MOZART: PIANO CONCERTOS 20 & 2

VAUGHAN WILLIAMS: SYMPHONIES N

MOZART: OPERA ARIAS CAROL VAN

Throughout the LP and CD era we have had collections of Spanish orchestral music featuring one or other of Turina's exotic evocations, but this is the first proper historical assessment of his achievement, and it immediately shows his extraordinary orginality and sensitivity to Mediterranean atmosphere. Ravel's Spanish scene-painting is deflected through a prism of cultivated awareness; a Frenchman travelling south and responding with a personal, very Gallic sensibility. But Turina was born in Seville and the Spanish light was inherent in his very consciousness. Thus, the opening of the Danzas fantasticas immediately brings a piercing shaft of sunlight from the violins, then the spirit of the dance takes over. The mood of ''Exaltacion'' soon appears in the full orchestra, but there are kaleidoscopic changes of mood and the close brings haunting distanced effects, as if everything were happening in the imagination. ''Ensueno'' (the second number) opens dramatically, then evening bells toll gently and woodwind intone the undulating dance music; the soft evening string perfumes drift in with echoing flutes, and again the gently nuanced textures suggest a blissful dream. Even the energetic ''Orgia'', which opens with thrusting lower strings and bravura horns, makes way for the most delicate woodwind imagery and fragile violins.

La procesion del Rocio, Turina's first big success, was composed six years earlier, in 1913, and has a comparable ambivalence between the opening energetic ''Triana'' with its seguidilla and garrotin dance rhythms and the procession itself, which begins with flute and tabour and then reveals a tenderly yearning tune in the lower strings. Following this the music moves on to describe a gaudy religious occasion, full of Latin hyperbole.

The Sinfonia sevillana belongs to 1920, and brings even greater skill in placing atmospheric pictorialism within a firm structural framework. The opening ''Panorama'' is self-descriptive, but the flamenco spirit soon brings in the dance rhythms. In the evocation of the ''Por el Rio Guadalquivir'' (the river which runs through Seville) an exquisitely delicate violin solo leads to a shimmering imagery of the sunshine on the rippling waters, while the ''Fiesta'' finale errupts with exuberance and ends grandly.

Ritmos was written in 1928. Described as a ''Fantasia correografico'' it is neatly conceived, a joined series of six vignettes of enormous character and charm. The titles speak for themselves. A solemn ''Preludio'' leads to a measured ''Danza lenta''; then a ''Vals tragico'' acts as a foil for an engagingly scored ''Garrotin'', while a delicate ''Intermedio'' anticipates the lighthearted closing ''Danza exotica'', which recalls earlier themes in its vigorous coda.

The Bamberg Symphony Orchestra plays all this music with great distinction; full-bloodedly, yet with appealing finesse. Woodwind solos (especially Turina's dark-eyed favourite, the cor anglais) are a constant delight and Almeida ensures that the suffusing dance rhythms (Peterna, zapateado, garrotin, etc.) are all glitter and be gay; yet when the composer's mood is vigorous, there is plenty of orchestral vehemence. The recording is wide ranging, with the resonance adding a glowing bloom overall. It brings lustrous, often translucent string sounds, and only occasionally masks detail a little when the ample lower spectrum is at its most vociferous.

-- Ivan March, Gramophone [7/1992]

ELEANOR STEBER - MOZART, GOUNO

CHICAGO SYMPHONY ORCHESTRA- TH

MENDELSSOHN: VIOLIN CONCERTO,

Superlative Wagnerian singing - Toscanini keeps the music swiftly and taut, while giving the soloists plenty of room for the most telling, eloquent turns of phrase.

