The Royal Stockholm Philharmonic Orchestra and IMG Artists present an exclusive deluxe 8CD box set edition celebrating the Royal Stockholm Philharmonic and its century-long national and international tradition. The box offers a unique collection of recordings dating from 1934-1978 with more than 10 hours of music. Here the orchestra plays under legendary names like Arturo Toscanini, Fritz Busch, Leopold Stokowski, Bruno Walter, Wilhelm Furtwängler, Pierre Monteux and Rafael Kubelik, together with their Swedish counterparts Tor Mann, Sixten Ehrling and Herbert Blomstedt.
In 1956, Bernard Haitink conducted the Concertgebouworkest for the first time and together they would play more than 1,500 concerts across the globe. Besides his modesty, his humanity, his musical taste, and his honesty to the music, three words come to mind when one thinks of Haitink and his orchestra: Sound, Trust and Magic. Jörgen van Rijen, Principal trombone of the Concertgebouworkest, said at a memorial concert in February this year, “Every time with him [Haitink] the orchestra sounded warmer, deeper and richer, from the first moment he started to rehearse. How he did that is difficult to tell … he always gave us musicians the feeling he trusted you, that he was there to help, not to interfere.”
In 1956, Bernard Haitink conducted the Concertgebouworkest for the first time and together they would play more than 1,500 concerts across the globe. Besides his modesty, his humanity, his musical taste, and his honesty to the music, three words come to mind when one thinks of Haitink and his orchestra: Sound, Trust and Magic. Jörgen van Rijen, Principal trombone of the Concertgebouworkest, said at a memorial concert in February this year, “Every time with him [Haitink] the orchestra sounded warmer, deeper and richer, from the first moment he started to rehearse. How he did that is difficult to tell … he always gave us musicians the feeling he trusted you, that he was there to help, not to interfere.”
For some bands, sticking to the same sound for the better part of two decades might be a sign of musical stagnancy. For King Kong, it's more a case of not messing with a good thing. Aside from 2002's spacy electronic epic The Big Bang, Ethan Buckler and company haven't changed their sound or goals much since the late '80s, opting instead to make albums that are high on quirky concepts and surprisingly danceable grooves and low on pretension. Buncha Beans, King Kong's first album in five years, continues down this well-worn path, serving up more friendly, literate oddities without ever seeming too predictable.