Noel Mewton-Wood

In the early days of this blog, I often featured the Australian Noel Mewton-Wood, who died very young, leaving a striking legacy of inspired piano playing.

In all Mewton-Wood appeared here seven times, in concertos by Schumann, Chopin, Stravinsky, Beethoven and Tchaikovsky.

I've now gone back to the original files and greatly improved the sound, due both to improved tools and many years of experience. The downloads now also include complete scans. 

All the Mewton-Wood records here - and most of the ones he appeared on - were for the Concert Hall Society. Almost all the discs below were issued in the 10-inch format on its budget subsidiary, the Musical Masterpiece Society.

Very little documentation survives as to when these recordings took place, and the orchestras usually were pseudonymous. The Classical Discography dates then from 1951 to 1954. The latter must be the year of issue. Mewton-Wood died in December 1953.

About Mewton-Wood

Mewton-Wood was born in Melbourne in 1922. A prodigy, he moved to England at a young age to study at the Royal Academy of Music. His debut performance at the Queen's Hall was in 1940 - Beethoven's third concerto with the London Philharmonic and Sir Thomas Beecham.

His death was by his own hand at age 31. He blamed himself for his partner's death of a ruptured appendix.

His obituary in The Times of London described the effect of his 1940 debut: "At once his remarkable control and his musicianship were apparent: the ascending scales in octaves, with which the pianist first enters, thundered out with whirlwind power, but he could summon beautiful cantabile tone for the slow movement and the phrasing of the rondo theme was admirably neat for all the rapidity of the tempo." You will find all that captured in the recordings below.

Walter Goehr

Walter Goehr

A word about the hugely skillful conductor Walter Goehr, who is in charge of the varied orchestral forces in all these recordings.

Born in 1903 in Germany, he came to England in the 1930s, soon becoming a house conductor for EMI. He became a free-lancer later on, making many recordings for the Concert Hall Society. Goehr also was a composer - as was Mewton-Wood. Goehr son, Alexander, was also a well-known composer who died last year. Walter Goehr died in 1960.

Schumann - Piano Concerto

The recordings all were made over the period of a few years and the dates are uncertain; the discussions below are not in chronological order.

The Schumann concerto was apparently released in 1954, which suggests but does not prove that it was one of the last ones recorded. (The Pristine release dates it as "circa 1952.")

As with several of these records, the orchestra is billed as the "Netherlands Philharmonic." While there is an orchestra by that name today, it did not form until 1985. The band accompanying Mewton-Wood is thought to be either a Dutch radio orchestra, or an ensemble chosen from players in those orchestras.

This was a good recording and a superb performance by the pianist. Goehr, as always, is highly effective.

LINK to Schumann Concerto

Chopin - Piano Concertos No. 1 and 2

The Chopin piano concertos, both masterfully done, date from about 1952 and 1953 respectively. (Please note that the Pristine release dates the latter as being from 1948.)

The sound of the first concerto was a trifle tubby, which I've tamed. The second concerto has an "empty hall" sound and was somewhat steely sounding, which I have again addressed.

The first concerto is with the "Netherlands Philharmonic." The ensemble in the second concerto is listed as the Radio Zurich Orchestra, which as far as I can tell was a pseudonym. A Classical Discography lists the performers as the Radioorchester Beromünster, but that ensemble did not exist under that name until 1957.

That said, the performances are fine. As others have noted, the orchestras are nothing special, but Goehr has them on alert.

LINK to Chopin Concerto No. 1

LINK to Chopin Concerto No. 2

Beethoven - Piano Concerto No. 4

The majestic Beethoven concerto comes from 1952, per the Pristine release. The accompaniments are by the Utrecht Symphony Orchestra, which actually existed, but had changed its name to the "Utrechts Stedelijk [Municipal] Orkest" by the time this record was made. To complete the circle, that ensemble was to become part of the newly formed Netherland Philharmonic in 1985.

Neither the recording nor the orchestra is the equal of the Vienna Philharmonic, who recorded this concerto with Maurizio Pollini and Karl Böhm, recently uploaded here. The pianist is another matter.

LINK to Beethoven Concerto No. 4

Tchaikovsky - Piano Concertos No. 1 and 3, Concert Fantasy

By the time the Tchaikovsky first concerto came out circa 1954, the Musical Masterpiece Society had run out of pseudonyms, so it just listed the band as the "MMS Symphony Orchestra." It seems likely that this is a Dutch ensemble of some complexion.

The third concerto - coupled with the rarely heard Concert Fantasy - comes from Winterthur, Switzerland and 1951. (Pristine says 1952.) Concert Hall Society listed the orchestra as the "Winterthur Symphony," which is likely the Winterthurer Stadtorkester. (It later became the Musikkollegium Winterthur.)

