George Szell and the Cleveland Orchestra: The Forgotten Recordings = BACH: Orchestral Suite No. 3 in D Major, BWV 1068; SCHUMANN: Symphony No. 4 in D Minor, Op. 120; SMETANA: The Moldau; R. STRAUSS: Till Eulenspiegel’s Merry Pranks, Op. 28; MOZART: Symphony No. 39 in E-flat Major, K. 543; BRAHMS: Academic Festival Overture, Op. 80; Haydn Variations, Op. 56; STRAVINSKY: Firebird Suite (1919 Version) – SOMM Ariadne Recordings 5011-2 (2 CDs) (12/23/20) 69:44; 73:13 [Distr. by Naxos] *****
George Szell (1897-1970) retains a virtually peerless reputation for his having honed the Cleveland Orchestra into a virtuoso ensemble easily on a par with the best orchestras in Europe. The works assembled here, recorded 1954-1955, derive from sessions sponsored by the Book of the Month Club, which intended to popularize classical music with performances complemented by recorded musical analyses, by luminaries Thomas Scherman and Deems Taylor. Because of contract stipulations, the LPs produced had the ensemble appear under a fictitious name, namely, “the Music Appreciation Symphony Orchestra.” Given the relatively poor income of the Cleveland musicians at the time, the Bach Suite No. 3, the Strauss tone-poem, and The Moldau from his symphonic cycle Ma Vlast were set down for Columbia Records on 24 December 1954 as sources for additional income.
The Bach Suite – never duplicated by a later recording – proves rather disarming in its modesty of means: a reduced ensemble, with harpsichord continuo and clearly articulated double-dotting of the initial Ouverture. The Air receives a walking tempo, not at all “romantically” sluggish, and the ensuing dance movements move briskly, even with an occasional missed cue. The ever-familiar symphonic poem The Moldau of Bedrich Smetana enjoys a transparency that reminds us that Szell recorded From Bohemia’s Meadows and Forests with the New York Philharmonic. The potent onrush of the grand finale, as the river passes by the High Castle in Prague, makes us wish Szell had committed the full cycle to records.
Szell’s relationship with the music of Richard Strauss always produced virtuosic, incisive performances. The wit and flamboyance of the 1895 Till Eulenspiegel legend exacts spirited and pointed effects from the Cleveland horns and winds, especially. Strauss and Szell follow the misadventures of “the troublesome devil” with whimsical colors and tempo changes for the various episodes, concluding with a strangled cry from the clarinet at Till’s summary execution. Brisk and alert, the performance easily compares in fluent virtuosity with the reading we recall from the Epic Records recording made later.
Mozart held a special place for Szell’s otherwise acerbic personality: Stefan Bauer-Mengelberg, who assisted-conducted in both Cleveland and New York, quipped, “None tried to project menace and personal callousness more than Szell, but Mozart – God bless him – would melt even that rotter’s heart.” The luxurious Symphony No. 39 in E-flat Major (rec. 20 October 1955, in stereo) enjoys a leisurely Adagio opening that cultivates the Cleveland horn, wind, and string sections, then indulges some fine brass work, Allegro. The heart of the music, its Andante con moto, quite basks in the Cleveland sound. Swift, brilliant attacks mark the last two movements, pungent and fleet, yet still tempered by a suave sense of Mozart’s innate lyricism. The Trio of the Menuetto projects a rustic persuasion all its own. The woodwind pipings in the virtuosic finale, Allegro, bear repeated savoring.
Of the two Brahms readings on Disc 2, only the Haydn Variations ever saw commercial release in CD format. The 1880 Academic Festival Overture receives a boisterous performance as due. The amalgam of university tunes, decidedly frivolous, still manages to ascend – mostly through elevated work by Myron Bloom, horn – to inspired heights. The definition of orchestral effect – just listen to the string pizzicatos – compels our admiration. If we recall the meaning of the final homage, Gaudeamus igitur as “Let us rejoice in our youth,” the music succeeds in its nostalgic peroration. The familiar Haydn Variations serves as a showpiece for the diverse Cleveland instrumental choirs, and for Szell’s smooth art of transition. The Vivace, Variant 8, packs a real whollop, while the Grazioso gives us an old-world siciliano of graceful beauty.
In my interview with Leonard Bernstein in 1977, the topic of George Szell and Schumann arose, given that Bernstein had that afternoon led a performance of the Schumann Symphony No. 2. “Unlike Szell, I don’t conceive of Schumann as simply a purveyor of marches,” Bernstein remarked. But while martial elements pervade the Symphony No. 4 (rec. 20 October 1955), the first movement under Szell exhibits long and lyrical lines, quite indulgent of the Cleveland strings and woodwinds. The second movement, Romanze: Ziemlich langsam, has all the romantic allure we require in Schumann, without sentimentalism. The Scherzo does indeed proceed as march; then, it reverts, rather cyclically in the manner of the Beethoven 5th to the figures of the Romanze. I must confess that when it comes to the dramatic transition to the last movement, few conductors compel me so much as Cantelli and Furtwaengler. Szell breaks down the metrics of the Scherzo to adjust a gradual increase in tension to his ardently, even manically, propulsive Langsam – Lebhaft last movement. The result proves an effective archway rife with the Cleveland magic, and we gladly embrace this performance restored to us.
The last offering, the 21 October 1955 Stravinsky Firebird Suite in its 1919 version, finds Szell in relatively new territory. Once more, the color possibilities for the Cleveland orchestral choirs enthrall us in the seven selections, especially with the low string basses and the violins’ glissandi in the Introduction. The swirling figures of the Firebird and its one variation have flute and strings in liquid motion. The relative quietude of the Round of the Princesses shatters with the arrival of King Kastchei’s Infernal Dance, a real tour de force for the Cleveland brass and battery. With the Lullaby, the Cleveland, intimate transparency reigns in winds and harp. The French horn ushers in the fine fabric of the Finale’s opening pages, and Szell leads the orchestra to a brilliant apotheosis, fine testimony to his boast that “This orchestra plays like a very great soloist.”
—Gary Lemco
