Bergund Conducts the Popular Sibelius

Today, a stirring and vividly recorded program of popular works by Jean Sibelius, in 1972 performances by the Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra under the Finnish conductor Paavo Berglund.

Berglund (1929-2012) was devoted to Sibelius' music, having recorded three cycles of the symphonies during his long career.

Paavo Berglund

Today's recordings were made before his first set of the symphonies, also with the Bournemouth orchestra. Berglund would go on to sets with the Helsinki Philharmonic in the 1980s and the Chamber Orchestra of Europe the following decade.

These particular recordings were first issued in UK Columbia's Studio Two series, which was a rival to UK Decca's better-known Phase 4 releases. They both aimed for big, bold sound with the microphones close to the instrumental choirs. The benefit was clarity; the downside a lack of depth in the soundstage.

Larger-than-life sound surely works well with such pieces as Sibelius' patriotic Finlandia, with its heraldic brass. To me, it also suits the composer's famed Swan of Tuonela, with its important part for the English horn. However, Robert Layton in The Gramophone disagrees: "I think the close balance does not help in The Swan of Tuonela particularly the very opening entry of the lower strings. The upper strings sound too meagre when subjected to so close a scrutiny. This may well serve to rob the opening of some of its magic for I did miss here the feeling of poetic intensity The Swan calls for."

Jean Sibelius circa 1899, when Finlandia was first performed

Layton, an authority on Scandinavian music, was impressed by the disc, however: "The performance of Finlandia has plenty of rumbustiousness and fire, and the Bournemouth orchestra play with evident enthusiasm, as indeed they do in Lemminkäinen's Return. This had really splendid dash and attack and ... is really one of the most vivid and spirited versions of it we have had on LP for a very long time. 

"The three movements from the King Christian Suite are all given unfussy, straightforward readings that can be strongly recommended even though the recording balances the wind too closely for my taste in the 'Musette'."

I transferred this disc on request because it is encoded in SQ quadrophonic form, a four-channel format that had a brief vogue in the 1970s. (Discs such as these were stereo compatible.) This pressing is on the German Electrola label.

LINK

Ad in The Gramophone; I don't think the photo pertains to Sibelius

Romances and Serenades from Cleveland

My last post from the Clevelanders and conductor Louis Lane elicited a plea from long-time blog follower Douglas (coppinsuk), who wanted to hear the companion LP Romances and Serenades from the same source.

I warned Douglas that my copy is in mono, but that was fine with him, and I hope with you. (The sound is excellent, regardless.)

The previous LP was called Rhapsody, and included the Liszt Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2 and such. This program has nothing so beefy. In keeping with its title, the works are generally much lighter.

Louis Lane

The longest work is Vaughan Williams' The Lark Ascending. Britain's Classic FM says it is the nation's favorite classical work - and has been for 11 years.

The retailer Presto Music lists 168 releases of the piece, although presumably with some duplicates. So imagine a world where there was only one recording available - the 1952 effort by Jean Pougnet with Sir Adrian Boult and the London Philharmonic. That was the situation when this performance by Cleveland concertmaster Rafael Druian and the Cleveland Sinfonietta came on the market.

Rafael Druian

The reviewers uniformly praised the performance. Edward Greenfield in The Gramophone wrote, "I have a feeling that the very 'authenticity' of many English performances ... lies more than anything in their very tentativeness musically." He added, "Give me polish and confidence like this ... when it is allied with such warm, genuine emotions."

It's not just Druian who is outstanding here - there are notably assured contributions from the solo clarinet and horn. The cover notes say that the Sinfonietta is composed of "21 first-chair and supporting players from the internationally famous Cleveland Orchestra." This suggests that the musicians may be principal clarinet Robert Marcellus and principal horn Myron Bloom, but we can't be sure.

Druian also is featured in Delius' Serenade from Hassan, along with the orchestra's second harpist, Martha Dalton (who is identified on the label). Greenfield claims the overall performance is "soupy". This is the least successful item on the disc, but also its shortest.

Another English piece is contributed by Peter Warlock, his Serenade for Strings, sometimes called the Serenade for Frederick Delius on His 60th Birthday. Warlock wrote the piece in Delius' style. You can hear Constant Lambert's 1937 and 1941 recordings of the Warlock and Delius compositions via this post.

Much darker hued is the Sibelius Romance in C major of 1903. Greenfield says it emerges from this performance as "something more than an occasional piece."

