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SAMMONS Piano Trio Recordings
Albert Sammons, violin Lionel Tertis, viola William H. Squire, cello William Murdoch, piano recorded in 1925 & 1926 All downloads half price for a week of these wonderful early electrical recordings by Albert Sammon, featuring W. H. Squire on cello in the Beethoven: MENDELSSOHN Piano Trio No. 2 BEETHOVEN Piano Trio No. 7 in B flat, "Archduke" PACM 073 "Most notable ... is the frequent application of portamento and rubato in the Mendelssohn. The Beethoven "Archduke" (generally referred to now as No. 6 rather than 7) is given a more disciplined performance, one that is commanding in its animation and freedom from some of the excesses of playing in the Mendelssohn. Those interested in the history of performance practices should make a point of hearing it."
Fanfare, 2011
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Offer Expires:
Friday 30th August
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REVIEW
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by Ralph Moore
"Wagnerians everywhere have reason to be grateful to Pristine for resurrecting these justly celebrated performances"
Given that we have had over sixty years to debate the various comparative merits of Furtwängler's two live, Italian "Ring" cycles, I should first acknowledge that received wisdom opines that this 1950 La Scala "Ring" is the more incandescent. It is a stage performance rather than a series of concerts, and is, on balance and by a narrow margin, better cast but worse recorded.
This XR re-mastering from Pristine certainly puts paid to the that last objection; I soon found myself completely absorbed by the performance and quite forgetful of the sound problems in previous issues which have for many audiophiles rendered a great account almost unlistenable. I know that I first heard it in the 1970s on a set of LPs from the "Everest" label. The fact that I soon offloaded them speaks for itself. The LP issue from "Murray Hill" is by all accounts no better and both are wildly off-pitch. Although Andrew Rose cannot compensate for the inevitable tape disintegration in the masters, he has been able to do a great deal of tidying and even reduce the odd percussive cough so we can now hear Furtwängler's special gift of making the music really "sing seethe or melt" as Deryck Cooke so vividly described it. He is unmatched by any rival conductor in his ability to convey his deep understanding of how Wagner's themes and leitmotifs interrelate and derive from each other. He confers an arcing, architectural, compositional intensity on the whole "Ring", reflecting its unity as a true "Gesamtkunstwerk". However, no amount of fine re-engineering can eliminate one persistent irritation. This is the constant, relentless, pitiless coughing from a La Scala audience who were clearly all heavy smokers and so unacquainted with Wagner as to find the more demanding passages less than absorbing. They are especially bronchial during the orchestral introduction to "Zu neuen Taten". By contrast, the invited RAI audience was angelically placid until the time came for applause. Obviously the La Scala recordings provide a broader, more theatrical acoustic whereas the RAI broadcasts are narrower with voices more forward. That said, comparison with Pristine's own excellent re-mastering of the RAI cycle also reveals that Andrew Rose has been able to uncover a far richer, deeper, more rounded sound for La Scala from a master tape which was evidently recorded at considerably higher volume than the RAI one. You can even hear pages of music being turned in between the hacking. Neither orchestra will ever sound voluptuous but now you can properly hear Furtwängler's intent to shape key phrases beautifully. Try, for example his exquisite moulding of the music which denotes the bond of love between the Volsungs in Act of "Die Walküre". The climax to that act is stupendous, despite a blooper from the brass coming in a bar early on "Wälsungen Blut". Similarly, he makes the "Magic Fire Music" dance in just the way Barenboim does not and the conclusion to "Götterdämmerung" becomes the overwhelming, cosmic experience it should be. I should mention a further consideration for purists: Furtwängler sanctioned two sizeable cuts in the La Scala performances, one in Wotan's second-act monologue in "Die Walküre" and another in the Siegfried-Wanderer confrontation in "Siegfried". Neither seems to me to be of great importance but those who care about such things should stick with RAI. Apart from these two sets, the other cycle which deserves consideration is the often overlooked and excellent one directed by Rudolf Moralt. This was recorded in war-scarred Vienna between 1948 and 1949 and featured many of the singers heard in Milan a year later. In my previous review of the RAI