This particular agglomeration of mannerisms masquerading as an “interpretation” represents a singular blot on Thomas Beecham’s otherwise admirable career. The Nutcracker Suite suffers from sluggish tempos in the Overture and March (and affected phrasing to boot), a Trépak that turns into a rhythmically challenged tambourine concerto, and a final waltz in which the nasal winds and tonally coarse strings struggle to outdo each other in timbral ugliness. The “Little Russian” Symphony is even worse: both inner movements crawl by at shockingly dreary speeds, while Beecham seems helpless to minimize the impression of the finale’s repetitiousness. Dry as dust sonics make the orchestra sound like a ramshackle period-instrument band at the movement’s very inception: is this the Royal Philharmonic or the early-’60s Concentus Musicus Wien? Ugh!
