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            Ludwig van 
              BEETHOVEN (1770-1827)  
              Symphony No. 1 [25:31]  
              Symphony No. 2 [32:08]  
              Symphony No. 3 [49:46]  
              Symphony No. 4 [33:52]  
              Symphony No. 5 [31:57]  
              Symphony No. 5 [31:46] *  
              Symphony No. 6 [44:41]  
              Symphony No. 7 [39:59]  
              Symphony No. 8 [25:56]  
              Symphony No. 9 [69:57]  
              Piano Concerto No. 1 (cadenzas by Beethoven) [37:14]  
              Piano Concerto No. 1 (cadenzas by Glenn Gould) [34:45]  
              Piano Concerto No. 2 [28:48]  
              Fidelio (1814) [110:00]  
                
              Lars Vogt (piano)  
              Barbara Bonney (soprano), Birgit Remmert (alto), Kurt Streit (tenor), 
              Thomas Hampson (baritone)  
              Leonore (mezzo) – Angela Denoke; Florestan (tenor) – Jon Villars; 
              Don Pizarro (baritone) – Alan Held; Rocco (bass) – Laszlo Polgar; 
              Marzelline (soprano) – Juliane Banse; Jaquino (tenor) – Rainer Trost; 
              Don Fernando (bass-baritone) – Thomas Quasthoff;  
              Arnold Schoenberg Choir; Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra (Fidelio) 
              Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra (symphonies) 
              City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra (concertos)/ Sir Simon Rattle 
               
              City of Birmingham Symphony Chorus/Simon Halsey  
              rec. live, Musikverein, Vienna, December 2000, *Musikverein, Vienna, 
              April-May 2002, Butterworth Hall, University of Warwick, October 
              1995 (concertos) Philharmonie, Berlin, April 2003 (Fidelio) 
                
              EMI CLASSICS 4575732 [9 CDs: 10:00:00]   
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                This is the latest and, they tell us, the last of EMI’s Simon 
                  Rattle Edition, gathering together the conductor’s complete 
                  forays into certain composers and repertoire. As with any such 
                  project the sets hitherto released have contained both treasures 
                  and duds. Even though not everything here is perfect, this set 
                  sends the series out on a high with his complete Vienna recording 
                  of the Beethoven symphonies.  
                   
                  Not everyone has been convinced by Rattle’s 2002 Beethoven set, 
                  but I admit that I was sold on it from the start. Repackaged 
                  here at bargain price, even if the documentation is minimal, 
                  it makes an outstanding bargain and a fantastic purchase. The 
                  keynote of the set is energy: pulsating, crackling, electrifying 
                  energy. Rattle’s white-hot vision injects these scores with 
                  a level of vigour that I have seldom heard elsewhere on disc. 
                  In particular he relishes the punch and excitement of Beethoven’s 
                  rhythms. Unsurprisingly this approach works best in the Seventh 
                  where the relentlessness of the beat bounds off the page. The 
                  Scherzo, in particular, is unstoppable, while the first movement 
                  is expansive and majestic in its control. Ineluctable, unarguable 
                  logic characterises the unfolding of the Allegretto, secure 
                  in pacing and awesome in its scale, though next to all this 
                  the opening of the finale comes across as surprisingly slow. 
                   
                   
                  This approach also works brilliantly in the early works, particularly 
                  the Second which here comes across as a work of fully 
                  mature genius. The first movement positively crackles, recreating 
                  for me the infectious excitement of discovering these works 
                  – of hearing them for the first time. Similarly, the finale 
                  positively leaps out of the speakers, while the Larghetto 
                  is beautifully judged and gorgeously played. The First 
                  too is full of bustling energy and the Andante is taken 
                  at a fair lick, though this isn’t something Rattle does in all 
                  slow movements. In fact his attitude to period practice on the 
                  whole is fairly à la carte. The VPO’s playing is often 
                  brisk and transparent in the manner of smaller period bands, 
                  but there is no hint of the hair shirts that some period practitioners 
                  bring to this music: Rattle is happy to broaden out and revel 
                  in the beauty of the sound at key moments. On the other hand 
                  the playing is not just homogenous post-Romantic soup; there 
                  are plenty of moments that make you sit up and take notice as 
                  a particular element is highlighted by a touch such as vibrato-less 
                  strings, braying brass or occasional sforzandi. It is 
                  the selectiveness of these touches that makes them effective, 
                  meaning that for most middle-of-the-road listeners they will 
                  find this something to enjoy rather than to distract. As for 
                  the quality of the instrumental playing, with an orchestra of 
                  this stature it is outstanding. I could pick out occasional 
                  moments that stand out for their extra-special quality – the 
                  solo winds in the slow movement of the Fourth, for example 
                  – but there would be too many to make this a useful exercise. 
                  Discovering them for yourself is one of the great joys of this 
                  set.  
                   
