Pentatone have started to license Quadraphonic recordings from the 1970s
Deutsche Grammophon catalogue for reissue as SACDs. They have had
considerable success for several years with a long list of recordings from
the Philips catalogue of the same period, revealing just how good those
early surround experiments were. The only problem at the time they were
recorded was the medium. The LP was, and still is, a very fine way to issue
stereo recordings, but it was never good for matrixed or discrete
quadraphony because of tracing and phase issues. Three of the major
companies made 4-channel master recordings but only EMI issued a significant
number on vinyl. Oddly EMI's back catalogue remains in some vault
and, to my knowledge, no one is planning to let us hear the results any time
soon. I would like to hope Pentatone is negotiating with whoever now owns
this treasury.
This Berlioz issue proves that those early experiments went way beyond
merely providing the sound with some acoustic space. Here we have a fully
fledged and remarkably successful attempt really to use the four channels to
enhance the drama. Just as Decca made so much of the stereo only
'sonicstage' for such as the Solti 'Ring', DG
had tried here to give us a 'quadrasonic stage' with effects
well beyond simple spaciousness. For 42 years this has remained
unpublicised.
When this recording was reviewed in EMG's Monthly Letter in
November 1974 they reported grumpily, "There are many good things in
this performance, though they are often lost in a cavernous acoustic that
would be more suitable for Bruckner than Berlioz." If only they had
been able to hear what the engineers had captured on four track tape, for
this has to be the best reason to buy a surround system that I have heard
for some time. Before detailing some of these effects I must emphasize that
I checked, and yes the SACD stereo tracks are absolutely top class making
this issue worthwhile for all listeners. Even if in stereo the front to back
spatial effects are unavailable, the engineers clearly made all the best
decisions in the down mix. The stereo is actually easier to listen to
because there are no aural shocks.
In surround the first few words from Faust - sung brilliantly throughout
by Stuart Burrows - seemed very distant but he starts to move into focus
after a few bars. The chorus in Scenes 2 and 3 come from behind, though more
right than left. I began to wonder if the engineers had made use of the
famously good acoustic of Boston's Symphony Hall by placing the
chorus on the balcony which runs around the sides and back. The Hungarian
March has a very spacious sound, almost beyond the front stage, and I must
highlight the fantastic brass playing here and elsewhere. The Chorus of
Drinkers in Scene 6 is split into groups sounding from both surround
channels and the voice of Brander is also behind the listener. The famous
Amen Fugue seems to emanate from everywhere, whilst Méphistophélès - Donald
McIntyre on superb form - is obviously moving around on the front stage. The
Chorus of Gnomes and Sylphs has an everywhere feeling reflecting
Berlioz's instructions that they 'hover around'. The
chorus of students sounds to be processing around the hall. In case readers
think this must be a dreadful mess, I should stress that the orchestra are
always firmly where they should be. The only movement is movement clearly
implied by Berlioz's libretto. Scenes 10 and 11 utilise subtle
placement of voices so as to draw one into the events. Marguerite's
entry sounds like an entrance and her song 'The King of Thule'
is all the more magical for this spacious preparation. Edith Mathis is not
the steadiest of singers but she sings well and often makes a very beautiful
sound. Most important, she characterises well and is most affecting. The BSO
violas and cellos are superbly delicate here. At the end of Scene 15 when
Marguerite looks out over the sleeping town she moves to the rear channels
and, with the distant choruses of students and soldiers, we feel as if we
too are looking out over the scene. In Scene 18 when Méphistophélès summons
the horses so that he and Faust can ride to the rescue of Marguerite - at
least that is what Faust believes, but having signed the parchment he is in
fact en route to Hell - the engineers briefly manipulate balances so the
music of the horses gallops around from the side to the front to meet
Méphistophélès and then gallops away into the distance. The Ride to the
Abyss is always a show-stopper. Here, with orchestra playing fit to bust and
a chorus that seems to whirl around on all sides, the listener is in a sort
of vortex, ending with the howl of despair as Faust is taken down into the
underworld. It is a daring display of imaginative sound engineering of which
someone should be proud.
This would all be to no avail had not Ozawa and his Boston forces been on
such great form. This is quite the most exciting
Faust I have heard
on record, putting even Solti at least a touch in the shade. I wonder if
Pentatone plan on issuing Ozawa's superb 1976 DG
Roméo et
Juliette or whether indeed these experiments in quadraphony were still
continuing three years after the present issue.
Dave Billinge
