This is the sequel to Naxos American Classics' first volume 
        of Grofé's populist suites. 
         
        
Stromberg does these with a wink and without condescension. 
          It is as tough to play Grofé as it is to play Ketèlbey. 
        
 
        
The Hollywood Suite is in the pattern of a poem 
          of scenes from the heyday of the omnipotent studios rather than the 
          celebrity pictorial you find in works by Koechlin (Seven Stars Symphony) 
          and Louis Aubert (Cinema). From the relaxed archly smiling Sweepers 
          (complete with brush sounds), to the 'Grand Hotel' waltz of The Stand-In 
          (who takes her moment of stardom), to the uproar and chaotic Elgarian 
          bustle of Carpenters and Electricians, to the Busby Berkeley 
          parody of Production Number to the Director-Star-Enemble in 
          which the life and death power of the Director is followed by 
          the lush (Korngold and Waxman in limelight) Star and all is rounded 
          out by the final magniloquent flourish. This is a skilful evocation 
          though lacking memorable themes. 
        
 
        
If the Hollywood Suite is a slightly more gauche 
          version of Samuel Barber's contemporaneous ballet suite Souvenirs 
          then The Hudson River Suite is a sort of American Vltava 
          with incursions from Delius's Florida Suite. The Hudson River 
          movement shows none of the usual lapses in taste. Henry Hudson as 
          pictured here is a rather placid man. Rip Van Winkle is rambunctious, 
          jaunty and a mite boozy. The echoes are from Malcolm Arnold's score 
          for Hobson's Choice. Rip whistles for his dog and a member of 
          the orchestra barks. The story would have worked well for Arnold in 
          his heyday. Albany Night Boat reeks a little of Ravel in Bolero 
          and in Rapsodie Espagnole in the high string harmonics. A little 
          Arnoldian whisky haze also settles. New York! is like a wild 
          man's answer to Ligeti, Ives and Mossolov - a brief howling wail of 
          a piece. 
        
 
        
Inventive orchestration of such supercharged pictorial 
          filmic quality also marks out the Death Valley Suite where you 
          can almost taste the dust and see the skeletal heads and horns projecting 
          from the sand. The Oh Susannah dance in The Water Hole 
          is a typically gauche interlude but Grofé gathers himself for 
          a majestic finale in Sand Storm. Grofé's way with landscape 
          and history painting is phenomenal. The track to sample is the baleful 
          Funeral Mountains which have their share of crushing macabre 
          Mussorgskian weight. 
        
 
        
Grofé wrote plenty of orchestral music and his 
          pictorial suites are well able to stand in company with Eric Coates, 
          Haydn Wood, Montague Phillips and the rest. He had ten years from 1906 
          with the Los Angeles PO and then joined the Paul Whiteman orchestra. 
          There he did much orchestration which won them world-wide sales and 
          concerts. He famously orchestrated Gershwin's Rhapsody in Blue 
          and was with the orchestra in its epochal tour of Europe in 1924. Visual 
          references were his stock in trade and it is some wonder that he was 
          not active in films. He died after multiple heart attacks in Philip 
          Marlowe country - Santa Monica, California. 
        
 
        
This shortish disc has plenty of scope for sequels 
          which could include Metropolis, Mississippi Suite, Killarney Irish suite, 
          Rudy Vally Suite and Tabloid Suite 
        
 
        
The quality of the playing here lacks nothing in glee 
          and zest. Any conductor and orchestra who wants to make something of 
          a Grofé project needs to paint in Rimskian primary colours and 
          that is what Stromberg and the lads and lasses from the Pine Tree resort 
          do. Dan Godfrey would have been proud of them. 
        
 
         
        
Rob Barnett