The Polish Radio Chamber Orchestra will afford a listener intense pleasure in the quality of their string playing. Whether it is a matter of the successful solution of problems of technique, of tone quality, of range of volume, of intonation, of balance, of sensitive phrasing, or of any other relevant skills, the players cannot conceivably be faulted. But in this performance of the Tchaikovsky there remains a problem: it is whether all this skill is put to the best purpose.
In general terms most readers will agree that Tchaikovsky knew his business: not only are his notes right (for the music concerned), but so are (usually!) his dynamics, his phrasing, his tempo indications. But here all these are in turn ignored, contradicted even, by the conductor: the players must have coped with one of the most pencilled-over sets of parts in Europe. And cope marvellously they do; no case can be made for disapproval of the sumptuous sound which results. Nor is it in any way an unmusical sound. Except in one material respect: the sound is not that clearly (looking at his score) intended by Tchaikovsky. Of course composers' scores are only architects' working plans, not the building itself; many details of performance must be left to the players' or the conductor's informed and instinctive judgement. But here it is reasonable to think that things go much too far.
Nevertheless, if it is just marvellous string playing you want, here you will certainly find it. If, though, it is Tchaikovsky's music you want, then consider either of the alternatives listed above. Both are well recorded, perharps a notch more strongly and clearly than the new record; and if my own choice would be for the Stockholm orchestra (BIS), that would largely be on account of the greater cohesion of string tone afforded by the rather larger numbers (the ear suggests) it used compared with the Ferenc Liszt Chamber Orchestra (Hungaroton), in a piece which really calls for pretty substantial numbers anyway.
Both those older versions have the Dvorak E major Serenade for backing, and few will quarrel with that. Unless, of course, they already own a version of the Dvorak; in which case they could very well enjoy greatly the Suk Serenade, chosen for the backing of the new record. Here the Polish players seem to have fewer pencil alterations: Suk's gentle music flows on undisturbed. And again, of course, it is most beautifully played. Suk's music suggests, anyway, great sympathy with that of Dvorak (his teacher as well as—later—his father-in-law); and few who enjoy Dvorak's music will, I think find Suk's Serenade a disappointment.'