cycle, regarding Furtwängler's conducting I wrote, "In Milan, he is more driven and even at times manic, whereas in Rome the mood is broader and more brooding. His tempi at La Scala are almost as fast as Böhm's at Bayreuth in the 1966-67 Philips recording; here at RAI the tone for the whole cycle is loftier and more deliberate, although never dull." In that review, I was also minded to redress what I saw as somewhat unjust criticism of the RAI orchestra. I stand by that verdict but following my recent listening to this restored La Scala "Ring" I think it must now clearly be adjudged superior to the RAI; this especially as the singers, too, are inspired by the atmosphere of a live performance. The great bonus of the 1950 "Ring" is the presence of Flagstad, here 54 years old. She is shorn of a few top notes but still hits all four top Cs in Act 2 of "Die Walküre" and both in the duet which concludes "Siegfried", even if the second one is only touched on. She takes the optional low A flat in the closing note. By this stage, Set Svanholm, too, is understandably tiring, yelping a few top notes and inevitably playing second fiddle to a fresher Flagstad but that extended, half-hour duet remains thrilling. We are otherwise privileged to hear her only extant complete Brünnhilde sung in sovereign voice. The middle of the voice occasionally curdles into a matronly tone but she is rock-steady and for the most part the top still rings out nobly. Varnay for Krauss and Mödl for Furtwängler in 1953 were both great vocal actresses but for many, despite a certain marmoreal imperturbability, Flagstad's vocal amplitude carries the day. The other major singer common to both Furtwängler cycles and indeed to the Moralt set, is Ferdinand Frantz as Wotan. He had a big, grand, brazen bass-baritone but is in fresher and more expressive voice in 1950, wholly commanding and riding the orchestra at the end of "Die Walküre" but also softening his tone to bid his beloved daughter farewell. For some, the tenors in the La Scala "Ring" jointly constitute a comparative blot on the set. Certainly by modern standards none is less than good and we would be happy to hear any of them. Treptow was a fine Tristan for Knappertsbusch and excellent throughout for Moralt. Here he undertakes an almost too virile Froh and a first-rate Siegmund. His tone can be metallic and his delivery sometimes percussive but he is credibly heroic. Set Svanholm copes manfully with Siegfried and shines in the forging scene. He is never really imposing but nor is he ever an embarrassment. Max Lorenz's Siegfried is decidedly worn, despite his being only 48 at the time. The middle of his voice is hollow and he has largely lost the famous ring although the top notes, even the sustained top C on "Hoiho!"is still - just - there. On balance, Suthaus in 1953 is decidedly better than Lorenz and there isn't that much to choose between Windgassen, Svanholm and Treptow. For me, despite his fine voice, compared with Frantz, Josef Hermann is not very successful as the Wanderer in "Siegfried". His neat, lightish baritone is simply miscast; his voice is not the kind to make us believe that it has the heft to summon Erda from the depths. Höngen is a bit unsteady as both Fricka and Erda but she is marvellously acute with the text. Likewise, Ludwig Weber is rocky but imposing in no fewer than four roles: Fasolt, Hunding, the Dragon Fafner and Hagen. Konetzni's bell-like soprano creates a spirited Sieglinde who is no milksop. She is a little careful but touching as Gutrune. The Rhine daughters at La Scala are less starry than those for RAI, missing Jurinac, but still very fine. Both Donners are good but Mattiello has more ring to his tone than Poell. Sattler's experienced Loge has less sap to his voice than Windgassen but he makes a plausibly wily intellectual. All Furtwängler's singers were hand-picked by him, so none is less than good whichever performance you favour, although I still demur at his choice of Wanderer. Documentation is minimal and no libretto is provided. However downloads include full scores of each of the operas which can be either viewed on-screen or printed out as desired. There is one technical issue which is obviously an oversight: at 2:58 in track 16, CD 4 of "Siegfried" there is an editing jump which will need correction. Wagnerians everywhere have reason to be grateful to Pristine for resurrecting these justly celebrated performances.
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CONTENTS
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This Week How can we tell we're not getting snake oil? Squire Classic cello concertos and encores
PADA More exclusives coming soon
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Hi-fi reviews - might they let snake oil slither through?
Plus W. H. Squire - considered "old fashioned" by the 1920s...