The recording of the first concerto is OK; the third was fog-bound, which I've tried to dispel. The latter was also well off pitch, which has been corrected.

The performances seem fine to me, but I am far from a Tchaikovsky piano concerto aficionado.

LINK to Tchaikovsky Concerto No. 1

LINK to Tchaikovsky Concerto No. 3 and Concert Fantasy

Stravinsky - Firebird (1919 Suite), Concerto for Piano and Winds

The Stravinsky disc is the only one where Goehr is given a solo turn, so to speak. He leads a lively reading of the 1919 suite from Stravinsky's ballet The Firebird, a 20th century masterwork.

Mewton-Wood is heard in Stravinsky's neo-classical Concerto for Piano and Winds, from 1923-24 and often described as "spiky." That it is - except the work begins with a dirge-like Largo.

The performance does show Mewton-Wood's range - at least after he joins in to a motoric passage following the Largo. He has this work well in hand - and the orchestra is much better too.

These performances are listed as by the "Netherlands Philharmonic." A Classical Discography claims the concerto is with the Residentie Orchestra of The Hague. It dates the concerto as being from 1952 and The Firebird from 1956.

LINK to Stravinsky works

Ahronovich Conducts Tchaikovsky's Manfred

The Russian-Israeli conductor Yuri Ahronovitch (1932-2002) has appeared here several times and has achieved a certain level of popularity among listeners. I had a request for more from him, so here is his 1977 recording of Tchaikovsky's Manfred. 

Yuri Ahronovitch

This is the first time we have had a chance to hear the conductor at his most subjective. His Nielsen Third Symphony was powerful but not eccentric; the same could be said of Taneyev's Fourth Symphony. And in the Taneyev Concert Suite he was the well-mannered accompanist to a tidy and not in the least temperamental soloist.

Manfred is extravagantly Romantic music; Ahronovitch was an extravagant conductor, so it's a combination that should have worked out. Whether it did or not was a matter of some debate.

Lord Byron

Tchaikovsky called Manfred a "Symphony in Four Scenes," but it could also be considered four interlinked symphonic poems. The composer, at the behest of Balakirev, patterned it after Berlioz's Harold in Italy. Both were inspired by works of Lord Byron. The French composer explained Harold's solo part as follows: "I wanted to make the viola a kind of melancholy dreamer in the manner of Byron's Childe-Harold." Manfred has no soloist, but nonetheless concerns the troubles of another melancholy Byronic hero.

In both works, Lord Byron's heroes mirrored his own travails. The noble poet had evacuated from England to the Alps after scandals that involved a supposed affair with his half-sister. His hero Manfred, similarly, has an unspecified but forbidden relationship with with his late love, Astarte. He is tortured by this, resorts to the supernatural to help him forget, but remains bereft.

Eventually he chooses death, famously telling an Abbot, "Old man! 'tis not so difficult to die."

Pyotr Tchaikovsky

In conducting Manfred, Ahronovitch's tempos struck some reviewers as excessively slow. Edward Greenfield in The Gramophone: "Not since the days of Mengelberg at his most wilful can I remember a Tchaikovsky performance which indulged so freely in rhythmic caprice ... I could hardly believe my ears at Ahronovitch’s treatment of the lovely Andante theme for muted strings at bar 171 in the first movement representing Astarte. I thought that the first phrase of five quavers and a dotted minim would never end, and after that the following pause was equally exaggerated. No doubt that extreme ritenuto style can on occasion in a live performance give a sense of spontaneous expressiveness, but here it sounds mannered to a degree, with Tchaikovsky’s free-sung phrases getting glued up."

But others were convinced by the performance. Here's Ivan March two months later, reviewing the tape edition in the same magazine: "EG [Edward Greenfield] and I are generally at one on Tchaikovsky interpretations but I enjoyed Ahronovitch’s account of Manfred more than he. It is very much a personal reading, certainly, but in this Byronic work one can accept a little licence; for instance I found Ahronovitch’s treatment of the tender second subject of the first movement (on muted strings) rather moving and his extreme ritenuto style effective in its way. Certainly this performance has transferred well to tape with good detail and an impressive weight and richness in the bass."

Whatever the merits of the performance, there are many memorable moments in Tchaikovsky's score. For me, Ahronovitch is at his best in the dramatic fourth movement. 

The record was transferred from a mint copy in my collection with dramatic if none-too-subtle late-analogue sound. This is a notably well-filled LP; the second side is 36 minutes long!

The link below is for the 16-bit, 44.1 kHz version. A 24-bit, 96 kHz transfer is available on request.

LINK

Seiji Ozawa's First Recording

That young conductor on the left above bears little resemblance to the wizened 88-year-old Seiji Ozawa who died this week. He was 29 at the time and making his first recording.

