As Constant Lambert lay dying, Alan Sanders’ notes 
          relate, a friend found him conducting in time to a test pressing of 
          one of Waldteufel’s waltz recordings contained on this splendid Somm 
          disc. The previous year, having resigned from Sadler’s Wells, he had 
          re-recorded The Rio Grande (with Kyla Greenbaum) and the suite 
          from Horoscope. He already had a distinguished series 
          of recordings behind him and these last 1950 recordings are a sprightly 
          pendant to a discography cut short by his untimely death. The 
          recordings also show that he was one of those rare conductors whose 
          expertise embraced the lighter repertoire as adeptly as he did, say, 
          Tchaikovsky’s Fourth Symphony, a recording that still seems to me a 
          signal achievement. 
        
 
        
He had at his disposal for his final sessions the Philharmonia 
          Orchestra in delectable form. Clarinets are well to the fore of the 
          balance in Waldteufel’s Estudiantina waltz as are some sultry 
          sounding strings, a powerfully astringent first trumpet and some solidly 
          stentorian trombones. By contrast Pomone has a luxuriance and 
          largesse – there is a lilt and a delightful sway to the music making 
          only enhanced by the spick and span orchestral playing. Les Patineurs, 
          probably the best known of the Waldteufel waltzes is affecting, spruce, 
          thrives on rhythmic acuity and graded dynamics (no laziness on Lambert’s 
          part when it comes to matters of sectional discipline) and real depth 
          of tone from the bases. In Sur la Plage Lambert encourages some 
          affecting playing from the first violins on the first page but is infectiously 
          alive to the more rumbustious aspects of the piece. His Suppé 
          is just as laudable. I liked the weight he gives the stern lower strings 
          in Pique Dame. And he generates real heat here as well – vivacious, 
          sonorous, rhythmically alive – and also humorously inflected. The cello 
          principal is suitably grave in his solo in Morning, Noon and Night 
          in Vienna, well contrasted with the formality of the succeeding 
          orchestral tutti. Listen to the violins here – razor sharp articulation 
          and real swagger. 
        
 
        
Lambert revisited Walton’s Façade for 
          the last time in these 1950 sessions and he brings everything one could 
          reasonably expect to the suite. Mordant, witty, sharp-edged Lambert 
          is brilliantly successful at bringing out the vivid, shuddering naughtiness, 
          say, of the Valse or the sultry atmosphere of Noche espagnole 
          or the blues trombone in Old Sir Faulk. Finally there is 
          Lambert’s own orchestration of Chabrier’s charming little Ballabile. 
          After which, of course, there was silence. Lambert died in his mid 
          forties but this splendid disc preserves much of his vitality and vigour 
          in congenial and delightful repertoire. 
        
 Jonathan Woolf