Record Reviews

Bach: Mass in B Minor

Eugen Jochum conducting Lois Marshall, kim Borg, Peter Pears, other soloists; Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra and Chorus; Epic BSC-102 (stereo) and SC-6027: two records

This performance was slighted here when it came forth as a monophonic record some months ago; its sonic newness seemed not to offset the greater excitement of the elder Westminster version by Hermann Scherchen. Stereo does Jochum’s graceful deliberation much better justice. A shining breadth becomes apparent, the choirs set themselves apart, and the hall sings with the singers. Perhaps this is the most durable kind of performance, satisfied with reverence and beauty, seeking no meanings behind meanings. The recording, as has been implied, is trouble-free, a boon to the ears.

Boïto: Mefistofele

Tullio Serafin conducting Cesare Siepi, Renata Tebaldi, Mario Del Monaco, other singers; Orchestra and Chorus of the Saint Cecilia Academy, London OSA1307 (stereo) and A-4339: three records

Arrigo Boïto, poet-musician, librettist to Verdi, and sometime lover of Eleanora Duse, managed to finish only one opera in his seventy-six years, Mefistofele, and he got it published before he was thirty. It irked the first-night audience in Milan, who followed their tiresome tradition and tore up the theater. They probably had a point, though. This, as a show, must be impossible to stage: at one juncture Faust is supposed to ride through the air on Mephistopheles’ cloaktail. On records this is no problem, so on records, for my taste, Boïto’s becomes by far the most interesting of all Faust operas. It shows the influences of Beethoven, Verdi, and probably Wagner and Berlioz, but remains Boïto. There is fine grandeur in the famous prologue (set in heaven), but also, throughout, there is a nice high-colored cynicism. The Devil is far and away the most attractive character in the action, especially when he is sung by Cesare Siepi. Tebaldi has one good aria and Del Monaco several. The Roman hall sounds a little boomy, but this is not out of keeping with the music. Serafin keeps things moving in his usual knowing way.

Mozart: The Marriage of Figaro

Erich Leinsdorf conducting Giorgio Tozzi, Roberta Peters, Lisa della Casa, George London, Rosalind Elias, other singers; Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra and State Opera chorus; RCA Victor LSC-6408 (stereo) and LM-6408: four records

We have an embarrassment of riches. In many opinions, including mine, the Marriage is the most nearly perfect of all operas; it has everything. And now it has on records, including stereo, two of the most compelling operatic performances ever perpetuated. These are by the late Erich Kleiber, for London, and by Leinsdorf, now, for RCA Victor. It is impossible to choose between them. Kleiber’s was a very early stereo recording, but a marvelous one. He has a flowing line in his continuity that Leinsdorf cannot yet match. But even the inspired easiness Kleiber’s singers show cannot make them as good as Leinsdorf’s, who are all young and healthy and respondent to his tautness. Probably if I were forced, I would choose the Kleiber, for its orchestral parts, but anyone could live happily ever after with either of these recordings. Both are treasures.

Strauss: Also Sprach Zarathustra

Herbert von Karajan conducting Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra; Willi Boskovsky, solo violin; London CS-6129 (stereo)

I do not care as much as I once did for Strauss’s immensely scored Zoroaster-Nietzsche oratory, but no one can deny that it makes a wonderful exercise in high fidelity, from the organ snore at the start to the great gonging at the end. I attended the sessions when this version was made by John Culshaw’s demonic London engineers. They rented a 2500-pound church bell from a Vienna foundry for the penultimate passage. They also had to hire five men to play it: one to hit it with a sledge, four (in white coats, like hospital orderlies) to leap in and hug it, so it would stop vibrating. The orchestra could not help laughing whenever this happened, but they were able to muffle their mirth with handkerchiefs, so naught went amiss. Karajan, a sound enthusiast himself, got more and more exultant as the taping progressed, and you will see why when, and if, you hear the record. This is about the most tintinnabulation that modern science can give to the listener for five dollars.

Tchaikovsky: The Nutcracker

Robert Irving conducting New York City Ballet Orchestra and Choir of the Little Church Around the Corner; Kapp 5007-S (stereo) and 5007: two records

Being no balletomane, I made my first acquaintance with Robert Irving by way of a record, RCA Bluebird’s Boutique Fantasque, now, alas, gone. As it seemed to me then, it seems to me now that he is the best conductor of ballet music in the world. Apparently the Sadler’s Wells and New York City Ballet companies share this approval, and now Kapp Records is spreading the benefit. I wish they had got a real musket to shoot, as Mercury did back in 1956 for their complete Nutcracker, when the mice and the toys go to war, but music is more important than muskets. Irving’s music has a wonderful lifting lilt to it; you almost want to dance yourself. The sound gets scratchy in the inner grooves but, once more, the music makes you forget the flaws. I don’t know of anybody else who can put the feeling of dance so well onto records. The youngsters from the Church of the Transfiguration are a delight.

Whitman: Selections from Leaves of Grass

Ed Begley, reader; Caedmon 1037

Ten poems figure here, including one big one: Out of the Cradle Endlessly Rocking. Caedmon has made this mature and retrospective, which is probably right. The veteran actor, Begley, a star since he played in Patterns for TV and Hollywood, makes the reading virile and tragic: the hissing sea urges “Death!” but he and we are not quite persuaded. Yet we still know the yearning of the boy Whitman, on the beach, suffering a loss of love in share with a bereft brown shore bird from Alabama.