For the Holidays!

A KIDNAPPED SANTA CLAUS

by L. Frank Baum

[Above: W. W. Denslow illustrated the first edition of THE WONDERFUL WIZARD OF OZ for publication in 1900 and went on from there to create many other beautiful picture books for children. One of the most popular of these was DENSLOW’S NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS (1902); therein, he provided a new color palette for Santa Claus — or at least for his garb. The particular drawing shown here has no specific connection to the text below, but it tops off our blog because of its bright holiday glow and Denslow’s undeniable Oz connection. As well, Oz fans everywhere might notice a highly desirable toy peeking out of Santa’s sack of toys!]
 

AN INTRODUCTORY NOTE

May I first, please, extend to one and all my very best wishes/wish-Oz for a healthy, joyous, blessed, and memorable holiday season!

I know you were promised that this month would bring the third and final reminiscence about the 1989 50th Anniversary celebrations of Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer’s THE WIZARD OF OZ movie, and I vow it’ll appear here within the next ten days. (Honest!) Right now, though, it seemed a much nicer idea to oust my own words in favor of those by The Man Who Started Everything. Before WICKED, before OZ THE GREAT AND POWERFUL, RETURN TO OZ, THE WIZ, JOURNEY BACK TO OZ, and even before MGM (none of which could have happened without him), there was L. Frank Baum. That native of Chittenango, NY — born on May 15, 1856 – is, of course, the Royal Historian of Oz himself, as well as THE most “special guest” blogger imaginable. I know you’ll find him as much glorious company here as he has been to me . . . since 1956. 😊

The Baum short story, which begins just below, first appeared in the December 1904 edition of THE DELINEATOR, an exceedingly popular magazine of its day. (From January through September 1905, it would go on to print nine additional Baum short stories in a series of ANIMAL FAIRY TALES.) Of course, Baum had published a full-length children’s fantasy, THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF SANTA CLAUS in 1902, but the Santa saga he put forward in THE DELINEATOR was unique to 1904. It’s been reissued in book form a couple of times since then, but its availability is (at very best) sporadic; as a result, it’s not particularly familiar to those who aren’t major Baum fans or collectors. So, it seemed like a happy idea to share it here.

I’ve bookended this “reprint” with a full-color W. W. Denslow drawing (up top) and a panel of four full-color John R. Neill pictures (down at the bottom): all of these are representations of the patron saint of children as pictured by the two greatest Oz artists of their time. (Each man illustrated his own version of THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS, and the art is taken from those editions.) Best of all, however, is the fact that we’ve been able to include the five black-and-white illustrations by Frederick Richardson that actually accompanied THE DELINEATOR publication of Baum’s story exactly 120 years ago this month. They have been placed below as they apply to the text. (At the same time this story appeared in THE DELINEATOR, Richardson was also illustrating Baum’s full-length fantasy, QUEEN ZIXI OF IX, which was being presented in monthly installments in the ST. NICHOLAS Magazine from November 1904 through October 1905. QUEEN ZIXI OF IX then came out in book form at the time its serialization was complete.)

So, I hope you’ll settle back for a Christmas Eve (or any occasion) read-aloud time — or a seasonally-proper few moments to yourself. As with all the best of Baum’s whimsical, heartfelt, and happy-ending compositions, the story below is meant for children . . . as well as for any people who used to be children.

With my year ‘round appreciation and affection, I am, as ever,

Gratefully yours,

John [Fricke]

L. Frank Baum’s

A KIDNAPPED SANTA CLAUS

Santa Claus lives in the Laughing Valley, where stands the big, rambling castle in which his toys are manufactured. His workmen, selected from the ryls, knooks, pixies, and fairies, live with him, and everyone is as busy as can be from one year’s end to another.


It is called the Laughing Valley, because everything there is happy and gay. The brook chuckles to itself as it leaps rollicking between its green banks; the wind whistles merrily in the trees; the sunbeams dance lightly over the soft grass; and the violets and wildflowers look smilingly up from their green nests. To laugh, one needs to be happy; to be happy, one needs to be content. And throughout the Laughing Valley of Santa Claus, contentment reigns supreme.


On one side is the mighty Forest of Burzee. At the other side stands the huge mountain that contains the Caves of the Daemons. And between them, the Valley lies smiling and peaceful.
One would think that our good old Santa Claus, who devotes his days to making children happy, would have no enemies on all the earth; and, as a matter of fact, for a long period of time, he encountered nothing but love wherever he might go.


But the Daemons who live in the mountain caves grew to hate Santa Claus very much, and all for the simple reason that he made children happy.


The Caves of the Daemons are five in number. A broad pathway leads up to the first cave, which is a finely arched cavern at the foot of the mountain, the entrance being beautifully carved and decorated. In it resides the Daemon of Selfishness. Back of this is another cavern inhabited by the Daemon of Envy. The cave of the Daemon of Hatred is next in order, and through this one passes to the home of the Daemon of Malice — situated in a dark and fearful cave in the very heart of the mountain. I do not know what lies beyond this. Some say there are terrible pitfalls leading to death and destruction, and this may very well be true. However, from each one of the four caves mentioned there is a small, narrow tunnel leading to the fifth cave — a cozy little room occupied by the Daemon of Repentance. And as the rocky floors of these passages are well worn by the track of passing feet, I judge that many wanderers in the Caves of the Daemons have escaped through the tunnels to the abode of the Daemon of Repentance, who is said to be a pleasant sort of fellow who gladly opens for one a little door admitting you into fresh air and sunshine again.


Well, these Daemons of the Caves, thinking they had great cause to dislike old Santa Claus, held a meeting one day to discuss the matter.


“I’m really getting lonesome,” said the Daemon of Selfishness. “For Santa Claus distributes so many pretty Christmas gifts to all the children that they become happy and generous, through his example, and keep away from my cave.”


“I’m having the same trouble,” rejoined the Daemon of Envy. “The little ones seem quite content with Santa Claus, and there are few, indeed, that I can coax to become envious.”
“And that makes it bad for me!” declared the Daemon of Hatred. “For if no children pass through the Caves of Selfishness and Envy, none can get to MY cavern.”


“Or to mine,” added the Daemon of Malice.


“For my part,” said the Daemon of Repentance, “it is easily seen that if children do not visit your caves, they have no need to visit mine; so that I am quite as neglected as you are.”


“And all because of this person they call Santa Claus!” exclaimed the Daemon of Envy. “He is simply ruining our business, and something must be done at once.”


To this, they readily agreed; but what to do was another and more difficult matter to settle. They knew that Santa Claus worked all through the year at his castle in the Laughing Valley, preparing the gifts he was to distribute on Christmas Eve; and at first they resolved to try to tempt him into their caves, that they might lead him on to the terrible pitfalls that ended in destruction.
So, the very next day, while Santa Claus was busily at work, surrounded by his little band of assistants, the Daemon of Selfishness came to him and said:
“These toys are wonderfully bright and pretty. Why do you not keep them for yourself? It’s a pity to give them to those noisy boys and fretful girls, who break and destroy them so quickly.”
“Nonsense!” cried the old graybeard, his bright eyes twinkling merrily as he turned toward the tempting Daemon. “The boys and girls are never so noisy and fretful after receiving my presents, and if I can make them happy for one day in the year, I am quite content.”


So, the Daemon went back to the others, who awaited him in their caves, and said:
“I have failed, for Santa Claus is not at all selfish.”


The following day, the Daemon of Envy visited Santa Claus. Said he: “The toy-shops are full of playthings quite as pretty as those you are making. What a shame it is that they should interfere with your business! They make toys by machinery much quicker than you can make them by hand; and they sell them for money, while you get nothing at all for your work.”


But Santa Claus refused to be envious of the toy-shops.


“I can supply the little ones but once a year — on Christmas Eve,” he answered, “for the children are many, and I am but one. And as my work is one of love and kindness, I would be ashamed to receive money for my little gifts. But throughout all the year, the children must be amused in some way, and so the toy-shops are able to bring much happiness to my little friends. I like the toy shops and am glad to see them prosper.”


In spite of the second rebuff, the Daemon of Hatred thought he would try to influence Santa Claus. So. the next day he entered the busy workshop and said:
“Good morning, Santa! I have bad news for you.”


“Then run away, like a good fellow,” answered Santa Claus. “Bad news is something that should be kept secret and never told.”

“You cannot escape this, however,” declared the Daemon; “for in the world are a good many who do not believe in Santa Claus, and these you are bound to hate bitterly, since they have so wronged you.”


“Stuff and rubbish!” cried Santa.


“And there are others who resent your making children happy and who sneer at you and call you a foolish old rattlepate! You are quite right to hate such base slanderers, and you ought to be revenged upon them for their evil words.”


“But I don’t hate ’em!” exclaimed Santa Claus positively. “Such people do me no real harm, but merely render themselves and their children unhappy. Poor things! I’d much rather help them any day than injure them.”


Indeed, the Daemons could not tempt old Santa Claus in any way. On the contrary, he was shrewd enough to see that their object in visiting him was to make mischief and trouble, and his cheery laughter disconcerted the evil ones and showed to them the folly of such an undertaking. So, they abandoned honeyed words and determined to use force.


It is well known that no harm can come to Santa Claus while he is in the Laughing Valley, for the fairies and ryls and knooks all protect him. But on Christmas Eve, he drives his reindeer out into the big world, carrying a sleigh-load of toys and pretty gifts to the children; and this was the time and the occasion when his enemies had the best chance to injure him. So, the Daemons laid their plans and awaited the arrival of Christmas Eve.


The moon shone big and white in the sky, and the snow lay crisp and sparkling on the ground as Santa Claus cracked his whip and sped away out of the Valley into the great world beyond. The roomy sleigh was packed full with huge sacks of toys, and as the reindeer dashed onward, our jolly old Santa laughed and whistled and sang for very joy. For in all his merry life, this was the one day in the year when he was happiest — the day he lovingly bestowed the treasures of his workshop upon the little children.


It would be a busy night for him, he well knew. As he whistled and shouted and cracked his whip again, he reviewed in mind all the towns and cities and farm-houses where he was expected, and figured that he had just enough presents to go around and make every child happy. The reindeer knew exactly what was expected of them and dashed along so swiftly that their feet scarcely seemed to touch the snow-covered ground.


Suddenly a strange thing happened: a rope shot through the moonlight and a big noose that was in the end of it settled over the arms and body of Santa Claus and drew tight. Before he could resist or even cry out, he was jerked from the seat of the sleigh and tumbled head foremost into a snowbank, while the reindeer rushed onward with the load of toys and carried it quickly out of sight and sound.

     Such a surprising experience confused old Santa for a moment, and when he had collected his senses, he found that the wicked Daemons had pulled him from the snowdrift and bound him tightly with many coils of the stout rope. And then they carried the kidnapped Santa Claus away to their mountain, where they thrust the prisoner into a secret cave and chained him to the rocky wall so that he could not escape.

     “Ha, ha!” laughed the Daemons, rubbing their hands together with cruel glee. “What will the children do now? How they will cry and scold and storm when they find there are no toys in their stockings and no gifts on their Christmas trees! And what a lot of punishment they will receive from their parents, and how they will flock to our Caves of Selfishness, and Envy, and Hatred, and Malice! We have done a mighty clever thing, we Daemons of the Caves!”

     Now it so chanced that on this Christmas Eve, the good Santa Claus had taken with him in his sleigh Nuter the Ryl, Peter the Knook, Kilter the Pixie, and a small fairy named Wisk — his four favorite assistants. These little people he had often found very useful in helping him to distribute his gifts to the children, and when their master was so suddenly dragged from the sleigh, they were all snugly tucked underneath the seat, where the sharp wind could not reach them.

     The tiny immortals knew nothing of the capture of Santa Claus until some time after he had disappeared. But finally they missed his cheery voice, and as their master always sang or whistled on his journeys, the silence warned them that something was wrong.

     Little Wisk stuck out his head from underneath the seat and found Santa Claus gone and no one to direct the flight of the reindeer.

     “Whoa!” he called out, and the deer obediently slackened speed and came to a halt.

     Peter and Nuter and Kilter all jumped upon the seat and looked back over the track made by the sleigh. But Santa Claus had been left miles and miles behind.

     “What shall we do?” asked Wisk anxiously, all the mirth and mischief banished from his wee face by this great calamity.

     “We must go back at once and find our master,” said Nuter the Ryl, who thought and spoke with much deliberation.

     “No, no!” exclaimed Peter the Knook, who cross and crabbed though he was, might always be depended upon in an emergency. “If we delay, or go back, there will not be time to get the toys to the children before morning; and that would grieve Santa Claus more than anything else.”

     “It is certain that some wicked creatures have captured him,” added Kilter, thoughtfully, “and their object must be to make the children unhappy. So, our first duty is to get the toys distributed as carefully as if Santa Claus were himself present. Afterward, we can search for our master and easily secure his freedom.”

     This seemed such good and sensible advice that the others at once resolved to adopt it. So, Peter the Knook called to the reindeer, and the faithful animals again sprang forward and dashed over hill and valley, through forest and plain, until they came to the houses wherein children lay sleeping and dreaming of the pretty gifts they would find on Christmas morning.

     The little immortals had set themselves a difficult task; for although they had assisted Santa Claus on many of his journeys, their master had always directed and guided them and told them exactly what he wished them to do. But now they had to distribute the toys according to their own judgment, and they did not understand children as well as did old Santa. So, it is no wonder they made some laughable errors.

     Mamie Brown, who wanted a doll, got a drum instead; and a drum is of no use to a girl who loves dolls. And Charlie Smith, who delights to romp and play out of doors, and who wanted some new rubber boots to keep his feet dry, received a sewing box filled with colored worsteds and threads and needles, which made him so provoked that he thoughtlessly called our dear Santa Claus a fraud.

     Had there been many such mistakes, the Daemons would have accomplished their evil purpose and made the children unhappy. But the little friends of the absent Santa Claus labored faithfully and intelligently to carry out their master’s ideas, and they made fewer errors than might be expected under such unusual circumstances.

     And although they worked as swiftly as possible, day had begun to break before the toys and other presents were all distributed; so, for the first time in many years, the reindeer trotted into the Laughing Valley, on their return, in broad daylight, with the brilliant sun peeping over the edge of the forest to prove they were far behind their accustomed hours.

     Having put the deer in the stable, the little folk began to wonder how they might rescue their master; and they realized they must discover, first of all, what had happened to him and where he was.

     So, Wisk the Fairy transported himself to the bower of the Fairy Queen, which was located deep in the heart of the Forest of Burzee; and once there, it did not take him long to find out all about the naughty Daemons and how they had kidnapped the good Santa Claus to prevent his making children happy. The Fairy Queen also promised her assistance, and then, fortified by this powerful support, Wisk flew back to where Nuter and Peter and Kilter awaited him, and the four counseled together and laid plans to rescue their master from his enemies.

     It is possible that Santa Claus was not as merry as usual during the night that succeeded his capture. For although he had faith in the judgment of his little friends, he could not avoid a certain amount of worry, and an anxious look would creep at times into his kind old eyes as he thought of the disappointment that might await his dear little children. And the Daemons, who guarded him by turns, one after another, did not neglect to taunt him with contemptuous words in his helpless condition.

When Christmas Day dawned, the Daemon of Malice was guarding the prisoner, and his tongue was sharper than that of any of the others.

     “The children are waking up, Santa!” he cried. “They are waking up to find their stockings empty! Ho, ho! How they will quarrel, and wail, and stamp their feet in anger! Our caves will be full today, old Santa! Our caves are sure to be full!”

     But to this, as to other like taunts, Santa Claus answered nothing. He was much grieved by his capture, it is true; but his courage did not forsake him. And, finding that the prisoner would not reply to his jeers, the Daemon of Malice presently went away, and sent the Daemon of Repentance to take his place.

     This last personage was not so disagreeable as the others. He had gentle and refined features, and his voice was soft and pleasant in tone.

     “My brother Daemons do not trust me overmuch,” said he, as he entered the cavern; “but it is morning, now, and the mischief is done. You cannot visit the children again for another year.”

     “That is true,” answered Santa Claus, almost cheerfully; “Christmas Eve is past, and for the first time in centuries I have not visited my children.”

     “The little ones will be greatly disappointed,” murmured the Daemon of Repentance, almost regretfully; “but that cannot be helped now. Their grief is likely to make the children selfish and envious and hateful, and if they come to the Caves of the Daemons today, I shall get a chance to lead some of them to my Cave of Repentance.”

