Soothing though it is to be lulled by Sarah Walker's reassuringly cheery, motherly voice, I have to say that whoever chose the September 21 selection for her and Gillian Moore is in the wrong job. They'd be better off peddling baby powder down Woolwich Market than producing so-called "classics" for Radio 2.5 (once known as 3).
Starting with a light-voiced, Donizetti tenor with glaring technical limitations, doggedly blasting his way through 'Nessun dorma' to painful effect, we passed on to Richard Wagner's 'Ring Odyssey', a single CD of ill-chosen, badly-joined bits and pieces ("ideal for people without the time to listen to the whole 15-hour thing in its original format"); a piano morceau which sounded like what it was - the production of an impeccably-bred, 19th-century charity fund-raiser and musical amateur ("revelatory"); and a deeply embarrassing chamber potting of Scheherezade (for kids?), featuring swoony spoken narrations incanted over the music from a couple of actresses, one of whom suffered from that fashionable affliction of not pronouncing her 'r's ('... some pwetty wose-water'). At least we were on more authentic musical ground with the Overture to Carousel which topped off this thoroughly dispiriting collection.
When there are so many really good CDs being issued, of performances and repertoire infinitely more worthy of the publicity of a BBC airing, the producers of Record Review ought to reflect on the harm they're doing.
Starting with a light-voiced, Donizetti tenor with glaring technical limitations, doggedly blasting his way through 'Nessun dorma' to painful effect, we passed on to Richard Wagner's 'Ring Odyssey', a single CD of ill-chosen, badly-joined bits and pieces ("ideal for people without the time to listen to the whole 15-hour thing in its original format"); a piano morceau which sounded like what it was - the production of an impeccably-bred, 19th-century charity fund-raiser and musical amateur ("revelatory"); and a deeply embarrassing chamber potting of Scheherezade (for kids?), featuring swoony spoken narrations incanted over the music from a couple of actresses, one of whom suffered from that fashionable affliction of not pronouncing her 'r's ('... some pwetty wose-water'). At least we were on more authentic musical ground with the Overture to Carousel which topped off this thoroughly dispiriting collection.
When there are so many really good CDs being issued, of performances and repertoire infinitely more worthy of the publicity of a BBC airing, the producers of Record Review ought to reflect on the harm they're doing.
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