Record Reviews
by JOHN M. CONLY
Beethoven: Overtures, “Leonora” No. 1 and No. 2; Overtures, “Fidelio” and “Leonora” No. 3 (Clemens Krauss conducting Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra; London LD9185 and LD-9186: two separate 10”). Here is something special. London’s publicity says these are the last records we shall have of the late Clemens Krauss, who looked enough like Wagner to provoke the rumor that he was his son. After hearing these performances, I could easily believe that he was Wagner himself. The four overtures to Beethoven’s sole opera here come forth in a smashing dramatic torrent it is folly to try to resist. No matter that the originals probably were recorded, direct on disk, six or seven years ago, and that there is an audible hiss. I would buy these at four times the price.
Beethoven: Septet in E Flat Major, Op. 20 (Members of the Vienna Octet; London LL-1191:12”). This is played in the original scoring, as the Toscanini version is not, and also is broadly romanticized, as the Toscanini version is not. It is beautiful notwithstanding — a performance with personality, of which you can become fond, and recorded with brilliant lifelikeness.
Corelli: Twelve Church and Twelve Chamber Sonatas, Op. 3 and Op. 4 (Musicorum Arcadia players; Vox DL-163: three 12" in simulated chamois album with program brochure by Joseph Braunstein). This might be called a portrait of music becoming secular, in the era before Bach and Vivaldi. As such it is fascinating, but there is more to it than that. Corelli had so many ideas that sameness of form struck him as no handicap, and it won’t bother you either. This is bright, lively, lovely stuff.
Mahler:Kindertotenlieder with Bruckner:Te Deum (Kathleen Ferrier, contralto; Bruno Walter conducting Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra in the Mahler; Bruno Walter conducting soloists, Westminster Choir, and New York PhilharmonicSymphony Orchestra in the Bruckner; Columbia ML-4980: 12”). Presumably this is the same Mahler performance that was on the 10-inch ML-2187, but reprocessing has brightened the sound noticeably, and the interpretation is out of the world (and so, so sad). The Bruckner Te Deum is one of the composer’s tightest, tersest works, and my favorite of all. Walter’s well-behaved singers and players bring out its somber triumph excellently. Fine recording.
Mendelssohn: Symphony No. 3, “Scotch,” with Overture, “A Calm Sea and Prosperous Voyage” (Paul Kletzki conducting Israel Philharmonic Orchestra; Angel 35183: 12”). A new ensemble makes its disk debut and, believe me, this is a honey of an orchestra, ready for the major leagues right now. Kletzki’s “Scotch” is rich and heady, more enchanting than any other version, and the sound is faultless. In the same listing, Angel offers the same performers in Mahler’s First Symphony (Angel 35180), and his Ninth, coupled on two disks with Schönberg’s Verklärte Nacht (Angel 3526-B). The First takes second place to Bruno Walter’s magical Columbia disk; the Ninth and the Schönberg each seem to me the best in the business. But anyway, keep your ear bent to the IPO. Sometimes you can hear musicians loving their work, and these do.
Roussel:Le Festin de l’Araignée; Petite Suite pour Orchestre (Ernest Ansermet conducting (Archestre de la Suisse Romande; London LL-1179: 12”). The plot of the ballet, “The Spider’s Feast,” is at once gruesome and laboriously symbolic, but the music, kaleidoscopic in its fantastically delicate tone-coloring, has none of either quality. It is odd that it has been neglected on records. Ansermet’s wonderfully disciplined Swiss players handle it with a featherlike touch, and the London engineers likewise. The antiquestyled Petite Suite is less playful here than it might be, but still pleasant. Verdi: La Forza del Destino (Maria Callas, Richard Tucker, Elena Nicolai, Carlo Tagliabue, other soloists; Tullio Serafin conducting chorus and orchestra of Teatro alla Scala; Angel 3531-C/L: three 12" with libretto). Verdi was too oblivious of future fame; otherwise he would not have devoted so much of such magnificent music to a dramatic theme so infuriatingly preposterous. The music really is overwhelming, the characters and their motives impossible to take. However, listening subdues this tragic paradox, and listening to this rendition will subvert anyone’s common sense. The recording has a studio sound; but even in a studio, Miss Callas working over these arias is something to hear. Truly thrilling moments.
