Word: 57th
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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...horse for 50 guineas, but a print of his wife brings only 5." With this sage precept in mind, a group of Manhattan socialites set out to organize an exhibition for the benefit of civilian relief in France. Result: a sprightly show that opened on Manhattan's 57th Street last week-"The Horse...
Today, 22-year-old, dark-haired Ellen Stone lives with her horn in a little bare-floored room off Manhattan's musical 57th Street. For amusement she goes to the movies, reads "great sociological novels like The Grapes of Wrath." But her big thrills come when her boy friends (mostly fellow horn players) ask her out for an evening of horn duets and trios. Her hero: sober, 180-lb., 52-year-old Bruno Jaenicke, world's champion horn player, who beeps and purls in John Barbirolli's New York Philharmonic-Symphony...
...nearly half of them secured in the three months ended Sept. 15. Two-thirds of this backlog is for corporate accounts-all the way from $20-50,000 plant additions, to a super store for Tiffany & Co. on the elegant corner of Manhattan's Fifth Avenue and 57th Street. From the U. S. it has $7,800,000 in orders: for USHA's Tasker Street Housing project in Philadelphia, for U. S. Navy's air bases building on the strategic Pacific islands, Hawaii, Midway, Johnston, Palmyra...
Last week Louis Eilshemius was again hailed as "the greatest living master"-this time by somebody else.* In three of Manhattan's swank 57th Street galleries- Kleemann, Boyer, Valentine, he was being given simultaneous one-man shows. Another Eilshemius exhibition was touring the Pacific Coast; a fifth was about to be sent through the Middle West. In seven short years the Mahatma has turned from a crank to a cult. Manhattan's sedate Metropolitan Museum has three of his canvases, and he is represented in virtually every important public and private art collection...
...been many a day since the Mahatma has gone to an exhibition. At 75, he is a cripple confined to his second-story bedroom in a gloomy, gaslit brownstone house on 57th Street. Eilshemius persists in sitting with his back to the window, his face turned away from the light. He shrills at visitors: "It's too late to enjoy my fame. I got bad legs...