Stokowski and his Symphony Orchestra—to capitalise the ‘h’ risks
turning the Marylebone born conductor into a Divine status which
not even he, one supposes, would have dared countenance—recorded
a lot of lighter fare during 1957 and 1958. But during his vast
and vastly productive life Stokowski, with various orchestras,
was in no way averse to music such as this. He made no fewer
than seven different recordings of the ‘Blue Danube’ and this
was the last, containing all repeats. It’s heard here in what
is probably its first CD incarnation and sounds captivating,
though not wholly Viennese. It was another keyboard playing
conductor, Malcolm Sargent, who made the arrangement of Borodin’s
Nocturne and in a nice touch Guild includes a well-known
photograph of both conductors shaking hands in 1951. The famous
Stokowski string tone was a portable miracle, grafted as if
by a musical Prospero onto every orchestra he visited. This
recording is no different, from the deeply etched organ pedal
basses to the higher strings. The much less often recorded Tcherepnin
arrangement may be more colouristic, but this one is the more
resonant.
It’s as much a question of arranger as work in this disc. Angelo
Lavagnino did the honours for Paganini’s Moto Perpetuo
and it’s appropriately full of verve. Arcady Dubensky, whose
music Stokowski had promoted and recorded back in Philadelphia
days, contributes an arrangement of his own, Rachmaninov’s Vocalise,
which proves to be most attractive, not least for such an eminent
Rachmaninovian as Stokowski. Dubensky allows the music to taper
to a brief solo violin moment at one point—most effective. There’s
a sliver of Handel arranged by William Gillies Whittaker and
the Tamburino from Alcina, courtesy of Julian
Herbage, who was probably best known as a BBC presenter.
Stokowski’s arrangements follow. There are four brief pieces
from Gluck’s operas: Orfeo, Iphigenie and
two from Armide, all deftly turned and played. The
Sicilienne from Armide is especially lovely.
It’s not a suite as such, but four stand-alone concert pieces.
Boccherini’s Minuet was fashionable at the time particularly
because it was used in the film The Ladykillers, which
had been released a couple of years before the recording was
made. Finally there’s a piece in its own right, unmediated by
any arranging hand, Theodor Berger’s zesty, slightly neo-classical
1933 Rondino Giocoso. It had been premiered by Furtwängler
in 1939 and makes for a spirited, slightly anomalous - it has
to be said - final piece.
It’s good to have this lighter fare restored in this way, excellently
restored and brimming with energy.
Jonathan Woolf