The third instalment of Christopher Hogwood's Haydn cycle comprises nine works from 1761-3, the composer's first years at the Esterhazy Court. Almost all feature colourful concertante writing, with Haydn eager to display his players' evidently formidable prowess to his new employer. Most famous, of course, is the entertaining programmatic trilogy, Nos. 6-8, which gives star turns to each member of the orchestra bar the viola; while No. 72, extravagantly misplaced in Mandyczewski's numbering, contains spectacular virtuoso parts for four horns, a slow movement which is in effect a duo for flute and violin and a variation finale that puts each instrument in turn through its paces (the hapless viola again excepted). No. 13 also calls for four horns, though here they are more closely integrated into the orchestral fabric, sometimes providing a massive, organ-like backdrop to the strings. The eloquent, florid Adagio cantabile could have strayed from a cello concerto, and the impressive finale is a distant precursor of Mozart's Jupiter, using the same four-note tag as a basis for contrapuntal elaboration. Of the other symphonies the otherwise workaday No. 9 is enlivened by concertante writing for flutes, oboes and horns; No. 40 (again, wildly out of place in the conventional numbering) has an exhilarating fugal finale, No. 16 an evocatively scored Andante (solo cello doubling muted violins an octave below), while No. 12, with its siciliano Adagio in the minor, is one of the most intimate and melodically appealing of all Haydn's early symphonies.
As with earlier issues in this series, the performances are deft and spirited, shrewdly paced and cleanly executed. The crucial solo contributions are almost invariably outstanding––marvellously nimble, quick-witted flute playing from Marc Hantai in Nos. 6-8, for instance, and a horn quartet in No. 72 of breathtaking panache and refinement. Compared with Goodman, who has recorded all but three of these symphonies in his rapidly evolving Hyperion cycle, Hogwood is rather more poised and polished, with smoother, less detached phrasing and generally broader tempos in the outer movements; his oboes and horns are less forwardly balanced, more integrated into the tutti textures; and where Goodman's minuets tend towards rollicking Landler (as in the third movement of No. 9), Hogwood's are urbane, remaining firmly within the confines of the Esterhazy palace.
I certainly prefer Hogwood in Symphony No. 12, where Goodman is too brusque and clipped in the radiant opening movement and too ponderous in the Adagio. But sometimes Hogwood's performances, for all their neatness, can seem a touch bland and under-characterized besides Goodman's urgent, continuo-driven readings––in the outer movements of No. 8, for instance, Goodman lifts the rhythms more persuasively, propels the music more strongly to its climaxes and conjures up a more dangerous final storm. Goodman's highprofile harpsichord continuo can at times become over-intrusive, especially in slow movements. But conversely, Hogwood's decision, in tandem with Professor James Webster, to omit a continuo entirely and confine the bass to a single cello, double bass and bassoon, can leave the bass line sounding undernourished. I was especially conscious of this in the finales of No. 16, where the jaunty rhythmic figures for viola, cello and bass are blurred beneath the violin tremolos, and of No. 40, where the fugal entries for the lower instruments are insufficiently defined.
Like Goodman, Hogwood omits the (probably spurious) timpani part in No. 72, included by Dorati on his complete set (Decca, 6/91). More regrettable is the omission of the timpani part in No. 13, which was at least authorized by Haydn and adds excitingly to the music's physical impact. In most of these early works I'd plump for Goodman, whose earthy, exuberant, brightly coloured readings tend to have more charisma, especially in the programmatic trilogy. But if you find the Hyperion versions too hard-pressed, or are strongly opposed to interventionist continuo playing, you won't go far wrong with Hogwood's lithe, elegantly turned performances. The recorded sound is exemplary, slightly less resonant than Hyperion's for Goodman; and the discs' appeal is enhanced by detailed, illuminating notes from James Webster.'