We use Optical Character Recognition (OCR) during our scanning and processing workflow to make the content of each page searchable. You can view the automatically generated text below as well as copy and paste individual pieces of text to quote in your own work.
Text recognition is never 100% accurate. Many parts of the scanned page may not be reflected in the OCR text output, including: images, page layout, certain fonts or handwriting.
STOKOWSKI,
the Pole, was born in England
THE big man in his shirt-sleeves who labors with prodigious energy at the Columbia Broadcasting studios is Leopold Stokowski, the celebrated orchestra conductor of the Philadelphia Symphony.
No man has a deeper belief in the integrity of his art than this Polish gentleman born in London in 1882. As a boy, he learned violin, piano, organ, theory and harmony.
His studies were completed at the Paris Conservatory during the last century. In 1900 he was a church organ¬ ist in London. In 1905 he came to New York to occupy the same position at Saint Bartholomew’s. In 1909 he was invited to become conductor of the Cincinnati orchestra — dnd he accepted.
His passion always has been to create music that will stir and please the masses. The Cincinnati post gave him this opportunity. With a half-hundred musicians at his command he was able to do so much more than when limited by the console of his church organ. He worked night and day until the Cincinnati ensemble was known throughout the world.
One of the oldest and finest symphony organizations in America is at Philadelphia. In 1912 a vacancy occurred — and Stokowski was invited to assume its leadership. He did so — and has been there ever since.
When radio was mentioned to him, he became enthu¬ siastic, seeing it as a new outlet for his music . . . and a new source of comfort and joy to the millions who had been without music. But as he attacked the problem, he realized that the mechanical business of picking up the sounds made by a symphony orchestra and putting them on the air had never been perfected. So he went to work in his shirt-sleeves, experimenting with new mikes, new pick-ups, different seating arrangements. He had tubas playing in pits and clarinets on ladders. He had violins with their backs to the mike and French horns blowing through felt pads. And finally he got the result he wanted.
As result, William S. Paley, CBS president, had a special medal struck off in appreciation and recognition of Stokowski’s distinguished contribution to radio progress.
27