Gramophone Magazine - December 2010

Boult’s solid Schumann symphonies and much-loved Berlioz reappear in stereo.

The high production values that distinguished Volume 1 of First Hand Records’ reissue of Sir Adrian Boult’s “1956 Nixa-Westminster Stereo Recordings” with the London Philharmonic are again in evidence for Vol 2. The transfers are admirably honest, the annotations (some by Boult himself) are unostentatiously authoritative and the presentation – three CDs and a booklet neatly packed into a sturdy gatefold envelope – is both space-saving and user-friendly. In other words, it’s a model product of its kind.
In his original album notes Boult reminisces about playing through piano-duet versions of the Schumann symphonies with Clara Schumann-pupil Fanny Davies. The story goes that at the end of the session Davies “produced a modern Czech symphony” (I’d love to know what that was) but young Adrian couldn’t break the spell of Schumann’s music and escaped to bed. He sees the second Symphony as a “Bright and dramatic work”, and that’s how he conducts it, with fast tempi in the outer movements (breathlessly speeding towards the Allegro though with no first-movement exposition repeat), a lively Scherzo and an Adagio that although refreshingly unsentimental is hardly espressivo in the way we’ve come to expect. The First Symphony (with repeat) is bracing and well judged but I’d agree with annotator Colin Anderson that the first movement of the Rhenish is just that bit too fast, or rather, too fast given that the London Philharmonic of the period wasn’t quite in the virtuoso league. If it had been, then the hard driving might have worked better. However, the middle movements, none of them rushed, are sensitively phrased and the positive qualities that apply there are very much in evidence throughout the whole of the Forth Symphony (again with its first movement repeat intact), a compelling performance by any standards, with some well-managed transitions. Interesting, too, how Boult employs subtle ritardandos in the first movement’s development section.
The Berlioz recordings were for many years de rigueur for anyone in need of a comprehensive survey of the overture and they still stand up fairly well, though Waverly and Le corsaire are a mite too stolid for my liking. Best are les franc-juges and a powerhouse Le carnaval romian.
The recorded balance tends to shift from piece to piece and the aura of primitive stereophony leaves a vague impression of Boult’s seating plan for the orchestra (sometimes the violin desks sound as if they might be divided, at other times they seem seated together), but in most other respects the sound is remarkably good for its period. So a very welcome addition to the Boult discography, and added proof that this most straight-backed of maestros was quite capable of making sparks fly.

Reviewed by: Rob Cowan

ARG - July 2011

In just over two weeks from August 15 through 31 of 1956, Sir Adrian Boult set down the entire series of stereo recordings that veteran record collectors remember fondly from Westminster LPs: the Walton, Elgar, and Britten reviewed in the last issue (First Hand 6: p299; and the sessions represented here comprising all four of the Schumann symphonies and what remains for all practical purposes the first – and for a long time only – compilation of the “complete” overtures of Berlioz, absent only the brief Prelude to Les Troyens a Carthage.

Westminster was an American record company that worked closely with its British partner Nixa (owned by Pye) who shepherded these sessions by the London Philharmonic taped at Walthamstow Assembly Hall and produced by Westminster’s vice President and Music Director Kurt List. In keeping with contractual policy, the recording were attributed to the “Philharmonic Promenade Orchestra” and they sold immensely well. PRT Nixa bought out the Schumann symphonies on CD in 1989; yet save for Rob Roy – issued by EMI in 2002 along with the Schumann 4 in their “great Conductors” series (July/Aug 2003, p 181) – the Berlioz overtures have had to wait until now for commercial release. What a great pleasure to welcome all of these performances in state-of-the-art transfers from master tapes.

I have cherished the Schumann and Berlioz since they first came out on LP, and I don’t have to tell any of you who prize the Golden Age of vinyl as I do what a thrill it is to see all of the record covers reproduced here, even though all four Schumann symphonies boasted the same cover art, Paul Chabas’s September Moon. (And there’s no question this fetching damsel in her birthday suit drew attention in the LPs!) In monaural the symphonies were crammed onto two discs, whereas in stereo each of the four symphonies took up an entire LP. They also came with notes courtesy of Sir Adrian that are given in the booklet. In turn, the first Berlioz foursome including Roman Carnival had a great splash of color – a “carnival of color” if you will – while the second disc with La Corsaire was distinguished by two warring frigates under full sail, and both bore wonderfully absorbing noted by then Editor of American Record Guide James Lyons, who was also a founding member of the Berlioz Society – his description of the Wesphalian Fehmic Tribunal that held sway in cases of witchcraft and heresy until 1568 and furnished Berlioz with the materials for Les Francs-juges was by itself worth the price of admission.

