In terms of recording history Hidemaro Konoye is best known 
                  for his pioneering 1930 recording of Mahler’s Fourth Symphony, 
                  made in Tokyo for Japanese Parlophone. The seeming incongruity 
                  of this undertaking, and the West’s comparative ignorance of 
                  the Japanese recording industry, has conspired to grant this 
                  set a real, albeit unexpected cachet. But Konoye, or Viscount 
                  Konoye (1898-1973), was steeped in Austro-German music. He’d 
                  first studied in Germany four years after Mahler’s death, then 
                  returned to Europe in 1923, studying with a raft of big names 
                  – composition with d’Indy and Schreker, and conducting with 
                  Erich Kleiber and Karl Muck. Konoye founded the New Symphony 
                  Orchestra of Tokyo, with whom he made the Mahler recording, 
                  but he also had an established relationship with the Berlin 
                  Philharmonic, which he first directed in 1924. Thirteen years 
                  later he began a small series of recordings with them, all presented 
                  in this disc. 
                  
                  Mozart’s Sinfonia Concertante grants solo space to four leading 
                  Berlin principals: Erich Venzke (oboe), Alfred Bürkner (clarinet), 
                  Martin Ziller (horn) and Oskar Rothensteiner (bassoon). All 
                  four play with personable wit, and whilst they are perhaps less 
                  richly individual than the soloists on Stokowski’s near contemporaneous 
                  Philadelphia recording – Marcel Tabuteau, Bernard Portnoy, Mason 
                  Jones and Sol Schoenbach were the illustrious names in that 
                  set – some may prefer Konoye’s more discreet handling of the 
                  orchestral fabric. He encourages some warm slides in the opening 
                  introduction and throughout, but otherwise adopts a ‘let them 
                  play’ approach that works well, not least in the bucolic finale. 
                  
                  
                  Haydn’s Symphony No.91 was well chosen for recording purposes. 
                  Not only is it compact but I’m not aware of any contender in 
                  the late 30s. The Polydors used for transfer are rather more 
                  crackly than the Columbias used for the Mozart, but once again 
                  side joins are imperceptible and the sound spectrum is excellent. 
                  Konoye proves to be a rather impressive Classicist, imbuing 
                  the music with a nicely characterised quality, and pomposo 
                  when required. 
                  
                  Mussorgsky’s A Night on the Bare Mountain managed to 
                  fit onto two sides of a Polydor 78, and it’s tautly argued and 
                  quite driven. The remainder of the disc offers a slice of political 
                  life. There’s the German National Anthem, coupled on the same 
                  side with the Horst Wessel Lied, and on the reverse the 
                  Japanese National Anthem in Konoye’s own arrangement. For obvious 
                  reasons these recordings haven’t seen much currency since the 
                  War. 
                  
                  This disc houses the complete Konoye Berlin recordings, in fine 
                  transfers. If you’re curious, you can purchase with confidence, 
                  in both interpretative and transfer senses. 
                  
                  Jonathan Woolf