If you’re looking for an inexpensive single disc containing Saint-Saëns’ most popular orchestral works, then you can’t miss with this collection. I often wonder if Ormandy had not gone on to remake his core repertoire with RCA, in mostly duller performances and lousy sound, whether his reputation would be as low as it is at present. There’s some absolutely sensational music making on this disc, and to prove it I offer three sound samples for you to consider.

First, this is one of the great “Organ” Symphonies, not perhaps quite as exciting as Munch, but awfully close, with amazingly fine playing from the Philadelphians and astonishingly good sonics for the period (1962). E. Power Biggs is the excellent soloist, offering a rendition of the organ part that’s unusually well articulated rhythmically. Consider the opening of the finale: bold and quite striking in its firmly phrased, grand reprise of the symphony’s motto theme (first sound sample). Ormandy never matched this performance, and he re-recorded this symphony at least twice.

The symphony may be fine, but it’s the couplings that really close the deal. The Marche militaire française has plenty of swagger, and these versions of the Bacchanale from Samson et Dalila and the Danse macabre are simply the best available. Ormandy does a little light restoring of the former, and it matters not a bit–this performance just drips sex and couldn’t be more wildly uninhibited (second sound sample). As for the Danse, just listen to those Philadelphia violins sing out the main theme (third sound sample). It doesn’t get any better than that.

The Carnival of the Animals is no mere make-weight bonus. Heard in its chamber scoring, the performers make an impressive list: Philippe Entremont and Gaby Casadesus on pianos, Régis Pasquier and Yan-Pascal Tortelier on violins, Gérard Caussé on viola, and no less than the young Yo-Yo Ma on cello. Taken together, you have a perfect disc of Saint-Saëns favorites in performances as good or better than any available. And it’s all offered at budget price. Pure gold.

– ClassicsToday (David Hurwitz)

Soloists were principals of the Philadelphia Orchestra under Ormandy.

REVIEW:

The Philadelphia Orchestra’s first two releases for Ondine under Christoph Eschenbach (Bartók and Tchaikovsky) were extremely good, no doubt about it, but this Mahler Sixth is really extraordinary. Part of its success must stem from the fact that the best German conductors usually do misery especially well, finding the dark side of just about everything. If you don’t believe me, check out Kurt Sanderling’s startlingly deep and edgy rendition of Poulenc’s Concert Champêtre on Supraphon. So you can just imagine what can happen with a piece like Mahler’s Sixth. Anyone fortunate enough to have heard Eschenbach’s performances of this work with the NDR Orchestra in Hamburg will know that he has a special feeling for its harrowing intensity and expressionistic instrumental palette. Toss in the collective virtuosity of the Philadelphia Orchestra, and the result is, to put it mildly, pretty special.

As a coupling, the early piano quartet movement is more appropriate than you might at first think. First of all, it shares the same key as the symphony, and second, it’s useful to have it along as part of an all-Mahler program, allowing collectors to round out their collections without having to search for an acceptable all-chamber-music program. The engineering also represents the best in this series so far, with virtually no audience noise, tremendous presence in both stereo and multichannel formats, and extremely natural balances between orchestral sections. I know that Mahler Sixes seem to be a dime a dozen these days, but this one, a first for Philadelphia, belongs among the elite few (Bernstein I and II, Chailly, Levi, T. Sanderling, and Gielen). It’s just bloody thrilling.

— ClassicsToday.com (David Hurwitz)

Gilels's playing is leonine and fiery, and his virtuosity is never less than imposing. There is much poetry, too...

-- Gramophone [6/1983]
reviewing the first CD release of the Gilels/Mehta Piano Concerto, CBS 36660


David Oistrakh plays...with the total skill and musicianship which seem as rewarding today as they did 20 years ago... [T]he Philadelphia strings are both very strong and very impressive.

-- Gramophone [12/1982]
reviewing an LP release of the Oistrakh/Ormandy Violin Conceto, CBS 60312

SIBELIUS: FINLANDIA, VALSE TRI

Franck: Symphony in D Minor, M. 48, Symphonic Variations, M.

