For some months now Carnegie Hall has stood on its Manhattan corner red and warm and shabby, a little ashamed, it seemed, to be caught staying in town during the summer. Last week it raised its head to oldtime haughtiness, threw open its doors, spilled its lights onto Fifty-seventh street, stood proud again, important, among the young upstarts that tower head and shoulders above it. It was the occasion of the first Philharmonic concert, the 2086th in the history of the Philharmonic Society, the 85th season.
There was a welcome for Conductor Josef...
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