The omission of Sir Adrian Boult from the first batch
of "Great Conductors of the 20th Century" raised
my eyebrows a little, but perhaps extra time was needed to bring all
this material together, for it really is a most handsome tribute, infinitely
more so than one could ever have dared hope for. It could have been
so easy; an "Enigma", a "Planets", a "Tallis
Fantasia", a Brahms Overture, a bit of Wagner and maybe the "Dambusters
March" to round it off, all of two minutes’ work at the planning
stage and after all, who could deny Sir Adrian greatness on the strength
of it all? Instead, there are recordings here that the conductor’s admirers
must have despaired of ever hearing. For this we must be grateful to
John Pattrick (Director, Audio/Visual Division) and Stephen Wright (Managing
Director) of IMG Artists who selected these recordings and also to Malcolm
Walker who some years ago compiled a Boult discography, and here provides
the informative booklet notes. And yet, while there is material galore
for the connoisseur, this is also a set which can safely be given to
a collector who has not yet investigated the art of Boult, for it should
leave him in no doubt as to why Sir Adrian is to be considered among
the great conductors. Indeed, it is an album which is most urgently
recommended to those have been discouraged by the image left by Boult
in his later years, that of a benign old English gentleman, a survivor
from a past age, heard at his best when guiding the meandering course
of some gentle rhapsody of the English "cow-pat school", or
when turning in a "true blue" performance of a patriotic march.
And incidentally, Groucho Marx himself could not have bettered the Italian
radio announcer who unwittingly dubbed him "Seer Bald". (I
can’t resist adding that the same hapless linguist, on another occasion,
announced, with glorious Freudian aptness, a composer called "Daily
Ooze"; I won’t attempt to reproduce phonetically what he made of
"On hearing the first cuckoo in spring").
However, Boult’s "benign old gentleman" image,
like Bruno Walter’s "saintly" image, was a popular misconception
which the interested party was apparently happy to foster. Orchestral
players were very loyal to him and stories to the effect that he could
be nervous, tetchy and pretty short in the fuse, while completely true,
circulated remarkably little. As more of his recordings from the 78
and early LP era become available to supplement those of his "Indian
summer" back in the EMI stables, a more vital image of him is emerging,
and it is becoming evident that, while these late recordings were more
than good enough to delight his many fans – and they do include many
superb things – we should be wary of selecting a late Boult recording
as definitive if an earlier one of the same work exists.
Not that many of the pieces in this selection exist
in later versions. "Rob Roy" comes from a fairly comprehensive
two-LP selection of Berlioz’s Overtures made for Nixa in 1956 and available
at budget price from Pye in the late ’60s. British conductors have always
been in the forefront where appreciation of Berlioz is concerned, but
common wisdom is that the royal lineage passed from Harty to Beecham
and thence to Sir Colin Davis. Without detracting a jot from the achievement
of these three (remember, too, that it was Scottish Opera and Sir Alexander
Gibson who first put "The Trojans" back on the map), this
is not entirely fair to Boult, who had already recorded three of the
overtures in the 1930s and who establishes his Berlioz credentials in
no uncertain manner. The opening bars could be more precise and some
wow (obviously on the original master, since the LP pressing was exactly
the same) does not help, but as the music gains momentum Boult is soon
living dangerously with whiplash attack and some pizzicatos within a
millimetre of snapping the strings. He also finds due tenderness and
elegance where required (this is the piece which begins with "Scots
wha hae" and in which the "Harold in Italy" theme makes
an early appearance), but the important thing is that he creates that
sense of hedonistic incandescence without which Berlioz just doesn’t
get off the ground. Some scrappy entries along the way have never worried
me.
Compared with the Pye LP, the transfer engineers have
produced results that are less shrill and constricted than before. What
they cannot do is alter certain oddities of balance. The harp seems
to have been close-miked while certain wind instruments were left to
fend for themselves. If you want to know how much (and above all how
little) of the "Harold in Italy" theme you hear if you are
sitting in the orchestra playing the harp, then this disc reveals all.
