Classic Stereo recordings by the great British conductor Sir Adrian Boult are released in a wonderful new 79CD edition by Warner Classics this month, assembling in fine style his Columbia, EMI/HMV, Pye Nixa and Waverley recordings made between 1955 and 1978.
Tall and commanding, with his famous military moustache, Sir Adrian Boult (1889-1983) seemed very much the Victorian Field Marshall, controlling his orchestras with magisterial swings of his legendary 21-inch baton. Yet beneath that aristocratic Grand Old Man of British Music persona, Boult was a much more sensitive and versatile musician than his initially forbidding exterior would have many believe.
Indeed, right from his studies under the great Arthur Nikisch in Leipzig in the early years of the 20th century, Boult as a conductor modelled himself both in style and musical sympathies with the great European tradition of the 19th century – namely the central European repertoire, with a special affinity with the Viennese classics. Indeed, his first recordings made in the early 1920s – and beautifully housed in Warner’s prequel Boult set of all his HMV mono recordings released last year – bear out these early musical sympathies and there are plenty of even greater examples to be found in this new Stereo edition.
Boult’s approach to interpretation, which favoured wide, open orchestral balances with divided strings and doubled woodwind, were tailor-made for Stereo, along with his great ability to control and project the overall architecture of a work, replete with broad rounded phrases, powerful dynamic contrast and judicial emotional control.
Boult’s ‘type-casting’ as the Champion of British Music began in earnest during his long and pioneering years with the BBC Symphony Orchestra when, as their first conductor and director of music, he was contractually obliged to perform new works by composers from the homeland – which of course brought him into direct contact with the likes of Bax, Bliss, Britten, Elgar, Holst, Howells, Vaughan Williams and Walton among many others as a consequence. What began as a duty soon became a love with Boult’s authority in the British classics becoming well-nigh unassailable. As a consequence, Sir Adrian’s affinity with this repertoire followed him both to the London Philharmonic Orchestra, of which he became chief conductor and later President for Life, and into the recording studio, where the British tag became at times a source of mild frustration for him.
So, it came as a pleasant surprise when Boult was finally given the chance to set down his interpretations of some of the great European classics during his well-remembered Indian Summer with EMI during the 1960s and ’70s. And of course these can be found in Warner’s beautifully curated Stereo set. Who would have thought, for example, that Boult would ever present a cycle of J.S.Bach’s much-recorded Brandenburg Concertos? Yet, here is, set down in 1973 with the London Philharmonic – with whom he made the bulk of his Stereo recordings – and a roster of distinguished Baroque soloists including George Malcolm and the early pioneer of the Period Instrument movement, David Munrow. Up against stiff competition from the likes of Karl Richter, not to mention Historically informed rivals from abroad, Boult’s buoyant, fleet-footed Brandenburgs would catch many listeners out in a blind-fold test and would certainly prove preferable to the Mantovanian antics of Herbert von Karajan!
Then there are some examples of his wonderful and spacious Beethoven to enjoy: Arguably the finest recording ever made of the Violin Concerto, with Josef Suk as soloist, coupled with a formidable ‘ Coriolan’ Overture, and a gloriously proportioned, schmalz-free ‘Pastoral’ symphony which for many at the time was considered the finest of its kind since Klemperer’s. And who could forget what remains for many the finest recording of Schubert’s 9th symphony ever made? This huge, enigmatic work, which remains so difficult to capture on record, emerges as a monumental masterpiece under Boult’s baton, with cleverly judged tempi, surprising flexibility and unforgettable sonic power – bringing together as seldom before or since, both the Classical and Romantic terms of reference laden in the piece. An irritating edit, which cuts half a bar between the introduction and the first movement, creating a sudden jolt in the accelerando, remains the recording’s only flaw.
Compensating for his unfulfilled wish to become an opera conductor, the set includes Boult’s famous collection of Wagner Overtures and Preludes, replete with a recording of the Die Meistersinger Overture which could literally bring down the house, and of course his authentic and well-beloved Brahms cycle.
Sir Adrian’s Brahms series – and in particular his recordings of the four symphonies -could merit a separate article in their own right, such are their many merits. Freighted with the Leipzig Tradition of Brahms performance style, as learnt from Nikisch, these are essentially Classical, emotionally balanced interpretations, replete with swift, flowing tempi and a strict observance of every repeat and nuance of external and internal detail. Indeed, these performances display a style and approach to phrasing in this music I’ve never heard elsewhere and I feel most strongly a keen sense of History as Boult is sharing with us through these recordings how this music must have sounded to him in the early years of the last century. Likewise, his perky, neo-Classical accounts of the Serenades and Overtures and his dramatically searing accompaniment to Janet Baker’s definitive account of the haunting, emotional devastation of the Alto Rhapsody.