The resulting readings of Tchaikovsky and Mendelssohn concertos were typically crisp, with fine balances and sharp articulation, a portent of things to come from this prodigy.

The young Seiji Ozawa

He was matched in this 1965 recording by the 25-year-old violin virtuoso Erick Friedman. A protégé of Jascha Heifetz, Friedman (1939-2004) was a relative veteran of the recording studios, having made several earlier discs.

Ozawa had already achieved some renown at the time. He was the music director of the Ravinia Festival, the summer home of the Chicago Symphony, and had just been named as the music director of the Toronto Symphony. He would take over the Boston Symphony in 1973, remaining there for 29 years.

Here's Harris Goldsmith of High Fidelity on this performance: "Erick Friedman plays very well indeed, but what establishes this disc on a rarefied plane is Ozawa’s absolutely brilliant work. It is particularly instructive to find how such a rudimentary (one would have thought) orchestral backdrop as that of the Tchaikovsky takes on logical significance when the rhythm is held firmly, when important instrumental voices are brought out structurally, and when tutti passages are played with accuracy and judicious balance."

Erick Friedman

Goldsmith on the soloist: "Friedman rises mightily to the challenge, phrasing with fine intelligence and control." Let me add that the performance by the London Symphony is beyond reproach.

The recording was made in Walthamstow Assembly Hall by Decca-London engineers for RCA Victor. The sound is excellent. The disc is a tribute to all involved.

LINK

Solomon Plays Tchaikovsky and Chopin

The pianist Solomon made many great records - a number of which have appeared on this blog recently. But none, to my ears, are quite as dazzling as his 1949 version of Tchaikovsky's Piano Concerto No. 1, made with Issay Dobrowen and the Philharmonia Orchestra.

Today's post combines that performance with most of Solomon's Chopin recordings from the 1940s.

Tchaikovsky Piano Concerto No. 1

Issay Dobrowen was an exceptional accompanist and was often used in that role by HMV. He and Solomon had a rare rapport, never so much as in this recording of the Tchaikovsky.

Issay Dobrowen

I will admit that I had my fill of this particular concerto about 40 years ago, but the work of Solomon and Dobrowen made me rethink my prejudice against it. Solomon handles the insane difficulties of the piece with such aplomb - always in perfect concert with Dobrowen - that one's only reactions can be fascination and admiration. The entire work proceeds in such a manner.

This 1949 edition was the pianist's second go at the concerto in the recording studio, although he had been performing it regularly since he was 12. In 1929 he traveled to Manchester for a Tchaikovsky session with Hamilton Harty and the Hallé Orchestra. This was Solomon's first concerto recording, following a few Liszt pieces made a week or so beforehand. He was to record no more concertos until the Bliss in 1943, followed by the Beethoven third in 1944, both with Boult. The Brahms Concerto No. 2 with Dobrowen came in 1947, the Liszt Hungarian Fantasia with Walter Susskind in 1948, and the Scriabin and Tchaikovsky concertos in 1949.

Solomon's biographer Bryan Crimp noted, "[Producer Walter] Legge was particularly keen to have a brand new recording of the Tchaikovsky concerto for HMV's entry into the LP market while the release of a recording of the Scriabin concerto would in all probability, have resulted in a premiere recording. The Tchaikovsky recording did indeed become the first HMV ‘plum label' LP record."

The Scriabin concerto remained unissued until 1991. Solomon undertook it as a favor to Legge, although neither he nor the conductor had played it before. According to Crimp, "the reservations of both pianist and conductor are, regrettably, plain for all to hear." My own view is that it is well worth a listen, although the transfer that has been issued is below pitch and screechingly bright, not flattering either to the Philharmonia strings or the pianist. Rebalanced, it sounds fine. (Anyone interested in my redo of a lossy copy of the concerto can leave a note in the comments.)

The Tchaikovsky was set down May 26-28, 1949 in Abbey Road Studio No. 1. The sound is very good, with this transfer coming from the HMV LP issue of the 1950s (cover above), from my collection. I also have a later LP reissue with marginally cleaner sound, but the engineer had added unnecessary reverb to that disc, so I went with the earlier edition. The concerto and the Chopin pieces discussed below have been mastered in ambient stereo.

Nine Pieces by Chopin

"Those familiar only with Solomon’s work in the post-World War Il years, an era in which he was recognised as the pre-eminent Beethoven interpreter, might find this earlier reputation as an incomparable Chopin player something of a surprise," wrote Bryan Crimp, "though proof, if needed, can be readily found in his recordings for Columbia made during the first half of the 1930s and for HMV during the early- and mid-1940s."

