And so, I finally approached America, flaming with zeal,
vehement with ambition, eager to take the land and wrest its secrets from it.
—Rudolph Valentino (1923)
Shortly after embarking on the SS Cleveland from Naples, spendthrift Rodolfo up-graded his second-class cabin and proceeded to enjoy the trans-Atlantic crossing in first-class accommodations. Handsome, charming, and friendly, Rodolfo spent the 15-day trip pursuing the American girls in first class. He also made friends with other, more experienced Italians whose advice he sought on life in New York. On December 23, 1913, the ship docked in Brooklyn, New York, and Rodolfo made his way into Manhattan. His Italian friends advised him to head to Giolito’s, a modest Italian hostelry, for room and board. In-stead, he dined at the fashionable uptown eatery, Rector’s. At the rate he was spending, his nest egg would not last long.
Young Rodolfo’s English was far from perfect, so he made friends with waiters at Italian and French cafes and restaurants. He moved into a boarding house where English was the only language spoken, and as his money dwindled, he made an effort to seek gainful employment. He presented his agricultural diploma and a letter of introduction to the Commissioner of Immigration, who secured for him a position with a prominent banker, Cornelius Bliss. He was employed to design an Italian garden for Mr. Bliss’s Long Island estate; sadly, Mrs. Bliss changed her mind about the Italian garden, and Rodolfo was reduced to menial jobs. This was not to his liking, so he returned to Manhattan with no money and a little too much pride.
He walked the streets seeking employment, but found nothing. With no money for lodging, he occasionally slept on benches in Central Park. With no money for food, he ate free lunches at bars and saloons, scurrying out before the bartender could demand a nickel for a glass of beer. He later admitted that he was evicted from many boarding houses for nonpayment.
He posed for photographers in his topcoat and top hat for portraits to send home, and wrote letters to his mother on Hotel Astor stationery to support the charade that all was going well in America. The letters his family sent back told him all was not well. Gabriella was ailing, money was short, and the Great War was raging in Europe. Gabriella and Maria had moved from Taranto to Gabriella’s native France for the duration of the war. In New York, Italian citizens under the age of 40 were required to enlist. Rodolfo tried to do so but was rejected for his poor eyesight. He later called this period of his life “my real Gethsemane.” He was at rock bottom—there was no place to go but up.
The headwaiter at Bustanoby’s Cafe de la Paix, a popular restaurant and dance club, advised Rodolfo to try his luck at the Café Maxim, on 38th Street. This advice proved to be the turn of his fortunes. He was engaged at Maxim’s as a dancer-for-hire (a “taxi dancer”). There was no salary, but the dancers worked for tips from the ladies they partnered. They were also provided with rooms in the dance studio above the restaurant, where they could give private dancing lessons. Real money could be made and social connections forged.
Rodolfo was adept at charming his clients, and he danced with the grace and agility of a cat. When not dancing at Maxim’s, he danced and partied at other clubs, late into the evening. He haunted the Broadway theaters to make connections and went to gatherings attended by actresses and socialites. Aimee (Crocker) Gouraud held one salon he frequented; there he met and danced with popular actresses such as Gaby Deslys and Gertrude Orr (the future Baroness de Beckendorff). In her unpublished diaries, the Baroness recalled that Gaby Deslys introduced Rodolfo to her glowingly: “one day he will be Europe’s premier dancer.” She also credited him as the man who introduced her to her future husband, Baron Andre de Beckendorff. After her marriage, she recalled a visit from the “perennially broke” Rodolfo. She suggested that he try his luck at acting, “since he was dancing but not setting the world on fire.” She, Andre, and Rodolfo traveled to Philadelphia, where she introduced Rodolfo to producer Sigmund Lubin in the hope of securing work in a play or films. Nothing came of this association, although she claimed Lubin requested photographs of Rodolfo. The Baroness would meet the more successful Valentino some time later at the Alexandria Hotel in Los Angeles. She recounted in her diary they spent a happy afternoon recalling the not so distant and not always so good “good old days.”
His nights were spent dancing, but during the day Rodolfo sought work as a film extra. His first confirmed screen appearance is in the 1916 film, Seventeen, starring Jack Pick-ford. In it, Rodolfo can be seen as a smiling extra, positively towering over the diminutive Jack Pickford.
He met and befriended the Ziegfeld Follies dancer Mae Murray, a friendship that would later serve him well in Hollywood. It is believed that another new friend, Norman Kaiser (later known as the actor Norman Kerry), introduced Rodolfo to the popular exhibition dancer Bonnie Glass. Glass had recently fallen out with her dancing partner, Clifton Webb, and was in need of a new one. Rodolfo was hired, and as “Monsieur Rudolph” he danced professionally with Glass in vaudeville as well as in exhibitions on the stage. Later, when Glass opened her own club, Chez Fysher, he was billed as “Signor Rodolfo.” The engagement with Glass was a prestigious step up, but it resulted in a reduction in pay. In June 1916, Glass married the artist Ben Ali Haggin and shortly thereafter retired. Rodolfo once again found himself unemployed.
vehement with ambition, eager to take the land and wrest its secrets from it.
