If you’re expecting something controversial – something to fulminate against – you’ll probably be disappointed. Harnoncourt’s Bruckner Fourth is nothing like as provocative as his Beethoven, or even as his more recent recording of the Third Symphony (Teldec, 12/95). It is relatively fast – eight minutes shorter than Georg Tintner’s Naxos version (see above), but not startlingly so. The legendarily thoughtful Otto Klemperer took two minutes less than Harnoncourt; his basic tempos are often on the lively side, with no loss of Brucknerian grandeur. If Harnoncourt’s first movement is more gripping, more like a symphonic drama than usual, that has more to do with the crisp, clear rhythmic articulation than with the number of crotchets per minute. It’s that facet above all that distinguishes Harnoncourt’s Bruckner from Tintner’s. Only in one passage did I find this version a bit hurried – the violas’ second theme in the Andante, quasi Allegretto. Perhaps it could open out more – and yet Bruckner does stipulate quasi Allegretto. The solo woodwind and horn playing that follows is lovely, expansive enough; what else would one expect from the Concertgebouw in Bruckner?
Otherwise this is an unusually compelling Bruckner Fourth – exciting throughout the first movement and Scherzo, and in passages like the problematical Brucknerian Ride of the Valkyries that erupts after the finale’s bucolic second theme. The passage that follows opens out beautifully: serene, smiling, the clarinets’ yodelling figures full of affection – calm as though there had been no previous storm. I mentioned articulation as a key to Harnoncourt’s success in the more active music. Interestingly, he devotes similar attention to the bass line. In many more traditional Bruckner performances the bass often seems to move in sustained, undifferentiated pedal points. In Harnoncourt’s version one is often aware of a deep pulsation – like the throbbing repeated notes that open the finale – continuing, however discreetly, while the tunes unfold above. To hear the finale’s second theme in this version is to be reminded that Bruckner was an excellent dancer, light on his feet until he was nearly 70. Of course one shouldn’t confuse the man with the musical personality, but why should Bruckner always sound heavy, sedentary, as though slowly digesting a gigantic meal? Harnoncourt gives us the light-footedness, while allowing the music to unfold at its own speed, to take time.
Judging by RO’s review overleaf the newly-issued Celibidache is something pretty special, just as Gunter Wand’s new Bruckner Fourth struck me as visionary – an over-used word, but in that case no other would do. Harnoncourt’s isn’t quite that; however, it’s still full of life, with the symphony conceived very much whole – even the seemingly episodic finale has an underlying river-like current, finally thundering over the dam-wall in the awe-inspiring coda. No question, Nikolaus Harnoncourt must now be considered a serious contender in Bruckner.'