Toscanini's Eroica
Matthew Silverstein
has released everybody prefers. I haven't yet heard the 1953 version, and I
can't decide which of the other two I like more.
Any thoughts?
Gerrit Stolte
>Any thoughts?
The 1939 performance. Probably because it's the least toscanini-esque
of them all, with a fair amount of rubato and flexibility. 1953 is the
worst of them.
Gerrit
--------------------
"There are so-called Bruckner conductors who've never
played a Bruckner symphony! These camel drivers haven't
understood a thing about Bruckner."
Sergiu Celibidache
John Wilson
<mattysil...@ibm.net> wrote:
>I was wondering which of the three 'official' Toscanini Eroica's that RCA
>has released everybody prefers. I haven't yet heard the 1953 version, and I
>can't decide which of the other two I like more.
>
>Any thoughts?
>
For many years the 1953 was my favorite AT Eroica. However, with the
release of the CD Toscanini Collection the 1949 studio recording
became my preferred version. It was mainly due to the fact that on
CDs I could hear very interesting and subtle nuances, especially in
the inner voices, that AT did not achieve in the 53 live recording or
the engineers did not catch. BTW, I understand that the 1953 version
will be the one released in RCA/BMG's new Toscanini/Beethoven series.
I will be interested to hear this one again in the new remastering.
John
Toscanini Web Page: http://home.earthlink.net/~jw3/index.html
Owen Hartnett
<mattysil...@ibm.net> wrote:
>I was wondering which of the three 'official' Toscanini Eroica's that RCA
>has released everybody prefers. I haven't yet heard the 1953 version, and I
>can't decide which of the other two I like more.
>
>Any thoughts?
I really prefer the 1953 to all other Eroicas. To me it embodies the
spirit of the Eroica; it captures Beethoven's spirit of "going down a new
road." The playing is white-hot, rhythmically precise, yet, extremely
expressive. (It's remarkable what Toscanini can do with strict tempi.)
There's no "give" to it, it keeps coming right at you, like a
steamroller. This is a no-negotiation, take no prisoners recording. Even
if you don't like, you'll at least want to hear it for the exceptional
approach.
-Owen
Matthew B. Tepper
pondered what I'm pondering as follows:
>
>I was wondering which of the three 'official' Toscanini Eroica's that
>RCA has released everybody prefers. I haven't yet heard the 1953
>version, and I can't decide which of the other two I like more.
>
>Any thoughts?
Count me as another vote for the 1953 (although I am also very fond of
the live 193*8*, to my mind more flexible than the 1939 or 1949).
In fact, when my friend Steven Brust was writing his novel _The Sun,
the Moon and the Stars_, he called me one day to ask me to recommend a
specific historical classical music performance that one of his
characters would find particularly remarkable. I immediately told him
that my pick would be the 1953 Eroica, and he used it. (It's also my
birthyear, and Steve's too, I think.)
--
Matthew B. Tepper: WWW, science fiction, classical music, ducks!
My personal home page -- http://www.deltanet.com/~ducky/index.htm
My main music page --- http://www.deltanet.com/~ducky/berlioz.htm
And my science fiction club's home page --- http://www.lasfs.org/
To write to me, do for my address what Androcles did for the lion
A Fanatical Toscaniniphile
<mattysil...@ibm.net> wrote:
>I was wondering which of the three 'official' Toscanini Eroica's that RCA
>has released everybody prefers.
Fascinating, said Mr. Spock. In the first 3 replies, each of the
most famous recordings is advocated by diverse fans.
I would say that my least favorite one is the Sept. 1,1945 edition
that is on Music&Arts: I heard it years ago on a collectors' tape that
a friend played, and the performance was just about the least feeling
and communicative interpretation of the Eroica that I have ever
experienced. Odd. Maybe Toscanini was just overwhelmed by the Allied
victory that the performance celebrated.
Rather than suggest the "best" one, let me compare the three authentic
RCA recordings.