The Walküre Act I excerpt was not published until several years after Toscanini's death, when it was partnered by Götterdämmerung excerpts taken from the same 1941 concert. It would have made this disc still more attractive if both had been included, but as it is we have here a glorious example of superlative Wagnerian singing. Melchior was 51 years old at the time of the broadcast, although you would never guess this from his marvellously youthful, ardent tones, and Traubel was in superb form, too. Toscanini moves the music on quite swiftly and the orchestral phrasing is fairly taut, but neither soloist seems under the slightest pressure, and each has plenty of room for the most telling, eloquent turns of phrase. The balance favours the singers, and I rather fancy that background noise has been suppressed a little too much, but the sound is not at all bad for its date.

I liked the Siegfried Idyll performance very much, for it has an attractive sense of repose and gentle affection, with some very poetic contributions from the solo woodwind. The sound here is pretty good, as it is in the Tristan Prelude and Liebestod, which are played in a lean, clean fashion, beautifully balanced, but rather lacking in passion and atmosphere. There is a slightly cramped sound in the Ride of the Valkyries, but better that it should be here than in the most important items. A most desirable disc, which offers many rewards.

-- A. S., Gramophone [12/1991]

Toscanini first conducted this work when he was 19 at Rio in 1886. In the succeeding years in Italy and elsewhere he conducted it dozens of times with singers of the calibre of Bellincioni, Bori, Dalla Rizza and Muzio as Violetta. He came to record it, at live broadcasts, in 1946, an incredible 60 years after he first directed the opera in the theatre and 20 after he last conducted it there, at La Scala. Received opinion has always given his reading the thumbs down as being too fast and peremptory, unheeding of his singers, and altogether too dictatorial. I have never adhered to that view and renewed listening has only enhanced my admiration for Toscanini's reading of the score. As Harvey Sachs points out in his invaluable note for this reissue, Toscanini followed the traditional theatre cuts (approved by Verdi?) and tinkered with the orchestration. So much for him keeping to Holy Writ.

That said, his interpretation, and this is what matters, fulfils Verdi's intentions to the hilt. The work is surely conceived through the nervous, overheated passions and feelings of the heroine. From first to last we are enveloped in her world—hectic in Act 1, desperate for true love in Act 2 scene 1, lonely and rejected in scene 2 (where Toscanini, by keeping Violetta up to the mark, never allows for sentimentality) and tragic in Act 3. By his close observation of the instrumental nuts and bolts, and by his highly individual and inspiriting control of his orchestra, the feeling of desperation on Violetta's part that courses through the score, which is of the essence, is always there, felt in stabbing string phrases and plangent wind. The sound is lean, tense and excitable. Listen to the gambling duel between Alfredo and the Baron—has it ever sounded as taut and menacing as this?

No, the trouble with this set is not Toscanini but his singers, none of whom is near ideal. What one would give for a Toscanini recording with Bori, Muzio, Callas or Scotto! Albanese catches Violetta's desperation but only by adding lacrymose touches to the line, itself often bumpy (three breaths in the first phrase of ''Addio del passato''), actually sobbing in Acts 2 and 3, and seldom producing the full tone many passages require. In sum, the performance is melodramatic in the wrong way, nowhere more so than in the letter reading. Peerce sings strongly and with due passion, but shows no sense of a Verdian style—practically everything is punched out in a monotonous forte—and pays no attention to Verdi's dynamic markings. By contrast, Merrill is too subdued and detached. His young baritone is mellow and pleasing, but the authority and eloquence of an experienced Giorgio Germont, such as Amato (who once sang the role with Toscanini), Tibbett or Bruson is missing. All the smaller roles are inadequately cast.

As Kleiber (DG, 3/86) and Muti (EMI, 11/87) come close to achieving Toscanini's incandescence and have far superior casts, they must remain recommendations for a conductor's Traviata. Kleiber makes the same cuts as Toscanini; Muti plays the score exactly as Verdi wrote it. Of course, if you want the greatest Violetta you must go to Callas (EMI, 11/87 and 2/91). Even so, I wouldn't want to be without Toscanini's version because of its historic importance and because of his blazing, uncompromising sincerity of purpose. The new transfers do what they can to ameliorate the close, confined recording in the notorious Studio 8-H, but, of course, nothing can eradicate Toscanini's own singing 'counterpoint' to some passages.'

