The remote community of Novosibirsk might seem an unlikely setting for a thriving cultural life but the Russian-Soviet tradition of internal exile has kept Siberia well supplied with artists and audiences. From 1941 until 1944, the Leningrad Philharmonic was evacuated to the city and Novosibirsk's own orchestra was founded in the 1950s. The band has always been closely associated with the conductor Arnold Kaz, and these Rachmaninov Symphonic Dances demonstrate the strengths of their long-established partnership. The orchestral sound is light and translucent, not without some rough edges but generally pleasing: the engineers tend to mix down the locally accented brass in favour of piquant woodwind detail or jumbo-sized violin solos.
The first dance, rhythmically alert at the start, proceeds by way of a reedy saxophone solo which may offend some occidental sensibilities (the close recording also makes the key clicks very audible). On the other hand, Kaz eschews the portamento-laden sentimentality of some recent Western accounts and Rachmaninov is much the better for it. In the macabre waltz movement, the conductor takes the sensible view that a degree of rubato is de rigueur even if you don't always agree with his expressive distortions. The finale opens with considerable flair, though it can all seem a shade lightweight after Jansons (at premium price), Previn (in a competitively priced three-disc set) and especially Ashkenazy (at mid price). The quieter middle section is sensitively handled and despite some quixotic balances later on, a defiantly Asiatic Dies irae is permitted to blaze across the sound-stage. Like many conductors, Kaz doesn't seem quite sure what to do with Rachmaninov's unexpected reprise of the Orthodox chant, Blagosloven esi, Gospodi, ploughing on at more or less the same tempo without finding the additional adrenalin for the final bars. The concluding gong stroke, taken literally as a dotted crotchet, is allowed to resound just long enough for it to sound silly.
The rest of the disc has rather less appeal. Nelli Lee's self-indulgent style and intrusive vibrato do not do much for the Vocalise, and the enterprising Stravinsky coupling is difficult to assess. The orchestra's strings make a good showing, and yet they also put an unidiomatic sheen on the surface. Even if Kaz's approach is not uniformly heavy, the music seems to come off best where it eschews the smart allusions and approaches the mixed motoric-cum-fairy-tale mode of the Prokofiev ballets. No doubt there are listeners for whom Stravinsky remains Slav in tooth and claw however deracinated his mode of address. They may find the out-of-tune timps difficult to live with but should otherwise enjoy this unexpected programme.'