Rehearing a favourite recording after a gap of several years can 
                be a funny thing. Sometimes we marvel afresh at the excellence 
                of the performance or the recorded sound. Sometimes we hear something 
                new, a detail of interpretation that had escaped our notice before 
                and which now contributes in its own way to our satisfaction. 
                Occasionally we revisit a performance of which we had a rather 
                low opinion, only to find, this time round, that it was rather 
                better than we had supposed. And now and again we will listen 
                to a record we thought we knew and loved and find less in it than 
                we had thought; the magic has vanished, the performance remains 
                earthbound.
                
Listening to this 
                  reissue of vintage Vaughan Williams recordings from the EMI 
                  vaults I experienced conflicting reactions; both welcome surprise 
                  and a sense of disappointment. The Sargent items were far better 
                  and more involving than I had remembered them; Barbirolli’s 
                  famous interpretation of the Fifth Symphony now seems rather 
                  less than the sum of its parts.
                
To mark the RVW 
                  centenary EMI have combined the contents of two previous CD 
                  releases of the composer’s music. The Sargent items had their 
                  first CD incarnation in 1990 in the old Studio series, the Barbirolli 
                  VW Fifth appearing on a previous British Composers CD 
                  in 1994, when it was paired with Bax’s Tintagel. EMI 
                  appear to have used the same remasterings as before; this is 
                  not a problem in the Sargent items, where the sound is full 
                  and clear, if with a relatively high level of tape hiss. For 
                  the Barbirolli Fifth, however, the sound is muffled and occluded; 
                  this recording would have benefited from fresh remastering.
                
Sargent’s reputation 
                  is very much in the doldrums at the moment, but in music with 
                  which he had a strong personal affinity he could be as persuasive 
                  as anyone. Here in four RVW works his affection for the music 
                  is never in doubt. The early stereo copes well with the radiance 
                  of the choral setting of Serenade to Music and Toward 
                  the Unknown Region. In the Serenade Sargent’s four 
                  soloists (in place of the original sixteen) are oratorio stalwarts 
                  of the day and fulfil their roles admirably; Elsie Morison is 
                  particularly splendid. In these works Sargent’s handling of 
                  the chorus is everything we would expect from him. He also gives 
                  a rousing performance of The Wasps and delineates well 
                  the delicate tracery of Greensleeves. Listening to this 
                  and the recently released BBC Legends CD of Sargent Prom performances 
                  of the Sibelius and RVW Fourth Symphonies suggests that there 
                  was rather more to ‘Flash Harry’ than he is sometimes given 
                  credit for.
                
Barbirolli’s 1962 
                  recording of the Fifth - his second of the work, and 
                  the first in stereo – is given a warm Kingsway Hall ambience. 
                  This makes for a rather recessed sound picture and, in this 
                  remastering at least, a recording quality characterised by atmosphere 
                  and weight of tone rather than incisiveness. Thus the climaxes 
                  of the first and third movements come across powerfully, even 
                  if we might wish for the rushing, Sibelian string passages of 
                  the first movement or the hobgoblin-like woodwind of the second 
                  to cut across the texture more than they do. There is also a 
                  persistent, low level background rumble that becomes more obvious 
                  in quieter passages but which is rarely distracting.
                
The composer himself 
                  in his recently released 1952 Proms traversal (Somm) leads a 
                  performance of tremendous dedication and energy, with the work’s 
                  restless and reflective aspects held in perfect equilibrium. 
                  Boult in his mono Decca account stresses the work’s symphonic 
                  cohesiveness with an urgency and focus that perhaps eluded his 
                  EMI stereo remake. Barbirolli’s recording would frequently have 
                  benefited from a greater sense of forward momentum, particularly 
                  in the Romanza. His treatment of this movement seems 
                  rather episodic, although there is no doubting his involvement 
                  - his characteristic vocal contributions can be heard at several 
                  points! Despite excellent orchestral playing I found this movement 
                  disappointingly earthbound; only in the hushed closing pages 
                  is a note of rapture really attained.
                