1. October 28, 1939: RCA 60269-2-RG
The '39, in the transfer from the authentic RCA archival lacquer
transcription disks -- NOT the 78 edition that was commercially issued
-- done from the Rodgers & Hammerstein Museum disk set by the
redoubtable Ward Marston, one hears Toscanini conduct in his earlier,
more expansive style, closer than in later readings to the influences
of Nikisch and especially Steinbach, the central European conductors
from early in the century that the Maestro admired. There is 'tempo
rubato' in each movement: based around a chosen tempo for each
movement (not precisely the problematical metronome markings though
not too much slower), the pace flows in what has been described as a
very "plastic" manner, with expansion for lyrical parts, and
acceleration for some of the louder and more dramatic sections. One
notes that this is evident in some of the La Scala acousticals of
1920-1, and in the live Philharmonic-Symphony concerts: just yesterday
I listened for the first time in fifteen years to the April, 1933
Beethoven Fifth in the new Naxos transfer, and was struck by the
freedom of the conducting style, though it is always held in the
framework of Toscanini's strict classicism.
The opening chords of the '39 Eroica are broad and not done in tempo;
Maestro soon gave up this expressive touch and played them strictly in
time with the exposition tempo in later broadcasts and recordings
(somebody in the audience coughs after the very first chord: it was
very annoying and loud on the 78, but is a bit less objectionable on
the CD.) The opening chords are at a slow, Germanic tempo of quarter
note=78; almost immediately the speed accelerates to something in the
mid-nineties in beats per minute: I simply could not sync my
metronome, because the beat is so plastic and varying, phrase by
phrase: to get the 2-year-old NBC ensemble to follow that baton nuance
for nuance shows Toscanini's true mastery as a leader of musicians!
There is no first movement exposition repeat, as usual for
performances of the time.
The Studio 8H sound is infinitely better on the RCA/BMG CD (Vol. 23 in
the Toscanini collection) in Ward's transfer than in the cramped,
wiry, and wooden 78s. Old collectors like me will recall that there
was a horrible technical defect in this set: one of the horn section
solos in the scherzo was recorded on the spiral LEAD-IN GROOVE of a
side; record changers would not play it! Of course, the 33.3 rpm
lacquer transcription disks do not have this defect. Earlier
transfers, such as the Clyde Key/Olympic ATS LP set, had a bad join at
this point (as did my own taped copy of my set of the shellacs; it was
just unavoidable but of course t is seamless in the RCA CD.)
Whereas the 78s sounded as if they were recorded in a closet, the RCA
compact disk sound has the actual realistic resonance of the hall
which, after all, could hold 1,500 listeners and was the largest radio
studio at NBC in Rockefeller Center. Toscanini actually liked it;
after years of hearing near-authentic original monaural recordings and
broadcasts from 8H, I have adjusted and find that the sound is
perfectly fine: one hears every note from each section of the
orchestra in perfect clarity. Students who want to study the Eroica
with a score will marvel at this: as Toscanini desired, one can almost
"see" the printed notes in one's mind. Now, to me this is GREAT
sound!
No computerized filtering has robbed us of the overtones, which extend
up to about 7.5 or 8 kHz or just slightly more; the 78s seemed cut off
around 4.5! I suspect that Ward has de-clicked the transfer using
software but has not filtered it: I have played some original lacquers
in the sixties of mid-forties musical and dramatic broadcasts that
sounded very much like what we hear on this CD.
Despite the freedom of the conducting style, there is no conscious
striving for monumentality a la Furtwaengler; nor is there that
slightly grand self-effacement of the two EMI (mono and stereo)
Eroicas by Klemperer. The Marcia funebre tempo tends to remain
centered in the mid-sixties of quarter-note beats per minute; the
duration is 16:21, longer in totality than many modern conductors play
the movement. I find the great climaxes to be just about right for my
taste: they are integrated into the balanced concept of the Marcia as
a whole, and do not stand out like the massive eruptions in the '44
Furtwaengler/VPO reading (I have found that even a strict Toscaninian
will appreciate the Furtwaengler if it is listened to all the way
through; dipping into it for comparisons will reveal the distentions
which seem artificial if one's emotional mood has not been prepared
for them by the entirety of the performance. With Toscanini, one can
skip from section to section, following the score or remembering
perfectly memorized music, and find that everything is strict,
self-effacing, and unrhetorical.)
