During the late 1930s the Great Depression was still raging. Kreisler, Heifetz, the young Menuhin, Szigeti and Milstein represented the topmost echelon of violinists in box office draw, followed by Elman, Huberman, Spalding, the young Ricci and Morini. Many a European violinistic luminary had made an American debut during the Depression years, hoping for success. Despite everything, the United States was still the Mecca for musical artists, in terms of financial reward. But in the face of intense competition only a violinist of the very highest qualifications - and one whose musical personality and character were in some measure different from those of the reigning elite - could hope to launch a top-level concertizing career. Such an artist was René Charles (Zino) Francescatti. At thirty-seven, he was already a fully seasoned performer when he made his American debut in November, 1939, playing the Paganini Concerto No.1 (complete version) with the New York Philharmonic. His rise to stardom had been long and arduous, but he was recognized eventually not only as the heir to Thibaud, once the 'greatest French violinist', but also as one of the world's leading violinists. Fellow-violinist Henry Roth said: 'As a bravura technician, Francescatti belongs in the first rank. And what is more important - he never sacrifices beauty of sound or sincerity of purpose in the interest of technical exhibitionism.' - This collection features never-before-released live performance recordings of favourite concertos and chamber works he excelled in.

When this two CD set was originally issued in 1986, here is what William H. Youngren said about it in The Christian Science Monitor: "...I can think of no better introduction to Toscanini for a listener who is curious to know why so many considered him the greatest conductor of his time." If that does not say it all, I do not know what does.

These selections were digitally restored by Graham Newton in 2003.

The year 2010 marked a century since the London String Quartet, known affectionately as the LSQ, gave its first concerts. Britain's leading chamber ensemble for two decades, it was equally well known in America, where it competed on equal terms with the Flonzaley Quartet: in 1925 leading American critic Olin Downes hailed 'the finest quartet playing that has been heard this Winter in New York'. The LSQ gave many premières, made myriad records and at different times included Albert Sammons and William Primrose. That almost no trace of the group remained in the catalogues in its centenary year was sad but easily explicable. Much of its recorded output was produced by the acoustic process; and often the music was abridged because the Columbia Graphophone Company was not fully committed to chamber music until around 1923. One can still enjoy those old discs, which represent the best of the neat, unfussy British string style; and some of them are reproduced here. But the five programmes performed at the Library of Congress from 1943 to 1951, issued here for the first time, inevitably give a better idea of the LSQ's capabilities: for one thing, they are played straight through, before a sympathetic audience, rather than being done in a sterile studio by the old stop-start 78rpm method.

Recordings were made of Szymon Goldberg (1909-1993) over virtually a 60-year period. It must have been one of the longest studio careers of any violinist - it was certainly one of the most consistent in quality. The present set gathers up all the 78rpm material, which itself covers some two decades and presents the violinist in repertoire to which he did not return in later years, such as string quartets, string trios and string duos. An earlier volume (Music & Arts CD-1223, 8 CDs) presented Goldberg's best live recordings. Despite an often difficult life, Goldberg had an extraordinary ability to project a balanced view of the music he played. He was the archetypal Classical violinist and in his everyday life, behaved exactly as he played - a rare gift. In person, he was diminutive and soft-spoken. On stage, he never hectored the audience through his violin or pulled the music about to create an effect. Taking the view that the composer knew best, he did not impose an egotistical interpretation. Rather, he sought out the quiet centre of the piece he was playing and let his performance grow out of that. It followed that he was a great Mozart violinist, possibly the finest of the last century. He was, perhaps, at his best in chamber music, well represented here; but he was also an assured soloist and made a few excellent concerto recordings in the 78rpm era. Volume I of this Goldberg project (CD-1223) was released in 2010 and was named a Musicweb International Record of the Year and earned a gold medal from Diapason Magazine.