The lightest work on the program is probably Jean Françaix's Serenade for Small Orchestra, a delightful piece that critics like to call "cheeky," and so it is. This is an accomplished performance, equal to the two previous recordings featured on this blog - a 1939 version from Hamburg under Eugen Jochum, and a 1968 reading from the Chamber Orchestra of Philadelphia and Anshel Brusilow.

I mentioned that this record has fine sound - although I should note that it was bright enough to loosen your fillings until I adjusted the usual 1960s Columbia (and Epic) glare.

More Sibelius from Stockholm and Ehrling

This third disc of Sibelius symphonies from Stockholm and conductor Sixten Ehrling provides the best yet performances and recordings from that source. The previous entries had been characterized by cogent interpretations, but also muzzy sound and wildly wayward pitching.

I was able to (eventually) overcome those issues with the previous set, and today I think (hope?) that I am on target with my transfer - aided by a new and more well-behaved turntable than I have utilized in the past. More on that transition later.

The previous symphonies from Ehrling were recorded in 1952. These two are from the next year, so perhaps the engineers were getting more accustomed to working in the auditorium of the Stockholm Music Academy. The problem with tape speeds is not as severe as before - although the first movement of the Fifth Symphony was still a quarter-tone sharp.

These also are the best performances, to my ear, in the set, at least the ones I have heard. The Symphony No. 5 is famously dramatic, which is meat to the lion-maned virtuoso conductors of the world. Ehrling does not turn up the heat nearly as much as some, so the work's peroration is not as cataclysmic as it could be, or, arguably, should be.

The young Sixten Ehrling

That said, let's keep in mind that the Stockholm Orchestra only had about 70 members, so it could not provide the roof-raising splendor of such ensembles as the Berlin Philharmonic. Nor could the relatively small quarters of the Stockholm Academy accommodate such an approach.

The conductor, orchestra and hall are better suited to the more intimate and inward Symphony No. 6, discmate to the fifth. Here Ehrling's control works nicely and the piece comes off at least as well as others I have heard, not that I have made a study of the matter.

The contemporary critics (reviews are enclosed) were impressed by the disc and largely in sync with my comments above. Writing in High Fidelity, Paul Affelder noted that Ehrling's readings "are clear and forthright; everything is in its proper place. His smooth, even approach is well suited to the somewhat reticent Sixth. The first and particularly the last movement of the Fifth could stand a bit more tension and dramatic impact."

The critic of the New York Times added, "After a few hearings and mental readjustments ... the listener should fall completely in line with Ehrling's approach."

The Tale of the Turntable

There is no lack of turntables in my house. There are two in the den and several more in the basement. Years ago, I was an object of curiosity at work because I had one in my office. People used to bring other people by and say, "See, I told you he has a record player!"

Even so, it's been many years since I had the dubious pleasure of setting up a turntable, and there is nothing in modern life quite like it. You turn on a CD player and it plays. You push a button on your phone and Frank Sinatra springs to life (his voice, anyway).

But if you are addicted to old records, nothing will do other than a properly functioning turntable. And mine had become increasingly unreliable. A vintage (and remarkably heavy) Yamaha and a Technics modified to play 78s were both developing speed problems, presumably because the motors were wearing out.

So, after a long time dallying, I invested in a new machine, a Audio-Technica 1200 modified to accommodate 16-inch records (largely transcriptions from long ago). It will play all formats, and being direct drive, it comes up to speed immediately.

So far so good, but as you may know, turntables are the opposite of plug-and-play. More like scream-and-swear. You see, if you don't want to use the cartridge supplied with the machine, you have to take the headshell apart and replace its motive part. This entails removing the old cart and putting in the new one.

Sounds simple, but not for me! For one thing, the AT uses a universal type headshell, which neither the Yamaha nor the Technics did. This means that I had to disassemble one of the two Stanton cartridges I had installed on the other machines and install it on the new rig.

If you have never done this, it involves removing tiny screws and even tinier signal leads without breaking anything. I've been around long enough to have made every possible mistake while doing this, so I am very careful.

Me and my new rig

The disassembly of the old cart was relatively painless - but the new one was aggravating. I've encountered this before, but the AT cartridge was held in place by screws anchored by tiny round nuts. Trying to loosen those little devils was just the beginning of my troubles. At my advanced age, I don't see very well and my manual dexterity is approaching non-existent.

Putting the Stanton onto the new headshell was the real problem. My Stantons don't have little wings at the top for affixing to headshell screws and bolts. So I had to use an adapter. The problem is that these adapters extend the depth of the cartridge. So while I was able to attach one Stanton model to the headshell, it created a problem with the tone arm geometry. I had to take it apart and use the other model instead.