And as trenchantly as the Westminster engineers captured the LPO brass in Roman Carnival and Corsaire, in this set – just like the LP – it is without a doubt Les Frances-Juges that most repays playback at full room volume; the rass sound wonderful, and that great booming bass drum about midway in (filled out by the timpani) really gets my speakers shaking. The trombones at the close of Corsaire and the flaring brass that cap Roman Carnival were simply the best around in those days and still sound splendid today, though even annotator Colin Anderson has to admit “there are more swashbuckling readings of Le Corsaire around”, and Roman Carnival while certainly insouciant and songful will seem slack next to Munch, Paray, or Bernstein. Back then sound was the thing; and Westminster could be counted on to deliver the goods.

Even so, there were a few misfires; the brass really blare at the end of King Lear – though the all-important basses dig in with a will in the opening pages – and also in Beatrice et Benedict, whose impish qualityis quite lost at Boult’s rather impatient tempos. In Ben venuto Cellini he all too often seems prosaic, but I was pleased to hear how the swirling violins held their own even against the forceful trombones at the close – a lot better than some more recent recordings I could name. Best of all are the two overtures that I’m willing to bet were recorded for the very first time by Boult: the sinfully neglected Waverley that limns all the romance and conflict of Sir Walter Scott’s novel – James Lyons properly describes it as “among the most amazing of all the works in the orchestral literature designated as ‘Opus 1’” – and  Rob Roy (also from Scott) where the glorious LPO horns usher in the familiar strain, ‘Scots wha Hae wi’ Wallace Bled’ also employed by Bruch in his Scottish Fantasy. Farther in, the oboe sings a plaintive song that we shall hear again from the viola in Harold in Italy. Even with superb modern renditions by Sir Alexander Gibson readily available, we can enjoy Boult’s sturdy account, not least for the pellucid miking of the harp that just as with the Bruch plays quite an important role in this essay.

Certainly Sir Adrian’s Schumann symphonies are highly enjoyable too, if hardly on the same exalted level as the cycles of Sawallisch, Paray, and Bernstein. But even with some misgivings – most of them tempo-related – I would rank Boult far above any of the surveys I reviewed in the last issue, state-of-the-art sonics or no. By now I imagine it’s common knowledge that Boult learnt the Schumann symphonies from playing them as a duet with the renowned pianist Fanny Davies, who was in turn a pupil of Clara Schumann, as well as by attending the concerts of Arthur Nikisch – in many ways the Bernstein of his day – whose highly personal touches even won the approval of Frau Schumann seated front row center at the Leipzig Gewandhaus.

Some measure of Boult’s brisk tempos may be gleamed from the fact that the C major (2) originally fit sugly on one side of an LP – at 30:48 (with pauses) he leaves just about everyone save for Toscanini sprawled in the dust – yet there is little that seems unduly rushed. The rather sturdy finale even conjures a certain Brahmsian grandeur, more Eusebius than Florentine perhaps. But anyone who comes to the symphony from the Paray cycle like me will surely have no problem with Boult’s sweeping conclusion of I, let alone his exhilarating Scherzo, though at 7:04 the Adagio espressivo does skim the surface somewhat. You certainly can’t call it maudlin like the three dogs in the last issue.

Even Colin Anderson blanches at Sir Adrian’s breathless opening sally in the Rhenish, tearing off in a shower of gravel like no one before or since; yet he lingers affectionately over the second subject – the next two movements too – and in IV the Archbishop is canonized with fitting reverence yet without the heavy piety that weighs it down in so many performances. If the closing romp actually seems to lose something in exhilaration at Boult’s undue haste, Boult’s Rhenish  is worth a hearing once you get past the shock of the opening movement (total time here is 29:41).

A single LP side for the Spring Symphony seems all the more remarkable when you realize he takes the repeat in both outer movements, but so much of what he has to say may be heard from Bernstein and Paray as well. I was surprised that he omitted the repeat in 4:IV.

