Despite my interest in Elgar’s music, I’ve never made much 
                  of a study of his acoustic recordings. It’s not because of antipathy 
                  to the acoustic process, as many of my 78s are acoustics. And 
                  it’s not because the recordings have nothing to tell us; they 
                  do, and a considerable amount. Partly, I suppose, it stems from 
                  the fact that he re-recorded much on electric HMVs. Regarding 
                  his first recorded thoughts on the Cello Concerto, the later 
                  electric with Beatrice Harrison, the same soloist in the acoustic 
                  version, is demonstrably finer - and it’s also not ‘cut’. Of 
                  the Violin Concerto, with Marie Hall, only 16 minutes was recorded. 
                  And his major undertaking, the Second Symphony, was soon to 
                  be superseded as well by an electric version. The Enigma 
                  Variations is a similar case in point as are other works. Partly 
                  too, I have to say, I wasn’t desperately keen on the Pearl transfers. 
                  These were previously the only way, short of getting the 78s 
                  themselves, to play the complete acoustic set of discs [GEMM 
                  CDS 9951-55]. I often found my concentration waning and despite 
                  my admiration for the company and their outstanding work on 
                  behalf of historic recordings, which needs to be recognised 
                  and saluted, I didn’t feel that this represented their very 
                  best work in the field. Listening again for points of comparison, 
                  I have to admit that the transfers now sound perfectly reasonable 
                  and consonant with the majority of Pearl’s other work – minimal 
                  intervention, no noise suppression, a high-ish level of shellac 
                  noise, with decent copies utilised.
                   
                  But now another opportunity has arisen. The discs come from 
                  Elgar’s own personal record library. Music & Arts make quite 
                  a thing of this and there is certainly a tangible feeling of 
                  association when one considers that each disc was owned and 
                  played by Elgar. After his collection was dispersed, one very 
                  adhesive individual – Arthur Reynolds - assiduously tracked 
                  down the discs and reconstructed the collection. I ought to 
                  point out that these are commercial copies; they are not test 
                  pressings. So there’s nothing inherently special about them, 
                  other than that they were all owned by the composer.
                   
                  The chance presented by this newly engineered set has proved 
                  very useful to me, therefore, to acquaint myself better with 
                  this body of recordings. I can say that the Pearl set has been 
                  superseded by Lani Spahr’s work. True, maybe some specialists 
                  would have preferred the advantage that preservation of some 
                  open top provides – the associated hiss is a small price to 
                  pay – but I think those who have previously cringed at the thought 
                  of horn recordings will be very pleasantly surprised at the 
                  depth of frequency response that Spahr has conjured through 
                  the use of his restoration system.
                   
                  A small point to note is that Pearl kept to a strict chronological 
                  run throughout their five discs which led to some to some discs 
                  lasting only 50 minutes or so. Music & Arts has not retained 
                  chronology and has therefore managed to fit the recordings onto 
                  four discs.
                   
                  It’s when one sifts around to note what Elgar didn’t re-record, 
                  however, that the significance of the recordings becomes more 
                  apparent. Sea Pictures is the major one, but there 
                  are others. I will take the set disc by disc, adding a few thoughts 
                  along the way to point out salient features of recording or 
                  style.
                   
                  His first ever recording was Carissima in January 1914, 
                  recorded in fact before the public premiere. There’s good depth 
                  to this and the pizzicati register well. The set, as noted, 
                  isn’t chronological, so the recordings jump around in time and 
                  space somewhat. Carissima is followed by the selection 
                  from The Sanguine Fan (never re-recorded) from 1920 
                  – where one can hear the individual slides from the small group 
                  of string players. The Fringes of the Fleet is a major 
                  acquisition as this is one of the works Elgar never returned 
                  to. Charles Mott is the star baritone – he was soon to die on 
                  the Western Front – and the other singers are Frederick Stewart, 
                  Harry Barratt and Frederick Henry. Mott was a stirring and noble 
                  singer though he didn’t have much of a voice per se. Fate’s 
                  Discourtesy is a real Roast Beef number, splendidly declaimed, 
                  although Submarines is musically the most sophisticated 
                  and ingenious bit of writing – quite well conveyed despite the 
                  problems inherent in acoustic recording. The unaccompanied vocal 
                  Inside the Bar was recorded later than the rest of 
                  the work. Henry Ainley was an old friend of the Elgars and his 
                  narration (intact, uncut) in Carillon reminds us of 
                  the actor to whom, much later, Laurence Olivier became close 
                  – and again this is a unique opportunity to hear Elgar’s only 
                  recording of the piece and of Polonia too; it’s cut 
                  in half onto two sides of a 78. Four sides in total would have 
                  been needed to record it all. The first disc ends with the incidental 
                  music to The Starlight Express with Charles Mott, once 
                  again, and soprano Agnes Nicholls, Hamilton Harty’s wife. This 
                  fanciful piece was recorded in February 1916 and comes across 
                  well, not least the bell chimes, the First Noel theme and, especially, 
                  the Wagnerian Curfew Song – a tremendous song, by the 
                  way.
                   
