In returning to a Rachmaninov symphony he recorded previously with the Royal Philharmonic (Virgin, 5/90 – nla), Andrew Litton goes head to head with Antonio Pappano, appending as encore the exquisite Liadov miniature Pappano places before the main work in his recent pairing of the same scores. The results are very different. Although both conductors have an epic, essentially Romantic view of the Rachmaninov, Litton’s extensive use of old-fashioned portamento doesn’t quite ring true. He patently loves the symphony but, with this orchestra at least, the music’s sense of direction can be compromised by such premeditated caresses. There are also some slightly stodgy tempi: Rachmaninov’s slow introduction is exactly that, slow rather than particularly expectant. Litton goes on to take the first movement’s exposition repeat and, ever articulate, generates considerable heat at climaxes. The scherzo finds the composer’s sometimes surprising textural manipulations prioritised now and then over animal excitement. In the Trio, intrusive slides take their cue from what’s written in the score, yet one can’t help finding them Hollywoodish. Hollywood’s André Previn was always more discreet.

Captured at a live event not without a few bumps and thumps, Pappano’s Roman band is that bit more involving in a performance which gains in conviction as it proceeds. Litton on the other hand seems to lose impetus in the slow movement and even more so in the finale – not in truth Rachmaninov at his finest, hence the particularly savage cuts to which it was subjected in earlier years. It is vital that the final climax provide the right kind of resolution, finally breaking the mould of stepwise melodic movement with its confident thrusting line. Somehow, just when it matters most, Litton falls short. His insipid build-up to the big tune sounds as if it might have been pasted in at another session. A plus point is BIS’s artwork: a striking image, Sunset by Arkady Rylov, adorns the front of the booklet while the musicians wield umbrellas in the Norwegian drizzle on the reverse. Flattered by bright, clean sound, the ensemble lacks nothing in weight as recorded and its nasal, slightly whiny brass and cool first clarinet might even be thought vaguely Slavic.