Two Views of Berlioz: Norrington and Stokowski

Hector Berlioz

My friend Jean Thorel ("centuri"), himself an accomplished conductor, advocated Roger Norrington's recording of Berlioz's Symphonie fantastique as a follow-up to the recent post of Sir Roger's Beethoven Ninth Symphony. Great idea - here it is, with a contrasting companion.

Norrington's are historically informed performances. As the conductor himself wrote about the Symphonie fantastique, "The joys (and tribulations) of playing Berlioz 'historically' affect every aspect then: the score, the instruments, the style, even the layout of the stage." As such his recording was very unlike the ones that that had preceded it, which sometimes seem to take their cue from the work's lurid program, which involves an artist taking opium because of his unrequited love.

This sensational premise - and the scenes that involve a march to the scaffold and a witches' Sabbath - seem to invite or even require Romantic excess in performance. For this reason, I decided to couple Norrington's chaste version with one by the high priest of the Technicolor performance, Leopold Stokowski, leading a modern orchestra. It's quite a contrast.

But before we get to the performances, let's examine the notion that Berlioz himself was a wild-eyed Romantic - even considering the Symphonie fantastique program. First, consider that this symphony postdates Beethoven's Ninth by only six years - 1824 to 1830. Second, Berlioz himself was a famously skilled and fastidious composer and orchestrator. As Wilfrid Mellers has written, the symphony is "ostensibly autobiographical, yet fundamentally classical ... Far from being romantic rhapsodizing held together only by an outmoded literary commentary, the Symphonie fantastique is one of the most tautly disciplined works in early nineteenth-century music."

An 1846 caricature of Berlioz - no wonder he was considered a wild-eyed Romantic

So following the composer's instructions and using an orchestra he would have recognized should lead to revelatory results. And some reviewers found this to be the case following the release of Norrington's recording in 1989.

Stereo Review's Richard Freed wrote, "There's no need to debate whether Berlioz was actually the first great Romanticist or the last great Classicist. The point is that no one understood the orchestra and its instruments better than he did, and it was that profound understanding that enabled him to exploit orchestral color with such unprecedented imaginativeness. That, in brief, would seem to be the basis for Norrington's undertaking - an approach to Berlioz, as to Beethoven, on the composer's own terms - and it turns out to be productive beyond imagining, even more revelatory than his Beethoven performances...

"Before I got to the end I knew that this was the Fantastique that will be the 'basic' recording from now on, and the others will be the alternates."

But that was 35 years ago, and the sound of the modern symphony orchestra is still ascendant. The Norrington approach - while influential - remains the exception rather than the rule. Examine the many "best-of" articles on the Symphonie fantastique and you will find performances by any number of modern orchestras, with at most one "historically informed" reading, usually the one led by Sir John Eliot Gardiner.

Here are today's two recordings.

London Classical Players/Roger Norrington

Norrington and his orchestra recorded the Berlioz work in March 1988 at Abbey Road. As with the Beethoven disc recently heard here, the recorded sound was drab, which undercuts the delights of the composer's scoring as performed by instruments of his time. This is supposition, but perhaps the engineers recorded the orchestra similar to the way they would handle modern orchestras, which generally are much larger and louder than Norrington's forces. I have adjusted the balance accordingly.

Even so, the performance was much appreciated. Here's John Warrack in The Gramophone: "Prepared, and recorded, with the greatest attention to detail, it is a performance of imaginative sweep and excitement, and a record by which future performance of the work will have to be measured."

This transfer comes from a sealed copy of the original vinyl release. The LP had no notes whatsoever, so I have included a PDF of the CD booklet, which includes essays by Norrington and Berlioz expert Hugh Macdonald.

Sir Roger Norrington

LINK to Norrington performance

New Philharmonia Orchestra/Leopold Stokowski

The Symphonie fantastique and its queasy program - which Berlioz later downplayed - would seem to have been made for Leopold Stokowski, one of the most extroverted of 20th century maestros. But somehow he did not record the work until 1968, when he was 83. Decca London provided a multi-miked Phase 4 Stereo production for the occasion.