Solomon began his Chopin recordings with two Polonaises, a Fantasie and an Ėtude in 1932, none of which are repeated in this set from the 1940s. In late 1934, he took up two F major Ėtudes, Op. 10, No. 8 and Op. 25, No. 3, the latter of which he remade in 1942, and which is included in this collection.

The earliest Chopin recording here also dates from 1942, the Nocturne in E flat major, Op. 9, No. 2. Later in September, he began recording three Ėtudes - the F major Ėtude mentioned above, along with two Ėtudes in F minor - Op. 10, No. 9, and Op. 25, No. 2, completing them in October.

Solomon's final Ėtude disc was the Op. 10, No. 3 in E major, made in June and July 1945. He concluded the recordings in this set in early April 1946 - the Ballade No. 4 in F minor, Op. 52, the Waltz No. 14 in E minor, Op. Posth., and the Mazurka No. 48 in A minor, Op. 78, No. 2.

Abbey Road Studio 3

All these recordings come from Abbey Road Studio No. 3 and have good sound. These transfers were cleaned up from 78 needle-drops found on Internet Archive.

Solomon recorded no additional Chopin works after 1946, and for the final decade of the pianist's career, he and HMV focused on the works of Beethoven and Mozart. Crimp observed, "By the late-40s Solomon’s repertoire became more concentrated. There was less Schumann and certainly less Chopin. Beethoven began to dominate."

The Beethoven concerto cycle has been posted here (1 and 3, coupled with Grieg and Schumann) and here (2, 4 and 5). Mozart's Concerto No. 15 was packaged with the second set of Beethoven concertos. A post with more Mozart concertos and sonatas is forthcoming.

More Tchaikovsky - Ballet Suites from Boult

Sir Adrian Boult

In posting these ballet suites from The Nutcracker and Sleeping Beauty, it may seem like I am getting a head start on the holiday season. The timing is a coincidence, however; this particular transfer is in response to a request.

The conductor is Sir Adrian Boult, whose recordings are always welcome on this blog. We have heard him most recently in the music of Ralph Vaughan Williams. Indeed, I've only had Boult here in English music (Elgar, Britten, Arnold, in addition to RVW). 

That narrow focus does Sir Adrian a disservice; he was a distinguished conductor of all types of music, and often programmed the works of Tchaikovsky. Of course, he didn't know the Russian composer, as he did all the English composers mentioned above. Still, their lifetimes did slightly overlap, the conductor being born in 1889, and the composer dying in 1893.

Boult recorded music from The Nutcracker on three occasions; this was his only recording of music from Sleeping Beauty. The set was done with the Royal Philharmonic in 1967. This particular record, may have been, in fact, the first Nutcracker I owned. Many have come (and gone) since then. The Nutcracker music has appeared here as conducted by Arthur Fiedler, Frederick Stock, Sir Thomas Beecham, Paul van Kempen and Fritz Lehmann. You can hear music from Sleeping Beauty led by Nicolai Malko, Constant Lambert and Robert Irving.

The Studio 2 edition

The two suites from Boult and the RPO were first issued in UK Columbia's Studio Two series. That was EMI's answer to Decca's Phase 4. Both were designed to be "sonic spectaculars." At the time, that meant they employed multiple microphones for a close-up view of the proceedings, rather as if you were sitting on Sir Adrian's rostrum and getting in his way.

In practice, whether because of the close-in mikes or knob-twiddling by the engineers, the result was a much-elevated frequency response in the upper mid-range and high frequencies. I've not tinkered with the sonic balance; your tone controls, if you have them, should be at the ready.

The Seraphim edition

This transfer is from the US Seraphim edition of 1971. The record suffers from the usual poor surfaces of the time, which in this case started with drop-outs in the first few measures of The Nutcracker. These were present on two different pressings, so apparently were induced in mastering. I have replaced those opening few seconds with another performance sonically matched to the EMI edition. You may notice a shift in perspective when Boult takes over.

Even with some caveats about the sound, these are buoyant performances that will give much pleasure. Sir Adrian had experience as a ballet conductor early in his career, and his tempos are generally pleasing, although I doubt that any troupe of Russian dancers could keep pace with his accelerando during The Nutcracker's Trepak.

In The Nutcracker, in addition to the selections contained in Op. 71a, Sir Adrian inserts the Pas de deux (No. 14a) before the concluding Waltz of the Flowers.

I have to observe that of the two covers above, I much prefer the graceful ballet image chosen by EMI to the drab mash-up of Peter Max and Petipa offered by Seraphim.

Although this record was originally issued in EMI's Studio 2 series, it was actually taped in Studio 1 at Abbey Road. At the time of the sessions, Abbey Road Studio 2 was the lair of the Beatles. The Fab Ones and the great conductor apparently were not in the building simultaneously, however. Otherwise, Sir Adrian could have conducted "I Am the Walrus," which was on the group's docket at the time. He had the moustache for it.

