23.12.10

Bernstein plays Gershwin


We all know that Leonard Bernstein was a great conductor, possibly the greatest of the American born conductors of the twentieth century. It was wonderful to learn that Bernstein was always an excellent pianist. On occasion, Bernstein would conduct the orchestra AND play the piano, too. In the early days of stereo LPs, Columbia Records released Bernstein's recording of two masterpieces by George Gershwin: "An American in Paris" and "Rhapsody in Blue." For some reason, the album featured two DIFFERENT orchestra: the New York Philharmonic in "An American in Paris" and the Columbia Symphony in "Rhapsody in Blue."

While it is obvious that the New York Philharmonic was an established orchestra, actually the oldest symphonic orchestra in the country (founded in 1842, the same year that the Vienna Philharmonic was started), many people have wondered what was the Columbia Symphony Orchestra. There is a simple answer. Columbia Records, the oldest recording company in America, sometimes wanted to make recordings with a "house" orchestra and it was apparently cheaper and easier to simply contract New York musicians and put together an ensemble of musicians. They usually recorded in Columbia's 30th Street Studios. This practice went back to at least 1949, when Sir Thomas Beecham visited New York and made a series of high fidelity recordings in Columbia's studios, which were released on both 78-rpm and 33-1/3 rpm discs. Sometimes, however, the Columbia Symphony Orchestra was also drawn from Los Angeles musicians, as was the case with some of the late recordings made for Columbia by Bruno Walter, who lived in Beverly Hills. Igor Stravinsky made a number of recordings with the Columbia Symphony as well; it isn't always clear as to where the recordings were made since Stravinsky also lived in Beverly Hills for many years.

Anyway, Bernstein recorded the "Rhapsody" with the Columbia Symphony's New York musicians, possibly including some members of his own New York Philharmonic, in 1959. The sessions took place in the 30th Street Studios. For some reason, Bernstein made some minor cuts in the music, most likely in the slow solo section. It was still better than Gershwin's own abridged recordings in 1924 (acoustical) and 1927 (electric) for Victor with the Paul Whiteman Orchestra. If you compare what we have of Gershwin playing and with Bernstein's own performance, the results are quite similar. Bernstein was a very gifted pianist, who had classical training as well as an appreciation and affinity for jazz and blues. Although Bernstein both played and conducted, he was able to keep the orchestra together and they worked extremely well with him. Musicians generally admired Bernstein and enjoyed working with him, as is clearly apparent from this performance. This is, of course, Ferde Grofe's orchestral version since Gershwin did not orchestrate the score. (Gershwin did not begin orchestrating his music until the following year when he wrote his "Concerto in F.") Grofe may have taken suggestions from Gershwin about the instrumentation, especially the famous opening clarinet solo, which is exceptionally well played here. There is an excitement and emotion throughout the performance, making it still one of the best recorded versions.

In "An American in Paris," Gershwin functioned strictly as conductor with the New York Philharmonic. He was able to achieve a performance that captured all of the different moods in this piece, which was inspired by Gershwin's visit to Paris in 1928, where he met Maurice Ravel and Igor Stravinsky, among others. He was able to utilize the French atmosphere of the city and add jazz and blues elements since it was basically an American's impressions of an exciting cultural city. It was the epitome of the appreciation Americans felt for Paris between the two world wars. It was a major achievement and Bernstein's performance has always been cited as one of the best versions of the music because he succeeded in balancing the jazz and symphonic elements of the work. Few conductors had been so successful in doing this. In many ways, Bernstein's recording has set the standard. It benefited, too, from excellent recording technology and was an early example of the virtues of stereophonic sound.

These recordings have been continually available in various versions, first released by Columbia Records and then by Sony, which acquired Columbia some years ago. They are well worth having in any collection, especially for those who love Gershwin and Bernstein.--Robert E. Nylund Shop here

Gershwin Greatest Hits


What a shame that George Gershwin died at such a young age. In his twenties, he wrote RHAPSODY IN BLUE, a perfect blend of jazz and classical music. In his thirties, who wrote PORGY AND BESS, something between an opera and a musical. If he had lived into his forties, who knows? He may have further helped Western Music to reconcile the differences between popular music and "art" music!

