Edward Tatnall Canby
Familiar Classics Revisited
Tchaikovsky: Romeo and Juliet; Theme and Variations from Suite No. 3.
Moscow Philharmonic, Kondrashin.
Melodiya Angel SR 40090 stereo ($5.98)
If a pair of attractive cover nudes, young male and female, can sell you on Tchaikovsky you'll go out and buy this one quick. Betcha that cover wasn't made in Moscow. More like out of Capitol in Hollywood.
Once past the nudity and into the music, you'll find an interesting and thoughtful performance of the early Tchaikovsky classic, old fashioned in the best sense, done with all leisure, allowing a full impact for every musical effect. The slow, ominous portions, notably at the beginning, are given their full head as only Willem Mengelberg could do it many years ago (he is still audible on records); the fast, violent parts go at breakneck speed but never are merely hysterical. In our day of mass-production standard classics, this performance surely stands out for its integrity and freshness. I liked it. The Theme and Variations, with violin solo (Boris Simsky) is done in a similar mellow fashion and should also please you on side 2.
The Russian sound is expansive and impressive but, curiously, also mildly old fashioned for the hi-fi ear.
Not easy to say just how. I'd guess (a) that the microphoning is somewhat "out of date" by our taste, reminding of ours, say, around 1960; (b) the very loud parts are not quite as clean as we now expect; (c) and there is perhaps some moderate compression-hard to avoid in a contrasty piece like this. I also note (d) what seems to be less than hard transients, the familiar ker-thump of kettledrums, though the trouble could well be to some extent in the large, rather tubby acoustic surround. None of this will bother your musical enjoyment in the least-pure curiosity impels a mention. The over-all sonic effect is well suited to the style of the performance.
Performance: B+
Sound: B
Goldmark: Rustic Wedding Symphony.
New York Philharmonic, Bernstein.
Columbia MS 7261 stereo ($5.98)
Just lovely! It has been years since I last heard this old ex-chestnut. (It used to be played all the time in symphony concerts.) I had forgotten how genuine a work of sheer Teutonic corn it is. Under Bernstein's loving hands, the music really glows with gentle life, a kind of fruity Brahms but less consequential and much more lush. Nearest to it is perhaps that perennial favorite opera, Hansel and Gretel by Engelbert Humperdinck (not the pop singer, please! the original man). That work exudes the same kind of nostalgic schmalz; but this one is somewhat more complex and of a more turn-of-the-century harmonic substance, a German version of Sir Edward Elgar. (The work begins with variations, faintly reminiscent of Elgar's Enigma Variations) . Believe me, it takes the special near-sentimental sincerity of Leonard Bernstein to make this old fashioned music shine as it does in this recording.
Performance: A
Sound: B
Stravinsky: The Rite of Spring; Scherzo a la Russe (the composer's two-piano arrangements). Michael Tilson Thomas, Ralph Grierson, pianists.
Angel S 36024 stereo ($5.98)
It is always astonishing to find how much of a well known orchestral piece can be suggested by the monotone coloration of the piano, whether via two hands, four hands, or two keyboards. In the case of this new Angel recording, however, the musical cart comes before the horse. These were working arrangements made before there was any orchestral music. The Rite of Spring for two pianists at two pianos dates from 1912. It was this piano score (or various alternative one-piano versions) that was heard by all those who were working on the ballet production to come, rather than the orchestral version now so familiar.
In the early spring of that year, Stravinsky played it with none other than Claude Debussy as the second pianist.
On its cover Angel makes a good thing of the youthfulness of the two brilliant West Coast pianists who play it here. Some of the photos are apparently several years old; a pair of longhaired page turners, at each piano, accentuates the "now" quality of the scene. Actually, the two are at this point 25 and 27, old enough for maturity, and their playing is of an incredible, machine-like accuracy
throughout that oddly suits the musical substance. As always, dissonance familiar in orchestral form is accentuated, made even more acerbic, by the piano's percussiveness. No wonder the music impressed the experts who first heard it! Virtually all of those last faint traces of Romanticism still observable in the slow parts of the orchestral work are here suppressed, partly by the nature of the piano, more positively in the nature of the playing. These boys are cool customers, seemingly nerveless, totally competent with both rhythm and fingering.
