The bicentenary celebrations seem to be bringing new issues of Mozart symphonies in traditional performances like these, even more than in period performances. As these four discs illustrate, the range of styles using modern instruments could hardly be wider. As in his previous Mozart recordings with the Dresden orchestra, Sir Colin Davis directs refined, elegant readings of three symphonies, which—thanks to the orchestra, I presume, as much as the conductor—are far smoother and gentler in manner than Davis's earlier Mozart recordings. They reflect little or no influence from period performance, and will be enjoyed by Mozartians who prefer sweetness and good manners, though Davis certainly brings jollity to the finales. The warm Dresden acoustic matches the performances, tending to obscure detail only in tuttis.
At an opposite extreme, in tempo at least, is Christopher Warren-Green, who draws highly polished playing from the LCO, but often at speeds so fast that the result is perfunctory. That feeling of slickness, of Mozart's problems being too easily solved, is most marked in the Violin Concerto, K219 where Warren-Green as soloist is marvellously fluent, but at such speeds that he misses a sense of live communication. It all sounds like an exercise, though as an attractive and unusually varied group of works, technically very well played and warmly recorded, this will no doubt attract the LCO's many devotees.
In Symphony No. 29 I prefer Jane Glover's fresh and bright performance to either of the others, when, far more than those rivals, it conveys a sense of live communication. In the first movement Glover is very nearly as fast as Warren-Green, but the result is more relaxed and less smooth, with light, clean textures that suggest lessons well learnt from period performance. Glover does not match such a rival as Sir Charles Mackerras in his Prague Chamber Orchestra series (Telarc/Conifer) in flair or imagination, but these are very fresh and enjoyable performances of all three symphonies; the two greatest of his boyhood works, Nos. 25 and 29, attractively coupled with the most unjustly neglected of the later symphonies, No. 33. The recording, made in Fairfield Hall, Croydon, matches the others in the ASV series, refined but no so immediate as, say, the sound for Mackerras in Prague. Only occasionally, as in the slow movement of No. 33, does the violin tone lack anything in sweetness, and Glover consistently omits second-half repeats. That makes the Andante of No. 25 seem rather short as a slow movement, whereas Tate in his rival version repeats both halves, as he does in the outer movements too. This gives the whole symphony a different scale; some 27 minutes as opposed to less than 20. The drama of Mozart in G minor can certainly sustain that length, though omitting second half repeats is hardly serious, and I warmly recommend the Glover performances.
Tate's disc, coupling that little G minor with the once-neglected but increasingly popular No. 27, as well as the Paris Symphony, matches the earlier issues in his successful EMI series. In No. 25 Tate is generally smoother in style than Glover, but the personality is more marked, with fine detail and clean articulation freshening the result. Like the others in his series, this disc can be strongly recommended for anyone wanting this coupling when, as ever, he provides a winning combination of affectionate manners, freshness and elegance. Like Mackerras on his brighter, more thrustful account of the Paris, Tate provides the alternative Andante slow movement, always an interesting curiosity, and particularly valuable when on CD you can programme either version.'