The German hits from 
                the 1930s have sadly faded from the 
                scene. In America, aside from "Falling 
                in Love Again" and "Mack the 
                Knife", two songs that now appear 
                to be relegated under "kitsch", 
                little else remains. This is a shame, 
                really, as there are some wonderful 
                tunes out there, by some masters of 
                the genre. Cole Porter, Harold Arlen, 
                and Jerome Kern all deserve their place 
                in the sun, but the likes of Friedrich 
                Hollaender, Mischa Spoliansky, and Werner 
                Richard Heymann have been unduly neglected 
                outside their homeland. 
              
 
              
Of the songwriters 
                represented on this disc, I am most 
                familiar with Heymann, who wrote the 
                music for more than forty films, composing 
                his first song at five years of age. 
                He composed for many types of audience; 
                for the cabaret stage as well as the 
                orchestra hall, dance hall, and silent 
                film theatre. One of his biggest hits 
                is the opening track, originally sung 
                by Lillian Harvey in 1931 for the film 
                Der Kongress Tanzt. I have two 
                performances, both evidently from the 
                film, and Salonorchester Schwanen with 
                Annette Postel singing do much better 
                with their rather sentimental arrangement. 
                Both of the versions for the film (one 
                a reprise) are quirkier (the reprise 
                prominently features xylophone) and 
                Postel soars over Harvey’s rather wobbly 
                soprano. Liebling, mein Herz läßt 
                dich grüßen, sung originally 
                by the legendary Comedian Harmonists 
                in 1930, again for a film, is performed 
                beautifully here by Postel, the whole 
                performance languid and silky. 
              
 
              
But all isn’t quiet 
                background music for elegant couples 
                at intimate tables just off the polished 
                parquet dance-floor. The parquet makes 
                its own demands on occasion, especially 
                with these pieces by Gerhard Winkler, 
                known for snappier dance numbers. Hexentanz 
                as well as the wonderful Rumanisches 
                Zigeunerfest as well as the then-quite-exotic 
                Im Harem sitzen heulend die Eunuchen 
                are perfect introductions to Winkler’s 
                style. The ensemble’s musical saw in 
                Hexentanz is a lovely touch here, 
                and the whimsical playing for all three 
                of these calls to mind the recordings 
                of another wonderful dance orchestra, 
                the New Leviathan Oriental Foxtrot Orchestra, 
                which has somewhat of a cult following 
                in the US. 
              
 
              
As Jonathan Woolf so 
                aptly stated in his review of this disc 
                (link), 
                your enthusiasm for this disc will depend 
                on a liking for a certain amount of 
                recreated kitsch. One thing about the 
                music of this time, though, was its 
                stance toward sentimentality. For the 
                most part, these were decidedly anti-nostalgic 
                tunes, performed by and enjoyed by the 
                good-times young men and women crowding 
                into the bacchanalia of Berlin before 
                things fell to pieces — the Berlin of 
                Isherwood’s youth, and it’s this tone 
                that the Salonorchester Schwanen sometimes 
                misses. Lillian Harvey’s performance 
                of Irgendwo auf der Welt has 
                a definite sense of sadness and longing 
                that adds a depth to the tune, whereas 
                here, with this modern performance, 
                it tends to come across as merely light 
                music; a nostalgic pleasant song. 
              
 
              
The tunes on this disc 
                are memorable and certainly should be 
                played more — Guild and Naxos do a service. 
                For the real deal though, the original 
                recordings of many of these tunes are 
                still available and should certainly 
                also be looked up. 
              
 
                David Blomenberg  
              
see also review 
                by Jonathan Woolf