The budget-price reissue of Jeffrey Tate’s set of Haydn’s twelve 
                ‘London’ symphonies is now complete: Nos. 94, 95 and 97 on Encore 
                3 55679 2; 96 and 98 on Encore 3 
                41428 2; 99 and 101 on Encore 3 88666 2; 100 and 103 on Encore 
                3 72472 2 and now 102 and 104 on this CD. Nos. 94, 95, 97, 99 
                and 101 are also due to appear shortly on a 2-CD Classics for 
                Pleasure set (5 21855 2, around £8 in the UK). 
                
Taken 
                  on their own, Tate’s readings of Nos. 102 and 104 live up to 
                  the generally positive reviews which greeted them twenty years 
                  ago – well-chosen tempi, light and crisp playing and warm, well-balanced 
                  recording. 
                
              
At 
                bargain price (£6 or less in the UK) they offer good value, especially 
                those CDs which contain three symphonies, but the complete set, 
                spread over five single CDs, is less economical than EMI’s own 
                rival Beecham set on two Gemini 2-CD sets (5 85770 2 and 5 85513 
                2, MusicWeb Bargain of the Month, each at around £8.50 
                in the UK – see review) 
                and Colin Davis’s Concertgebouw recordings on two Philips Duo 
                sets (442 611-2 and 442 614-2). The Beecham is set is also available 
                in a 6-CD box together with The Seasons (3 67893 2, at 
                around £22 in the UK – see review). 
                
Beecham’s 
                  recordings, of course, are in a category of their own: where 
                  others abide our question, he remains free, to paraphrase Wordsworth 
                  on Shakespeare. He employed an outdated edition of the Haydn 
                  symphonies, took repeats as and when he felt like it, added 
                  the kitchen sink and everything he had to Handel’s Messiah, 
                  often rehearsed in the most perfunctory manner – yet the result 
                  is pure gold. One of my earliest encounters with Haydn’s London 
                  symphonies was on a Beecham mono version of Nos. 93 and 94, 
                  a CBS recording issued in the UK on the Philips Classical Favourites 
                  label, still available on mid-price Sony SMK89890, coupled with 
                  No.103. Later I bought his stereo LP of Nos. 103 and 104 – a 
                  major purchase at full price for an impecunious undergraduate 
                  – and I would never want to be without his recordings of some 
                  of these symphonies. 
                
It 
                  is, however, with the more modern recordings of Colin Davis 
                  and (in No.104) Dorati that I shall be comparing these Tate 
                  recordings. Dorati’s performances are now, unfortunately, available 
                  only in the 33-CD complete set, apart from the 2-CD set of the 
                  Paris symphonies and a budget-price Eloquence single CD coupling 
                  94, 100 and 101 (467 405 2). Look around, however, and you may 
                  still be able to find a copy of 460 628-2, a recommendable mid-price 
                  coupling of Nos. 94, 100 and 104. 
                
A 
                  comparison of his timings for No.104 with Dorati and Davis indicates 
                  how much slower Tate is in every movement except the finale. 
                  Tate’s 9:38 for the first movement is a minute longer than Dorati 
                  and Davis, his 9:41 for the second movement a minute and a half 
                  longer than both his rivals, who take an identical 8:08. In 
                  the third movement he is a mere six seconds longer than Dorati 
                  – Davis is brisker than either by half a minute – and in the 
                  finale he actually undercuts Dorati by six seconds and Davis 
                  by five. 
                
The 
                  slow introduction to No.104 is rather ponderous, almost Beethovenian; 
                  the lightness of the opening bars of the Allegro provides 
                  an attractive contrast but I would still have preferred a faster 
                  tempo for the movement as a whole, for all the fine articulation 
                  of the playing. Dorati’s much brisker slow introduction actually 
                  seems to be making more of a statement about its own importance 
                  than Tate’s. The opening of the Allegro section is just 
                  as light as Tate’s and he moves the music along more convincingly. 
                  His orchestra, the Philharmonia Hungarica, may not be the equal 
                  of the ECO or the Concertgebouw, but there is nothing to fault 
                  in their playing here. 
                
Davis’s 
                  slow introduction is perhaps the least overtly impressive of 
                  the three, smaller in scale than either Tate or Dorati, but 
                  with beautiful contrast between the louder and softer sections. 
                  The Allegro almost slides in unnoticed, beautifully softly; 
                  though the Concertgebouw is the largest orchestra of the three, 
                  they achieve some wonderfully gentle playing. Their take on 
                  this movement is more refined and civilised; this might be thought 
                  to be somewhat at the expense of liveliness, but there is plenty 
                  of room for that later. This is, after all, merely marked Allegro, 
                  unlike the first movements of some of the other London symphonies 
                  (Allegro Vivace for No.102, Allegro con spirito 
                  for 103).
                
