1933 Les chefs proscrits – Wilhelm Grosz conducting works by J. Strauss I and II, Weinberger, Suppé, Lehar, Rbenstein, Kalmán, Liszt, Rachmaninoff, Schubert, Grosz – Forgotten Records FR 2190 (78:23, complete content list below) [www.forgottenrecords.com] *****:
In the annals of so-called Entartete Musik (the Nazi epithet for “forbidden music”), there falls the creative work of Austrian pianist-composer Wilhelm Grosz (1894-1939), whose impressive pedagogy included piano studies with Richard Robert, composition studies with Franz Schreker, and musicology with Guido Adler. Grosz earned the appointment to the Mannheim Opera in 1921, though he soon returned to his native Vienna. From 1927 until 1934 he headed Ultraphon Gramophone Company in Berlin, the predecessor of Telefunken, even as he led the Vienna Kammerspiele Theatre.
The rise of National Socialism and its anti-Semitic policies forced Grosz to emigrate to England, where he could not find support for his avant-garde musicianship, which incorporated jazz styles into his classical forms. In fact, Grosz precedes both Shreker and Weill as the first Austrian composer to incorporate jazz, as had Frenchman Darius Milhaud prior, in 1923, for La creation du monde. Rather, like fellow musician Erich Korngold, Grosz directed his melodic gift into transcribed popular songs and film music, many of which became widely successful. The London publishers dismissed his classical music but coveted his gift for combining his melodic gift with dance sequences. The 1938 second emigration, to the USA – which left some of his family stranded in England until 1945 – created emotional stresses that took their toll on his health, and Grosz died in New York in late December 1939 from a heart attack while at the piano, accompanying a trio of ladies in the final scene from Der Rosenkavalier. A film clip survives, made in 1934, of Greta Keller accompanied by Grosz in his song, “The Isle of Capri,” while his song, “Along the Sante Fe Trail,” found use, orchestrally, in the film Sante Fe Trail, starring Errol Flynn, Olivia de Havilland, and Raymond Massey as an inflamed John Brown.
One fascinating approach to this rare collection lies in auditioning Grosz’s approach to the repertory in which he accompanies the Berlin Philharmonic and his own jazz score for the 1931 film Who Takes Love Seriously? Grosz first appears at the keyboard in Anton Rubinstein’s Valse-caprice (4 December 1930), leading the Berlin Philharmonic in a rendition high on sparkle and light feet. The tubby brass sound adds a touch of humor to the otherwise wistful occasion. Grosz delivers a snazzy cadenza just prior to the splashy coda. The Liszt arrangement (18 December 1930) virtually swims in arpeggios and slurred lines, a real ‘lollipop,’ in Beecham’s terminology but more to the taste of Arthur Fiedler.
From the same session we have the ubiquitous Rachmaninoff Prelude in C# Minor that drove the composer to distraction. Piano and orchestra trade filigree, and the middle section features a storm of tremolos and crashing chords, even tolling bells. Subtle this is not, but potent and effective, which reads like Bogart’s comment to Claude Rains in Casablanca. Grosz plays piano solo for the popular Schubert Marche militaire in D, Op. 51 (December 1929). The middle section proves especially attractive, a carillon of lovely bell tones and a smooth legato. The da capo sparkles in its studied return, mixed with part syncopation. So, too, the F Minor Moment musical, played as a slightly menacing, andante march with laendler impulses. Grosz’s bass adds a few color touches worth the price of admission. A moment or real bluesy, New Orleans comes from the film Who Takes Love Seriously? whose plot involves dog-nappers who try to extort money, but love makes its intrusive presence felt. Max Hansen, one of the principals, sings the title song, which alternates with some sly moves from the jazz ensemble. Hansen’s voice, rather nasal in quality, intones the words by Fritz Rotter.
The opening number, J. Strauss, Jr.’s Morning Papers Waltz from an active17 September 1930 session of five items progresses in a highly abridged form, though the BPO executes the quick snaps and slides with easy facility. I still opt for the version by Clemens Krauss. The succeeding Aquarelle-Walzer, too, must conform to the four-minute limit of the 78rpm medium. A pity, since Grosz’s grasp of the innate Vienna style feels entirely, suavely natural. Along with the smooth, controlled string sound, the presence of the harp makes a palpable impression. This is old-world Strauss, replete with slides and broad rubatos. The Seid umschlungen Millionen Walz, the title borrowed from Beethoven, enjoys a delicate sonority and a mixed-color blend, all the while dancing with a spirited sense of pulse. The famously consistent New Year’s entry, Annen-Polka, resonates with party colors, an upbeat rendition that savors witty panache. Grosz decides to take the middle section at a fertile gallop. The energetic Tritsch-Tratsch-Polka has all the flighty and fast, gossipy energy the piece requires, with a series of shimmering rocket-figures from the ensemble.