The results are predictable. Where the harps in the "Un bal" movement sound discreet if delightful for Norrington, for Stoki the single harp is as loud than the rest of the orchestra. Conversely, the orchestral sound at times is quite recessed in a reverberant space (Kingsway Hall), but then a solo flute will suddenly jump to the foreground.

As for the conductor, he is on his best behavior for much of the symphony - unlike a live performance from about the same time that was later released. Harris Goldsmith wrote in High Fidelity: "For the first three movements, Stokowski is really quite restrained. The string tone is, of course, gorgeous and while the playing is always imaginative and full of refined sheen, the tempos and phrasings are not terribly removed from the mainstream of traditional interpretation... In the 'Marche au supplice,' though, Stokowski does adopt a too precipitate approach - one would almost think that the hero in question was attempting to flee justice rather than offering himself as a willing victim to the scaffold... When we arrive at the 'Witches' Sabbath,' however, the conductor really starts substituting LSD for Berlioz' opium." To sum up, Stoki sounds uninvolved until he gets to the juicy parts.

Despite his observations, Goldsmith was positive: "Not my favorite Fantastique perhaps (I prefer the Davis version on Philips), but an attractive and stimulating one, nonetheless."

I'll leave it to you to decide which one is better - Stokowski or Norrington.

Leopold Stokowski

LINK to Stokowski performance

RCA Victor's 'The Ballet'

In the early LP years, RCA Victor was blessed by a remarkable roster of conducting talent: Arturo Toscanini, Leopold Stokowski, Charles Munch, and Pierre Monteux - and the inimitable Arthur Fiedler of Pops fame as well.

So the label could call upon all of them when it came time to assemble a prestige product such as the one before us today - 1954's The Ballet, a three-record set with those conducing eminences presenting popular ballet suites, in recordings dating from 1949-53.

Not that Victor made use of the conductors in its marketing. They aren't noted on the cover (nor are the works or composers) and they only warrant a paragraph each at the end of the elaborate 16-page booklet (included in the download).

No, this package would seem to have been aimed at the listener who wanted to learn more about the ballet. It includes a overview of the art form and notes on the works themselves by Robert Lawrence, and evocative photos by George Platt Lynes, a famed commercial photographer.

But what of the works and the performances? Let's run them down.

Meyerbeer - Les Patineurs (excerpts)

Anya Linden and Desmond Doyle in Les Patineurs
(Covent Garden 1956)

Fiedler and the Boston Pops present four excerpts from the ballet score that Constant Lambert assembled from melodies found in Meyerbeer's operas Le Prophète and L'Etoile du Nord, principally the former. As I noted when I presented the John Hollingsworth/Sadler's Wells performance a year or two ago, "Although seldom heard today, Meyerbeer's works were very popular in the 19th century, and this immensely tuneful and pleasing score shows why."

This performance, I am told, has not been reissued. It originally came out as a companion piece to Fiedler's Gaîté Parisienne recording, which was later reissued in stereo with a different disc mate. The 1953 Les Patineurs was mono-only so was left on the shelf.

Piston - The Incredible Flutist (suite)

The most popular work by the American composer Walter Piston is also his only ballet score, The Incredible Flutist. The work was written for and premiered by the Boston Pops and Fiedler, and then a suite recorded by them in 1939. That recording was posted on this blog a few years ago. This set includes the Fiedler remake of 1953, with James Pappoutsakis as the flute soloist.

Arthur Fiedler and Walter Piston

As I wrote in connection with the first recording, The Incredible Flutist "is an entirely delightful piece of music that must have made for an effective ballet. Piston wrote the scenario with choreographer Hans Wiener, who also took the role of the flutist. The setting is a marketplace; a circus comes to town with its main attraction - the magical flutist."

This recording is apparently another mono orphan. It was originally coupled with the Ibert Divertissement and the Rossini-Respighi La Boutique Fantasque, which were later reissued in stereo.

Stravinsky - The Firebird (1919 Suite)

Maria Tallchief and Francisco Moncion in The Firebird

Stravinsky's The Firebird is another score that is heard far more often in the concert hall than as a ballet. Here we have Leopold Stokowski's 1950 recording of a suite with a New York pickup orchestra. The American Record Guide thought highly of the performance, even though the review began with a back-handed compliment: "Stokowski seems less wayward in his latest performance of this work, and he does not make the cut he made in his other versions . . I cannot say when I have heard this music played more beautifully; every detail, every nuance is brought out."

