In Walde was the third of Raff’s eleven symphonies 
          and dates from the decade or so after he had finally unshackled himself 
          from his role in the circle of Franz Liszt in which he claimed inter 
          alia, maybe with some justification, to have been responsible for 
          orchestrating Prometheus and Tasso. In Walde was 
          written in 1869 and is couched in four movements written in three parts 
          – Part 2 is divided into two movements – each with a poetic superscription 
          in echt Romantic tradition. Despite its explicitly programmatic affiliations 
          and its exploration of that locus classicus of German Romanticism, the 
          Forest, the work remains fundamentally enjoyable purely in strict symphonic 
          terms. 
        
 
        
This disc was first issued on Marco Polo 8.223321 in 
          1991 and is another in Naxos’s budget price reissues. For the recording 
          the Slovak State Philharmonic was engaged, the principal orchestra in 
          the east of the country, under Urs Schneider. He certainly takes a measured 
          view of the opening Allegro and whilst it’s not without momentum it’s 
          without ostensible drive. There are some admirable orchestral contributions 
          – chirpy woodwind (in the best and most august Czech-Slovak tradition), 
          saturnine bassoon, some fine lower strings. Even without the generation 
          of vitesse Schneider does justice to the refinement and delicacy of 
          much of the orchestration and to the frequently sharp rhythmic snap 
          of the writing. The first movement of the second part, In der Dämmerung 
          and Träumerei, receives eloquent address from orchestra 
          and conductor. The firmly moving expression of the music is well conveyed 
          even if there is ultimately here an ultimate want of real lyrical intensity. 
          The Dance of the Dryads – which comprises that second part – 
          is very reminiscent of the scherzo from Mendelssohn’s A Midsummer 
          Night’s Dream; the Dryads are certainly less clod-hopping than in 
          the comparable Ghost’s Dance in the Tenth Symphony (see below) 
          and they are accompanied by rustic flute chirrups and much woodwind 
          chatter. Especially admirable is the impressive bassoonist’s delightful 
          line and the long breathed string melody. The finale (At Night) 
          is dramatic, trumpet punctuated and driving, full of hunting allegory 
          and mythological allusion but I’m afraid there seems to be a large cut 
          here, not noted in the booklet. The wrong tracking is a more minor problem 
          - there are eight tracks listed but only seven play thus conflating 
          the Dryad’s Dance and Finale and confusing everything 
          but this is a relatively minor matter. The excision is serious. 
        
 
        
The Tenth Symphony was written a decade later 
          in 1879, subtitled In Autumn. Scheider takes the opening of the 
          four movements at a good swinging Allegro moderato, with nice 
          orchestral attacks and emphases, the winds verdant and a real sense 
          of autumnal anticipation. In the Ghost’s Dance the billowing 
          double basses announce the appearance of the spectres – which at this 
          moderate tempo are more benevolent and sleepy than malevolent and saturnalian. 
          The heart of the Tenth is the beautiful Elegie-Adagio. It unfolds 
          here with eloquent expressivity, with simplicity and with direction, 
          the rise and fall of the lyric line handled with significant intensity 
          and skill by Schneider and the orchestra responding with more than usual 
          delicacy. Die Jagd announces a hunting finale – horns and chase 
          punctuated by moments of relaxation and reflectiveness in the affectionate 
          second subject. The oboist laces an exquisite solo followed by flute 
          tracery before the hunt collects itself once more and drives away to 
          a dynamic conclusion. 
        
 
        
I’m not quite sure where this leaves us. I enjoyed 
          the disc very much but the cut in the finale of the Third is a real 
          problem (and I don’t think it was necessary to fit the symphonies on 
          one disc, I rather think it was made for structural reasons by Schneider). 
          If you can live with it, fine; if not look elsewhere, but I’d certainly 
          recommend the Tenth. There’s some slight congestion and a rather backward 
          sound picture generally when it comes to recording quality but that’s 
          not problematical. Over to you. 
        
 
        
Jonathan Woolf