No luxuriating in full orchestral sonority in the opening 
                forte chords of this 7th, just a quick sweep of the bow and on 
                with the job. Thus the stage is set for a purposeful, onward-moving 
                reading of the introduction.
              
So many performances of this symphony come to grief over the 
                rhythms in the first movement. If the first dotted 8th-note of 
                the pervasive dotted rhythm is allowed to get too short, the 3rd 
                and 6th 8th-notes of the bar are anticipated to sound like the 
                2nd and 4th 8th-notes of a bar of 2/4, the 6/8 spring is lost 
                and the movement just slogs. Tempo is crucial; beyond a certain 
                speed it is practically impossible to enunciate this rhythm correctly. 
                Very few performances avoid this trap entirely, the development 
                section being particularly vulnerable. Weingartner spells out 
                the rhythm on its first appearance with almost fanatical insistence; 
                thereafter there is exactly the right spring so that what seems 
                at first a steady pace builds up inexorably.
              The second movement is notable for the clarity with which the 
                various melodies and counter-melodies are presented. Weingartner 
                does not drive the music but lets it unfold naturally, as though 
                presiding over a chamber music group rather then an orchestra. 
                Swift, joyful scherzos are another Weingartner feature and this 
                one is no exception, with a gently carolled trio which is not 
                allowed to sag. The finale sets off at a tempo which lets us hear 
                all the notes, depending on inner vitality rather than furious 
                driving. Occasionally the movement runs ahead of the tempo but 
                the spontaneity is irresistible. In its day this performance had 
                to compete with the famous Toscanini New York version which many 
                critics still consider to be the greatest performance of this 
                symphony on record. Those who set store by humanity, depth of 
                feeling and tradition in the best sense of the word will feel 
                that Weingartner is not to be set aside lightly.
              The performance of the 8th Symphony is surely exceptional by 
                any standard. There is no question of this being a minor interlude 
                between the serious matters of nos. 7 and 9; the first movement 
                immediately impresses by its full-bloodedness, weighty but not 
                heavy, forward-moving but not over-driven. The "metronome" 
                movement is brisk and insistent rather than delicate. Weingartner 
                seems to suggest that, rather than making a joke of Maelzel's 
                invention, Beethoven is telling us that it got on his nerves; 
                thus the occasional bursts of real rage come to have a meaning. 
                After so many swift and bracing scherzos, Weingartner gives full 
                dignity and breadth to the one real minuet in all of the nine 
                symphonies. Quite exceptionally delicious are the horn and clarinet 
                exchanges in the trio, and when the strings take over with their 
                creamy Viennese sound you feel that the music was born to be played 
                by this orchestra. The finale is kept relatively steady, its main 
                theme entering furtively as though looking around to see if the 
                coast is clear before giving way to a great burst of joy. Weingartner's 
                subtle pacing of this movement, gathering hymn-like expressiveness, 
                exuberance and a certain mystery into one single sweep reveals 
                a truly great musician at work.
              Throughout these performances the Vienna wind are not always 
                infallible in their intonation but the strings are magnificent 
                in the clarity of their articulation and the precision with which 
                they place their accents. They are so again in the Egmont Overture, 
                which does not hang fire as I felt the recently-reissued Klemperer 
                version did; the listener is carried along by a powerful surge 
                of feeling. The two items recorded in London show that Weingartner's 
                essentially lean and transparent orchestral textures were a constant 
                feature of his work, no matter which orchestra he had before him. 
              
              Mark Obert-Thorn obtains sound from these recordings which is 
                as good as one dare hope for considering their age. I have an 
                idea that, the next time I listen to one of these symphonies purely 
                for pleasure, these are the versions I will play. This first Beethoven 
                cycle on disc still takes a lot of beating.
              Christopher Howell