Classical Music

REVIEWS:
BBC Music (3/98, p.74) - "Du Pré's...1977 Elgar Cello Concerto recording....is compelling and richly Romantic....Ormandy and the Philadelphia's 'Enigma' is warmhearted and virtuosic....Davis's 'Pomp and Circumstance' Marches are bold and beefy."

Classical Music

At last a version of this legendary work for pleasure, analysis and study.

I am normally something of a 'completist' when it comes to music. And that includes works that may not necessarily reflect a composer at his or her best. If Bloggs wrote 101 songs then, if at all possible there should be at least one fair recording made of each – if for no other reason than to provide context. The best can then be compared to the not so good and can be seen to shine. Ivor Gurney may be an exception to this rule: there is much debate about his ‘unplayable and un-publishable’ songs and chamber works yet many folk want to give these an airing - even if it means damaging the composer’s reputation. Imagine a neophyte finds a CD of Bloggs’s Unknown Songs. Further, imagine that they are not very good. Could this put our friend off not only Bloggs but also English lieder? Perhaps they would be best left un-played and unrecorded? Other issues arise, such as the composer’s intentions. Did they regard these pieces as worthy? Or did they suppress them? This argument has surfaced with the repristination of the early music - which had been believed destroyed - by William Alwyn and suppressed works by RVW. I hasten to add that I am grateful for these CDs and have especially enjoyed hearing the former’s tone-poem Blackdown and the latter’s Heroic Elegy.

Let us turn to The Crown of India. Most Elgar enthusiasts will know the Suite derived from this ‘Imperial Masque’. It has been issued in a number of recordings over the years, including a fine version from Chandos with the Scottish National Orchestra conducted by Sir Alexander Gibson. The March of the Moguls has also been a popular extract. However, up until this present CD, it has not been possible to hear the complete work in its original format. The question is: is this a worthwhile project?

Firstly let’s dispose of the anti-Imperial argument. There are two (at least) approaches to history. One is, I guess relative and the other is absolute. Some people will refuse to give any credence to an historical personage if they were involved in any activity that is now regarded as politically incorrect, even if it was not always regarded in this light. Men like Cecil Rhodes and Clive of India are despised or at best belittled by ‘liberal’ society. Yet, surely it should be possible to admire the achievement of a woman or a man who did much good work with their involvement in world affairs. Obviously parts of their careers can be justly criticised, but the person themselves cannot be separated from their milieu. Few people in the world are truly forward-thinking: most of us, both living and dead are and were children of our time.

I can hear people condemning this present work as jingoistic - as imperial nonsense. It is a work that sets the British Empire up against the people of India. As such it could be argued that it should be consigned to the dustbin of musical history. We no longer think in terms of Britain Ruling the Waves (except at The Last Night) nor do we necessarily regard the British way of life as being something that must be imposed on other cultures. Things, perhaps, work the other way round these days. So can we justify listening to and perhaps even enjoying this Masque? Only if we can enter the historical setting in our mind’s ear without too many feelings of guilt! However, we ought to judge this work - or any work - on its musical and literary merits rather than its political and cultural resonances down through the years.

The Crown of India is a masque that was written and performed in 1912 to celebrate the visit of King George V and Queen Mary to Delhi. This was part of a ‘durbar’ in that city as part of the celebrations for their coronation as the Emperor and Empress of India. The masque was commissioned by a certain Oswald Stoll and combined a libretto by Henry Hamilton and the music of Edward Elgar. The work was given its first performance at the Coliseum Theatre in London on 11 March 1912. The masque ran for two performances a day for two weeks. At that time the Coliseum was a variety theatre rather than the opera house we know today. Ironically, Diana McVeagh points out that Elgar’s music was performed alongside a programme that included “gymnastic equilibrists, a ventriloquist, a Russian harpist, a scene from Barrie’s The Twelve Pound Look, continental mimes, with the Tannhauser Overture as interval music.” It must have been quite an evening!

The work was conceived in two tableaux, separated by an interlude: it is made up of a dozen pieces or scenes. The first tableau is entitled ‘The Cities of India’ and the second ‘Ave Imperator’. The format called for the personification of ‘India’ and the cities of Agra, Delhi, Calcutta and Benares and also England (not the United Kingdom) by St. George. The chorus consisted of a cast of thousands including Mogul Emperors, Princes, Guards, Executioners, Courtiers, Fan-Bearers, Ladies Attendant Syce (grooms), Litter Bearers, Heralds, and Trumpeters. The work is scored for contralto, bass, chorus and orchestra. However it was not conceived for a symphony orchestra as such but a typical theatre ‘pit’ band of the era although it was considerably ‘augmented’.