The piano sound is ideally distributed in the stereo with just enough separation so that we can tell which pianist is playing what, yet with an over-all blend that presents the whole music as it should be heard, in one piece. The sound is hard and precise, properly in line with both the music and the performance. I'd rate the whole project as impressively cool, almost chilly, rather than hot-blooded
-but this is surely part of the music's message, especially in this one-color piano form. The Scherzo a la Russe is a brief much later commissioned piece, originally for Paul Whiteman's band in 1944.
Performance: A
Sound: A
Entremont Plays the Chopin Waltzes.
Columbia MS 7196 stereo ($5.98)
The record cover on this one shows Philippe Entremont, dressed in his tails and white tie, standing up at the piano keyboard, playing (presumably) the Chopin Waltzes in a most undignified position. We trust he didn't record them that way. It doesn't sound so. They flow and purr and dance with the nicest elan, all grace and elegance but never either effete-as in some performances-or metallic and explosive-as in others.
Entremont is a natural-born musician and perceiver of musical meaning, showman or no.
The sound is unusually gracious for Columbia, which tends towards a hard, close-up piano in many dozens of its recordings. Here, there is smoothness and sheen, plus a good concert hall liveness to place the music in a sort of ball room perspective.
Fine disc.
Performances: A
Sound: B+
Pablo Casals conducts Schubert Unfinished Symphony, Mozart Symphony No. 40. Marlboro Festival Orchestra.
Columbia MS 7262 stereo ($5.98)
A number of unusual circumstances obtained in this recording from the "live" summer Marlboro Festival of 1968. Pablo Casals, now in his 90s, still was able to conduct-which takes plenty of sheer physical energy. The Marlboro orchestra is, if I am right, a mixture of seasoned pros and brilliant young players who come to sit at the feet of the mighty and absorb their wisdom. The oldest form of education in existence! Thus here we have the musical style of the late nineteenth century in the person of Casals himself, grafted onto generation upon generation of younger musicians who do the actual playing.
(Youth, remember, is quick to absorb, even when it is the style of the ancients.) Their earnestness is at once evident.
Columbia has done well with the sound, which somehow is a lot better than most concert tapings. Could they have added some artificial reverb? It would help, and maybe does. There is almost no audience noise (though the background is not exactly Dolby-silent) and only those occasional gentle swishes that represent the remains of an edited cough suggest, most unobtrusively, that there was indeed some interference of an audience type.
The music is very much in a familiar vein (to me, an older ear), a good old performance of the Unfinished with all the pathos and none of the nerves and mannerisms of more recent attempts. Only the fairly rapid tempo of the slow movement might indicate that Casals here is playing in the sixties instead of, perhaps, 1910 when he was merely middle aged. Because the Unfinished is quite a leisurely symphony in both its two movements, there are no problems with the Marlboro ensemble.
The Mozart G Minor is less happy.
Partly it is because this work is much more demanding in terms of orchestral accuracy in all its movements.
Partly, it just sounds old fashioned and out of style as Casals conducts it.
Too symphonic-in the Romantic manner-is the best way to describe what I have in mind, even though the orchestra is physically not very large.
It is a manner of playing that is no
longer suitable, less crisp, more sprawling in detail than the best Mozart and Haydn performances today, forcing the music to sound bigger than it should.
Keep in mind that in Casals' day the G minor was the great Mozart symphony, seemingly a serious and proto-Romantic work in contrast to what seemed the frivolity of most of the other symphonies. The G Minor, accordingly, always got the "heavy" treatment, to emphasize its profundity of emotion.. We no longer think that way today. We see profundity beneath even the lightest-hearted Mozart. And so there is no longer any reason to perform the G Minor with that doomful sound that somehow implies it is striving to be the Unfinished of Schubert, far ahead of its time. The Symphony is great enough without such anachronisms.
