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Rachmaninoff, Sergei. Symphony No. 2 in E-Minor, Op. 27 (Complete Version).
The Philadelphia Orchestra, Eugene Ormandy, Conductor.
Recorded 18 & 19 December 1973 at Scottish Rite Cathedral, Philadelphia.
RCA Victrola 60132 (AAD/Stereo - U.S. Release).
RCA Victor Japan BVCC-38057. (ADD/Stereo - Japanese Release).*
RCA "Basic 100," 68022, Vol. 53. (ADD/Stereo - U.S. Release).+
Originally released as  RCA Red Seal ARL1-1150 (Stereo).

• * Japanese Release Includes:  Scriabin, Alexander.  Poem of Ecstasy, Op. 54 (Gilbert Johnson, Trumpet).   Recorded 3 March 1971 at Scottish Rite Cathedral, Philadelphia.

• +  Basic 100 Release Includes:  Rachmaninoff, Sergei.  Isle of the Dead, Op. 29;  Chicago Symphony Orchestra, Fritz Reiner, Conductor. Originally Released as  RCA Victor Red Seal LSC-2183 (Living Stereo) and LM-2183 (Mono) in 1958.

The complete Second Symphony did have its champions in the lean years (those preceding the Rachmaninoff Centenary, in 1973).  Chief among them was Leopold Stokowski, who performed the work complete at the Hollywood Bowl in the 1950s.  But it was not until Andre Previn recorded the complete version for EMI in 1973 that the longer version became widely known and celebrated for the masterful work it truly is.  The success of the Previn recording was instant and lasting, and was probably the impetus for RCA to record the complete version with Ormandy and the Philadelphians in late 1973 in stereo and quadraphonic, to be issued in early 1975.

It is therefore fitting that during Eugene Ormandy's centenary, 1999, that RCA Japan has re-issued this superb recording of the complete Rachmaninoff Second Symphony (Volume 10 of the Centenary Edition).

  The 1973 Ormandy version of the Rachmaninoff Second is my personal favorite, even more than the Previn, which itself is very passionate and energetic.  One of the false charges critics level against Ormandy was that his famed "Philadelphia Sound" was a uniformly applied formula of warm, lush string tonality.  This simplistic contention ignores the peerless contributions of the brass, winds and percussion.  But, most importantly, it ignores Eugene Ormandy's complete and subtle understanding of the music he conducted.  Like Erich Leinsdorf, Ormandy could memorize a score in a few hours.  Like Arturo Toscanini, Ormandy comprehended the score on an intuitive, emotional, level.

This recording of the Rachmaninoff Second Symphony exemplifies this philosophy of conducting.  Just as Sir John Barbirolli had a consummate, authoritative and implicit command of the music of Elgar and Sibelius, so did Eugene Ormandy possess the same qualities when it came to Rachmaninoff's.  Whereas a conductor such as Stokowski or Previn (whose recording belongs in the Stokowski camp) would have command of the obvious, what gives the Ormandy recording its sense as an honest and thoroughly heartfelt performance is his command of the less-than-obvious.  What drives this performance are the nuances between and beneath the notes.  A cursory listening could lead one to dismiss this performance as "formulaic," especially given the more "animated" performances out there.  But given an understanding of Rachmaninoff's music, of his friendship with, and tutelage of, Ormandy, and of the ends to which Ormandy subordinated the orchestra --  One realises that the "Philadelphia Sound" was hardly an end in itself.

The first movement, Largo; Allegro moderato, opens in a state of dark melancholy.  The strings, especially the basses, are sumptuous and full-toned.  The development of the first theme is gradual;  Hints of what is to come are given, but the Philadelphia holds something back.  The Rachmaninovian device of building up to the climax is very aptly employed here.  The one thing I most enjoy about the performance of this movement in particular - and the symphony as a whole - is that the when solo instrumentalists play in the foreground, they do not overshadow the playing of other sections and other soloists.  This is key, since there is so much going on in this movement.  It is very Russian, very Romantic:  Weaving this tapestry of sound, all the threads remain integral, yet brilliantly visible.
The introduction to the second theme by the violas is very delicate, punctuated acutely by the lower strings ('cellos and basses).  It is a very solid, yet gentle, rendering, especially as the winds wander in and out of the the orchestration.  The bittersweet theme introduced by the solo clarinet leads to the most sensual exposition of this movement I've heard.  It is the orchestral counterpart to a performance by screen actress Joan Fontaine:  Beneath a deceptively cool and reserved exterior lies an undercurrent of passion and sexual tension.  The ending of the movement is rousing, and jolts the listener with the unexpected:  Instead of finishing on a single note played ff on the double-bass, Ormandy substitutes the same note played staccato on the timpani!

Of all the movements, the second, Allegro molto, is the most thoroughly Russian of all.  Beginning like a festive winter's sleigh ride, this panoply of jubilant sound brings to mind Rimsky-Korsakov more so than Tchaikovsky.  There is a concerted and purposeful buildup of tension to an explosive main theme, which is reintroduced in the symphony's finale.  As lighthearted, however, as this movement is, the feelings of ecstasy are offset by the ever-present suggestion of mortality.  What most impresses me is the sense of contrasts Ormandy and the Philadelphians present:  The most striking aspect of this movement are the aggressiveness of the basses;  the false expectation produced by them is spirited away in a deftly-executed and understated ending in mezzo-piano.  It is a case of the fall of sledge-hammer as the prelude to the proverbial feather, as in the denouement of Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini.