It will be helpful to note the tableaux in a slightly simplified list:-

1(a) - Introduction, and (b) Sacred Measure
2 - Dance of the Nautch Girls
2(a) – India greets her cities
3 - Hail, Immemorial Ind! (The Homage of Ind)
4 - March of the Mogul Emperors
5 - Entrance of John Company
6 - Rule of England (St. George’s Song)
7 - Interlude
8 - Warriors' Dance
9 - Cities of India
10 - Crown of India March
11 - Crowning of Delhi
12 - Ave Imperator

In the first tableau the cities of Calcutta and Delhi, personified by the two speakers, plead to be made India’s capital city. In the second, the Emperor rather diplomatically resolves the contention. He states that “… Delhi to be his capital names, And of his Empire, further makes decree, Calcutta shall the premier city be”.

Percy Young has noted that in the early months of 1912 Elgar had moved into Severn House and was conscious “not only of its nobility but also its expense.” So it is fair to say that the commission came at the right time and contributed to the finances.

It is important not to be too critical about the text of the masque. It is easy to write off Henry Hamilton’s libretto as ‘doggerel’ but it was very much a period piece: it is what would have been expected at the time. However, the composer was not overly impressed with the political tone of the words but was able to see the possibilities it presented for producing a colourful score. Elgar was able to cut a number of the worst parts of the text and began composing the music and falling back on mining some earlier works and sketches as he did so. Music rescued from The Sanguine Fan, Falstaff and the Apostles has been identified.

So what are we to make, musically at least, of this massive period piece? Percy Young in his 1955 study of the composer has captured its mood. He writes that “despite the skilful spread of motive, there is no genuine consistency in The Crown of India, but vivid flashes of imaginative treatment, combined with instances of tenderness and charm.” It is a judgement that holds well today.

The make-weights on the second CD are useful additions to the catalogue of Elgar’s imperial, or less pejoratively, his ceremonial music. The Imperial March Op.32 was composed in 1896-7 and was the composer’s first essay in this genre. It was commissioned by Novellos to mark the Diamond Jubilee of Queen Victoria in 1897. At the same time Elgar also received a commission to write The Banner of St George. The Imperial March received its first performance at a Crystal Place concert on 19 April of the same year. Interestingly, this piece is more in the style of what Eric Coates was to compose some quarter of a century later. There is no great pretence at writing profound music – instead it has a tune that has “a spring in its step, and a sunny dance-like trio”. Elgar was not the first to compose this kind of March. Parry had written a fine example in his incidental music for Hypatia. It was however his first essay in what was to become a long line of ceremonial marches. Diana McVeagh notes that it was the Imperial March that “first carried his name throughout the land”.

The Coronation March Op. 65 is a totally different piece. Gone is the light-heartedness of the earlier piece, to be replaced by music that has a depth of emotion and variety of mood that is rare in a work of its genre. The March was a ‘laureate’ work commissioned for the Coronation of King George V in 1911. It has been well said that the composer is mourning the death of the old King rather than cheering the accession of the new. In many ways it has the air of a funeral march rather than a rumbustious paean of welcome for the monarch. I have no doubt that this is one of the best marches that Elgar wrote – or anyone else for that matter. One strange fact associated with this piece is the fact the composer had already written the main opening theme for a projected ballet based on the tales of Rabelais! It is assumed that he abandoned this project because of Victorian prudery and pressure from his wife Alice.

I have always had a soft spot for the Empire March even if it is not the best of the bunch. This work was composed in 1924 to inaugurate the British Empire Exhibition held at Wembley in that year. It is interesting, if somewhat poignant, that this is one of the very few works to be completed after the death of Alice in 1920. The Elgar Society webpage suggests that “it is but a pale shadow of his earlier marches, lacking the distinctiveness and decisiveness of melody which so characterised his more successful marches …” Yet there is an interest in these pages and a certain backward glance to happier times.