Sir Adrian in the studio, 1969

Tchaikovsky's 'The Seasons' with Morton Gould and Lev Oborin

Detail of Tchaikovsky portrait by Nikolai Kuznetsov

The headline says this post is devoted to Tchaikovsky's The Seasons. So why does the Morton Gould record cover below say The Months?

That's something we would have to ask Gould, were he still around. The composer called his suite The Seasons, and most other recordings I have seen call it the same.

Gould did have logic on his side. Tchaikovsky wrote the work on a month-by-month basis for the publication Nuvellist in 1875-76, and the individual pieces are subtitled for the appropriate month. But the composer and the publisher still called the suite The Seasons.

By whatever name, we have two versions of this piano work for you: one an arrangement by Gould for piano and orchestra, the other a Russian recording by Lev Oborin of the original suite.

The Months with Morton Gould

The title was not all that Gould changed. The suite was written for piano, but Gould orchestrated the work in Tchaikovsky's style, retaining a piano part.

It all works quite well in this 1951 recording, made in Columbia's 30th Street Studio, and a bit more steely sounding than usual from this source. It's a light suite, most similar in approach to the composer's ballet scores. (He was orchestrating Swan Lake at about the same time.)

The best known selections are probably the "Barcarolle" (June) and "In the Troika" (November). The latter is sometimes heard at Christmas, even though the composer assigned it to the previous month. Tchaikovsky's composition, however, is not heard as often as Prokofiev's "Troika" from the Lieutenant Kijé Suite.

I don't want to slight Tchaikovsky's December piece, which is one of his most felicitous waltzes.

Morton Gould in the recording studio

The Seasons has been arranged for orchestra several times. Most recordings use the orchestration by Russian conductor Aleksandr Gauk. As far as I can tell, this is the only recording of Gould's version. It has not been reissued for many years, to my knowledge.

The Seasons with Lev Oborin

Although his name is not often heard these days, Lev Oborin (1907-74) was a distinguished Russian pianist who won the first International Chopin Competition in 1927. Oborin often performed with David Oistrakh, and Aram Khachaturian dedicated his Piano Concerto to him.

Lev Oborin

Oborin's recording dates from 1950. This version is from a 1963 LP issued on the small Bruno label, possibly a quasi-bootleg. The LP was reissued many times on LP in Russia, but I haven't turned up any CD issues nor any other Western releases, save for a UK Parlophone album (that was, incidentally, titled The Months).

The recording is adequate; the performance is splendid, although Oborin's troika just ambles along, apparently in no hurry to get to Babushka's house. The pianist does, however, excel in the concluding waltz.

Thanks to my friend Ernie, who alerted me to the Gould LP on Internet Archive.

Nutcrackers with Van Kempen and Lehmann

The Pacific Northwest Ballet production

For those of us who can never have too many Nutcracker Suites, here are two from leading mid-century conductors, Paul van Kempen and Fritz Lehmann.

Both maestros chose the suite as constructed by Tchaikovsky himself, designated as Op. 71a. It includes the Miniature Overture, the March, the Dance of the Super-Plum Fairy, the Russian, Arabian and Chinese Dances, the Dance of the Reed Flutes and the Waltz of the Flowers. 

Also on this blog, Op. 71a can be found as performed by the Chicago Symphony and Frederick Stock and the Royal Philharmonic and Sir Thomas Beecham. (The latter is newly remastered.) Finally, Arthur Fiedler and the Boston Pops came up with a different and equally delightful Nutcracker Suite No. 2 in 1949, available here.

More about the Van Kempen and Lehmann recordings below.

Paul van Kempen and the Dresden Philharmonic Orchestra

Paul van Kempen

The Dutch conductor Paul van Kempen (1893-1955) spent most of his career working in Germany, a fact that made him less than popular when he returned to the Netherlands for conducting engagements after the war. He was the principal conductor of the Dresden Philharmonic Orchestra from 1934-42, making this set for Deutsche Grammophon in 1939.

Despite being the second-ranked orchestra in its home city (the best known is the Staatskapelle Dresden), the Philharmonic did well here, as did DG's sound engineers. I would only question the leaden tempo for the Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy.

This transfer comes from what I believe is a postwar pressing on DG's main label; the original issue was on its Polydor imprint.

Fritz Lehmann and the Munich Philharmonic Orchestra

Fritz Lehmann

Fritz Lehmann (1904-56) was another busy conductor who died too young. An enthusiast of Baroque music and early advocate of period performance practices, much of his recorded legacy is from the classical and Romantic periods. DG kept him busy but he also recorded for other labels.

