Good as it is in part, José Serebrier’s 2014 Bournemouth Symphony Dvořák Eighth can’t compare with the last version I reviewed for Gramophone, Manfred Honeck’s superbly played production with the Pittsburgh Symphony from the previous year. The symphony’s slow opening provides one or two telling clues; for example, the expressive way Honeck allows the melody to fall away as the musical sentence draws to a close. Although Serebrier is sensitive to musical line, his handling of the same passage sounds prosaic by comparison. Beyond that small detail, there’s the flexibility of Pittsburgh’s lead flute, the excitement of Honeck’s transition into the main Allegro, the warmth of the cellos thereafter and Honeck’s always vivid phrase-shaping. Hardly a bar goes by that hasn’t been painstakingly pondered in relation to the bar that follows. Serebrier’s Allegro is far less con brio than Honeck’s, though there may well be some listeners who prefer his more genial approach. Under his guidance the music unfolds naturally, unselfconsciously, and in well-balanced sound.

The Adagio is in general nicely judged, with some telling points worth noting such as the viola pizzicatos beneath solo violin at 3'33". But in the darkened second half of the movement, the sudden increase in tempo at 7'16" jars and at 7'51", once calm has been restored, the strings aren’t entirely together. Then again, I enjoyed Serebrier’s swift but amiable Allegretto grazioso, with its cleanly audible winds and consistently transparent textures. The finale, like the first movement, is animated without catching fire, the performance as a whole nicely played and well recorded but hardly a highlight of this generally excellent series.

The 10 Legends, on the other hand, have that very narrative quality that Serebrier, in his useful booklet-note, claims for the symphony, 10 stories in miniature, affectionately handled. Try No 6 for size with its lovingly played central section, paced more broadly than most but very effective at Serebrier’s chosen tempi, or the gorgeous No 8 with its imaginatively gauged shifts in mood and pulse. This is Serebrier’s Dvořák at its best. The symphony comes close, but not close enough for an unqualified recommendation.