In 1920 Arturo Toscanini was the most famous conductor in the world. He had just become Music Director at La Scala for the second time in aims of restoring the fortunes of Italy's most prestigious operatic theater following the ravages of World War I. Between October of 1920 and June of 1921 Toscanini led the orchestra of La Scala on a mammoth tour of Italy, the United States and Canada while their theater was rebuilt. On December 18th, 1920 Toscanini brought his orchestra to the Victor Talking Machine studio in Camden, New Jersey, where at age fifty-three he was at last to make his first recordings.
These historic recordings have received scant respect even from Toscanini's biographers. Harvey Sachs calls them "nearly worthless". Mortimer H. Frank calls them "sonically antediluvian" (really, sonically antediluvian?). At issue seems to be that the limitations of recording technology of the time are glaringly apparent in the ancient sound, and even forced the orchestra to adopt a rather unorthodox formation. One of Toscanini's percussionists recalled that "the orchestra - reduced to its bare essentials - was stuffed and squashed into an enormous wooden niche." Toscanini was evidently enraged by the recorded sound, complaining about "tempi changed, wrong sonorities, no dynamics, no shadings - a real pile of rubbish!" Trying to make music in such conditions was clearly a tremendously uphill battle, and Harvey Sachs summarizes the La Scala set by saying that "the records' interest is therefore principally historical and not musical."
Here's what surprised me about these recordings: they're very, very good. So many of the recordings of that time are both unlistenable and of shoddy technical quality that it is easy to think that the standard of instrumental performance just wasn't very high in the 1920s. Try listening to the 1926 recording of Elgar conducting his Enigma Variations with the Royal Albert Hall Orchestra. While it is fascinating to hear Elgar's own conception of the work, the playing is so dreadful that at times it is hard to catch exactly what the composer meant. That is not the case in these early Toscanini recordings, which are almost shockingly well-played, with all the incisive articulations and singing phrase contours that became hallmarks of his later and better recorded performances. I would also take issue with Sachs' insinuation that these recordings are of purely historical, rather than musical, interest. If these recordings are of no musical value, why would they be of any historical value?
Respighi: Ancient Airs and Dances, Suite No. 1 - December 18th, 1920
The La Scala musicians are strong and vigorous in this piece, and play with a powerful repose in the middle section. The overall character is much more Respighi than it is ancient, but the nature of the arrangement makes this quite appropriate.
Mozart: Symphony No. 39 in Eb Major, Movements 3 and 4 - December 18th and 21st, 1920
Toscanini performs the Minuet movement a bit too heavily to really suit the character of the dance. The brass is a bit overbearing throughout, and is made worse by the presence of a tuba beefing up the double basses (early microphones had a hard time picking up low frequencies). The last movement is a bit hard-driven in Toscanini's conception, but he still manages to keep it light and graceful. The La Scala violins are excellent in the famous audition excerpt.
Pizzetti: La Pisanelle, Prelude to Act I - December 21st, 1920
Of the works on this record that are no longer repertory pieces, the Prelude to Pizzetti's La Pisanelle is by far the most worthy of revival. It builds great excitement through driving rhythms and exotic harmonies, and even has a section reminiscent of early Messiaen. I have heard nothing else by Ildebrando Pizzetti, but if this piece is any evidence his music is worth reevaluating. The work is performed with appropriate sparkle in Toscanini's recording.
Beethoven: Symphony No. 5 in C Minor, movement 4 - December 24th, 1920
Beethoven's Fifth was every bit as much of a repertory work in 1920 as it is today, and the La Scala players gave it a reading of exceptional fire that fully transcended the limitations inherent in the recording technology of the time.
Was Toscanini too Italian?
A common theme of Toscanini criticism has been over whether or not the Italian conductor could lead German music in a sufficiently German style. Since this is the earliest recording we have of Toscanini conducting a major 19th century German work, I thought it would be interesting to compare his performance with two Berlin Philharmonic recordings made within seven years on either end of the 1920 La Scala. The earlier of the two Berlin recordings was led by Arthur Nikisch in 1913, and this also happened to be the very first recording of a complete symphony. The latter took place thirteen years later and was led by Nikisch's successor Wilhelm Furtwängler, who was to be the symbol of the Berlin Philharmonic for the next twenty-eight years and Toscanini's chief rival.
In general I would say that the sonority of the two Berlin recordings is somewhat more unified than Toscanini's, which is understandable given that the La Scala orchestra had only been playing together for three months. Remarkably however, La Scala's ensemble was a good deal more unified than either Berlin recording. Their tightness and precision is actually nothing short of a miracle given the frustrating experience early recording must have been. Their razor-sharp attacks and pointed articulations make for a tremendously exciting performance that clearly outshines the Berlin recordings in intensity.
Of those German recordings what Furtwängler's performance in particular possesses is a weightier sonority that lifts certain fortissimo passages to greater depth than what Toscanini produced (and by 1926 technology seemed to have advanced enough to allow a fuller string section to be used). Furtwängler's brass sound especially full towards the end, and this is actually one of the very few recordings of Beethoven's Fifth where the trombones can be clearly heard (are conductors scared of the new sound, thinking it clashes too much with the first three movements?).
