took a quiet liking to the tall, blond ex-actor nonetheless. When Neysa had George out to Sands Point for a few weekends, Jack was able to penetrate his surface reserve and discover what "a great asset" George could be socially, "good at all sorts of games" (though still enough of a Puritan to refuse to play card games), and a witty and attractive man for the ladies. Even the fact that George did not drink proved a benefit, for it meant there was always someone to drive the entourage home safely after late parties. Within a few years, George had become such a regular summer visitor that Neysa and Jack's friends were jokingly referring to their summer place as the "Abbottoir." However, what turned George from a good friend into a real intimate was a little business arrangement devised by Neysa and, in terms of its designated subject, crucially modified at Jack's suggestion.

(4) Jack Baragwanath, A Good Time was Had ( 1962)

George Abbott... began to take an unexpected interest in planting flowers and shrubs, and in fact resurrected an abandoned garden of ours where he put in vegetables. Almost every week end he had a guest out from New York, a beautiful brunette named Mary, who faithfully followed him around with trowel and shears giving him comfort and advice. Neysa and I thought little about her, for George had had many crushes before. But, as usual, she kidded him a little about his new flame, and George would always say, "What I like about Mary is her keen interest in gardening."

At the end of summer George disappeared for several weeks, and we finally got a wire from him telling us that Mary and he were married. The news was happy, of course, but carried a barb for Neysa because she loved the Sands Point place and realized that this would now be our last summer there.