Koussevitzky conducted countless premieres of contemporary American and European music during his quarter-of-a-century tenure as maestro of the Boston Symphony, a body he refined into one of the world’s greatest orchestras. Many of the new works he actually commissioned himself, among them Hanson’s richly romantic Second Symphony. The composer directed the first public performance of the Third in Boston in 1930, and Koussevitzky followed in his footsteps, performing it in Cambridge, Boston and New York before making this recording in 1940.
I was glad to discover that from the start the public took the symphony to their hearts, as well they might. It is a splendid piece, its atmosphere obviously stemming from the Northern hemisphere – as Hanson has acknowledged. Sibelius’s influence is clear, but the lucid construction is the composer’s own and so is the rich stream of lyrical melody. At the work’s opening, the music rises out of the northern mists but the double-basses soon stride forward to introduce the main idea of the first movement which later crystallizes into a haunting, solemn chorale (4'16'') and is to provide germinal material for the whole work. The Andante tranquillo brings one of the composer’s most memorable lyrical themes which unfolds with heartfelt eloquence. The initially less comfortable scherzo begins with menacing drumbeats, but later lightens into a skipping dance and produces another ardent, if darker-coloured lyrical interlude before the mood tautens again for the close. The finale, marked Largamente e pesante has great strength and a sinewy, brooding power with the melody of the Andante finally returning over that throbbing drumbeat to produce the passionate apotheosis. Koussevitzky’s reading is intensely committed. Obviously he captures the work’s Sibelian inheritance but he also establishes the individuality of Hanson’s sound-world, building the finale steadily to its final climax with gripping concentration. The Boston musicians respond to a man. It is a great performance from an interpreter who has absorbed the score into his own musical consciousness before making what is clearly a definitive recording. The Biddulph transfer is remarkably good and satisfyingly balanced: one soon forgets any sonic inadequacies, so compelling is the music-making.
For a curtain-raiser there is a programme of short pieces, all superbly played, of which the most memorable are the beautiful Mussorgsky Khovanshchina Prelude, sombrely paced, and the Liadov Enchanted Lake, full of evocative magic (here the Boston sound is more atmospheric than in the Mussorgsky, and remarkably full). The excerpts from Faure’s Pelleas et Melisande are exquisitely done, especially the delicate “Fileuse” and the touching “Mort de Melisande”, although here climaxes are fierce. The two Rimsky-Korsakov pieces bring a more appropriate brilliance. But it is the Hanson Symphony that makes the present CD indispensable. Even though its rich textures call out for modern stereo – which is available in an outstanding modern recording from Gerard Schwarz and the Seattle Symphony Orchestra, highly praised by ES (Delos, 2/91) – first recordings are always special and this Koussevitzky premiere is no exception. I only regret that it is offered at full price, which in my view is always too high for historical recordings.'