     “Do you never repent, yourself?” asked Santa Claus, curiously.

     “Oh, yes, indeed,” answered the Daemon. “I am even now repenting that I assisted in your capture. Of course, it is too late to remedy the evil that has been done; but repentance, you know, can come only after an evil thought or deed, for in the beginning there is nothing to repent of.”

     “So I understand,” said Santa Claus. “Those who avoid evil need never visit your cave.”

     “As a rule, that is true,” replied the Daemon; “yet you, who have done no evil, are about to visit my cave at once; for to prove that I sincerely regret my share in your capture, I am going to permit you to escape.”

     This speech greatly surprised the prisoner, until he reflected that it was just what might be expected of the Daemon of Repentance. The fellow at once busied himself untying the knots that bound Santa Claus and unlocking the chains that fastened him to the wall. Then he led the way through a long tunnel until they both emerged in the Cave of Repentance.

     “I hope you will forgive me,” said the Daemon pleadingly. “I am not really a bad person, you know; and I believe I accomplish a great deal of good in the world.”

     With this he opened a back door that let in a flood of sunshine, and Santa Claus sniffed the fresh air gratefully.

     “I bear no malice,” said he to the Daemon, in a gentle voice; “and I am sure the world would be a dreary place without you. So, good morning, and a Merry Christmas to you!”

     With these words he stepped out to greet the bright morning, and a moment later he was trudging along, whistling softly to himself, on his way to his home in the Laughing Valley.

     Marching over the snow toward the mountain was a vast army, made up of the most curious creatures imaginable. There were numberless Knooks from the forest, as rough and crooked in appearance as the gnarled branches of the trees they ministered to. And there were dainty Ryls from the fields, each one bearing the emblem of the flower or plant it guarded. Behind these were many ranks of Pixies, Gnomes and Nymphs, and in the rear, a thousand beautiful fairies floated along in gorgeous array.

     This wonderful army was led by Wisk, Peter, Nuter, and Kilter, who had assembled it to rescue Santa Claus from captivity and to punish the Daemons who had dared to take him away from his beloved children.

     And although they looked so bright and peaceful, the little immortals were armed with powers that would be very terrible to those who had incurred their anger. Woe to the Daemons of the Caves if this mighty army of vengeance ever met them!

     But lo! coming to meet his loyal friends appeared the imposing form of Santa Claus, his white beard floating in the breeze, and his bright eyes sparkling with pleasure at this proof of the love and veneration he had inspired in the hearts of the most powerful creatures in existence.

     And while they clustered around him and danced with glee at his safe return, he gave them earnest thanks for their support. But Wisk and Nuter and Peter, and Kilter, he embraced affectionately.

     “It is useless to pursue the Daemons,” said Santa Claus to the army. “They have their place in the world and can never be destroyed. But that is a great pity, nevertheless,” he continued musingly.

     So, the Fairies and Knooks and Pixies and Ryls all escorted the good man to his castle, and there left him to talk over the events of the night with his little assistants.

     Wisk had already rendered himself invisible and flown through the big world to see how the children were getting along on this bright Christmas morning; and by the time he returned, Peter had finished telling Santa Claus of how they had distributed the toys.

     “We really did very well,” cried the fairy, in a pleased voice; “for I found little unhappiness among the children this morning. Still, you must not get captured again, my dear master; for we might not be so fortunate another time in carrying out your ideas.”

     He then related the mistakes that had been made, and which he had not discovered until his tour of inspection. And Santa Claus at once sent him with rubber boots for Charlie Smith, and a doll for Mamie Brown; so that even those two disappointed ones became happy.

     As for the wicked Daemons of the Caves, they were filled with anger and chagrin when they found that their clever capture of Santa Claus had come to naught. Indeed, no one on that Christmas Day appeared to be at all selfish, or envious, or hateful. And, realizing that while the children’s saint had so many powerful friends it was folly to oppose him, the Daemons never again attempted to interfere with his journeys on Christmas Eve.

                                                                         The End

[Above: It may be assumed that these four of John R. Neill’s THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS illustrations of Santa were drawn on any other year than the one during which he was kidnapped — and before he switched his green or blue regalia to red.😊 They were originally published in 1908, and their appearance here is meant as an extra splash of Yuletide color from the man many consider their favorite of all the traditional Oz artists.]

Thank you again for sharing part of your holiday with us!

       – John Fricke and The International L. Frank Baum & All Things Oz Historical Foundation                          

You Are There!

GABRIEL GALE

(OZ AUTHOR/ILLUSTRATOR & ENTREPRENEUR)

IS A SPECIAL GUEST AT THE LOS ANGELES PREMIERE OF “WICKED”

By John Fricke

[Above: Gabriel Gale is known to Oz fans everywhere as the originator of the AGES OF OZ fantasy book series, as the illustrator of THE ART OF OZ (the coffee-table volume compilation of his drawings), and as a regular and honored celebrity at Chittenango’s annual OZ-Stravaganza®! festival every June. Currently, Gabe’s working on a new project with a stellar Hollywood “dream team,” and – as such (and as you can see above) — he was invited to the Hollywood premiere of the movie version of WICKED on Saturday, November 9th. 😊 Details below!]

I know it was promised that this month’s blog would offer the third (and final) reminiscence about the 50th anniversary celebrations of MGM’s THE WIZARD OF OZ back in 1989 – and I hereby vow that such mini-history will be wrapped up in our next entry. However . . . the BIG news on the present-day OZ horizon is the coming (within days!) cross-country premiere of WICKED, the first of a two-part motion picture extravaganza based on the legendary stage musical. Drawn from Gregory Maguire’s novel, WICKED has just launched its 22nd season on Broadway, and that electrifying entertainment is now being brought to the screen by its composer/lyricist Stephen Schwartz, its librettist Winnie Holzman, and its producer Marc Platt.

For the past two weeks, the media has been jampacked with coverage of advance screenings of WICKED in such diverse locales as New York, London, Mexico, and Australia. On Saturday evening, November 9th, however, Glinda’s ball dropped (so to speak) in Southern California, with a smashing premiere at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion of the Los Angeles Music Center.

And as one of our prized “Oz operatives” was there as a special guest, we didn’t want to wait any longer to bring his comments about that glorious occasion to all of you!

Some of Gabriel Gale’s specific Oz connections are referenced in the caption under one of his WICKED premiere photos at the top of this blog. He and I have been friends and compatriots for almost 18 years – an association that was commemorated when I was asked to interview eight “royal citizens” of Oz; their recollections provided the text for his most recent book, THE ART OF OZ (2022):

Since then, Gabe’s projects have diversified, and one of his major professional considerations across the past two years has been a happy creative amalgamation with the aforementioned Ms. Holzman and Messrs. Schwartz and Platt. (Details to come, as they occur!) But given that association – and Gabe’s overall dedication to Oz – these current coworkers saw to it that he was also an essential and special guest attendee at the Los Angeles WICKED evening. Meanwhile, Gabe’s friendship with Chittenango and the All Things Oz Museum™ has long since become “a given,” and he graciously agreed to describe the magic of November 9th for all of us here, too!

In preparation for the event, Gabe “bought a green velvet tuxedo jacket with satin lapels at the State & Liberty Men’s Shop” (and notes, “I plan to wear it again!”). Stephen Schwartz’s incomparable associate, Michael Cole, offered advance, detailed instructions about approaching the downtown Music Center, for as Gabe reports, “There was so much going on.” There are five different theaters and concert halls in that acclaimed complex, and for the WICKED event, “The lower level of the huge block was set up so that the crowds of cheering fans who’d gathered on street level could watch the arriving celebrities — and the paparazzi could claim their pictures and videos. This was overseen by security, who were always in control.”

A long staircase led to the upper level and courtyard, which is where the theater entrances are located, and where Gabe and his companion walked into a wonderland of WICKED. “There were five or six ‘vignettes’ of film-related exhibitions that had been assembled and mounted – including star costumes from the movie, Lego recreations of the WICKED characters of OZ, and a raft of various Lexus cars, wrapped in WICKED designs – clockwork and otherwise.

“And, of course, there was a major green carpet to walk to enter the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion itself.

“Once inside, we were seated in the center orchestra – and surrounded by those principally involved in the motion picture itself. We were three rows in front of Ariana Grande and Cynthia Erivo, one row in front of Michelle Yeoh, and six feet to the right of Jeff Goldblum. Stephen was sitting near Ariana and Cynthia, and when we turned and waved at him, he got up, ‘traversed’ his way out of his row, came down to ours, and ‘traversed’ his way in to hug and welcome us.” (Such kindness and largesse on the part of composer/lyricist Schwartz will comes as no surprise to the hundreds who remember his interview and musical performances onstage at Chittenango’s OZ-Stravaganza®! in 2018 – and his alternately “live” and pretaped greetings to attendees at the festivals in 2023 and 2024.)

Among a flock of other attending stars, Gabe was quick to notice the devotion paid by both fans and movie personnel to Kristin Chenoweth and Idina Menzel – the original Broadway stars of WICKED. “Marc Platt had the two of them up onstage at the Chandler with all the principal cast performers from the film. They’re at the far right in this photo.” Otherwise, from left, below: producer Marc Platt, Ariana Grande, Cynthia Erivo, Jonathan Bailey, Michelle Yeoh, Jeff Goldblum, Marissa Bode, Ethan Slater, and Keala Settle. (Their Ozian identities, respectively: Glinda, Elphaba, Fiyero, Madame Morrible, the Wizard of Oz, Nessarose, Boq, and Miss Coddle; the latter is a new character, added to the film plot.)

Amidst such excitement, Gabe also had the opportunity to briefly meet Ariana and Cynthia, aka G[a]linda and Elphaba. His “take”: “When you’re near or with them, you can feel their ‘superstar’ energy, but what predominates (in the case of both women) are the other qualities. They’re sweet and warm – and loving and inviting and caring.”

And the film itself? Well, here’s Gabe “prior to the preem,” in an exclamatory, heralding, “acclamatory” pose . . . already confident in what he was about to see. For his post-performance review, please keep reading below this photographic hallelujah! 😊

“It’s GREAT . . . an incredible movie. Director John Chu couldn’t have done any aspect of it better, and it’s all right up there on screen to see. Everybody involved is working at the top of their game: all the creative and technical components, the cast, musicians, set and costume designers, the crew, the special effects artists . . .. The result is as perfect a picture as it could be.

“And at the end, there was overwhelming excitement: a screaming, standing, cheering ovation.”

—–

Two things to add: A heartfelt “thank you” — and gratitude and appreciation — to Our Man in Hollywood, Gabriel Gale!

And – if even necessary, here’s the reminder: WICKED opens this coming week. Y’all GO!  😊

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO “THE GREEN BOOK”!

THE OFFICIAL 50th ANNIVERSARY PICTORIAL HISTORY”

IS NOW 35 YEARS OLD

Part Two

By John Fricke

Above: Artwork detail from the cover of the weekly “TV Screen” supplement to the MILWAUKEE JOURNAL (Sunday, December 11, 1960). It heralds that evening’s network telecast of THE WIZARD OF OZ – the third in what would be a virtually annual series through 1998. Echoing their approach of the preceding year (when Red Skelton and daughter Valentina did the honors), CBS engaged one of their top series “names” (and offspring) to host the film. Shown here, bottom left, are Richard Boone and his seven-year-old son Peter; Boone was the star of HAVE GUN, WILL TRAVEL. The OZ drawing itself was prepared by JOURNAL staff artist Einar V. Quist, and the original clipping was one of some 500 illustrations in THE WIZARD OF OZ: THE OFFICIAL 50th ANNIVERSARY PICTORIAL HISTORY coffee-table book of 1989, currently celebrating the 35th anniversary of its publication.

Welcome to Part Two of our birthday salute to the best-selling, full-length history of Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer’s 1939 production of THE WIZARD OF OZ, first published 35 years ago this past August to commemorate the film’s 50th anniversary in 1989. Its immediate and gleeful reception by Oz enthusiasts, film buffs, critics, and the public made the emerald-clothbound volume a happy success for me, Jay Scarfone, and William Stillman. “The green book” – as it’s often been termed – broke considerable new ground in telling AND illustrating the back-story of the OZ motion picture; it’s been gratifying and delightful to find that it continues to please both new and long-standing fans.

All those years ago, the book’s actual creation saw it burgeon from a proposed 200-picture offering — with brief comment and captions — to a final product encompassing 500 pictures and a full text. Many people continue to approach me for details on “how it all came to be,” whether the questions are posed at Chittenango’s OZ-Stravaganza! or other Oz festivals and events. So it seemed the 85th anniversary might be a good time to kick across the saga for posterity, and this is actually the second installment in the retelling. (Part one may be found below, at the conclusion of this entry.)

That initial account concluded in September 1987, when I approached Jack Haley, Jr. (Son of Tin Man!) for advice on how to get an okay from MGM to seek a publisher for such a book. Jack was way ahead of me; even before we met, he’d taken a copy of our 20-page outline/proposal to Roger Mayer, chief executive officer of the Turner Entertainment Company (TEC), recommending that I be given such permission. Roger was a long-time, respected official with a renowned reputation in the industry. (It would be impossible to tabulate how many of his compatriots were thrilled when he was presented with the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences’ “Jean Hersholt Humanitarian Award” Oscar in 2005.) Roger was also a fast-thinking, quick-moving decision maker, and I soon had a letter from him saying that the studio would cooperate with me and allow access to surviving MGM paperwork and art for use in the book. With that major hurdle surmounted, we could move ahead with what we had given a working title of THE WIZARD OF OZ: A PICTORIAL HISTORY.

Back home in New York City in autumn 1987, I became acquainted with Carole Orgel and Lois Sloane of TEC’s licensing and merchandising division. This was initially a bit overwhelming, as they immediately, unquestioningly, and basically blew the padlock off the hinges of the surviving MGM archive for me – even though Roger’s letter had merely implied that the company would allow reasonable entrée and use. I figured I needed to be honest and remind Carole of this, but when I expressed that thought, she simply said, “Hey – word has come down through the channels that ‘ROGER MAYER WANTS THIS BOOK!’” And that, in effect, meant that everything was mine to peruse.

Who was I to argue? 😊

Armed with such avowed corporate cooperation – and the proposal and the “assembled art” portfolio I’d assembled of material from the collections of we three authors – our agent Mitchell Rose went to work. He called just a few weeks later to announce that Warner Books had made an offer to publish a 256-page, hardcover, 8.5×11 inch volume, with sixty-four pages in full color. Even Mitch, a young pro, was thrilled; MGM/TEC were impressed; and the three “creators” were alternately jubilant, cautious, wide-eyed, and awed. (Well, I was, anyway!)

By March 1988, the contracts were signed, and they specifically called for (among other things) approximately 250 illustrations in the finished product. Of course, our collections were the foundation for much of the vintage and contemporary Oz memorabilia and merchandising we planned to use. It was decided, though, that we would plow some of the advance money right back into the project by sending me on a research jaunt to the West Coast. The admitted hope was that this might turn up a dozen or so rare pictures to add to the hundreds that Jay, Bill, and I already had on hand.

I undertook that trip for three weeks in April 1988. It was not only a revelation but provided the almost daily feeling that God was looking down and saying (in effect), “You want to do a book? I’ll GIVE you a book!” Rather than “a dozen or so” visuals, that journey turned up more than four hundred “new” photographs, studio memos, special effects work sheets, Technicolor test slides, clippings, and scores of script pages – most of which had been unpublished or at least unseen for almost 50 years.

Much of the treasure trove was located at the Margaret Herrick Library of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences. One of their newer acquisitions at that time was the John Truwe Collection; he’d been a make-up man at MGM for decades and had saved a handful of test stills from each of the many films on which he’d worked. THE WIZARD OF OZ, however, was the exception. There were more than seventy make-up and costume test reference photos that he’d retained from that production (most of them unfamiliar); they provided glowing visual proof of many behind-the-scenes rumors and/or anecdotes. We used a lot of them in the book, of course, and here are a few reminders of what had been, until 1989, hidden treasure.

