Markevitch's performance, more than those by Stravinsky, Bernstein (1958), Boulez/Cleveland, Stravinsky himself, or Pierre Monteux (BSO, but in murky mono sound), convinced me that I was indeed hearing the soundtrack of a ritual. Bernstein, my previous favorite, is even more eruptive, but Markevitch hammers out the ostinatos with plenty of force. What impressed me with Markevitch is the absolutely implacable strictness of rhythm, and the way he brings out secondary phrases that start out consonant and beautiful, then curdle into acidic dissonance. As a result, quiet passages are imbued with foreboding of the explosions to come. One feels time unfolding as an impersonal force that drives toward the consummation of the sacrifice. I
Until I heard this, I thought Le Sacre, after a century of familiarity, had lost its power to shock. This account proves me wrong!. I now understand why there was a scandal at the première--it can't have been only because of Nijinsky's cancing,
Budget Compact Disc (No Jewel Box only Disc)