The Scherzo from '39 is an absolutely amazing tour-de-force: at first,
due to the utterly perfect unanimity of the ensemble and the
effortless playing by the crack musicians, the tempo seems quite
moderate until one compares other conductors' versions: then, by
contrast, the Toscanini reading seems even more brilliant and
exciting. The Trio is just magnificent: never in concert have I heard
any live orchestral horn section play so flawlessly. The fidelity of
the pickup is so "present" and realistic that the real timbre of
massed horns is accurate, and reminds me of an experience I had once
sitting in the very first row of a concert by the San Jose Symphony
during a performance of the Janacek Glagolitic Mass while we were
making an authorized recording: the live sound of the horn just cannot
be reproduced on records with the sheer physical impact and burnished
tone that I heard in the concert hall. Well, here on this 1939
broadcast, it ALMOST sounds as real!
At 10:57, the finale is a horserace (Norrington, adjusting to the
metronome markings, takes a mere 10:02; Erich Kleiber in 1950 plays it
in 11:12; Klemperer -- mono -- takes 12:24, but in stereo slows to
13:14. Walter's CSO stereo is a fairly speedy 12:20, while
Furtwaengler's '44 live concert in Vienna is 12:41 to the die-out tail
of hall reverb, though his commercial session of '52 is 12:12.)
The thing that should be noted about the '39 Toscanini in this
movement is the sense of gravity and culmination in the last
variations and the coda: inspired by the live studio and radio
audience, the conductor and musicians provide an intensity of playing
that conveys a deeply expressive but nonverbal musical emotion; in
some other Eroicas, by certain conductors who are more influenced by
philosophy and literature than Toscanini, there may be a tangible
sense that there is a kind of humanistic expression in such
transcendent passages (Furtwaengler, '44); but to Toscanini, it is
"not Napoleon, Not Hitler, but Allegro..." I leave it up to the
individual music lover to determine one's interpretative preference:
for my part, I would like to hear BOTH approaches, and any others that
are musically honest and valid, as the Eroica cannot be pigeonholed
into one human brain's conception, no matter how brilliant it may be
at the moment of its execution.
Like my reaction to sampling the Furtwaengler, if one dips into the
finale of the '39 Toscanini from point to point, it may seem to
possess some of the breathlessness of the caricatured Toscanini
rapidity; yet heard all the way through, one adjusts to the celerity
and is swept along and convinced. Ward has left a nice touch of
audience applause, which gently fades; the 78s clipped it off crudely.
In short, a triumph of the famous '39 cycle. While I would ALWAYS
want to first purchase the authorized commercial RCA source to give
the copyright owners their due, I can admit to a great curiosity about
the Naxos edition, which I have not obtained: it will be processed
differently, but it CANNOT possibly sound better! The Gramofono
transfer is to be shunned: it is done by incompetents. All other
bootlegs are either copies of the horrible 78 set, or -- if new enough
-- butchery and rip-offs of the Marston RCA CD version.
2. Nov. 28/Dec. 5, 1949: RCA 60252-2-RG
This composite recording session from Carnegie Hall was done on RCA's
custom-made so-called "Tinkertoy" magnetic recorders, at 30 ips, in
segments done to fit 45 rpm disk side playing times. The original RCA
Victor Red Seal issue (the "1950 Tour Commemorative Issue" with a dark
red cover) had unbelievably dull and wooden sound; the later
multi-disk Red Seal set of all the symphonies had a better but
somewhat falsified transfer that had some wooliness in the bass end (a
friend of mine who was a very prominent audio engineer used this disk
to test and develop his prototype noise reduction system.) The
sixties Victrola set was, I seem to recall, a bit thin but much more
transparent. But the newest RCA / BMG edition of 1991 (Vol. 1 in the
Toscanini Collection) sounds just like I assume the master tapes did.