Refinement 
                  is also the watchword for the other movements of this symphony 
                  in Davis’s interpretation, with some beautifully lilting playing. 
                  One would hardly think this was the Concertgebouw; they play 
                  as delicately as any chamber orchestra – if anything, even more 
                  so than the ECO for Tate – but they give an appropriately large-scale 
                  account of the finale. With analogue recording which hardly 
                  shows its age, this is the version of No.104 to which I return, 
                  with Dorati an honourable silver medallist, another analogue 
                  recording very little inferior to the digital EMI, and Tate 
                  a very acceptable bronze. 
                
In 
                  the finale Tate is marginally preferable to either of his competitors 
                  – a lively, dancing movement to round off the symphony, lighter 
                  than either of the others. If the whole symphony had been of 
                  this quality, I might have had to reverse my order of merit. 
                  As it is, no-one who is introduced to this symphony by any one 
                  of these recordings need feel short-changed. 
                
Colin 
                  Davis’s version of No.102 appears on the same Duo set as his 
                  No.104 (442 611-2). Here I felt honours rather more even. The 
                  EMI engineers appear to have decided to restore the repeats 
                  in the second and third movements for this reissue, hence, presumably, 
                  the considerable discrepancies in the stated and actual timings 
                  of these movements referred to below. The stated timings of 
                  6:35 and 5:40 are only a little slower than Davis’s, but the 
                  actual times of 8:32 and 8:15 make these movements more substantial. 
                  Tate’s slow introduction is far less ponderous than that for 
                  No.104 and his Allegro vivace is really lively, as is 
                  his exuberant vivace finale. Not that these qualities 
                  are absent from the Davis version – far from it. 
                
Whether 
                  to observe all repeats in movements two and three is partly 
                  a matter of practicality – the Davis recording would have over-stretched 
                  the 2x2-CD format if all repeats had been included – but also 
                  one of scale. My personal feeling is that, since these are comparatively 
                  large-scale symphonies, on a par with Mozart’s Nos. 39-41, it 
                  is right to include them; I didn’t feel that either movement 
                  outstayed its welcome at Tate’s hands. 
                
No.102 
                  is perhaps the least-known of the later London Symphonies, since 
                  it lacks a nickname. If No.101 had not already been nicknamed 
                  The Clock, the name might have gone to No.102, especially 
                  when the playing of the slow movement ticks along as Tate’s 
                  does here. In fact, as the notes point out, we now know that 
                  this was the symphony performed on the night when the chandelier 
                  crashed down at the Haymarket Theatre, miraculously without 
                  injuring anyone, so this symphony ought now to be known as The 
                  Miracle, not No.96, to which the honour has traditionally 
                  gone. Actually, both are miracles of composition, as are all 
                  the London symphonies. As performed here by Tate and the ECO, 
                  No.102 would certainly have a strong claim to the title. 
                
              
The 
                original EMI CD tracked the slow introductions to the first movement 
                of each symphony separately, which may be useful for music lecturers, 
                though I cannot see any other point in it. The booklet and the 
                insert still indicate five tracks for No.102, with the slow introduction 
                given separately; in fact this Encore reissue runs to nine tracks 
                only – four for No.102, one for each movement, and five for No.104, 
                with a separate track for the introduction of 104 only. The timings 
                given are also incorrect – massively so for No.102, which is actually 
                almost five minutes longer than indicated. I recently had cause 
                to take Regis to task for wildly incorrect track information on 
                their 2-CD Tallis Portrait; I certainly hardly expected a major 
                label like EMI to confuse purchasers in this way. The 
                correct track and time information is: 
              
Symphony 
                No. 102
              
1.       
                Largo 
                – Allegro vivace [8:18]
                2.       
                Adagio 
                [8:32]
                3.       
                Menuetto: 
                Allegro & Trio [8:15]
                4.       
                Finale: 
                Vivace [4:53]
              
              Symphony No. 104
                
              
5.       
                Adagio – [2:22]
                6.       
                Allegro 
                [7:16]
                7.       
                Andante 
                [9:41]
                8.       
                Menuetto 
                : Allegro & Trio [5:15]
                9.       
                Finale: 
                Allegro spiritoso [6:43]
              
 Total 
                time 61:18, not 56:24, as stated. 
                
                I wish I were optimistic that EMI would correct these mistakes.  
                If you already have 
                the Davis or Beecham sets, this reissue will make a useful supplement. 
                If you don’t yet know the London symphonies, this CD makes an 
                excellent introduction to them, but be warned – having heard it, 
                you are likely to want more, in which case the Beecham or Davis 
                two 2-CD sets will be more economical.  
              
The 
                notes are more than adequate – much better than usually provided 
                for budget-price recordings, except by Naxos and Hyperion. The 
                information about the identity of the ‘true’ Miracle symphony 
                is not exactly hot off the press, but it does prove that Emi 
                have not just recycled some old material. Could we not have had 
                a rather larger reproduction of the Hogarth painting on the cover 
                and the inlay?
                
                Brian Wilson