Elgar: Symphony No. 2; Prelude to Dream of Gerontius; "Imperial March." (Adrian Boult, BBC Symphony Orchestra)

What witness do we have of the music composed before and between the two World Wars? Stravinsky, yes! Schoenberg, no! But with the passage of time, the era begins to take shape, and three new recordings aid the process. Composer, conductor, teacher, critic, Paul Hindemith was a musical jack of all trades. The avant garde never forgave him for his campaign against Schoenberg's Procrustean theories. He knew where music should go, but he could never quite walk that road himself. His compositions had body, intelligence, and scope, but they lacked the essential elements of tunefulness, spontaneity, and that quality which derives from the dance. Hindemith Conducts Hindemith-in EMI/Angel's Great Recordings of the Century series-is a sampler of his strengths and weaknesses. It includes a suite, Nobilissimo Visione; a horn concerto excellently played by the virtuoso Dennis Brain; the Symphony in E Flat; and a Konzertmusik for brasses and strings. It is music we respect and enjoy, beautifully crafted, but lacking in emotion. It belongs in the repertory, though, if only to explain why Hindemith was so great a teacher (EMI/Angel CDH 7 6337 2).

It is perhaps unfair that I should get so much more enjoyment from Edward Elgar's Symphony No. 2-also a reissue in the Great Recordings of the Century series, in Sir Adrian Boult's historic wartime recording with the BBC Symphony Orchestra. Included, too, is the prelude to Elgar's Dream of Gerontius and his "Imperial March." Hindemith is by far the more serious and meaningful composer. Elgar had far less to say, but he said it so well, extracting the maximum from every phrase by sheer orchestral perspicacity and know how. There is charm and grace in his impeccable British manner, and he delights in his skill at creating sonorities and textures. Everything is in good taste, with no taxing of the musical nerves. And to this can be added Boult's distinguished and understanding conducting, which takes the measure of the score without adding or subtracting an inch (EMI/Angel CDH 7 63142).

The third witness is Alexander Scriabin. His Symphony No. 2 in C Minor-coupled for no apparent reason with Tchaikovsky's fantasia Hamlet-receives the full treatment of Riccardo Muti and the great Philadelphia Orchestra. I have always felt that the Ilecstasies" for which Scriabin was famous had a touch of the puckish in them, and that his piece of the Russian soul was to be found in the less moody quadrant. This symphony is buoyed by its rhythms, its bursts of song, its headlong rush even in the opening andante. It is Russian in the best sense, with no groans from the Volga boatman. If it is lesser music-whatever that is-it is far more rewarding than the mathematical calibrations of today's musical utterance (EMI/Angel 7 49859 2).