SUNDAY EVENINGS WITH PIERRE MONTEUX • Pierre Monteux, cond; San Francisco SO; Solomon (pn); 1 William Kapell (pn); 2 Lili Kraus (pn); 3 Shura Cherkassky (pn); 4 Naoum Blinder (vn); 5 Boris Blinder (vc); 5 Dorothy Warenskjold (sop) 6 • MUSIC & ARTS 1192, mono (13 CDs: 946:53) Broadcasts: 1941–52


BEETHOVEN Consecration of the House Overture . Symphony No. 5. Prometheus: Adagio. Egmont: Overture. Fidelio: Overture. Leonore Overture No. 3. Piano Concerto No. 3: Mvt. 1. 1 MOZART Don Giovanni: Overture. Symphony No. 35, “Haffner.” Piano Concerto in A, K 414: Mvts. 2 & 3. 2 Die Zauberflöte: Overture. Die Entführung aus der Serail: Overture. Symphony No. 41, “Jupiter.” GLUCK Iphigénie en Aulide: Overture. HAYDN Symphony No. 88. R. STRAUSS Don Juan. Death and Transfiguration. Till Eulenspiegel. Der Rosenkavalier: Suite. WAGNER Parsifal: Prelude and Good Friday Music. Die Meistersinger: Preludes to Acts 1 and 3; Dance of the Apprentices; Procession of the Masters. Der fliegende Holländer: Overture. Tristan und Isolde: Prelude and Liebestod. Die Walküre: Wotan’s Farewell and Magic Fire Music. Siegfried: Forest Murmurs. Götterdämmerung: Siegfried’s Rhine Journey. Rienzi: Overture. Tannhäuser: Overture. LISZT Les préludes. Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2. BERLIOZ Roman Carnival Overture. Les Troyens à Carthage: Prelude. L’enfance du Christ: The Flight into Egypt; Trio of the Young Ishmaelites. La damnation de Faust: Minuet des follets; Ballet des Sylphes; Marche Hongroise. Romeo and Juliet: Excerpts. Corsair Overture. MENDELSSOHN Hebrides Overture. Symphony No. 4, “Italian.” Ruy Blas Overture. TCHAIKOVSKY: Romeo and Juliet. Piano Concerto No. 1: Mvt. 1. 4 BRAHMS 5 Waltzes, op. 39 (arr. Hertz). Symphony No. 1: Mvt. 2. Concerto for Violin and Cello: Mvt. 1. 5 Tragic Overture. ROSSINI L’italiana in Algeri: Overture. William Tell: Overture. THOMAS Mignon: Overture. DUKAS L’appprenti sorcier. MESSIAEN L’ascencion: 3 Meditations. SIBELIUS Kuolema: Valse triste. Pohjola’s Daughter. WEBER Euryanthe: Overture. SOUSA The Stars and Stripes Forever. BORODIN Prince Igor: Polovetsian Dances. RIMSKY-KORSAKOV Christmas Eve: Suite. Russian Easter Overture. Capriccio espagnol. GLAZUNOV: Scènes de ballet. RACHMANINOFF Symphony No. 2: Mvts. 2 and 3. FRANCK Symphony in d. Prelude, Chorale, and Fugue (arr. Pierné). Rédemption: Symphonic Interlude. Psyché: Suite. GRÉTRY Céphale et Procris: Suite. NICOLAI The Merry Wives of Windsor: Overture. MASSENET Phèdre: Overture. FALLA The Three-Cornered Hat: Suite. RESPIGHI The Fountains of Rome. SCHUBERT-LISZT Wanderer Fantasy. 3 WALTON Façade: Suite. SCHUMANN Symphony No. 4. ALFANO Resurrection: Dieu de grace. 6 CHADWICK Jubilee


This is the third large Monteux collection I’ve had the opportunity to review for Fanfare over the last two years; the others were another Music & Arts set of live performances with the French National Orchestra (30: 3) and the Decca “Original Masters” set of studio recordings from his astonishing final decade (31:1). Each offers its share of treasures, along with a few items that might just as well have been left alone.


Although it’s hard—and, ultimately, unnecessary—to choose, I suggest a strong argument can be made that the present set is the most indispensable of the three. The French set mostly duplicates studio recordings Monteux made with better orchestras, and in better sound; the Decca set consists of reissued studio recordings that, while most of them are wonderful, will probably already be in the collections of serious Monteux fans. The current set, however—an expanded reissue of a 10-disc set originally published in 1997—comprises a total of 75 items, no fewer of 54 of which, according to my count, Monteux never recorded commercially. The original issue was reviewed in Fanfare 21:2 by James Miller; because of the scope of the collection and the authoritative character of his comments, I will avoid duplicating discussion of all the items reissued here; I will, however, supplement and complement some of his observations with some of my own.


First of all, the good news: the original 10-CD set sold for the price of eight; the present issue adds three discs of new material, and features new remasterings of all the original recordings by Maggi Payne, still for the price of eight discs. If you own the older set, this one is worth buying more for the additional items than for the spruced-up sound. Although I haven’t by any means checked every item, the main differences seem to be a bit more presence and a lower noise floor from the original transcription discs; the difference is noticeable but not dramatic.


