These were amongst the most famous of all early LPs. 
          The Stravinsky came out first and astounded much of the musical world 
          with the clarity and detail of the sound. The performances were equally 
          marvellous and, as we can hear today, Ansermet’s direction was an accumulation 
          of skill and experience such as to mark him as one of the most assured 
          of all Stravinsky conductors. He had first conducted Petrushka for Diaghilev 
          and in 1949 he led his own Suisse Romande Orchestra – which he had founded 
          in 1918 and was to conduct for the next forty-nine years - into the 
          Geneva Studios for a two day session that was to have lasting repercussions. 
        
 
        
It was John Culshaw who noted Ansermet’s ability to 
          balance an orchestra without recourse to recording engineers and gave 
          him great credit for these discs’ success saying that it wasn’t simply 
          Decca’s new techniques but also "Ansermet’s quality of sound 
          that gave them such individuality." And that is abundantly 
          true. The balance and clarity is certainly audible but so is the sheer 
          warmth of sound – listen to the rhythmic sophistication and generosity 
          of The Shrovetide Fair or, better still, the piano and trumpet 
          exchanges in Petrushka’s Room. There is tremendous presence and 
          atmosphere here, an absence of distracting surface noise and an internal 
          clarity to Ansermet’s conducting that all cohere to produce a reading 
          of such startling conviction. 
        
 
        
Ansermet’s knowledge of the Rossini-Respighi was almost 
          as intimate as Petrushka. He’d first conducted a run of performances, 
          again for Diaghilev, in 1919. This 1950 recording was, unlike the Stravinsky, 
          his only example on record but it’s sufficient to say that it remains 
          a near definitive account of the score. The LSO are in tremendous form 
          and orchestral felicities abound, abetted by Ansermet’s rhythmic malleability 
          and expertise. The bounce and brio of the Introduction and Tarantella 
          are infectious – note the tambourine’s prominence and naturalness – 
          and Ansermet brings out the inner voicings and the chirpily vivacious 
          woodwind. The Mazurka and Scene feature some real delicacy from the 
          strings and elegance from the bassoonist and, it may sound spurious 
          to add but is not, Ansermet’s perfect control of the orchestral pause 
          – judged to absolute perfection. The strings are scintillating and slithery 
          in the Can Can, the trumpets are punchy, we can hear xylophone and triangle 
          with extraordinary clarity and there is a real sense of an in-built 
          drive to the music and that is entirely Ansermet’s doing. This is followed 
          immediately by the Danse lente and notable for other virtues – superb 
          dynamics, sly and witty characterisation, and brilliant orchestral exchanges. 
          The Scene and Nocturne are slightly spooky – deeply atmospheric with 
          their harp and cello solos in the Nocturne and wonderfully sensitive 
          phrasing. 
        
 
        
If you missed the original Deccas or their various 
          incarnations over the years here is a perfect opportunity to listen 
          to these milestones of recorded sound and admire once more performances 
          of intoxicating drama, wit and depth. 
        
 
         
        
Jonathan Woolf