I imagine that most readers of MusicWeb International quickly 
                  scan the day's main headings and then, if a work or artist interests 
                  them, jump straight to reading the review. The details of recording 
                  dates and venues are, more often than not, I’d guess, 
                  passed over without a great deal of attention.
                  
                  To do so in this case would be to miss something of great significance, 
                  for these recordings were made in Berlin on 8 and 9 July 1940, 
                  replicating live performances given just a few days earlier. 
                  In other words, less than seven weeks after the Netherlands 
                  had suffered a bloody, unprovoked invasion, lost a campaign, 
                  surrendered to an invading German army and been occupied by 
                  enemy forces. That country’s pre-eminent native conductor 
                  could be found leading the flagship German orchestra in the 
                  capital of Nazi Europe. 
                  
                  Just as it does in Furtwangler's case, the controversy over 
                  the Germanophile Mengelberg's collaboration with the Nazis remains 
                  unresolved. Claims that he was essentially apolitical, that 
                  he protected Jewish members of his Concertgebouw Orchestra or 
                  that he attempted to continue promoting the banned “Jewish” 
                  music of Mahler are all asserted. They are even more convincingly 
                  contested for it is an incontrovertible fact that, unlike many 
                  other conductors in Nazi-occupied countries, Mengelberg adopted 
                  a high-profile highly supportive attitude to the new status 
                  quo. After the war’s end he was judicially condemned as 
                  a collaborator and his career came to an ignominious end. 
                  
                  As those preliminary observations indicate, these recordings 
                  certainly have some historical/political/cultural significance. 
                  Any inherent musical importance is, however, rather less 
                  apparent. 
                  
                  The concerto can be considered - and dismissed - quite quickly. 
                  Hansen was a competent enough pianist. He was a student of Edwin 
                  Fischer, though it is worth pointing out that in the 1930s, 
                  when one might have been expecting him to be pursuing a solo 
                  career, he was just as often to be found acting as his mentor’s 
                  teaching assistant. In all honesty, Hansen was probably out 
                  of his depth when partnered with Mengelberg and this recording 
                  has never been particularly highly rated, not simply because 
                  of the soloist’s adequate though generally undistinguished 
                  performance but also because of a horrendously cut first movement 
                  cadenza - blamed by charitable critics on time constraints. 
                  Perhaps a more appropriate soloist for this politically-charged 
                  recording might have been Hitler’s favourite, the notoriously 
                  pro-Nazi Elly Ney, who certainly had Tchaikovsky’s first 
                  concerto in her repertoire. Indeed, she had played it at the 
                  London Proms with Sir Henry Wood just a decade earlier, though 
                  one imagines that, as a notorious racist and anti-semite, she 
                  probably left the Albert Hall post-haste before the programme’s 
                  subsequent items that included Mahler’s first symphony 
                  and Marian Anderson singing a couple of spirituals. 
                    
                  What of the recording of the Tchaikovsky fifth symphony? Again, 
                  this is not a performance for the ages. It is, though, characteristic 
                  Mengelberg: wilful, idiosyncratic, one-of-a-kind. Not only does 
                  the conductor impose his own tempi, dynamics and phrasings throughout 
                  the score, but he also makes a couple of quite drastic cuts 
                  in the finale. Interestingly enough, even though his audiences 
                  expected - and, at that time, generally saw no great harm in 
                  - that sort of practice, in the case of this particular symphony 
                  Mengelberg felt compelled to justify his interventionist approach. 
                  He claimed that Tchaikovsky’s brother Modest had told 
                  him that the composer himself would have approved the modifications 
                  - a suggestion that gave rise to the memorable observation, 
                  on a later occasion when Mengelberg tinkered with Bach, that 
                  he had presumably consulted “Modest Bach” on the 
                  matter. 
                    
                  This, then, is a performance that tells us much more about interpretative 
                  practice in the first half of the twentieth century than about 
                  Tchaikovsky’s score. As such, it is certainly worth hearing, 
                  but you may not want to listen to it on a regular basis and 
                  it certainly won’t displace any of the many other fine 
                  recorded accounts of this work. 
                    
                  Pristine Audio and Mark Obert-Thorn have done a sterling job 
                  in bringing a greater degree of clarity to these 72 years old 
                  performances than we have ever heard before. It would be a good 
                  thing if this release were to tempt those listeners who know 
                  him only by reputation to sample Mengelberg’s undoubted 
                  artistry, tainted in reputation though it unfortunately remains 
                  thanks to the conductor’s questionable wartime stance. 
                    
                  
                  Rob Maynard  
                  
                  Masterwork Index: Piano 
                  concerto 1 ~~ Symphony 
                  5