I was very impressed by how well these vintage tapes held together; save for a very slight waver in the transition into the finale of the Schumann 4 – and the inevitable hiss that you may not even find distracting unless you routinely set your treble all the way up like I do – the listener may simply settle back in his chair and harken back to the sensation that Westminster LPs always produced when played back at hi fi shows. Just as the engineers rarely let Boult down, so this set along with the British music released earlier (all distributed here by Harmonia Mundi) will immeasurably repay repeated hearings, and in the case of real showpieces like Les Francs-Juges – or for that matter the Walton symphony from the earlier set – really only full room volume will do. If you still have any doubts about the resounding success of First Hand’s transfers, all you have to do is pull down the old LPs from your shelf, put the Berlioz in your CD player and follow Westminster’s traditional advice: Listen – and Compare.

Reviewed by: HELLAR

 

 

Diapason - March 2011

An English Toscanini
As with Elgar, Britten, Walton or Schumann, Boult is everywhere in his home country. New recordings, mostly unedited, are rendered here in breathtaking stereo.

The first triple album features Boult’s interpretation of a British repertoire which he had often defended – though let us not forget that he ensured the creation of numerous English interpretations of the works of Bartok or Stravinsky, from Berg’s Wozzeck to Busoni’s Faust. He reveals an incomparable interpretation of Elgar: there is more between him and this rich, complex and pessimistic music than first appears – an osmosis comparable with that which existed between Furtwängler and Brahms or between Ancerl and Dvorak. Falstaff, a symphonic study like the Cockaigne Overture, the strange and ambitious Symphony no.2 – which he has interpreted five times! – is as fevered as it is measured. This is great art.
At the same 1956 sessions, Boult made the first stereo recording of Walton’s Symphony no.1 (1932-1935). His open phrasing magnifies the raw colours of the score, violent and often brilliant; the best rival versions (of Previn, Rattle, Gibson) follow a similar tack, but without bringing as much rigour to the construction. This highly personal work, despite obvious influences (Roussel, Sibelius, Stravinsky) remains one of the greatest English symphonies , next to Elgar’s 2nd, Vaughn Williams’ 4th, 5th, and 6th, and Tippett’s 3rd.
Britten’s Variations and Fugue on  a Theme of Purcell, written in a resolutely tonal language, though rich in free harmonics and in unusual rhythmic effects, returns to us with the benefit of two sober interpretations – one with Boult’s own commentary. The prodigious Sea Interludes and Passacaglia from Peter Grimes descend into the composer’s profound poetic universe, in a manner no doubt more austere but no less evocative than Bernstein or Giulini.
A revelation! The quality of these Schumanns reminds us that Boult studied at the Leipzig Conservatory, worked with Arthur Nikisch, and that he, out of all the British conductors, is the one who is most successful with the German repertoire.
Clarity of discourse and the impression of effortlessness were, according to him, the primary conditions of an ideal interpretation. His Schumann cycle , recorded in August 1956 with the London Philharmonic Orchestra, offers an excellent example – and is equal to his superb interpretation of all of Brahms’ symphonies. Through his adjustments of balance (of the grand form), the energy circulates unconstrained through a white hot orchestra (the remarkable placement of the flutes, the middle and bass strings and the horns). Dubbed the British Toscanini, he reveals himself everywhere as incisive, clear and dramatic – qualities usually found in the Schumann of George Szell or Paul Paray, but allied with a completely different suppleness.
Brilliant and intense in their extreme movements, the first two symphonies have a proud allure. If the 4th doesn’t entirely have the transcendent breath of Furtwängler/Berlin 1953 and von Karajan/Berlin 1957, its permanent tension (comparable to that which existed between Cantelli and the Philharmonia) cuts to the essence. Unified by a strong narrative sense, these interpretations form the most beautiful counterpoint with polyphonic clarity, and can surprise with their angular rhythm.
This excellent re-mastering restores the sound quality of the tapes created for Nixa-Westminster. We should also praise the Berlioz Overtures recorded on the same date; at once vigorous and nervous, the rhythmic ductility and Boult’s controlled phrasing create miracles.

