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            Antonín DVOŘÁK 
              (1841-1904)  
              Symphony No. 9 in E minor From the New World, B178 Op.95 
              (1893) [42:03]  
              Pyotr Ilyich TCHAIKOVSKY (1840-1893) 
              Nutcracker Suite Op.71 (1891-92) [21:58]  
              Johann Sebastian BACH (1685-1750) 
               
              Toccata and Fugue in D Minor BWV 565 [9:02] 
                
              Leopold Stokowski and his Symphony Orchestra 
              rec.1947 (Bach, New World), 34th Street Studios, NYC, 
              and November 1934, Church Studio No.2, Camden, NJ (Tchaikovsky) 
               
                
              DUTTON CDBP 9803 [72:23]   
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                  There are worse things to do than listen to Stokowski’s Dvořák 
                  New World. As admirers of the conductor will know he 
                  had a long running discographic love affair with the symphony. 
                  There were numerous attempts to get things down on disc or tape 
                  over the years. If you’re a real, probably sleepless and obsessive 
                  Stokowskian you will know of the unpublished 1917 acoustic of 
                  the third movement, the 1919 abridged second movement (a 1921 
                  recording of the same was never issued), and then the reduced 
                  band 1925. Soon after that came a 1927 remake, then the famed 
                  1934 - all these with the Philadelphia obviously - and then 
                  the 1940 All American, the one disinterred by Cala and the subject 
                  of this review, and after that recordings with the American 
                  Symphony in 1967 (unpublished) and the 1973 New Philharmonia. 
                   
                   
                  Realistically and sonically we can note that the 1925 early 
                  electric was buffeted by tuba reinforcements and is something 
                  of a trial but the rapid remake two years later was more like 
                  it. It’s a question of taste as to which others you will prefer 
                  - the 1940 All American, 1947 his Symphony Orchestra and the 
                  most pleasingly recorded performance of all (because the latest), 
                  the Philharmonia.  
                   
                  Those with capacious bank accounts might reckon that several 
                  accounts merit archiving. And so in this spirit what of this 
                  1947 recording, made with ‘his’ symphony orchestra, amongst 
                  whose serried ranks sat such luminaries as John Corigliano, 
                  Leonard Rose, Walter Trampler, David Oppenheim and Robert Bloom 
                  - all from the NYPSO in other words; the cor anglais player 
                  was Mitch Miller, whose playing I’m afraid I’ve never much liked 
                  and whose second movement solo here I definitely don’t like, 
                  but I’m in a minority of one on that score.  
                   
                  I’m not sure who was the principal flautist but his oscillatory 
                  vibrato makes something tremulous of the opening statements 
                  of the Symphony. But there’s plenty of bite and power in the 
                  lower strings, a snappy, sappy violin cantilever and plenty 
                  of vertiginous dynamics in the big acoustic of the Manhattan 
                  Center, New York. Similarly big band percussion makes itself 
                  felt and the horns cry with passionate conviction; the winds 
                  have nothing Czech about them at all but there’s much to enjoy 
                  nevertheless. Stokowski’s string cushion in the slow movement 
                  is typically expressive and he’s much slower than, say, Ancerl, 
                  Talich or Reiner. A conventional enough Scherzo follows, though 
                  it has plenty of personality and strength of character before 
                  we reach the finale. This is terse, powerful and toward the 
                  end Stokowski can’t help himself; he sticks in a tam-tam and 
                  reinforced brass and ends in a veritable if dubious blaze of 
                  glory. I’m not going to censure too much, because I did enjoy 
                  it and there are plenty of rectitudinous accounts out there 
                  if you suffer from an allergy to conductorial editing.  
                  Isn’t it disappointing that Stokowski pretty much ignored all 
                  the other symphonies?  
                   
                  The Bach is a familiar 1947 recording, set down in March 1947. 
                  There is tremendous panache and sonority, as one would expect, 
                  and a raft of intensity and grandeur. Recorded thirteen years 
                  earlier, the Tchaikovsky Nutcracker Suite takes us back to Philadelphia 
                  days. He had already set down his first discographic thoughts 
                  with the same orchestral back in 1926 but this later three 78 
                  set provides an even greater sense of aural projection and warmth. 
                  The winds, flutes especially, are on magnificent form, and the 
                  rich sense of rubato Stokowski generates – try the Dance of 
                  the Flutes – is well nigh irresistible. This is a marvellously 
                  alert, vivid reading exploiting every crevice of the orchestra’s 
                  famed virtuosity and sense of individual and corporate colour. 
                   
                   
                  Cala has released the Tchaikovsky [CACD0521 - see review] 
                  and Dvořák recordings [CACD0550 - see review]. 
                  The latter was a front-on recording, almost truculently present 
                  and Cala presents it with vivid immediacy, whilst Dutton has 
                  preferred a more interventionist approach, trying to tame some 
                  of its brasher qualities. There is no direct overlap so couplings, 
                  as much as transfer philosophies, may dictate your choice.  
                   
                  Jonathan Woolf 
                  
                  
                  
                  
                  
                 
                 
                 
             
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