Antonin Dvorak
Cello Concerto In B Minor
Op. 104

Gregor Piatigorsky, cello
Charles Munch Conducting
The Boston Symphony Orchestra

Review By Max Westler
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  Is there a more seductive, a more completely satisfying work in the entire orchestral repertory than the Dvorak Cello Concerto? With its rousing vitality and generous melodic invention, its passionate ardor, it is just the gift to melt the heart of your tin-eared friend who has thus far resisted the call of "serious" music. In preparing for this review I listened to the (probably too many) versions of the work in my collection, and damned if every single one of them didn't leave an appreciative smile on my face.

I'm not sure how, once you succumb to the charms of this music, you can manage without multiple versions of it. There are, to begin with, two self-recommending historical performances in serviceable mono, both with the Czech Philharmonic: Casals/Szell from 1937 and Rostropovitch/Talich from the 1950's. All of these great artists are at the very top of their form.  But you should also seek out two later o versions that are no less idiomatic or thrilling — the 1954 Fournier/Kubelik with the Vienna Philharmonic and the much-celebrated Mercury Living Presence Stereo recording by Janos Starker/Dorati with the London Symphony.  [note:  the Fournier/Kubelik performance has been reissued in a splendid-sounding Super Analogue mono LP: (KIJC(M) 9215).   Click here for a full review.] After feasting on these riches, you may be ready for something completely different. Enter Piatigorsky and Munch.

The shrouded, forlorn figure on the cover — Piatigorsky slumped over his cello — looks more like one of those fatally melancholic noblemen out of Dostoyevsky or Chekhov than someone about to play a high-spirited, life-affirming score. And whom has RCA in its infinite wisdom chosen to accompany him but the impulsive, combustible Charles Munch. In other words, we would seem to have here a pairing of (bi)polar opposites. But why not? Weren't they both under contract?

So what happens when you mix cold borscht with steaming cassoulet? Usually, acute gastric distress. But here, against all odds, the inward-looking Piatorksky and the extroverted Munch bring off a performance that may be open to criticism on many counts, but boredom is definitely not one of them. Here is a risk-taking high-wire act with both soloist and conductor pushing their very different ideas to dangerous extremes. There's something charmingly old-fashioned about their refusal to play it safe.

As you would guess, tempos fluctuate freely, shifting between Munch's hot-blooded vehemence and Piatigorsky's characteristic brooding. As a consequence, the music sounds more moody and restless, more intense and stormy than usual. If Tchaikovsky had written a cello concerto, it might have sounded something like this.

What makes this screwball approach work is, I think, the orchestra. In their years of playing for the unpredictable Munch, these great musicians learned to follow his sometimes breathless athleticism with precision, grace, and power. Here they manage to make the contrasts sound almost (but not quite) natural. Above all, they are incapable of producing a note that isn't beautifully rounded and burnished, thrilling to behold. Exquisitely rendered here by the XRCD processing, every solo registers with voluptuous detail; the recording has remarkable impact and presence. I found it easy to imagine myself back in Symphony Hall, leaning over the balcony, getting both barrels of this performance right between the eyes.

One caveat: because of JVC's "facsimile of the original LP" approach to these RCA Living Stereo reissues, this premium-priced disc contains only 42 minutes of music. If you would like to try this performance but balk at the expense, you should know that BMG is about to reissue it on one of their ever-multiplying budget labels, paired with Munch's equally compelling performance of the Dvorak Eighth Symphony. But if you have the cash, I highly recommend this XRCD disc. Under its considerable spell, you'll soon find yourself wondering, how can something so wrong feel so right?

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