AVAILABILITY 
                www.biddulphrecordings.com 
              
One of the more obscure corners of the discography 
                is happily collated in this intriguing collection from Biddulph. 
                Collectors will know Hans Kindler primarily, I suppose, as a cellist 
                and one who gave recitals with Rachmaninov and Ravel and concertos 
                with Monteux and Furtwängler. He was the principal cellist 
                in Stokowski’s Philadelphia Orchestra in its early days but once 
                the First War was over he resumed his solo career, making a number 
                of sides for Victor. Like Barbirolli slightly before him the cellist 
                was soon to turn conductor and by 1931 he had formed the National 
                Symphony Orchestra in Washington and in 1940 they began to record. 
                The major fruits were the third symphonies of Brahms and Tchaikovsky 
                – fine, important recordings. But they also recorded lighter fare 
                and that is what we’re given here in what is I believe their first 
                silver disc appearance. 
              
 
              
I think it’s clear that Kindler based his orchestral 
                sonorities and expressive nuances on Stokowski’s Philadelphians. 
                The repertoire here is also not so very far way from that propounded 
                by the more famous conductor and orchestra. The Frescobaldi is 
                stirring and resonant, the strings full and rich in full romanticised 
                fashion, akin to Stoky’s Bach (it matters not that it’s not by 
                Frescobaldi at all but by Kindler’s fellow cellist, the Catalan 
                Cassado). The Dutch Tunes could well be bracketed with say Respighi’s 
                Ancient Airs and Dances but they were just as likely to have been 
                influenced by Stokowski’s Two Ancient Liturgical Melodies – but 
                I love the contrast between he generates between full orchestral 
                power and the ripieno section in the first of the Tunes. The Handel 
                is probably better known in its Elgarian Overture guise but gets 
                a spirited, rather different and successful reading here. As a 
                twentieth century counterblast there’s Weinberger’s delightful 
                Czech Rhapsody – graceful, vibrant, 
                perky, with brassy horns and Dvořákian Slavonic dance motifs. 
                It gets a snorter of a performance; great fun. The Mussorgsky 
                bathes in the sonorous Washington strings and the Chadwick is 
                derived from the four Symphonic Sketches. Kindler evokes the nativity 
                affection of it, the glad warmth and sensitivity. Dai-Keong Lee 
                was born in Honolulu in 1915 and when this recording was made, 
                he was in the army. Stern, colourful, rhythmically vivacious it’s 
                also slightly spiced with degrees of exotica – to that extent 
                it plays the same role in Kindler’s orchestral life that, say, 
                Harl Macdonald did in Stokowski’s. Mary Howe’s Stars is a memorable 
                piece of evocative impressionism, beautifully played, and we end 
                with Schuman’s Academic Festival Overture. This is a high-spirited 
                romp, pungent and with some internal contrasts, a lusty fugato 
                and drum tattoos. This is its world premiere recording. 
              
 
              
The excellent notes are by Stokowski authority 
                Edward Johnson and Mark Obert-Thorn provides further quality in 
                matters of transfer. This is a fine and well-timed celebration 
                of the musical life of a now unjustly forgotten musician. 
              
 
              
Jonathan Woolf