The lyricism adopted by Korngold during his American exile has constantly been a source of derision amongst a musical intelligentsia that would prefer to keep art music discrete from Hollywood composers. One can never be certain why, since the film industry has boasted amongst its ranks some of the finest of the 20th century's composers, William Walton and Leonard Bernstein to name but two. Sadly, it seems to have more to do with snobbery than anything else. Because it is film music, it can never rise to the lofty heights of 'serious' art music and, like comparing Danielle Steele with Norman Mailer, film music, especially of the 1930s and 40s, is seen only as cliché-ridden and passé. Therefore Korngold's Violin Concerto had, and probably will continue to receive, a poor reception amongst the ranks of some music-lovers. But even though a personal response to film music was a likely outcome of Korngold's later work in art music, his fundamental style is nevertheless deeply rooted in the late-Romantic tradition of turn-of-the-century Vienna. Recommended to Alexander Zelimsky for lessons by Gustav Mahler, Korngold's works were widely performed by some of the greatest artists in Europe at that time. Since Walter, Fürtwangler and Kreisler were a few of many who were to fall under the spell of his musical genius, we should perhaps not be too quick to dismiss his works out of hand.

The Dallas Symphony Orchestra's performance of the Sinfonietta in B-flat major and the Violin Concerto, under the baton of Andrew Litton and featuring violin soloist Ulrike-Anima Mathé, presents two Korngold works, one early and one late. The Sinfonietta, completed when he was just fifteen, clearly exemplifies his early feel for melody and form, and this is equally prevalent in the Violin Concerto, composed three decades later on themes from three 1930s Hollywood films.

The Sinfonietta fares better in this recording than the Concerto. Both the orchestra and Litton seem to feel more at home with its carefully-devised structures than with the sumptuous rhapsody of the Concerto. The direction is both purposeful and driven - changes of dynamic and tempo are controlled and in places, as at the ending of the Scherzo, purely breathtaking. Similarly, the third movement, a sonorous and languid Molto Andante, with a sense of unity and direction, is full of subtle contrasts that are heightened here by a transparent and flexible sound. The excitement and vigour of the Finale is reflected in the playing, even though the slower sections contain a somewhat limited dynamic range. Overall, the performance is an exciting and colourful representation of the Viennese late-Romantic symphonic tradition.

Unfortunately, the same cannot be said of the Violin Concerto, which, although poised and heartfelt, lacks the same sense of musical commitment. The first movement, Moderato nobile, with its rhapsodic melody, needs drive and vigour, despite its sudden changes of tempo and dynamic. At times, however, the performance is static to the point of distraction and would-be listeners would do well comparing it with André Previn's masterful LSO recording with violinist Gil Shaham on Deutsche Grammophon (439 886-2); that contains a sense of direction and dialogue that Litton and Mathé lack, and bold sweeping statements are made almost effortlessly. Mathé is evidently a fine player, but her sound is neither rich nor full and not entirely suited to this work; Litton sounds as though he is compensating by holding back the orchestra for this very reason. The second movement fares a little better, but it is still slightly on the slow side, creating not a sense of contemplation, but rather a shall-we-or-shan't-we impression of nervous indecision. The Finale works much better and, for the first time in the performance, Mathé finally lets go of her inhibitions, allowing Litton more leeway for interpretation. But again, it has neither the drive, vigour nor risk-taking factor of Previn's performance, despite containing some colourful and dynamic moments.

If only for the Sinfonietta, this disc is worthy of purchase; the performance is both uniquely flexible and colourful. There are better, less anxious performances of the Violin Concerto available, but the Litton-Mathé partnership here proves to be pedantic, and lacks both emotive content, passion and security.

Janet McClintock