My dictum about Italian directions at the start of works, especially of Brahms's time, is that it is from the latter part of the phrase that one can get the first clue to what the composer wanted. After all, there is not much you can discover from a first word like allegro, only that the movement is to go quickly; but when the composer adds something that qualifies that first word it should indicate to the performer what sort of allegro the composer had in his mind; and anything that gets you into the composer's mind, I need hardly say, is of the first importance. Thus, this symphony starts with the allegro qualified by non troppo, which is obviously a second and more helpful thought. Of course, you have to go on from there and consider how far the allegro must be (not too much'; but at least you have had a warning not to set a very fast speed.
Likewise the third movement starts with something that Brahms elaborates, Allegretto grazioso (quasi Andantino); something that indicates a graceful style but, just in case you should be tempted to take too swift a tempo to get the grazioso, you are warned that the composer wanted it almost as if he had marked it Andantino right away but thought that would imply something too slow.
Janowski is a most observant conductor; over other matters also, and he is obviously aware of all this, but I think he overdoes his desire not to take either of the two movements too quickly. The first starts out at an initial tempo I thought too slow (apart from a very indecisive recording of the cellos and basses in the first bar) and he has to ease it into more movement at appropriate moments. The same is true of the third movement. I also think his view of every piano dolce, a favourite marking in the first violins, is overdone, the players not being allowed to sing their melody out. I don't know that I greatly like the sudden broadening for a few bars from bar 282 in the first movement—does it need this treatment to make it emphatic?
I do note with pleasure, however, Janowski's clear realization that the three crotchets of the viola and cello melody (they appear first before bar 80) are clearly given with the slurred staccato with which they are marked, but are entirely legato when they are accompanying the flute (after bar 157), though the melody is identical. Also, that the cellos at the start of the adagio are marked merely poco forte, so that they do not play the melody with the 'fruity' style we often hear. Towards the end of the movement, however, the timpani (marked p) are too loud for the strings (marked mp). The finale bowls along as it should and the largamente tune in the strings is perfectly judged and not at all overdone; and the whole movement comes to the brilliant end, as it should, with the brass contributing everything.
Janowski has the RLPO playing in first-class form and it is only momentarily here and there that one is reminded that it is not really quite Solti's Chicago orchestra; the clarinets at bars 64 and 65, for example, do not ripple up and down in the delightful way those of the latter orchestra do, making a passing though delicious point.
As to comparisons, it will take a lot to steal my allegiance from the Boult performance on the budget-price HMV Concert Classics label. It is no longer so sheerly brilliant as the other two but it is a great account of the symphony which Sir Adrian made particularly his own, especially in his latter years when he never failed to present it at its finest: and there is the great bonus of the fill-up being the Alto Rhapsody with Dame Janet Baker as soloist. But if you do want more up-to-date sound, then Solti on Decca is also very good, perhaps rather more romantic in his approach than Sir Adrian is. Both Janowski and Sir Georg opt for the Tragic Overture for an extra item. The former's performance of this is wholly admirable, full of vitality and zest in this brilliant recording, though perhaps the brass are allowed their head here a little too much.'