You would need to be either congenitally insensitive or politically desensitised not to appreciate the symbolic significance of an Israel Symphony emerging out of present-day Russia. The gesture had its approximate parallel back in 1967, when DG released their first Schelomo, replete with rabbi and menorah (seven-armed candelabrum) on the original LP sleeve. That performance remains one of the loveliest in the catalogue, swifter by some three minutes than this finely detailed but rather laboured account under Svetlanov. Alexander Kniazev often plays beautifully (note his rapt pianissimo statement of the principal motif at 16'49'') but his tone lacks variety and the orchestral tuttis, though fairly imposing in their breadth and dignity, lack tension.
Indeed, my main quibble with the entire programme is that Svetlanov's tempos are, in general, far too slow. 'Nigun' hangs around for nearly nine minutes (the average is seven-and-a-half) while Schelomo clocks up nearly 25. Stakevitch's somewhat overwrought orchestration of 'Nigun' (the middle movement of the Baal Shem Suite) has a lone trumpet declaim the solo line - or most of it - rather in the manner of a High Holy Day Shofar (ram's horn). Although the switch from a solo violin tends to temper the emotional impact of Bloch's original, the prayer-like middle section (announced here by a tam-tam) effectively suggests a mournful reveille. Again, the performance rather hangs fire.
Israel (1912-16) is one of three works that celebrate the composer's three homelands, the others being America and Helvetia. It also forms part of Bloch's so-called 'Jewish Cycle' and as such connects thematically to Schelomo. More a tone-poem than a true symphony, Israel is cast in three sections: 'Prayer in the Desert', 'Yom Kippur' (the work's unexpectedly dramatic centrepiece) and a seraphic 'Succoth' (the Jewish Harvest Festival). Bloch's use of a female chorus (in 'Succoth') recalls the Debussy of 'Fetes' and the Ravel of Daphnis as well as certain elements in Scriabin. The overall style is securely cinematic, with a plethora of attractive themes, primary-coloured orchestration and bags of atmosphere. It is 'musically' Jewish only in the sense that, say, Korngold is Jewish. There's nothing of the ethnic tang of, for example, Bartok or Enescu about it, just heartfelt musical narrative composed in an orchestral style that is very much of its time.
A fitfully available Utah Symphony coupling of Israel and Schelomo under Maurice Abravanel (Vanguard 08.4047.71) featured superior cello playing from Zara Nelsova (her third Schelomo on disc) and more vigorous orchestral playing. The current programme is enjoyable but heavy-handed, not quite what is needed for music that is already bedecked with lavish orchestral textures. The recorded sound enjoys well-judged perspectives.'