This Nutcracker Suite comes from a July 1951 DG session with the Munich Philharmonic. As with the Dresden Philharmonic, the Munich ensemble may be the second-best known orchestra in its home city. The Bavarian State Radio Orchestra perhaps has a higher profile internationally.

EP cover

Like Van Kempen, Lehmann was a highly skilled conductor whose performance with the excellent Munich orchestra will give much pleasure.

This transfer is from the original 78s; DG also issued the set on EPs and LPs with a variety of colorful covers that you can view in the download. One is at right.

Both of these sets were recent addition to the lossless files that can be found on Internet Archive. As always, I've cleaned them up for presentation here.

Lambert's 'Sleeping Beauty' Recordings, Plus Weldon's 'Faust' Ballet Music

1946 Covent Garden Sleeping Beauty production - the Prologue

My recent post of an LP containing Nicolai Malko's recording of excerpts from Tchaikovsky's score for the Sleeping Beauty ballet set off a lengthy discussion: was it really Malko or did the record company mistakenly include Constant Lambert's 1939 Sadler's Wells recordings?

It turns out it really was Malko. I had always doubted the doubters, mainly because I was familiar with Lambert's Sleeping Beauty recordings, and they were not the same as what RCA had presented as Malko's rendition. So today I come full circle by presenting the Lambert recordings.

The remarkable Lambert, the long-time music director for the Sadler's Wells Ballet, actually made two sets of excerpts from the ballet, one in conjunction with a 1938 staging, and one in 1946. The latter was recorded in association with a new production by Ninette de Valois and Frederick Ashton in the troupe's new Covent Garden home, with costumes by Oliver Messel. As she did in 1938, Margot Fonteyn danced Princess Aurora, with Robert Helpmann as both Prince Florimund and Carabosse.

Margot Fonteyn as Princess Aurora in the Rose Adagio

Margot Fonteyn and Robert Helpmann in the Awakening Scene

Robert Helpmann as Carabosse

Fortunately - and unusually - there is a good visual record of the 1946 staging in the form of color photographs taken by Frank Sharman during performances. The images seen here are from his collection, as made available on the Covent Garden website. Several others are in the download, along with a few black-and-white images taken by Merlyn Severn and published in his book Sadler's Wells Ballet at Covent Garden, a record of the 1946 season.

In the February 1939 session for HMV, Lambert assayed some of the most familiar excerpts from the score - the Introduction, the Waltz, the Rose Adagio, Puss-in-Boots and the White Cat, and the Finale. In 1946, he avoided these items, taking up the Dance of the Maids of Honor and Pages, the Aurora Variation, Red Riding Hood and the Wolf, and a few other dances.

Robert Helpmann and Constant Lambert

Lambert's work is, as usual, beautifully done. Both orchestras are up to the task, although neither has much weight of tone, as far as one can tell from the 70- and 80-year-old recordings, which nonetheless are relatively good for the period. As you might expect, the sound from 1946 is better than from 1939.

The 1939 recordings are taken from lossless needle-drops found on Internet Archive, as refurbished by me. The 1946 excerpts come from an early 50's U.S. Columbia LP in my collection that also included ballet music from Gounod's opera Faust, discussed below.

Weldon Conducts Ballet Music from Gounod's Faust

George Weldon by
Walter Stoneman, 1949

George Weldon (1908-63) was a talented English conductor who was the director of the City of Birmingham Orchestra in 1946, when these recordings were taken down. He was to stay there only until 1950, when he was dismissed or resigned (accounts differ), supposedly because he was having an affair with choir director Ruth Gipps, a very good composer whose music has lately been revived. Orchestras could be strict about such things back then - blog favorite Efrem Kurtz was reportedly shown the stage door by the Houston Symphony because of a liaison with principal flute Elaine Shaffer, later a well-known soloist.

Weldon made quite a number of records for EMI during his brief life - including a semi-complete version of Sleeping Beauty in 1956. I believe he was associated with the Sadler's Wells Ballet at that time, although the recording was with the Philharmonia. Sadler's Wells music director Robert Irving had recorded a competing version of the ballet the year before, which has appeared on this blog. EMI seemed to make the score a specialty - and so does Big 10-Inch Record, it appears.

The premiere of Gounod's Faust had been in 1859; Gounod added the dance music to Act 5 a decade later at the request of the Paris Opera, where ballets were expected as part of the spectacle.

Weldon secures a lively performance from the underpowered Birmingham band, which had been been decimated during the war. The sound - as with the rest of these items - is well-balanced and pleasing without any high-fidelity pretensions.