A few comments for those unfamiliar with the original issue: these recordings were made for weekly broadcast concerts sponsored by the Standard Oil Co. of California; officially, therefore, the orchestra is named “The Standard Symphony Orchestra.” In reality, the San Francisco Symphony alternated weeks with the Los Angeles Philharmonic. The broadcasts were an hour long; for some reason, however, the sponsor placed a 20-minute limit on the duration of any single composition. This meant that few full-length symphonic compositions were programmed, and those that were either were represented by one or two movements, or cut in order to make it under the time limit. In actuality, I count six pieces—in addition to the complete Franck Symphony, evidently a birthday present to Monteux—that exceed the maximum, most of them only by two or three minutes. The longest is the Mendelssohn “Italian” Symphony, at 27:32, with the crucial first-movement exposition repeat; some of the tempos are, shall we say, sprightly. A more extreme treatment is given the Schumann Fourth (on Disc 13; this is one choice I question, especially since Monteux made a complete commercial recording the same year—1952—and, a live 1961 performance has recently been issued by BBC Legends): rather than the c. 27-minute duration of those recordings, this version comes in at 22:26! All four movements are shorn of all repeats, and the tempos are, in places, almost cartoonish; it’s as if Monteux told the sponsor, “You want the complete Schumann Fourth in 20 minutes? Here’s what you’ll get!”


The contents of the set are notable for several other reasons. Not a note by Debussy, Ravel, or Stravinsky is to be found—a dramatic and refreshing change from just about every other Monteux collection ever issued. Five composers each get an entire disc devoted to their music: Beethoven, Strauss, Wagner, Franck, and Berlioz. Of course, three of these composers figure prominently in Monteux’s commercial discography; but he recorded little Strauss and Wagner. Of his beloved Brahms there are several items spread throughout the set, but unfortunately only one symphony movement. Monteux recorded only the Second commercially—and that no fewer than four times—but at least broadcast versions exist of the First and Third with the Concertgebouw Orchestra (on Tahra, possibly still obtainable). It’s surprising, though, to find that he did record quite a bit of Brahms, especially considering the composer’s fairly small number of orchestral works: both overtures, the Haydn Variations , the D-Minor Piano Concerto and the Violin Concerto, the Alto Rhapsody (with Marian Anderson), and the Schicksalslied . The first movement of the “Double” Concerto, published here for the first time, is a powerful reading; more’s the pity that it was not recorded complete. Violinist Blinder was a first-rate concertmaster (and, no less, the teacher of the young Isaac Stern); his brother Boris was a good cellist, but not as consummate a musician.


In his review of the original issue, colleague Miller observes that Monteux, despite his easy-going image and famously engaging personality, was a podium dynamo. I find that this is often true, but that Monteux’s tempos depended much on the repertoire. The Franck Symphony offered here—another item that is more redundant than most—is of almost exactly the same duration as the two San Francisco studio recordings; virtually all the compositions RCA had Monteux redo after the advent of the LP differ from the 78s, made six or eight years earlier, by mere seconds. Many works performed here, including the Mendelssohn overtures, most of the “light” music such as the Rossini overtures and The Sorcerer’s Apprentice , as well as longer works including Tod und Verklärung and Romeo and Juliet , are paced beautifully. I agree with Miller that much of the Classical repertoire, including Beethoven, is on the brisk side, and likewise that most of the Wagner comes off as rather light-weight—a consequence, no doubt, of the orchestra’s sound as much as of Monteux’s tempos.


I took pages of notes on individual performances, but must select only a few to mention here: the booklet lists simply Parsifal , but of course Monteux plays not the entire opera, but the standard “Prelude and Good Friday Music.” In this music especially I miss the more expansive mysticism of Furtwängler and Stokowski. On the other hand, the Flying Dutchman Overture is as stormy as one could wish! Strauss’s Till Eulenspiegel too suffers from an insufficiently weighty approach; at 13:47, this performance is among the fastest I know. Don Juan , on the other hand, is both dashing and passionate, and at 16:32 is conventionally paced. The second movement of the Brahms First (placed, unfortunately, right after the L’italiana Overture) is gorgeous—lovingly phrased and expansively paced; at almost exactly 9:00, it’s close to a full minute longer than the 1963 Concertgebouw version, and slower than Bruno Walter’s Vienna Philharmonic and Columbia Symphony versions! The two movements from Rachmaninoff’s Second likewise make one long for a complete version. Try playing some of this for a fellow collector, and I doubt anyone would guess who the conductor was, or that the recording was made during the composer’s lifetime!