Judy Garland’s Dorothy went through multiple hair styles, make-up applications, ruby slipper designs, and different dresses as MGM tried to transform the 16-year-old entertainer into a Kansas youngster of 12. There are many pictures of those efforts that more-or-less obliterate Dorothy in favor of lookalikes for Lewis Carroll’s Alice – or Heidi, Pippi Longstocking, and Marcia Brady (the latter decades ahead of the fact). But here’s Judy in her # 2 frock, and this one would not be out-of-place on one of the von Trapp Family Singers:

As a preteen, I’d been fascinated by a quote from a 1939 MGM press release, excerpted in the text for Alla T. Ford and Dick Martin’s delightful book, THE MUSICAL FANTASIES OF L. FRANK BAUM (1959). It offered that OZ had “terrified Hollywood by unique production problems. Characteristic of innumerable dilemmas was that posed by the flying monkeys. MGM borrowed wings of giant condors from museums, attached them to midgets dressed in monkey suits, who were hung on wires and manipulated from an elaborate control board.” Well, that made for a great story, but certainly none of the actual movie simians bore such an on-screen appearance. Imagine my thrill, however — nearly thirty years later — to find visual proof that some sort of attempt or variation along those lines had indeed been tested at the studio. (Notice, too, the electrical cord on the floor, trailing off to the right side of the photo. Battery packs would be used to “flap” the small wings in the ultimate film, but electricity was employed here for test purposes.)

I wouldn’t meet Jerry Maren until the actual 50th anniversary of OZ in 1989. But from that day on, he and wife Elizabeth – a preeminent “Munchkin by Marriage” — became steadfast and remarkable friends and coworkers. Thus, there was some exceptional foreshadowing for me in the 1988 discovery of this next costume test shot. Jerry’s flanked here by his “Lollipop Guild” compatriots: Harry Doll on his right, Jackie Gerlich on his left. (The signboard is incorrect.) Note that wigs and make-up were yet-to-come as part of their costuming.

It was a fortunate thing that I first examined all these extraordinary mementoes in a library . . . or I would have been voicing a lot of exclamatory reactions. I think this “discovery” created the greatest initial thrill for me, as there were decades of reports that Gale Sondergaard had been cast, costumed, and tested as a beautiful Wicked Witch of the West — only to leave the production when it was decided she’d appear instead as a typical old harridan. I found the latter “look” among Truwe’s archive, as well, but the best image was this first one: the slinky, sequined, eye-shadowed Evil-Queen-of-SNOW-WHITE-styled visage. (That night, when I got back to the Hollywood hotel from the library, I called Jay and Bill long distance to exult about the existence of such a photo.)

Meanwhile, the Academy held much other amazing material. There was the Tom Tarr Technicolor Collection: roughly 190 35mm film frames, each taken from WIZARD test footage. These captured between-the-scenes and often casual moments never visible in the actual film. There were also the personal collections of the newspaper columns written by Hedda Hopper, Louella Parsons, and Sidney Skolsky. That fact that they’d been gathered made a much simpler task of following the OZ commentary of three preeminent daily reporters of that era.

Perhaps best of all, the Academy possessed some of the papers of A. Arnold “Buddy” Gillespie, the gentleman whose genius and staff were responsible for the OZ special effects. (All of them were, of course, created “out of whole cloth,” so to speak; there was no CGI in 1938-39.) Buddy’s files included the forms he was required to fill out to explain the dates, costs, and procedures attendant to creating OZ film magic. Paramount among his sorcery — to this day — might well be the “twister,” which he formulated at a time in history when there were only still photograph captures of actual tornadoes, plus a single, 30-second bit of grainy black-and-white film footage of a Caribbean waterspout. (We used a tornado-in-repose picture in the 50th ANNIVERSARY book; here’s a more-recently-discovered frame of the Gillespie “cyclone” in action as it’s about to envelop the farmhouse. This bit of film was trimmed from the OZ rough cut prior to its premiere, possibly because it proved too intense for the youngsters in the OZ “sneak preview” audience.)

The Academy library had other photos of major interest, too. The theory has been that MGM, back in the day, circulated very few OZ stills that depicted the actual filming process; by that I mean, on-set or set-adjacent photos that showed the lights, cameras, and non-acting personnel. The rationale attendant to this hesitation on the part of the studio has been ascribed to the idea that such pictures – seen in the press or in the showcases or lobbies of theaters — would break the spell of the fantasy on screen. This, however, didn’t mean such images weren’t taken, and among others, we found a distant “capture” that took in both acting and activity:

There were also stills from deleted moments of OZ, including several from the excision I most regret. It’s the sixty seconds when 300+ green-clad Emerald Citizians – singing, dancing, marching, or viewing — welcomed the Fab Five back to town as the Scarecrow brandished the broomstick of the fallen Witch of the West. The principals aren’t visible in this capture – but it surely denotes an extraordinary musical minute that I would put back into OZ, pronto. (If only it existed!)

Unfortunately, most of MGM’s actual production paperwork for their films was destroyed circa 1970. Yet the legal files remained and were housed at Turner at the time I was researching; that information was made available to me, as well. (Another appreciative salute here for the trust of Roger Mayer, by way of Jack Haley, Jr.) Those papers included astonishing background data and many remarks — or even fragments of remarks — that could be assembled with other facts to paint a word picture in accompaniment to our ever-growing stacks of illustrations.

The University of Southern California furnished another significant cache of material. Its Arthur Freed and Roger Edens Collections contained surviving memos, discarded lyric sheets, and stacks of script pages that contributed many revelatory Ozian insights – even for someone who’d already spent several decades researching the film for fun.

At this point in the story, it’s important to note that (almost despite ourselves) we found the book evolving from a planned, simple pictorial into a complete retelling of the making, editing, promotion, reception, and subsequent history of MGM’s WIZARD. There were two primary reasons for this: first, such background was required if a reader was to make adequate sense of the mountain of art the book would possess. Of equal importance, however, was the unexpected actuality that so much of the material that turned up was new or provided clarification (and even major correction) of some of the hitherto accepted “facts” behind the film.

Meanwhile, material continued to pile up from other West Coast sources – notably those somehow connected to the production. Sarah, the youngest daughter of OZ director Victor Fleming, made available remarkable material from her father’s WIZARD scrapbook. Robert Baum, great-grandson of L. Frank himself, shared another amazing scrapbook, this one compiled in 1938-39 by Maud Gage Baum, Frank’s widow. It contained a mass of rare clippings, telegrams, advertisements, an invitation to the movie premiere — even a ticket stub! Linda, the daughter of OZ producer Mervyn LeRoy, gave us access to her father’s papers. Sid Luft, longtime manager and once husband of Judy Garland, offered WIZARD items from the material Judy herself had maintained throughout her life and which he had preserved since her passing. Jane Lahr, daughter of the Cowardly Lion, answered questions about her father.

Furthermore, the generosity of other Oz and Judy Garland collectors made for preeminent blessings. Bill Chapman possessed five original color transparencies of the OZ cast, including a classic portrait of Dorothy and Toto. We used all of ’em in the book, and although this one has since been seen everywhere, it first appeared in the 50th ANNIVERSARY tome:

I’d been a member of The International Wizard of Oz Club, Inc. (ozclub.org) since 1962, and several compatriots I’d met during my first year in the organization jumped in — more than 25 years later — to offer rarities from their own archives: Fred M. Meyer, Dick Martin, and Douglas and David Greene. Rob Roy MacVeigh was a younger affiliate but an “MGM-er” from way back and every bit a match to our excitement about the book. Marc Lewis allowed us to borrow all forty of his first editions of the Oz book series, so that their covers could be professionally photographed for the three-page spread demonstrating the scope of Oz far beyond Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer.

Woolsey Ackerman tracked down one of the OZ assistant directors, Wallace Worsley — Woolsey and I interviewed him together — and then also discovered an Adrian collector who owned and entrusted us with the loan of four of that genius’s original Munchkin costume sketches. (See pages 32 and 33 in the book.) The movie’s “Munchkin Coroner,” Meinhardt Raabe, was a longtime friend to the Oz Club, and he sat for a warm, detailed interview with Jay and Bill, while other audio and printed interviews were made available through the Academy, historians, and fans.

Further, the project was a marvelous way to make friends. Buddy Ebsen, the original OZ Tin Man, was overjoyed when I was able to point him to the location of some of his costume and make-up test stills – and even those of “his” Tin Man in the few scenes he was able to film before becoming ill. He was ever interested in revisiting the crazy association he had with OZ, although his remembrance turned rather wry when he recalled the heat and heft suffered in wearing two costumes at once. He’s shown here with Ray Bolger and Bert Lahr in the sequence where the friends of Dorothy don coats of the Winkie Guard:

By August 1988, we’d accumulated more than 700 images from which to choose the illustrations, and the book grew to a 500+ picture project. We next dug in to write the captions for all that art, endeavoring to get as much information into the wordage as possible. This was not only for the sake of imparting history but to minimize the amount of actual text writing yet to do. Jay and Bill did the majority of the labeling of the promotional material, along with that to accompany past, interim, and present-day merchandising. They also contributed first drafts of chapters 14 and 20 to discuss the Ozzy film-related products.

I wrote the remainder of the text and captions between mid-August and December, trepidatiously delivering the manual-portable-typewriter manuscript just prior to the holidays. I also took another jaunt to the West Coast, spending ten October days to check out several new illustrations that had come to light since the first swath of research in April. Meanwhile, Mitchell Rose and/or Warner Books were becoming ever more revved about the project’s possibilities. In their fervor, they sold OZ to British publishers Hodder & Stoughton, as well as to the Book of the Month Club and to the Movie/Entertainment Book Club. Amid all this, Turner Entertainment – in the mildest tone of inquiry – asked if we would mind changing the subtitle from A PICTORIAL HISTORY to (what was, to say the least, an honor designation) THE OFFICIAL 50th ANNIVERSARY PICTORIAL HISTORY. Mind you, at that point, no one had read a single word of the manuscript. Talk about the magic of Oz!

Our man at Warner Books, Jim Frost, returned the manuscript to me in early January 1989, fresh from the copy editor. As someone who’d never before written a book, I was terrified of that meeting, fearing that wholesale chopping, rearranging, and dismissal might have occurred, been recommended . . . or demanded. Instead, there some minor “cosmetic” changes — and a few suggestions for clarification here and there. But that was it. My pendulum quickly swung the other way, and I pointedly asked Jim if it wouldn’t be best to have someone more critical look at (if not take a hatchet to) all those chapters. He paid me a compliment that eventually went to the hearts and souls of all of us Ozians who’d worked so diligently to assemble the raw materials: “John . . .  very seldom do we receive this seamless a manuscript.”

Happy day? To be sure – but there were more of those in the immediate offing. The copy was in galley by February, and I spent many days through the spring at the NYC design studios of Sylvain Michaelis and Irene Carpelis, the independent firm hired to create the physical book. They involved me in every department, and ideas flew around the office. We were all so much on the same page (. . .) that immediate coalescence was the order of each session. At their request, I keyed the artwork into the text and assembled the color materials on their 64 pages so that correct prominence was given to the best of the 1939 (and beyond) MGM-related images. We all agreed on green binding and endpapers, and to 1930s art deco as an appropriate, tangible through-line for the page-by page appearance. Without exception, Sylvain, Irene & Co. were patience-squared in dealing with the incessant Ozzy perk (i.e., Fricke) at hand.

And then . . . to the surprise of all of us: The entire text FIT, all the desired pictures FIT, and the book came to exactly 256 pages – with no deletions, several last-minute additions, and the inclusion of twice as many visuals — and four or five times as many words –as was thought possible.

By the end of May, it was done, and Warner Books sent off the page mechanicals and art to a printer in Tennessee. In late June and over the 4th of July weekend, Warner representative Charles Morea forsook holiday time and flew down to oversee the final printing process. The first book was delivered to Warner’s in New York on July 18th, and Jim Frost called to alert me at the end of that business day: “We have ONE copy. We need it back here by 10 a.m. tomorrow. But if you come over now, you can take it home overnight.” Moreover, the finished product had already swept through the offices that afternoon, and when I arrived, the head of Warner Books came down to Jim’s office to congratulate us. (There’s an additional, very personal saga to the rest of that evening, but we’ll have to discuss that in person. 😊 Meanwhile. this picture wasn’t taken on that specific date — but very soon thereafter:)

And all THAT was just the beginning! I promise to wrap this up next month in a reminiscence about the nationwide tidal wave of enthusiasm caused by “the green book,” for it immediately became a surprisingly pivotal part of the overall 50th anniversary celebrations. There was also an additional, concurrent project on which I was asked to work, plus a multi-city promotional and “signing” tour arranged on behalf of that second product and the book . . . plus TV, radio, and Macy’s – all for MGM’s wonderful WIZARD OF OZ.

One anecdote still makes me laugh. The poster above was on display in countless cross-country bookstores from late July until Christmas 1989. A cherished friend from college days, Lillian Polus Gerstner, managed one such emporium, and she was a “theatrical” as well; we’d done several shows together and shared our enthusiasms for many things. When the OZ poster arrived at her shop, she was excited to discover there was such a book in the offing but gave the oversize “ad” only a cursory glance, planning to display it as soon when she had time. She also (as she told me later), planned to call her Oz-obsessed old buddy, John Fricke, to make sure he knew about the existence of such a volume. (Hands up, please, all Ozites reading here whose entire acquaintance of family, friends, associates — and strangers met on a bus — SOMEhow knew you were OZ fans, because you discussed it MULTIPLE hours a day. Every day. 😊 ) A few hours later, Lillian took a break to unfurl the poster and was astounded at one of the names on the book cover. As she did tell me later that night, “It made sense, of course . . . but it sure was a surprise!”

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO “THE GREEN BOOK”!

“THE WIZARD OF OZ — THE OFFICIAL 50th ANNIVERSARY PICTORIAL HISTORY” IS NOW 35 😊

Part One – By John Fricke

Above: This is the front dust jacket cover of the book that celebrated the golden anniversary of MGM’s THE WIZARD OF OZ just 35 years ago this summer . . . and on into that autumn and winter. Once the volume hit stores the third week of July 1989, there was such an immediate public response that Warner Books was propelled into two additional hard-cover printings well before the end of August.

This summer, the media launched – with doubtless more to come — all the expected (and still darn thrilling!) hoopla warranted by the 85th anniversary of Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer’s 1939 motion picture, THE WIZARD OF OZ. There’s a revitalized DVD package, a raft of glowing new products and merchandising, a schedule of special screenings and festivals, and a coming documentary. There’s also a mounting series of YouTube-posted “reaction videos,” wherein numerous young adults have recorded themselves as they watch the movie for the first time. (Some of them are instantly gleeful. Others initially manifest or feign blasé sophistication. Yet all end up enthralled and rapturous by the end of the picture.) Social media, too, is in its own furor, mingling new peaks of Ozzy enthusiasm with unfortunate and burgeoning idiocies of inaccurate declarations, gossip, and dark-dark-dark stupidity.

Mostly, however, it’s once again been about joy and magic and memories – which brings me to the topic of this month’s blog. Amidst all the recent Ozzy Facebook offerings, I’ve been grateful and proud to encounter a raft of postings about THE WIZARD OF OZ: THE OFFICIAL 50TH ANNIVERSARY PICTORIAL HISTORY. That was the first of the eight Fricke books to date, and it was done in conjunction with collectors Jay Scarfone and William Stillman. As noted in the caption above, it hit stores in July 1989, enjoyed three hardcover printings in just seven weeks, and reappeared as an oversize trade paperback in 1990 (and again in 1998). Originally bound in an emerald-colored covering, it instantly became known among fans as “the green book” — nomenclature it retains to this day. 😊

I hope any pride-between-the-lines here – and as I write along – will be pardonable. That “green book” continues to inspire exhilaration and gratitude in me; it was more-or-less the launching pad for these past 35 years of Oz and/or Judy Garland related activities. Without getting into the specifics, I am in awe at how many of them there have been, and I am bound to be thankful.

Anyway, I thought a look-back on how that first project came into existence might be of interest, particularly in terms of the discoveries made along the way. Oz devotees continue to this day to present copies to be autographed; they pose questions about the content; and if they’re comparatively new Ozians, they kindly and/or rabidly exult over the art, the anecdotes, and all.

