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By RICHARD SCHNEIDER
With five recent releases, which appeared in April and May of 1992, RCA has made available a basic Munch/BSO collection in newly remastered CD premieres of recordings which have been out of print for many years. By adding the legendary 1955 Ravel Daphnis et Chloé (on Chesky vinyl as well as RCA CD) along with the 1954 Berlioz Damnation of Faust, reissued two years ago, and Berlioz's L'Enfance du Christ, reissued in August 1992, one could broaden this view considerably. Despite the lack of obvious commercial value of a few of these issues, each in its own way gives a vivid picture of the style and character of the Boston Symphony Orchestra during the Musical Directorship of Charles Munch, from 1949 through 1962.
Nearly all the early US orchestras established during the 19th century were Ger manic cultural transplants, staffed by German born or German-trained musicians, founded and led by German conductors. The BSO, founded in 1881, was no exception, but took a different turn when it appointed French born Pierre Monteux as its conductor during the 1920s.
A more profound change occurred under Monteux's successor. Russian-born, Parisian transplanted Serge Koussevitzky would be come one of the echt Franco-Russian per formers of his time. Under his highly temperamental leadership, along with personnel changes over two decades, the BSO was transformed into one of the world's great Franco Russian orchestras.
Koussevitzky, notorious among musicians as an uncompromising martinet, was none theless respected by public and critics as a supreme orchestra builder and interpreter of music. In these things he shared the good company of such generational peers as Tosca nini, Stokowski, and the up-and-coming Reiner. Under Koussevitzky's direction, the BSO became celebrated for its wide-ranging expressiveness, its dark, warm, yet unerringly firm string tone, and the brilliant, sometimes eccentric virtuosity of its solo woodwind and brass playing.
The appointment of Charles Munch as Koussevitsky's successor came as a shock to some observers. Munch's personality and style were markedly different from those of any of his predecessors. Whereas Koussevitzky was meticulous and demanding, Munch hated to rehearse, and would prefer to play on the experience and instincts of the BSO for heightened spontaneity. Some observers considered him downright lazy, and believed that the BSO's fabled discipline, a hallmark of the Koussevitzky era, was irreparably damaged under Munch's stewardship.
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BERLIOZ: Roméo et Juliet, Les nuits d'été* Margaret Roggero, mezzo; Leslie Chabay, tenor; Yi Kwei Sze, bass; Harvard Glee Club; Radcliffe Cho ral Society (G. Wallace Woodworth, dir.); Victoria de los Angeles, soprano, BSO, Charles Munch RCA 60681-2 (2 CDs only). Lewis Layton, eng.; Richard Mohr, prod. ADD. TT: 111:29
BRAHMS: Symphony 2, Tragic Overture
SCHUMANN: Genoveva Overture , Charles Munch, BSO RCA 60682-2 (2 CDs only). Lewis Layton, eng.; Richard Mohr, prod. ADD. TT: 58:35
CHAUSSON: Symphony in B-flat, Poème
SAINT-SAÉNS: Introduction & Rondo Capriccioso David Oistrakh, violin, BSO, Charles Munch RCA 60683-2 (CD only). Lewis Layton, eng.; Richard Mohr, prod. ADD. TM 56:25
DEBUSSY: Le Martyre de Saint Sélnutian, Ibéria Florence Kopleff, Catherine Akos, contraltos; Phyllis Curtin, soprano; Charles Munch, speaker; New England Conservatory Chorus (Lorna Cooke de Varon, din); BSO, Charles Munch RCA 60684-2 (CD only). Lewis Layton, eng.; Richard Mohr, prod. ADD. TT: 73:32
HONEGGER: Symphonies 2 & 5
MILHAUD: Suite provençale, La création du monde Charles Munch, BSO RCA 60685-2 (CD only). Lewis Layton, eng.; Richard Mohr, prod. ADD. Tr: 76:57
WAGNER: Orchestral Excerpts Tanuhititser: Overture & Bacchanale; Tristan und Isolde: Prelude and Liebestod; Die Walkike: Magic Fire Music; Gotterdammerung: Immolation Scene, Eileen Farrell, soprano, BSO, Charles Munch RCA 06086-2 (CD only). Lewis Layton, eng.; Richard Mohr, prod. ADD. TT 66:47
There may have been a smidgen of truth in some of these observations. On the other hand, Munch's relaxed, avuncular approach came at the twilight of the super-intensified Toscanini/NBC era, and was roughly contemporaneous with the ruthlessly correct high-colonic regime of Szell/Cleveland. With even greater relevance to fans of RCA "New Orthophonic" and the pioneering Living Stereo treasures, Munch/BSO served as a kind of down'n'dirty alternative to the intriguingly lucid, boldly detailed, yet oddly cerebral Reiner/Chicago Symphony recordings.
How Munch arrived at his flamboyant spontaneity makes for a fascinating personal profile. Born in the French Alsace of half German, half-French background, he was trained as a violinist, and served as concert master of the Leipzig Gewandhaus, where he performed under the likes of Furtwangler, Weingartner, and Walter. Conducting ambition brought him to Paris and, after WWII, guest-conducting appearances in the US. Seeking a replacement for their beloved but frail and aging Koussevitzky, the Bostonians were swept away by Munch's ecstatic musicality as well as his personal charm.
Under Munch's directorship, the BSO became less Franco-Russian, more Franco American. For all the success he enjoyed as a guest conductor elsewhere, Munch's BSO sound was singular: the Koussevitzky BSO, foot to floorboard, brights on. Nothing like it could be heard elsewhere, not even in his recordings with Parisian orchestras.