—Rudolph Valentino (1923)
Shortly after embarking on the SS Cleveland from Naples, spendthrift Rodolfo up-graded his second-class cabin and proceeded to enjoy the trans-Atlantic crossing in first-class accommodations. Handsome, charming, and friendly, Rodolfo spent the 15-day trip pursuing the American girls in first class. He also made friends with other, more experienced Italians whose advice he sought on life in New York. On December 23, 1913, the ship docked in Brooklyn, New York, and Rodolfo made his way into Manhattan. His Italian friends advised him to head to Giolito’s, a modest Italian hostelry, for room and board. In-stead, he dined at the fashionable uptown eatery, Rector’s. At the rate he was spending, his nest egg would not last long.
Young Rodolfo’s English was far from perfect, so he made friends with waiters at Italian and French cafes and restaurants. He moved into a boarding house where English was the only language spoken, and as his money dwindled, he made an effort to seek gainful employment. He presented his agricultural diploma and a letter of introduction to the Commissioner of Immigration, who secured for him a position with a prominent banker, Cornelius Bliss. He was employed to design an Italian garden for Mr. Bliss’s Long Island estate; sadly, Mrs. Bliss changed her mind about the Italian garden, and Rodolfo was reduced to menial jobs. This was not to his liking, so he returned to Manhattan with no money and a little too much pride.
He walked the streets seeking employment, but found nothing. With no money for lodging, he occasionally slept on benches in Central Park. With no money for food, he ate free lunches at bars and saloons, scurrying out before the bartender could demand a nickel for a glass of beer. He later admitted that he was evicted from many boarding houses for nonpayment.
He posed for photographers in his topcoat and top hat for portraits to send home, and wrote letters to his mother on Hotel Astor stationery to support the charade that all was going well in America. The letters his family sent back told him all was not well. Gabriella was ailing, money was short, and the Great War was raging in Europe. Gabriella and Maria had moved from Taranto to Gabriella’s native France for the duration of the war. In New York, Italian citizens under the age of 40 were required to enlist. Rodolfo tried to do so but was rejected for his poor eyesight. He later called this period of his life “my real Gethsemane.” He was at rock bottom—there was no place to go but up.
The headwaiter at Bustanoby’s Cafe de la Paix, a popular restaurant and dance club, advised Rodolfo to try his luck at the Café Maxim, on 38th Street. This advice proved to be the turn of his fortunes. He was engaged at Maxim’s as a dancer-for-hire (a “taxi dancer”). There was no salary, but the dancers worked for tips from the ladies they partnered. They were also provided with rooms in the dance studio above the restaurant, where they could give private dancing lessons. Real money could be made and social connections forged.
Rodolfo was adept at charming his clients, and he danced with the grace and agility of a cat. When not dancing at Maxim’s, he danced and partied at other clubs, late into the evening. He haunted the Broadway theaters to make connections and went to gatherings attended by actresses and socialites. Aimee (Crocker) Gouraud held one salon he frequented; there he met and danced with popular actresses such as Gaby Deslys and Gertrude Orr (the future Baroness de Beckendorff). In her unpublished diaries, the Baroness recalled that Gaby Deslys introduced Rodolfo to her glowingly: “one day he will be Europe’s premier dancer.” She also credited him as the man who introduced her to her future husband, Baron Andre de Beckendorff. After her marriage, she recalled a visit from the “perennially broke” Rodolfo. She suggested that he try his luck at acting, “since he was dancing but not setting the world on fire.” She, Andre, and Rodolfo traveled to Philadelphia, where she introduced Rodolfo to producer Sigmund Lubin in the hope of securing work in a play or films. Nothing came of this association, although she claimed Lubin requested photographs of Rodolfo. The Baroness would meet the more successful Valentino some time later at the Alexandria Hotel in Los Angeles. She recounted in her diary they spent a happy afternoon recalling the not so distant and not always so good “good old days.”
His nights were spent dancing, but during the day Rodolfo sought work as a film extra. His first confirmed screen appearance is in the 1916 film, Seventeen, starring Jack Pick-ford. In it, Rodolfo can be seen as a smiling extra, positively towering over the diminutive Jack Pickford.
He met and befriended the Ziegfeld Follies dancer Mae Murray, a friendship that would later serve him well in Hollywood. It is believed that another new friend, Norman Kaiser (later known as the actor Norman Kerry), introduced Rodolfo to the popular exhibition dancer Bonnie Glass. Glass had recently fallen out with her dancing partner, Clifton Webb, and was in need of a new one. Rodolfo was hired, and as “Monsieur Rudolph” he danced professionally with Glass in vaudeville as well as in exhibitions on the stage. Later, when Glass opened her own club, Chez Fysher, he was billed as “Signor Rodolfo.” The engagement with Glass was a prestigious step up, but it resulted in a reduction in pay. In June 1916, Glass married the artist Ben Ali Haggin and shortly thereafter retired. Rodolfo once again found himself unemployed.