Last, some discussion of the items that are on the three new discs here: Arthur Bloomfield, who selected the contents of the set and provided the extensive notes, dubs Disc 11 “Lollipops”; it includes the Grétry, Nicolai, Massenet, Falla, the William Tell and Tannhäuser Overtures, and The Fountains of Rome . These items were probably omitted from the original set because their sound quality is rather dull, but just about everything here is right up Monteux’s alley; I would only have liked a more expansive climax in Respighi’s “Fountain of Trevi.” Disc 12 is “Monteux as Accompanist”: Solomon brings his usual technical mastery and perfect touch to the Beethoven C-Minor first movement, with Clara Schumann’s cadenza, which he used throughout his career. Lili Kraus is colorful in the Wanderer Fantasy , and Cherkassky is typically individual and occasionally sloppy in the Tchaikovsky; the disc concludes with the Brahms Double. Disc 13 includes the Schumann Fourth already discussed, and a hellaciously fast Mozart “Jupiter” as well, plus the exhilarating Façade excerpts, the Alfano aria, Pohjola’s Daughter (Bloomfield doesn’t mention it, but those who know the piece will be in for quite a shock at the end), and the Chadwick Jubilee , which, along with the Stars and Stripes , is the only American music in the set.


The sound is variable but mostly superior to contemporary commercial recordings. Bloomfield’s notes, an updating of his 1997 originals, are breezy and anecdotal but informative—and how many people still remember Rachmaninoff’s appearance at San Francisco’s two-week festival of his music? He does err in stating that Monteux never recorded the Tragic Overture in the studio; he recorded it with the London Symphony in 1962 along with the Second Symphony and the Academic Festival Overture , but it was not issued until it appeared with the other two works on a 1994 Philips CD. Finally, the discs are in the now-standard envelopes inside a hinged cardboard box; the entire set takes up less than half the shelf space of the original three double jewel cases. If you’re an admirer of Monteux’s art, you’ll want this set. If you’re not, it might very well convert you. Highly recommended.


FANFARE: Richard A. Kaplan

The 21 Mazurkas Scriabin penned over a period of some 15 years (from 1888 to 1903) are musical treasures from one of the most remarkable tone-poets Russia ever produced. Long neglected by pianists, they were for the most part relegated to the limbo of early efforts, or often regarded as inferior ñ albeit interesting ñ imitations of Chopinís more ìauthenticî creations. Doubtlessly, the mystery and melancholy of Chopinís Mazurkas found a sympathetic echo in the hypersensitive soul of the young composer, whose affection for the Polish master began in boyhood and was indeed never to wane. Yet, in adapting the dance most indigenous to Poland and most closely associated with Chopin, Scriabin, even at the early age of 16, by his very nature, could do no less than transform it into something striking and original. It could not be helped: his vision was unique, a way of apprehending the world very much estranged from commonplace notions of reality, where angels, dark imaginings, intense nostalgia, and imitations of unseen realms were the norm. Refracted through the prism of an extraordinary sensibility, his mazurkas would become essentially mazurka-fantasies. They would take on an allure of pieces improvised in the bleakest hours of the night, where subterranean, atavistic passions unexpectedly surge forth and an eerie desolation sets in. At other times, they would beguile by sheer charm and sensuality, often self-indulgently so. The American pianist and critic John Bell Young, himself a noted exponent of Scriabinís music, wrote on hearing an advance copy of this recording: ìTerrific! He is a Scriabinist to the manor born.î Le Vanís recording of Brahmsí Sonatas no. 1 & no. 3 has been acclaimed internationally as was his release of Lisztís Complete Cello/Piano Works with cellist Guido Schiefen for Arte Nova (BMG), awarded best chamber music disc for the year 2000 in the Neue Musik Zeitung. Le Van has resided for several years in France where he is Artistic Director of the International Franz Liszt Festival.

SCHUMANN Piano Sonatas: No. 1; No. 2; No. 3 • Carlo Grante (pn) • MUSIC & ARTS 1220 (79:16)


We don’t get the three sonatas on one disc too often; as you can see from the timing, these apples barely fit into the barrel. So on one plane of gratitude we must acknowledge Carlo Grante’s efforts in this regard. His playing has also been generally well received in these pages, though if one searches the article archives, a preponderance of relatively unknown material predominates. Recording Schumann is definitely a step into the mainstream, and as such the requirements get a little tougher for the discerning record collector, though again, convenience cannot be easily overestimated.


