Krazy Kat Klub

Krazy Kat Klub
"The Kat"
Patrons at The Kat in July 1921: Cleon Throckmorton (right), Kathryn Mullin (left), Inez Hogan (middle). The chalk-written message above the door, "All soap [sic] abandon ye who enter here!", refers to the warning over the entrance to Hell in Dante's Inferno.[a]
Address3 Green Court
Washington, D.C.
United States
Coordinates38°54′14″N 77°01′52″W / 38.904°N 77.031°W / 38.904; -77.031
OwnerJohn Ledru Stiffler, Jawne[b] Donn Allen & Cleon Throckmorton[4]
OpenedJanuary 1919 (1919-01)[1]
ClosedJune 1922 (1922-06) (equipment/fixtures sold)[2]
1925 (building demolished)[3]

The Krazy Kat Klub—also known as The Kat and Throck's Studio—was a bohemian coffeehouse and art club near Thomas Circle in Washington, D.C. during the Jazz Age.[5][6] Founded in 1919 by U.S. army veterans John Ledru Stiffler and Jawne Donn Allen with the aid of scenic designer Cleon Throckmorton,[7] the back-alley establishment functioned as a speakeasy due to the 1917 Sheppard Bone-Dry Act imposing a ban on alcoholic beverages in the nation's capital.[8] Within a year of its founding by Stiffler, Allen, and Throckmorton, the speakeasy became notorious for its riotous performances of hot jazz music which often degenerated into mayhem.[9]

Located in an old livestock stable,[10] the Krazy Kat derived its name from the androgynous title character of a popular comic strip, and this namesake communicated that the venue catered to clientele of all sexual persuasions, including homosexual and polysexual patrons.[11] Due to this inclusivity, the venue served as a clandestine rendezvous spot for the Capitol's gay community to meet without fear of exposure.[12][13] The Kat's clientele advocated the embrace of free love ("unperverted impulse") in newspaper articles,[14] and D.C. municipal authorities publicly identified the infamous venue as a "disorderly house," a euphemism for a brothel.[15]

Serving as both an underground gay nexus and a gathering place for artists associated with the Provincetown Players,[c] the Krazy Kat became one of the most vogue locations for D.C.'s cultural avant-garde to mingle, including atheists, aesthetes, professors, and flappers.[19][20] A Washington Times writer described the venue as "a hidden haunt where one might find in comradeship those divine, congenial devils, art inspired and mad, no doubt".[14] Other habitues included federal bureaucrats during the second term of President Woodrow Wilson's administration.[15][21]

Existing for years mere blocks from the White House and surviving a number of police raids,[22] the speakeasy likely closed in June 1922 when its fixtures and kitchen equipment were publicly sold.[2] By that time, co-proprietor Cleon Throckmorton and his wife Kathryn Mullin had relocated to New York City, taking with them many sketches and paintings from the shuttered club.[23][5] In 1925, the old livestock stable was demolished and replaced by an industrial building.[3] Today, the still extant building adjacent to the bygone speakeasy is the site of The Green Lantern, a gay bar.[24]

Location

Exterior of the speakeasy, located in the far right, double-doored building on the second floor, above an old livery stable. The dome of Portland Flats is visible above it. No photograph of the club's indoor area—the speakeasy itself—is known to exist.

Situated at 3 Green Court alley (38°54′14″N 77°01′52″W / 38.904°N 77.031°W / 38.904; -77.031) between Northwest 14th Street and Massachusetts Avenue, near Washington, D.C.'s Thomas Circle, the Krazy Kat existed in an economically-depressed district colloquially known as the Latin Quarter.[25] Located in an old livestock stable that briefly served as a garage for early motor vehicles,[26] the club offered multiple entrances for its patrons who did not wish to be seen entering its premises,[19] and at least one inconspicuous entrance opened into the narrow red-bricked alleyway.[5]