Since Boult was famed for his orchestral balance we can take it for
granted that he was not to blame. All the same, I hope we get a complete
reissue of these Berlioz recordings before long.
I’d better confess that this recording of the Franck
has been with me for about as long as I’ve been listening to music.
It originally came out in a Reader’s Digest box which we had at school
and we all know that the recording by which we came to know a work can
sometimes seem more definitive than it deserves. But this box also provided
my introduction to the "Eroica" (Grünner-Hegge), "The
Rite of Spring" (Leibowitz), the "Pathétique"
(Gibson) and it was only later that I discovered that these pieces were
not as boring as they seemed, though I must confess that performances
of the "Rhenish" Symphony still find me "missing"
certain of Leibowitz’s stranger agogic touches. So I feel that, when
a performance remains with us as an ideal in this way, it must be a
good one. I also have the idea that slower, more sentimental performances
of this work may be a phenomenon of the last twenty years or so, when
this Symphony had ceased to be a standard repertoire piece and conductors
no longer quite knew what to do with it, for other performances I heard
in my late schooldays (I remember John Carewe and Hugo Rignold in particular)
were not so different from Boult. It was only with the passing of the
years that this Boult performance came to represent for me an ideal
which no other conductor seemed willing to match.
But what about Boult’s own early encounters with this
symphony? In his youth he heard it conducted by Franck’s pupil Gabriel
Pierné, and this memory formed the basis of his own interpretation.
Furthermore, while I have never heard the Toscanini version, I understand
that he arrived by sheer intuition at very similar results, and I can
certainly testify that another conductor who gave an interpretation
strikingly similar to Boult’s was Toscanini’s one-time protégé
Mario Rossi. Another conductor who went in for an up-front, forward-moving
solution, Paul Paray, certainly had plenty of opportunities to hear
Pierné’s interpretation in his younger days. In short, Boult,
far from being out on a limb, may actually represent some kind of grand
tradition which has been lost sight of.
These Readers’ Digest albums were issued to special
order, purchasers being assured that they were getting a once-in-a-lifetime
offer that would never be sold to the general public. Fortunately this
was not true and in 1976 RCA, who had actually made the recordings,
issued some of them, including the Franck. I didn’t hear this but caught
up with the performance a few years ago on a Chesky CD which was also
notable for Earl Wild’s performance of the Symphonic Variations (Chesky
CD 87). It was all that I had remembered it, and it has been great to
hear it again now, for Boult really does seem to have all the answers.
In those moments where virtually every performance gets bogged down
as the organist-composer fidgets with his stops and recalls earlier
themes, Boult surges inexorably onwards. Just one example. Where, in
the finale, Franck makes a thumping climax out of his second movement
theme, Boult does not slacken his tempo at first, he holds it steady,
broadens out briefly but overwhelmingly at the very end of the passage
and then sails proudly on before the momentum has been lost. And, just
to show that his insights are not confined to tempo, I would point to
the very passionate colouring of the violas’ entry at 1’ 37" in
the second movement as unparalleled in my experience. Franck’s particular
brand of Catholic fervour might have been antithetic to Boult’s Anglican
background (though no more so than that of "Gerontius") but
this does not prevent him from realising it wholeheartedly.
The strangely-named London Orchestra Society was renamed
the RCA Victor Symphony Orchestra on the RCA LP issue (this was a convenient
all-purpose name for out-of-contract orchestras on both sides of the
Atlantic) and rumour got around that it was the Philharmonia. Malcolm
Walker explains that it was a free-lance pick-up band, many of whose
members were indeed from the Philharmonia. As so often on this set,
Boult may be unruffled by the odd spot of ragged ensemble but obtains
the total collaboration of his players in realising his vision of the
music. The recording is still vivid, include a strange "noise-off"
on the third note which has always been there.
Boult’s Readers’ Digest recordings also included wonderfully
buoyant readings of suites from Tchaikovsky’s "Nutcracker"
and "Swan Lake", both of which have been made available by
Chesky (the former on Chesky CD53, with other Boult performances including
a thrilling version of Liszt’s "Les Préludes", the
latter on Chesky CD94, with the 5th Symphony under Horenstein).
