Anton BRUCKNER (1824-1896)
Symphony No 8 in C minor, WAB 108 (1887/90 Mixed Version ed. Robert Haas 1939) [85:48]
Tokyo City Philharmonic Orchestra/Ken Takaseki
rec. live, 12 August 2020, Tokyo Opera City Concert Hall
TOWER/BRAIN OSBR-37016 [31:28 + 54:20]
The stream of fine Bruckner symphony recordings derived from live performance in Japan continues unabated. The conductor here, Ken Takaseki, was assistant to Karajan in Berlin, having won the Karajan Competition in Japan, and he also studied under Bernstein and Ozawa at Tanglewood, so he has an impressive pedigree. Unfortunately, it is immediately noticeable, especially when listening via headphones, that he has acquired a habit increasingly prevalent among conductors of singing and groaning along all too audibly – something for which in a recent review I also berated Tadaaki Otaka in his recording of the Third on Fontec. Obviously this indicates involvement but it is distracting.
Otherwise, this begins in the most promising manner: grand, authoritative, with a real sweep. There are one or two minor blips and intonational slips among the brass in the first movement but nothing of consequence and only to be expected and tolerated live - and they make up for that with some splendidly robust playing, especially in the conclusion of the first movement. Takaseki is measured and secure, his timings slightly undercutting Karajan and the VPO in the first two opening movements but taking considerably longer over both the Adagio and the finale. He manages the alternating waves of tension and release in the Scherzo with aplomb, the majesty of the Trio – a quality not usually associated with that interlude – is striking, and he then engineers a really vivid conclusion. However, something about the tuning and balance of the strummed, pulsing opening bars of the Adagio renders them prosaic; I miss the intangible sense of otherworldliness which the greatest conductors and orchestras generate. Takaseki takes nearly three minutes longer over Karajan in this movement and there are also stretches when the slowness of his beat reveals a lack of homogeneity and plushness in the strings’ ensemble and tension sags a little. For some reason, the minor intonation issues encountered in the first movement now start to become endemic and persist through to the end of the symphony. There is a stretch for a couple of minutes from 13:48 in, beginning with a really squawky figure on the violins, when their tuning becomes very shaky and would have called for a retake in a studio recording; then there are further moments when it again becomes very suspect, a failing again made more evident by the leisurely phrasing. There is still much to enjoy here including a stirring climax but I am measuring this against what I believe to be the greatest recordings of this greatest of symphonies, such as Karajan’s later version - and very few others can compare with that.
The finale is intermittently exciting but further tuning problems and the conductor’s increasingly obtrusive vocalisation continue to be problematic, while the slow tempi tend to make the movement sound episodic rather than unified in impact. The “Entry in Valhalla” conclusion comes off well, with the timpanist clearly enjoying himself, but even there the momentum of the music is rather stately and sporadic. After a decent interval, the audience applauds appreciatively.
Ultimately the cumulative effect of the flaws in this performance militates against a whole-hearted recommendation; established classic recordings of this edition from such as Karajan (BPO or VPO), Haitink (Dresden) and Wand (BPO or NDR) remain far better options.
Ralph Moore
This review has been reproduced here by kind permission of The Bruckner Journal.
