Well now, here’s a surprise. I began my listening with the Third Symphony (a work for which I have always had an especially soft spot). Immediate reactions? Favourable from the start. Otmar Suitner steers a propulsive course through the first movement, yet how affectionate and (above all) unforced it all sounds. I especially admire the way he maintains the momentum at the start of the development section (always a perilous moment), while the coda has a marvellous sense of home-coming. I also like the solid tangibility of his string basses – a factor which also contributes to the success of Rowicki’s glorious LSO version on Philips (part of a two-CD set, and a longstanding personal favourite). The slow movement flows beguilingly, without a hint of dragging during its Wagnerian central portion. Best of all is the finale, which has sparkle, point and cumulative energy that genuinely exhilarate. Again, Suitner invests a rare sense of purpose to the proceedings, drawing the threads together at the close with thrilling cogency. Up until now, I honestly doubted whether any performance would ever be able to oust Rowicki’s as my preferred choice, but I must confess that Suitner’s came mighty close.
No one is going to pretend that the Staatskapelle Berlin is of the very front rank, but there’s no denying the application and dedication on display throughout these two discs, and Suitner evidently has his players fully prepared for the task in hand. The Second reacts well to Suitner’s bright-eyed, airy approach. Indeed, his view of this endearing, often inspired creation strikes me as very much ‘all of a piece’, fleet-of-foot yet enviably clear-sighted at the same time. A keen, distinctive account, strikingly similar in spirit to the Rowicki if, ultimately, not in the same league as it (a cruel comparison, I know).
The Polish maestro continues to take the palm in the First Symphony, too, for here Rowicki draws a positively galvanized response from the LSO to put all other versions I know into the shade (and that includes Suitner’s otherwise far-from-negligible reading). Die-hards will pounce on Suitner’s observation of some nasty, old-fashioned cuts, accusing him of a lack of conviction in Dvorak’s early inspiration. Yet that criticism is by no means borne out by these mobile, consistently warm-hearted interpretations.
Recording quality (1978-9 vintage) is more than acceptable and, all in all, this package from Berlin Classics strikes me as well worth tracking down. The booklet’s inside-back page illustrates the covers for these same artists’ recordings of Dvorak’s Symphonies Nos. 4-8 inclusive, which I would be intrigued to hear.'