Dvorak's three concertos were written in 1876 (piano), 1883 (violin) and 1894 (cello). Like Gerald Finzi, another transcendental national lyric composer, Dvo?ák's last orchestral work was a cello concerto.

Both works are given the customary weight by the Philadelphian strings. In fact Ormandy encourages a strong symphonic approach to these two works. This is the orchestral equivalent of a sleek Bentley. The Cello Concerto emerges best of the two works. However first to the Violin Concerto. This is a work I have always felt affectionate towards. My reference set is the Supraphon recording with Josef Suk. The Sony has Stern in place of Suk. Stern's touch of schmaltz and flashiness sometimes jars in such a cleanly rustic nationalist work. However there is much to take pleasure in too. At 10.12 in the first movement no-one, not even Suk, achieves that moment of pulse-stilling calm. Another example is the needle-fragile crystal glass dance Stern evokes at the start of the Allegro giocoso. This is a good interpretation but the age of the recording tells against it marginally but noticeably.

Leonard Rose is ripe, noble, brilliant, edgy, resinous of tone and exciting and he brings all the strengths that we know from his Sony recording of the Brahms Double Concerto. The sound quality is a notch or two above that for the other Dvo?ák work on this disc but still grainy in texture.

-- Rob Barnett, MusicWeb International

Chopin, Debiles & Tchaikovsky: Ballet Music

I didn't at all take to Fleisher's account of Beethoven No. 3, but I must say that this is a most impressive and exciting account of the Emperor, aided and abetted by a wonderful accompaniment from Szell and his orchestra—and, I mustn't forget, by a most intelligently balanced recording.

Fleisher plays the first movement with splendid brio and the dash with which he gives out the opening flourishes is equalled by the orchestra's attack and energy when it starts the tutti. In one passage of brilliant semiquavers he tends to hurry very slightly, both times it comes, but in general his rhythm is excellent. There are, too, passages of most lovely liquid playing, a kind of brush of quiet sound, beautiful not only as sound but admirable in that they let woodwind solos come through without any forcing by the players. Fleisher is obviously always aware of what's going on in the orchestra and knows when he should be taking part in chamber music, rather than always holding the front of the stage. He does indulge in a wide range of speeds but not, I suppose, more than is usually done. The slow movement is played simply by both soloist and orchestra, as it should be— yet it's a difficult thing to play something so apparently simply but make it as moving as it is here.

At the very end of the movement (bar 80) you may be surprised to hear the strings play a long crotchet, arco, instead of the pizzicato to which we are all so used (which starts only at the last quaver of the bar). I asked Denis Matthews (always a mine of Beethoven information) about this and he told me he had played the concerto with Szell and was quite astonished at rehearsal when the expected 'plonk' from the strings didn't happen. Szell told him that Beethoven's autograph has the `pizz' written over the rests in the middle of the bar: and I now see that the preface in the Eulenburg miniature score states the same thing (despite which, the word is printed at the start of the bar!). This is not a trivial point, for it occurs, of course, at just about the most magical moment of the whole concerto and I do think that the long, grave, B flat from the strings is far more apt than the rather disturbing 'plonk' which emphasizes Beethoven's change from B to B flat in the wrong way.

The finale goes splendidly all through and I only don't like Fleisher's mannered playing of part of the main theme each time. I refer to the bars marked espressivo, which would appear to suggest something other than his jerky delivery of the right hand phrases. But this is a small point and there is no doubt that this is the sort of performance that will make you enjoy the music afresh, for the playing all through the concerto is both zestful and perceptive; Szell's contribution is an added source of pleasure—and the admirable engineering complements the players' artistry.

-- Gramophone [1/1966, reviewing the original LP release of the Emperor Concerto]

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The apologies invariably made for Beethoven's Triple Concerto seem to have an effect on performances. I have rarely, if ever, known one which did not in some respect carry an apology with it, and I have rarely, if ever, known one which treated the work in the strong bravura way which makes for success in the Emperor or violin concertos. But here is just such a performance, and it makes one glory in what Beethoven did achieve in the work.

