Monday, Apr. 18, 1960
Classical Records
Over drinks in the Carnegie Hall bar it is still possible to stir a lively argument as to whether Toscanini was really as great as all that. Now a fascinating new record titled Memorial Tribute to Arturo Toscanini proves once again that he was. His critics often maintain that he was off base in the German classical repertory, and that he tried to turn Beethoven into Verdi.
But this record, drawn from rehearsal disks and tapes,*shows that the passion and honesty he brought to all music could lift the players to a remarkable pitch of performance.
Throughout the rehearsal sessions, Toscanini's voice can be heard explaining, correcting, cajoling, scolding. Sometimes, when he attempts to convey his feelings for the music, language fails him. "Mozart," he cries, "must be allegro. It must smile! Allegro not only with the tempo but with this!"--and he resoundingly slaps his face. At times he speaks like a counseling father: "I don't believe that to be a great man one needs to play only Wagner or Beethoven. Play also Traviata as you are best able to play. I like this music as I like Mozart."
But Toscanini's absorption in the music is nowhere better demonstrated than when he raises his cracked old voice in song. During the Traviata rehearsals he is sometimes the ardent young Alfredo, singing the aria De' miei bollenti spiriti, sometimes the gravely dignified Germont, making his moving plea to Violetta--Pura sic-come un angelo. In the most fascinating section of all, the old man launches into Violetta's famed Sempre libera, sounding hoarse, wildly off key, but somehow convincing in the aria's feverish abandon.
Other new records:
Beethoven: Piano Concerto No. 3 (Glenn Gould, pianist; the Columbia Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Leonard Bernstein; Columbia, mono and stereo). Beethoven's symmetrically balanced dialogue between piano and orchestra emerges in a muscular, energetic and relentlessly logical reading. Pianist Gould and Conductor Bernstein work their bril liant moves like a pair of lifelong chess opponents who anticipate each other by the shift of a pawn.
Haydn: Four Divertimenti for Baryton, Viola and Violincello (Salzburger Barytontrio; Archive, mono). These four trios, written by Haydn for his patron,
Prince Esterhazy, feature a viola fitted with both gut strings and resonating wire strings. All told. Haydn wrote 126 little-known trios for the baryton. In this recording, the instrument sounds with a rich, full voice slightly nasalized by those vibrating wires. The musical conversation is by turns grave, sprightly and mocking, and the performance is uniformly elegant.
Bartok: Music for String Instruments, Percussions and Celesta, and Frank Martin: Petite Symphonie Concertante (Albert Fuller, harpsichord; Gloria Agostini. harp; Mitchell Andrews, piano; Leopold Stokowski conducting; Capitol, mono and stereo). Both Composers Bartok and Martin anticipated the dreams of the stereo engineers by calling for strings divided in equal groups on either side of the conductor. The resulting spread of sound is interesting, but less so than Stokowski's fine performance. Even with a pickup orchestra, his Bartok glows with tonal colors as weird and arresting as an electrical storm, and his vigorous reading of Martin has a fine shimmer and glow.
Mahler: Symphony No. 4 (Lisa Delia Casa; the Chicago Symphony, conducted by Fritz Reiner; RCA Victor, mono and stereo). Even in the flood of Mahler-year recordings, Conductor Reiner's brilliant, surgically clean reading of the Fourth is a standout. Under his baton, the massive Mahler sonorities remain remarkably clear and unclotted, and what often smacks of bombast in other performances emerges as music of dignity and grandeur. Soprano Delia Casa sings the folklike melody of the fourth movement with warmth and charm.
Italian Music in the Age of Exploration (The Fleetwood Singers; Lyrichord. stereo). Skillful, spirited performances of madrigals by a dozen all-but-forgotten composers of the 16th century. The names include Luzzasco Luzzaschi, Costanzo Porta and Gioseppe Caimo, and the themes have to do with the hazards of love. The music, performed by seven singers with occasional guitar and harpsichord accompaniment, has wit moments of placid beauty, and a colorfully antique air.
Brendan Behan Sings Irish Folk Songs and Ballads (Spoken Arts). "Sings" is the nonoperative word here; Irish Playwright Behan growls, gurgles and lurches in and out of key like a drunk on a swaying bus ("I usually talk nicer," he concedes, "when I have me teeth"). Nevertheless, he performs with engaging gusto and humor, and with considerably more conviction than most of his folk-styled competition. The numbers include On the 18th Day of November, The Captains and the Kings, I Am a Happy English Lad, rendered in a wildly improbable parody of an Oxford accent. Some of Behan's barroom sweepings are fresh as newsprint:I cried to Mr. Khrushchev, Please grant me this great boon: Don't muck about, don't muck about, Don't muck about with the moon!
*Included are the Overture to Mozart's The Magic Flute (Nov. 5, 1947): the Finale to Beethoven's Ninth Symphony (March 27, 1952); the Brindisi, or drinking song from Act I of Verdi's La Traviata (Nov. 28, 1946); and assorted other excerpts from Acts I and II of Traviata (Nov. 28, Nov. 30, 1946). Released by the conductor's son Walter, the disk is not available in record stores, can be bought only with a contribution (minimum: $25) to the Musicians Foundation, Inc., 131 Riverside Drive, New York City 24--a charitable organization to which Toscanini contributed both time and money.
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