The next piece of Strauss comes from an earlier, 24 October 1929 session: the Tales from the Vienna Woods lacks the formal opening but retains the zither component, slowly strummed and well articulated. The woodwinds assume the tune, then the strings bounce into the horn annunciation of the main theme. The performance, cut over two sides, offers schwung and a throbbing lyricism. Grosz has a clean sense of transition, the deft coloring including the snare drum and keen string attacks. A huge cut to the main theme omits much of the Strauss development section, but the da capo retains a decisive, rhythmic and color appeal, returning to the studied charms of the zither. A pregnant pause takes us to a whirling, if not entirely satisfying, conclusion. The one remaining Strauss entry, Artists’ Life, comes from a 7 October 1929 recording session, and it swims in nostalgic molasses. The ensemble belongs to Grosz’s own Ultraphon Recording Company, and their resonant, sentimental response makes us wish there were more such documents.
The opening of Suppé’sThe Beautiful Galathea (27 October 1929) promises much, and the rest of the lovely overture delivers atmospheric color in spades. A bristling, Allegro section takes us onward and upward to the big waltz theme, here in a staggered introduction, always the eternal winner. The coda, via the BPO, resounds long after the fermata. The echt Vienna element resumes with Franz Lehar’s Gold and Silver Waltz, a sturdy embodiment (rec. 7 October 1929) of old-world charm and grace that would soon disappear from the Europe Grosz knew. Once more, the degree of orchestral response comes from Grosz’s own studio orchestra at Ultraphon. The most substantial Vienna entry lies in Emmerich Kálmán’s Fortissimo, Fantasie (17 September 1930), in which Grosz leads the Berlin Philharmonic in music that alternately resembles sentimental circus, ballroom, and jazz night-club venues. The atmosphere at several points to another Grosz, one George Grosz (1893-1959), the illustrator who caricatured decadent Berlin of the 1920s. Happily, Wilhelm concentrates on humane sentiments, playing down the moral sleaze that Kurt Weill captured more graphically. At its best, the Kálmán Fantasie plays like an early predecessor of Cabaret.
The last major memory of old-world Europe comes from Jaromir Weinberger, whose Schwanda the Bagpiper Fantasie (8 January 1930) has Grosz before the Berlin Philharmonic. Cut over two shellac sides, the piece offers hearty, rural energies in music that we do not often hear, since most conductors opt for the Polka and Fugue. A distinctly martial air enters about half-way into the arrangement, then follows the familiar, just-mentioned Polka in full pomp. A quiet interlude ensues, an idyll of romance that no less reveals some ardent drama. Some powerful trumpet work announces the apotheosis, the romantic haze of optimism and dramatic closure.
A fascinating, compelling collation of an under-represented talent, whose full catalogue of (neglected) works should warrant more attention.
—Gary Lemco
1933 Les chefs proscrits – Wilhelm Grosz
1JOHANN STRAUSS II: Morgenblätter Valse, Op. 279; 1Seid umschlungen Millionen, Op. 443; 1Annen- Polka, Op. 117; 1Tritsch-Tratsch-Polka, Op. 214; 1Geschichten aus dem Wienerwald, Op. 325; 2Kunstlerleben Valse, Op. 316;
2JOSEF STRAUSS: Aquarellen-Walzer, Op. 258;
1SUPPÉ: Die schöne Galathée, Overture;
3LEHAR: Gold und Silber, Op. 79, Valse;
1*A. RUBINSTEIN: Valse caprice;
1KALMÁN: Fortissimo Fantasie;
1WEINBERGER: Svanda dudák fantasie;
1**LISZT: Liebestraum No. 3;
1**RACHMANINOFF: Prelude in C# Minor, Op. 3/2;
2*SCHUBERT: Marche militaire D Major, D. 733/1; Moment musical in f, D. 780/3;
4GROSZ: Wer nimmt die Liebe ernst?
1Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra/ **Erich Orthmann conductor/ *Wilhelm Grosz, piano
2Unidentified symphony orchestra/
3Ultraphon Symphony Orchestra/
4Max Hansen, tenor/Jazz-Symphony Orchestra with Refrainsong
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