-- Alan Blyth, Gramophone [4/1992]

I wondered at first why the Overture was placed last on this CD, until I listened to the performance. Here the orchestra don't get off to a very clean start: ensemble is not quite precise, and the playing takes a few bars to settle down. Then the effect is smoothly accomplished, with plenty of vigour. Of the two symphonies, No. 40 in G minor opens the disc attractively and we discover that the Berlin Philharmonic, without a conductor, display a nicely relaxed sense of Mozartian pacing and are enjoying the music enough to provide the first movement's exposition repeat. There is fine wind playing in the Andante and the string phrasing is warmly gracious, while the horns show pleasing finesse in the Trio of the Minuet.

The account of the Linz Symphony is also well-judged and the music making throughout the whole disc, although distinctly weighty in the first movement of the Linz, shows a proper Mozartian sensibility... The BPO are used to playing under conductors of strong charisma (Karajan was still at the helm when this record was made)...[but] there is never any feeling of inflexibility... The sound is full and nicely resonant without clouding inner detail...and is certainly enjoyable.

-- Ivan March, Gramophone [11/1989]

BERLIOZ: HAROLD IN ITALY, ETC

MASTERS OF THE BIG BANDS - THE

You can tell that Douglas put his heart and soul into this piece. Nothing is taken for granted, while the solo part has been substantially re-thought via a varied and impressive pianistic vocabulary.

The RCA recording of the Tchaikovsky First Concerto is something of an old friend, having first appeared around the time of Barry Douglas's triumph as gold medallist at the Eighth Tchaikovsky International Piano Competition in Moscow: you can certainly tell that he had put his heart and soul into the piece. Nothing is taken for granted, while the solo part has been substantially re-thought via a varied and impressive pianistic vocabulary (most especially in the first movement). Slatkin's LSO accompaniment is eagerly responsive, particularly from the woodwind department (for example, at 216" into the first movement); but the recording of the orchestra is tonally rather thin and a quiet low B flat appears to have been snipped from 630" into the first movement, a possible editing casualty. But, as Tchaikovsky Firsts go (and there are plenty to choose from), this one is keen, cool, nicely animated and fully deserving of IM's approval.

-- Gramophone [4/1994]

This superior double album contains his final big-band swing recordings (and two songs from 1956), along with all of his Victor small-group sides (which led to the formation of his All-Stars). One can readily understand why he broke up his orchestra for, despite Armstrong's fine singing and playing, the extra horns by the mid-'40s were operating as a dead weight, anonymously backing him. In contrast, the small group inspired Armstrong to some of his finest playing in years (he builds a long magnificent solo on "Jack-Armstrong Blues") and trombonist/singer Jack Teagarden proved to be a perfect musical partner on tunes like "A Song Was Born" and "Rockin' Chair." Fortunately the combo recordings are now available in CD format on Pops: 1940's Small-Band Sides. ~ Scott Yanow, AllMusic.com

Personnel includes: Louis Armstrong (vocals, trumpet); Jack Teagarden (vocals, trombone); Ernie Caceres (baritone, saxophone, clarinet); Bobby Hackett (trumpet, cornet); Vic Dickenson, Kid Ory (trombone); Barney Bigard, Peanuts Hucko (clarinet); Charlie Beal, Leonard Feather, Dick Cary, Johnny Guarnieri (piano); Allan Reuss, Bud Scott, Al Casey (guitar); Red Callender, Bob Haggart, Al Hall, Arvell Shaw (bass); Zutty Singleton, Minor Hall, Sid Catlett, George Wettling, Cozy Cole (drums).

Recorded between 1946 & 1947.

Liner Note Author: Dan Morgenstern.

Recording information: 04/27/1946-08/01/1956.

Illustrator: Mark Hess.

SCHUBERT: SYMPHONY NO 5, ROSAM