In 1909 Diaghilev heard Stravinsky's early Fireworks at a St Petersburg concert, and immediately marked down the composer in his mental notebook. The great impresario had uncanny judgement in perceiving genuine inventive brilliance, as distinct from superficial surface daring, in music of the avant-garde; his judgement was never more acute than in anticipating Stravinsky's special kind of genius. Later as Tamara Karsavina—the dancer who created the role of the Firebird—watched the young composer enter the orchestral pit, Diaghilev said to her with characteristic prescience: ''Mark him well. He is a man on the eve of celebrity''. It is thus appropriate that Wilma Cozart Fine should have chosen Dorati's 1964 recording of Fireworks to act as a CD curtain raiser: it readily demonstrates the composer's very individual feeling for the orchestral palette, with its dazzling Rimsky-Korsakovian inheritance, his rhythmic quirkiness, and the sheer originality of his musical progressions.
The recording, too, in its glittering kaleidoscope of colours, absolutely clear focus and natural atmospheric feeling, is a worthy successor for the supreme excellence of The Firebird, also recorded in Watford Town Hall, five years earlier, on June 7th, 1959. It is quite impossible for the ear to guess its early date, for it remains one of the truly great achievements in the history of recorded sound. C. Robert Fine placed his three microphones with unerring judgement, and as one listens to the miraculously perfect CD transfer, the whole orchestra is laid out between (yet recessed behind) the speakers, within a natural ambience. Virtually every instrument is 'visually' placeable in the overall spectrum. The balance simply couldn't be improved on, and the illusion of realism is very remarkable. Fortunately, Dorati's performance is worthy of the aural excellence: it is perhaps his very finest record, and the LSO play with marvellous sensitivity and a glowing preciseness of detail which continually fascinates the ear. The long opening section of the score is magnetically projected; every moment, every flash of colour intrigues the imagination, and with the intensity of the playing comes contrasting moods of warmth, sentience and languor. When the set pieces arrive—which are so familiar from the suite—they are often ushered in with great delicacy. The CD documentation uses the 22 separate bands to tell the story most appealingly in a whimsically picturesque fairy-tale style, and at the same time relates the narrative to the music. There are many moments of sheer magic in the playing. The dark, growling opening is full of atmosphere (one would usually want to programme the CD to begin here, rather than with Fireworks) and in the ''Entry and Dance of the Firebird'' (tracks 4 and 5) the exquisite sharpness of profile of the orchestral delineation is ear-tickling. Moods are ever flexible, and a tender violin solo describes how Prince Ivan captures the Firebird and compassionately releases her (track 6); then Dorati finds a sense of almost Ravelian ecstasy at the ''Supplication of the Firebird'' (track 7), leading to lusciously translucent textures at the ''Appearance of the 13 enchanted maidens'' (track 8). The ''Sudden appearance of Prince Ivan'' (track 10) brings a memorable, very Russian horn solo (remember it is the horn which introduces the gorgeous celebration of the prince's marriage at the end of the ballet).
The ''Lullaby'' (track 20) is another example of the ravishing atmospheric beauty of the playing and Dorati's subtly sensitive control of the music's onward flow. After the thrilling close of the ballet, with the general rejoicing conveyed with much exhilaration and power (the LSO brass is superb), we move on to a couple of bonnes bouches, the delicious sardonic Tango (scored for five clarinets, four trumpets, three trombones, guitar, three violins, viola, cello and double bass), and the comparably bizarre Scherzo a la Russe. Then comes another major work, the symphonic poem Le chant de rossignol, with its masterly juxtaposition of grotesque Chinoiserie, and melancholic observance of human frailty. Again Dorati and the Mercury recording team are in their element (Harold Lawrence was the producer and Robert Eberenz the chief engineer for the 1964 sessions) and the performance and recording satisfyingly demonstrate the work's richly phantasmagorical tapestry and its depth of elegiac feeling. Whether you are a Stravinskian, or an admirer of splendid and spectacular recorded sound, this is a CD not to be missed, especially at mid-price.'