It’s
splendid that these Nixa discs are once more back in the
catalogue. I believe they saw some life back in the late
1980s with transfers by Mike Dutton but those have, in
any case, long been unavailable. Scherchen takes on rather
Stokowski-like repertoire here – Berlioz, Rimsky and Tchaikovsky
and in the case of second composer, certainly, he proves
a formidable guide. His Berlioz has divided critics for
half a century and that’s not likely to change, however
attractive the presentation – and it is extremely attractive
with full colour artwork depicting the original LP sleeves,
some excellent photographs and useful ancillary material
in the form of critical commentary. This is one of Tahra’s
increasingly valuable “book” sets – the four CDs and text
and artwork housed in book form, ten inches tall.
Scherchen’s
Antar is a treat. He achieves some evocative colouring
from all the sections of the LSO, a band not then otherwise
in the rudest of technical health. But it plays splendidly
for him – warm and evocative cellos, scampering flautists,
a well-balanced (that is not over prominent) harp and in
the largo sections of the first movement some estimable
wind and violin phrasing. He is incisive in the dramatic
music and languorous and warm in the slower – especially
of course the “love” music of the slow movement. Crisp
rhythm galvanises the March and the finale has some sensual
string cantilena and a real sense of emotive engagement.
Coupled with it is La Grande Paque Russe which is
cannily paced – quite a slow start – and which once again
shows off the LSO principals; is that George Stratton as
leader? The brass is suitably saturnine, the leader of
the cellos shines, and the whole thing is extrovert without
becoming Technicolor. The Capriccio Espagnol impresses
the more for not being remotely gaudy.
Another
disc gives us Scherchen’s Tchaikovsky. Romeo and Juliet conforms
to the standard Scherchen polarity – fast is very fast
and slow is very slow. This makes for rather an episodic
ride and the kinds of exaggeration to be found rather rule
it out of court, except to admirers of the conductor and
those who welcome such licence. Nevertheless it should
be stressed that Scherchen is an exciting and properly
incisive Tchaikovskian and that much here is, despite the
strictures, enjoyable and passionate. Marche Slave was,
if not a novelty, then rather unusual repertoire for the
early fifties and Scherchen does well by it, having less
opportunity to deviate. There’s nothing really problematic
about his handling of Capriccio Italien nor of the 1812
Overture. I can add one addition to the track details
regarding the latter – amidst the bluster and grapeshot
we can hear the (uncredited) Band of the Irish Guards.
After
the unreservedly recommended Rimsky and the more problematic
Tchaikovsky we come to Berlioz, of which there are two
discs. The Symphonie fantastique is one of the most
famous of the echt-Scherchen discs currently available.
It bears his indelible mark as to rhythm and tempo relation
and remains a highly inflammable artefact. It’s a powerfully
personalised reading and speaks of Scherchen’s typically
concentrated approach. But the sforzandi tend to grate
and the rhythmic eccentricities will be a cause of concern – the
Ball is particularly lugubrious and there is rather a sense
of a lack of atmosphere. Part of that may be to do with
the original recording, which doesn’t show the LSO in nearly
as good a light as Antar – but certainly not all.
We
also have Harold in Italy with Frederick Riddle,
principal violist of the RPO, in their only outing of the
set. I once read an article by some hapless American which
referred to Riddle as a “competent” player, rather as if
one were to refer to Szymon Goldberg as an “adequate” violinist.
In fact Riddle was a superb instrumentalist, though his
live Edinburgh recording with Beecham on BBC Classics is
far superior as a performance though far inferior with
respect to sound to this one. Scherchen is rather dogged
here and can’t compare with Beecham’s incisive shaping
of phrases and paragraphs. In fact the opening sounds more
like a Bach Passion than Berlioz. Riddle plays with flexibility
and fine tone for Scherchen but with far greater flair
and personality for his own conductor, Beecham – not least
in matters of timbral variety, phrasal elasticity and dynamic
flexibility. Still, listening to the two makes for fruitful
comparison; Beecham’s contemporaneous commercial disc with
Primrose remains the best recorded and most centrally recommendable
of his own contributions. But the live Riddle has great
flair, if imperfect sound – coughs, veiled sound et al.
There
is some tape hiss present – you’ll notice it in Antar,
though you’ll equally be swept up in the performance and
will cease to notice. Otherwise the restorations have been
well done and the documentation, as indicated, is a pleasure
to see. Scherchen lovers will speedily sweep up this set.
Jonathan Woolf
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Band of
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