Record Reviews

Bartók: Concerto for Orchestra Janácek: Sinfonietta

George Szell conducting Cleveland Orchestra; Columbia MS-6815 (stereo) and ML-6215

Few works are as worthy of the designation of modern classic as Bartok’s Concerto for Orchestra. Composed in 1943 on a commission from Serge Koussevitzky, it has since become a symphonic staple, a solidly constructed, richly colored, powerfully dramatic masterpiece. Although it has been recorded a dozen times, Szell’s new version approaches perfection more closely than any other. The various instrumental choirs perform with distinctive individuality, yet all are melded into a stunning whole; the overall effect is that of genius revealed rather than music played. Janáček’s brilliant Sirifonietta receives an exalted performance, too. Bravo, Szell!

Tchaikovsky: Piano Concerto No. 2 in G, Opus 44; Piano Concerto No. 3 in E-flat, Opus 75

Gary Graffman, pianist, with Philadelphia Orchestra conducted by Eugene Ormandy; Columbia MS-6755 (stereo) and ML-6155

How many piano concertos did Tchaikovsky compose? This record offers incontrovertible evidence that the correct answer is three, for it is devoted to Nos. 2 and 3, works that are practically never presented in the concert hall (although both have led a public existence of sorts in the form of two Balanchine ballets, Ballet Imperial and Allegro Brillante). Neither concerto has the spectacular qualities of the celebrated No. 1, with its crashing chords and lush melodies, but Gary Graffman does what he can to imbue them with sweep and grandeur. Probably he is laboring in a lost cause, for neither work approaches No. 1 in effectiveness, no matter how much skill and vigor the soloist offers — and Mr. Graffman offers plenty. There are, to be sure, melodic passages of considerable charm, and sections that call for bravura pianism, especially in No. 2, by far the stronger, and longer, of the two works on the record. But one listens with only passing interest; and the Concerto No. 1 in B-flat Minor remains the Tchaikovsky piano concerto.

Orff: Carmina Burana

Herbert Kegel conducting Radio Leipzig Chorus and Orchestra with Jutta Vulpius, soprano; Hans-Joachim Rotzsch, tenor; and Kurt Rehm and Kurt Huebenthal, baritones; Heliodor HS-25004 (stereo) and H-25004

Heliodor is a new label in the rapidly expanding low-priced-record field, with releases drawn from the Deutsche Grammophon and MGM classical catalogues. This Carmina Burana is its prize release so far, a lusty, gusty account of Carl Orff’s modern adaptation of some rather disreputable medieval songs and chants. Carmina Burana has lost some of its bloom and vigor since it first burst forth on records some fifteen years ago, but this stirring performance recaptures at least some of that original sense of novelty.

The Official Adventures of Batman and Robin

Jackson Beck, narrator, with Jack Curtis, Ron Liss, George Petrie, and others; Leo CH-1019 (monaural)

The household’s three youngest dwellers were called in for expert opinions on this production. Their unanimous verdict: “It’s pretty good, but television is better.” Three episodes are recorded: “The Legend of Batman and Robin,” “The Penguin’s Plunder,” and “The Joker’s Revenge.” Entertainment values aside (and the tales seem so preposterous as to be reasonably harmless), the record may someday have interest as a kind of social document, or at least footnote. One question, though: Why should the most cultivated accents invariably belong to the most villainous characters? Huh, Batman?

Arthur Miller: Death of a Salesman

Directed by Ulu Grosbard, with Lee J. Cobb as Willy Loman, Mildred Dunnock as Linda, Michael Tolan as Biff,Gene Williams as Happy, and others; Caedmon TRS-310 (stereo or monaural): three records

Arthur Miller’s Death of a Salesman, one of the most moving of modern plays, here receives a recording that preserves all its melancholy, compassion, and pervasive feeling of bitter truthfulness. Lee J. Cobb and Mildred Dunnock, repeating their stage roles of the aging salesman and his loyal wife, seem to find new levels of understanding in them; the result is a depiction of human decline and disappointment that is at once personal and universal. With its flashbacks and shifting scenes, Death of a Salesman is no easy play to record, but stereo is used resourcefully, and all the parts are played with verbal clarity as well as dramatic intensity. Mr. Miller himself contributes a spoken introduction, and a complete printed text is provided.

Wail a Minim!

A Musical Entertainment devised and directed by Leon Gluckman, with Andrew Tracey, Paul Tracey, Kendrew Lascelles, Michel Martel, Nigel Pegram, April Olrich, Dana Valery, and Sarah Atkinson; London AMS-88002 (stereo) and AM-58002

A “minim” is a British term for a half note, indicating (a) that this is a musical show and (b) that its nature is good-humored and irreverent. Actually, this is a South African production, utilizing native instruments, rhythms, and chants, and deriving its folk-song flavor from diverse races and nationalities. An exotic atmosphere is provided by such instruments as the mbira (an African hand piano) and the chikulu (a drum devised from an oil drum and other improvised accessories); but there also are such simple and familiar tunes as “ I Gave My Love a Cherry” and “Dirty Old Town.” One of the most agreeable numbers, “Sir Oswald Sodde,” is a satirical song about medieval chastity belts, set to a neatly archaic little tune. The all-white cast makes several sly references to South African racial policies, and there are one or two direct thrusts at apartheid, but political views are played down in favor of good-natured entertainment. Wait a Minim! has been a stage success in Johannesburg, London, and New York; this record helps explain its international appeal.