This week's new release
 | | W. H. Squire |
Some 115 years ago, this week's featured artist began his professional recording career. There aren't many musicians we can say that about! In fact, William Henry Squire was probably the very first serious musician in Britain to embrace the new recording technology. The cellist recorded many sides in the acoustic era, and his 1926 recording of the Saint-Saëns Concerto No. 1 was the first electrical recording to be made by Columbia. Yet although he was to continue performing into the early 1940s, even by the late twenties his style was considered somewhat antiquated. For the modern listener this makes him all the more interesting, for he opens a window onto a solo playing style that really has its roots firmly in the 19th century, pre-dating the likes of Casals and Feuermann by a generation or more. The 1930 Gramophone review of Squire's Elgar concerto, reproduced below, gives some indication of critical opinion of this style - though one senses the reviewer is as much concerned with the still relatively-unknown work itself, from a still-living and recording composer. What he was not to know was that it would be another three decades or so before the Elgar Cello Concerto was really taken to the hearts of the music-loving public, thanks to a then unborn Jacqueline Du Pre... But returning to Squire, I thought it worth finishing by passing this thought on from Mark Obert-Thorn, who commented to me by e-mail having read the Elgar review: It's interesting to see that even in 1930, Squire was being criticized for using too much portamento. It's probably one of the reasons why he wasn't asked to make any more recordings; he was considered too old-fashioned, even by then. Yet, I can't entirely agree with the criticisms of his tone. I compared his Saint-Saens' The Swan to both Casals and Feuermann, and Squire's seemed to me to be more emotionally affecting. His pacing, helped by the fact that Columbia allowed him the extravagance of a 12-inch side for the piece (as opposed to the other two, who only got 10-inch sides) is wonderfully broad and subtle. I think it's the most beautiful version I've heard, and I hope others will agree. Do we get the component reviews we deserve?
""Snake oil" is an expression that originally referred to fraudulent health products or unproven medicine but has come to refer to
any product with questionable or unverifiable quality or benefit." - Wikipedia
This month's Gramophone magazine arrived electronically earlier this week, and I was drawn to a review in the hi-fi section of a music streaming device made by a Canadian company, Bryston. I suppose that the component in question - it's essentially a PC that looks like a hi-fi separate - sits rather uncomfortably in a conventional hi-fi review, but I do question the product and Gramophone's almost entirely uncritical assessment of it, whilst making a mental note in passing that Gramophone reviews of the past would include technical analysis, graphs, and some quite harsh criticism where deserved - something that's been absent (in my experience) for many a year now. But what made me sit up and take notice was that here, once again, we appear to have something simple, dressed up in hi-fi clothing, and passed off at what I consider to be an extortionate price - £2500 - that's entirely at odds with what it really is. The Bryston BDP-2, as far as I can tell from the review and literature on the company's website, is a cut-price PC dressed up as a luxury hi-fi component. It's based around a set of cheap components, and runs under Linux, a free operating system. It has no video output, relying instead on an iPad app, an (optional) remote control or a web browser on the same network to control it, so has no need of video chippery, thus saving manufacturing costs. The sole output is an optical digital port. In short it's considerably less functional and less powerful than the totally silent €200 PC I put together last year, whilst costing nearly 15 times as much. That, I suggest, is a lot to pay for something that's main selling point appears to be that it's in a box designed to make it look "hi-fi". The nearest the Gramophone reviewer gets to any real criticism is this: "Coming to the Brystons from more conventional network music player/NAS combinations required a little familiarisation but the clear network control applications helped no end in finding my way around things. It took me a little while to work out how to access my NAS storage and even longer for the unit to load all of the music on my storage devices, but we got there in the end..." Hmm. I'm not exactly wowed, but nor am I surprised. No mention though of the fact that you're being asked to spend the kind of money on a crippled, low-end PC that makes the average top-end Apple Mac look like a bargain? No indication as to why or how this unit offers any advantages over other similar products? The box is designed to pair with the Bryston BDA-2, a digital-to-analogue converter that can replay at up to 192kHz/24-bit resolution. Like its companion component, it costs £2500. You'll need a converter of some description to use the digital music player as it has no analogue outputs of its own. The two Brystons together therefore cost £5000 - which is €5823 or $7777 at today's exchange rate. Not a small amount to pay for a bargain-basement computer and a jumped-up sound card - in my opinion. Of course it may well sound rather good - I really don't know as I've not heard it. Certainly the Gramophone reviewer gets to wax lyrical: "The sound quality of the pair is every bit as impressive as one has come to expect from Bryston: the balance here is fresh and wide open, making it highly