Rubinstein Preserved in ‘Last Recital for ‘Israel’

Sometimes it seems as though every twitch of current classical stars is videotaped--often in flossy productions from the artists’ publicists--and repeatedly broadcast to presumably adoring and grateful masses on public television.

That wasn’t always the case, of course, even when the technology was there. Only one of Artur Rubinstein’s recitals, for example, was thus preserved, but it was a prime example of the legendary pianist’s art.

That was a benefit concert presented to an invited audience at Ambassador Auditorium in January, 1975, and now available on laser disc as “The Last Recital for Israel” (BMG Classics). The occasion was extraordinary and so was the playing.

“The master was in a rare mood, a mood of Olympian insights and penetrating eloquence,” wrote Albert Goldberg in The Times. “If he had intended this for a last will and testament, it could hardly have been more to his liking or more secure insurance for such immortality as any performer is allowed.”

Rubinstein is still much with us in audio recordings, but this video embodies his music in a presence of majestic simplicity and humanity. Until the encores and a final presentation from Ambassador founder Herbert W. Armstrong, the cameras stick devotedly to their subject, the shifting views and infrequent superimpositions for once thoroughly engaging the eye without alienating the ear or mind.

This recital also offers a repertory bonus in the form of an exquisitely shaded group from Debussy--”Ondine,” “La plus que lente” and the Prelude from the “Pour le piano” suite--a composer not generally associated with Rubinstein. The rest of the program, played with heroic imagination, includes Beethoven’s “Appasionata” Sonata, Schumann’s “Fantasiestucke,” a generous Chopin sampler and Mendelssohn’s “Spinning Song.”

For a feast of visual imagination, the current crop of laser discs includes Ken Russell’s film “The Planets,” No. 6 in the ClassicVisions series from BMG. Created for London Weekend Television’s South Bank Show almost 10 years ago, and using a recording of the Holst score from Eugene Ormandy and the Philadelphia Orchestra as the soundtrack, neither sights nor sounds are up to modern digital standards technically.

But the live-action imagery is manipulated with considerable sophistication, and quite alert to the rhythm of the music. Russell saved his best tricks for the finale, “Neptune, the Mystic,” a suitably kaleidoscopic tour de force.

Russell also folds considerable social commentary into his film. He’s never afraid of the obvious--witness the Riefenstahlesque Nazis on parade in “Mars, the Bringer of War”--but also works with subtle, ironic wit. Watch as the aloof nudes of “Venus, the Bringer of Peace” become domesticated, the process ending in a Barbie Doll, or appreciate the sardonic reference to the doomed dinosaurs of “Fantasia” in the planned obsolescence of autos marching to the wrecking yards in “Saturn, the Bringer of Old Age.”

Pure kinetic energy is the subject of the best numbers in “Red Star,” a concert performance of the Red Army Chorus and Dance Ensemble at the Tchaikovsky Hall in Moscow, from April of this year (Teldec Video). The chorus sings sentimental favorites suavely, their stolid ranks rather blankly pictured, but the action is all with the colorfully costumed dancers, featuring an athletic male contingent of remarkable leapers in Russian and Ukrainian folk material.

Straight concerts abound on laser disc, but few yoke satisfying music-making with an evocative visual sense of place as effectively as a performance of Dvorak’s Symphony No. 8 From Andre Previn and the Berlin Philharmonic (BMG Classics). Recorded three years ago, the interpretation combines mellow warmth with pointed energy, the playing virtually defines modern orchestral virtuosity--particularly in the massive, clarion dignity of the brass--and the roving cameras capture a feeling of the striking Philharmonie hall in Berlin.

The emphasis is on the colorful Berlin woodwinds in the substantial couplings, Dvorak’s Opus 44 Serenade and Beethoven’s Opus 103 Octet. Here the video--recorded a year later--moves to the sumptuous setting of Sanssouci Castle in Potsdam.

“The Last Recital for Israel,” 1992, BMG Classics: 1 disc; 1 hour 44 minutes; 24 chapter stops; $ 30 .

“The Planets,” ClassicVisions6, 1992, BMG Classics: 1 disc; 50 minutes; 9 chapter stops .

“Red Star,” 1992, Teldec Video: 1 disc; 1 hour 29 minutes; 21 chapter stops; $ 35 .

“Dvorak, Symphony No. 8 and Serenade; Beethoven, Octet” 1992, BMG Classics: 1 disc; 1 hour 33 minutes; 17 chapter stops; $ 30 .

‘Peace on Earth’ a Visual Treat

Visually, “Peace on Earth: A Bavarian Christmas” rises effectively above its traditional, often-recorded musical material. The cameras follow two children around Nuremberg’s festive streets, inside homes for glowing scenes of seasonal toys and foods, and into the luminous setting of the Church of St. Lawrence. The town itself, and its rural surroundings, also provide a wealth of evocative images.

That ties together a conservative collection of musical snippets. The repertory follows the visual moves, from chamber music--flutist James Galway and recorder virtuosa Michala Petri in blithe performances--through a cappella carols warmly sung by the choir of the Dresden Kreuzkirche, to cathedral majesty and radiance for oratorio excerpts.

Francisco Araiza heads the distinguished vocal soloists in spirited but uneven singing. Enoch zu Guttenberg conducts members of the Bamberg Symphony and the Neubeuern Choral Society in modern instrument accounts of the Bach and Handel outtakes, plus some less anticipated French pieces--unexceptional in style and pacing but rich in emotional resonance and projection.

“Peace on Earth: A Bavarian Christmas,” 1992, BMG Classics: 1 disc; 1 hour 17 minutes; 25 chapter stops.