AVAILABILITY 
                www.symposiumrecords.co.uk 
              
Following their first 
                Ionisation disc (inspired by the Varèse 
                piece of the same name of course) we 
                have volume No II, an equally diverting 
                and eclectic brew. It certainly makes 
                for diverting juxtapositions – I’m fairly 
                sure this is the first time you will 
                listen to four Bruckner Scherzi in a 
                row (though doubtless that’s how Thomas 
                Beecham preferred his Bruckner) and 
                it’s not often that Toscanini’s surgingly 
                frenzied Tallis Fantasia is programmed 
                alongside the rare New Music Quarterly 
                recordings that Nicolas Slonimsky made 
                of various movements culled from Ives. 
                If you fancy, in addition, hearing the 
                Weimar banjoings of Mark Lothar or Egk’s 
                impressionism-cum-Spanishry then this 
                might be the disc for you. Those of 
                a less lurid frame of mind or those 
                whose wish to be battered by Bruckner 
                Scherzi might be less pronounced might 
                well want to start with Roussel’s recording 
                of his own ballet Le Festin de l’Araignée. 
              
 
              
Roussel’s 1929 recording, 
                with a short "autographe vocal" 
                - that’s to say a little speech appended 
                (something the French record companies 
                were keen to enshrine – and bravo to 
                them for it) - allows one to hear a 
                shorter than expected series of symphonic 
                extracts. The uncredited orchestra, 
                presumably a freelance affair, furnishes 
                Roussel with crisp and incisive rhythm 
                and a real sense of style (try the Rideau 
                et Entrée des Fourmis) as 
                well as a Waltz full of bustling and 
                bright colour. The idiomatic winds shine 
                in the fluttery Death of the Mayfly. 
                Other recordings were made of the ballet 
                around this time, by Staram and his 
                orchestra on Columbia and by the Opéra-Comique 
                under Fourestier on French Pathé 
                but there is a real frisson listening 
                to Roussel. The Bruckners were part 
                of a drive to test the waters for fuller 
                recordings. We have the Scherzi from 
                No "0," 1, 2 and 3. Fritz 
                Zaun (1893-1966) was a capable conductor 
                – and a more than useful partner for 
                soloists – but the most convincing performance 
                is that of No. 3 by Anton Konrath whose 
                extract was recorded in 1930. Mark Lothar 
                was born in Berlin and studied there 
                under Schreker, later pursuing composition 
                lessons with Wolf-Ferrari. He wrote 
                operas (Tyll in 1928, Lord 
                Spleen in 1930, Münchausen 
                in 1933 and on throughout the 1930s) 
                and was a music director in Berlin and 
                Munich. The brief extract here shows 
                an agreeably frivolous turn of mind, 
                with plantation style banjo and hints 
                of a kind of Russo-Egyptian ethos. I’m 
                not sure if these kinds of Weimar hijinks 
                could survive long in his work – and 
                it’s likely that the later operas conformed 
                more to the dictates of state imposed 
                Volksoper – it would be nice to know 
                for sure. 
              
 
              
Egk’s Kleine Abraxas 
                Suite is by turns seething in impressionist 
                nuance and then, come the second movement 
                Dance, coloured by Spanish colour and 
                the clack of the castanets. He was always 
                a more subtle composer than history 
                has allowed and the 1951 sound accorded 
                Fricsay and his Berlin forces allows 
                one to hear the orchestration and admire 
                it. Toscanini’s eruptive Tallis dates 
                from 1945 and we finish with Ives – 
                his In the Night and a Barn 
                Dance throbbing with warped Americana 
                and scattershot quotation. Good especially 
                to have these rare sides available. 
              
 
              
Pioneer orchestral 
                recordings is the subtitle of this 
                disc and that’s no mistake though I 
                prefer to see it as a reference disc 
                that preserves some notable examples 
                in otherwise unavailable form. Fine 
                sound. 
              
 
              
Jonathan Woolf