Leopold Stokowski

The ballet was written for Diaghilev in 1910 and originally choreographed by Michel Fokine. I believe the photo at top of this section is from a George Balanchine production. Stokowski conducts the 1919 suite, the most popular of the three devised by the composer.

Ravel - Daphnis et Chloé (Suite No. 2)

Michel Fokine and Vera Fokina in Daphnis et Chloé

Maurice Ravel wrote Daphnis et Chloé both as a concert work and as a ballet score, calling it a "symphonie choreographique." It dates from 1912 and again was originally choreographed by Michel Fokine. The Ballet set contains the Suite No. 2, the most frequently heard incarnation of the music.

Leading the 1949 performance was Arturo Toscanini, with his NBC Symphony. He was the most famous living conductor when these records were made; even so, he is not the first name that comes to mind when thinking about Ravel's music.

Writing in the Saturday Review, Roland Gelatt explained why: "I must confess to being impressed but unmoved by his 'Daphnis.' Taken measure by measure the recording is replete with wonders. There are magnificent examples of blending woodwind and strings, and the climax in the 'Daybreak' movement is a marvel of orchestral transparency. But gambits like these do not solve the secrets of Ravel's sybaritic score. Note-perfect though it may be, I cannot believe that this rigid and unyielding reading does full justice to the composer’s intentions."

Arturo Toscanini

Weber-Berlioz - Invitation to the Dance

Vaslav Nijinsky and Tamara Karsavina in Le Spectre de la rose

Carl Maria von Weber wrote Invitation to the Dance as a piano piece. Hector Berlioz orchestrated it as a ballet for a production of Weber's Der Freischütz in Paris, where interpolated ballets were de rigueur in opera productions. The orchestration was popular, and in 1911 Michel Fokine used it for his ballet La Spectre de la rose. (The photo of Nijinsky and Karsavina above is from the original production.)

The performance here is again by Toscanini and the NBC Symphony from 1951. It is phenomenally well played, very impressive, and certainly not designed for dancing.

Delibes - Sylvia (excerpts)

Margot Fonteyn (Sylvia) kneels before Julia Farron (Diana)
(Covent Garden 1952)

The French composer Léo Delibes wrote two ballets, both important and influential and both still staged. Sylvia, from 1876, is actually the second of the two.

Tchaikovsky was hugely impressed by the score: "The first ballet in which the music constitutes not just the main, but the sole interest. What charm, what grace, what melodic, rhythmic and harmonic richness."

Victor had just the conductor for such a score: Pierre Monteux, who had been closely associated with Diaghilev, and who had conducted the premiere of Daphnis et Chloe. (One wonders why RCA did not use Monteux's 1946 recording of the first suite in place of the uncongenial Toscanini Suite No. 2.)

Regardless, it's a pleasure to have Monteux's 1953 recordings of both Delibes suites, made with "Members of the Boston Symphony." The Sylvia excerpts were taped in the Manhattan Center in New York.

Pierre Monteux

Delibes - Coppélia (excerpts)

Margot Fonteyn in Coppélia

Coppélia was Delibes's first ballet score and remains the most familiar. It has appeared on this blog twice before; first, in excerpts conducted by Constant Lambert in conjunction with a 1946 Covent Garden production. (I believe the photo of Margot Fonteyn above is from that season.) Then, too, there was a later disc from another Covent Garden conductor, Hugo Rignold, with the Paris Conservatoire Orchestra. That LP also had excepts from Sylvia.

In the Boston performance, the opening horn passage is fairly slack, but the strings are lovely, and the famous Mazurka is dynamic. The recording from Symphony Hall is good, although the horns are distant. Alfred Krips is the violin soloist both here and in the Sylvia excerpts. Manuel Valerio is the clarinet soloist.

Both Delibes scores are delightful - as are all the selections in this album, for that matter.

Ravel - La Valse

Diana Adams of the New York City Ballet in La Valse

Monteux often conducted the Boston Symphony, but that orchestra's music director from 1949-62 was the Alsatian Charles Munch, who led the final two items on this program.