revealing of detail in high-resolution recordings, while at the same time good power and definition in the bass enables the duo to play anything from 320kbps internet radio streams to hi-res content from an external (or indeed internal) drive with equal weight, warmth and conviction. Playing some Bach streaming from the Audiophile Baroque internet station, the Bryston made a perfectly good background source while I read the various manuals and got everything running as I wanted; switching to solo piano and then orchestral recordings at 24-bit/192kHz showed just what the Brystons could do when it comes to creating beautifully credible, totally unforced sound stage pictures before the listener. With its multiple drive connections and computer control interface, the Bryston BDP-2 may look like a very 'technical' approach to playing music but the sound is anything but mechanical. Instead there's a presentation you can relax into if you want, but which at the same time is perfectly capable of pinning you back in your seat with its sheer power or holding your attention completely with the fine detail of a recording." But what am I actually getting for my money? Where's the analysis? What chippery resides inside a £2500 sound card, masquerading as a hi-fi unit? Why should I spend £2500 on a PC based around an Intel Atom chip running Linux and shipping without a hard drive or graphics chip? The review raises more questions than it answers, and makes no attempt to compare the product with any other either at any price point. And here we come to the problem with modern digital music reproduction and the hi-fi industry: Back in the days when everything was analogue and expensive precision engineering could wring a clearly superior sound, at some expense, from the grooves of a vinyl LP, they had something to write about, test, compare and critique. Today the cost of the key components in even the very finest digital-to-analogue converters is marginal - a few tens of dollars at most, and often less than that. A digital music player is really just a piece of computer code running on a low-cost PC. And 99% of the population can't distinguish between a 24-bit 192kHz recording and the same thing converted to 16-bit 320kbps MP3. Perhaps the only way to distinguish your company's music player from any other when it comes to listening tests, might be to tweak it so that it doesn't deliver the original sound, but gives instead one that's been deliberately "sweetened" in software to sound "better"? Of course I do not have any evidence to suggest that any hi-fi manufacturers are actually doing this, and certainly not Bryston. But it strikes me now that we've reached the end of the road with so many components; that so many of them should sound identical; that the whole hi-fi game outside of the spheres of amplification and loudspeaker reproduction is effectively at the end of the road. You can't tease more out of a digital stream of zeros and ones like you could with a vinyl groove because it's not there, and the technology to convert these into an analogue waveform has been matured and mass-produced down to negligible cost. These things quite simply shouldn't cost this much - and when they do we deserve to know why. But Gramophone can "review" two boxes, neither of which can play anything on its own, say little that any way tells you anything genuinely useful about the product that couldn't be found in a press release, and call it their Product of the Month. I find that rather disappointing, especially given the magazine's heritage in this field. There's a whole new world of music players that need a proper, clear and honest explanation for potential buyers and they're not getting it. A massive opportunity exist to pull the wool from the eyes of consumers; instead certain magazines appear to prefer to collude with the manufacturers to muddy the waters and keep everyone at worst a little confused, at best, unenlightened. So does this qualify as hi-fi "snake oil"? Perhaps. Perhaps not. I'm sure the components do what they claim to do. I'm sure they do it very competently. But I simply cannot know anything about the "quality or benefit" of these products when compared with others at a fraction of the price, as neither issue appears to have been verified - or even addressed - by Gramophone's glowing review. And for me that certainly has just a whiff of ye olde digital huile de serpent about it... Andrew Rose 23 August 2013
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Early electrical recordings from WH Squire - one of the first "serious" musicians ever to record
"There is in this recording some excellent orchestral tone, and the 'cello comes off very well"
- The Gramophone, 1930
W. H. Squire
Elgar & Saint-Saëns Cello Concertos
Plus encores by Bach, Handel, Mozart, Wagner et al W. H. Squire, cello Hallé Orchestra/Harty
Recorded 1926-29
Producer and Audio Restoration Engineer:
Mark Obert-Thorn
Web page: PASC 393 Notes On this recording Cellist, composer and pedagogue William Henry Squire was born in Herefordshire in 1871. He studied at the Royal College of Music in London and with Carlo Alfredo Piatti, making his debut in 1891. He played as principal cellist in several London orchestras in addition to his solo career and composed many short works.
Squire's discography extends back to the very beginnings of the recording industry in Britain. He cut his first sides for the Gramophone Company in London in 1898, becoming the first instrumentalist of repute to embrace the new medium. Throughout the Teens and Twenties, he was a mainstay of the Columbia catalog, recording many short works (often accompanied at the piano by Hamilton Harty) as well as chamber music.
