| Allen J. Bloom |
| MEMORIAL PAGE |
By Joe Holley
Washington Post Staff Writer, Friday, February 1, 2008
Allen J. Bloom, who died Jan. 18 of
lymphoma at his home in Bethesda, was
a hard-bargaining, cigar-chomping
promoter of pomp, panache and spectacle.
He began his career managing early
rock-and-rollers and later rebranded
Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey
Circus as wholesome family
entertainment. He was 72. He was
"larger than life in many ways," said
Rodney Huey, a friend and longtime
colleague. He was an heir to the
old-time circus advance men who
plastered small-town walls and shop
windows with garish posters designed
to attract young gape-mouthed Toby
to "the greatest show on earth." He
brought circus marketing and promotion
into the modern age.
Mr. Bloom, a top executive with
Irvin Feld and Kenneth Feld Productions,
the owner of Ringling Bros. and other live
entertainment attractions, lived high, in
keeping with the stereotype of a promoter. He appreciated fine wines,
good cigars and haute cuisine. He also was a devoted family man, and
that's how he sold the circus -- as fun for the whole family.
His promotional efforts included techniques now considered standard:
multimillion-dollar direct marketing, branding, image-building and
cross-promotion. '"Circus for the masses, not the classes" was his credo.
Huey recalled a 1993 meeting to discuss cultivating a new generation
of circus fans. Mr. Bloom surprised his colleagues by proposing to offer a
free ticket to every child born in the United States that year.
The marketing gimmick was a multipronged success. Not only did
kids get to experience the circus, but they also were accompanied by
ticket- and souvenir-buying adults. That was vintage Allen Bloom, noted
his son and business partner, Randy Bloom: " A hard business result for a
good-hearted reason."
Long before he became a circus promoter, Allen Bloom and the Feld
brothers of Washington were pioneers in putting together touring musical
acts. They promoted the early careers of such rock-and-roll legends as Bill
Haley and His Comets, Buddy Holly, Frankie Lymon and the Everly
Brothers.
Mr. Bloom was born in Los Angeles in the midst of the Depression.
The family moved first to New York and then to the District, where Mr.
Bloom's father found a job at the Government Printing Office. The elder
Bloom hated his job, Randy Bloom recalled. Allen Bloom resolved never
to do anything he didn't enjoy.
He was 11 when his part-time job of sweeping floors in a pharmacy
determined the course of his life. The owners of the store were Israel and
Irvin Feld, who weathered the Depression selling snake oil from a card
table they set up at Maryland and Pennsylvania carnivals. The young
pitchmen so impressed the manufacturer of the nostrum that the company
advanced them money to open a drugstore on Seventh Street NW.
By the time young Mr. Bloom joined them shortly after World War
II, the Felds had begun to realize that records were bigger sellers at their
store than pills and prescriptions. They opened Super Music City record
stores and began producing records and live concerts.
Their young employee had a talent for marketing and for mixing with
people, and soon he was on the road promoting rock-and-roll and
rhythm-and-blues acts in venues across the country. He managed to
graduate from Coolidge High School -- "on a handshake," his rabbi said
at his memorial service. He was rarely in class but did take required tests
when he happened to be in town.
His real education was on the road -- accompanying mixed-race acts
into small Southern towns, learning what worked and what didn't with
small-town radio stations and big-city newspapers, tracking down Fats
Domino when he got homesick after weeks of one-night stands and
decamped to New Orleans.
His hard-earned experience also included the tragic: The plane crash
that killed Holly, Ritchie Valens and J.P. Richardson (the Big Bopper) was
during a Feld Productions tour, advanced by Mr. Bloom. His foray into
circus promotion came about when the sequins had lost their sparkle and
the growls of lions echoed to Big Top emptiness. The Feld brothers, who
took over management of Ringling Bros. in 1956 and bought the company
a decade later, got the circus out of costly tent shows and into indoor
arenas. Mr. Bloom took over the marketing.
He knew how to take advantage of circumstance. Once during a
railroad strike, he arranged for a procession of elephants to enter
Manhattan through the Lincoln Tunnel, each carrying in its mouth a giant
"quarter" for the toll.
He loved the circus's "living unicorn," a goat with a single horn on
the top of its head. When the American Society for the Prevention of
Cruelty to Animals called for a boycott, saying the circus had surgically
implanted the horn, Mr. Bloom described the "Living Unicorn" as "one of
the most delightful experiences offered to children of all ages."He denied
any hint of cruelty.
I swear it was the horn the animal was born with," recalled Huey,
who noted that Mr. Bloom relished the controversy and attendant
publicity about the star attraction, which daily dined on rose petals.
In 1996, Mr. Bloom, citing "philosophical management differences,"
parted company with the only employer he ever had, the Feld family. He
and his son got involved in several endeavors, but none measured up to
the greatest show on earth.
Survivors include his wife of 44 years, Susan Friedenberg Bloom of
Bethesda; his son, of Gaithersburg, and three other children, Cary Bloom
of Gaithersburg, Carla Bloom of Bethesda and Candice Siegel of
Potomac; his mother, Pearl Bloom of the District; a brother, Seymour
Bloom of Naperville, Ill.; two sisters, Marylin Schwartz of Chevy Chase
and Arlene Weissman of Denver; and seven grandchildren.
