It is probably not entirely coincidental that the two memorable performances from this latest instalment of Abbado's Beethoven cycle are of works he has recorded previously, and with the same orchestra, even if the experiences of the intervening years seem to have acted differently on each work.
In the case of the Eighth Symphony, first recorded for Decca (SXL6549, 1/73—nla) Abbado has made some adjustments. He has quickened his tempo for the Allegretto scherzando which is now played more or less up to the metronome mark; and there is even more latinate grace and bloom on the phrasing. More interestingly given Abbado's persistent interest in the German romantic school of Beethoven interpretation, he now adds weight and expressive power to the symphony's outer movements; as in the Fourth Symphony, so here, Abbado seems to suggest, Apollo and Dionysus sit in handsome accord. Elsewhere in the cycle, Abbado's rhythmic mouldings can seem mannered but here Beethoven's own tempo modifications (first movement, bars 43 and 51) give Abbado his cue. With the Vienna Philharmonic in fine fettle and with trenchent digital sound, this is certainly an imposing Eighth.
It is coupled with the Seventh Symphony which Abbado first attempted for Decca in 1966 (SXL6270, 1/67—nla) at the tender age of 33. (As it happens Karajan was also 33 when he tried his hand at this difficult work with the Berlin Staatskapelle in Berlin in 1941—see page 1424.) The Decca recording was not a success. ''This is a disappointment'', announced EG in his opening sentence, and he was right. The performance was dull and laboured, with dragging tempos in the two opening movements and a Vivace that often lapsed into a trundling 2/4 metre. All that has been changed for the new recording. The Allegretto is now marginally but redeemingly quicker and the Vivace, far more sharply pointed, has a proper dance impetus. At the same time, Abbado is now master of the VPO's formidable tonal resources, from the immensely powerful double-basses upwards; so that, with all the repeats in place in the outer movements and all but the second Trio repeat taken in the third movement the symphony emerges as the formidable thing it is. Unlike Carlos Kleiber (DG), Abbado doesn't divide his fiddles left and right, so the symphony's coda sounds less liberated than it can. (Bunched in the left-hand speaker, the fiddles argue among themselves rather than playing a manic game of tag across the whole sound spectrum.) But no one should doubt that this is one of the best accounts of the Seventh on CD, and with a strong coupling, it makes an excellent buy if it is this kind of high-powered mainstream reading that you seek.
With the discs which include Abbado's first recorded thoughts on the Fifth and Sixth, Symphonies we are back with the apprentice interpreter. In his review of the 1966 Seventh, EG sensed that the reading was ''deliberately large-scale'' but noted that in the event it was ''merely heavy''. Much the same thing could be said of the new Fifth and Sixth, where there is further evidence of Abbado's stubborn fascination with what one can roughly identify as the Furtwangler school of Beethoven interpretation; a school which I would have thought it would be salutary for Abbado to note but which is in fact quite alien to his temperament and genius. How else can we explain this superb conductor of Rossini, Verdi and Stravinsky falling into the trap of giving the Pastoral Symphony two leisurely opening movements, the first movement, bereft of all joyful feelings on first going into the country, sitting dumpily around a slowish crotchet = 52? The scherzo and storm go rather better, but the shepherd's song of thanksgiving, like the first movement, lacks physical energy and spiritual uplift. How the VPO must be missing Karl Bohm (DG) in this music.
What makes all this doubly frustrating is that when Abbado forgets his responsibilities as a 'great interpreter' and gets down to honest music-making, he is superb. The Choral Fantasia, which follows the Pastoral on this record, is outstanding. Perhaps it is Pollini, in electrifying form, who rouses Abbado from his introspection; whatever the cause, orchestra and chorus play and sing with a mixture of energy and earthy abandon that is intensely refreshing. The other rarity on the record the choral meditation Meeresstille und gluckliche Fahrt, would be an additional drawing point where it not for the fact that Chailly's recent recording, more sensibly coupled with the C major Mass is altogether to be preferred. Decca have put the choir more forward than DG, and the RIAS Choir have better diction and a firmer bass line. In Chailly's performance the Goethe texts are crystal clear and, with the orchestra more atmospherically placed, there emerges a genuine sense of dread of the ocean's mingled vastness and immobility.
On the third record, there is a strong and purposeful account of the Second Symphony and a Fifth in which Abbado, conducting a potentially powerful account of the work, ends up once again as hostage to an older tradition of Beethoven interpretation. The Fifth begins magnificently at a steadyish tempo, the four-note motto scrupulously accented, the fermatas carefully timed. Why the first movement does not hold the attention thereafter as it should, I am not quite sure, though something is evidently amiss in the recapitulation, most obviously around bar 366 where either Abbado loses control or (more likely) a separate take has been edited in with a lack of expertise that should not have got past stage one of the editing process. It is in the finale, though, that the style is most obviously old-fashioned. Having set a tempo for the scherzo which would match the finale's tempo in a strict one bar equals half a bar proportion, Abbado manufactures a massive Furtwangler-like allargando into the finale which proceeds at two alternating tempos, Beethoven's own and a much slower minim = 72. This latter tempo is deployed at moments of dramatic emphasis and in the horn calls in bars 26–9 and 30–33: a broadening which one had imagined went out, if not with von Bulow, then at least with Nikisch. The effect is objectionable not on grounds of taste but on grounds of the disruption to the rhythmic progress of this heroic finale. And it is the rhythmic unevenness of Abbado's performance of the finale which is the performance's real downfall. On the very last page it is perhaps sensible to allow the briefest comma to let the brass gather a full breath for an unforced final C major fortissimo chord; and if the tempo is a hectic one a conductor might make a graduated slowing over the final 12 bars as Furtwangler often did. But Abbado does none of these things. The music tramps on until within seconds of the end when there is a sudden luftpause before the final chord. In effect, Abbado establishes a new and ungainly 5/4 rhythm in the penultimate—silent—bar of the symphony. Fine for Sibelius's Fifth, you might think, but an odder end to Beethoven's Fifth it is difficult to imagine. That said, I am sure that Abbado is close to conducting a mighty Fifth. This isn't it; but in 20 years' time I hope that this interim report will be as evidently superseded as original reviews of Abbado's account of the Seventh Symphony are now by his powerful and vivid remake'