Monthly Archives: April 2019
2282 La Contente Drive, Whitley Heights
Built in 1927, 2282 El Contento Drive, Whitley Heights, this Spanish style home with 3538 square feet of space with five bedrooms and five bathrooms supposedly once home to silent film-star Vilma Banky. This is a two-story entry hall, living room with massive hand-painted beams and oak flooring throughout. Spacious formal dining room, kitchen and breakfast room with huge city views and open directly to pool & outdoor dining terrace. There are four en-suite bedrooms and the master has sitting room, large private terrace and fireplace. This was last sold in 2016. There is no record that Vilma Banky actually lived there.
Vilma Banky Malibu Home
Vilma Banky & Rod LaRoque Los Angeles, CA
Vilma Banky & Rod LaRoque Los Angeles, CA
“I have a future. I don’t want any woman hampering my career”. Ninety percent of marriages are proposed when the man is lonely or intoxicated. The only way to escape loneliness is by marrying – Rudolph Valentino, during an interview with Herbert Howe”
Valentino learned about “women from her” a lesson that he carried to the boulevards of Paris. There he learned love in its casual phase the love that is based on the bubble of the hour, that has now for its patron saint the francs of the stranger, now the art of the artist, and then the heart offering of the poet. Also, he saw the other side of the picture. The sincere love of the poor native or stranger, who, in the midst of infidelity, of pretense and thoughtless pleasure, clung to a man, and the man to her, with the same simple love lonely in the midst of a crowd that might have been found in the peasant remoteness of the Midi. Such formed the basis of the Valentino school. To him loving is an art a game of finesse. It must not be played with speed or crudeness. There is no place for the quick canvasser or the man who has to catch a train. It is his doctrine that he would never care to kiss a woman who made it possible at the first, second, or third encounter. It must be nursed he insists. Love cannot be forced, deduces this youthful safe of affection from his world study. It is worthless unless it is given freely and happily, and there can be no joy in what is taken by force or with reluctance. The bliss of a kiss, he opines, lies in the receiving end of the vibratory combination, and blessed he is who can gradually reaches a state where two souls and two hearts drift in concentric circles toward each other and then whirl into one mad embrace as two floating chins approaching the vortex of a whirlpool might circle and circle and circle closer and closer with each moment, and then take the plunge into that mad torrent side by side. That is the Valentino theory of love. His notion of the American is a man who forms instant desire to kiss a woman the first time he sees her; who is too hurried to wait, too crude to conceal from his telltale eyes the purpose that lurks in the mind. But a kiss is something that tells a story. When four lips are to join in the greatest of human sentiment that ever comes to a world that was supposedly born in sin and misery then it is the women who gives the kiss! And the kiss that is given is worth all of the stolen fruit, all of the captured lip trophies that have been recorded in the world from the time of the Queen of Sheba first, felt the magic of Solomon’s touch down to the latest osculatory treasure that marked a belated goodnight at the vestibule of a New York flag. It’s all a game. There you have the rudiments compiled by a master.
Rudolph Valentino may turn his hands to other lines of endeavor, judging by articles of incorporation of Rudolph Valentino Productions filed yesterday, at the County Clerk’s office. Besides motion pictures and their appurtenances, the company is empowered to deal in “musical compositions” and “general photographic and music reproduction”. The corporation has $25,000 of capital stock of which $300 has been subscribed for by the directors. These are George Ullman, Beatrice Ullman, and Rudolph Valentino. The articles were filed with the Secretary of State at Sacramento sometime ago. Raymoney Stewart is the attorney
I hate them. Because to me they seem like the souls of foolish women who have passed on. Poor, illusioned fluttering things, that find, now as always, irresistible The warmth of the flame. Taking no heed of the warning, that merely singed their wings. They fluttered nearer and nearer, till wholly consumed to filmy ashes of golden dust. I fear them yet, I watch them fascinated. They make me see the folly, that what it seems women are created for.
For women’s life was love, since life beginning and the hypocrite alone calls sinning. But if ever the highway of sin, I would trod straight on. Till, I returned unto dust and sod, and then as the blood ran riot in my veins, two lips trembling with ecstacy and pain. I would call out for death, though I knew full well, I had gained a paradise thru the gates of hell.
Rudolph Valentino, the famous cinema actor who just arrived from America, was the centre of an extraordinary scenes at a West End Cinema theatre, where he personally attended the occasion of the screening of one of his films. He was surrounded by a seething crowd, mostly women. The police forced them back and the doors had to be locked after the performance. Valentino rather than face the crowd which remained in the street, had to escape over the roof of the theatre.
The slinkingly frocked and perfectly turbaned Natacha Rambova is carrying on at her modernistically fronted shop a few steps off Fifth Avenue daily. Her salon is a junkle-jumble of bags, perfume, objects d’art, Indian scarves, antique jewelry, modern costume jewelry, and Persian brocades. She opened it shortly after the passing of Rudolph Valentino and it is a flitter of black glass and chrome. Miss Rambova chief diversion is attending spiritualistic seances and is said to be convinced she has received numerous messages from the film star.