Why not just use the supplied cartridge, you might ask. It's because I have an array of styluses for the Stantons that won't fit on the AT. Stereo LPs use a different stylus width than monos. The old 78s use a much broader tip - and they differ in size depending on the age of the record (among other considerations).  

Once all this came together - and believe me, this is oversimplified - I had to check it out and see how it worked. It was fine except for two things. One, the stylus body I use for mono LPs bottomed on the record - again because of the tone arm geometry. Fortunately, I have a backup that doesn't have that problem.

Second, there was a dull 60hz hum in the left channel. Hum can be induced at several steps along the way - power wires too close to the sound wires, loose cable connections, etc. But the most likely source is at the cartridge head.

Not wanting to believe that I had to fiddle with the tiny cartridge wires again, I chose to eliminate the other potential culprits - the ground wire, the cable orientation and so on. None of them worked. So I took apart and reseated the cartridge wires. The hum is still there, but it's of a level that I can filter easily.

Despite this long tale of fumbling and frustration, I am very pleased with the turntable! I hope you enjoy this first attempt at putting it to use.

I don't usually go into the details of my methods - you are here to listen to and perhaps read about old records. But my great pal Ernie thought some of you might be interested in what goes on behind the scenes. 

Three Sibelius Symphonies from Stockholm and Sixten Ehrling

Sixten Ehrling

The first recorded cycle of Jan Sibelius' symphonies did not emanate from an internationally acclaimed orchestra, famous conductor or leading label. It was a product of a small record company, the Stockholm orchestra and a young Swedish conductor, 33-year-old Sixten Ehrling.

The orchestra, the Metronome record label and Ehrling began recording the symphonies in January 1952, shortly before they embarked on their famous collaboration on the Violin Concerto with Camilla Wicks. At the time of the concerto sessions in mid-February, Symphonies 1, 3 and 7 had already been taped. Those three symphonies are the basis of today's post.

Symphonies No. 3 and 7

Sibelius himself was still alive when the recordings were made, and it is said that Ehrling met the composer during the session and shared cigars. In a way, the composer and conductor were well matched. It could be said that Sibelius' icy symphonies and Ehrling's famously cold personality suited one another.

But that is too simplistic. The symphonies are in no way monolithic, nor even that icy. Just taking the three symphonies on view here, the third is much different from the romantic first, and both are distinct from the seventh.

Ehrling's readings are intense. The Stockholm orchestra was not at the time a virtuoso ensemble, and only numbered 70-some members. But its musicians follow Ehrling's tempos faultlessly. 

The seventh symphony is notable in being in one movement, with constantly changing tempos and motives. Although it's s striking piece, the danger is that it will come off as shapeless. Ehrling skirts that by never letting the tension slacken.

The Stockholm players do well, although the tuning in the brass is not always exact, nor is there much depth of string tone.

Symphony No. 1

Interestingly, Ehrling does not seem as tense in the first symphony. His tempi in the first movement are moderate although never slack. Similarly, the "Andantino (ma non troppo lento)" second movement is taken at a leisurely pace. On the other hand, the Allegro third movement is suitably quick. And while Ehrling is a cool conductor, he does suggest the emotion underlying the finale. The ending is eloquent without being impassioned.

The critics were generally kind to Ehrling and the orchestra. The first symphony for some reason did not elicit any American reviews, but the coupling of the third and seventh found favor. James Lyons of the American Record Guide said the third was superior to the early recording led by Sibelius' associate Robert Kajanus. The seventh, Lyons opined, "unfolds less smoothly than some and less dramatically than others and still its muscle and lean are as taut as Finnish timber." (Mixed metaphor there, but you get the idea. Critics are apt to cite northern forests when discussing Sibelius. Artists too - check the two covers above.)

The auditorium of the Academy of Music

The reviewers generally praised the sound on these discs, although it is not without fault. As with the other Sibelius recordings from this source, the pitch tends to wander notably, which I have adjusted here (as well as in the earlier post). The sound is good, although not ideally clear. This may be an artifact of the recording method, which involved taping in the relatively compact auditorium of the Royal Academy of Music, then adding room reverberation later on. That was not an unprecedented technique; Columbia used it during this period as well, but because it adds a generation onto the master, it can blunt the impact of the recording and may have contributed to the pitch drift. Even so, the resulting sound here is pleasing. The third and seventh LP is from my collection; the first comes from a lossless transfer on Internet Archive, refurbished for this post.

