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Ralph
VAUGHAN WILLIAMS (1872-1958)
Symphony No. 9 in E minor (1958) [38:58] Wallingford RIEGGER (1885-1961)
New Dance, Op.18b [5:55] Alan HOVHANESS (1911-2000)
The Mysterious Mountain (Symphony No. 2), Op. 132 (1955)
[18:49] Paul CRESTON (1906-1985)
Toccata (1957) [12:34]
Leopold
Stokowski and his Symphony Orchestra
rec. Carnegie Hall, New York, September 1958 CALA CACD0539 [73:17]
Aside from this program's
sheer documentary importance all these works are worth hearing,
especially as they
benefit from the conductor's distinctive "take".
Aside
from this program's sheer documentary importance - the concert
marked the Ninth Symphony's U.S. premiere - all these works
are worth hearing, especially as they benefit from the conductor's
distinctive "take."
Stokowski
was an ardent, committed performer of Vaughan Williams, as
evidenced by further such offerings in Cala's catalogue. But
don't expect his Ninth to share the restrained demeanor of
such British interpreters and fellow-travelers as Boult (Everest,
EMI) and Previn (RCA). Stokowski's manner here, as with everything
he conducted, is larger than life - in the wake of recent sports
scandals Stateside, the adjective "steroidal" comes
to mind. In the first movement, the brasses at the opening
are weighty and ominous - and, owing to close miking, a bit
overbearing. The saxophone flourishes, both oilier and more
focused in tone than one expects, sustain the threatening atmosphere.
There's an anxious undercurrent to the clarinet's spacious
second theme.
So
it goes throughout the symphony: Stokowski heightens the orchestral
colors, pumps up the intensity, episode by episode. The Andante
sostenuto begins with a bit of an edge; its second, lyrical
theme, pulsing vibrantly, rises to impassioned peaks that might
seem very un-"English." The saxophones get a full
workout in the Scherzo, as soloists, launching a fugato,
or as a homophonic choir; Stokowski once again stresses their
quirky color for effects both jaunty and menacing. In the dramatic
finale, there's an organ-like richness to the brass chorale
at 0:58, and a lovely rocking quality when the strings take
over the second theme at 1:22. The horns and trumpets calling
out to each other over rolling timpani, beginning at 4:55,
have never sounded so lonely. This may all be a bit too much
for the music's own good, especially if you're unfamiliar with
the score - Previn, for example, who makes less of the individual
episodes, gives a clearer picture of the music's overall progress
- but Stokowski's involvement certainly holds attention.
The
remaining, perhaps less historically "significant" works
on the program, nonetheless merit similar affection and care
from the conductor. This was my first encounter with Wallingford
Riegger's music, and I'm not sure what to make of his New
Dance. The title suggests a light, Pops-type piece; so
does the main theme bouncing over an infectious, Spanish-inflected
accompaniment. But its progress is repeatedly interrupted by
brief outbursts, usually involving the brass, which instruments
have, by the final episode at 4:51, infiltrated themselves
into the texture of the accompaniment. The overall effect is
peculiar - both grim and catchy.
For
all Alan Hovhaness's compositional fecundity, I've never really
taken to his music. The folk-like Central Asian flavor of his
themes doesn't jibe with his taste for relatively sparse, unfilled
textures; too frequently the results sound threadbare, as if
emulating all the wrong features of Aram Khachaturian's
writing. The sonorities of The Mysterious Mountain,
however, are more conventional and better fleshed-out, making
it easier to like - Stokowski commissioned the score during
his Houston tenure, so perhaps Hovhaness tailored it to the
conductor's unique gifts for orchestral sound.
Based
on this performance, the piece couldn't have had a more persuasive
advocate. The strings everywhere are rich and (again) vibrant,
yet the textures remain translucent even at the peaks - none
of the heavy-syrup mode the conductor sometimes favored. The
booklet note cites "Oriental influences," but Stoky's
inflection of the broad modal melodies brings Vaughan Williams
to mind more than once. At the peak of the second movement,
horns and trumpets call across the strings' busywork to stirring
effect - another reminder of the symphony heard earlier - and
the third movement's closing string chorale winds things up
with grandeur and weight. Collectors will find this a nice
complement to Reiner's dignified, economical, and, in its way,
equally expressive RCA studio recording.
Predictably,
the outer sections of Paul Creston's Toccata are dominated
by elements of flashy display - I particularly enjoyed the
closing section, whose lively triple meter keeps it buoyant
even as the brass are fanfaring away. But the composer wisely
doesn't attempt to sustain that manner unvaried for twelve
minutes, offsetting the biggest passages with more lightly
scored ones, along with a lovely, extended lyrical episode
at 5:03 led off by the solo oboe. Stokowski's rhythmically
astute performance is most persuasive, even if the string accompaniment
in that lyric episode is a bit loud and thick.
For
a 1958 concert recording, the sound is surprisingly good stereo,
vivid and "present." The close, dry perspective,
however, combined with a subtle but distinct timbral distortion,
becomes aurally fatiguing over the program's duration, especially
at higher volume levels.