Before settling into a career as a brilliant conductor, Oskar Fried (1871–1941) tried his hand at painting, composing, dog training and clowning in a circus. His musical mentors included Humperdinck and Mahler, and after a period when he held various appointments in Germany he concentrated on guest conducting throughout Europe and the USA. When the Nazis came to power he went to Russia, where he spent the rest of his days. His recording career lasted less than a decade from about 1923 onwards. Ironically his most significant work on records was achieved during the last years of the acoustic process, and he had a rare gift for bringing the best out of that difficult medium. His pre-electric Polydor recordings of Mahler's Second Symphony (made relatively familiar by Pearl's LP and CD reissues), Strauss's Eine Alpensinfonie, Beethoven's Eroica Symphony and Brahms's First are all superlative artistically. He also made acoustic versions of Bruckner's Seventh Symphony, Berlioz's Symphonie fantastique and other works, none of which I have heard.
When electric recording arrived all the above recordings were immediately made obsolete, and all are very scarce in their original form. The new medium also encouraged more conductors to make records for Polydor, and Fried's slice of the cake became less—in fact, his only really important electric Polydor issue was of Beethoven's Ninth (now available on Pearl (CD) GEMMCD9372), though he also recorded Tchaikovsky's Pathetique for English Columbia.
I have indulged in this long preamble in order to make the suggestion that Koch's new disc does not show Fried in the most significant light. He conducts Les preludes with typical fire, poetry and flair, and a slightly cut Firebird suite (which he also recorded acoustically) is full of colour and vitality. But I don't think that he was more than intermittently engaged by the challenge of Scheherazade. Untypically he makes little changes and cuts in the score, and though the conducting is always above routine level it doesn't have the magnetism and power which are present in Fried's best recordings. There are intimations of special qualities in the last movement, but no more than that (The violin soloist is not named, but he was probably Henry Holst, leader of the BPO between 1923 and 1931.)
As is always the case with early electric Polydor orchestral recordings, there is a slightly dry quality in the sound. Ward Marston has done well to mitigate this characteristic, and his transfers are as usual first class.'