But many will, in the case of the sonatas, attempt to make the argument that grouping them together is a silly exercise anyway, since, well, the Schumann sonatas aren’t really sonatas anyway, are they? I guess it all depends on what your definition of sonata is, and whether juxtaposed in extremis , origins can ultimately constitute the same sort of name that fits a form that Mozart would have easily recognized. The No. 1, for instance, began life as an interpolation from his op. 4 Intermezzos, used as the middle Scherzo movement. A later Fandango, composed the same year, would join the conglomeration as the rather sophisticated first movement. So already we are left wondering whether “sonata” is telling-true or simply an afterthought because no better title came to mind.


Sonata No. 2 started life as a concerto without piano; it was to see at least three other incarnations. In the second edition, a Scherzo fourth movement was added, with significant revisions to movement 1. This edition on the present recording uses the added Scherzo, but retains the first thoughts of the original first movement. This is a rather crazy work (in a wonderful way) that features a unique “Clara” theme in the third movement, followed by a series of variations, and the superimposed contrasting rhythms of the last movement making it especially appealing to a composer like Brahms, who adored it. The final sonata had its origins before the other two, but was completed later. Clara herself thought it “not too incomprehensible,” but admitted that the public and critics didn’t understand it. It is the least popular of the sonatas, but even so has much to offer the Schumann-starved.


But getting back to the original question, are these real sonatas? In the end, yes, for they do follow the form more or less closely, even though Schumann felt as if he were storytelling in the most basic narrative sense of the word, while using the Classical structure as a basis for his methodology. In the end, we don’t really care though, for the music is too engaging and rewarding to be overly concerned with the formal scaffolding that Schumann uses to present it to us.


I admire very much Carlo Grante’s recent release on this same label of piano concertos by Mozart, using the Godowsky cadenzas. His playing there is clean, efficient, well rounded tonally, and masculine, while avoiding any sort of hard edge. I find much of the same approach on this album. It is some of the driest Schumann I have ever heard, Grante seeming to forego pedal unless absolutely necessary, and when he does use it, there is such a judicious and economical application that you still come away amazed at how well some of the inner lines of Schumann’s always-critical middle voices are heard. On the other hand, when I listen to the likes of Earl Wild (Sonata 1) or Marc-André Hamelin (Sonata 2), I find a certain flair and wildness that I am missing here, where the confines of ultimate control dominate all conceptions. And Eric Le Sage’s ongoing series (the three sonatas already out and available) sport more resonant and deeply felt sound than what Music &Arts gives us here. Nonetheless, I am reluctant to rain on Grante’s parade, as what he does here is quite admirable and will find many takers. I count myself among them, even if my ultimate requirements need a little more moisture.


FANFARE: Steven E. Ritter

This release continues Carlo Grante's series of Domenico Scarlatti's complete keyboard works. This series is the only one ever recorded with the same pianist playing all of the works.

"...beautifully played, and recorded, the first box in Music & Arts' series is profoundly impressive." - Jonathan Woolf, Music Web International

"Carlo Grante is one of the most astonishing artists I have ever known and worked with." - Fabio Luisi, The Metropolitan Opera's Principal Conductor

In addition to their unwavering respect for each composer's text (often involving an exhaustive scrutiny of manuscripts and original editions) ,Serkin's interpretations were distinguished by a unique brand of austere, even severe, intensity and directness. The palpable concentration and nervous energy of his playing was melded to a compelling sweep and authority and a constant pursuit of the long line. Rarely if ever did the forward motion of a piece sag or lose focus in Serkin's hands. His immersion in the essence of every work was total, as was his abhorrence of showmanship or display. 'What he hears within him is unsurpassed in purity and nobility; and what he feels is felt with the utmost sincerity and selflessness,' wrote Abram Chasins in 1957. The present compilation focuses on Serkin's 'middle period,' pre-stereo solo Beethoven recordings as documentation of his approach to that composer in familiar sonatas that often appeared on his recitals. *NOT FOR SALE IN THE USA*

