The combination of the right repertoire and 
                the engineering wizardry of HDTT has proven to be a killer combination 
                in the relatively brief time this company has been releasing back-catalogue 
                recordings. Reviews on this website alone in recent weeks have 
                been full of praise for their revivification of famous performances 
                of Mahler’s 
First 
                and 
Third 
                Symphonies conducted by Horenstein as well as 
de 
                Falla’s The 
                three cornered hat from 
                Frühbeck de Burgos. My own first-hand experience has included 
                
a 
                magnificent Shostakovich Cello 
                Sonata from 
                Daniel Shafran and a 
Karajan/Richard 
                Strauss disc that made it into my half-dozen ‘best of the 
                year’. So it was with considerable hope and expectation that I 
                looked forward to listening to this recording - previously unknown 
                to me - of Bruckner’s towering 
Symphony No. 9 in D minor 
                from Carl Schuricht and the Vienna Philharmonic. Where possible 
                HDTT try to source commercial reel-to-reel material but when that 
                medium is unavailable – as apparently here – they use pristine 
                LPs. This performance was recorded for EMI in 1961 and since then 
                has reappeared in numerous incarnations on LP including the bargain, 
                but much loved, CFP label. I have no doubt that the re-mastering 
                engineers have extracted every available iota of recorded information 
                and the disc sounds reasonably well although there is a persistent 
                low rumble that becomes noticeable while listening over headphones. 
                However, in this instance it would be wrong to suggest that they 
                have been able to achieve the quantum improvements in audio quality 
                that has marked their work elsewhere. The Vienna Philharmonic 
                as recorded for EMI in 1962 has none of the bloom and rich warmth 
                that characterises their sound as captured by Decca for example 
                at exactly the same time. We speak a lot about the ‘sound’ of 
                an orchestra but far less often about the sound of a record label. 
                Clearly EMI in Austria in the early 1960s were technically inferior 
                to Decca. The stereo sound-stage is quite crudely split left to 
                right with little front to back depth. Yes the horns are powerfully, 
                if somewhat raucously caught, but similarly the woodwind – a particularly 
                sour oboe – have an edge and a synthetic prominence that destroys 
                much of Bruckner’s organ-like chord voicings. 
                
                None of which would matter to any degree were the performance 
                of such stature as to disarm criticism. Regretfully, I would have 
                to say that this remains a resolutely earthbound and stubbornly 
                unmystical Ninth. Now for sure, I understand that in the intervening 
                half century since this was recorded we have become ever more 
                beguiled by the Karajan-led and richly upholstered ‘heavenly’ 
                Bruckner but even in the age of austere authenticity this comes 
                across as a pretty plain reading. Yet herein lies my real frustration 
                with Schuricht’s interpretation. If, throughout, we were presented 
                with the notes and nothing but the notes one could argue that 
                we were being given an austere vision. But no, in the midst of 
                a brisk traversal - he completes the first movement in 20:09 (even 
                Walter in his famously no-nonsense 1959 Columbia SO version takes 
                23:54) - Schuricht suddenly, and in defiance of any kind of musical 
                logic he might be trying to create, extends anacrucis beats (creating 
                5/4 bars almost in a 4/4 passage) and adds pauses and extended 
                rallentandi where none are marked. At best it sounds mannered; 
                at worst perverse. Take the very opening; after 4 bars of a pedal 
                tremolando D in the strings the 8 horns intone a little fanfare 
                figure based on a D minor triad. Crucially the pickup note is 
                a semi-quaver (16
th note). This is answered by the 
                trumpets and timpani quietly repeating the tonic Ds in a heavier 
                quaver (8
th) note pattern as if to emphasise the tonic. 
                Schuricht allows his horns to elongate the pick-up semiquaver 
                and the contrast is lost. Jochum, also on EMI, with the Dresden 
                Staatskapelle perfectly delineates this tiny difference but in 
                that single instant - it does repeat throughout the movement and 
                Bruckner is exceptionally careful with his rhythmic definition 
                - he achieves a tension and momentum beyond Schuricht; this from 
                a conductor whom the liner-notes tells us; “... invented a clear, 
                almost objective style of conducting, based on fast tempos and 
                flexible but cleanly articulated orchestral playing …”. Take another 
                example from the first movement – rehearsal letter D in the Eulenburg/Nowak 
                edition score [3:57]: the marking 
langsamer allows Schuricht 
                to indulge in some swooning phrasing that for me totally undermines 
                the bedrock of the music. In the spirit of comparing like with 
                like I referred mainly to the Walter/Columbia Symphony Orchestra 
                recording still available at bargain price. This performance does 
                for me fulfil the ideal of passionate objectivity (some comically 
                approximate timpani tuning apart) and even the ‘standard’ CD transfer 
                seems superior to the EMI LP-sourced engineering offered here. 
                Take the passage mentioned above – Walter phrases beautifully 
                but with an essential simplicity that seems truer to the spirit 
                of Bruckner – more of the open air and fields than the lace handkerchief 
                drawing room ballad of Schuricht. 
                
                The second movement Scherzo marked 
Bewegt, lebhaft is as 
                vehement and possessed as any music Bruckner ever wrote. Schuricht 
                is a good minute faster than Walter but a half minute slower than 
                Jochum. But timing tells only part of the story; Walter’s tempo 
                allows the music to stamp like some great giant’s clumsy dance 
                with the repeated brass chords grinding against each other as 
                a musical volcano threatens to erupt. Conversely Jochum is full 
                of malevolent glee – his pizzicato strings playfully outlining 
                their diminished chords and the brass spikily articulating the 
                clashing harmonies. Schuricht literally lies somewhere between 
                but to my ears without the personality of either. The trio of 
                this movement is unusual in that it is marked to be played faster 
                than the material that precedes it. All three of the versions 
                here maintain this tempo relationship but Jochum pushes his Dresden 
                orchestra along at an extraordinary speed – which results in a 
                rather soupy slowing into the trio second subject at B. Schuricht 
                does the same, unmarked, slowly but compounds this ‘sin’ by then 
                indulging in more arch phrasing. Walter, positively serene and 
                almost Schubertian in the opening of the trio is able to sail 
                into the second subject with a graceful turning of the musical 
                corner but a logical maintenance of his basic tempo thereby ensuring 
                a structural coherence to the movement. 
                