In the Finale the 
                  Philharmonia cellos begin the Passacaglia theme rather vaguely 
                  - compare this with Boult’s far more purposeful LPO - although 
                  the movement soon picks up momentum and the return of the work’s 
                  opening horn call is powerful enough. The closing pages, with 
                  their polyphonic web of strings, are glorious.
                
To sum up, then; 
                  I was rather less taken with Barbirolli’s performance than before. 
                  Although conducted with all the passion we would expect, the 
                  work does not seem to cohere structurally. There are individual 
                  passages of great beauty but the overall trajectory of the work 
                  is not so clearly delineated. The relatively cloudy sound quality 
                  is also rather puzzling. I wonder if there had been a deterioration 
                  of the master tape, as I don’t recall my LPs sounding like this. 
                  Sargent’s recordings of the four shorter works are splendidly 
                  done and have perfectly acceptable sound despite their fifty-year 
                  vintage.
                
Ewan McCormick 
                   
                  
                  And a further view from Rob Barnett: 
                
Sargent has had 
                  a poor press. Self-preening was not exactly unheard of amongst 
                  conductors. Heaven knows what would have happened to him if 
                  he had been lauded as much as Karajan. His arrogant attitude 
                  to orchestral players as disposable drones cannot have helped 
                  his reputation as it trails into a more egalitarian age. What 
                  about his music-making? You do not have to be a nice human being 
                  to be a great or even fine conductor. The recent BBC Legends 
                  disc of Proms performances of the fourth symphonies by Vaughan 
                  Williams and Sibelius suggests we should not rush to condemn. 
                  His UK premiere of Martinů's Epic of Gilgamesh impresses 
                  for its humanity and visionary nature. There is also a real 
                  internal light in his broadcast of Alwyn's Lyra Angelica 
                  with Sidonie Goossens as the harp soloist. The four Vaughan 
                  Williams works here are familiar from the 87p Classics for Pleasure 
                  LP and then the Music for Pleasure special which seemed to be 
                  everywhere in the 1970s. He delivers a dapper and slightly stiff-necked 
                  Wasps Overture but his Serenade to Music is much 
                  more pliant even if this is the version for four soloists and 
                  chorus rather than for sixteen soloists. Lyndon Jenkins tells 
                  us that this was in fact the composer's preferred option. In 
                  Sargent's hands it is a poetic salley so if you came to know 
                  the work through this disc you would do no disservice to the 
                  piece. Much the same can be said of the poetic and romantic-plush 
                  Greensleeves Fantasia which proceeds at a honey-oozing 
                  pulse. Some may find it overly romanticised. Toward the Unknown Region 
                  has a lot going for it and as far as I can recall has never 
                  sounded as good before. It was recorded a couple of years before 
                  his powerful Martinů Gilgamesh broadcast and shows 
                  the same visionary qualities around the Whitman text. Its real 
                  strength is the choir who have been drilled to burnished perfection. 
                  Their diction is admirable - in fact this is the best recorded 
                  version.
                
We then leave Sargent 
                  and move to the classic and much reissued Fifth Symphony conducted 
                  by Barbirolli. It is his second recording of the work. He had 
                  gone into the studio with the Hallé in 1942 only seven months 
                  after the composer's premiere. This is one of the finest interpretations 
                  in the catalogue, brisk yet deeply spiritual. The sessions also 
                  marked Barbiroolli's return to EMI after seven years with Pye. 
                  He wrote to the composer in 1954 after conducting the Fifth 
                  at Salisbury Cathedral: "What a heavenly work it is ... 
                  sometimes I think the loveliest of them all".
                
The words to the 
                  Serenade and Toward the Unknown Region are printed 
                  in the booklet.
                
These recordings 
                  are between 50 and 45 years old and their analogue origins are 
                  evident from the low and even hiss.
                
              
Sargent's intriguing 
                Vaughan Williams aired at last with Barbirolli for company.
                
                Rob Barnett