Bruckner Symphony No 9
View record and artist detailsRecord and Artist Details
Composer or Director: Anton Bruckner
Label: Tuxedo
Magazine Review Date: 7/1991
Media Format: CD or Download
Media Runtime: 52
Mastering:
Mono
ADD
Catalogue Number: TUXCD1059
Tracks:
| Composition | Artist Credit |
|---|---|
| Symphony No. 9 |
Anton Bruckner, Composer
Anton Bruckner, Composer Jascha Horenstein, Conductor Vienna Symphony Orchestra |
Composer or Director: Anton Bruckner
Label: Classics
Magazine Review Date: 7/1991
Media Format: Cassette
Media Runtime: 0
Mastering:
Mono
ADD
Catalogue Number: 27022-4
Tracks:
| Composition | Artist Credit |
|---|---|
| Symphony No. 7 |
Anton Bruckner, Composer
Anton Bruckner, Composer Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra Jascha Horenstein, Conductor |
Composer or Director: Anton Bruckner
Label: Classics
Magazine Review Date: 7/1991
Media Format: CD or Download
Media Runtime: 59
Mastering:
Mono
ADD
Catalogue Number: 37022-2
Tracks:
| Composition | Artist Credit |
|---|---|
| Symphony No. 7 |
Anton Bruckner, Composer
Anton Bruckner, Composer Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra Jascha Horenstein, Conductor |
Author: Richard Osborne
''Bliss it was in that dawn to be alive!'' And which dawn, you might bemusedly ask? The dawn of the rediscovery of Bruckner's music in the late 1920s and early 1930s. Here is what Richard Holt wrote in Gramophone in January 1930, when this Horenstein recording of the Seventh Symphony first appeared: ''Anton Bruckner is on trial! Here in England. Abroad, he has joined the immortals. Some of the critics here do not like him. Whether you who read this will do so can quickly be decided. On Polydor 66802-08 is Bruckner's Seventh Symphony perfectly recorded, and if you do not agree with me that this is great music, I shall be tempted to be dogmatic and declare you do not know what music is. Anton Bruckner was a man uncontaminated by the world, a rare and simple nature, who worked in solitude for the glory of God and the joy of artistic achievement. This symphony is a sublime work, to which, after you have grown to love it, you will go as you would to the work of an inspired prophet, or to the greatest writings of the Bible.''
The fact that neither Horenstein nor the Berlin Philharmonic is mentioned anywhere in the review is beside the point. Even today, a review like that would probably do more for the records, and the music, than any number of in-depth comparisons. In fact, Horenstein's was the first electric recording of the symphony. In 1930, its only rival had you been able to get it, would have been a 1924 acoustic set conducted by Oscar Fried. And what of the performance? Well, even today it is astonishingly fine, a foretaste of a great 30-yearold conducting talent that politics, war and illness all too sadly compromised in later years. The Seventh Symphony was, in fact, a shrewd choice. Not only is it Bruckner's most uninhibitedly glorious work, it is also unproblematical textually. The score was published by Gutmann in 1885 and, to all intents and purposes, that is a text we can accept today. So there are no textual problems with the performance, unless you are one of those purists who resents the cymbal clash at the climax of the slow movement.
It is also a performance you can listen to with a fair degree of comfort. Play the excellent CD transfer at a reasonably high level and you soon forget the surface rustle and get, instead, an immediacy of sound that was rather lacking in Unicorn's LP transfer (12/76—nla). Occasionally, in tuttis, the recording separates out string, woodwind and brass tone in a rather peculiar way, and the horns are backward in the coda of the slow movement. But much of it still sounds glorious prindpally, I suspect, because it was glorious in the studio. The Berlin string playing yields nothing in richness and refinement to Berlin string playing in the palmiest days of Furtwangler or Karajan, and to hear such awesomely quiet and richly sustained triple pianos on a 1928 78rpm recording is little short of astonishing.
Horenstein's reading is intensely dramatic, and in all but the slow movement, controversially quick. Where Haas's edition of the score guesses, and most conductors confirm, 68 minutes as par for the course, Horenstein is through in 59 minutes. The constraints of 78rpm sides? Sadly that dreary canard still enjoys wide currency. The fact is, Horenstein feels the symphony this way. His account of the first movement is rather like Rosbaud's (on a Vox LP—nla) but though it is even quicker than the Rosbaud, it also manages to open up huge spaces in the great brooding transitions. Similarly, the start of the slow movement is very slow indeed, yet it remains at the same time refreshingly direct. (And how gloriously the second subject is floated and sung.) Such extremes join hands in the third movement, where the Scherzo is exceptionally vivid, the Trio incorrigibly lazy. Reviewing the Unicorn LP reissue, EG almost drew the line at the rather fast finale. But even here, the same principles apply. This is one of the wittiest, as well as the grandest, of all symphonic finales, and Horenstein is wonderfully impertinent with no loss of real dignity and power. Richard Holt was right to be transported by the symphony as it is realized here. And now we have the best transfer yet, without the infuriating 78rpm side-breaks or the dreadful fade and reprise engineered by Unicorn for the LP side-break in the slow movement.