That book essentially grew out of a lunch date here in New York City roughly four years earlier. Brad Saiontz was visiting from Boston and reached out to me as a fellow Oz fan; he was also a keen collector and showed me a couple of exciting OZ stills I’d never before seen. (Little did anyone know in the mid-1980s how many mountains of 1938-39 OZ visuals would come to light in succeeding decades!) What made Brad’s pictures noteworthy was the fact that they had been taken during the initial two weeks of OZ filming in October 1938. This was when Judy was a blonde, wearing a different wig, dress, make-up, and shoes; when Ray Bolger and Margaret Hamilton’s make-ups were peculiar; and when Buddy Ebsen was playing the Tin Woodman. (Just below is one of the photos Brad shared back in 1985 or so that provided me with an absolute jolt of elation. In addition to the difference in the characters’ appearances, you can see that even the Yellow Brick Road is differently paved – and not curbed. Below this first visual are two other stills which turned up later in my own research and also date from those early days on the set. Once again, Judy is a blonde Dorothy, shown here with Margaret Hamilton’s Wicked Witch of the West; the latter wears a different make-up, and her hair is in a sort of Marlo (THAT GIRL) Thomas – or Lea (GLEE) Michele – flip. Beneath this, the Famous Four are posed as they hope to escape up the staircase in the Witch’s Castle. In addition to “Lolita Gale of Kansas” (as she’s been affectionately termed), you’ll see the Scarecrow with a make-up that offers a certain “Mummy of Oz” quality – along with Buddy Ebsen as the Tin Man.

Back to that opportune meeting with Brad. As his passion for OZ was most certainly a match for mine, we fell to discussing the idea that a majorly illustrated book about the film’s creation might be a great idea for the coming 50th anniversary. We envisioned it, from the onset, primarily as a pictorial; THE MAKING OF THE WIZARD OF OZ book was then not even a decade old, and it was pretty much universally held that the backstory of the picture had been therein told by Aljean Harmetz. Meanwhile, my own college degree was in journalism, and – as of 1985 – I’d been working in entertainment-adjacent public relations for more than fifteen years, so I had writing credentials. I was not, however, a collector on Brad’s level, or that of Bill Stillman, whom I knew through The International Wizard of Oz Club; thus, Bill was readily invited to come on board, too.

To summarize the next couple of years: Michael Patrick Hearn, another Oz Club friend (since 1963!), introduced me to his book agent, Mitchell Rose, who endorsed the John/Brad/Bill concept and outlined the necessity for a proposal and portfolio sample of art which he could eventually circulate to publishers. While the Harmetz tome had included behind-the-scenes photos and reproductions of memos, NO book – to that date – had reproduced any of the beautiful (and COLORFUL) OZ posters, lobby cards, magazine ads, rotogravure pages, or samples from decades of Oz movie merchandising. Nor could one find anywhere depicted in color the covers of all forty (plus!) of the original Oz series – or the foreign edition movie-tie books – or the glorious exploitation aids for the film prepared by MGM for its theatrical engagements. (And etc.!) Because of the heavily promoted Technicolor splendor of OZ, many Kodachrome images were taken of the various stars and scenes in 1938-39. Most, however, had disappeared into long-forgotten filing cabinets and storage units, although we hoped to locate at least some of those true-color images for the book. (I’m about to get a bit ahead of the story, but here’s one we did! Please note the barely visible string used to tie Bert Lahr’s tail into the appropriate angle for a photograph.)

So, Mitchell, Bill, and I were increasingly het-up about our ideas and the potential for the endeavor. Brad, however, unexpectedly dropped out of sight — and communication — for the interim years between 1987-1989; then a desired third contributor happily turned up in another Oz collector and club member, Jay Scarfone.

Throughout summer 1987, I was singing on the Cunard Princess cruise ship, up and down along the Alaska coast for ten weeks. It fell to me, during that time, to follow Mitchell’s advisements and to write what turned out to be a twenty-page outline for the book’s text and to assemble, as well, an oversize, seventy-page portfolio of suggested art: black-and-white and color photocopies from the collections of the three authors. I can’t recall now if all three of these images just below were part of that presentation, but they certainly appeared in the finished product and definitely represented the sort of bright and bountiful artwork we hoped would enhance the book. At top, Judy and Ray pose with a momentarily docile apple tree; this shot was exclusively published in the NEW YORK SUNDAY MIRROR on August 20, 1939); a specialized, cartoon approach to OZ advertising that appeared in a number of Sunday newspaper “comic sections” during that same month; and a title lobby card for the first OZ reissue in 1949. By then, Judy Garland had become such an international film star that her billing became much more prominent than that of the rest of the cast.

Another of Mitchell’s dictates was the wise, savvy, and very challenging counsel that I needed to somehow get permission from the Turner Entertainment Company to DO such a book – along with their assurance they would license no other major WIZARD OF OZ anniversary tome! (Mind you, I had never before in my life sought the responsibility or demands required of an author; this was a new world, to be sure.)

So . . . from Alaska, I wrote to Jack Haley, Jr. – both the “Son of Tin Man” and a highly-regarded force in Hollywood. (To offer that he was the producer and director of THAT’S ENTERTAINMENT [1974] is credit enough and an indication of his status.) I’d had dealings with Jack across the preceding eight years, often in connection with various MGM-related features I was preparing for the Oz Club magazine, THE BAUM BUGLE. We’d corresponded and spoken on the phone, and though we’d never met, he did know of me. So, I sent him the book outline, noted that I’d be disembarking from the ship in San Pedro, and offering that I’d call his office when I arrived, in case he would be willing to tell me to whom I should speak at Turner about licensing OZ material for such a venture. (The back story of the photo below will be offered in next month’s blog, but by way of introduction, that’s Jack, Sr., reading a favored book to five-year-old Jack, Jr., sometime between November 1938 and summer 1939.)

Begging for courage, I did indeed place that call on my first morning in the Los Angeles area. I gave my name, and before I could ask to speak to Jack, his secretary exclaimed, “Oh, he’s waiting to hear from you! Call him at home!” A deeper breath, another call, and I got, “John! Where are you staying? Have you got a car? Can you come right over? This is the address!” (I was suddenly calmer – and much more motivated than trepidatious!)

Given his immediate kindness, Jack and I became instant friends, and after 45 minutes of get-further-acquainted and industry chatter, I finally ventured to bring up the topic of the proposal. (As much as I was reveling in the man’s company, I was certainly still insecure enough to fear he was dancing through all the other topics while building up to telling me that my work was no good.) Finally: “Jack . . . about the book. Do you even think it’s an okay idea? Or should we forget it? . . . Or DO you know to whom I’d speak in licensing?”

His reply: “Oh, don’t bother with licensing! I went to Roger Mayer’s office — he’s the president and chief executive officer at Turner Entertainment – and I put the proposal on his desk. I told him, ‘If you want a 50th anniversary OZ book, John Fricke is the person to do it’!”

Okay!!!! 😊

As referenced above, the rest of the story will be along here in the next entry. Suffice it to say, Roger Mayer’s coming approbation made a whole lot possible – even though it was misinterpreted by some . . . all to the book’s advantage!

Here’s a final image to “go out on.” This is the back dust jacket cover for the 1989 hardbound edition. The nine images here weren’t used on the rear of the 1990 paperback, so I thought it would be nice to show them again here.

And many thanks for reading!

Ha-Ha-Ha! Ho-Ho-Ho!

And a Happy, High-Spirited History of Last Month’s Magic (Or: Oz-Stravaganza® 2024 😊)

by John Fricke

Above: Adapted from original illustrations by W. W. Denslow, the Fab Four – plus Toto and an apparently welcome compatriot to the Scarecrow – serve as a constant “logo pictorial” for the All Things Oz Museum in Chittenango, New York. That hamlet was the birthplace of L. Frank Baum, author of THE WIZARD OF OZ, and the Museum there is not only open year-round but serves as one of the primary focal points of the town’s annual Oz-Stravaganza®, traditionally held the first weekend in June. To read about (and see striking proof of) this year’s rapturous blow-out, please keep slowly scrollin’ down!

After 46 prior and virtually annual jubilations, what can be said about Oz-Stravaganza® #47 that hasn’t been gratefully and proudly “sung out” before? Perhaps the most grandiose AND accurate declaration is that the weekend of May 31st-June 2nd, 2024, may well rank among the top five or six Ozzy excitements in Chittenango history.

Somehow, it all specially coalesced this spring with a combination of energy, joy, and relaxation unique to these impossible-to-rehearse and pretty much spontaneous presentations. It’s no exaggeration to say that (once again) the crowd of approximately 30,000 participants contributed a major share of the exhilaration.

The weather gods contributed as well, with alternately sunny, partly cloudy, or overcast days and evenings, but nary a drop of Gene Kelly (that’s “show biz” for precipitation!) until an hour or so after the 4 p.m. Grand Finale in Oz Park on Sunday. Otherwise – and naturally — the special guests were among those providing rainbow moments across all three days. This year, OZ-Strav! hosted two “newbies” (Robert Welch and Irma Starr) and four returnees (Jane Lahr, Gita Dorothy Morena, Steve Margoshes, and Gabriel Gale); the six of ‘em offered a diversity of presentations.

As everyone must by now be aware, 2024 marks the 85th anniversary of the release of Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer’s iconic musical film version of THE WIZARD OF OZ. Jane Lahr returned to Chittenango for her third visit in honor of the occasion, and the anecdotal and illustrated mélange she offered about her father, Bert Lahr – THE Cowardly Lion of the movie (and for all-time) – warmed hearts and generated emotions ranging from guffaws to quiet tears:

A fresh and singular view of the film was captivatingly shared by someone unusually well-equipped for the job. The grandson of A. Arnold “Buddy” Gillespie, Robert Welch excitingly entertained the capacity audience with amazing behind-the-scenes film clips, stills, paperwork, and anecdotes about how the screen sorcery of OZ was achieved by Buddy – head of the M-G-M Special Effects Department across five decades. His creations (and those of his staff) were all invented, devised, and produced, employing chicken wire, muslin, crayon matte paintings, flash powder, rear projection, real smoke and fire, elevator platforms, miniature sets, and assorted other (literally) handmade constructions. All of this still-astounding visual wizardry, mind you, occurred many years before CGI (computer generated imagery) was barely a dream. Robert shared his grandfather’s accomplishments with elan, knowledgeability, and energetic humor.

Another OZ-Strav! first-timer was living legend Irma Starr, whose handmade ceramic art creations are treasured and housed everywhere from museums and private collections to the White House and Smithsonian Institution. Irma’s Oz craftings were an overwhelming hit with the Chittenango crowds – including several Ozzy denizens who found themselves well represented:

This seems an appropriate moment for immediate homage to costume designer/ constructionist/“architect,” Shawn Ryan, whose gifts are everywhere apparent in the recreations seen here of the incomparable Oz characters. A simultaneous doff of a tin funnel (or any Oz-centric chapeau) to Jeffrey Lane Sadecky, who aided, abetted, and wrangled the Emerald Citizenry with Shawn, so that they were able to fulfill the expectations of the all-ages festival attendees. As noted, this took place on the turf (or in the neighborhood thereof!) where Frank Baum was born on May 15, 1856; it’s always fun to imagine how he might now react to seeing the individuals and oddities he discovered brought so vividly to life by Shawn and Jeffrey. (And huzzOZ, too, for Chittenango’s merry band of players, their superlative performing abilities, and their spot-on vocal “personations”!) Note: Jeffrey’s smiling out front in the photo below. In the background, Shawn’s more wary – as if he’s not sure he can trust either the pink or the green.

One person who is preeminently qualified to discourse on Frank and the Baum family is assuredly Gita Dorothy Morena, great-granddaughter of the “Royal Historian of Oz.” She fascinated the festival audience with remembrances of the impact he had (and continues to have) on her and her family. Gita was joined onstage by a current Royal Historian, Gabriel Gale, whose AGES OF OZ fantasy books and THE ART OF OZ pictorial history of Baum’s populace are currently delighting “children of all ages.” As with Frank himself, Gabe (at left below) is constantly asked by fans when they can expect another AGES OF OZ installment; Gita’s own writing was well-represented at OZ-Strav! by her THE WISDOM OF OZ, which grows from and reflects her own remarkable career as a psychoanalyst. (We’re all three laughing here during Friday night’s presentation, so I’m not sure which of us said something outrageous; there’s generally plenty enough of that blame to go around:)

Meanwhile, it wouldn’t be Oz without music, and after several years’ hiatus, Broadway and pop composer, lyricist, orchestrator, and arranger Steve Margoshes was back to share the status of his ongoing and happily anticipated project, NEW SONGS FROM OZ. The completion of the melodies and words (the latter built on characters and adventures from the original Oz Books) is envisioned for early summer 2025, and it’s hoped that the recorded works will debut at next year’s fest. (Steve is creating this new material in conjunction with Chittenango’s International L. Frank Baum and All Things Oz Historical Foundation; he poses here with longtime fest volunteer – and NEWS SONGS FROM OZ singer — Matthew Marc Baum)

The foregoing descriptions indicate only a percentage of the consistent joys at pretty much every festival turn. The aforementioned tenants of the “Celebrity Tent” were joined by a wondrous representation of other creatives in the traditional “Authors & Artists Alley” on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday afternoons, and the honor roll for 2024 included (from left, below) Alan Lindsay, Tom Hutchison, Amber R. Duell, Julienne La Fleur, Cory Leonardo, and Jordan Riley Swan:

A little way up Genesee Street, the All Things Oz Museum was customarily crowded all weekend, whether the kids, parents, grandparents, relatives, or friends opted for formal tours or just plain awe-struck browsing. One of the new displays was unveiled during the annual pre-fest Thursday evening reception for members of the All Things Oz Museum. (Visit the All Things Oz Museum on Facebook for further information.) Those who gathered viewed a biographical placard for Betty Ann Bruno, as well as her freshly framed appearance costume, crafted after the one she wore as a seven-year-old “MunchKid” in the 1939 MGM movie. The garb in the frame is the outfit she had made for herself to don during her first appearance in Chittenango two years ago. At 90, Betty Ann was beyond indefatigable, beyond graciousness, beyond joy; she returned last year, and we’d hoped for many more meetings to come. She passed, however, just two months after the 2023 festival, and her recreated Munchkin wardrobe from the movie was thereafter donated to the Museum by her husband, Craig Scheiner. He’d accompanied her to OZ-Strav! both years and seen the joy she brought to everyone — all the while, I think, also witnessing the pleasure and recognition the event brought her. Below, you’ll find the Betty Ann costume and poster, as well as a souvenir picture of the 2024 Museum festival window:

To attract tens of thousands of attendees each year, there are many other fascinations presented by the all-volunteer festival board and staff. The parade unquestionably takes pride of place, and the preponderance of rainbows never abates.

The special guests specifically ride forth as part of the joy-oz procession. In order below, you’ll find Jane (doing a fine impression of her father’s “Put ‘em up! Put ‘em up!” from the OZ motion picture); musician supreme Margoshes; “Royal Historian” Gale; Gita (actually photographed on Sunday in the act of waving a genuinely fond farewell to the Ozian adulators); and Robert. The latter also served as Grand Marshal of that aspect of the weekend:

Not at all incidentally: One of Robert’s many gracious contributions to the merriment was his sharing of a legitimate Academy Award “Oscar.” Fans were invited to “clutch” the statuette in true, enviable Hollywood fashion; the recommended $5 donation collected per picture (per family) was then donated by Robert to the All Things Oz Museum. (Incidentally, no one was turned away –donation or not.) Posing here is the gleeful and eminently worthy Marc Baum, currently secretary to the Baum/Oz Museum Foundation.

The festival’s yearly competitions once again inspired enormous interest. More than 30 books were presented to winners of (and participants in) the all-ages “Royal Historian” writing contest, and the costume contest saw virtually all THE WIZARD OF OZ characters on-hand in multiples! – plus Jack Pumpkinhead and others from Baum’s later books. Here, from left, are a Lollipop Guild member (and escort), Dorothy, the Wizard himself (accompanied by the traditional State Fair/Omaha balloon), the Cowardly Lion, another Dorothy, and Glinda the Good.

Popular and revered Buddy the Clown “inaugurated” a new area of fun on Saturday by setting up shop in Stickles Park at the head of the parade route. His antics delighted the audience, and he had Oz costume characters and diverse edible treats on hand to augment his own special theatrics.

And otherwise? Well (among everything else), people enjoyed a wide range of food, live music and performances, rides, vendors, craft booths, exhibits, Oz souvenirs and memorabilia, a mass of highly desirable items to attract bids across three different silent auctions (one per day), a Saturday pancake breakfast, and a “Munchkin Mile Fun Run” for kids and a “Toto’s Toddler Trot” for those even younger!

Before saluting the two surprises that wrapped up the weekend, I very much want to say a blanket thank-you: to the thousands who made everything worthwhile – to the village and populace of Chittenango and its environs – AND to the scores and scores of men and women of all ages who (as mentioned above) VOLUNTEER to plan, plot, assemble, oversee, and make possible each year’s Oz-Stravaganza®. A personal appreciation goes out to my current “ambassador,” Judy Thompson Waite, who trundles me from and to the airport (the latter at 3:30 a.m.), as well as everywhere else in between. Her company is nonpareil!

