STOKOWSKI Brahms Symphonies 2 & 4 (1929/33) - PASC562

This release marks the conclusion of Pristine Audio’s survey of the Brahms Four Symphonies, recorded for RCA by Leopold Stokowski and the Philadelphia Orchestra between 1927 and 1933, here in restorations by Mark Obert-Thorn. My Fanfare colleague Raymond Tuttle reviewed the initial two Pristine Audio releases, the first comprising the 1927 Brahms First, coupled with various shorter orchestral works (Issue 41:2, Nov/Dec 2017). The second disc, reviewed by Tuttle in the March/April 2019 issue (42:4), features the 1928 Brahms 3, and 1927 Dvořák “New World” Symphony. Tuttle praised both the performances and Obert-Thorn’s restorations, which he marginally preferred to Ward Marston’s remastering of the Stokie/Philadelphia Brahms cycle for a 1994 Biddulph two-disc set. I am in accord on both accounts, with more detail now to follow. During the course of his conducting career which spanned almost 70 years, Stokowski frequently programmed the Brahms symphonies. Stokie also made numerous recordings of the works, the 1927–33 cycle with Philadelphia being his first for each symphony. It’s worth noting, too, that Stokowski was born six years after the first performance of the Brahms First Symphony, and he was three years old when the last of the Brahms symphonies premiered in 1885. It might be a stretch to say the Brahms symphonies were “contemporary music” when Stokowski first conducted them, but they also hadn’t quite achieved warhorse status. And without question, the Stokie-Philadelphia Brahms cycle provides a treasured window into a bygone era of Brahms interpretation.

By the time Stokowski and Philadelphia recorded the Brahms 2 in 1929, the second decade of his tenure was drawing to its conclusion. This was a period when the conductor and orchestra were at their zeniths, capable of performances that were electrifying both for razor-sharp execution, and for a sonic canvas stunning in terms of richness, beauty, and power. If I were to nominate one recording from that era to showcase the unique qualities of the Philadelphia Orchestra under Stokowski, it would probably be their hair-raising 1926–27 Wagner Rienzi Overture. But I think the 1929 Brahms Second is a worthy souvenir as well. It is true that Stokowski could be a willful conductor in terms of interpretation, one not beyond altering the score to suit his preferences. In the finale of the Brahms Second, Stokowski extends the sustained trombone and tuba passage through the start of the penultimate measure (the composer ends it a measure earlier). Stokowski also elicits beautiful string portamentos and frequent use of rubato that rarely occur in modern performance, much to our loss, in my opinion. But I think the glorious, marvelously blended sound of Stokie’s Philadelphians would be welcome in any age. In his liner notes for the Pristine Audio release, Obert-Thorn quotes Christopher Dyment’s comments from his book Conducting the Brahms Symphonies. Dyment characterizes the opening movement as “Classically balanced,” but the remainder as “markedly lacking in rhythmic lift and forward impetus.” It is true that Stokowski favors measured tempos and emphasizes the darker colors of Brahms’s orchestration. But to my ears, that represents an approach that is both different and intriguing, rather than inferior. Regardless of whether one agrees with Stokowski’s interpretive choices, the beauty and incisiveness of the Philadelphia Orchestra’s playing is beyond reproach. The 1929 recording, made in the Philadelphia Academy of Music, wears its years remarkably well, especially in Mark Obert-Thorn’s restoration that reveals considerable detail, dynamic range, and tonal richness.

When Stokowski and Philadelphia recorded the Brahms 4 in 1933, austerity measures necessitated by the Great Depression were in place. The complement of strings was reduced by about 2/3, and the recording venue was shifted from the Academy of Music to a church in Camden, NJ that had a notably dry acoustic. Stokowski compensated by employing a greater number of microphones, placed closer to the performers. This, coupled with Stokowski’s genius at eliciting a rich orchestral sound, resulted in a recording that perhaps is not the sonic equal of the Second, but still more than holds its own. And it is a marvelous performance. Here, the tempos are fleeter overall than in the Brahms Second, in a rendition that never lacks for momentum. Once again, lovely application of rubato and portamento is a prominent, welcome feature. For the most part, tempo fluctuations are applied in a restrained manner, one exception being the helter-skelter dash to the finish in the opening movement’s coda. The finale of the Brahms Four is a stunning series of variations over a ground bass Brahms incorporated from the final movement of Bach’s Cantata No. 150. As you might imagine, such music was tailor-made for Stokowski, a man who fashioned numerous brilliant orchestral arrangements of Bach works. The performance by Stokowski and Philadelphia of the finale is brimming with momentum and dramatic intensity, right to the shattering closing bars.

In comparing Marston’s restoration for Biddulph with Obert-Thorn’s for Pristine Audio, I found the latter to have slightly greater presence and dynamic range, with a corresponding (though not distracting) increase in disc surface noise. If you already own the Biddulph set, I don’t think the Pristine Audio is a must. But as the Biddulph is out of print, and the Pristine Audio is an excellent restoration, I recommend the new release without reservation. In fact, the one challenge I had with this review is that every time I sat down to write it, I first wanted to hear the disc over again! It was always time well spent.

Ken Meltzer