Review by: Patrick Szersnovicz
(Translated from the French)

 

 

Fanfare Magazine, March/April 2011, pp. 544-545

After devoting a three-CD set  to a group of Adrian Boult’s Nixa-Westminster recordings of British music, First Hand Remasters now presents him in music by Berlioz and Schumann. Many of the Berlioz overtures listed above are seldom performed – you could attend concerts regularly and never hear the Waverley, King Lear, Rob Roy, or Francs-Juges overtures. As is the case with many of the Nixa-Westminster recordings, I think the string section is a bit undermanned but, in these overtures, it also has a plus side – it throws the wind section into prominence and warms the sonority. In fact, I have seldom enjoyed any of these overtures as much as I enjoyed Boult’s well-paced, sober readings. When he turns the brass section loose, it’s all the more effective ... and it’s a good brass section, too. Bravo, or should I say “bravi!”.
On the other hand, I was quite baffled by the Schumann recordings, including even their original LP artwork; what did Paul Émile Chabas’s notorious painting “September Morn” have to do with Schumann? The performances were originally issued on two mono LPs. Many of Boult’s tempos suggest that he was aware that some squeezing might be necessary to accommodate two symphonies per LP. Later, their stereo versions were issued individually, with each symphony, even the Fourth (with two repeats omitted), consuming an entire LP (with “September Morn” on each cover). Boult wrote that he played piano four-hands arrangements of the symphonies with Fannie Davies, who had been a pupil of Clara Schumann and claimed that she gave him insights into how the works should be performed.  My suspicion is that Kurt List, the recordings’ producer, had a lot more influence on his “interpretations” than Fannie Davies did. Once again, we hear the wind section more clearly than we usually do and its sound is welcome. I suspect that some of this detail is due to the use of a smaller-than-customary string section, but it works. Boult claims to have stuck, for the most part, with Schumann’s own orchestration while occasionally eliminating those doublings that he believes  thickened it unnecessarily.  Years ago I reviewed Schumann symphony releases for this publication  but gave it up because I found most of the performances seemed to have been cut  from the same mold and I simply ran out of things to write. Whatever else I might say about Boult’s  cycle, I can’t accuse him of producing cookie-cutter Schumann; at their worst, these are, at least, “interesting” performances. Boult’s choices in the First Symphony are all justified. After an orthodox introduction, he leads a sprightly Allegro molto vivace. The middle movements are well done and in the Scherzo, he takes Schumann’s Allegro vivace  seriously, without the heaviness some conductors inflict on it. I would have preferred more of a sense of play in the last movement – it is, after all, marked Allegro animato y grazioso. There isn’t much “grazioso” here; Boult’s treatment is pretty straightforward.
In the Second Symphony, Boult really rips into the exposition, presumably skipping the repeat in order to squeeze the piece onto the same CD as No. 1. It’s rather fast for my taste but I’ll admit that his tempo shakes things up, throws some details into bolder relief, almost makes it seem like a different piece. The timing is 8:54; compare that with whatever recording you have. I think his hasty rush through the Scherzo is a mistake that results in some blurred string passages, and his grudging observance of ritardandos almost turns the movement into a musical run-on sentence. On the other hand, he takes the Adagio espressivo faster than anyone I have ever heard do it (7:04) and it hangs together very nicely. In the future, I’m going to be even less patient with conductors who dawdle over it. The finale comes as a shock; it’s like everyone else’s and nicely done with big, solid timpani strokes at the end.
Did Fannie Davies tell Boult that Lebhaft translates as “very fast”? The outer movements of the “Rhenish” are hard-driven – he’s going to bring the thing in under 30 minutes if it kills him (he does ... at 29:21). Movements 2 and 3 are OK, but he certainly doesn’t stop to smell the flowers. The fourth movement moves along smartly, too, but here it hangs together quite well at Boult’s tempo and the winds give it a mellow solemnity, but it doesn’t save the day and I think this is the weakest of the four performances.
Boult’s way with the Fourth Symphony isn’t slow, either, but the first movement can take a fast tempo. Its bustling energy may remind some old-timers of Ormandy’s but not, perhaps, the occasional blurred strings. The middle movements are high quality (with one repeat skipped in III) but the last movement strikes me as surprisingly stately, yet rhythmically springy and dramatically punctuated. Did he eventually decide that Lebhaft doesn’t mean “very fast”? Or did he relax a bit, knowing that it was going to fit on the LP?
To sum it up: splendid, straightforward Berlioz overtures (he doesn’t treat them as superficial showpieces) and a fascinating, if erratic, set of the Schumann symphonies. First Hand’s transfers seem like honest (i.e., minimal tweaking) enhancements of the originals with just a very faint undercurrent of the original tape hiss – I expect that you’ll hardly notice it. As in the earlier Boult set, there are extremely detailed, extensive annotations that are appropriate for such a project as this.

