REVIEW POTPOURRI: Aaron Copland, Gloria Lynne
by Peter Cates
Aaron Copland
Aaron Copland – Music for the Theatre Suite; Howard Hanson conducting the Eastman-Rochester Symphony Orchestra; Victor Red Seal M-744, three 12-inch 78s, recorded 1940.
Aaron Copland (1900-1990) completed his Music for the Theatre in 1925 during the summer months at New Hampshire’s MacDowell Colony for the Arts. It is a beautifully introspective work with lovely passages for each section of the orchestra.
Howard Hanson (1896-1981) was Director of the Eastman School of Music at the University of Rochester from 1924 to 1964, a noted composer himself and an outstanding conductor of 20th century American music. This 1940 recording, for my taste, is even better performance-wise than the 1960s stereo recording of Leonard Bernstein and the New York Philharmonic, despite that younger conductor’s close friendship with Copland, because of Bernstein’s over-emotional approach and lack of sensitivity to this music’s quieter moments.
The Hanson 78s can be heard at Archive.org on the Internet.
Gloria Lynne
Gloria Lynne – He Needs Me; Everest LPBR-5128, 12-inch LP, recorded 1961.
Singer Gloria Lynne (1929-2013) emerged during the 1950s and ’60s when other fine African-American vocalists such as Dinah Washington, Della Reese, Sarah Vaughan, Nancy Wilson, Aretha Franklin, Dionne Warwick were achieving much deserved success in jazz and pop music. Lynne had a uniquely lyrical delicacy to her voice similar to that of Nancy Wilson.
Her renditions of I Thought About You, The Lamp is Low, If You Love Me and others on this 1961 Everest album conveyed this quality nicely, with the superb arrangements of Jimmy Jones and his Orchestra.
Two Sibelius 78s:
Finlandia – Artur Rodzinski conducting the Cleveland Orchestra; Columbia Masterworks 11178, 12-inch 78, recorded 1940.
Swan of Tuonela – Leopold Stokowski conducting the Phildelphia Orchestra; Victor Red Seal 7380, 12-inch 78, recorded 1937.
Finland’s still justifiably greatest composer Jean Sibelius (1865-1957), according to the great Maestro Eugene Ormandy who visited with him during an early 1950s concert tour of the Philadelphia Orchestra in Scandinavia, had shelves of records and a top notch phonograph in his living room.
Castine Maine’s David Hall commented in a 1967 Stereo Review piece that the music of the Finn in its celebration of the rocky coast, woods and meadows reminded him of the Penobscot Bay area encompassing Deer Isle, Blue Hill and, of course, Hall’s own favorite village. I once asked if he and the composer ever met; the reply: “I once had the opportunity but chickened out!”
Artur Rodzinski conducted a joyously bristling performance of Finlandia which has become Finland’s own national anthem equivalent of the Star Spangled Banner. In the late ‘50s, Ormandy recorded Finlandia with his Philadelphians and the Mormon Tabernacle Choir which has been my own favorite for more than 60 years.
In 1936, Leopold Stokowski invited Eugene Ormandy to be his co-conductor in Philadelphia, as he admired what Ormandy was achieving with the Minneapolis Symphony . In 1938, Stokowski resigned.
The 1937 Victor shellac featuring Stoky’s interpretive magic in Sibelius’s Swan of Tuonela is well worth hearing via YouTube, especially for the hauntingly eloquent English horn.
Stokowski later rerecorded the Swan with a studio orchestra for Victor and hired Mitch Miller, then one of the finest players of both the oboe and English horn in the country and later more famous for the Sing Along LPs on Columbia Records.
Some more about Sibelius:
The composer told violinist Yehudi Menuhin that Bela Bartok was his favorite 20th century composer.
When German pianist Wilhelm Kempff visited Sibelius, he played the Hammerklavier Sonata which was the composer’s favorite Beethoven piece.
Enrico Caruso
The widow of legendary tenor Enrico Caruso (1873-1921), Dorothy Caruso published a biography of her husband in 1945, titled simply Enrico Caruso His Life and Death.
Although a native New Yorker, she lived much of her adult life in France and Italy. During the late 1930s, she did humanitarian relief work in the Maritime Alps feeding and clothing impoverished families.
In the conclusion to her husband’s biography, Mrs. Caruso wrote:
“When I returned to this country [in 1942] I found that Enrico was not forgotten but living as if he had never died. Twenty-five years is a long time [the couple eloped in 1917] but my memory of him is as clear as if he had left me an hour ago. With every word I wrote he walked into the room. The more I wrote, the more clear those years became.
“I never reread his letters after his death. I never looked at them until I began the book and realized that they were the best illustration of his thought. Because he was such a silent man and thought before he spoke, I think I have remembered everything he said.”
Caruso’s unfailingly down to earth personality is conveyed in an exchange with his good friend John McCormack. When the Irish tenor greeted him with “How’s the world’s greatest tenor this morning?”, Caruso replied, “I didn’t know you were now a baritone.”
With his earnings, Caruso was a secret pal to many. A cleaning lady at the Met Opera was overheard telling a friend that her husband had fallen off a scaffolding and she didn’t know how she would be able to support their family with several children. She found a wad of hundred dollar bills in her winter coat.