Phonograph Monthly Review, Vol. 4, No. 9 (1930-06)

290 The Phonograph Monthly Review June, 1930 These records make the eternal clash between creative and interpretative artist far more explic- able than a volume of theoretical studies could ever do. One has always accused the other of dis- torting his intentions, while the piqued interpre- ter retorts that a performance can be constructed only on the basis of what the composer has put on paper, not what he may have had in mind; and that the composer doesn't know how his music sounds best, anyway. The two types are patently arguing at cross purposes. In time—and the phonograph is hastening the day—there will be conductors who build up their readings on the significant elements of the composer's reading, eked out by their own realization of what that reading lacks. Many people may consider that al- ready to be the case. To me it hardly seems true in these two instances. In both the composers have concentrated on details so intently that they often give insufficient stress to the larger features of their work (taking them for granted them- selves, they assume that their listeners will do so likewise), while the conductors stress the broader strokes and major effects often at the cost of al- tered values, blurred outlines, and a weakened instead of a remorseless inner logic of the music. In the very nature of things Stokowski and Koussevitzky are likely to find a wider popular response for their versions than Strawinski and Ravel. Yet the latter two have provided records that are not only invaluable historically; they pro- vide an insight into the works that cannot be gain- ed in any other way. Suggesting the purchasing of both versions of each is unfortunately rather quixotic advice except to the fortunate collectors of considerable means, but I most emphatically do advise a very careful consideration of the problem involved before a definite purchase choice is made. If one can't determine abstractly which version he is likely to be in most sympathy with (and it is quite possible that the composer's should be selected in one instance and the conductor's in another), he can decide only after an attentive hearing of both sets. Each has attractions and very solid merits of its own—as set forth in more detail in the special reviews published elsewhere in these pages—and each is very much worth its cost. Columbia has specialized in heroic performances this month and the three leading orchestral works are all of more than ordinary muscularity. The phonograph is still a little drunk with its own strength and eloquence; it still likes to astonish open-mouthed audiences. But luckily recording directors understand better how to bend its pow- ers to more musical purpose than in the early days of the electrical recording. The vigor of Max von Schillings' performance of Beethoven's “Eroica" approaches a near ferocity at times, but the ver- sion is cast to a big mold and it is tempered with the sincere feeling that has marked the other Schillings releases. It is a good set of records and from a mechanical standpoint at least probably the best “Eroica” available. Yet I took a much more personal delight in the Mozart violin concer- to (No. 5, in A) with Wolfsthal in the solo role and Dr. Weissmann wielding his skilled and in- defatigable baton. Mozart was not ashamed of virtuosity. He knew well enough that a concerto was a show piece and he also knew how to write display music that has yet to be surpassed either for sheer effectiveness or for musical content. And it is in the latter respect that his essays in brilliance differ so strongly from the empty fustian of so many composers who have followed him—at a very considerable distance. Wolfsthal and Weissmann are happily matched as well as allit- erative musicians. They fling themselves into the work with a will and play it for all its worth, with strong clean recording adding impetus to their efforts. There is a similar lustiness to Dr. Stiedry's reading of the Academic Festival of Brahms, one of the most delightful overtures in the repertory. The disc pops up miraculously among the German releases in the Columbia for- eign lists. It is well worth unearthing. I dis- agree with our reviewer who finds it lacking in dignity. For all its unleashed vitality it is surely handled and well poised, and it misses nothing of the genial and volkstindich warmths that enable Brahms to touch the heart as well as the mind as few since Beethoven have been able to do. Among those few is Frederick Delius. He lacks a great deal of Brahms' universality of appeal, and I don't imagine that his second violin sonata arranged and recorded by Lionel Tertis for viola will find its way into many record libraries of the theoretical “average American music lover.” But it is a courageous issue on the part of Columbia and courage that eventually will be rewarded. Al- ready Delius is coming to find appreciative Amer- ican attention and once record buyers are stimu- lated to hear his music they cannot remain in- different to it. I place this sonata very close to that for 'cello that Beatrice Harrison recorded for H. M. V. several years ago. Both deserve a wider audience than that of the cognoscenti to which they are still too largely confined. There is no need to rehearse the long list of other June releases. All the records are given detailed comment in the regular review columns. A few have more than average interest, however, and I should like to emphasize their attractiveness. Among the vocal records, the fine Handel and Mozart arias sung by Gabrielle Ritter-Ciampi for Brunswick, and Ponselle's pellucid singing of Rim- sky's Nightingale and the Rose (Victor), struck me as well above the average. The instrumentals that stood out were Rene Benedetti's Columbia violin record,—an unusually deft piece of record- ed fiddling, and a new Victor disc from Horovitz who has been absent far too long from the release lists. The most important non-musical disc was perhaps the British Prime Minister's somewhat solemn tribute to Robert Burns (Columbia), but I derived far more lively pleasure from Marshall Cole's recital of an episode from Roark Bradford’s “OF Man Adam an' his Chillun”, that charming book of biblical stories recounted in homely but vivid colloquial Negro idiom. The story Marshall