Note an occasional curious growling noise. It is Casals at work. Most of the great performers seem to suffer from vocal incontinence, especially on the Columbia label! Glenn Gould is a famed vocalizer and even Rudolph Serkin, Marlboro's head man, has been known to sing his own accompaniment before the stereo mikes.
Performances: B+, B
Sound: B
Beethoven: Symphony No. 6 "Pastoral." Boston Symphony, Leinsdorf.
RCA LSC 3074 stereo ($5.98)
Perhaps it was unconscious mental indigestion on my part-but I did not react with any favor to this Sixth Symphony. It is all too American in an opulent sense, played by this self styled "aristocrat of orchestras" in a fashion that somehow says to me, look how good we are, how big and powerful, too. It is not, for my ear, dedicated to Beethoven. It is dedicated to Erich Leinsdorf and the BSO. The whole thing is both too hard and too smooth, too much the mailed fist in the nylon glove. The Pastoral is the toughest of all the Symphonies to project convincingly, for it is both subtle and naive, a wonderfully organized and yet utterly trusting work; it must be approached, somehow, with a compassionate humanity of feeling, in the playing as in the conducting.
Instead, when this disc began to spin I received a strong mental image of the prosperous BSO, best pro players in the world, sitting there sleekly doing their thing, professionally perfect, even if this was the 99th time that old chestnut had hit the Boston boards. An evil approach to any Beethoven, but especially the Sixth. As for Leinsdorf, my inner ear tells me he is fussily self-conscious about effects, exaggerating each pp, each sf, as though double strength might give double value. The opening movement is pure Madison avenue. The jolly scherzo in the village is violent enough to sweep Beethoven's peasants off their jolly feet. As for the famed storm, it is as you might expect, literally the loudest, fiercest version imaginable-and insincere for it. Beethoven does not make good Berlioz. Only the quiet, gentle finale variations begin to take off into sincere, meaningful musical expression. So I heard it.
Sorry. I'll have to take a turns next time.
Performance: C+
Sound: B
Smetana: The Moldau and Other Works.
Slovak Philharmonic of Bratislava, Ladislav Slovak, Ludovit Rajter.
RCA Victrola VICS 1443 stereo ($2.98)
Well, I dunno. The Czechs, of course, usually do a splendid job conducting their own national music --but these are the Slovaks, from the other end of the country. (Very confusing: one of the two conductors here is named Slovak. Bet he's a Czech.) I found the record reasonably pleasing, but no more. The Slovak orchestra isn't too accurate in detail, though its playing is intelligent and easy, and the recorded sound has some typical East-Europe drawbacks, a bit of distortion of a metallic sort in the loud passages, a slightly thumpish variety of percussion sound (transients) and, if I am right, quite a dose of volume compression. This makes the softer parts of the music, the cleanest in sound, rather unnaturally loud and close as compared to the climaxes. We have moved well away from these familiar faults, and a good thing too.
The disc includes, besides Smetana's old favorite Moldau, Murmurs of Spring (Sinding), the Secret of Suzanne Overture (Wolf Ferrari), the familiar Dances of Galanta by Kodaly and something called Donna Diana, the overture to an opera by Reznicek. It turns out to be very familiar light-music stuff. As the notes say, consider this to be a comfortable concert ... It is, generally speaking.
But not very exciting.
Performances: B
Sound: C+
The Richest Sound on Earth. (Six Acclaimed Triumphs of the Recording Art from the Fabulous Philadelphia Collection on Columbia Records.) Philadelphia Orchestra, Ormandy.
Columbia MGP 7 stereo (two discs)
This, we note, is the Columbia version of the "Richest Sound on Earth," not the current RCA variant. Not much more need be said, except that these two discs, which I assume are specially priced,. contain the big sound-sensations you might expect: Side 1, the Pines of Rome by Respighi. Side 2, the Bach Toccata and Fugue in D Minor (transcribed by Ormandy, succeeding the famous Philadelphia-Stokowsky transcription) , and the Prokofieff Classical Symphony. Side 3, Tchaikowsky's Capriccio Italien and the Dance of the Apprentices and Entrance of the Meistersingers from the Wagner opera. Side 4, Ravel's Bolero. No doubt between them all these items have already sold millions of copies.
