Phonograph Monthly Review, Vol. 4, No. 3 (1929-12)

100 The Phonograph Monthly Review December, 1929 played by Serge Koussevitzky and the Bos,ton Symphony Orchestra. Ravel’s Daphnis et Chloe ballet is far and away his most important composition. Among his other works are many exquisite miniature, little masterpieces of wit and charm anc| grace, but in Daphnis his canvas is larger and his hand bolder. For once the man really “speaks out”, not in the decadent frenzy of La Valse, but with intoxicatingly imaginative daring. In this country the work is known only by the two orchestral suites that the composer drew from it. The first is made up of a Nocturne, Interlude, and Danse Guerriere; the second of a Lever du Jour, Pantomime, Danse Generate. The latter suite, termed “orchestral frag- ments, second series” by the composer, is more truly a “choreographic symphony”—a satisfying artistic entity in itself. Since no program notes accompany the disks, the gist of the “argument” printed in the published score may well be reproduced here. “No sound but the murmur of rivulets fed by the dew that trickles from the rocks. Daphnis lies stretched before the grotto of the. nymphs. Little by little the day dawns. The songs of birds are heard. Afar off a shepherd leads his flock. . . . Herdsmen enter, seeking Daphnis and Chloe. They find Daphnis and awaken him. In anguish he looks about for Chloe. She at last appears encircled by Shepherd- esses. The two rush into each other’s arms. . . . Daphnis and Chloe mime the story of Pan and Syrinx. Chloe im- personates the young nymph wandering over the meadow. Daphnis as Pan appears and declares his love for her. The nymph repulses him; the god becomes more insistent. She disappears among the reeds. In desparation he plucks some stalks, fashions a flute and on it plaj^s a melancholy tune. Chloe comes out and imitates by her dance the accents of the flute. The dance grows more and more animated. Chloe falls into the arms of Daphnis. . . . Young girls enter; they are dressed as Bacchantes and shake their tambourines. . . . Joyous tulmult. A general dance.” Koussevitzky’s concert performance of this suite is held in the liveliest esteem not only in Boston but in many cities where the Boston orchestra has toured, playing this work as its piece de resistance. Beside the blazing rhythmi- cal ecstacy of the General Dance the brightest instru- mental tints of even Chabrier and Rimsky-Korsakow seem dull and pale. For sheer orchestral virtuosity (in the best sense of the word) the work is almost unparalleled. But the phonograph finds such tonal gorgeousness and complexity still beyond its power. Conductor and recording engineers have undoubtedly labored hard to meet the recording exi- gencies, and considering the difficulties, they have labored well, but it would be idle to claim that the superb effective- ness of the closing pages (and particularly the dazzling writ- ing for percussion instruments) has been caught on the disk. But apart from that the performance does not fare badly by any means. The tonal warmth and color of the records is extremely fine. The florid passages for wood wind are somewhat obscured at the beginning, but added emphasis is given to the broad flow of the theme. The Pautomime section is excellent; such flute and alto-flute playing is almost never heard on records and but seldom in the concert hall. With some reservations for those who are familiar with Koussevitzky’s concert performance, these records can be recommended as an example of a contem- porary work of permanent worth, played by its foremost exponent. Odeon 5177-82 (6 D12s, Alb., $9.00) Brahms: Symphony No. 1 C minor, Op. 68, played by Qtto Klemperer and the Grand Symphony Orchestra, Berlin. To students .of comparative interpretations and of the “styles” of various orchestras and conducters, Klemperer’s version of the Brahms First (the third to be issued in this country) is uncommonly interesting. But its ability to meet the test of repeated hearings is another matter. In this country our ears and minds have been accustomed to a more virile Brahms than Klemperer gives us here. Techni- cally, too, we demand a finish that this performance sadly lacks The lack of sufficient rehearsals is unmistakably evident; not painfully so, for the orchestra—probably made up largely of Berlin State Opera men—is a good one, but the rough spots have not been ironed out The transitions are often awkwardly abrupt. Some of the details come out better than in the other recorded versions (making the set worth a single hearing at least), but often they pop out with uncouth emphasis. Klemperer’s reading is character- istically old-style, old-country Brahms, but it is less well realized than Weingartner’s reading, which has an eye for tradition, but which is better poised, planned more logically, and executed far more effectively. Klemperer’s tempos are usually on the slow, sometimes very slow, side. The an- dante (here adagio) suffers particularly. I miss the absence of crispness and force in both the first and last movements. The introduction of the latter is well done, with the horn passages booming out very effectively, but the big tune is taken so methodically that its breadth and nobility complete- ly evaporate. The third movement fares best; it unreels smoothly and with more delicacy and verve than Klemperer displays elsewhere. Throughout the phrasing is careless. Granted that one should not demand every conductor to measure up to Stokowski’s lofty standards of impeccable phrasal finish, Klemperer must still be taken to task for not measuring up to average concert standards in this respect. There is no question of the man’s musicianship, nor of any lack of symphony for the music, but he is tremendously handicapped by the lack of opportunity to whip his men into shape and to realize smoothly and exactly his concep- tion of the work. If he had had that opportunity I think he might have made a pretty good case for his reading, but it stands here often lacking being both logic and effect. The recording itself is good without being exceptional. It is unfortunate that Columbia’s recently adopted—and highly admirable—labelling policy has not been emulated by the sister company. The system adopted here is the most confusing I have yet to come across. The part num- bers are given like this: “I, Movement: Un poco sostenuto”; “1. Movement: Allegro Part 1”; etc. Thus the last record side (part 12—the work is two record sides longer than the Stokowski and Weingartner versions) is labelled: 4. Move- ment : Allegro non troppo Part 3,” although the whole movement takes four sides. This separation of an intro- duction from the main body of a movement, the elimination of “commencement”! “continuation”, and “conclusion from the divisions of a movement, and the complete absence of through part numbering are all indefensible departures from the best labelling traditions and commonsense. Odeon 5183-4 (2 D12s, $1.50 each) Manfred—Overture (three sides) and Entr’acte (one side), played by Max von Schillings and the Grand Symphony Orchestra, Berlin. There are very few conductors who should be permitted to play Schumann’s orchestral works. Bruno Walter is one, witness his full-blooded recorded version of the Fourth Symphony recently released by Columbia. And Max von Schillings is another. Schillings is best known by his Wagnerian records but the recent record of Bethoven’s Egmont and the present one of Schumann’s Manfred over- ture extend the boundaries of his fine talents. The old hullabaloo about Schumann’s competence to orchestrate periodically waxes loud, but the discussion is a futile one at best. Schumann was not a highly skillful orchestrator (the admitted difficulty he had with his scores is proof of that), but nevertheless, an understanding and capable con- ductor can make them sound as Schumann must have wished them to sound. Skill alone is not enough; many an able conductor fails ignominiously with Schumann be- cause he lacks the essential insight into his music. The modern spirit yearly grows farther and farther away from the Schumannesque, but though we no longer feel the same stimulus from his work that we once did, it is still a pleasure to hear it given sympathetic and effective per- formance. Manfred is the most popular and the best of Schumann’s overtures: it is usuallv ranked among the finest compositions. Schillings’ performance is all that the warm- est Schumann admirer could wish. The recording is good when no severe demands are made on it (note the singular quiet ending), but strings and wood vpnds fortissimo in their upper registers go suddenly thin and shrill. The entra’acte music on the odd side, is prefaced by the Ranz des Vaches for English horn solo unaccompanied, beautifully played by an unnamed soloist. This whole record side is the very quintessence of Schumann, perhaps the most happy example of his music yet available on records, records.