Of all the great Czech conductors of the past century - Talich, 
                  Kubelík, Ančerl, Neumann - Zdenek Chalabala is probably 
                  the most overlooked. There’s no reason for this; he’s 
                  an extraordinary colorist and this two-CD set presents an opportunity 
                  for more listeners to make his acquaintance. Chalabala excelled 
                  in music like this: exciting, vividly orchestrated and lavishly 
                  romantic. Everything here is superb. 
                    
                  Scheherazade leaps out of the speakers, or leaps as far 
                  as a mono recording can. The sharp opening blast yields to a 
                  pliant, rhapsodic, utterly lovely violin solo by a player who’s 
                  unnamed in the booklet. This begins a classic account which 
                  was once the exclusive property of hardcore collectors who bragged 
                  to each other about their good fortune in finding a copy of 
                  the Chalabala reading. We’re lucky to have it released 
                  widely like this: the opening movement rocks with oceanic drama, 
                  and the Calendar Prince sallies forth in a blaze of glory - 
                  note the very Czech tone of the central clarinet solo. This 
                  episode finishes with a climax that would make any conductor 
                  of today proud. You can even hear the piccolo! The third-movement 
                  love story is told with unusual expansiveness (11:33), occasional 
                  violin portamenti, and unusually rustic-sounding percussion. 
                  Only after 9:45 do things briefly feel a little rushed; maybe 
                  the lovers’ passion has got the best of them. The final 
                  movement is as good as it gets, the ending a perfect calm; it’s 
                  a classic reading, for sure. 
                    
                  The Czech Philharmonic winds bring their unique colors to the 
                  Rimsky-Korsakov version of Night on Bare Mountain. It’s 
                  one of those technicolor pieces where you regret the thinness 
                  of the timpani presence, but other than that the orchestra’s 
                  vibrancy is well-preserved - along with a bit of a problem with 
                  the violins keeping together at 4:53. Chalabala doesn’t 
                  treat the piece like a race-track, but he also maintains sharp 
                  rhythms and accents which make this a very good reading. 
                    
                  The second CD presents nearly an hour of highlights from Khachaturian’s 
                  ballet Gayane, including the most famous bits (Sabre 
                  Dance, Gayane’s Adagio, Gopak) and some 
                  which are more obscure (a ten-minute scene called Gayane 
                  and Giko). The Czech Philharmonic’s playing is superb 
                  throughout, indeed impossible to fault, while Chalabala’s 
                  leadership shapes this as legitimate ballet music rather than 
                  a collection of loud, vulgar party tunes. The only possible 
                  qualm is with the ordering of the excerpts; Gayane’s 
                  Adagio, which is my favorite part of the piece, and which 
                  is paced flawlessly here, is something I would have saved for 
                  near the end, while the Lezghinka would have made a more 
                  rousing finale than the excellently played Aisha’s 
                  Awakening.  
                  
                  All throughout, the digitally restored mono sound is excellent. 
                  It hails from 1953-1955 and is the kind of mono which is really 
                  just as good as some of the first stereo efforts. There are 
                  certainly no caveats necessary about acoustics, which in music 
                  as colorful as this comes as quite a relief. The booklet includes 
                  a brief but welcome biography of Chalabala, whose Dvorák 
                  symphonic poems really deserve reissue as well. Until those 
                  come along - please, Supraphon, please! - do enjoy this two-disc 
                  set. It’s a total delight and outstanding testimony to 
                  one of the century’s most overlooked conductors. 
                    
                  Brian Reinhart  
                Masterwork Index: Scheherazade