Radio age (Jan-Dec 1925)

32 RADIO AGE for March, 1925 What the Broadcasters are Doing Down the Corridors of Time H A Breath of Old-World Romance from SBR, Belgium YOU do not need to get your thrill of Old World romance out of pictures, tales or travels nowadays. Just tune in on 265 meters one of these unstatic evenings and listen to a, musical instrument that was built centuries before you or I or our granddads were born. Tune sharply and listen carefully and you will hear M. Marcel van Loust de Borkenfeldt announce that it is Station SBR, Brussels, Belgium. Lucky are you if you cuance to tune in on one of those evenings that M. Borkenfeldt tells you that the next number will be a carillon solo by M. Josef Denyn. For that will be the piece de resistance of old country radio broadcasting. M. Denyn is the master of the bells in the ages-old tower of the cathedral at Malines. Malines is the historic town, north of Brussels, where Cardinal Mercier served his God and his country and delivered his memorable Phillipic against the warriors who executed Edith Cavell. Malines made its voice heard throughout the world eight years ago because it chanced that the German gray-blue hordes passed that way into France and, in passing, left a scar Like Days of Old DUT the war is over now -"-* and Belgium is the old Belgium of the days when the cafes were athrob with music, when the Grand Place at Brussels was a rendezvous for the volatile good folk and the gardens were merry with wine women and song. But the carillon. In the belfry at Malines are stationary bells which are "played" by M. Denyn, in much the same manner as one would play an organ or a piano, except that the musical contrivance is on such a gigantic scale that no ordinary finger-board is sufficient to exploit it. The carillonneur must use a keyboard, called a clavier, and instead of running his fingers lightly over the keys, he must pound them lustily with his fists. An old authority has laid down the rule that a "carillonneur must have good hands and feet and be free from the gout." The carillon at Malines was famous before the advent of radio broadcasting. But it is much more famous since radio carried the rich, deep music of the enormous bells across international boundaries and virtually across the seven seas. M. Borkenfeldt was too much of a radio artist to overlook the value of the Malines carillon, and when I visited him in his broadcasting station in Brussels last Summer, the one thing about which he ft* n t\ ,■ *»• *» Here is an excellent view of the Malines Cathedral, at Malines, Belgium. The chimes broadcast through SBR from the tower of this ancient structure have literally crossed the seven seas. (Drawing of cathedral by Briant Poulter by COW' tesy of "The Architect," London.) By FREDERICK SMITH was most enthusiastic was his plan to broadcast the bells of Malines. He told me he would do it — and how astonishing has been his success! Crossing the Atlantic TN the recent international tests the ■* bells of Malines were heard as far west as Salt Lake City, Utah. They have been heard on the fringe of the burning sands of Algeria and in the winter of Helsingfors. M. Denyn has good hands and no gout. There is but one broadcasting station in Belgium. M. Borkenfeldt is very proud of it. It is owned by the Radio Belgiqu'e Stock Company. When I was in Brussels, the directors told me that the radio listeners who paid their government licenses to listen in numbered 8,000 to 9,000, while those who stealthily tuned in on unlicensed receiving sets num M. Borkenjetdt, director and announcer of SBR, Belgium's onty radio station. bered 30,000 to 40,000 more. Belgium, it seems, has the Old World policy of making the fan pay for his entertainment. In days now almost prehistoric, the carillon was limited to three or four bells, but the number of bells has increased until a good carillonneur must have reached the highest point of efficiency. M. Denyn, for example, is known as "The Liszt of the Bells." He has a repertoire that includes not only Flemish music, but old English folk songs, Scotch airs, the national anthems of several countries and many selections from operas. M. Denyn is a good deal of a "Roxy" or a Jerry Sullivan or a Harry ,Snodgrass, if you will. He is invited to go to one country and another to play the local bells, and every season he is as regular in his appearance at Dorset as are American tourists in the socalled Sign of the Cheshire Cheese in dear old Lunnon. So keep an ear perked up for M. Borkenfeldt. You may hear him announcing from "Bruxelles" that M. Denyn is about to stir the echoes in the ancient belfry and send you a romantic moment all the way down the corridors of time. Doing Fine, Thank You! T^HE question has often been raised 1 concerning Belgium's confining it self to only one radio station. M. Borkenfeldt explains this by asserting that his countrymen are so enthused about Station SBR that they haven't the time or the inclination to grow dissatisfied. His innate ability to prepare varied programs that appeal to not only Belgians, but listeners in all the surrounding European countries, is one of M. Borkenfeldt's outstanding accomplishments. Not only is he an expert program director, but a keen student of technical Radio as well. Truly, he is one of the few predominating radio figures that have sprung up in Europe since the advent of broadcasting on the Continent. (Copyright: 1925: by Radio Ago. Inc.)