Three other great recordings

Malcolm Sargent (conductor/narrator) Once attuned to Sargent’s condescending manner and his musicians’ generally dour expressions, the 1946 film’s masterful symbiosis between music, visuals and spoken word is compelling. Sargent’s commentary is mostly to the point, informative (for instance, about the differences between oboes and clarinets), and knows when to allow the visuals and the music to tell their own story. The slightly unconventional orchestral layout allows helpful closeups, and the viewer is guided through the orchestra sections by well-planned camera work. (Tony Palmer TPCD-DVD 196)

John Lanchbery (conductor)

Dame Edna Everage – ever so slightly mischievous yet fully engaged and enthusiastic – is an effortlessly entertaining and informative compère in this 1997 recording. She uses Crozier’s script with some judicious editing (‘sad’ instead of ‘plaintive’), occasionally throws in a ‘gorgeous’ (most appropriately describing the cellos’ tone here), and the crash and tumble by cymbals and bass drum elicits a surprised ‘Oh!’. The Melbourne

orchestra plays superbly under John Lanchbery (though the whip is a bit of a damp squib), with the fugue making a superb finish. (Naxos 8.554170)

Richard Hickox (conductor)

If just short of perfection (the cello variation is a touch effortful, and there’s a muffed tambourine flourish), Richard Hickox’s narrator-free account with the Bournemouth Symphony in 1993 is unmatched for sheer charm and character. Like Britten, he sets off at a purposeful pace, the theme sounding proud and good-natured. In the following variations, Hickox finds more comedy than does even Britten – check out the balletic double basses, with whooping flutes and tambourines their enthusiastic cheerleaders. Excellently recorded, too. (Chandos CHAN 10784X)

And one to avoid…

Plenty of versions – often with narrations by adults trying to ‘get down with the kids’ – have had a short shelf life. One dud which hasn’t, though, presumably owes its longevity to the name of André Previn, a great musician who sounds jaded and bored when narrating his 1973 recording with the LSO. He does a grave disservice to anyone hoping to introduce their children to the wonders of the symphony orchestra.