It’s that time of the year again‚ when a major American orchestra releases an archive trawl of recorded gems that most of us never even dreamed existed. Last year it was Chicago and New York; this year it’s Boston’s turn. Sturdy‚ well planned‚ very well filled and exhaustively annotated‚ the Boston Symphony Orchestra’s ‘Symphony Hall Centennial Celebration’ marks the BSO’s Centenary last year with a dazzling compendium of previously unissued material‚ much of it unique to the discographies of the various conductors represented. The period covered is 1943­2000. Just over half the collection centres on the orchestra’s successive music directors‚ starting with Pierre Monteux (though his recordings are far from the earliest) and closing the last century with Seiji Ozawa. The second half is shared between principal guest conductors‚ guest conductors‚ ‘encores’ and a couple of rehearsal fragments. Hearing Serge Koussevitzky urge his ‘Kinder’ (children) to tighten ensemble in Vaughan Williams’s Sixth Symphony or Leonard Bernstein describe Messiaen’s musical landscape for the world première of the Turangalîla­symphonie is fascinating‚ though it’s Bernstein who offers the more obviously staged radio rehearsal. The orchestra’s sound is unmistakable‚ no matter who’s conducting. The strings are well drilled and tonally homogenous‚ the French­sounding woodwinds delicately expressive‚ the brass blend like organ pipes and the percussion is spot­on in terms of rhythmic attack‚ invariably with vividly reported cymbals and triangle. Volume 1 opens with the same première broadcast recording of Bartók’s Concerto for Orchestra under Koussevitzky that Naxos has already released in a markedly inferior transfer. Minor miscalculations occasionally scuff the musical surface but‚ viewed as a whole‚ the performance is solid‚ energetic (you occasionally hear Koussevitzky stamping the beat) and flooded with colour. Liadov’s atmospheric symphonic picture From the Apocalypse suffers from shallow sound‚ though the music’s epic dimension is impressively conveyed. Likewise‚ Koussevitzky’s première broadcast of Bernstein’s The Age of Anxiety Symphony works best where the musical paragraphs are broadest‚ as in the closing section where in the original score (played here) the piano is mostly silent. Some of the dialogue between piano and orchestra really burns‚ though ‘The Masque’ is more than a bit splashy. Lukas Foss is rather more accurate on the composer’s contemporaneous first commercial recording‚ and yet Bernstein’s fingers roll off the keys in what sounds like a spontaneous rhapsody. Koussevitzky’s measured Ruslan and Lyudmila Overture (on the encores CD) sounds crumbly but makes a great play for the lower strings‚ pizzicatos especially. Though Monteux’s directorship of the BSO pre­dated Koussevitzky’s‚ his Celebration selection hails from the late ’50s and early ’60s. Don Quixote (1959‚ stereo) is quick­witted and transparent‚ with a warm­hearted Dulcinea and razor­sharp interjections from brass and timps. Note the clarity of the accompanying strings in ‘The battle with the sheep’‚ and the poignant‚ remarkably affecting understatement of the ‘Death of Don Quixote’. Section leaders Samuel Mayes (cello) and Joseph de Pasquale (viola) upstage many a stellar rival and the dry sound is strong on impact‚ especially from the percussion. Monteux’s Vaughan Williams Tallis Fantasia‚ at 12'49"‚ must be among the fastest ever recorded. It’s seamless and with clear‚ though unexaggerated‚ textural contrasts. The handsome New England string band had me thinking of the slow movement of Ives’ Fourth Symphony but the urgency of Monteux’s conception never precludes nobility. A lusty but likeable Rosenkavalier Suite sits at the centre of his programme. Some of the Charles Munch material appeared briefly on Music & Arts‚ including a hot­rod Franck Le chasseur maudit. Roussel’s Suite in F sounds like a diminutive version of the Third Symphony. The 1959 stereo tape emanates from mixed FM and AM sources (one for each stereo channel) and the performance has genuine depth. Both La mer and La valse add extra quotas of flexibility and impulsiveness to Munch’s already dramatic studio­recorded alternatives‚ La mer with shifting weathers and tempos‚ La valse with feisty high spirits. Both date from 1962‚ whereas Fauré’s Wagnerian Pénélope Prélude‚ another warmly moulded performance and sounding far better than it did on M&A‚ was again taped in 1959. On the encore CD Munch makes spicy fast food of Auber’s Suppé­like overture La muette de Portici and the Scherzo and ‘March’ from Prokofiev’s The Love for Three Oranges. After Munch‚ Erich Leinsdorf marked something of a cooling process for the orchestra‚ though the chamber­like textures of the Suite from Janá¶ek’s The Cunning Little Vixen (Talich’s compilation)‚ so quirky yet so refined‚ accommodate countless distinguished instrumental solos. A 1964 relay of Shostakovich’s Symphony No 1 drives hard and just occasionally slips out of focus‚ Wagner’s Siegfried Idyll enjoys a memorably touching coda and Smetana’s ‘Vltava’ is well­built but ultimately a bit dull. The