Phonograph Monthly Review, Vol. 1, No. 10 (1927-07)

438 The Phonograph Monthly Review Victor 20806-7—Rossini: Overture to William Tell. 2 DIOs. 75c each. Played by the Victor Symphony Orchestra, con- ducted by Rosario Bourdon. The task of an orchestra and a recording company to arouse attention and admiration with a version of a work that has never been recorded before and but seldom played in concert is a comparatively easy one; that of galvanzing a battle- scarred war-horse into a prize winner in the musical Derby, so to speak, is an extremely difficult one. The William Tell has suffered more under the ungentle handling of every kind of a musical organization, from a grammar school string orchestra to a full military band than any composition before or since. It has enjoyed popularity in the fullest sense; of late even the movie palaces are beginning to deem themselves “above” it. And then along came this recording. . . . Imagine one’s surprise on seeing an elderly and decrepid veteran of fabulous age suddenly cast away his crutches and break into a sprint that would turn Charles Paddock green with envy! One’s surprise on hearing these two innocent ap- pearing (on the outside) records played is no less unbounded. What Mr. Bourdon has done is taken the Overture as an entirely new composition to be given a first performance, drilled his orchestra—a splendid one—to perfection, and then made a recorded interpretation that is a revelation. One begins to say of Rossini, “Who would have thought the old man had so much blood in him!” The humblest piece of music is worth doing well, at least once, this recording “does” William Tell once and for all. Listening to it in the concert hall had come to be a bore; now it will be an impossibility because no performance can hope to approach this superlative one. As for the recording, it can only be said that it sets a new high mark for brilliance and realism. Listen to the timpani in the Storm section, for example. In the old days the kettle drums were either absent entirely or brought out with such intensity they strongly resembled a heavy hail storm on a tin roof. Even with the advent of the new process one had to depend to some extent on his imagination; the drums were there all right but never exactly as they sound in the concert hall. Here is the most authentic recording of the timpani to date. They are not unduly prominent, but they are genuine in tone quality and effect. Mr. Bourdon, the Victor Symphony, and above all the Victor Recording Director deserve the highest praise for a truly remarkable achievement. What a work like Rimsky- Korsakow’s Scheherazade would be in a similar recording is something one doesn’t dare even to think about. We had thought the day of surprises in recording drawing to a close, but it seems to be just beginning! Victor 6652—Liszt: Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2. D12, $2.00. Played by the Philadelphia Orchestra conducted by Leopold Stokowski. The Victor Company seems not content merely to “dust off the old ones,” it must completely rejuvenate them! Given Stokowski in a mood almost perversely fantastic, the full resources of the Philadelphia Orchestra, and recording of the same standard as that of the William Tell—this reading of the Second Hungarian can be imagined as super-Lisztian. The interpretation is perhaps as temperamental as even Liszt’ music can bear, but there can be no questioning it. Later on one may come to decide in his own mind whether such almost unconceivable brilliance is worth the aesthetic price one must pay for it; whether such a record as this (and “knock out” is the only term that can be apolied to it) is going to mean anything more than a “stunt” of sheerest bravado. If it were less significant, one could never forgive it; as it is, one must doff one’s hat in tribute to a virtuoso feat of the first order. Comparisons with any other recorded version are of course impossible. The only detail one might mention is the re- cording of the basses at the beginning. Again, realism in recording seems to have reached its highest pitch. It cannot be described. Victor 6648—Handel: Largo and Elgar: Pomp and Cir- cumstance; Chicago Symphony. (One of the five special Chicago releases; now made generally available. See review on page 366 of the May issue.) Victor 35822—Gershwin: Rhapsody in Blue. D12, $1.25. Played by Paul Whiteman and his Concert Orchestra with the composer as soloist. An electrical re-recording by the same men of the work that made jazz not only famous, but a legitimate musical idiom. Of the historical importance of the first Rhapsody record it is hardly necessary to speak here; it is sufficient to say that with its issue both Gershwin and Whiteman established their own fame along with that of jazz. That of the composer has continued to grow (a statement unfortunately hardly true of that of Whiteman) until he has now firmly established himself as a figure to be reckoned with in contemporary American music, not to be dismissed as a rather precocious exponent of “popular” stage successes. This new record is surprising in a rather unexpected way. Instead of displacing the old one, it complements it. One listens to it for a moment in bewilderment; a bewilderment by no means caused by the natural improvement in the electrical recording. Suddenly one realizes that this is not merely a re-recording of the Rhapsody, it is a re-creation of it. The interpretation, the performance, the whole conception of the work has been changed. The new version is more sophisti- cated, more subtle; if it lacks the spontaneity and almost youthful gusto of the older one, it has gained immensely in a score of ways. In short, it is the Rhapsody grown up and come of age. What regrets we may have for its dead youth are forgotten in our admiration of its maturity. From a recording standpoint the first side of the new rec- ord falls a little short of the perfection we are coming to take for granted of late, but beyond this very mild criticism one has only the highest praise for the entire work. It is some- thing that no one can afford to ignore, whether it is considered as the apotheosis of jazz, a pioneer effort in the new American music, or as a brilliant and fantastic tour de force. THe pres- ent writer holds strongly to the conviction that a study of the work (both in score, concert, and by means of the acoustic and electric recordings) will bring about a sincere respect and liking for one of the most striking and notable contributions of this country to music. Parlophone E 10555-6—Beethoven: Battle Symphony, or Wellington’s Victory at Vittoria. 2 D12s. Played by the Orchestra of the Berlin State Opera House conducted by Dr. Weissmann. Beethoven, like lesser men, was not above putting his art to practical purposes; indeed, many a piece d’occasion can be numbered among his works. The Battle Symphony is his most ambitious attempt of the sort and wffiile it is by no means a “Tenth Symphony,” it is both exceedingly interest- ing and amusing, not only for the circumstances of manufac- ture, but also for itself. It is practically never played in concert and the present writer shared the prevalent opinion that the work must be a terribly crude piece of vulgarity, a sin which only Beethoven’s subsequent masterpieces could ever wipe out and which had better be discreetly forgotten in order that it might not further sully his name. Hearing the above recording—a most admirable one from every point of view—brought about a hasty abandonment of the old opinion. The purely musical value of the work is slight to the point of intangibility, to be sure, but nevertheless it gives cause for great joy: flourishes of trumpets, timpanists earn- estly striving to substitute for heavy artillery, “God Save the King” grandioso e trionfale, representing Wellington triumph- ant, and “Malbrough s’en va-t-en guerre,” sotto voce, repre- senting the defeated French slinking despondently away, galloping of horses, ’n’ everything! Before referring to some of the incidents connected with the composition of this work, it should be stated in no un- certain terms that both performance and recording are ex- cellent in this Parlophone version (the only one—so far). Dr. Weissmann evidently accepted his task with gusto; he conducts in just the right spirit, without exaggeration or at- tempts to poke fun at the work—like a good story teller, he doesn’t laugh himself, amusing his hearers all the more be- cause of that. The recording itself is easily the best example of German electrical recording yet heard at the Studio; it is vigorous without being “sharp” or extreme, and it possesses adequate tonal qualities. The native companies may well look to their laurels if Parlophone continues to develop in this fashion. Now to the story. Malzel (inventor of the piano student’s Guide, counselor, and Mend—the metronome, also of auto-