Johannes BRAHMS (1833-1897)
Symphony No.3 in F major Op.90 (1883) [39:29]
Symphony No.4 in E minor Op.98 (1885) [39:31]
Australian Chamber Orchestra/Richard Tognetti
rec. live 23 and 24 August 2015, Hamer Hall, Melbourne (No.3); 27 and 29
October 2013, Sydney Opera House (No.4)
Reviewed as a digital download
Also available as a CD (4819892)
ABC CLASSICS 4819890
[79:00]
Over the last few weeks I have been enjoying delving into releases from the
Australian Broadcasting Corporation’s own classical label and I have
frequently found myself wondering why these recordings aren’t better known,
especially in the UK where I am based. This present disc is a case in
point. It was released in 2020, yet as far as my limited abilities with the
internet can tell, it hasn’t been reviewed outside of Australia. This is a
great pity, as it is a real stunner.
This is very much lightweight Brahms on a diet, using only about 50
players. This puts it directly in competition with the likes of Robin
Ticciati and the Scottish Chamber Orchestra (Nos. 1-4 Linn CKD601 -
review -
review -
review) and Riccardo Chailly with the Leipzig
Gewandhaus Orchestra (Decca 4787471: Recording of the Month -
review of earlier release). For admirers of those two fine sets, I can
confidently state that this present recording is at least as good if not,
dare I say it, even better.
I came to this recording off the back of reviewing releases from B Records’
superlative complete Brahms chamber music project (I’m sure readers of
Musicweb are sick of me banging on about how good those recordings are but
they really deserve checking out). What struck me immediately listening to
Tognetti and his marvellous band is how much closer the world of the
symphonies is to that of the chamber music than I had ever previously
suspected.
This is anything but skimmed milk Brahms. The texture may be clearer,
allowing a myriad of details in the inner parts to become audible, but it
does not lack guts. Listen to the sobbing, gut-wrenching entry of the
strings near the start of the finale of No.4. This is string playing of a
particularly high order and utterly belies any notion that smaller forces
must mean a chaste classical view of these works. Conversely, Herbert
Blomstedt’s developing cycle of the Brahms symphonies on Pentatone shows
that the big band approach has never meant stodgy textures when in the
hands of a sensitive conductor.
The opening of the Third Symphony shows that the richness lies in the
orchestration, not the numbers of performers. The double bassoon in
particular gives a deep, dark bedrock to the sound, which banishes any
fears of this opening sounding anaemic. I hadn’t previously noted that the
tempo marking for this movement is Allegro con brio, and Tognetti and the
ACO bring plenty of fire as well as lyricism and grandeur. By contrast Iván
Fischer’s admirable account with his Budapest players sounds a little well
mannered -
review. My benchmark in this symphony is Furtwängler -
review - and with him you get
fire aplenty.
Time and again listening to this recording I was reminded that Tognetti is
a string player. One place where it really tells is in the slow movement of
the Fourth. If the melodic lines, particularly those for the strings, don’t
flow across the bar lines this music can become a bit of a plod. Tognetti’s
string players most definitely flow and throughout they play for their
lives. Dip into this movement about 7:40 and listen to the utter conviction
they bring to this rhetorical sequence that can sound like a lifeless
exercise. Let the music run on and the listener is rewarded with a properly
sung return of the second subject group. The very end has a chamber music
delicacy and spontaneity that is treasurable.
There is a virtually Mendelssohnian spring in the step of the scherzo of
the Fourth, reminding us that for all Brahms’ attempts to pass himself as
an old fogey, he was only in his 50s when he wrote this music. I loved the
call-and-response playfulness between the sections of the orchestra, which
made me realise how many bored-sounding orchestras I have heard in this
piece.
Tognetti’s approach to the finale of the Fourth is, as I have already
indicated, pretty gutsy. He is not afraid to let his trombones blare
balefully, yet somehow they never unbalance the rest of orchestra. The
strings play like the Furies from the Oresteia, which I think is how it
should be, since Brahms clearly has high tragedy in mind in this movement.
Pacing is key here if the end is to produce its full tragic effect and I
found Tognetti’s combination of weight and speed highly convincing. The
closing pages are immensely exciting. The approach here is more Toscanini
than Furtwängler and manages to be even more thrilling than the Italian
maestro right at the end.
Listening to these ABC recordings I have been impressed by their technical
quality even listened to, as I did, in mp3 format. They really capture the
diverse colours Tognetti conjures from these scores and they can cope with
the biggest, most congested climaxes with ease.
I won’t go through every movement in detail but content myself with saying
that every one brings similar felicities, whether it is the terrific head
of steam that gets worked up in the finale of the Third or the wistful
regret in the descending figures at the end of the slow movement of the
same symphony. My list could go on and on.
But what of the competition? In the Third I think Tognetti has all the
virtues of Ticciati but brings something extra – more fire, more richness
without sacrificing clarity. I also preferred Tognetti’s more natural
phrasing of the first subject to Chailly’s surprisingly jerky way with it. As
for the Fourth, whilst Ticciati’s approach is technically interesting, it
feels a little fussy and small scale in terms of vision next to Tognetti.
Both of these rivals offer great recordings of these symphonies but again and
again I found myself preferring the Australians.
Few areas of the catalogue are as oversubscribed as the Brahms symphonies,
yet I now find myself in the delightful position of waiting impatiently on
two emerging cycles – the Blomstedt from Leipzig and, fingers crossed, this
one from Tognetti and his magnificent players.
David McDade