According to Jack Pfeiffer's interview, available on the web at
<http://www.classicrecs.com/jack.htm>, it, like most of the rest of
the official Toscanini CD series, was probably made from 15 ips copies
provided to Walter Toscanini during the Maestro's own lifetime, for
archival and approval purposes, since apparently the Tinkertoy tapes
for many of the sessions are missing at this late date. No matter:
the sound is excellent for 1949 early tape: a bit lacking in the
palpable "direct to disk" realism of the '39 broadcast, and with some
noticeable peak compression by a limiter, but perfectly professional
and smooth, with no offensive distortion or excessive hiss. The
mike(s) are placed further from the ensemble; the Carnegie Hall
reverberation is present but not particularly deep or over-resonant; I
think the uncanny acoustical balance of the 1936 Beethoven Seventh has
not be achieved here, despite the advances of the equipment.
The opening chords are played at about q=76 or 77 beats per minute;
there is no slight rhetorical pause after them as in '39, and we get
into the exposition at exactly the same meter. Yet the '39 reading is
faster overall at 13:46 for this movement, to 14:06 ten years later in
Carnegie Hall. There is more dashing brio in some sections, with
brilliant trumpets overlaying the ensemble (at about 01:36) in a more
pointed manner than the earlier broadcast. I think that the
conscientious Toscanini was aware that this might be his "Eroica for
the ages" and played it VERY straight, with steady tempo and extremely
thoroughly worked out dynamics and dramatic shaping. I reallly miss
the exposition repeat in a fast reading like this, though in -- say --
the Ormandy performance, it totally bogs down the movement which thus
NEVER seems to end!
If I had to describe a pictorial illusion, this is an Eroica of
Michelangelo, compared to Furtwaengler's Edvard Muench.
In '39, Toscanini commences the slow movement at a grave dead march of
about 63 quarter-note beats per minute; in '49 it is a more rapid pace
of about 71 (the timing in '39: 15:19; in '49: 15:34.) So the
plasticity and variance of tempo in the earlier performance is quite
pronounced, with some parts much slower and some considerably faster
than the norm, compared to the steadier and "streamlined" '49. I find
this later traversal just a bit impersonal.
The '49 Scherzo commences in a very quiet, mysterious way compared to
the more "on mike" 39 broadcast; yet by 0:43 seconds elapsed time, we
are into the "dynamic maximum" of the amplitude of the recording
system, since a very aggressive fast-release peak limiter was used to
in the audio chain that mastered the tape. You hear the musicians
increase their intensity of playing and their volume, but not very
large audio amplitude rise is noted: yet the falsification caused by
the limiter's alteration of the ratios of peak-to-average levels
imposes a "strain" that is totally missing from certain other later
Toscanini commercial sessions made with less limiting, or in the
accurate transfer of the comparable section of the '39 scherzo. This
extra "strain" is VERY obvious to me, as I used to own an RCA BA-6
peak limiter, made about 1950, and experimented with it for many
thousands of hours of testing audio reproduction. The attack time is
almost instantaneous; it compresses a 20-dB rise into about a 2-dB
bump, and it releases back to normal gain in around 150 milliseconds!
Thus, a musical peak is just SWALLOWED UP and makes no real impact on
the recording level: but there is an artificial stressed sound
introduced into the audio, plus some vague intermodulation distortion.
That is what I hear in the loud parts of this '49 edition, and it
bothers me (but I am a recording and broadcast engineer with 25+ years
experience; 'civilians' may notice something but not care about it or
perceive it the same way I do. I wish that Richard Mohr had allowed
the session engineer to use less of the limiting, but they were aiming
at good playback on the RCA 45 rpm player, which I think probably had
a 2-watt 35C5 single-ended pentode output stage!)