Horenstein's Vox recording of the Ninth Symphony was also greeted with acclaim in these columns, this time by Trevor Harvey who also felt that he had been through ''a deep and great experience''. Again, there is a splendid line to the performance and real urgency in the first movement and in a devilishly brilliant reading of the Scherzo. But here one must tread with greater caution. The sound is good enough to make this—unlike the Berlin Seventh—a possible contender for 'best buy'. In fact, Horenstein's way with the great final Adagio is really too brisk and the playing of the Vienna orchestra often leaves something to be desired. The horns even manage to fluff their crucial final ascent in theAdagio's coda. Where the Ninth is concerned, the 1961 Walter (CBS (CD) CD44825, 6/90) or 1977 Karajan (DG (CD) 419 0832GH, 9/86) are not readily surpassed.'
The fact that neither Horenstein nor the Berlin Philharmonic is mentioned anywhere in the review is beside the point. Even today, a review like that would probably do more for the records, and the music, than any number of in-depth comparisons. In fact, Horenstein's was the first electric recording of the symphony. In 1930, its only rival had you been able to get it, would have been a 1924 acoustic set conducted by Oscar Fried. And what of the performance? Well, even today it is astonishingly fine, a foretaste of a great 30-yearold conducting talent that politics, war and illness all too sadly compromised in later years. The Seventh Symphony was, in fact, a shrewd choice. Not only is it Bruckner's most uninhibitedly glorious work, it is also unproblematical textually. The score was published by Gutmann in 1885 and, to all intents and purposes, that is a text we can accept today. So there are no textual problems with the performance, unless you are one of those purists who resents the cymbal clash at the climax of the slow movement.
It is also a performance you can listen to with a fair degree of comfort. Play the excellent CD transfer at a reasonably high level and you soon forget the surface rustle and get, instead, an immediacy of sound that was rather lacking in Unicorn's LP transfer (12/76—nla). Occasionally, in tuttis, the recording separates out string, woodwind and brass tone in a rather peculiar way, and the horns are backward in the coda of the slow movement. But much of it still sounds glorious prindpally, I suspect, because it was glorious in the studio. The Berlin string playing yields nothing in richness and refinement to Berlin string playing in the palmiest days of Furtwangler or Karajan, and to hear such awesomely quiet and richly sustained triple pianos on a 1928 78rpm recording is little short of astonishing.
Horenstein's reading is intensely dramatic, and in all but the slow movement, controversially quick. Where Haas's edition of the score guesses, and most conductors confirm, 68 minutes as par for the course, Horenstein is through in 59 minutes. The constraints of 78rpm sides? Sadly that dreary canard still enjoys wide currency. The fact is, Horenstein feels the symphony this way. His account of the first movement is rather like Rosbaud's (on a Vox LP—nla) but though it is even quicker than the Rosbaud, it also manages to open up huge spaces in the great brooding transitions. Similarly, the start of the slow movement is very slow indeed, yet it remains at the same time refreshingly direct. (And how gloriously the second subject is floated and sung.) Such extremes join hands in the third movement, where the Scherzo is exceptionally vivid, the Trio incorrigibly lazy. Reviewing the Unicorn LP reissue, EG almost drew the line at the rather fast finale. But even here, the same principles apply. This is one of the wittiest, as well as the grandest, of all symphonic finales, and Horenstein is wonderfully impertinent with no loss of real dignity and power. Richard Holt was right to be transported by the symphony as it is realized here. And now we have the best transfer yet, without the infuriating 78rpm side-breaks or the dreadful fade and reprise engineered by Unicorn for the LP side-break in the slow movement.
Horenstein's Vox recording of the Ninth Symphony was also greeted with acclaim in these columns, this time by Trevor Harvey who also felt that he had been through ''a deep and great experience''. Again, there is a splendid line to the performance and real urgency in the first movement and in a devilishly brilliant reading of the Scherzo. But here one must tread with greater caution. The sound is good enough to make this—unlike the Berlin Seventh—a possible contender for 'best buy'. In fact, Horenstein's way with the great final Adagio is really too brisk and the playing of the Vienna orchestra often leaves something to be desired. The horns even manage to fluff their crucial final ascent in the
Bruckner Symphony No 9
Bruckner Symphony No 7
Bruckner Symphony No 7
Discover the world's largest classical music catalogue with Presto Music.
Gramophone Digital Club
- Digital Edition
- Digital Archive
- Reviews Database
- Full website access
From £8.75 / month
Subscribe
Gramophone Full Club
- Print Edition
- Digital Edition
- Digital Archive
- Reviews Database
- Full website access
From £11.00 / month
Subscribe
If you are a library, university or other organisation that would be interested in an institutional subscription to Gramophone please click here for further information.