At first glance and hearing, these recordings of works by Brahms, Schumann, and Wagner may seem far afield. In today's heavily industrialized music business, these works wouldn't be recorded by an orchestra that sounds like the 1950s BSO. But the orchestras and conductors who have bought into today's music business are trained to be idiomatically correct at all costs. This 1955 Brahms 2 may not replace all others in your collection, but it is, for all its eccentricity, a far more liberated and expressive performance than some recent entries by today's movers and shakers. Schumann's Genoveva Overture, recorded in mono in 1951 and especially prized by Munch collectors, makes its first appearance since the initial 10" LP. The Wagner is arguably the most stylistically bizarre disc of the non-French releases, especially in the Immolation Scene. They seem to be making the statement, "This is the way we play it. Period." Tannhauser's pilgrim music may not be quite what we're used to, but the Bacchanale is an orgy of sexual tension and afterglow that knows few rivals.
Eileen Farrell is the fat lady, and it isn't over until she sings. She may not be Nilsson or Norman, but fortunately, she isn't Behrens or Martón either. Farrell is just right, honest, and true to herself and her roles. Listen to this disc and Barenboim's recent CSO Wagner CD on Erato; Munch's is the one you'll want to hear again.
Munch's ability to tread the fine line between protagonist and accompanist in working with soloists is more modestly displayed in Chaus son's Poème, and in Saint-Saens's Introduction and Rondo Capriccios° with David Oistrakh.
Munch recorded with nearly all of RCA's important artists. Hopefully, there'll be more to come. Unfortunately, a vulgar and bathetic side of Munch's musical disposition is all too evident in Chausson's Symphony in B-flat.
RCA made an important and highly gratifying artistic decision to release Munch's 1953 mono recording of Berlioz's Romeo et Juliette, rather than the 1961 remake. Despite better known soloists and stereo in 1961, Munch/ BSO were but a pale shadow of their earlier selves, and the stereo sound was a spacey, nebulous wash. The digital remastering more than lives up to the '53 recording, which was one of the great mono LP sets: close, incisive, highly detailed, and always convincing on its own terms. Once you've heard this performance of Romeo, chances are it won't matter that others by the likes of Inbal, Levine, Dutoit, or even Sir Colin Davis are in stereo.
This is the one that gets the job done, with commensurate sonics. The coupling with Les nuits d'été, with Victoria de los Angeles, is no minor consideration.
Honegger and Milhaud were two of Munch's own contemporaries. Honegger's Symphony 5 of 1949 was one of the earliest BSO com missions of Munch's reign. He premiered the work, performed it often, and made this mono recording in 1953. No one has since captured the dramatic intensity or the very special instrumental color of this work; as with the Berlioz, later stereo recordings may not matter once you've heard this one.
The Milhaud selections, recorded in 1960 and 1961, are of superdisc class. Originally issued, with artwork, on the premium Soria Series, the La creation du monde side was the stuff of which vinyl heaven is made. There were problems with Suite provençale, especially with the piccolo duo which opens the final movement-a cutting and tracking night mare. La création lives up to its former self and Provençale is improved beyond expectation, the piccolo players' reputations rescued at last. The Milhaud works are in great stereo, and incomparably performed.
If there is a single pièce de résistance among the French repertoire, Le Martyre de Saint Sébastian would be the likely candidate.
Although slightly abridged, this performance conveys the experience of an elaborate piece of incidental music to a mystery play by Gabrielle d'Annunzio. This strange work is, by any reckoning, a powerful saga of homo erotic passion and ritual human sacrifice, veiled as a Christian martyrdom second only to the Crucifixion. The gap between the He brew Adonai and the Greek Monis is but a tiptoe through the Court of Lilies, the Magic Chamber, and the other enchantingly pagan twilight zones in which the story is played out.
The performance is narrated by the over dubbed Munch, who, in his late '60s, read from the lines of the adolescent Sebastian. Very strange, yet touchingly beautiful. Munch could have been one of the great actors of the French speaking world. Restoration of Munch's narration track, and its joining to the stereo master for this issue, exemplifies the dedication and skill of Nat Johnson and his staff at BMG Classical.
The callow sound and distinctively non native French of the NEC Chorus are obvious enough, yet it was Munch's genius that he could make a virtue of such flaws. The eerie moods, haunting tensions, and indescribable brilliance of this performance are rivaled only by the celebrated Munch/BSO Daphnis et Chloé. Despite apparent problems (there are a few brief mono passages), Le Martyre is a sonic feast for the audiophile gourmet of any persuasion. The annotation is complete, and includes a key element missing even from the initial LP edition: text and translation of the narration. Finally, we non-French speakers can get in on the action.
Sonically, each of the stereo recordings recalls the best days of RCA's early stereo in Symphony Hall. RCA is preparing a special Living Stereo series, modeled on the style and success of the Mercury Living Presence CDs.
It's tempting to imagine how much better they might sound, or to speculate how long it might be until RCA gets Sony's Super Bit Mapping. These CDs sound very damn good just as they are-dynamic, spacious, and full-range, with only an ethereal vestige of tape hiss. Each selection ends with enough sustained "environment" to allay the shock of the sudden digital stop. And there are no phony "tails." A job well done. Whether you acquire all of these tides, or just one or two, you will own a piece of audio and performance history that no audiophile or orchestral collector should be without.
[adapted from Nov-1992 issue]
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