There was also fun “off-campus” across three days of promotional appearances for local media. Individually or semi-collectively, we special guests made appearances on two editions of the morning BRIDGE STREET television show; on Dinosaur radio with John Carucci; and then again onsite with John for a special half-hour podcast. Here’s the ever-trusting Carucci (second from the left), flanked by Welch, Lahr, and Fricke on the latter occasion:

And I also want to thank two genuinely splendid friends, whose companionship and audio/visual tech support bolstered me in action (this year and in ages past), through three days of meet-and-greet-and-autographing, as well as three stints of evening programming. This photograph shows them three weeks after the festival, but — as they put up the new photograph backing in the Museum — they’re obviously still giving their all for the . . . er, “C’Oz.” (Ouch . . . .) Anyway, I cherish you, Colton Baum and Connor Ball:

Finally, the weekend was capped by Sunday afternoon’s Grand Finale, which was made WICKED-ly splendid by two superior and virtual (or as we used to put it in my day, “by remote”!) surprise guests – exclusive to Oz-Stravaganza® this year. One of them is a Chittenango native, born and bred, and he grew up with the festival, meeting many of the MGM Munchkins when he was just a little “local-er.” He had a very good reason for not being present in-person; while we screened his pretaped video, Ryan Mac was onstage at the Gershwin Theatre in New York City where he’s appearing in Broadway’s WICKED eight times a week. He’s been featured as Fiyero both there and on the road, as well as working in the ensemble and playing and “covering” several other roles. Ry’s past participation in the festival and his hometown greeting were both much appreciated, and he ardently commented on the effects Oz has had on his life and career. He’s shown here in full WICKED regalia:

Not much could top that, but one final video clip managed it – to the max. Delivering his personal message to the Oz-Stravaganza® crowd (much as he did last year), we were gratified and proud to present the Oscar, Grammy, and special Tony Award-winning composer/lyricist Stephen Schwartz, whose songs in WICKED first began delighting theater audiences all over the world more than two decades ago. His “live” appearance at OZ-Strav! in 2018 is still regarded as the pinnacle of entertainment, and his 2024 video was a genuine and warming “wave” to all . . . while reminding us that the WICKED movie (Part One) opens in November!

If all of the foregoing doesn’t convey the Ozziness, glee, and fellowship, I guess all I can offer is the traditional “I guess you had to be there!” 😊

And THAT comes by way of saying that Oz-Stravaganza® 2025 is set and scheduled for June 6th-8th. Next year marks the 50th anniversary of the original Broadway production of THE WIZ – and we’ll also be midway between the theatrical releases of the WICKED motion picture, Part One and Part Two. Meanwhile, there’s a whole lot of other Oz news currently percolatin’, and we hope that’ll be sharable by next year at this time.

So please mark those calendars, prep the ruby slippers or the silver shoes, and plan to “ease on down the” Yellow Brick Road(s) that permeate Chittenango, NY – where L. Frank Baum and (as a result) OZ all began!

Many thanks, as ever, for reading!

——-

P.S. The photos shown above were taken and provided by CaraMariePhotography (Official Oz-Stravaganza! Photographer) and – alphabetically! — Marc Baum, Carol Fargo, Julie Groder, Lindsay Morgan-Arnold, and Leah Schriber. My heartfelt gratitude to them for so-immortalizing this year’s great, good fun — and magic. 😊

P.P.S. Okay . . . one more picture, because it’s my personal favorite. Several of us bozos (!) do our best to grab a photographic souvenir every year. These kids are people who travel miles and miles to volunteer, to aid, and to “play Oz,” and they are marvelous personal and professional constituents. This year, it took us until the wrap party on Sunday night to all be in the same place at the same time — and find a leisure moment — but here we all are, with my heart à them. (From left: Julie Groder, Louis Berrillo, Lindsay Morgan-Arnold, yours truly, and Leah Schriber!)

“L. Frank-ly, My Dear, We WILL Give a Fest!”

by John Fricke

Above: This line drawing of Dorothy Gale – as created by W. W. Denslow for the first edition of L. Frank Baum’s THE WONDERFUL WIZARD OF OZ (1900) – welcomes you to the longest-running, most widely-attended, and (arguably) most jubilant annual event of its kind: OZ-STRAVAGANZA! The picture’s been doctored up a bit for its use here, but read on below, and you’ll find out why.

Given the paraphrased title of this month’s blog, may I remind you that this year marks the 85th anniversary of THAT film, too . . . . 😊

However, there’ll be no further homage to GONE WITH THE WIND! We’re all about ALL THINGS OZ, and we’re here to herald and celebrate both the 85th anniversary of Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer’s THE WIZARD OF OZ movie, as well as the forty-seventh annual OZ-STRAVAGANZA! festival in author L. Frank Baum’s birthplace.  Or to put it more simply, The Place To Be from Friday afternoon, May 31st through Sunday afternoon, June 2nd is Chittenango, NY. (Turn right at Syracuse. 😊 )

In our efforts to combine Baum OZ and MGM OZ, we’ve seen to it that the vintage Dorothy above has momentarily switched out the silver shoes of the first Oz book for the later ruby slippers of “that film.” But there’s much more that you need to know, so on with the show – and “Hey, leader, strike up the band!”

And what do you want to hear? There are numerous commemorative choices, as referenced in the series of forty “official” Oz Books. (Baum himself wrote the first fourteen of those, and six other authors carried on after his passing.) Anyway, what’ll it be? You can select “The Oz Spangled Banner,” “Oz and Ozma Forever,” “What is Oz Without Ozma?,” “The Grand March of Oz,” “The Land of Oz Forever,” or “I’ll Sing a Song of Ozland.”  Or maybe you’ll opt for such Hollywood and Broadway compositions as “The Merry Old Land of Oz,” “The Rainbow Road to Oz,” “Follow the Yellow Brick Road”/“We’re Off to See the Wizard,” “Ease On Down the Road,” or the incomparable “Over the Rainbow.”

I reference all of these, as it seems there ought to be bells, whistles, sirens, and a whole lot of music to honor America’s Own Fairyland – especially when one considers its world-widespread popularity and fame. Beyond the Judy Garland WIZARD OF OZ movie and the Oz books, Baum’s characters, countries, and stories have inspired such additional entertainments as THE WIZ (right now and once again on Broadway), WICKED (now in its twenty-first consecutive year on Broadway – and soon to be seen in a multi-million dollar, two-film screen adaptation; part one opens at Thanksgiving), OZ THE GREAT AND POWERFUL, RETURN TO OZ, JOURNEY BACK TO OZ . . . and on and on to new books, new products, cartoons, TV programs, and diverse events and merchandise of all types.

And then there’s – to return once more and however gently to the “commercial” – OZ-STRAVAGANZA! You can see examples of (and history about) all the projects referenced above at Chittenango’s ALL THINGS OZ Museum, open for special hours across the three days of the festival:

The wealth of emerald green and Munchkin magic actually permeates the whole town during OZ-STRAV! weekend. There’s a real Yellow Brick Road bordering Genesee Street. There’s the 2 p.m. parade on Saturday. There’s the cOZtume contest and the writing contest. In centrally located Oz Park, there’ll be rides and vendors and food and crafts and Oz memorabilia and three special silent auctions (one on each day). There’s free live music and entertainment across all three days – and (ditto!) free meet-and-greet (and-pose-and-snap) moments with some of the most recognizable characters in history. They’re shown here with Shawn Ryan – kneeling left, in the hat — who designed their costumes, and Jeffrey Lane Sadecky, their convivial and consummate wrangler:

And for the Ozians, Ozites, Ozzys, Ozmites, collectors, historians, fans, entertainment seekers, and the just plain pop-culture-curious, there’s the free Celebrity Tent, where the OZ-STRAV! special guests will hold forth for autographs and pictures every afternoon. Additionally, and free-of-charge, they’ll also be part of special interviews and presentations on Friday and Saturday evening at 6 p.m. at the First Presbyterian Church, immediately adjacent to Oz Park. 

Finally, it’s a pleasure to outline here the dazzling line-up of Oz luminaries. We have two guests who will specifically acclaim THE WIZARD OF OZ movie, which first premiered eighty-five years ago this summer. One is the preeminent book editor, packager, and writer Jane Lahr – and if her last name sounds familiar . . .  it should! She’s the daughter of the movie’s one-and-only Cowardly Lion, the unforgettable Bert Lahr himself:

Jane’s recollections of her incomparable father have to be heard to be fully experienced – and the same may be said about Robert Welch, who comes with memories and multiple visual examples of the OZ work of his grandfather, A. Arnold “Buddy” Gillespie. Buddy was, for decades, the genius (and there’s no other word for it) behind the MGM special effects department, and he and his coworkers created all the magic of Oz for the screen – long before there was CGI or AI or anything else other than makin’-it-up-out-of-imagination-and trial-and-error-and-actual-physical-properties:

Want to know about the full-size monkeys? the miniature rubber monkeys? the thirty-five-foot-long tornado? Robert will tell all about these accomplishments (and more!) in his very first appearance at an Oz Festival.

Yet Jane and Robert are just the beginning. Gracing the Celebrity Tent and stage with them is Gita Dorothy Morena, great-granddaughter of L. Frank Baum — THE WIZARD OF OZ author himself. Her family reminiscences and insights are drawn from her own revered career as an author, lecturer, and psychoanalyst:

Another first-time visitor to Chittenango is the supreme artist, Irma Starr, whose achievement in ceramic art, commemorative plates, decorative ornaments, jewelry, and figurines is renowned.  Irma has been commissioned to “create” for private collectors, corporations, the White House, and the Smithsonian Institute; the fact that her work includes Oz imaging makes her an ideal OZ-Stravaganza! guest:

Returning after a few years’ absence (and MOST welcome) is Broadway songwriter, arranger, and orchestrator Steve Margoshes. (Some of his work is presently being heard on the Great White Way in this season’s revival of THE WHO’S TOMMY.) For the past decade, Steve has been composing and assembling an original “Oz Song Cycle,” drawn from the fabled books and combining his own inspired gifts with their fantasy, whimsy, joy, and philosophies. He’ll debut and reprise some of this work for program attendees.

Finally, we two resident hambones (I say this affectionately about him and honestly about me) will be on-hand as well! Gabriel Gale is the conceptualizer of the AGES OF OZ novels for middle-school students (and children of all ages), as well as the wondrous talent behind the beautiful THE ART OF OZ coffee-table book. The latter, published three years ago, showcases his own inventive, exciting portraits of citizens of Baum’s Oz and “Borderland of Oz” titles. (Additionally, THE ART OF OZ juxtaposes the Gale drawings with those by Denslow and John R. Neill from the original editions of Baum’s work.) Gratefully and proudly, I’ll add that I was selected to write the text for Gabe’s book, adding that title to the seven others I’ve been privileged to do about the OZ movie, Judy Garland, and the greater Oz franchise in the past thirty-five years:

In addition to comments about our current projects – separately and together – I can tell you that Gabe has just returned from Hollywood and will also share advance and special news about the forthcoming WICKED movie.

[Please note: Once again, the Friday and Saturday presentations begin at 6 p.m. On Friday, the rundown includes Gita Dorothy Morena and Robert Welch; on Saturday, the speakers will be Steve Margoshes, Gabriel Gale, and Jane Lahr. I’ll be the master-of-ceremonies and sometime interviewer on both occasions.]

And – believe it or not! – the 1,300+ words through which you’ve just read offer only the lightest touch of the hours and hours of magic and fun awaiting every generation at OZ-Stravaganza! The Celebrity Tent will also boast the presence of other writers, illustrators, and creators who carry on the legends, myths – and realities! – discovered by Baum and his associates. This year, we welcome:

Also, for the first time this year, Stickles Park – at the head of Chittenango’s Saturday parade route – will open at 10 a.m. that day with diverse food treats, special entertainment, and costumed characters on hand. It’s the perfect way to launch “a day in Oz”!

I reiterate — with no sense of exaggeration but with hopefully pardonable exhilaration – that if you’re seeking “The Land of Oz” from May 31st – June 2nd, we’ll have it for you in Chittenango, NY. As ever, we anticipate the pleasure and exhilaration of YOUR company.

Many thanks for reading – and as I can’t possibly do justice to all of it here, please check www.oz-stravaganza.com for the complete OZ-Stravaganza! schedule!

Gratefully and happily, as ever,
John

“ILL-OZ-STRATIONS” — DIVERSIFIED! Part Two

by John Fricke

Above: In 1956, Reilly & Lee – then the sole publishers of the entire Oz Book Series except for THE WIZARD OF OZ — was finally able to add that title to their roster. Dale Ulrey did the illustrations for the new edition, and these were initially offered in black and red. Across the next nine years, the book went through additional printings, and the interior palette expanded into black and yellow, blue, and green, as well. (We’ve selected Ms. Ulrey’s drawings from a later print run for this blog to emphasize more of a “rainbow road to Oz.”) Just above, you’ll see her full-color, front-cover dust jacket for the Reilly & Lee THE WIZARD OF OZ, which was utilized for the first three years of its publication. She depicts the title character as a somewhat portlier gentleman than did her predecessors, W. W. Denslow and John R. Neill.

A bit of background to begin! Part One of this two-part series may be found by simply scrolling down past this entry; therein discussed are some of the early artists who pictured L. Frank Baum’s book, THE WIZARD OF OZ. There were comparatively few such illustrators, however; from its initial publication as THE WONDERFUL WIZARD OF OZ in 1900 – and through 1943 — the predominant editions of the story used and/or adapted the original pictures done by William Wallace (W. W.) Denslow for its first release at the turn of the twentieth century.

Evelyn Copelman’s drawings completely supplanted these in 1944, and although a handful of other artists supplied pictures for abridgements and picture books of THE WIZARD OF OZ between 1939 and 1956, her work remained in print for decades. The copyright expired on THE WIZARD OF OZ text in that latter year, however, and a flock of new versions of OZ – whether in complete or abbreviated format — hit the market. As a result, diverse artists were given the opportunity to “compete” with Copelman and supply their own variations of Baum’s characters and concepts.

The new “public domain” status of THE WIZARD OF OZ was particularly important to The Reilly & Lee Company of Chicago. They – or their predecessor, Reilly & Britton – had published all of the other titles in the official Oz series from 1904 through 1951: thirty-eight books in all. Now, in 1956, they could finally add Baum’s preeminent classic to their list, and they immediately thought in terms of a more contemporary appearance for the publication itself.

They’d actually begun considering such modernization for the series a year or more earlier. To that end, a bright and gifted graphic artist, Dale Ulrey, was selected to re-illustrate Baum’s 1918 book, THE TIN WOODMAN OF OZ, for publication in 1955. (History has it that the Reilly & Lee stock of TIN WOODMAN was running low at the time, and rather than merely reprint the title, the company rationalized that updating its appearance might make of it an experimental test case.) The Ulrey TIN WOODMAN also featured a new interior layout and fresh typesetting – “New Plates Throughout!” as Reilly & Lee trumpeted in its jacket copy — and the Ulrey style, both charming and attractive, was worthy of the new adaptation. Ms. Ulrey maintained the energy of John R. Neill’s original illustrations, emphasized the personalities (comical and otherwise) of the familiar Ozians, and re-cast Dorothy’s image as that of a sweet and sunshiny child of the 1950s.

(It should be noted that — in addition to THE TIN WOODMAN OF OZ — Ulrey had also worked on an earlier Baum project for the publishers, providing art for an edition of his JAGLON AND THE TIGER FAIRIES.  This 1953 storybook was adapted from one of the writer’s “Animal Fairy Tales,” as published across nine months in THE DELINEATOR magazine, January through September 1905.)

All in all — and especially after her work on THE TIN WOODMAN – Dale Ulrey was a logical pictorial “select” for Reilly & Lee’s initial printing of THE WIZARD OF OZ. It’s also interesting to note that, at this point in history, Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer’s classic THE WIZARD OF OZ motion picture had enjoyed theatrical releases in 1939, 1949, and 1955 but had not yet begun its virtually annual, national television appearances. This meant that Ulrey didn’t have to worry about fulfilling many expectations of her reading audience in terms of any deeply implanted “movie” visuals of Ozzy citizens or terrain.

