Record Reviews

When you read this, stereophonic discs will have come into the market in quantity and will be absorbing everyone’s interest. At the time of writing, however, duplicate delivery of stereo and monophonic had not begun; the records here reviewed are all monophonic. My experimental conclusion is that a record which is good in monophonic version is also very likely to be good in stereo, and vice versa. I shall deal with the records hereafter on that basis.

Bach: Concerto for Harpsichord, Flute, Violin, and Orchestra in A Minor; Concerto for Harpsichord and Orchestra in D Major

Rolf Reinhardt conducting Helma Elsner, harpsichord; Karl Mess, flute; Susanne Lautenbacher, violin; Pro Musica Orchestra, Stuttgart; Vox PL-10730: 12” The D Major Concerto is, as some will know, the Second Violin Concerto (in E Major) rearranged for keyboard. It is as likable in one guise as the other; more fluent with the fiddle, sturdier on the keyboard. Here it is given with fine plangent verve and solid rhythm; I think it may be my favorite version. The work on the overside would get the same unqualified endorsement were it not for the prettier (if less stalwart) job done by the Solisti di Zagreb for Vanguard. The choice between the two is harder than I care to make.

Cherubini: Medea

Tullio Serafin conducting Maria Meneghini Callas, Mirto Picchi, Renata Scotto, Giuseppe Modesti, other singers; orchestra and chorus of Teatro alla Scala; Mercury OL-3-104: three 12”

It is easy, when one starts listening to Medea, to understand why Cherubini should have been the opera composer Beethoven most admired. Its topic is huge and dramatic beyond the characters in its cast. Its atmosphere is terror: the witch will come, and her evil will prevail, no matter what valor and defiance are brought against it (this is the reverse or mirror image of Fidelio, of course, where from the first note we know Leonore will fell the tyrant Pizarro). In Medea the horror is victor, but Jason and Creon fight every step of the way, and the music abets each moment of suspense. This is the kind of opera which promotes squabbles on the sofa, where everyone is trying to read the libretto at once. Maria Callas is absolutely and unutterably horrible in her role, and I can think of no higher praise. Maestro Serafin keeps things shuddering along beautifully, and the rest of the performers do their work splendidly. Mercury’s excellent sound forwards the grue beyond complaint.

Mozart; Symphony No. 40; Eine Kleine Nachtmusik

William Steinberg conducting Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra; Capitol PAO-8432: 12”

There really have been enough G Minor Symphonies, or so one would think until hearing this one. Steinberg, one of our great modern conductors, had to be given his chance at this work, and he has not wasted it. I do not know quite how to compare his effort with those of Beecham and Walter, but it does stand the comparison. Steinberg’s version is, I think, the most melancholy, in some ways the subtlest. Its song is almost a sigh. It would not be my choice; I like the Beecham, but some want their Mozart all spirit and no body. By contrast, this Serenade is a little massive, by reason of a lot of strings and a rather big, empty hall.

Rossini: Le Comte Ory

Vittorio Gui conducting Juan Oncina, Sari Barabas, Ian Wallace, other singers; Glyndebourne Festival Chorus and Orchestra; Angel 3565-BL: two 12”

This is Rossini in French, which may seem a novelty, though he wrote more than once for the Paris public. The opera itself is more than a novelty, though. It seems to me a better work, all told, than the Barber or Cinderella, full of marvelous joviality and inimitable Rossinian songfulness. The plot is indescribable, replete with the inevitable transvestitism that seems to have convulsed all 1820 audiences infallibly, and with complication that passeth all understanding. Reluctantly I must say, however, that the performance is a trifle too well-bred to make the most of the music. It is, so to say, somewhat too Sunday-afternoon-at-Glyndebourne, with more than a little consciousness of cuteness. But there is high competence as well, and one cannot have everything always. The sound is just about adequate.

Stravinsky: Capriccio for Piano and Orchestra; Concerto for Two Solo Pianos

Alfred Brendel and Charlotte Zelka, pianos; Harold Byrns conducting Symphony Orchestra of the Southwest German Radio; Vox PL-10660: 12”

These works were written in 1928 and 1935, and both bring to us the Stravinsky who was a celebrated pianist. The Capriccio is almost jazzy (or at least as jazzy as Art Tatum ever was) and delicious in its playfulness. The Concerto is cleverer, less moving, but hypnotic in its ceaseless rhythmic glitter. Both works are so lithe and motile that they cannot tire the listener; he always craves the next note. These performances seem to me about as good as anyone could desire, and the sound is bright and solid.

Tchaikovsky: Concerto No. 1 in B Minor

Van Cliburn, piano; Kiril Kondrashin conducting Symphony of the Air; RCA Victor LM-2252: 12”

My wife has saved me, in this case, an ordeal of description. She had sat through much of the session that produced this record, and when we played the result at home, she said: “That still sounds to me like a crack train pulling into the station.” And that’s about it. These gentlemen, Messrs. Kondrashin and Cliburn, simply know that what they are doing they can do better than almost anyone else alive, and they pull into the station with a joyful blast of steam that will set your hair on end. Do not hesitate to go out and purchase this piece of flowing and roaring delight, no matter how many other people are doing likewise. There are tears in the slow movement as well as fireworks in the finale; there is mastery throughout; and there is a thoroughgoing love for the music, which deserves love. RCA Victor has contrived for the venture a silver sound altogether fitting.