The alleyway entrance door bore a rectangular hand-painted sign reading "Syne of Ye Krazy Kat" and depicted the cartoon character Krazy Kat being hit by a brick.[27] A chalk-inscribed message adorned the top of the iron-barred door with the warning: "All soap [sic] abandon ye who enter here!",[28] a playful reference to the inscription over the gates of Hell in Dante's Inferno.[a] The club advertised its irregular hours as between 9 p.m. and 12:30 a.m.[19] Despite a misleading sign at one entrance proclaiming "The Use of Intoxicating Beverages Is Absolutely Forbidden,"[19] the club offered liquor to its patrons throughout its existence during Prohibition.[5]

Upon entering the old livestock stable via the narrow Green Court alleyway, patrons crossed a lumber-littered room and then ascended a narrow, winding, rickety staircase to reach "a smoke-filled, dimly lighted room that was fairly well filled with laughing, noisy people, who seemed to be having just the best time in the world, with no one to see and no one to care who saw".[10][1]

The club's interior dining area occupied the second floor. Rife with cobwebs and lit by candles burning in old tin cans, the indoor dining area resembled a Greenwich Village coffee house with small wooden tables and rickety chairs, and featured gaudy pictures painted by futurists and impressionists on the walls.[30][1] As the old livestock stable once served as a vehicle garage before becoming a postwar nightclub and speakeasy, the proprietors burned incense "trying valiantly to annihilate the odors of gasoline which once reeked from every corner."[1]

No photograph of this indoor area—the speakeasy itself—is known to exist. The club's premises included an indoor dance floor and an outdoor courtyard for al fresco dining and art exhibitions. The courtyard featured a tree house cafe constructed from wooden planks and accessible via a ladder.[31]

History

Foundation

On March 3, 1917, the controversial passage of the Sheppard Bone-Dry Act, sponsored by Senator Morris Sheppard (D) of Texas, led to the closure of 267 barrooms and nearly 90 wholesale establishments in the District of Columbia.[32][5] The law threw over 2,000 employees in D.C. barrooms and wholesale establishments out of work, and the "dry" district lost nearly half-a-million dollars per year in tax revenue.[32] In the wake of this draconian bill, underground speakeasies flourished in the nation’s capital.[33]

In January 1919, two months after the end of World War I and the same month that Prohibition began under the Eighteenth Amendment, army veterans John Ledru Stiffler (1894–1982) and Jawne[b] Donn Allen (1893–1957) met in Washington, D.C., both broke and without support.[1] Stiffler had served in the Engineering Corps at Camp Humphreys and Allen with the Lafayette Artillery Company at Camp Meade.[1] A Times-Herald article noted that, although they had just met, both were artists before the war.[1]

Recently discharged and homeless, Stiffler and Allen founded the Krazy Kat together as a coffeehouse and art club to pursue their artistic ambitions.[1] Stiffler, a classically trained Russian ballet dancer and Carnegie Institute of Technology alumnus, aspired to design murals.[1] His partner, Jawne Donn Allen, from nearby Norfolk, Virginia, studied at the National Fine Arts School and later joined the Provincetown Players.[34] Known for his performances as a Hula dancer, Allen hoped to become an interior decorator.[1] The opening day of their new venue occurred circa January 10, 1919, with Stiffler and Allen serving coffee, chocolates, and "tea" to the first curious customers while still wearing their World War I military uniforms.[1]

Within days of its opening in January 10, 1919, art students, writers, and "uptown slummers" soon flocked to Stiffler's and Allen's paint-splattered, candle-lit venue hoping to find "interesting nights" similar to existing D.C. establishments such as the Vermillion Hound and the Purple Pup.[1] Mere weeks after Stiffler and Allen opened the Krazy Kat, a "maniac assailant"—as described in newspaper headlines—stalked the dark alleyways of the venue's dangerous neighborhood of Green Court.[35] The assailant brutally assaulted, strangled, and wounded victims in locations very near the Kat.[35] Despite the uncaught "maniac" eluding police dragnets and newspapers reporting a "city in terror",[35] such ongoing events did not dissuade thirsty patrons from visiting the after-hours speakeasy in Green Court, and twenty to fifty habitues soon crowded its premises.[36]