That being said . . . ! Whether or not Ms. Ulrey meant to imply that the wafting wagon and other detritus shown here — mid-funnel — would filmically float by Dorothy’s window is unknown. But one of her first dominant images for the new 1956 edition of THE WIZARD was this vivid, energized depiction of the little girl’s transportation to Oz:

As a graphic artist, Dale Ulrey was best known “in the industry” for her years of drawing such popular, long-running newspaper comic strips as MARY WORTH. That character – if suitably Ozified – might have made a potential lookalike for Baum’s Good Witch of the North. As shown here, however, the illustrator opted out of any such temptation, and the mature sorceress, however unintentionally, seems more a semi-ringer for actress Agnes Moorehead. (This was four years before Ms. Moorehead would play a cranky, Cockney Mombi in the NBC-TV adaptation of Baum’s THE [MARVELOUS] LAND OF OZ to launch THE SHIRLEY TEMPLE SHOW in 1960 – and eight years before the actress would find eternal familiarity and fame as the elegant, sophisticated, and sometimes spiteful Endora on ABC-TV’s BEWITCHED.) Meanwhile, the Munchkins remain unembellished and true to Baum’s descriptions:

In much of her approach to THE WIZARD OF OZ assignment, Ulrey was judicious in continuing the predominant visions of Neill, who’d done the pictures for thirty-four of the preceding books in the series. Prior to that, Denslow had contributed a basic architectural template of a typical Oz house, but Neill had embellished it, and Ulrey substantiated his tradition as she showed Dorothy and Toto during their first day’s journey down the Yellow Brick Road.

Ulrey’s splendid interpretations continued as Dorothy and Toto met their three incomparable companions:

Although Baum never gives the child’s age in his text, Dorothy had been drawn by Denslow as a six- or seven-year-old with brown braids. Neill, in turn, had then given the Oz heroine a shorter, blonde style throughout his thirty-eight year tenure as artist, and Ulrey followed suit. This gave the ingenue’s appearance a happy and logical resemblance to the girl familiar to readers of all of the rest of Reilly & Lee’s Oz Book Series.

The Poppy Field sequence of THE WIZARD saw three of our five protagonists succumb to the potent power of the floral aroma. Ulrey then captured, in excellent fashion, Baum’s detailed description of the rescue of the Cowardly Lion from the deadly poison – on a Tin Woodman-built cart pulled by thousands of field mice. (The idea that that poppies would be neutralized by a snowstorm sent by the Good Witch of the North was first implemented in the 1902 stage musical of THE WIZARD OF OZ and further adapted by MGM for their film, thirty-six years later.)

Following Baum’s textual cues, Ulrey presented Dorothy in her new Emerald City dress when the child went for her first, private audience with the Wizard; the latter, of course, presented himself as “an enormous Head.” The artist also provided an interesting point of view when — a chapter later — she offered the moment the Winged Monkeys arrived with the girl and her dog as their prisoners in the Winkie Country, presenting them to the anticipatory Wicked Witch of the West.

There was additional and ongoing loyalty to Baumian detail when Ulrey chose to recreate the moment that the “Great and Terrible” humbug found himself revealed to Dorothy & Co. In an attempt to frighten the Wizard into granting their requests – and per the book’s written passage — “the Lion . . . gave a large, loud roar . . . so fierce and dreadful that Toto jumped away from him in alarm and tipped over [a] screen that stood in the corner.” There, the five travelers “saw . . . a little old man, with a bald head and a wrinkled face . . . The Tin Woodman, raising his axe, rushed toward the little man and cried out, ‘Who are you?’”

It’s a reasonably well-known fact that MGM both departed from and added to Baum’s plot line in numerous cinematic ways – yet they remained true to the author’s intent in a number of others. As Dorothy prepared to leave for Kansas with the Wizard, “Toto had run into the crowd to bark at a kitten, and Dorothy at last . . . picked him up and ran toward the balloon. She was within a few steps of it, and Oz was holding out his hands to help her . . . when, crack! went the ropes, and the balloon rose into the air without her.” Ulrey maintained the same loyalty to the Royal Historian in sharing this moment of the saga:

The final adventures undergone by our friends are equally faithfully represented by Ulrey. She portrays each of the four challenges they met during their trek to the Quadling Country to seek aid from the Good Witch of the South: the fighting trees, the Dainty China Country, the giant spider monster, and the fractious, armless, telescopic-necked Hammer-Heads:

Finally, when the palace of Glinda the Good is ultimately reached, the famed Sorceress of the South proves to be as lovely as Baum’s description — and Ulrey’s portraiture:

For the last chapter, last page, and last Ulrey illustration, Reilly & Lee – and most probably unintentionally – parroted a THE WIZARD OF OZ art concept that dated back to Denslow and the 1900 first edition. Therein, that remarkable artisan often melded his line drawings with the book text: overlapping, underpinning, or just plain enhancing the awe-inspiring nature of his style and approach.  (Of course, it’s just an imaginative indication of my age that Aunt Em is pictured here by Ulrey as a much more bucolic Mary Worth . . ..  😊 )

While there’s no disputing the inherent entertainment in — and pictorial beauty of — Ulrey’s work in THE WIZARD OF OZ, the public response to it and the redrawn THE TIN WOODMAN OF OZ (for all its own splendor) weren’t readily accepted by the public. Their response to such illustrative updating was quiet rejection, and when Reilly & Lee brought out the gloriously re-presented and manufactured “White Editions” of Baum’s fourteen Oz stories in 1964-65, they reinstated Neill’s art in TIN WOODMAN and replaced Ulrey’s work in THE WIZARD with adaptations of Denslow’s original pictures.

Still, there are tens of thousands of children (or more) who grew up in the decade between 1955-65 – or who later inherited copies of those two titles – and who maintain fond recollections of what Dale Ulrey contributed to the history of Oz publication. Her obvious dedication to her assignment provided art that was unquestionably entrancing, exciting, magical, and appealing – adjectives that happily and indubitably apply as well to Baum’s topography, terrain, and types of characters.

It’s a privilege to celebrate and share some of those drawings here!

“ILL-OZ-STRATIONS” — DIVERSIFIED! Part One

By John Fricke

Above: This color plate was one of many drawings by Evelyn Copelman, who was hired by The Bobbs-Merrill Co. to illustrate a new edition of THE WIZARD OF OZ in 1944. Although her work was described on the book’s title page as “Adapted from the Famous Pictures by W. W. Denslow,” many of Copelman’s characterizations and backgrounds were seemingly inspired by images recently familiar to the public from the Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer/Judy Garland OZ film, released five years earlier. This is worth noting, because — apart from a few separately licensed and minor retellings of the story — the 1944 Bobbs/Baum/Copelman edition marked the VERY first time since 1900 that the full-length WIZARD OF OZ novel appeared without its original, much-embraced Denslow pictures — once heralded as inseparable from the text. Additionally, that 1944 publication would informally mark the beginning of an endless onslaught of fascinating — it’s the safest word! — representations of Oz by an uncountable number of creative, imaginative, limitlessly gifted, and sometimes overwhelmingly innovative artisans.

Even occasional visitors to these blogs – or to Oz in general – will recognize the name William Wallace [W. W.] Denslow. It was his dazzling color pictures, artful book design, and character and setting concepts that helped make L. Frank Baum’s THE WONDERFUL WIZARD OF OZ the best-selling children’s book of 1900. For more than four decades, the vast majority of WIZARD OF OZ editions continued the Baum/Denslow amalgamation, although as twentieth century publishing grew more cost-effective across those years, much of Denslow’s work lost varying degrees of color. Additionally, many of the plates themselves were dropped, along with much of his interior art and motifs.

Yet the reading (and read-to) OZ audiences of all ages generally — and in many cases,

exclusively — knew Dorothy and her friends from Denslow’s visual interpretations. In the Denslow color plate below (from a reprint of the 1900 volume), the famous foursome – and Toto, too! — are hospitably hosted for dinner in a family’s home just outside the Emerald City:

Yet by the late 1930s, Denslow’s unique standing as the singular graphic adjunct to the pages of THE WIZARD OF OZ story was about to be challenged — and then eliminated. Today, we (gratefully) live at a time when facsimiles of the very first edition of THE WIZARD OF OZ (with Denslow in excelsis) are once again eminently available. Any artistic loss has thus been corrected. Conversely, there also has been an enormous benefit in the fact that Denslow WAS supplanted – for diverse reasons to be revealed. His displacement ultimately led to the innumerable, joyous, different (and apparently ceaseless) visualizations of Oz by others during the last eighty-plus years.

On behalf of the All Things Oz Museum, this brief new blog series will touch on some of the earliest “re-illustrations” of Baum’s masterwork. Yes, it’s history – but we thought it would be the perfect justification for mentioning the facts and then getting out of the way so as to share lovely and/or curious pictures!

Admittedly, there had been a few interpretations of THE WIZARD OF OZ adventures drawn by others even before Denslow’s art was completely dropped from the book. In 1939-40, separately licensed adaptations or abridgements of the story appeared in North America — and beyond — in conjunction with the debut of the Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer/Judy Garland musical movie. MGM’s copyright on their special treatments of the characters, storyline, and settings, however, meant that the new illustrators had to determine their own pictorial approach to the Girl from Kansas & Company. Grosset & Dunlap issued a brief, board-bound retelling of the Baum tale for which he received the author credit; no other writer is referenced. Oscar Lebeck, however, is cited for pictures, many of them in full color. Here is his cover design and a fanciful view of the Winkies at work to restore the Scarecrow and Tin Woodman after their devastation by the Winged Monkeys. The fact that there are seven little men here need not be interpreted as a private homage to Walt Disney’s 1937 success, SNOW WHITE AND THE SEVEN DWARFS. (And yet . . . ! 😊 )

There was also a Whitman Publishing Company paint book, with H. E. Vallely’s cover definitely and only semi-discreetly inspired by MGM stills of Ray Bolger as the Scarecrow and Jack Haley

as the Tin Woodman. The interior captions and art, however, followed Baum’s text with more originality.

Bobbs-Merrill themselves issued this very brief, ten-page picture book, with art by Percy Leason and a linen-like finish:

Meanwhile, there were other storybooks and coloring books. Bobbs-Merrill adapted its regular edition of the full text by adding film stills to its endpapers; some of Denslow art appeared in the interior, as well. British versions took a similar approach, and there were also foreign language imprints, at least one of which told the movie story — Miss Gulch and all!

These were, of course, of their specific time, and once the MGM film had run its full course of theaters, Bobbs-Merrill went back to business as usual. Their standard edition of THE WIZARD OF OZ in the early 1940s continued to offer all of Baum’s words and increasingly minimized glimpses of Denslow — until 1944. As noted with the picture and caption at the top of this blog, that’s when the publishers brought in a new but accomplished talent in Evelyn Copelman to re-picture the full WIZARD OF OZ book, completely eliminating all of Denslow’s work. (His stunning designs wouldn’t be seen again in their entirety until a marvelous paperback effort by Dover Publications in 1960.)

Copelman proved masterful in updating and remodeling, both in her color and black-and-white art. Although she later denied that the MGM film had influenced her approach (and she may have been legally obligated to do so), there are obvious overtones, as can be seen here in two of her plates and one of her interior visuals. The multihued gathering of the gang just below and the portrait two pictures past that offer a Scarecrow easily perceived in characteristic Bolger-like poses or attitudes. Additionally, the Wizard here is diplomatically Frank Morgan in both stance and appearance, and Dorothy is a little-girl Garland. The middle of these three Copelman pieces is enhanced by a Margaret Hamilton-green, two-eyed Wicked Witch of the West (unlike the Baum-described, non-color specific, but one-eyed creature). Her castle staircase and chandelier are straight out of MGM’s scenic department in Culver City as well.

The 1949 theatrical reissue of the MGM film led to another spate of WIZARD OF OZ abridgements. Though far from the number of editions that appeared a decade prior, the new

crop included versions that remained “in print” well into the 1950s and even beyond.

In 1950, Random House brought in Allen Chaffee to abbreviate Baum’s story for an excellent picture book, illustrated by Anton Loeb in artwork that was detailed, accessible, and appealing to youngsters. As can be seen below, the cover was emblazoned “For Ages 5 to 9”; also shown is the artist’s atmospheric conception of the travelers as they “keep to the West, where the sun sets” in their attempt to find and destroy the Wicked Witch.

In addition to the Random House volume, Bobbs-Merrill also licensed an adaptation of THE WIZARD for the popular Wonder Books series in 1951. The perky, full-color art was drawn by Tom Sinnickson; here’s his cover design (with Dorothy ever more a little girl of the era) and a glowing view of the first part of “journey achieved” for our friends:

Then, in 1956, all Oz broke loose. So to speak.

Not only did the MGM film receive its first, sensationally received and top-rated, coast-to-coast CBS telecast, but the copyright expired on THE WIZARD OF OZ book. This meant that any publisher anywhere could bring out an edition of Baum’s story, whether word-for-word or condensed. No licensing needed to be done, and residuals were no longer payable to the Baum heirs. (An important note: The MGM film script, its new characters, and its revisions remained under copyright in 1956 and do so to this day. Thus, no one can release a book that retells the movie story; portrays Miss Gulch, Professor Marvel, or the farmhands; places Dorothy in ruby slippers – and etc.)

In 1956, however, THE WIZARD OF OZ became fair game at publishing houses throughout the land. Grosset & Dunlap rehired Evelyn Copelman to add extra images to those she’d done a dozen years earlier and produced three new editions of THE WIZARD in varying degrees of “luxe.” Whitman, whose (if memory serves!) fifty-nine cent editions of classics were then rampant in dime stores throughout the land, also put out the full Baum text in 1957, bound in glossy boards and with brand new art throughout by Russell H. Schulz. As the latter drew Dorothy for his color cover, she sported a sort of mouseketeer-styled Annette Funicello “do.” She returned to her braided self a moment later on the endpapers and in the rest of the Schulz pictures:

A year later, Scholastic Book Services jumped into the fray with a paperback version eventually uber-familiar to a couple of decades of children who eagerly anticipated their elementary school’s annual “book fair.” (Those were the days!) Scores of titles would be on display, whether “in person” or in a catalog; all were available to order from Scholastic at vastly reasonable prices. Paul Granger did their OZ cover (below), and his sketchy but evocative blank-and-white pictures dotted the text. In the art below the cover here, Dorothy’s friends are shown during the rare moment of their final farewell as she actually begins her flight home to Kansas:

One of the more sumptuous, “quick-to-take-advantage-of-its public domain status” editions of THE WIZARD OF OZ was published as IL MAGO DI OZ in Milan in 1957. Per the April 1962 issue of THE BAUM BUGLE – magazine of The International Wizard of Oz Club, Inc. (ozclub.org) – it was translated into Italian by Emma Saracchi “and beautifully illustrated in color by Maraja. The publishers were Fratelli Fabbri Editori . . .. The next year, this version was issued, with English text, simultaneously in England (W. H. Allen) and the United States (Grosset & Dunlap).” It also appeared in French in 1959 as LE MAGICIEN D’OZ.

Such world-wide appeal speaks not only of Baum’s timeless, ageless, boundary-less story but also of Maraja’s art: bright, gorgeously and richly rendered, yet delicate and singular. Below, you’ll see (from top): a) The 1958-59 cover picture. b) The fivesome as they listen to the confession of the Great & Powerful Humbug; Dorothy appears to be channeling the visage of a sort of blonde Pippi Longstocking. c) The age-appropriate Good Witch of the North as she balances her hat on her nose; it’s about to turn into a slate on which the directive is written, “LET DOROTHY GO TO THE CITY OF EMERALDS.” d) A blue-garbed Munchkin in front of his blue-garbed home, paying homage to the girl who has liberated his country from the Wicked Witch of the East.  e) That touching overnight moment en route to the Emerald City when the Scarecrow – after filling Dorothy’s basket with nuts from the nearby trees to help stave off her hunger – keeps “a good distance away from the flames, and only [comes] near to cover Dorothy with dry leaves [to] keep her snug and warm.” And f) What may well be the all-time amalgamation of Glinda as a slinky, sloe-eyed, seductive sophisticate: the Scarlett O’Hara of the Quadling Country!

By now, you’ve gotten the idea. Denslow started it all and reigned pictorially supreme in terms

of THE WIZARD OF OZ book – until fate stepped in, as these examples have shown. There were others in the late 1950s, of course, and as the annual film telecasts kicked off in 1959 and extended deep into the 1990s, incalculable different editions attempted to sate the public reading appetite. They, too, were often augmented by clever, beauteous, bizarre, funny, weird, superb pictures.

