Naxos Historical 8.111290, 72:42 [Not Distr. in the USA] *****:
As a triptych devoted to the purity of the Boston Symphony’s orchestral tone, these inscriptions are never less than immaculate. Roosevelt’s clear diction and didactic style complement the several instrumental choirs’ characterizations of the competing animals for Peter’s undivided attention. One will relish Mrs. Roosevelt’s enunciation of the word “lasso” on this record. The score itself is rife with melodic and metric allusions to the ballet Romeo and Juliet, of which Koussevitzky recorded a few excerpts. The Grieg (29 November 1950) is a string orchestra delight, the second of the Elegiac Melodies which Mengelberg cherished as well. As a valedictory hymn to Koussevitzky, the BSO strings provide a moving testament of elastic and virile power.
The D Major Symphony unfolds in illustrious sound, each note–especially in the BSO woodwinds and horns–etched in silver fire. The tympanic beats thunder even when played mezzo-forte, and the weird evolution of the modal theme–whatever its odd realization of sonata-form–achieves a pulverizing intensity. Every string climax aspires to extra-terrestrial heights, the periods entirely rounded, as to make Karajan weep with envy. The side joins, problematic in prior incarnations of this performance, here flow seamlessly. The superb trumpets come out of nowhere, much like Mozart’s entry of his soli in his Sinfonia Concertante, K. 364. The Aeolian mode Andante may well be the highlight of the inscription, from the opening bass pizzicati over rolling tympani, nodding an acknowledgement to Koussevitzky’s own instrumental beginnings. The superheated figures soon achieve a controlled hysteria, an adumbration of the heroic impulse that drives the entire last movement series of perorations. When the initial struggle of the Andante subsides, Nature reveals her mysteries in a flowering intertwining of motifs from Beethoven and Wagner informed by an idyllic Northern landscape. The convulsions return with unbridled fury; and rarely have the brass and string bass punctuations resounded so passionately, the flute and string lines so purely. If we haven’t been already emotionally spent, the whirlwind Vivacissimo casts us forth toward the abyss, the only relief coming from the BSO oboe and the surrounding flutes, winds, and strings. The horn pedal after the second series of apocalyptic bombardments establishes the trio once more; and then the spasm to the extended, heroic finale, ending with a series of dynamic adjustments to the main clarion theme reminiscent of Ravel’s method in Bolero. It’s hard to find one epithet that characterizes this recorded “event”; just invoking “noble” or “victorious” to describe Koussevitzky’s last commercial recording belies its ineffable spirit, likely “the most perfect record [he] ever made.”
–Gary Lemco