                As is well documented Bruckner struggled to complete the finale 
                of this symphony for most of the last decade of his life. I often 
                wonder whether part of this struggle was due to the fact that 
                at the close of the third movement 
Langsam feierlich he 
                had achieved one of the towering high points of music and was 
                at a loss as to quite where to go next. The music moves from yearning 
                to doubt and conflict through to a radiant conciliatory close. 
                The movement centres on E as its tonality which is about as far 
                away from the ‘home’ key of D as it is possible to be but Bruckner 
                disturbs this immediately by having the first violins who open 
                the movement alone move from a B to a C natural an octave and 
                a semitone above. They are directed to stay on the same (low) 
                G string for this leap which instantly creates a dramatic and 
                achingly poignant opening. Schuricht, in obeying the 
markig, 
                breit direction, makes the phrase clumsily pointed. Walter 
                seamlessly flows through the notes – only the essential timbre 
                telling you his players are still on their G strings. It is Jochum 
                here who maximises the drama – having delivered the fleetest Scherzo 
                his is now the slowest third movement – an extraordinary seven 
                minutes behind Schuricht. In essence he chooses to feel 8 quavers 
                in each bar, Schuricht prefers the crochet pulse. In lesser hands 
                than Jochum the results would be turgid but he has the flawless 
                long-spanning control and his players the technical resource to 
                make this utterly compelling. Schuricht seems almost perfunctory 
                by his side. It is Walter in this movement who finds the middle 
                way – quite literally - clocking in at 23 minutes. The climax 
                of the movement is the famous chord where Bruckner piles semitonal 
                clashes on top of each other – it’s a moment of chaos and collapse 
                BUT Bruckner did just write it as a crochet with a pause on the 
                following silent beat. Schuricht, maddeningly, extends the clashing 
                chord and then all but eliminates the silent pause. The drama 
                should surely be that the implication of that chord is left to 
                hang in the following silence – a sense of ‘whither now?’. Jochum 
                slightly extends the chord but is already at a significantly slower 
                tempo. His great triumph here is the shocked frozen silence that 
                follows – and his Dresden brass are more able to unleash a true 
                triple 
fff in the immediately preceding passage than their 
                Vienna counterparts of 1962. Walter holds the chord a fraction 
                too long and does not make as much of the pause as he might but 
                it is still a major improvement on Schuricht. The ‘whither now’ 
                proves to be this incredible ascent leaving behind earthly things 
                – Bruckner throws in little thematic references to his own Third, 
                Eighth and Seventh Symphonies here as well as his 
Mass in D 
                – before, with one last gesture of farewell, the four horns 
                rise to a richly-voiced E major chord from the full brass over 
                pizzicato strings. Schuricht’s Vienna horns cannot quite get the 
                chord to settle – something that causes no problems for Jochum 
                or Walter. One last irritation – the horns should come off with 
                the strings final pizzicato; Schuricht allows them a good extra 
                four seconds overhang. There is no justification for this in the 
                score and adds to the fact that the placing of the three pizzicato 
                chords bear no relation to the tempo of the previous passage at 
                all. My incomprehension is complete. 
                
                Clearly, this is a performance that has been in and out of the 
                catalogue a lot in the last five decades so it must resonate for 
                others more than myself. HDTT believe it to be a performance worthy 
                of their considerable expertise and I feel part of the restoration 
                process should be some kind of historical comment on this specific 
                performance and why it was chosen. Likewise, wherever the information 
                is available, I think collectors drawn to this type of recording 
                would enjoy having information about original recording producers, 
                dates and venues as well as the detailed information of the mastering 
                equipment used that is present – the information I have given 
                above is not present on the CD. I notice from the www.abruckner.com 
                website that there have been at least six other recordings of 
                this work conducted by Schuricht although this is probably the 
                most commercially available now and historically. So a work he 
                obviously cared about deeply, but a vision of the work I do not 
                share. 
                
                When reviewing other releases of this label I have lamented certain 
                elements of the presentation of these discs which simply do not 
                measure up to the quality of the engineering/restoration that 
                has been achieved. So it is again here, the liner-notes are presented 
                on a light-weight card fold-over and consist of a not very well 
                written or informative ‘analysis’ (I use the inverted commas advisedly) 
                of the work as well as the brief pen portrait of the conductor 
                I quoted from above. The cover art-work set on an unappealing 
                mustard coloured background adds nothing to the experience. This 
                is being promoted as a premium product to discerning collectors 
                and it should be presented as such. As I hope I have made clear 
                I have nothing but praise for the restoration that the HDTT engineers 
                have achieved. One big flaw that was present on the Strauss disc 
                I mentioned before is repeated here – the ridiculously short gap 
                between movements. In a work of this epic nature you need at least 
                ten seconds between movements. Here we do not get even two. If 
                not this performance I would urge collectors to seek out the best 
                of the HDTT catalogue because when the music-making matches the 
                quality of the engineering the results are stupendous. Unless 
                you hold this version of Bruckner’s transcendent symphony close 
                to your heart this would not be the place to start that exploration. 
                
Nick Barnard 
 
                  [NOTE: In the press copy sent for review two of the movements 
                  were reversed in order. HDTT assure us this will be corrected 
                  before sale]