Because so many of Charles Munch's recordings made during his years with the Boston Symphony (1949-1962) are still in the catalog, the conductor seems almost a contemporary of ours. The compilers of this two-disc set in EMI's Great Conductors of the 20th Century series have wisely chosen not to duplicate his best (and best-known) recordings, though it's too bad that in a series that usually manages to include some live concert performances, these all stem from the studio.Not that they're studio-bound, but Munch "live" could sound even more spontaneous and energetic, although he also could go off the rails at times. That crackling energy is apparent throughout these discs, never more so than in this febrile 1958 Beethoven Ninth. The first movement excites right from the start and the Scherzo is as rhythmically propulsive a molto vivace as you can get and still elicit precise articulation. Even the Adagio, with its flowing tempo, comes off sounding closer to an andante; but every note sings. The big last movement bristles with power, relaxes slightly for the Turkish March, then takes off like a rocket. It's especially notable for the young Leontyne Price, who shines in the thankless soprano part, her voice at its freshest, soaring effortlessly over massed chorus and orchestra.
Another highlight is Martinu's Fantaisies symphoniques (Symphony No. 6). The work was dedicated to and premiered by Munch, who made this, its first recording. It's a work of quicksilver alternations between slow and fast passages, and Munch beautifully handles the dizzying abruptness of its transitions, making them sound inevitable. The second movement is a special delight, opening with buzzing strings and burbling winds that fill the air with anticipation--and for seven enchanting minutes Munch spices the mood with urgency, lyricism, and humor. Bizet's Symphony in C, from 1966 with the French Radio Orchestra, is no less captivating, full of the dance spirit that inspired George Balanchine to choreograph the work.
Four selections from the suites Prokofiev crafted from his Romeo and Juliet ballet find the Bostonians in top form, but the remastering's flat perspectives and fatiguing up-close boxiness detract. Mendelssohn's own arrangement for full orchestra of the Scherzo from his Octet, a frequent encore piece for the BSO on tour, gets a scintillating reading. Berlioz's Corsaire Overture from Paris in 1948 is not much different from his later stereo version, and a 1951 Boston Saint-Saëns' Overture to a forgotten opera, La Princesse jaune, are the only items that aren't in stereo.
EMI's high-level transfers don't get as much out of the originals as they could, and often induce digital fatigue. Listen to Munch's RCA Living Stereo recordings that have been reissued on JVC's audiophile XRCD series and you'll hear a more open sound, deeper soundstage, firmer bass, and wider dynamics. The Beethoven is especially disappointing, with skewed balances, limited dynamic range, distortion in the choruses, and a boxy sound alien to what RCA's original engineers routinely achieved. It's still good to have this exhilarating Ninth since it's no longer in the U.S. catalog. The Martinu and Bizet are the freshest sounding pieces, the engineering worthy of the performances. [4/8/2003]