Reviewed by: James Miller

 

 

Classical Source - Nov 2010

Three cheers for this hugely welcome follow up to First Hand Records' invaluable restoration of Boult's August 1956 Elgar, Walton and Britten recordings for Nixa-Westminster. I'm delighted to be able to report that the Schumann symphonies in particular have never leapt out of my loudspeakers in quite such irrepressibly vivid fashion as they do here. The conspicuously successful (and astutely non-interventionist) re-mastering is effected by Ian Jones at Abbey Road Studios from the Pye Nixa tapes currently held by EMI. If anything, the Berlioz overtures sound even crisper, the percussion captured with notable impact, though it's a shame about the unusual positioning of instruments which could be reversed channels in Le Corsaire and Le Carnaval romain (perhaps this can be rectified in a future pressing?).
Whoever had the bright idea of reprinting Sir Adrian's original liner-notes for the Schumann symphonies deserves commendation, as they shed fascinating light on his approach to this repertoire. It would appear that the abundant temperament and sparky interpretative profile of Boult's Schumann stem in no small degree from lessons learnt watching Arthur Nikisch, whose London concerts he first attended in 1902 while a 12-year-old pupil at Westminster School, and whose rehearsals he was permitted to attend during his year's sojourn in Leipzig a decade later. (Among the works the 23-year-old student witnessed the legendary maestro prepare were Schumann's First and Second Symphonies.)
Boult goes on to recall: “Although Nikisch's performances were always highly personal, many of us could feel quite happy when the composer was Schumann. Nikisch himself told how in the Leipzig Gewandhaus when he was conducting the Fourth Symphony with Frau Schumann in the audience, he came to the point in the development of the first movement where he usually allowed himself to coax a big largamente from the trombones as they lifted the orchestra over a series of beautiful modulations. This had aroused some adverse criticism from the conservatives of Leipzig, so he ventured a glance to the front row where the old lady was sitting, and was delighted to see her smiling with pleasure.” Boult does precisely the same thing in his own performance of the Fourth – albeit without jeopardising the exhilarating thrust and unswerving purposefulness of his conception. It is, indeed, a most gripping, strongly characterised interpretation, that great transition into the finale negotiated with unassuming authority and the closing pages paced to cumulative perfection.
Boult also reminisces about the experience of meeting Fanny Davies, herself a pupil of Clara Schumann, when they both served on the teaching staff of London's Royal College of Music. “I took the opportunity of asking her some questions, notably about the right treatment of the last movement of the C major symphony and how far one should add dynamic marks to the rather scanty directions left by Schumann. 'Come on, we'll play it as a duet!' was her answer, and before we were much older we had played all four symphonies, and I had had a wonderful lesson in interpretation.” He later describes how his doubts surrounding No 2's finale “which looks, on paper, like a rather soulless procession of a somewhat aggravating one-bar figure with no particular rhyme or reason about it” were banished by Davies's “gloriously convincing” treatment. “She played no two bars alike; the figure sprung to life, and above all became part of a sweeping line with a wealth of rhyme and reason urging it on.” You can, I think, hear all of this and more in Boult's thrillingly fiery yet affectionately songful account (the slow movement is especially touching). True, the playing of the LPO both here and throughout the cycle is wanting in stylish finesse and sheer tonal clout – and there are a sprinkling of minor slips with which to contend – but no one could fail to respond to the immense zest and whole-hearted dedication Boult's willing cohorts bring to the task in hand.
Elsewhere, the first movement of the ‘Rhenish’ shoots off like a rocket, yet Boult still manages to coax plenty of lyrical ardour from the subsidiary material. The remainder is less controversial. I like the genial sway of the Ländler, the demure restraint of the symphony's centrepiece even more so, but the fourth movement's nobly elevated tone is compromised by some slack ensemble and sour brass intonation. The finale is much better: lean, quick-witted and glinting with agreeable woodwind detail. That just leaves the ‘Spring’ Symphony, a keenly voiced, spontaneous-sounding affair, evincing the honest glow, generosity of spirit and meticulous concern for orchestral balance one associates with this great conductor.
As for the Berlioz overtures, Waverley is placed after the Second and Third Symphonies at the end of CD 2, with the other seven housed on CD 3. All are directed with a communicative flair, personable warmth and watchful integrity that more than compensate for the occasional scruffiness in execution. Certainly, there's no shortage of electricity or playful swagger in Boult's accounts of Béatrice et Bénédict, Les Francs-juges and Le Carnaval romain, though Le Corsaire can't match Beecham's famous 1958 recording with the RPO for giddy élan.
Let me conclude by saying that the presentation is first-class, with splendidly sage and informative annotations by Colin Anderson and Peter Bromley, and some nostalgic photos and artwork (including the sleeves of all six of the original American 12-inch stereo LPs on Westminster – one for each of the Schumann symphonies and the other two containing four Berlioz overtures apiece). Dare we now hope for the return of Boult's marvellously invigorating November 1954 Brahms symphony cycle? And how about his Schubert 'Great' C major from those same Nixa-Westminster sessions (yet to be issued on CD)? In the meantime, this is a gem of a set and absolutely not to be missed.