Ravel wrote La Valse as a "poème chorégraphique pour orchestre" for Diaghilev, who refused to stage it. It later was choreographed by Bronislava Nijinska, and in 1950 by George Balanchine for the New York City Ballet. (Balanchine used Ravel's Valses nobles et sentimentales as a preface to the La Valse music.)

Ravel's music is mysterious, lush and macabre in turn, all of which are made for Munch's gifts as a conductor. (Also for Balanchine, who made the piece into a dance of death.) Munch often aimed for excitement, and the critics were at times critical of that tendency. "The kind of performance with which Munch closes a frenzied evening of music making, faithfully duplicated in every particular," observed the Saturday Review. The Gramophone's Andrew Porter complained, "La Valse turns into a noisy roar at the climax." But others were appreciative. The recording is from 1950.

Charles Munch

Roussel - Bacchus et Ariane (Suite No. 2)

Bacchus et Ariane set by Giorgio de Chirico

The ballet Bacchus et Ariane is a late work by Albert Roussel (1869-1937), staged in 1930 with choreography by Serge Lifar and sets by the painter Giorgio de Chirico. Roussel derived two orchestral suites from the ballet - Suite No. 1 was premiered by Charles Munch in 1933; Suite No. 2 by Pierre Monteux in 1934. Regardless of this lineage, Munch programmed the second suite for this 1952 recording from Symphony Hall.

The ballet concerns the abduction of Ariane by Dionysus (aka Bacchus). Early on Roussel was considered an Impressionist, but by this late stage of his career was called a neoclassicist. That term, however, doesn't really capture his multi-faceted music, of which this is an excellent example. Munch's performance is definitive, in my view.

* * *

It's worth noting that although the set is called The Ballet, none of the recordings are of full ballets, except for La Valse and Invitation to the Dance. Nor does the set include anything by the arguably most famous ballet composer, Tchaikovsky.

The sound is generally excellent. As Victor sometimes did back in those days, it provided information about the number of microphones and their placement, ranging from the multi-miked Stokowski to a single microphone for the Toscanini-Ravel, Delibes and Roussel sessions.

I transferred this set from my collection, belatedly responding to a request. I did make use of the booklet scans on Internet Archive, suitably cleaned up and presented along with the covers as a PDF.

LINK

More from Philadelphia, with Ormandy and Stokowski Conducting, Plus Reups

Many people said they enjoyed therecent upload of mono recordings from Philadelphia led by Eugene Ormandy. So here is a new selection, with the notable bonus of two pieces led by Ormandy's predecessor in Philadelphia, Leopold Stokowski.

The source for these materials is the unprepossessing LP you see above, issued by RCA Victor's budget subsidiary Camden in the mid-1950s and ascribed to the spurious "Warwick Symphony Orchestra" for reasons known only to the RCA marketing wizards of the time. The "Warwick" is the Philadelphia Orchestra, I assure you.

One side of the program is devoted to the warhorse that inspired hundreds of B-movie soundtracks, Liszt's "Les Preludes." The other contains contemporary American music associated with the orchestra's home city, all in first recordings - works by Samuel Barber, Gian Carlo Menotti and Harl McDonald.

I also am reuploading two additional works by Harl McDonald and one by Max Brand, also from Philadelphia, that appeared here a decade ago. These have been remastered, and in one case newly transferred.

Liszt - Les Preludes

This 1937 recording was Ormandy's first shot at "Les Preludes"; he was to return to it in 1946 for the Columbia label. It is a straightforward reading, beautifully played by the orchestra. As with all these pieces, the recording quality is quite good. The 1950s transfer and pressing are much better than the cheap-looking cover would lead you to expect.

Barber - Essay for Orchestra, Op. 12

Samuel Barber and Eugene Ormandy

Samuel Barber was one of the twin wunderkinder who had been in residence at Philadelphia's Curtis Institute in the 1920s and who achieved fame shortly thereafter. The other was Gian Carlo Menotti, who we will encounter in a moment.

Barber's initial brush with fame was for his 1931 work, the brilliant "School for Scandal Overture," introduced by the Philadelphia Orchestra and Alexander Smallens. By 1938 he had been taken up by Arturo Toscanini, who premiered both the Adagio for Strings and the Essay for Orchestra, Op. 12 on the same NBC Orchestra program. On this disc we hear the Essay, usually called the "First Essay" these days, in Ormandy's 1940 recording, the first of any Barber composition. 