Lambert and Malko Conduct Tchaikovsky

Today we return to the recordings of composer-conductor-arranger-author Constant Lambert in a work by Tchaikovsky, a composer he favored. We also hear another Tchaikovsky composition led by a much different maestro, the expatriate Ukrainian-Russian Nicolai Malko (1883-1961).

The Lambert recording is Romeo and Juliet, Tchaikovsky's dramatic and descriptive so-called "Fantasy-Overture," here in a 1941 performance with the City of Birmingham Symphony. For some reason, neither on the original 78s nor here, in its only LP issue, were the Birmingham forces identified, being tagged only as a "Symphony Orchestra."

Constant Lambert by Madame Yevonde, 1933

The Birmingham musicians were not known to be a virtuoso ensemble - during the war the orchestra was composed of part-time players. Lambert draws good results from the group, however - certainly better than a few of the orchestras that have appeared on this blog. It's possible the orchestra was augmented for this recording.

Lambert takes the introduction slowly (too slowly for me), contrasting this music with the turbulent second section, depicting the Montagues and Capulets. The love music is nicely handled by the orchestra. Throughout, as often happens with 80-year-old recordings, the impact of the music suffers from a compressed dynamic range.

I don't think the Lambert recording has had an official reissue since this 1955 LP version, nor has Malko's rendition of excerpts from Tchaikovsky's score for the ballet Sleeping Beauty. Both were issued originally on 78 by HMV - even the 1952 Malko recording, which also appeared on EP - and have not been revisited by that company or its successors, to my knowledge. If anything, the Malko has been even more neglected than the Lambert. This 1955 RCA Victor issue is the only LP version of both scores that I can find.

Malko was a fine conductor who made many excellent records for EMI in the 1950s, first with the Danish Radio Symphony Orchestra and then the Philharmonia, who appear here in the Sleeping Beauty excerpts. Even so, he never had a prestigious orchestral position in the West, being best known for working regularly with the Danish orchestra.

Nicolai Malko

Malko takes a dry-eyed approach to Sleeping Beauty. It's all very impressive, but there is little emotion here in what is, after all, a fairy tale. The orchestra - probably the best in England at the time - plays beautifully throughout. The sound from Abbey Road is, as it often was, clear but not overly warm.

Label of the Waltz 78

The complete Sleeping Beauty is a long (nearly three-hour) score, and RCA is of little help in identifying the handful of excerpts that Malko chose. The disc is not banded and George Jellinek's notes are vague. I spent some time with the more-or-less complete Previn recording, and have identified the selections in the download by number. Malko programs many of the familiar items in the score - the Introduction, the "Rose Adagio," "Puss-in-Boots and the White Cat" - but curiously leaves out the big waltz that is the ballet's most famous dance. It turns out that he had recorded it a few years earlier with the Danish Radio Symphony for another HMV 78. I've appended that title as a bonus.

HMV EP cover

The Malko recordings do not appear to relate to any production of the ballet, even though the HMV EP cover depicts Margot Fonteyn in the Royal Ballet's production. As far as I can tell, Malko never conducted one of the Sadler's Wells/Royal Ballet performances. They were primarily led by Lambert during the 1940s (with a few Beecham incursions), and by Robert Irving and John Hollingsworth in succeeding years. Irving himself recorded a two-disc Sleeping Beauty set with the Covent Garden orchestra in 1955. It appeared on the blog a few years ago and is still available here.

Lambert also recorded excerpts from the score, on two occasions: in conjunction with the 1939 Sadler's Wells production, called The Sleeping Princess, and in 1946 when The Sleeping Beauty was mounted by the ballet company in its new home, Covent Garden. One of my next posts will collect those recordings, along with the ballet music from Gounod's Faust as conducted by George Weldon - who himself taped a more-or-less complete version of Sleeping Beauty with the Philharmonia in 1956.

Returning to the Malko recording, I should note that the RCA transfer was about a half-step flat, which I've corrected. The LP was issued on the budget Bluebird label, so perhaps the company didn't expend as much care on the low-priced product as on its prestigious Red Seal mark. By the way, can anyone explain those black blobs enshrouding the lovers on the cover?

Update: Please see the post above this one, which delves into the question of whether the Sleeping Beauty excerpts contained on this record were really conducted by Malko - or by Lambert. (I think the likeliest answer is still Malko.) In the process, a kind reader has pointed out that the Sleeping Beauty transfer is still below score pitch - even though I adjusted it once - so I have readjusted it, and I think it is correct now - but please let me know if not!

Kurtz Conducts Shostakovich and Tchaikovsky

In the late 1940s, Dmitri Shostakovich's music had come under attack for formalism in the wake of the 1946 Zhdanov decree. It demanded that he and other composers write only music for the masses.