His Nixa recordings of this composer included Symphonies 5 and 6, while
he conducted the 3rd for Decca. A Tchaikovsky work for which
he evidently had a particular affection was the 3rd Suite,
which he recorded for Decca with the Paris Conservatoire Orchestra in
the mid-fifties and again in 1974, from which recording we are given
the Theme and Variations. Walker comments that this "proved to
be one of the most memorable of all the recordings Sir Adrian made in
his 80s". Presumably the Decca version would not have been available
for this compilation, but in any case this is an instance where the
late performance (as with his remake of Brahms 2) is so vital as to
silence any doubts that the earlier one might be more so still. Here
is affection, elegance, poetry and fantasy wedded to the deepest feeling.
It is not illogically followed by "Portsmouth
Point", for Boult’s exuberant performance reminds us how much Walton’s
inspiration owed to "Petrushka". This, Sir Adrian’s third
(and last) recording of the piece, came out on a World Record Club issue
called "Boult Bravo" which included such unlikely fare as
the Intermezzo to Wolf-Ferrari’s "I gioielli della Madonna",
the Fire Dance from Falla’s "El Amor Brujo", Stravinsky’s
"Circus Polka" and Gershwin’s "Cuban Overture".
Other World Record Club issues, of which only a few isolated pieces
have seen the light of day in the CD era, included a disc of marches
(Sousa, Alford, etc), one of classical favourites such as the overtures
to "The Magic Flute" and "Poet and Peasant", Ponchielli’s
"Dance of the Hours" and the "Radetzky March", various
Russian and Slavonic favourites, some concertos with soloists including
Shura Cherkassky (as so often, not at his best in studio conditions),
Mendelssohn’s "Italian" Symphony and – well-known in its Classics
for Pleasure incarnation – an Elgar coupling of "Enigma" and
the Introduction and Allegro.
Sir Adrian’s success as an interpreter of British music
would not have been possible had he not also been a great interpreter
of the basic classics. Just as the first disc illustrates his excellence
in much French and Russian music (to the former we can now add his "Daphnis
et Chloë" on BBC Legends, BBCL 4039-2), so the second concentrates
on the German/Austrian classics. "Coriolan" was the coupling
for the Beethoven Violin Concerto which he recorded with Josef Suk;
many commentators felt that the overture had a degree of concentration
not attained in the concerto itself, though in the EMG Monthly Letter
a critic with long memories felt it "not quite so taut as on his
famous old 78 recording, but excellent nonetheless". I can’t go
back that far but I do have a recording he made in the late fifties,
last sighted on an LP from the Austrian company Amadeo as a coupling
to his "Eroica", and I rather feel the same way. The earlier
timing of 6’ 50" compared with the 7’ 42" of the NPO version
does not in itself prove anything, but the NPO was very much still Klemperer’s
orchestra whereas in the earlier version (with the LPO) there is the
feeling of a shared knowledge of how everyone expects the music to go.
It is classic Beethoven conducting in the fiery, taut manner of Weingartner
or the younger Bruno Walter. Incidentally, Malcolm Walker tells us that
Boult recorded Beethoven’s Symphonies 1, 3, 5, 6 and 8, but this series
(originally issued on Top Rank, I believe) also included a 7th
which is perhaps the pick of the bunch, one of the finest performances
I know. Whoever has the rights should let us have a coupling of nos.
5 (also very fine) and 7.
The Schumann Symphonies were another Nixa set. I once
heard a broadcast of the "Rhenish", then famous for its faster-than-Toscanini
tempi, but this is my first encounter with no. 4. Here I have to say
that the classic Furtwängler version has embedded itself deeply
in my consciousness though, as the recent Thielemann recording showed,
I am not going to thank any conductor who merely reproduces the outward
gestures of that extraordinary performance. How would Boult’s predictably
more "straight" version grab me?
