Of all Bruckner's symphonies, the Second is still perhaps the least well known. This is no reflection on its intrinsic qualities; it is a wonderfully variegated and affecting piece, wholly 'characteristic'. It is, though, a problematic work for the conductor—like one of those walks you must travel to first, and perhaps risk getting lost on. Not strenuous, but requiring concentration as you journey through bush and briar.
Not for the first time in his career, Bruckner was persuaded by friends to abbreviate the journey here and there. In 1938 Robert Haas printed the original route-map. In 1965 Nowak reproduced the same text, adding 'vi-de' markings over the proposed excisions, though failing, for some reason, to mark the positioning of the Scherzo repeats.
Chailly plays the complete Haas text. (As does Inbal, though three bars disappear via an editing error.) Solti uses Nowak, though by including all the 'vi-de' passages he ends up with Haas minus the Scherzo repeats. Karajan makes his own synthesis. He omits the Scherzo repeats and observes the 'vi-de' marking in the first movement. On the other hand, he restores both 'vi-de' passages in the finale, including the long and important retrospective; and in the slow movement, he observes what is arguably the one genuinely helpful cut in the entire work, the prematurely florid passage at figs. C to E. (In fact, we get one note of the redundant passage when a bass players drops an egregious pizzicato F into the A flat chord at fig. E.)
Does any of this matter? In the end, no. I prefer completeness; and thoughtfulness is also welcome. Ultimately, though, the performance is the thing. Does the conductor truly love the work? Three recordings score highly here, two of them, alas, deleted LP versions. First, there was Haitink and the Concertgebouw in 1969 (5/70, Haas). This was a more classical performance than Chailly's; more fiery, with clearer, more sharply focused string sound than we have on this powerful but occasionally slightly dull-sounding new Decca recording. Then there was Giulini and the Vienna Symphony Orchestra (EMI, 12/75, foreshortened Nowak), perhaps the greatest of all recordings of the work, spacious, involved, profoundly human. Finally, there is the 1981 Karajan with its tragic intensity and astonishing spare-toned beauty. (The DG recording very dry and clear.)
Chailly's performance has many fine qualities. Unlike Solti, he allows himself space in the finale. (Defying Bruckner's invitation to high-speed locomotion is always a challenge here.) The Scherzo is splendidly judged. And in the central climax of the slow movement there is more equilibrium, more nobility than Solti provides. In the end, though, the Second Symphony needs converts. It needs a performance that will seek out and illuminate passages that are as wonderful as any in the Bruckner canon—for instance, the visionary beauty of the great cadential transition in the finale (figs. H to I) and its tricky-to-handle resolution into new life a few bars later. Giulini's was such a performance; and so, among current separately available recordings, is the Karajan.'