Washington Post Staff Writer, Friday, February 1, 2008
Allen J. Bloom, who died Jan. 18 of
lymphoma at his home in Bethesda, was
a hard-bargaining, cigar-chomping
promoter of pomp, panache and spectacle.
He began his career managing early
rock-and-rollers and later rebranded
Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey
Circus as wholesome family
entertainment. He was 72. He was
"larger than life in many ways," said
Rodney Huey, a friend and longtime
colleague. He was an heir to the
old-time circus advance men who
plastered small-town walls and shop
windows with garish posters designed
to attract young gape-mouthed Toby
to "the greatest show on earth." He
brought circus marketing and promotion
into the modern age.
Mr. Bloom, a top executive with
Irvin Feld and Kenneth Feld Productions,
the owner of Ringling Bros. and other live
entertainment attractions, lived high, in
keeping with the stereotype of a promoter. He appreciated fine wines,
good cigars and haute cuisine. He also was a devoted family man, and
that's how he sold the circus -- as fun for the whole family.
His promotional efforts included techniques now considered standard:
multimillion-dollar direct marketing, branding, image-building and
cross-promotion. '"Circus for the masses, not the classes" was his credo.
Huey recalled a 1993 meeting to discuss cultivating a new generation
of circus fans. Mr. Bloom surprised his colleagues by proposing to offer a
free ticket to every child born in the United States that year.
The marketing gimmick was a multipronged success. Not only did
kids get to experience the circus, but they also were accompanied by
ticket- and souvenir-buying adults. That was vintage Allen Bloom, noted
his son and business partner, Randy Bloom: " A hard business result for a
good-hearted reason."
Long before he became a circus promoter, Allen Bloom and the Feld
brothers of Washington were pioneers in putting together touring musical
acts. They promoted the early careers of such rock-and-roll legends as Bill
Haley and His Comets, Buddy Holly, Frankie Lymon and the Everly
Brothers.
Mr. Bloom was born in Los Angeles in the midst of the Depression.
The family moved first to New York and then to the District, where Mr.
Bloom's father found a job at the Government Printing Office. The elder
Bloom hated his job, Randy Bloom recalled. Allen Bloom resolved never
to do anything he didn't enjoy.
He was 11 when his part-time job of sweeping floors in a pharmacy
determined the course of his life. The owners of the store were Israel and
Irvin Feld, who weathered the Depression selling snake oil from a card
table they set up at Maryland and Pennsylvania carnivals. The young
pitchmen so impressed the manufacturer of the nostrum that the company
advanced them money to open a drugstore on Seventh Street NW.
By the time young Mr. Bloom joined them shortly after World War
II, the Felds had begun to realize that records were bigger sellers at their
store than pills and prescriptions. They opened Super Music City record
stores and began producing records and live concerts.
Their young employee had a talent for marketing and for mixing with
people, and soon he was on the road promoting rock-and-roll and
rhythm-and-blues acts in venues across the country. He managed to
graduate from Coolidge High School -- "on a handshake," his rabbi said
at his memorial service. He was rarely in class but did take required tests
when he happened to be in town.
His real education was on the road -- accompanying mixed-race acts
into small Southern towns, learning what worked and what didn't with
small-town radio stations and big-city newspapers, tracking down Fats
Domino when he got homesick after weeks of one-night stands and
decamped to New Orleans.
His hard-earned experience also included the tragic: The plane crash
that killed Holly, Ritchie Valens and J.P. Richardson (the Big Bopper) was
during a Feld Productions tour, advanced by Mr. Bloom. His foray into
circus promotion came about when the sequins had lost their sparkle and
the growls of lions echoed to Big Top emptiness. The Feld brothers, who
took over management of Ringling Bros. in 1956 and bought the company
a decade later, got the circus out of costly tent shows and into indoor
arenas. Mr. Bloom took over the marketing.
He knew how to take advantage of circumstance. Once during a
railroad strike, he arranged for a procession of elephants to enter
Manhattan through the Lincoln Tunnel, each carrying in its mouth a giant
"quarter" for the toll.
He loved the circus's "living unicorn," a goat with a single horn on
the top of its head. When the American Society for the Prevention of
Cruelty to Animals called for a boycott, saying the circus had surgically
implanted the horn, Mr. Bloom described the "Living Unicorn" as "one of
the most delightful experiences offered to children of all ages."He denied
any hint of cruelty.
I swear it was the horn the animal was born with," recalled Huey,
who noted that Mr. Bloom relished the controversy and attendant
publicity about the star attraction, which daily dined on rose petals.
In 1996, Mr. Bloom, citing "philosophical management differences,"
parted company with the only employer he ever had, the Feld family. He
and his son got involved in several endeavors, but none measured up to
the greatest show on earth.
Survivors include his wife of 44 years, Susan Friedenberg Bloom of
Bethesda; his son, of Gaithersburg, and three other children, Cary Bloom
of Gaithersburg, Carla Bloom of Bethesda and Candice Siegel of
Potomac; his mother, Pearl Bloom of the District; a brother, Seymour
Bloom of Naperville, Ill.; two sisters, Marylin Schwartz of Chevy Chase
and Arlene Weissman of Denver; and seven grandchildren.
| HOME PAGE |
Circus for the masses, not the classes,
was the credo of Allen J. Bloom, who
marketed the Ringling Bros. show.
(Family Photo)
was the credo of Allen J. Bloom, who
marketed the Ringling Bros. show.
(Family Photo)