One further note about the production: although the previous Sibelius issues heard here came out on Capitol in the US, the symphonies were issued by Mercury. In all cases, the recordings were handled by Metronome.

The fifth and sixth symphonies from this cycle are coming up.

Jean Sibelius, in a typically forbidding pose

Sibelius from Camilla Wicks and Sixten Ehrling

Camilla Wicks and Sixten Ehrling

One of the most famous LPs of the Sibelius Violin Concerto featured a young American soloist who was to make very few recordings, Camilla Wicks (1928-2020). Leading the orchestra in that 1952 Stockholm performance was a young conductor, Sixten Ehrling (1918-2005), who was at the time engaged in recording a cycle of Sibelius symphonies for the same company, Sweden's Metronome Records.

Today's post presents the concerto recording, adding Ehrling's contemporaneous account of Sibelius' Lemminkäinen Suite. A future post will look at some of the conductor's Sibelius symphonies.

Violin Concerto in D minor, op. 47

Camilla Wicks was just 23 when she made this recording, but already was a veteran of the concert stage. Although she was born in California, her father was Norwegian and had changed his name from Varhaugvik to Wicks upon emigrating to the US. Through her tours, Camilla had become particularly popular in Scandinavia, and her interpretation of the Sibelius concerto had reputedly won the approval of the composer himself.

Camilla Wicks

Ehrling, a native of Malmö, had made his public debut as a conductor only a few years before this recording, with the same Stockholm Philharmonic that appears on these records under its broadcasting name, the Stockholm Radio Symphony.

The American Record Guide's Peter Hugh Reed wrote of the recording, "[Wicks'] technical assurance and vibrant tonal quality are backed by musical intelligence and emotion that never degenerates into sentiment ... Mr. Ehrling's conducting has the necessary urgency to an essentially rhapsodic opus; he does not miss the excitement nor the romantic beauties."

The Swedish Metronome company was a small operation, and most of the copies of the LP can be found on Capitol, which licensed the concerto for the US market. The Metronome pressings are highly sought after by collectors; several copies have traded in the $2,000 range. The Capitols are not nearly as pricey, but still can trade for hundreds of dollars. Even so, it's not an especially rare item; I have two copies of it myself.

My two Capitol pressings are from different issues - the first issue (P8175, cover above) and the second issue (P8327), which differed in that it had a green cover (shown at right) and in addition to the concerto included the two best known pieces from Sibelius' Lemminkäinen Suite - the "Swan of Tuonela" and the "Return of Lemminkäinen," also conducted by Ehrling.

These two pieces came from Metronome/Capitol's complete recording of the Suite (which Capitol called the Legends of Lemminkäinen, and which is also called the Four Legends from the Kalevala). The Suite is the second major part of today's post, but first we have a few encores from Camilla Wicks

Two Heifetz Transcriptions

The Sibelius concerto was not Wicks' first recording. The Swedish label Cupol had engaged her to perform a series of short works back in 1948, when she was 19. Today's encores are two of those recordings, both transcriptions by Jascha Heifetz. The first is a Serenade from Borodin's Petite Suite, which would become popular in a few years as "Night of My Nights" in the musical Kismet.

The second encore is another familiar work, Manuel Ponce's "Estrellita," originally a song.

As with the Sibelius, Wicks' performances are faultless. Her accompanist is Kåre Siem.

On YouTube, Wicks can be seen in a vintage performance of Fartein Valen's Violin Concerto and in a film set in Romsdal, Norway, which has an appearance by the violinist (and her mother, pianist Ruby Wicks) in a Grieg Sonata at about 9:20. In later life, Camilla became a much respected violin teacher. She passed away not long ago, in late 2020.

Lemminkäinen Suite, Op. 22

Ehrling recorded the Lemminkäinen Suite with the Stockholm orchestra in December 1953, following his traversal of the seven symphonies. In that year, he had become the music director of the Royal Swedish Opera, where he was to stay until 1960. At that time he was eased out of the post after being reprimanded for what was called his "robust leadership style."

Ehrling then moved to the US and became the Detroit Symphony's music director in 1963, and a frequent guest conductor elsewhere. He died in 2005.

Sixten Ehrling

In the reviews, Ehrling's recording had the misfortune of being compared to the relatively new Ormandy-Philadelphia disc of the Suite. The American Record Guide said of the Stockholm set, "Handsome performances in the authentic tradition, not quite as virtuosic as the ones from Philadelphia but beautifully shaped just the same."

