Here 
                we have an attractive selection of Tchaikovsky’s ‘Greatest Hits’ 
                beautifully and powerfully performed and very well recorded, except 
                that in the early selections the deepest bass is conspicuously 
                absent, there being nothing on the disk below about 90 Hz. This 
                reminds one of LP mastering tapes which were filtered this way 
                to avoid causing groove skips on cheap players. (Maybe they’ll 
                put the low frequencies back in for the DVD-Audio edition?) It 
                is most disturbing during the Marche Slav where the distinction 
                between bass drum and timpani is lost. If you attempt to compensate 
                by turning your bass control up, you’ll be sorry when the cannons 
                come on in the "1812" and take out your woofers if not 
                your eardrums! In contrast to many recordings where the credits 
                for the brass band, bell players and artillerymen occupy half 
                the program notes, there is here nary a mention; but when the 
                time comes no recording has more delirious bells, sharper brass 
                or more aggressively authentic cannon sounds than this one. But 
                I do also like Karajan’s innovation of having the introductory 
                chorale sung by a male choir rather than played as usual on the 
                strings as here.  
              
 
              
Before 
                we leave off talking about Marche Slav we might recall 
                that more than 70 years ago a young firebrand of a conductor made 
                a justly famous recording of this rousing work on 78s. His name 
                was Adrian Boult.  
              
 
              
The 
                Capriccio Italien is a problematical work. The allegedly 
                Italian philosophy it expounds, that is to say, "when times 
                are bad and all else fails, go out dancing," has rarely been 
                more pointedly expressed, but the contrast is too stark and it 
                takes too long to get going, and when we finally get to dancing 
                we get too drunk too fast. Paul van Kempen did the best job I’ve 
                heard of balancing all this out.  
              
 
              
The 
                Dance of the Tumblers was completely new to me, and I naturally 
                had it confused with the piece of the same name by Rimsky-Korsakov. 
                But a piece of completely new Tchaikovsky is as welcome as it 
                is hard to come by.  
              
 
              
The 
                Scherchen recording was the very first LP I ever bought and I’ve 
                heard it so many times it’s probably part of my genetic code by 
                now. No other recording could actually ever replace it in my affection, 
                although this Romeo and Juliet is within a razor’s thickness 
                of doing so and is certainly the finest stereo version I’ve ever 
                heard.  
              
 
              
Amazingly, 
                even ignoring 50 years of currency inflation, I paid more for 
                that monophonic vinyl disk than you might pay for this digital 
                stereo Naxos CD.  
              
 
              
Paul 
                Shoemaker