Reviewed by: Andrew Achenbach

Classic Review Quaterly - 2011

It is a great pity that Sir Ardrian was not given the opportunity to re-record the Schumann symphonies for EMI with the excellent LPO of the late 1960s and 1970s, since I feel that the results would have been very different - and rather better. In 1956 the orchestra was not in very good shape and the late John Snashall, who worked on many Boult sessions, told me that Sir Adrian knew this of course and used to drivw his players hard in some form of compensation for their shortcomings. Evidence of this approach can be found in all four performances, most of all in the opening movement of the Rhenish Symphony, which is taken at an absurdly fast pace.
In the notes which accompany this well documented set, Boult's own sleev notes for the original LP issues are reproduced. He refers to an occasion when he and pianist Fanny Davies, a pupil of Clara Schumann, played through all four symphonies as a piano duet. some form of laying on of hands might have been expected, but alas, Boult's approach to the symphonies is as unlike Davies's style, as shown in her few revelatory recordings of Schumann's music - notably the Piano Concerto - as could possibly be. Davies's mastery of pulse, rhythm and tempo provide continual insights into the Schumann tradition: Boult is at best broadly sympathetic, as in the slow movements, but at worst he is hectic and brutal.
The source of First Hand's transfers of the symphony recordings is Pye production masters. I think that sufficient time has elapsed for me to reveal another piece of information from John Snashall, that Pye/Nixa's engineer at the time (whom I shall not name), went through a personal crisis and in a manic state subjected many of the company tapes to what John described as "plate echo", a technique then often used to ass artificial reverberation, and then detroyed the original material. First hand have done a very good job in converting this degraded source material into acceptable early stereo quality (the corresponding US Westminster tapes no longer exist), but what we have lost is shown by the recording quality of four of the Berlioz overtures, Corsaire, Roi Lear, Beartrice et Benedict and Rob Roy. In these cases original Westminster tapes survive, and the sound is much brighter and more natural.
Boult's Berlioz performances seem to me much more satisfying than his Schumann. It's so easy for a conductor to let the music's natural energy boil over into something which becomes brash and uncontrolled. Boult's approach to these scores is refeshing: he brings out their poetry an drama to very good effect, even if the LPO's fallibility is sometimes evident, but he also finds a balanced, classical element in the music which is ultimately more satisfying that superficial excitement.

Reviewed by: Alan Sanders

International Record Review- March 2011

Last year First Hand Records (FHR) issued a marvellous set of Boult's stereo recordings of British music made for Westminster in August 1956. Now here's a second volume from those busy sessions: the complete Schumann symphonies and eight Berlioz overtures. Boult takes schumann by the scruff of the neck and conducts a most exciting cycle of the symphonies: quick, bracing and energetically driven. As the conductor's own notes from the original LPs reveal, he used to play these works as a young man in piano duet arrangements with Fanny Davies, a Clara Schumann pupil frpm whom he clearly learned a great deal. The orchestral playing is generally good, if not always impeccable (there's some untidiness in the wickedly difficult Scherzo of No. 2), but the invigorating thrust of Boult's approach sets him apart from many of his rivals in these symphonies. The first movement of the 'Rhenish', for instance, is a surging, headlong journey in Boult's hands, while there's a characteristic nobility to his reading of the Cologne Cathedral movement of the same symphony. The whole cycle is immensely refreshing.
Boult's Berlioz is good too, if not quite as individual as his Schumann. the tricky corners of Beatrice and Benedict are neatly negotiated, and in general Boult and his players relish the brilliance of Berlioz's orchestral writing without always finding the wildness that Paray and Munch bring out in the music.
As with the first volume, FHR has done an extraordinarily good job with the remastering of these early stereo recordings, even though the original master tapes were available for only some of the material. it really doesn't matter: these are exceptional transfers.
Presentation is all it should be, with excellent documentation by Colin Anderson as well as Boult himself, and some fascinating seesion photos.

