“Leopold Stokowski made his début yesterday afternoon at the Academy as conductor of the Philadelphia Orchestra, in the opening concert of its thirteenth season. Every seat was taken and the extra chairs had been placed within the orchestra rail. There was much enthusiasm, manifesting itself at the beginning in prolonged applause as Stokowski came forward with bowed head, evidently pondering the content of his musical message. Those who went forth to see a hirsute eccentricity were disappointed. They beheld a surprisingly boyish and thoroughly business-like figure, who was sure of himself, yet free from conceit, who dispensed with the score by virtue of an infallible memory, and held his men and his audience from first note to last firmly in his grasp. “Mr. Stokowski has known the players, and they have known him, for only four days of actual rehearsal, and it was not to be expected that the organization at the outset would manifest the homogeneity to be expected later. Yet in this brief time the new leader has been surprisingly successful in welding the several choirs into a single coherent entity. They played yesterday with a unity of purpose—particularly among the first violins—not usually attained until mid-winter. They brought out the full value of the lights and shadows. The climaxes were duly accentuated, the pianissimos with the utmost delicacy and refinement were contrasted with the full throated polyphony. “METHODS OF CONDUCTOR “Mr. Stokowski’s conducting is after the order of Nikisch, whom he frankly admires. He does not tear a passion to tatters. He holds his thunders and the winds of Aeolus in a leash. His gestures are graphic, the arcs and parabolas he describes tell of a kind of geometrical translation going on in his mind, whereby he visualizes the confluent rhythms in outward action. At impassioned moments his movements have the freedom of a violinist’s bow arm; at other instants he brings his fists against his shoulders with vehement concentration, or his uplifted eloquent left hand pleads with some suppressed choir to come forward and assert itself in power. There is, from first to last, no languor or slackened moment; he directs with a fine vigor and intensity that mounts to ecstasy yet does not lose its balance or forget its sane and ordered method. * * * * * “TRIBUTE PRESENTED” “At the close of the symphony a laurel wreath was laid on the dais ere Mr. Stokowski found his way to the footlights in response to the tumultuous applause. The wreath was so large that he stood in it while he called upon his musicians to rise, himself applauding their efforts and modestly disavowing his leonine share of the credit.” [Illustration: © R. T. Dooner LEOPOLD STOKOWSKI]