All these recordings were made in the Royal Swedish Academy of Music. The sound is fairly good for the period. The transfers of the concerto and two of the Lemminkäinen legends come from my collection. The remaining legends and the encores are remastered from lossless originals found on Internet Archive.

Ormandy Conducts Romantic Favorites

For one of the greatest conductors of the 20th century, it's amazing how many of Eugene Ormandy's mono recordings have not been re-released, at least as far as I have been able to determine. Today's post includes several of those elusive items, all dating from near mid-20th century.

The program encompasses two 10-inch LPs and an EP, all on Columbia Records.

 

Sibelius and Rachmaninoff

 

The first LP couples Sibelius' "Finlandia" and "The Swan of Tuonela" with Lucien Cailliet's effective orchestrations of three Rachmaninoff piano preludes, including the composer's greatest hit, the Prelude in C-sharp minor (Bum - bum - BUMM. Da - da - da. Bum - bum - BUMM).

 

John Minsker

The Rachmaninoff works are in turns grandiloquent (the C-sharp minor), tranquil (the G major) and dramatic (the G minor). Cailliet had been a Philadelphia clarinetist who wrote arrangements both for Leopold Stokowski and Ormandy. 

 

Sibelius' "Finlandia" was a favorite of Ormandy, who recorded it six times, twice with chorus. The "Swan of Tuonela" is beautifully done here, with an eloquent and elegant English horn solo by the eminent John Minsker.

 

Suppé and Weber

The second 10-inch LP couples Franz von Suppé's famous and much abused overture to the operetta Poet and Peasant with the overture to Carl Maria von Weber's opera Der Freischütz.

 

The Poet and Peasant is just fine, but I will take issue with the performance of the Freischütz overture, a favorite of mine, which barely hints at the dramatic or supernatural elements of the opera.

 

The Weber overture is the earliest recording among all these items, dating from January 1946 and first issued on 78. The Suppé work comes from a April 1950 session. It too was issued first on 78, then about a year later with the Weber as one of the first issues in Columbia's 10-inch AL series. These early AL discs contained barely more music than the 7-inch EPs that soon would gain favor. The first AL releases all were contained in generic covers with the fussy design shown above. The download includes an article on the series.

 

Strauss and Tchaikovsky

 

On the EP, we have the Waltz Suite from Richard Strauss' opera Der Rosenkavalier, coupled with another famous waltz, drawn from Tchaikovsky's Serenade for Strings. These works are all in Ormandy's wheelhouse. He and the superb Philadelphians do well by them. The EP has a bonus of a wonderful Jim Flora cover depicting the "Presentation of the Rose" from Rosenkavalier. The knight does appear to be sniffing the flower, rather than presenting it to the bored Sophie. (You will need to click on the image to see what I am talking about.)

Ormandy recorded music from Der Rosenkavalier seven times; he chose this waltz suite three times, once with the Minneapolis Symphony in 1935, then with the Philadelphia ensemble in 1941 and 1952. This is the latter version.

 

The Rosenkavalier waltzes also came out on an all-Strauss 12-inch LP a few years later, coupled with Don Juan, Till Eulenspiegel and the Love Scene from Feuersnot. Missing no formats or coupling alternatives, Columbia at one time packaged the Rosenkavalier and Eulenspiegel recordings on a 10-inch disc. It featured Jim Flora artwork that was apparently designed as a companion to the EP cover shown above. I don't have the Strauss LP, but I did scrounge up the cover, which you can see at right. It shows Till Eulenspiegel engaged in his "merry pranks," which seem to be taking place at Watts Towers.

 

The Tchaikovsky waltz is extracted from one of Ormandy's complete recordings of the Serenade, which come from 1946, 1952 and 1960. Discographer Michael Gray claims that the 1952 version remains unissued, so this is apparently the 1946 edition.

The complete Serenade for Strings was coupled on an early Columbia LP with John Barbirolli's New York recording of the Theme and Variations from Tchaikovsky's Suite No. 3. 

 

Bonus Item on Buster's Swinging Singles

 

Full disclosure - the Strauss-Tchaikovsky EP is a new transfer of a disc I featured on my other blog many years ago. But there also is something new on that blog to go along with this post - the 1946 Ormandy/Philadelphia recording of Glinka's Ruslan and Ludmila Overture. I've contrasted it with a competing version from the Boston Pops and Arthur Fiedler, dating from 1939 - which I prefer, but make your own decision!