Reviewed by: Nigel Simeone

 

Opus Magazine - Sweden

Performance ***** Sound quality **** Feb 2011

MusicWeb International - Jan 2011

Here is the sequel to FHR’s hugely successful volume 1 which mixed Walton and Britten. Again two composers share the CD set. Full discographical and sessional detail is included in the booklet which includes Boult’s original notes for the Schumann and an outstanding essay by Colin Anderson.
The same leaping and almost irritable energy that we found in Boult’s Sibelius (Omega and Somm) can be heard here in his Schumann. Boult pushes the tempo forward unrelentingly. Listen to the way phrases almost collide in the first movement of the First Symphony - all to exultantly exciting effect. Try the flickering woodwind in I at 6:00 and again in the wild-eyed - even manic - finale. Then again try out the whiplash sprint of the Symphony No. 3’s opening. It’s pulse-racing stuff. For the slower movements Boult allows time for ideas to expand. The woodwind sound very good indeed and may even have been emphasised at the balance desk. Similar traits also surface in Boult’s Schumann 4 which also reminds us how effective an orchestral trainer Boult was. Punchy surging elan is the most instantly registered aspect of the Boult-Schumann Second; that and a burly sovereignty of expression. In the Lebhaft finale of the recent CPO recording of No. 4 Frank Beermann takes 5:33 while the intense and even furious Boult completes in a galloping 5:00 dead. Sadly Boult does not enjoy the opulence of recording technology that allows those Rhineland horns to rise in a towering aureate wave in the way they do for Beermann, Muti, Kubelik or Barenboim but by heck is this exciting playing! Boult, The British Golovanov.
Turning to the Berlioz tracks we have the interesting but low-key Waverley in sound that is not of the best but one gets to the allegro we again encounter the firebrand Boult driving fast music as fast as - and faster than - it will go. Le Corsaire sounds so much better with the analogue hush more distant and the intrinsic music signal rich and full, the stormy-surge of the strings faithfully put across and the massive rhythmic rush of the finale out across with as much power as the best recordings of Francesca da Rimini (Stokowski, Mravinsky and Ovchinnikov). The same goes for the neglected Le Roy Lear. The steely Mendelssohnian delicacy of Beatrice and Benedict stands out as does the brash abandon of the closing pages. Rob Roy looks to the hunting chivalric themes of the Scott novels - note link back to Waverley. For Benvenuto Cellini and Les Franc-Juges the original tapes must not have been in as good heart as those for the first four works on CD 3 as there is a distancing not felt elsewhere except in Waverley - even so the dangerously exhilarating music-making is still there. For all the worship of Colin Davis in Berlioz these Boults are something special. We can hear that also in the sprint and shudder of the concluding Carnaval Romain where the sound quality finds something of the vibrant immediacy of Le Corsaire.
The recordings on this set are - except as noted - vivid indeed with soloistic pages reaching out strongly to the listener. The price you pay is the unmistakable analogue hiss. It’s there, though the mind soon tunes it out as the music takes its hold. One must make allowances for the sometimes raw rasp on the brass and the suggestion of shrillness on the massed strings.
In the case of the Schumann one wonders whether this is the way Boult heard the symphonies during his years studying in Germany and closely watching the ways of Artur Nikisch.
The recordings are all stereo and in many cases this is the first time the stereo tapes have been issued in any format.
The fourfold card case neatly houses the booklet and 3 discs. A nice touch is the reproduction of the LP sleeves of the 1950s issues - 4 Schumann and 2 Berlioz.
Roll on a complete Nixa-Boult-Sibelius set and long may FHR’s licensing connection with EMI Classics continue.

Reviewed by: Rob Barnett