I am not quite sure why Chandos have chosen to give two versions of The Crown of India – one with the spoken text and one without. I would have thought that a single version would have sufficed for what is a very uneven work. However, if it had been a single CD, there would have been no room for the three Marches. Furthermore, I doubt if this work will receive many concert performances, in spite of the fact that the Elgar Society have just published the full score. I imagine that if it is performed it will be in the edited version.

All this being said, and I have not really made my mind up about this piece yet, this CD is a must for all Elgar cognoscenti even if they are, like me, not over-enthusiastic about the main event. I enjoyed some of this music. I certainly enjoyed the fine performances by Sir Andrew Davis, the soloists and speakers and the BBC Philharmonic. I appreciate the amount of work that Anthony Payne has invested in this project to realise the score. But was it worth it? I will probably not listen to this work again but I will occasionally play The Crown of India Suite. However, it is important to know that a version of this legendary work is available for pleasure, analysis and study. The amount of effort that has been required to realise this masque may seem to some a little excessive and perhaps misdirected.

Perhaps the project can best be summed up in two quotations from the sleeve-notes. The first is from Nalini Ghuman: “( The Crown of India is) a fascinating work of imperialism: historically illuminating and often musically rich, it is nevertheless a profoundly embarrassing piece - a significant contribution to the orientalised India of the English imagination.” And the second is written by Andrew Neill. He concludes his essay by suggesting that ‘although Elgar’s subject is now out of fashion we can hear how, despite its tendentious nature and poor quality, Elgar rises above Hamilton’s text with colourful music of great variety … it may not be India, but it is Elgar, who did this sort of thing better than anyone else.”

-- John France, MusicWeb International

Sir Andrew Davis takes his multi-award-winning Elgar discography to the next level with breathtaking interpretations of Falstaff, Elgar’s most accomplished and characteristic work, and several orchestral songs, with exemplary support from the BBC Philharmonic, all recorded in surround-sound. Owing to its technical challenges and more complex harmonic language, the composer always had a high opinion of Falstaff, saying that he had enjoyed writing i Gramophonet ‘more than any other music I have ever composed and perhaps for that reason it may prove to be among my best efforts’. His earlier music for Grania and Diarmid pays tribute to the Irish legend of Diarmuid and Grainne; the Funeral March is probably Elgar’s noblest creation, and echoes the popular Pomp and Circumstance Marches. The various less well-known songs, given heroic interpretations by the baritone Roderick Williams OBE, span the multiple facets of Elgar’s style, from the stern and dramatic impressions of Op. 60 to the satirical and impish jollity of ‘Kindly do not SMOKE’.

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REVIEW:

This is a superbly perceptive traversal of Elgar's Falstaff, evincing a strength of purpose, emotional candor, and meticulous attention to detail. Right from the outset there's an irresistibly idiomatic swagger, acquity, and temperament. Baritone Roderick Williams is at his eloquent best in an attractive selection of orchestral songs.

– Gramophone

Following a highly praised recording of Symphony No. 1 last year, Edward Gardner and the BBC Symphony present here an electrifying interpretation of Elgar’s Symphony No. 2, with the addition of one of his most performed works: the Serenade for Strings. Having now become experts in British repertoire with highly lauded series of Walton and Britten, they reveal all the aspects of Elgar’s masterpiece in this surround sound recording. Symphony No. 2 is richly orchestrated and skillfully constructed, drawing on hugely varied resources of harmony, rhythm and melody, and making considerable use of thematic transformation as a unifying technique. While the Symphony No. 2 is one of the greatest products of Elgar’s maturity, the Serenade in E minor for Strings is perhaps the most charming product of his youth. In this three-movement piece dominated by a deeply passionate Larghetto, the strings of the BBC Symphony superbly encapsulate all the emotions offered by this graceful work: tender lyrical and intense.

Childhood-related but mature and attractive music, well performed and recorded.


Bryden Thomson had something of a reputation for slowish tempi, savouring the music a little too much as he went along. I find this less irksome in his performances of Bax, for example, than some reviewers, and it is not too much in evidence here. He is often faster than Boult; only rarely is he slower.

The Slumber Scene (track 6) is one exception: here, at 4:27, he is exactly a whole minute slower than Boult’s 3:27. EM, who has already reviewed this recording – see review – also noted that Thomson takes whole minute longer over this movement than Handley – at least, I think he meant to say that Thomson was slower, not shorter.

