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Rarities Volume 1

Tendelssohn · Gluck
Liszt · Tchaikovsky    

New transfers by Mark Obert-Thorn      

Recorded in 1950-53      

"The brilliant and sometimes ferocious Fritz Reiner in exquisite gems that generally elude his standard discography"

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PASC 235 

Mark Obert-Thorn turns his considerable prowess as a producer and restoration engineer upon a rare LP from the defunct Remington label, the brainchild of Laszlo Halasz and Don Gabor which existed 1950-1957.  The disc(s)--in fact the last sonata of Brahms had been coupled with some Hungarian Dances--are the complete Brahms violin sonatas played by America's own virtuoso Albert Spalding (1888-1953) and Hungarian composer-pianist Erno von Dohnanyi (1877-1960). While the Pristine issue lists the recording dates as 1951, the original liner notes written by Edward Tatnall Canby, suggest that these performances with Spalding were recorded in the fall of 1949 when Dohnanyi came to New York when visiting the United States - before he took up the post of professor at the Florida School of Music. [However, Mark Obert-Thorn feels the 1951 date is correct...Ed.] Whatever the discrepancy, we know that pianist Edward Kilenyi, a Dohnanyi protégé, served as Music Director for Remington until 1953, when he assumed a post at Florida State University.

Remington Records suffered from their cheap vinylite surfaces, and their records were noisy and prone to pitch fluctuations. Obert-Thorn restores the G Major Sonata to a "pristine" brilliance, capturing the fluent intimacy that emanates between the two collaborators. Spalding's is a throaty vibrant tone, quite expressive in the high registers, and he does over-emote his vibrato.  The rather dry approach suggests the influence of his early training in France. Dohnanyi's technique certainly is not what it had been in his heyday, but his expressive powers and sense of drama remain undiminished. They drive the first movement of the G Major rather hard, less for sentiment than for its classical architecture of bittersweet affects nostalgically recalled. The lines in the latter pages become quite long and elastic, intimate and heroic at once. The E-flat Major Adagio moves at a studied tempo, rife with powerful, often dark emotion, especially considering that it was conceived as a testimonial to his late godson, Felix Schumann, son of the composer Robert. The rainy-day motif adopted from the "Regenlied" song becomes heavy and funereal, Spalding's tone thick and raspy in the manner of a viola in high register. The final Rondo in G--with its cyclic allusions to the second movement--conveys a poignant lyricism, the dotted rhythms of the "rain" motif now become even more passionately wistful.

The A Major "Thun" Sonata (1886) remains the most relaxed of the set, composed as it was on Swiss holiday. Though the tempo remains rather staid and stately in the opening Allegro amabile, the keyboard work from Dohnanyi proves gracious and lovely, a close rival to the spectacular rendition of the part by Mieczyslaw Horszowski in his recording on Mercury with Joseph Szigeti. If shyness and introspection mark the general tenor of the movement, its few piquant bursts of emotion come as minute flames in the midst of a distant sunset. Spalding plays the bucolic Andante tranquillo with admirable restraint, though he does not ream in aloof in the succeeding Vivace section, where a flirtatious dalliance resides. The last movement, Allegro grazioso, permits us to savor Spalding's sustained legato. Soulfully played, the music has its middle section burst of passion made more potent by the contrast the two artists create in the placid outer figurations of this most self-assured rondo.

The 1887 D Minor Sonata has a wonderful collaboration here in Spalding and Dohnanyi. The shifting contours--between D Minor and F Major--resonate with fiery passion on virtually every page, the syncopes adding to the jarring nervous quality of the emotions. Note Spalding's old-world hesitation on the cadence endings of the secondary theme. Spalding's bariolage technique over the sustained A pedal proves effective, the harmonic-rhythm slowed to a dramatic crawl. Dohnanyi applies the directions to subito forte with pungency but no shatter in the recorded sound. The recapitulation and fading chords into D Major flow with plastic aplomb and complete musical serenity of style. Spalding reveals the nice legato charms of the Adagio, a cavatina conceived in mostly Lydian harmonies on G and C. Spalding's rising passages achieve an intense culmination, his trills leading us back to a stately and dignified rendition of the theme that serves as a coda. Dohnanyi reigns in the F-sharp Minor scherzino, at least until Spalding's violin develops an impassioned response to the skittish syncopations that have preceded it. The stops are pulled out for the fiery Presto agitato, a drama of volatile passion in a form similar to a Northern tarantella. The four-beat, four measure motif becomes obsessive, even manic, building with inexorable fury, tumbling, and renewing itself. The dynamic contrasts, the emotional upheavals, each flow with singular character and fierce resolve.