The scale of the work as conceived by Stern, Rose and Istomin is quite different from that of the rival performances on record, however enjoyable. The precision and stylishness of Schneiderhan, Fournier and Anda on DGG make for an eighteenthcentury manner in the outer movements, particularly the first. Some may well continue to prefer it, and technically the balance with the orchestra is better than on the new CBS disc, but the newly roused echoes of other Beethoven concertos place the Stern/ Rose/Istomin performance in the right period. It is after all a produce of the Fidelio years, the years which also produced the Fourth Piano Concerto, the Violin Concerto and the Symphonies Nos. 4 to 6. It is possible to regard the formalism of the outer movements, their conscientious balance of thematic statements by each of the three soloists in turn, as a return to eighteenth-century practice, but the sheer size speaks rather of a really grand manner. And if the thematic material is more bald and less striking than that in other Beethoven concertos (at least in the first movement) there was a practical need with three soloists to keep ideas short.

In achieving a sense of size Stern, Rose and Istomin reveal their own stature in the relaxation of the playing. Lesser players would either screw up the tension or become ponderous, but these three over and over again convey the joy of their playing: the relaxed lilt of the second subject, Rose's natural warmth in the slow movement enunciation, the whole of the final Rondo Polacca. Not only has the main Polacca theme tremendous verve, the middle episode, when the `yatta-tah-ta-tah-ta' rhythm emerges on horn and lower woodwind, has a unique tang of East European music. Stern obviously takes the idea of a Polacca literally and exaggerates the first beat in each dactyllic phrase, giving a real bounce to the music, and he is matched by his colleagues.

Then the semiquaver allegro reprise of the main theme towards the end is taken very fast and very clear, the result extraordinarily exciting. You have only to compare the DGG performance, very fast too and excellent in its way, to realize why Stern's, Rose's and Istomin's playing is not merely vital but great. Equally exciting are the furious florid dialogues between violin and 'cello in the passage-work of first and last movements. All three soloists are masterly in varying the tension, in shaping towards climaxes, and Ormandy draws from the Philadelphia Orchestra yet another of his really full-blooded accompaniments. In relation to the soloists the orchestra may seem a little backward, but the salient tuttis burst out with great effect, to match the scale of the soloists' playing. The nearness of the soloists does of course make it hard for them to sound as though they are playing really softly, and initial sotto voce entries in the finale are too loud.

In my detailed comparisons I have occasionally found points in which rivals score over Stern, Rose and Istomin, and the other CBS version has Serkin in marvellous form actually dominating the performance from the least prominent solo part, the non-virtuoso piano role originally devised for the Archduke Rudolf. But no minor shortcomings can alter the positive merits of what could well come to be regarded as a classic record.

-- Gramophone [10/1965, reviewing the original LP release of the Triple Concerto]

TCHAIKOVSKY: SYMPHONY NO 5, SE

Let’s cut right to the chase: Ormandy’s Tallis Fantasia is one of the reference versions of the work, while his Delius is every bit as fine as Beecham’s. It has all of the same virtues: flowing tempos (indeed, in Brigg Fair he’s a minute quicker), magnificent orchestral playing, and a willingness to let the music unfold freshly and naturally. The only reason these performances fail to receive the acclaim that they deserve is because the English press, historically, has been quick to dismiss foreigners who dare to compete with home-grown talent in “their” music, and no one else much cares.

Still, just listen to the massed Philadelphia strings in the first great tutti of the Tallis Fantasia (first sound sample). This is great playing, and beyond that Ormandy’s tempo, a bit quicker than usual, gives the music an uncommon degree of energy without compromising its nobility of spirit. The Fantasia on ‘Greensleeves’ is basically indestructible and certainly in no danger here, while Sony offers a lovely bonus in the form of The Lark Ascending, affectingly played by Cleveland Orchestra concertmaster Rafael Druian and the Cleveland Sinfonietta under Louis Lane.

