Gretchen Hartman — The Lady of the Names (1919) 🇺🇸

Born Greta Ahrbin. Biographed Gretchen Hartman. She was Sonia Markova; and then —

by Delight Evans

She ordered an old-fashioned peach short-cake. So far as I could notice, the only thing old-fashioned about it was that it happened to be made of cake and peaches and whipped cream just like any other short-cake. But she enjoyed it. She slid the top layer off, and then ate the peaches.

“That’s what I used to do,” she said, “when I was a kid.”

For a person who doesn’t pretend to be an ingénue and whose forte is strong-minded heroines — who has even played vamps and such at times — Gretchen Hartman is rather remarkably ingenuous. In a nice, inoffensive way, of course. She doesn’t seem to have outgrown a spontaneous interest and a girlish enjoyment in everything. She hasn’t had much time of course.

Just at this moment, the waiter obligingly spilled a tray of French pastry, facedown, on Miss Hartman’s lap. Miss Hartman was wearing a black satin frock — a charming thing. I remember when a waiter upset a salad with Thousand-Island dressing on me, but then I only wore a dark blue suit at the time. At that, I was never so humiliated in my life; never. But Miss Hartman — why, she actually seemed to enjoy it. She smiled vaguely at the waiter, dabbed ineffectually at her sash, and finished her old-fashioned peach short-cake.

She said herself she guessed she’d have to make herself over. Adopt some eccentricisms so that managers would believe she was a personality. She’s often imposed upon; they think she’s easy. She is. But she is married to Alan Hale, who is as independent as possible. Perhaps the only instance wherein he is not independent is in regard to his military status and he wants to go to war.

“Well,” said Gretchen Hartman, apropos of nothing in particular, “they say every one has three chances in a life-time. I have had two of mine. Wonder what I’ll do with the third?”

She explained: “Just when I was making a success as Mary Jane in Mary Jane’s Pa, here in Chicago, why I began to get to the awkward age. So I had to quit for a while, too small to play grown-up parts, and too young to play kids. Then I went with Biograph; that was the beginning of my second chance. I’d worked there quite a while when D. W. Griffith began to make preparations to go to California. I had a hunch I might be taken along. Well — I wasn’t. He’d thought of taking me, but it seems something came up and he didn’t.

“Oh, I’ve had my share of disappointments,” she said, shaking her dark head with a world-old air, “for instance, — my name — I mean names. Now, my parents were born in Sweden; and I was born right here in Chicago. But they thought my name — Greta Ahrbin — unpronounceable; so I changed it to Gretchen Hartman. Then — I became for a while, Sonia Markova. But that wasn’t exactly my idea, or my fault. And now I’m going to take a third name, because ‘they’ think Gretchen Hartman sounds too German. I’ll use my own after this — only I’ll simplify the spelling and make it Arbin. And — if they prefer — I have several others I can use.” She laughed. “Let’s see — I’m married to Alan; so I’m Mrs. Hale. Then I could take Alan’s real name — his real name’s McCann, he’s Irish.”

“I knew it,” I interrupted.

We went to the theatre where Alan Hale was playing in Friendly Enemies. We waited in the wings while a stage-hand went about bawling, “Mr. Hale — Mr. Hale! Two lady-friends to see you!”

“He thinks we’re matinée girls,” giggled Mrs. Hale.

Alan Hale appeared in shirt-sleeves, half made-up. He seemed embarrassed. “H’d’y’ do,” he said; and hustled us out — or rather in, to see the play.

Gretchen Hartman enjoyed it as much as I did, although she’d seen it several dozen times. “Alan’s played in so many different productions this season,” she said, “in The Rainbow Girl, and Rock-a-bye Baby, — both musical comedies — in New York. Alan had a fine time working in them. He’s the spy in this; but I don’t know why they should always cast him as a villain.” He really would make a corking hero — only he laughs too much.

We didn’t talk about Mr. Hale all the time.

Afterwards, in the lobby of the theatre, a young girl, staring after Miss Hartman, turned suddenly, approached, and touched her on the arm. “I — I beg your pardon,” she said, her face quite red, “but aren’t you Sonia Markova?”

Gretchen Hartman led her aside. “Let’s sit down here and I’ll tell you,” she said. “I’m Gretchen Hartman. I was Sonia Markova — for a while. It was a very foolish affair, my dear; and I very much regret my part in it — “The girl interrupted: “I thought it was funny! I’m a moviefan, Miss Hartman, an old-timer I used to see you in Biograph pictures as Gretchen Hartman. So I couldn’t understand, when I saw you in those Fox films, why you should change your name to Sonia Markova and pretend you were a Russian actress. It didn’t fool me a bit.”

