The inevitable Candide overture goes at quite a lick. So many continents‚ so little time. James Judd’s Florida Philharmonic point and counterpoint with some aplomb and the big lyric tune is not merely glossed over but sung. Even so‚ early suspicions that they are not best served by the recording are confirmed with the equally inevitable West Side Story Symphonic Dances – here called ‘Dance Suite’ (why?). The sound is too thinly spread for my taste. We’re seated well back in the stalls of the Au­Rene Theatre of the Broward Center‚ Fort Lauderdale. The lack of immediacy‚ of definition‚ of impact‚ robs the big moments of excitement. ‘Somewhere’ floats prettily enough in the middle­distance‚ horn and oboe counterpoint registering with some distinction. But what happened to all that latino percussion in the ‘Mambo’? Remote‚ vague – only the bass drum has any body‚ as have the searing mariachi trumpets‚ of course. But they are at opposite ends of the tonal spectrum. It’s the middle range that so lacks presence. Then along comes Jean Louis Steuerman‚ soloist and Lenny alter­ego in Symphony No 2‚ The Age of Anxiety‚ and he’s sitting right under our noses. But still the piano sound is shallow‚ boxy‚ more upright than grand. And come the most critical and distinctive phase of the work – the jazzy ‘Masque’ – the intimacy of the interplay between piano‚ percussion and harp (where is it? I don’t hear it) is compromised by the remoteness of the percussion. Steuerman is anyway not at his best in this section. He’s slightly heavy on the keys‚ not at all the fluid‚ laid­back and capricious jazzer that Lenny intended him to be. Elsewhere‚ he and Judd have caught the volatility well enough (this is the most autobiographical of Bernstein pieces) and the opening of the piece – two clarinets in echo­tone‚ the loneliest sound in American music – is very haunting‚ full of promise. Pity the recording doesn’t deliver.