The Cantata profana was obviously a project close to Bartok's heart. The text is his own, based on the Romanian fable of nine hunters transformed into stags, who ignore their father's pleas to return home; and as the sleeve-note points out, behind all the various levels of symbolism lies a creed of anti-urbanism which is one of the strongest threads in Bartok's personality. But the strength of feeling behind the work did not somehow translate into memorable musical ideas. So, at least, one might conclude from this recording. Perhaps the most one should conclude from it is that the piece is extraordinarily difficult to perform well. The chorus must know it as well as any in the world; yet they do not really sound as though they understand the meaning of the notes. And the tenor soloist, though rarely more than a whole tone out, has considerable difficulty finding the notes at all. (He is no mean artist either—his last phrase is most movingly sung.)
The Concerto is every bit as well played as the rather flat Concertgebouw version (Philips), with some beautifully expressive woodwind solos in the first movement. But it generates nothing like the excitement of the Chicago recording (Decca), and although Ferencsik points the ''Giuoco delle coppie'' less self-consciously than Solti, that is the only respect in which his reading is preferable. Maddeningly, the attack on the first note of the ''Intermezzo'' has been snipped off—a species of gremlin I have not previously encountered with Compact Disc.'