Digging up the Ancients

Posted by: Todd A on 07 September 2001

Over the past several months I have taken to buying so-called “historical” recordings more frequently, particularly in core orchestral repertoire. I don’t really have to stretch to explain why: I just prefer the more individual, idiosyncratic, and – undoubtedly related – more idiomatic performances many great conductors of yesteryear were able to muster from their bands. The downside is that these recordings are very old and the sound may not be the best. The fact that much of it is in mono does not really bother me that much. There are some extraordinarily fine sounding mono recordings out there, and when you couple better-than-acceptable sound with out-of-this-world interpretive magic, well you got a winner. So what are some of the highlights, you may or may not be wondering? Well, here goes.

Incidentally, I am not some sentimentally nostalgic fool. I know that plenty of slop was recorded in the past and that what I have the good fortune to hear is generally the best of what came before. That’s not to say some slop does not make it through the historical sifter, but, in general, posterity tends to recognize quality over trash.

The list:

Mahler’s Ninth conducted by Bruno Walter. The 1938 performance. The Dutton transfer. Perfection.

Brahms Symphonies with Arturo Toscanini conducting the Philharmonia from 1952 on Testament. These are The Maestro’s last recordings with a band from that lovely little island. These were actually concerts, to top it off. The performances are forceful and intriguing, if not always the best available. The First Symphony offers an interesting situation. Overall, I prefer Furtwangler’s recordings on EMI, the first movement especially. (Has there ever been and can there ever again be such a sweepingly grand opening?) But when the finale comes, Toscanini actually has a little bit of an edge. Overall, very, very, very satisfying. The Second and Third are excellent as well, the Third coming off as one of the better recordings available, but here, I believe, one must cede to Bruno Walter. And then the Fourth. The more I listen to Brahms’ symphonies, the more I am inclined to think that this, not the First, may be the best of the lot. I’m not there yet, but I’m close. Anyway, Furtwangler again takes the cake, but Toscanini’s version is brilliant. The accompanying Tragic Overture and Haydn Variations make for some great filler. The sound’s pretty good, too.

Dinu Lipatti’s “lost” concerto recordings on EMI. This was released in March and I only got around to it a couple months ago, or so. Sad to say, this does not live up to his Great Pianists set or his disc of Chopin’s waltzes. But then, those discs contain some truly transcendental art, so the result is this disc is outstanding. The works here are Bach’s keyboard concerto No 3 (arranged by Ferrucio Busoni), Liszt’s First, and Bartok’s Third. The conductors are van Beinum, Ansermet, and Sacher, respectively. The Bach makes the disc. The scoring is opaque and inappropriate, of course, but Lipatti’s playing is sooo good that one forgets that. He actually makes a convincing case for the work here. The Liszt sounds so terrible that it is very hard to hear the keyboard magic shine through. Fortunately, some does. Lipatti reveals himself to be a strong, appropriately virtuosic force and one can only hope that some miracle transfer can be made in the future. The Bartok as a recording of the work is a let down, but the pianism is not. I can hear why Paul Sacher only released the second movement in the past. His band simply is not up to the task, and Lipatti plays at such a high level in comparison that the work suffers. Alas, I must still turn to Schiff, Anda, Sandor, and Fischer (Hmmm, all Hungarians . ? . ?) for this one, but I’m glad I now have this version. (OK, alas is too strong a word.) All things considered, buy the disc.

I finally purchased Bruckner’s 8th conducted by Furtwangler. I bought the Music & Arts transfer of the March 15th, 1949 recording of the work. Yes, it is tremendous. I was a little let down, however. At least at first. The opening two movements were not forceful enough for me, the scherzo coming off a little less than intimidating. The Adagio and the Finale, however, are among the finest I have encountered. I suppose compared to the various versions of this potentially greatest of symphonies I have heard, this one does indeed rank near the top, it’s just after hearing Furtwangler conduct Beethoven and Brahms, my expectations were so high I wanted more. To make sure I can say that I have heard the best that Furtwangler could do, I will probably have to buy the March 14th, 1949 concert, and no doubt the war recording.

The DG Originals release of Wilhelm Kempff’s and Wolfgang Schneiderhan’s traversal of Beethoven’s complete violin sonatas finally hit the States a few months back, and I anxiously snapped it up. I had waited over a year since I first saw an ad for it in Gramophone, and I was so anxious I almost asked my dealer to do a special import. After hearing the recordings I almost slapped myself for not buying an import version. They are that good. Definitive? No, of course not. That cannot happen in Beethoven, but the playing is delightful. Kempff’s less-than-Weissenberg musical muscularity is a real asset, his playing delighting rather than overpowering. The sound of the piano is a little recessed and overshadowed by the violin, but it is truly remarkable to hear how Kempff sounded in the early ‘50s. And that violin playing! The sound is definitely dated but the playing is timeless. Every work is so well done that I cannot pick a favorite. I suppose the Kreutzer could be the best of the lot, but Opus 23, despite any protestations to the contrary, is something to marvel at, as are the Opus 12 works and the Opus 96. Well, they all are. A very high recommendation.

Still on Beethoven, I recently picked up the Budapest Quartet’s 1940s recordings of Ludwig’s middle quartets on Bridge. (One of the recordings is from 1960.) Bless the Library of Congress for recording these performances. They are all wonderful and worth hearing. In this repertoire, there is no point going over the relative merits. And the performances live up to the music. Dated sound, but playing unlike most contemporary ensembles. I snagged this baby at a Tower Records clearance for a pittance. Perhaps the deal of the year? Well, maybe not, but worth more than full price, that’s certain.

Now some Prokofiev. I picked up the budget disc of Prokofiev himself playing his Third Piano Concerto in 1932 with Piero Coppola. The one time prodigy never lost his touch. His playing is quite something, and his interpretation is pronouncedly different from, say, Argerich or Krainev, to name two more recent players. (Krainev is my personal favorite current interpreter.) His playing is less forceful and more conversational with the orchestra. Now some of the impression no doubt comes from how the recording was balanced (less piano-centric than modern recordings), but there is an ease in the playing and with the orchestra that is lacking. Exceptional. And the accompanying work? Prokofiev’s Fifth Symphony conducted by Koussevitsky. Yes, it’s that famous 1946 Boston Symphony recording. It’s among the greatest of this work. ‘Nuff said. (Incidentally, Naxos is releasing their own transfer of Prokofiev playing his Third this year. Now you have choice!)

Finally, I also picked up another Dutton transfer of Eduard van Beinum conducting Bartok’s Concerto for Orchestra and Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring. Both are very good performances, but much better can be had elsewhere. The Bartok just doesn’t sound Hungarian enough for my tastes, despite Beinum’s spot-on rendition of that ever so important fourth movement. The Stravinsky lacks the requisite fire to really spark my interest. The performance does have one of the most remarkable mono “soundstages” I have heard. There are a couple passages where the sound almost seems to be in stereo. Really. Astonishing stuff. Too bad the performance couldn’t keep me awake after a long day at work. I’ll keep the disc around as an historical document though, and I’ll no doubt give it another try.