Some of Reginald
Kell’s English Columbia recordings have been re-released
by Testament but this is the first significant collection
of a body of his discs to have been released for very many
years. It collates the American Deccas in discs set down
on LP between 1950 and 1957 and thus enshrines the last
studio performances made by one of the greatest wind players
of the twentieth century, a revolutionary in tone production
and a consummate soloist, chamber and orchestral player
– not forgetting his far reaching influence on his students,
one of whom incidentally was Benny Goodman.
The six discs are well filled, the discographic
details are complete with dates and original release dates
intact, and the notes are succinct and translated into French
and German. Doubtless those yet to have become enslaved
by Kell would wish for more concrete and extensive analysis
of style and of these particular performances but I dare
say the ear, innocent or otherwise, will accustom itself
to his stylistic and tonal particularities.
As many will
know Kell re-recorded some of his repertoire. Not only did
he revisit previous scenes of 78 triumph (such as the Mozart
Concerto and Quintet) but he returned to things such as
the Brahms Sonatas twice over whilst in America. So it’s
as well to note that his Mercury recordings of those two
sonatas with Horszowski are not here; the Deccas were with
a frequent collaborator, Joel Rosen. Also it’s as well to
distinguish between the Fine Arts recordings; these are
the earlier traversals of material they returned to a few
years later.
Nevertheless
what we have is special. No, the Mozart Concerto in no way
replaces the vitality and crispness of the Sargent conducted
English Columbia. With the Zimbler Sinfonietta we have a
rather patrician plod despite the band sporting such as
Joseph de Pasquale in the three man viola section and Samuel
Mayes in the cellos. Anyway this was always an ill balanced
recording with the band far too recessed and there’s nothing
much to be done with it now. The Quintet was recorded in
1951 with the Fine Arts, a distinguished group who never
really scaled the heights. Tempi are relaxed, there’s an
avoidance of portamenti from the string players and textures
are aerated. Kell is highly impressive but those who know
his 1945 Philharmonia Quartet Columbia will appreciate that
this American Decca can’t be considered in any sense superior.
The English quartet plays with far greater character and
colour and evokes a richer patina of tonal variety, and
Kell is more affecting throughout. The Serenades are directed
by Kell as conductor of his Chamber Players and they are
pleasing, maybe too pleasingly indulged, examples of Kell’s
direction.
It’s not universally
the case that the earlier English Columbias are preferable
to the later American Deccas, though that’s the impression
given by his Mozart recordings. So, it must be said, his
1944 Beethoven trio seems to me significantly preferable
to this re-make of 1950, even given the relative improvement
in sound quality. And even with two titans such as Horszowski
and cellist Frank Miller to keep him company. The Kell-Pini-Kentner
Columbia simply has more zip. There’s rather a resonant
recording acoustic for Kell’s meeting with violist Lillian
Fuchs and Horszowski for the Mozart trio; some may not care
for the overly pomposo Menuetto and might wish the last
movement moved on a bit more. The second disc ends with
his famed Schumann Fantasiestücke. His earlier recording
with Gerald Moore was excellent but this one, again with
Joel Rosen, could be even be finer – the liquid legato and
lyricism is accompanied by the highest feeling.
The third disc
features a superb Weber Grand Duo. He’d recorded the Concertino
with Walter Goehr (on Testament) but I think the Duo was
new to his discography when he set it down in 1953. Try
the slow movement to hear how a master colourist shades
his tone and to enjoy the rapport with Rosen. Kell’s most
famous recording of the Brahms Quintet was with the Busch,
pre-War and I don’t think his Fine Arts traversal of 1951
really challenges it. It’s cooler, as are the string players,
and inclined to dawdle. It’s a completely different kind
of performance to that now unearthed by Testament of Kell’s
distinguished English colleague Jack Thurston, who recorded
it in 1941 (though not issued at the time) with the Griller
Quartet. Thurston keeps to a relatively fast introductory
tempo, then almost unheard of, and his finale is much more
incisive than Kell’s. The same composer’s A minor Trio was
recorded with Miller and Horszowski in 1950. The earlier
Kell-Pini-Kentner 1941 Columbia was consistently fleeter
in the first two movements whilst Miller’s tone sometimes
takes on a rather odd rawness. Fans of such things can also
hear up-close-and-personal sounds of Kell’s keys in action.
The fourth disc
is a sonata one; the two Brahms sonatas were re-recorded
later with Horszowski for Mercury but the Rosen readings
are rather swifter. There’s vocalised warmth in the slow
movement of the F minor and the Allegro amabile of the E
flat major is perfectly suited to Kell’s lyric directness.
He finds real vivacity and wit in the Saint-Saëns, revelling
in its quasi-operatic curlicues but also brings solemn breadth
to its slow movement, his upper register crystalline and
under perfect control. The finale has splendid trills and
great warmth, the luscious melody toward the end brought
out with the finesse of a master. Fellow “Briton Abroad”
Alec Templeton wrote a “Pocket-size Sonata” in 1949 and
it’s certainly that – full of wistful drifting, modal blues
and laid back charm, and ending with a Broadway rouser of
a finale. Szalowski’s 1936 Sonatina is a perky, smart piece,
It has Gallic insouciance a-plenty but also sports a withdrawn
Larghetto and a virtuosic finale and is well worth getting
to know – all ten minutes of it.
Disc five offers
some alternately brittle and syrupy fare. The dramatic and
lissom patina of the Debussy Rhapsodie is expertly delineated
and the Hindemith, a very approachable sonata, works exceptionally
well here with Kell and Rosen responding to its perky expressivity
without demur. If the Bartók Contrasts isn’t quite as successful
it certainly doesn’t stint on some of the zest – amazing
to remember the days when this was written off as a disagreeable
and grumpy work. Kell had played the Stravinsky Three Pieces
to the composer in 1934 and his 1951 recording is a testament
to his mastery of them; no wonder Stravinsky had inscribed
Kell’s copy for him, a reproduction of which forms one of
the several splendid photographs in the booklet. With Camarata
Kell lets down his hair a little; his Debussy is a touch
treacly with all those souped up strings but I enjoyed the
warm and grave Mourant pieces.
The final disc
is a most entertaining catch-all one. Milhaud is in bouncy
jazz mode, loping languidly in his finale to excellent effect.
The VW is a late recording, May 1957, but features Kell’s
generously wide lower register and in the Lento something
of Leon Goossens’ oboe tone at the top most register. As
ever the lyricism is superbly delineated and evoked. The
Handel pieces are in his own transcriptions and one can
hear those constant changes in colour and articulation best
in the Gigue. He also essayed some Kreisler but takes the
Beethoven Rondino very slowly, far more slowly than a violinist
would and he should have known, having started on the violin
as a boy. His Ravel is evocative, the Arthur Benjamin very
laid back – this was how he habitually took it apparently
- and the Camarata-accompanied Kreisler group rather subjected
to syrupy arrangements. Schön Rosmarin is the pick – luscious
– whilst Liebesleid is a bit too cautious.
Many of these
represent first ever CD incarnations, things that haven’t
seen the light of day since their 1950s LP incarnations.
It’s a splendid survey, finely transferred, well illustrated
and also sporting some of the clarinettist’s modernist and
idiosyncratically musical paintings – a touch of Miró maybe
for the colourist supreme.
Jonathan Woolf
Reginald Kell (clarinet)
with
