As the writer of the informative booklet for this disc,
Ian Julier, rightly states, this was a classic recording waiting to
happen. Koussevitzky had commissioned the orchestral transcription of
Mussorgsky’s highly original piano suite from Ravel in 1922. He conducted
the world premiere, in Paris, in October of that year, using an orchestra
made up of outstanding Parisian musicians of the day. Publication of
the full score in 1929 enabled this version to make swift international
headway, and it quickly superseded previous attempts at orchestration
by Tushmalov and Sir Henry Wood.
There is no doubting from the outset that this is great
music making, even though the recording is over seventy years old. A
friend of mine once made the point that listening to historic material
requires a subtly different sort of listening, and in a sense you are
forced into a more careful appraisal of the performances when hearing
it through the inevitable layer of surface noise. In fact, the restorations
that Ward Marston and, in this case, Mark Obert-Thorn, are performing
for Naxos’s Historic series are nothing short of miraculous. The sound
is full-bodied, detailed and wide-ranging, even in dated mono. Of course,
part of the success is down to Koussevitzky, whose ear for orchestral
balancing was legendary. The splendidly sonorous brass opening is an
indicator of fine things to come, and when the strings enter one realizes
why they were famous; the burnished tone and weight, from top to bottom,
is awesome. The Samuel Goldenberg episode is as fine as I’ve
heard and shows cellos and basses to rival anyone. The chattering woodwind
in the Ballad of the Chicks is a delight, and, needless to say,
the final Great Gate of Kiev crowns the whole reading
magnificently. Every lover of mainstream classical music will have a
version of this perennially popular work, but I guarantee this classic
account will make you hear with fresh ears.
The Koussevitzky Pictures has been available
before, of course, and in many ways with the most appropriate coupling
of all, Bartok’s Concerto for Orchestra, another of his
commissions and world premiere recordings. But these Ravel fill-ups
are also highly desirable, appropriate, and in much better sound than
Pictures, coming from a good fifteen or more years later. Many
of the orchestra members were still there, and the refinement of timbre
and virtuosity all but silence criticism. Sample the heady sound-world
Koussevitzky conjures up in the Rapsodie espagnole’s opening
Prélude à la nuit; his fabled reputation as a colourist
is also amply borne out in the wonderful Malagueña, one
of Ravel’s most inspired creations.
Mother Goose is as magical as any on the market,
and my only gripe concerns Boléro. The hypnotic rhythmic
pattern that Ravel creates, and which has to have an inexorable feel
about it, sounds a little ‘lumpy’, as if Koussevitzky were not entirely
convinced about the piece. Maybe this subconsciously transmits to some
of the players, as not all the solos are as persuasive as one would
like; sample the sloppy, rather tentative trombone entry (around 7.28)
to hear what I mean (there are more). Having said that, when those glorious
strings enter at 8.54, one can forgive almost anything.
A classic disc, then, and transferred with loving care
and craftsmanship. Admirers of this great musician will need no convincing,
and anyone who cares remotely about great orchestral playing need not
hesitate, especially at the giveaway price.
Tony Haywood
Serge Koussevitzky