Arthur Fiedler, the Boston Pops, and the piano soloists are a perfect match for this music, some of Gershwin's finest. They all infuse an energy, a grace, and a playfulness that give the music such exuberance. In my opinion, the best tracks are RHAPSODY IN BLUE, which rhythmically rocks and sonorously sparkles under Fiedler's baton, and "The Man I Love," which shows that a tune can be a torch song even without a singer.

All the other tracks are fabulous as well, although it is disappointing that the first movement of the CONCERTO IN F is missing. Some people find the honking horns in AN AMERICAN IN PARIS a little bit annoying.

When I'm feeling tired or sad, playing this CD is a sure-fire way to lift my spirits!--burghtenor Shop here

3.12.10

An American in Paris

George Gershwin (1898-1937)



Gershwin’s An American in Paris was commissioned by Walter Damrosch, who also conducted the world premiere in Carnegie Hall. The date was December 13, 1928, and the orchestra was the newly amalgamated Philharmonic-Symphony Society of New York, to use its full, official title.


For this premiere, George Gershwin’s friend Deems Taylor wrote, in collaboration with Gershwin, a description which reads, in part, as follows:


While Mr.Gershwin has been heard to hope-and probably not in vain-that his new work can be absorbed and enjoyed as a piece of orchestral music, he admits that An American in Paris (which, oddly enough, was largely written in Paris) follows a fairly explicit story. What follows is based upon Mr.Gershwin’s own version of the succession of events, augmented by a few details supplied by the helpful commentator and—as yet—unrepudiated by the composer.


You are to imagine, then, an American visiting Paris, swinging down the Champs Elysees on a mild, sunny morning in May or June…Our American’s ears being open, as well as his eyes, he notes with pleasure the sounds of the city. French taxicabs seem to amuse him particularly, a fact that the orchestra points out in brief episodes introducing four real Paris taxi horns (imported at great expense for the occasion). Thes have a special theme allotted to them (the driver, possibly), which is announced by the strings whenever they appear in the score.


Having safely eluded the taxis, our American apparently passes the open door of a café where, if one is to believe the trombones, “La Maxixe” is still popular….. The American’s itinerary becomes somewhat obscured. It may be that he continues down the Champs Elysees; it may be that he has turned off—the composer retains an open mind on the subject…. Indeed, the end of this section of the work is couched in terms so unmistakably, albeit pleasantly, blurred, as to suggest that the American is one the Terrasee of a café exploring the mysteries of an Anise de Lozo


An now the orchestra introduces an unhallowed episode. Suffice it to say that a solo violin approaches our hero (in the soprano register) and addresses him in the most charming broken English, and his response being inaudible—or at least unintelligible—repeats the remark. This one-side conversation continues for some little time.


Of course, one hastens to add, it is possible that a grave injustice is being done to both author and protagonist, and that the whole episode is simply a musical transition. The latter interpretation may well be true, for otherwise it is difficult to believe what ensues: our hero becomes homesick. He has the blues; and if the behavior of the orchestra be any criterion, he has them very thoroughly.


However, nostalgia is not a fatal disease nor, in this instance, of overlong duration. Just in the nick of time the compassionate orchestra rushes another theme to the rescue, two trumpets performing the ceremony of introduction. It is apparent that our hero must have met a compatriot; for this last theme is a noisy, cheerful, self-confident Charleston, without a drop of Gallic blood in its veins.


For the moment, Paris is no more; and a voluble, gusty, wise-cracking orchestra proceeds to demonstrate at some length that it’s always fair weather when two American get together, no matter where….Paris isn’t such a bad place after all; as a matter of fact, it’s a grand place…and the orchestra, in a riotous finale, decides to make a night of it. It will be great to get home; but meanwhile, this is Paris!..Edward Downes (From Program Note “New York Philharmoni Charity Concert in Bangkok)