To comply, and to support himself, Shostakovich and his colleague Lev Avtomian came up with the idea of repackaging lighter music from the 1930s into suites. The first such Ballet Suite was published in 1949. It was followed by a second in 1951, and third and fourth suites in 1953.

Efrem Kurtz

It didn't take long for conductor Efrem Kurtz,  experienced in ballet and of Russian descent, to discover the music. When he did, he concocted his own version of music from the first two suites into what he called a Ballet Russe, which he and a New York studio orchestra recorded for Columbia in December 1952. As far as I can tell, this was the first recording of this music.

For whatever reason, the conductor changed the titles of most of the pieces from the published scores, and neither he nor Columbia saw fit to denote their sources.

With a little detective work, I was able to assemble a table (included in the download) that shows the names that Kurtz used, Shostakovich's names and the suite derivation, and the source material that Avtomian used for the music. For Kurtz's Ballet Russe, all of the source material dated from 1934, most of it from the ballet The Limpid Brook. From my spot checks, it appears that Kurtz employed Avtomian's arrangements.

Kurtz used five of the six pieces from Ballet Suite No. 1, eliminating the Romance, and five of the six from Ballet Suite No. 2, dropping the Spring Waltz.

Shostakovich (right) with East German leader Walter Ulbricht and wife Lotte, 1950.

The liner notes, while less than clear about the music's provenance, aptly describe it as "direct and simple and immediately appealing." The reading by Kurtz and his forces is light and sparkling. The conductor underplays any parody that Shostakovich intended in the work.

Young Bernard Greenhouse is the soloist in the "Serenade for Cello," and Robert Nagel in the "Romance for Trumpet." Nagel, then a freelancer, would found the New York Brass Quintet a few years later.

Gjon Mili's stroboscopic photo of Kurtz in action.
Sorry if this induces a headache.

Kurtz maintained his light touch even in the more brooding music of Tchaikovsky found on the second side of the LP. First up is the Sérénade mélancolique. Most often heard in violin and orchestra form - although it has been arranged for everything from cello to theremin - here it is performed in an orchestral arrangement of uncertain origin. Kurtz himself might be responsible; regardless of parentage, it works well.

The conductor follows this by programming the second movement of Tchaikovsky's First Symphony. (I believe it is somewhat cut.) The composer's early symphonies were not heard often at the time. Only Sevitzky (available on this blog), Rachmilovich and Ivanov had recorded the First at the time.

To add to the confusion that seems to be a theme on this record, Kurtz calls the work "Andante," even though the movement is marked Adagio and the composer titled it "Land of desolation, land of mists."

Just as the conductor's Sérénade is not overly mélancolique, his Andante is more contemplative than desolate. Tchaikovsky called the symphony "Winter Dreams" or "Winter Daydreams," so perhaps Kurtz's approach isn't too far off the mark.

Columbia's sound is pleasant, although it doesn't have much dynamic range and is over-reverberant. It may be an example of the "stairwell reverb" technique that Columbia engineers were using at the time. That involved playing the tapes in a stairwell and adding the reverb created to the final mix. It was not an unusual practice, but it worked better for pop music than orchestras. Note below that in 1956 Columbia promoted this record as one of its "Hi-Fi Landmarks!", so at least they were proud of it.

Click to enlarge

To return to Shostakovich, to my knowledge Kurtz recorded the composer's music three times - the Ninth Symphony with the New York Philharmonic, the Tenth with the Philharmonia, and this Ballet Russe. [Update: reader David Gideon notes that he also recorded the First Symphony for EMI, published by Capitol in the US.]


If you are interested in more of his Shostakovich, please visit my friend Bryan's Shellackophile blog. He hasn't published anything for the past year, but his previous posts are still on line, including his transfer of the Shostakovich Ninth mentioned above. Even though Bryan's item dates back to 2010, the links still work.

More Tchaikovsky from Indianapolis

Many of you enjoyed the recording of Manfred from the Indianapolis Symphony and Fabien Sevitzky, so here is another pseudonymous Tchaikovsky record from the same forces.

As I explained last time out, in the early 50s, RCA issued many old symphonic recordings on its budget Camden label under made-up names. In this instance, the Indianapolis orchestra became the "Sussex Symphony" and Sevitzky became anonymous.

Fabien Sevitzky

This particular recording was made late in the orchestra's tenure with RCA, in March 1946. By that time, the band had become a very good one, and this performance gave me much pleasure - but then I love the lesser Tchaikovsky symphonies. Here we have the first symphony, sometimes called Winter Dreams (or Winter Daydreams, as RCA has it).

Adding to the my pleasure is the simply miked, coherent recording, with just enough of the hall resonance to give the sound picture a vivid sense of reality. This type of recording could not be more out of style, but I find it very satisfying.

LINK to 2025 remaster