Yet another new recording of Mussorgsky's Pictures at an Exhibition, and an enjoyable one, richly and spectacularly recorded in the Jesus-Christus Kirche, Berlin. But it makes one wonder what the record companies hope to gain from all these duplications of repertoire already so well served in the catalogue. Why not let us have something completely different? I am indebted to Edward Johnson who has sent me a list of possibilities. Lyrita have already stepped in and recorded Sir Henry Wood's version, and I look forward to hearing that in due course. But there are available orchestrations by Mikhail Tushmalov (a pupil of Rimsky-Korsakov), Sir Granville Bantock, and Walter Goehr, to name three among some 16 in total, including those we already know, like Stokowski's and Ashkenazy's. Leonard Slatkin has recently been conducting a composite version embracing what he thinks are the most telling orchestrations from the many available. Interestingly he sticks to Ravel for the last two climactic numbers, but he begins with the ''Promenade'' from what is perhaps the most promising of all, a version by Lawrence Leonard which retains the piano part, so the work becomes a concertante piece for piano and orchestra, in fact almost a concerto. Like the Walter Goehr arrangement (for a medium-sized orchestra plus piano and organ), it is published by Boosey and Hawkes, so let us hope someone is enterprising enough to record it.
Giulini made his own orchestration while still a student but claims to have torn it up when he saw the Ravel score. His performance here is superbly played and has a pervading feeling of nostalgia from the very opening where the full brass sounds are appropriately mellow. ''The Old Castle'' is a very delicate portrayal, with lovely sotto voce strings, and while ''Bydlo'' has plenty of juggernaut forcefulness and the ''Unhatched Chicks'' cheep merrily, one feels Giulini rather sympathizes with the two Polish Jews, with both the gruff strings and wheedling trumpet more sympathetic than usual, even though the characterization remains strong. The brass entry of ''The Catacombs'' is powerfully solemn and ''Baba Yaga'' is heavy and full of menace, the middle section is given subtle rhythmic pointing and sounds imaginatively bizarre. The finale is taken majestically, with gloriously full brass and the tam-tam resounding splendidly at the climax. The playing of the Berlin Philharmonic is superb throughout, with the tuba noticeably eloquent or nimble, whenever he is in the limelight.
Turning to Giulini's coupled Firebird Suite, recorded rather mistily in the Concertgebouw (not an auditorium expressly designed for Stravinsky), there is plenty of atmosphere, but the performance fails to generate enough of the spirit of the dance to be wholly convincing. The gentler music has agreeable warmth of colour and ''Kashchei'' does not lack venom, but overall this performance is not memorable, except that the finale is one of the weightiest versions on record. Muti's EMI performances of both this ballet suite and the Mussorgsky Pictures represents one of the finest of his recordings, with Philadelphia playing of great virtuosity and excitement, the music coming over in vivid primary colours, helped by the forward balance of the recording. But for a modern digital version of the Pictures alone, I still recommend Kaspszyk at full price on Collins Classics or the excellent bargain-price RCA alternative from Mata, sumptuously recorded in the fine Dallas hall.'