Alto continues to range freely among the labels selecting, mixing 
                and making new matches. It’s a recipe that works pretty well for 
                consumers and for them.
                
              
In 
                this case they look to the ASV catalogue 
                which if not deleted seems to be drowsy 
                at present. This collection is drawn 
                from four full-price Khachaturian CDs 
                issued by ASV during the first half 
                of the 1990s. They are ASV CD DCA 859: 
                (Battle of Stalingrad, 
                originally with Second Symphony); 773 
                (Masquerade); 884 (Valencian 
                Widow originally with Gayaneh 
                Suite 2; Danses 
                fantastiques) and 964 (Dance 
                Suite – in that case complete with 
                all five movements, originally 
                with Piano Concerto, Five Pieces). 
              
The music from the 
                  Soviet era of a son of the then Armenian SSR is vivid to put 
                  it mildly. While Khachaturian wrote no operas he was active 
                  in every other musical sphere: two grand ballets, three symphonies, 
                  three concertos and three concerto-rhapsodies, overtures, marches, 
                  hortatory odes, songs with orchestra, incidental music for stage 
                  (20 plays) and screen (30 films), chamber music and piano solos. 
                  His Violin Concerto won the Stalin Prize in 1941 and swept across 
                  the world – a feted ambassador for the Soviet Union in the heart 
                  of capitalism. The ballet Spartacus secured the Lenin 
                  Prize in 1959. The great names among soloists flocked to play 
                  his works. While the apex of his international success seems 
                  to have been the 1940s his music has held its place in catalogue 
                  and concert hall. Soviet recordings were plentiful but it was 
                  only with ASV’s Khachaturian project in collaboration with Brian 
                  Culverhouse and Loris Tjeknavorian that the less prominent works 
                  made an appearance on record. There have been other discs of 
                  rarer items from Naxos, Citadel and Delos but often these have 
                  been isolated discs; nothing to compare with ASV’s sustained 
                  effort.
                
              
The 
                wartime Masquerade suite is the 
                most famous of the pieces here. Lermontov 
                wrote the play to which these pieces 
                are extracts from the incidental music. It’s 
                burly and garish music with an irresistible 
                Soviet glare to the orchestration which 
                sounds a little like Capriccio Italien 
                on steroids. Two dignified movements 
                are placed among the super extrovert 
                standards. The central Mazurka mixes 
                Armenian exotic with what sounds like 
                the twirling parasols of a Savannah 
                Hollywood ball but transplanted to Yerevan. 
                The finale sounds a little like Vaudeville 
                meets the Folies Bergères – not so much 
                oompah as whoompah! The latest piece 
                in this collection is the six movement 
                selection from a 1957 production of 
                The Valencian Widow. There’s 
                poetry aplenty here as well as a lovely 
                boozy swerve to the clarinet line in 
                the second movement. Vaudeville and 
                Dick Van Dyke meet in the booted OTT 
                Comic Dance. The sturm und 
                drang of the Intermezzo acts 
                as a down-beat angst-ridden palate cleanser. 
                The very early Caucasian and Uzbek dances 
                already carry the composer’s hallmarks 
                including a fragile and trembling nostalgia 
                in the latter although surprisingly 
                there is also a touch of dissonance 
                – the merest dusting. The score to the 
                film of The Battle of Stalingrad 
                is typically heroic-tragic with 
                overtones of Tchaikovsky’s Manfred 
                but hyper. Invasion references 
                Germanic military band clichés. You 
                can hear a much more extended selection 
                from the film on a Marco Polo disc. 
                Throughout you hear an orchestra that 
                has not shaken free from the brazen, 
                brassy roar of a soviet orchestra at 
                full pelt. Glorious.
                
                Rob Barnett