Some of Hamilton Harty’s recordings are elusive. One such
is included in this selection of his late acoustic discs from
the period 1922-24, and that’s his accompaniment to violinist
Leo Strockoff in the Symphonie espagnole.
I’ve always wondered whether that old business about Leopold
Stokowski going by the name ‘Stokes’ had something
to do with Leo Strockoff, who went by, and recorded under, the
name ‘Strock’ as well as his own real name. Stokowski
and Strockoff were both active in London at the same time, so
who knows? In any case this means that violin collectors have
to keep their wits about them, and one should never neglect
a Strock lest it should turn out to be a Strockoff. About this
fiddler, there’s not much written, but apart from Anglicising
his name he recorded exclusively for English Columbia and spent
his adult years in Britain. The Lalo was his single major recording
- the others were smaller pieces - and it’s something
of an irony that it was never released in his adopted country,
only in North America. Columbia did inexplicable things like
that, and at the same time they also shipped Arthur Catterall
and William Murdoch’s excellent set of the Franck sonata
to Canada and the USA, and refused to issue it in Britain.
This was unfortunate for Strockoff, as it was the first ever
recording of the Lalo, excepting isolated, generally piano-accompanied
movements. Complete, that is, except for the omission of the
Intermezzo, something that happened often with Russian
players who had been taught to omit it by Leopold Auer. I am
aware that Nathan Milstein related that Strockoff, who ambled
in Eugène Ysaÿe’s ambit in the 1920s, claimed
to have recorded the work complete but I’m not aware there’s
any evidence that he did. The matrix numbers certainly don’t
support the assertion.
Naturally there were, in July 1924, brass reinforcements for
the string basses, but they’re not especially galumphing.
The solo violin, clarinet, especially in counter-themes, and
percussion all come through with considerable clarity given
the essentially primitive set-up. Orchestral pizzicatos register
well. Strockoff makes a variable impression, frequently fluent,
if at times a bit glib, sometimes evincing erratic intensity,
especially in the Andante. I grew to like the performance
however, and his suave legato in the finale is pleasing, albeit
it’s not a performance to rank alongside the authentically
Gallic one of Henry Merckel, recorded in 1932. After years of
searching and bidding I finally managed to secure my own album
set of this recording, inevitably from an American dealer, having
given up on anyone transferring it. I like the transfer, though
the cost of minimising surface noise is a slight loss of treble
and room ambience.
The remainder of this hour long disc gives us Harty with another
distinguished player, the flautist Robert Murchie, in Bach’s
Second Orchestral Suite, recorded a few months earlier than
the Lalo. The balance between strings and brass basses is a
touch uneasy in the early stages - the Overture in particular
- but there’s a fine level of expressive intent in the
performance and Murchie plays exceptionally well, as a listen
to the clarity of his articulation will testify. Harty wasn’t
really known for his Bach, more for Handel. Here is his first
attempt on disc at his own arrangement of the Water Music.
He was to re-record it electrically, but this sonically compromised
1922 performance is ingeniously presented and warmly moulded,
albeit quite severely cut to fit four 78 sides. The remaining
item is another Harty speciality, Berlioz. The Roman Carnival
overture takes a while to warm up, and its lack of string heft
is all too audible, but it’s a valuable souvenir of his
way with the composer’s music.
There are no notes from this company as usual - just a simple
inlay card with track-listings. No matrix or catalogue details
though, which is a shame. Still, I’d commend this disc,
not least for the first ever - I believe - restoration of the
Lalo.
Jonathan Woolf
Leo Strockoff (violin)