                  What about those craggy masterpieces in the middle of the cycle? 
                  Be satisfied that in Rattle’s hands they are not merely safe; 
                  they are towering. He gives us an Eroica of stature and 
                  power. The playing carries tremendous weight and scale: this 
                  is clearly a symphony orchestra we are listening to. 
                  It also feels very live with its minor fluctuations of tempi 
                  and the sense of a conductor straining at the tiller to keep 
                  the great ship on course. There is an almighty sense of build 
                  to the funeral march while the scherzo romps along with titanic 
                  energy. The finale unfolds with logic and argument and the tempo 
                  broadens out majestically (and surprisingly) for a coda which 
                  marks a fitting culmination of not just the movement but of 
                  the entire work. The Fifth is vibrant and dramatic, the 
                  first movement incisive and visceral, while the finale blazes 
                  with a white-hot sheen. As a bonus we are also given Rattle’s 
                  earlier (2000) account of this symphony with the same orchestra. 
                  It’s interesting to compare the two, but the 2002 account is 
                  easily finer: it’s more dramatic, more live and has a better 
                  recording to help it on its way. Only in the transition to the 
                  finale and the emergence into sunlight at the start of the last 
                  movement does it start to rival the later set.  
                   
                  Only in the Pastoral does Rattle’s preference for the 
                  dramatic develop into a problem, the first two movements sounding 
                  taut and even a little strained in places. Things improve after 
                  this: the peasant wedding fairly frolics along and, after a 
                  terrifying storm, the shepherds’ hymn is broad and expansive. 
                  The Eighth, too, is relatively light on its feet with 
                  a satisfyingly big sound to its first and third movements and 
                  plenty of tongue-in-cheek humour to the second and fourth.  
                   
                  Rattle’s Ninth is evidently the climax of his cycle, 
                  not just chronologically but emotionally. Everything here seems 
                  calculated to produce an impact of shattering grandeur, from 
                  the first, stunning emergence of the opening movement’s main 
                  theme through to the headlong dash for the finishing line of 
                  the finale. Not everyone will love it: some will find his selective 
                  pauses irritating and others will quibble with his tempi and 
                  use of stresses, but I was fully convinced. The Scherzo bounds 
                  along with titanic power and, after this, the expansive tempo 
                  of the Adagio sounds daring and inventive. The finale 
                  comes with its own sense of scale, but Rattle’s pacing and control 
                  of the transitions allows it all to unfurl in a way that sounds, 
                  to me, unarguable. He is helped by a top-notch team of singers. 
                  His old friends from the CBSO Chorus guest star, demonstrating 
                  that they have lost none of the power that so distinguished 
                  his Mahler recordings, and his soloists are as starry a team 
                  as one could imagine. Thomas Hampson sings with poetry and refinement, 
                  not just gusto, and both ladies bring lyricism and breadth to 
                  their music. Kurt Streit, too, sounds convincingly perky in 
                  his “Turkish” episode.  
                   
                  So where does Rattle’s Beethoven set sit in the overall scheme 
                  of things? To my mind he carries the best of the old and the 
                  best of the new. He has a sense of structure and scale that 
                  harks back to Furtwängler and Karajan, while his lithe sense 
                  of movement contains the best of the period movement heard in, 
                  say, Norrington and Gardiner. It’s probably still true that 
                  the conductor who best encompasses both of these worlds is Harnoncourt 
                  in his set with the Chamber Orchestra or Europe, but Rattle’s 
                  sound is bigger and somewhat more Romantic. I recommend his 
                  set to anyone who hasn’t planted his flag squarely in the camp 
                  of either extreme. I certainly wasn’t disappointed.  
                   
                  The symphonies are undoubtedly the main reason for acquiring 
                  this set, but the other items are of value too. The CBSO plays 
                  with some fitting period (vibrato-less) twang for much of the 
                  two concertos, and Lars Vogt scales back his often big-boned 
                  playing to accompany in a style that is utterly sympathetic. 
                  Again, though, there is no hair-shirted asceticism in either 
                  orchestra or piano and this is still a performance of red-blooded 
                  vigour. Vogt plays like the master we know he is, and the cadenzas 
                  tickle the listener’s ear suggestively. As another bonus we 
                  are given two versions of the First Concerto: it’s the same 
                  recording but in one version we get Beethoven’s cadenzas and 
                  in the other those of Glenn Gould. Gould’s cadenza for the first 
                  movement is witty and almost Bachian and it works tremendously 
                  well, but his version is too frenetic in the finale, which Rattle 
                  already paces with frantic busyness. Still, it’s an interesting 
                  comparison. I wonder if this was the beginning of a complete 
                  set that never emerged? A pity, but then Rattle’s later achievement 
                  with Brendel takes some beating.  
                   
                  I have already written about Rattle’s Fidelio 
                  elsewhere in these pages. There’s really nothing to add to that, 
                  save to say that after a gap of a couple of years Rattle’s conducting 
                  seems less wilful and Denoke’s Leonore a little more amenable, 
                  but this performance still can’t hold a candle to the likes 
                  of Bernstein or Klemperer.  
                   
                  So if this is the last instalment in EMI’s Rattle edition then 
                  they have gone out on a high. Rattle flowered later in Beethoven 
                  than he did in, say, Mahler or Britten, but for me the results 
                  are every bit as satisfying and deserve comparison with the 
                  best. Throw in the super budget price and the decision makes 
                  itself.  
                   
                  Simon Thompson 
                 
             
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