Well, let us recall that Leipzig and Arthur Nikisch
were potent factors in the musical development of both conductors. While
Furtwängler’s improvisatory freedom is at the opposite extreme
to Boult’s sense of architectural balance, you can also hear that both
interpretations derive from a shared experience, for the actual character
that emerges is uncannily similar. When evoking the impetuous Florestan,
there is little to choose between them, though it must be said that
Furtwängler’s still invests certain phrases of the imploring Eusebius
(in the Romanze, principally) with a very special meaning. Furtwängler’s
handling of the "Wagnerian" transition to the finale has long
been a touchstone, but Boult is pretty terrific, too. As with these
Nixas, recording and orchestral playing have rough passages, but this
is a Schumann cycle that we should be allowed to hear in its entirety.
The Wolf was one of a few unprogrammed items set down
when some concerto sessions with the violinist Michael Rabin finished
ahead of schedule. For Walker, this is "one of Boult’s most accomplished
recordings". You may be getting the idea that I am ready to rubber-stamp
any Boult performance as "one of the finest ever", but here
I differ. I appreciate the vitality and the cheekiness of the performance
but feel that a degree of Mediterranean languor is missing – it is a
bit relentless. A broadcast Celibidache performance (Rome 1968 – well
before this conductor began to seek out the mystic element in the most
unlikely places) adds less than a minute to Boult’s timing, yet seems
to find the space for affection and warmth as well as sparkle.
It is strange that the fame justly accorded to Boult’s
interpretation of Schubert’s "Great" C major Symphony did
not encourage more interest in his performances of this composer’s other
music. His early 78s of the "Unfinished" remained without
sequel until BBC Legends recently came out with a fine version (with
the Ravel on BBCL 4039-2). This recording of no. 4 was made for the
Concert Hall Record Club and is very rare indeed for, while World Record
Club issues were accessible to non-members, Concert Hall ones were not.
It proves everything we could have hoped for; a grave but not static
introduction leads to a superbly vigorous Allegro vivace, the Andante
moves forward at a gentle walking pace (this movement can easily seem
too long), the phrasing of the Menuetto is exactly judged between drive
and lilt, while the finale charts Schubert’s progress from the sombre
opening to the concluding burst of sunlight. The recording is a bit
bass-light (tunes on the cellos don’t sing out as they should) but otherwise
acceptable.
BBC Legends have also put us in their debt by finding
a Sibelius 7th Symphony conducted (very finely) by Boult
(BBCL 4039-2 once again; the fourth item on this valuable issue is Bizet’s
Suite "Jeux d’enfants"). Its excellence is hardly surprising
in view of the qualities of his set of Sibelius tone poems made for
Nixa and available in America on the Omega label. The obvious comparison
for the "Tempest" Prelude is with Beecham’s 1947 version.
Beecham insists on a very clear enunciation of the string triplets throughout
and obtains a mesmeric effect but, just possibly, a slightly didactic
one. Boult’s tempo is virtually identical (Beecham: 6’ 28", Boult:
6’ 13"). With him, the triplets are present, but more absorbed
into the general mass of sound. The sense of a natural cataclysm slowly
evolving before our helpless eyes is if anything greater still; I found
this absolutely riveting. Incidentally, a more recent version under
Sir Neville Marriner (on Hänssler CD 98.353 with the Violin Concerto
played by Sitkovetsky) gets through the piece in 3’ 33". The triplets
obviously become mere tremolos, so it is rather a case of "more
haste, less speed". It is thrilling and effective in its way, but
its way is a cinematographic way and limits Sibelius’s vision.
In choosing the material John Pattrick and Stephen
Wright have thrown down the gauntlet to EMI and others; this is indeed
a wonderful and revelatory tribute to a conductor whose work we believed
we knew well already. And not the least of its revelations is of just
how much prime Boult material still remains in the vaults.
Christopher Howell
London Orchestra Society
(2), London Philharmonic Orchestra (1, 3, 4, 6, 8, 9), New Philharmonia
Orchestra (5), Philharmonia Orchestra (7)/Sir Adrian Boult