While this collection contains many works that Monteux recorded commercially, it also offers several that are new to his discography. Concerning the former, pride of place must go to the Beethoven symphonies. Nineteen years of sitting in the principal violist's chair of the Colonne Orchestra resulted in multiple exposures to the standard repertoire, which Monteux, owing to his remarkable ear, came to know by heart. How much Monteux's interpretations were influenced by those of Edouard Colonne and his various guest conductors is difficult to say. Nevertheless, one can say that his own personal bonhomie made him ideally suited to the even-numbered Beethoven symphonies, which are usually considered less 'profound' than the odd-numbered ones. Certainly he captures perfectly the high spirits and bumptious humour of the Second Symphony, the impetuosity of the Seventh, the unbridled energy and unbuttoned humour of the Eighth, and the triumphant celebration of the brotherhood of mankind in the Ninth. Other notable interpretations here include Stravinsky's Petrushka and Sacre, both of which he had premiered.

For players and listeners alike, the viola quintets of Mozart stand among the highest examples of chamber music. There are many who would not hesitate to name the most often heard of them (the C major and G minor) as representing some of the finest music in our heritage, in any category. The Fine Arts Quartet, which recorded these masterpieces for Vox, was a distinguished American ensemble, tracing its beginnings to the early 1940s in Chicago.

Classical Music

Classical Music

MAHLER Symphony No. 1. WAGNER Faust Overture . Siegfried Idyll • Bruno Walter, cond; NBC SO • MUSIC & ARTS 1241, mono (77:25) Live: New York 4/8/1939


This important release brings together Walter’s complete final concert from the series of five he did at NBC in 1939. The Faust Overture appeared in a previous Music & Arts Walter collection; otherwise I’m not aware of any previous CD release of the material. The sound is excellent: full-bodied with great clarity and immediacy (capturing many of Walter’s exhortations and strenuous vocalizations)—interestingly, Walter seemed to hold a minority (high) opinion of the notorious Studio 8H.


The Mahler is Walter’s earliest preserved performance of the work (indeed, the earliest by any conductor I’m aware of; Mitropoulos’s Minneapolis premiere recording dates from 1940). It is a reading of thrilling spontaneity, a combustible meeting of Walter’s totally idiomatic Mahler style with the distinctively bright, tightly focused expressive intensity of the NBC orchestra, which responds with total commitment. The first movement is lithe, supple, with a very flexible pulse; hear his impulsive pressing ahead in response to the music’s having modulated one key too far in the sharpward direction (E Major, Rehearsal 6 + 8). The beginning of the slow movement brings a real surprise: what sounds like Mahler’s original conception of solo cello doubling the customary bass in unison—an experiment Walter seems not to have repeated in any of his later extant performances. The finale is intensely dramatic, working to a dénouement of overwhelming emotional force and, ultimately, saturated splendor.


Other available Walter performances give a fascinating picture of the gradual transformation of his interpretation over the years: A live 1947 version with the LPO (Testament) is similar in conception to NBC: swift, light-toned, characterful, and spontaneous, but preserved in problematic sound. A Concertgebouw performance from the same year (Tahra r RCO Live) is sharp and pungent, with a memorably old-world string style. A 1950 performance with the Bavarian State Orchestra (Orfeo) is darker, smoother, less pointed; the 1954 NYPO studio recording weightier, straighter, more severe. By comparison, the final Columbia Symphony version (1961) represents very much an old man’s view—mellow, deliberate, soft-focused, and comparatively uninflected.


Walter conducts a memorable performance of Wagner’s Faust Overture, of seething intensity and swashbuckling drama, on a looser rein than Toscanini’s with the same orchestra two years later (Naxos). Siegfried Idyll was a great Walter specialty, and the NBC version is distinguished by its swift pacing, expressive freedom, and highly nuanced execution, with a pp conclusion of truly heart-stopping beauty. Again, comparisons are instructive: the 1935 studio recording with the VPO (Opus Kura) transparent, lean, surprisingly ascetic with very little string vibrato. A live Los Angeles PO performance from 1949 (Music & Arts) is similar in conception to NBC, but less refined, heavier in expression. Two NYP versions—the 1953 studio recording (United Archives) and a live one from 1957 (Music & Arts)—are more symphonically imposing, less intimate; the final Columbia Symphony recording (1959) slower, less flexible, of muted shades and a decidedly autumnal feeling.


All in all, a major new addition to the Walter discography, one that shows the conductor at his formidable best, and preserved in lifelike, vivid sound. Riches indeed!


FANFARE: Boyd Pomeroy