Derived from two NBC
concerts given in November 1942 and
April 1944 these all-American concerts
(given that Loeffler was born in Alsace
and Mignone in Sao Paulo) demonstrate
the range of Toscanini’s enthusiasms
and expertise. We get an invigorating
slice of his fringe repertoire in recordings
that presumably derive from discs supervised
by Richard Gardner, a favoured recording
engineer of Toscanini’s. They sound
very well indeed with some exceptional
spatial detail audible, not least in
the earlier concert. Allied to which
the repertoire ranges from cantilena
to melodrama and back again and makes
for a satisfying programme.
Loeffler’s tone poem
is peasant dark with an admixture of
Russian threnody to which we can add
Mussourgskian surge and a sense of evocative
romanticism; maybe also a sly reference
to Volga Boatmen. Its last movement,
commemorating a death, is eerie in the
extreme and beautifully extrapolated
by Toscanini. Paul Creston’s Choric
Dance No. 2 opens quite melodramatically
and soon explores rhythmic implications
with concentration and vivacity; more
an exercise than a totally convincing
piece but certainly bracing. This was
the première of Morton Gould’s
A Lincoln Legend, a piece that opens
with contemplative string writing but
soon introduces a raft of quotations
(John Brown’s Body among a number) in
a determinedly vulgar melange – at least
I think it’s determinedly vulgar. After
the tumultuous Americana we return to
the more reflective intimacies that
had ushered us in.
The 1942 concert and
the first disc conclude here with Rhapsody
in Blue in a performance given by Earl
Wild. He was the youngest soloist to
have played with the orchestra and always
wondered why he and not a raft of others
had been selected. Wild reminisced elsewhere
that he later found out that Toscanini
used to listen in to NBC’s chamber concerts
on Sunday mornings and had heard Wild
there – a more or less humble NBC staffer
catapulted to fame. The Rhapsody comes
complete with a celebrity clarinettist
in the shape of Benny Goodman, soon
to test classical waters with the Budapest
Quartet but not yet a student of the
legendary English player Reginald Kell.
His nervousness shows with a fluffed
note at a registral change but it’s
salutary to hear Goodman’s wailing opening
bars. Toscanini unfolds during the performance
and Wild is fine though not as idiomatic
as he was later to become (especially
with Fiedler); the ending is magnificent
though and properly conclusive.
Mignone’s Festa das
igrejas evokes the solemn simplicity
of Brazilian religious contemplation
before unleashing fiesta drama with
buoyant parts for piano and bass pizzicati.
Mignone certainly introduces lashings
of colour, alongside the rapt passages
for solo strings and the brassy processionals
and fanfares, ending the piece in pearly
– maybe gaudy – grandiosity and rambunctious
Christmas festivities. It’s played here
with dollops of wit and rhythmic drive.
The 1944 concert ends with the Concerto
in F with Oscar Levant as soloist. Levant
had first worked with Toscanini the
previous year and had pointed out something
in the score of the Concerto in F to
the conductor. According to Levant’s
memoirs the Italian sniffed a bit and
said "Thatta poor boy…he was a-sick"
and that was that. I’ve read that there
was considerable antipathy between soloist
and conductor, but Levant was generous
to Toscanini in his autobiographies
and said his accompaniment in the Gershwin
was "truly remarkable." There
are perhaps one or two moments when
one feels Levant chaffing somewhat but
it’s a cohesive performance and very
well recorded.
Imagine my frustration
on reading the booklet notes that in
the first sentence contain the names
of American conductors previously unknown
to me – John Barnett and Richard Bales
amongst them – and the feeling of piqued
animosity thus engendered towards the
writer. He turns out to be Rob Barnett,
editor of this site. There’s no place
for sycophancy here but he writes with
his accustomed blend of authority, energy,
adjectival incandescence and the unearthing
of unusual nuggets in a style that has
come to be known as Barnettian. It caps
a fruitful and splendidly enjoyable
double from Guild.
Jonathan Woolf
Earl Wild (piano) and Benny Goodman (clarinet)
in the Rhapsody in Blue 