BEECHAM in Seattle, Volume 1: Delius, Elgar, Wagner (1943) - PASC212

There are probably few collectors who remember—if they ever knew—that Sir Thomas Beecham spent about two years as music director of the Seattle Symphony. It was during World War II, and Beecham had left England, doubtless because musical activities there were so severely curtailed. (His memorable explanation: “I was informed there was an emergency, so I emerged.”) Beecham’s tempestuous tenure in Seattle, during which he battled fiercely and publicly with local critics, ended abruptly in late 1943 following a colossal blow-up; it also coincided with the so-called Petrillo ban, a strike by the American Federation of Musicians against the recording companies, so there were no commercial recordings. (Not that it’s likely that there would have been, even without the strike; with the exception of Victor’s recordings of the San Francisco Symphony, the major American record companies showed little or no interest in musical activities on the West Coast, and any expansion during wartime would have been difficult.)

Judging by the notes by Pristine producer Andrew Rose, it is a small miracle that any documents of Beecham’s Seattle years survive at all; he reports that all he had to work with were third-generation cassette dubs from the original acetate discs, which no longer exist. Given that, the sound he has been able to extract from these tapes is impressively full, especially in the Meistersinger act III Prelude that opens this disc. But more about technical matters in due course.

Beecham recorded all of the music on the present disc commercially, twice in the case of the Flying Dutchman Overture and no fewer than three times for the Delius miniature. (EMI also issued a 1959 concert performance of the Meistersinger Prelude, currently available on an ArkivCD.) So, it is reasonable to ask whether the present recordings are of more than documentary interest. On the one hand, even though Beecham was one of the first conductors to embrace and make truly effective use of the phonographic medium, his live performances often feature a level of energy and excitement that far surpasses even that of his finest studio recordings. But—and it is only fair to complicate the equation with this qualifier—there are other live versions of most of these items already available, in sound quite superior to anything Pristine can offer here: the Flying Dutchman Overture and Enigma Variations, both from a November 1954 concert, are on SOMM BEECHAM 20 (Fanfare 31:3) and 22 (32: 2), respectively; the Prelude to act III of Die Meistersinger, from one of the Royal Philharmonic’s first concerts in 1946, is on BEECHAM 19 (31:6).

Regarding the performances given here, the Meistersinger act III prelude is as broad as, and probably more fluid than, the 1946 London version; the act I prelude is typically energetic, with a notable più mosso in the coda. The Enigma Variations is a study in contrasts, the theme and variation 1 (“C.A.E.,” the composer’s wife) quite slow, the second, fourth, and particularly seventh variations (“Troyte”) very fast. The playing is scrappy at times, but “Troyte” makes what Beecham would have called “a grand racket.” The famous ninth variation, “Nimrod,” is wonderfully hushed (the effect unfortunately undermined by heavy surface noise), but not as broad and noble as the 1954 version. Beecham really whips up the finale, his shouts of exhortation to the orchestra quite audible at a couple points. The excerpt from the E-Minor Serenade is tender and sympathetic, its allusion to Die Meistersinger the more evident because of its placement on the disc! The overture to The Flying Dutchman is the weakest orchestral performance, with several instances of less-than-polished ensemble.

Given Rose’s description of his source materials, it is a wonder that any of these recordings are listenable, but for the most part he does make them sound quite tolerable. There are some dropouts in the Meistersinger act I Prelude, and the sound of the Dutchman Overture is awfully thin. The biggest problems, unfortunately, are in the Enigma Variations; starting around the opening of “Nimrod,” worn and damaged acetates cause a great deal of surface noise and blasting. As Rose also notes, the Elgar Serenade and the Delius are missing their opening bars; he does not mention the fact that in the variations, “Dorabella” (variation 10) is missing its first 18 or so measures as well.

All of this material comes from Beecham’s abortive third season in Seattle; according to Rose, two additional CDs’ worth of material exist, and presumably he will issue these in due course. We can hope that they include items new to the Beecham discography; this first volume, by virtue of duplicating repertoire available elsewhere in better performances and sound quality, is primarily for collectors with a special interest in the Seattle Symphony or who, like your reviewer, must have every note Beecham recorded.

Richard A. Kaplan

This article originally appeared in Issue 34:1 (Sept/Oct 2010) of Fanfare Magazine.