"Are you nervous?" Stokowski’s question, 
          addressed to the laughing Philadelphia audience in October 1935 as they 
          launched themselves into a Pension Fund concert singsong of La Marseillaise, 
          might equally well apply to the prospective purchaser of this disc. 
          Though it is a necessarily haphazard compilation this thoroughly engaging 
          CD collates previously unreleased recordings spanning the years 1927-44 
          and featuring three of the orchestras Stokowski led. 
        
 
        
A number of arcane things are here – notably the riotous 
          and shout-strewn Philadelphia Balance Test March composed, if that’s 
          not too strong a word for it, by Stokowski himself. Those of a nervous 
          disposition, harbouring aesthetically unsullied thoughts as to the spiritual 
          purity of that great orchestra, should perhaps programme their CD beforehand 
          to omit track two. More robust listeners will have a good laugh. The 
          Handel, though obviously anachronistic, is a splendid example of the 
          conductor’s maintenance of line and overlapping strings at a slow tempo. 
          We are lucky to have the 1937 recording of the Strauss since so little 
          of Stokowski’s Strauss has survived. This is a valuable addition, excellently 
          recorded, not utterly secure, but perfectly idiomatic. The Tchaikovsky 
          Marche Slave from his trio of recordings here with the NBC Orchestra 
          is a blaring and vigorous outing, maybe too much so for some ears. The 
          longest piece is a Stokowski favourite, Romeo and Juliet, with the quiet 
          ending he advocated. It is otherwise a tremendous performance, and fully 
          worthy to be disinterred here. Elsewhere the arrangements are variously 
          exotically or robustly clothed in Stokowskian garb – enjoy especially 
          the Scriabin – and considering their extreme rarity the copies have 
          survived in remarkably good shape. Kudos to Cala. 
        
 
        
        
Jonathan Woolf