Naturally, a set of this magnitude is bound to contain a few disappointments but in Boult’s case those are mercifully few. For example, I’m sorry to say I was never convinced by his Mozart recordings. His performances of both the ‘Haffner’ and ‘Jupiter’ symphonies, while commendably avoiding the high performance gloss of Karajan for example, do for once, bring out the military in Sir Adrian. Brisk tempi, clipped rhythms and abrupt, no-nonsense phrasing give the impression of a school outing where the headmaster wants us to pack away our sandwiches and hurry back to the bus before the rain starts. Likewise in his famous recording with Andre’ Previn, whose sparkling pianism in concertos nos.17 and 24 is partially inhibited by Boult’s curiously stodgy conducting of the LSO – constituting a rather different collaborative experience for Previn from that of Morecambe and Wise…
In Tchaikovsky however, no such problems arise for, like Previn, Boult was an outstanding conductor of this music. His 1975 recording of the shamefully underrated Suite no.3 is memorable for its natural beauty, nobility and sense of spectacle while his sparkling Studio 2 collection of highlights from The Nutcracker and the Sleeping Beauty remain firm favourites for me during the Christmas holidays. Indeed, Boult’s ability as a remarkable conductor of ‘light’ or popular classics may also come as a welcome surprise to some. This new set houses some of them, not least showcase recordings of works by Gershwin, Glinka, Falla, Rimsky-Korsakov, Smetana, Suppe and Wolf-Ferrari. There’s even some Sousa marches as well.
At the very heart of the set, however, do indeed lie Boult’s benchmark recordings of key British repertoire. His Elgar series remains the most comprehensive on disc and I’m sure will rekindle fond memories for those who came to the Composer’s music via these benchmark performances. Beginning in 1966 and ending 1978, Boult’s Stereo Elgar recordings were truly in a class of their own. All the favourites are here and more besides: the major orchestral and choral works, the overtures and miniatures, the famous premiere recordings and classic concerto collaborations. As he grew older, Boult’s approach to Elgar – which was always in the Classic tradition – gradually became more spacious and – dare I say it – affectionate. A prime example would be those late recordings of the two symphonies where Boult, perhaps in homage to the memory of that other great Elgarian, Sir John Barbirolli, reinterprets these mighty masterpieces with a warmth and flexibility his friendly rival may well have recognized – reminding us also that the Elgar symphonies were intended to be a part of the great post-Beethovenian canon which the Composer himself so deeply admired.
And yes: Vaughan Williams – the composer with whom Boult enjoyed the longest and warmest of friendships. Sir Adrian’s early advocacy of the nine symphonies can be heard and enjoyed to thrilling effect in the first of the three box sets issued by Eloquence Classics the other year, which house his complete Decca recordings. Yet the EMI remakes, occasionally and sometimes unfairly judged inferior to the Decca originals, are nevertheless essential listening. The panoply, splendour and overarching humanity of Boult’s 1968 recording of ‘A Sea Symphony’ remains unequalled on record while his searching interpretations of the 3rd, 5th, 7th, 8th and 9th present us with Boult’s testament of Faith in both the Composer and his Music. The more combative 4th and 6th symphonies do partially hang fire alongside their original predecessors and Boult’s way with ‘A London Symphony’ is more redolent of Regent Street than Russell Square. But for all that they are superbly engineered – as most of the discs in this edition are – by the legendary EMI partnership of Christophers Bishop and Parker.
Other classic Boult/Vaughan Williams recordings feature in this set, including ‘The Pilgrim’s Progress’ and what remains most the most haunting and least cliched rendering of The Lark Ascending with Hugh Bean as soloist along with what for all listeners must be the definitive version of Job, the great work the Composer dedicated to Sir Adrian himself. Again, sonic spectacle, intense emotional undertow and natural affinity and understanding inform this, Boult’s final and finest remake of the piece – here played by the London Symphony Orchestra during sessions which famously finished early to make time for his return to European repertoire on record.
But it was British music however, with which Boult’s long career in the studio came to an end. By the autumn of 1978, now aged 89, Sir Adrian’s growing frailty and recent retirement from the public podium, left only a few sessions remaining: namely his last version of Holst’s The Planets – where EMI had an experimental Digital system running concurrently with the Analogue original which was finally used for the album’s final release – and a selection of works by a composer close to his heart, Hubert Parry.
Both albums possess a grandeur, natural majesty and surprising freshness that both bely Boult’s great age and yet embody a fitting culmination to his prolific and illustrious recorded legacy. Despite the occasional moment of imprecision, Sir Adrian’s last Planets shine with a power, transparency and dynamic intensity that few rivals have matched, while his lovingly conducted Parry compilation, ending with the deeply moving ‘Elegy for Brahms’, seems to say the most fitting and graceful goodbye.
All in all, this wonderful treasure trove of indispensible recordings commendably serves as a faithful monument to Sir Adrian Boult both as man and musician and as such enshrines one of the greatest musical legacies ever brought together by one man.
Robert Kenchington