Guaranteed to please.
Emanuel Bach
T. A. Arne and C. P. E. Bach. (Arne: Harpsichord Concerto No. 5 in G Minor; Sonata No. 1 in F; Overture No. 1 in E Minor. C. P. E. Bach: Symphony No. 2 in B flat; Vars. on Folies d'Espagne; Concerto in C Minor.) George Malcolm, hps., Academy of St. Martin-in-the-Fields, Marriner. Argo ZRG 577 stereo ($5.95)
C. P. E. Bach: Four Hamburg Symphonies.
(B minor, A, C, B flat). Gustav Leonhardt, hps. Collegium Aureum. RCA Victrola VICS 1453 stereo ($2.50) Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach, usually called Emanuel Bach, was the middle son among the three highly gifted children of old Papa Bach, J. S. himself, out of the fabled 21 offspring produced by the old man via two wives. Emanuel's influence on the musical art, in the intense transition period between late Baroque and that gallant and sometimes near-Romantic music which led to Mozart, Haydn, and Beethoven, was tremendous in his lifetime and even on into the Beethoven period, the early 19th century.
Now, Emanuel, like so many others, is coming out of the history books into renewed musical life once more, as witness these two among many recent recordings.
It is a curious style of symphony, highly original but also rather conservative in format, removed from the familiar tradition founded (or better, consolidated) by Haydn. Three movements like a concerto, fast slow fast, often running into one another and cast in the binary form familiar in Scarlatti, Handel, and Papa Bach as well as a thousand other Baroque composers, these works are more like the brief Italian Sinfonia-with far more seriousness and content, however, than the charmingly frittery little works which the Italians wrote to preface their musical stage pieces.
Emanuel's most profound music here is in the slow movements, which are full of his marvelous experiments in expressive harmony. The outer movements go like the wind are very "busy" in that bustling style which was the beginning of the Mozart-Haydn allegro.
Argo's record offers the same B fiat Symphony as that on side 2 of the RCA disc, for an interesting comparison.. (RCA's orchestra of "authentic" strings plays the music a half tone low, in A, which is the original pitch intended in Bach's time.) Argo also offers a harpsichord concerto (much like the symphonies) for George Malcolm, the featured artist, plus a set of solo variations on the familiar "La Folia" theme set by Corelli for violin. RCA's record, from the German Harmonia Mundi label, is all symphony; another well known harpsichordist, Gustav Leonhardt, presides modestly at the continuo keyboard.
I found the British orchestra somewhat more sensitive in its playing, the German group a bit on the driving, nervous side-though to be sure, Bach writes plenty of nervousness into his music. Argo's British sound is closer and drier than the expansive German sound. The two discs are close to an equality as far as communication is concerned. (The price difference is all the sillier.) As for Thomas Arne, the history books have long pigeonholed him as just another British second-rater under the shadow of Handel; somebody's ears were unsubtle when that judgment was made, a long while back. (No LP records to help.) Arne is more conservative and far less original than Emanuel Bach but, surprisingly, he sounds out very clearly of his own generation, 25 years younger than Handel. He writes in an outwardly Handelian manner but the sound--to our ears now--is clearly different, already implying the turn to gallant music which was to overwhelm England a dozen or more years after these works were composed. The Arne side of the Argo record parallels the Bach, with an orchestral work, a concerto and brief solo sonata, for Mr. Malcolm's harpsichord.
Performances: A-, A
Sound: B, B
Electronic-Plus
Charles Wuorinen: Time's Encomium.
For synthesized and processed synthesized sound.
Nonesuch H 71225 stereo ($2.98)
Andrew Rudin: Tragoedia. For electronic music synthesizer.
Nonesuch 71198 stereo ($2.98)
Kenneth Gaburo: Music for Voices, Instruments, and Electronic Sounds. New Music Choral Ensemble, Univ. of Illinois Contemporary Chamber Players, Gaburo.