Bohemian haunt

By February 1919, 21-year-old artist Cleon Throckmorton (1897–1965) joined Stiffler and Allen as co-proprietor after completing his engineering studies at George Washington University.[15][37][5] By day, Throckmorton worked as a drama department associate at Howard University, a historically black college.[38] By night, he helped run the speakeasy in the Latin Quarter.[39] A pre-Raphaelite impressionist and aspiring scenic designer, Throckmorton believed that artists should pursue their vocation day and night by surrounding themselves with environs that inspired creativity, and the venue fulfilled that purpose.[19]

Throckmorton's fellow artist and muse, 18-year-old Kathryn Marie Mullin[d] (1902–1994), became a frequent habitue of the Krazy Kat.[42] A model, sketch artist, and costume designer, Mullin gained local fame for her stage performances as a ukulele player and singer with the Crandall Saturday Nighters.[43] For her performances, promoters billed Mullin as "The Girl With the Million Dollar Legs."[44] When not performing, she gave public exhibitions of women's saber fencing.[45] Mullin married Throckmorton in January 1922.[42]

Using his considerable skill as a scenic designer, Throckmorton transformed the Krazy Kat into "a most spooky sort of place, weird and crazy as its name."[14] With its courtyard illuminated by paper lanterns and tree house for al fresco dining, the Krazy Kat soon became an idyllic haunt for artists, bohemians, flappers, and other free-wheeling "young moderns".[46] Its clientele openly declared their belief in free love, which contemporary sources alluded to as "unperverted impulse... whatever that is".[14] Authorities quickly took notice of the establishment, and the speakeasy suffered its first police raid forty three days after its opening.[15]

Gay nexus

I sat on the bench I call "Nighthawk." Two youths passed in front of me... As they passed me the blond one sang the simple title line, "All By Myself," of the popular song, and I looked at him and smiled. He walked over and sat down, breezily asking, "Know of any place where we can find some excitement—or anyway, something doing?"... They had heard of the Krazy Kat and I gave them instructions how to find it... Later he said, "Some old grandmother in an automobile tried to pick me up, but I said—nothing doing." He added facetiously, "I'm just a pure, innocent young girl." The dark lad dryly said, "A bit wise, that's all." They set off to find the Krazy Kat. I felt cheered up after they had gone.

Jeb Alexander, Diary, 19 August 1921[47]

The venue's peculiar name signaled its openness to patrons of all sexual orientations, including homosexual and polysexual individuals.[11] The venue took its name from George Herriman's Krazy Kat comic strip about a love triangle between different species and genders.[48][49] In the strip, a male dog canine pines for Krazy, a gender-ambiguous cat, who loves a male rodent "who lives only to vent hostility on Krazy by hurling bricks".[49] According to Herriman, Krazy Kat wasn't "a he or a she. The Kat's a spirit—a pixie—free to butt into anything."[50] Reflecting its namesake, Krazy Kat appeared on both the shirts worn by the club's waiters and on its alleyway door,[5] painted with magenta eyes and an orange tail.[1]

Although not the first space for gay persons to congregate in Washington, D.C. as evidenced by the earlier drag balls hosted by African-American former slave William Dorsey Swann during the Gilded Age,[51] the Krazy Kat became an underground nexus for D.C.'s gay community during the Jazz Age, offering a safe space to meet without fear of exposure.[12][13] Jeb Alexander, a gay D.C. resident and federal bureaucrat, recounted cruising for sex at night in nearby Lafayette Square, located behind the White House, and directing other gay men to the Krazy Kat as a place where they could find "excitement".[47]

In his personal diary, Jeb Alexander described the peculiar venue as a "bohemian joint in an old stable up near Thomas Circle... [a gathering place for] artists, musicians, atheists [and] professors".[20] Although his gay partner C. C. Dasham enjoyed the establishment, Alexander found the milieu to be too intellectually formidable and feared that he would embarrass himself due to his lack of culture.[20] "I'd make a fool of myself by my backwardness," Alexander confided in his diary.[20]

Cultural peak

A 23-year-old Cleon "Throck" Throckmorton, 18-year-old Kathryn Mullin,[d] and a friend, possibly Mildred McDonald,[52] wearing a tricorne hat, relax and enjoy refreshments in the club's tree house cafe.