As for the Delius works, has there ever been a more purely beautiful version of In a Summer Garden? Or a more rapturously played recording of Brigg Fair (second sound sample)? Ormandy’s reputation has never been lower than it is at present, but there was a reason he was Sony’s (Columbia’s) “house” conductor in the 50s and 60s. He and his orchestra maintained a level of versatility and polish that no one else could match, and his catholicity of taste was remarkable. This surprising disc makes a fine tribute to his art, and an eloquent reminder of his achievement in repertoire for which he was, to put it mildly, not a household name.

-- David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

WAGNER: ORCHESTRAL HIGHLIGHTS

Debussy: La mer, Prélude à l'après-midi d'un faune, Danse &

"The emotional fabric of this music draws a warm response from Ormandy and the Philadelphia to produce fine accounts of both the Sixth Symphony and Romeo and Juliet. The introduction to the Sixth is suitably full of expectation, and the third movement full of vitality. Both the playing and sound quallty are superb." Performance: 5 (out of 5), Sound: 5 (out of 5) -- Nicholas Rast, BBC Music Magazine

HOLST: THE PLANETS ORMANDY

*** This title is a reissue of a Japanese release with liner notes in Japanese. ***

*** This title is a reissue of a Japanese release with liner notes in Japanese. ***

*** This title is a reissue of a Japanese release with liner notes in Japanese. ***

One of the glories of Ormandy’s RCA discography... This CD is a Gem.

The main work here, recorded in 1971, is one of the glories of Ormandy’s RCA discography. Based on Russian folklore, Ilya Murometz is a sprawling, magnificent, elaborate score that showcases the virtuoso orchestra in a rich, late-Romantic style. Ormandy was almost certainly introduced to this score by Leopold Stokowski, who recorded it in 1940 during a period in which he was still conducting the orchestra in recordings, even though Ormandy had taken over as the sole music director. Ormandy first recorded the work in 1956, only a year before Columbia began recording in stereo. Both he and Stokowski took fairly radical cuts; playing the symphony complete did not become fashionable until the arrival of the CD era. Here Ormandy shows no signs of age; he luxuriates in the sounds his orchestra makes, and while the celebrated Philadelphia strings are astonishing in Gliére’s intricate figurations, it is the brass section that really carries the day. Unless almost 59 minutes of Ilya Murometz are not enough for you, this performance and recording will knock your socks off.

The brief Rachmaninoff folk-song settings are late works, written in 1926 and given their world premiere performance by the Philadelphia Orchestra under Stokowski; this is Ormandy’s only recording of them, sung in English. They show Rachmaninoff to be, as I have claimed before in these pages, the most underrated orchestrator of the 20th Century. In the first song Rachmaninoff makes a miniature tone poem of the simple, strophic tune sung by unison male voices; the second, written for unison women’s voices, hints at the Symphonic Dances in its woodwind figurations. The whimsical third, usually given the title “Powder’d Paint” in English, was a favorite of Rachmaninoff’s; RCA’s complete edition of his recordings includes a performance of this by a Russian folk artist with the composer improvising a piano accompaniment. This CD is a gem.

-- Richard Kaplan, Fanfare

*** This title is a reissue of a Japanese release with liner notes in Japanese. ***

*** This title is a reissue of a Japanese release with liner notes in Japanese. ***

*** This title is a reissue of a Japanese release with liner notes in Japanese. ***

*** This title is a reissue of a Japanese release with liner notes in Japanese. ***

Great news! Arkivmusic.com has gotten its "on demand" hands on the Japanese RCA Ormandy Edition, making these recordings available in North America at far saner prices. Some of these performances are outstanding, nowhere more so than here--one of the greatest Sibelius recordings ever made. Ormandy's Fourth Symphony is magnificent: gaunt, direct, and unflinching, with stunning string playing and the most intelligent approach on disc to the percussion conundrum in the finale (chimes at the "sonore" climax, glockenspiel everywhere else). Some listeners might prefer a swifter tempo in the scherzo, but this interpretation is all of a piece, taking in the work as if in one sweeping gesture, and Sibelians will understand just what that means.

