With this issue Charles Dutoit completes his welcome survey of the five Honegger symphonies with the Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra (Symphony No. 1—NUM75254, 4/86; Nos, 3 and 5—NUM75117). They are without question superior as recordings to either of the three-LP complete sets in the catalogue (Czech Philharmonic/Baudo on Supraphon and Toulouse Capitol/Plasson on EMI Pathe Marconi) though it is only fair to note that Serge Baudo's account of the Second Symphony with the Czech Philharmonic is now more than 20 years old. Dutoit has the benefit of better recorded sound than Karajan on DG: indeed, I found this unobtrusive fidelity a joy in itself in both symphonies. The perspective is completely natural, there is plenty of air around the various instruments and detail is clean and well-focused. Dutoit gets very cultured string playing from the Bavarian Radio orchestra in the dark, introspective Second Symphony; his performance is thoroughly meticulous in its observance of detail and he penetrates to the heart of the grave, thoughtful middle movement.
As in the case of Dutoit's Fifth Symphony, which by the side of Baudo I found just a shade deficient in vitality and drive, I did at first feel a certain lack of momentum. In the first movement allegro (eight bars before fig. 2), I think Dutoit will strike most listeners as a bit on the slow side, but in fact he is not much slower than Honegger's metronome marking (minim = 66), whereas his rivals are generally brisker. Charles Munch opted for a much faster tempo on his pioneering 78rpm version (now transferred to LP—EMI Pathe Marconi), the only one to have been recorded in the composer's lifetime. He was, incidentally, even faster on its HMV successor, while Serge Baudo's account for Supraphon is almost headlong here. This generates much more excitement and sense of forward movement. Karajan is about right (he, too, is faster) and, not to beat about the bush, his really is in a class of its own, thanks to the glorious playing of the Berlin strings. Collectors wanting this pensive score need look no further, particularly as it is available at mid-price.
The Deliciae Basiliensis, written for Paul Sacher and the Basle Chamber Orchestra in 1948, is less often heard but it is one of Honegger's loveliest, most mercurial and, at the same time, masterly scores. Again, Charles Dutoit gives a finale account of the work, which ought to win it many new friends. He takes more measured tempos than those that have been traditional from such conductors as Albert Wolff or Charles Munch. I wondered, momentarily, just how long this symphony had been in Dutoit's active repertoire. However, this beautifully recorded performance rekindled my enthusiasm for this much underrated work, whose sunny countenance and keen nostalgia brings unfailing delight. Dutoit is particularly successful in bringing to life the ecstatic pastoral episodes of the slow movement. Like his recent issue of the First Symphony this has given me much pleasure and will, I hope, enjoy wide success.'