Hamilton Harty conducted two important Schubert recordings at
the end of the 1920s. Schubert was in the air at the time, as
1928 marked the centenary of his death, an event that occasioned
a flurry of recordings. In January of that year, quick off the
mark, Columbia recorded him with his Hallé Orchestra in the
Ninth Symphony in what detective work suggests was Fyvie Hall
in London. Most of the selected takes were the third, though
there are three first takes in the fourteen issued sides; no
second takes at all, which is unusual.
This distinguished, personalised reading is fascinating to hear.
At the time the Hallé was regularly upstaging London orchestras,
even the LSO, and it was during this time that the visits of
the New York Philharmonic-Symphony under Toscanini, Berlin Philharmonic
under Furtwängler and the Hallé itself, spurred the formation
first of the BBC Symphony and then Beecham’s LPO. What one hears
from the Hallé is, first, the very unusual tone and phrasing
of the horn statements, and the wind voice leading. Harty encourages
a rather unblended approach in contradistinction to his contemporary
Beecham whose performances were notable for the metrical freedom
he allowed his wind players but within a precisely calibrated
blend when chording. Harty also offers much more looseness in
this respect and many more portamentos in the string section.
His Schubert is punchy and invigorating, Beecham’s more emollient
and sidling in approach. The music making is forward-moving
and exciting, though I sense at one side join (imperceptible
in this transfer but if you have the 78 you know where it is)
Harty fractionally loses the tempo established toward the end
of the previous side – it’s in the opening movement; see if
you agree.
Listening to this performance is fascinating on a number of
levels, not least the individual timbres of each section. The
winds are pretty much vibrato-free, as they illustrate in a
strong, commanding slow movement, which Harty swings into with
dancing Ländler panache; the cellos too don’t illustrate
much vibrato but do slide voraciously. Harty is quite salty
in the Scherzo, and big-boned and characterful in the finale.
When a transfer is as disappointing as the Hallé’s own label
was in the Cassadó adaptation of the Arpeggione sonata,
one worries that other companies will shy off [Hallé Tradition
CD HLT8003]. The market is not so wide for such material that
it can easily bear competing end-products, and that’s one danger
in botched transfers. Fortunately this company hasn’t been put
off; on the contrary it’s stepped in with its own fine work,
courtesy of Mark Obert-Thorn. The Cassadó arrangement (or if
you prefer orchestral beefing up) of the Arpeggione Sonata
is, if not rare in its original 78 guise, at least relatively
uncommon. It’s an ingenious piece of work and shows the soloist
in a fine light; the cellist’s much later version with the Bamberg
orchestra under Perlea is on a good Cassadó Vox Box.
It’s always good to welcome Harty material. He has cachet among
collectors, so let me ask the question: when are we going to
have a good transfer of his collaboration with Sammons in the
Bruch concerto, and with Catterall in Mozart?
Jonathan Woolf
Gaspar Cassadó (cello) 
