When I first began 
                buying LPs there were "great conductors": 
                Stokowski, Koussevitzky, Beecham, Monteux, 
                Walter, Toscanini, Boult, Mengelberg 
                and Weingartner. When recordings by 
                Scherchen began appearing on an audiophile 
                label few critics or collectors of my 
                acquaintance took him seriously, figuring 
                he was just somebody available on the 
                cheap to provide an inoffensive recording 
                for the sound engineers to fiddle with. 
                Friends would mispronounce his name 
                and giggle. It wasn’t long, however, 
                before critics and collectors woke up 
                and showed some respect. At one time 
                during the late 1950s the Scherchen 
                recordings of the Bach Mass in b, St. 
                Matthew Passion, and Cantata #54; Handel’s 
                Messiah; the complete Beethoven and 
                late Haydn Symphonies; the Mozart Requiem; 
                Berlioz’s Requiem and Symphonie Fantastique; 
                Rossini’s William Tell Overture; Liszt’s 
                Piano Concertos and Hungarian Rhapsodies; 
                Mahler’s Fifth and Seventh Symphonies; 
                Tchaikovsky’s Romeo and Juliet; Weber’s 
                overtures; Stravinsky’s Petrouchka and 
                Firebird Suite; and Honegger’s Pacific 
                231 were all hailed by 
                many critics as the best available versions 
                both for performance and 
                for recorded sound. Not one of the "Great 
                Conductors" had even recorded all 
                these works, let alone recorded them 
                well, let alone made landmark recordings 
                of them. Nobody laughed any more. 
              
 
              
Scherchen, like Leopold 
                Stokowski, was very knowledgeable in 
                the technical area of the recording 
                process, but, unlike Stokowski, was 
                primarily concerned with clarity, detail 
                and realism in his recordings. Also, 
                unlike Stokowski, he knew when to back 
                out of the process and let the engineers 
                do their job without interference which 
                earned him their respect and their willingness 
                to collaborate creatively. 
              
 
              
Unfortunately Westminster 
                made a number of bad business decisions 
                about this time which headed the company 
                towards eventual bankruptcy, one of 
                which decisions was to be sparing about 
                recording in stereo which many persons, 
                even many audiophiles, still thought 
                of as a temporary craze. The first bankruptcy 
                of Westminster was just before Scherchen’s 
                death in 1966. His name all but disappeared 
                from concert billings and the recording 
                catalogues. Over the next 20 years his 
                recordings would appear briefly here 
                and there on LP bargain reprint labels, 
                including a barely resuscitated Westminster 
                functioning successively as a division 
                of several other companies. 
              
 
              
In the mid-1980s MCA, 
                who had eventually come to own the Westminster 
                tapes, reissued a number of his better 
                sounding recordings transferred to CDs, 
                and a new generation of collectors came 
                to know him, confronted with the astonishing 
                consistent quality of his artistic production. 
                Many of these recordings still sounded 
                as good as then new recordings. A new 
                Scherchen public began to develop creating 
                a market for additionally discovered 
                recordings and today we are as much 
                aware of the gaps in the Scherchen discography 
                than of its wide range. We are deeply 
                in debt to Scherchen’s daughter, Dr. 
                Myriam Scherchen, for establishing TAHRA 
                records and searching out and publishing 
                radio transcriptions and tapes from 
                minor labels and sharing with us her 
                family photograph album and many fascinating 
                recollections. 
              
 
              
Scherchen was as admiring 
                of — and as well acquainted with — Mahler 
                as Bruno Walter was, and his interpretations, 
                while quite different, must be regarded 
                as equally authoritative. Unfortunately 
                we do not have a complete Mahler cycle: 
                number four is missing completely (Scherchen 
                didn’t care for it and rarely performed 
                it) and of number six we have only a 
                cut and under-rehearsed radio performance 
                of what would have been the most amazing 
                performance of the work ever done. Of 
                Scherchen’s long dedicated friendship 
                with Arnold Schoenberg we have almost 
                nothing recorded, but we can be grateful 
                for a stunning Pelléas et 
                Mélisande and a few shorter 
                works like the one in this set. Of Bach 
                we have an abundance — two sets of Brandenburgs, 
                two Masses in b, the St. Matthew and 
                St John Passions, three versions of 
                Art of Fugue, and a good selection of 
                cantatas — reflecting his profound admiration 
                and identification. 
              