Nonesuch H 71199 stereo ($2.98)
Morton Subotnick: The Wild Bull. For electronic music synthesizer.
Nonesuch H 71208 stereo ($2.98)
Three of these four Nonesuch commissions are here reviewed late-and for good reason. They arrived at a time when suddenly the air was full of electronics. Dozens of records were hurled onto the market all in a rush to get on some sort of sales bandwagon (as far as I can figure) and no honest reviewer in his senses could possibly have listened to such an enormous barrage with any intelligent reaction, even if there weren't parallel masses of Beethoven, Mozart, and the rest! Better late than never. Luckily, a private project came up that brought me to these discs with extended attention. I was very decidedly impressed. The Nonesuch series, I would suggest, is qualitatively far ahead of a lot of the stuff that still is being thrown out at us.
I would suggest, however, that you admire the sensitive cover designs of Elaine Gongora on several of these, as you listen, and studiously ignore the "program notes" on the reverse until your own ear has had a chance to adjust to these new sounds. It is the habit of most young composers, and many middle aged ones, to write preposterously pretentious annotations of a sort designed to impress their professional colleagues rather than reassure the unknowing outsider (who buys the record, after all). Not that the notes are false, or in the end lack usefulness. But it is so easy to be snobbish and obscure in words, where the musical product itself-even electronic-is a far more direct and honest presentation to the ear. I warn you that if you read these accounts before listening, you will merely be intimidated. Put off. Even horrified.
Like, say, "The poem, with regard to its formal design, semantic and phonetic content, morphology and articulatory potential (governed on one level by concern for intelligibility), to a large extent determined the structure of the composition." OK, OK, but how about saying it in English? That would help.
These are works of the new and much improved generation of electronic sound, cleanly synthesized, richly varied, bright, percussive, no longer with that dull "recorded" sound of the early attempts, so often lifeless in color and lacking in any transient impact. Impossible to characterize each in detail-but speaking generally, there are several further points. Not only is the sound clean and varied but the style of sound is now more fully in line with electronic capabilities, full of short, sharp twitters, blops, twangs, sizzles, with a minimum of those dismal dun-colored wailings so common in the older music. Moreover, the shift from tempered pitch to all-inclusive pitch-no fixed scales-is marvelously well accomplished, again very much in line with the medium's own nature. This is a lot more important than we may yet realize.
Further: the greatest single element of dramatic exposition in these very long works is tempo, the sense of speed or slowness of motion which has governed traditional music of all sort and here reasserts itself in new terms. Morton Subotnick, for instance, has some of the most purely fast music I ever hope to hear on side 1 of his splendid "Wild Bull," an absolutely breathtaking tempo and one of the most powerfully exciting displays of sound-power I have ever heard.
Similarly and oppositely, Kenneth Gaburo's Music for Voices, Instruments, and Electronic Sounds includes a long slow movement that is full of the most startlingly silent pauses, briefly interrupted at precisely the right rhythmic intervals to produce an ultra-slow feeling of tempo. (And what gorgeously silent record faces! Not a breath of sound for seconds at a time, as though the amplifier were turned off.) Finally, in this last work, there is the now-triumphant combination of electronic and "live" sounds that has been working itself out in terms of performance needs these last few years. (Composers, generally still oriented towards live audiences, object to a "live" performance solely via loudspeakers in a hall. Who wouldn't?) The choral movements, the startling single voice of a soprano, the sudden bray of brass, are beautifully integrated with the electronic elements of the Gaburo piece.
Only Charles Wuorinen's recent "Time's Encomium," worked out on the relatively ancient Columbia-Princeton (RCA) Music Synthesizer, has a curiously academic and non-electronic sound to it, one of relative conservatism. The reason is interesting. In the composer's words, "The RCA Synthesizer ... is prejudiced by its design toward 12-tone equal temperament." And so his music is composed in the tempered scale like "old fashioned" music. Who would have ever thought it would sound strange, as electronic music, because of this very fact? It does. That's how far we have come.
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(Audio magazine, 11/1969)
Also see:
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