When it came to Dvořák’s
New World symphony,
Leopold Stokowski was very much a man of his times. For whereas
performance practice
today tends to play down the score’s perceived Americanisms and to stress
instead its elements characteristic of the composer’s Bohemian heritage,
Stokowski did all he could to play up the former as much as he could.
Indeed, in a recorded supplement to his 1927 recording, he expatiated at length
on the way that Dvořák had been inspired by, among other influences, “the
wild beauty of the West and the vast lonely spaces of Arizona and New Mexico” -
even though the composer, who worked in New York City and travelled no further
afield than Spillville, Iowa, had not the slightest physical acquaintance with
either.
Perhaps Stokowski can be excused, however, for Dvořák himself, in
some vague or even downright misleading statements, had happily led his adoring
American public on. Thus, when, after saying on arrival in the US that “Negro
melodies... are the folk songs of America and your composers
must turn
to them”, he soon went on to compose a new symphony himself, it was only
natural to assume that he had lived up to his own dictum - even though the words “
your composers” clearly
suggest that that Dvořák believed that musical nationalism remained
something innate and not to be acquired simply on disembarkation at Ellis Island.
Similarly, when he said later of the
New World that he had “simply
written original themes embodying the peculiarities of... Indian music, and,
using these themes as subjects, have developed them with all the resources of
modern rhythms, counterpoint,
and orchestral colour”, American musical jingoes were happy to stress thereafter
the mention of native music and to downplay the references to original themes
and modern compositional technique.
Stokowski’s US-centric view of the
New World was, nonetheless, far
from a universally adopted one at the time, even in the United States itself.
Toscanini, for instance, may well have been the man who tacked on a rousing chorus
of
The Star-Spangled Banner to Verdi’s
Hymn of the Nations,
but he certainly eschewed Americanisms entirely when setting down a 1953
New
World that placed Dvořák’s score firmly in the European
classical tradition.
Accepting Stokowski’s view as a given, then, this performance emerges as
a hugely enjoyable one: Richard Gate’s useful booklet notes point out that
it was, in fact, one of the conductor’s best-selling recordings, selling
more than 40,000 copies for RCA. True enough, Stokowski plays, as he does so
often, very much to the gallery. He stretches out the crowd-pleasing
largo to
13:46, for instance,
which is longer than any other version that I found
on my own shelves - the runner-up is Rafael Kubelik, 1973, at 13:04; then comes
Evgeni Svetlanov, 1981, 12:59; Václav Talich, 1951, 12:42; Erich Kleiber,
1929, 12:25; Witold Rowicki, 1969, 11:32; Arturo Toscanini, 1953, 10:35; and
finally a clock-busting account from the much-underrated Paul Paray, 1960, 10:13,
that cuts more than 3½ minutes off Stokowski’s time. There is also
characteristic crowd pleasing of a more questionable, if admittedly thrilling,
kind in the finale, where Stokowski not only augments the brass but even adds
his own percussion - a dramatic if rather vulgar tam-tap stroke at 10:40. As
far as I was aware, the tam-tam, or more properly, the
chau gong, originated
in East Asia - but maybe the polymath Stokowski knew of examples unearthed by
archaeologists in “the vast lonely spaces of Arizona and New Mexico”?
The various Schubert pieces that complete this disc are also, in places, at least
one step removed from the composer. My colleague Jonathan Woolf, in his own review
of this CD, has described them as somewhat reminiscent of Lyons Corner House
arrangements. Younger readers will perhaps not be familiar with the reference
- although the last Corner House was closed as late as 1977 - but a
Wikipedia entry
describes them as art deco cafeterias that were “colourful and bustling...
[and that] provided a degree of escapist relaxation.” As such, Jonathan’s
comparison with Stokowski’s Schubert is not only absolutely spot on but
could well, indeed, be applied to the rest of this highly enjoyable disc.
Rob Maynard
see also review by Jonathan
Woolf
Leopold Stokowski and his Symphony
Orchestra 