                  Disc 2 starts with a cruelly abridged Cockaigne – it 
                  lasts 4 minutes so don’t get your hopes up too high. Up to this 
                  point all the discs mentioned were recorded with the ‘Symphony 
                  Orchestra’, the generic name of an ad hoc band culled 
                  from London orchestras. But at this point we meet The Royal 
                  Albert Hall Orchestra, Landon Ronald’s finest, and they perform 
                  In the South in 1923. This is a well judged and well 
                  balanced recording and very persuasively done. There are small 
                  cuts and some tempo extremes and ensemble weakness but it’s 
                  a vigorous and sensitive performance. I wonder who the viola 
                  player was? Then we have the two concertos. The Violin Concerto 
                  was a riposte to the very slightly earlier Columbia recording 
                  with Albert Sammons and Henry Wood which provoked HMV to action. 
                  Out came Elgar’s red pen and he produced his own compact version 
                  with his one-time pupil, Marie Hall. This performance has always 
                  strongly divided opinion. Hall was certainly coached by Elgar 
                  though other British artists or domiciled fiddlers could have 
                  taken it on and indeed had been more associated with it – John 
                  Dunn, for one, or Michael Zacharewitsch, though neither artist 
                  actually recorded for HMV, which would have been a problem. 
                  Hall did record for HMV. Her downward portamenti and her very 
                  slow slides and sluggish lower strings are very much a period 
                  feature, ones that will startle. Elgar’s solution to the cadenza 
                  was to place it on the third side and then start the finale 
                  on the final side, which will also startle but was an eminently 
                  practical piece of work.
                   
                  The outer movements of the Cello Concerto bore the brunt of 
                  cutting. The soloist at the premiere had been Felix Salmond 
                  but he recorded for Columbia so HMV turned first to the famous 
                  Portuguese cellist Suggia – whose fee was excessive – and then 
                  to Beatrice Harrison. The performance differs little in effect 
                  from her electric recording though it can feel a touch rushed 
                  in the slow movement, and one or two of her slides are a bit 
                  ripe. This disc is completed by orchestral works. I don’t know 
                  what happened on 26 June 1914 but the reinforced bass and truly 
                  horrible string slides render Salut d’amour dead in 
                  the water. This is, in my view, probably Elgar’s worst recording 
                  of his own music, though I recall that Jerrold Northrop Moore, 
                  who knows about these things if anyone does, rated it very highly, 
                  indeed preferred it to the electrical remake of the late 1920s. 
                  The Prelude and Angel’s Farewell from Gerontius 
                  is a highly valuable and excellent 1917 recording, however, 
                  and redistributes admiration. So too the 1925 Meditation 
                  from The Light of Life – recorded just before electric 
                  recording came in.
                   
                  A major omission from Elgar’s electric discography was Sea 
                  Pictures. Clara Butt had earlier, in 1912, recorded Where 
                  Corals Lie but for this recording in 1922-23 the Welsh 
                  contralto Leila Megane was selected. She makes a fine go of 
                  it, and if the recording isn’t quite up to some of the more 
                  opulent scoring, or to the upper part of Megane’s voice, we 
                  can still admire an appreciable performance. One stanza is cut 
                  from Where Corals Lie. Next is the Enigma 
                  Variations, sensibly entrusted to the RAHO not the ‘symphony 
                  orchestra’. This was recorded between February 1920 and May 
                  1921, a hiatus caused by the death of Elgar’s wife. The reinforced 
                  bass line is rather too audible – it has serio-comic implications 
                  in Dorabella in particular - and the playing can be 
                  a bit scrappy. It’s a shame that Nimrod is cut. As 
                  a performance it’s a touch faster than the subsequent electric 
                  re-make. The two Pomp and Circumstance Marches he recorded 
                  acoustically were Nos. 1 and 4. They were products of 26 June 
                  1914. There was serious cutting of the First and it’s remarkable 
                  how slowly he takes the trio, which was the main focus of the 
                  recording with the rest being mauled almost to oblivion. The 
                  companion March is taken at a better tempo, but again I have 
                  to say that this was the product of that very disappointing 
                  session, with once again lazy slides aplenty. As if to prove 
                  that things were in fact recoverable, The Marksman 
                  – from the Three Bavarian Dances – was also recorded 
                  on that day and is very much better. I suspect the players were 
                  much less familiar with it and had their heads down reading 
                  without the luxury of co-ordinating mass slides. The Bach and 
                  Handel works that end this CD are grandly and convincingly conveyed.
                   