Not recalling that I had thought this movement at all slow in my first run-through, I let several days elapse before listening carefully to the Boult version, fully prepared to think his timing too rushed. It was no such thing – he captures the spirit of the piece perfectly. Having put on the Boult recording in order to check the one track, I just couldn’t resist playing the whole thing. This is a wonderful recording and EMI should urgently consider reissuing it, perhaps more appropriately coupled – the music and performance are even worthy to sit alongside the Enigma Variations. I note that JQ welcomed its most recent appearance on EMI British Classics with enthusiasm.

Then I played the Thomson again and derived equal pleasure from it. At first I thought the recording not quite as full as the Boult – EMI’s ADD sound is very good for its age – but that is an aural delusion resulting from the fact that the EMI transfer is at a slightly higher rate: turn up the Chandos a notch and the illusion disappears. Both performances and recordings deliver plenty of power where it is need.

Did Thomson’s Slumber Scene sound too slumberous? Only marginally – heard on its own, without comparison, it’s perfectly fine. I’ve said so often that tempo indications don’t always tell the full story that it’s time that I got it into my own noddle. I do think, however, that the March which begins the second suite (tr.8) is a touch slow at 4:58 against Boult’s 4:26.

The Nursery Suite and Dream Children also receive fine performances – the latter from Norman del Mar, always idiomatic in English music – well recorded. At its new price, this recording is very welcome. In the absence of the Boult (temporary, I hope) this will do very nicely.

If you enjoy these pieces, you will probably react favourably to Elgar’s other piece of childhood-related music, The Starlight Express, Op.78 - not to be confused with the West End musical of that name; there’s a wonderful budget-price Vernon Handley version on Classics For Pleasure 5859072.

-- Brian Wilson, MusicWeb International

Elgar: Symphony No. 1 in A-Flat Major, Op. 55

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Drawn from across the composer's lengthy career, this collection of Part-Songs and Choral Works explores the great variety and range within Elgar's work for choir and voices. Along with more well-known works such as Love and Deep in my Soul there are early pieces such as O Salutaris hostia (composed for small amateur choirs) that give hints of his later mature style, through to the 1928 piece I sing the Birth - a work that shows Elgar's ability to adapt to more contemporary styles of 20th-century choral composition. The Rodolfus Choir have established themselves as one of the leading youth choirs in Britain, made up of singers aged from 16 to 25 who have been chosen from past and present members of the Eton Choral Courses for prospective choral scholars. Many members of the Choir are choral scholars, some are at music college, and most hope to make a career in music. The Rodolfus Choir and Ralph Allwood are well-known for imaginative programming, and for presenting new music. The Rodolfus Choir's recent CD recordings with Signum include music as diverse as Howells, Monteverdi, Grier, Tallis and the German Romantics. 'One can only marvel at the group's remarkable collective skill and cohesion' fanfare magazine

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Vital and individual readings.

There’s really not much to say about this one. Sir Andrew Davis in an all-Elgar programme ought to be a safe pair of hands, and so it turns out, and more besides.

The programme opens with the Enigma Variations, the phrasing of the theme as loving as one has ever heard it. The end of the first variation, C.A.E., depicting the composer’s wife, may be a little too drawn out for some tastes, but Elgar often expressed his affection for her in language at least as sweetly sentimental as this. The showy variations are splendid, but the more intimate ones are even more successful, and one comes away, perhaps more than in many performances, with the idea that some of Elgar’s friends were a melancholy lot. The cellist, Basil Nevinson, in a highly expressive reading, has rarely sounded as sad as he does here. The solo part is beautifully played, and this seems the moment to praise the outstanding orchestral playing throughout the disc, and the brilliantly characterful solo playing in particular. The Enigma Variations has been recorded many, many times, and each listener will have a favourite. I am very attached to Barbirolli in this work, though I sometimes wonder if this is not as much for sentimental reasons as for musical ones. The present performance is as fine as any I have heard, and I don’t think anyone who acquires it will be less than delighted. The recording is particularly detailed, bringing out a few points of orchestration I had never heard before, though you have to turn up the volume a fair bit to get enough punch in the louder passages, which means that the softer ones lose a little of their intimacy.