Serving as both an underground gay nexus and a gathering place for Southern artists affiliated George Cram "Jig" Cook's and Susan Glaspell's Provincetown Players,[c] the Krazy Kat over time became one of the most vogue locations for Washington's intelligentsia and aesthetes to congregate during the Jazz Age.[19] Numerous colorful incidents appeared in the press, including a distraught Frenchman visiting the bar to sketch his slain wife's face on a burlap sack before startled onlookers,[53] as well dead cats left as pranks for drunken patrons to trip over.[54]

The speakeasy became notorious for its riotous performances of hot jazz music which often degenerated into violence and mayhem.[9] "War casualties during the jazz outbursts have been too numerous to mention," wrote a crime reporter for The Washington Post in 1920, "Harsh rumor has it that the Krazy Kat Klub and other choice back alley enterprises have been disrupted as a result of rude un-Bohemian cacophanations."[55] During this period, writer Victor Flambeau visited the establishment and described the milieu in a February 1922 newspaper portrait:

"A hidden haunt where one might find in comradeship those divine, congenial devils, art inspired and mad, no doubt, who have renounced the commercial world with its seductive wealth, to gain in solitude or blithe companionship another kind of wealth and fame in self-expression.... When the hours wane, and the candles burn low, and the big fire glows, and over the cigarettes and the cider, the coffee and sandwiches, what do they chat of, these men and women, boys and girls, the would-be writers, painters, poets of tomorrow?"[14]

Cleon Throckmorton (middle), Kathryn Mullin (far right), Inez Hogan (top left) and others in the tree house cafe. The flappers wear the rolled stockings and low heels typical of the era's fashion.[56]

The avant-garde venue, frequently mentioned in the press in conjunction with its co-proprietor Cleon Throckmorton,[57] proved to be a tremendous local success, not only as a favorite postwar hangout for painters, poets, musicians, and playwrights—several of whom purportedly wrote their plays on its premises—but as a key local attraction for visitors to the nation's capital.[58] Owing to its widespread popularity, the venue inspired numerous imitators. Within three years of its opening, other bohemian-style restaurants modeled after the Krazy Kat sprang up in Washington, including the more respectable Carcassonne in nearby Georgetown.[59][60]

Despite its popularity, authorities took a dim view of the venue's continued presence. During its tumultuous existence, authorities declared the Krazy Kat to be a "disorderly house" (a euphemism for a brothel), and the metropolitan police raided the establishment on several occasions during the Prohibition period.[61] One raid interrupted a violent free-for-all brawl inside the club after a patron fired a gunshot.[62][63] Police arrested 25 krazy kats—22 men but only 3 women—described in a newspaper report as "self-styled artists, poets, and actors, and some who worked for the [federal] government by day and masqueraded as Bohemians by night."[15]

Closure

Throckmorton paints Mullin, a stage performer known as "The Girl With the Million Dollar Legs."[44] In the photo, a saber in its scabbard hangs from Mullin's waist. Mullin was a renowned expert in women's saber fencing and gave public exhibitions.[45]

Over the course of the Kat's existence, Stiffler, Allen, and Throckmorton increasingly spent time in other regions of the United States. By May 1921, Stiffler opened a dance studio in Chicago,[64] and he performed in a Krazy Kat musical attended by comic strip creator George Herriman himself.[65] He later moved to New York City and danced in Broadway shows, such as the Marx Brothers' 1924 musical, I'll Say She Is.[66] Meanwhile, Allen and Throckmorton spent more time in Provincetown, Massachusetts. While Allen studied painting,[16] Throckmorton designed the Provincetown Players' 1920 production of Eugene O'Neill's The Emperor Jones and began a prolific career.[67]

With its original three founders less present in Washington, D.C., the Kat likely closed in June 1922 when its kitchen equipment and fixtures, including a canoe and square piano, were publicly listed for sale.[2] In 1925, the old livestock stable was demolished and replaced with an industrial building.[3] Today, the neighborhood is home to The Green Lantern, a D.C. gay bar.[24] By the time of its closure, Throckmorton and Mullin had permanently relocated to Greenwich Village in New York City.[23] They brought several artifacts from the speakeasy with them, including Throckmorton's sketches, which remained on display for decades at Greenwich Village restaurants.[5]