The Seventh also is a perfectly paced, immaculately played performance, with none of the mannerisms in the pastoral interlude that disturb Ormandy's first recording for Sony. As for the tone poems, there is no finer performance of Oceanides available anywhere, and Pohjola's Daughter is just about as good. Ormandy could come across as a somewhat stiff and unsmiling interpreter, but not here, and particularly not in music that requires an absolutely logical, indeed mathematical approach to tempo relationships between sections. Both in terms of performance quality and programming (Sibelius at his very greatest throughout), it just doesn't get any better.

The Japanese edition apparently used original unaltered sources, meaning the tapes were not remastered in any way, and so vary widely in sound quality--from very good, as here, to virtually unlistenable (Mahler Second). So until someone goes back and redoes them from scratch--and we may have a very long wait--you will have to buy selectively. These recordings, from the late 1970s, stand among the best-sounding of the lot. A magnificent release that you won't want to miss!

--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

*** This title is a reissue of a Japanese release with liner notes in Japanese. ***

"Ormandy gave the American premiere of the Fifteenth Symphony as well as a number of other Shostakovich works...The playing could hardly be surpassed. The recording sounds superb and stands up well against subsequent versions."

Penguin Guide [2003/4 Edition]

*** This title is a reissue of a Japanese release with liner notes in Japanese. ***

*** This title is a reissue of a Japanese release with liner notes in Japanese. ***

Here's another spectacular release from RCA Japan's Ormandy/Philadelphia edition, courtesy of Arkivmusic.com's "on demand" program. These are wonderful, truly Romantic performances featuring amazing playing, string sound that's beyond gorgeous, and interpretations that have a lot more subtlety than Ormandy usually gets credit for. The Seventh is particularly impressive, one of the finest versions available, full of tension in the outer movements, capped by a blazing coda that puts many other, better-known recordings to shame. Listen to the woodwinds cut through the full orchestra in the fortissimo counterstatement of the first movement's main theme without significant orchestral retouching; or notice the exciting transition to the scherzo's main section--there are many such distinctive moments here.

The Eighth is just as fine, and even better recorded, with more presence from the timpani and a bit more air around the instruments. In the first movement it's amazing to hear string playing with such incisive rhythm, particularly at the climaxes, and it's instructive to note how much passion this generates at a basically moderate tempo. The Adagio's exchanges between winds and strings couldn't be better timed; the third-movement waltz is, as you might imagine, the last word in sophisticated phrasing; and the scherzo-variations in the finale is a riot, with bright horn trills and, in the coda, a really vulgar (and totally apt) trumpet smear to cap the festivities. Ormandy also takes the violins up an octave just before the end, between those slashing final chords, arguably a more effective option than the Czech tradition of doubling them with horns. Hearing these performances again is like getting reacquainted with a best friend that you never should have lost touch with over the years.

--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

*** This title is a reissue of a Japanese release with liner notes in Japanese. ***

*** This title is a reissue of a Japanese release with liner notes in Japanese. ***

KODÁLY Háry Janos: Suite. PROKOFIEV Lieutenant Kijé: Suite. STRAVINSKY The Firebird: Suite (1919) • Eugene Ormandy, cond; Philadelphia O • RCA-ArkivMusic 38125 (68:45)

"The LP coupling of the Háry Janos (1975) and Lieutenant Kijé (1974) suites—one describing imaginary exploits, the other the exploits of an imaginary soldier—was a natural, and one of the best-sounding Philadelphia RCAs. Of course, both are virtuoso show-stoppers played by a virtuoso orchestra. The bass drum in “The Battle and Defeat of Napoleon” will give your woofers a workout. The 1973 Firebird Suite is not captured quite so dramatically, but this Rimsky-influenced work was right up Ormandy’s alley, and the performance stands up just fine alongside the knockout versions of Kodály’s and Prokofiev’s musical fables. This has to be awarded 'Best in Show.'”

FANFARE: Richard A. Kaplan

Rachmaninoff: Piano Concertos Nos. 1, 4 & Rhapsody on a Them

Berlioz: Symphonie fantastique, Op. 14, H. 48 - Dukas: L'app

PIANO CONCERTOS NO. 3 & 4