Dvorak's E flat Symphony, the most rewarding of the early works, with its radiant first movement in a flowing 6/8, its striking funeral march slow movement and crisply rhythmic finale, receives a characteristically affectionate reading from Jarvi and the Scottish National Orchestra, opulently recorded in typically reverberant Chandos sound. Generously coupled with similarly sympathetic readings of the Carnival Overture and the Symphonic Variations, it makes a welcome addition to Jarvi's Dvorak series, though it does not quite match the finest issues so far. I very much hope ' that Decca will soon issue on CD the vintage Kertesz version, for there you find a crisper, cleaner view of the work, which yet brings out its warmth just as winningly.
This is a work which benefits from recording less reverberant than the Chandos team provide. The contrasts of timbre, rhythm and dynamic tend to be smoothed over a degree or two, and though the simple descending scale motif of the second subject has rarely sounded more sumptuously beautiful than here on its first appearance, the exceptionally long development it later receives would sound even more effective with tougher, steadier treatment such as Kertesz gives.
In the second movement Jarvi in the main C sharp minor funeral march section adopts a faster speed than usual, evidently chosen so that the central D flat major march section—with obvious echoes of the bridal march from Wagner's Lohengrin—can follow easily with barely any tempo change. In the finale with the timpani rather boomy against the reverberant acoustic, textures are not as clear as they should be, so that even the triangle stands out less cleanly than it might—and certainly does on the Kertesz issue of over 20 years ago.
My reservations are of only incidental importance, when Jarvi's performance is overall so persuasive, and the extra items are both superbly done—the overture played at high speed with great brilliance, the Variations made to flow the more easily thanks to Jarvi's warmly expressive, moulded style, bringing out the composer's sheer delight in just letting his invention blossom.'