The finale of '49 does not have, for me, that emotionally wrenching
yet classical sense of towering power and culmination, though it is
judiciously energetic, highly detailed, and scrupulous. The playing
time of 11:12 is virtually identical to the '39 finale, but there the
Maestro's plasticity of phrasing is more apparent. I do not believe,
for example, that the conductor presses forward such skittering
sections in the variations as the flute-laden passages starting at
03:43 with quite the abandon of the live performances.
Penguin's reviewers think a bit more highly of this performance than
I do. Describing this disk that couples the commercial versions of
the First and Third, their reviewer opines "these are performances
which convey breathtaking power notably the magnificent account of the
Eroica, never comfortable but far from rigid or unloving." For
myself, the power observed here in this '49 recording is derived from
sober and conscientious planning and stressful audio limiting, not
inherently in the live inspiration of the moment as in '53 and '39.
But the scales will tip in favor of the '51 commercial version of the
First symphony, with a wider dynamic range, more body, greater
realism, and more natural hall perspective.
3. Dec. 6, 1953: RCA 60271-2-RG
I have lived continuously with this performance since first acquiring
the Victor Red Seal in about 1961; as a kid, I recall the broadcast
heard over, I think, either WMAQ or WHO (I have two great radio
recollections from that year, the Toscanini program, which seemed to
impress so much me for some reason that despite my youth I never
forgot hearing the music, the ovation, and Ben Grauer's portentous
announcements; and Ed Murrow's grave, stentorian, and measured
utterance "Stalin...Is....Dead!") I also heard a copy of a 15 ips
open reel tape made by an amateur in the NY area off WNBC-FM,
including the Coriolan Overture, before it was issued by Music&Arts.
Despite some slight ignition noise, it had more extended highs than
either the Victor LP or the CD.
It is interesting to note that the audience applause in the earlier 8H
and Carnegie concerts and broadcasts is more tepid, even sometimes
just starting to trickle after the end of a performance; but in the
final two seasons of NBC broadcasts, everybody knew that the Maestro
was nearing the end, and each event at Carnegie was an historic one:
then, one hears standing ovations, and bravos, and roars of applause
that wave on and on all through the end of Grauer's program close and
credits. Though the outburst at the end of the '53 Eroica cannot
match the ecstacy at the end of the '52 Ninth (for obvious reasons) it
was still a powerful one. RCA has sanitized their transfer on all
issues, supplying a TOTALLY DIFFERENT final note and empty-hall reverb
tail: I would guess that this was from a dress rehearsal tape. Thus,
something precious about the live event is denied us. I do wish they
had used the original linecheck tape instead of the processed and
edited LP source copy for the compact disk reissue, and had thus given
us the sense of public participation that we hear in the close of the
'39 Eroica...but in general, the CD edition on BMG is pretty much a
faithful replication of what one has come to expect from prior Red
Seal LP versions.
Again, as in '49, Maestro has a more straightforward and less
rhetorical or nuanced opening to the first movement, maintaining the
tempo of the exposition during the first chords, sans the microsecond
"pause for effect" of the first Victor broadcast recording. The sound
here is much more cohesive and transparent than in '49: I think, based
on a very careful comparison I made in the early eighties with the
offair tape, the exact same minimalist mike placement of the NBC
network radio feed it used, rather than the typical Richard Mohr
artificial balances from separate mikes (which I generally do not
like: the Mohr-produced Missa Solemnis seems strangely condensed with
layers of overlapping sound from separate instrumental sections,
chorus, and soloists, while the George Mathis (?) engineering for the
live broadcast was a point-source pickup with natural monophonic
integrity.)
Thus, for sheer sound quality, this CD transfer is the finest audio
recreation available of Maestro's conception of the piece. I would
say that the treble response is extended up to about 12 kHz, but with
a very slightly "cupped" upper midrange resonance that seemed missing
on the messier-sounding and noisier aircheck tape. But there is
stunning depth to the back of the orchestra, with forceful dynamic
outbursts from timpani and basses: those who attended Maestro's
concerts find this replication to be more than accurate in reproducing
the limned clarity of his instrumental balances.
