The Scandinavian selection brings together two unsung stalwarts of British musical life from earlier this century. After a spell during the war as Assistant Conductor of the RAF Symphony Orchestra, John Hollingsworth (1916-63) joined the staff of the Royal Ballet, and from 1949 he was appointed an Associate Conductor of the Proms (where his clear-sighted professionalism was a great boon in introducing much new music). These 1955 Parlophone recordings with the Covent Garden orchestra are eminently stylish and sensitive. Svendsen’s captivating Carnival in Paris fares best – a truly invigorating, affectionate display, this. Both Alfven items also come off well: if not as exuberant as some, Midsummer Vigil is pointed with a stylish wit to remind one of Hollingsworth’s formidable balletic credentials. Elsewhere, there’s plenty of atmosphere generated at the start of, say, “Borghild’s Dream” from Grieg’s Sigurd Jorsalfar suite, and Sibelius’s Romance in C receives lovingly spacious treatment.
On the whole, though, I detect conducting of altogether stronger Sibelian instinct in the four items under Basil Cameron (1884-1975). Both the “Intermezzo” and “Alla marcia” from the Karelia Suite are shaped with easy familiarity (and the LPO respond with enthusiasm). I also liked Cameron’s gently perceptive Valse triste and tangily characterful “Musette” from the King Christian II suite. Cameron learnt his craft directing municipal bands at Torquay, Hastings and Harrogate. After spells in San Francisco (where he gave the world premiere of Bax’s Fourth Symphony in 1932) and Seattle, Cameron took up the post of Associate Conductor to Wood at the Proms in 1940. He retired at the age of 80 in 1964. In the booklet, Lyndon Jenkins mentions recordings by Cameron of Sibelius’s Second Symphony and Tapiola, which I would now very much like to hear. (Perhaps Mike Dutton himself will oblige.)
As for the two remaining compilations, well, I find Gaston Poulet and the LSO worthy but unremarkable in Ravel. Anatole Fistoulari draws a perkier response from the same band in a sparkling, wholehearted account of the ballet suite from Les biches by Poulenc. The latter’s Aubade and Debussy’s Fantaisie also feature Fistoulari, this time at the helm of the RPO (dubbed “Westminster Symphony Orchestra” on the original Parlophone releases, presumably for contractual reasons). Fabienne Jacquinot is the more-than-able soloist here and her nimble-fingered contribution in the Debussy is especially pleasing. Indeed, this really is a most appealing interpretation: I found myself warming to its softly-spoken, tenderly unassuming manner. By contrast, the darker undercurrents of the Aubade are left largely untapped, for all the infectious, almost manic glee brought to bear in any faster music.
Poulet and the LSO crop up again on the Spanish concert and they bring to Albeniz’s Iberia a boisterous ebullience that works effectively enough – though readers familiar with, say, Reiner’s riveting Chicago realizations of “Triana” and “El Corpus en Sevilla” (Nos. 3 and 6) on a marvellous Living Stereo compilation entitled “Spain” will undoubtedly crave greater swagger and heady sensuousness. However, Poulet’s “Intermezzo” from Goyescas is a decidedly humdrum, unseductive affair, and his “Intermezzo and Dance” from La vida breve similarly fails to rise much above the routine. However, I very much enjoyed acquainting myself with Turina’s 1913 tone-poem, La procesion del Rocio (in a sprightly performance too), whereas the same figure’s more familiar Danzas fantasticas and three of Granados’s Danzas espanolas sound disconcertingly leaden in the hands of Wilhelm Schuchter and a characteristically polished Philharmonia.
These expert transfers of material from 1953-5 boast barely any background noise, though on the Scandinavian album string timbre can occasionally sound peculiarly ‘out of phase’ at lower dynamic levels (try the beginning of “Borghild’s Dream” from Sigurd Jorsalfar). Nostalgic collectors will enjoy themselves here and the price is right too.'