As a testament from two aging musicians who retrieve a lost world of Romantic ethos, the disc lives as an invaluable treasure, much to our inestimable delight.

PACM 078 - Brahms Sonatas   

William Walton's only full-length opera Troilus and Cressida (1947-1954), after the story by Chaucer, remains a problem child in the composer's creative history. For the original production, conductor Malcolm Sargent proved as much a hindrance as an ally, sadly under-prepared for the rehearsals and too vain to wear eyeglasses that would have aided in his reading of the parts still in manuscript, he delivered a lackluster performance with cast members who themselves remained unhappy with him. For this April 18-20 May 1955 mono inscription for EMI, Elisabeth Schwarzkopf had her own misgivings about singing in English. In the actual stage premier, Cressida fared no better with soprano Magda Laszlo, who spoke no English at all. Walton, writing in tonal and lyrical style, alienated contemporary critics who wanted serially-based contours and claimed that Walton achieved success "only at the expense of his individuality," referring to Walton's Wagner or Puccini models for this often slow and meditative drama.

Richard Lewis is in good voice for his opening aria, "Is Cressida a slave?", his diction clear and his vocal stamina intact. In this scene and the following "Slowly it all comes back," we hear strong stylistic allusions to Richard Strauss, particularly Salome. Given the natural affinity of the plot to Wagner's Tristan--with its own version of love-death when Cressida dies rather than endure life with Diomede--the essentially conservative nature of the harmonic scheme adds little to the composer's syntax, which had been more daring in his First Symphony. Schwarzkopf's aria "How can I sleep?", despite the natural lyricism of her voice, projects a static quality because of the clichés of the idiom: "How can I sleep while love is waiting?" seems a poor man's answer to "Nessun dorma" even in the face of Schwarzkopf's high notes. The love scene ensues with "If one last doubt remains," in which Troilus asks permission "to kneel and adore."  At "Come alive in my arms," the orchestra aids in Cressida's conceit that "in my heart the yellow leaves are turning green." In their mutual passion, the lovers beseech the blessed assistance of Aphrodite. "Now close your arms" serves as the Liebesnacht, the lovers a mutual sanctuary from political and personal encroachments, even if the passionate orchestral part does not completely agree.

The scoring for the extended scene, "All's well," seems to derive from both Mahler's The Song of the Earth and Prokofiev's Alexander Nevsky. Cressida expresses her wavering faith in Troilus' fidelity, and her servant Evadne (Monica Sinclair) offers cold comfort. The descending scale sounds virtually like Tchaikovsky despite the battery's attempts to modernize the sonority. Cressida's final plea to see once more her beloved with his sword, armed to defend her love and honor, indeed projects some authentic pathos. "The Watchman's cry and the wind in the long grass blowing" survive as Cressida's only consolation. The shrieks that accompany the final scene, "Diomede! Father!" echo Richard Strauss once more, but Walton avoids Sprechstimme for a mournful parlando style that plays as coloratura recitative in imitation of Debussy's Pelleas. It seems that Walton simply has not been able to transcend his influences in this opera, and he swore he never again indulge in a medium that demands "too many words!"

Walton composed his Partita for Orchestra as part of the fortieth year celebration of the Cleveland Orchestra, and George Szell led the premier 30 January 1958. Walton's stereo recording from 6 and 16 February 1959 resonates with hearty energy and vibrant orchestration. Each of the movements showcases the orchestral vigor of the ensemble, and the Philharmonia of London certainly meets all virtuoso demands. The opening Toccata imbibes something of Walton's own ceremonial music for coronations and the Olivier film Henry V. The second movement Pastorale Siciliana at first echoes Respighi in its invocation of Baroque sensibilities, but it goes its own way into sarcastic riffs that ally it to the composer's familiar Façade Suite. Trumpet, trombone, and percussion collaborate to make the Giga burlesca a gaudily festive Neapolitan romp that might make us compare Walton with a modern Rossini.

PASC 286 Walton