best Leinsdorf item by far is the hilarious but smartly dressed Die Mozartisten waltz sequence by Lanner that turns up on the encores disc. Volume 3 opens to Bruckner’s Symphony No 8 under William Steinberg – his own version of Nowak – with a wrought iron Scherzo and a warmly drawn trio. Collectors familiar with Steinberg’s commercial discs of Symphonies Nos 4‚ 6‚ and 7 will recognise a tempered individualism where carefully nurtured detail helps underline Bruckner’s already strongly delineated structure. Beyond Bruckner come the principal guest conductors‚ initially Sir Colin Davis fuelling each eruptive surge in Vaughan Williams’s Fourth Symphony – a bold account of the piece‚ cogent and thoroughly universalised‚ brilliant in the Scherzo and uncompromisingly aggressive at the close of the finale. There’s real tension here‚ as well as sensitivity to the uneasy calm of the score’s few quieter moments. Davis’s Berlioz ‘Royal Hunt and Storm’ (on the encore CD)‚ though generally well played‚ isn’t quite the equal of others I’ve heard him conduct. Bernard Haitink has a firm hold on Schubert’s Third Symphony‚ keeping the mood light and tracing the Menuetto’s trio with typical flair‚ though elsewhere some of the string ensemble is a mite untidy. Haitink’s Holst ‘Jupiter’ (encore CD) is precise and imaginatively phrased. Michael Tilson Thomas wields an authoritatively balletic baton for Prokofiev’s potentially explosive Scythian Suite: buoyant in the opening‚ cheeky at the start of the finale and characteristically elegant elsewhere. The whole of Volume 4 is devoted to Seiji Ozawa‚ who is probably at his best in Messiaen’s Trois petites liturgies de la Présence Divine‚ its textures and rhythms gauged with the keenest of ears. Ozawa turns in thoughtfully considered readings of Stravinsky’s Symphony of Psalms (with craftsman­like ‘Alleluias’ to close)‚ Strauss’s amiable Duet­Concertino (Harold Wright on clarinet‚ Sherman Walt on bassoon) and Frank Martin’s rarely heard Concerto for Seven Wind Instruments‚ plus timpani‚ percussion and strings. The balancing and voicing are always carefully judged‚ but I thought the 1980 account of Bartók’s Bluebeard’s Castle too detached. Yvonne Minton’s Judith is frequently well sung but never really settles to a believable character‚ and Ozawa’s handling of the various ‘doors’ is surely too urbane. Only Gwynne Howell‚ a consistently warm­voiced Bluebeard‚ offers us anything out of the ordinary‚ but his contribution is hardly enough to swing the balance of recommendation in Ozawa’s favour. A sonorous and sensibly paced Berlioz Roman Carnival Overture under Ozawa opens the encore disc. Of the remaining guest conductors‚ Thomas Schippers cues a dramatic and full­bodied Forza Overture and Igor Markevitch a characteristically excitable Tchaikovsky Romeo and Juliet (with a love theme that’s phrased very like Mengelberg’s). I’ve rarely heard the opening of Respighi’s Pines of Rome sound as rhythmically driven as it does under Guido Cantelli in 1954‚ though the fast­lane ‘Pines of the Appian Way’ is fairly close in concept to Toscanini’s. Carlo Maria Giulini inspires some rapturous string playing for Hindemith’s Mathis der Maler Symphony and Stokowski concocts his own unexpected ending for Mozart’s Don Giovanni Overture‚ based on material from elsewhere in the opera. But if you’re familiar with Stokowski’s famous Everest recording of Tchaikovsky’s Hamlet‚ you’ll barely recognise his interpretation from this 1968 Boston performance‚ which differs from its predecessor in virtually every musical respect – texture‚ tempo relations‚ phrasing‚ even some of the scoring (especially in relation to the timpani). But it’s stunningly exciting. By contrast‚ those who know Rafael Kubelík’s recently reissued mono Philharmonia recording of Martin²’s Double Concerto will thrill to the same fiery interpretation on his 1967 Boston broadcast‚ which is similarly forceful‚ especially in the opening movement‚ and infinitely better recorded. Dimitri Mitropoulos makes the best possible case for Morton Gould’s Spirituals (the opening ‘Proclamation’ is really superb)‚ and Klaus Tennstedt conducts a brisk if ultimately unmemorable Academic Festival Overture. Bruno Walter’s proto­Solti Haydn (the Oxford) snaps rather than sparkles‚ though the Beethovenian Adagio strikes a deeper chord. Copland directs a dedicated account of his then­recent Music for a Great City‚ and associate conductor Richard Burgin courts routine for Stravinsky’s Divertimento from The Fairy’s Kiss‚ the one inclusion I personally wouldn’t have bothered with. But that’s to nit­pick. The standard of transfers (most recordings were actually made at Symphony Hall)‚ the quality of the documentation and presentation‚ the imaginative programming – all are fully up to the high standards already achieved by previous historic American orchestra collections from New York‚ Philadelphia‚ Cleveland and Chicago. And while you won’t necessarily want to revisit every item programmed‚ the ratio of memorable performances is extremely high. All in all‚ a most valuable‚ and musically nourishing‚ collection.