Liszt's three ''character portraits'' (to quote L'Abbe himself) have long enjoyed convincing gramophone advocacy, with fine pre-digital versions by Beecham, Horenstein and Bernstein revealing quite different aspects of the work's diverse personality. These two newcomers both have their virtues—Inbal's being the better played and better prepared, with d'Avalos gaining points for extra spontaneity—but neither alters the existing roster of recommendations, with Bernstein and Beecham jointly vying for first place.
Inbal's April 1992 recording was made in the Schauspielhaus, Berlin, a warm and accommodating acoustic that blends more detail than it reveals. Orchestral execution is mostly assured and Inbal effects smooth transitions between sections, a highly desirable virtue in the long outer movements. The trouble is that his handling of the Faust's Allegro agitato ed appassionato (index points 1-4) lacks passion, although the grandioso ''Faust's ideal of the hero'' is broadly etched and very well played. Gretchen's lines flow nicely, her thematic reflections of Faust sensitively shaped, but never underlined. As ever, Inbal has the full measure of the score's lyrical exposition, and that is invariably where his performance is at its best. But ''Mephistopheles'' remains maddeningly aloof; an elegantly tailored gentleman with a certain sense of humour, perhaps, but no devil. Inbal fails to point contrasting incidents with the vividness of Bernstein (especially in New York), or Beecham, although his relative refinement locates subtle textural elements (especially among the woodwinds) that other performers tend to ignore.
D'Avalos is no better in ''Mephistopheles'', and a lot less precise all round. His tenor, Antonio Necolescu, sounds hard-pressed and uncomfortable, whereas Inbal's Jianyi Zhang is far more 'on beam', singing with genuine lyrical ardour. His Berlin Radio Chorus, too, is better balanced than d'Avalos's Hungarians. But d'Avalos scores by releasing more of Faust's 'fighting spirit', even though the Hungarian brass section lacks bite and their strings are wont to scramble. It's a spirited, unrefined production that suggests an obvious affinity with the music, but repeated listening demands more, and were I to choose between d'Avalos and Inbal, I suspect that the latter's extra polish and concentration would win me over. Pickwick's recording (Italian Institute, Budapest and also dating from 1992) has close violins and startlingly over-prominent cymbals (in ''Mephistopheles''), but is otherwise fairly impressive.
'Were I to choose between...'—but of course our choices range far beyond this particular pair, although Denon's copious index points (33 in all—if you can access them) and comprehensive documentation will prove tempting for those who want to study as they listen. No, to be honest there's still room for a first-class digital Faust Symphony, one that combines temperament, perception, virtuosity and good sound. I live in hope that one day Bernard Haitink might supplement his superb Philips Liszt symphonic poem cycle with the two symphonies, and were Carlos Kleiber to consider... but I know that that really is clutching at straws! In the meantime, it's back to a trio of stereo/analogue 'golden oldies'—Bernstein (Sony) for passion and drive, Bernstein (DG) for passion and refinement, and Beecham for wit and that intangible 'something' that we habitually call style.'