Phonograph Monthly Review, Vol. 3, No. 8 (1929-05)

The Phonograph Monthly Review 277 May, 1929 11 !' recorders, but their ambition outran their power at that sjage of the game. Loud and hoarse were the voices of irate gramophiles over the groove-jumping, shrill strings, etc., etc. It was hard to tell from the records exactly what Sir Landon was doing with the performance itself; my impression was that his was a fair work-a-day reading and little else. At any rate, the set as a whole was one that was best forgotten. The electrical process was soon well in hand and the H. M. V. recording engineers have given us some of our greatest phonographic achievements. But whether they feared Tchaikowsky’s Fourth as a bete noir, or whether the company was unwilling to go to the expense of re-recording the work, it was never done over, and its sister symphonies quickly outpassed it. Last fall, as most record collectors “in the know” were aware, Stokowski recorded the Fourth during that memorable week that gave birth to the Brahms Third, Romeo and Juliet Overture, and other works, some of which have not yet seen release. Stokowski’s works are not easy to review. One is usually tempted either to accept them or reject them unreservedly. In either case there are sure to be many who will make the directly opposite decision. Perhaps I can give the best idea of this particular release at hand by comparing it with the same conductor’s recording of Scheherezade. In type the two sets have much in common: the recording is excellent, especially in its mellow golden coloring; the works played are both of the sort ordinarily given virtuoso performance, works in which the dynamic and dramatic qualities are usually stressed for their own values, rather than for purely musical ones. Stokowski—as one has come to expect—does the unexpected. He approaches Tchaikowsky’s Fourth as he approaches a Beethoven symphony, which is not to say that he plays it as he would a Beethoven symphony, but that he examines it for genuine musical qualities and en- deavors in his performance to emphasize these to the exclusion of the programmatic and melodramatic quali- ties by which performances of this work are usually charac- terized. Consequentlv his performance sounds a trifle disappointing at first to those who expect all blood and thunder, but it grows on one as its musical merits are realized. The very beginning with its summoning fanfare theme strikes the predominating note of the entire symphony—and for once it is not blatant, but insistent and ominous. Stokow- ski works into the movement gradually (Note the effective recording of the pp timpani taps about half-way through part 2; 25 of the Philharmonia score; Ben sostenuto), but on part 3 the stormy climactic passages are handled with magnificent abandon. It is in such passages as these, with their grate and shock of timbres, that Tchaikowsky seems most the musician and least the musical psycho-analyst. Reserve is Stokowski’s watchword throughout; note how gently he begins the speeding up at the Molto piu mosso near the end of this movement (part 4), but how exciting it is on the repetition when its full fleetness is attained. The second movement is given a grave tenderness al- most the antithesis of the moods we ordinarily characterize as Tchaikowskian. At the end particularly, the noble elo- quence of cellos and bassoon is tremendously moving. The organ-like tone of the two soft horn chords just before the end is remarkably rare even in concert; here the golden recording makes it doubly effective. The scherzo’s tempta- tion to virtuosity is almost impossible to withstand, but Stokowski is not to be swerved from his purpose. It be- comes a study in beautiful sonorities; tfie capriciousness and bizarre flourish one customarily associates with the movement are rigorously suppressed here. The finale simi- larly, is transformed from Russian peasant orgy into musi- cal torrent that sweeps with irresistible force from beginning to end. One has scarcely time to note such details as the exciting cymbal crashes, the just audible p triangle taps, and the deft flute obbligato on page 166 (invariably the per- formance of the first flute part is one of the features of the Philadelphia Orchestra’s records). As a reading, this has much in common with Dr. Muck’s but of course the acous- tical process permitted no such superb orchestral effects as Stokowski obtains here. The fervid admirers of Tchaikowsky and of the type of music inevitably resulting from a type of mind responsible for the elaborate program drawn up for Madame von Meek’s information will not admire Stokowski’s perfor- mance of the Fourth as they admire Mengelberg’s of the Fifth. But those whose estimate of the Fourth’s musical content is not of the highest will be astonished to discover how much Stokowski reveals in the work. For me, this set is an additional tribute to Stokowski’s musicianship, for here we have a virtuoso of virtuosos disdaining all sugges- tion of showmanship and giving an entirely new musical revelation of a work for which “sound and fury” is the usual lot. Of course it can be said that Tchaikowsky unmistakably calls for sensationalism; that here virtuosity and showmanship are essential. However, no doubt such a version of the Fourth will be available on records before long. And in any case we have from Stokowski a per- formance that for satisfying musicianship is likely to remain a standard for this particular work for many years. Columbia Masterworks Set 109 (3 D12s, Alb., $4.50) Strawinski: Petrouchka —Ballet Suite for Orchestra played by the Composer and a Symphony Orchestra. Part 1. First Tableau: Carnival. Part 2. First Tableau (continued) : Legedemain; Russian Dance. Part 3. Second Tableau: Petrouchka. Part 4. Third Tableau: The Moor. Parts 6 and 6. Fourth Tableau: Grand Carnival. This orchestral suite varies somewhat from the one re- corded by Koussevitzky, although that too was authorized by the composer. Koussevitzky plays only the Russian Dance from the first tableau; Strawinski plays the entire tableau, beginning with a carnival scene—with the organ grinder (part 1) and going on through the old Charletan’s flute solo bringing the puppets to life and introducing the Russian Dance (part 2). Koussevitzky’s version omits the third tableau entirely; Strawinski plays a portion of it (The Moor), but omits the dainty Ballerina’s dance and cornet solo. Koussevitzky plays the entire carnival scene in the fourth tableau. Both versions omit the end of the ballet—the death of Petrouchka and the appearance of his ghost, and Strawinski’s version omits also a sizable portion of the carnival scene. He plays up to just before the ap- pearance of the peasant and the bear (part 5) and then skips the bear’s appearance and the scene of the drunken merchant and dancing gypsy girls, resuming with the dance of the coachmen (part 6). Both versions end at the same point, just before the merriment is interrupted by Petroucka’s flight and death. A complete version of the ballet was recorded acoustically by Goossens for Victor some years ago; it has recently been replaced by a similarly complete recording by Coates for H. M. V. The music was briefly discussed in the review of Kousse- vitzky’s version, page 134 of the January issue. Strawinski’s is a typical “composer’s version.” That is to say, details of the work are emphasized—often at the expense of the whole. The performance is bright, sharp, hard. Strawinski is not a great conductor by any means, even of his own works, but he knows very definitely what he is after and attains his effects with neatness and dispatch. The recording is excellent in many respects: it is ultra-clear, like a “sharp” photograph; details and timbres come out very cleanly. But there are not the rich sonorities of Koussevitzky’s records, nor the same warmth of color. The orchestra, of course, is incomparable with the Boston Sym- phony, although it acquits itself quite creditably. A set of many merits, it is unfortunate that it should have to stand comparison with one like Koussevitzky’s especially as it does not qualify as an augmentative version by virtue of being complete. But its two attractions are strong ones: the bright force of its recording and the fact that it is the composer’s own version, a point of no small personal and historical significance. This is Strawinski’s first appearance on records, by the way. He has also recorded his Firebird Suite for the French Columbia Company, and undoubtedly it too will be given early American release. The series begun with these two works will surely be continued with the long-awaited Sacre and the piano concerto with the composer as soloist, and perhaps eventually Les Noces, The Song of the Night- ingale, and some of the chamber works.