Nikisch's recording is very solid technically for its time, although the 1913 technology forces you to use your imagination a bit (it doesn't sound as though there were any more than maybe two to three string players per part). Of the three conductors Nikisch seems to have the best ear for balance. The inner moving parts are actually more clearly heard in his recording than in a good many of modern performances (especially the low string lines in the second ending leading into the development section).
All three recordings, and indeed most performances I have ever heard, disappoint greatly in the coda. Beethoven clearly marks this section presto, which his metronome marking of whole note equaling 112 certainly confirms. Nikisch only takes this passage at about 88, while Furtwängler goes at about 97. Toscanini takes the coda at a tempo around 108, and his performance is by far the most exciting (though still a bit too slow, in my view). It blows my mind that more conductors don't seem to want to exploit the opportunity for the blazing, triumphant ending Beethoven so clearly asked for.
The three performances in question are all very interesting from a historical standpoint, and all demonstrate orchestral playing of the very highest level for their time. Toscanini's recording is to me the clear winner. The power and intensity he elicits from his La Scala players brings out the revolutionary side of Beethoven in a way the more reverent German recordings lack. Whether or not Toscanini's performance was authentically German I can't say. What I do believe is that his performance is the more authentically Beethoven.
Berlioz: The Damnation of Faust, Rákóczi March - December 24th, 1920
There is great power in Toscanini's performance, but his tempo is about twenty clicks faster than Berlioz's metronome marking. The speed drains heft and makes the remarkable writing less ominous than intended. The brass sound spectacular in their famous section towards the end.
Mendelssohn: Scherzo from A Midsummer Night's Dream - March 9th, 1921
This is the first of six official recordings Toscanini conducted of the famous Mendelssohn Scherzo. This one is among the finest, bringing out the fairyland atmosphere through remarkable precision and dynamic control.
Wolf-Ferrari: The Secret of Suzanne, Overture - March 10th, 1921
The La Scala musicians play the Secret of Suzanne overture with superb grace, but the piece is no less light-weight now than it was in 1921.
Mendelssohn: Wedding March from A Midsummer Night's Dream - March 11th, 1921
The La Scala brass are excellent in the famous Wedding March. Toscanini performed it with a weight that suited its solemnity without becoming overbearing.
Bizet: L'Arlésienne Suite No. 2, Farandole - March 11th, 1921
The opening of the Farandole is a bit slack and subdued, but the entry of the snare drum heats this up into a very exciting performance.
Donizetti: Don Pasquale, Sinfonia - March 29th and 30th, 1921
This is the earliest record we have of Toscanini's way with the classics of Italian opera, and it is wonderful. Toscanini could make even the lightest of opera excerpts sound like masterpieces, and this early Donizetti recording is no exception.
Beethoven: Symphony No. 1 in C Major, Movement 4 - March 30th, 1921
One of the few notable musicians who has given an enthusiastic thumbs-up to these La Scala recordings is Gunther Schuller. In The Compleat Conductor he cites this performance of the last movement of Beethoven's Symphony No. 1 as one of the finest of all early orchestral recordings (he calls a 1917 recording of Beethoven's Symphony No. 5 given by the New York Philharmonic under Josef Stransky "innocent of any imagination or respect for the score"). According to Schuller, Toscanini's Beethoven performance is "a stunning rendition, both interpretively and technically." I agree with him heartily. Toscanini gives it all the appropriate weight of the full-blooded later Beethoven with the delicacy that hearkens back to Haydn.
Bizet: Carmen Suite No. 1, Aragonaise - March 31st, 1921
I find this performance to be a bit overly subdued and lacking in the exoticism that Bizet was going after.
Massenet: Scènes pittoresques: Fête bohème - March 31st, 1921
Although the La Scala musicians play this with remarkable precision and brilliance (the woodwinds are particularly wonderful) there is a reason why this piece disappeared from the repertory. It sounds a bit like an orchestration of a third-rate Chopin polonaise.
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It is undoubtedly true that one cannot take these recordings as being fully representative of the sound Toscanini got out of an orchestra. I suppose one would have to take with a grain of salt any recording that was made before technology had advanced to where orchestras could record in long takes in their own concert hall and in their normal configuration. But that does not mean one should ignore fine playing when it is there to hear. These fine recordings of the La Scala orchestra under the direction of Arturo Toscanini represent playing of the highest level. These performances are of great importance both historically and musically.
That's it for Day 1. Tomorrow I will turn to Toscanini's earliest recordings with the New York Philharmonic. In order these are:
- Mendelssohn: Nocturne and Scherzo from A Midsummer Night's Dream - February 4th, 1926
- Dukas: The Sorcerer's Apprentice - March 18th, 1929
- Verdi: Prelude to Act I from La traviata - March 18th, 1929
- Verdi: Prelude to Act III from La traviata - March 29th, 1929
- Haydn: Symphony No. 101 - March 29th and 30th, 1929
- Mendelssohn: Scherzo from A Midsummer Night's Dream - March 30th, 1929
Have a good day and I will see you tomorrow!
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