Johannes BRAHMS (1833-1897)
Symphony No. 3 in F major, Op 93 (1883) [38:33]
Symphony No. 4 in E minor, Op 98 (1885) [42:04]
Gewandhausorchester Leipzig/Herbert Blomstedt
rec. April 2021, Gewandhaus, Leipzig
PENTATONE PTC5186852 [80:38]
This disc is the final instalment in Herbert Blomstedt’s Brahms symphony cycle with the Gewandhausorchester Leipzig. I greatly admired and enjoyed the team’s accounts of the First Symphony (review) and of the Second (review) and so I was eager to hear what they would make of the other two symphonies. In no way was I disappointed.
At the start of the Third Symphony, I very much like the way that Blomstedt ensures that the woodwind and brass get the prominence in the textures that Brahms surely intended. Observing the exposition repeat, Blomstedt leads the listener unerringly through the movement. The orchestra responds to his direction with great conviction and their collective sound is so right for Brahms. That last observation is also true of the Andante; I love the burnished, glowing orchestral sound. Once more, Blomstedt judges the music expertly. Come the finale, and Blomstedt takes a sturdy, very positive view of the first half of the movement; there’s lots of energy and rhythmic impetus in the performance. Then, the lovely extended wind-down (from around 7:00) has an air of nobility to it. These last few minutes, in which Brahms so subtly recalls and transforms the F – A flat – F motif heard right at the start of the symphony, should bring the work to a deeply satisfying conclusion; that’s most certainly the case here.
The reading of the Fourth Symphony is no less distinguished. The very opening is nicely relaxed but the performance soon gathers momentum and purpose. Yet again, we find Blomstedt judging the music expertly and he unfolds the movement in an ideal fashion. The Andante moderato blends melancholy and warmth in ideal proportions; this is a lovely, dedicated performance. By contrast, the Allegro giocoso is dynamic and urgent. The performance exudes vitality. It’s astonishing to reflect that Blomstedt was 93 years old at the time of this performance; the energy which he is able to impart into this music would suggest the work of a man fully thirty years younger. The finale is surely the pinnacle of Brahms’ exploits as an exponent of the variation form. In the space of 10 ½ minutes (in this performance) he presents no less than 30 compressed variations on the eight-bar bass theme. Blomstedt offers a terrific reading; the slow variations, beginning with the sad one led by the solo flute, are given just the right degree of space and elsewhere there’s bite and urgency in the music-making. The conclusion to the movement is trenchant and dynamic. Blomstedt’s performance of the Fourth may not have the drama and power of the recent – and superb - Honeck recording (review) but there are more ways than one to skin a Brahmsian cat and Blomstedt’s recording is very fine indeed.
I’m conscious that this is a fairly short review but these two performances really don’t need extensive commentary. As was the case with the first two instalments in the series, this disc offers interpretations and playing of great distinction: when I listen to either symphony in Herbert Blomstedt’s hands the music is presented just as I would wish to hear it. That’s not to say that Blomstedt’s readings are the only way to play Brahms – I continue to admire the smaller-orchestra versions by the likes of Mackerras, for example – but these are readings which are central to the received tradition of Brahms performance and I find his way with all four symphonies deeply satisfying and completely persuasive.
The two previous discs presented the music in very fine recorded sound and the same level of excellence has been achieved again.
No matter how many Brahms symphony cycles you may have on your shelves, there should always be room for such fine contributions as these to the Brahms discography.
John Quinn
