When I turned 13, I was then getting interested in classical music – something that my parents didn’t really listen to, but my interest had been aroused by one of those inspiring teachers at school that we all too often believe only exist within Goodbye Mr. Chips or Dead Poet’s Society. With my birthday money in my pocket, I headed off to the local department store to buy an LP of the fifth symphony. I was a little naive in thinking that only one composer had written a fifth symphony, and so was a little traumatised when confronted by many different works with the same title. I had heard of Tchaikovsky, and so bought that one and headed home. Job done. Then I placed the LP on my record player and realised it didn’t sound a bit like the work I had heard (which was, of course, by Beethoven), but I fell in love with Tchaikovsky’s fifth symphony nonetheless, somehow absorbed by the while EMI Eminence label as it spun around, the informative liner notes (that I didn’t wholly understand at the time) and the painting on the front of the LP cover. The recording was the one contained in this boxed set.
A few years down the line, I came across Manfred, clearly part of the same series of LPs, and bought that too, and then some of the others as and when I came across them – which was more difficult back in the days before looking something up on Ebay and being given a choice of copies to buy. A few more years later, and I was converting to CD, and bought a different cycle of the Tchaikovsky symphonies, which I suppose I thought would sound the same no matter who was conducting. My Rostropovich LPs were disposed of, and I was left with a rather unsatisfying set of the music I had loved.
Eventually, the Rostropovich set on CD came my way but some symphonies were split over two discs – a ridiculous idea – and the artwork which had clearly first attracted me wasn’t there either. But it was a step in the right direction. A further step came last year, when Warner in Japan released the seven symphonies on seven individual discs but, alas, only the first three had the original artwork of the LP, and the other four just had a generic picture of Tchaikovsky (no idea why).
Now, with this current set, we are almost reaching perfection. No symphonies are split over two discs, and the artwork of the LPs can be found on the front of the cardboard sleeves containing each CD. There is one exception (hence the “almost” perfection) in that the first two LPs are combined onto one CD and so only the artwork from one LP is retained. It’s a shame the missing artwork wasn’t used for the front of the box, but this is, I think, good enough. Why, at 43 years of age, LP artwork matters to me so much, I have no idea. Perhaps a mid-life crisis as I yearn for the things that gave me pleasure in my youth. Perhaps I’m just a sentimental old fool (and that is the only explanation for me re-buying the 5th symphony on vinyl last year!).
But this is truly a wonderful (and ridiculously cheap) set. Rostropovich’s interpretations aren’t for everyone. But his passionate, emotional readings of these works sparked something in a 13 year old boy thirty years ago, something he has never ever forgotten – and if a recording can do that, then you can’t ask for much more. I fell in love with these recordings back then, and am just as much in love with them now as me and the Rostropovich Tchaikovsky cycle celebrate our Pearl anniversary. There are no plans for separation any time in the future, for there is enough passion in these six discs to sustain any relationship.