     The third movement, Adagio, is the most memorable of this symphony.  It begins as a simple liebeslied, through a lucid and evocative solo on clarinet.  The emotional theme of the movement is unmistakeable to anyone who has ever loved and lost, a paean to unrequited love.  Yet, the movement as communicated by Ormandy and the Philadelphians tells not of morose defeat, but reminiscing of the joy of love, before the loss.  With the most unadorned simplicity, the main theme is imparted by gentle turns of phrasing on a four-note figure for oboe.  Strings and brass turn over the theme, seemingly returning the passion to the present time, if only fleetingly.  The restatement of  the second theme, a six-note figure handed over by the solo French horn  in turn to the viola, oboe, flute and clarinet suggest the passage of time since, of seasons changed and events beginning to fade from memory.  The adagio ends with the flutes and clarinet.  What was once a flame becomes a flicker, slowly dying out.  It is difficult to try to communicate what this movement means to me in words.  To those who know the movement, I can only say that it is the most natural and unforced playing I've ever heard of it.

The finale (Allegro vivace), on the other hand, is an impassioned hymn of deliverance.  With brass and percussion at the forefront, much of the opening theme hearkens back to the first two movements.  However, the tension and conflict introduced in those movements has been resolved.  The introduction of the second theme, primarily by strings - and echoed by the flutes and trumpets - gives reassurance that while love may not have triumph, that life nonetheless does.  After a quite dolce interlude - a refrain of the adagio - the triumphal finish kicks in.  A celebration affirming life itself, the finale recalls the suspenseful and powerful ending of the Third Concerto.

There are currently three discs in current release by RCA of this performance.  The budget Victrola issue (60132) stands alone, but is the least expensive ($6.98 at amazon.com).  The "Basic 100" release runs $10.98 at amazon, but has a cleaner remastered sound and the  1958 Fritz Reiner/Chicago Symphony "Living Stereo" recording of Die Toteninsel  (Rach Sacrilege:  I prefer Isle to the 3rd Piano Concerto!)  While the Reiner performance lacks the intensity of the 1945 Mitropoulos recording and the sonority of the Koussevitzky release, there is something about this recording that gets under your skin.  The performance, taken as a whole, flows beautifully.  It is a very dreamy, other-worldly, rendering, very impressionistic (it is no mistake it was once billed with Debussy's La Mer on a previous vinyl release - RCA Gold Seal AGL1-1523).  The buildup of tension and release is more implied than in the Mitropoulos.  However, this version has the most sonorous brass of any version I've heard.  This is to be expected, since Reiner was such a peerless conductor of Wagner and Richard Strauss.  The statement of the Dies Irae theme on the horns is the most ominous - I get goose bumps every time!  The only disappointment is from the timpanist, who never comes to the forefront, as is required in the penultimate and final climaxes.  The ending, on the other hand, shows Reiner's master touch:  It is softly and subtly inevitable.  Death is triumphant not with a bang, but a whisper.

   However, the creme de la creme is the 1999 RCA Japan Release.  It is difficult to obtain, but worth it;  just visit HMV Records Japan.  The remastering is pristine and the packaging is gorgeous, using original cover art and a special Ormandy Centenary label on the CD.  Plus, the Rachmaninoff Second is billed with Scriabin's Poem of Ecstasy, which Ormandy and Philadelphia recorded in 1971, currently unavailable in the U.S.  How to describe Poeme d'Extase?  Many people assume that since both Rachmaninoff and Scriabin were not only contemporaries, but close friends, and that Scriabin's music (particularly the Etudes for piano) is close in style to Rachmaninoff's, that the two should be played similarly.  This is not entirely true;  If Rachmaninoff was a Romantic, then he was a repressed one -- Scriabin was quite the extrovert by comparison.  In fact, in the memorial concerts Rachmaninoff played after Scriabin's death in 1915, many found Rachmaninoff's pianism too cerebral and aloof, hardly fitting the epicurean Scriabin.  In short, Rachmaninoff was the Apollonian, Scriabin the Dionysian.  So goes this performance:  It is a model of sustained passion, a whirlpool of tonal colour.  It opens mysteriously on the flute, harp and viola.  The trumpet, played expertly by chair Gilbert Johnson, is pulled into the introduction gradually, while other instruments dominate.  Not a strict concerto (in fact, it was Scriabin's 4th Symphony), Poeme d'Extase is more of a cross between concerto and tone-poem, rather like Berlioz' Harold In Italy.  The work, which is about 21 minutes in length, is written in a single movement, and is composed of variations on a single theme.  Over 6-1/2 minutes pass before Johnson's trumpet emerges as the dominant force of this composition.  Johnson's horn has a beautiful round, warm, tone to it, almost like a cornet - the complete opposite of Roger Voisin's searing horn in the famed 1952 recording with Pierre Monteux and the Boston Symphony (RCA Victor Red Seal LM-1775).  Though he is the soloist, Johnson's performance melds with the orchestra's seamlessly, a peculiar quality Ormandy obtains even with soloists who aren't orchestra members.  There is something beautiful and maddening about this work - Scriabin was a notorious narcissist, and there is a very irrational, Nietzschean, flavour to it (in introductory notes to the score, Scriabin penned of the Spirit, whose force dominates this work, the "human striving after the ideal and the Ego theme gradually" realises "itself."  At last, climax is attained and "the universe resounds with the joyful cry 'I am.'")  The themes of fear, love, death and sex are tenuously intertwined, rather much like a weird cross between Ayn Rand's The Fountainhead and Bernard Herrmann's Concerto Macabre in the score for the 1945 film-noir Hangover Square.  Ormandy pulls it off beautifully, batheing the listener in plush, aural upholstery.  Poem of Ecstasy spells out in classical form Lemmy Kilmister's haunting maxim "The answer to life's mysteries is simple and direct: Sex and death."

The RCA Japan version may very well represent the best example of Eugene Ormandy's conducting available.  Make it a part of your permanent library before this limited release disappears.