Although Mahler was arguably the major preoccupation of Barbirolli’s final decade, the conductor left commercial recordings of only three of the symphonies: Nos. 5, 6 and 9. This rediscovered version of the Third is a BBC studio recording made some two months after a (widely bootlegged) Berlin Philharmonic concert taping once apparently considered for commercial release by EMI. The BPO, with whom Barbirolli performed most of the symphonies in the 1960s, may have been less than familiar with Mahler’s idiom, but the Halle could be erratic too and this is by no means a note-perfect account. Nor, to be honest, are the grander, red-blooded qualities one expects from Barbirolli’s music-making much in evidence in its early stages.
Either this particular performance took a while to catch fire or Barbirolli felt that the work was best managed by underplaying the more sensational aspects of the first movement. There is no risk of sprawl at his relatively brisk overall tempo, but you may find the expression surprisingly contained, given the grandiose interpretative example set by Charles Adler’s pioneering set, or the Protean razzle-dazzle of Bernstein in New York. Launched with a characteristic groan, Barbirolli’s second movement is none the less played relatively straight, eschewing extreme effects until the portamento-laden string lines towards the end. The ‘birds and beasts’ Scherzo is lumbered with unaccountably prosaic posthorn episodes, although the coda is whipped up into a passionate frenzy. There is more obvious generosity of spirit in the Nietzsche setting, here a positively operatic scena with a red-blooded climax; perhaps only die-hard fans will welcome its transformation into a duet with the conductor. The commitment extends to a boisterous ‘angels’ movement and an extremely personal reading of the finale, at the opposite extreme from the seamlessly lucid approach exemplified by Haitink. For me, the present performance sounds over-egged and the changes of pace don’t always come off. And yet who would want to miss music-making of such temperament? The string playing has fervour and bags of portamento, even if there are patches of near-incoherence and the final stages are rushed.
The sound is clean and decently balanced if a little ‘hollow’, something to which the ear quickly adjusts, while the occasional lack of dynamic range would seem to be the players’ fault. Michael Kennedy’s booklet-notes are excellent, but there are no texts and we are not given a date or a context for the (rather older) accompanying interview. Given their careful choice of repertoire and keenly sensitive transfers, it would be a shame if the people at BBC Legends let things slip at the margins. Admirers of the conductor will not hesitate.'