“The only work I did under Fox of which I am proud, is my Fantine in Les Misérables. Then,” continued Miss Hartman, “I did a picture for Fox, The Love Thief, under my own stage name of Gretchen Hartman, opposite my husband, Alan Hale. It is my career that has suffered through the publicity accorded the Russian actress, Sonia Markova.’ And I’ll just simply have to remain in the background until it is forgotten.”

“Thank you very much — and may I have your picture?”

—

Well, it started me to thinking. When I got back to Photoplay I searched through the files. First under “Gretchen Hartman.” It told all about her work with Biograph; her frequent screen appearances for four years, with well-known companies such as Metro and Ivan; first stage experience in Bush Temple Stock, Chicago; real name Greta Ahrbin, born of Swedish parents in Chicago; married to Alan Hale.

Then — “Sonia Markova.” The manufactured career of Sonia, according to publicity issued from the William Fox offices, began in Libau, Russia, twenty-one years ago. “Raised in Russia, a revolutionist at heart, Markova escaped from the upheavals that followed the revolution and came to America on an ammunition ship. Letters of introduction through the Russian embassy brought her to Mr. Fox. No letters of introduction could tell Mr. Fox what he saw for himself, that he had before him a girl with a beautiful face and dramatic talent. * * * Madame Markova’s father was an orchestra leader. Her mother was gypsy-born. Her father taught her music until she was so far advanced that she went to the conservatory at Moscow. Madame Markova’s mother gave her wonderful grace and the charming air of mystery characteristic of gypsy folks. Madame Markova is well-known to the leaders of the Russian revolution.”

Madame made two Fox pictures, The Painted Madonna, and A Heart’s Revenge. Then Fox announced that Madame had retired, for reasons not stated. But we all know that it was because Gretchen Hartman, a picture personality of prominence, couldn’t be made overnight into a Russian vamp — even though William Fox worked his publicity department over-time in the attempt. The hard-working Fox publicists thought it “awful dope;” but “Chief’s orders,” they said resignedly. “They may wonder about it at first —” we can almost hear Mr. Fox — “just as they did about Theda Bara. But it’ll blow over. Just watch the fans swallow this Russian stuff.” But the fans fooled Mr. Fox. They knew Gretchen Hartman.

Mr. Fox’s charities are well-known to the public. And it is not given to us to follow the inner workings of the Fox brain. But it does seem — sometimes — that Mr. Fox should follow that little adage which recommends that one’s charities should begin with one’s own moving picture company.

It is Gretchen Hartman’s screen career that has been brought to a full stop through the “Sonia Markova” publicity. Her name savored over-much of the Teutonic for her own satisfaction, and she was naturally not averse to exchanging it for one of more Allied interest. But she would not — if her wishes had been consulted — have acquiesced in the brand-new career mapped out for her by the perspiring publicists. When she has lived down her Russian past, Miss Hartman will return to the screen. She may, however, accept a stage engagement in the meantime.

Those Foxy press-agents said in their facile manner — “Madame Markova has beauty; she has talent, and she has wonderfully expressive eyes, set in a face that can show manifold emotions. She has inborn grace of movement that will captivate those who see her. They will emulate Oliver Twist. They will ask for more.” For once the Fox press-agents were right. But, one thinks, what more could one ask?

William Fox presents
The Love Thief with Gretchen Hartman and Alan Hale
A Vivid Portrayal of a Woman’s Passion and Jealousy
Written by N. P. Niessen

Gretchen Hartman was featured with her husband Alan Hale in a Fox picture called The Love Thief. This was before Mr. Fox had his “Sonia Markova” inspiration. It is Miss Hartman’s career that has suffered through the publicity accorded the “Russian actress;” and she says she will have to remain in the background until it is forgotten.

For a person who doesn’t pretend to be an ingenue and whose forte is strong-minded heroines — who has even played vamps and such at times — she is rather remarkably ingenuous.

In oval on opposite page — with Mr. Hale in The Love Thief.

—

“Sonia Markova,” said the Fox publicists, “was born in Libau twenty-one years ago. Her father was a musician; her mother a gypsy; Markova has beauty; she has talent; she has inborn grace that will captivate those who see her.” As regards the last statement, for once the Fox press-agents were right.

William Fox presents Sonia Markova in The Painted Madonna
The 1918 Drama of a Woman’s Redemption
Story by George M. Scarborough

—

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Collection: Photoplay Magazine, December 1919