STOKOWSKI'S Return to Philadelphia (1960) - PASC264

There was excitement in Philadelphia in January 1959 when it was announced that Leopold Stokowski would be returning to town the following year to appear with the orchestra that he had last led in 1940. In an interview, he described himself as “very pleased,” adding, “but it took a long time, didn’t it?” Eager patrons had to wait until February 12, 1960, for the big night. Needless to say, the Academy of Music was packed and enthusiastic. Those who were unlucky enough not to have tickets had to content themselves with the radio broadcast. I have read that some subscribers were offered $50 for their tickets (that’s more than $360 in 2011 dollars). Many in attendance remembered him from his long tenure with the orchestra. Not taking any chances, the maestro had chosen a program of virtually conductor-proof pieces. The results were predictable and the recording serves as evidence. Except for the Mozart overture, he had already made excellent recordings of these works. The only thing on this concert that he went on to record again was the Falla, with a young mezzo who was then billed as “Shirley Verrett-Carter.” He had hoped to record in the scene of his former triumphs, the venerable Academy of Music, but was disappointed to discover that the sound had dried up quite a bit since his days there. His assistant, Jack Baumgarten, told me that Stokowski was inclined to blame the installation of an organ during the 1940s for what he considered the deterioration of the hall’s sound.

During his radio remarks that preceded the concert, the orchestra’s assistant conductor, William R. Smith, mentioned that Stokowski was using his radical reseating of the players, with most of the strings on stage right and center, basses lining the back wall, and winds, brass, and percussion at stage left. I find this knowledge quite vexing because, even with headphones, I cannot perceive a clear, obvious placement of the instruments. There is some but, really, very little directionality—yes, the violins seem to be to my left and a few brass instruments and some percussion seem to be emerging from my right speaker, but the winds seem to wander; I can easily imagine most of them seated in their customary spots in the center. If this is a stereo recording, as Pristine claims, it has about the narrowest spread of any stereo recording I’ve ever heard; it sounds almost like some sort of “enhanced” mono to me. That is not to say that it sounds bad; it’s quite powerful and vivid, and the combination of this conductor and this music, not surprisingly, turns out to be a surefire winner. It has been said that the orchestra played as if he had never left, easily shifting into its Stokowskian mode despite the passing of 19 years and the presence of new players (there were 36 Stokowski alumni remaining plus a few former members of his All-American Orchestra). I should point out that Ormandy had his own sound, as Stokowski had his; they were not peas from the same pod. Interestingly, when Stokowski and Verrett made their studio recording of the Falla shortly thereafter, probably in the ballroom of the Broadwood Hotel, the orchestra, perhaps at the producer’s urging, was seated more conventionally, with violins on the listener’s left and violas and cellos on the right.

How can I possibly describe these performances? How can a conductor possibly ruin The Marriage of Figaro Overture? Stokowski certainly doesn’t, but Mozart doesn’t give him the opportunities that later composers did. The Falla, though intensely impassioned and ravishingly played, is, I think, even narrowly surpassed by the studio recording, which is my absolute favorite El amor brujo. Verrett is nearly perfect: The voice is appropriately dark without being inappropriately heavy and she doesn’t knock herself out trying to sound gutsy. And listen to that juicy string playing! The performance of Respighi’s Pines of Rome is one very good one among many, not unlike his Symphony of the Air recording. Stokowski’s association with Shostakovich’s music goes back to the 1920s and he made outstanding recordings of the First Symphony (twice), the Fifth (twice), Sixth (twice), and 11th, not all of them with the Philadelphia Orchestra (I regret that he never got around to Nos. 8 and 9). There was also a privately issued one of the 10th by the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, also outstanding. This particular performance uses conventional tempos but Stokowski’s special magic with the massed strings makes for a level of intensity that’s hard to match, although I will concede that this symphony, like The Pines, has done well on recordings. Many highly anticipated “special occasions” don’t turn out to be particularly special, but this one apparently did and may have even caused some Philadelphians to subscribe to a whole series just so they could be there. There were probably few regrets about that.

James Miller

This article originally appeared in Issue 34:6 (July/Aug 2011) of Fanfare Magazine.