Barbirolli’s Mahler Sixth only recently re-entered the lists in EMI’s Rouge et Noir livery (9/95). The makeweight there is Strauss’s Metamorphosen, a reading of great emotional thrust rather than especially subtle nuancing. That other Barbirolli hallmark – a tendency to linger – is much more evident in the present coupling, an autumnal Heldenleben, recorded in conjunction with concert performances in the difficult last months of the conductor’s life and not previously issued on CD. One doubts whether Barbirolli perceived the music in quite this fashion when he introduced it to his Scottish audiences in the 1930s. Heldenlebens have been slowing down ever since, with only Carlos Kleiber getting through the piece at anything like the composer’s own 39 minutes (and his version has yet to appear on disc). Barbirolli – uniquely in my experience – is a full 25 per cent slower. The timing looks almost grotesque on paper, and yet, for those prepared to accept a different approach (and a few technical lapses), the results are not just gloriously ripe but also profoundly moving.
Don’t look for Karajan’s tonal finesse in the opening paragraph. Where some conductors stride forth imperiously on life’s journey, Barbirolli still seems to be packing his bags, laying out the basic material without artifice, ready for the long haul. And what a journey it is! The critics move in slowly but carp with exceptional venom. Objectively speaking, the love music is too slow for the proper articulation of line, but with John Georgiadis coping heroically with the beloved’s demands and some erotic close-miked harp glissandos the section is difficult to resist. The battle scene has tremendous breadth and dignity, banishing the thought that Strauss’s material might not be of the highest quality, and there is no sense of disappointment when the ringing climax gives way to the hero’s works of peace. The pot-pourri of motifs from the composer’s back-catalogue has here an astonishingly emotive quality: it’s as if the conductor, painfully aware of his mortality, is lavishing every ounce of affection and sensibility on music he may not live to conduct again. The Elgarian nobilmente effect of the closing stages, something to which EG alluded in his original Gramophone review, is very striking. This is, I think, a great performance, much of it superbly played – even if the LSO display their corporate virtuosity more completely (and to more conventional effect) under Michael Tilson Thomas (CBS, 5/89 – nla). Barbirolli’s Heldenleben is utterly fresh and like no other. The transfer successfully preserves much of the warmth of the analogue master.
I haven’t left myself much space to discuss the Mahler. Again the pacing is deliberate, most strikingly in the first movement which becomes a world-weary trudge. The finale may be technically fallible, but there is more to this music than the dazzling concerto for orchestra it has since become in the hands of lesser men. With this transfer, EMI acknowledge the running order preferred by Barbirolli (and Rattle) in the concert-hall, placing the Scherzo third. All in all, a fascinating package, well worth sampling at the price.'