HERRMANN. Symphony. National Philharmonic Orchestra conducted by Bernard Herrmann. Unicorn RHS331 (L2.75).

Bernard Herrmann wrote his Symphony in 1941, the year when the United States entered the second world war, and as Christopher Palmer notes in his helpful sleeve-note, it reflects the spirit of the time. It is, as Palmer says, a Sibelian work, but that influence provides only a part of the flavour, for Herrmann is generously eclectic, and I found myself through the four movements following a sort of musical quiz contest, noting one echo after another. Walton's First Symphony and Vaughan Williams's Fourth—particularly the former with its obvious Sibelian touches—come to mind at various points, but I found the demoniac Scherzo getting me to jot down in quick succession Stravinsky's Petrushka, Berlioz's Symphonit fantastique, Verdi's Falstaff ("pizzica, stuzzica"), not to mention Saint-Saens's Dense macabre in the reprise where a solo violin makes a brief entry. All this adds up fairly convincingly if unexpectedly to a soviet-style scherzo. In the slow movement echoes of Walton's First (the Finale as well as the slow movement) mingle with touches of Rachmaninov's Second, and it is only with the start of the Finale that I detect any real hint of American influences, when the very start brings a flavour of the Copland of the wide open spaces, before the exuberant writing starts echoing Russian sources like Scheherazade and the Rite of Spring (made sweet).

I make this list not to discourage anyone from listening, but to suggest that the very generosity of the inspiration (whatever the source) confirms this as a work which the composer had to get out of his system. As we now know from record as well as film, Herrmann is an extraordinarily skilled writer of film music, and his professionalism as a composer is consistently plain in the rich and varied instrumentation. Even so I don't think it is imagination which suggests that Herrmann's very success in illustrating changes of mood on film has tended to work against him in developing symphonic argument. I am not saying that this score sounds like film music, but that in the first movement—on which above all any symphonic structure must primarily be judged— the extremity of contrast between first and second subjects tends to pull the argument apart. The transition from fast to slow is well handled, but the contrasted groups of material remain separate in feeling, the more so when the exposition takes up a full half of the movement. Formally the second and third movements are more obviously satisfying and the Finale loads everything in enjoyably for good measure, whisking on from one idea to another up to the grandiose conclusion.

This is plainly not a great symphony, but there is much to enjoy particularly in so committed a performance by the National Philharmonic. That orchestra may formally be no more than a pick-up ensemble brought together by Sydney Sax, but evidently for the sizeable number of recordings for which Sax has provided the players a remarkable consistency has been achieved, and the results are impressive in all sections. From the opening unison motif for four horns the stereo is warm and spacious with sharp but not aggressive directional placing. E.G. [See also "Here & There" on page 1321—Ed.]