Verdi: Un Ballo in Maschera (two versions; Arturo Toscanini conducting Herva Nelli, Jan Peerce, Robert Merrill, Nicola Moscona, other soloists; Robert Shaw Chorale; NBC Symphony Orchestra; RCA Victor LM-(6112: three 12" — Angelo Questa conducting Maria Curtis Verna, Pia Tassinari; Ferruccio Tagliavini, Giuseppe Valdengo, other soloists; Chorus and Orchestra of Radiotelevisione Italiana; Cetra B-1249: two 12”). If Verdi had set this - opera in any place except colonial Boston, the text might make sense, and the music is stunningly effective. So forget Boston. The trouble with these two sets is that the singers, to my ears, are all very good throughout, and the recordings likewise comparable— both derived from excellent radio performances. Toscanini is superb, but Questa is also completely satisfactory — and the RCA Victor set has three disks against Cetra’s two. I’m afraid I’d take the Cetra.
An Evening with Alistair Cooke (Alistair Cooke, talking, singing, playing the piano; Columbia ML4970: 12”). Mr. Cooke, who covers America for the Manchester Guardian, is a man of many parts and shows it here. He harmonizes with himself (fourfold, through tape trickery) singing Gilbert and Sullivan. He philosophizes about the blues and plays some (rather badly), He whistles. He even drew the picture of himself on the jacket. Much fun; highly recommended.
Fifty Years of Great Operatic Singing (68 arias and other operatic excerpts, covering the period 1900— 1950; RCA Victor LCT-6701: five 12”). This begins with Francesco Tamagno singing the beginning of Di Quella Pira from Otello, and ends with Jan Peerce singing Fra Paco a Me Ricovero from Lucia. The project seems to have been that of George Marek, Victor’s artist-and-repertoire director (a Puccini biographer), and the selection was entrusted to Irving Kolodin, the best man I can think of for the job. The old-master vaults of RCA Vidor and its European affiliates were put at his disposal. All he had to steer clear of was items previously transcribed on microgroove. Practically every opera star you’ve ever heard of and hoped to hear is represented. Kolodin — bless him for it —went a little off the beaten track to present some of them at their best, and yanked a few off the recital stage to give them operatic opportunity they never had — Dorothy Maynor, for instance. This album, with its opulent documentation and rich, red silk cover, is in a spot of honor on our shelves — and if Mr. Kolodin isn’t tired, there’s room for another right beside it. Special kudos should go to RCA Victor’s musical engineer, Chuck Gerhardt, for some cleaned-up, brightened-up transcription that is almost incredible.
Out of This World (Various natural phenomena; sundry scientists; Emory Cook; Cook/Sounds of Our Times 5012). Now Mr. Cook has discovered that some seismographic recording of earthquakes is done today on magnetic tape, instead of with tracing-pen and paper roller. So he has taken such tapes, speeded them up, and translated them into sound. It’s undeniably awesome. At one point the tape is slowed to nearly normal speed; the sound vanishes, but the phono-arm goes through the motion of the quake. (Cute?) On the reverse, electrical disturbances of the superstratospheric atmosphere are recorded. It’s pretty incomprehensible, but you’ll not stop listening.
Rosa Ponselle Sings Today (Rosa Ponselle, soprano; Igor Chicagov, piano; RCA Victor LM-1889: 12”). In 1937, at the height of her career, Rosa Ponselle quit opera and went to live near Baltimore with a myriad of pets. Apparently she just didn’t like the stage, for she is still, by all reports, a very lively lady, and her voice, this record shows, remains extraordinarily beautiful and moving. Here she sings songs, no opera (maybe it was opera she didn’t like), and all with a unique kind of prima donna flair.