This first instalment in a projected complete survey of the ''London'' Symphonies reveals Slatkin as an urbane and affectionate Haydn interpreter. In his hands the Surprise is altogether more dapper than from Sir Colin Davis and the Concertgebouw, who with sharper accents and chunkier rhythms bring more earthiness and sheer gusto to the music. Slatkin's reading is full of elegant, deftly-observed instrumental detail—the witty highlighting of the bassoon in the repeats of the trio, for instance; and the finale is notably successful in its mingled delicacy and brio, with wonderfully articulate playing from the Philharmonia-strings. As throughout the disc, Slatkin divides his first and second violins (12 of each) on opposite sides, so that Haydn's antiphonal sallies make their proper effect.
In the more complex and searching B flat Symphony, No. 98, I appreciated the grace and finish of Slatkin's phrasing and his keen ear for both the contrapuntal detail and the unusual chromatic colouring of the first two movements; and in the minuet, more lustily swung than that in the Surprise, he rams home Haydn's audacious clash (suppressed in most editions, including that used by Davis) between the basses' B natural and the second trumpet's B flat in bar 11. Slatkin catches well the verve and the Rossini-ish deadpan wit of the finale, with beautifully turned solos from the Philharmonia's leader—though some listeners will raise an eyebrow at the use of solo violin in the piu moderato send-off (from 6'33'').
At similar tempos Davis's reading of No. 98 is that much tougher than Slatkin's, with tauter rhythms, bolder contrasts and far more incisive brass and timpani, which throughout the RCA disc tend to be over-reticent at climactic points. The same antithesis marks the two performances of the London: Slatkin more gracious and genial, a touch more romantically flexible in the Andante (and arguably over-indulgent in the minuet's trio) Davis fierier and more dramatic generating more animal spirits in the minuet and more tension in the developments of the first movement and finale.
If my preference in these symphonies remains with Davis, whose superb complete set of the ''London'' symphonies is now available on two bargain-priced Duo albums, there is still much to enjoy in these cultivated new readings from Slatkin and the responsive Philharmonia, with both strings and wind on notably good form. Apart from the relatively subdued timpani and, intermittently brass, the recordings have ample presence and clarity, though the Blackheath Concert Hall, venue for No. 98, does possess rather more ambient warmth than the Abbey Road Studio No. 1 used for the other two symphonies.'