In 1926, he made Columbia's first concerto recording using the new electrical process, the Saint-Saëns presented here. This and the Elgar were to be his only concertos on disc. Although a 1931 session produced two sides, they remain unreleased. The Bach and Popper selections from 1929 are his last issued recordings, even though he continued to perform publicly until 1941. He died in 1963 at the age of 91.
Collectors familiar with Squire's Saint-Saëns concerto set know it as the one with "all bass and no top", at least when played back using a recording curve typical of the period. By transferring it with a flat equalization and building up the frequency emphases from the bottom up, however, I have been able to get a more natural result, although the sound is still not state-of-the-art, even for its time.
By contrast, the original engineering of the Elgar concerto is superb for its date, sounding like recordings made several years later. I was helped in its transfer by the use of first-edition white label English Columbia test pressings, whose presence and detail eclipsed even the fine American Columbia "Full-Range" copy with which I compared it. An American Columbia "Viva-Tonal" set was used for the Saint-Saëns concerto, while the solo sides with piano came from early English pressings and the two sides with organ from a mid-1930s American edition. Mark Obert-Thorn Review Elgar Cello Concerto, 1930 The early recording of the Elgar concerto was by Miss Harrison, the L.S.O. being conducted by the composer (H.M.V.). This was got on to three discs. For this cheap album edition we are grateful. Eleven years ago the work disappointed some, but only, I think, because it was so different from other concertos. It comes from Elgar's late chamber music period, and has some of the chamber music way of thought. Mr. Squire is not quite my ideal in capturing the spiritual qualities of the music. The recording is loud, firm, solid, and the soloist comes out too much, in the older concerto way, instead of blending with the orchestra in a way that so finely distinguishes the best performance of the music. I remember the 1919 début, when Mr. Salmond had a hard time of it with the band, yet won for the work the acknowledgment that it was something to live with and learn-learn, maybe, that the riches of concerto form are not yet exhausted, while we have a supreme master to mould the form anew and breathe into it his own fresh imaginative life. There is in this recording some excellent orchestral tone, and the 'cello comes off very well in a broad way ; but Mr. Squire's way of life is not Elgar's ; he does not seem to me to get below the surface ; and without that one might easily know little of the riches to be mined there. To use a word-play, they are mind-riches indeed-mind and heart marvellously combining to fuse them into rare metal. I am glad to praise such parts of the performance as allow the more obvious 'cello activities to shine, as on side three. Mr. Squire's tendency to uso portamento freely is again in evidence. Portamento is the 'cellist's dangerous friend ; and it may easily become cheap. We sympathise with his long journeys on those strings ! A friend who puts a head in at the door at this moment, when the big sweeping tune is going off (end of side three), says, rather unkindly, one word : "Coliseum" ; but adds in qualification "But that tune does ask for it a bit, doesn't it?" I agree : but there's everything in the way you grant what is asked. In a word, this is a work demanding subtlety, refinement, variety of tone (in which Mr. Squire is not notably rich), possibly oven a Puckish spirit, with a dash of Gerontius, and, very strikingly, the partnership sense with the orchestra (whose part, by the way, may easily be under-estimated, for it is often slight in texture). It needs, too, a bit of the demonic-a kind of sublimated demon, if you see what I mean-a spiritualised, but, as it were, electrified demon - rarefied and yet not thin or stalky. Elgar, in this work, goes further than usual outside his most readily label-able qualities, yet the result does not cease to be Elgar in every bar. As I read what I have just written, I doubt whether I have given up truly what I feel in my bones. Mostly one can, by pausing and searching for words, get somewhere near that; but I feel a difficulty in describing this concerto, and am very anxious that those who do not happen to have heard it performed several times should not think less highly of it than, I am persuaded, it deserves. So if you have not the H.M.V. (which I am compelled to count a good deal better than this), by all means speculate eighteen shillings. If you can also hear someone like Miss Harrison (possibly inclined to over-sentimentalise it, I think) or Mr. Salmond, do so. I wish there were more 'cellists who would play the work. Tertis has arranged it for viola, but some of its special flavour departs then. Don't give it up as unsatisfactory. I might perhaps add that it is easy enough to follow. The danger lies, I think, in possibly thinking that its slightness of texture, and its difference from show-concertos, mean that it lacks interest or power. It is a work about which I should particularly like to have the opinions of music lovers of all kinds. Perhaps some representative members, say, of the N.G.S., will drop the Editor a word about it? W. R. Anderson, The Gramophone, November 1930 Review of Columbia 78s
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