These performances
derive from an NBC broadcast of 14th
February 1953 and from the rehearsal
the previous day. Significantly they
are Toscanini’s last traversals of these
works and were recorded in Carnegie
Hall, not Studio 8H, greatly to their
advantage. La mer is known from
Toscanini’s 1950 recording and in truth
his conception of it had remained constant
barring one of two local adjustments
of emphasis and tempo relation. Those
who know the live Queen’s Hall 1935
performance the conductor gave with
the BBCSO (EMI) will be aware that Toscanini
favoured broadly an externalised, brilliantly
forward-looking approach, strong on
panache and virtuosity, but which could
yield expressive results. I tend to
find the later performances lacking
in humanity and depth but there’s no
doubting the power and control. I should
say that, infuriatingly, the radio announcer
talks over the first couple of bars.
It’s also true that this 1953 performance
is in more immediate sound than the
commercial 1950 RCA disc and that’s
another reason to acquaint oneself with
this live performance. Other versions
do exist of course; Toscanini’s 1940
broadcast from the Rockefeller Centre
is on Naxos, coupled with Ibéria
and more Debussy besides – though I
should say that the 1940 performance
hasn’t survived entirely intact and
there are some aural distractions and
loss of a few bars as well. On balance
the 1935 London La mer seems
to me the best of the survivors. There’s
a 1942 Philadelphia survivor as well
but it’s not superior to the London
performance.
Ibéria
tended to bring out the Toscaninian
stops. He rushes to climaxes and the
tension engendered is overwhelming but
also not entirely free of a degree of
artifice. William Youngren notes that
this live recording is slightly freer
and more flexibly phrased than the commercial
recording but I still can’t help but
feel that Ibéria was not
a work that brought out the best in
Toscanini – it tended to bring out extremes.
Prélude à l’après-midi
d’un faune is fast but momentum
doesn’t compromise expressive phrasing
in this case.
But well over half
the set is taken up by rehearsals for
La mer given the day before the
concert. These are, thankfully, mostly
lacking in the usual histrionics, though
part of the first track on CD2 features
a tiresome rant. Toscanini is laser-eared
in matters relating to forte and piano,
and is scrupulous about the right-sounding
cymbals. For long stretches he plays
without stopping; when he does so it’s
to insist on wind phrasing or articulation;
a mini outburst occurs when he doesn’t
get the kind of phrasing he asks for.
Given that ninety out
of one hundred and forty-five minutes
are devoted to the rehearsals, and given
that they don’t much extend our knowledge
and appreciation of Toscanini’s working
methods beyond those we already know
(however interesting it may be to eavesdrop)
this leaves one with something of a
conundrum when it comes to recommendations.
As I say the Queen’s Hall La mer
remains my preferred Toscanini interpretation
and there are more complexly involving
rehearsal sequences elsewhere – as such
this must be considered a collectors’
issue, but one that’s extremely well
produced and presented.
Jonathan Woolf
NBC Symphony Orchestra/Arturo Toscanini 