 
              
The most serious detraction 
                critics laid against Scherchen was use 
                of unconventional tempi, but like many 
                creative people he disliked doing anything 
                exactly the same way twice. Also he 
                was frequently forced to work with undermotivated 
                orchestras, and I can’t think of any 
                better way to wake up a complacent group 
                of musicians than to make them play 
                a piece they know too well at a tempo 
                faster or slower than they’d ever dreamed 
                of before. But many of his innovative 
                tempi which were considered shocking 
                when first heard have since become the 
                canon. 
              
 
              
This selection is a 
                reasonable set of representative Scherchen 
                excellence, but they can’t please everybody. 
                Of his three recordings of the Haydn 
                Military Symphony, I feel this is the 
                least satisfactory, but probably was 
                chosen because it’s the only one in 
                stereo. It amply displays Scherchen 
                in his "surprising tempo" 
                persona; the finale is, by any measure, 
                absurdly fast. The Schoenberg work is 
                completely new to me, and is untypically 
                consonant for this composer, being at 
                times almost pretty; but it demonstrates 
                Scherchen’s missionary desire to promote 
                the composer’s art. The Brahms is a 
                superb performance, rich with detail 
                and drama right up to the end of the 
                third movement; but, disappointingly, 
                sections of the finale are rushed, and 
                at times there the orchestral ensemble 
                is less than perfect. For his English 
                recordings he had a great orchestra 
                to lead and apparently plenty of rehearsal 
                time, and these recordings show that 
                the best that he was capable of is the 
                very best there is. The Beethoven 8th 
                Symphony is one of the very finest performances 
                of this work ever done, as is the "Firebird 
                Suite." Few modern recordings can 
                match the sinister and evil violence 
                of the Kastchei’s Dance sequence. 
              
 
              
These transfers are 
                new. Direct comparison of this Beethoven 
                Symphony with the transfer of the same 
                work on the 1988 MCAD2-9802-B issue 
                shows the new transfer to be more transparent 
                and wider ranged, even on my 3-inch 
                K-L-H computer speaker system. The same 
                comparison with the Stravinsky shows 
                the new transfer to have deeper perspective 
                and greater definition, but the older 
                transfer on a 1999 Japanese Victor pressing 
                MVCW-14033 has been differently equalized, 
                so it has the effect of slightly wider 
                range; one could actually prefer the 
                earlier version if one did not have 
                a super high-definition speaker system. 
              
 
              
If you like what you 
                hear here, you might want to search 
                out Scherchen’s 1953 St. Matthew Passion 
                (monophonic and OP), his Mahler 5th 
                and 7th Symphonies, and the Tahra "Enregistrements 
                Nixa" set (TAH 413/416) of 
                Russian and French orchestral war-horses. 
                There is a wonderful VHS video rehearsal 
                of Bach’s Art of the Fugue on 
                CBC Home Video (VAI 69408 NTSC). The 
                stereo remakes of Handel’s Messiah and 
                Bach’s Mass in b which are currently 
                available on DG are nowhere near so 
                good as the original monophonic versions 
                (both currently OP) which are worth 
                any amount of trouble to find. Never 
                released on CD is the 1953 monophonic 
                English recording of Rossini’s William 
                Tell Overture, a performance which 
                stands out in a heavily crowded field 
                as the finest performance and recording 
                this work has ever received. As any 
                orchestral musician will tell you, to 
                get an orchestra to enjoy playing this 
                despised work and do it this well is 
                the achievement of the millennium. 
              
 
              
Paul Shoemaker