So much more emphasis and animalistic vigor is present at key points
(for example, 06:26) that one marvels at the concentration and energy
of a man in his eighties! In fact, I have heard another Eroica that
rises to the same pitch of intensity: the memorial concert for
Toscanini, from 1957, featuring the former NBC musicians reorganized
as the "Symphony of the Air", under Bruno Walter. There is the same
passion, in the framework of Walter's more rhetorical and mannered
style.
The last chords of the first movement are distended with the VERY
slightest stretching for effect that could be humanly achieved without
being undetectable, compared to the somewhat more inflected passage in
'49, or the stricter (but not metronomic) '39 reading: you can see in
this tiny detail that Toscanini was still continuing to refine and
rethink his approach to this universal and superhuman score.
The Marcia funebre is marginally fastest of all three performances, at
15:19 compared to 16:21 ('39) and 15:34 ('49). I find it remarkably
well sustained in direct contrast to '49: though it is not obviously
segmented, one suspects that stopping for the seven-minute Tinkertoy
tape sections robbed it of continuity (Maestro, like Furtwaengler, was
a conductor who was best left to play on in long takes, rather than
being forced to conform their imagination to the demands of short
record sides.)
Audience noise rather intrudes on the opening of the Scherzo, which
does not have the mysteriousness of the '49. It seems almost
pedestrian at first, without much inflection or nuance, as if the
concentration of the conductor had flagged a bit. Yet even on the
unedited aircheck tape there were no accidents like the mistakes in
the '54 Pathetique and Wagner programs, so Maestro still retained
(most) of his commanding powers. The first violins do not, however,
have the hairtrigger responsiveness of the unforgettable '39
rendition; and the horns remain bound to the flat monaural proscenium
of the ensemble, rather than rising up in distinction as they did in
Studio 8H.
After a very gutsy opening, the finale unfolds in a manner not
inconsistent with the promise of the opening movement: very strong
conducting gestures sweep the string sections in compelling hairpin
dynamics, and the rich, full body of the ensemble (02:06 to 02:31) is
superbly registered. Yet in '39 there is more characterization of
individual variations, enhanced by the tempo rubato that has been
replaced by the inexorable steady pacing of '53.
However, by the coda (with its forceful interjections by the
passionate timpanist Karl Glassman, whose outbursts of Italianate fury
must have delighted Toscanini) we have been on the ride of a lifetime:
the Maestro's touchstone, his last Eroica after over fifty times'
public traversal of the score.
The companion recording, the commercial 1950 Mozart G-Minor, is a
distinguished item in the Maestro's discography, though personally I
prefer a broadcast of 1946 that is quite unavailable and rare, from a
Verdi-Mozart program in Studio 8H.
Conclusion.
Comparisons may be odious, but they can be instructive. I can say
that for my own enjoyment, I could not be without the '39 and '53
editions, with the '49 as an occasional alternative. I have gone to
some length here, as I may save this for what a friend of mine and I
have long threatened to accomplish, time permitting: an overview of
the performances that takes off where Marsh ended, with what we hope
could be a deeper and more valid technical analysis of recording
quality than he or Haggin were equipped to do.
A.F.T.
A Fanatical Toscaniniphile
Karl Glassman of TYPISTS...along with my usual digital peculiarities,
I erred in providing the timing of the 1939 'Marcia funebre': I SHOULD
have written:
"the timing in '39: 16:21; in '49: 15:34" (I was looking at the wrong
booklet; they seem almost identical in the BMG set, as you will all
know.) Thus the slow movement of '39 is very much more expansive,
though it seems just a few tens of seconds when considering the mere
numbers.
