Mercury are justly 
                proud of the recordings they made in 
                the early stereo epoch and are now 
                enabling us to hear them as never before. 
                Though I have heard this only in its 
                CD form, this recording has range, depth 
                and definition that are truly amazing, 
                with every detail of Dvořák’s orchestral 
                score (and what a lot of detail it has!) 
                heard as, quite frankly, never 
                before, yet all sounding quite naturally 
                balanced with the solo cello. If it 
                had been sent to me as a recording made 
                in the last year or so, I don’t think 
                I would ever have suspected otherwise. 
                Compared with other early stereo accounts, 
                for example the Rostropovich/Boult/EMI 
                (the cello sounds fine but the orchestra 
                is congested) or the Hoelscher/Keilberth/Telefunken 
                (a beautiful performance ruined by the 
                backward placing of the orchestra though, 
                again, the cello sounds well), this 
                is in another league. 
              
 
              
This is all to the 
                good, of course, but since recordings 
                made during the last year or so also 
                sound like recordings made in the last 
                year or so, and sometimes contain excellent 
                performances, the question of the actual 
                interpretation still matters. 
              
 
              
Dorati begins rather 
                slowly and ominously, and I kept expecting 
                him to whip things up, but no, he concentrates 
                on a broad, majestic interpretation, 
                with much expressive leeway at the famous 
                horn theme, too much to sound really 
                natural. It is due to his keen ear, 
                of course, as well as to the recording, 
                if many details are uncovered which 
                are often passed over, but the lack 
                of real momentum is a considerable price 
                to pay. He also tends to emphasize the 
                obvious, and both after the opening 
                ritornello and the orchestral passage 
                which ushers in the development, his 
                preparation for the soloist sounds pedantic 
                ("listen", you almost hear 
                him saying, "the soloist is going 
                to enter soon") and robs the music 
                of its adorable spontaneity. 
              
 
              
And what happens when 
                the soloist does enter? Well, as we 
                know, Starker is a fine cellist and 
                musician, and of course everything is 
                finely played, but there is not a great 
                variety of tone and he too has quite 
                a lot of points to make. There is plenty 
                of very romantic-sounding rubato, 
                but in the last resort I didn’t really 
                warm to it, finding it more an intellectual 
                analysis of romanticism than the real 
                thing. Starker and Dorati between them 
                seem to want to present a darker, more 
                sombre Dvořák than usual and, while 
                it is always interesting to hear 
                a great work in another light, to hear 
                this composer rigorously shorn of all 
                that makes him lovable is a little depressing. 
                At the start of the finale Dorati seems 
                to want to suggest that this music might 
                have influenced the opening of Mahler’s 
                6th symphony – the homely 
                world of Bohemian dance is left far 
                behind. 
              
 
              
I have always remained 
                loyal in this work to Rostropovich with 
                Boult; though Rostropovich is very free 
                in his expression, Boult somehow manages 
                to keep the overall structure in view, 
                as was not the case with the great cellist’s 
                more indulgent later partners, from 
                Karajan onwards. 
              
 
              
The Bruch leaves me 
                in a similar quandary. It sounds 
                like a performance with all the 
                right romantic gestures, but music is 
                not just about sound, and a performance 
                can sound right while feeling wrong, 
                which is what this one does to me. The 
                Tchaikovsky is very neatly played, but 
                perhaps Starker’s rather intellectual 
                approach is best suited to earlier and 
                later music. 
              
 
              
Christopher Howell