The conductor was to return to the composer's music just a few times in the recording studio, setting down the Adagio and the "Toccata Festiva" in the stereo era.

Menotti - Amelia Goes to the Ball Overture

Eugene Ormandy, Gian Carlo Menotti, Efrem Zimbalist

Menotti composed his first opera, Amelia Goes to the Ball, to his own libretto, written as Amelia al Ballo in his native Italian tongue. The work acquired its English name and translation before its 1937 premiere at Curtis, which was conducted by Fritz Reiner. 

The Ormandy recording of the overture dates from 1939, its first recording and apparently the first of any of Menotti's orchestral works. As with Barber, Ormandy was not often to return to Menotti's compositions on record; the only other example I have found is an excerpt from the ballet Sebastian.

Works by Harl McDonald

Harl McDonald and Eugene Ormandy

The composer Harl McDonald had close ties to both Philadelphia and its orchestra. A professor at the University of Pennsylvania, he also served on the orchestra's board and later as its manager. McDonald was a well-regarded composer whose work was recorded not just by Ormandy and Stokowski, but by Serge Koussevitzky of the rival Boston clan.

The three works here are apportioned out two to Stokowski and one to Ormandy. Stokowski chose "The Legend of the Arkansas Traveler" and the "Rhumba" movement from McDonald's Symphony No. 4. 

Leopold Stokowski in 1940

"Arkansas Traveler" was and is a familiar quasi-folk lick that dates back as least as far as 1847. McDonald's portentous opening could hardly be farther away from the familiar down-home squawk of Eck Robertson's famous 1922 fiddle recording. But soon enough the composer settles into a witty digression on the tune at hand, aided by concertmaster Alexander Hilsberg's masterful playing. Stokowski's approach is perfectly judged in this 1940 recording.

McDonald's "Rhumba" was presumably inspired by the dance that had become increasingly popular throughout the 1930s. The composer was a talented orchestrator, and his skills are shown to great effect in this superb 1935 rendering by Stokowski and the orchestra.

Ormandy is hardly less successful in his 1938 recording of a "Cakewalk" that forms the Scherzo movement of McDonald's Symphony No. 4. His orchestra could not be better in this piece, which again takes its cue from a popular dance form.

Reuploads

Today's reuploads also come from Philadelphia, involving Harl McDonald conducting his own work and Ormandy leading a piece by the little-known Max Brand. These come from two Columbia 10-inch LPs, both of which include the same recording of McDonald's Children's Symphony. The headers below take you to the original posts.

Music of McDonald and Brand

This 1950 10-inch LP couples McDonald's Children's Symphony with "The Legend of the One-Hoss Shay" by the little-remembered German-American composer Max Brand. The Philadelphia Orchestra is led by McDonald in his piece and by Ormandy in Brand's composition.

I wasn't crazy about the McDonald symphony either of the times I posted it. It's pleasant enough and very well presented, but when you put it up against such remarkable children's works as Britten's "Young Person's Guide to the Orchestra," you are matching skill against genius.

Brand's piece has something to do with a poem by Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr. That aside, it's an enjoyable work.

McDonald's "Builders of America" (and Children's Symphony, Again)

Columbia decided to record McDonald's cantata "Builders of America" in 1953, using the 1950 recording of the Children's Symphony as a disc mate.

The "Builders of America" is a sort of lesser "Lincoln Portrait," profiling both that President and George Washington. Edward Shenton, a well-known illustrator, provided the text, which is plain awful in parts. But the music is good, and narrator Claude Rains is fine. McDonald conducted the Columbia Chamber Orchestra, which was almost certainly composed of Philadelphia Orchestra members.

Music for Easter with Stokowski

I was casting about looking for records to present for Easter, and had hit upon a Robert Shaw set to transfer - forgetting that it is missing one of the records. But I also had this RCA Camden LP of "Music for Easter" at hand, so that's our selection for today.

For some reason, during the first part of the 1950s, RCA used pseudonyms for the orchestras featured on the budget Camden label. Here we have the "Warwick Symphony Orchestra", which actually is the Philadelphia Orchestra in famous old recordings led by Leopold Stokowski.