                  The final disc includes both The Wand of Youth suites 
                  with, altogether, six unpublished sides into the bargain. These 
                  unpublished or variant takes survived in Elgar’s own music library 
                  and were first released on the Pearl LP, and subsequently transferred 
                  to their CD. But the major undertaking, indeed Elgar’s biggest 
                  acoustic recording, was the 1924-25 version of the Second Symphony. 
                  It is uncut and Elgar directs the RAHO (with 50 players). Apart 
                  from one or two moments in the opening movement, when there’s 
                  a feeling of over-metricality, this is a magnificent achievement 
                  with some highly effective moments of almost chamber intimacy. 
                  It is, in many ways, the apotheosis of Elgar’s career in the 
                  studios thus far, and prefigures the glories enshrined in the 
                  electrical legacy to come.
                   
                  This is an impressive box. The booklet is 35 pages long and 
                  includes year-by-year session commentary by Andrew Neill. There 
                  are excellent, well reproduced photographs. If, like me, you 
                  shied away from the bulk of these recordings before, I think 
                  now you need have no real fears. Incidentally for those who 
                  do purchase the set – four CDs priced as three, by the way – 
                  the following information I received from Music & Arts may 
                  be helpful:-
                  
                  “Information received from Music & Arts regarding the booklet;
                  Page 5 – The 16 as in April is missing from the Light of 
                  Life session
                  Page 22 – line 17, change August for July and in line 20 change 
                  14 August to 27 July
                  Page 6 – The Bach Fantasia was recorded on 26 October 1923 and 
                  the Fugue on 7 December not the other way around.
                  Page 13 – The picture of the acoustic recording session “in 
                  Milan” on Page 13 appears in the book "His Master's 
                  Voice" in America (edited by Frederick O. Barnum III) on 
                  Page 80 and there the same picture is identified as Rosario 
                  Bourdon conducting the Victor Orchestra in Camden, NJ in September, 
                  1916.  We have been unable to resolve this contradiction.”
                   
                  Jonathan Woolf
                   
                  Track-listing
                CD 1
                  Carissima (1914) [3:48]
                  The Sanguine Fan, Op. 81 (1917) [4:28]
                  The Fringes of the Fleet (1917) [17:38]
                  Frederick Stewart (Baritone), Harry Barratt (Baritone), 
                  Frederick Henry (Baritone), Charles Mott (Baritone)
                  Carillon, Op. 75 (1914) [7:06]
                  Polonia, Op. 76 (1915) [8:20]
                  Starlight Express, Op. 78 (1915) [30:05]
                  CD 2
                  Cockaigne Overture, Op. 40 "In London Town" (1900-01) 
                  [4:12]
                  In the South, Op. 50 "Alassio" (1903-04) [16:04] ¹
                  Royal Albert Hall Orchestra
                  Concerto for Violin in B minor, Op. 61 (1910) [16:01]
                  Marie Hall (Violin)
                  Concerto for Cello in E minor, Op. 85 (1919) [16:10]
                  Beatrice Harrison (Cello)
                  Salut d'amour, Op. 12 (1889) [3:51]
                  Chanson de nuit, Op. 15 no 1 (1897) [4:10]
                  Scenes from the Saga of King Olaf, Op. 30 - A Little Bird (1894-96) 
                  [3:23] ¹
                  The Dream of Gerontius, Op. 38 (1900); Prelude and Softly and 
                  Gently "Angel's Farewell" [4:40]
                  The Light of Life, Op. 29: no 1, Meditation (1896) [4:50] ¹
                  CD 3
                  Sea Pictures, Op. 37 (1899) [18:15]
                  Variations on an Original Theme, Op. 36 "Enigma" (1899) 
                  [26:15] ¹
                  Pomp and Circumstance Marches (5), Op. 39: no 1 in D major (1901) 
                  [4:32]
                  Pomp and Circumstance Marches (5), Op. 39: no 4 in G major (1907) 
                  [3:53]
                  Bavarian Dances (3) Op.27 (1895) [9:47]
                  Fantasy and Fugue in C minor, Op. 86 (Bach, BWV 537) (1922) 
                  [7:59] ¹
                  Chandos Anthems: no 2, In the Lord I put my trust, HWV 247 by 
                  George Frideric Handel (1717-18) orchestrated by Elgar [4:32] 
                  ¹
                  CD 4
                  The Wand of Youth Suite no 1, Op. 1a (1907) [9:45]
                  The Wand of Youth Suite no 1, Op. 1a (1907) unpublished takes 
                  [7:40]
                  The Wand of Youth Suite no 2, Op. 1b (1907) [8:40]
                  The Wand of Youth Suite no 2, Op. 1b (1907) unpublished takes 
                  [3:22]
                  Symphony no 2 in E flat major, Op. 63 (1911) [45:44] ¹
                  Symphony Orchestra/Edward Elgar
                  Royal Albert Hall Orchestra/Edward Elgar ¹
                  rec. 1914-25, London