The performance of In the South is, if anything, even finer. The opening is surely the most exuberant music Elgar ever composed, and this comes over wonderfully well in this performance. Once again the orchestra is in inspired form, and this extends to the gentler, more atmospheric passages too. The work, always a winner in the concert hall, is nonetheless not one of the composer’s more coherent creations from a formal point of view, but Sir Andrew’s subtle control of tempo between the different sections disguises that very successfully. There are passages in the work where the composer runs the risk of overstepping the boundaries of taste, too, and it is a mark of the conductor’s skill that they are totally convincing. I’m thinking in particular of the passage based on hammered, repeated falling fifths (beginning at 7:12) where the listener is not sure whether Sir Andrew is moving the music on or not, only that the pulse never drags, successfully avoiding any suggestion of bombast. It’s a very fine performance and, like the Enigma, is greeted with enthusiastic applause.

This performance of the adorable Serenade will not appeal to those who want to indulge themselves, but is likely to please those who feel that Elgar knew what he wanted as regards tempo. Even so, the first and last movements here, amongst the briskest performances I know, still fall short of Elgar’s markings which do seem very fast indeed. The music is gracefully phrased, skipping rather than lilting, and is full of affection despite the conductor’s unwillingness to linger. The central slow movement, at a similarly flowing tempo, is very moving, wistful and passionate by turns, just as it should be.

The name “Philhamonia Orchestra” - albeit in trendy all lower case fashion - is given greater prominence on this disc than “Signum”, and the back cover of the booklet carries information about other Philharmonia performances on the same label. As a collaborative effort it can only be welcomed, especially at mid-price. There are very readable and informative notes by M. Ross. Newcomers to Elgar and seasoned listeners hoping for vital and individual readings of these particular works need not hesitate.

-- William Hedley, MusicWeb International

This is a hybrid Super Audio CD playable on both regular and Super Audio CD players.

It takes an impressive performance for Elgar to come alive for me, as he does in this recording by Edo de Waart and the Royal Flemish Philharmonic, both subtle and fiery. The First Symphony, in particular, burns under a surface sheen, and “The Dream of Gerontius” is intensely played and firmly sung.

– New York Times

Nearly 80 minutes of Elgar in march tempo many be a bit much at a single sitting, but this disc fills a useful niche. The most interesting work here is the symphonic prelude Polonia, dedicated to Paderewski, and composed during the First World War. Making use of various Polish melodies (including music by Paderewski and Chopin), at nearly fifteen minutes it's a major statement for a mere "occasional" work, and the only reason I can think of that it isn't better known is that it's not about England so no one especially cares. James Judd and the New Zealand Symphony play it very well, as they also do the Pomp and Circumstances Marches. Frankly, you can have your Boults and Barbirollis: compared to Judd they sound far less involved. He actually has interesting ideas about phrasing (listen to how he drives the opening of March No. 2), and makes a persuasive case for this music as music, rather than as a high school graduation exercise or some other mundane event.


The Coronation March and the Funeral March from Grania and Diarmid are also bigger than their titles might suggest, the first as reflective as it is opulent, the second really a brief, elegiac tone poem. It's a bit hard to get excited about either the Empire March or the March from Caractacus, and the March of the Mogul Emperors (from The Crown of India Suite) could crash and bash with more abandon (where is the tam-tam?), but there's certainly enough here to whet the appetite of committed Elgarians. The sonics are also quite good: a touch low-level, perhaps, but easily adjustable, with plenty of room to expand and good bass separation between timpani, bass drum, and organ pedals (which are well caught but not overbearing). In short, this is another successful collaboration between Judd and the New Zealanders--long may they continue.
--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

For more than two decades before he achieved fame and financial security as England' foremost composer, the young Edward Elgar earned a living as a violinist and violin teacher.

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Violin Recital: Simone Lamsma

A charming disc full of charming music, these light Elgar works seem to come and go in the catalog, undeservedly so. Like most great composers Elgar lavished as much care on his miniatures as he did on his large-scale productions, and some listeners may well prefer to enjoy his lyrical gifts and vivid orchestration in this easily digestible form. The performances are uniformly excellent, offering both lightness ("Fairy Pipers", "Little Bells", "The Merry Doll") and rambunctious high spirits ("The Wild Bears", "The Wagon (Passes)") where appropriate. James Judd's tempos tend to be a little slower than, say, Charles Mackerras' on his otherwise excellent Argo disc containing much of the same repertoire, but the music never drags and it's all easeful good fun. The New Zealand Symphony Orchestra plays with obvious care and affection, and the recorded sound lives up to the current high standards coming from this source. The Judd/New Zealand partnership has given Naxos some of its best discs, and this one is no exception. --David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