How does he make his hair do that?

Stoki was a very popular personality when these records were made. He not only appeared in a famous cartoon himself (Fantasia) but was well known enough to have been caricatured in another cartoon by Bugs Bunny. I have to admit that for this and other reasons, I am one of the snobs who have a hard time taking him seriously. Many people do, of course, and I yield to them for purposes of this post. (And, of course, who am I to make judgments, considering some of the silly stuff I have offered here.)

The cover says "Music for Easter" and comes complete with a Gothic cathedral facade, but this is not music you will hear in church. Instead we have the Act I Prelude and "Good Friday Spell" from Act III of Wagner's Parsifal, together with Rimsky-Korsakov's Russian Easter Overture.

The sound here is quite good (although there is a bit of noise on my pressing), especially when you consider that the Rimsky goes back as far as January 1929. The Parsifal excerpts are from November 1936, when Stokowski was beginning his withdrawal from Philadelphia.

More Borodin from Stokowski

A short while back, we heard from Leopold Stokowski and His Symphony Orchestra (how many other conductors were billed as having his very own symphony orchestra? Beecham? others?) in music by Falla and Borodin.

Here is another Borodin piece - In the Steppes of Central Asia - that Stoki recorded during the 1950 session that also produced the Polovtsian Dances. The two works apparently were combined on this 1954 issue to capitalize on the increased interest in Borodin's music occasioned by the musical Kismet.

I love the cover photo. Stoki looks like he is trying to halt an orchestra stampede. This kind of overdramatic pose is great fun; puts me in mind of ferocious middle linebackers or marauding stage juveniles.

The download includes only the Steppes; see the Falla-Borodin post for the other music. The pressing is a little crackly - it was one of those stealth bad pressings that looks nice but plays noisy.

LINK

Stokowski Conducts Falla and Borodin

Here by request is an early LP of music conducted by Leopold Stokowski - Borodin's "Polovtsian Dances" from Prince Igor and Falla's "El Amor Brujo." In other words, a work sometimes called "Love the Sorcerer" conducted by a musician sometimes called the Old Sorcerer.

Our friend David says this Falla is the best he's heard, and indeed this 1946 version with the Hollywood Bowl Symphony is not the only notable version led by the conductor. He also did a vivid stereo version with the Philadelphia Orchestra. This one is characteristically atmospheric and nicely recorded.

The label says the Polovtsian Dances were "transcribed" by Stokowski. I have no idea what that means, although it suggests that Stoki has adjusted things for recording purposes. This session, with a pickup orchestra, is from 1950.

I'm not the world's biggest Stokowski admirer, although I notice that I do seem to have quite a few recordings by him, including both the Falla versions. And in truth I do enjoy them!

Seasons Greetings from Stoki

Back in the mid-50s, you could hang these season's greetings from Stoki on your tree, with a Christmas-themed EP inside. I'm not surprised this idea didn't spread to other conductors - can you imagine A Jolly Christmas with George Szell or Joy to the World from Fritz Reiner?

I hate to say it, but Stoki came to the party with stale goods - these items are excerpts from recordings that he made for RCA in the late 40s.

But the package is unique - I can't recall any other record sleeve that you can hang on a tree.

REUPLOAD - DECEMBER 2014

Morton Gould by Mitropoulos; Stoki Does Billy

The connecting tissue on this issue is the Philharmonic-Symphony Orchestra of New York (as the NY Phil was then titled) performing American music. Morton Gould, who made an appearance earlier on the blog as a conductor, shows up again, this time as both composer and conductor.

Gould's terrific Philharmonic Waltzes were written for the NY bunch, and this is a remarkable performance under Dimitri Mitropoulos, either right before or early in his tenure as the Philharmonic music director, which began in 1949. For the first two years, he co-led the operation with Leopold Stokowski. (Now there was a contrast.)

Stoki also appears on this record. The old cowpoke takes two of Copland's Billy the Kid pieces for a ride, then changes gears and genres for the impressionist Griffes item.

It's amazing to hear the mid-century Phil handle the Gould Quickstep march, then the languid White Peacock, both perfectly in style. These recordings are now largely forgotten - they shouldn't be.

One final note - this item has another cover by Alex Steinweiss.

NEW LINK