Antal Doráti’s Minneapolis recordings were notable for their
vitality,
  grandeur and technical excellence. The three under review demonstrate the
point
  triumphantly, even when they may seem stylistically somewhat at odds with
the
  music. 
    
  The main event is Tchaikovsky’s Fifth Symphony which was recorded
over
  three days in April 1952 for Mercury. Doráti takes a decisive
series
  of tempo decisions pretty much throughout, and this is a fleet and tensile
reading.
  Pristine’s XR work on this mono recording has given depth to the
sound
  spectrum, and the ambient stereo brings the advantage of warmth.
I’ve
  not had the opportunity to listen to the original LP, so can’t
comment
  on the nature of the work in any useful detail, but can say that it sounds
attractive.
  I do wonder, however, to what extent the brass and, say, the lower string
pizzicati
  have been boosted. Those whose experience of the symphony ranges in its
earlier
  recordings from Alexander Kitschin, Rodzinski, Stokowski, Mengelberg,
Koussevitzky,
  Lambert, Stock and Beecham may find Doráti unyielding and
over-metrical
  but I happen to find him driving and exciting and cumulatively powerful.
                  
  He also recorded Enrique Fernández Arbós’s
orchestration
  of Albéniz’s Iberia a few years later, this time in
stereo.
  Fortunately there’s a benchmark, which is the orchestrator himself
in
  his 1928 recording of El corpus en Sevilla, Triana and El
Puerto,
  made with the Madrid Symphony Orchestra [Dutton CDBP 9782]. The grandiose,
magnificently
  ebullient and assertive Minneapolis performances of the complete set only
very
  seldom sounds remotely Spanish. In fact for some of the time it cleaves
close
  to Tchaikovsky - more like a ballet waltz in Evocación, and
in
  its grandiloquence and bravura sounding strangely like a symphonic finale
in
  El Corpus en Sevilla. When Doráti slows down he can make his
points
  well, but he hustles Triana too much. As an example of orchestral
panache
  and discipline, as well as rhythmic tenacity, this can’t be faulted.
As
  an example of fidelity to idiom, it leaves a great deal to be desired. The
Interlude
  and Dance from Falla’s La Vida Breve was made at the same
time
  and makes for a pleasing envoi. 
    
  If the reckoning here is the Tchaikovsky, and it’s likely to be,
then
  this vital and energising account makes a most exciting impact. 
    
                  Jonathan Woolf   
                  
Masterwork Index: Tchaikovsky
  5