AFT
A Fanatical Toscaniniphile
wrote:
>Count me as another vote for the 1953 (although I am also very fond of
>the live 193*8*, to my mind more flexible than the 1939 or 1949).
Bravo, Ducky! The '38, which I used to own on the Key/ATS LP, like
the '38 Ninth, is a more massive reading than either of the ones done
in the following season's Beethoven 'festival' broadcasts. I no
longer have access to the disk, which I donated with all 13,000 of my
other LPs, but I recall that it was longer: is it just possible that
'38 had the exposition repeat of the opening movement?
AFT
Simon Roberts
: On 10 Oct 1998 09:52:28 PDT, ducky兀deltanet.com (Matthew B. Tepper)
: wrote:
: >Count me as another vote for the 1953 (although I am also very fond of
: >the live 193*8*, to my mind more flexible than the 1939 or 1949).
: Bravo, Ducky! The '38, which I used to own on the Key/ATS LP, like
: the '38 Ninth, is a more massive reading than either of the ones done
: in the following season's Beethoven 'festival' broadcasts. I no
: longer have access to the disk, which I donated with all 13,000 of my
: other LPs, but I recall that it was longer: is it just possible that
: '38 had the exposition repeat of the opening movement?
Assuming this is the same performance (December 3, 1938) issued by Music
and Arts in 1987, and assuming they didn't remove it, there's no repeat in
that performance.
Simon
Owen Hartnett
[An exceptional and thoroughly involving analysis, which included the
following about the 1953 version:]
>After a very gutsy opening, the finale unfolds in a manner not
>inconsistent with the promise of the opening movement: very strong
>conducting gestures sweep the string sections in compelling hairpin
>dynamics, and the rich, full body of the ensemble (02:06 to 02:31) is
>superbly registered. Yet in '39 there is more characterization of
>individual variations, enhanced by the tempo rubato that has been
>replaced by the inexorable steady pacing of '53.
>However, by the coda (with its forceful interjections by the
>passionate timpanist Karl Glassman, whose outbursts of Italianate fury
>must have delighted Toscanini) we have been on the ride of a lifetime:
>the Maestro's touchstone, his last Eroica after over fifty times'
>public traversal of the score.
Let me also add to the comments on the last movement, that the climax of
this movement, indeed the climax of the entire work, the entry of the Poco
Andante con expressione after the full orchestra fermata, that I've heard
none more poignant, tender, passionate and sweeter than this. It's a
stunning revelation, and the raw emotion is more marked by the contrast
with the fast tempo, and strict playing before it.
-Owen
Curtis Croulet
>has released everybody prefers.
There was a recent discussion about this here, and it turned out that not
*everybody* prefers the same version. Of those in my collection, today I
rank them thus:
1939
1949
1953 (well behind the previous two)
1938
1945
I tried in vain for over 30 years to love the vaunted 1953 version, and then
I heard 1939 and 1949 in good sound. To my ears they totally eclipse 1953.
As for the last two: 1945 is scrappily played and does nothing that wasn't
done better elsewhere. 1938 is musically similar to 1939 but has vile
sound. The remark that 1939 is "un-Toscanini-like" (or something similar)
is true only if you consider Toscanini's later NBC recordings to be
representative of his career. Probably none of us in this ng have ever
heard AT as he really was during the major part of his career, when many
musicians of all nationalities marveled at the continuity, flexibility and
color of his best work.
Lehobe
sense of forward propulsion gives way to a tendency to rush, not only in the
first movements, but also in the slow movements. The appearance of the First
Movement's subsidiary theme in the 1953 performance is to me perferable to the
1938 one because there is just the slightest indication of rubato and breath of
phrase that to me is appropriate, rather than merely a reduction of the
dynamic. I don't wish to monopolize this space, but that is my general feeling.
Lehobe
historically and artistically satisfying...if you have a weak spot in your
heart to hear the original members of the NBC Symphony, as do I, (along with a
younger Maestro!), by all means do acquire the 1938 performance as well as the
1953 and the 1949 one.)