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ELGAR Quadrilles: Die junge Kokette; L’Assomoir; La brunette; Paris; A Singing Quadrille. The Valentine: Five Lancers. Polkas: Maud; Nelly; La Blonde; Helcia; Blumine. Menuetto. Andante and Allegro for Oboe and String Trio. Duett for Trombone and Double Bass. Fugue for Oboe and Violin • Barry Collett, cond; Innovation C Ens; Zoë Beyers (vn); Louise Williams (va); Richard Jenkinson (vc); John Tattersdill (db); Victoria Brawn (ob); Duncan Wilson (trb) • SOMM 252 (76:59)


Back in the 19th century, music therapy was important in a number of what were then called “lunatic asylums.” Gottschalk used to play, with great enthusiasm, at an institution in Utica, New York. And in 1879, the young Elgar was given a position as “Bandmaster” at the Powick Asylum, a couple of miles outside Worcester. His job was to compose dance music for the inmates—and this recording apparently gathers up all the quadrilles, lancers, and polkas that still survive, in editions by Andrew Lyle (who, along with Barry Collett, is also responsible for filling out the sketch score of A Singing Quadrille ).


Given Elgar’s relative inexperience (he was no prodigy), given the utilitarian function of the music, given the seedy, hodge-podge orchestration (limited to friends and colleagues, his ensemble—according to Lyle’s scrupulous notes—consisted of a few violins sometimes supplemented by a viola, a cello, a bass, a piccolo, a flute, a clarinet, two cornets, a euphonium, a bombardon, and a piano) … given the circumstances, you wouldn’t expect to this to be first-rate music. And it isn’t. Nor, despite a measure or two here and there that look ahead, does it give us much sense of the composer to come. If, hearing it without identification, you were asked to guess the origins of the first dance in Die junge Kokette , you’d be apt to guess it a minor chip off Sullivan’s workbench before you’d assign it to Elgar; much of the rest is more anonymous still. Even so, the music—more vital, rhythmically, than much of Elgar’s early output—is dotted with attractive tunes and artful harmonic turns. There are also a fair share of whimsical musical references: The last dance in the set of lancers seems to hint at Gaudeamus Igitur , just as L’Assomoir (Elgar’s misspelling) sounds momentarily as if it were a cousin to Gounod’s Funeral March for a Marionette —and A Singing Quadrille is overtly, and very shrewdly, based on pre-existing material, including nursery rhymes. The disc is filled out with a few chamber works that were not written for Powick—the most interesting is the wacky 1887 “duett” (Elgar’s spelling again) for trombone and double bass, a cheeky minute or so during which the composer delights (as Stravinsky was to do much later in Pulcinella ) in the sheer absurdity of the combination.


Nothing here is especially deep: If the title of L’Assomoir refers to Zola, the music assuredly doesn’t. As a result, you might not want to listen carefully to this whole disc straight through. Still, in small doses, or as background music, it’s got plenty of charm—and this is obviously the place to turn if you’re interested in getting to know it. Yes, Collett recorded most of this music with the Rutland Sinfonia a quarter-century ago. But that disc, which I’ve not heard, is long out of print; and the remakes, based on the new Elgar edition and featuring a snappy group drawn from the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra, are as idiomatic as you could want. Add to this the fine engineering and the presence of three first recordings (the Menuetto , the Andante and Allegro , and A Singing Quadrille ), and you have a disc that should attract the more avid of Fanfare ’s Elgarians.


FANFARE: Peter J. Rabinowitz

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This release is a unique opportunity for the listener who has interest in historical performance. This four-disc set contains virtually the entire 1928 Elgar studio sessions of the Cello Concerto, as well as several unused takes of major orchestral works and miniatures- pressings which have hitherto been unheard. These pressings are from Elgar’s own private library by way of Arthur Reynolds, a keen collector of original Elgar photographs and recordings. The only person to whom Arthur Reynolds granted access to this treasure trove was master recording engineer, Lani Spahr. In his work, Lani Spahr was able to synchronize the various sides into a stereo image through hours of painstaking effort. This provides insight into the sessions themselves, along with astonishing sound quality.

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ELGAR'S ENIGMA VARIATIONS