This fine bargain edition of live recordings of the complete Schubert symphonies
uses the new numbering now that it has been proved that the supposedly lost
Gmunden-Gastein symphony is the same as the “Great”, D.944. The latter was
formerly called the Ninth but is now known as Schubert’s Eighth and last
symphony. Correspondingly, the “Unfinished” is now the Seventh.
These interpretations are by and large more tense and taut than the genial,
relaxed manner typified by many previous, celebrated interpreters. At times
Maazel pushes hard and thus does not quite conjure the wit and charm that
Beecham brought to his Schubert. That said, these are beautifully played
performances, demonstrating that Maazel is a deft, alert and flexible Schubertian.
The woodwind and horns are especially grateful onthe ear; the recording
acoustic is slightly “fat” and boomy but warm. There’s barely a sound from
the audience. All sections of the orchestra are very well balanced.
The early symphonies are not necessarily masterpieces and contain nothing
especially memorable. Their free-flowing melodies occasionally flirt with
banality but Maazel brings out their wit, tunefulness and vivacity. He nicely
judges the triple-time dance rhythms which alternate with more dramatic
passages and conjures up the bitter-sweet melancholy so typical of Schubert’s
idiom. The youthful dynamism of the Allegro vivace finale to the
First Symphony carries over to the opening movement of the Second, making
me wonder if Mendelssohn was familiar with it. There is a kind of domestic
cosiness to the Andante, then the rustic Menuetto and Trio
and Presto vivace fourth movement are despatched with zest and
energy.
Beecham’s classic recording has long been the touchstone for the Third.
It seems to me that he achieves a more characterful and better shaped “maestoso”
opening than Maazel, encompassing more light and shade. Maazel strikes a
more serious and restrained pose, with heavy timpani thwacks on the downbeat
in the Allegretto. This is suggestive of a certain solemn, Beethovenian
seriousness but also borrows that composer’s propulsion and drive. The Menuetto
and finale are both taken much faster than Beecham and as such are of a
piece with Maazel’s more dynamic interpretative stance. I was further surprised
to find myself preferring the clarity of Beecham’s 1958/59 recording, despite
its age and hiss. With Maazel I miss Beecham’s touches, such as his knowing
little hesitations. To me, this is the least successful in Maazel’s survey
of these symphonies.
Maazel’s treatment of the Fourth is urgent and vital, especially hard-driven
in the Allegretto of the fourth movement, culminating in a thrilling
prestissimo climax. In the Allegro of the Fifth, again, fleetness
is the predominant characteristic at the expense of charm. Beecham takes
a more measured, nuanced approach affording him the more time to make points
while Maazel skates over the music. On the other hand, Maazel adopts a dreamier,
more affectionate manner in the Andante. This movement proves the
exception to Maazel’s generally brisker tempi but he reverts to type in
the propulsive Allegro vivace which concludes the work.
This general sprightliness pays off in the Andante of the Sixth
which is truly flowing, whereas Beecham’s chosen speed is decidedly closer
to an Adagio and drains the movement of energy. The final movement
is hardly “moderato” but the scurrying Bavarian strings are fully up to
their conductor’s demands and take the audience on a breath-taking ride.
This serves to heighten the similarity between its main theme and the Allegro
vivace of the Eighth. Maazel is taking liberties here but I think he
has found a solution to preventing that last movement sounding trite. Beecham
opts instead for a more measured, ironic and whimsical approach.
For all the incidental delights in the first six symphonies, any complete
set must stand or fall by the quality of the Seventh and Eighth, especially
as truly satisfying recordings of the latter are not exactly numerous. I
have always favoured Szell and Barbirolli until I recently discovered the
live performance by Knappertsbusch with the VPO in 1957. That has become
my new favourite, although all three are very fine.
Maazel’s performance of D.944 brings weight and grandeur to the tutti sections
of the first movement but I would like to hear sharper articulation of the
dotted rhythm opening to the Andante con moto. The Scherzo
is first swift then sweetly fluid but Maazel’s treatment of the second subject
is almost casual, prefiguring a kind of rustic Schwung more redolent of
Dvorák. Other conductors (Barbirolli and Kna) make less of a contrast between
the subjects or take the whole thing at more of a lick (Szell). Maazel establishes
a more telling contrast. He gives us a convincing, coherent vision.
The performance of D.759 is graced by gorgeous instrumental tone in every
department. The opening is rather more deliberately played than with Szell,
who creates a more arresting sense of brooding mystery whereas Maazel goes
for a mood of nervous tension; he is also more attentive to dynamics. He
opts at 3:31 to take the three minute repeat and majestically executes the
disturbing middle section when a succession of weighty chords introduces
the search to regain the home key. The Andante con moto is delightful;
lyrical and bucolic - especially so in the development section where the
woodwind are prominent.
There is much to enjoy here and this makes an excellent complete edition,
even if individual recordings do not necessarily supersede established favourites.
Ralph Moore
Much to enjoy here … an excellent complete edition.
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