With two CDs available, this should surely have been the complete Cinderella, not just the three suites un-reordered with two companion-pieces from other phases in the composer's career (interesting, admittedly, to compare and contrast). A certain expertise in cutting choreographic repetitions and stitching a dance sequence together makes the Romeo and Juliet Suites attractive alternatives to the full score, but while there are a few interesting composite numbers, out-of-context longueurs flaw their Cinderella counterparts. Not even Jarvi, with his delight in playing with the rhythms, could prevent the Mazurka or the oriental hocus-pocus from Act 3, which fills out the Third Suite, from outstaying their welcome; and Theodore Kuchar is no dance-master, even though his reliable preparation means there are very few messy manoeuvres here. It is the orchestral sound which proves such poor company. The Introduction is promising expansive, well-weighted melancholy and interesting details from the lower strings in Cinderella's sweet dreams, a strain successfully recaptured in the ''Pas de deux'' of the Second Suite (nicely pointed, like the pre-midnight waltz). But the violins sound uncomfortable without resonant support—there is no bite in the quarrel, Allegro ordinario rather than Allegro irato and the over-reverberant Ukrainian studio recording is inconsistent, to say the least: the trumpet in the Pas de chale issues from the next echo-chamber and a monster flute contrasts with a recessed oboe in the summer fairy variation. Harp celesta and percussion loom in the spotlight: interesting at midnight, providing inappropriate giant-musical-box effects as Cinderella arrives at the ball.
There are the same inequalities in the Scythian Suite—glitter to the fore, savage brass clipped and muzzled—which makes it more comfortable listening than usual. Certainly it gets the best performance: with the exception of the toyland tune just before the magnesium-flare sunrise in the last movement, all the melodies cut distinctively through the enfant-terrible filigree (the enigmatic dialogue after the opening thrash, with flutes this time decently distanced, is beautifully done). On the Dnieper needs more focus, less reverberation, a cooler head—though the playing is decent enough to register a prototype for the Sixth Symphony's slow movement in the ''Betrothal'' sequence. Unfortunately Rozhdestvensky's much more trenchant account of the full 40-minute score on Olympia (7/87) is not currently available, but in any case it's hardly worth acquiring this fitfully engaging set for that work alone.'