After permanently moving to New York City, Mullin sued Throckmorton for divorce on December 17, 1926, after catching him in an extramarital affair with an unidentified woman—possibly film actress Juliet Brenon—in their Greenwich Village apartment in Manhattan.[68] Mullin's friend, African-American stage actress Blanche Dunn, served as a supporting witness on her behalf in the divorce suit.[68] Throckmorton did not contest the divorce, and Mullin did not seek alimony.[69] In her later years, Mullin remarried again, returned to the Midwest, and became a speech specialist for children.[70] She died in March 1994 at age 91 in South Pasadena, California.[71]

Immediately after divorcing Mullin, Throckmorton married actress Juliet Brenon (1895–1979) on March 13, 1927.[72] She was the niece of Irish-American motion picture director Herbert Brenon who undertook the first cinematic adaptation of The Great Gatsby in 1926.[73] Throckmorton became one of the most prolific scenic designers for Broadway plays in New York City. Throckmorton's Greenwich Village apartment became an after-hours salon for thespians, artists, and intellectuals such as Eugene O'Neill, Noël Coward, Norman Bel Geddes, and E.E. Cummings.[74] Their politically leftward salon raised funds for the Republican faction during the Spanish Civil War.[75]

See also

References

Notes

  1. ^ a b In 1890, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow translated Dante's sentence as "All hope abandon, ye who enter in!"[29]
  2. ^ a b Although his name was "John Donn Allen",[1] he changed the spelling of his first name to Jawne.[16]
  3. ^ a b Donn Allen,[16] Throckmorton,[17] Inez Hogan, Felix Mahony, Charles Dunn, and many others were members of the Provincetown Players or associated with Provincetown's art scene in Massachusetts.[18]
  4. ^ a b Although newspapers misspelled her name as "Katherine Mullen",[40] she was born "Kathryn Mullin".[41]

