Gustav Holst
The Planets, Op. 32 Ralph Vaughan Williams Fantasia on “Greensleeves” Fantasia on a Theme by Thomas Tallis New London Children’s Choir Philharmonia Players Leonard Slatkin, director Recorded: 1996 (The Planets), 1992 (Fantasia on “Greensleeves”), 1991 (Tallis Fantasia) Label:; RCA Red Seal Sound Dimension 74321 68018 2 DDD Duration: 70:15 ––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––– Leonard Slatkin’s reading of The Planets with the Philharmonia Orchestra arrives at a beguiling moment: a budget-priced offering that promises more than mere economy. At around five pounds, one might expect a straightforward if uninspired take, but here the performance unfolds with enough intelligence and vigour to merit real attention—even if it does not quite ascend to the loftiest heights in the vast discography.
Mars, the Bringer of War, opens as it should—ominous, relentless. The brass bite hard, brassy and taut, their fanfares cutting through the orchestral texture with a satisfying ferocity. Yet the strings, which ought to burrow beneath the surface with a simmering, brooding menace, come up just a shade short of that dark pulse.
The slow-building tension doesn’t quite grip; momentum stalls before gathering full force. That central string menace is crucial—without it, Mars misses a layer of subterranean threat. By contrast, Venus is a model of serenity.
Slatkin draws from the strings a lithe, ethereal shimmer—small waves of sound that float rather than settle, perfectly capturing the goddess’s calm allure. It’s a subtle, nuanced touch that shows a good feel for atmosphere. Mercury, fleet of foot, benefits from some crisply articulated woodwinds, fleet but never rushed.
The orchestra’s ensemble proves taut here, the direction nimble. Jupiter, the Bringer of Jollity, sparkles with brass that are as warm as they are jubilant. Slatkin’s pacing is judicious, not overplaying the movement’s inherent buoyancy but ensuring it bubbles with genuine cheer.
It’s not quite the raucous, wildly expansive Jupiter of some great recordings—those famously imbued with big-heartedness and robust swagger—but the performance remains thoroughly enjoyable, affable without descending into mere good humour. Saturn, the composer’s favourite, presents more of a challenge—its slow, inexorable tread is a test of orchestral discipline and conducting patience. Here, Slatkin nails the atmosphere: the opening is daunting, the slow crescendo measured with care, building to a climax that is grand but never overwrought.
The closing passages, imbued with quiet reconciliation and an almost spiritual calm, are handled with a tender touch. This movement reveals the conductor’s understanding of Holst’s more profound gestures, even if some moments could benefit from slightly more emotional breadth. Uranus, the Magician, has a grotesque, manic centre that calls for a certain wildness and unpredictability.
Slatkin’s reading is well-shaped but seems a bit contained—one longs for a sharper edge, a more jagged, unhinged quality to that central march. Still, it works overall. Neptune, the final movement, is where the performance falters.
The ethereal mystery that should haunt the closing bars is too restrained; the phrasing lacks the necessary ebb and flow—some entries feel slightly hesitant or “lumpy,” breaking the magical illusion that this movement demands. The New London Children’s Choir, while competent, lacks the spectral, otherworldly quality that a women’s choir often brings to the final fade-out. Neptune rarely fails to move me, yet here it invites a certain cool distance.
The inclusion of Vaughan Williams’s Fantasia on “Greensleeves” and the Fantasia on a Theme by Thomas Tallis adds welcome variety and real value. The Tallis Fantasia is a rewarding performance—warmth and spirit predominate, though it falls short of the deepest rapture and tonal richness found in some benchmark versions. Still, these are solid, well-crafted renditions that complement the Holst nicely.
You can almost hear the rosin dust settling on the strings.
The sound, remastered in 24-bit, is generally full and well balanced. Unlike some other releases in the same RCA “Sound Dimension” series, the Philharmonia’s timbres come — through crisply, with a vividness that makes this a pleasant listening experience even on modest systems. In sum: this disc offers more than a budget purchase usually promises.
Slatkin’s Planets is no definitive statement but a dependable, thoughtful traversal with moments of real charm and insight. It’s a sturdy companion disc for those building a library, though aficionados with their cherished favourites will find little here to unseat the titan recordings. Still—a good, solid interpretation at a very fair price, with bonus Vaughan Williams to sweeten the pot.
Not a revelation—but certainly worth your time.
