Two transfers of the 1937 account of Sibelius’s Fourth Symphony, one on EMI, the other on Koch Legacy. Both are very good indeed, though in a comparison the EMI version has the advantage of the smoother, more rounded sound, and slightly firmer body. Either is a great improvement on my 78rpm discs (they had been acquired second-hand and, horror of horrors, had been played with steel needles!) or, for that matter, the LP transfer that A. C. Griffith made in the 1970s for World Records (9/70—nla).
No need in this day and age to dwell on the merits of the performance. While in Helsinki some years ago, I recall seeing an exchange between Beecham and Sibelius which alluded to the existence of an earlier set of discs. I hastily jumped to the conclusion that these must have been of Schneevoigt’s 1934 version, which Sibelius did not pass for release and which eventually appeared in the 1970s. However, it transpired that it was an earlier set of takes by Beecham. So we can assume that this reading comes very close indeed to Sibelius’s wishes—and that should largely take care of the argument about the glockenspiel and the tubular bells in the finale. (According to Walter Legge a set of miniature bells was specially constructed that was more powerful than the glockenspiel, possibly to ensure the bells’ audibility on 78s.) In any event the performance has an enormous concentration and power; it is totally uncompromising, and in both its poetic feeling and dramatic tension remains unequalled to this day.
Good though the Koch transfer is—and it is very good indeed—the EMI scores in offering us two important recordings that have not been in circulation for over 40 years: the celebrated 1947 account of the Sixth Symphony and the 1938 version of the Prelude to The Tempest. Despite frequent rumours that it was to be issued on LP, the Sixth never appeared—at least not in this country. It was said at the time to be Sibelius’s favourite recording of any of his symphonies, a fact which Mrs Eva Paloheimo, the composer’s eldest daughter, confirmed in conversation in late 1959. It is indeed a performance of eloquence and powerful atmosphere, Beecham judges the tempo and mood of both the middle movements perfectly, far more so than did Schneevoigt in his 1934 performance (Finlandia, 2/92), and only in the C major section of the first movement does he seem fractionally hurried—to my ear at least.
The Prelude to The Tempest is quite terrifying one feels completely drenched after exposure to it. Beecham’s later 1955 version of The Tempest music (EMI, 7/90) comprised the two suites but omitted the Prelude. There has never been a more exciting account of “Lemminkainen’s return”, in which the steed gallops hell-for-leather to the crack of the whip through the cold northlands and his reflective account of The bard is also worth having. Koch also include The bard and “Lemminkainen’s return” and differ in offering Beecham’s powerful account of In memoriam, his 1939 En saga, good but all the same not one of his greatest Sibelius performances, and his 1938 “Valse triste”. However, the EMI disc enjoys a slight price advantage.
Beecham’s Fourth is an indispensable part of any self-respecting Sibelius collection and together with the Sixth Symphony and The Tempest Prelude deserves the warmest welcome after so long an absence. Recommended with all possible enthusiasm.'