Citations

  1. ^ a b c d e f g h i j k l m n Stiffler and Allen 1919, p. 8.
  2. ^ a b c The Evening Star 1922.
  3. ^ a b c Williams 2012, p. 52: "The Krazy Kat was dismantled about 1925."
  4. ^ Stiffler and Allen 1919, p. 8; The Washington Post 1919, p. 5; Bohemian Gains Artistic Fame 1921, p. 32.
  5. ^ a b c d e f g h Williams 2012, p. 52.
  6. ^ Stiffler and Allen 1919, p. 8; The Washington Herald 1921, p. 23; Flambeau 1922, p. 7; Farmer 2012.
  7. ^ Stiffler and Allen 1919, p. 8; The Washington Herald 1921, p. 23; Flambeau 1922, p. 7.
  8. ^ Williams 2012, p. 52; The Washington Times 1917, p. 11; The Sunday Star 1927, p. 5.
  9. ^ a b The Washington Times 1920, p. 13; The Washington Post 1919, p. 5.
  10. ^ a b Kebler 1919, p. 15.
  11. ^ a b Williams 2012, p. 52; Bellot 2017; Baek 2014; Flambeau 1922, p. 7.
  12. ^ a b Williams 2012, p. 52; Bellot 2017; Baek 2014.
  13. ^ a b Alexander 1993, pp. 29, 42.
  14. ^ a b c d e Flambeau 1922, p. 7.
  15. ^ a b c d e The Washington Post 1919, p. 5.
  16. ^ a b c Donn Allen 1939.
  17. ^ The Washington Times 1921, p. D9; Bohemian Gains Artistic Fame 1921, p. 32.
  18. ^ The Washington Post 1928, p. 32.
  19. ^ a b c d e f The Washington Herald 1921, p. 23.
  20. ^ a b c d Alexander 1993, p. 29.
  21. ^ Kebler 1919, p. 15; Alexander 1993, p. 29.
  22. ^ The Washington Post 1919, p. 5; "Krazy Kat Row Ends in Fizzle" 1919, p. 5; Williams 2012, p. 52; Barborak 2025.
  23. ^ a b The New York Times 1965, p. 37; The Washington Herald 1926, p. 1; New York Daily News 1926, p. 17.
  24. ^ a b Williams 2012, p. 52; Baek 2014.
  25. ^ The Washington Herald 1921, p. 23; Farmer 2012.
  26. ^ Kebler 1919, p. 15; Stiffler and Allen 1919, p. 8.
  27. ^ Williams 2012, p. 52; Bellot 2017; Library of Congress LC-F8-15145.
  28. ^ Williams 2012, p. 52; Library of Congress LC-F8-15145.
  29. ^ Alighieri 1890, p. 35.
  30. ^ The Washington Post 1919, p. 5; Kebler 1919, p. 15.
  31. ^ Flambeau 1922, p. 7; Library of Congress LC-F81-15101.
  32. ^ a b The Washington Times 1917, p. 11.
  33. ^ The Sunday Star 1927, p. 5.
  34. ^ Stiffler and Allen 1919, p. 8; Donn Allen 1939.
  35. ^ a b c "City in Terror" 1919, p. 1; "Maniac Defies Police Search" 1919, p. 1.
  36. ^ The Washington Post 1919, p. 5; "Draws Slain Wife's Face on Old Sack" 1919, p. 13.
  37. ^ The Washington Times 1921, p. D9; The New York Times 1965, p. 37; Congressional Record 1966, p. A531.
  38. ^ Congressional Record 1966, p. A532.
  39. ^ Williams 2012, p. 52; The Washington Post 1919, p. 5; The Washington Herald 1921, p. 23.
  40. ^ Flambeau 1922, p. 7; The Washington Herald 1926, p. 1.
  41. ^ The Register-Champion 1925.
  42. ^ a b Flambeau 1922, p. 7; The Evening Star 1925, p. 38.
  43. ^ Flambeau 1922, p. 7; The Evening Star 1925, p. 38; Buffalo Courier Express 1926, p. 11.
  44. ^ a b Buffalo Courier Express 1926, p. 11.
  45. ^ a b The Herald Statesman 1923, p. 20.
  46. ^ Flambeau 1922, p. 7; Williams 2012, p. 52.
  47. ^ a b Alexander 1993, p. 42.
  48. ^ Flambeau 1922, p. 7; Bellot 2017.
  49. ^ a b Gelman 1975, p. 8.
  50. ^ Schwartz 2003, p. 9.
  51. ^ Joseph 2020.
  52. ^ Barborak 2025, See The Washington Times image caption, July 18, 1921.
  53. ^ "Draws Slain Wife's Face on Old Sack" 1919, p. 13.
  54. ^ Morton 1919, p. 24.
  55. ^ The Washington Times 1920, p. 13.
  56. ^ The Flapper 1922; The New York Times 1922, p. E10.
  57. ^ Bohemian Gains Artistic Fame 1921, p. 32.
  58. ^ Flambeau 1922, p. 7; The Washington Herald 1921.
  59. ^ Flambeau 1922, p. 7; Kebler 1919, p. 15.
  60. ^ The Washington Herald 1920, p. 18.
  61. ^ The Washington Post 1919, p. 5; "Krazy Kat Row Ends in Fizzle" 1919, p. 5; Williams 2012, p. 52.
  62. ^ The Washington Post 1919, p. 5; Williams 2012, p. 52.
  63. ^ "Police Put End to 'Krazy Kat'" 1919, p. 2.
  64. ^ Shadowland 1921, p. 31.
  65. ^ Musical America 1922, p. 41.
  66. ^ Daily News 1924, p. 24; The Times 1982, p. B5.
  67. ^ The New York Times 1965, p. 37; Congressional Record 1966, p. A531.
  68. ^ a b The Washington Herald 1926, p. 1.
  69. ^ The Washington Herald 1926, p. 1; New York Daily News 1926, p. 17.
  70. ^ Moore 1974, p. 1.
  71. ^ Local Deaths 1994, p. 10.
  72. ^ The New York Times 1927, p. E7; The New York Times 1965, p. 37; The New York Times 1979, p. D13.
  73. ^ The New York Times 1965, p. 37; The New York Times 1979, p. D13; Ditta 2018; Green 1926, p. 14.
  74. ^ The New York Times 1965, p. 37; The New York Times 1979, p. D13; Congressional Record 1966, p. A531.
  75. ^ The New York Times 1965, p. 37.

Works cited