There’s one more point to be made and one more 1956 edition to be referenced. From 1903-1956, Bobbs-Merrill had held ONLY the copyright on THE WIZARD OF OZ book. There were, as of 1951, THIRTY-EIGHT OTHER FULL-LENGTH OZ BOOKS, published by Reilly & Britton (or, later, Reilly & Lee). In terms of variety, they basically defined the Oz marketplace and had done so since Baum began to continue the series in 1904. After he passed in 1919, the saga was continued by Ruth Plumly Thompson, John R. Neill, Jack Snow, and Rachel Cosgrove. Neill also illustrated all but three of those sequels; as a result, his work was even more deeply associated with Oz than that of Denslow.

Thus, it was a major event for Reilly & Lee and their audience: In 1956, they could finally top off AND head up their list of Oz titles with THE WIZARD OF OZ — champion of them all. Neill had died in 1943, however, so they had to ponder the question of an illustrator to take on such an important job as picturing their own “official” version of THE WIZARD OF OZ. Fortunately, they knew of someone both appropriate and already well-schooled. A year earlier, they’d hired Dale Ulrey to draw new pictures for Baum’s 1918 title, THE TIN WOODMAN OF OZ. This came about because Reilly & Lee wanted to “test the waters” in terms of updating the look of the Oz series; THE TIN WOODMAN was selected as the test case. Ulrey’s drawings thus went into a refashioned 1955 reprint, and Neill’s art was abandoned.

Ms. Ulrey did a sleek and vivid job with THE TIN WOODMAN OF OZ, and she quickly accepted the assignment to picture THE WIZARD. After all, she had just learned to align the famous Neill characters with a mid-1950s modernity. She had just depicted Dorothy as a blonde, in keeping with the girl’s hair color and style in every “official” Oz book in which she appeared post-Denslow – and Ulrey had also proved capable of contemporizing the little girl while maintaining her classic qualities. And as noted, the artist already proved that she knew how to draw many of the other legendary Ozians.

Here, as a teaser, is one of the first of her WIZARD OF OZ book drawings: the now baby-boomer Dot . . . and that wonderful (if somewhat portly) title character himself:

Thus, in 1956, Reilly & Lee finally published their own version of the first Oz book with pictures throughout by Dale Ulrey. Next month, we’ll pay tribute to those results . . . and reflect on what happened – and why. 😊

Thanks for being here – with all of these extraordinary artists!

“THE LITTLE PEOPLE WHO LIVE[D] IN THIS LAND” – CONCLUSION

By John Fricke

Above: The impact made by the 1989 coast-to-coast, fiftieth anniversary celebrations of THE WIZARD OF OZ was predicated on two factors: the undiminished glory of the film itself and the sudden public reappearances by Munchkins from the motion picture cast. Even more importantly, such joy continued, and — for more than twenty years thereafter — the however gradually-diminishing number of “little people” of OZ were ceremoniously feted at festivals, movie screenings, charity events, parades, tap dance competitions, lectures, and (as shown above) on the “Munchkin Cruise”! This week-long Caribbean sojourn featured (standing in back, from left:) Robert Baum, the great-grandson of OZ author L. Frank Baum; auditor-only Dotty Fricke (my mom!); and yours-truly-OZ-historian John Fricke. Seated across in front (from left): flowerpot-hatted dancer/Sleepyhead Margaret Pellegrini, soldier Clarence Swensen, first trumpeter/soldier Karl Slover, and Coroner Meinhardt Raabe. Clarence is one of those who are heralded in this month’s blog; six others – “MunchKid” Betty Ann Bruno, villager Ruth Duccini, Lollipop Guild mainstay Jerry Maren, and Margaret, Karl, and Meinhardt — have had blogs written about them in this series during 2023. Please scroll down beyond this entry to find those.

FOREWORD

In our August 26th entry for 2023 — posted on Chittenango’s All Things Oz and OZ-Stravaganza! Facebook pages (as well as on this blog site) — we celebrated the Oz festival of last June. The highlights of that weekend, of course, were provided by the song, dance, autographing-and-reminiscing participation of ninety-one-year-old Betty Ann Bruno, an original “MunchKid” from Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer’s 1939 feature film, THE WIZARD OF OZ. This was Betty Ann’s second annual visit to the upstate New York village where L. Frank Baum was born in 1856. Mr. Baum went on to write THE WONDERFUL WIZARD OF OZ (1900) and thirteen other Oz Books, and everybody involved in OZ-Stravaganza! (which has joyously honored him for more than four decades) happily anticipated that Betty Ann would make many return trips to his birthplace in the future.

Incidentally, for those unfamiliar with the terminology, it’s important to note here that the unofficially named “MunchKids” group was comprised of a dozen little girls from Hollywood dance schools who mostly “filled in” background spots on the MGM OZ set. Five, as of earlier this year, were still among us, although – as all are in their nineties – it was only Betty Ann who traveled.

Most unexpectedly, however, she herself passed away just a month after Chittenango’s forty-sixth festival. That shattering loss has since reminded me of other MGMunchkins, whose local appearances beginning in the late 1980s were much responsible for putting the village’s long-term Oz event on the map.

These men and women were among the approximately 124 “little people” (as they preferred to be called) who played in the film. More than five years have passed since we lost the last of them, and it’s been more than a decade since any were able to appear in Chittenango. Although I was regularly on site for the local festival beginning in 1990, I wasn’t writing a blog for All Things Oz at any point “back in the day[s]” of the Munchkins’ 1989-2012 era of participation. This past summer, when Betty Ann left us, it occurred to me that it was more than appropriate that this space now provide a means of remembering some of the others who preceded her in enthralling central New Yorkers, as well as Oz fans from all over the world who found their way to “Baum Country.” In this manner, we’re able to again celebrate their contributions, as we did those of Betty Ann in 2022 and 2023 blog entries.

In line with that concept, this space has — across the last five months — heralded Munchkins Ruth Duccini, Karl Slover, Meinhardt Raabe, Jerry Maren, and Margaret Pellegrini. Now we move on to reference a number of others – as well as the treasured Swensens and a certain Ms. Formica!

Above: You’ve heard, of course, of Alice in Wonderland. What we have here is Chaos in Munchkinland – and director Victor Fleming hasn’t even called “Action!” Please note that this between-takes image captures horses, carriage, a goodly percentage of actors, Fleming himself – just to the left of Judy Garland, “Glinda” Billie Burke (holding what appears to be her on-camera wand/staff), a technician just to the right of Ms. Burke (holding her alternate wand/staff, with a less ornate star at its peak), and a mass of other staff and technicians. Just to the right of center at the bottom of this photo, an inked-on arrow points to OZ assistant director Wallace Worsley, with his back to the still photographer.

IT’S GOING TO BE SO HARD TO SAY GOOD-BYE:

CLARENCE AND MYRNA AND FERN & COMPANY

In 1989, I was privileged to extensively travel the country to promote THE WIZARD OF OZ: THE OFFICIAL 50th ANNIVERSARY PICTORIAL HISTORY book (for which I served as principal writer), as well as the best-selling VHS tape of the film. (I was enlisted to help in that assemblage by MGM/UA Home Video.) In the process, I got to meet many Oz enthusiasts, collectors, and — among the best of all — a number of those who’d actually participated in the creation of the movie in 1938-39. 

More than thirty of the film’s Munchkins were still alive in 1989, although roughly half of them were unwilling (or too frail) to travel. During that year, however — and across a couple of subsequent seasons — upwards of fifteen of them gathered in Los Angeles, Minnesota, Indiana, and Kansas to publicly celebrate their “dual citizenship” in the United States and Oz. In the photograph below (taken in Chesterton, Indiana, circa 1990), I got to pose with the brilliant pop culture and Munchkin historian Steve Cox (top right) and uber-fan Richard Mikell (top center). Immediately in front of us (from left) are Munchkin-by-Marriage (hereinafter MBM) Fred Duccini, dancing villager Fern Formica, and soldier Lewis Croft. The next row shows just the hair of MBM Elizabeth Maren; she’s standing next to MBM Marie Raabe, villager Ruth Robinson Duccini, and coroner Meinhardt Raabe. Across the front are Lollipop Guild member Jerry Maren, dancing villager/Sleepyhead Margaret Pellegrini, and MBM Mary Ellen St. Aubin.

Another early-era festival photo – also 1990 — gathered a bunch of us in Liberal, KS. From left: Ruth Duccini, Marie and Meinhardt Raabe, Mrs. Lewis (Eva) Croft in the background, Fern Formica and Margaret Pellegrini in front of her (and draped over me; I did not have to manufacture that smile!), soldier Lewis Croft, soldier/villager Emil Kranzler and his MBM wife Marcella, and (again) Fred Duccini, Ruth’s husband. The tall lady in the back on the right is blessed Jean Nelson, who put her Chesterton, IN, Oz Festival on the radar by inviting soldier Pernell St. Aubin to appear there from 1982-1985 with his MBM wife, Mary Ellen.

Across the years, Oz events were graced – whether for one go-round or several — by Nita Krebs (tallest of the three “Lullaby League” ballerinas), villagers Betty Tanner and “Little Jeane” LaBarbera, and soldier Gus Wayne. There were other MBM guests, as well, notably Anna Mitchell, widow of villager Frank Cucksey, Olive (Mrs. Gus) Wayne, and Mary Ellen (Mrs. Pernell) St. Aubin. The latter was beamingly omnipresent for decades at Midwest Oz happenings and attended one of her final events at age 99 in 2019 in Tinley Park, Illinois. Several of the MunchKids also participated along the way, including (in her case, both early on and across these past two years) the beloved Betty Ann Bruno.

During the 1990s and early 2000s, Mickey Carroll was probably the most “controversial” of the surviving Munchkins. He became a semi-regular event attendee in 1989, but prior to that — and away from the watchful eyes of his fellow actors — he had been for years meeting and greeting fans and signing movie stills with the claim that he’d played the Munchkin Mayor (actually Charlie Becker), Coroner (the aforementioned Meinhardt Raabe), or appeared as a member of the Lollipop Guild trio. Once Mickey began festival jaunts with others, however, he had to pull way back on such declarations, although he then summoned up another series of odd pronouncements! His statements continue today in vintage video and print interviews and can be safely dismissed. Just for the record, however: He did not dub the soundtrack cries of Clara Blandick (Aunt Em) as she screeched “DORRR-THEEE!” during the tornado; he did not dub numerous singing voices of the Munchkins; he did not stay at Judy Garland’s house while appearing in the film; and he did not suggest to director Victor Fleming that the Munchkins skip as they sang “We’re Off to See the Wizard.”

But where credit is due, Mickey Carroll WAS a Munchkin solider; and one of the five little fiddlers who escorted Judy to the border of Munchkinland; and — in a purple-jacketed villager costume — he can be seen walking from left to right across the screen at the onset of the Munchkin musical number. (This appearance comes as the dubbed voices echo, “Kansas she says is the name of the star.”) So it was right and proper that Mickey joined six other surviving Ozians when “the little people who live in this land” received their star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame on November 20, 2007. In this picture, Mickey is posed at the far left; to his left: Clarence Swensen (more about him below!), Jerry, Karl, Ruthie, Margaret, and Meinhardt.

If Mickey was infamous for his voluble chicanery, he was also hallowed for a number of other qualities. Among such hallmarks: His indefatigable energy as he greeted and entertained fans, especially children; his ongoing kindness to (and care of) his disabled nephew; and – especially — for his heartwarming and generous gesture that will live on. In 1898, L. Frank Baum and his wife Maud were much saddened by the death of their five-month-old niece, Dorothy Louise Gage. Family history convincingly suggests that Baum then named the heroine of his book, THE WONDERFUL WIZARD OF OZ (1900) as a memorial to the child. Some nine decades later — after scrupulous research by preeminent history Sally Roesch Wagner — the much-weather-worn gravestone for the child was discovered in Evergreen Memorial Cemetery in Bloomington, Illinois. Mickey Carroll soon heard about this situation, and as his family had owned and operated a tombstone business in St. Louis for sixty years, he caringly donated a superb new headstone for the child, which was dedicated on May 31, 1997. The replacement marker states the Gage birth and death dates as they appear on the original stone; it was later confirmed that Dorothy Louise actually passed on November 15, 1898. Regardless, it’s thanks to MGM Munchkin Mickey Carroll that there is now a stunning remembrance of – as it plainly states – the “namesake of Dorothy In THE WIZARD OF OZ”:

Gus Wayne was one of nearly thirty little people who traveled by chartered bus to MGM in Culver City, California, from New York City in November 1938. Another of these bus pictures – taken as the Ozians-to-be assembled in Times Square before leaving town — was used here to accompany the blog about Jerry Maren a couple of months ago. This one, however, features future Munchkin soldier Gus as the first gentleman at left in the front row – and diminutive Jerry is the second traveler to his left. Both were just eighteen years old.

The bus contingent congregated at MGM on November 12, 1938 – with roughly one hundred additional Munchkinland actors – and work began in earnest. There were immediate rehearsals and costume measurements, followed by costume, hair, and make-up tests; these occupied the first month or more of their assignment. Actual filming of the “Munchkinland Musical Sequence” and scenes began in mid-December and continued for approximately two well-organized weeks. In this behind-the-scenes photograph, the massive Technicolor camera and its operator are swooping in from the left to capture the jubilant action:

Finally, we come to three special denizens of Oz: an unforgettable lady, a miraculous gentleman, and his own MBM: Fern Formica and Clarence and Myrna Swensen.

We lost Fern early on, but she was an extraordinary and dazzling personality. Once people on the “Oz Circuit” met her, she was invited EVERYwhere, although she was only able to enjoy such appearances until about 1992 or 1993. A life-long smoker, Fern had a wondrously deep voice and a wise, sparkling, sometimes sassy, sometimes flirtatious, always straight-from-the-shoulder (and heart) individuality. Her passion, compassion, and repartee were precious and treasurable, and she wholeheartedly embraced life, including her MGM past. She owned, operated, and taught from her own ceramic shop, turning out craft items that were certifiably “Munchkin-Maid-Made!” She was also the first of the reappearing Munchkins who had a duplicate of her OZ costume created to wear at events.

We used the photo just below in an earlier entry in this Munchkin series, but the version here is – as you’ll see – personally special. Beyond that, however, it also couldn’t be more appropriate. Fern autographed it during the first weekend we met, in Grand Rapids, Minnesota, at the Judy Garland Festival in June 1989, and she is the only really visible Munchkin on hand in the image! Enjoy her expression of caution and awe as she acts her way out of the bushes, harking to the command of Billie Burke/Glinda to “meet the young lady who fell from a star.”

This frame grab offers a happy Munchkinland moment. Billy Curtis is front and center as he carols out (again, with a dubbed voice), “And, oh! What happened then was rich!” Margaret Pellegrini (in the light blue flowerpot hat) is immediately to his left; Fern, in blue, is second to his right; and Betty Tanner (in brown) is to Fern’s right:

This rare photo of Munchkinland activity shows the actual filming of one “take” (or perhaps rehearsal) when the camera tracked down the line of little people, immediately after Billy’s line. This is just conjecture, but I think that might be Mickey Carroll in his striped top and purple coat, about four or five people from the top. Five or so Munchkins down the line from (maybe!) Mickey, it looks like little Margaret, facing Billy in his tall, tall hat. And if I’m wrong . . . I still like the thought! (If I’m right, Fern, and Margaret, and Betty have switched places since the preceding shot. 😊 )

I was always so pleased and grateful when I was able to share several of the OZ fiftieth anniversary events with my mom and dad. Wally Fricke was a lifelong movie fan; I first watched THE WIZARD OF OZ on a black-and-white TV, sitting on the floor at his feet. (Well, I did briefly crawl up into his lap when the Wicked Witch of the West sent the Winged Monkeys to the Haunted Forest to “Bring me that girl and her dog!,” but I was only five at the time.) This happened on November 3, 1956 – the movie’s initial nationwide telecast. From then on, both Wally and my mom, Dotty, were each other’s equal in supporting me in an instantly blooming passion for Oz and Judy Garland. That’s a whole other story of joy and caring and love, but they joined me in my excitement on many occasions. Here, in December 1989, mom and dad have gathered at St. Luke’s Christmas House for Cancer in Racine, Wisconsin, with Fern Formica, Margaret Pellegrini, the oldest Fricke son (that’s me!), and two local actors in costume. This was a long-time annual event in Racine: a different and appealing theme would be chosen each year (OZ was a natural in 1989), a vintage home was appropriately decorated, people paid to tour this unusual holiday locale, and the money went to a very fine cause. We were there to sign photos and books across several days.

