Showing posts with label Nathaniel Shilkret. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Nathaniel Shilkret. Show all posts

09 September 2018

Historic Gershwin Recordings

I know what you're thinking - what, another Gershwin record? But some of you may not have heard these, the original versions of several famous compositions. So here they are for those who think too much Gershwin is not enough.

This compilation contains the first recordings of the Rhapsody in Blue, An American in Paris and the Three Preludes. Also included are Gershwin's piano versions of songs from the shows Oh, Kay! and Tip-Toes.

Ferde Grofé, George Gershwin, producer S.L. (Roxy) Rothafel, Paul Whiteman
Gershwin and Paul Whiteman recorded Rhapsody in Blue just a few months after the February 1924 Aeolian Hall concert that introduced the work. (By the way, Aeolian Hall was in a still-existing building on 42nd Street across from Bryant Park. I didn't know that until recently, even though I worked a block away for many years.)

Whiteman called his concert "An Experiment in Modern Music," concocting an unwieldy program starting off with the Original Dixieland Jazz Band's "Livery Stable Blues" and ending up with Elgar's Pomp and Circumstance March No. 1. Gershwin's hurriedly composed Rhapsody stood out for its originality and flair, becoming so famous that Whiteman soon took the whole program on tour.

The recorded version is much abridged, but the Rhapsody's quality is strikingly evident even in this acoustic recording with its constricted frequency response. Ross Gorman's famous opening clarinet glissando is just as outrageous sounding today as it was then. Today's clarinetists use a much smoother tone quality than Gorman produces, and few of them would put forth his braying and laughing effects with the same gusto. It's said that at rehearsal Gorman inserted those effects as a joke on Gershwin. The composer actually liked them and wanted them included in the concert. I wonder if their intent was to mock the "Livery Stable Blues." The point of the concert was to show that the ODJB's style of music had been supplanted by Whiteman's smoother, more dignified type of jazz music. Whiteman had his first hit in 1920, and in a few years had become massively popular. He had already literally been crowned the "King of Jazz." That ceremony had taken place as a publicity stunt upon the the band's return from a 1923 European tour. To the general public, "jazz" had become the modern pop music that Whiteman's dance band purveyed, in succession to the ODJB's raucous sound.

An American in Paris was Gershwin's third major concert success, following the Rhapsody and the Concerto in F. Commissioned in 1928 by conductor Walter Damrosch of the New York Symphony, the first recording was in 1929 with an orchestra led by the immensely prolific Nat Shilkret, then Victor's director of light music. The recording session was not without its difficulties. Supposedly Shilkret banned the meddling Gershwin from the studio until the conductor realized he needed a celeste player for the score. At that point the composer was asked to return. Or so the story goes. It strikes me as a good tale that is highly unlikely.

Several important Gershwin piano solos make up the rest of the selections. The Three Preludes, from a 1928 session in London, are dispatched more briskly (and somewhat less accurately) than the the recording by the composer's acolyte, Oscar Levant, which can be heard via this post. Speaking of brisk, Gershwin hustles through eight songs from his shows Oh, Kay! and Tip-Toes in a bracing fashion - even the torch song "Someone to Watch Over Me" rattles by quickly. In his liner notes, Gershwin expert Edward Jablonski avers that the quick tempos adopted in these 1926 recordings were designed for dancers. (Jablonski must not have tried dancing to them.) Gershwin's metronomic manner likely reflects the ragtime tradition that he grew up with. The young composer's first success in fact was a rag. Still and all, his pianism is winning, even though listening to the eight songs all at once can be tiring. The selection concludes with one of my personal favorites, "When Do We Dance?"

I transferred these items from a indifferently produced LP reissue of variable sound quality. After some refurbishing, Rhapsody in Blue comes up very well considering its acoustic origins. The recording horn did not reproduce any frequencies above 3 kHz, blunting the ring of Gershwin's piano. But the pungent effects produced by Whiteman's fine musicians come through clearly.

The balance of the program was recorded electrically and has a wider range. An American in Paris was not especially well balanced, however. Although Gershwin composed the piece for a full orchestra, and Victor grandly promoted its "Victor Symphony Orchestra" on the label, the recorded evidence is that the string complement is decidedly underpowered. The early going sounds like a concerto for taxi horn and xylophone, with the stringed instruments barely audible. I have added a small amount of convolution reverberation to the mix so as to provide some air to the dead sound and resonance to the strings. The performance is otherwise quite good.

On the solo works, the sound of Gershwin's piano comes across well after some adjustments, although its tone is not entirely clean.

Despite my reservations about the sound, it's wonderful that these historic items are available to us today in such remarkable performances.