Although a handful of no-holds-barred musicians is currently treading the boards, either in the concert hall or in the recording studio or both, none that I can think of quite equals the level of recreative daring that that most innovative of conductors Leopold Stokowski exhibited throughout his long career. For Stokowski, the page in front of him was a launch pad rather than an end in itself, which is why the best of his performances, live especially – a number of which are featured in ICA’s sensational stereo box – refresh our imaginations regarding any number of works.

One is Mahler’s Resurrection Symphony, taped at the work’s very first Proms performance (1963) with a fully fired up LSO – don’t forget this was the decade when Georg Solti made his incendiary LSO recording of the work for Decca – and which pulls out all the stops and more. It’s markedly superior to Stokowski’s 1974 RCA recording of the work – also with the LSO – which is among the least impressive of the conductor’s late sessions (he was 92 at the time). The ambient transfer of this 1963 Prom considerably enhances the set’s only mono inclusion, while the performance is enriched further by vocal contributions from soprano Rae Woodland, mezzo-soprano Janet Baker and various choruses (two from the BBC). Stokowski guru Edward Johnson kindly sent me copies of LS’s correspondence with William Glock, BBC Controller of Music at the time, who favoured the programming of Mahler’s Eighth Symphony rather than the Second. What a pity we couldn’t have had both!

Beethoven’s Seventh Symphony (BBC SO, 1963 Proms) harbours a somewhat alarming surprise in that the Scherzo is cut (or rather the repeat of the Trio section isn’t played). You’ll note a very short movement timing of 4'43", though writing personally, given the character of Stokowski’s performance, I can understand his decision, musically speaking. It somehow fits his fiery conception of the piece.

No such problem with the BBC SO broadcast that follows the Beethoven, another Prom (1964) and an electrifying performance of Falla’s El Amor brujo (with mezzo-soprano Gloria Lane) that surpasses, in terms of excitement, two other Stokowski recordings I have of the piece (both of them American). The Ritual Fire Dance fans the flames more threateningly – and at a faster pace – than any rival known to me and Lane’s contribution sounds idiomatic. The one puzzling performance (from the same concert as the Beethoven) on this fourth disc in the set is of Britten’s Young Person’s Guide, where phrases and tempos are wilfully pulled around right from the beginning … that is until the percussion variation and the ensuing fugue, which work well.

I was interested to note that for his Symphonie fantastique performance with the New Philharmonia Orchestra (1968) Stokowski placed his violin desks either side of the rostrum, a decision that pays high musical dividends. For the ‘Scene in the Country’ third movement the cor anglais and offstage oboe display a vivid sense of aural perspective, the ‘March to the Scaffold’ conjures a gory scenario, what with its prominent timpani and low brass, and the ‘Witches’ Sabbath’ (with bell backed by low piano chords) works itself into a maniacal frenzy. Scriabin’s Poem of Ecstasy is from the same concert and opens to an impressionistic haze before assuming a more muscular profile and thrusting forwards in the manner of Mravinsky or Svetlanov. The orgasmic ending draws loud shouts of approval from the Festival Hall audience.

The nonagenarian Stokowski drives an energetic Brahms Fourth (New Philharmonia, 1974), the end of the first movement wilder than most, the luscious return of the Andante moderato’s second theme showing the orchestra’s string section to fine advantage. From the same Royal Festival Hall concert come Ravel’s Rapsodie espagnole – Stokowski territory through and through, the music’s wide array of colours exploited to the full – and Vaughan Williams’s Fantasia on a Theme by Thomas Tallis, a work famously recorded by Stokowski and his Symphony Orchestra during the mono era, here, as there, string choirs invariably full-bodied, though there is also some extremely sensitive quiet playing. This concert opens with a corny earworm, Otto Klemperer’s Merry Waltz (‘Carry on Klemperer’?!), played by the New Philharmonia with spirit and panache. The disc closes with Stokowski’s imaginative orchestration of Nová∂ek’s eerie Perpetuum mobile (LSO, 1974).

A coupling of Shostakovich’s Fifth and Vaughan Williams’s Eighth (both with the LSO, 1964) proves how even in his 80s Stokowski had absolute command of larger forms, a claim that applies in spades to the ‘bonus’ disc of a 1970 concert with the Netherlands Radio Philharmonic Orchestra, where a volatile account of Franck’s D minor Symphony, which I’ve learned to love over the years – sample the dramatic finale – is coupled with Prokofiev’s cantata Alexander Nevsky (with the Netherlands Radio Choir and a warmly expressive mezzo-soprano in Sophia van Sante), a performance that raises the roof as spontaneously as any I have heard.

This is a wonderful set. True, there are numerous stereo studio recordings by Stokowski – on Decca Phase Four, Capitol, Warner Classics, Everest and other labels – but there can be little doubt that this most charismatic of rostrum communicators worked added wonders in front of an audience. Sadly, there are no booklet notes, but all works programmed are easy to research online, as is Stokowski himself, the most publicity-savvy of classical musicians. Paul Baily’s new remasterings could hardly be bettered.

This feature originally appeared in the July 2024 issue of Gramophone. Never miss an issue of the world's leading classical music magazine – subscribe to Gramophone today