Clubless Vaudevillians

For the past 15 years, headquarters for vaudevillians in Manhattan has been the National Variety Artists' Club in West 46th Street. Many a legend surrounds the place. One is that a policeman, passing late one night, spied a group of men hanging around the front door. Thinking them loafers, he ordered them to move along. To the constable's surprise, one member of the group, a tumbler, complied by doing a series of back flips all the way up the sidewalk to Broadway. Last week the N. V. A. clubhouse itself entered legend. A $150,000 deficit closed its doors.

The announcement of these sad tidings was posted on bulletin board, alongside dozens of other notices, characteristic of the trouper's trade. Samples:

Wanted--Character lady about 50, who can dance.

Wanted--To trade mandolin-banjo for E flat saxophone.

Wanted--Two baby spots.

Wanted--Young boy (brunette) to sing and play piano and work with two blondes.

At Liberty--Male pianist. Sings. Double on uke and tenor guitar. Prefers speakeasy.

Recalling the financial distress of the Lambs Club last summer (TIME, July 7) pessimists might see in the N. V. A. club-house's closing another indication of the paupery of the theatrical profession. Bu the N. V. A. club has always run an annual deficit. For years Edward Franklin Albee variety tycoon (Keith-Albee), footed thi losses until his death in 1930. A recent drive to get members to pay their bad bills amassed some $60,000, insufficient to keep the place open. It will probably b turned into a hotel.

N. V. A. will continue to operate it sanatorium for tuberculous professional at Saranac Lake, N. Y. But 8,000 of th nation's jugglers, dancers, animal trainers blues singers, acrobats have lost their metropolitan gathering place.

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