For close more than 20 years, I lived on the East Coast, first as a
graduate student at Boston University, then as an aspiring insurance type
in Hartford and Fairfield County, Connecticut.  A fixture of those years
was the Boston Symphony--first hearing them as a student on "rush" tickets
on Friday afternoons, then staying in touch as a visitor to Tanglewood,
Symphony Hall or through the Saturday night radio broadcasts.  These
memories came tumbling back as I started listening to the BSO broadcast
archives, a 12-CD boxed set drawn from the broadcasts of 1943-2000.  This
commemorative edition, the first release from Boston after the success of
the Cleveland, Chicago and NY Philharmonic broadcast boxes, is available
on the Symphony's website (www.bso.org) and through selected Virgin
Megastores.

Having made my way through most of the music, I can share these
impressions:

Highlights:  Although the contents were selected to avoid the duplication
of BSO material available on commercial CDs, the disc devoted to Charles
Munch contains another "La Mer" and Ravel's "La Valse," plus Franck's "Le
Chasseur Maudit"--all on RCA at one time or another.  But what a difference
to hear Munch in live performance..the Ravel is positively manic, as the
players race headlong to keep up with what must have been faster and more
flexible tempi than rehearsal.  The Franck is worlds apart from the 1961
RCA LP, and a 1958 Roussel Suite in F and smaller bits from Auber, Franck
and Prokofiev add to the impression of a conductor who saved his best for
live performances.

This set burnishes the image of Erich Leinsdorf, who came off as a
cool martinet following Munch as music director.  On his disc, however,
he is warm and lyrical in Janacek's music from the "Cunning Little
Vixen," Smetana's "Moldau" Wagner's "Siegfried Idyll" and Lanner's "Die
Mozartisten" waltz sequence.  Pierre Monteux majors in Richard Strauss,
with a rousing suite from "Der Rosenkavalier" and a Don Quixote that
outclasses Ozawa's Sony BSO version with Yo-Yo Ma.  And a searing
performance of Vaughn Williams Tallis Fantasia under Monteux is doubly
poignant, since it comes less than six months before his death in 1964.

More surprises:  Bruno Walter delivers a quick, witty Haydn "Oxford"
symphony in 1947 that seems out of character with his later (and slower)
Columbia recordings.  Leopold Stokowski cuts and pastes:  his 1968 "Don
Giovanni" overture includes bars from the final moments of the opera that
turn it into a dark mini-tone poem, while his reading of Tchaikovsky's
"Hamlet" is missing pages of transitions and repeats (lest any Brahmins
lose interest).  Giulini sees more in Hindemith's "Mathis der Maler" than
Steinberg's commercial version in Boston.  Bernard Haitink, a frequent
target of this list, is relaxed and genial in a Schubert symphony, rousing
in the "Jupiter" movement from Holst's Planets.

This set captures the immediacy of some of the magical moments in the
orchestra's history:  the 1949 premiere of Bernstein's "Age of Anxiety"
with the composer at the piano; the fourth performance (December, 1944) of
Bartok's Concerto for Orchestra under Koussevitzky (both with the original
endings that were changed later), and the excitement stirred up by Guido
Cantelli in his 1954 guest appearance.  And I can feel the excitement as
Tennstedt opens his first guest appearance in Boston with the "Academic
Festival" overture and Sir Colin Davis grabs our lapels with a roaring
Vaughn-Williams fourth, and, later, a colorful Berlioz "Royal Hunt and
Storm" (including the requisite chorus).

Disappointments? A few...Dmitri Mitropoulos deserves better than this
tentative 1944 run-through of Gould's "Spirituals." I can't get excited
about Thomas Schippers' Verdi overture after hearing Cantelli and
Markevitch with the BSO, and appearances by Richard Burgin and Joseph
Silverstein feel more like recognition for loyal service than inspired
performances.  And as exciting as Munch's moments go, I could do with one
less "La Mer" in favor of a Honegger, Lalo or Milhaud piece that hadn't
been recorded for commercial release.

There are two discs of Ozawa's work, and none of it duplicates his
commercial output; and most shows him to good advantage with the big,
colorful complex compositions he does best.  Bartok's "Bluebeard's Castle,"
Messiaen's Trois Liturgies, and Stravinsky's Symphony of Psalms are all
well-executed and enthusiastically received.  The final two discs consist
of overtures, encores, and rehearsal excerpts.  Koussevitzky's mangled
English is a hoot, and Bernstein is clearly warming up for television
as he lectures the players (and listeners) in 1949.

Packaging is first-rate:  attractive slip cases, with a very informative
140-page booklet covering the selection process, biographies notes from the
original programs, technical information, archive photos, and excerpts from
reviews of each performance.  Sound is superb throughout, whether it's
acetates from the 1944 broadcasts, the AM-FM stereo simulcasts of the late
50s, quadraphonic experiments (spatial effects that enhance the Steinberg
Bruckner 8th of 1972) or latter day digital stereo.  Interestingly, the
remastering was done at EMI's Abbey Road studios in London; RCA has a low
profile on this enterprise.  Indeed, the sound of the BSO on the stage of
Symphony Hall is a source of wonder and joy throughout.  This set is a
tribute to a great orchestra and its very special home.  Look no further if
you're in doubt about a Christmas gift for a music lover.  Besides, if it
sells well, the selection committee promises a sequel.

Dick Claeys