And now . . . here’s to one of Nature’s Noblemen: Clarence Swensen — a marching Munchkin soldier of OZ. In 1938, he’d not yet met his wife-to-be, Myrna, but that’s because she and her parents (each of the three of them little people) were an MGM “no-show.” Though all had been offered roles in OZ, the family had been kept at home in Texas, thanks to Myrna’s emergency appendectomy; by the time she recovered, it was too late for them to make the trek to California. Fortunately, however, fate managed to align Clarence and Myrna back in Texas just a few years later.

If I’m correctly recalling the facts, Clarence was the first of the male Munchkins to have a replica costume made for his latter day Oz appearances. A dedicated fan created one for him, and he wore out a couple more – with pride! — as the years went by. Clarence and Myrna were glorious contributors to every festival and occasion, and after he died, she continued to be a delightedly welcome and honored guest, until her own health precluded attendance.

There are so many adjectives to ascribe to Clarence. He was appropriately affectionate and known for his hugs – yet he was always a gentleman of the old school: courtly, unfailingly polite, ever aware of what was going on around him, dignified — and jolly. (And if you’re thinking that’s a colossal package, you’d be right!)  When interviewed on stage and a request was made, he was delighted to leap up, in costume, and demonstrate the Munchkin soldier “goose-step” – at which, in his case, no one could take offense. Even better was a statement he used to make at the end of every Munchkin presentation. He would advance to the edge of the stage and say, with simplicity and sincerity: “I want to thank the public, because you made us what we are today.” (This photo typifies the warmth and glow of the Swensens – taken in Indiana circa 1994 or 1995.)

As noted, Margaret Pellegrini and Clarence were two of the Munchkins who presented themselves “in costume” at every event. The jolt of surprise and visible, tangible thrill this caused in audiences of all ages had to be seen — and felt — to be believed. As a result, and after many visits to Chittenango, both Margaret and Clarence wanted the All Things Oz Museum to possess one of each of their recreated ensembles. Here they are, now on permanent display among the other outstanding archival holdings in the central New York State village of Frank Baum’s birth.

What to say in conclusion – amidst all the memories, experiences, and gratitude? I could never express enough appreciation to all of the Munchkins referenced or pictured here, or in the preceding five blogs. They grew to trust me, which was a major point of pride. Over two decades, we arranged to travel and appear together whenever we could. Then, once we were “on location,” we’d sit up late or get up early — to eat or talk or both. In 2009, Jonathan Shirshekan and I invited Margaret Pellegrini to write the introduction for our seventieth anniversary book, THE WIZARD OF OZ: AN ILLUSTRATED COMPANION TO THE TIMELESS MOVIE CLASSIC. She kindly and beautifully summarized the association by offering, “[John] always sees that we’re looked after. He knows the questions to ask, so audiences hear our best stories. We finally made him an honorary Munchkin”!

As is shown by the Christmas House for Cancer photo above, the “miniature Metro mob” was also infinitely welcoming to my family — especially Ms. Pellegrini and the Swensens. I wasn’t even around for one of the most memorable of those occasions, when Margaret, Clarence, and Myrna were riding on the back of a flatbed truck in a suburban Milwaukee parade. They waved, nonstop, to streets lined with fans; among them were my mom, my sister-in-law, and my two youngest nieces, sitting in bleachers along the route. When the flatbed truck came briefly to an unexpected stop directly in front of the Fricke faction, my mom stood up and called out, “Hi, Margaret! Hi, Clarence! Hi, Myrna!” The three heads snapped in the direction of the greeting, and – as if they’d rehearsed it – they excitedly exclaimed, “DOTTY!” “DOTTY!” “DOTTY!” Then the three of them, heedless of the parade route, clambered OFF the truck into the street to greet the four Frickes — holding up the procession but elating my gleeful gang. 😊

This last is another previously used photo, but I have to share it one more time. It was taken of Clarence, Margaret, and me in OZ Park in Chittenango – the place where, of course, Oz “began.” And I am still surprised, in awe, and yet again five years old in viewing proof that I knew these two extraordinary and favorite Oz people – among all of those many others who have helped insure the continuing bliss, legend, and rapture of “homeboy” Frank Baum’s creation.

One all-important additional fact. It’s important to state that the kindness of the Munchkins to me was nothing out-of-the-ordinary. They were that kind of gracious and caring to everybody. They earned and warranted their retroactive fame and attention; “in person,” they made literally hundreds of thousands of people immeasurably euphoric in the process. “The little people who live[d] in this land” have now again become “the little people who LIVE in this land” – never, ever to be forgotten.

—————-

A special note of its own: I’m sure that everyone reading here will be moved and exhilarated to learn that one of Betty Ann Bruno’s replica Munchkin costumes has also been given to Chittenango’s All Things Oz Museum. It will be unveiled and dedicated there during the annual OZ-Stravaganza!, May 31st through June 2nd, 2024. 😊

“THE LITTLE PEOPLE WHO LIVE[D] IN THIS LAND” – PART 5

By: John Fricke

Above: This photo unquestionably captures one of the many Mt. Everest-like pinnacles of my own Oz festival associations. It was never anything less than the greatest joy, the greatest pleasure, and the greatest privilege to work several dozen times with the incomparable Margaret Pellegrini, movie Munchkin from THE WIZARD OF OZ. We were “caught” here, clowning on the Munchkinland bench in the Oz Park Poppy Field in Chittenango, NY, during a wonderful weekend roughly two decades ago. Her flowerpot hat upstages me – but Margaret could do that with a simple aside to an audience, and they loved it almost as much as I did. 😊

FOREWORD

In our August 26th entry for 2023 — posted on Chittenango’s All Things Oz and OZ-Stravaganza! Facebook pages (as well as on this blog site) — we celebrated the Oz festival of last June. The highlights of that weekend, of course, were provided by the song, dance, autographing-and-reminiscing participation of ninety-one-year-old Betty Ann Bruno, an original “MunchKid” from Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer’s 1939 feature film, THE WIZARD OF OZ. This was Betty Ann’s second annual visit to the upstate New York village where L. Frank Baum was born in 1856. Mr. Baum went on to write THE WONDERFUL WIZARD OF OZ (1900) and thirteen other Oz Books, and everybody involved in OZ-Stravaganza! (which has joyously honored him for more than four decades) happily anticipated that Betty Ann would make many return trips to his birthplace in the future.

Incidentally, for those unfamiliar with the terminology, it’s important to note here that the unofficially named “MunchKids” group was comprised of a dozen little girls from Hollywood dance schools who mostly “filled in” background spots on the MGM OZ set. Five, as of earlier this year, were still among us, although – as all are in their nineties – it was only Betty Ann who traveled.

Most unexpectedly, however, she herself passed away just a month after Chittenango’s forty-sixth festival. That shattering loss has since reminded me of other MGMunchkins, whose local appearances beginning in the late 1980s were much responsible for putting the village’s long-term Oz event on the map.

These men and women were among the 124 “little people” (as they preferred to be called) who played in the film. More than five years have passed since we lost the last of them, and it’s been more than a decade since any were able to appear in Chittenango. Although I was regularly on site for the local festival beginning in 1990, I wasn’t writing a blog for All Things Oz at any point “back in the day[s]” of the Munchkins’ 1989-2012 era of participation. This past summer, when Betty Ann left us, it occurred to me that it was more than appropriate that this space now provide a means of remembering some of the others who preceded her in dazzling central New Yorkers, as well as the Oz fans from all over the world who found their way to “Baum Country.” In this manner, we’re able to again celebrate their contributions, as we did those of Betty Ann in 2022 and 2023.

In line with that concept, this space has — across the last four months — heralded Munchkins Ruth Duccini, Karl Slover, Meinhardt Raabe, and Jerry Maren. Now we move on to arguably the best loved of all the festival-going corps of little people: “Miss Margaret” Pellegrini.

Above: Here’s a rare, peaceful moment on the Munchkinland set. Glinda, Dorothy, and Toto – i.e., Billie Burke, Judy Garland, and Terry – are all three either quietly rehearsing or just on momentary “hold.” As soon as Glinda begins her welcoming song, however (“Come out, come out, wherever you are, and meet the young lady who fell from a star”), they’ll be joined by more than one-hundred-and-thirty of those who “live” in that surrounding village.

THE FAVORITE . . .

MARGARET PELLEGRINI: THE MAGICAL MUNCHKIN

If you track down the 1994 home video documentary, WE’RE OFF TO SEE THE MUNCHKINS, you’ll see a brief audio/visual clip that was photographed a year earlier at the Chesterton, IN, Oz Festival. The moment in question depicts three or four children costumed as movie characters from Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer’s THE WIZARD OF OZ. They’re crowded around an open convertible; the vehicle is parked in line with other cars, preparatory to driving on to the annual parade.

Perched on the back seat of that car, however, is one of the approximately 124 “little people” who appeared in the 1939 film. Garbed in a duplicate of her townswoman/villager wardrobe and sporting a flower-pot hat on her head, she’s welcoming and encouraging to the kids. Suddenly, one of the children unhesitatingly and colloquially pipes up, “Are you theREALLY Munchkin?”

To which Margaret Pellegrini instantly responds, “Yes, I’m REALLY a Munchkin!”

She was, of course, so very much more. Yet her ultimately international fame came as an indefatigable representative of the cast of Metro’s OZ. During twenty-seven years of personal appearances at Ozzy events, festivals, and conventions, Margaret was sought after, greeted, hugged, and then held in fond memory by hundreds of thousands of people.

Above: In this closer view of Glinda, she assures the Munchkins they have nothing to fear from the recently arrived girl from Kansas. As for Margaret Pellegrini? She’s posed here in her dancing townswoman wardrobe, and you’ll find her just to the right of Judy Garland’s left hand. Notice, though, that a renegade Ozzy palm frond obscures most of her classic flowerpot hat. Margaret also had a second costume for the Munchkinland sequence, and in her own words, it was “a pink nightgown and bonnet with white lace trimming. I was put in the Sleepyhead Nest – I’m the second in the back. That nest was beautiful; it was pink satin. Even the eggs were lined in satin.”

The Pellegrini back story is best found in Steve Cox’s definitive history, THE MUNCHKINS OF OZ. As Steve notes, Margaret’s unexpected show business career and subsequent life as mother and grandmother (and eventually great- and great-great grandmother) was surprisingly topped off when Oz collector Tod Machin tracked her down – along with fellow Munchkins Fern Formica and Hazel Resmondo — to invite them to a 1985 birthday party for a senior citizen fan in Liberal, KS. By the time the OZ film celebrated its 50th anniversary four years later, the concurrent first edition book of Cox’s round-up research had been published as THE MUNCHKINS REMEMBER, and multiple other diminutive cast members also took to the circuit.

All the little people were feted. But from the onset, Margaret was In the forefront. She and Fern were the two youngest of the surviving little people, and the Pellegrini energy, accessibility, and spirit were outstanding. Always game, always rarin’ to go, she would stand (seldom sitting) through hour after hour of autograph sessions, photo ops, handshaking, and hugging.

Above: To save time, MGM catered the Munchkins’ noon meal in an area adjacent to their set. The challenge for the cast, of course, was to keep their costumes clean and food-free, but they managed it. Fifteen-year-old Margaret is shown as she comes down the aisle on the left, completely decked out for OZ and carrying her lunch tray.

Margaret Pellegrini embraced the world, from Sheffield, Alabama, on September 23, 1923, to Phoenix, AZ, on August 6, 2013 — and there’s no counting the stops in between. She was a strong and vital human being, withstanding occasional chaos at home and surviving the loss of husband, both her children, and a great-great grandchild. But she found renewal, peace, and company both with the family she loved and among the hordes of strangers everywhere who ecstatically recognized and embraced (figuratively and literally) a true Ozian. The International Wizard of Oz Club certainly honored her; she was the 2011 recipient of their L. Frank Baum Memorial Award.

My own personal memories of Margaret are incalculable. There were shared hours on stages from coast-to-coast, where — once we knew each other well, and SHE knew she could tease me to the max — she’d sometimes commandeer my microphone and stride to center stage so as to take over and joyously disrupt the proceedings. The voluble glee of the all-ages audiences on every such occasion doesn’t need to be described. 😊

There was, as well, the visual, visceral joy one felt at seeing a muumuu’d Margaret walking hotel hallways after-hours, looking to unwind with the festivalgoers who’d long since become trusted compadres. This invariably led to her lighting upon a chair in the lodging’s lobby or on the bed in someone’s room, as many loyal constituents and courtiers relished the never-waning thrill of sitting on the carpeted floor in a semi-circle at her feet. She and we would talk away the hours, tackling – it seems — a million or more topics. Sometimes, those late-night conversations would enable Margaret to privately, wisely, and pointedly vent about those whom she felt had somehow betrayed Oz. Or we’d hear about her original “discovery” by other little people, as she passed out potato chip samples for her brother-in-law at the Tennessee State Fair. She was then too young to accept their invitation to leave home and join their legitimate troupe, but on request, she nonetheless gave them her contact information. A year or so later, she heard from a Los Angeles theatrical agent, who offered her a job.

It was THE WIZARD OF OZ.

Above: One of the tiniest, cutest, and most talented of those playing Munchkins in OZ, Margaret constantly found herself placed in view on camera. Sometimes, she’d be in the distance; sometimes (as in these two pictures), she’d be more to the fore. At top: In this frame from footage taken just prior to (or just after) a “take,” you can plainly see Margaret and her blue flowerpot hat, above Judy Garland’s right shoulder. Below that photo, the Munchkins are shown after they’ve escorted Dorothy to the border of their country. Margaret was a good dancer and – moments prior to this shot – she was one of the preeminent females to swing out of the throng and into formation behind the five little fiddlers. As the citizenry marched and frolicked forward in farewell, they sang, “You’re Off to See the Wizard,” and this moment captures the finale of their rendition. The blue flowerpot is once again your “clue”; this time, Margaret is in the second row, far to the right and just behind the fifth miniature violinist.

Perhaps the best of all these late night activities came with the opportunity to watch in amazement as Margaret — after twelve or more hours of stand-up, hard work at “posing and signing” – gleefully galloped back to the hotel; doffed the Munchkin garb; donned slacks, comfortable shoes, and a formal, iridescent pullover top; and then trotted off to the nearest casino until the wee hours. (She more-than-frequently seemed to win, too!)

There’s no question that THE WIZARD OF OZ Munchkins had to wait a long time to be recognized for their movie-associated fame. But how fortunate were the countless fans to find that nearly three decades of Oz festivities eventually came to be populated and led by “the little people who live[d] in” that land. To be sure, it would have been wonderful to see Ray Bolger, Jack Haley, Bert Lahr, Margaret Hamilton, or Judy Garland in an Oz parade. Yet by the 1980s and 1990s, their ages and altered appearances would have been confusing (at best) for the myriad young fans along any route. The Munchkins, however, were instantly identifiable: they were still small, still child-size, still conceivably direct from the Yellow Brick Road.

Or at least Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer.

Above: All the surviving Munchkins became popular and public favorites. Here – from left – the jubilant “first trumpeter” Karl Slover, Margaret, and “Lollipop Guild” mainstay Jerry Maren are shown in a celebratory mood during a festival “wrap party.”

Finally! Here and now, for me, for many of us — and for the record and with no exaggeration whatsoever — I want to state that the most adored of all our Munchkin little people was Margaret Pellegrini. It didn’t matter what she was wearing; in street garb, formal garb, gambling garb, or in the petticoats and plastic that “poofed” her costume skirt and puffy sleeves (not to forget the omnipresent and headache-inducing flowerpot hat), she was everyone’s pal, everyone’s cherished companion, everyone’s wise counsel.

Everyone’s irreplaceable and indisputably magical Munchkin. 

Above: We end as we began: Same duo! Same location! At the Chittenango OZ-Stravaganza! (But it’s a different year than that shown up top.) Margaret and I were like everyone else: We knew that such event participation was an honor, and we elatedly anticipated our reunions around the country, year after year. Some of the attendant magic was captured in the aforementioned VHS documentary, the box cover of which is also shown above. There’s a bad copy of the film on YouTube; it’s been inexpertly transferred, and we’re all stretched sideways! But it provides an opportunity to hear eight of the extraordinary little people tell their own stories. I don’t think anyone seeing it — or reading here — will doubt my sincerity when I say that I will spend the rest of my life indebtedly acknowledging that “I knew the Munchkins!” 😊

[This blog was expanded and edited from a briefer John Fricke feature that appeared in THE BAUM BUGLE: A JOURNAL OF OZ (Winter 2013) — a publication of The International Wizard of Oz Club, Inc. (ozclub.org)]